Change happened gradually. Small insignificant things, but change nonetheless.

Whenever Mihoshi made eye contact with Sora who was crowded by people on the other side of the hallway, they would exchange a wave of acknowledgement. That basic gesture was enough. Because Sora still wouldn’t show a genuine smile in the presence of other people.

During group projects, Mihoshi made an effort to try asking Sora to join his group, but going against a whole throttle of students gunning for Hokushin Sora was something Mihoshi was still incapable of overcoming.

Lunch time was even worse.

It was practically impossible for Mihoshi to approach Sora, but the more they tried to get closer, the more they noticed each other. Like a game of exploration and survival where they each needed to find their way through the maze, against all obstacles, and when they did finally escape the throngs of people, the adrenaline was far more exhilarating than any roller coaster ride.

In an empty classroom, just after dismissal time, Mihoshi and Sora sat on the floor, hidden from the windows of the hallway.

“You ran all the way here?” Mihoshi asked with a playful grin.

“Damn right. Felt like a marathon trying to shake off those pests.” Sora flapped his shirt to cool off the sweat beading on his chin and neck.

No one would have imagined the school’s prince to call the students pests. Hearts would break. Trust in humanity would shatter.

“You…really have no filter, huh?” Mihoshi chuckled.

At that, almost naturally, Sora rested his head on Mihoshi’s shoulder. “I’m only like this with you.”

“Why? Because I know what you’re really like?”

“Because I’m comfortable with you.”

The straightforward answer caught Mihoshi by surprise. For a moment, his mind went blank, but his heart pounded in a way it had never before. From his position, he could see the crown of Sora’s head, the long eyelashes, and the tip of his sharp nose, all belonging to this man adored and admired by many.

And only Mihoshi got to see this side of him.

Maybe that was when it all started.

Curious teens, high on puberty hormones, no wonder Mihoshi didn’t question whether it was right for him to harbor these feelings towards Sora.

Mihoshi was someone who never backed down no matter how much bigger his opponent was. In aikido, size difference could be countered with precise timing and technique. All he needed was to read the person’s slight movement and catch that opening. Use their momentum and break their balance.

Claps and cheers resounded from around the dojo. The club members and the usually stoic instructor wore expressions of bewilderment when Mihoshi finally, for the first time, took down the assistant instructor. Not only were they of different weight classes, their belts were several ranks apart.

Human bodies dictate strength.

But Mihoshi defied it.

After cleaning up, Mihoshi bounced out of the dojo, only to be greeted by Sora.

“Huh, were you waiting for me?”

“‘Course I did. Who else would I wait for?” Sora straightened up from the tree he was leaning against. The gentle breeze cascaded along his unblemished face, skin so perfect even for someone who had started modeling as a child back in Canada. Since moving to Japan, it was no wonder that many scouts trailed after Sora to reel him into their agencies despite him already having a contract with his Canadian agency. He might have stopped activities at the moment to focus on his studies, but there was no hiding the lethality of his visual appearance.

Mihoshi let out an awkward laugh to hide the sudden embarrassment rising inside him. Compared to Sora, he was average-looking as though he was just one of the many people in the background. He wasn’t particularly short or tall. His body was fit with lean muscle, but not something to be considered sexy because his training and reckless attitude painted him with bruises and scratches.

“I saw your spar.” Sora said as they began walking towards the school gates. In the warm light of the approaching dusk, Sora’s dark hair framed his gentle smile. “You were cool.”

It was a generic word used to describe many things with or without any deeper meaning. But when Sora looked at him with that piercing gaze and that word rolled off his tongue in a languid pace, Mihoshi found his breath taken away.

“I…I’m not as cool as you, though.” Mihoshi stumbled on his words. “You’re a thousand times cooler.”

Sora patted Mihoshi’s head. “You never skip training, you work hard, you’ve been at it for so long. If that doesn’t make you cool, nothing in the world is.”

