Chapter Text
It goes like this:
Teruhashi, breathless, traps him on the school rooftop during one of their breaks.
“S-So, um, ah, if it’s not too much to ask…” She fidgets, sneaking glances at him. Then, she clasps her hands together, pleading, “Please pretend to be my boyfriend!”
I’m so embarrassed, I could die on the spot. Stupid brother! Why, of all people, is it Saiki-kun?!
Saiki’s answer is simple. “Ask someone else.”
But nothing in the world is that easy because her shoulders droop, the energy draining from her body, and she shakes her head.
“It has to be you.”
Teruhashi takes a deep breath before jumping into a long-winded explanation.
Saiki watches the events pan out as she talks him through an unprompted flashback.
“My parents have been traveling around Europe for the past few years, but they’re back home for the week. And my brother has been unhelpfully updating them on my life, and for some reason, he just kept going on about you and how you’ve been such a bad influence on me, and he just made me so mad when he talked about you like that, and it kind of just… sort of… came out… that you were my boyfriend.”
Teruhashi says the last part in a hurry, avoiding his eyes. Her hands are wrapped around the hem of her skirt, balling fistfuls of fabric as she rocks back and forth on her heels.
What a pain.
“And now my parents are curious about what kind of person captured the heart of their daughter… I-I mean, not that you captured my heart or anything, but they just think so, and it’s all Makoto’s fault!”
That’s right. It’s his fault. So why does he have to be dragged into this?
Now I’ve said too much. I didn’t mean to vent to Saiki-kun, especially since I’m asking him for a favor. I shouldn’t have said anything at all! Why did I think this was going to work?
But Teruhashi genuinely feels bad about it, and only because Saiki’s recently come to realize that friends do nice things for other friends, even when said friend is harboring a crush on him, and in no way fake-dating said friend with a crush on him will lead anywhere good, he starts to feel a little bad, too. Having a conscious really sucks, sometimes.
“U-Um, once they’re back in Europe, we can break up like it never even happened! It’s just for one night… will you please think about it, Saiki-kun?”
Her puppy-dog eyes do not work on him.
Unfortunately, they work on God.
The number one law in this universe states that whatever Teruhashi Kokomi wants, she gets.
—
And then:
“Kuu-chan, you’re going on a date?!”
“Kusuo? You? Dating?!”
“It’s not a date.”
It’s a date.
But as much as Saiki wants to convince them otherwise, his parents are already losing themselves to their delusions, so it’s practically a useless fight.
He’s only telling them because they’re the type to not eat dinner without the whole family present, and he doesn’t want his mom to worry about him. Lying about it will only backfire on him in the end, anyway. God hates him like that.
“So, I’m going now,” he says, and then stresses, “Don’t wait up for me.”
They are definitely going to be waiting for him.
“Our Kusuo is growing up so fast,” his father blubbers through tears and snot and miscellaneous liquids, reaching his arms out. It’s kind of gross, really, and Saiki dodges his hug.
“Oh, but you can’t just wear that!” his mother says, gasping.
Saiki looks down at his outfit: a sweater over a button-up shirt and pants. He plans on wearing a jacket in case it gets cold out. Plain and simple, just how he likes it.
But it’s his mom, and she’s a different type of insistent, already holding up the house phone and punching in numbers. “I’m going to ask Kokomi-chan what her favorite animal is!”
Something akin to what regular people call ‘fear’ surges through his body.
Before he can put a stop to it, his father steps up.
“Wait!” He takes the phone away from her, holding it tightly against his chest while warding her away.
Saiki lets out a sigh of relief. Sometimes his father is reliable.
His dad brings up the phone to his ear, punching in numbers at a faster pace, his face reddening at the thought of getting to talk to Teruhashi. “I’ll call.”
“No.”
Saiki pulls the phone out of his father’s hands using telekinesis, and promptly makes it combust in a controlled explosion. The remains crumble to ashes at his feet.
“Kusuo! Our telephone!”
Good grief. He makes a mental note to restore it back to normal when he gets back from Teruhashi’s later tonight. But right now, that phone is the devil.
His mom pays no mind to the burnt telephone, humming to herself as she rummages around her sewing station.
