Archive of Our Own ^beta

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In his hands was something very familiar. His scarf, a cream colored cashmere, once given to him by his father some winters ago; he knew it well.

His memory of that Christmas day was something he thought back on often. Their date, how ridiculously flustered and happy he was, giving her the scarf, which secretly was a declaration of his love and adoration, secretly something he thought would, at least in theory, make her his, in a way—if she could possibly be in anyone's grasp, that it could be him. The moment that she made her promise to him, and his wish does not fade throughout the entire year.

A wish he thought had expired just moments ago, had come true in one way or another.

"Kurosaki…" Her name escaped his lips in a way he'd never felt before. He shuddered at the feeling.

You're Usa-chan Man!

He hung the scarf up the way he found it, and placed covers over his friends' sleeping forms. He sat back against the wall, facing Mafuyu's frame.

This small, strange girl who has been there for him for so long, is Usa-chan Man? No way? But the pieces fit perfectly, that frame and stature; he could practically imagine the mask covering her face right then. He even recalled that one time he caught her wearing it, and she and Saeki-sensei played it off.

It was a lie, a blatant one, at that, now that he's able to see it.

His head felt like it was going to overheat and he couldn't think about processing this anymore. Too many puzzle pieces and it was late.

He woke the rest of them up to return home, and wished them a Merry Christmas, setting off for the dorm with the guys.

This is something that can be thought about later, but as soon as possible, he deduced.

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Everything so far has been a lie.

He has no right to call her out on it, of course. He had his own share of secrets, but to the degree she had kept from him; Kurosaki Mafuyu has lied about nearly every single thing about herself surpasses anything he could imagine.

He understands her reasoning, of course. He got down to the bottom of things during the remainder of winter break, which actually wasn't all that hard to do. She didn't try too hard to cover her tracks, but it wasn't as if anyone would care enough to actually look into her background.

Ex-banchou of Higashi High, the one who unionized districts, unstoppable, never beaten, Kurosaki Mafuyu feigned the image of a frail, ordinary high school student after being expelled and transferred to Midori Ga Oka Academy. She couldn't openly fight so she fought under the guise of Usa-chan Man and Natsuo. Shocking that a girl like her who was so honest and "pure" in some strange way, was who she was. But yet it was understandable, but he still couldn't help but feel the sting of being lied to.

So there wasn't any shame in asking their friends, is what Hayasaka thought.

"Hmm, you realized it?" Yui said, incredulously, organizing stacks of club papers. Hayasaka wondered why he was sorting through that during the break, of all times.

"So you're saying you knew?"

"Yeah," the bespectacled teen rubbed at the back of his neck. He laid the sheets down. "I found out a while back when I had left the Disciplinary Club. It was an accident, but it honestly didn't change how I thought of Kurosaki. You know what I mean?"

I don't. "I guess."

"Well, no one else is supposed to know, except for us and some others, so just be careful."

"Others?" Hayasaka blinked. She let a whole bunch of people know her secret?

"The club, and Ayabe and Miyabi-sama," Yui counted his fingers. "That should be about it here."

The blond tried to think of something to say, but nothing came out.

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The break was over, and before classes start on the first day back, he catches her speaking to Ayabe. They were so friendly; like that it didn't even look like they were ever enemies.

Ayabe pulls something out of her hair, like it was normal, and she smiles all goofy like she always does. Ayabe even looked relaxed somehow in front of her. Hayasaka feels something weird, like his stomach stirred the wrong way, and he leaves for class before she could say hello.

Shit. He was running away, not addressing his problem. He was scared to find out why.

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"Hayasaka-kun," Mafuyu got so close that he was taken back by how he didn't notice her getting so in his face, her small hands gripping the ends of his desk. She always did give off an air of masculinity. "Are you avoiding me?"

He gulped. So she did notice.

He listens to her drone on about how he didn't properly receive her morning pounce for a greeting, how he didn't text her back "happy new year's," and how he clearly saw her this morning but clearly sauntered off upon seeing her.

All of which were true, so there were no excuses. She was more perceptive than she lets on.

He averted his eyes from her gaze, but felt a palm on the top of his head. Her touch felt like an apology, but Hayasaka didn't know she was the one who really needed to apologize anymore.

A moment passes and he doesn't move a centimeter, his breathing almost subsides.

"You know, I wasn't lying when I said your hair wasn't pretty," she whispers, almost uncharacteristically. But he knew that this was the part of her he fell for, the lie that was Usa-chan Man.

His hand encloses her wrist, bringing her hand down to his warm cheek and his jawline. She flinches a bit.

"Thank you."

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He doesn't plan out how to tell her that he knows who she is, but he doesn't know if he should wait until she tells him, either.

