I hate how you're perfect // Amasai

I hate how you're perfect

He hated it.

Shuichi Saihara hated it.

He hated how perfect Rantaro Amami was.

The way his piercings and adjuncts would shine a certain way in the sunlight, the way his lime ocular perceivers would dart around and keep solid contact with individuals. The way his hair was an impeccable green throughout the roots, the way he had the astonishing, trendy fashion sense.

Shuichi felt envy, he wasn't sure why he was so envious. Jealousy of how many girls he magnetizes? Surely not.

The blue-haired boy had always labeled the other as a friend, despite the pristine jealousy he would feel when the man got the slightest spite of attention. Saihara had never been disposed to genuinely do anything about it, he was just a shy, frangible boy.

As of that moment, all that could be aurally perceived was his pen tapping against the desk; waiting for time to pass. Notes weren't often taken during classes, his mind was always clouded with the same phrenic conceptions and never the valuable ones.

Thoughts were ceased as a familiar, warm hand was placed onto Shuichi's shoulder. Inaudibly sighing, the bluenette faced the subject of his mind. The gorgeous yet exasperating, and all too well-known smile was portrayed.

"Hey, Saihara. You seem pretty out of it. Are you okay?" Rantaro queried, it agitated the other for no reason. He simply just despised how the ambulating caring personality was even trying to converse.

"I'm fine, thank you." Yeah, Shuichi was doing just fine afore he came along. A suspicious yet caring nod was observed as a replication, the hand which had been reposing on his shoulder gradually slipping away.

"Are you sure?"

"Yep."

"Alright..." That was all that Rantaro verbally expressed before jogging off, limpidly realizing he wasn't going to be able to get the truth out of Saihara anytime soon. The more diminutive male felt relieved, conclusively having that feeling of a pile of rocks fall of his shoulders. He still felt slightly guilty, however.

Time passed, lunch approaching, and the previous almost butterfly-like feelings eventually fading.

In this moment, the classroom was basically empty. Shuichi hunched over his desk, overwhelmed with stress as his friend took a lean against the wall nearby. Saihara had been explaining for the last few minutes his entire situation, hoping to get some words of advice out of his friend: Korekiyo Shinguji.

"So let me get this straight, you hate Rantaro because he's perfect?" Korekiyo practically snickered, regaled by the other's obvious incoherence. "Sounds like a crush to me." He sighed, crossing his arms as he spoke.

"I don't have a crush on him!" Shuichi was practically melting in his arms, almost ripping his hair out with a frustrated tone. He never genuinely sat down to think of the possibility of having a crush on the male he despised so much, it could be something to consider.

"You're thinking about it though, aren't you?" Korekiyo teased, just playing around but still spiking up some more frustration from the smaller.

"Whatever," Shuichi spoke, however, his words were muffled by his cotton attire. A pat on the back and a little: "Think about it." was all that commenced before Shinguji disappeared out of the almost forsook classroom.

And that's exactly what Shuichi did. He thought about it, maybe a bit too intensely.

---

"He won't stop avoiding me." Rantaro huffed, his strawberry blonde acquaintance listening to every speech.

"Confront him, be a man!" Miu Iruma cheered on, oblivious to the fact that Shuichi really was not the one for confrontation.

"I don't want to scare him off, silly." The lime-eyed male explained, already knowing what he was capable of.

"But, that could work, in terms of him telling me what the hell is going on."

Iruma pondered for a minute, gasping suddenly and the same, childish gleam sparking.
"Wait until you hear what I heard in the corridor!" Full attention was set onto her, Amami almost wobbling over the table to listen in.

"I heard the guy with the mask and lover boy talking! Saihara has a crush on you, he kept denying it but whoever he was in the room with had some really good points. I couldn't even believe what I was hearing!" Miu squealed, swinging her legs in a childish manner. The male nodded slowly, digesting what he was hearing.

"Don't you like him already?"

"Yeah, I do. I could use this to my advantage." Rantaro wandered out of the room, a firm grip on the door frame as the plan began to form. Miu whistling him on to go and 'get his man'.

---

A few weeks had passed, Amami constantly attempting to capture his attention, failing abruptly every chance he got. Although, the light-eyed male had come to the conclusion that he most likely did have some sort of feelings for Rantaro.

He wanted to ask or even be asked to brunch, dinner, coffee- whatever. Saihara knew he had most likely messed up any chance of even floating the question above his head. Their compatibility was six feet under; at least, that's what most would think.

The mysterious boy trotted down the hallways, avoiding any glances or just people in general. He was met with the same dilemma each and every day, the same person always wanting to converse with him.

"Hey! Saihara!"

"..."

"Saihara!"

"..."

"Shuichi."

"Wha-" The use of his first name surely got his attention, he determinately decided to face towards the greenette that he was attempting so hard to avoid. To his surprise, Rantaro was a literal INCH away from him.

"Woah!" Shuichi flinched backward, not being able to get too far before being held into place by the same familiar, warm hand.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" Amami's face and tone of voice practically screamed that he was actually concerned and probably even worried. The blue-haired individual avoided even glancing at the other, gazing everywhere but him.

"I haven't." What a lie, an obvious one. A lie that the taller picked up on almost immediately, lightning speed. Colliding with the locker behind him, arms harshly locking him into place.

Shuichi had never seen such aggressiveness; "A little birdy told me a thing or two." A passive-aggressive smile was painted onto the accessorized male, a million thoughts began to float. Korekiyo snitched? Surely he wouldn't.

"And no, it wasn't Shinguji. You just need to keep your voice down."

He continued, "You hate me because you think I'm perfect?"

Shuichi nodded timidly, unsure of what to do in a situation like this. The nicest guy he had met was being one of the nastiest. The arms acting like jail bars were suddenly removed, the tension being cleared and an apologetic sigh escaping from Rantaro.

"Sorry, that was out of line. I didn't mean to be so aggressive." He chuckled lightly, the sweat beads that had formed on Saihara's hairline disappearing. He hummed and stood up straight, finally fixing his posture.

"No, I'm sorry for hating you over such a stupid, obnoxious reason." Shuichi felt the urge to fix whatever had been going on, most likely out of fear or... something else.

The bluenette continued speaking, not letting the other slip in a word. "If you'd let me take you out to dinner or something to make it up to you, I'd appreciate that."

"Of course, I've been actually meaning to ask you the same thing."