“Hmm,” she says as she pulls out several patterned fabrics from the drawer, her eyes twinkling, “I wonder if she likes cats or dogs more?”
He imagines himself wearing a dog-print cardigan for his dinner with Teruhashi’s family.
Actually, that might make her hate him. He would hate him.
Saiki considers it for a second.
He looks to his father for his opinion.
His father, of course, avoids eye contact and starts whistling, in the process of sweeping the debris into one neat pile on the floor for Saiki to fix later.
You know I can’t go against your Mama when it makes her so happy. You should just wear it, Kusuo.
But then he thinks about Makoto seeing him wear a dog-print cardigan, a smug look on his face as he goes, “You shitty four-eyes, using my information about Kokomi for your own good, huh?” or whatever else his perverted, twisted mind can come up with. He kind of wants to strangle him, imagination or not.
So, Saiki does what any normal teenager would do in this situation.
He teleports away.
“Kuu-chan!”
“Kusuo!”
—
They’re outside her house, only at Teruhashi’s insistence, busying themselves with last-minute preparations for his meeting with her family.
“You don’t have to do this, you know,” she says, trying to hide the fact she’s the one making the fuss, her thoughts more jumbled than usual around him.
Saiki knows this very well.
The thought crossed his mind several times since she asked him. And again, and again, and again.
Toritsuka, Akechi, or even Aiura could’ve taken his place if he bribed them enough. Well, he wouldn’t have to bribe Toritsuka to go on a date, but he would have to bribe him to play nice. He wasn’t sure Akechi could play the silent act for the whole night, so that idea was a bust. And he didn’t exactly trust Aiura to be in the same room as Teruhashi unless absolutely necessary.
Anyone else would’ve told someone about it, too. Teruhashi made it explicitly clear that no one could find out, and this is one of the rare times where they’re on the same page. If word got out that Teruhashi Kokomi’s looking for someone to play her fake boyfriend, the future where World War III happens may become a reality.
That’s why he’s doing this.
For mankind.
That, and she promised him sweets after this is all over. He’s a simple man.
Besides, the thought of having to listen to her brother gloat about how Saiki didn’t show up to such an important date, so obviously Makoto’s the only one who’s worthy of Teruhashi’s love and attention, pisses him off. It’s just an added bonus that by helping Teruhashi, he gets the satisfaction of wiping that stupid, overconfident grin off Makoto’s face.
“You didn’t give me much of a choice,” he tells her.
Teruhashi looks down at her feet, her voice bashful. “Thank you for doing this, Saiki-kun.”
It’s still a little embarrassing that I had to ask him, but he agreed, so… I mean, isn’t this good for him? He gets a chance to date me, even if it’s only pretend. I’ll definitely get him to say “oh!” tonight.
She’s staring at him, now, well into his personal bubble. For some reason, it makes him a little self-conscious, and he tries to widen the gap between them, leaning backward.
Should I have made him wear a tux ahead of time? Or told him to bring flowers? I know he has contacts, too.
And then her face flushes red, a soft smile playing on her lips. Well, it doesn’t matter. Saiki-kun’s the best when he’s like this.
Saiki swallows.
Something about this situation reads as dangerous to him. Warning bells are definitely going off somewhere. Or maybe that’s just Teruhashi.
Ah, but his hair. It’s messy.
Teruhashi starts fixing his hair, concentrated as she combs through it with her fingers. She’s careful to avoid his hairpins, focusing on tucking loose strands into place behind his ears. When the tips of her fingers lightly brush against his skin, he holds back the urge to shiver. He’s not used to people touching him like this.
But he can’t really blame her, either, because even she doesn’t know she’s doing it. Her mind is elsewhere. Everything needs to be perfect.
Saiki reaches out to grab onto her wrist, gently pulling it away from his hair.
Teruhashi’s usually more aware than this. She must be more nervous than he thought.
She jerks backward, eyes widening in realization as she squeaks out a small, “I—oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, Saiki-kun, I just—”
Wait. Is he holding my hand? This counts as holding my hand, right? Is he going to say “oh” next?!
Saiki doesn’t understand how she jumps from holding hands to saying “oh!”, but he loosens his hold on her wrist and interlaces his fingers with hers anyway. Not because he wants to, but there are more pressing matters.
