The only thing Ken knew was that there's no stopping people from entering his space. Those who surround him will increase day by day as his mother welcome strangers into their home.
Every day, little Ken deals with new faces, new experiences, and new interactions.
It started with meeting acquaintances, friends, close friends, old classmates, and even alleged distant relatives—until the young boy became accustomed to having different strangers get comfortable inside their home.
It never ends. It just repeats.
Although they all start with a superficial bond, each one eventually leads to heartfelt confessions.
Ken felt nothing but empty words. They sounded sincere and not at the same time.
None of them were able to actually prove honesty from their words. Ken would walk away, feeling nothing. No interest.
Then, he found one place, away from that estranged home of his. At least for now, Ken would be able to breathe some fresh air.
One moment, his nightmare haunted him even at his newfound safe space. Another, he found himself standing alongside the students whispering to themselves—just across from them—was a boy, picking up his things scattered around the ground.
No one wanted to help him. They'd rather watch and talk about what the boy seemed to them.
He looked stupid and naive.
First impression? Maybe.
Ken didn't think enough of that boy. He was just another new face that appeared at a new place.
But then, he was yet again there standing just a few inch from somewhat a deadbody on the hallway.
As Ken slowly approached the sprawled body, a strange sensation crept along the back of his neck and spread to his chest.
A quick thump? Maybe. Or just a chill. Either way, something felt wrong.
He reached out, hesitating a moment before placing a hand on the body's shoulder. The fabric of the uniform was cold and slightly damp.
With a steadying breath, Ken turned the body over.
His heart lurched. It was the boy from the entrance—had collapsed.
How had he ended up here? And why did he look even paler now?
Ken crouched, slipping an arm under Sato's back and hoisting him up with effort. The boy was light—too light. He barely stirred.
Without wasting another second, Ken carried him toward the infirmary, steps echoing down the corridor.
And ever since then, he felt that same strange sensation or even a presence as if someone was always watching him.
It didn't take long for Ken to learn that strange boy's name who started following him around.
Sato Hirota.
A name that stayed with Ken.
He hated those who kept an eye on him and approached him when they're told to do so... but he was calm and fine about Sato watching him from a far.
Ken couldn't really fathom why he'd tolerate at least that, but will and would argue with Renjiro bothering him.
Until it happened. That rainy day, inside a dark storage, with nothing but dusty old equipment around them—he was sitting there with Sato.
Ken opened his eyes and found himself staring closely to Sato's eyes. He felt the wetness and warmth on his lips despite the coldness spreading inside the storage.
He wasn't given a moment to react properly to what had just happened. Sato had already gotten away by the time he was about to speak.
The following days were oddly strange for Ken.
Sato has been avoiding him—he noticed it. It was obvious that it was because of that.
At first, Ken thought he didn't really need to chase someone who clearly wanted nowhere near him—it was so sudden. But he'd rather keep still.
Yet, something had been creeping inside his chest—a feeling he couldn't name it.
Loneliness, perhaps? Or maybe it's something else... it's deep and more than just that.
Nevertheless, Ken began feeling uneasy and anxious even. There was a sense of emptiness as though a piece was missing from his existence.
There's not exactly any words that could describe this feeling.
Just what is this? A question Ken had asked himself so many times.
But here he is... standing face to face with Sato. And somehow, for the first time, he felt relieved like a heavy weight had just been lifted off his shoulder.
The emptiness. The anxiousness, the uneasiness, the strange sensation that crept inside his chest for a while now—suddenly, vanished.
It was as if something inside him had been completed again.
Ken lay his eyes in Sato's face, crunching like the boy's about to cry anytime soon.
He softly exhaled. Sato opened his mouth and finally spoke: "Because I like you, Miura-kun! I'm in love with you."
Those words echoed inside Ken's head. He was shocked and confused at the same time.
Was it because of Sato's feelings for him? Or maybe it was about this thing inside him.
Ken felt something strange stir in his chest—subtle at first, like a ripple under still water. Then, suddenly, it hit him.
*Thump*
His heart pounded hard, once, deep and unfamiliar. It wasn't like fear or adrenaline from a fight. It wasn't panic, more tender, but overwhelming all the same.
It was as if his body had reacted before his mind could catch up, a raw, instinctive pull that left him breathless.
His heart had never done that before—not for anyone.
The sound echoed in his ears, pulsing with a kind of truth he hadn't been faced. It sacred him, not painful but because it wasn't.
It felt real. Too real.
Soon, realization hit him... all this time, he was aware of Sato's feelings but had been denying it unconsciously because of his fear of people getting close to him.
His own coldness prevented any emotional feelings from passing him.
