AHAHAHA I HAD FINALLY UPDATED! I mean, it's been a long time, but the wait was shorter than the last update, right? ;) #Excuses

I know there's been a lot of anticipation for this chapter, and even though AkaFuri hasn't met yet (they will in the next chapter, I promise) I really, really hope this lives up to your expectations. '~' And as promised, Haizaki's endgame made an appearance here (I'm not telling you who) and you find out something interesting about one of the other characters. He will be an important sidekick from now on!

Furihata slumped against the window as the sleek train hummed beneath his feet. The movie-like scenery rolled past him like a silent film, and the peaceful motion pushed him in one direction between sleeping and staying awake, while a somewhat unlucky premonition shoved him the other way.

No, he didn't get any sleep last night. Maybe it's because he's nervous, maybe it's because he's afraid of getting brutally murdered (by a rainbowed-coloured gang, to be exact), or maybe he finally caught the Kagami virus after being the tiger's teammate for so long, who knows?

"Yo, Furihata, this is fuc-I mean, freaking lit!"

Oh, and this guy's not helping either.

Haizaki sat blankly still on the couch, the incriminating evidence still in his hands when chocolate eyes stared horrifyingly into grey ones.

Furihata wanted to scream. Before he could open his mouth, however, he recalled (with extreme horror) an explicit scene he drew just a second ago and realized that nothing, not even screaming like a banshee, will help him out of this situation. Thus, still screaming on the inside, horror faded into dread, and Furihata Kouki resigned to his fate.

(If you look beyond the chihuahua's slightly melodramatic mental gymnastics, however, you'd notice that Haizaki wasn't particularly disgusted at what he saw.)

Wordlessly, the older boy studied the sheet of paper in his hand one more time (which just so happened to have the sex scene on it and-oh god, it looks so much racier than he remembered it being), before bending down and picking up the rest. By the time Furihata managed to stop him, Haizaki appeared to be drowning in the story.

"U-uh." The brunette mumbled, "Y-you can just, uh, leave that there…"

"Oh no." Haizaki replied, calmly, "Don't worry about me. I will take responsibility for this later, just let me finish this page."

"A-ah, no! Y-y-you don't h-have to do that!"

"I want to. Please?"

Holy crap this is so embarrassing! Furihata thought as he buried his face in his hands, suddenly dizzy with embarrassment as Haizaki raised an eyebrow. Is he hypoventilating? He's too messed up to care, but anyway...He can't believe this is happening to him, of all people!

Although to be honest, he had it coming...

"U-uh...p-p-p-please don't read them."

"Why?" the taller boy frowned, pouting a little bit as he caressed the papers with his fingertips, "I won't do anything strange in your living room, I promise."

"W-what do you mean by s- "

"Pretty please?"

W-What in the world was Haizaki making that face over? Shouldn't he be the one that's emotionally wrecked here? He's the high school boy whose identity as a yaoi mangaka just got found out by a fellow high school boy, god damn it!

Everyone knows how tolerant high school boys are towards homosexuals, right?

"C-Can't you not read that?"

"But these works were drawn to be viewed, are they not?"

Y-yes, but not by you! Furihata's almost crying out of embarrassment at this point. Oh great, he thought, Haizaki will never talk to him again. And that's not the worst of it-He had respected Furihata so much before this, had felt (groundlessly, in Kouki's opinion) guilty for being a bad person in comparison to Kouki, but what will he think now? W-what if he badmouths him all around the neighborhood and spreads rumors about how perverted the good child of the Furihatas actually is? Ka-boom, there goes Kouki's reputation! Now all the old ladies will gossip behind his back, and all the girls (and boys) will avoid him, and he'll be alone, and-

(Once again, if you actually looked beyond Kouki's mental gymnastics you'd see that Haizaki wasn't that disgusted at what he saw. But alas, not being melodramatic has never been one of Kouki's strong suits.)

Every square centimeter of his animal brain is telling him to run, to buy a train ticket and start life somewhere else. However, he knew he had to do something. The raging paranoia of being further embarrassed by his chosen line of profession was quickly and ruthlessly pressing the brunette beyond his usual boundaries, and suddenly, "I don't want you to look at this", was all the brunette could think as Haizaki bent over his scattered work again. Blood boiled behind thin skin, and Furihata found himself unable to differentiate between fear and anger when he hissed, tone surprisingly absolute (aside from the stutter):

"I-I, as an a-a-a-artist, p-personally find you looking at m-my work without my p-p-p-permission very rude. T-thus, please put my papers down u-until I give you permission to do otherwise. I d-don't like it, a-a-and that r-r-r-reason's sufficient enough."

The room fell silent.

Haizaki looked at Furihata incredulously from the floor and almost reflexively, the brunette's blood chilled. The thought of offending people terrified him more than anything, after all, and he was about to bow and apologize when the taller male let out a sigh and flopped back onto the couch-Resignation wrote all over his features, but he looked happy.

"Fine." the taller male huffed, "It's rare for you to stand up for yourself, so I won't spoil myself today."

Oh that's good...Eh?

"Wait…" the shorter asked, confused, "What do you mean by 'spoil yourself'-"

"I meant the newest 'Forest and Moon' update, of course!" Haizaki pouted indignantly-a somewhat strange expression when you combine it with his hairstyle and his general aura-as his cheeks puffed up, "do you have any idea how much I loved that series? I actually went through the time and trouble of dealing with a bunch of judgmental pricks at the bookstore to buy every volume since it came out, and I don't even get to look at a leaked draft of these two fuc-I mean, going at it for the first time."

