JUST MY TYPE

far, close, closer.

childe's pov!

everything had gone according to plan. even from across the hall, i could see my dearest friends scaramouche and [name] bickering. it was only natural after all- anyone who wasn't utterly blind or a fool could see that the two were bound to fall in love. there was no way out of it, for no matter how desperately they separated their paths, the universe always made it such that the two of them would meet again. 

yet the two of them could not- perhaps they were fools for each other. or maybe; just maybe, they might already know. their pride was just... a teensy bit in the way.

i could only smile in satisfaction, my eyes lighting up. "now, now. what to do next?" i mumbled, thinking out loud. it was then that i recalled the upcoming summer festival. the one i requested [name] to wear a suit for.

the summer festival was one that everyone in the entire cohort anticipated with great excitement. every class had to devise a booth to set up- the one which made the most money would win an award.  it was certainly an event that allowed room for competitiveness, camaraderie and lightheartedness, one that was explicitly scheduled after the examinations for the sake of the students so they could relax.

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(timeskip! [name's] pov.)

"what? your class is doing a fucking maid cafe?" you nearly spat out your water as you heard the reports from each class representative, which just so happened to be scaramouche, who had begrudgingly told you his class' booth. his expression was deadpanned and he looked so dead inside that he was probably serious. it was a few days after the ball now, and you were back to the boring vice head prefect.

"yeah. fuck, i don't even know why that sick puss in boots decided to do that," scaramouche replied, letting out a deep sigh of exhaustion. "puss in boots? oh, childe. him? pfttt," you chuckled, giggling at the mere thought of scaramouche being in a butler costume. 

"you haven't even heard the best part yet, comrade!" a familiar voice resounded from the doorway, guiding both you and scaramouche's eyes to meet the ginger's own azure blue ones. "our dear scaramooshy here is going to be wearing a maid costume! all the boys have to, actually. but like, scaramoochie is the star of the show for obvious reasons!" childe exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. 

you burst out in laughter along with childe till your stomach practically hurt, and to add insult to injury, scaramouche's annoyed expression only fueled your fire more, making you giggle even more.

"scaramouche? in a maid dress? that's like trying to mix water with oil," you gasped, still recovering from the outburst of laughter. 

"well, since there's like, 3 weeks till the summer festival, it'll really be a stress reliever for everyone after their exams, don't you think?" childe smirked deviously, scaramouche just sighing in response. 

you would have laughed, but something was... terribly off. scaramouche lacked his usual spite; his jests and taunts and violence were merely replaced with sighs and groans and just tired-looking burnt out college kid stereotypes. 

it reminded you of yourself. 

years ago, when you tried so hard to study till your eyelids would voluntarily droop, when coffee was your best friend. now, who was your best friend? the obvious answer was childe, as much as you weren't willing to admit it. 

yet who was your favourite friend? 

that name resounded in your head, yet you refused to admit it. scaramouche raiden kunikuzushi was your new frenemy, you reminded yourself. yet scaramouche raiden kunikuzushi was supposed to be hungry. he was supposed to be devious and daring; like the daredevil you knew. 

the silence from him was uncomfortable. 

"whats wrong?" you asked, and childe, reading the situation, swiftly made his great escape from the office. 

"studying. nothing much," scaramouche replied, rubbing his eyes. "caffeine solves it all, I'm speaking from experience." 

"you? studying? for what?" 

"I'm trying to impress someone, if you must know. god she's a hard one to please," he mumbled, and your heart practically dropped. it was hanging by a mere thread. 

"don't overwork yourself," you muttered in response, sighing. it didn't matter who he liked. it was none of your business. what was your business was the well-being of the students, and he was included. 

"who are you saying that as, ms. [first name] [last name]? the vice head prefect, [name], or my friend?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. his signature cocky grin resurfaced on his lips. 

"dream on if you think I'm asking this as your friend. I'm asking this as the vice head prefect, [name], and your dearest enemy," you replied. "your flirting back then still haunts me to this day." 

he was stunned for a moment, then he grinned and his gaze met yours. it was intoxicating; electrifying. walking towards you, he sighed, and with that, he fell into your arms, his head buried in your chest, as his eyes closed, and his full weight crashed on to you in a strangely graceful way. 

he had fainted from fatigue-it was evident from the eyebags and the streaks of blood in his eyeballs. yet what could you say? his being in your arms was a rather... vulnerable sight. 

one that pleased you. 

shaking your head, you carried him to the infirmary, ignoring your close proximity.