Moonlight. 

 

Specifically, the bright sheen found at midnight; reflecting off a blanket of fresh snow. 

 

That was the color of Inumaki’s hair – or at least, what it reminded you of. 

 

The familiar tint you basked in on countless of sleepless nights, perched on the edge of the old engawa of your childhood home, just staring into oblivion. A stale, stagnant scenery where once, not so long ago, you would’ve given everything to escape. 

 

You had thought Tohoku’s mountains were something you wouldn’t long to see again, at least not anytime soon. Yet, as you watched Inumaki scramble between Nobara and Panda, in the middle of the school’s athletic field, no less, you were struck with a strange, intense, and sudden sort of yearning.

 

“You really can’t keep your eyes off him, can you?” Maki’s face suddenly pressed against the side of yours, startling you out of your thoughts. Lining her sight up with yours, she inevitably saw what you saw.  

 

“Maki!” You yelped. “Don’t just sneak up on me like that!” 

 

Maki threw her head back and barked in amusement.

 

“It’s your fault for spacing out,” she smirked. “You left your guard wide open.”  

 

You grumbled. 

 

“It’s cause Fushigurou’s late. I wouldn’t be idling if there were actually someone here to train.” 

 

“Hey, it’s rude to point fingers. Besides, even if Megumi were here, you’d still find some perverse way to ogle at Toge. Admit it.”

 

You bit the inside of your cheek and cursed silently. It was hard to argue with her when she was right. 

 

“It’s not perverse…” you mumbled; a lame attempt to defend your remaining dignity. 

 

However, your self-control was shit, and very soon, your gaze involuntarily wandered its way back to Inumaki’s figure. You hid a small smile as you watched him break another one of Nobara’s practice falls. It didn’t escape your notice that he was wearing short-sleeves today, a relatively rare sight. The smooth, pale skin of his forearms seemed to glow in the afternoon sun. You chewed on your thumb, absently wondering what it would feel like to be entangled in his limbs. 

 

“You’re drooling.” Maki’s blunt comment, once again, drew you back to reality. 

 

You quickly wiped at the corners of your mouth, only to find your fingers came away dry. 

 

“No, I’m not.” 

 

“You were five seconds away from it. Be grateful I caught you in time.” 

 

Maki always sounded cool, confident, and stoic. Given her exceptional prowess, both technical and physical, it was just slightly irritating how she was often able to back up what she said too. But if there was one thing you had learned from liking Inumaki, it was to place less emphasis on words. Which was exactly how you caught the subtle shift in Maki’s gaze. 

 

“Liar,” you griped. “Shut up, and quit teasing me.” 

 

“Tch.” Maki clicked her tongue. Rolling her eyes, she squatted down beside you on the concrete steps. 

 

“I don’t get it, [Name]. What do you see in him, anyway? The guy can only speak in onigiri terms, you know? How is that remotely attractive?”

 

You snapped your fingers. 

 

“But that’s exactly it. That’s the whole appeal. From the very start. Maybe it’s cause I grew up secluded in the mountains, so my world is unimaginably small. But… I don’t know. Toge… I just… I’ve never met anyone like him.”  

 

“Well, I guess, for one, he is a cursed speech user. Those aren’t all that common, even in the cursed-sorcerers’ world.” 

 

“See? Plus, wouldn’t you be intrigued too if a stranger’s first words to you was kelp?”

 

Maki chuckled.

 

“I can’t remember what Toge said to me when we first met, but I do remember thinking he was awfully short.”

 

You nudged her with your knees for that jab.

 

“Not everyone can be blessed with endless legs, Maki!” Your words suddenly conjured an image of Fushiguou’s towering height. “Actually, now that I think about it, maybe being tall just runs in your family.” 

 

She scoffed, dryly.

 

“Well, then I guess I should rejoice. At least there’s one thing I successfully inherited.”

 

You couldn’t miss the disdain in her voice. In hindsight, bringing up her family probably wasn’t the best idea. But still, you couldn’t resist the chance to get back at her for calling you perverted. 

 

“Nah, I think you inherited their shitty personality too,” you joked, swooping in to pinch her cheeks.

 

“Shut up!” Maki swatted your hands away before aiming a punch at your other shoulder. 

 

You grunted on impact and made a mental note to not rile Maki too much. Her punches really hurt. There was a moment of silence as you rubbed your sore arm.  

 

“You don’t need them,” you stated when the quiet stretched for too long. “You’ve got us.” 

