{You Can Tell Me Anything} ~ Oumasai

Sorrow

*Ouma’s POV*

“Hello? Ouma-kun, are you listening?”

Ouma blinks a few time, bringing his mind back into focus. He looks up at the astronaut talking to him, the two speaking as they make their way to the dining hall. Nobody else appears to be around, all busy with their own activities for the evening.

“Of course I am,” he replies, smiling sweetly at Momota.

Momota sighs, rolling his eyes. “Fine, I'll say it again. When I asked about Shuuichi-kun while you guys were in my room, you told me that someone took his clothes while he was in the locker room, right?”

“Shuuichi-kun?” Ouma repeats his friend's name, slightly confused. “You call him by his given name?”

“Yeah,” Momata replies with a shrug. “I got his permission last night. We’re on a first name basis now.”

Ouma feels a pang of jealousy, something that he finds odd in himself. His whole body tenses, trying to make the strange feeling fade from his mind. Why am I jealous? Why should I be jealous? Why am I jealous? “Huh,” he replies intelligently, teeth together.

“Don’t change the topic on me though,” Momota says. “You said someone took Shuuichi-kun’s clothes, right?”

“Did I?” Ouma calls back to the memory, remembering his excuse that he had made for Saihara. After a second, he shrugs. “I guess I did.”

“But you were lying, weren't you?” Ouma stays silent, unsure of what to say, which surprises himself. Anything he says to try and cover up will hurt Saihara, which is something he'd never want to do. But what does he say to Momota? Another lie? The truth?

What is the truth?

“Listen, I'll tell you what I told Shuuichi-kun,” Momota says, slowing down his walking speed. “You don’t have to tell me what’s going on, and I won't interfere unless you guys are in danger.” Ouma feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns around and sees Momota with a determined smile on his face.  “Know that every burden is easier to carry when you have another shoulder to carry it on, okay?”

“Trust me, I know,” Ouma mutters. “I wish Saihara-chan knew that too.”

“Ah, so this stems from Shuuichi-kun,” Momota pieces together. “What's the problem?”

“I don't know!” Ouma storms, throwing his hands up. “He won’t tell me, and it’s infuriating!”

Momota doesn’t try to calm him down. Instead, he simply exhales, shaking his head. “You’re his friend, right?” Ouma nods. “Then don’t you think that you should respect his privacy?”

Ouma is about to retort, but ends up sighing, knowing well enough that Momota is right. “I know. Believe me, I know that I should, but… I just can’t help but be worried about him. I don’t want to see him like this.”

Momota doesn’t say anything for a moment. In that moment, his eyebrows raise in curiosity, and his eyes widen in realization. “Wait, do you like Shuuichi-kun?”

He gets laughter as a response. “That’s funny Momota-kun. No, I don’t like Saihara-chan that way.”

“I never asked if you liked him that way. I asked if you liked him.”

If he didn’t know any better, Ouma would think his heart has stopped. His blood runs cold. He can feel the nervous beads of sweat covering his forehead, and his hands tremble slightly. However, he doesn't allow himself to overreact. Instead, he flashes Momota a smile, crossing his shaky arms over his chest. “Yes, I do like him. How could I call him my friend if I didn't?”