"I'm fine, though."The cornrowed man fluttered his eyelids sadly and stared off into nothing, "That's totally fine. It's your right. I'm not sad or anything-Even though Azuki and Moritaka are finally doing it and I don't get to see it-I'm fine. Just somewhat emotionally broken." He turned his body and buried his face in the couch. "Seriously, how could you leave both 'My Manager can't be this Cute' and "The Forest and the Moon' on a cliffhanger, and not expect me-or any other decent fan-to jump out of a building when there's a leaked draft? You've been so productive lately, with all these interesting stories and plot twists and that gorgeous, gorgeous mugshot of our favorite idols at the end...Ah, but you're right, it's your work and you decide what to do with it...but that doesn't stop my heart from bleeding when the prize is dandled in front of me, kay? I'd do anything to see these two happy, even though I do care about your happiness more-"

What...the...

Warning: Furihata exe. is responding slower than usual due to the massive amount of information he received from that rant.

(Although to be fair, it's not a lot of information. It's just that Furihata didn't expect any of it.)

After a couple of seconds, Furihata put two and two together and almost screamed.

"Haizaki-kun... you not only read yaoi, but are also my fan?!"

"OF COURSE I AM?!" The elder boy yelled as he flipped himself over, knocking over some more papers in the process as his entire skin flushed, "Wha-Of course I am! I have been following you since your debut, and have read every single work of yours until I could recite the plot backwards! I can't say I spent money on them all…" He stared at Furihata, "Wait."

Haizaki opened his mouth as, for the first time, the info finally hit him.

"F-Furihata Kouki i-i-is Furiha Kou. I-I am dating my favorite artist." the older male breathed, falling back into the couch, "O-o-oh god…"

Furihata couldn't do anything but let out a wry smile.

"I-I got really lucky didn't I?"Haizaki grabbed his hair and laughed exhaustedly, as if he had just finished a marathon: "I-I really should have brought something for you to sign with-here," He reached behind the sofa cushions, removing a pen, "take this."

Furihata caught it, and the brunette frowned.

"Sharpie ultra-thick?"

"Leave your mark on me, sensei. Make it nice, big, and dark-put it where everyone can see, so that the whole world would know how I feel about you."

…

Okay then?

Furihata took the sharpie and made a little signature on Haizaki's forearm. To be honest, it's a bit shakier than usual since 1, he's a bit nervous and 2, an arm's usually not his preferred stationary, but his signature's illegible either way so he's satisfied. A strange kind of dread built up as he asked: "So...Y-you're not disgusted by the thought of a man drawing...this kind of stuff?"

"Why would I be?" Haizaki raised an eyebrow, "Where's the problem? Like, if girls can draw two men making out, then a man should be able to do the same."

A heavy stone landed in Furihata's stomach; the echo simultaneously comforted him, and made him feel more dread than he has ever felt in his life.

"Honestly," the elder male shrugged, "does it matter that much? Regardless of gender, you make good art, and I appreciate it; regardless of what you do to support your family, you're a cool guy, and I appreciate that too."

The dread began to spread. Unlike what he felt when his backpack fell, this particular kind of dread does not rush adrenaline through his arteries and turn his head blank. He does not scream; instead, the dread eats him alive, encroaches on his body from the inside out, shrinking his veins and eating his conscience up bit by bit, and looking at Haizaki's smile, Furihata felt it. The hurt that man would feel in the future.

The process starts today.

"So I don't take issue with it...but ahh!" Haizaki looked up into the ceiling, stroking his practically non-existent beard in what looked like contemplation, "It still feels a bit surreal; I'm dating my favourite author, but it's you, so...what should I consider you? My boyfriend, or my beloved sensei? I don't know how to feel about this."

Furihata doesn't know how to feel either, Haizaki. If only you had been disgusted with me, the shorter boy thought blankly, this would have been the perfect opportunity for a breakup. Sure, you'd tell the entire neighborhood, and my reputation would be ruined, but no feelings would be hurt, right? You'd be fed up with me, and I'd have a rightful reason to break up with an asshole-

But in the end, not only weren't you disgusted, you supported me. You told me that I shouldn't be ashamed of my talent, that you loved my work enough to spend money on it.

You're my fan. You're a decent guy. You confessed to me, and I accepted it even though I didn't feel the same.

For the first time in this relationship, Furihata felt that he had done an awful thing.

On the smooth sailing train, a fuzzy hat covered Furihata's face as the smaller brunette's chest breathed rhythmically up and down, carrying the sunglasses on his head with it. No artificial lights were turned on in the morning car, and the natural sunlight shone in with full force; it's warm, yet it's not the height of day yet so even though the entire car glowed like the fresh linen that lined it, there was no increase in temperature.

Softly, the light bounced off of glossy white tables, and Haizaki was reading a manga (not telling you by which author) in the midst of the chit-chatting atmosphere when he looked out the side of his eye.

Furihata was wrinkling his eyebrows and biting his lip. When Haizaki took a closer look, the smaller male was crying and choking on his breath. Worried, he quickly shook him awake.

He asked: "Furi? Hey, Furi, are you okay?"

Blinking, Furihata sluggishly opened his half-asleep eyelids and was greeted by the sight of fellow trainriders appreciating the view. The gentle light did not hurt his newly opened eyes, and yawning, Furihata managed to glared a little at his companion.

"I could have used the sleep, Haizaki-kun" he said.

"Hey!" the other teen put up his hands up in defense. "It was for your own good!"

"Oh really."

"You looked like you were in pain just then...Are you okay now?"

At Haizaki's words Furihata stilled, before reaching a hand towards his eyes and wiping away a tear. Smearing out the transparent liquid on his fingertip, he looked a bit guilty, like that wasn't supposed Haizaki was supposed to witness. "Don't worry about it." the brunette eventually laughed awkwardly, "It's nothing big."

"Ya sure?"

"I'm positive. Must be from all the stress I'm feeling lately."

Haizaki frowned as Furihata got up and stretched beside him. Something's telling him that what the younger teen told him was a complete lie, but he didn't have the energy to overthink it as the train became suddenly turbulent with personnel moving in and out of the car. "Is it really that bad?" He replied, raising an eyebrow, "The thing with those rainbowheads? Listen, I will make sure that-"

"I'm fine." The brunette chuckled, "If they touch me you'll give them hell, right? Thanks...even though I'm sure it won't come to that."

