A/N: If you're still here for the ride, it's about to get weird. You'll decide if that's a good thing or not.

Enjoy.

For his senpai, Momo would come up with something.

Thing is, coming up with ideas is hard, man.

It was already Saturday morning and Momotarou came up with diddly squat, spent all night lying in bed, looking up at the ceiling, and trying to conjure the genius of the prank gods, but came up with nothing. Absolutely nothing. As he slugged his way off the top bunk, Momo greeted Nitori, who was already getting dressed, with a disheartened mumble.

"It's still a little early," Nitori said, noticing Momo's dejection. "Want to feed the ducks real quick?"

When in doubt, a change of scenery is always a source of inspiration, right?

So there they were, strolling down the park by the academy, in search of ducks. Their best bet was the bench just by the small manmade lake, where a little floral island rested just in the center. They took their seats, setting the garbage bag of bread pieces between them, and felt the cool breeze blow against them as they waited for ducks to show up.

Ten minutes went by and not a damn living creature came.

"Are you kidding me," Momo mumbled as he stood up from the bench, observing his radial perimeters and threw his arms in the air as he cried out, "What is this!"

Nitori had been casually throwing pieces into the lake, watching little minnows nip at them in scattered frenzies. The silence they shared as they waited for ducks to arrive was actually rather nice, but he guessed Momo was beginning to get bored, and well, they did have a giant bag of bread to get rid of—not including the bread still sitting in their dorm room. So he handed some pieces to Momo and said, "Just feed the fish."

"Where are the freaking ducks?" Momo kept switching his gaze, desperately trying to find them in the park.

But Momo had a trick up his sleeve. One time Seijuro taught him how to make a duck call, so tucking his pointer finger into his thumb as he made a fist, he brought his hand up to his mouth. The next part was tricky, because he was never sure if he was supposed to squeeze his lips or his fist as he cawed out, or if there was any squeezing involved, but he attempted to quack, only to end up blowing pathetic air into his hand. Again and again he tried, failing miserably each time, failing so miserably that even… even Nitori-senpai was… laughing at him.

"Stop," Nitori giggled out. "You're terrible."

So supportive.

"It's not easy, okay?" Momo defended. He blew again, failing. "I'll get it." He blew again, failing. "Hold on." He blew again, failing. "Just—goddamn it—"

"Oh my god, stop." Nitori, at this point, couldn't stifle his laughter.

"No. I'm gonna get this!"

After a few more pathetic attempts, Nitori realized enough was enough. This was his only chance, probably, to do a senpai's job and show Momotarou how a proper duck call was done. So, with the ease of an entire childhood spent with his siblings calling out to ducks in their vast backyard, Nitori quacked through his fist, his hands echoing the call far out into the distance. It wasn't much of a talent, but these types of things were easy to pick up when you had siblings to entertain.

At first, two ducks popped out from the floral island in the middle of the lake. Then two more. Then five ducks swooped down from the sky, landing perfectly in the water to paddle their way towards Nitori and Momo. A nice set of nine ducks to feed. So, Nitori reached over to the garbage bag to grab a handful of bread when suddenly, Momo yanked the trash bag from off the bench and dumped all the bread pieces out of it.

For a moment, those ducks knew heaven.

And in heaven, it rained bread.

"Momo!" Nitori jumped up in shock, looking at all the scattered pieces being nabbed up by the ducks and minnows. Like fallen cherry blossoms, but white bread. All over their brink of the lake. His shoulders eased as he watched the birds guzzle down each piece, and said, "We're probably gonna make these guys so fat."

Momo crouched down to the lake, peering into one particular duck's eyes, and in a tone borderline obsessed, he said, "We'll become their gods."

A few crows swooped down to the lake, grabbing a bread piece with each dive. This should have been the sign that Nitori and Momo should have left, but unbeknownst to the danger of crows, they stayed and watched as more ducks arrived, and more crows, and some sparrows, and larger fish, and even more ducks, and even more crows, and oh god, ibises came and started picking at bread pieces and the ducks with their long beaks. The ducks quacked, the ibises squawked, the crows cawed, and the fish died as they were guzzled down beaks.

