A/N: My, my, how the time flies when I'm heavily distracted by the world. Sorry for the slightly longer wait, but hey, this chapter might make you folks happy. We're kicking up the levels, man (don't get too excited, these kids are dumb).

Enjoy.

Despite what most people thought, Momotarou Mikoshiba and Aiichirou Nitori had a good amount of similarities, the kind of traits you'd only discover by living with someone. They were both clutter kings, and if it weren't for the occasional hounding from clean-freak Rin Matsuoka, their reign amongst the valleys of their dirty laundry, mountains of junk, and textbook islands scattered across the floor would hold strong until graduation. Perhaps no one had ever told them the ole saying of an organized room makes for an organized mind, because as every upperclassman who had ever had to deal with these two would know, these kids were neurotically charged.

It was as if the universe had aligned the planets to put two reckless, accident-prone dorks in the same dorm room in the hopes that they would somehow figure out how to survive. Nitori was more responsible, but forgetful. Momo remembered everything, but didn't do shit. They had two first aid kits because on the weekly, sometimes even on the daily, one of them would get hurt, all with the grace of flopping fishes hitting the deck. Momo always remembered to eat, unlike Nitori, but Nitori remembered the five food groups, unlike Momo, who more than once claimed the Triple-Cheeseburger with the works was the prime example of all five food groups and there was nothing Nitori could say to convince him otherwise. For what it was worth, these kids grew closer to each other just on the simple fact that they found someone just as bad at living as they were, and isn't that how most friendships start anyhow?

But perhaps the biggest similarity these two shared was the daily Russian roulette of whether they were morning people.

Both Nitori and Momo had a 50-50 shot of waking up ready for the day or dreading the sun's existence, and more often than not, whoever won the morning battle would have to drag the other out of bed—no soldier left behind. Mornings when neither of them wanted to wake up would only bring brief moral struggles as Nitori would mumble we should go to school, Momo-kun, and Momo would mutter back we're already in school, we live here, and that was that. Back to bed. That is, until Rin-senpai, who knew all too well about Nitori's morning gambles, would slam open the door and force the two to go to class.

So, knowing they cherished their slumbers, you could see how Sunday mornings were sacred, and you could understand why when Nitori rolled over in bed and found an eager Momo crouched down, peering into his sleepy soul, he sighed. One would think he'd scream, but that's assuming Nitori had never woken up to Momo inches away from his face before ready to scheme the world, and that'd just be a lie, wouldn't it.

"Wakey wakey, senpai," Momo cooed, poking at Nitori's nose.

"Not yet," Nitori groaned, tucking his head under the covers.

"No, no, no," Momo said, tugging with Nitori for the sheets. "You promised we'd go shopping first thing in the morning if I did my homework, Nitori-senpai, and I did, so wake up!"

Yanking the covers off his senpai, Momo snickered at him as he curled up into a fetal position, shivering from the sudden wisp of breeze tickling his bare limbs. Days when Momo was the morning person on duty were particularly fun because all he had to do to wake up Nitori was pull out his beloved Pyunsuke in a jar and sing, "Oh, Pyuuuuuunsuke~! Nitori-senpai wants to say good moooorning to you~!"

These were the days Nitori vaguely hated Momotarou.

"Why can't I say good morning with Pyunsuke still in the jar?" Nitori whined, tucking his head under his pillow.

"But who could resist such a cute face?" Momo said, delicately pulling Pyunsuke out of his jar with his fingers. He slipped the little insect underneath Nitori's pillow. "Look at him!"

"I don't—waahhh, no!" Nitori jumped backwards so fast you could hear the onomatopoeic slam of his back hitting the wall as he inched his knees and feet closer to him to get away from Momo's prized stag beetle, and he yelled, "He doesn't have a face!"

Momo gasped, and held Pyunsuke up to his heart.

"You take that back."

