Chapter Text
The first thought you had when you met Komaeda was that his hair looked like vanilla ice cream. Like a swirl of soft serve in a paper cup, melting and pooling at the bottom with a bit of strawberry syrup.
You were too embarrassed to say it, of course. Who says things like that? Especially to someone you just met? You kept it to yourself, choosing not to think about your sudden craving for ice cream. It was just your sweet tooth rotting your brain, that’s it. That’s why you felt the need to look even closer.
Being the Ultimate Speedrunner, you took this vacation as an opportunity to slow down for once. All the practice and time and effort it took to grind out a world record wasn’t necessary here. Your cottage was fully decked out with some of your favorite games and consoles. Your bed was soft and comfortable, your fridge packed with snacks and energy drinks to keep you running all night long, but you spent very little time there. It was nice to finally make some friends for once, even though you had to apply sunblock like it was your religion.
It was the third day when you realized you had somehow failed at taking things slow.
Komaeda was one of your favorite people to hang out with. He was soft spoken and cheery, and he was willing to let you ramble on and on about some of your favorite clips and tricks you’d performed during runs. He leaned forward, like he was actually interested, and not simply humoring you like so many others. He even asked questions, how and why some of the tricks worked. It excited you more than it should have. Made your heart pound against your ribcage as you scrambled to explain, worried if you slowed down his interest would dissolve into thin air.
Of course, you always tried to give him some room to talk as well. It took a bit of coaxing, denying his claim that he had nothing interesting to say, but eventually he caved and talked about what he liked. He liked games, too, though he preferred games that told stories. He was more focused on the lore than the gameplay, the complete opposite of yourself. Good gameplay makes or breaks a game in your eyes, but you were content to disagree. He explained the story of one of his favorites, one about a child fighting monsters and trying to befriend the villain. You listened intently, making sure to ask questions as he’d done for you.
When he reached the end of the tale, he sighed to himself and closed his eyes. The sky was golden, the sand you both sat on warm and inviting. You watched, near awestruck as he tilted his head back and let the light wash over him. His Adam’s Apple bobbed in his throat, drawing your attention further down to his sharp collarbones. They jutted out beneath his pale skin. His chest rose and fell so calmly, so evenly, that if he weren’t still sitting up you might have thought he was asleep.
There was no way around it. He was very pretty, features reminding you of a porcelain doll. Eyes big and green, lips cute pink hue, a soft jawline, and his entire head surrounded in swirls of vanilla soft serve. He was patient and kind and clearly much smarter than he let on. He could talk endlessly about the themes of all his favorite books and movies and games, just like you. And that was what made you realize the extent of your failure, because somehow, some way, you had managed to speedrun developing a crush. How embarrassing.
You could handle fast-paced things with precise movement requirements. You could practice and practice and practice for hours on end without ever growing bored of it. You could practice until it felt strange to set down the controller. There was nothing stopping you from trying again. A built-in reset button lets you go back and make another attempt at any point you wanted to.
Nanami was the exact opposite of you, in some ways. She didn’t mind taking things slow in order to win, didn’t care for breaking the game in order to get a better score. You could appreciate a game on a first playthrough, but you were always looking for ways to speed things up, determining the fastest course of action to get from point A to point B. It was a part of your brain you couldn’t turn off, a fairy in your ear pointing out places where the collision might be wonky or where the physics seemed off. You took notes to return to these places later.
But in real life, there is no timer. There is no race against the clock, no clips or invisible walls to jump over. There was no trying again. If you wanted anything to come of this, you would have to act without the safety net of a reset button. No do-overs. Mess up once and you’re done. And that’s far too intimidating. You can’t bring yourself to do it. Not when so much is on the line. Making him hate you might shatter you like a pane of glass.
Koizumi picks up on your affections quickly. While everyone is chatting away at supper, sipping their drinks and having a bit of a chuckle, she pulls you aside with a stern, motherly look on her face. Standing in the dimly lit hallway to the restrooms, she lays into you.
“I’m not the best when it comes to boys, and even I know you like him.” She whispers to you, hand cupped around your ear. “I think he’s the only one left who’s oblivious to it. It’s been four days. How can you fall so hard after four days?”
Your hands raise to cover your face in shame, skin blazing hot under your palms. You stutter out nonsense, trying to form words, before settling on a pathetic whine. “I know. I know it’s weird, but-” You bite your lip hard to stop yourself. A million things are running through your head, some of which are so shameful you’d be okay with combusting right this very minute.