“We have an audience.”
He redirects her attention to the nuisance watching them from the window.
Makoto’s banging his fist on the windowpane, and Saiki hears him crying out through the wall, his angry thoughts already reaching his ears. He can tell it’s taking all of Makoto’s self-control to not burst through the door and take Teruhashi away from him, and he guesses it’s partially her doing, like she put him on a leash or something.
Stay down, boy.
Teruhashi glares in the direction of the window, though Makoto definitely doesn’t see it as a glare, way too excited about his sister looking in his direction.
She clicks her tongue, turning back to Saiki.
“You read the manual, right?” she whispers, almost conspiratorial.
Right.
The manual.
Teruhashi really goes to the extremes with everything she does.
She scripted out their entire dinner, complete with conversational flow-charts and an FAQ section. Or, that’s what she told him when she tried passing it to him in class earlier, but she was cut off by the sudden crowd of people swarming around her desk for their morning “oh!”’s. Saiki managed to slip it into his desk, but with the extra attention on him, who knows who could’ve seen?
For safety purposes, he burned it before anyone could find it in his desk.
Unfortunately, that also means Saiki never got the chance to read it.
Well, it’s something Teruhashi doesn’t need to know about. He can just use his telepathy to get information from her, anyway.
He nods stiffly.
“Makoto, what are you doing?” An unfamiliar voice comes through the door. “Aren’t you going to let our guest in?”
Teruhashi stumbles into place next to him, gripping his hand tightly.
The door opens, and Saiki blinks to adjust to the added brightness. Someone in the likeness of Makoto, though older with darker hair, stands in the doorway. It must be Teruhashi’s father.
“Kokomi-chan, there you are,” her mother, Saiki assumes, says, poking her head through the doorway. Even with the short timespan before his X-ray vision triggers, he can tell that they’re undoubtedly a beautiful family.
“Mom, dad. This is Saiki-kun,” Teruhashi says, and almost a little too giddy, “my boyfriend.”
I said it! I really said it!
Her mother purses her lips, gives him a quick once-over. Saiki narrows his eyes.
Well, he might as well be civil for now before he puts his plan into action. Saiki bows, letting Teruhashi handle all the conversation.
“It’s nice to meet you, Saiki-san,” her mother says, finally, a bright smile on her face. “It’s cold outside, you two. Come on in.”
He glances at Teruhashi, watching her talk animatedly to her parents before they’re ushered inside.
With how excited she is, there’s no telling that Teruhashi actually plans on ending this fake relationship once her parents leave Japan. That’s right, the true reason Saiki’s here is to make sure that at all costs, they break up tonight.
—
The Teruhashi residence is as classy as he remembers. It’s not on the Saiko Conglomerate level of rich, but nice enough to wonder if a place like this truly belongs in Hidariwakibara-cho. He’s been here twice, once by himself and another time with the rest of their group, so it’s nothing shocking, but after she’s been hanging around him and the others for years at this point, it’s easy to forget how influential she really is.
The one difference is the new memorabilia and keepsakes posted around the living room, evidence of her parents’ travels.
“Impressed, four-eyes?” Makoto asks, slinging an arm around his shoulder and ruffling his hair as if getting payback for Teruhashi fixing it for him.
Saiki sends the most unimpressed look in his direction.
“He’s been here before,” Teruhashi says instead, pulling Saiki away from her brother and toward the dining room. If he were also a child, this would be the part where he sticks his tongue out at Makoto when no one else is looking. He’s only tempted for a second.
When they reach the dinner table, Teruhashi offers the chair next to her. With his X-ray vision, he sees the whoopee cushion resting on the seat, hidden beneath the table covers.
He turns his attention toward Makoto, whose thoughts are overwhelmingly cartoony. I bet he won’t see this coming. How dare he think he can just go and steal Kokomi away like that without me doing anything about it?
How original. Which of his TV sitcoms did he get this idea from?
Of course, Saiki saw this coming.
In fact, it’s only the start of Makoto’s Wild Ride, having already heard all of his plans the moment he teleported near Teruhashi’s house.
He waits for Makoto to sit down first, fingers twitching at his side as he carefully moves the whoopee cushion from one seat to another. The flush of embarrassment on Makoto’s face when the room fills with a loud, exaggerated noise is worth it.