Nitori remembered the days when the loudest his mornings ever got was when Rin's alarm clock went off, and now here he was having to apologize to an insect.

And so began Sunday.

To get to the bulk store, Momo and Nitori had to take the metro slightly into the city, and despite being nine in the morning, the train was full. Huddled close together by the inner passenger pole, Momo's chin hovered above Nitori's temple, bobbing with the movements of the train, and would occasionally bump into him.

"Sorry, Nitori-senpai," Momo whispered, "I didn't know so many people would be here."

"It's okay."

Honestly, what was more concerning to Nitori was how small he felt, his eyes once again being at level with Momo's Adam's apple. Behind him bumped two bulky middle-aged men, who would grunt their apologies over their shoulders. They were sort of rude, seemingly uncaring of the cubic space they occupied with their legs spread at a wide stance and their tendency to step back into Nitori, pushing him against Momo. It seemed everything was bumping into Nitori, bullying him in jerky directions—and it wasn't as if he was that small, but suddenly the world seemed so big. And this metro cart was too crowded, especially for a Sunday morning—why were there so many people pushing close against him?

He wanted to push back against the middle-aged men, but let's face it, he could barely fight against Momo in a wrestling match, much less dominate over these hunky masses, probably two bodyguards straight of the yakuza. He couldn't even tell if other people could realize that he was slowly getting crushed—did they even care that he might suffocate here? Meanwhile all he could really see was Momo's cool breathing as he inhaled and exhaled like a normal person. This wasn't that bad, Nitori thought, trying to comfort himself, trying to deny that he was slightly on the verge of hyperventilating, that everything would be all right if he could just get some room and it would be totally acceptable to ask for more room from these scary men behind him that were sort of trying to kill him. Sure, it didn't help that Nitori felt like he was shrinking, and that maybe the railroad tracks made the metro shaky and dizzying, and that his chest grew tight and short of breath, and oh man, things were not okay right now, but it could be okay if Nitori just focused and—

"Hey," Momo thumped his forehead down onto Nitori's, locking eyes. "You okay?"

"Huh?"

It was blaringly obvious that Nitori was not at all okay by the way his eyes shifted side to side and his shoulders hunched with each accidental push the guys behind him gave. Still, Nitori had never really been this nervous before, so Momo wasn't quite sure of what to do and figured immediate distraction was his best bet as he thudded his head with his senpai's, hoping a soft smile would calm him down.

"It's crowded," Nitori muttered, clutching his chest.

Ah, Momo realized.

It took approximately two seconds for Momotarou to grip onto Nitori's shoulders and twirl them both around so that Nitori stood closer to the gripping pole away from the men behind him. Taking a wide stepping stance to brace himself against the bumping crowd, Momo continued to hover his chin over his gentle senpai's head and said, "There we go. Better?"

It was still crowded, but the world had shrunken back to normal and the only tall thing apparent was the happy-go-lucky redhead towering above him as per usual.

"Yeah," he said, nodding as he leaned in to the comfort of his kouhai. "Thanks."

"Ugh," Momo plopped his chin down onto Nitori's temple, which surprised him, and groaned out, "This train ride is so long when you have to stand…"

"Uh," Nitori crossed his vision as he looked up at Momo's head, wincing from how unexpectedly heavy it was. "Um…"

It figured. Sure enough the guy who had just rescued Nitori from furthering his downward spiral into claustrophobia was now invading his personal space, which at this point Nitori chuckled at because how could he have expected anything else. And so he poked Momo's chest and said, "Don't lean on me."

"Wahh," Momo whined, "but your head's so comfy."

With every fidget of Nitori's head went Momo's chin, pure deadweight.

"And your head is so heavy!"

"Yeah, but you're not scared anymore, are you?" Momo nuzzled his chin down onto Nitori's head, stopping him from fussing around as he stood in shock. "Don't worry, Nitori-senpai. I can keep you safe."