Actually, he's not. These guys were pretty angry with him, and they're hormonal teenage boys, what do you expect?

Oh, by the way, later that day when Haizaki figured out that Furihata will be attending this convention, he volunteered-meaning that Kouki didn't do anything, kay-to do anything Furihata asked for in exchange for a ticket. Since he had an extra ticket, Furihata figured it wouldn't hurt to bring him along and put the extra ticket to good use, so he took the deal and told him about what happened in Maji Burgers that day, and...the guy's tall, fierce, and Furihata could really use a bodyguard, so why not?

"Oh, by the way, is that a new hairstyle?" inquired Furihata, changing the topic as he noted the older male's new hairstyle. Instead of black cornrows, straight, but stubbornly rough silver hair now jutted all about the older boy's face, and some effort was clearly put into arranging the locksA couple of strands jutted out in front his forehead, and the younger reached out to touch it.

His hand was slapped away. "Yeah." The other man replied, "You like it? Don't touch it, though-I don't like it when people touch my hair."

Furihata does. It takes the thuggish air away from him and makes the tall guy almost...cute.

"It's cute." the brunette replied.

The cornrow-no longer cornrowed, but silver-haired male looked away. "Thanks." He muttered, "I would have preferred 'hot' but 'cute' would do too. What is the time anyway?"

Furihata looked down, and a quick glance at his cellphone said 8:07. "It's eight already," the brunette replied, letting out another yawn as he thought about the amount he slept, "so we're arriving in a little less than twenty minutes. I should be waking up anyway, thanks."

Haizaki shrugged. "Oh, don't worry about it." He replied, nonchalantly, "If you're really thankful you could always let me read your drafts before you publish them..."

The brunette let out a awkward laugh as he momentarily took off his sunglasses to wipe them. Seconds after his eyes were exposed to the unfiltered light, someone grabbed his shoulder and the small male didn't even have the chance to be surprised before he came face to face with another short brunette around his age.

Most of the guy's brown hair was covered by a leopard print fedora, and thick, rainbow brimmed glasses framed his hazel-coloured eyes. He had a rather fair face-talking about both skin tone and features here-but a crease had settled between his light brows, possibly suggesting that the individual had a habit of frowning or apologizing. He's wearing metallic gold skinny jeans and a highlighter yellow jacket, and-

"Furihata-kun?" The other asked, "Is that you?"

-God that outfit is the ugliest he had ever seen in his life. But anyway, his hand was firm against Furihata's shoulder, and aside from the glasses, this face looks a bit familiar-

Wait, that voice.

"Furihata-kun, what are you doing here?"

Furihata pulled back and at the familiar sight, screamed: "...Sakurai?!"

It's 8:10 in the morning, and smooth jazz played in the background while shoppers' chatter slipped through the transparent glass walls. But otherwise, the quaint Starbucks was quiet with the buzz of Saturday morning coffee. The unfortunate Barista who was stuck with this shift yawned into her hand and brushed a hand through her loosely tied ponytail; looking a bit bored, since not a lot of customers needed her help right now. Sitting cross-legged on one of the creamy leather chairs, Seijuurou silently observed his companion while said companion warmed his cold hands with green tea.

Green tea and nothing else, because Midorima Shintarou was never one to handle caffeine or milk.

He looks a bit out of it today, the shorter noted in what is possibly the underestimation of the century: The taller teen's staring into nothing, he's fumbling his words when he has to actually talk to people, and to make everything worse, he forgot to check Oha Asa-he didn't even remember that he had forgotten until Seijuurou reminded him. None of this ever happened unless he was troubled (and for the last one, it never happened, period). And sitting here today, he's retreating more into himself than usual.

The redhead sighed and took a sip from his dark roast.

He's not stupid; he knows that Shintarou could only be this way for one person.

Takao Kazunari hadn't talked to Shintarou since their last meeting at Maji Burgers. It was as if, on that day, the Shutoku point guard just decided that Shintarou was the plague and that he didn't want anything to do with him anymore. He stopped studying with him for exams (not that Shintarou ever got anything out of them, as far as Seijuurou knew), ignored him during practice, and even though he came to Akashi's mansion last night as per the promise, he went out of his way to spend an extra 4000 yen just so that he'd be on Shintarou's unlucky train for the day.

And now that he's here and had to actually acknowledge Shintarou's existence at times, Takao kept any interaction they had as curt and cold as possible (as if they weren't "best friends" just a month prior to this), preferring instead to ferret into other people's matters while Shintarou retreated even more into the shell of loneliness and fake indifference that had comforted him during the Teiko days.

Being his friend, Seijuurou knew that the green-haired male is blaming himself more than anyone; he's so confused and so desperate, but he'd never admit any of it to himself or anyone else.

And if you asked the redhead what he thought about all of this, he'd say that he's planning to skin Takao alive. The thought of his ex-teammate, his friend being emotionally tortured by someone he trusted, someone the seemingly cold person had gone so far as to call his best friend is just that infuriating to him, and last night, Seijuurou just barely held back from asking:

How dare he do this?

How dare he go through the tedious process of earning Shintarou's trust, and then to use it against him?

How dare he call Shintarou his "best friend", yet not understand how much such matters hurt him?

Seijuurou didn't know why Takao's doing this, or why Shintarou's so upset over him, but whatever reason he might have, this is unacceptable.

"Look," the redhead offered, catching Shintarou's green eyes for the first time since they got here, "Would it be helpful if I talked to Takao?"

The taller didn't say anything.

"It appears that he's quite important to you, and his recent...actions have hurt you quite significantly."

Shintarou turned his head back down towards his tea, focusing instead on how the leaves floated about the green liquid beneath the barely visible orifice. Seijuurou eyed him hopelessly.

"He's coming to the convention today, is he not? I could talk to him then."

The taller male looked up briefly but quickly returned to his original position, silent. He stared at the mist rising from his drink, and finally muttered: "...I-I don't know.".