Kurosaki is still the person she always was, so he felt at ease, except one thing constantly messed with his head.

Whenever he sees her back, the silhouette paired with her frame, the sight makes his head fuzzy and he can't think straight. Hayasaka ignores that feeling though, barely, and he tries to get used to this. "Kurosaki will always be Kurosaki," has practically became a mantra for him over the past weeks, but Usa-chan Man was— Is?— his first love.

Today, she eats lunch with Okegawa, and his awareness of her has grown tenfold since he figured everything out. He fidgets, very aware of the strong man's fondness of her. It's very obvious how much he likes her, but it irks Hayasaka.

It's been a couple days since he's figured out why he feels jealous or left behind, but he doesn't want to admit anything for sure just yet.

With carrying her secrets (though without her knowledge of his awareness), he finds that the line drawn between them as people is holding him back even more than it ever has before.

It hurts.

He leaves to go back to the classroom, to settle back into the next period. He doesn't hear a single step she makes and when she sits down, he's caught way too off guard.

Was his guard down? Or is he just too used to her presence that he didn't even notice?

"Hey, are you okay?" Her concerned face is sweet and sincere, and it makes him think for a second.

"Yeah," Hayasaka doesn't look at her when he says this, "Can we talk after classes today?"

He senses a nod from her direction and her aura is just something indiscernible, but that was never anything new. She's always been hard to read and it makes him anxious often.

Class is back in session and he writes very small, very clean notes, trying to worry less. It doesn't help, of course, and he feels even more nervous than initially.

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"So what did you want to talk about?"

His eyes wander away from her face, and he looks at her ankles, thin like they could break if she fell (which was impossible, he already knew that much), and she's wearing stockings today because of the cold. Rare.

"Hayasaka-kun?"

"I wanted to tell about something I realized recently…" Don't chicken out. Why would you back out this far in?

She's silent but her face shows all of her curiosity, the confusion, and worriedness.

So he fesses up. He says everything he knows and he watches her eyes gloss and her lips curve down.

Her expression says a lot more than just that, and her head drops apologetically. She is silent, pulling him to the side to a random classroom, and she bows at such a perfect ninety-degree angle that he wonders if really how nimble her body could become.

"I'm so sorry, Hayasaka-kun," her voice is honest and she speaks like she is not from this world, and she probably isn't. She wasn't even going to bother trying to cover it up this time, "I didn't mean for you to find out like this."

His face burns somehow, and his eyes sting like he didn't know what he was expecting in the first place, but he knew what was coming. It wasn't like it wasn't true. It wasn't like he didn't know the truth now.

"Please continue to treat me as you have before." Kurosaki Mafuyu's voice does not falter once, and she is so strong. He only wishes he could be as strong as her.

Tears threaten to leave and he swallows harshly, feeling like he's suffocating.

She spills everything to him, and all the while her hands slide onto his, and he still doesn't say a word. She starts to hold him with that tiny frame and he swears her lips are a head turn away. She's Kurosaki Mafuyu, she's Usa-chan Man, it doesn't matter.

And she never gets to finish her explanation, or telling him how much she cares about him, and trusts him, and how sorry she is, over and over again.

"I love you."

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Coping is hard.

Hayasaka was always the type to cope in negative ways. He practically closed off most of his significant childhood memories, and forgot the things that should be the most important to him, and that took forever to just to overcome.

But her words are words he never forgets, any of the times.

Please reconsider, Hayasaka-kun. I know how you felt about Usa-chan Man, but I think you're mistaken saying this to me.

He left after she said that and they have not exchanged more than ten words in the last week. The day after everything happens, things blur quite a bit, and Hayasaka skips school, ignores all the friends knocking on his door, chokes some, and sleeps all day. As expected.

They both messed up. He's not going to blame it all on himself, except for what the three words he said to her that day.

He shudders into gross tears again. After having another moment, he realizes he can't just leave things in the air. Though, it was probably obvious that he was hurt and his heart ached like hell after being stepped on. She was always too inconsiderate.

But it was already nearly time for school again, and he hadn't left his bed or washed up. He hears a ping from his phone, and turns over to check the message.

Can we talk? It's understandable if you don't want to.

Hayasaka always knew that he couldn't really breathe in her presence. And he wasn't even in her presence this time.

He clicks a few keys and ends up sending just "yeah." She tells him time/place details if he shows up to school, and time/place details for if he doesn't, and he doesn't reply.

He stumbles out of bed and in front of the vanity and sink. His face is so red, he gets more embarrassed just by looking at himself, and his hair is sticking up all the wrong ways. But a smile is growing on his face, and he can't help how wide it gets.