A faint blush colored him amazed as Nitori tucked himself under Momo's chin, his face buried in his hands as he leaned onto Momo's chest. Ahh, who says something like that? Most of the time Momo sputtered out nonsense, but then there were times where the kid would say something profoundly wise or undeniably romantic and Nitori never knew what to say, just always blushed, stood there in awe, and murmured, "Momo-kun…"

This happened so regularly Nitori did actually wonder why people didn't take Momo a bit more seriously.

"I mean, one time I punched Nii-chan in the face and I'm still alive, so," Momo laughed, "I think I have good chances at winning a fight. Maybe—no, yeah, I can kick anybody's ass!"

And then Nitori remembered how much of a dork his kouhai was.

But still, Momo was right, the train ride wasn't as bad now that he had shielded Nitori from the crowd. It was odd how comfortable he felt tucked under the crook of Momo's neck, another intimate moment to add to their list of so-called "roommate bonding," that Nitori suppressed the idea that maybe yesterday's morning shower sort of… changed things? Why else would they be so unfazed? Perhaps showering with your roommate truly opens the door to a natural bond.

He looked up at Momo, who continued to rest his chin on Nitori's head as he looked out the train window. He wondered why none of this bothered him at all.

Momo loved the bulk store. Ever since he was little. It was economically savvy. It was industrially built. It required a member's card. He loved how vastly huge the bulk store was, since it was more of a factory than a store, and loved how he could buy fifty boxes of cereal for virtually the price of one. He loved that he could choose from a shopping cart or a moving wagon, ready to buy the whole damn store if he wanted to—and if it weren't for the fact that his mother threatened to take away the family member's card if he abused it, Momo wasn't gonna lie, he would have tried.

"Okay!" He whipped out a shopping cart from the stack and hopped in. "Our budget is 8,500¥, and we have a mission to use about 80% of it on origami paper, so let's go!"

Nitori stared at Momo sitting inside the shopping cart, his arm stretched in the air, pointing onward.

"Let's go!"

No one moved.

"Nitori-senpai," Momo side-glanced him, "um, I'm gonna… need you to push the cart." He tittered, hoping he didn't offend. "Please?"

Rolling his eyes, Nitori beckoned to Momo's silly desire and began pushing the cart towards the Arts & Crafts aisle, where they strolled down the long corridor of various office supplies, art supplies, and paper. Upon finding the origami paper, Momo stood up in the cart, to which worried Nitori said, "Oy! Momo-kun! Get down! You're going to hurt yourself!"

"I'll be fine if you keep holding the cart—ooh! Nitori-senpaiii, they have all sorts of cool patterns!" Momo began collecting as many bricks of origami paper packages in his arms, each a stack of 500 on sale for buy 4, get 1 free. "I'm gonna get one of each!"

"Be careful!"

Nitori's cell phone buzzed. Keeping one hand on the cart's handlebar to stabilize it, Nitori answered the call, "Hello?"

"Ai-chan! So, I'm buying balloons over here with Rei-chan, right? And we can't decide on which ones to buy. Rei wants to be classy or whatever and buy the white and black ones with some silver ones thrown in since that's your school's color scheme I guess, but I think we should get all sorts of colors since you're gonna have paper cranes, and there're some animal shaped balloons here too, so obviously that's cuter—"

"But if you have colorful balloons, it will take away from the paper cranes' beauty. By having a more grayscale variety of balloons, the focus will be on the initial centerpie—"

"Blah blah, what are you talking about, Rei-chan? Colorful balloons will only show how colorful the cranes are! Right, Ai-chan?"

"Um," Nitori said, barely grasping who was talking on the phone.

"Exactly! Ai-chan says he prefers the colorful balloons, so I win, Rei-chan!"

"Er, I—" Nitori stuttered, looking up at Momo who was trying to balance too many origami packages in his arms. "Momo! Put that stuff down!"

"Whaaat? That can't possibly be! Give me the phone, Nagisa-kun! Surely Nitori-san wouldn't be so tacky to choose that."

