Hikaru Shindou never thought making two friends get along would be harder than winning a high-stakes Go match, but here he was—trapped between Akira Touya and Waya Yoshitaka, two of the most stubborn guys on the planet.

"Listen, you two," Hikaru sighed, rubbing his temples. "We can all hang out together without turning this into some weird contest, right?"

"Of course," Akira said smoothly, flipping his green hair over his shoulder. "As long as Waya stops wasting time on pointless distractions instead of discussing serious Go strategy."

"Oh, sorry, Mr. 'I Only Breathe Go,'" Waya shot back, crossing his arms. "Maybe some of us like to have a life outside of staring at a board all day."

Hikaru groaned. "Here we go again."

They were supposed to be enjoying a casual afternoon at the arcade—his attempt to force them into neutral territory. But somehow, even away from the Go board, Waya and Akira found ways to make everything a competition.

"This game is simple," Hikaru explained, pointing to a rhythm game. "You just hit the buttons in time with the music. No Go strategy needed, okay?"

Akira looked at the flashing screen like it was an alien artifact. "This seems... unnecessary."

"Afraid you'll lose?" Waya smirked, cracking his knuckles.

A dangerous gleam sparked in Akira's eyes. "Of course not."

And just like that, it was war.

The two planted themselves in front of the machine, ready to duel. The music blasted, the screen lit up, and Waya immediately started grooving, fingers flying over the buttons with a cocky grin. Akira, on the other hand, was stiff, his movements precise but robotic.

"You're hopeless!" Waya laughed. "Where's the rhythm, Touya?"

Akira clenched his teeth and focused, improving bit by bit. But Waya was still ahead.

Hikaru, watching from the sidelines, had to admit it was nice seeing Akira struggle for once.

When the round ended, Waya threw up his hands in victory. "Ha! You can read a thousand-year-old Go match, but you can't follow a simple beat!"

Akira straightened his posture. "This game has no logical flow," he muttered.

"Excuses, excuses," Waya teased.

"Alright, alright," Hikaru cut in before Akira could declare an arcade vendetta. "How about something more your speed?" He dragged them to the air hockey table. "No music, no rhythm—just pure reflexes!"

Waya and Akira exchanged a look, then turned to Hikaru.

"Fine," Akira agreed.

"You're going down, Touya."

The puck flew, the game became a blur of attacks and counterattacks, and soon, Hikaru realized—this wasn't just about winning anymore.

It was about them having fun together.

By the time the game ended, the score was tied. Neither Waya nor Akira wanted to admit it, but they were both smiling.

Hikaru grinned. "See? You guys aren't so bad together."

Akira scoffed. "Don't push your luck, Shindou."

Waya chuckled. "Yeah, let's not get crazy here."

Hikaru should have known peace was temporary. After an afternoon of reluctant bonding at the arcade, they decided to grab food—bad idea.

"I'm telling you, ramen is the best choice," Waya declared, pointing dramatically down the street. "Quick, cheap, and delicious. What more do you need?"

Akira crossed his arms, unimpressed. "If speed is your only priority, then fine. But if you actually care about quality, sushi is the better option."

Waya rolled his eyes. "Oh, of course. Sushi. Because you're too fancy for normal food."

"It's not about being 'fancy,'" Akira countered, his voice sharp. "It's about having standards."

"Oh, sorry, Your Highness. Maybe next time I'll roll out a red carpet before I suggest a place to eat."

They had been standing on the sidewalk for ten minutes, bickering, while Hikaru—starving—just wanted anything to eat. He sighed, rubbing his stomach.

"Guys," Hikaru interrupted, "how did we go from having fun to fighting over food?"

Akira adjusted his scarf. "Because some people refuse to acknowledge the superiority of sushi."

Waya threw up his hands. "You hear this guy? He talks like a villain in a food anime!"

Hikaru groaned. "Alright, I'll decide. But if I do, no complaints. Got it?"

Waya and Akira exchanged a glance, then nodded.

