#I NEED TO DRAW MORE OUMOTA. CRIES

[quinns-art-box]

i made these for the summer exchange hosted by @drv3giftexchangeclub for my good buddy @twunk-ouma :D!! another wonderful event i had a lot of fun with these teehee

[k2-b0]

"I like you."

Ouma's face burned as he held a heart stamped letter out to Saihara. His heart thumped wildly in his chest. What the hell was he even doing? Confessing his love behind the school building just like in one of those school life animes that Shirogane constantly cooed about?

God, he felt like an everyday schoolgirl. How embarrassing. He glanced up at the other boy from his bowing position, waiting anxiously for a response. Thank god patience is a virtue, because after an awkward pause Saihara slowly pulled the letter from his grasp and opened it, the tiny red sticker pulling away from the paper with a quiet ripping sound.

Ouma squeezed his eyes shut while his crush read the letter he'd written. It only existed because he was too scared to tell him through his spoken words. Typical of a coward like him. What was he even thinking? Saihara was way too cool and c-cute to actually like someone like him! Much less like-like!! Ahh, he sounded like Chabashira, going off like that! Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Ouma-kun..."

Was it too late to take it back? Could he just rewind time? He'd totally compared the situation to an anime earlier, so why couldn't he just pull a trick from one of them and go back?! Fuck, fuck!

"Ouma-kun."

Was suicide an option? No, that would be way too sudden. And to do it in front of Saihara-kun? No way!! Maybe he could--

"Ouma-kun!!"

Ouma blinked as the usually reserved boy yelled at him. Had he done something wrong? Oh, yikes, maybe he was mumbling all of that out loud? Was Saihara going to beat the shit out of him and call him slurs?

"Ouma-kun," Saihara said again, drawing Ouma from his thoughts. "This letter... is this really how you feel?"

The shorter boy swallowed thickly. What a direct question... "Y-Yes," he mumbled, "I... really like Saihara-kun. I was too scared to tell him out loud so I wrote a letter... a-and--“

"So Ouma-kun thinks of me in that way?" Saihara cut in. Ouma froze. Was this where the ridicule came in? Where Momota and Harukawa would jump out and say 'surprise! Loser! You just got pranked!' Ahh. But what else did he expect. The purple haired boy straightened his back out from the bow to look at Saihara on even grounds. Whatever. If he was going to get ridiculed he'd take it with pride.

Saihara put a hand to his face and flushed bright red. What? "So..." he said, "Ouma-kun thinks of me the same way as I do him?"

What.

"I-I'm sorry?" Ouma stuttered. "What was that?" He'd had to of heard wrong. There was no way...

"I really like Ouma-kun too..." Saihara said, still blushing. "I've wanted to tell you for so long but I was afraid... afraid that you would reject me. I'm so glad you feel the same way... now I can do what I've wanted to do for so long..."

Do what? Was Ouma's first thought. His second thought was along the lines of oh, holy shit, what?! His face went bright red as Saihara kissed him. The dark haired boy cupped his neck as he did it, gently tilting his head back and nibbling at his lips. Ouma gripped onto the other's gakuran and closed his eyes, perfectly returning the passionate kiss.

Saihara pulled away first, licking his lips as he lovingly stared Ouma in the eyes. "O-Ouma-kun..." he whispered, "let's get married."

Sakura blossoms blew in the wind around them and the sun shone vibrantly through the clouds in an orange glow. "O-Of course, Saihara-kun," he replied, "lets move to Canada and get married! We can be in love! Forget high school, we can teach ourselves through the power of love!"

"I agree!" Saihara cried, "we can be happy together! I love you, Ouma-kun!"

Ouma buried his head in Saihara's chest. "I love you too, Saihara-kun! Let's be together forever!"

