"Dude, what's wrong with your fingers?"

Mikado looked up, startled, as Masaomi continued to stare at him quizzically. "What?"

"Watch, they'll do it again soon-"The fingers of Mikado's left hand twitched violently. "See?"

"Oh, that." The black-haired boy said, relieved. "I think it's called carpal tunnel."

"Carpal tunnel? The hell is that?"

Returning to his typing, Mikado laughed. "You know, when you type a lot or something. Your fingers get jumpy. I get it a lot, don't worry."

"Whoa, whoa." Masaomi frowned in concern. "Do you really have that much homework that you're typing so much?"

Mikado hesitated, pausing in tapping at the keys as his hand jolted again. "It's not…homework, exactly."

"Oh, I know! One of those chat rooms, right? Man, you need a break!"

"It's fine, Kida-kun." Insisted Mikado. "I just-"

"No no, say no more." Masaomi waved a dismissive hand at his friend and pushed the homework he'd been 'working on' aside. "We're going out!"

Sighing, Mikado knew it was useless to argue. "Where?"

"Somewhere really really relaxing. With really hot girls." The blonde decided; he was eyeing Mikado's spasming digits warily, as if they might suddenly lash out at him.

"Fine, fine."

And after a long search for Masaomi's hoodie (he somehow managed to lose it every time he came over), the two teenagers were on their way.

"Ah, so, relaxing places. I know this really cool park out east from here—oh, but there's also that giant fountain I showed you the other day; you remember it, right?"

Mikado could barely listen as his friend chattered on, feeling shy and self conscious with his fingers out in public. He really hoped that people weren't looking, since even when he put his hand in his pocket you could still see it…

"Hey." A warm palm slid over his own, clenching around his fingers and holding them down gently.

"K- Kida-kun?"

"This way, your fingers won't twitch, right?" Masaomi said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Is it a bad idea?"

"No, I just…w-won't people stare?"

Chuckling, Masaomi ducked around a group of businessmen. "So? We're just holding hands."

But we're both boys, Mikado wanted to protest. But something about the blonde's affectionate palm wrapped around his own didn't feel too bad. In fact…it felt kind of nice.

They walked in comfortable silence, ignoring the few odd glances they received, Mikado's digits giving feeble little shudders every now and then. It was a few more minutes, then a few more blocks, until the dark-haired male noticed:

"Ah, Kida-kun, my hand isn't twitching anymore."

"Okay," said Masaomi amiably, readjusting their hold on each other, "but can we stay like this, though?"

Mikado chortled softly; were best friends supposed to do this and feel warm inside like he did? He almost wanted to kick himself for being such a girl.

"Sure, um, Masaomi."

"…Hey, you just called me by my first name, Mikado! Wow!"

"I-Is that bad?"

"Nope, we're best friends; we should call each other like that!"

Mikado stared inconspicuously at their intertwined fingers.

"If you say so, uh…Masaomi."

"Ah, you did it again!" The blonde squeezed Mikado's hand joyfully. Smiling, Mikado looked away, wearing a slight flush.

Because when Masaomi was happy, he was happy.