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It was their last new years as Hope's Peak Academy students. This spring they would finally be graduating. So it seemed only right that Akamatsu organized a class trip to the shrine near the campus for the occasion. In the first two years, most of them had gone home over the holidays but the growing sense of nostalgia as they got closer to their graduation had them all staying in the dorms. Plus being 3rd years they were now all 18 years old or older so it seemed more adult to just hang out with friends. They spent the nights in the dorms playing games and cooking meals together. It was pleasant and enjoyable and Saihara couldn’t imagine a better way to end the year.
They all agreed to go to the shrine together at midnight. That way they could listen to the bells and ring in the last year they would be classmates together. And then after they could spend the first sunrise how they wished the next day and visit the shrine over the next few days with loved ones and significant others as usual. But the first seconds of that new year would be them together as a class before they would go their separate ways come graduation.
On New Year’s Eve, the girls all got together early to get dressed. Akamatsu had insisted they all wear kimonos. Only Yumeno seemed a bit reluctant because it seemed like a lot of work but she was soon talked into it by Yonaga and Chabashira. As usual. Saihara thought it was funny how predictable they all had become. Akamatsu taking charge of the group. Tojo taking care of them. Iruma being brash and crude as always, but softer once you actually took the chance to talk to her. And then the close friendship formed between the other three girls. Strange how in a few months they might all go their separate ways. That thought made him feel weirdly empty despite having just finished dinner with his 15 classmates.
The boys sat in the common area while they waited for the girls. Some of them played cards. While the rest just lounged on the couches, still very full from Tojo’s toshikoshi soba. Saihara declined the invitation to play cards and joined Momota on the couch. Kiibo and Shinguji sitting on the couch opposite them. The warm noodles and amazake sat heavy on his stomach and lounging was all he really wanted to do until it was time to walk down to the shrine. Kiibo complained that the boys weren’t dressing up and talked about how much he loved traditional Japanese clothing which led to a casual talk about what kind of kimonos they expected the girls to wear. Luckily it was not too cold of a night. Cold enough that the snow from a few days ago still lingered on the ground but not so cold that he feared any of his classmates catching ill from being out. The languid and leisurely air of the night persisted as the boys carried on while the girls got prepared.
The table playing cards was surprisingly calm, especially since the game was being led by Ouma. Usually, he made every game overly complicated with strange rules and overdramatic bets. But he seemed rather reserved tonight. Quiet as Hoshi continued to beat them all at poker, the pile of hard candies being used as chips by him growing larger and larger by each hand. Gonta was knocked out early, his poker face was atrocious after all. But the others just let him continue to play without betting. He overheard some lighthearted teasing about it from Ouma but not nearly as played up as usual. Funny. Wonder why he was acting so strange…
Saihara noticed Momota staring over at the table and he urged him to go join with a laugh. Probably a mistake since he was an awful gambler, but with only candy at stake, he doubted it would be an issue. Amami swapped out amicably with Momota, claiming he was way out of his league and joined him, Shinguji, and Kiibo on the couch. He talked about the trip he was planning after graduation. It wasn’t always quiet and peaceful like this. In fact many times it was quite the opposite. Their class was full of all sorts of wild personalities after all. So many stories they could relive from their wild high school days sometime down the road. But maybe there was some sort of magic in this day that kept everything in this sort of simple peace. The only person that worried Saihara was Ouma. He was still playing cards but was extremely quiet, a strange sort of distant expression on his face as he stared over his hand and off into space.
Saihara had gotten to know all his classmates quite well over the past few years. Despite being incredibly shy and self-conscious when he first arrived at Hope's Peak, he ended up growing quite close to everyone. Akamatsu and Momota had helped him come out of his shell and allowed him to interact with even the largest of personalities in the class. Despite all their differences, he really did consider them all dear friends, ones he had all sorts of entertaining memories with.
