Five days. Five days without looking at him. Five days without talking to him. Five days without hearing him speak to him. Five days without responding to his text that had been sitting in the inbox for four days straight. Five days without those casual touches he didn't know he needed. Five days without smiling, laughing or joking with him. Five long, painful days without meeting the gaze he felt on his skin like a touch. Five very, very long days without hearing his voice.

Hizashi was sure he was going to go insane, but he needed this change. He hadn't thought he'd hold so strong, so firm, in not speaking to Shouta but he had. He hadn't broken once but God knows it tore him up inside like nothing else. The way Shouta seemed on the cusp of saying something to him when he would leave the staff room. How those dark eyes locked onto his with full lips parting slightly with brows twitching together.

Full lips moving silently before that gaze dropped down to the desk with spots of pink forming over his cheeks as he pressed those lips together. His face fucking behind those loose black curls. It tore his heart out of his damn chest. Oh, it hurt so fervently to see Shouta, his best friend, reacting so quietly. Keeping himself down. He wants so badly to throw his arms around him and wail. To beg, plead, and whimper for forgiveness for his cold treatment. He wants to stroke those stubble cheeks.

To stroke curls with his hands and hold him so tightly it hurt. He wants Shouta back in his life. He wants to talk to him so badly. Was Shouta remorseful? Was he embarrassed? Ashamed? He had not a clue, but he wanted nothing more than to find that out. He wants nothing more than to know what it was that kept him ticking. If Shouta missed him too. He didn't know in the beginning what he'd wanted to say but now? Now he had a solid idea, an outline, of what he wanted to talk to Shouta about.

And in those five days, he'd sworn he never missed someone the way he missed Shouta. He missed having fun with the black-haired man. He missed holding Eri in his arms. He missed the warmth that always wrapped in his chest like a comforting blanket when he was leaning into his side to nudge him playfully. The hugs they had only begun giving one another. The way he'd already long since memorized Shouta's scent. He missed having Shouta play with him in that joking, awkward manner of his.

To watch his face turn red with the realization when something came across flirtier than it seemed. He misses Shouta. He misses him like nothing else. It was killing him to have to be so close to the black-haired man but so far away. To be there within seeing, hearing, and touching distance only to deny himself all of it. To look away when he felt those dark eyes on him. Being so close, knowing what he wanted to say, and not having the guts to do it was killing him.

He hated curling up in bed with tears welling on his lashes over the agony. The heartbreak from Thursday night that seemed to reside in his chest permanently. What did he do? What did he say when his sons asked for Shouta? When they questioned why he wasn't coming round? It tore him up. Five long days letting himself be torn up and dismayed all while he kept Shouta in that darkness. In that limbo. What else did he do? What else did he say to the black-haired man?

How did he approach him after all of this time spent silent with one another? When Shouta hadn't dared approach him, but he hadn't made it easy, had he? He'd kept his head down, ate his lunch in his car, and went home at the end of the day. He didn't leave much leeway for him to talk to Shouta. It felt like a slap in the face to be talking so casually with Thirteen, Snipe or Yagi. It felt like he was spitting right in Shouta's face with how casual he was with his other work friends.

How friendly he was with them yet he breathed not a word to Shouta. He felt like he was alienating him, which was the last thing he wanted. He had determined that Wednesday, for better or for worse, they were going to talk. He was going to invite Shouta over to his home and he was going to make sure that they talked like adults. He wasn't going to let this stretch on. Not when he wanted Shouta there for Christmas. He wants nothing more than to have the black-haired man close again.

To enjoy a glass of wine with the black-haired man as Eri opened her presents. Introduce him to his sisters and brother. To introduce him to his mothers. It was a bit odd, but he wanted them to meet Shouta. He wants them to have a fair meeting with the black-haired man. If Oboro and Nemuri were going to be there then he wanted Shouta there with him. But what did he do? What did he do to mend the gap that just seemed to get so much wider with each passing hour?

He refused to let it be the end of their friendship but what did he do? When did he find the time to tell Shouta that he wanted to talk? After all, they did have much to discuss. Just like that day in his office but this time he wouldn't let himself get distracted by his attraction to Shouta. He wouldn't let himself get distracted by his beauty. By the familiarity. He wouldn't let himself get distracted by those quiet desires to touch the black-haired man.

He'd let himself get too comfortable and look at what's happened. He's kissed the black-haired man, puked his guts out, and he'd then distanced himself. The silence between them was painfully loud. It was painfully heavy. He didn't know how this all spiraled out of his control, but he was determined to fix it. But he found himself struck voiceless when he met with Shouta. He found himself unsure of how to proceed when it came to the black-haired man.

Five long days of silence between them following that unfortunate Thursday. He didn't know how to bring it up. How to tug Shouta to the side and sit him down for the talk that he now knew how to bring up. The way that he wanted to mention everything was going to be smooth. It was going to be across the table from one another while they talked. He needed distance in between. And he hated that he missed Shouta so fervently. He hated that he missed his best friend so much, but he did.

He does so much that he doesn't know what to do with himself. Laying out on his bed, staring up at his bland ceiling, he stretched his arms out while his legs dangled over the side of the bed. The house was quiet. His bedroom quiet save for the quiet sound of a cat licking themselves. The light jingle of a collars bell that rang out to fill the quiet of his bedroom. His phone was sitting silently on the bed next to his right hand with his hair fanned above his head. What was he going to do?

Tuesdays were always more the bane of his existence than Mondays were and today? Today it felt harder. He'd seen Shouta so many times today that it tugged at his heart. When he'd come in after lunch to grab his laptop off of his desk in the staff room he'd glanced at Shouta. Finding those dark eyes on him the way he had been since returning to work when he scooped his laptop up. Watching full lips parting slightly before pinching together.

Dark eyes lowering away from him with fingers fiddling with the juice pouch that Shouta devoured like nobody's business. He'd been quick to rush out of the staff room with his laptop under his arm. He wished he could say that he wasn't avoiding Shouta. That he wasn't hiding himself away from the black-haired man. That he wasn't running away but he was. Even if he gave himself until Wednesday to talk to Shouta it still felt like he was running away from him.

It still felt like he was feeding into the distance in between them. The gap growing larger the longer they went without talking. It hadn't even been this bad after Halloween. They'd somehow swallowed, grinned, and bore it until he decided enough was enough. But now? Now they weren't talking. They were making that awkward, guilty eye contact with one another before he ran off. Pretending that he didn't see the longing etched on Shouta's face. That he didn't see the heartbreak in those dark eyes.

That he didn't know that, on some level, Shouta missed him too. But if that was the case why didn't Shouta try to reach out? Was he waiting for him to say something first? It would make the most sense, wouldn't it? Sighing out to himself, he lifted his arms from the bed with his hands coming up to rub at his face. Fingers sneaking beneath his glasses to scrub at his face fervently before dragging his fingers down his cheeks. Tugging at the skin below his eyes before sighing out.

