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There was nothing extraordinary about Aoyagi Ryou. He was a 17-year-old high school student, slightly smaller than the other boys. He had plain black hair and dark brown eyes encased by silver glasses, absolutely nothing outstanding about him. He was seclusive, preferring his own company to others, and shy when talked to or called upon.

Nobody gave this boy a second look, or even a first one. Except, perhaps, for one boy.

There was everything extraordinary about Mishiba Kazuo. He was tall, with long black hair that he wore in a ponytail. He had sapphire blue eyes, signalling that he was half Japanese at best. He was muscular, but not looming; with broad shoulders and strong arms. He was an academic marvel, as well as a athletic one, along with being incredibly popular.

One would think why these two completely opposite boys could cross paths or even notice each other. Mishiba was older, popular and incredibly smart; Aoyagi was small, recluse and shy. Perhaps it was all these differences, these dissimilarities that drew then together in the first place.


Dark curtains were drawn over the windows. The only light inside the room peeked in from under the closed door, barely illuminating the two boys inside. One, pressed against the wall, the other pressing.

Small, unsure hands clasped the shirt of the older student, tugging the white material. Brown eyes widened as a hungry mouth clamped over his exposed neck while his hands slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

The smaller boy, thought only by a head, pushed on the older boy’s chest. He stopped, gazing down at the younger brunette with lust-filled eyes. He stopped his quest of unbuttoning the shirt and brought one hand up to the little brunette’s face.

He gently stoked his cheek, while the younger boy placed a hand over his. He nuzzled into it lightly, eyes fluttering open and shut. The taller boy pulled the brunette off the wall and into a tight embrace.

“You need to chill, Ryou,” his silken voice vibrated through the smaller boy’s body.

Ryou relaxed into the embrace, bunching the material of the older boy’s shirt. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Ryou, don’t apologise,” he told the younger boy.

Ryou looked up into the older student’s eyes, brown meeting black. The dark eyed boy slowly began to rub soothing circles along Ryou’s spine. He gave Ryou a small smile and leaned down to kiss his forehead.

“I hate hiding like this,” Ryou mumbled.

The older boy responded, “I do too. But how would everyone react to this? They couldn’t accept us.”

Ryou sighed and slid out of the taller boy’s embrace. He began to button up his own shirt before doing the same to the other boys. Ryou avoided his eyes though, knowing that if he looked into them, he would sink into them.

“We better go,” he mumbled, buttoning the shirt. “Lunch is almost over,” he added as an afterthought.

“Mm?” came the reply.

Ryou finished straightening his lover’s uniform, smoothing the creases out and fixing his collar. Ryou moved for the door and opened it a crack before the older boy wrapped his hands around Ryou’s waist. He pressed his lips on the back of his neck, warm breath washing over cool skin.

He slowly moved up to his ear, ignoring the bell signalling the start of class. Hovering over his ear, Mishiba said, quietly and almost inaudible, “Aish*teru.”


It was another normal day at school. Students shuffled around desks, eating and gossiping together. Ryou sat at his desk in the back, quietly eating his lunch. He liked days like these. Outside, it was grey. Cloud thick and grey threatened to spill over Tokyo, drenching the city, and consequently, the school.

Ryou loved the rain. It reminded him of his only good memory since starting at the school. It reminded him of Kazuo. Of being held in those strong arms he got lost in, of those larger hands that hold him so tight and of those lips that so tenderly kissed him.

Ryou sighed and turned back to his lunch. He wanted to see him. He wanted to see his love so much right now. To see that face that, those eyes that looked like sapphires and reflected his desires like a lake. He wanted those strong hands wrapped around him once more, the sweet nothings whispered in his ears again.

Another sigh escaped his lips. This was going to be a long day. He pushed his lunch around a little before discarding it. He lost his appetite. He pulled a sketchpad out his bag along with his pencil case. Ryou loved art the most. He loved to draw, to try and capture the beauty of the world around him.

Sometimes he found it hard. He found the beauty in nature, in the oceans gently waves, the winds loving caress, the cloud’s soft rainfall, but not in people. He only saw ugliness, different shades of black and grey, disgusting, suffocating him. ‘There was no beauty in these creatures’, he thought.

“There is no splendour in creatures that cannot accept love if the people are the same gender. Does it matter what gender you are? Love is love is love. Why should it matter?’

These gentle musing were interrupted by a voice.


Ryou snapped his head up, looking at the owner of said voice. It was a girl with long brown hair pulled into braids and large brown eyes. Her uniform was neat and pristine, save for the shortened skirt.

“Y-y-yes, Haruno-san?” he asked, flushing.

She giggled a little and said, “Mishiba-sama is at the door for you.”