Rolling her eyes with a sigh, she shakes her head at you. “I don’t care what you do with your crushes, but be careful, alright? He seems a little weird.”
“I know.” You mutter, finally lowering your hands, but keeping your eyes on your shoes. Koizumi clears her throat. “Just make sure to tell me if he tries anything, okay?” She says it defiantly, like she’s a mother who disapproves of your new habits, but is reluctantly choosing to let you handle yourself.
You never believed in ‘love at first sight.’ It sounded stupid to you. Love was something that was supposed to take time. It was designed around conversations and clear communication at its best. Taking things too quickly, finding shortcuts and making assumptions would make it crumble and fall apart under its own weight.
That sounded like agony to you. Being forced to take things achingly slow so it wouldn’t all come crashing down. You figured you simply weren’t cut out for love, and that belief still held true.
So why?
Why now? Why not earlier, or later? Why with someone so different from yourself? Why did the universe choose to give you one of its hardest challenges when all you wanted was a chance to lay back and relax? It threw you into a game you didn’t know and couldn’t understand, and then it started the timer. You were being tested, pushed into perfection you couldn’t possibly achieve, and it was squeezing the breath from your lungs.
Hanamura, as much as you dislike him, saw your struggle, and through his gross attempts at flirtation he chose to give you advice while you stirred a pot for him. Carrots and potatoes swirled in the sweet-smelling broth, the motion hypnotizing. He sliced through a head of cabbage on a cutting board and said, “You know, I see you’re the type to move quickly. Maybe you’ll get over him just as fast as you fell.”
You hummed, staring into the whirlpool of flavor before you. It swirled and swirled, clockwise with the motion of your hand. The thing was, you didn’t necessarily want to rid these feelings from your body entirely. They made your heart race and your body melt at everything he did. So much as a glance your way suddenly made you self-conscious, but not in a bad way. You wanted to stick out. To have him notice you above all others.
“That’s… not it.” You finally say. “I don’t want to stop feeling this way, I just…”
You trail off, words failing you. Hanamura raises a brow like he doesn't understand. You don’t blame him.
Some runs do take hours to beat for just milliseconds of improvement. Inching closer and closer to taking a full minute off the clock, grinding for hours and clinging to nothing but a thin string of hope that this will be the run, don’t falter, keep going, don’t give up because you’ll never know until you do it.
“Well,” Hanamura sighs as he slides the cabbage off the board and into the pot. “If that’s the case, then I’d say you need to find an opening and seize it, however ya can.”
A fraction of a second, pixel-perfect movement. Things like that can be achieved through practice and luck, but on the first try? Was that possible?
“You’d be really good at dating if you weren’t so creepy.” You say, walking out of the kitchen. As you wander down the stairs, you feel something jingling in your pocket against the shells you’d gathered. Reaching inside, you pull out a small blue crystal, glinting in the sunlight and threatening to blind you. It reflects your own face back at you.
You stop by your cabin and toss it in a dresser drawer, then you promptly forget about it.
You find Komaeda at the beach that afternoon, shoes and socks left behind in the sand, pants rolled halfway up his shins so he can stand in the water. Maybe he hears you approach, or simply feels your eyes upon him, because he looks over his shoulder and spots you. He gives you a warm smile of greeting. Your face feels hot when he says your name, the sounds of the ocean and your racing heartbeat nearly driving you insane. Before you know it, you’ve pried your shoes and socks off and abandoned them next to his.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” He hums. “Sorry if it’s not up to your speed, though. I do tend to drag people down. If you’d like, I could get out of your hair.”
“No.” Your response comes out unnaturally quick, even for you. “It’s fine. I…” I don’t want you to go. I want to stand right here next to you until the timer stops. I want to know what your hands feel like, if they fit perfectly against mine. “I can do slow.”
A lie, so obvious it falls like lead from your lips, leaving indents in the sand. Slow wasn’t for you; neither were crushes or relationships or love.
But he laughs. “As expected of an Ultimate like yourself. Please forgive me for making assumptions like that.” Soft and raspy just like every sound he makes with those thick pink lips, always curled up slightly at the corners. You think if he ever frowned at you, you might die. Knowing something you said made him unhappy seemed like enough to make you evaporate on the spot.