He dropped his hands down to his stomach which cramped angrily at him. He picked at his lunch today. He'd hardly had the appetite to eat his meal properly and God knows it was coming back to bite him in the ass. Kneading at his stomach with fingers digging in firmly, he sighed out once more to himself. A slow, even exhale before sliding his hands over his stomach to rub at the cramping thing. He then sat up with a groan as his hair slid over the bed with a whisper as he sat up right.

Locks resting heavily against his back when he found his gaze flicking to his phone. Shouta had reached out, hadn't he? He'd texted him but he'd been ignoring it. Putting it off. He didn't know what he was doing with himself. He felt like some teenager stuck in his room mooning over a lost crush. Over a friend being mad at him. He slid his hands over his stomach down to his thighs where they twisted into the fabric of his pants.

Nemuri had offered to take the boys off of his hands for the afternoon, but they'd be coming home any minute. The darkening sky promised the return of his children any minute for dinner. He should get started on it, shouldn't he? Or can he simply order out? Ordering out sounded nice. He wanted to get some horribly bad for him Chinese food. He knew his sons orders like the back of his hand. Turning in his spot on the edge of the bed, he reached for his phone then straightened up.

Unlocking his screen, he opened the app and he began to scroll through the menu. Tapping on what his boys would want. Going to the luncheon menu for himself to get his go to meal as he added it all to the cart. And he pushed himself up on his feet which he swayed uncertainly when he squeezed his phone. Causing the case to protest lightly when he turned the screen off then shoving his phone into his back pocket. Tea, coffee or juice? What did he want to drink to help his head?

He needed to drink something if he wanted to continue functioning this afternoon. He didn't understand what was dragging him so low save for his heartache, but it was tugging at him. It left him feeling heavy. All of him felt ready to sink to the floor and he knew if he did that, he'd never get up again. He'd never made his way through the house. He'd curl up and stay on the floor where he wanted to be. He sighed out quietly to himself when he forced his legs to move as he made his way forward.

The light thud of his socked feet moving over the carpeted floor was deafening as he made his way across the room to his open bedroom doors. Nudging them open wider, he stepped into his small hallway which he quickly walked down. The floor trembled lightly under his feet with his hard steps as he made his way into the kitchen. He slid his hands up through his hair to scratch at his head idly when he paused next to the fridge. What did he want?

He needed something to put a bit of pep to his step today. He had more than enough grading on his plate that he needed to get done before tomorrow. The final grading that would mark his goodbye at the school. He'd had a few students come up to him asking if they'd see him after the break, which he unfortunately denied. There were quite a few long faces when he replied he wasn't coming back. A few but it was more than enough for him to feel touched.

He shuffled into the kitchen when he turned to the fridge to tug it open. Grabbing a remaining bottle of water from the shelf, he shut the fridge door with a thud when he then shuffled to the counter. Grabbing at the back of potato chips he'd bought the other day before making his way across the kitchen. The sound of his feet thudding over the floor deafeningly filled the quiet ever so slightly no matter how brief. He made his way into the living room where he threw himself onto the couch.

It was rare he watched TV lately and he found himself reaching for the remote. Turning the screen on, he decided to flip to the news with his legs curling beneath him as he cracked open his water bottle. Placing the remote next to him on the cushion, he took a gulping sip at the water bottle. Twisting the cap on, he opened the bag of chips then shifted to lay on his side. Staring at the tv screen with a throw pillow stuffed beneath his head as he popped a few chips into his mouth.

The crunching was deafening in the living room, but he hardly minded it as he drew his legs up slightly. Swallowing then popping a few more chips into his mouth; lapping at the pads of his fingers for that trace of salt. He sighed out when he shifted slightly only to have his phone vibrate against his ass. He reached back to dig his phone out of his pocket with a sigh when he turned the screen on to find a text waiting for him from Nemuri. Stating she'd be bringing the boys home around five.

That gave him an extra twenty minutes to be alone before he had to put on that happy face for his sons. Deflect their questions about Shouta in that tactful way but he knew that there were only so many times he could answer them before they understood. It had him sighing out as he placed his phone on the coffee table as he stuffed a few more chips into his mouth. His left hand rubbing idly at his cramping stomach. Was he hungrier than he thought? Or were they genuine cramps?

He had not a clue, but he was absolutely devouring the chips as he stuffed his hand into the bag to pop a few more chips into his mouth. Chewing vigorously while his left hand continued to rub at his stomach. He felt heavy today. Tired. At least he could say goodbye to his teaching gig tomorrow. It might be a little callous, but he couldn't wait to go back to manning his shop the way he used to. Despite his gratefulness that he was close to finishing up his substituting job.

However, he couldn't deny that there was an anxiety attached to tomorrow. Things would change again with him leaving his job. The talk he wants to have with Shouta. There was so much that needed to be done tomorrow that he didn't know what to do with himself. He knew realistically that he should be getting some grading done but there was something nice about laying on the couch. In curling his knees to his aching stomach slightly with his hand digging in the chip bag.

The crunch as he chewed the mouthfuls of his before swallowing. There was something about it that made him feel like he just existing. No work. No stress. Just existing as he tried to contemplate what he was going to say tomorrow. Both in regard to Shouta and to his students. A goodbye speech that he planned on giving before the school day let out. From there onwards he'd have to get a tackle start on wrapping presents not only for his sons but for his nieces and nephews before Christmas.

To get the presents he bought Nemuri, Oboro and Shouta wrapped up as well. He had a lot of wrapping he had to get done. He just hoped that he could get it all done on his own. Plus, the grading he needed to get done was pressing on him. At least it was only some work sheets he'd handed out the previous day. Something he could effortlessly grade and get done in three hours tops. He sighed out when he swallowed his mouthful with a wince at how slowly it went down.

Tomorrow, for better or worse, that things were going to change. He didn't know how Shouta had been thinking on their kiss. He didn't know what could be running through that head when those dark eyes showed that longing. That sadness. It had him wanting to drop to his knees to apologize but what Shouta had done was inexcusable. He could have said something. Could have stuttered out one thing. He didn't need to run away like that from him like he was diseased or something of the sort.

He didn't need to look at him with that wide eyed horror. It's not the reaction he thought that the other man would have when they finally kissed. He couldn't stop himself from playing that night over and over. Had he read the moment wrong? He'd admitted out loud he wanted to kiss Shouta. That it was what he wanted. But the look on Shouta's face when he'd run off had broken his heart. Had him crying over the sting of rejection that ripped his heart out of his chest.

But it was more than a sting, wasn't it? It was something that ripped his chest apart when Shouta had all but run away from him. There was no rationalizing in the world to make it hurt less. To make it ache any better. Why hadn't Shouta just said no? Why hadn't he rejected him the same way he rejected him on Halloween if he was going to react like that? He didn't know how Shouta would take it, but he was going to be as blunt as he possibly can with the black-haired man.

Why did it always feel like there was something that came along to bump them? A hit in the road when he thought they were moving along smoothly? Why did it feel like he was always sitting Shouta down for a talk about something? He sighed out quietly to himself with his hand bringing up chips that he popped into his mouth. Chewing fiercely as the news flickered to the weather where a predicted twelve inches was coming.