Within seconds, an entire biosphere had arrived before them, attacking each other for bread.

"Oh god," Nitori cringed.

"Holy shit," Momo whispered.

The two had created chaos.

They weren't even sure if some of the animals would survive in the end as the aerial Hunger Games took place before their eyes. As feathers and poop scattered everywhere, they finally understood the need to escape and agreed to never toss that much bread into one location ever again. But still, Momo was amazed at the sight. How many birds flocked the water? Fifty? A hundred? Even more? Their feathers fluffed into another, their wings flared out and flapped, their necks swooned and jerked everywhere—a horde of birds of different colors, all on the water. It was crazy; it was beautiful.

That is, aside from the poop.

"Ugh," Nitori moaned, looking over his shirt covered in loose feathers, poop, and dirt. "I'm going to go take a shower."

This was something Momo half-heard, as the sight of a thousand birds lingered in his brain, his imagination taking flight—and then came the idea, so beautiful it was practically art. Momo wondered if he should wait after Nitori's shower to tell him or to just take the opportunity now and rush to the communal showers. After all, this was big, and he needed to take a shower anyway.

Meanwhile, Nitori turned on the faucet, setting the showerhead temperature on lukewarm and hummed as the water fell down his scalp. He leaned back against the tile wall, facing the plain white shower curtain each stall came with. His duck towel rested on the rod towards the right to avoid getting soaked, his shampoos rested in the provided shower rack, and his loofa hung just off his wrist by its rope cord. All was right in the world to begin his shower.

Until Momo shoved the shower curtain open, shouting, "Nitori-senpai!"

"AAAHHH," Nitori screamed, his brain malfunctioning at the sight of Momo stark naked in front of him.

"AHHHH," Momo screamed back, smiling?

"WHA—MOMO—WHAT—" Nitori panicked, turning himself around. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"I came up with a new plan!" Momo said, stepping inside the shower next to Nitori and pulling the shower curtain closed again.

"What," Nitori panted, appalled by the sheer audacity Momotarou had to just join him in the shower, as if this wasn't a big deal, as if this wasn't totally invading Nitori's personal space, and so he meekly took his hand and nudged Momo back against the curtain. "Go away!"

"But you have to listen to my plan!" Momo reached for the bar of soap and began lathering himself under the water. "Because it's kind of amazing. See, when we were feeding the bir—"

"Momo!" Nitori cowered in the corner. "Are you serious? This couldn't wait until after the shower?"

"Huh?" Momo realized perhaps priorities did exist, and shrugged. It was probably better to get cleaned first before discussing his idea. "Oh, okay."

Momo had boundary issues, that much was known, but Nitori never thought he'd be standing naked next to his kouhai, sharing a stall in the communal showers. Oh god, what if people heard them? What would they say? This went beyond what roommates did, right? He peered over his shoulder, noticing Momo continue to lather himself up with the soap, and not leave. Was he seriously just going to join Nitori's shower?

"Go into another stall!" Nitori tried to push him out again, trying not to touch anything but Momo's shoulders.

"But I'm here." Broadening his stance in the showers, Momo fought off Nitori's weak shoves, and joked, "What, are you shy?"

Nitori turned around again, his shoulders hunched as he held his elbows and tried to hide himself from Momo, and it had dawned on the dimwitted redhead that perhaps his gentle senpai had even lower self-esteem than he thought, that his senpai might have been body-conscious. Nitori was on the smaller side compared to Momo in height and muscle, but it would be ludicrous to be insecure about his body, Momo thought. So, with one swift twirl of Nitori, Momo faced Nitori's widening eyes, gripped onto his shoulders, and firmly told him, "Nitori-senpai, you're beautiful just the way you are. Very manly."

His older brother Seijuro always told Momo that it was very important to compliment your peers every once in a while. Boosted team morale.

"Whaaaat?" Nitori was horrified. What did that mean? What was going on? Was this a confession? What was he supposed to do? Why in the shower, of all places, did he have to deal with this? Nitori didn't want to be there, didn't want to exist, didn't want to be naked with Momo in the shower—and oh god, what if people heard him.