Ouma had always been a tough one, however. Every time he thought he got closer, the more the other boy seemed to dance away just out of his reach. Keeping him at a distance with his lies. But he never gave up spending any time he could trying to see if he’d ever get to see past that mask he always seemed to wear. He never really fully succeeded but after over two and a half years as classmates, he definitely considered him a close friend. Saihara thought the feeling was at least returned, Ouma did seem to spend more time with him than the others. And even though he still teased and joked, he never was cruel to him. But still, every time he grew closer, there still seemed to be so many walls around him. Like he could never exactly know the real Kokichi Ouma beyond the lies. It was frustrating but also at the same time so interesting. He was intriguing, a mystery he could never quite solve. Saihara realized he must have ended up staring at Ouma during his internal musings because he found the other boy giving him a weird sort of look before winking at him mischievously. He looked away quickly but he could hear his laughter from the table.
Thankfully, the girls entered the lounge and interrupted any chance for him to feel uncomfortable about the whole interaction. Gonta exclaimed loudly about how lovely they looked and how he would make sure as a gentleman no one insulted them tonight. Momota was gushing over Harukawa in her red and black kimono, her long hair pinned back instead of her usual twin-tails. She seemed to be blushing as red as the kimono in response. Amami was complimenting Shirogane who apparently had custom made all of the kimonos. Which made sense how they all seemed to match their sense of style so well. Shirogane often talked about how she was so plain, but her designs were anything but, she was truly talented. Akamatsu came up to him, her kimono mostly pink with an orange obi, music notes adorning the fabric. He told her she looked amazing and she beamed before making her way around the group chatting casually. Shinguji was sharing the historical significance of kimonos and he thought Yonaga might be listening. Kiibo was gushing over the designs and had Iruma blushing like mad in response. The sounds of his classmates, pleasant and familiar. But there was something off about the scene.
Ouma was still over at the card table, sucking on one of the hard candies they had used as poker chips with a strange look on his face once more. It was unlike him to not join in the fray, to use the opportunity to tease and mess with everyone. The fact he had not immediately insulted Iruma or messed with Yumeno was extremely strange for him. Instead, he was staring at the group, a pensive look on his face. Saihara wanted to go ask what was wrong but was interrupted by an announcement that there was another surprise for the group from Tojo.
Tojo looking extra resplendent in a grey and purple kimono with web-like designs went into the kitchen area and brought out two wooden boxes that were filled with homemade mochi. The class all looked eagerly in as she told them all to dig in. Saihara was never that fond of sweets but the matcha one he grabbed tasted delicious. Even Ouma seemed to be momentarily out of his weird trance since he was grabbing at the mochi and stuffing them in his mouth. Maybe he was worried for nothing after all.
Amami called out to the group that they should leave now so they don’t miss when it hit midnight and Akamatsu agreed, rushing everyone along. They grabbed hats, coats, and scarves and made their way out of the dorm. They all walked in a large group together to the shrine, talking and laughing as they went.
Saihara walked next to Akamatsu, feeling extra warm from being both full and the black wool jacket he had put on, “Thanks for doing this Kaede. I think everyone’s having fun.”
“You think? I’m so glad. I didn’t want it to feel like I was just forcing everyone to hang out or anything.” Akamatsu smiled brightly, beaming at the compliment. She had been an easy choice for the class rep but she always seemed to worry she was pushing the group too much despite that.
Saihara shook his head, pulling his scarf a little tighter around his neck, “Of course not… I think the fact we are graduating is making everyone feel a bit sentimental.”
“Yeah… it’s gonna be weird not seeing you all the time Shuichi.” Akamatsu responded, sounding a bit downcast.
“I’m pretty sure you will still see me all the time. You aren’t going to stop being my best friend right?” Saihara joked in return, feeling bad he had brought the mood down. Tonight wasn’t for being sad, not yet. Tears would be for later when they actually graduated.
“Of course not! If I leave you might start hiding behind hats again.” She tugged jokingly on the dark grey hand-knit beanie on his head, a gift from Tojo in last year's Secret Santa.
