chasing the Cat (M X M)

Chapter 9

The following weeks at Sakura Elementary felt like a whirlwind. With the anniversary celebration fast approaching, Akira and Hiroshi found themselves collaborating more closely than ever. It was both exhilarating and terrifying for Akira. Each day brought new challenges, but with Hiroshi by his side, he was gradually learning to embrace the chaos.

Despite their progress, Akira's insecurities continued to bubble just beneath the surface. He often caught himself stealing glances at Hiroshi, who was tirelessly enthusiastic, his passion radiating in every interaction. Sometimes Akira would find himself smiling at Hiroshi's playful banter, but he quickly masked it with irritation, not wanting to reveal how much he enjoyed their time together.

"Hey, Akira!" Hiroshi called one afternoon as they sifted through stacks of student artwork for the branding project. "What do you think about this one?" He held up a colorful drawing of a giant sakura tree, its blossoms bursting with vibrant colors.

Akira's heart skipped a beat at the sight. "It's not bad," he replied, forcing a dismissive tone. "But it could use more... depth. Kids need to learn about shading."

Hiroshi laughed, a light, melodic sound that made Akira's cheeks flush. "Always the critic! But I think it captures the spirit of the school. You know, you could learn a thing or two about appreciating creativity."

"Creativity doesn't mean throwing around a bunch of colors and calling it art," Akira retorted, his voice sharper than he intended. But he couldn't hide the slight smile tugging at his lips.

"Wow, you really know how to kill a vibe, don't you?" Hiroshi teased, nudging Akira playfully. "But I'll keep it in mind next time I'm trying to impress you."

Akira's heart raced, and he quickly turned his gaze to the artwork, hiding his embarrassment. "Whatever. Just focus on the project. We have a deadline," he mumbled, trying to mask his flustered feelings.

As the days passed, Akira began to notice that Hiroshi wasn't just a colleague; he was becoming a significant part of his life. They shared countless inside jokes, late-night brainstorming sessions, and even a few moments of vulnerability. Each time they collaborated, Akira felt the walls he had built around his heart begin to crack.

But with that closeness came a new set of fears. What if he let Hiroshi in completely? What if he became dependent on him? Akira's mind was a battlefield, torn between wanting to be closer and the instinct to pull away.

One afternoon, as they finalized designs in the art room, Hiroshi looked up from his sketches, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Akira, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, if it's not about art styles," Akira replied, trying to sound dismissive but feeling a twinge of curiosity.

"Why do you keep putting up these walls?" Hiroshi asked, leaning in slightly. "You're talented and passionate, but sometimes it feels like you're afraid to let anyone see that."

Akira's heart raced, a wave of defensiveness washing over him. "I'm not putting up walls," he protested, crossing his arms. "I just know how to keep my work and personal life separate."

"But you don't have to," Hiroshi insisted, his voice earnest. "We're a team. I want to know the real you."

The air grew thick with tension, and Akira's breath hitched. "What if the real me isn't someone worth knowing?" he shot back, trying to keep the vulnerability at bay.

"That's not true!" Hiroshi replied, frustration lacing his tone. "You're incredible, Akira. Why can't you see that?"

"Maybe I don't want to be incredible! Maybe I just want to do my job without all this... emotional stuff!" Akira retorted, but inside, he felt the cracks in his facade deepening.

"Emotions are part of life, Akira!" Hiroshi said, his voice rising slightly. "If you keep pushing me away, you might regret it one day."

Akira turned away, unable to meet Hiroshi's gaze. "Regret? What do you know about regret?" His voice trembled, the weight of his past creeping back in.

"I know enough," Hiroshi replied, his tone softening. "I just want to help you. But you need to let me in."

With his heart pounding, Akira fought against the urge to break down. "I... I don't know how," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Then let's figure it out together," Hiroshi said, stepping closer, his warmth radiating like a beacon. "You don't have to do this alone."

In that moment, something shifted in Akira. The fear that had gripped him felt more manageable with Hiroshi by his side. But just as quickly as the resolve surged, doubt returned. "What if I mess everything up?" he whispered, the vulnerability making him feel exposed.

Hiroshi reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Akira's shoulder. "Then we'll fix it together. I'm not going anywhere."

Akira felt his heart flutter at the gesture, and he instinctively shrugged Hiroshi's hand off, trying to maintain his pride. "Tch, don't get all mushy on me," he said, forcing a nonchalant tone. "I can handle myself."

But Hiroshi just chuckled, his eyes shining with affection. "Yeah, right. You're tougher than you look, but you don't have to carry everything alone. Just remember, I'm here for you."

The sincerity in Hiroshi's words sent a jolt through Akira, and he looked away, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. "Whatever. Just focus on the project," he muttered, attempting to regain his composure.

Hiroshi grinned, his energy infectious. "Fine! Let's make this the best anniversary celebration ever!"

As they dove back into their work, Akira couldn't shake the feeling of warmth that Hiroshi's words had ignited. Despite his best efforts to keep his emotions in check, a flicker of hope ignited within him. Maybe, just maybe, he could let Hiroshi in a little more.

That night, as he lay in bed, Akira reflected on everything that had happened. The walls he had so carefully constructed felt less daunting now, and the thought of embracing the real him was both terrifying and exhilarating.

But as he drifted off to sleep, one lingering thought kept him awake: If he let Hiroshi in completely, would he be able to handle the potential pain of losing him?