Ryou looked from her to the door, now noticing the tall figure that had attracted so much attention. Ryou shot out his seat abruptly, accidentally bumping the desk with his thighs. He flushed at the small laughter he had caused, especially from Haruno.

“A-a-arigatou, Haruno-san,” he rushed, walking to the door.

“Don’t mention it,” she muttered, making her way back to her friends.

As he walked to the door, he now heard the voice he was longing for. It’s rich and silky baritone washed over him, making him close his eyes for a moment. He rushed to the door.

“Mishiba-sama, can you stay for lunch?” a girl gushed

“Onegai, Mishiba-sempai?” another girl asked.

Mishiba smiled crookedly at the gaggle of girls, causing them to sigh.

Fangirls… whatcha going to do with ‘em?

“Gomen, I’m just here to talk to Aoyagi-san about Art club,” he said, still smiling.

“Mishiba-sama! Mishiba-sama! Can I join art club too?” the first girl asked.

“Gomen, once again, club enrolments closed last month,” he apologised.

“Mishiba-sempai?” Ryou asked.

The group of girls moved, grudgingly, and allowed Ryou through. Ryou stood under the scrutinising look of the older student, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. He glanced up and saw that same beaming smile he gave the girls, though this one looked like it had more feeling.

“May I speak with you for a moment, Aoyagi-san?” he asked politely.

“S-s-sure, sempai,” he answered, unsure.

Ryou stepped out the classroom and into the hallway. He slid the door shut behind him and looked up to Mishiba. The older boy dropped his façade in the empty hallway. He leant in and kissed Ryou, licking his bottom lip.

Ryou responded, allowing him entrance into his mouth. Mishiba wrapped his arms around him, pulling the smaller boy against his chest. “I’ll be a little late to club this evening,” he whispered to the boy.

“Why?’ Ryou mumbled into his chest. He felt the smirk on Mishiba’s lips as he said, “What’s wrong, Ryou? You jealous?”

Ryou blushed furiously and spluttered, “Wha… umm… no… umm…”

He felt the deep rumbling of Mishiba’s chest as the older boy laughed. Ryou flushed a brilliant ruby and stayed against his chest. Mishiba gently kissed the top of his head, to reassure him.

“I have an assignment to finalise with Katsuo-sensei,” he explained. “ I’ll be half an hour late at best, so no need to be jealous, Aibou.”

Ryou murmured something into his chest and pulled off the older student. There was a small smile on his face, a genuine smile. “Okay”, the smaller boy beamed. “I’ll have your canvas out for you by the time you get to club.”

Mishiba smiled, “Arigatou, Aoyagi-san.”

Mishiba excused himself, walking back to his class. Ryou watched him leave, still smiling. He clutched his chest to try and quell his thumping heart, all the while missing the pair of eyes watching him.


The bell had rung not ten minutes ago and Ryou was already on his way to Art Club. The club didn’t start for another twenty minutes, plus it was an extra half an hour on top of that until Mishiba was getting there.

There were no real members in the club besides Ryou and Mishiba. Everyone else who had supposedly joined the club never turned up. They used it as a ‘go home early’ club instead, but this looked better on any application they give.

While Ryou was hurrying to the club, he accidentally bumped into someone. Ryou stumbled back, away from the object he eagerly ran into. He bowed his head quickly, avoiding eye contact and said, “Gomen nasai.”

“Aoyagi-kun,” a voice giggled.

“H-H-Haruno-san?” Ryou asked, looking at the girl.

Haruno smiled prettily. She picked up her book bag she had dropped and asked, “Where’s the fire, Aoyagi-kun?”

Ryou blinked and said, “T-there’s no fire, H-Haruno-san. Just Art Club.”

“Oh, wow, really? Can I see the clubroom? I want to join next year,” she asked, hands clutching her bag in enthusiasm. Ryou blushed, and unsure of how to turn the girl down, agreed to show her the room.


The Art Club room was a small room on the topmost floor of the three-story school. It was cluttered with paints, canvases, a few desks and all other equipment the club might need. There were several large windows along the wall, in case they needed to air out the room. Over the windows, were stained but dark curtains that were blocking out the majority of light.

Ryou put his book bag on a spare desk, the one he usually occupied, and slumped into the seat. He watched Haruno out the corner of his eye as she explored the room, apparently interested in every little detail.

Ryou cleared his throat and said, “S-s-so, Haruno-san, why do you want to join Art Club?”

“Sumire,” she said

“What?” he asked, confused.

“You can call me Sumire, not Haruno,” she clarified

“O-o-oh, then… Sumire-san… what made you interested in Art Club?” he asked her once again.

She paused for a moment and sighed, “Mishiba-sama.” She went back to scrounging through the room, leaving Ryou to ponder the meaning. She glanced back at Ryou and snickered at his behaviour.

