Classes started early, the kind of morning where the air still felt half-asleep.
Second and third grade students shared the same lecture hall, rows filling slowly with chatter, notebooks, and the scrape of chairs against the floor. Pond slipped into a seat near the middle without thinking too much about it. Light followed a second later, dropping his bag at his feet and settling beside him like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Of course they sat together. That had never been a question.
Light opened his notebook immediately, pen already moving as the professor began talking. Focused. Sharp. Present. The faint crease between his brows appeared as soon as equations hit the board, like his mind had clicked into a different gear.
Pond noticed all of it.
He tried to look forward. He really did.
The professor's voice blended into noise, words stacking on top of each other without meaning. Pond nodded at the right moments, copied a few random lines into his notebook, but none of it stayed. His attention kept drifting sideways, pulled by something much quieter and much more dangerous.
Light leaned forward slightly, sleeve brushing Pond's arm. Unintentional. Effortless.
Pond's pen paused.
Light chewed on the end of it for a second, then wrote again, faster now. His hair fell into his eyes and he pushed it back absently, not even looking up.
Pond swallowed.
This was stupid. He knew it was. He'd sat next to Light a hundred times before. Shared late nights, shared beds, shared silences that meant too much. None of this was new.
So why now?
The professor called on someone from third grade. Light lifted his head, eyes attentive, already forming an answer even though the question hadn't been directed at him. Pond watched the way Light's jaw tightened in concentration, the way his shoulders straightened without thinking.
Beautiful, his mind supplied, uninvited.
Pond looked away immediately, staring hard at the board like it might expose him.
Get it together.
Beside him, Light shifted again, whispering without looking over.
-Did you get that last part?
Pond blinked.
-…What part?
Light finally turned, eyebrow lifting, amused.
-Wow. You're really gone today.
Pond scoffed, defensive.
-I'm listening.
Light smiled, soft and knowing, and leaned closer to point at the notes.
-Sure you are.
The closeness made Pond's chest tighten. He caught the faint scent of detergent, something clean and familiar, and for a moment the classroom disappeared entirely.
Mixed grades. Shared space. Dozens of people around them.
And still, Pond couldn't focus on anything but the person sitting an inch away.
Almost saying it echoed in his head again.
He forced himself to look down at the notebook, jaw clenched.
Light went back to his notes, unaware.
And that somehow made it worse.
The third hour began with English.
Normally, Pond liked this class. The rhythm of another language, the way words could bend meaning. That morning, though, he couldn't focus.
Light sat two seats away.
(-Why are we separated?)
The question slipped into his mind before he could stop it. They were used to sitting together. It felt almost deliberate now, the space between them.
Pond glanced around, then remembered the professor's words from the start of class.
Mixed course. Different years. Separate seating.
She had decided to arrange them by year, first, second, third, neat rows of order that made sense on paper. Still, it felt unnecessary. Pointless.
Pond shifted in his chair, resting his cheek against his hand, eyes drifting back to Light despite himself.
Light didn't seem bothered. He was focused, pen moving steadily, fully present in the lesson. That somehow made it worse.
Pond looked back at the board, forcing himself to listen.
(-Why does this bother me?)
The answer came too fast.
Because it's not just about the seat.
_________________________________________
After class, he went up to the rooftop
The open space waiting at the top. Pond lifted his camera and framed the view like he always did, the city stretching out beneath the pale afternoon light. Buildings stacked into the distance, windows catching the sun, shadows cutting clean lines across concrete
He adjusted the focus, snapped a shot, then another.
Normally, this was where his mind cleared. Where everything made sense through a lens.
Today, it didn't.
Between shots, his eyes drifted away from the view, back toward the campus below. He lowered the camera, exhaling slowly, resting it against his chest.
Why do I keep looking for him?
The wind moved around him, cool, familiar. Pond raised the camera again, forcing himself to concentrate, but even through the viewfinder, something felt off. The composition was right. The light was perfect.
Still, it wasn't what he was really seeing.
Light was looking around for him.
The hallways, the stairs, the usual corners where time liked to slow down. When he didn't find him there, the answer came easily, almost instinctive. Of course.
The rooftop.
He climbed up, pushing the door open with a soft metallic sound. The wind greeted him first, then the quiet. Pond was there, just like he thought, standing near the edge with his camera in hand, shoulders slightly tense as he framed the city.
Light stopped a few steps away.
For a moment, he just watched. The way Pond tilted his head, the careful patience in his movements. It was familiar, grounding.
-Figured you'd be here,- Light said at last, breaking the silence.
The rooftop didn't feel empty anymore.
Light stepped closer, the wind tugging lightly at his sleeves. Pond didn't turn right away.
-You've been quiet all day,-Light said, softer now. -Like… somewhere else.
Pond adjusted the lens, pretending to focus on the skyline. Click. Too sharp. He lowered the camera.
-Am I?
Light tilted his head, studying him.
-Yeah. And when you get like that, it usually means you're thinking too much,— he paused, then added, half-teasing, half-serious. -Are you hiding something from me?
That did it.
Pond finally looked at him. Just for a second. Long enough for something unguarded to slip through before he masked it again.
-if I were,-he said slowly, -would you want to know?
Light blinked, caught off guard. The breeze filled the space between them, carrying the weight of things neither of them had named yet.
-Depends,- Light replied. -On what it is.
Pond turned back to the city, jaw tightening, fingers curling around the camera strap.
-Then you see,- he said quietly, not looking at Light. -That's why I've been so quiet.
Pond turned back to the city, jaw tightening, fingers curling around the camera strap.
