boba boy , inumaki

ten

this was supposed to end at 5.

clearly, maki had underestimated the endurance of the special-grade cursed spirit. inumaki was the one who made a plan to meet y/n at 6. it is currently 7, and he's still busy exorcising this persistent curse.

he's scared.

he's so so scared he's not going to be able to see y/n again. she won't work there anymore, and if she thinks he stood her up, that's the last he's going to see of her. he only agreed to come with maki after she told him he would be back in the school by five. they're really far from the cafe right now—the bullet train here took an hour—so there's no way he can go back now and be on time.

he throws his bottle of cough syrup onto the ground. it's empty now, and his throat is burning. he can still stand, and he does, pushing himself off the ground with much strength.

"blast away."

it's his third time saying that, but it finally seems to work—the curse crashes against a tree and crumbles to the ground. he sighs, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. he'll call y/n. she'll understand.

but he takes a look at the phone's cracked screen, tries to switch it on twice, and realises it got destroyed in the fight.

"i'm sorry," he hears a voice say. maki's behind him, apologising, and he shakes his head. it's not your fault, he signs to her, and she looks away. "let's get going, she must be waiting."

he zips his collar back up, too worried to even think. maki pats his shoulder, "she'll be waiting. she'll wait for you."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*🧋*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

y/n hangs her head, letting her hair fall over her face, blocking her vision.

it's 8. he's late. she checks her watch for the fifty-second time that night, and calls him for the third time, but as usual, he doesn't pick up.

did he stand me up...?

he eyes fall on the cup of coffee she made for him, the latte art still visible and swirling. he'll come, she tells herself, over and over. he'll come. he'll come.

and she can feel herself nodding off, and in her half-conscious state she hopes she doesn't fall asleep. but her eyelids are heavy, and she isn't even sure he's coming.

if your head falls on the bench, it'll hurt.

she reminds herself, slipping in and out of consciousness. she tries to check her watch again, but her vision is blurry. and finally, her eyelids droop and she feels her body fall.

instead of making hard contact with the bench, something soft catches her face. her eyes shoot open, and in front of her is inumaki, holding her face in his hands. if your head falls on the bench, it'll hurt, he signs to her.

he's signing something, about how he's sorry for being late, but all her attention is caught by the blood leaking from his mouth. "gosh, are you okay?" she cuts him off, reaching out to thumb the blood away.

he flinches, unused to someone touching any area close to his lips, but relaxes against her touch, "i was fighting."

and she's pulling out tissues and patting the spot next to her on the bench, urging him to sit down. she dabs the blood away and says, "you look over exerted."

he shakes his head.

reaching into her bag, she offers him cough syrup. his eyes widen, why do you have this? and she laughs, saying how she saw him take it out once or twice in the cafe, and how it's probably important.

he can't help but feel himself smile, through all this blood and all this worry. his face is all red, so red he can't hide it anymore, but he doesn't mind.

"oh, and i got you your coffee. it's cold by now, so you don't have to drink it, but, i did the art for you."

he stares curiously at the heart shape on the surface and tilts his head, signing, i thought i asked for a panda.

she smiles, "yeah. this is me giving you my heart."

dark red hues appear on his cheeks as he splutters, "h...heart?" she grins. he realises, she's blushing, when she says that. his favourite person is blushing. at something she said to him. what else can he say except his heart has flown to the moon without him?

so with a bleeding mouth, he parts his lips to say something, but his breath catches in his throat.

"you don't have to say it, just sign it to me," she tells him.

but he shakes his head. he wants it to be special. he beckons for her to lean in, and while resting his arm on her shoulder, he cups a hand around his mouth to whisper.

his voice comes out shaky and soft, a whisper, "i really, really like you." out of the corner of his eye, he sees her face get redder. "probably much more than you think. oh, and," he giggles, "boba, in my vocabulary list, means i like you."

when he pulls away, she's staring at him, stunned, her face so red. "but you said 'boba' to me so long ago. and maki didn't know what it meant."

he nods, and it's self-explanatory. he's liked her since so long ago. then he signs, i made that word for you.

and she breaks into a bright smile, her whole face lighting up. "we don't have to worry about not being able to meet at the cafe anymore."

he laughs, the kind that sounds more like a breath. "we won't." his voice is still unsteady, but she doesn't mind.

they sit in silence, with inumaki sipping the coffee—he decided to drink it even though it's cold—y/n made it for him, after all. "inu," she says, "can i kiss you?"

he nearly spits out his drink, but thank goodness he swallowed it fast, or he would've made an embarrassing mess out of himself. he nods, lips trembling as he whispers, "kiss me."

and she does. she doesn't care that there's still a slight taste of coffee or that she can maybe, maybe taste his cough syrup.

and when they pull away, hearts beating so fast, flustered and red in the face, they laugh. they're laughs of relief, laughs of longing. i can finally call you mine!

he taps her on her shoulder, "happy birthday."

she grins, "you remembered."

we should get a cake, he signs and she laughs, slipping her hand into his as they stand up. "yeah, let's go get a cake."

the end!