It had him groaning around his mouthful at the thought of having to shovel a foot of snow, but it was better than two or three feet. He swallowed his mouthful only to stuff more chips into his mouth again. He took the time to lick the salt from his fingers. God, what was he doing? He felt like a lovesick teenager who was craving sweets. All because of what? A rejection? It had him shifting with his stomach growling at him as he stuffed another small handful into his mouth with his chewing filling the quiet.

No one in this situation was right. He should have waited until he was sober to kiss Shouta. Shouta should have said something before running away like he was something disgusting. He should have never kissed Shouta without telling him he was transgender. There were so many layers to the situation that he could spend hours tearing apart but all it came down too was that he needed to talk to Shouta tomorrow. There was nothing he could do but sit down and talk with the black-haired man.

Whether that was here at his home, or it was out in the cold parking lot. They needed to talk and that was that. It was exhausting feeling like they were bumbling along. Only then did their lives to come to an awkward head, and it ended in a "talk". What kind of cliché Hallmark movie was he in? What kind of horrible fanfiction was he a part of? A shitty horrible romance book? It had him swallowing his mouthful hard when he then leaned forward to grab his water.

Unscrewing the cap to gulp at the water to rival the salt of the potato chips with hard swallows as he then felt water dribble down his chin. He lowered the bottle with a sigh as he loosely screwed the cap of his bottle back on before returning it to the table before him. Stuffing his hand into the bag to shove another small handful into his mouth, he found himself shifting with his head rolling on the throw pillow. Looking up at the ceiling with his left hand rubbing idly at his stomach.

Chewing his mouthful quickly, he swallowed with a quiet gulp when he then sighed as he slid his hand from his stomach. Lifting it up to rub at his forehead. What a mess he found himself in. What an utterly horrible mess that seemed to only grow larger with each passing day that went by. He misses Shouta like nothing else. Misses him enough to consider texting him now to have him come over and get this out of the way. To get this over with today rather than tomorrow.

It had him sighing out softly to himself as he slid his hand from his forehead to shove into the chip bag. Stuffing another small mouthful into his mouth that he chewed quickly. He can't just pretend he was okay. He can't just pretend that nothing bad happened. That Shouta hadn't ripped his heart out of his chest and tap danced over it with that reaction. But he didn't want this to be some drawn out, dramatic situation that left him unsure of what to do. He wants to talk to Shouta.

He wants to air out all the "dirty laundry" and make sure that the black-haired man understood what he meant. To be heard, to be acknowledged, was all that he wanted from Shouta. To know that he had fucked up. That they had both fucked up with their reactions that night, but he couldn't deny that Shouta truly had broken his heart. He'd imagined for weeks what it'd be like to kiss him, but he didn't think that there would be drinks involved. He didn't think he'd be drunk when he kissed him.

He didn't think Shouta would run away from him because he kissed him. It was killing him trying to replay those fuzzy, slippery memories of his from that night. He just wished he could remember better if there had been a sign. A moment where he was doing the right thing. If Shouta really did want him to kiss him but it was hard to remember when all his mind could recall was the pleasure. The way it felt so good to hold onto Shouta in the bars hallway. In the back seat of the car.

How nice his hand had felt in his as he stumbled inside with Shouta rushing after him to keep him steady. The pleasure of having those arms tightened around him to hold him closer. How good it felt to have those full lips on his own. What would have happened if his phone never went off? What would have happened if nothing tore them apart? Would he have ended up in bed with the black-haired man? Would he have had his knees to his chest with Shouta pounding into him?

Would he be held so tightly that the pleasure would outweigh the pain? Would he have been able to hold the black-haired man the way he'd been fantasizing about? Would he have been able to memorize the rolls and movements of his lovers movements? Would he have woken with not a stitch on with Shouta in his bed? It was all a what-if. Something he'd spent hours speculating on in the past five days but there was no knowing that reality.

All he had was the shocked, horrified face of Shouta's before he ran away from him. If he had been horrified because they were drunk it would be one thing. To hear Shouta apologize because they were drunk would have been better than the reaction he got from the black-haired man. Anything would have been better than the reaction that he got. It tugged at his heart in a painful lurch as he shoved another fistful of potato chips into his mouth. Chewing fiercely, he let his head roll over the pillow to face the TV once more.

Licking the salt from his fingers in between his chews when he swallowed before reaching for his water. Untwisting the cap then lifting it up as he licked at his salty lips before gulping at the water. Something that helped combat the saltiness of the potato chips. Gulping down his water eagerly, he finished off the bottle much to his dismay. Sighing out, he reached down to place the bag of chips onto the coffee table as he swung his legs over the side of the couch.

Sighing out at the rush from the change in position, he reached for his phone to turn the screen on. He unlocked the screen quickly to find a picture from Nemuri. Tapping on the notification, he was greeted to the sight of his grinning sons. Green and purple eyes shone at the camera with new action figures in hand with the torn apart boxes on the ground by their feet. There was also a stuffed animal shoved beneath arms that were held tightly to sides that he couldn't quite make out.

It had him smiling softly at the pink-cheeked delight on both of his sons faces. How absolutely delighted they were to be showing off their toys. He saved the picture then sent a few heart emojis to Nemuri before closing out their chat to open the food app once more. With their orders still in the cart, he proceeded to the check out. His phone pinged cheerfully with the confirmation text of his order when he stood up to shove his phone in his pocket.

He carried his empty bottle of water with him as he shuffled across the living room. He entered the hallway with his socked feet thudding over the wooden floor as he made his way into the kitchen. Tossing his water bottle into the trash as he walked past, he made his way to the fridge. Tugging it open, he reached in for an apple juice bottle rather than more water. He twisted it out of the pack then placed the rest back on the shelf.

Nudging the fridge door shut with his foot, he spun on his feet then to make his way back across the kitchen. Down the hallway. His hair swayed against his back as he sighed out to himself with his feet carrying him quickly into the living room where he sat down on the couch once more. Reaching for his bag of chips, he let himself fall onto his side with his legs curling up off of the floor as he then stuffed a fistful of chips into his mouth. Putting his bottle on the coffee table, he grabbed the TV remote.

He turned the volume up before flipping through the channels idly. Chewing his mouthful, he settled on a channel showing reruns of Friends. He was happy to lose himself to a few hours of the sitcom as he stuffed another mouthful into his mouth with that deafening crunching. He rested his head on the throw pillow. His left hand going to his growling, cramping stomach to knead at himself idly with fingers digging in just enough to help with it. Was it about that time?

Or was his stomach just a mess knowing that tomorrow his goal was to change things between him and Shouta? To lay the truth of how hurt he was out to the black-haired man? Was it just his nerves? He swallowed hard his mouthful he had before stuffing his hand into the bag with a crinkle bringing the chips up to his mouth. He knew better than to eat this and then order an unhealthy meal, but he didn't matter, did it? There's no one around to judge him and the boys were going to have a blast eating out tonight.

He chewed his mouthful with his glasses pressing awkwardly into his temple. His phone felt like a red hot coal against his ass. He knew he had to text Shouta back. He didn't want to keep that message unread much longer. As he stared sightlessly at the TV, lifting handful after handful of chips to his mouth. He found himself sighing out through his nose as his head rolled over the pillow. His eyes fluttering shut as he chewed his mouthful when he reached up to nudge his hearing aid back into place.