"Are you saying I'm tacky?"

"Uh… N-no…"

"Guys, I can't…" Nitori said, torn between whom to focus his attention on, until Momo started losing his balance. "Oh god, Momo-kun!"

Or so he thought, as he watched his heart attack of a kouhai stick out his tongue as he bent down and set the origami packages in the cart before saying, "Nah, I'm all right."

"Ai-chaaaan! I'm putting you on speaker phone! Tell Rei that you prefer colorful balloons!"

"Who's on the phone with you?" Momo asked, overhearing the loud screams coming from Nitori's phone as he held it from his ear at a distance.

Nitori covered the microphone end of his cell phone and said, "It's Nagisa-san. He wants to know if we want colorful or grayscale balloons."

"Why not both?"

Nitori shrugged and responded to Nagisa, "Er… Why not both?"

"Both?!" cried both Nagisa and Rei, apparently appalled by the compromise.

"Tell them it's a party now," Momo said. "Oh! And ask them if they know a place to buy a cake."

Nitori nodded. "By the way, Nagisa-san, we've decided to throw the third-years a going-away party."

"A party? I like the way you think, Ai-chan. Go big or go home, am I right?" Nagisa then whispered into the phone, "If you get expelled for all this, I'll put in a good word for you here at Iwatobi, okay? I'll take care of everything."

"Ex—expelled?! Don't tell me Nitori-san hasn't gotten school permission to do this! He could destroy his academic career!"

"Uh… We're going to try to avoid that, but… anyway, do you know any good bakeries?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah! I'll text you the addresses of my favorites—actually, no! I'll take you myself. We'll try the cakes together, it'll be fun!"

"Oh," Nitori hesitated, "that's all right… You don't have to do that…"

"Nonsense, we'll pick out the cake. When's this party?"

Nitori nodded over to Momo, "He wants to know when the party is."

"Saturday, around noon."

"Saturday," Nitori answered. "Around noon."

"Okay! On Wednesday, we'll go cake shopping to order it, okay, Ai-chan?"

"O-Okay…"

"Might I recommend picking out a sponge ca—"

"See you, Ai-chan~!"

"Hey—!"

Nagisa hung up, letting Nitori focus his attention back to Momo, who had filled the shopping cart with ten packages of origami paper, a total of 5,000 potential cranes. Dear god, Nitori shuddered at the concept of hand-folding such a gross amount, but even more disgusting was the fact that the entire load only cost 3,200¥, which was way below their budget, leaving more room for decorations and food (much to Momo's delight).

Still, now was a matter of how to procure all of these cranes into existence within a week.

Hours.

Hours had gone by of Momo nonstop folding paper cranes on the floor, trying to make his quota of 833 cranes before going to bed. Nitori tried to help, sure, but his hand cramped and he got bored, and frankly, this was insane. He propped up his laptop on his bed so Momo could see and played movies, which only ended up distracting him and not Momo, who had folded so many cranes that he was now capable of doing it without even looking down at his hands.

"Eat more of your food," Nitori nagged, pointing at his take-in meal he brought from the cafeteria for Momo.

Earlier in the day Nitori had taken the twelve loaves of bread still leftover to Sousuke, who had convinced one of the cafeteria ladies to let them store the bread in the freezer until Friday so they wouldn't stale by the party. Nitori didn't know how Sousuke managed to accomplish this and Sousuke didn't explain, but he also hadn't explained where he was going to store the paper cranes, which he said he would pick up every morning. A man of many mysteries, Nitori concluded, and figured he probably shouldn't ask.

"Feed me," Momo said, staring blankly at the computer screen, which played some sports anime about surfing Nitori watched from time to time. "We should pick up surfing."

"Okay, one, I'm not feeding you," Nitori said. "And two, we're not going surfing. You don't even know how."

"But it looks so cool, Nitori-senpai!"

