All it took was a plane crash, and Kise Ryota was no more.
Strangely enough, he didn't feel sadness, only regret. Regret for not checking his engine beforehand. Regret for missing out on his friends with his job as a pilot. Regret for not spending t...
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"Right, thanks again, Jun," Ryota said, somehow bashful as he took a sip of his drink, his left hand gently rubbing his earlobe.
Currently sitting in his friend's living room, Mikaël felt his action had gone to a whole new level of shamelessness. He noticed Junichiro rolling his dark brown, almost pitch black eyes behind his glasses at his words and couldn't refrain from nervously chuckling.
"Whatever," the raven sighed as he pulled a chair for him to sit next to the green head. The small, round table was almost full leaving only one free spot, as a boy, probably in his early teens Jun guessed, sat opposite Mika.
The second-year silently observed the brown-haired boy, a foreigner without a doubt and felt himself smiling. The boy with a bowl cut was quite cute, his oversized scarf accentuated his round face, making seem all the more childish. Though he had an aura of maturity one his age shouldn't have, Jun didn't question it. It wasn't something he could meddle into anyway.
"Though, why did you not go to your apartment, Mika?" He asked, turning to face the green head. "I mean, wouldn't it have been easier?"
Mikaël smiled, not answering his friend. "You haven't met Futtacchi, have you?" He rhetorically asked, forcefully changing the subject.
Jun pursed his lips but didn't comment on it, though the appellation made him slightly frown. Fuutacchi? Why was this boy called by such nickname, while his, was only a slip of the tongue? He mentally lamented. Trying to smile, though it seemed crooked, he shook his head in denial. "Nah."
Ryota ignored his friend's gloomy mood. The boy was trying to hide it, though he did a poor job at it as his acting skills were almost nonexistent, Mikaël decided not to tease him. It worked better that way for him.
"Well," he cleared his throat. "Futacchi, Hirose Junichiro," he began, talking to the younger boy who nodded with a grin at the black-haired teen, flashing him his pearly whites and showing off his cute dimples.
Ryota felt somewhat gratified, seeing him smile so purely, his eyes softened. He turned to face his glasses-wearing friend whose previous stiff expression hadn't faded. "Jun, Fuuta..." his voice trailed off, and he paused.
First, Junichiro grimaced, right, his nickname was a slip of the tongue. But then, he stared at the green quizzically. Why had he stopped his introduction midway?
Perhaps sensing the awkward atmosphere, Fuuta put down the cup he was holding. He beamed at the green, "De la Stella," he said. "Fuuta De la Stella," he introduced himself. "Please take care of me in the future," he asked with a small bow in the raven's direction.
