Whaaaaat is haaaaaappening heeeeeeere!!!!

"Also mum was looking for you," Akira adds.

Toshiki lets out a hysterical laugh and holds his head, gigging his fingers into his hair. "Fuck."

Akira pats Toshiki's shoulder awkwardly. "Yeah," he says, before looking back up at Yutaka. "Sorry."

What the fuck does he even say to that. If there was a way for this entire interaction to not have been an unmitigated disaster, he doesn't know what it is.

Toshiki sniffles, once, then rubs his eyes with the back of his wrist before looking up at Yutaka. "Don't come back inside. Wait... wait a little bit. Mum doesn't deserve... more of this."

A lightning bolt hits real close and is quickly followed by a very loud clap of thunder.

He jumps in place but doesn't squeak, and instead just says, "Okay," weakly.

"...and don't text me either. Not... not for a while. I, I'll, if, I'll text you if I..." He shakes his head, rubs his eyes again, and rushes back inside.

"...same goes for me, actually. We had fun, Yutaka-kun, but, uh." He offers Yutaka a watery smile of his own. "Guess I got too attached." Sniffle. "Sorry," he repeats.

"Okay," he says, again, weakly, again.

"Yeah. Uh. Bye." And he walks back inside, too.

What the fuck just happened.

Yutaka flops onto his bed, the bed the house cleaner who comes over every day made for him, face down onto the mattress, arms splayed to both sides. "You know what my wish is, Kyūbey?" he mumbles into the mattress. He's not even sure if Kyūbey's actually listening, and he's too drunk to care. Too drunk to really consider the consequences of his actions. "My wish is that I weren't so messy and fucked up. That's my wish. Can you grant me that?"

That is not something you want with all your heart.

"What do you mean I don't want it with all my heart. What else do I want with all my heart, Kyūbey?"

I don't know. I can only tell how strongly you feel about a thing if you tell me what thing you are imagining.

"I don't know. I don't know. Is it easier for other people? I bet it's easier for other people. Can I wish to know what I should wish for?"

No.

"Ugh. I bet Swan Masaharu didn't have all this trouble with it. Or Yamanaka Junko. Or whoever else. I bet other people know what they want. All I know is what I don't want, and I don't want this. Any of this."

It has gained entry into his room somehow. Its tail swishes. It climbs onto his arm.

Yutaka turns his head to the side to look at him, resting his cheek on the soft, soft mattress. "I wish this rain would stop. I wish I hadn't messed Toshiki up so bad. I wish I'd noticed the way Akira felt about me. I wish Matsuda Eiji had a nicer life and didn't feel like he had to hide who he is from everyone else. I wish making people happy were as easy as knowing what favours to do them or what gifts to give them. But I don't wish any of it all that much, do I, Kyūbey?"

You don't.

"Ugh." He buries his face in the mattress again. It feels so shitty to be complaining, so shitty to feel bad about having two separate boys fall in love with him and confess at a ridiculously fancy party in a swanky hotel with delicious food and drinks surrounded by all of Japan's foremost elite. Like, you can't get more first world problems than this. But here he is, complaining, suffering, even, in the most comfortable bed in the world, wearing a suit as expensive as a car, as a healthy young male heir to one of the most highly-valued companies in the world.

He's pathetic, is what he is, and he doesn't even want to not be pathetic badly enough to be able to get it.

Pawpat on his shoulder. Pat pat.