The sky was a perfect shade of blue to match Asaba's mood. Some shounen-ai and some het.
"I won't leave you alone," they told Asaba, each in their individual ways. Miyazawa practically standing on her tip toes, trembling with emotion. Arima on the roof, quiet and steady, throwing an arm around his shoulders and holding him hard.
He knew they didn't want to leave him alone, that they don't mean to. He watched them from the rooftop where he used to sit with Arima, just being there, Arima's weedy but strong shoulders slumped back against his body. But Arima's down there now, in the courtyard, in the world, dark head bent over Miyazawa's reddish brown. He's laughing at something she says and she dances in response, spinning around on her toes like a little girl pretending to be a ballerina.
Asaba could walk down the stairs in the courtyard and they would be with him. Miyazawa would still laugh and Arima would roll his eyes, but he'd shift over to make room for Asaba on the bench.
It wouldn't be the same though, as watching them together from above. They're in their own soap bubble world, delicate but complete. No more fear, not of lies, not of each other, not of anything, and anyone with them had to be equally fearless. Asaba couldn't go to them because fear and pride are all that kept him laughing. He didn't want to shatter their bubble, not the one they've worked so hard to build.
He just watched from the outside, and didn't feel alone. He had girls, lots of them, keeping his apartment from being empty. (And what's a high school boy doing with his own apartment? they ask. What about his parents? But not too loud, because they like his looks and besides, he's Arima's best friend) He had good friends, the best. He's not alone.
From down below Arima noticed him watching and waved. The sun glinted off his black hair, making it shine. Arima is good at shining. Miyazawa followed Arima's gaze and grinned, big enough to see from way down there. She jumped up and down, waving and calling his name.
"Hey, Asaba! Come down and play with us!" she shouted, cupping her hands to her mouth when he pretended not to see her. Asaba just laughed and shook his head.
After a little while they gave up on him and went back to talking about their own special nothings. It's warm, sitting on the rooftop, basking in the sun and in their reflect warmth. A little cooler when they drifted back inside, probably to class since they're such good students. Asaba considered turning up to class too, but decided it wasn't worth the effort. He laid his head down on the concrete and closed his eyes.
He expected to have a nice nap, and then maybe see about class. Or an exercise in picking up some girls for later. He didn't expect to hear the roof stairs door swing up with a boisterous thump.
"Hey, Asapin, we seeeeeee you!" It was Miyazawa of course, laughing like a motor, tugging Arima by the hand. Arima had a put on look of bemused reluctance that doesn't fool Aspaba for a moment. They came here together.
"Shouldn't model students be in class?" Asaba asked cheerfully, rubbing his eyes and yawning like he'd been napping all along. "Not waking us Yankees from our sleep."
"Yankee this, you, if you don't start studying you'll never-" Arima begins the lecture Asaba knew he'd launch the moment school came up, because he did it every time. A lot like Asaba's dad, which was funny because he hated his dad and Arima... Arima he could never hate. Arima didn't get far into it at all, because Miyazawa turned back and pressed her hand into his upper arm. It didn't look hard, but Asaba could see the skin go white underneath.
"We've got a pass. We're working on something for the next culture fest," she said airly and Arima nodded, though he still looked a bit pale and rubbed his arm like it hurt.
"You don't think I'm going to help, do you?" Asaba asked, though he knew he would if they asked.
"You? No way," Miyazawa said. Her eyes sparkled with sun and pleasure.
"No? Well, should I get out of your way and let you use the space?" Asaba was already rising to his feet.
"No." That voice, darker and steadier, was Arima's, and so was the strong arm that held him still. "You shouldn't."
"You really shouldn't," Miyazawa said brightly, but the sparkle in her eyes was more like a dictitorial gleam, quite suited to Madam president of the student council. She sat down next to Asaba, limbs akimbo, and never mind her skirt, while Arima sat on his other side. Asaba's eyes widened a fraction. They both had exactly the same expression just now. Just a little amused and pleased with themselves and quite a lot determined.
Whatever it was they wanted, there was no way they weren't going to get it. Asaba knew when he was weak against someone.
"Okay? You caught me?" he offered, looking from one to the other and smiling his best teasing grin. "The amazing Asapin, stud of the school, is at your service, sir, madam."
Miyazawa just laughed and took his arm. "Well, good. That makes this easier."
Arima rolled his eyes, but he had his hand on Asaba's other arm. "Don't be a clown, we're trying to be serious."
"I'm always serious! I'm the most serious-"
"Hush, Asapin," Miyazawa said. "I'm talking. It's time we had a serious discussion. You, see, you seem to have misunderstood something."
Asaba blinked and shook his head. "Really? Me? But I'm the master of social cues."
Arima glared until he shut up. "Miyazawa's right. She and I have discussed this, and you have the wrong idea. You seem to think that when we said that we wouldn't leave you alone, that it was optional."
"What?" Asaba's mouth was hanging too far open to think of another word. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been in that situation.
"It's not optional," Miyazawa explained in a steady earnest voice, like her hand wasn't sliding up his arm. "We won't leave you."
"Um?" Asaba looked at Arima for clarification because at least he usually made sense. "What?"
Arima just gave him a dark little smile and his hand slid down where Miyazawa's went up. "And you don't get to leave us."
"Asapin. Shut up."
Asaba didn't know who said that at all. Because right now there were two sets of arms pushing him down onto the hard roof tiles. And two sets of lips grinning at him with mutual self satisfied accomplishment, before they kissed him, one at time, and then together.
It was awkward and a little messy with three, but Asaba didn't think he'd need to find a girl to make his apartment less lonely. Not today.
And the sky was a perfect shade of blue... to match Asaba's mood.