The only way to truly convince Momotarou to take a break from folding paper cranes was having Nitori take over as he ate, and they took turns as they continued watching the surfing anime. Yet, midnight crept up on them and the school week started again the next morning, so Nitori shut off his laptop to turn in for the night, much to Momo's disappointment (they were only six episodes away from finishing the second season, which didn't seem so bad).

Momo, meanwhile, kept folding paper cranes. Crane after crane after crane.

It was half past midnight and he was folding paper cranes.

It was one in the morning and he was still making cranes.

It was a quarter to two and Momo finally yawned and realized he would have only four hours of sleep tonight, maybe.

It was two-thirty and Momo understood he needed to reevaluate his life choices.

"Oh no," Momo looked up at the top bunk and considered all the work it would take for his body to get up there, and then peered ahead of him to his peaceful, sleeping senpai, and whispered, "Psst… Nitori-senpai…"

"Hmm?" Nitori hummed, not quite awake in the slightest.

"Can I sleep with you?"

"Huh?"

"Can I sleep with you?"

"Is your…" Nitori yawned, snuggling into his pillow. "mm, bed… broken?"

"No, but I'm tired and the bed is too high."

"Okay…" Frankly Momo was surprised it was that easy to convince Nitori, even more so that he would say, "Get in, then…"

And with one lazy scooch closer to the wall, Nitori attempted to pat the space on the bed in front of him to invite Momo, but really, he pat once and forgot what he was doing as he started to drift back into dreamland. There was a high chance Nitori wasn't even fully conscious, that he might have been sleep-talking, but Momo didn't care and figured he'd deal with the reprimands in the morning. For now, he crawled into bed with the sleeping boy, tucking himself under the covers and cooed, "Goodnight, senpai."

"Mmhmm." Nitori rolled over to the other side, gone, a soft snore escaping his puckered lips.

Now, Momo knew this was risky because Momo tended to… sprawl. And drool. And toss and turn. And basically, Momo knew he was the worst bed buddy to have, as he would learn from childhood sleepovers, so it was imperative that Momo attempt with all his might to remember Nitori sleeping next to him so as to avoid slapping him in the face, rolling on top of him, crushing him, drooling on him, whatever crazy thing he did in his sleep—it was Momo's only prayer that night to just conk out and sleep like a rock in one position for four hours.

And with this final thought, he fell asleep.

Six in the morning was probably when Momo and Nitori woke up, Sousuke thought, so he knew the chances of them being awake before then were slim. This was obvious after knocking on the door with no response. Gently, he opened their dorm room door, noticing the lights were still off. It was a bit important no one knew he was even here, so he quietly shut the door behind him before turning his attention to his underclassmen, and he said, "Hey—"

And that's when Sousuke noticed there were two people in the bottom bunk.

That Nitori and Momo were sleeping together, tangled in each other's arms.

Not very gracefully, really, what with Momo's mouth wide open as he drooled on the pillow, a pool of saliva just short of sliding down onto Nitori's head. Nitori's mouth smeared against Momo's neck, half-open as he snoozed, his arms and legs laced with Momo, whose body attempted to sheet itself over the tiny boy, almost pressing onto him panini-style. And yet they seemed to be comfortable, with the blanket weaved between them.

But wow, Sousuke thought. They were already at this level in their relationship.

In the corner of his eye, Sousuke noticed a garbage bag filled with paper cranes, and so like a rogue with a mission, he snatched it up, mentally bid adieu to his underclassmen, and headed for the door. It would be the soft moan Nitori let out that would make Sousuke freeze in his tracks for a moment and look over his shoulder, slightly afraid of what he would see.

Nitori had curled up under Momo's arms, and then murmured, "I'm cold…"

And Momo, apparently stirred enough to even hear that, swung his leg over Nitori, bringing the blanket up with him, and cocooned the both of them under the sheets.

Sousuke gripped onto the door handle.

These fucking kids.