 

“I know,” Maki sighed. “I just hate how even after all this time, they’re still somehow getting in my way.” 

 

You knew this was about the grade promotion. Skills-wise, Maki was already a grade-two sorcerer. But on paper, she was stuck as a grade-four, the lowest rank. The Zenin had shunned her for her lack of skills, and even now, as she proved them wrong, they unrelentingly found ways to shackle her, and all because of their useless pride.  

 

“It doesn’t matter what grade you are. As long as you kick ass, they can eat yours.” 

 

Maki laughed, loudly. 

 

“Hah! I like that!” She smirked. “Simple and true.”

 

“Like all good quotes,” you added, smartly. 

 

“I think I’ll print it on a T-shirt.” Maki gestured with both hands. “I’m thinking black, and then in block white: I kick ass, Zenin eats mine. Maybe throw some graphics in there too for some extra impact.” 

 

You chuckled. If she could make jokes like that, then it was safe to assume she wasn’t all too fazed… at least not right in this moment.  

 

“Credit me and it’s yours.” You winked.  

 

“Done.”

 

The two of you shook on it, before dissolving into snickers.

 

“I bet even the first years would buy them,” you said, staring into the field towards Nobara who was currently in hysterics, screaming murder about buying a new jersey.  

 

Maki grinned. “I’m making Fushigurou buy seven. That kid is in dire need of more clothes.” 

 

“Or rather, more colors,” you chorused. “I swear he only owns black.” 

 

“That can be arranged.” 

 

“Mustard leaf?”

 

Your heart skipped a beat at the sudden sound of Inumaki’s voice. All this talk about making merchandise, and you nearly forgot about the ache in your chest. Now, with Inumaki materializing so close, the weight came crashing back full force. 

 

“Toge!” you cried, hoping your loud assertion would mask your sudden loss of composure. “Maki and I have decided to make T-shirts for everyone!”

 

“Tuna Mayo.”

 

“We’re coming up with badass quotes. Want to help?”

 

“Salmon.” 

 

Toge whipped out his phone and hesitated for a minute. Not too long after, your text alert chimed. 

 

“I’ve got fillings for you,” you read, slowly, and then blushed bright red as the pun sank in.

 

“Toge…” you moaned as you tried in vain to cool your cheeks. How was he always managing to throw your guard? The stifling Tokyo heat only worsened your blush, so you buried your face in your knees with a groan. “That was too badass…”

 

“Let me see, let me see!” Maki leaned over your shoulder to confirm the text, squinting at the device in your outstretched hands. 

 

She hummed, intrigued.

 

“Toge, do you honestly mean that or are you just trying to be funny?” Maki asked. Then in a poison-sharpened tone, “Depending on how you answer, you might lose a limb or two, so I’d choose carefully.”  

 

Inumaki scowled. 

 

“Salmon roe.”

 

Maki frowned.

 

“What does that mean?” She looked towards you reflexively.  

 

For some reason, even though you were one of the last to join their group, only transferring in the third-term, you still understood Inumaki better than any of the second years. The only mystery as to why was in figuring out which came first—either you observed Inumaki so closely because you liked him or you liked him because you observed him so closely. Either way, you had never once failed to guess Inumaki’s intentions. 

 

Letting out a slow breath, you composed yourself the best you could. Clutching your courage close, you lifted your face.  

 

Inumaki stared back, unblinking, unwavering. You searched his violet hues. Spell-binding. And clear. Like amethyst. He wasn’t lying. It was hard to tear your gaze away from a look so captivatingly earnest; in truth, it left you disoriented, and more than a little breathless.

 

“He means it,” you whispered in obvious disbelief.

 

“Okay, Toge, say goodbye to your—wait… what?” Maki stopped in her advance. 

 

“He means it,” you said louder this time, wondering if decibel alone would be enough to convince Maki, much less yourself, of the truth.

 

“Oh.” Maki paused, processing. Then more powerfully, “OH!”

 

If her loud cry didn’t restart your suspended time, then the way she forcefully shook your shoulders did.

 

“That’s great, [Name]! Isn’t that great?! Now hurry. It’s your turn. Time for you to confess your undying love!” 

 

Inumaki’s gaze hadn’t left yours once, and you would rather let Maki rattle your brains out than risk looking away. There was magic in that stare, and only you and Inumaki were aware. 

