The birds chirped, sun glistening. Shuichi opened his eyes with a small groan; due to sweat, hair stuck to his face like barnacles on a whale. His vision was heavily blurred, and his eyelids refused to stay open. The blaring sound of an alarm clock slowly found its way through the mist of his hearing and finally, Shuichi jumped at the sound. The boy reached down, mashing the snooze button with a weak fist. He didn't have a class until later that day, so he could sleep for another hour or so. He smacked his lips, turned over to his side, then closed his eyes, snuggling and purring like a kitten into the warmth of the sheets.

Though, unfortunately for him, he heard a fist pound at his door. He groaned once more, slowly lifting himself out of bed. Shuichi trudged over to his door, unlocking it, and opening it with a deep frown.

Kokichi was there, standing with a big, bright grin that could light up one thousand rooms. "Good morning, Shumai~! Wanna come with me to the music ro—oh shit. You look homeless. . ." He started off chirpy, though as he got a good look at the other, his tone went to one of concern. Kokichi wasn't as immature as he was back in high school, and this was due to Shuichi (and sometimes Kaede) putting him in his place and pulling his head out of his ass. Though, both of them still loved the shorter's tricks and antics.

Shuichi gazed down at the short boy and smiled, as he was happy to see such a pretty face in the morning. "Yeah, I just woke up," the tall boy mumbled tiredly.

"I see. . . You smell like shit, plus you're soaked in sweat," Ouma stated honestly.

"I know, I know, I haven't taken a shower last night, or today. . . Speaking of shower, I'm going to take one right now, see you later, Koki—"

As Shuichi turned to go back into his room, he felt a hand grasp his wrist. He turned to see Ouma with an impatient expression.

"Shuichi, I was gonna ask if you wanted to come to the music room with me. . . I learned a new song, though it's only the instrumental." His voice sounded so serious yet there was such a playful flare to it.

"Oh, yeah. Wanna come in? I'll be quick."

"What's this? Shumai wants me to come into his room? I wonder what he hides in his desk drawer~," Kokichi thought aloud.

Shuichi sighed, "I don't have anything in my drawers, Kokichi. At least not like that."

"My, my, jumping to conclusions, are we?"

"Just shut up and come inside!"

The taller male pulled the other inside, closing the door with a slam. He sighed, turning around to see the short boy sprawled across his bed, face down. Shuichi gazed at Kokichi, taking note of his adorable lavender hoodie, which was super puffy—it looked amazing on him.

"Shumai, you're staring," Kokichi said, his voice muffled by the sheets.

"Geh! I—I'm taking my shower, now!" Shuichi stumbled and tripped over the clothes that had been littered across the floor, and finally, he crossed into the vicinity of his bathroom.

Once making sure Saihara had twisted the faucet and water began to loudly fall, Ouma leapt from the bed, skipping over to the navy-haired male's desk. A small black bag sat on the carpeted ground beside it. The short boy unzipped it, only to groan as there weren't anything that would peak his interest; he wanted to find something Shuichi might have hidden from him—Ouma was bored, that's all. Located within the bag was his laptop (which was no surprise) and some capless pens.

Ouma grumbled, zipping up and shoving the bag away (though not too violently, as laptops are expensive and Shuichi hadn't gotten a job yet). He moved to his desk drawers, stealthily sliding them open. He cringed at the squeaking of the wood of the drawer and desk rubbing against each other. He peered inside, smirking all the more smugly as he expected to find something interesting. Though, as he shuffled around through the pens and papers, sticky notes and photos—wait, photos?

Interest peaked, Kokichi pulled out the few photos found within the drawer.

He smiled.