The canny laughter from the TV filling the living room as he listened to the crunches of his chips until he was swallowing. His lips felt oily. Licking them, they tasted overly salty. He didn't know what to do with himself. He wasn't the type to drown himself in unhealthy food. Wasn't the type to lament and feel sorry for himself but that's just what he was doing, wasn't it? He was feeling sorry for himself over a simple heart ache. He can't even imagine how Shouta must be feeling.

Did Shouta feel guilty? Did he feel the heartache? Did he miss him? Did he feel lonely? It was only five days going on six, but they'd talked every day from the moment they began texting. They'd talked on the phone countless times. They had always had some sort of contact with one another, but it had been radio static over the past couple of days. He didn't know what to do with himself. He was being a couch potato stuffing chips into his mouth to feed his growling, aching stomach.

He was doing nothing but moping about feeling guilty for giving Shouta the silent treatment. How can he go from hoping Shouta felt bad then the next day missing him so much he felt half out of his head? To miss him so much that he would do anything just to hear that deep voice saying his name. To hear Shouta cackling with him while Eri squirmed about in his lap. Chattering at him in her cautious language that she had picked up from listening to her father.

There was nothing he wanted than to say that he would let bygones be bygones. But he couldn't. Not when his heartache was real. His emotions were real. The past five days had proven just how hurt he felt over Shouta's reaction and that was real. There was no denying it. He was hurt. And he had a right to be hurt by what happened with Shouta. He knew he did. But he wished it would all be over with so he could just have fun with him again. So, he could hug him without feeling that guilt.

He wants nothing more than to throw his arms around Shouta and hug him close. To inhale that musky vanilla cologne of his that he'd first caught a whiff of back in October. He wants to feel the shape of his broad shoulders beneath his arms. He wants to feel the warmth of Shouta in his arms. To slide his hand over black curls. To touch his cheeks. To cup that red face delightedly until he was stroking his cheeks idly with his thumbs.

He wants to trace the shape of his nose, his eyebrows, his lips, and jaw with his fingertips. He wants to be swung up in Shouta's arms while he laughs. He wants to hear Shouta say his name just once. Just one time was all he needed to keep him going on again. He wants to know that things could be better between them. That they could be okay again. He took a trembling breath when he turned over in his spot to reach for his juice.

Twisting his cap off with a crack, he lifted the bottle up to his lips to gulp at his apple juice. Here he was, fantasizing over the black-haired man again. Mooning over him like this was some kind of break up purgatory. He hated it. He hated feeling like this. Was there anything he could do about it? Yes. He talked to Shouta tomorrow and revealed everything. Even if he kept his crush to his chest, kept that a secret, he was going to tell Shouta everything else.

He was going to info dump on the man until he was sure that he understood. He was going to talk about how hurt he was after his reaction. He was going to make it known that he was upset with the black-haired man. He was going to make it known that he hurt his heart by reacting that way. Their first kiss, tainted by heartache. It was by far the one thing he didn't want to imagine it being. He didn't want their first kiss to be surrounded by this angst.

This unneeded, unwanted angst that was fueled by his aching heart. All over a rejection. All over a drunken kiss. Despite the heartache that followed, he'd dare say that he absolutely loved the feeling of Shouta's lips on his. The touch of their plush fullness against his was something he found himself replaying again and again. It had him flushed quite a few times following his moments alone, but he could still recall how that arm tightened around him.

How Shouta's head had tipped up with lips parting ever so slightly. How those plush lips felt against his were something he could never have fantasized beforehand. It was something he found himself replaying when he was lying in bed. Thinking of how Shouta had held him. How the hand in his had squeezed at him. How those lips had slid against his was something he couldn't get over. There was something so nice in kissing Shouta after having spent two months fantasizing what it would be like.

Even if it wasn't the perfect first kiss that it should have been on Halloween it was still a first kiss. Something that he found himself replaying countless times to recall. He wants nothing more than to throw his arms around Shouta and recreate their first kiss. He wants nothing more than to kiss him with all the passion in the world that he deserved. He wants to kiss him again and again. But he can't. Not yet. He needs to focus on talking to Shouta first.

He needs to focus on getting his side of things laid out on the table for Shouta to understand him clearly. He didn't want to go into anything with false pretenses. Sighing out quiet to himself, he reached his hand up to touch his lips with a rub that had him humming lowly in his throat. Rubbing at his lips, pinching them lightly, to rid them of the tingling that came to them albeit weakly. A tingle that had him aching to press them against Shouta's. Just once more.

One kiss to rival their heartache fueled first one. But he couldn't. Can't. Won't. Not until he decides when to confess this silly little crush on Shouta. Until he confesses for real how he feels about the black-haired man. Covering his mouth with his palm, he let his eyes shut with another sigh leaving him through his nose. His hair rustling over the throw pillow with his lashes managing to tickle his skin lightly. It had him squirming slightly on the couch when his eyes opened in surprise when the chip bag fell.

A rustle of the chips hitting off of one another. He wished he could get up the nerves to just text Shouta who hadn't texted him since Friday. He wants nothing more than to read the text that he sent but there had been one other one he'd sent on Saturday that he'd yet to look at. It had been radio silent on his side of things and he can't imagine whatever heartache Shouta was going through. He can't fathom how it had to feel to be ignored by someone but here he was doing just that.

But he was within his rights to do so. After all, he was spurned. He was heartbroken. He just didn't intend for their friendship to fall through the cracks like this. He wasn't going to let this be something that ruined their friendship. Shouta was his best friend. He had a crush on his best friend. it was just a matter of fact. Even if he didn't say it out loud to Shouta, he was sure that once he was ready to confess that he'd do it proudly. Loudly. The way his mothers always told him to.

To be clear and precise when it came to his confessing. To make sure that there was no mistake in what he wanted. What he needed from his crush. And he planned on making sure that he was sure of his feelings. When he was sure it was the right time. But for now he merely had to focus on his big talk with Shouta tomorrow. Focus on getting presents wrapped before the weekend with Christmas only a few short days away from them.

He was sure if he got his grading done tonight then tomorrow, while the boys were playing at his mothers, he'd have time for wrapping. He was more than sure he'd have all the time in the world to get it done. He could wrap while Hitoshi and Izuku were in bed too. He had plenty of time to make sure presents were wrapped. Groaning to himself, his stomach gave another sharp twist that had him wincing with his hands reaching down to rub at his stomach firmly with kneading pushes.

He'd put a heating pad on it soon. He hated the idea of menstruating during the holidays but he might not have a choice in that matter. It was unfortunate but he knew there was no stopping a menstrual cycle if it was going to happen during Christmas. All he could do was make himself comfortable as possible without anyone catching on. He sighed out at the thought with his head pressing back into the pillow when he slid his hands over his stomach up to his chest.

Rubbing over it comfortingly with his heart skipping against his chest. It had him shuddering with his back arching slightly as he adjusted his position with his knees bending up with his feet pressing to the cushion. He stared up at the ceiling while the canned laughter of the show rang out once again. He had a damned busy week ahead of him filled with wrapping presents, grabbing a tree tomorrow with the boys, and decorating it.

