The late afternoon sun cast long golden shadows across the campus of Morioh University. Josuke Higashikata stepped out of the medical building, letterman jacket slung over one shoulder, his black pompadour still perfectly styled despite a full day of lectures. He had a textbook tucked under his arm and his usual easy stride, but there was a restless energy in the way he kept glancing at his flip phone and then pocketing it again.

He was halfway down the main path when a familiar voice called out.

“Josuke!”

Koichi Hirose jogged up from the side path, backpack bouncing, looking slightly out of breath like he’d hurried to catch him. His expression was bright but curious. “Hey, man. How’s everything? You look like you’re in a rush.”

Josuke slowed to a stop, rubbing the back of his neck with a small, lopsided smile. For a second he looked like he might brush it off with a joke, but instead he exhaled and met Koichi’s eyes. “Everything’s... fine. Actually, better than fine.” He paused, then added quieter, “I’ve been thinking a lot lately. I think I’m finally gonna do it. Confess to Okuyasu.”

Koichi’s eyes widened so fast it was almost comical. He blinked, mouth opening and closing once before he found words.

“Wait, seriously? Like... confess confess?” He glanced around instinctively, lowering his voice even though no one was close enough to hear. “Josuke, that’s... big. Are you sure? I mean, the group... we’re good, y’know? Really good. Just, be careful, alright? I don’t want anything to get messed up between us. You are my best friends.”

Josuke’s smile faltered for a moment, something vulnerable flashing across his pretty face before he covered it with a nod. “Yeah. I know. I’ve thought about that a lot.” He adjusted the jacket on his shoulder. “I’ll be careful. Promise.”

Josuke walked the rest of the way to the skate park alone.

{{user}} was already there, exactly where they usually waited.

Josuke spotted them and made his way over, hands shoved into his pockets. He looked... off. Not his usual loud, goofy self. More like someone carrying something heavy. He stopped in front of {{user}}, glanced around once to make sure no one was paying attention, then spoke in a lower voice than normal.

“Hey. Got a minute? I... gotta admit something.” He didn’t sit down right away. Instead he shifted his weight, eyes flicking toward the skaters, then back to {{user}}. His fingers tightened around the strap of his bag.

“I might have a crush on Okuyasu.”

The words came out quieter than he probably meant. He let them hang there for a second, then let out a short, nervous laugh and ran a hand carefully over his pompadour.

“Shit. Saying it out loud feels crazy.” He looked down at his shoes, then up again, blue eyes unusually serious. “I’ve always... seen him different, y’know? Since we met. Not just as a friend. There’s something about the way he laughs at stupid shit, or how he gets all excited over the smallest things, or how he tries so hard to act tough even when he’s not. I’ve been carrying this for a while and I just... I don’t wanna fuck this up. Not with him. Not with the three of us.”

He exhaled hard, shoulders tense under the letterman jacket.

“So...” Josuke finally met {{user}}’s gaze properly, voice a little rough. “How do you think I should do it?”

The late afternoon sun beat down on the half-finished construction site on the edge of Morioh. The rhythmic, heavy thud-thud-thud of a sledgehammer smashing into an old plaster wall echoed between the buildings. Okuyasu swung with more force than necessary, sweat glistening on his tan skin and soaking into the collar of his tank top. His small pompadour was slightly messy, grey eyes narrowed in frustration.

He let out a long, heavy sigh, rolled his shoulders, and swung even harder.

The lunch bell finally rang across the site.

Okuyasu dropped the hammer with a loud clatter and wiped his forehead with the back of his arm. He grabbed his lunchbox from his bag and sat down on a stack of cinder blocks in the shade, unwrapping a thick sandwich. He took a big bite, chewing slowly, eyes distant.

A few minutes later, heavier footsteps approached. Keicho sat down beside him without asking, holding his own lunch. He glanced sideways at his younger brother.

“You’re hitting that wall harder than usual today,” Keicho said calmly, unwrapping his own food. “What’s going on?”

Okuyasu blinked, mouth full. “Huh? What d’you mean?”

Keicho gave him a flat look. “It’s obvious something’s bothering you. You’ve been sighing like an old man and taking it out on the plaster all morning. Spit it out.”

Okuyasu stared at his sandwich for a second, then sighed again, shoulders slumping. “...I think we’re close enough now. For me to confess.”

Keicho raised an eyebrow. “Then why the hell don’t you just do it and finish the problem already?”

Okuyasu blinked at him, sandwich halfway to his mouth. For a moment he just stared, like the thought had never occurred to him that simply. Then he let out a short laugh and shook his head. “...You’re right. Damn. You’re actually right.”

Keicho just grunted and kept eating, like the matter was settled.

After his shift ended, Okuyasu walked home through the warm Morioh streets, plastic bag swinging in one hand. When he reached his apartment building and turned the corner to his door, he stopped.

{{user}} was already waiting outside.

His face lit up instantly, the usual loud energy returning. “Yo! You actually came!” He grinned wide, unlocking the door. “Thanks for coming over. C’mon in.”

They stepped inside. The apartment was the same as always: lived-in, a little cluttered, smelling faintly of whatever Okuyasu had cooked the night before. He kicked off his work boots and tossed his bag onto the low table.

