By Your Side (ioriku)

3

"He's my friend."

Iori couldn't believe it. He was, without a doubt, a full-on liar now.

Even the other boy seems surprised, so much so that he doesn't reply, at least not immediately. Instead, he gives Iori an indecipherable look and proceeds to pull out another chair before taking a seat.

"His friend?" The boy says as if questioning the statement. But he sighs, "You should've said so sooner. I assumed you were a strange kid or an intruder of some sort."

Iori laughs dryly. He was both.

The other boy continues, "It's surprising, really. Riku doesn't have many, or any friends for that matter."

"Really?" Iori says, even though this was the second time he was hearing this.

"Well, for obvious reasons," the boy says, tipping his head in Riku's direction. But, the reasons weren't exactly obvious. At least not to Iori who knew nothing of Riku aside from random pieces of information that he shouldn't even know in the first place.

Iori nods in false understanding.

The boy sighs, continuing on, "Anyway, I'm Riku's brother. His older brother. Twins, in case you hadn't realized." Iori really hadn't realized, not that he'd admit it. "I'm sure he's told you that much."

"He has." He hasn't.

"I figured," he says with a breathy laugh that turns into a light-hearted smile. "I'm... Nanase Tenn," he introduces himself but seems hesitant, as if he didn't have the right to say his own name. "So, I'm curious, how did you two meet?"

Iori is taken aback by the question. It was bound to be asked and yet he didn't have an answer prepared.

"It's a long story," Iori insists, pressing his lips together. But it wasn't a long story at all, there wasn't a story to begin with, the two had never even met.

"We have time," Tenn says, tone lowered in suspicion. The smile that was once there has vanished, returning to the menacing glare that made Iori want to run away and never come back.

Iori stands back, swings his bag over his shoulder, and stares down at the imaginary watch on his wrist in faint surprise.

"Oh, would you look at the time? I'm running late," Iori says in a panicked frenzy. He gets up from his seat, albeit stiffly, heading toward the door. He turns back once more to meet eyes with Tenn. "It was nice meeting you."

But even that was a lie.

❧

The scent of pure vanilla extract and cupcakes fresh out of the oven linger in the Izumi household. A typical home with family portraits lining the white walls, house plants that sat in the corners of each room, shelves of books, but more importantly, the grand kitchen.

Iori warily steps inside the house, tiptoeing inside in an attempt to make as little noise as possible. But the loud click of the door closing gave him away.

"Iori," an upset voice suddenly asserts from the kitchen. "Why didn't you tell me you'd be out this late?"

It's Mitsuki, his older brother, who doesn't sound happy in the slightest.

"Nii-san, are you feeling better? How's your throat? You haven't been singing, have you?" Iori asks, dodging the question with other unrelated questions as he steps into the kitchen. He takes a seat at the marble-topped kitchen island, settling himself in.