Getting the house set up for Christmas and begin meal prepping in advance for the meal he wanted to make for Christmas for him and his family. His friends. He hoped that his talk with Shouta would go well. That the black-haired man would still come. There was no better way to spend the holiday, in his opinion. And if Shouta wasn't spending it with his sister then why not spend it together? Why not invite his best friend over to spend the holiday with their two other best friends?

There was no reason not to let Shouta come over for a day of wine and food. To let Eri play with babies near her age and, of course, he knew that Izuku and Hitoshi would get a kick out of seeing Shouta. They'd been asking for him since Monday but he'd refused to talk about the matter with them. He felt guilty about it but he knew that eventually they'd catch on. There's no way that they wouldn't. But he hoped that by the time they did that things would be resolved between them.

That they wouldn't miss Shouta too much and that, by the time he talked to him tomorrow, Hitoshi and Izuku would be able to see him again. They weren't overly attached to Shouta but they definitely looked up to him. Hitoshi especially. It had him sighing out quietly to himself as he rubbed at his chest before reaching down to grab the bag of chips. Rolling onto his side, he pressed the bag against his aching stomach when he stuffed another mouthful of chips into his mouth.

The crunching of his chewing loud when that canned laughter rang out on the TV once more prompting him to lift his hand up to grab the remote. Flicking through the channels from the sitcom, he landed on a quiet movie to play in the background. Something that didn't require him to pay attention to it. Swallowing his mouthful, he stuffed another small handful into his mouth when his phone vibrated on the table. It had him licking the greasy salt from his finger tips then rubbing off on his pants.

He reached for his phone to find yet another picture from Nemuri with Hitoshi and Izuku. Her, Oboro, Hitoshi and Izuku piled into the car with the boys holding on to their new action figures and plushies. It had him smiling softly as he sent another emoji to reply to Nemuri when he got a text from Shouta. It had his heart jumping from his chest to his throat only for it to break slightly. Three little words. Three small, insignificant words on his screen broke his heart when he turned his screen off to take a deep breath.

Placing his phone back on the table with a light clattering thud, he sat up as he folded the bag of chips closed. Reaching out for his apple juice, he unscrewed the cap and gulped the liquid down. Chugging it then licking his lips with a sigh once he'd drained the bottle. He twisted the cap back on when he stood up and made his way between the coffee table and couch. Brisk strides across the living room into the hallway, his feet thudded over the floor deafeningly.

He made his way into the kitchen where he threw his empty bottle away in the trash. Making his way across the room to put the chips back where they belonged on the counter. He then opened the cabinet to get himself a cup of water this time. Grabbing a plastic cup, he shut the cabinet door. Making his way over toe the freezer, the ice clattering into his cup was deafening. Louder than anything as it filled before he switched it over to water.

Filling his cup with water, he sighed out to himself as he raised his free hand up to scrub at his eye. He rubbed at it fiercely then tugged his cup away from the freezer to lift it up. Sipping at the frigid water when he turned on his feet to make his way across the kitchen. Down the hall back into the living room where he placed his cup on the table with a thud. He sat on the couch with a sigh as he lifted his hands up to rub at his face.

Fingers slipping beneath his glasses to scrub at his eyes fiercely as he groaned into his palms. God, what was he doing? He didn't know what the hell he was going to do tomorrow but he sure as hell knew what he was going to say. What he was going to do in regards to his friend. He was going to be go into detail on everything. There was no way that he wasn't going to. Shouta needed to realize the depth of how hurt he was. He needed the other man to understand that first and foremost.

Shouta deserves to make a decision once he knew he was transgender. He needs nothing more than to air it all out. It wasn't right of him to keep this in the dark or to keep Shouta in the dark. Sighing out, he leaned back against the couch with his hand rubbing over his forehead as his fingers dug into it. Sliding down to slip beneath his glasses to rub at an eye with another slow sigh leaving him. He swore he'd never been more stressed over one damn conversation than he was right now.

It was driving him up the wall. It was driving him insane. How can he be so worked up over the thought of one conversation? It had him sighing out with his hands rubbing at his face before dragging his fingers down his cheeks with a slow inhale before letting it out through his nose. He had other things to worry about but it wasn't the only thing. God knows he needed to get it over with. Shouta needed to know how spurned he felt. How it had hurt him. He needed to know where he was at. What page he was on.

How that pain went deep once his drunken mind had focused on the fact of what he'd done. He didn't care what Shouta's reasons for running away were. He truly didn't. Shouta had hurt him and they needed to talk this out loud. They needed to talk to one another and work out why Shouta had run away. He needs to know why the black-haired man had reacted the way that he had. Even if it didn't change what had happened the least he could do was have insight.

To have even the smallest inkling why he looked at him like that. He was sure that the past five days were something that the both of them needed. Both needed the time to get their heads on right. Both needed time away from seeing one another. But God, it felt like he was seeing a kicked puppy each time he walked past Shouta. Each time he watched those full lips part before pressing together. How his head ducked down lower with black locks covering his face. How he looked so ashamed.

Like he knew the weight of what he had done. There was nothing he wanted more than to throw his arms around him and wail. To promise that they could work through it together. That they could fix this the best that they could. And he was determined that they could rectify what had been hurt but that didn't mean it was going to be easy. It didn't mean that it was going to be automatic. If he got out everything he'd been planning to tell the black-haired man he knew they could work through it.

He was sure they'd at least be on the road when it came to healing with one another. There was nothing he wants more than to touch that face. Than to rub his hands through black curls. To hug Shouta tightly to his chest. To promise that nothing had to change but he knew things had. They'd changed the moment he had said out loud that he wanted to kiss Shouta. Things had changed the second he'd pressed his lips to those full ones. There was no denying it, now was there?

He may have been drunker than he thought but there was no denying that it'd happened. There was nothing they could do other than figure out a way forward together. Figure out how they were going to navigate this new normal of theirs. He couldn't go on much longer ignoring Shouta. And he knew that, eventually, Shouta would gain the confidence to try and talk to him. All that mattered was trying to figure out how the hell they were going to navigate it together.

He wouldn't be seeing him every day, day in and day out, which might just help with things. Going back to his store where he belonged might be the thing that helped this awful crush he had on the black-haired man. It might just be the thing that helps him clear his head. Now that he wouldn't be in close working proximity to Shouta it might just help with things. Of course, there was no telling that now. There was no understanding if it was the right move when they hadn't begun to address that change.

Not to mention he was going to be closing his store for Christmas this upcoming weekend which meant that they would have to grow accustomed to their new normal. All that matters was putting some more space between and the end of his teaching job would bring him just that. The chance to distance himself physically from the black-haired man. They could state their apologies and talk until they were blue in the face but he knew that him returning to work at the store would be for all the better.

All he wants is to make sure that they could remain friends. He knows it would be better if he could just confess his crush to the black-haired man now but he wasn't ready. Not yet. He couldn't bring himself to say the words when he was looking at the black-haired man. They clogged his throat the second he even thought of saying it. He couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't understand it. He couldn't understand how he, a prideful and loud man, couldn't choke out three simple words.