The rest of his family is just as unimpressed.
“Makoto! Where are your manners?”
“T-That wasn’t me! Look, it was this!” Makoto plucks the whoopee cushion from under him, waving it around. It’s a little pathetic, really. “Kokomi, don’t look at me like that!”
Teruhashi frowns. “Why is there a whoopee cushion there, anyway?”
Satisfied with the change in development, Saiki takes his seat.
“I hope you don’t mind Western food,” her mother announces when she returns from the kitchen, setting up an arrangement of dishes on the table, plentiful and fancy and not even an attempt as modest. Almost ridiculously so.
Which leads to Saiki’s next problem.
Too many utensils.
He squints at the assortment of knives and forks and spoons, wondering which one to pick up first. He tries for one of the forks.
Teruhashi is staring at his intensely, her thoughts guiding his choice, like a game of hot-or-cold.
So, it’s not the forks. His hand hovers over the spoons, then.
The right-most spoon! Yes! I’m glad he read my guide. I can’t believe he’s so dedicated to his role… hehe, maybe he was excited for tonight.
That was close. Saiki swirls the spoon around in his soup dish, taking note to pay closer attention to Teruhashi’s thoughts for the rest of the night if he wants to make it out in one piece. With how serious her family is taking dinner so far, all the way down to the candlelit three-course meal, he needs to play cautiously. He wants a break-up, not a jail sentence.
He knows that Makoto’s pranks are far from over when he picks up his cup, immediately reading Makoto’s mind. Apparently, Makoto went through the effort to drill a hole into his cup. A classic gag.
Saiki wants to roll his eyes. Seriously, doesn’t this guy know that he needs to be winning before he can boast about it?
He holds the cup in his hands, and theoretically, he can just use his restoration powers to set the cup’s lifespan back by one day. But, thinking about it carefully, the hole in the glass only deteriorates its value by less than 10%. And what are the chances that every single person at the table has the same cup from the same set?
Makoto sputters, water spilling all over his nice dress shirt.
“Your shirt!” Their mother fusses, handing him a towel to wipe himself off. “How clumsy of you. Go and get changed, Makoto.”
He grumbles a reply, scowling at Saiki before he stalks upstairs. Stupid, dumb, ugly four-eyes.
Maybe he should be more thoughtful about using his powers so blatantly, but he shrugs it off, knowing fully well that Makoto’s not sharp enough to put two and two together. Saiki’s just glad he doesn’t have to stare at his perverted face all night long.
He’s ready to dig back into his meal when he’s interrupted by her father. “So, how did you and Kokomi meet?”
Ah. The couple history questions. Of course, it makes sense for them to ask, only Saiki doesn’t know the ‘right’ answer. He glances at Teruhashi.
“Dad, I thought I told you this,” she jumps in. “We have class together, but we didn’t really start talking until we bumped into each other on my birthday.”
Teruhashi handles the talking from there on, having studied from her manual. Allegedly, he fell in love with her at first sight and continued courting her until she said yes, and they’ve been a secret couple at school since then.
Her parents nod along, but he can hear the hesitation in their thoughts. Saiki-san doesn’t seem like the romantic type. And it’s strange that he hasn’t said anything all night. Does he speak?
At around the halfway point of their convoluted backstory, Makoto comes back down, dressed in another top, and his presence only makes it more embarrassing to sit through. Saiki’s not so sure how much more of his “romantic conquests” he can stand to listen to.
It seems like Makoto shares the same feeling, because he clears his throat loudly, interrupting the flow of conversation.
“Can you pass the salt, four-ey—” Teruhashi shoots her brother a glare, and he gulps. “Saiki.”
Makoto stabs a fork through one of his potatoes, waving it around in the air to emphasize his point. He knows that Makoto plans to accidentally knock the saltshaker onto Saiki’s plate. Well, he can humor him for the save.
Saiki reaches over and hands the saltshaker over. Makoto takes it from him without so much as a “thank you”, sprinkling salt onto his potatoes while loosening the cap. When he sets it back down, he makes to hit it with his hand, a smirk on his face. With quick use of Saiki’s telekinesis, the saltshaker wobbles unsteadily, ultimately tipping toward Makoto’s plate instead.
