A/N: Inspired by Daphne Khoo's Wonderland, actually.

Change, Kou contemplated, is sneaky.

It never came announcing itself, politely tapping on your shoulder or even not-so-politely barging and stopping you in your tracks. Rather, it concealed itself, revealing itself little by little, until it finally revealed so much of itself that you couldn't ignore it any longer.

Kou rarely doubted that he wouldn't or couldn't win Futaba back. After all, this was Futaba, who had made that amazing face when she had tried to save him from the 'prison' in that game of cops and robbers. He was her first kiss. Her first love. She ran after him while he foolishly chased after Narumi. Even in her sleep, she would sniff him inadvertently. They had shared so much over so long. Fate could not have had it any other way. Everything else, including that idiot mushroom-head, was temporary.

That was the belief he maintained, even as he grudgingly tried not to watch them walk together hand in hand, or study together after school, or eat lunch together every day. He had never been unconvinced that it was all one-sided, Futaba simply seeking happiness where she thought she could not find it with Kou. There was her instantaneous decision to follow him around Nagasaki in their first year school trip despite being Kikuchi's girlfriend. The occasional wistful glance. And, he was the one who had rescued her from that narrow alley while she cried and hid from her attacker. How could fate have had it any other way?

So he simply treated her relationship with Kikuchi with annoyance and in fact, grudging patience, always backed by the belief that she would eventually realise the farce that it was and that he, at whatever opportune moment, would have the chance to seize her back, where she would then never stray. He was hers. She had to know it.

Everything happened so subtly, so gradually. First the constant appearance of Kikuchi at his class every break time, sometimes with his complete posse, sometimes only with Makita's boyfriend, sometimes by himself. Then Futaba started making him a bento box every day, which Kikuchi had in the beginning often protested because he thought it tired her to make two. Eventually Futaba won though, much to Kou's chagrin, and it often took all of Kou's willpower not to stalk out of the class when Kikuchi appeared (it was too obvious and he felt it better to have a clear idea of what was going on, rather than hide away and let his imagination run wild). Kou put up with their happy laughter, Futaba wiping away an occasional grain of rice from her boyfriend's chin, the occasional feeding (how shameless). It was just normal couply things, Kou reasoned, which Futaba probably felt obliged to participate in as she had that title of being Kikuchi's girlfriend. So even with all that, Kou's belief never wavered.

Kou had walked into class one day, after spending the entire journey from the school store arranging his face into the perfect expression of indifference in preparation for what he knew awaited him - Futaba and Kikuchi seated opposite each other at her desk, Futaba laughing as she told him some funny thing that had happened at her home the day before, Kikuchi laughing as well as he ate the bento his (for now) girlfriend had prepared.

He almost missed it.

Futaba's ankles were hooked around one of her boyfriend's, so casually that most people wouldn't give it a second thought. It had the look of a gesture made so often, as though she had completely forgotten where she was and had simply done it out of conditioned reflex. Kikuchi likewise looked completely at home in this position, not a hint of red on his fair skin.

Kou couldn't help it; he stared, in complete shock, then as soon as he realised he was staring, quickly looked away and somehow made it back to his desk. His heart was throbbing painfully; he wondered if he too, might be suffering from lung cancer like his late mother, and thought what a reprieve it would be. Anything but this.

"Oh right, didn't you say you have to help sensei bring the workbooks back to class during lunch?" Kou heard Kikuchi suddenly ask. He didn't speak loudly, but the class was almost empty and Kou had developed great eavesdropping abilities. "We better go now, or we'll be late."

"Uwa- you're right," Kou heard her say. "I still can't find my watch, so-"

"Oh!" Kou pretended to play with his phone, angling it so he could see what was happening behind him off the screen. He could make out Kikuchi digging inside his trouser pocket. "I found it! Here," he handed something to her.

"Oo! Thank you," Futaba fumbled around with her wrist putting on her watch. "Where did you find it?"

"Eh, that..." Kikuchi leaned forward and whispered something into her ear.

"Ehhh!" Kou couldn't see it on the black glass screen, but he could practically feel both Futaba and Kikuchi blush beetroot red. "That - see, it's all your fault!"

"Uwa, gomen," Kikuchi laughed and pinched her nose affectionately, making Kou's levels of hate for him soar. "You know my desk is kinda far, so I just put it there, sorry."

"Your voice is louuud," Futaba half complained, putting her hand over his mouth. "Come on, let's go or we'll be late."

"Un," her boyfriend replied amiably as he pushed his chair back to follow her. Kou tried not to notice how Futaba immediately took his elbow as they left the classroom; tried not to notice how closely they were walking, so much more closer than he'd remembered.

Had she really left him? For the first time, this horrible, horrible thought struck Kou like a bolt of lightning. But he was her Kou. She was his world.

As they walked past him in the corridor, he watched her snuggle up to Kikuchi, the latter wrapping an arm protectively around her waist.

Change, Kou thought, suppressing the sharp ache in his ribcage. Not only was it sneaky, it was also cruel.