“The rocks are pretty, aren’t they?” He asks, turning his head away from yours. In the distance behind him, the cliffside of dark stone lifts itself high above the water. The top is covered with grass, a tall tree with long, thick branches hanging over the edge.
“They’re tall.” You observe aloud, the need to fill the silence so it won’t grow awkward making you speak before you think. “Good for a rope swing, maybe.”
He laughs again and turns back to you. “A rope swing? Those can be fun, but I’m not so sure about putting one up so high…”
“Not like that. Look,” You step closer to him, hand resting on his arm as you point to the tree. “You climb that so you can tie a rope to one of its branches. Then you swing on the rope so you get far enough out to not hit the rocks. As long as you do it right, it works just fine.”
“Ah. I see what you mean now.” He presses his already thin lips into an even thinner line across his face. There’s anxiety in his expression. Must not be a big risk-taker. But he nods anyway. “I’m sure some of the others would like that, too. Perhaps you should invite them to go along with you? It may be a good way to collect hope shards.”
You hadn’t considered doing it with anyone except him, and part of you is disappointed he suggested that you should invite other people. Maybe you’ve scared him or creeped him out, ruining your chances already.
Find an opening and seize it.
“You should come with, too.” You smile, though it feels awkward and practiced. “You don’t have to jump if you don’t want to, but it would make me happy if you were there.” Admitting such a thing made your stomach twist with anxiety to the point where you almost felt compelled to take it all back. But he glanced at you, and for a fraction of a second you saw shock, disbelief, but nothing close to anything negative. Like he never imagined anyone being happy to see him, and this is his first time hearing the words.
But then it’s gone, replaced with laughter. Is it aimed at himself or at you?
“Ah, maybe Owari and Nidai? Mioda may enjoy it, as well.” He lists names, ignoring the mere suggestion, like he’s sure he imagined it somehow. You feel yourself deflating, the confidence you once felt to take a dangerous step forward vanishing completely. He keeps his eyes on the cliff. “Hinata, maybe? He seems like the type that’s up for anything, if in the right mood.”
“I’ll ask them.” Your voice comes out quiet. You try not to let your disappointment be clear in how you speak, but you’ve never been the best at hiding your feelings. “Thank you, Komaeda.”
“Ah, it’s no problem.” He turns his head to smile at you again. “As long as everyone has a good time, I’m happy.”
You invite the people he told you too. Owari, Nidai, and Mioda were all more than up for it, while Hinata seemed more hesitant to join, looking nervously over the edge at the rocks below. Mioda pats him on the back, startling him so badly he practically leaps away from the edge. She laughs. “Jeez, Hajime! It’s gonna be fine! As if Usami’s gonna let anything happen to us!”
“Th-that’s… can we really rely on her, though?” His brows are drawn together as he glances between the rest of you. Owari is already shimmying up the tree, rope in hand. Seeing there’s no winning this battle, Hinata seems to accept his role as the only vaguely responsible person in your gaggle of reckless teenagers. Owari gives the rope a harsh tug before sliding back down, dusting her hands off with a grin. “Who goes first?”
“You’re sure it’s safe?” Nidai asks, eyeing the knot at the base of an overhanging tree branch. “I’m all for fun, but I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”
“‘Course it’s safe! Whaddaya think, I’m gonna tie some weak-ass knot?!” You would think Owari was actually offended, if she wasn’t smiling the way she was. She gave him a punch in the arm and they both chuckled.
“Oh! Oh! Maybe Nidai should test it out!” Mioda bounces on her feet, arm waving around in the air to catch the other’s attention. Or to get some of her endless energy out. “He’s the biggest! If anyone is gonna break it, it’s him!”
That makes Nidai toss his head back and laugh, a loud, booming sound straight from his chest. “She’s right!” He howls. “Why didn’t I think of that?!”
So Nidai goes first, swinging out over the cliff edge, whooping loudly as he sails through the air and lands in the water below. A few seconds later he pops back up, grinning at everyone. Owari, unable to contain her excitement anymore, grabs hold of the rope and swings off it next, flipping in the air before splashing down. She emerges next to Nidai, her wet hair draping over her eyes for a moment before she flips it out of the way.