Although Ken still couldn't figure out it yet, he wants to know Sato even more now. He knew that boy had piqued his interest since day one... until now.
Ken lifted his hand and reached for Sato's face, tracing his cheek and down to his chin.
When Sato finally looked up, he saw his own trembling reflection in Ken's eyes—softened, no longer cold.
There was a quiet warmth there, something unsure but undeniably present.
Ken's hand lingered on Sato's face, his thumb gently brushing along his jaw. His eyes searched Sato's, not for permission exactly, but for something an answer, a sign about this moment was real.
Then, slowly but surely, he leaned in.
There was no rush, only the steady closeness of two people caught between fear and something far more fragile.
But Ken kept going, closing the space between them until their foreheads nearly touched. His breath mingled with Sato's, warm and quiet.
And then, gently—almost hesitantly—Ken pressed his lips to Sato's.
Soft. Uncertain. Real.
A first kiss that tasted like a question, but also—finally—a step forward.
Sato's breath hitched. His eyes went wide, stunned, unmoving—like time had frozen for him. His heart was hammering against his ribs, disbelief etched into every inch of his face.
"Miura..." Sato whispered under his breath, cheeks tinge pink up to his ears.
"You're beet red," Ken said, his eyes laced with amusement but softer than a smile. His thumb stilled on Sato's cheek.
"I... I didn't think you..." Sato said, voice barely above a whisper.
"Me neither," Ken said, "Until now."
Their breaths mingled. The air between them buzzed with something electric—fragile, but undeniable.
"Can I kiss you again?" Ken asked, voice hoarse with the weight of everything unsaid.
Sato didn't answer with words. He just closed the last inch between them.
Another kiss. More tender this time, more than just a smooch. Or even a peck.
They both softly exhaled. Both noses and foreheads touching each other's.
Ken pursed his lips and said, "I like you too..."
[!!]
"... I think."
Sato's eyes wells up after hearing the words from Ken's mouth. His heart thumped even more now than when they were kissing. "I'm so happy..."
Ken smiled gently and warmly. "Let's go out on a date... please."
Sato looked up to him with tears, starting to trail down his cheeks.
"I want to get to know you better, Sato."
"Yes! I would love to." The boy answered with teared joy in his voice.
Not long after, they heard someone call out faintly. "Over here!"
Sato perked up and stood by the door as soon as he recognized Renjiro's voice.
His heart leapt—finally, a sign of progress.
A few tense moments later, the jingle of metal echoed down the corridor. The doorknob rattled, and then with a soft click, the lock turned.
Renjiro stepped into view, slightly breathless but grinning. "Thank goodness you guys are still okay," he said, holding up a small brass key on a worn leather string. "Sasaki-sensei gave me the master key, and I asked the janitor to help me."
The janitor—Mr. Mitsuyama emerged behind the boy with a more confused look than a relief. "Are you kids alright?" He asked, genuinely concerned.
Sato gave a faint smile, though he was glad help came just in time. If it took longer than planned, he wouldn't know what more would've happened to them inside.
As the tension between them became charged, the gentle touch and kisses were enough to make Sato weak on his knees.
The erotic sensation ran down his spine as he felt Ken's hand explore his neck, shoulder, down to his hips.
He couldn't believe it.
It was news to him—a new discovery about one's self.
He wasn't sure what startled him more—the warmth of Ken's lips or the way his body welcomed it without hesitation.
Sato pulled back slightly, searching Ken's eyes. "M-Miura... I don't think I'm ready—"
Ken didn't react right away—but when he realized something, he instantly let go of Sato—pushing him abruptly.
He stepped back, jaw tight, avoiding eye contact. "Sorry, I shouldn't have... I wasn't thinking right—"
He stopped himself, biting down on the words.
While Sato's heart thudded in his chest. "N-No, I—it's okay... I just didn't expect it."
The boy stood frozen, the echo of Ken's touch tingling across his skin.
He turned halfway back, eyes softening. "We should think about doing this thing through." Ken said with a soft sigh.
That vulnerability—the crack in Ken's calm exterior—was enough to pull Sato from the fog in his chest. He nodded. "Yeah... you're right."
The brief silence stretched. Awkward.
Ken finally looked at him fully, eyes welling up. "I'm serious about this relationship. So, I think we should take it slow from here."
Sato beamed warmly. There was so much love in his eyes. The way he laid his gaze towards Ken's direction says everything that deeply about his feelings for the boy.
Just then, they heard voices and faint footsteps.
The door creaked open.
Light spilled into the room, and two figures appeared in the doorway—Renjiro and the janitor.
"I'm sorry it took me this long to come back." Renjiro sighed softly.