When he makes it to class just barely, she's already in her seat. Mafuyu smiles like usual when she greets him, and his voice almost cracks when he says good morning back.

Class begins and he can't focus all that much on the board, notes left half written. She slips him a note under the desk, their fingers brushing when he takes it from her. It's a small gesture that feels like a static shock now, and he carefully opens the piece of paper.

It was a terribly drawn Usa-chan Man mask with a speech bubble that said, "I'm sorry," next to it. He almost guffaws out loud but covers his mouth. He almost forgot how terrible she was at sketching.

Glancing over to her, he sees her with nearly a straight face, looking at the board, but the corners of her lips were just slightly curved up.

He doesn't write back and puts the note into his bag.

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Since he came to school today, she requested they have lunch together for their talk. Which is nice, since she eats lunch with different people, every week, almost every day practically.

Hayasaka can barely hold his chopsticks while eating his bento. He almost drops them twice, and ends up just not eating, watching her movements. She eats carefully, savoring the food. It was home cooked, not one of those store bought ones. If he recalls correctly, Ayabe makes her lunches now. He tries not to think too hard about that, though.

"Are you going to finish that?"

"Not really." She cranes her neck slightly like she wanted the leftovers, and he holds the food up to her mouth. She eats it slowly, and her cheeks are tinted pink. It makes heat inch up his neck.

"So what did you want to talk about?" Stay calm, act like normal, ignorant.

Kurosaki gulps down the chunk of food, and rubs her hands together sheepishly, "Just everything I guess."

He tries not to act out of place, and messes with a loose thread down the side of his pant leg.

"Everything that we can get in, in a lunch period," she laughs. "… I didn't mean to scare you off like that the other day."

"You," he needs to take a deeper breath, "you didn't scare me off. I scared you off, I think."

"A little. I was just surprised, honestly."

"I don't see how, I mean, you knew how I felt about Usa-chan Man." Did he approach this subject too fast? Shit.

"That was about Usa-chan Man," her voice stalls, like there was a hitch coming in her throat, "I thought you would end up knowing better, that I am not just Usa-chan Man."

"Kurosaki, I know what I said."

She tenses up like that stunned her as much as it did. It was her turn to not have anything to reply with.

"I don't take back that I lo—"

Her hands clamp over his mouth, they were warm and slightly less than clammy, but close enough. Her nervousness had became very apparent.

"Don't say that. Is it worth it?" She speaks faster, at a higher pitch, but her voice still ends up fading into a whisper. Her hands leave his face, and she stands up. "Separate these things, okay? The price of knowing all of this is that who I am and who they are, are different."

"Separate what apart? I've already done my time 'reevaluating,'" Hayasaka pauses before his tone escalates to something he doesn't want to sound like, "And here I thought I was the one who was running away."

"Hayasaka-kun," Kurosaki Mafuyu had nearly hissed. "I'm sorry, but I just can't accept your feelings like that. I like you so much, you're my best friend, but I just don't feel like you're looking at me. Just that damn mask!" Her voice was strained, like she was being strangled. He has never seen her act this way before, and it worries him.

"Why isn't it enough just to believe what I say? We don't have to date or whatever, I just want you to know how I feel. You're the strongest person I have ever met, and you've kept me in line for years now. It's not just the mask."

"I was always scared that this kind of crap would happen if you found out," she packed away her bento almost franticly, "I don't need those idolizing eyes on me like that."

"Why should I not look that way at you? I love you!"

In a huff, she turns her back to him, again and again.

And he continues anyway, "Why couldn't you just have told me that you had someone else in mind? You had to tell me I was wrong about how I felt—"

Kurosaki faced him. "I'm sorry that it's hurting you, that you found out my secret and everything came to this, but it feels so heavy on me. Not just you."

"Why?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Her bitter smile said it all, even to someone as oblivious as him. His mouth threatened to gape a little and he felt like an idiot. "I don't treat people I don't like, like that, everyday. I feel the same way, and I do believe you—"

His face was probably as red as a tomato, and his lips quivered, "Oh."

She grips the empty container tight. "We should head back, now."

Hayasaka can't feel his legs. Mafuyu leans down, tilting her head, starting into that bright red face. He closes the distance between them and catches her lips with a ghost of a kiss. His hands still holding her necktie, she blushes so hard that he wants to laugh, but he's almost positive he's just as red as she is.

"I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry."

She kisses him full on the lips before he can retort, and he makes a sound akin to a squeak. The strength of her lips on his makes his head blank out for a second, and when they separate, she looks satisfied in asserting their positions and her own dominance.

"Remember this face. This is the face of your hero."

He obliges.

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