“Hey, this doesn’t count, it's cold!” They laughed and fell into a comfortable and familiar silence as they watched the scene around them. The shrine was crowded but not insanely packed so it made it easy enough to stay together as a class. Everyone was still talking and laughing and joking. That was of course besides Ouma once more. He saw Amami go over in an attempt to strike up a conversation but seemed quickly waved off by Ouma. The boy in the checkered scarf just floated off to the side of the group, his usually wild mop of hair covered by a purple and black ski cap.
Akamatsu looked over at him after following his line of sight, she sighed, “Ouma-kun seems strange tonight.” He looked quickly over at her in surprise before resuming observing Ouma.
Saihara frowned, “Yeah… it’s not like him to be all quiet and withdrawn. I figured he’d be teasing Iruma-san or messing with Kiibo all night.”
“I didn’t think he’d come honestly. Every time I asked he told me how stupid the idea was and that new years was an important night for committing crimes so I stopped bothering to try and get him to come but he came up to me a few days ago and told me he’d come to ‘my dumb little party thing’” Akamatsu chuckled, but he could hear the concern in her voice. She had less patience for Ouma’s antics than he did but she did always try to include him in her many attempts to bond the 16 of them.
Usually when Ouma said he wouldn’t do something he stuck by it. So it was strange he would agree to something like this last minute. Of course, he could have just been lying but with him, it was so hard to tell, “Hmm… wonder what changed his mind.”
Akamatsu pumped her fists, “You should go talk to him!” Her eyes gleaming with determination.
Saihara looked to the side, “Isn’t that more of a class rep’s job?”
She pursed her lips in thought, “He likes you better I think. I mean he is always calling you his beloved detective and all right?”
The teasing in her voice at the end of that made his cheeks feel hot in the cold air, “Uh… right…” Akamatsu just smiled. The kind of encouraging smile he knew too well before she walked over to talk to Harukawa. But he still wondered if he really should approach Ouma. What if he just blew him off like he had with Amami earlier?
But he does it anyway, making his way to the fringe part of the group where Ouma was currently standing and kicking at the snow on the ground, “Are you okay Ouma-kun?”
Ouma turned to him, his lips turning up slightly as he looked up at Saihara, “Huh, is my beloved detective spending his New Years profiling me? Is this finally the day you handcuff me and bring me in to question me on my many crimes?”
Saihara laughed quietly, at least that was normal enough for Ouma. “No… I was just worried that's all. You’ve been kind of quiet.”
“You don’t need to worry about me. I’m a Supreme Leader, after all, I have thousands of minions to do that job already.” Ouma boasted, throwing his arms behind his head.
“Right.” Saihara agreed. He knew better than to question it at this point. No matter how much digging he did on this supposed organization of his… he never got that far. He had a name at least, and a strong suspicion that the group was much smaller than Ouma claimed. They weren’t tied to any of the serious crimes that he would claim but he did not doubt their existence. But any more information than that… like Ouma was a complete mystery. And Saihara was pretty sure that was exactly how Ouma intended to keep it.
Ouma pulled a piece of pink mochi out of his pocket. Sierra assumed he must have pocketed some of the extras back at the dorm. He chewed on it while staring at him, his wide purple eyes looking like they were examining him. Ouma tapped a finger on his chin and asked, “You know how Momota-chan is a total wuss when it comes to ghosts and spooky stuff?”
“Uh yeah?” Saihara responded unsure of where this train of thought was going but it was not unusual for conversations with Ouma to veer into unexpected territory. Honestly, it was part of the reason he found him so interesting to talk to.
“Weeeeeelllllll... You know what I think is way scarier than stupid stuff like that?” Ouma questioned, playfully exaggerating his words with a crooked grin.
“What?” Saihara asked, still not quite seeing why he brought this up. Was all this quietness and staring off because of some sort of deep-seated fear? It seemed unlike Ouma to be so upfront about something so personal too. It took almost two years for the class to find out he was actually scared of bugs, he had lied so convincingly to Gonta and them all that they had no idea until that one awful day where Gonta’s dance flies swarmed the classroom and Ouma had screamed and screamed. The memory of that day made him shudder.
Ouma paused, staring intensely up at him stepping forward so that they are less than a foot apart, face devoid of any sort of emotion just like his voice when he finally answered soft enough for no one else to hear, “Time.”