Three little words hat would either for better or for worse bring a new change to their friendship. But he'd already tried asking if Shouta had a crush on him and the black-haired man had said he didn't know. So what did that say? What kind of reaction would he get from Shouta if he suddenly said he had a crush on him? What would that do to their friendship? He knew that kissing his best friend on a drunken night out was already overstepping a boundary. So what was stopping him from saying he had a crush?

What was stopping him from saying that he wants nothing more than to say? It was once again one of those situations where he was unfortunately standing in his own way. A situation where he was finding himself unable to say a damned thing and what for? Because he was scared of how Shouta would react? The man had gone to kiss him on Halloween but he'd been the one to cut it off. To keep it from happening. He wished that he had just kissed Shouta on Halloween night.

Back when things were simpler for the both of them. Before they had begun calling one another best friends. He wished he had just gone with the flow that night. Even if he had been scared, worried, anxious over the thought of it he just wished he'd done it. That he had kissed Shouta back then rather than waiting for the one night where he was drunker than anything to kiss the black-haired man. What had he been thinking? Nothing. That was his problem. He hadn't been thinking at all.

Nothing other than how good it had been to be held in Shouta's arms. How good his hand felt in his. How close he was and how he smelled so good. God, he could still recall the taste of that damned vodka Shouta had been drinking. He swore he could still taste it on his lips when he licked them. There was no denying he felt some regret for doing what he had during that night but did he regret kissing him? The answer seemed to change every damn day.

It seemed to fluctuate and sway from one side to the other like a damned pendulum. He didn't know if he regretted it. He didn't know if he regretted doing it then and not on Halloween night. He didn't know what to do with himself. At the end of the day, there was some part of him that regretted it. There was another part of him that recalled their kiss in what felt like an absolute daze. That recalled the pleasure of that night. How good it'd felt crowding up Shouta in the bar hallway.

The way he'd been allowed to cuddle into his side. To hold onto his hand. There was so much simplistic pleasure from that night that he simply didn't know what to do with himself. He was left at odds about it but he knew that if he could go back and fix it, he'd do it. He'd tell himself not to kiss him no matter how badly he'd wanted too after Shouta had let him touch his lips. Let him trace their shape; something his fingers could trace out blindly right now.

It was hard to forget how full Shouta's lips were. How nice it had been to have those lips pressing softly to his own. The cautiousness in the way that their lips moved together; as if trying to figure it out. How to kiss the other in the perfect way to make it a kiss worth remembering. And then that damned phone had ruined everything for the both of them. It had him sighing out into his palms at the memory when he slid his hands down to slap onto his thighs. What did he do with this?

He didn't know what to do with himself on a good day but what did he do when he finally said all of this out loud? Once he spoke them he knew there'd be no taking them back. He leaned back sighing out with his hands sliding up to weave into his hair with nails scratching at his scalp when he heard a thud. It had him blinking in surprise when he shifted to stand up curiously. Were they here already? He thought he'd have more time to himself before the four of them coming home.

It had him shuffling between the space of the couch and the coffee table before making his way forward only to have the front door flying open with Hitoshi running over the threshold. Snow clinging to his boots, his coat and hat with snowflakes melting on red cheeks. There was a delight as he held a stuffed animal up underneath his arm with wild indigo locks curling slightly at the ends with Izuku rushing in after him with thudding steps of his own.

Hitoshi's head snapped side to side before locking onto him to which he ran into the living room with a sparkle to those wide purple eyes of his. A hopeful smile on his lips that had him smiling back when Hitoshi threw up his stuffed animal; another cat plushie only this one was decorated to look like a calico. Izuku was tight on his heels when smiled at the boy as he held his arms out with a quiet chuckle. "Welcome home! What is it that you've got there, Toshi?"

"Look at it, Dad! Look at what Auntie Nem got for me! She said it was an early Christmas present from them!" Hitoshi chirruped with that beautiful delight on his face which had him beaming down at his son. And then Hitoshi was stuffing his toy under his arm to hold up his new action figure with that sparkle to his purple eyes as Izuku rushed over the threshold. "And look at this, Dad! Uncle Oboro got me this new action figure for an early present too!"

"Dad, Dad, look at my octopus! Auntie Nem and Uncle Oboro got it! And I got a new action figure too!" Izuku shouted as he held up his octopus towards him with a sparkle to those wide green eyes. A look of utter delight on their little faces had his heart fluttering with delight of his own as he squatted down with stuffed animals shoved into his hands for him to look at. Izuku bounced on his toes with Nemuri and Oboro shutting the front door. "Isn't it awesome, Dad?"

"It's very awesome that Auntie Nem and Uncle Oboro were willing to buy you guys something!" He turned the cat plushie and the octopus over in his hands before beaming at his sons as he held them out with arms wrapping around the animals. Holding them to chests tightly when he then poked Izuku's pink cheek and gently pinched Hitoshi's nose with the other to get both boys giggling. "How about the two of you get your coats off and then get those stuffed animals upstairs safely on your beds?"

"Okay!" Both boys chirruped in unison before turning on their heels to rush out of the living room past Nemuri and Oboro who slid hands over wild green curls and indigo locks. He stood up out of his squat to sit on the couch with Nemuri fluttering over to him while Oboro went out into the hall to help get the boys out of their coats. Nemuri sat down with her leg cross beneath her with her knee lightly touching his thigh when she braced her arm on the back of the couch.

Her hand supporting her head as dark purple locks spilled over it as a soft smile curled over pink lips. "So, tell me, are you going to talk to Shouta tomorrow still? I know you've been telling me that you've been practicing but sometimes it's easy to get cold feet. To back out of it. Are you still determined to get this over with?"

"I am, Nem. God, I am so ready to just talk to him already and get it over with so we can go back to being friends, you know? Even if I don't confess, I want to at least air everything out with him. I want to be able to look at him without feeling like I'm staring at a kicked puppy!" He sighed out with his head falling to the back of the couch when he turned his head to stare at the woman next to him who patted his thigh comfortingly. "How did you not go through this drama with Oboro?"

"Because, despite being teenagers, we weren't making choices that complicated things. We merely confessed to one another and that was that." The hand patting at his thigh then squeezed when Nemuri sighed out with dark lashes fluttering slightly in a blink with her glasses slipping down her nose slightly. "Zashi, my love, you need to hold firm tomorrow. You need to be firm, direct, and completely clear that you're damn near transparent with this man. That's what you have to be, got it?"

"Oh, I got it! I planned on being so damn clear I'd be crystal. There's gonna be no way that he mistakes what I'm saying when I sit down and talk with him tomorrow!" He reached up then to tug at a dark purple strand of hair while that hand rested on his thigh. There was a thud of feet up the stairs where Izuku and Hitoshi no doubt ran up them to which he lifted his head. "Don't run up the stairs! I don't want you too falling up or down them!"