It empties entirely onto his food.
His father doesn’t even look up from his plate before he says, “Makoto, please stop playing with your food.”
Makoto huffs, taking a sip from his cup, only to make another scene when half of the contents pour down the front of his body.
Now, that’s his fault for forgetting his own prank. That should stop him from messing around for the rest of the night.
The rest of the dinner goes by smoothly, and Saiki continues with the perfect boyfriend role, silently eating his food and nodding whenever Teruhashi prompts him to. It’s admirable, really, how much work she puts into her craft if she’s still playing along even at home.
“So, Saiki-san, you’re a third-year now, correct? What are you thinking of doing after high school?”
A direct question towards him.
Well, it can’t be helped. He should say something now, right? Maybe it’s time to put his own plan into action.
“Studying,” Saiki says, watching for a reaction.
This is the first thing he’s done to pique her mother’s interest. “Do you have any universities in mind?”
Maybe he’s some sort of genius?
Like a shining light, Saiki finds an opening in her mother’s thoughts, and he grabs onto it. He’ll be the plain, average, straight-to-the-point boyfriend they don’t want him to be.
“An ordinary college.”
“I… see…” she says, “How are your grades, anyway?”
“Average.”
Her dad clears his throat. “And… and what about after university?”
“Probably live with my parents.”
Oh, so that’s it. Living with his parents means he lives comfortably at home, right? “How is their income?”
“So-so.”
Hook, line, and sinker.
The disappointment on her parents’ faces is clear. Does he have any idea who he’s dating?
“Kokomi-chan,” her mother says, changing her target, though she gives Saiki a sidelong glance as if she wants to remind him of something. “You told us last time you were planning on going to World-Class University. How are your preparations for the entrance exam?”
“Oh, um…” Teruhashi looks at Saiki, pushing her food around on her plate. “I was actually thinking, maybe, um, Saiki’s choice university has some good literature programs.”
Seriously? Saiki remembers the time in their second year when they had to submit their career plans to their counselors and how she copied his list, but he didn’t realize she was actually considering it. Teruhashi’s level of commitment is on another level. He’s… kind of impressed.
Her mother blinks. “Is that so?”
They’re starting to crack now.
Saiki hides a satisfied smile behind his glass of water, listening to their thoughts dissolve into even worse impressions of him. Oh, well. Teruhashi is the perfect, pretty daughter, and someone like him doesn’t belong in her world. This is a good wake-up call for all of them.
“Well, if everyone’s finished eating, I’ll go and get dessert ready.” Her mother sends her father a look, tilting her head toward the kitchen rather conspicuously.
Supposedly getting the message, her father excuses himself from the table, and they leave to the kitchen, ready to discuss their thoughts about the night.
—
Taking refuge in the bathroom, Saiki leans against the closed door, arms crossed. Things aren’t going too well back there.
To clarify, he means going well for Teruhashi.
Things are going just as planned on his end. Now’s the best time to leave if any. Rather, the best-case scenario was to leave after dessert, but he’ll take what he can get. He just needs to take advantage of her parents’ bad opinion of him and leave quietly; it’ll be the final nail in the coffin for their relationship.
Sitting next to Teruhashi in class will be awkward from now on, but it’s for the best. She’s the one who asked him to be her fake date, after all.
Saiki considers his options. Maybe he can fake a stomach-ache? Or a family emergency? Anything will work.
Making up his mind, he reaches for the doorknob, only to stop when he hears his name mentioned in passing through the muddle of thoughts.
“—feel the same about Saiki-san—"
“—bring it up to Kokomi-chan—”
“—consider coming back with us—"
It seems like they made some sort of decision when he left to use the bathroom.
What’s happening downstairs? Either way, scraps of conversations aren’t going to help him from up here, so Saiki uses both his clairvoyance and telepathy to get the full scope of the situation.
Her parents must’ve finished their talk because Teruhashi is helping them clear the table, carrying dishes back and forth from the kitchen, probably in the transition to dessert.
“Kokomi-chan,” her mom says, glancing quickly at their dad for support, “I know you’re still in high school, but you should really think about your future. You’re almost graduating.”
