YOU, ME, US [ okkotsu yuuta x reader ]

17: BOMBSHELL

"[Name]," Aimi says, her voice muffled by the phone, "you gotta go on a blind double date with me. I got a ticket for Tokyo."

"So, you're telling me you got a ticket to come to Tokyo for a man."

"Yes, you're not special. I need me a fine Tokyo man."

You shudder. "Good luck."

"Just tag along with me! It won't take long. If you don't like the guy, we can ditch them together!"

"What if you like your guy?"

"That's impossible. I get icked out too quickly."

"Oh, so this was doomed from the start?" you reply, unamused.

"What's more romantic than doomed love?"

You think of Orpheus, of Romeo and, most poignantly, of Yuta.

"Nothing."

"That's right!" she proclaims excitedly, a mischievous laugh following her words.

"So, what d'ya say?" Aimi asks, and you can see her now: the mischievous grin on her face, the curl of her cherry-red lips. She's wild and untamed, a being that's restrained by nothing other than the price of her favorite luxury products and the mortal desire to purchase everything that's discounted.

"Okay," you reply, giving in. When it comes to Aimi, you can't do anything but give.

"Good. I already had your date ready, anyway."

"What?"

Before you can even begin to comprehend the illusion of free choice, Maki's voice slices through the air, accompanied by a violent whack on the back of your head. Confused and concussed, you glance up. Your phone parts from your ear and the obnoxious sound of Aimi's music blasts from the other end, revealing her heinous taste to the world.

"[Name]! We're heading to the training grounds," Maki says, tilting her head towards Panda and Toge, who are standing stiffly to the side.

We? you think.

"It's Friday, Friday, gotta get down on Fri—"

"No thanks," you reply while trying to lower your phone's volume. Unfortunately for you, Aimi's American music transcends sound barriers.

"Training grounds? Just say 'gym class.' Your classmates are so dramatic, [Name]," Aimi states, and the crisp, unhealthy sound of sizzling interrupts the silence that ensues afterwards.

Does she have to straighten her hair right now? you wonder, noticing the way Maki glowers at you. In order to protect your peace, you look away.

"You, me, training grounds. Now," Maki says, voice dropping to a deathly tone.

"Us?" you echo, watching your life flash before your eyes. "Now?"

"Death doesn't discriminate, between the sinners and the sai—"

Unfortunately for you, Aimi's American music is louder than your own voice.

You hang up the call, feigning ignorance to the looks of disbelief from your classmates. While Panda stares at you with concern for your wellbeing, Toge stares at you incredulously, questioning how your friend has such versatile music taste.

"Maki-san," a new voice starts, and your gaze is redirected towards Yuta. He stumbles into the room with purple stains scarring his off-white uniform, his face haggard and hair unkempt.

"Woah, what happened?" you ask, genuinely concerned. Yuta's dark eyes grow wide when you acknowledge him, his complexion regaining color while his lips break out into a lopsided, bashful grin.