He got an ambiguous shout of acknowledgement from both boys who flew up the stairs when Oboro reappeared in the doorway to which he walked into the living room with boots missing surprisingly. Were they staying for dinner? It wouldn't be the first time. Oboro made his way around the coffee table then sat down on his right side. "So, what do you think tomorrows talk is gonna bring you, Zashi? What do you think it's going to change?"

"I'm hoping it changes some things. I mean, I'm not confessing but still! I want him to understand my point of view and I want him to understand how he hurt me by doing what he did, you know?" He sighed as he let his head fall back again with his gaze on the ceiling when Nemuri squeezed at his thigh and Oboro hummed as his legs crossed with his knee touching his. Squished between his two favorite people in the damned world. "Do you think he'll be mad? Or understanding?"

"I think Shouta is a pretty open person, Zashi, and I think if you sit down with no colorful words, no playful work arounds, and remain straight with him then he'll understand it." Oboro shifted beside him when the blue-haired man then reached down to pat at the back of his hand while he spoke. Using that same comfort that Nemuri gave by resting her hand on his thigh. "I think that Shouta needs to know that he hurt you. I think he needs to know that you've been broken up about this for days."

"But don't guilt him too much! You need to hold him responsible, yes, but you also shouldn't make him feel too guilty!" Nemuri then squeezed at his thigh when he rolled his head to stare at the woman beside him. Twirling a lock of her hair idly around his fingers when a hand swatted at his fingers to which he frowned but Nemuri tilted her head. "It's important for him to know his place in how things fucked up. It's important to implement some guilt for him to feel but don't go completely guilting him."

"It's like fights I have with Nem from time to time!" He rolled his head to stare at the blue-haired man beside him with a raised brow when Oboro grinned sheepishly at him with the man shifting in his spot beside him. "When Nem and I fight, she always hangs my ass! She always points out what we both did wrong, and we work together to get from there! So don't lay a guilt trip on Shouta but leave it open for the two of you to work together going forward to know what the other wants and needs."

"Friends can be open with one another like that, you know!" Fingers poked at his cheek causing him to whine when he turned his head to meet Nemuri's gaze. There was a playful sparkle to those sky-blue eyes when her fingers dug in fiercely until he reached up to swat at her hand to which she pulled her hand away. "Sometimes friendships need some transparency. Sometimes they need to be put into boundaries. If you're not ready to confess, then the least you can have is a healthy friendship!"

There was another poke into his cheek causing him to whine when he turned his head to meet Oboro's gaze when the blue-haired man smiled softly with his hand dropping away. "She's right, you know. It's not going to hurt you or him if you've got a transparent friendship going forward. It's not going to hurt anyone if you decided that you wanted to make sure that your boundaries are heard. That new boundaries are established between the two of you. It's not going to kill anyone."

"I know it's not! I just don't want him to feel like I'm pushing him into a corner by laying all this out, you know? I don't want him to think that I'm placing all the blame on him which I'm not! It's totally my fault too for kissing him without him giving a verbal answer or not!" He sighed out then with his fingers twisting into the fabric of his sweat pants when he frowned slightly to himself. "I just don't want him to think that I hate him which I don't. But I don't want to guilt trip him, like you said. I know what I want to say."

There was a thud from up above that had him glancing up with a prick of worry in his chest, but he caught nothing but laughter as feet ran down the hallway upstairs. Nemuri squeezed his shoulder firmly when she smiled softly at him the same way that Oboro had seconds ago. "Then go with what you want to say. Speak what you want to say and let that be that. Just don't guilt trip him, okay? That's all you need to focus on but don't completely lighten what he did either."

"You'll find a good middle ground, Zashi." He got a pat on his other shoulder when he groaned out only to have feet thudding down the stairs towards them. Hard thuds on the stairs that had him glancing at the doorway where the two boys barreled in together. Izuku had his sling on crookedly with his arm cradled to his chest when Oboro clicked his tongue. "Look at the two of you! Izu, c'mere, let me fix your sling for you."

"Dad, do you think that tomorrow we can decorate the tree tomorrow? I want it to be all ready for Santa! Are we gonna make cookies for him this year too?" Hitoshi questioned with his hands pressing to the coffee table causing it to groan quietly beneath his weight while Oboro fussed with Izuku's sling. The green-haired boy must be tired of holding his arm up consistently. He didn't blame him; casts are heavy.

"Yes, I'll make sure to grab carrots for the reindeer too! We'll make cookies on Christmas Eve, alright? That way they're fresh. And then, when you wake up in the morning, Grandma, Grams, Uncle Haru, Auntie Hana and Auntie Aimi along with all your cousins will be here! So will Auntie Nem and Uncle Oboro!" He loved the sparkle that shone in those green eyes. In Hitoshi's brilliant purple ones with that brilliant smile curling over his face when Nemuri stood up then with hands clapping together sharply.

"Alright! Since Uncle Oboro and I are staying for dinner, how about you boys play with your uncle while I get dinner on? I know that your dad here has some grading that he has to get done so let's all get started on our individual tasks!" Nemuri beamed when he then remembered the order. He winced slightly before standing up when he reached out to touch Nemuri's elbow who looked up at him with that smile on her lips.

"Actually, Nem, I didn't plan on cooking dinner tonight and ordered Chinese for me and the boys for dinner tonight." There were gasps of delight from Hitoshi and Izuku who bounced on their toes when he then reached down for his phone to grab it before wobbling it lightly in his grasp. "However, if you tell me what you want, I can put in a separate order for you and Oboro so you can eat too! I thought an easy night would be easier because I am cramping like no one's business, babes."

The dark-haired woman winced then with that sympathetic look pinching at her face when he fidgeted slightly on his feet. They both knew, from past experience, how much he hated the thought of going on during his period. Hell, he hated that as a twenty-six-year-old he still got periods but that would be solved soon enough in a few short years. Until then he just had to brace and prepare for it. "That's fine! I'll put in an order on my phone, but you should go get your grading done then come join the three stooges here."

It had Hitoshi laughing when Nemuri ruffled indigo locks playfully while Izuku merely grinned as he leaned into Oboro's lap with legs spreading apart to accommodate the child who clung to his knee with his good arm. There was a sparkle to those wide eyes of theirs when he then sighed out when he threw his hands up playfully which had his sons giggling. "Fine, fine! I'm nothing if not obedient! I'll go get my grading done and then I'll be back to play with you guys! Sound fair?"

"Totally fair!" Izuku chirruped up at him with that wide smile on his lips while Hitoshi leaned on the coffee table to which he bent down to scoop his phone up that he then stuffed into his pocket. He picked his glass of water up which allowed Hitoshi to climb onto the table. The wet ring left behind shimmered up at him when he gulped at his water with one, two, three long pulls before he felt an arm wrap around his thigh to which he looked down at Izuku. "I love you, Dad."

Lowering his glass, he reached down with his free hand to ruffle those green curls of his. A giggle left his son as he scratched playfully at his head before tugging his hand from the curls to then rustle wild indigo locks which had Hitoshi giggling up at him. "I love you too, Izu! And I love you too, Toshi! I love you both very, very much and I appreciate you being so patient with me! Now, let me go so I can get that grading done and we'll all sit down for dinner together, yeah?"