You’re up next. The rope is rough and scratchy against your palms. You give it a few tugs just to ease your racing heart, and it holds firm. You step back as far as you can, eyeing the edge. Your chest feels tight, both excitement and anxiety making you feel tense, wound up like a toy car and ready to fly off the deep end at any given moment. Finally, you will yourself to sprint forward and take the leap, your mouth dropping open into an ecstatic cry as you swing out over the vast blue expanse of the ocean, the golden evening sky filling your vision.
The rope slackens in your hand, and you let go. The wind whistles in your ears as you frantically draw your limbs tightly against your torso, inhaling a deep breath and squeezing your eyes shut just before you slam into the water. The world muffles and fades away as you drag your eyes open, flinching at the saltwater sting. It’s deep, but you can still see the rocks, and when you turn you can see two pairs of legs treading water nearby.
Kicking hard, you resurface, laughing and joining the other two.
Hinata goes next, but you think he only didn’t chicken out because Mioda pushed him. His cry as he fell though was less fear and more fun, though, and he was smiling when he resurfaced. Mioda came last, screaming the whole way down and spitting water at you when she was close enough. You splashed her back, so she latched onto you, dragging you under for a second before letting you go. You accidentally got Owari coming back up, and got her involved in the splash fight, which immediately made it three times as intense.
By the time you all climbed out of the water, the sun had long since set and it was well past the time you should probably have been in bed. You’d all missed the group suppertime, so you spent a bit of time in the kitchen preparing something for just the five of you. The laughter didn’t die out until you were all trudging exhaustedly into your cabins at well past midnight. You crawled into bed, but not before dropping four new crystals into your bedside table.
The sleep you had that night was so deep that when the morning announcement went off you felt as if you’d been raised from the dead. A quick shower helped wake you up, scrubbing the saltwater from your hair and getting shampoo in your eye. At breakfast, you sat with Mioda. Apparently Owari and Nidai went on a run first thing in the morning, and Hinata was usually one of the last to breakfast, so it was just you and her.
“So,” She starts through a mouthful of rice. “How’s your crush on little Nagi-wagi going?”
You choke on your food, slamming your fist into your chest to knock it loose as you cough. Hopefully you can pass off the blush spreading across your skin like wildfire as a result of the egg lodged in your windpipe and not her abrupt question.
When you finally calm your breathing, you find she’s still looking at you with a knowing smirk. You huff harshly through your nose. “It’s not.” You reply simply, stabbing your egg with your chopsticks before shoving it into your mouth.
“Aw, c’mon!” She whines, slapping your back and nearly making you choke again. “You can’t just sit back and expect it to happen! You gotta chase after him! He seems pretty dense, so you gotta make the first move here!”
“Th-there’s no moves to make, I swear!” You mumble, wishing you could curl into a ball and vanish. “Besides, I’m not really into all that stuff. I-I play games fast, that’s it. That’s kinda all I do.”
She rolls her eyes so hard you swear they might pop out of her skull and roll away. “Dude. You jumped off a cliff last night. That wasn’t a game.”
“But it was fast!” You protest, shoving the last of your food into your mouth and quickly rising from your seat, desperate to get away from this conversation. Mioda grabs your wrist before you can, though, forcing you to keep still. She’s laughing at you now, like you’re completely ridiculous. “Then think of it like a time trial or something! Time’s up at the end of the school trip!”
Time, time, time. There’s never enough of it and that’s an endless frustration for you. If you could, you would make each individual moment last forever so you could plan out each and every move in advance and get it right on the first try. You like games because most of the time they’re forgiving of your mistakes, but the moment the timer extends into reality you feel frozen. It pushes you to move faster, work harder, until you’re reduced to a pile of ash on the ground.
You spend that morning wandering about the pharmacy with Tsumiki as she prattles on and on excitedly about the contents of each bottle, its purpose, the proper dosage requirements, and other things you aren’t committing to memory. You nod along, never before seeing her so enthralled with something. She offers to give you a shot several times, which you decline. Then she suddenly stops, violet eyes blowing wide open as a look of utter terror suddenly consumes her.
“I-I’m s-s-so sorry!” She squeaks, raising her arms over her head like you’ve threatened to smack her. “I-I-I’ve been completely o-overtaking the conversation! I d-didn’t even realize! Please forgive meeee!” She’s on the verge of tears now, trembling in every limb, and for a moment you’re sure she’s given you whiplash with how quickly she’s changed the tone of the conversation. You shake your head. “No, no! It’s okay, Tsumiki! I like listening to you!”
