Chapter Text
He tried to immerse himself in the monthly issue of No-Ko to no success. The articles and trivia that usually had the ability to occupy his mind no matter the circumstance, had suddenly lost all of their potency, for the first time ever. Not even having gotten broken up with just a few weeks ago had induced this level of disarray, which when examined closer was probably a significant. In what way, he did not fully understand.
Preceding the breakup he had nearly skipped even attempting to give his then girlfriend a gift, in anticipation for a typically gift giving set of days. A fact, that if he examined closer, really got under his skin. Tsukasa was a judicious person, but he was not apathetic, he believed this about himself deeply, and yet he had nearly chosen, out of sheer inertia and maybe, just maybe, even anxiety, to be an inconsiderate person. And not even that, a thoughtless boyfriend. The idea made him uneasy. At the thought, as on que, when his mind had occasionally drifted inwards these last few hours, it refocused on the recent event that had, if not started, then definitely accelerated this rumination.
Tsukasa regarded himself as a “smooth operator”. Particularly in regards to how he, as the comedians say, “worked the room”. This did not mean he actually spoke very much, or often, more that when he spoke he was careful to only stay stuff that was relevant. It wasn't that Tsukasa was humourless, not at all, he could get Yamada to double over with laughter if he really wanted to, and Sousuke sometimes said he was funny. The fact that Kento could laugh at, with, or about just anything and that Sousuke's tone in these moments, if Tsukasa was honest, sounded eerily like sarcasm, was neither here nor there.
This was relevant because out of all his friends there was really only one particular person who laughed seemingly specifically in his company. Not that this person didn't laugh in other contexts, Tsukasa was not egotistical enough to entertain such a notion, no. It was more that in his company this person attained this very special tilt and engaged with him in a way she rarely did with her other guy friends, or atleast, how she interacted with Yamada or Sousuke.
In the back of his mind, this had never really been an issue before. He had just assumed this was how she occasionally interacted with guy friends, and that of her small circle of guy friends he was just a random target. Not that he minded, or at least, he didn’t mind before, or if he was really honest with himself. In truth he may have not even noticed until about six hours ago.
Now, the situation was different due to a confluence of convergent factors. The first was as mentioned, that he had just exited his first real high school relationship, the second, related and kicked off partly by the first, concerned how he had begun to doubt that he truly was the “smooth operator” he saw himself as, the third and most severe was that he had indirectly but clearly called Egashira beautiful, pretty, cute or any one other appropriate synonym for stating someone else was attractive. This opinion, which is closer to fact than subjective judgment, should not be controversial, neither considered or spoken. Of course no one goes around calling every second person they meet attractive, even if true, he was not socially inept.
But Egashira should be aware of that already, surely? She clearly cared and sometimes carried an intensity about herself that confounded Tsukasa, but which reminded him of Sousuke. And Sousuke was extremely aware. Tsukasa simply stating that, implicitly, Egashira was indeed attractive, should actually not be that big of a deal. He imagined that if he simply laid out the facts of the matter. One, that Egashira had provoked an argument. Two. That Tsukasa simply sought the best possible rebuttal. Three, that the rebuttal in question just happened to be giving voice to the, completely normal and uncontroversial opinion, which was closer to an objective statement anyway, that Egashira was beautiful, then that was simply how things were.
The unfortunate social implications of a guy complimenting a girl's attractiveness was altogether immaterial to the situation, and one Tsukasa could not be held responsible for, either by Egashira or himself. In fact, the whole reason he had approached her was that she had obviously been pretty sad, and in that sense, the conversation had been a total success, Egashira had seemingly lightened up by the end of it. Tsukasa should be proud of himself, despite being a “smooth operator” as well as a judicious individual, he had to shamefully admit that Egashira's usual jab, that Tsukasa was bad at talking to girls, was not altogether unfounded. What more, when it came to consolation, he was to his horror, maybe even less experienced. He liked to believe that this was mostly a natural consequence of his two closest friends rarely if ever needing consolation. Albeit, for very, very different reasons. That he had succeeded in the endeavour then should be a positive mark on his character.
The reason his now ex had given for breaking up was that Tsukasa had turned out different than how she thought he was. When Tsukassa had asked, she had simply said that he wasn’t as “cool” as she had assumed. What that actually meant, he did not know. But consoling a sad Egashira was surely a point to the “knowing how to talk to girls” and whatever the “cool” category denoted.
Being satisfied that he had reached an initial terminus to this line of thinking, he stopped pacing and made ready for bed. Once tucked in and the light switched off, Tsukasa closed his eyes. Instead of entering sleep, or that in between the areas of conscious and subconscious, a clear image entered his mind. A memory from about a year ago. They had been visiting Iwarkuras home, it had been evening and the moonlight was clear in a way he had never before seen it in Tokyo. He was standing on the edge of a field, overlooking the lap of the ocean. Beside him was Iwakuras aunt, and Egashira. Despite his presence Egashira had said some very sensitive stuff, and the whole time he had felt like an intrusion. However at that precise moment, Egashira had turned towards the sky and Tsukasa had turned to look at her. The shine of the moon had encased her hair, the ginger locks had fluttered in the evening breeze and seemingly attuned to the rhythm of the ocean. At the time he had thought not much of it, feeling embarrassed more than anything else for taking up space and just occasionally gawking at them. Now though, the image was infused with an incandescence he did not fully comprehend, Egashira's hair had taken on a shade of red seemingly outside the available colour spectrum. The memory quickly derailed into what he knew was not a proper recounting of reality, as the Egashira of his mind turned back to him and smiled, not in the mock saccharine way she liked to employ in her banter, but something profoundly genuine and unprecedented.
Tsukasa shot up, his bed protested in an annoyed squeak. He doubled over and with a groan buried his face in his hands. This was, evidently, not working. His hormones, for that was what this was, surely, had finally decided to ruin him too, in short, he was compromised.
He swiftly grabbed his phone out of its charger, at the top of his contacts, right under his parents, was filed his friends in neat order. For a second that he could only describe as total delirium, he hovered over Egashira's number, before his finger recoiled a nanosecond later. It was friday, there was time to fix this before returning to school. He opened the group chat with Sousuke and Kento.
- “Hey, smash bros tomorrow, my place?”
Kento replied with a thumbs up emoji, while Sousuke would realistically not communicate at this hour. Calmed and with something to look forward to, he laid back down in bed. Not risking giving his mind free reign, he utilised what he half remembered as a kind of meditative technique. Focusing gently on familiar objects, smash bros, last month's issue of No-Ko, school projects, Sousuke, Kento, and after some time, sleep finally caught up to him.