'Yeah!" Both boys chirruped together once more with Hitoshi bouncing on his knees giddily while Izuku released the hold on his thigh allowing Nemuri to move with him allowing him to step away from the couch. He loved those bright, beaming faces of his children smiling up at him. They truly were understanding, weren't they? He knew they were excited for his school work to be over. Sliding his hand over green curls and wild indigo locks, he then made his way across the living room.

Making his way into the living room with his feet thudding over the floor, the cheerful chatter of his sons filled the house effortlessly. A comforting sound as they began to chatter excitedly at their aunt and uncle. It had him smiling softly to himself as he made his way down the hallway. Swiping at the bottom of his cup to keep any water from dripping off of it. He made his way forward into the kitchen where he hummed when his phone vibrated against his ass.

He made his way through the kitchen when he reached into his back pocket to find a notification alert about the order. A notification that it was being made. It had him humming softly when he stuffed his phone into his pocket again as he brushed past the freezer to get to the small hallway leading to his bedroom. His socked feet were deafening over the carpeted floor when he lifted his cup up to gulp at it once more. Then he lowered it with his hand raising up to rub at his lips.

Making his way forward, he stepped over the threshold of his bedroom once more where he turned to shut the doors one at a time with a gentle thud of wood striking together. He then turned to his bed where his laptop bag sat after he'd come home. He made his way towards his bed where he took another sip at his water before putting it down on the bedside table. He then climbed onto his bed with a sigh as he leaned forward to grab his bag. He could get this done quickly. He knew he could.

Tugging it over the blanket towards him with a low hum under his breath as he settled himself against the headboard. He was glad he only had some in class worksheets to get done rather than a stack of essays or a pile of homework. It was amazing how little work he had to hand out when they got closer to the holiday. There was nothing he adored more than having a light work load. He would have to sincerely thank Nemuri and Oboro for taking the boys off of his hands this afternoon.

It had given him a few hours to reflect. To lay on his bed and get a few moments to himself to ground his mind. He felt nervous when he thought of tomorrow but wasn't that natural? Wasn't that normal? Anyone who knew they'd be having a long and serious talk would also be nervous. He just had to follow the advice that Nemuri and Oboro had just given him. He was more than willing to give them something in return for being so supportive.

They'd gone so far as to tell him how Shouta was doing behind closed doors. And it killed him to know that Shouta seemed torn up about the kiss like he was. It hadn't been said in so many words, but he knew the black-haired man enough to know he'd never spill his guts to anyone. Not even Oboro who was his closest friend. He knew that this talk was something that needed to take place. If he wanted to continue being friends with Shouta then surely it was needed, wasn't it?

He needed to be upfront. He can't hold this down for two months the way that he had with their almost kiss on Halloween. He wants nothing more than to talk. It was a simple want; to just talk to Shouta. To air it all out. And if that meant that he had to take six days to himself then so be it. He'd take as long as he needed to know what he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it. That's all he wanted; for his friend - his best friend - to understand how he had been hurt.

How he felt strangely like he'd been slighted. As if there was something wrong with him when he'd run away like that. He wanted nothing more than to explain in depth how the black-haired man had made him feel in the past couple of days. How guilty he felt seeing those texts coming in on his phone that left him feeling so nauseous he wondered how he'd even eat. How he could choke down his food. If it weren't for Hitoshi and Izuku watching him like a hawk during meals, then he was sure he'd pick at his food.

Throw it away. But when he had two young, impressionable six-year-old sons watching him he knew it wasn't the smart thing to do that. After all, how could he explain to two children under the age of ten why he wasn't eating? Why he didn't feel like eating. He wasn't going to dump problems onto his children as well. And so, he'd forced himself to eat for their sake. He just hopes that when he finally talks to Shouta tomorrow that this awful sensation will go away.

That once they finally talked this out that there would be a new light to the situation that neither had seen before. An angle that hadn't been thought of before. He just hopes that when he spoke to Shouta that he sounded as level-headed, firm, and unmoving as he wanted to be. Like Nemuri and Oboro had said, he planned on being clear with Shouta. He planned on being so damned clear he was transparent, and he was going to make sure that there were no misconceptions between them.

That there was no miscommunication or misunderstandings that could form. He planned on making sure that he was ready to say what he had to say, and he was going to make sure it was clear. Concise. That was the least he could do for Shouta, wasn't it? For himself? If he just went in guns blazing it would leave Shouta on high alert, but he wanted to talk to him. If that just so happened to be over coffee in his dining room or in the school, then so be it.

He was willing to have the talk if it meant that he could go back to having Shouta in his life. If it meant that together they could move past this awkward, awful hitch that they found themselves in. A limbo that he'd put them in both in through the past five days. He didn't know how Shouta felt but he could only imagine what his silent treatment put him through. He can only imagine how the black-haired man had to feel. If it was half of what he felt, then he felt awful for his silent treatment.

But wasn't it better to take time to get his heart put back together? To get his head back on his shoulders? To practice what it was that he wanted to say to the black-haired man? To know the exact words to say to him before he sat himself down across from him. He knew it would be better to have Nemuri or Oboro there. To have some sort of mediator between them but the things he needed to say were private. There were things between them that needed to stay between them.

He didn't see himself or Shouta becoming volatile or anything of the sort. He didn't see them screaming at one another. At least not now that he had allowed himself the time to cool off. Oh, the day after their kiss he'd wanted to scream at Shouta. He'd wanted to scream at the top of his lungs and demand why he had run away from him. He'd wanted nothing more than to scream, rant, cry and plead to know what he'd done that was so wrong that he'd run away from him.

But the additional four days he gave himself allowed him to piece himself back together. To get his head on straight on his shoulders before he talked to him. He had a much clearer head than he did to begin with, and he was more than ready to talk to Shouta. To get this over with before he could think on this too much. Before he could let himself get cold feet like Nemuri had asked him if he had. He didn't want to get cold feet over something that needed to happen.

He already felt nervous, anxious, at the thought of doing this but he had too. They needed to talk and there was no changing that. He let out a low sigh to himself when he raised his hands up to rub his face again. His fingers slipping beneath his glasses to grind fiercely into his eyes before sighing out softly to himself when he slid his hands down to slap against his thighs. He needed to stop thinking about this! He needs to get to work! Stop thinking and focus is all he had to do!

He nodded resolutely to himself when his phone vibrated in his pocket to which he reached beneath him to dig it out of his pocket where he found a text from Shouta. And he couldn't deny that his heart jumped to his throat quickly. His stomach dropping into an icy pit when he took a breath then unlocked his screen. He had to say it now. Give Shouta time to prepare himself for tomorrow. He read over the one-sided texts with a pang in his chest.

Looking over how Shouta had tried not once but four separate times to reach out to him. Small, short messages that all had accumulated without being seen. Without being acknowledged. Licking his lips, he swallowed then tapped on the bar allowing the keyboard to pop up and his thumbs danced over the screen. Uncertain but he took a slow, deep breath that had his chest expanding and he then let it out slowly. Four simple words. That's all he needed to say. Four, short, simple words.

Hizashi: We need to talk.