Setting: SEALED School AU
Toya's PoV
Notes: An actual attempt at writing a confession. It's a different scenario than the one in "A Day of Rain", the other side story I posted outside of this collection (which is also a [failed] confession piece in the school setting). Sorry if that was confusing..

Also, it's too long to be a drabble at all. (I don't want to keep spamming the tag with short fics, so please forgive me...)

"I like you."

Ah, thinks Toya, it's this again.

He looks aside at the boy standing next to him, fidgeting and not meeting his eyes. His classmate is serious about everything, too serious sometimes, and so Toya knows that Sho is serious about this too. Sho isn't the type of person who would confess on a crush; he is the type to think carefully and deeply about his actions, about the consequences, and judge the outcome for himself. So there is no way Sho did not foresee what Toya's usual answer to these confessions will be.

And yet here he is, looking so unusually beside himself that it seems as though Sho had only confessed because he wanted to relieve the burden of carrying these feelings. He's really serious about this, Toya can't help but think once more, and he focuses back to looking out the window they are both standing next to.

"Thank you. That makes me happy," he says, the usual answer to the usual confession. Happiness is not quite the word to describe what he is feeling, but he has learned it is the gentlest, kindest word he can use. He owes this much to the person who confesses, to the person who has built up enough courage to do so, no matter what the reason is. The words are automatic now, and so he says it to Sho too.

Sho lets out a quiet breath, and Toya gets the feeling that his stock answer was indeed foreseen and expected. Sho's Gift is vision, after all, and so he has surely seen this outcome. Then, thinks Toya, he must know what will come next.

The fact that Sho has foreseen the outcome makes things easier. Toya will not have to worry about Sho's feelings if Sho already knows the answer and is prepared to hear it. Still, it surprises him that Sho confessed at all; in his opinion, confessions are done on the sliver of hope that there is a chance to be had. No one else has Sho's Gift, after all, so no one else will be able to see the outcome, and that uncertainty grants hope. Yet here Sho is, the only one who can see the result, the only one who knows for certain that there is no hope to pursue, and still he confessed.

Sho is still waiting for his reply, for his inevitable rejection, but now Toya can't stop wondering why. It seems so illogical to change everything between them in an instant, when Sho can see the future and predict that Toya will reject him. Or will he? Did Sho see something else? Things should have been much simpler now, but instead Toya feels confused and intrigued. What future did Sho see that made confessing worth risking everything? What future is Sho anticipating right now?

So instead of delivering his usual rejection line, he turns to Sho. Let me see this future you've seen, he thinks.

"You must already know the answer. Why did you do it?"

"Confess?" Sho asks to clarify, but the steady tone in his voice tells Toya that he has anticipated this question too. The thought that his actions can be predicted like this, that he can follow such a predictable line of events as foreseen by Sho, irritates him.

"Yes, confess. Surely you know my answer." His voice is irritable now, and he stops. There is no reason to take out his frustration on Sho. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to speak to you this way. I'm just a little confused."

"So, it's a no after all." Sho turns to look at him, the first time since he confessed. His eyes are still determined, but he is wavering now. "May I ask why? Is it because you don't think of me that way?"

Sho hasn't answered his question, but Toya humours him anyway. He looks at his classmate, his friend, the one who is always too serious, too meddlesome, too kind-hearted, too straight-forward. It's not that he doesn't like him. He rather enjoys spending time with Sho. So what exactly does he feel?

Disappointed, comes the immediate answer, because now things cannot be the same between them. It's a stupid reason because that has never bothered him before, but now it does. He treasures his friendship with Sho, wants to be with him always, and now that Sho has confessed something will have to change. With others, it was easy to keep acting like nothing changed, but Sho is different to him. He realizes now that Sho is closer to his heart than he had previously thought, and now he is worried about their relationship breaking apart when it shouldn't matter at all.

Disappointed, he thinks, because he had hoped Sho would be different. Sho is not the first one to confess; he is one in several. Toya is not naïve enough to believe that all of them were pure and true—he understands his breeding, the allure of his social class and standing, the benefits he can bring to a relationship. Sho is not the type of person to care about those things, but that's not the least of Toya's worries. He understands too that his innate ability to excel attracts attention to him, how it isolates him from others, so much that he cannot tell the difference between love, strategy, and admiration. He has never been in love, he realizes, and in that sense he envies Sho for looking so sure of his feelings.

Disappointed, he now knows, because a part of him finds the thought of being in a relationship with Sho attractive. He looks at his classmate, still waiting patiently for an answer, and thinks of the time they have spent together and how those moments have changed him. He wants more, and it doesn't matter to him whether it is purely friendship or in a new relationship with each other. He just wants to be with Sho. But he doesn't want a relationship if it is admiration on Sho's side; he treasures Sho too much to want that. Gods, and he has never been in love before—he isn't even sure of himself. He has never agreed to anything he wasn't certain of, and this is no different.

"I don't know," he says finally, a surprisingly weak conclusion after all the thinking he had just done, an answer that sounds so off-handed and trivial. "I don't know what it feels like to love someone. How do you know you're in love with me, Sho, and not just mistaking admiration for love?"

Sho's gaze is no longer wavering. "If you're asking me to spell out the difference, there isn't anything I can say to convince you. I love you. One day, I woke up and realized that I am in love with you. I just want to be with you, so much that it hurts, and if I don't say anything now you might end up with someone else, and I can't stand that thought. I've never been in love before either, so I don't know if this is real or if it's just admiration, like you've said. But I want to find out together. With you, Toya."

Toya smiles at that, at how simple and straight-forward Sho's answer is. There are no flattering lists, no frills or pretty words to convince him, no mentions of fate or destiny, even if Sho may be the only person in the world with the credibility to say so. All Sho gave him was the simple truth. How very much like Sho.

His smile must have encouraged Sho, because he relaxes too. "How about you, Toya? Do you want to be with me?"

Toya looks at him, thinks of the future Sho must've seen that has led to this moment. He thinks of the future ahead of them, of the future he hopes to see with the person standing beside him. It's risky, but if Sho is willing to try, then he is too.

"Alright," he says. "Let's find out together, Sho."