-Then you see,-he said quietly, not looking at Light. -That's why I've been so quiet.
The wind swept across the rooftop, tugging at Light's hair. He stepped closer, close enough to feel the warmth Pond pretended not to notice.
-You always do that,- Light said softly. -You think if you don't say it out loud, it'll stop being real.
Pond let out a short breath, almost a laugh, but there was no humor in it.
-I'm fine,-he replied automatically, too quick, too practiced.
Light tilted his head, studying him the way he usually studied notes, as if Pond were a problem with an answer hiding in plain sight.
-You're terrible at lying,- he said.
Pond finally looked at him then. Just for a second. Long enough to give himself away.
Light caught it. The pause. The tension. The way Pond seemed to weigh every word before letting it exist
-It's not that I don't want to tell you,— Pond said slowly, eyes drifting back to the city. —It's just… I don't know how to say it without messing it up.
Light stayed quiet.
So Pond continued, voice low, careful.
-It's like something changed and I didn't notice when it happened. One day everything was normal and then-he shook his head, frustrated. -Then it wasn't.
He stopped. Started again.
-You're just… there. All the time. In my head. And it doesn't make sense because I don't—
The sentence broke off.
Pond pressed his lips together, jaw tightening. He let out a breath through his nose, annoyed at himself.
-It just… it gets tangled, and I… -he shook his head, frustrated, eyes dropping to the rooftop floor.
He glanced up at Light for a second, searching for understanding, but Light just stayed there, wide-eyed, lips parted slightly, frozen in surprise.
Pond turned back to the city, jaw tight, shoulders tense. He opened his mouth again, then closed it, words failing him. The thought of trying to explain everything in order felt impossible.
-It's… it's like I want to tell you… but the words don't… -he trailed off again, letting the sentence hang unfinished, letting the silence fill the space between them.
Light didn't step closer. Didn't pull away. He just watched, letting Pond's struggle speak louder than any confession could.
And for the first time that day, Pond realized that maybe staying silent-messy, incomplete, and tangled-was the only thing he could manage.
Light stepped closer, careful, giving Pond all the space he seemed to need. He didn't rush, didn't reach out yet. Just stood near, voice low and steady.
-Hey… -he said softly- it's okay.
Pond tensed at the sound, shoulders stiff, eyes fixed on the city below. He wasn't used to this. Not the attention, not the patience, not someone silently letting him gather his thoughts.
Step by careful step, Light edged closer, stopping just far enough to respect Pond's space. His presence alone, calm and deliberate, was enough to ground him.
-You don't have to say it all at once,— Light continued slowly- just… start wherever you can.
Pond let out a breath, trying to calm the jumble inside him. He blinked, focused, and started again, slower this time.
-I care about you… more than I should probably… and it makes me nervous… because I… I don't want to… mess up what we have.
Light froze for a moment, chest tightening, heart picking up pace. His brows drew together slightly, fingers curling at his sides. He cares about me… The words hit him like a sudden gust of wind, unexpected and overwhelming
(-He cares about me , he cares about me,he cares about me )
He wanted to say something—anything—but his throat felt tight, words caught halfway. The rooftop felt smaller all of a sudden, the city below fading into a blur as all his attention locked on Pond.
Pond's jaw was tight, lips pressed together, trying to keep control. The seriousness in his expression was real, but Light could see the small tremor in his hands, the way his fingers fidgeted, betraying how nervous he really was.
Light moved closer, careful not to crowd him, letting his presence settle like a quiet anchor. Pond's chest tightened with every inch, heart hammering faster than he wanted to admit. He tried to focus on the city, the skyline, anything ,but his eyes kept flicking to Light, to the warmth just nearby, to the gentle patience in his gaze.
-You don't have to say it all at once-Light murmured, voice low, deliberate. -Just… tell me what you can.
Pond swallowed, hands clenching at his sides. His chest felt too tight, mind racing, but the steady calm of Light standing so close made him dare something he hadn't dared before. He leaned just slightly, as if to bridge the gap, letting his gaze lock with Light's, searching, hesitant.
And then, instinct took over. The quiet, careful tension, the nervous breaths, the feeling of being understood and seen—it all pushed him forward. Pond closed the final fraction of space, pressing his lips gently to Light's in a delicate, careful kiss. Not forceful, not rushed, just a single, soft connection, lingering for a heartbeat longer than it should.
Light's hands twitched near Pond's sides, hovering but not touching, unsure how much to respond without breaking the fragile moment. Their breaths mingled, quiet and uneven, hearts hammering in sync.
A sudden creak on the stairs made both of them spring apart instantly.
Pond lifted his camera, angling it toward the skyline, pretending to take a photo.
Light crouched slightly, scanning the rooftop floor, pretending to search for something.
The footsteps climbed past them and faded.
Pond lowered the camera slowly, checking the viewfinder. Light adjusted his posture, brushing imaginary dust from his pants.
Pond looked at Light directly, jaw still tight, fingers fidgeting slightly.
-I… I really don't want to confuse you-he said, voice low, hesitant-because I'm not… I'm not sure. All my life I've been straight, and this… this is the first time I've ever liked a guy.
Light blinked, heart catching in his chest. A small, soft smile spread across his face.
-Actually… -light said slowly, eyes meeting Pond's- I've liked you since my first year. I just… never had the courage to tell you.
Pond took a shaky breath, looking into Light's eyes.
-Okay… we can try something-he said slowly, voice low and careful-but I'll try, and… I hope I don't hurt you.
Light's lips curved into a small, reassuring smile.
-I trust you-light replied softly-just… be honest with me, that's all I need.