"If you wanted to hold my hand, you could have just asked."
It’s a nice night out.
They’re taking a walk, a small detour before they inevitably have to return home, tend to their responsibilities. The air is cool, the streets quiet. A comfortable silence settles between the two of them, easy.
A realization lights up in Keito’s head. It’s always during these times the protagonist grabs the love interest’s hand, and they share a moment of passion, right? Keito’s eyes flit down to Kiryu’s hand. This shouldn’t be too hard. Just a few inches, that’s all.
…
Keito’s hand won’t move.
He starts finding a thousand and one concerns—how would you even do it? Kiryu’s palm faces in, is Keito supposed to just grab it like that, his palm on the back of Kiryu’s hand? That’d be horribly awkward. Is he supposed to flip Kiryu’s hand? Honestly, manga’s manga, why is he using it as reference for real life anyway?!
“—Danna, you okay?” Kiryu’s looking at him with a perplexed look on his face.
Shit.
“Yes, why do you ask?"
"You’re scowling."
"…Uh. Um. Sorry.” He’s flustered now. He hates being flustered.
“And you’re staring at my hand a lot."
Keito considers dying in a hole.
"If you wanted to hold my hand, you could have just asked.” A small smile slips onto Kiryu’s face, bashful. Clumsily, a hand slips into his.
Keito’s really, really flustered now.
“Better?” Kiryu links their fingers together. He looks embarrassed too. Under the streetlights, Keito can see him blushing. This is unfair. Everything about this is unfair and foul play. He’s going to die right here and now and it’s going to be Kiryu’s fault.
“…Better.” Keito’s voice won’t work properly, coming out soft. He’s smiling a little, he realizes.