Embarrassment and joy heated up Mihoshi’s face and he bit the inside of his cheeks to prevent the silly grin from spreading. Being called ‘cool’ by the school’s prince was a medal no one else but Mihoshi had received.

Once they reached the front gates, Sora’s chauffeur was already waiting with the black sedan.

“Come see my performance. We’re rehearsing after school this Friday.” Sora ruffled Mihoshi’s hair before getting into the car.

Mihoshi watched the car drive off. He touched the spot where Sora had patted him, the warmth tingling his skin. Many times, he wished that they could hang out after dismissal time. But in exchange for permission to study in Japan, Sora had to compromise with his parents that he would always go home and not wander about. The chauffeur most likely reported every movement to his parents.

Sora might have flown across the world in search of his freedom.

But that freedom came with a price.

There was nothing either of them could do. So they would simply enjoy the most of what they could.

And when Mihoshi watched Sora stand on stage for the first time, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. The play was a retelling of a historical event. Throughout the whole thirty minutes, Mihoshi kept his gaze on Sora, mesmerized by the sheer brilliance of an actor, as if the war general of the olden days was in the flesh, commanding his warriors. Distinct deliverance of his script, powerful movement to emphasize the character’s emotions, sharp timing to unfold the story with a dramatic flare.

As though Sora had truly transformed into a whole other person.

The doubts, the confusion, the curiosity that lingered in Mihoshi’s aching heart all these while finally cleared up like the vast sky when the clouds dispersed.

The feelings Mihoshi harbored for Sora was something special.

At the end of rehearsal, Mihoshi waited for the theatre members to leave. It took Sora fifteen minutes longer than everyone else to tidy up, having to politely deflect and escape the attempts of pulling him into a conversation. The moment he freed himself, he power-walked out and dragged Mihoshi with him.

“That hurts, General,” Mihoshi said in a mocking tone.

“Shut up. Just hurry before they chase after us.”

“They’re only chasing you, not me.”

Albeit the teasing banter, Mihoshi couldn’t help the laugh escaping his mouth. To see Sora go from being an outstanding student, to a fierce general, and now a rude delinquent was simply hilarious and amusing.

They quickened their steps down the hallway and entered an empty classroom.

“I told the guard dog I finish at four, but he knows that I’ll be hung up another thirty minutes.”

Mihoshi sat on the floor next to Sora. “I still don’t get why you have to keep up appearances.”

“You have no idea how crazy my parents are. I have to be top of the class, excel in sports and arts. I have to build good rapport with everyone, including the teachers. I have to be their perfect son in the family. If they want those academic reports, why don’t they do it themselves? Why shove it all in my face?”

The only son of wealthy entrepreneurs, Hokushin Sora was indoctrinated to only be the best. From a young age, he learned that although he was already born gifted, he must continue to work hard to surpass any limits and obtain whatever his goals were. Both his parents provided him with financial and material support to ensure he had the best opportunities and tools at his disposal. To outsiders, it was the picture of a loving and caring family, but to Sora, it was a cage where he was the puppet strung along to his parents’ wishes.

Studies, sports, after-school lessons, art classes, music lessons, meeting with future business partners. Like nurturing a potted plant in a greenhouse.

“I had to beg to transfer here with the excuse of relearning my cultural heritage and expanding my horizons, blah blah blah. I got two years, but that’s enough as long as I can be away from them. Fuck.”

Who would have thought the role model student would swear and complain about his parents?

But you're still following their wishes here. Mihoshi couldn't say his thoughts out loud. He couldn't exactly empathize with Sora's situation because his family was the exact opposite. Mihoshi's parents allowed him to do whatever he wanted as long as he was healthy and had some sort of plan for the future. He didn't have big ambitions. His days consisted of school, hanging out with friends, and training. After graduation, he would likely take over their small family store.

Mihoshi glanced at Sora, for the first time, acknowledging how different the worlds they came from were.