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Bad Taste

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“We are not watching Mamma Mia!, Aoko.”

Aoko looks over her shoulder, sliding the DVD case back into its slot, and wrinkles her nose at him. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s a musical,” Kaito says, shuddering.

“What’s wrong with musicals?”

“They’re awful.”

With a frown, Aoko stands back up, crossing her arms over her chest. There’s tension in the set of her shoulders that Kaito knows is pure frustration.

“Fine then,” she says, “what does BaKaito want to watch?”

“The Breakfast Club,” Kaito replies immediately.


“Why not, Aoko?”

“It’s boring,” she says. Her eyes narrow, indicating to Kaito that she won’t budge. “I don’t like it and it has a terrible ending.”

“Wha—The Breakfast Club is one of the greatest movies of all time!”

“It’s boring,” Aoko repeats.

“Fine,” Kaito says. “I guess we aren’t watching a movie then!”

There’s a beat of silence, disturbed only by the soft hum of the television.

“But it’s movie day,” Aoko says softly. “We have to watch a movie.” They’ve been doing the same thing every Friday afternoon for longer than either of them could remember. Even apart, they’d watch the same movie on the same day and compare notes the moment they saw each other. “It’s our thing.”

All of a sudden, Kaito realizes it’s all ending. All of it. In two more weeks, they’ll be out of school forever, and then they’ll be adults. Aoko will be busy with her police internship and Kaito will be focusing on creating a professional show for the first time in his life. He’s aware that things will change, that he and Aoko might grow apart, that one day... there might be no more movie days to look forward to.

He isn’t ready to let that happen yet.

“I have an idea,” Kaito announces, grinning.

“What is it?”

Kaito makes a show of raising his sleeves and pant legs, causing Aoko to roll her eyes, though he can see her hiding a smile behind her hand. After he’s pointedly searched everywhere he could possibly have hidden something, he snaps his fingers. Nothing happens. Kaito glares at his hand like it’s offended him, and snaps again.

This time, a small cloud of pink-ish smoke explodes into the space between them. It clears, and Aoko’s eyes land on the movie that Kaito’s offering her, expression brightening immediately.

“Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because I’m awesome,” Kaito says. He settles on the couch, strategically positioning his arm across the back so he can fiddle with Aoko’s hair when she sits.

Aoko bounces onto the couch and swings her legs over the arm. Her back lands against his thigh, head resting in his lap. Kaito’s hand slides off the back of the couch, hovering near her stomach until she reaches out to lace their fingers together and tugs him back to earth. His other hand settles in her hair, gently scratching at her scalp as she melts into his touch.

“Can I hit play?”

“As you wish,” Aoko says, smirking.

“Hey, I’m Westley!”

“Says who? You’d make a terrible pirate.”

“You’d make a terrible pirate,” Kaito retorts.

“Shh, Kaito, it’s starting!”

“As you wish,” Kaito says softly.