“Huh?” Teruhashi pauses in the middle of setting down a stack of small plates onto the table, a confused look on her face.
“I think Makoto was right when he said you’ve been playing around too much,” her father speaks up from his seat. “I’m not sure I approve of what you’ve been up to while we were gone.”
Makoto perks up at the mention of his name, a triumphant grin on his face. “See! I told you.”
Teruhashi frowns. “I don’t understand what the problem is…”
“An ordinary college, Kokomi-chan? I know we let you stay at PK Academy, but that’s because you promised us you would try somewhere prestigious for university.”
“I-I mean, I haven’t decided yet…” she starts.
“Are the rest of your friends like this?” When Teruhashi doesn’t reply, her mother frowns. “I want you to be surrounded by people worth your time.”
He can understand her dilemma. It’s not like she can tell them she’s friends with a chuunibyou, an ex-delinquent, a love-struck girl, a poor glutton, and Nendou, though he figures Hairo gets a pass.
But, one by one, memories of their makeshift group of friends flutter through her mind. Snapshots of their trips to Okinawa, Oshimai, and even that god-awful shipwreck, after-school hangouts with Yumehara and Mera, small moments in the classroom during break. Teruhashi with a genuine smile on her face; one for herself, not like the ones she flashes at everyone else.
Her father takes this moment to add, “Not to mention that Saiki-san doesn’t seem very interested in you.”
Saiki winces when he hears them bring him up.
Well, getting involved in this conversation was inevitable. They’re not even trying to conceal the fact that this is about him. But even if that’s true, isn’t it going too far to say that in their daughter’s face?
“There’s no way that shitty four-eyes is good enough for Kokomi,” Makoto says.
“Brother!” Teruhashi warns, before turning back to her parents. “Mom, dad, what are you trying to say?”
Her mother sighs. “I don’t think staying in Japan is good for you, honey.”
“Why don’t you come with us back to Paris, Kokomi?”
The feeling of Saiki’s heart dropping is probably due to the change in pressure when he teleports to the bottom of the staircase, peering from behind the wall. Or maybe he really is getting a stomach-ache, an unsettling feeling stirring inside him.
“Wait, you can’t be serious, right?” Makoto says, laughing. It’s clear that his parents didn’t consider him in their decision, because he gets up from his seat and slams his hands down on the table, eyes darting nervously between his parents and his sister. “Don’t joke around like that, dad.”
Their dad frowns at him, and the smile on Makoto’s face drops.
“Huh?! You can’t take Kokomi away from me!” Then, backtracking, he continues, desperate, “I mean, she’s doing just fine here, isn’t she?”
Ignoring Makoto’s groveling, their father says, “Think about this carefully, Kokomi. Your mother and I are worried about you.”
Teruhashi falls silent. Maybe I should listen to them. A perfect, pretty girl wouldn’t go against her parents’ wishes.
Looks like he worried himself for nothing. Of course she wouldn’t just drop her act for something small like this.
Her thoughts are cautious and orderly, a perfect embodiment of her persona. Right?
“You can find new friends in Paris. Better ones, too.”
It’s a good thing she’s leaving then, Saiki reasons. She’ll naturally stop liking him if they’re in different countries, so it’s less work for him. Their “break up” is easier this way, too.
He thinks to himself, apologetically: Sorry, Teruhashi, but it seems even the universe doesn’t want them together this time.
“’Better’?” Teruhashi repeats, an unreadable expression on her face. “’Worth my time’? Why are you talking about my friends like they’re not good enough?”
“Kokomi-chan,” her mother tries, gently, “you know this better than anyone. There’s no way anyone in this town can match up to—”
“They’re my friends. They’re kind people, and I like hanging out with them, even if they’re not rich, or pretty, or perfect. And… and Saiki-kun has always been there for me.”
She turns to her parents, a piercing look in her eyes – fierce, stubborn, prideful, and undoubtedly Teruhashi. “So, I’d like it if you didn’t talk about him like that.”
There’s the girl he knows. The perfect, pretty girl mask is finally coming off.