 

Maki seemed to sense your hesitance. Then, finally reading the atmosphere, she dropped her grip on you, and cleared her throat. 

 

“I’…m going to see if either Panda or Nobara needs help. If not, there’s always Megumi’s head to hunt.” A pause. “And if that fails…” Another lapse. “I’ll just... go make cookies… or something…”   

 

Maki edged away from the two of you. As a hard-drilled perfectionist, she sucked at coming up with excuses, but her efforts were certainly endearing. You knew Maki was trying her best to be considerate. A notion that made your insides feel all gooey.  

 

“Maki, I love you,” you called before she was out of ear-shot. Your gaze never left Inumaki’s.

 

“No, you don’t,” she shot back, arm held high in a backwards wave. “You love Toge.” 

 

Her comment made your ears go scarlet, but you refused to look away. Her cackles disappeared down into the track field and the ensuing silence that settled over you and Inumaki made your heart race. 

 

“Since when?” you asked, finally. 

 

You were certain that this wasn’t the appropriate place to start. You should have just come right out and confessed, but your poor heart wasn’t ready to tell him yet. 

 

“Kelp.”

 

You didn’t know if it was a blessing or a curse, to be able to understand Inumaki so intuitively. Kelp. That was his first word to you. You couldn’t believe he remembered. 

 

You smiled.

 

“You had me at kelp too.”

 

His eyes crinkled. Although you couldn’t see his mouth, you knew he was grinning. 

 

“Why me?” You asked suddenly.

 

He frowned. This would be harder to convey with just ingredients. Inumaki was about to unlock his phone, but you stopped him with a gentle hand. 

 

You shook your head. Sentences were cheap anyway. 

 

“Not with words,” you breathed. “Show me.” 

 

Inumaki stared at you, transfixed. He wasn’t sure what you were asking of him. His eyes drifted to your lips. Soft, pink, inviting. He shook his head vigorously. No. That wasn’t right. It was what he wanted, but it wasn’t why it had to be you.  

 

It wasn’t until he saw you tugging uncomfortably at your ear, nervously awaiting his response, that the answer occurred to him. 

 

He reached for you, ever so slowly, ever so hesitantly, as if any sudden movement would cause you to shy and bolt. His fingers grazed your cheeks, gently tracing the curve of your jaw, before cupping your face firmly in his warm palms. The effect he had on you was instantaneous.  You melted into his touch. 

 

Inumaki pulled you towards him and pressed the side of your face into his chest. His fingers absently carded through your hair. Just as you were wondering if this was supposed to be some weird, awkward kind of hug, you heard it. Faint at first, until you concentrated, and the outside noises fell away. 

 

The chirping of cicadas from somewhere nearby, Nobara’s pained wailing from below, the drone of a passing plane from overhead, the wind-rustled leaves from all around—life’s symphony fizzled into white noise, drowned out instead by the melody of Inumaki’s heartbeat. It was steady and strong, if not just a little fast.  

 

The sound of his heart calmed you, and you pressed your ear deeper into his chest, wanting to hear more of his non-verbal truths. Inumaki wrapped his arms around you tighter, trapping you in his heat. You closed your eyes in content. So, this was what it felt like to be entangled in his limbs. 

 

You smiled. 

 

You heard him. 

 

You heard him loud and clear.

 

No one knew how you did it. How you were always able to tell what Inumaki was thinking. Even Inumaki was baffled sometimes by how well you understood him. In all his years, Inumaki had never met anyone who could read him like you did. For someone with such limited communication skills, Inumaki had always found it difficult to feel seen, let alone heard. But with you, it was like he didn’t even need to try. Even without words, you knew what he was saying. It may have been the way you read body language, but Inumaki knew it was more than that. Because body language could only convey so much. The rest was all you. The nuances, the shared memories, the raw instinct. You strung it all together, like magic. And you made him sing. Which was why it had to be you. 

 

You knew his heart—who he was at the core. So, of course, it couldn’t be anyone but you. 

 

“Toge…” you mumbled into his chest. 

 

His hum vibrated through your body. Your fingers curled around the thin fabric of his shirt, a dismal attempt to ground yourself. The deep, resounding rhythm of his pulse chased away the last of your fears. 

 

“I love you,” you whispered.

 

“Tuna mayo.”

 

You smiled. You didn’t have to know tuna mayo was his favourite filling to understand he loved you too. 

 

After all, only Inumaki had the power to make onigiri ingredients sound so soft.