His eyes darted everywhere to avoid Momo's intense gaze, until they accidentally looked down. Good god, he covered his eyes with his hands so fast, yelping, "Oh god, you're so naked. You're so naked."

"Yes, I am, Nitori-senpai." Serious as a man in battle ready to meet his death, Momo knew he had to break the societal standards of male beauty in Nitori's head, and so he added, "We are naked and we are beautiful, senpai."

"This is not what I want to hear!" Nitori shook all over, feeling the embarrassment within him color him bashful. There was no escape to the madness that was Momotarou Mikoshiba's good intentions. As he heard his idiotic kouhai continue to preach body positive mantras to him, he realized there was no point in fighting against the inevitable. The guy was dead-set on conquering Nitori's innate discomfort to be naked with him. So with two long breaths, Nitori slowly opened his eyes and sighed, "Fine."

"It's just us," Momo tried to comfort him. "Just us bonding in the shower."

Nitori cringed. There were no bounds to Momo's body confidence. If he was used to being half-nude while swimming anyway, what difference does a Speedo make, right? An exposed penis, that's what, but Nitori tried not to think about it. If Momo was going to share a shower with him, then Nitori might as well take advantage of it—oh god, not like that, he thought, trying to get the burning image of Momo's nether regions out of his brain, and handed his loofa to Momo. It was always a struggle to wash his back, so if Momo was going to stay, he could at least be useful.

Nitori turned around before muttering, "Can you… wash… my back?"

Momo didn't even hesitate. As he began scrubbing Nitori's back, Nitori focused on one tile in the wall, pep talking himself through the lathering.

This wasn't weird.

Don't make it weird.

Everything was pretty peachy on Momo's end, as he scrubbed Nitori's shoulders, down to the center of his back, down to his waist, down to his hips, down to his… his… oh.

Momo had never noticed how plump Nitori's butt was, how nicely shaped it was, how cute it looked just there with a little mole on the right cheek just like the one under his eye. Did his vision lose sight of the world as he gazed at Nitori's ass? He wasn't ashamed to say maybe. Momotarou was a man of fine arts, alright? The way a person might look at the statue of David and think, hot damn, that's a good looking piece of marble. And if a fine ass graced upon him, Momo was always going to be there to appreciate it. This wasn't weird. This was appreciation.

"Momo-kun?" Nitori wondered why Momo had gotten quiet all of a sudden, which made him paranoid. Did Momo see something weird, like an oddly shaped mole? Oh god, what if he had cancer. How long would he have gone on before skin cancer would have killed him because he can't see everything behind him, and if it weren't for Momo's crazy ass interrupting his shower, he would have never known. But this was the moment of truth, so he glanced over his shoulder to hear his fate—only to see Momo looking down at… down at his… He gasped. "Momo! What—what are you doing?"

Honestly, Nitori should have known better.

"Huh?" Snapped out of his trance, Momo jumped shaking his hands. "No, no, no!"

Ah, shit, the same thing happened when Momo noticed Rin's cleavage.

Listen, the guy finds beauty in all places. Is that so wrong?

But perhaps Momo shouldn't have said, "Don't worry! Your body's beautiful, Nitori-senpai."

Nitori covered his butt, shouting, "Don't look at me!"

"No—what I mean—"

"Stop, just stop," Nitori pleaded, lathering himself as quickly as he could so he could just leave the shower.

It got weird.

Oh god, it got so weird.

They both stood in silence, shampooing their hair, neither of them leaving the stall until they were both done with the shower. Their hands fumbled when they passed each other bottles and soap. Their eyes darted everywhere but at each other.

"I still want to tell you my plan, Nitori-senpai," Momo muttered, letting the water rinse his hair out.

Nitori took a deep breath, having tamed down his frustration again, and as peacefully as he could muster, he said, "Okay."

And to this, Momo smiled and whispered, "Paper cranes."

Paper cranes all over the pool.

"I think it'd look cool," Momo said. "Kind of beautiful, too."

As Nitori imagined it, imagined all the different paper cranes in their separate patterns scattered across the water surface, he nodded, agreeing. It would be pretty.

It got a little less weird.