Saihara tilted his head, suddenly feeling way too warm despite the chill in the winter air around them, “Like in general?”
Ouma giggled and pressed a finger to the detective's chest, “Silly Saihara-chan. Don’t you think time is the most precious thing we have? And yet it's so easy to waste and just slides on by without you even noticing. It's far more sneaky than I am, which is saying something.”
Saihara considered it looking down at the finger poking that danced across his chest as Ouma spoke. He’s not sure why Ouma was telling him this, but he wasn’t wrong. And he was pretty sure he wasn’t lying either, “You’re right.” He agreed.
Ouma sighed dramatically, stepping back with an exaggerated shrug, “Or maybe I’m just drunk and not making any sense.”
“Huh?” Saihara’s eyes widened. He should be used to the other boy's outlandish statements but couldn’t help but be taken by surprise as the other boy started to wobble about.
Ouma stumbled around dramatically, “All that sake and now I am going to pass out, catch me Saihara-chan!” Ouma spun in place and began to fall backwards towards Saihara. Instinct kicked in, he grabbed him by the top of his arms, stopping his fall. The short boy now almost horizontal, propped up only by his grasp on him.
“What sake? All I saw you drink was way too much amazake. Which has barely any alcohol in it. At worst you have a stomachache from all those sweets. You are lying aren’t you?” Ouma’s eyes opened and he tilted his head back, looking up at him from where he had caught him near his midsection, still propped up by his grasp on the tops of his arms. His dark hair fell back, and even upside down he could see the wide grin on his face. His usual scarf wrapped around his neck, nestled within a white puffy jacket. The moonlight hit his pale face and Saihara felt something pull in his chest as he looked down at Ouma. He looked… angelic in that lighting. A strange thought.
“You got me. Clever as always Saihara-chan.” The softness in Ouma’s voice made him smile in return. For a moment, they just remained in that strange position watching each other before Ouma pushed himself up off of Saihara's grip, turning to him, cheeks slightly brushed with pink as he posed with his arms outstretched as if he just performed some sort of gymnastics routine.
Saihara laughed and tried to ignore the weird swooping feeling in his gut, “I’m just glad to see you act more like your usual self.”
Ouma paused, blinking, “You are?”
“Of course I am… seeing you all quiet was weird,” Saihara admitted, looking at the ground.
“So... you like the way I am?” Ouma’s voice was oddly serious and he stepped towards Saihara. They were even closer than before now. But he didn’t mind it. It made him feel even warmer than the amazake and noodles.
“Of course I do.” Saihara breathed out in return. Ouma’s intense gaze putting some sort of strange spell on him. Like he was being drawn into those wide eyes and nothing else existed. He almost forgot anyone else was here until a voice snapped him out of that strange moment.
“Oi! Shuichi get over here, it's almost time. You too Ouma.” Momota called out, waving at the two of them. And the moment broke. The sounds of the other people in the shrine rushed back in his ears.
“Coming Kaito!” Saihara smiled and waved back, but Ouma only looked down, lips pursed as if deep in thought. But he joined the others at least, back to his weird sort of quietness as he stood on the opposite side of the group from him, nestled between Gonta and Kiibo but not acknowledging either of them.
Their class gathered around in a circle. Amami passed around paper cups of amazake that he had bought from a booth. Something to cheer in the new year together he told them. The countdown began and Saihara looked around at the smiling faces thinking about how thankful he was to have met them. How grateful he was to Hope's Peak for bringing them all together. His dearest friends. He exchanged a warm smile with Akamatsu. Momota gave him a thumbs up, his arm slung around Harukawa who also gave him one of her rare smiles. He continued to look around at the smiling faces of his friends.
10...9...8...7...6...5...
His eyes met Ouma’s across the circle and he paused. Ouma was looking directly at him. A small smile playing on his lips that was somehow as bright as the full moon above them and for some reason he couldn’t look away. But neither did Ouma, his purple eyes shining as they stayed trained right on his own. Locked in, the countdown continued, and he gripped on the warmth of the small cup in his hand.