Teruhashi is hands-down the most troublesome person Saiki’s ever met; the culmination of everything he never wants to be involved with all at once. But she’s also someone with a stubborn work ethic he highly respects, someone who lives to make others happy with a kind of selflessness he finds admirable, someone he can’t deny he deeply cares for. Someone he can’t imagine his future without.
Oh.
Huh.
Well, there’s definitely not enough time to unpack all of that.
Teruhashi’s shoulders are shaking, the usual glow around her body fizzing out. She’s trying to control herself.
Good grief. So much for leaving quietly.
“Kokomi—”
“Stop,” he says, firmly. “You’re making Teruhashi-san upset, deciding things all by yourself.”
Saiki’s presence cuts through the room like a knife, and he walks over to the dinner table with a frown on his face.
Teruhashi stares at him. “Saiki-kun…” Did he… hear all of that?
“We’re her parents,” her dad says, standing his ground, and Saiki thinks that stubbornness runs through the family. “And she’s still young, so we have the right—”
“She won’t be leaving Japan unless she wants to,” Saiki says. “And if you truly love your daughter, you should respect that.”
Saiki wraps Teruhashi in his jacket, anything to stop her from shivering like that, and takes her hand in his. He bows, but the look he sends her parents is anything but courteous.
“Thank you for dinner, but we’re going now.”
He tugs her gently out of her seat and towards the front door, helping her put her shoes on as she follows dazedly.
Before they leave, he hears their thoughts: Kokomi’s changed.
That’s the first time she stood up for herself.
Maybe he’s a respectable man for Kokomi, after all.
—
They’re still holding hands by the time they reach his house. It’s the only way Saiki knows that she’s still there with him, with him leading the way and her thoughts surprisingly quiet.
He stops in front of his gate and hesitates for a moment. Fragments of sentences form in his mind, nothing sure-fire and clear, and he searches desperately for the right words to say. Saiki doesn’t really know what to do in situations like these; if possible, he tries to avoid them.
But like with anything related to Teruhashi, there’s no getting out of this one.
Teruhashi speaks up first.
“Thank you, Saiki-kun,” she says, so softly that he almost misses it.
“I didn’t do anything,” he says. “That was all you.”
It’s true, Saiki thinks. He only played a minuscule part that required Teruhashi’s godlike powers to work. The phrase “together, we’re invincible” trickles in from his memory.
“And I’m sorry you had to see all that,” Teruhashi says. “My parents are – well, they’re good people, it’s just… they’ll come around.”
But that’s not what’s bothering him. He just needs to know one thing, and her thoughts aren’t helping him this time around.
“Are you okay?”
She blinks up at him, not having expected that.
“I’m—yeah. I’ll be okay,” she says, then pauses. “What I said earlier… it was true.”
Saiki’s a good judge of that – what’s true and what’s not. It’s a consequence of his telepathy, so he knows that her heart is genuine this time.
“I know,” Saiki says, and without missing a beat, he squeezes her hand. There are no excuses this time.
He’s always had trouble being vulnerable. Vulnerable means caring and letting loose and having people figure him out. Vulnerable means attachment. And getting attached to Teruhashi, of all people, means attention. It’s supposed to be the last thing he wants.
But Teruhashi’s sharing a part of herself with him, knowingly, on purpose, without any hidden intentions. If there’s anything he’s learned over the past few years, it’s that some things need to be said out loud. So, he does.
“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re still here.”
This fake date is supposed to make her stop liking him. So what if he’s just adding fuel to the fire? When he sees the way her glow comes back, a soft smile on her face, he figures it’s a small price to pay.
Come on, Kokomi… this is the perfect time. Just say it.
Saiki freezes. Perfect time? For what?
His eyes dart around, and he compiles everything he remembers happening in the past half-hour.
Hold on.
This setting. The walk home from their failed fake-date, the mutual acts of vulnerability in front of his house, the way she’s shuffling her feet and turning red. Why does it all feel vaguely familiar?
Teruhashi steps forward.
Crap. He let his guard down.
Saiki steps back.
He’s falling into the plot of a B-movie, one of those cliché, low-budget, cheesy-enough-to-rival-his-parents type of romantic comedies buried at the bottom of the bargain bin he only watches because there’s nothing else he can get enjoyment from. If Teruhashi is the heroine in the situation, that makes him…
No. Make Nendou the hero.