She blinks, eyes still wide and hands still raised, but her posture relaxes a bit. “... R-really? You don’t think I’m… I-I’m an annoying, u-u-ugly pig?”
“No, Tsumiki.” You sigh. “Really, you’re alright. I don’t mind hearing you talk about the stuff you like.” She doesn’t even stutter at all when she gets really into it, like all her usual hesitance leaves her body and she’s exactly in her element. Like she was meant to be there the whole time. That’s how you feel when you’re in the middle of a run. Seeing her feel that same comfort is comforting to you in itself, in a weird way. It reminds you that nearly everyone here, though vastly different, has spent their entire life with one thing that they’ve dedicated themselves to.
Finally, although hesitant, she lowers her arms, staring shyly at the floor. “... Th-thank you.” She whispers meekly. “That m-means a lot to me.”
“Of course.” You shrug softly, and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence. Tsumiki is so shy and quiet, sometimes it’s hard to spot her in a crowded room, despite her being pretty tall for a girl. She’s very good at staying perfectly still, you’ve noticed. While most people tend to sway or shift their weight when standing in one place, Tsumiki is like a statue. Like every cell in her body has been trained to keep her completely motionless.
“U-um-” Her voice is soft when she speaks again, and you make sure to turn all your attention to her. She swallows audibly, big wet doe eyes glancing between you and the bottle she’s picked up off the shelf. She points at it with her opposite hand. “I-I’ve overhead that maybe… o-oh, I shouldn’t a-assume, but… I got the feeling that y-you… might like someone.”
You can feel your face getting warm already, eyes widening at the reality that you must be the most obvious person on planet fucking Earth, but Tsumiki is quick to continue. “I-i-it’s fine! Th-these feelings are completely normal! Nothing to be ashamed of!” Her voice is so high it nearly squeaks, but you calm a bit - enough to hear her out, at least.
“I-I just thought… you know, maybe this could h-help you?” She hands you the bottle. You can hear pills rattling around inside it as you turn it over to read the label. ‘Aphrodisiac’. She’s talking again the moment you process what that word means.
“J-just, think of it like a little l-love potion!” She chirps, seeming pleased with herself. “Y-you’ll have to do most of the work y-yourself, though. It w-won’t work if they don’t a-already like you. On that topic, d-do you have protection? It’s good to have, just in case.”
After the most embarrassing conversation you’ve ever had, you make your way home with a bag of shame and a new hope shard. You drop it into your bedside table. You find that despite the fact that you’ve made no effort to keep them organized, you instinctively know who each one came from. There are no visual distinctions, they feel no different in your hand, but you just know. You look at one and you know it’s Nidai’s, or Mioda’s, or Hanamura’s. How strange.
You spend that afternoon in your cottage, thinking. You had to do something about this feeling, because it was clearly distracting your classmates. If it was distracting them, then you would all be wasting time here collecting these stupid stones and not getting back home. Not escaping this eerily open yet confined space. A cage is a cage, no matter the size, and right now it’s got you cornered with some thoughts and feelings you aren’t ready to confront.
Granted, the slower things went, the more time you would have to really sit with these feelings. Get to know them, put words to them and hopefully get them handled - whatever that meant. You know that it’s a healthier option overall, but healthy nearly never means pleasant.
Continuing to ignore it wasn’t doing you any good. Something had to be done. You had to find a solution, a gap in the collision, a frame-perfect jump that would make this agonizing experience finally be over. There had to be a shortcut.
Your mind trails back to the bottle Tsumiki gave you. Her words echo in your skull. It won’t work unless he already likes you.
In the end, what you fear is rejection, right? So it’s simple. Easy. If he took these pills and they didn’t work, you had an answer. You could save yourself the embarrassment of a failed confession.
That did, however, leave your morals up in the air. Your plan was, essentially, to drug him. Or to at least attempt drugging him. It didn’t necessarily feel ethical. It did, however, feel strangely familiar. Like it was something you’d seen before and you already knew what to expect.
Ignoring this otherworldly sense of deja vu, you turn the bottle over in your hand. The pills rattle against the plastic. The lid comes off and you dump two into your hand. They look like any other pill, small and white. Completely unassuming.
You shake your head. This is a completely ridiculous idea. You drop the pills back into the bottle, twist the cap back on, and drop it into your bedside drawer to be forgotten about.