4...3...2...1…
Everyone around them cheered and downed their amazake. But Shuichi was frozen in place, unable to pick up the conversations of his classmates around him. Still just glued to Ouma’s gaze who had also not drunk from his cup either. There was a wistful sort of look on his face. His lips turned up and he held his cup up, Saihara mimicked and they both drank the warm and sweet drink, still not breaking eye contact. Not until Akamatsu grabbed his arm and kissed him on the cheek exclaiming how perfect this all was. The bells of the shrine were chiming out but when he looked back he had lost sight of Ouma in the crowd. His classmates hugging and kissing and celebrating must have blocked out his view of the short boy somehow. He exchanged pleasantries with his classmates but he couldn’t quite shake that strange moment at midnight out of his head.
The others began walking back to the dorms, talking loudly about their plans for the rest of the break. Saihara held back for a moment, still not able to find Ouma’s white coat in the crowd. Where had he gone? He turned to catch up with Akamatsu and Amami who were in the back of the group. But he was quickly stopped before he could move.
Gloved fingers curled around his wrist, “Wait- Saihara-chan.” Ouma’s voice called out.
He looked back at the small figure holding onto him, “Huh. Ouma-kun?” How had he appeared out of nowhere like that?
The boy gave him a strange smile and pulled at his arm, clearly wanting him to go somewhere away from the others. He saw Akamatsu look back, pausing her conversation with Amami. She gave him a smile and a small wave of her gloved hand before turning and chatting once more. Saihara allowed Ouma to pull him and they took off. It wasn’t quite a run as they still had to trudge through the snow. But it was fast enough he found himself muttering apologies as they almost ran into several people who were also exiting the shrine for the night. The bells were still echoing in the night air.
When they reached a metal fence, Ouma let go of his arm to pull back some of the wire to make a hole big enough for them to climb through.
Saihara looked anxiously around, trying to see if anyone was looking at them, “Uh should we really--” Everyone seemed to be more concerned with what was going on with themselves than two boys standing by the fence but still...
Ouma frowned and bounced on his feet, “Don’t be such a baby Saihara-chan, c’mon!” Ouma crawled through and motioned at Saihara. He crawled through carefully, trying to not let his scarf or hat get stuck in the fencing. Once he made it through he didn’t even get a chance to catch his bearings before Ouma grabbed his wrist again and they took off again. There was a slight little path in the vegetation, so it must have been traversed before but it didn’t stop it from being tricky footing with the rocks, upturned roots, and lingering snow. Both of them trip a bit but the grip between them somehow keeps them upright. Ouma laughed every time they stumbled and ignored Saihara’s protests to slow down as they climbed up the skinny path.
Finally, Ouma comes to a stop, releasing his vice like grip on his wrist. Saihara took in their surroundings. The shrine was behind them, the path had led them to a high hill behind it. An overlook from which he could see the lights of the city shining below them. There was an ancient stone bench atop the hill. Ouma walked up to it and pushed the snow off of it and sat down patting the spot next to him.
Saihara took a seat in the empty spot looked out over the horizon, bursts of color lighting up the starry night sky, “You can see the fireworks downtown from here.” He commented, noticing how he could now see his breath on the night air. It didn’t feel much colder. Especially with the small bench making it so Ouma was basically pressed up next to him.
Ouma hummed appreciatively, feet swinging in front of him, “Mmmhmmm. Aren’t you glad you snuck back here with me now Saihara-chan?”
“Yeah.” Saihara muttered, watching as more fireworks lit up the sky, distant booms echoing out into the air, “But why didn’t you just tell me you wanted to stay longer?”
“Isn’t it better to be surprised?” He looked over at Ouma, who was watching the fireworks but he could still see that weird thoughtfulness clouding his expression.
“Sometimes.” He agreed as he turned back to watch the colorful explosions dance around in the moonlit sky.