The pictures were polaroids of him, Shuichi and Kaede during their years of high school. He grinned and chuckled at the sight of the blonde's short hair (she had decided to let her hair grow out during their final year, this picture was either around their first or second year). The first polaroid had been of the trio standing outside their high school, a toothy grin playing Ouma's lips, Shuichi's freakishly pale hand atop his head of orchid hair. Speaking of the male, he had a nervous smile, innocent golden eyes with no such mascara (he had such long and dark eyelashes that he hadn't needed any of the product, though he occasionally applied it). Kaede's short hair shimmered just as much as her beaming personality; her heather eyes were bright and cheerful, smile bubbly like a fluffy or curvy font.

The other photos were them at the mall, one of them consisting of Kaede being a weak baby, crying her eyes out like a four year old as she had been getting her ears pierced.

He looked through a little more of the pictures, then stashed them away deep in the drawer as found before.

Before he could reach for the second and last drawer, the sound of water falling against the shower floor ceased. Ouma stood swiftly, feeling rather dizzy as he rose too quickly. He sprinted to the male's bed and jumped onto the mattress, attempting to look as convincing as possible.

The door creaked open.

Shuichi stood there shirtless, his baggy sweatpants low on his waist. A short, white towel clung to his neck, navy hair sticking to his face, though the pointy strand of hair that lay atop his head still happened to stick up. He noticed Kokichi respect his privacy by looking away, which was nice—despite Ouma's flirty and dominant personality, he knew what made Shuichi truly uncomfortable. Though, at the same time, the tall boy wanted the other to stare at his body. . .to skim his fingers over the pale skin, to kiss it and admire it. Shuichi snapped out of his thoughts and sheepishly smiled at himself, and partly to the other that occupied the room with him.

He opened one of the drawers to his dresser, and began to rustle through his clothes. He eventually found a shirt, one of his band shirts from high school (Shuichi had the mishap of ordering a size too big for him—he liked the design anyways, so he decided to keep it. Now it perfectly fits him! Well, almost). He soon picked up a discarded hoodie that lay on the ground, which was a simple grey. He slipped it on, and soon enough, Shuichi poked the other on the shoulder, indicating that he could look.

Kokichi uncovered his eyes with a smirk, "man, Saihara-Chan, those gym visits really payed off! Though, you still look like a weak twink."

He was right. Shuichi's visits to the gym did pay off. Though, that second part was also correct, and the taller boy hated to admit it. He was slim, skinny, twinkish—but to his arms there was a bit of muscle that had been a bit visible to the eye if you looked hard enough. And that being said, was Kokichi staring at him the entire time?!

Shuichi seemed to choked on the air, as he had just realized, "Kokichi! Were you staring at me?!"

"Psssh, no, of course not! I would never give my beloved Shuichi bedroom eyes! No sir!" The short male looked to the side and beat his chest with a fist (he immediately regretted it, as he sputtered a cough).

The taller male only chuckled nervously.

"Anyways!" Kokichi started, "let's head off!" He then glided off the bed and leapt onto the other's back, "TO THE MUSIC ROOM, STEED!!" He smiled widely and pointed ahead, towards the front door.

Shuichi let out a strained whimper, "please, please quiet down. . .i'm going to get a noise complaint. . ."

"Don't mind that! NOW HEAD OFF!"

-

"I don't know, Tsumugi, do you think he will like me back?" Kaede looked into her mirror as she brushed her hair with a pink comb, all the while talking to a childhood friend, who of which was Tsumugi Shirogane. The blonde's phone lay on the counter, set on speaker.

"I think he may! Well, actually, I don't know because I haven't met him personally. . .but I'm sure it will work out! Maybe this will be like a romantic story between you two! Oh! That reminds me, there's this shoujo manga I found—"

"Sorry Tsumugi, but you're getting a bit off topic," Kaede declared kindly with a small chuckle.

"Oh, sorry about that. . ."

"It's fine! Don't worry about it, it's natural! But anyways, is there a way I could attract him or somehow get his attention?" The blonde stared into her own eyes, hoping that the blue-haired girl could come up with some idea, or ideas. She bit her lip.

"Well. . . Maybe try and be around him more often? I-I'm sorry, I'm too plain to know any of this!" The girl on the other line was clearly panicking.