"Shintarou, please, things can't go on like this. Either some misunderstanding had taken place, or he's simply not worthy of the affection you had previously given him. Please, let me take care of this."

"B...but I…"

"But what, Shintarou?" Seijuurou asked patiently, a rare desperation leaking through his usually controlled voice, "Let me help, please."

The teacup held in long fingers released its aromatic fragrance into the Starbucks atmosphere, and the man's blank expression did not change as he continued to fumble with it, his expression unreadable. Silently, the pair sat.

The background music began to switch from jazz to cheesy pop music.

After a couple of minutes in silence, the green-haired man muttered out a reply: "I don't think that will help anything, Akashi."

"Why?".

Shintarou looked to his side, bangs and glasses conveniently obfuscating any thoughts he had.

"Akashi…I don't know anything, but...I'm thinking that the problem might not be with Takao here. I-I think it has to do with me and my jumbled feelings...and the fact that I'm dating you-"

He fingered the side of his cup, and Seijuurou raised an eyebrow.

"...You mean he doesn't like me?" he raised his voice, waking the sleepy barista up with the barely concealed menace in it, "What kind of friend takes issue with someone dear to them finding happiness?"

"Akashi, I-"

"If he had an issue with me, then he ought to talk to me, not take it out on you. Plus, he doesn't have a right to be angry here. You two weren't dating, were you?"

How dare Takao Kazunari masquerade as a friend, and then hurt him?

What kind of a friend is that?

If your support for someone is only based on their attention being devoted entirely to you, then don't even pretend to support them in the first place! Why? Because it's not that person you care about, it's your own pathetic feelings. You don't really care about their happiness and how they feel, you just want to say you care because it makes you feel good.

What could be more selfish than that?

"I'm talking to Takao about this, and that's final. No buts." Seijuurou declared, harshly slamming his coffee cup into the table, making a clanking sound against painted wood, "He needs to understand the gravity of the situation-"

"Don't do that, Akashi." Shintarou interrupted.

"What-"

"Please don't." Shintarou's eyes were unreadable when they met heterochrome, "I know you're doing this out of kindness, but I want to sort this out on my own."

"But-"

"No buts, please." the green-haired man let out a wry smile, "this is between Takao and I...and no one else."

Seijuurou stared at him disbelievingly. Shintarou stared back.

Some wordless arguing took place between the two as business picked up in the Starbucks. Seijuurou pushed for a talk with Takao, and Shintarou said no. In the end Shintarou won, and the redhead let out a disgruntled sigh as he fell back into his chair, giving a "do what you want" shrug to Shintarou while shaking his head on the inside.

Right, Seijuurou thought begrudgingly as he gulped his coffee (not a good idea since it's still hot), like Midorima Shintarou ever knew what to do in these situations. Remember in middle school when a girl almost guilted you into a relationship with a couple of pretty words? Who had to save you back then?

I'm talking to Takao, whether you like it or not.

The Touou member's eyes widened as he met Furihata's gaze.

"Oh my god!" He exclaimed, blinking, "It's really you! What are you doing here? I sat across from you all this time and didn't recognize you until you took your sunglasses off!"

God damn it, Furihata should have kept those glasses on.

"Judging from your getup you're here for the YaoiCon as an artist too, right?"

"Yeah-" Furihata asked, suddenly suspicious, "you said 'as an artist...too'?"

Sakurai sighed. "Well there's no point in hiding now-"he said, smiling cheekily and pointing at his fedora, "Yep, I'm a yaoi mangaka in business too! I know how tough it is, so don't worry-I'm not telling you off to anyone."

Man, Furihata really needs to up his concealment game; three people have found about his secret already, and they're all nice...but that's beyond the point. He shouldn't have to rely on others to not embarrass himself.

Quietly berating himself, the boy figured he might as well take his hat off too-it's hot here, and what are the chances of another person knowing him in this train? The Touou student, too, took off his hat and reached for a water bottle.

"What's your pen name, Furihata-kun?" he asked as he twisted open the cap , "I'm guessing that you don't go by your real name? I mean, I apologize for not knowing it..."

Furihata paused. Then, he almost bursted out laughing in relief.

Sakurai doesn't know that I'm Furiha Kou! So he doesn't know that I-ashamedly-ship everyone I know and draw oneshots about Imayoshi getting gangbanged by an entire school because I can't stand him-everything's going to be fine, unless someone gives away that I'm Furiha Kou.

"He goes by Furiha Kou." Haizaki interjected from the side, raising an eyebrow, "Do you know him by any chance?"

…

Damn it, Haizaki.

The water bottle dropped to the floor and Sakurai's mouth turned into an "o".

A transparent liquid subsequently gushed out of the bottle, and a couple of passengers curiously glanced at it as the owner bent down to clean it up with a quick apology. As he reached for a napkin to dab the water stains with, Sakurai looked up at Furihata and smirked.

"...I thought you looked strange at Maji Burgers when we talked about him." He said, "So it's not just me being paranoid about how every character looked like someone I know, especially the creepy antagonists."

Furihata wanted to bury himself alive.

"Makes sense, though-Furiha Kou, Furihata Kouki." Sakurai scooted closer to the other brunette, still smiling, "So, then, do you and Akashi-"

The Seirin boy's hands shot up to cover his ears as a gossipy grin climbed onto Sakurai's usually apologetic face.

LA LA LA LA LA, nope, he can't hear anything, LA LA LA LA.

Sitting on the other side, the oldest teen squinted his eyes, confused by this whole display:"So wait, do you know him?"

The Touou student huffed. "Well, you might as well ask an American if they knew who Beyonce was-of course I do! Furiha Kou, the rising star of school boy romance, the ultimate experimenter, the creative genius who blurs realism and fantasy, making real life more exciting with his works-"

"Stop it!" Furihata cried.

"Is he famous?"

"Of course!"

"Oh wow!" Haizaki's his eyes lit up, "So I'm not the only one who thinks he's amazing?"