Ouma spoke even quieter than before, an unfamiliar hesitancy in his voice, “So Saihara-chan wouldn’t mind if I told him something surprising? He can always just pretend he didn’t hear and say the fireworks were too loud. I guess I wouldn’t mind if he lied to spare my feelings even if Saihara-chan is a terrible liar.”
Saihara wondered why he was talking like that. Being so skittish. When had ever been that concerned about what other people thought? Ouma had always spoken his mind, consequences be damned. “Of course you can. And I would never do that.” Saihara wondered if Ouma thought of him as cruel enough to do such a thing. He hoped he didn’t.
He saw Ouma’s gloved hands grip down on his black pants. Staring intensely at his own lap. Was Ouma nervous? That seemed unlike him. He was always so confident like everything came easy to him. Like earlier when he was being all quiet, Saihara really did not know how to act.
Ouma took a deep breath in, Saihara could see the cloud of warm air as he exhaled before speaking in a soft tone, “I really like you Saihara-chan. I know that’s a pretty stupid thing to tell you when we only have three more months together but…” He looked up. Wide purple eyes reflecting the moonlight. A sight that instantly pulled his attention away from the colorful explosions on the horizon. “Someone told me I shouldn’t start a new year with any regrets so... ” Ouma mumbled, looking annoyed remembering whoever had given him that advice.
Saihara felt his heart beat faster in his chest, “Ouma-kun…”
Ouma smiled wryly at him before turning back to the fireworks, but Saihara did not think he was really paying them any sort of mind, “You don’t have to say anything. I get it. You don’t feel the same way. You can just walk on back now. I’ll go back on my own. Or I’ll freeze to death here. One or the other.” There was a strange edge to his tone as if holding something back.
Saihara bit his lip, looking down at the lingering snow on the ground, “Why do you think we only have three more months together?”
Ouma laughed mirthlessly, “Because that’s when we graduate dumb-dumb. Don’t tell me you forgot. It’s all your buddy Akamatsu-chan can seem to talk about.”
“But that doesn’t mean we won’t ever see each other again?” Saihara looked back over to the other boy.
Ouma turned back to him with a slight frown, “Doesn’t it? Why would we see each other after this? Do you really think we have all that much in common? Unless you plan to spend your life as a detective chasing me down for my crimes.” A coy grin crept upon his face, and his violet eyes sparkled in the moonlight, “Although I can’t say I would mind that.”
Saihara felt his cheeks grow hot in the cold air once more, “What?” He asked unable to process just what Ouma had meant by all that. Of course, he had looked into his organization, but that was hardly the same as chasing him down for these supposed crimes of his (that he was pretty sure were nothing more than lies).
Ouma’s tone changed back to something more playful and teasing, “You chasing me. I could become a world-renowned phantom thief and you can be the famous detective that chases me around every continent trying to capture me. We could have lots of fun together that way.” He looked up at Saihara, with a half-lidded expression that sent a pleasant chill up his spine. A phantom thief... That was something straight out of a book or tv show, not real life. Was that really the only way Ouma could see them spending time together after graduation? Although... he couldn't deny there was something rather intriguing about the idea. An honorable thief and a detective. It did sound interesting. But also unnecessarily over the top.
“That’s… weirdly specific. But you know we can just do the normal things together. Like, go out to eat, get coffee, play games. Like we always do.” Saihara responded, thinking fondly of the times they had spent together in the past few years. Although to be fair those outings had not always been normal. Ouma had a way of making even the most mundane activities seem like exciting adventures.
“But what if I wanna do more with you. Because I like you and all.” Ouma crooned in a low voice, causing the detective's insides to turn, a heat growing through his entire body, “You never really responded to my little confession you know Saihara-chan. But you didn’t leave either so I’m kind of getting mixed messages here.” Ouma somehow managed to move in closer, his face only inches away, the warmth of his breath dancing on his cold skin.
It could have been seconds or hours that they sat in that position before Saihara noticed a small little fleck of black on Ouma’s alabaster skin. “You have an eyelash on your cheek.” Ouma looked amused as Saihara pulled off his right glove and slowly lifted his finger to deftly sweep the tiny hair off his cheek. The contact of skin sent a tiny electric shock dancing up his arm and to his chest, where his heart beat faster and faster.