"But Tsumugi, don't you have a whole shelve of romance manga? And also, you're not plain!!"

"Uhm, yes, but fiction is different than reality, most of the time," Shirogane explained with a shrill yet tender voice, "things tend to get. . .exaggerated."

"Right. . ."

The two girls talked for a while longer, and thereafter, Kaede walked down to the smallish living room and plopped down onto the couch, phone in hand. She had a piano class in around an hour—it shouldn't be long till she hand to leave. It was a rather large campus after all—one of the biggest in the country, hell, even the world. One of the richest, too. It took a lot of work and potential to get into this university; you had to have potential, good grades, and unfortunately, charm. The people who ran the university sought out greatness—no people with grades lower than an eighty-five could get in. Kaede barely got in—she had an eighty-six in her math class, but because she knew how to play the piano, and wonderfully, she had the luck to get in. From then on, she sought out to work harder than ever before.

The student got up from her comfy couch and skipped to the kitchen, making her way over to a cabinet, which had been occupied with many glasses and cups. She chose a small class cup and set it on the granite counter. Kaede grasped the handle to the fridge and pulled it open, grabbing a bottle of orange juice, pouring a glass soon after. She sat at the counter and gulped it down, loving the fine, refreshing taste.

Her mind drifted off to her conversation with Tsumugi that had conspired earlier. She hoped it would work out in the end. She wanted it to end up well for her.

But what if it didn't?

-

Shuichi and Kokichi finally made their way into the music room.

It was rather large; in the very center, there was a big, circular stage that had small steps swirl around it. Atop the stage was a big, beautiful grand piano. It was so gorgeous—it was fine and polished, looking as if it were just bought. Across the other side of the room, in a closed off area confined in glass was a studio room. This was where high tech equipment and microphones were located—basically a room stocked with auto tune. Across many walls of the main room were many instruments, ranging from mandolins, to ukuleles, to electric guitars. All of these instruments that lined the walls belonged to a student. Though, displayed on a smaller wall were very few instruments. Placed in the very middle was a sharp, checkered electric guitar. The strings were a neon purple, the strap attached the to instrument the same color.

Beneath it was a small plaque, in bold it labeled Kokichi Ouma.

It was quite obvious that the guitar was tailored to Kokichi's liking, and to be honest? It looked sick as hell; to Shuichi, at least. And certainly to Ouma. Said boy skipped over to his instrument and snatched it from the wall, slipping the strap over his head, letting the guitar fall snuggly against his body.

"That's. . .your guitar? It's the first time you've showed me. . ." Shuichi mumbled as he stared at the instrument.

"Yeah, I just got it not too long ago—apparently I was too good for them, so they put mine on the special wall," Kokichi explained.

"Ah, I see," the other replied. He skimmed the room with his vision, noticing a couple of people in the studio room that was all for auto tune. They seemed to be arguing. The two girls that had been arguing seemed to be Sayaka Maizono and a girl with long, green hair and purple eyes. She was apparently named Satou, at least that's what Shuichi heard. But, he simply didn't pay any mind to it as he turned his head to see his love sauntering to a separate room. The tall boy scampered behind him in a hurry.

In the room was a rectangular stage, steps located on either her side, leading up to the platform. Amongst the stage stood a huge (and expensive looking) set of drums. They were black and gold, which Shuichi silently approved of. Truly an emo at heart (as Ouma would say).

"My pal Mioda-San and I usually come here to practice," Kokichi stated as he plugged a cord into his guitar and a large speaker. The cord was long, so he could walk around the majority of the stage if he wanted to.

"That's nice, Kokichi," Shuichi replied with a small grin. He watched his crush plant his feet on the wooden planks of the stage. The orchid-haired boy stuck his tongue out as he began to tune his guitar, letting out an 'aha' as he succeeded. He strummed it, a loud wave of sound erupting. "Ah, isn't this going to cause a bunch of noise? It looks like people are coming in. . ." And indeed, it seemed as though a group of people were coming in, and they seemed to group around the large piano. Surprisingly, Kaede was nowhere to be found, though she had mentioned piano was taught at different times throughout the day.