"Of course not!" Sakurai grinned. He wagged his eyebrow at the previous Seirin point guard, "I'm a big fan!"

"B-B-BUT!" Furihata cried, "Y-You didn't say anything when we sat around in a circle while everyone talked of beating me up!"

Sakurai jolted up from the floor, and suddenly looked like he was going to cry.

"S-S-SORRY I COULDN'T STAND UP FOR YOU!" he made a 90 degree bow, to no specific person in a moving train, to the other brunette's alarm, "Y-You know how Aomine was! I was scared out of my mind that he'd hurt me if he found out, so I couldn't say a thing to support you-"

Haizaki's smile froze.

"...You were there when those fucking rainbowheads threatened him, yet didn't stand up for him even though you're in the same situation?" he hissed slowly, giving the Touou student a glare that would have sent Satan running back to his mommy as he did so, "what are you, a wimp?"

"It's okay, it's okay!" Furihata hurriedly tried to pull Sakurai up from his bowing position, giving Haizaki a disapproving look in the process, "It couldn't be helped anyway! The awkward situation already happened, not to mention that you, of all people, had nothing to do with it in the first place! That comment wasn't even directed at you!"

"Really…?"

"Yep!" Furihata narrowed his gaze at the older teen again, who shrugged and picked up his manga. When the other brunette finally sat back in his seat, condition stable, the Seirin point guard inquired: "So...What name do you go by in the business, Sakurai-kun?"

Wiping his tears, the other brunette chuckled. "Guess."

"Uh...Ryo Sakura?"

"Hmm...Nope, love her works but I'm not her. Even though we do have very close names and...somewhat? similar styles."

"huh." Furihata blinked, "...Saku Rai?"

"I don't know who that is-try again. Here's a hint: I do a couple of manga based off of the Generation of Miracles as well, though not as many as you do."

Furihata knitted his eyebrows together as he tried to recall any individual with names like Sakurai's. Sakugyo Ryouai? No...That person almost exclusively does Guro and Scat Teletubby doujins (don't search that up, and don't ask where he finds these things), and is confirmed to be a woman in her late 40s with 3 children, which leaves…

No, Sakurai can't possibly be that stupid.

"...Sakurai-kun," Furihata asked hesitantly, ready to slap himself over his stupidity anytime now, "you don't actually...go by 'Sakurai Ryou', right?"

"Bingo!" Sakurai replied.

WHAT.

He awkwardly scratched his head, "Wow, I'm surprised you read my works!" He said touchedly, I'm nowhere as talented as you are-my sales are abysmal, and I can't even treat myself to meat with the amount I make per week...I have no idea why I'm even invited to this, to be honest."

Well, if you ask Furihata, he's actually quite talented. Sakurai Ryou's art style is unique-if not a bit strange at first glance-but it works absolute wonders when expressing a character's feelings and personality the way words cannot. His stories have a tendency to fall back on stereotypes and cliches yet the unique art style, background, emotional buildup and the little nuances always place the reader at the scene and give each series an interesting kick. More than once, Furihata found himself completely engrossed in the other's works even though he knew exactly what would happen by the second page.

That's pretty impressive, and something Furihata tried (and failed) to emulate in his own works.

(However, to be honest; since his plots are so basic and foreseeable, his works don't really leave much of an impression. It does its job at making you happy, but they're the type of manga that you'd find on a manga hosting site, read for free, and enjoy but will be reluctant to pay for.

Here, for example:

Aomine-sensei is a history teacher at a local high school, and Wakamatsu-sensei is a gym teacher working at the same place. The two appear to be drastically different, but-! They have one thing in common that's very relevant to the plot, and what is it?

They're both gay!

And of course, the two kinda bonded over that. The story began with drunk Aomine bitching in Wakamatsu's house about how his boyfriend dumped him for a woman. At the top of his lungs, Aomine screamed "just you watch, my ass definitely feels tighter than hers" before he, unable to hold it back anymore, broke down and cried.

Now what did Wakamatsu, the good seme, do? Of course he went to comfort his uke.

And of course, by "comfort" he meant "offering up my body even though no one asked for it".

Horrified, Aomine rejected the deal and hooked up with someone else the next day. Wakamatsu was upset about this, and was very awkward about his disapproval; he and Aomine proceed to have this big, cuss-filled screaming match in front of the whole school, and for a couple of weeks, Aomine went out with the guy he hooked up with while refusing to talk to Wakamatsu at school.

Why were they not fired? Manga Logic. Now, what happened next?

Some good old misunderstanding and drama, of course!

Aomine's ignoring Wakamatsu, but he's also silently stalking him because he loves him. One day, after school, he finds a female student handing Wakamatsu a letter and gets stupidly jealous. He confronts Wakamatsu, and as he gets more and more emotional talking about the other's "sins", Wakamatsu shuts him up by forcing a kiss. Aomine then realizes that it's Wakamatsu that he loves.

Wakamatsu then confesses, and the two have sex a panel later in the storage room. The story ends with a closeup of the female student's letter, which, unbeknown to Aomine, says "Wakamatsu-sensei, would it behoove you two to resolve your sexual tension and get a room already"?

End.)

(Oh man, now that he thought more about it Sakurai didn't even bother to change the names of his main characters…he just used different Kanji. Why isn't he the one that got found out by the rainbowheads instead?)

Sure, the guy could work a bit on how gay sex actually works (possibly "experiment" a bit more with himself) and play with more types of relationship dynamics-but otherwise, Sakurai Ryou's style and characterization could very well grow into a branch of its own.

But wait, that's not what he's concerned about here!

"Are you nuts?" Furihata stared incredulously, earning a raised eyebrow from Haizaki as well, "Using your real name? Aren't you afraid that those guys in your school will find out? Especially Aomine-kun?"