“There.” He held out the eyelash and Ouma gave him a bemused sort of look and then blew on it, sending it off somewhere into the night. Saihara wondered if he made a wish. What kind of wish would Ouma make?
Ouma’s lips drew a straight line as he looked imploringly at Saihara, “Why do you keep changing the subject Saihara-chan?”
Saihara paused. His chest fluttered, but it wasn’t unpleasant. He got it now he thought, that weird inclination to always get closer. To know more about the other boy. Saihara never really considered the possibility before Ouma’s confession but all the evidence just connected now. All those feelings were understandable now. All those little moments made clear in the light of this new knowledge. He had feelings for Kokichi Ouma. That was the only conclusion that made sense, a deduction that made his chest swell pleasantly.
Golden eyes watched Ouma carefully as he lifted his still ungloved hand and gently cupped his chin. That electric feeling from before back in full force. The other boy's eyes widened in response. Slowly, he moved closer. And closer. He paused for a moment but then closed the distance. Their lips finally met, soft and brief. His body flooded with warmth. And that confirmed it. He understood now what those strange feelings were all about. Everything made sense. Saihara smiled and felt the other set of lips under his own do so as well.
He pulled back slightly, and whispered, “I want to keep spending time with you after graduation Kokichi.” That level of familiarity felt strange but also so right.
The other boy whispered back, “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He agreed, nodding so that their hat-clad foreheads touch.
“So you do like me… Shuichi?” Ouma whispered back playful but Saihara could hear the hesitation before his name. The familiarity was awkward on his tongue as well but hearing it sent a pleasant buzz through his body.
Saihara laughed and teased in return, it was strange to see Ouma all hesitant but kind of nice as well, “Yeah, I think so.”
“Hmm, that’s not very assertive.” Ouma pouted, before lowering his voice, causing Saihara’s chest to tighten once more, “Kiss me again and prove you mean it."
He didn’t hesitate this time. And this time he lingered, lips moving together as their bodies leaned in together in the cool winter night. Ouma’s lips tasted sweet, like mochi and amazake. A taste he doesn’t think he’ll forget for a long time. He took his ungloved hand and ran his thumb against Ouma’s cheek as they deepened their kiss. Ouma’s hand had snaked around his back, pulling him in. He didn’t want it to end but they both slowly pull back, both boys grinning. Ouma’s lips shining pink in the light, matching the slight blush in his cheeks. Saihara felt another tug of affection in his chest, how had he never noticed? This feeling… would he have ever figured it out without Ouma?
“We should go back before it gets too cold,” Saihara commented, even if he really didn’t want to leave, there was no denying the temperature was steadily falling.
Ouma pouted, “Aww but I wanna become an ice statue with my beloved detective.” But he stood up nonetheless and Saihara immediately felt much colder without the heat of the other's body next to his own.
Saihara went to grab the glove he had removed earlier but Ouma quickly snatched it before he could get it. With a coy grin, he pulled off the glove on his own left hand and pocketed them both. He reached over and grabbed Saihara’s hand, interlacing their fingers and squeezing tight. He could feel the warmth of Ouma’s hand in the cool night, the skin on skin contact making his whole body buzz pleasantly. Ouma’s thumb ran over the back of his hand as they made their way back down the trail. Much slower this time. Ouma told all sorts of outlandish stories while Saihara just laughed and attempted to call him out on his lies. When they reached the dorms, they kissed once more and Saihara fell right onto his bed thinking about that sweet taste of mochi and amazake on Ouma’s lips. Even if he was a bit worried about ending his time as a student at Hopes Peak, he was excited about whatever was beginning now with him and Ouma. They had all the time in the world after all.
And when Ouma lock picked his way into his room before dawn and dragged him up to the rooftop to watch the sunrise Saihara didn’t mind it at all. It was the best hatsu-honide he’s ever experienced he thought as their lips met yet again, embracing while bathed in the pink-orange glow of the first sunrise of a new year. A new year full of both endings and beginnings, but most of all full of potential.