Hikaru put his hands on his hips, thinking. Ramen sounded good—warm, filling, and easy. But sushi was great, too…

Then, like divine intervention, he spotted a place across the street.

"Boom! That's it!" Hikaru pointed excitedly.

Akira and Waya turned to look at the sign:

'Sakana Ramen & Sushi'

They stared. Then stared at Hikaru.

"…That's a cop-out," Waya muttered.

Akira sighed. "Typical Shindou. Always choosing the middle path."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Hikaru said, already marching toward the entrance. "You guys can argue about my decision later. I'm eating."

Waya and Akira exchanged another look before reluctantly following.

By the time they were inside, seated, and eating—Akira with his delicate sushi, Waya slurping up ramen—Hikaru smiled to himself.

It might have been cheating, but at least he wouldn't starve to death in the middle of a food war.

If Hikaru thought the food debate was bad, it was nothing compared to picking a movie.

"I'm not watching some dumb action flick with no plot," Akira stated, arms crossed.

"Oh, sorry, I forgot movies were only worth watching if they put you to sleep," Waya shot back. "What was that one you dragged us to last time? 'The Beauty of Slow Falling Leaves'? Bro, nothing happened!"

Akira scoffed. "It was a masterpiece. You just lack patience."

"And you lack a soul."

Hikaru groaned. "Guys! Can we go one hour without arguing?"

Waya and Akira both turned to him expectantly, waiting for him to be the tiebreaker—again.

Hikaru sighed. "Alright, let's compromise. We'll pick something that's not a total explosion-fest, but also something that doesn't put Waya in a coma."

After scrolling through the listings, they settled on a mystery-thriller. A little action, a little plot—safe choice.

Or so Hikaru thought.

The moment they got in line for tickets, people started whispering. He didn't pay attention at first, too focused on keeping the peace between Akira and Waya, who were now bickering over snack choices.

But then, he caught snippets of conversation.

"Aw, look! That guy's got two boyfriends."

"Lucky dude. I wish I had two guys fighting over me."

"Which one do you think he likes more?"

Hikaru froze.

Wait. WAIT.

His brain short-circuited as he glanced between Waya and Akira—one on each side of him, both arguing, both leaning in close as they tried to convince him why popcorn was superior to candy (or vice versa).

Oh no.

Oh no no no.

He looked around. Yup. People were definitely staring. Some with knowing smirks. A couple of teenage girls were giggling and whispering while sneaking glances their way. Someone even gave him a thumbs up.

Hikaru felt his soul leave his body.

Oblivious to the misunderstanding, Waya threw an arm around Hikaru's shoulder. "C'mon, man, tell Touya he's overthinking it. Popcorn is essential."

Akira, standing close on the other side, gave Hikaru an unimpressed look. "Do not let him influence your decision, Shindou. We both know candy is the smarter option. It lasts longer."

Hikaru couldn't breathe.

From an outsider's perspective, this 100% looked like a couple fighting over their shared boyfriend.

"Uhh, hey," Hikaru said, voice cracking. "Can you two… step back a little?"

Waya blinked. "Huh? Why?"

Akira frowned. "We're just talking."

Hikaru forced a strained smile. "Y-Yeah, but, uh—people are getting the wrong idea."

Waya followed Hikaru's glance to the staring crowd and immediately burst out laughing. "Pffft—OH MY GOD, THEY THINK—"

Akira went bright red. "W-What?!"

"Dude, we look like we're on a date!" Waya wheezed, gripping his stomach. "Like some tragic love triangle situation!"

Akira looked horrified. "That's ridiculous!"

One of the girls giggling nearby gasped. "Oh no, he's in denial."

Hikaru wanted to DIE.

"Alright, THAT'S IT," Hikaru snapped, shoving them both toward the entrance. "We're watching the stupid movie and then going home! No more arguing, no more misunderstandings, and NO MORE WEIRD COMMENTS!"

But as they walked into the theater, he could still hear Waya laughing under his breath.

Akira, meanwhile, muttered, "This is entirely your fault, Shindou."

And Hikaru, in pure exhaustion, just groaned.