Sakurai guiltily chuckled. "I didn't know anything, okay? I got into this industry when I was really young. Like, my first year in middle school young-because my mom works in this publishing firm, and don't ask why she's fine with her son drawing men doing it each other, I don't know-but anyway, the young I was adamant on using my real name, even though my mom advised against it. I don't know why in retrospect but eh, it's not a big deal."

"Why didn't you change it?" Furihata said.

"I thought about it, but nah, not worth it." Sakurai shrugged, "I don't want to risk confusing my fans, however little there might be. Plus, as I had come to learn over the years, people aren't as smart as you think they are."

Furihata was unconvinced.

"Look, 'Furiha Kou' isn't that different from 'Furihata Kouki', right?" Sakurai chuckled, meekly, "If this is a manga we'd be screwed, but...I'm guessing no one has suspected you out of nowhere yet, right? No one has suspected me either-I mean, this is real life after all, where coincidences happen. One time Aomine literally brought in a gangbang book I made with Imayoshi-san as the main character, and started laughing about how much the author's name resembled mine. I never denied anything, but it never crossed Aomine-kun's mind in the first place that I might be the author of that book-"

Furihata was still unconvinced.

"Granted, Aomine Daiki is a special level of stupid, but my point still stands."

The train slowly eased itself into the station as the two talked back and forth. With a jolt it finally stopped, and a classy voice informed the passengers that they have arrived at their destination. Some of the passengers rose upon this cue to retrieve their bags, towering over those that remained seated. However, Furihata pulled on Haizaki's shirt when the elder tried to do the same-subtly suggesting that he sit down for now.

After a majority of the people had left the vehicle, Sakurai grabbed the backpack sitting beneath his feet and stood up. Refusing Haizaki's help, Furihata, too, managed to pull his backpack from the top container all on his own. He wobbled a little as the surprisingly heavy weight fell on him (must be all these giveaways he's packing), and Haizaki offered to help again, but Furihata shook his head with a smile. Standing beside them, Sakurai wordlessly observed the two.

As they exited the train with the last of the passengers, the Touou student pulled Furihata closer and whispered-his voice was slow and hesitant at first, as if he didn't know whether he should speak: "...Hey, Furihata-kun, can I ask you a...somewhat personal question?"

"Uh…"

The addressed hesitated before replying:

"...sure, what is it?"

The Touou shooter shot a quick glance at Haizaki before turning back to Furihata. "U-uh," he stuttered nervously, "y-you don't have to answer this if you really don't want to, but, uh...I mean, I'm curious, since you turned out to be Furiha-sensei and all-"

Sakurai paused, and Haizaki turned his head back to give the two a curious glance; the older teen had headed on before them, keeping enough distance to give the two mangakas some private space without losing sight of them.

Eventually Haizaki turned his head back, and Sakurai let out the breath he had been holding all this time. He continued, voice still shaky with hesitation: "I mean, uhh...i-if you really drew these works, and they feature couples you think should be together, then…um...you and A-, um, I mean..."

"What is it?" Furihata pretended to encourage, even though he's getting a bad feeling about this, "D-Don't be afraid…"

"I...I won't tell anyone-this is just for curiosity, I promise!"

"O-Okay…Y-You're scaring me, Sakurai-kun..."

"I-I-I just want to know y-y-you and t-that guy..."

"W-what guy?"

Sakurai opened his mouth, but quickly bit his lips and turned his head away.

After some thought, the Touou student sighed, stayed silent for a while, and, with a vague pout, turned his head back. He eventually asked"...Do you genuinely think that Aomine-kun's a uke, even when paired with me?"

...Huh?

Realizing something incriminating in what he had just said, the other brunette widened his eyes before shaking his head vehemently. "N-not that I'm especially ukeish or anything! You drew a manga with me as the seme to Aomine, right? Although he's not the person I like the most I… I'm just surprised that someone would share my appreciation for Bottom!Aomine!"

Ahh, ships.

A nice, peaceful way to start a conversation.

"Well...not a total uke but", Furihata chuckled, a dark grin climbing onto his face, "I personally feel that everyone's exaggerating how tough the guy is. I mean, that childish temper, that tendency to misrepresent people's intentions, that high-and-mighty attitude for god's sake-I mean, he works pretty well as a tsundere too, don't ya think?"

"I know right?" The Touou student looked down for a second, before he shrugged and lit up again at Furihata's words, "The guy reiterates at every opportunity he gets that he LOOOOVES breasts-even makes it a point to bring Horitaka Mai's magazine everywhere he goes, regardless of whether he even has an opportunity to look at it in the middle of practice-but can't keep his eyes away when there's a good looking guy around! Like, did you see his face when he played against Kise?"

"That borderline orgasmic expression?"

"Did he not ignore the existence of every other human being, including his teammates, when that blonde was on the court? And not only that-do you have any idea how much Aomine talks about him and Kuroko off the court? It would have darn annoying if I didn't ship them, but...well, anyway, I've heard the story about how Kise joined the basketball because of him at least 50 times this year, and that's a conservative estimate, considering that I'm in his class...yet he keeps insisting that Mai-chan's his goddess and Kise's just an annoying dog! I feel bad for Kise just listening to his denial!"

"Oh wow," Furihata's eyes widened with surprised, and he laughed, "he's really trying to push his 'manly' image, isn't he? It looks like he using girls as a facade for his real sexuality-which, as the older brother of two females, is a little bit of a crappy thing to do. But seriously, this guy still thinks he's the top of the top with so much denial?"

The other brunette sighed. "Forgive him, Furihata-kun. Everything about him just screams 'uke in denial'. But hey, if he still insists that 'no one can top me except for me', I mean… What can we do?" Sakurai winked innocently, "We all know what happens to guys who say that-right?"

The two brunettes simultaneously smirked.

Aomine suddenly shivered in the middle of Kyoto. It's spring, and combined with how his anus suddenly started itching as well this is anything but a good omen-given, ya know, where he's about to go. Suspicious, he jostled the redhead sitting to the right of him. "Kagami," He grunted, "you better not be badmouthing me to these burgers."

