"Shiro..."
"Kuroh..."
The two stared blankly at each other.
"Uh," Shiro started, "you go ahead. I was... I didn't have anything important to say."
The black-haired man leaned forward and gazed intently at the other. "No. You go first."
"Really, it's-"
Kuroh extended an arm, cutting off the white-haired high schooler, and shook his head. He reached into a pocket with the other arm and pulled out a recording device. "As Master Michigen Iwa says-"
"You really don't have to-"
Kuroh pressed the button and some silly proverb spewed out of it. After it had stopped, he put the device away and sighed, a blush staining his cheeks. "See, Shiro? You should go first."
"Okay, okay!" The brown-eyed boy took a deep breath. "Kuroh, I need you."
What? Kuroh's breath sped up and he felt flustered. "I don't get it." His head span. Shiro... NEEDS me? A silly smile crept across his face.
"Are you even listening to me? I said I need-"
"Yes, Shiro! I need you too! Neko isn't here, we can do it now- I promise I'll be gentle!"
"NO!" Shiro appeared mortified. "I just said... I need you to make some rice..." He held up an empty bowl and a pair of chopsticks (A/N: WOOOO CHOPSTICK CAMEO). "We ran out..."
He had been rejected. Kuroh had been rejected. Kuroh had been-
"AAAAGGHHHHH!"