Saiki imagines Nendou standing in his place.
Okay, no. That’s not a comforting image. Maybe not Nendou.
Kaidou, Kuboyasu, Hairo, Saiko, even Toritsuka!
But none of them feel right standing in his place, either.
Another old memory comes forward – “Well, either way, I can’t give her to any of you” – and he pushes it back down into the depths of his mind.
There’s only the two of them in the film’s shot, no one else around to take his spot. Even the once never-ending thoughts are lulled to a strange silence, like the audience is holding their breath in anticipation for what’s going to happen next. He hears nothing but Teruhashi’s thoughts, running fast and unpredictable. He checks his hand, looking for the germanium ring he knows isn’t there.
Saiki needs to stop this.
Next thing he knows, she’ll be saying, “I have something to tell you.”
“I have something to tell you.”
The plot is moving way too fast!
Teruhashi tugs on his hand, making him face her. “U-Um, there’s actually another reason I asked you to be my fake boyfriend.”
She takes another step forward. His feet stay rooted to the ground this time.
Saiki can’t move. He’s not sure he wants to move.
“Saiki-kun, I…”
Her phone rings. Unable to hide her annoyance, she rustles through her layers and pulls her phone out of her pocket. Teruhashi’s face sours when she sees the caller ID.
“It’s my brother.” She manages a smile, though he hears her curse in her head. “H-Hold on! Let me take this really quick.”
Saiki lets out a breath, visibly relieved when Teruhashi moves to a streetlight to answer the call. He just barely dodged that bullet. Someday, he’s going to have to thank Makoto for picking up on the sense of foreboding quickly enough. He already knows what the call is for, anyway.
While they were walking, he used his clairvoyance to check on the situation back at Teruhashi’s. Makoto did his best with the damage control, so there’s nothing to really worry about. It’s the bare minimum, really. After all, Saiki’s only 2% to blame for the situation. None of this would’ve happened if Makoto didn’t complain about him to their parents in the first place.
What would he have done if she really confessed to him?
Saiki watches as Teruhashi “uh-huh”’s and “mhmm”’s into her phone, leaning idly against the pole as she kicks her feet at the ground.
Her feelings are basically out of his hands. After a moment, he thinks, so are his.
It’s up to God, he supposes.
When Teruhashi finally hangs up, she walks back to the gate, her expression lighter than before. He gestures to her phone and raises an eyebrow.
“My parents want to talk to me some more,” Teruhashi says.
“Is that a good thing?”
“My brother said he was able to calm them down, so… hopefully…” She shakes her head, a determined look on her face. “No, I promise. I won’t leave Japan.”
He nods quietly. Of course not. Her parents are already in the process of coming around, and she’s Teruhashi Kokomi, loved by the gods. Things would’ve worked in her favor even if he didn’t step in.
“Besides, all my friends are here and...” Teruhashi pauses, clutching onto his jacket still wrapped around her shoulders, “there are still some things I need to do.”
Listening to her thoughts, Saiki smiles. “Good luck with that.”
“S-So, I’ll be leaving now!” she says, quickly, springing backward on her feet, her cheeks blistering red. “Thank you again, Saiki-kun. Good night!”
Her last thought echoes in his head. I can’t leave until I make Saiki-kun say “oh”!
“Not a chance.” Saiki smirks to himself, watching her disappear into the streets, shining brighter than any of the streetlights. It’s good she’s back to her usual self.
He already knows the outcome. She won’t be leaving anytime soon.
The number one law in this universe states that whatever Teruhashi Kokomi wants, she gets. So, he’ll play her game as long as she wants him to.
—
Saiki’s sitting on the couch, flipping through the week’s Shounen Cognac when it happens. He hears her coming before she even rings the doorbell.
“Kuu-chan,” his mother calls for him. “Your girlfriend is here!”
His what.
“I-It’s not like that,” Teruhashi explains from the front door, her voice flustered and nervous and just a bit cute. “But if Saiki-kun’s ready, our reservation for the sweets buffet is soon…”
“Ah! That’s right!” His mom claps her hands, beaming. “It’s the one-week anniversary of your first date!”
Through the mess of everything that happened that night, he forgot about one crucial detail. They never broke up.
Good grief.