Cheeks stuffed, Kagami turned towards him and stared confusedly as he chomped on a pancake..

Kuroko frowned. "Aomine-kun." he asked, putting his cup down on the red and white tablecloth, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." The tanned male sighed irritatedly, slinging his hand over the back of his chair and rocking himself back and forth, "just a bit bothered with the bloody wanker we're going to be beating up today."

The light-haired male sighed and sipped his chocolate milkshake (because they didn't have vanilla). "We are not going to beat anyone up today, Aomine-kun." He said disapprovingly, shaking his head, "The most we're going to get is a conversation."

"B-but Tetsu! Aren't you pissed off at how that bastard turned us into gay anime porn?"

"Well, I don't mind, really." Kuroko shrugged, shaking his cup to get the last bit of milkshake, "it's not illegal to base stories off of people you know, and the art's done well. I'm impressed. Plus I don't think Akashi's dad will be okay with us tarnishing his event for such an inconsequential reason."

Aomine deflated. "Oh yeah, that makes sense." He admitted, "Although-can you believe that Akashi's dad actually looked like...you know, that? I thought he'd be some sort of scary dude with flaming red hair, breathing down Akashi's neck."

"He was much nicer than I thought he'd be, although I'm a little crept out by the how hard he's trying to make conversation with people less than half his age. Still, I don't think it's done out of ill intentions."

"He even let us into the kitchen."

"Yes. However, I didn't like the way the cooks cried in front of Kagami-kun's face."

The redhead's head flipped over at the sound of his name, and, upon seeing his current light, the light-haired male let out an indulgent smile. Aomine felt a twinge of jealousy for no reason at all.

"Well, I'd react the same way if someone came into my house and depleted a week's worth of ingredients in one meal, and still said it wasn't enough." he argued as he flopped onto the table with a thud, earning a glare from Kagami before turning back to eat some more pancakes. Aomine snorted, "Hey hey Tetsu, so you think Akashi the older can pull some strings and get Furiha-sensei in trouble if he knew his son's featured in gay anime porn?"

"Once again, I'm afraid I do not understand your hatred towards Furiha-sensei, Aomine-kun. I don't really object to being portrayed this way."

Blinking, Aomine's brain froze for a second before his jaw dropped. Jumping out of his chair, he screamed and pointed accusedly at the smaller teen. "W-wait a second!" He awkwardly coughed out, in an attempt to calm himself, "Y-you're not really, uh…"

Kuroko rolled his eyes. "Sit down, Aomine-kun." He said.

The tanned male wanted to say something more, but one glare from Kuroko shut him up and he obediently returned to his seat. When he sat down, the shorter teen snapped: "I might be homosexual, I might not be. Deal with it. And stop acting like a middle schooler, Aomine-kun-it's not the end of the world, no one will think less of YOU for it."

"Uh…" Aomine glanced around nervously, before leaning in and whispering, "U-uh, you know, if you keep on saying things like that I might...I might get the wrong idea, you know? Like, I might think that you find me attractive or something, HAHA-"

"I'm not particularly bothered by your insinuation."

"I-I!" A blush climbed onto Aomine's face, before he quickly turned away and huffed, "W-well you should! I-I-I am the straightest of the s-straights, and I'd never prefer you, or Kagami, or Kise over Mai-chan! I d-d-don't even find you guys hot! Nope, not at all!"

Kagami finished his pile of burgers and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Glancing in the direction of the windows, he signaled toward the figure with a nudge of his head. "Hey," he whispered, "Is Takao okay?"

There sat the Shuutoku point guard, quietly nursing a can of red bean soup as he forlornly looked out the glass window; some boys and girls waddled by, giggling on the street across from him, and, occasionally, one would stop and flourish their chubby hands at him. When this happened the teen always forced a smile and waved back, but when the kids turn away, his face fell back into the pure blankness as the world of silence returns.

He dangled his legs on a tall chair by the window. It's a beautiful morning on a beautiful day, even though some glass-clad buildings blocked the sun from shining through, and rendered the street a cool grey; beneath them, a silver Toyota sedan drove in from the left of his view, and a white Honda followed behind it. Both passed by a rainbow-colored sign that read "YaoiCon this way! 8=D." in bold, Word Art font, and Takao stared at the words for a very long time before finally turning down to look at his phone instead.

Most people have cute animals, designs, or selfies set as their phone wallpaper. Aomine has Mai-chan, Kuroko has Nigou, Kagami-as you'd expect-has a basketball, and Takao's desktop was Midorima.

"The guy was so intent on coming with us, but he hasn't spoken a word with us the second we left Akashi's house." Aomine complained, pushing his cheeks up as he leaned into his hand, "Hah, can this guy get any more awkward."

Kagami nodded. "What's with him ignoring Midorima, too? It's so strange seeking these two separate and not together," the tiger said, "Maybe it's just me, but I'm not used to this."

"Both Aomine-kun and Kagami-kun are stupid." Kuroko stated.

"Hey!"

The two taller males simultaneously glared at Kuroko, who pushed aside his milkshake cup and sighed. "Well, granted, Takao-kun's not much smarter." the small teen lamented, "He should know better than to act like a first grader and run from his problems instead of dealing with them head on."

"What do you mean, Tetsu?" Aomine asked.

"Midorima-kun's at fault too," Kuroko continued, "though I will give him a break since he's never been good with his feelings-I don't proclaim to know what's going on in his head, but it's pretty obvious that there's some mismatch going on among them."

"O-oi, Kuroko!" Kagami waved a hand in front of the smaller's face, "can you explain to us what's going on!"

Kuroko promptly ignored him.

"Still, Takao-kun is being childish and hurting Midorima-kun. I had thought that he would be the smarter one out of the two, but I suppose that they're matched in their awkwardness...I wonder if Akashi-kun would be the first notice something wrong here."

"Kagami, I don't think Tetsu's hearing us here…"

"Yeah, he's a bit lost in his own world."

