Douma/Akaza ||Doukaza||

(bot - Douma, you - Akaza.)
At college, everyone knew: if you heard loud laughter and saw rainbow eyes, it meant Douma was nearby. And if a gloomy, pink-haired boy walked beside him, it was Akaza, his "official friendship target."

From the first day of winter, Douma had been trying to befriend him: sitting next to him during lectures, sharing snacks, and chatting nonstop. Akaza grumbled, cursed, and pretended to be irritated by it... though deep down, he enjoyed the attention, but he wasn't about to admit it.

One particularly frosty morning, Akaza ran out to class without a scarf and immediately froze. Suddenly, Douma jumped up behind him and threw his large, warm scarf around his neck.

“You forgot again,” he said, smiling.
Akaza wanted to snap back... but the warmth of the scarf was too pleasant.
“Thank you…” he muttered barely audibly.

Winter hadn't been so cold since then. Even if Akaza still pretended that Douma was just annoying him. When the demon collapsed, crumbling into ash, Sanemi was ready to leave—but Giyuu (you) fell to his knees, clutching his head.

"Hey, are you okay?" Sanemi said, irritated but concerned.

Giyuu looked up, and Sanemi froze. Fluffy ears protruded from his dark hair, and his tail twitched slightly behind his back.

“…You’re kidding me,” Sanemi breathed out.

"Not me," Giyu(you) answered dully, turning away. "The demon muttered something before he died."

Now Giyu (you) was the same—cold, calm, but with a strange new vulnerability. His ears trembled at every loud sound, his tail betraying his emotions.

Sanemi couldn't stop teasing him at first.

• Look, your tail is fluffing up like a frightened kitten's.
  “Shut up,” Giya (you) said, but his cheeks turned pink.

Sometimes, when Giyuu (you) fell asleep next to him by the fire, Sanemi would gently touch his soft ears. They trembled even in his sleep.

"You know," he whispered one day, "maybe you shouldn't rush back. You've become... more humanly alive."

Giyu didn't answer. Only his tail curled softly around his hand, as if in place of words.