She stopped her scrounging and sidled over to his desk. She perched herself on the edge of it and looked him in the eyes. “Mishiba-sama is the reason I wanna join,” she told him.

Ryou lit up three different shades or red at the close proximity and muttered, “o-oh really?”

“Yes, so you can imagine my shock when I found out he was un a relationship with someone. Especially you, Ryou-chan,” she said, sneering.

Ryou blinked stupidly at her. He felt his cheeks heat up further and whispered, “W-w-what did you say?”

“I said,” she repeated as she moved off the desk, “that I know about you and Mishiba-sama.”

He watched her pick up a box cutter from a unoccupied desk and make her way back to him. She glared at him, wanting nothing more than to make the boy disappear.

“Here’s the deal,” she said, smirking. “You forget all about Mishiba, everything and no one will find, especially Mishiba-sama’s father. Who knows how his old man will take it.” She leaned in closer to the boy and whispered, “I don’t ever want you near MY Mishiba again, or you’ll get an injury you wont recover from.”

Ryou slid back further in his chair, shivering as she waved the box cutter in his face. Haruno removed the blade from near his face and put it back no the table. She gave Ryou one last smirk before leaving the room. As she got to the door, it opened itself and Mishiba stood at the door.

“Oh, hi Mishiba-sama,” Haruno said in a cheery voice.

“Good evening,” he replied. “What were you doing?” he asked, a little curious.

“Oh, Aoyagi-kun was just showing me the Art Club room for next year,” she lied. “Well, I’ve gotta get home. Bye, Mishiba-sama, Aoyagi-kun.” The girl walked off smiling and waving.

Mishiba shrugged and shut the door behind him. He moved over towards his younger lover. “Well now, it’s a little dark, don’t you think, Aibou?” Mishiba moved to the window a few steps from the desk and drew back the curtains.

He sighed contently at the view and turned back around to see his lover. It was only now that Mishiba noticed his shook-up state. Ryou was standing, glasses lop-sided on his face. He was trembling and fisting the material of his white blazer.

“Ryou?” Mishiba asked, alarmed

Ryou dashed to the older boy, throwing his arms around his waist. Ryou buried his head into Mishiba’s chest and cried while the older boy tried to comfort him. Mishiba wrapped his arms around Ryou, encircling the boy tightly.

“Hey, Ryou, what’s wrong, Aibou?” Mishiba asked, concerned.

Ryou continued to cry until Mishiba pulled him off. He knelt down and asked him again, “What’s wrong?”

“H-H-Haruno knows a-a-about usss,” he cried. “She’s g-g-going to tell e-e-everyone about it, I-I-including y-your father.”

Mishiba froze. There was no way he could afford this to get to his father. His father was a congressman, and if it got out that his son was in a relationship with another boy, his reputation would be ruined along with his children’s life.

Mishiba pulled Ryou to him, eyes watering. Ryou accepted the embrace, still weeping. “Hush now, Aibou,” Mishiba whispered.

Ryou stopped weeping, and looked up at his now standing lover. He had a gentle smile on his face, much as if nothing had happened. They were in front of the window still, with Mishiba’s back pressed against the glass.

“They’ll never accept us, Ryou,” he stated simply. Ryou watched as Mishiba slid a ring off his finger. It was beautiful, platinum, with a small blue stone embedded in it. “Here,” he said, offering the ring.

Still in shock, Ryou slowly extended his hand. He watched Mishiba put it on him, on his left hand, ring finger. “If father finds out, we’re all ruined. You, me, him, my mother and sisters.”

“What do we do?” Ryou asked.

“Lets go where there can’t find us, Ryou”


“The bottom of the river. Ryou. Lets be together always, even in death.”



One week later, at dusk, two boys stood on a bridge over a large, deep river. The bridge was at least two stories from the river surface, which was deceptively deep and filled with jagged rocks. Over the edge of the railings, the boys balanced on the small jutting shelf of metal. They hands were intertwined.

They looked at each other and soundlessly nodded. Ryou tightened his grip, ring digging into his hand as he took the step off.

“I’m sorry, Ryou”

Ryou’s eyes opened in shock as his hand slipped out of Mishiba’s. The older boy was still firmly holding onto the railing and not letting go.

“I can’t do this. I… I can’t”

Ryou cried out and reached for him as he fell. He felt his heart break when he saw Mishiba still there, and Haruno now standing next to him, looking content. Ryou cried for his now lost love until he broke the surface of the water.

His hand remained outstretched, reaching for the surface, for Mishiba, as he sank to the bottom.

There was nothing extraordinary about Aoyagi Ryou, not in life nor death.
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