The Way of the Fanboy (Male Reader x Shikimori)

God's Cold Fire

Exams were in a week. Some students crammed for the test, as it slowly approached them—dreams, passions, ideals, and responsibilities of multiple people—all intersected at a single number, that could determine a person's future.

But Y/n never gave a thought to such things. All his efforts only sought to impress. He refused to sleep well, eat well, or live well.

Shuu and Kyuu were the first to notice this. They brought it up a few times, but Y/n would only shrug it off, with no answer or assurance.

"You think Y/n is okay?" Shuu asked Kyou.

Kyou, Shuu and Yui were all scrutinizing their textbook and notes in class. 

"I don't know," she admitted after a sigh.

She paused for a second wondering if she should say her thoughts. "You know, I used to like Y/n," she exclaimed foolishly. 

"Huh?" Shuu's jaw dropped. "WHAT?"

Kyou hushed him quickly. "That was before!" she explained.

"That's something!" Shuu laughed. "Why'd you like him?"

"I don't know. He just had a cool style when we first met him." 

"That's true. So you don't like him anymore?"

"Nope! He's annoyed by me, and I can tell," she maintained a hard smile.

"He's annoyed by everyone, it's not you," Shuu lightened his tone.

"I guess, but..." Kyou blinked hard and rubbed her eye. "But..."

"...You don't need to finish that. I know."

"Yeah," she gulped down her feelings. "Yeah... thanks."

Kyou regained her zeal shortly, and changed the topic, "anyways, I don't even know that much about Y/n. Where's he from again?"

"I dunno," Shuu replied.

Kyuu gave an outraged look at Shuu. "Are you stupid?" she asked. 

And Shuu's mouth fell open as if he were trying to process a good answer, but he only looked stupider. "You're his best friend, and you don't even know where he's from?" she said.

"Uh..."

"Do you even know his birthdate?" 

"..."

"Shuu!"

"Hey, it's not my fault! Y/n is just really casual with me, and I never feel the need to talk about personal things with him!"

"What do you talk about then?"

"Jokes, school stuff, women, manga, career paths just stuff like that. We used to mess around the town a lot, but now we kinda just... stopped talking. I dunno, it just seemed so natural for Y/n... so I let it happen."

Kyou pressed her fist against her cheek, and rested her elbows on the desk, trying to ponder something. But, she gave up. "What an enigma," she concluded looking out at the sky.

_____

Y/n had taken an absent day from school, claiming that he was sick. Perhaps he was ill in a way. He sat at his desk crouched over piles of worksheets, past tests, and notes. Somehow, his room became even messier than it already was. 

"Well at least I don't think of Shikimori all the time now," he would reassure himself.

He kept rereading the same formulas and vocab he had skimmed over a thousand times. "Amygdala... enzymes, ribose, lactase... asymptotes, quadratics, unit circle... moles, electromagnetic spectrum, NMR," he would mutter under his breath as he scanned the different topics all at once.

Y/n kept repeating and rinsing until his voice was monotonous and hollow. "I'm so tired... so tired..." he slowly closed his eyes. "...Why did I decide to study?... To win against Izumi?... So stupid."

Similar to Y/n, Shikimori was also forcing herself to pore over her notes. Her room was filled with light hues and tiny pieces of furniture, along with a sliding door at the front of the room, which Shikimori would occasionally use to sneak out of the house.

"Shikimori, are you studying?" her mother, Miyabi, asked from outside the room's door.

Miyabi tried to ask it in a soothing tone, but the question retained its dread. "Yes..." she took off her glasses and rubbed your eye.

"Don't push yourself," she said. "...but don't take it easy either."

Her attempts at assurance were vague and pretentious, so Miyabi resigned. 

"I wonder what's Izumi up to," Shikimori thought to herself. 

She checked her phone, but there was no message from him. "Why isn't he responding?"

_____

Test day passed by, and there was suddenly a bitter cold in the city. Y/n received his report card and checked his ranking in the school—#9.

Y/n let out a long sigh. In the end, he couldn't beat Izumi. "Izumi probably got first..." he muttered.

But that wasn't the case. Izumi, in fact, did not even get in the top ten rankings. He didn't spend any time preparing for the exams.

Yui was the first to see his metamorphosis. She was loitering around outside school when she saw the butterfly. His hair was dry and unruly, and its familiar purple tint faded into a dark plum. His physique was bolder, as his shoulder span and neck stretched out intimidatingly, and his hands had grown rough with callus.

"Izumi?" Yui was dumbfounded.

Despite his altered appearance, Yui could recognize a hint of his kindness as he languidly smiled at her.

"Hey," he replied