Chika spent the entire night tossing and turning, his sheets becoming a tangled mess as he stared at the ceiling. I know I like him, he admitted to the empty room, his face heating up in the dark. But the dude is seriously weird. A test subject? He's treating me like a specimen.
He groaned, rolling onto his side. Is this really how intelligent people process feelings? It wasn't like the movies at all. There were no slow-motion moments or music; there was just a guy with a notebook and a very confused delinquent. It seems like Ishi doesn't really know what's going on either, Chika realized. That's why he's running all these tests. He's trying to solve a feeling like it's a math problem.
He wanted to tell him. He wanted to say, "Ishi, you don't need to examine me to get the results of your own feelings. You can just feel it." But the mere thought of saying something so sappy and raw made him want to bury himself under his mattress. How was he supposed to say that out loud without dying of embarrassment?
When he finally crawled out of bed the next morning, looking like a total zombie with dark circles under his eyes, he made a decision. He was going to tell Ishi. He was going to ask him if he felt the same way so they could stop wasting time with this nonsense research.
But as he walked to school, the 'how' part of the plan started to fall apart. Every scenario he imagined ended with him stuttering like an idiot.
And he also had to get Ishi alone to set the stage to begin with. Would he have to kidnap the model student to the rooftop again?
As he approached the school gates, he saw him. Ishi was standing perfectly straight by the stone pillar, his bag at his feet, already holding that small, dreaded notebook.
"Baseline check," Ishi said the second Chika was in range.
Before Chika could even mutter a "good morning," Ishi stepped in close. He didn't say a word as he reached out and pressed the back of his hand against Chika's forehead, then shifted it down to his cheek.
"You're warm," Ishi noted, his eyes narrowing as he peered through his glasses. "Did you sleep poorly? Or is this a localized reaction to my presence?"
"It's seven in the morning, Ishi! Give it a rest!" Chika groaned, trying to duck under Ishi's arm to get into the school courtyard.
"I cannot 'give it a rest' when the data is so inconsistent," Ishi replied, walking right alongside him and Chika groaned.
As they entered the crowded shoe-locker area, the space got tight. Normally, Chika would shove his way through, but today he felt like a deer in headlights.
Ishi leaned in, his shoulder brushing against Chika's as they reached their lockers. "Hold still."
"What now?" Chika hissed, his heart already starting that familiar, loud thumping.
Ishi didn't answer with words. Instead, he reached over and began adjusting Chika's collar, which was flipped up on one side. His fingers lingered at the base of Chika's neck, his thumb grazing the skin right over the pulse point.
Chika froze, his shoe halfway out of his locker. He could feel everyone watching. He could hear the whispers of the other students, but all he could actually focus on was the fact that Ishi's fingers were surprisingly cold, and yet they felt like they were burning him.
"Pulse is elevated," Ishi whispered, almost to himself. "Interesting. Even with a lack of sleep, the physical response remains high."
"Ishi, people are looking," Chika pleaded, his voice cracking. "Seriously, man, stop."
"Let them look," Ishi said, finally pulling his hand away and flipping his notebook open to jot something down. "Social pressure is another variable. I need to see if you react differently when we're alone versus when we're in a crowd."
He closed the notebook with a sharp snap. "I'll see you at the vending machines during the first break. I want to test tactile response during a sugar-induced state."
Chika watched him walk away, feeling like he'd just been hit by a truck. He leaned his head against the cold metal of his locker and let out a shaky breath.
'I'm an idiot,' he thought, the familiar insult feeling heavier than ever. 'I'm a total moron because I'm actually looking forward to that break.'
Well, he was a man with feelings. If the guy he liked told him they'd meet later, just the two of them, he would of course get excited and look forward to it.
Only, it wasn't exactly just the two of them if they were at the public vending machine, right?
Still... Chika had a lot on his mind. When could he tell Ishi about his thoughts?
...
When the bell for the first break finally rang, Chika tried to tell himself to go the opposite way. He should go to the gym or hide on the roof again. He should find another time to tell Ishi his thoughts, but his feet had other ideas.
He found himself walking toward the vending machines, and sure enough, Ishi was already there, holding two cans of strawberry milk.
Chika watched him for a while as Ishi waited for him, not knowing he was right there until he turned his head and spotted him.
"There you are," he said and Chika felt his blood go still.
"Uh, yeah," Chika answered, scratching the back of his head as he walked over with his hand in his pocket.
Ishi stretched one of the strawberry milk out and said, "Drink this,"
Chika looked at the milk and then at Ishi, his insides conflicted and being quite a pain in the ass.
He took the can, his fingers brushing against Ishi's. And then, he grabbed Chika's other hand.
Chika expected Ishi to let go, but the model student kept his hand wrapped over Chika's, steady and firm.
"Is the milk the variable?" Chika asked, his heart hammering against his ribs as he reeled on the contact. "Or is it you holding my hand like a weirdo?"
"Both," Ishi said, his eyes fixed on Chika's face. "Drink. I want to see if your pupils dilate when the glucose hits your system."
Chika stared at the can, and then glanced at Ishi, who was waiting with that intense researching stare, and then he quickly looked away.
His stomach was in knots. Now? Is now the time? He looked at the condensation on the can, his heart feeling like it was about to vibrate out of his chest.
He should just spit it out. What was the worst that could happen? Ishi would say "no," and they'd go back to being a delinquent and a model student who hated each other. That was better than being a 'variable' for Ishi to study for the rest of his life, right?
He took a breath, his thumb popping the tab of the milk. He didn't drink it yet. Instead, he gripped the can tighter and looked Ishi straight in the eye.
"Hey, Ishi," Chika muttered, his voice sounding way less cool than he wanted. "About this whole 'data' thing..."