Takara woke up to the smell of peppermint.
He sat up groggily, hair sticking out in all directions, and blinked blearily around the room. Sunlight streamed through the narrow window, cutting a golden path across the floor. Kayo was already awake, dressed, and brushing his teeth with the efficiency of a soldier.
It was 6:14 a.m.
"Do you always get up this early?" Takara asked, voice hoarse.
Kayo spit into the sink basin they shared and rinsed his mouth. "Yes."
Takara flopped back down with a groan. "What are you, a monk?"
"You could try waking up earlier. You might be less chaotic."
"I thrive in chaos," Takara mumbled, pulling the blanket over his head.
Kayo didn't reply. He rarely did.
By the time Takara dragged himself out of bed, Kayo had already packed his bag, eaten breakfast, and left for class.
Takara stumbled through his morning routine like a zombie. His side of the room was quickly becoming a battlefield of clothes, paper, and half-finished snack wrappers.
When he arrived to homeroom ten minutes late, the teacher gave him a pointed look. He grinned sheepishly and shuffled to his seat.
To his surprise, Kayo was sitting beside him.
"I thought you hated me," Takara whispered.
"I don't hate you," Kayo said flatly. "I find you… disruptive."
"Flattered."
"Don't be."
Takara bit back a laugh.
That afternoon, things escalated.
Takara returned to the dorm with the intention of watching anime and procrastinating on homework. Instead, he opened the door to find his posters—all the ones he'd carefully taped to the walls—gone.
Folded neatly on his bed.
"What the hell?" he snapped.
Kayo didn't even look up from his textbook. "They were crooked. It was bothering me."
"They were mine!"
"They were also halfway falling off the wall."
"That's how they're supposed to look! It's called personality!"
Kayo sighed and closed his book. "Your personality is disorder?"
"No, it's called being alive."
"I prefer peace."
"Well, I prefer not living with a controlling control freak!"
Kayo stood. "And I prefer not living with a walking explosion!"
They stared at each other, the air thick with tension.
"Fine," Takara snapped. "New rule—don't touch my stuff."
"Gladly. New rule—you clean your side of the room before your mess migrates."
"You—!"
Takara stormed out before he could say something he'd regret.
He ended up outside, sitting on a bench in the courtyard, clutching a vending machine soda like it was the last drop of peace in the world.
He knew it wasn't really about posters or messes. Not entirely.
It was the ache of change. The sting of grief. The bitterness of being left behind.
Living with a stranger only made it all feel sharper.
Still, he hated how easy it was to argue with Kayo. How quickly they flared into fire.
And underneath it all… part of him hated that Kayo was so unreadable.
Unshakable.
Unreachable.
Kayo, meanwhile, was pacing the room.
He hated conflict. It unsettled him. It reminded him of all the noise in his childhood home—voices too loud, silences too cold.
Takara was the opposite of cold. He was heat and emotion and sound.
Kayo didn't know how to handle it.
But he also couldn't stop hearing Takara's words.
Control freak.
Walking explosion.
He sighed, pressing a hand to his temple. His thoughts were all out of order—just like the posters on the wall had been.
That night, Takara returned just after lights-out. He didn't speak. He didn't look at Kayo.
He just climbed into bed, rolled over, and turned his back.
Kayo sat on his mattress for a long time before finally saying, "I won't touch your things again."
Takara didn't respond.
"But your side of the room still looks like a crime scene."
Takara huffed. "Baby steps, Tsukishiro."
There was a pause. Then, quietly:
"I didn't mean to erase you," Kayo said.
Takara blinked into the darkness. "What?"
"Your posters. Your style. You. I just… couldn't think with them staring at me."
Takara shifted. "I didn't mean to trash your vibe either. I'm not used to sharing space."
"Neither am I."
Silence again. But this time it wasn't cold.
"Tomorrow," Kayo said. "We can put them up again. Straighter."
Takara smiled into his pillow. "Deal."