"Maybe not, since he can be incredibly stupid as well-ah, it feels quite pleasant to finally say that without him watching me-but oh, it looks like a lot of people are stupid around me. Or maybe I'm the one that's stupid and not making any sense here."

"Beep, Beep, Earth to Kuroko: We have no idea what the fuck you're talking about here."

"Be quiet, Kagami-kun." Kuroko stated as he grabbed his backpack, "Someone out there does."

The three walked to the cash register to pay for their meal, and Aomine averted his eyes from the bill as to not get a heart attack; in the process, he observed that Takao was still sitting by the window, blankly staring. For a second the tanned male wondered whether he should call out the Shuutoku point guard, but decided to let him be-after all, he looked like he had a lot to think about.

"You know," Kuroko mused aloud as the three walked out of the restaurant, "I wonder what sort of character Furiha-sensei would make out of Haizaki-kun if he knew him."

Aomine snorted. "What sort of character? I'd be darn surprised if he's anything but a dog-humping antagonist."

Maybe it's the sweat that he has accumulated in the short way between the train and the station, or maybe the air conditioning's too strong in the limestone building, or maybe it's the fact that the supposedly innocent Furihata had just made him feel bad for Aomine Daiki, of all people, but Haizaki was actively shivering as he walked into the train station.

"Wow." was all he could think of as the most stereotypical "welcome to Kyoto" sign came into view, "I'm really here. For a manga convention."

Unbeknownst to Furihata and Sakurai, the elder male had slipped his attention away from them (He left when they started discussing whether three dildos can fit in Aomine's anus or not) and into the dense crowd of people, too busy grinning at the "I 3 Yaoi" signs and chuckling at references to somewhat eclectic yaoi mangas to pay attention to exactly what they're going. Within a couple of minutes, his thoughts had languidly wandered across the alabaster floor, watching with mild interest as a couple individuals of the older generation fumbled with their phones, trying to find out what this "yaoi" is.

He tried not to snicker as Grandpa's face paled with terror and Grandma's eyes glowed.

To be honest, he didn't think that he's the type attend these things. He hated the annoying girls, the screaming, the way people dressed up to be someone else-or so he thought.

But now that he's actually here, he's pretty excited. It's surprisingly nice to have other people like what you like.

Ah, that kid's along and holding a rainbow-coloured unicorn. She has such pretty black eyes. They're familiar somehow...oh no, there's a bandaid over one of them, what happened?

Haizaki turned around to ask Furihata for his opinion and found him talking heatedly with the other kid, probably arguing over some ship and completely ignoring his existence. They looked like they were having fun and, again, for the fifteenth time today (he counted), Haizaki questioned why he's even here. Sure, Furiha-sensei needed a bodyguard, but why bring him? Aren't there better people he could ask instead of some gangster looking punk?

Yes, Furihata'd say that he's not a "gangster-looking" punk and that he's selling himself short, but Haizaki knows better. They don't argue, mostly because Furihata's pretty insistent on being "polite", but they're not that close either-they get along well, have a couple of things in common, but that's it. Nothing more.

Maybe you'd say this will change as they get to know each other, but-how does he say this?- there's no spark between them. They don't hate each other's guts, but…

Look how happy he is with the other kid. They just met.

He's never this happy with Haizaki.

Ya know, to think that Furihata's actually Furiha Kou, and that he's actually dating his sensei all this time feels a bit unreal. You might be thinking that Haizaki's lucky, and maybe he is, but...

It's so unreal he doesn't know how to feel-After all, your favorite manga writer's supposed to be someone you admire from afar, someone your check up on every week, not someone you see and smell and touch everyday. You're supposed to love them in secret, support them, and buy their works even though they don't know who you are and you don't know (or care) what they look like:

"Big brother?" The little girl asked, tugging at his shirt.

That knocked Haizaki out of his thoughts. He turned his head downwards to properly face the little girl, but as soon as he did so, the girl started crying.

What the-

Just as some passersby started to glare at him, a familiar face walked by. Briefly, for maybe a second, familiar black eyes meet grey. His hair got longer, Haizaki noted with unusual calm, but he was still recognizable.

Wait, was that?

Haizaki abruptly turned his head around to find that person again; however, he didn't see anything this time. Ignoring the little girl, he instinctively rotated his body a bit further toward the direction he thought the person went in and cried out:

"Wait!"

The girl beside him started crying even harder, and a couple more faces turned to stare at him in surprise, but none of them was the one he saw.

"Haizaki-kun." Furihata's voice came from behind him, a little worried as chocolate scanned the environment, "Are you okay? We lost you for a second-and oh hey, who are you? Are you lost?"

In the background, the other teen's voice grew louder and caught up with him. "Excuse me?" He screamed, "Do you think that just because Aomine's dick is bigger and his hole is a bit softer than Kagami's that he is incapable of-"

"They can switch, god damn it, now shut up!" Haizaki hissed. Grey eyes widened as perspiration built up and he tried to find that person again. "Nijimura…" he breathily asked, talking to no one in particular "is that you?"

"Eh? You found someone you knew?"

There's no way that he would hear him, even if, by some odd streak of fate, that they're here at the same time; an ocean of people surrounded them, gushing and shoveling all around, drowning them out. Every second, some newly-arrived traveler blocked some aspect of his view, and Haizaki turned his head anxiously, waiting for some sort of response.

Soon, it became clear that no one was going to respond.

Haizaki sighed, and resigned to take care of the little girl first. However, just as he was about to give up, one of the individual specks in the ocean turned back towards him.

"Haizaki?" Nijimura Shuuzou asked, more shocked than confused as their eyes met, "What are you doing in Kyoto?"

Fun fact: There is an actual Yaoi Mangaka named Sakurai Ryou. Google it-that's where I got the inspiration from.

Anyway, I apologize for the long wait and reiterate, again-the quality might not be consistent, but I will not give up. Thank you for reading up to this point, and please feel free to leave any thoughts, criticisms, or suggestions in a review!