As I waited by the the behind the yellow line for the train to arrive, a loud ding! transferred my attention to my cell phone.

RIN-RIN ☆
I miss you!

A smile took the form of my lips. We hadn't talked in a few days and that was the first thing he texted?

Resisting the urge to shake my head, I brought my thumbs to the screen to type. After a brief thought, I sent something.

Did you see something that reminded you of me?

There was a long pause on his end. Until. . .

RIN-RIN ☆
Yes. . . ?

Wow, I typed. It's nice to know I'm only worth thinking about periodically.

RIN-RIN ☆
Ah! Of course not, Shii. I think about you all the time. I cry every single day knowing you aren't with me.

On cue, he sent a photo. Dressed in a casual light grey hoodie and dark washed jeans, a huge grin painted his face, his eyes glued to the puppy he cradled in his free arm. A boatload of puppies surrounded him, one sprawled on his lap; others rolling around nearby.

RIN-RIN ☆
But can you blame me? Look at them? They're so small and cuddly. Plus they look at me the same way you do when you're hungry.
All, "Feed me or I'll bite you," type of energy.

I snorted.

Before I could get the opportunity ask his whereabouts, he'd already answered.

RIN-RIN ☆
I came to this cafe earlier to film this 'mini Q&A featuring puppies' thing but couldn't bring myself to leave because they're melting my heart. So I decided to stay here until my next gig.
(*'▽'*)
They're too precious. Maybe I should cancel work and stay here forever?

Are you telling me all this to make me jealous? I wrote.

RIN-RIN ☆
Hehe. Maybe.
Also, I have a live performance tonight at eight. Be sure to tune in.
I'll do way better knowing you're out there watching me.

For as long as I could remember, Rin-Rin had a terrible case of stage fright. At our first ever concert in first grade, he wet his pants. In third grade, he threw up into one of the nearby stage props. Sixth grade was another story—he'd passed out after singing only one line to the audience.

Before his big break, back when he was partaking in every idol audition possible, he'd get super nauseous, his knees would wobble, and he'd squeeze my hand to the point where it'd turn blue. It was by pure luck that he managed to score the lead role in the award-winning musical that shot him up the ranks—and that was only because the director felt bad for him.

He was hopeless. But he worked incredibly hard—practiced and practiced in order to stand up to all potential obstacles in the way of attaining his lifelong dream. Now that he'd finally put a foot through the doorway—and had pretty much conquered his stage fright—there was no reason for him to even tell me—the person who'd witnessed this all firsthand by his side—to "tune in."

You're such a dork, Rin-Rin. I've had this event marked on my calendar, prerecorded, from the day the news of this came out.

RIN-RIN ☆
You. . . did?

Of course I did! I typed. You'll kill it. Because, you've worked so hard. I'm sad I can't be there in person, but I'll always be rooting for you every step of the way! So don't worry about reminding me to tune into your programs or purchase your newest albums. As your number one fan, I'll do it anyway. I'm so, so proud of you, after all!  (⌒▽⌒)☆

RIN-RIN ☆
!!!         (',,•ω•,,)♡
You're going to make me cry, Shii!
What did I do to deserve you? I don't deserve you!
I love you so much!

I grinned, wide. I bet he was already crying. Still, I wonder what the public would say if they discovered their most beloved idol was an insecure, puppy-loving crybaby?

"Kisaragi?"

I flinched. Hugging my cell to my chest, I swivelled around. Who I found caused my lungs to stop functioning.

"K-Kamakiri?" I spluttered.

Eyes bugged, I scanned every portion of his face and lithe physique. If I thought he was charming in his school uniform, him in casual clothes was a whole other level. I wasn't saying that simply because my crush on him made him attractive no matter what he wore—okay, so that partly had to do with it. But, for the most part, it was classy—on a completely different scale from our other ape-like schoolmates.

Breaking out a sheepish smile, Kamakiri squeezed the back of his neck. "Why are you acting surprised? We agreed to meet at this station, remember?"

"We did?"

"You suggested it since it was the nearest one to our houses. You don't recall?"

I'd honestly blanked out after he invited me to the carnival. It was a miracle I managed to remember our agreed-upon time.

Hands timidly crossed behind my back, I framed my gaze to the tracks. It felt like forever before my erratic heart rate settled down.

I hoped to rehearse everything I planned to say during the train ride there. But he was already here. So near to me, too.

Just us.

"Kisaragi."

My name was soft as silk on his tongue.

I rotated but before I could properly face him, my cheek collided with his finger. The contact stunned me. Slapping the spot, I flinched, unable to shield my oncoming blush. "Wh-wha—"

His smile was warm. "Sorry. You seemed out of it. I wanted to get your attention."

He did?