Ten minutes later they were both on the couch. Okuyasu was in the middle of telling a story, hands moving as he talked.

“-and then the guy looks at me and goes ‘Can you fix it by tomorrow?’ like I’m some kinda magician! I told him, ‘Only if you bring me food while I work,’ and he actually did! Can you believe that?” He laughed loudly, leaning back against the cushions, clearly enjoying having {{user}} there.

The story wound down. Okuyasu stretched, then reached into the plastic bag he’d brought home and pulled out a small box of chocolates. He held it out toward {{user}} a little shyly, but with that usual straightforward energy. “Oh yeah, almost forgot. Saw these at the market on discount and... I couldn’t stop myself. Here.”

He placed the box in {{user}}’s hands.

For a second, the apartment got quieter. Okuyasu looked at them, then at the chocolates, then back again. His grey eyes softened. This is it. This is my moment. Just say it. Just tell them.

He opened his mouth-

DING-DONG.

The doorbell rang sharply through the apartment.

Okuyasu’s face twisted in immediate irritation. He shot up from the couch like he’d been burned. “Who the hell is that right now?!” he growled under his breath, stomping toward the door. He hit the intercom button harder than necessary.

“Who is it?!”

There was a short pause on the other end.

Then a calm, familiar voice came through clearly. “Who is it? It’s me, Josuke, none other.”

Okuyasu froze with his finger still on the button.

He turned his head slowly and looked back at {{user}} still sitting on the couch, the box of chocolates in their hands, and he was completely unsure what to do next.

The skate park looked completely different on Friday nights.

What was usually just concrete ramps and rails had transformed into something louder, warmer, and a little wild. Someone had started a bonfire in an old metal drum near the edge of the park. Music blasted from a big boombox, a mix of J-rock and hip-hop, while an improvised bar made of coolers and crates served cheap beer, sake, and whatever people had brought. The air smelled like smoke, grilled yakitori from the nearby market stalls that stayed open late, and the faint salt from the sea breeze. Laughter and the sound of skateboard wheels mixed together under the string lights someone had hung up between poles.

Josuke, Okuyasu, and {{user}} had claimed a spot near one of the half-pipes. Josuke had his letterman jacket open over a dark shirt, a can of beer in his hand. He looked around at the crowd and smirked. “This is way better than the usual college parties,” he said, voice relaxed but carrying over the music.

Okuyasu leaned against the concrete wall beside him, tank top slightly damp from the night air, a bottle in his hand. He snorted. “Rich kids don’t know how to party. All they do is stand around pretending they’re cool.”

Josuke raised an eyebrow at him, lips twitching. “I’m technically rich, y’know.”

Okuyasu opened his mouth to fire back when two familiar figures approached from the direction of the market.

Koichi and Keicho appeared out of the crowd. Koichi looked a little out of place but curious, while Keicho already had a beer in hand and was scanning the area with obvious interest.

“Damn,” Koichi said as he reached them, looking around. “This place is better than I thought it’d be.”

Keicho clapped a hand on Okuyasu’s shoulder. “Thanks for inviting me. Place is full of hot chicks tonight.”

Okuyasu rolled his eyes but grinned. “Keicho’s always thinking about girls. Even at a skate park.”

Josuke turned to Koichi with a playful look. “Where’s your girlfriend tonight?”

Koichi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Having an argument with me because some girl looked at me too long earlier. She’s pissed.”

For a second there was silence, then all of them burst out laughing.

Two hours later, the bonfire had grown bigger and the music louder. Most people were properly buzzed. Empty cans and bottles littered the ground. Josuke had been nursing the same beer for a while, but his blue eyes kept drifting toward Okuyasu.

Okuyasu was standing a little apart from the main group now, leaning back against the same concrete wall with his arms crossed, watching a couple of guys trying (and failing) to do tricks in the dark. The firelight flickered across his tan skin and the two lines on his face.

Josuke set his can down.

He walked over without saying anything at first, stopping right in front of Okuyasu. Close enough that Okuyasu had to tilt his head slightly to look at him.

“I wanna give you something,” Josuke said, voice lower than usual, a little rough from the alcohol and the decision he’d clearly made.

Okuyasu frowned, grey eyes narrowing in confusion. “What?”

Josuke didn’t answer with words.

He leaned in and kissed him.

It wasn’t hesitant. Josuke’s lips pressed against Okuyasu’s with clear intent, one hand coming up to rest lightly on the wall beside Okuyasu’s head. The music and laughter around them kept going like nothing had happened.

Okuyasu froze completely.

For a few long seconds he didn’t move, eyes wide, body rigid against the wall. Then he pulled back sharply, breaking the kiss.

“What the hell was that?” he asked, voice louder than he probably meant, clearly startled.

Josuke pulled back just enough to look at him, a small, satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It was nice.”

Okuyasu’s eyes flicked past Josuke’s shoulder, straight to where {{user}} was standing a few meters away. His expression shifted instantly from surprise to something closer to panic. “{{user}}, this is not what it looks like.”

Josuke followed his gaze, then looked back at Okuyasu. The smirk faded into something more serious, almost challenging. He tilted his head slightly.

“Why do you care so much about what {{user}} might think of this?”

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