"It's alright, Koizumi-san," Sato said, straightening in his voice, trying to mask his flushed self. He glanced briefly at Ken, who stood still, arms folded tightly across his chest.
"We thought we'd be stuck there for more hours." Sato added quickly, voice light and uncertain.
"Miura-kun and I are okay now, right?"
But Ken didn't say a word.
He stayed frozen—expression unreadable, except for the way his eyes glinted under the low lighting. Cold. Intense. That wasn't silence out of shyness.
It was like a silence holding back a storm.
Sato swallowed. He knew that look. Knew Ken wasn't mad at him—at least, not entirely.
It was him—Renjiro.
Ken could feel it in his gut. What happened earlier...
The timing, the circumstances—it wasn't a coincidence. Something about it felt orchestrated. Ken didn't believe in accidents when it came to someone like Renjiro.
His stare burned into the boy like a warning shot—sharp, quiet, deadly.
Sato saw it and immediately stepped between them.
He placed a hand on Renjiro's arm, gently pulling him back. "Hey, uh—he's just tired. But he's glad you showed up when you did," Sato said quickly, his voice a little too loud, a little too fast.
Renjiro raised an eyebrow, amused. "Is that so?" He leaned slightly toward Ken with a sly grin. "Maybe I should've gone back a little more late, then."
Ken's brow twitched.
Then, with a low grunt, he stepped forward—and before Renjiro could react, Ken hooked an arm around his neck, locking him in a loose headlock.
"You little—!" Ken growled, knuckles digging roughly into Renjiro's scalp.
"Hey—ow—! What the hell, Ken?! That hurts! Didn't you have your moments back there?!"
"Have my—? You set it up, didn't you?" Ken's voice was a low, gritted mutter as he rubbed Renjiro's head harder.
Sato stepped back, lips twitching between a nervous smile and genuine surprise. Even the janitor looked up briefly from his tools, watching the scuffle with an expression that suggested this wasn't the first time he saw two boys act like this.
"Okay, okay—!" Renjiro flailed. "Let go! I get it! You're mad! Just stop it!"
Ken finally released him with a sharp exhale, stepping back, arms crossed again, still brooding.
Renjiro straightened his shirt dramatically. "Jeez. I get that you're not a touchy person, but when you do, you go rough, dude."
"I wasn't being touchy. You're lucky I didn't throw you out the window," Ken muttered.
For a brief moment, the hallway became quiet.
Then, Sato felt Renjiro's eyes land on him—not harsh, not judgmental, but searching.
[?!]
"You look pale," Renjiro murmured. "Did something happen while I was gone?"
Sato opened his mouth to answer, but the words tangled. Too much had happened in just a few minutes.
"I'm fine," he managed.
Even if Sato doesn't say anything, Renjiro gave a knowing grin as if he already had a hunch of what had happened.
He shrugged casually. "Well, you two do look... closer."
Ken tensed behind Sato.
Renjiro winked. "Guess I'm glad you two worked it out."
Sato could only give a nervous laugh.
Then, Mr. Mitsuyama's eyes drifted between Ken and Sato, pausing just long enough to let the silence speak
The janitor—a quiet, grizzled man with tired eyes—stepped forward and gave them a brief nod. "Didn't mean to interrupt anything," he muttered, already surveying the corners of the door with a practiced gaze.
"I think we need to call for someone," he said. "There seems to be an issue with the door."
[!!]
Ken and Sato looked at each other, then back at the door.
"What kind of issue?" Ken asked, voice low.
The janitor crouched near the doorframe, frowning as he ran a hand along the edge. "Lock mechanism's jammed. From the inside."
Ken blinked. "Wait—from the inside?"
Mr. Mitsuyama nodded. "Yeah. That door didn't just stick. Someone made sure it stayed shut."
A heavy beat passed. Sato felt the air tighten.
Ken's eyes slowly turned toward Renjiro—sharp, unreadable, and cold.
Renjiro raised both hands with an innocent grin. "Hey, don't look at me. I even got help to open it, remember?"
Sato chuckled nervously, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.
Perhaps there was a sense of relief that Renjiro wasn't the one behind the door incident.
Later at dusk, as the soft orange light filtered through the windows and the three boys settled, Renjiro stood and stepped toward the closet in the corner.
He rummaged through it quietly, the gentle clatter of shifting items.
After a moment, he pulled out a new, well-kept novel. Turning with a small smile, he walked over and handed it to Sato.
[!!]
"Just like I promised earlier," Renjiro said, voice low but warm.
Sato's eyes lit up as he took the book, his hands brushing over the cover.
"Thank you, Koizumi-san." Sato laughed softly, cradling the book like a gift.
And for a moment, there was only quiet appreciation between them—simple, and sincere.