"Are you perhaps not happy to be here?" he continued. "I did suggest this without considering your feelings. Going to a carnival with a stranger isn't very appealing, is it?"

"Th-that's not true!" I said.

Stunned, Kamakiri's mouth fell.

On a new high, I stammered onward, "I'm happy you invited me! So, so happy! You're my schoolmate. And you gave me Mortal Mania tickets. Let alone a stranger, you're like a prince!"

His eyebrows darted high. "Prince. . . ?"

My jaw plummeted. A fiery heat claimed my cheeks and ears. What was I saying? No sane person would call someone a prince—let alone out loud!

I ducked my chin. "A-anyway," I said, "I owe you a lot. Despite that, you're the one who invited me out today. I should be asking why you're going so far out of your way for a stranger."

The quiet was painstaking. I couldn't expel a proper breath nor glance up at him to confirm his reaction.

A hum resounded. "I guess. . . because you're interesting."

I jerked up my head. Kamakiri no longer looked at me. Instead, his gaze was pinned to the platform, the wind from the incoming train billowing through his soft, red hair.

I couldn't form the words. I was frozen. Speechless.

I'd only ever witnessed Kamakiri's gentle, prince-like smile. But in this moment, it was different. Wider. Self-satisfied.

"Because you're interesting."

I wasn't able to ask what that meant.

The carnival was everything I remembered a carnival to be. Extraordinarily spacious. Wafting the scent of countless fried foods. Rides of all kinds occupying every possible inch. Screams and nonchalant chatter circling about.

I'd never been to a place like this in so long. The last time was when I was ten. Alongside my mother, sister, and Rin-Rin, we frolicked about a plaza as busy as this, throwing ourselves on ride after ride and until we got nauseous. Then, after a quick rest, we repeated it all over again. Mom had always been a unique character. Although it might've been the standard for parents to keep a close eye on such a young group and occasionally join us if the ride required it, Mom was actually the culprit dragging us around. She nosedived onto on rides the rest of us were too young to board, purchased snacks and shared with us as an afterthought. She even hauled me into the biggest—and scariest—haunted house despite my fear and then later forgot me inside.

Ever since that traumatizing incident, I'd steered clear of all things horror. Halloween had even become a holiday where I ritually hid under my covers, knees hugged to my chest, paranoid that real ghouls and monsters were waiting to pounce the moment I crawled back out.

And Mom, being Mom, who loved the holiday as much as entertaining herself, wore creepy masks every single year and, alongside Mao and Dad, scared me until I either bawled or peed myself.

They excused it was to get me over my crippling fear. The real reason, however, was that they found amusement in determining who could scare me the most (which was always Mom, by the way).

I gripped my arms, resisting a shudder.

"Cold?" was Kamakiri's immediate response.

I jerked to my senses with a vehement head shake. "I'm all right!"

Something heavy fell onto my shoulders. Rigid, I whipped my head up. Kamakiri wore a broad grin.

"You don't have to be considerate. I feel the draft, too. Besides, I wouldn't want you to get sick."

He released his hold on his coat. I gripped my shoulders, relishing in the warmth that enveloped my body. It was difficult to release a breath that wasn't awed.

If any other guy had pulled such a cheesy move, I probably would've gagged—shooed them off with the wave of my hand. Then again, if it was any other guy, there was the chance their coat wouldn't have fit, therefore rendering the entire gesture invalid.

Plus, "other guys" weren't as handsome as Daisuke Kamakiri.

"Kisaragi."

"Yes," I replied, dreamily.

His laugh was tight as he arched a brow. "You're doing the whole spacing out thing again. Are you sure you're all right?"

"Y-yeah!" Darn it. I needed to get my act together. "What ride should we go on first?"

"That—"

"—should be up to us to decide."

The deep voice stunned me into silence. Before I could process anything, an arm snaked around my shoulder. A boy's face appeared inches from mine, his smirk dangerously wide.

"You don't mind, do you, beanstalk?"

My blood turned to ice.

A stream of boys surrounded us, approaching  slowly and circling us like hawks. Their outfits were ripped and dishevelled, hair dyed wild colours and piercings indispensable. They were the boys I'd witnessed Kamakiri interact with on multiple occasions.

They stood on either side of Kamakiri, grinning wolfishly.

"She really is tall," cooed the guy closest to Kamakiri. He set his fingers under his chin, stroking it slowly. "I thought so from afar, but up close is another experience."

"There's nothing wrong with that," said the boy with his arm around me, his blond bangs falling over his eyelids. "She's hot. That's all that matters."

I jostled him off in an instant. Keeping a firm hold on Kamakiri's coat so it wouldn't fall, I retreated, warily eyeing all four of them.

What was going on?