"Don't worry, Shumai, the rooms are soundproof! So no worries! Or is that a lie~?"

"I say lie," Shuichi chuckled. Though, it was actually a truth, the male couldn't help but play around for once in his life.

Kokichi's face became hot, "I love it when you joke around like that," he said.

The taller boy felt the color pink creep on his cheeks, "I-is that so?"

The shorter regained his composure, "hmmm, I dunno! But anyways, I said I learned a new song on this hunk of junk, and I really want you to hear what I have."

Shuichi agreed, "Yeah, I would love to hear it!"

The little imp grinned with happiness pounding in his heart.

The tall male listened to his crush perform one of his favorite rock songs. The song he played gave him nostalgia to back in high school—he would listen to it with Kokichi in the car (Ouma would constantly raise the volume up to the point where the car shook, and Shuichi groaned and turned it back down), and they would sing it together, even though their voices were quite horrible. Kokichi was a guitarist, not a singer; and Shuichi was a (potential) author, not a fucking pop sensation.

Back in present day, Shuichi was gazing in awe. His mouth was agape as he watched Kokichi's fingers run across the strings.

The short boy soon completed the song and turned to face his best friend with an expectant (yet hopeful) expression.

"That. . .was amazing," Shuichi mouthed out.

Kokichi chuckled at the other's flabbergasted look. "Wanna try?" He asked.

"Oh! Uh—no, I'm alright—I'll probably find some way to break it, and I don't want to risk tha—"

"Oh come on, Shumai! Pleaseeeee! Let loose!"

The navy-haired boy thought for a moment. "Fine," he mumbled, though there was a lingering feeling of nervousness tainting him. He approached the shorter and said boy smiled, slipping under the neon purple strap. The male plopped the instrument into the other's hands.

"Break it and I'll kill you."

"What?! But you just said—"

"Neeheehee! Oh, Saihara-Chan, you're so gullible. . ." The short boy walked up to the taller, "I love that about you."

Shuichi looked away as red dusted across his cheeks, "Uh, really? Is that a lie?"

"Nope," Ouma smiled, "anyways! Let's go get some coffee! You've seen enough!"

"Huh? What about teaching me ho—"

"Shhhhhh, let's go," Ouma whispered as he grabbed the other's arm and began to pull him out of the room and building (after putting the instrument back, of course).

After walking through the middle of campus again, the boys arrived at the coffee shop. The employees recognized them, as they frequently visited, especially Shuichi. They took a seat, sitting in a comfortable silence.

"Hey, Saihara-Chan, remember that movie Kayayday mentioned?"

"Uh, yeah, why?"

"Well, are we still planning to do that?"

"I'm not sure. I don't have much cash on me, but I'm currently job hunting, so hopefully I'll soon have some money. . .what about you? How's job hunting going?" Shuichi asked.

"Eh, applying for jobs are boring. . . Was thinkin' about working as a barista or somethin'," the shorter replied as he flipped through the menu a waitress had given to him.

"Good for you, Kokichi," Shuichi encouraged with politeness.

"Thanks."

Silence filled the air once more, and eventually the waitress came back and took their orders. The two boys received their goods and thanked the woman kindly. They sipped on their frappes, and nibbled on flavorful croissants. Today was a good day, Kokichi thought with a smile.

Shuichi thought the very same.

Both boys stood outside of Shuichi's dorm, wishing the other goodbye.

"I had a load of fun," Ouma started, "but that was a lie! I hated hanging out with you, Shu! Neeheehee!"

The tall male chuckled, but felt his heart sting a bit, "Yeah. . .haha. We should do this more often," he said.

"Agreed," Ouma concluded.

They ended their conversation then and there, entering their dorm rooms with a bright smile plastered across their faces.

What was to come of the next week, Shuichi wondered.