Suddenly a bright red car sped into view, kicking up dust and gleaming in the orange light. It slammed on the brakes in front of the two and the door swung open to reveal Amami wearing a pair of Gucci sunglasses. "Ouma-kun," he yelled happily, flipping his hair back dramatically, "I heard you were getting married so I bought you this Ferrari! Please don't ruin the seats!" He undid his seatbelt and jumped out. "Au revoir, best friend, and happy being married!"

"Thank you very much, Amami-kun," Saihara said with a smile. "We'll never forget you! We'll be sure to send letters from Canada!" He crawled into the driver's seat and turned the key. Ouma sat down in the passengers seat and turned to his fiancé in concern.

"Saihara-kun," he asked, "do you even know how to drive?"

"Of course not! Do I look eighteen to you?" He responded. "But still, I'm willing to break the law for you!"

Tears welled up in Ouma's eyes. "Thank you, Saihara-kun," he said, "I feel the same! Now let's go to Canada! We don't need a plane, let's let the power of love take us there!"

"Right!" Saihara cheered. "Let's!"

And so the two shut the car doors and drove to Canada to get married, fueled by their undying love for each other. They only needed each other to be happy, and happy they were. They sent Amami letters weekly and grew old together, running an orphanage until the day they died: in each other's arms during a house fire set by Harukawa.

Ouma opened his eyes and scanned the classroom, gaze scanning over the teacher and his classmates before falling on a note-taking Saihara's back.

" I love you, Ouma-kun! "

Ha. As if.

The second the bell rang the sound of chairs moving away from desks and fabric ruffling filled the classroom. Ouma stuffed his papers haphazardly into his bag before throwing it over the back of his chair and walking out of the room, ignoring the way the teacher protested.

He sighed in relief as soon as he was in the hallway. Being in the same class as Saihara was really... stressful, to say the least. Between dealing with stupid fantasies and stupid crushes, Ouma would rather staple his eyelids shut. Or die. Either option was better than trying to suffocate the butterflies in his stomach every time he saw the detective.

At least it was lunchtime. During lunchtime he could get away from his problems and make fun of Iruma. Not to mention he could steal scraps of food from his classmates, meaning he wouldn't have to waste money on buying lunch.

He swung open the doors to the back of the school and headed to his usual spot with Gokuhara, Iruma, Hoshi, and Shinguuji. Not that any of them were there yet.

Ah, whatever. They'd show up after placating the teacher on Gokuhara's part and yelling about going to take a break on Iruma's.

Ouma sat down next to the furnace and stretched his back. Pathetic, he thought. You can't even get Saihara-chan out of your head for a second.

The sound of footsteps came from around the corner and he moved to the side to see who it was. Hoshi gave him a wave as he walked into the small area that held the furnace.

"Oho, Hoshi-chan makes an entrance!" Ouma laughed, "but where are his groupies?"

The smaller boy sat down in his usual spot and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. "Gokuhara and Iruma are still freaking out in the classroom. Shinguuji's on his way." He pressed one of them to his lips and flicked his lighter. "You want one?"

Ouma scoffed. "Hoshi-chan thinks so lowly of me? I'd never do such a thing! Unlike you, I'm a good boy!"

"So you want a light," Hoshi said.

"Ah, yes please!"

Hoshi passed him the item and Ouma moved to take a long drag of it. He sighed out the smoke and watched it swirl up into the air.

Shinguuji appeared around the corner and made his way to the two, holding a bento box in his hands. "Good afternoon," he said, "I see that you two are keeping up your poor habits."

Ouma cheerfully flipped him off before moving from his spot to sit next to the taller boy. After Shinguuji opened his lunch he picked a bit of rice from it.

"What's up, sluts!" A voice yelled, and none of the boys reacted as Iruma threw herself around the bend, dragging Gokuhara along with her. "Did ya miss me? Teach was being a real prick today, y'know? I was about to- oh, shit, are those smokes?"

Gokuhara's face drained of color. "S-Smokes?! Ouma-kun and Hoshi-kun are smoking again?!"

Ouma tapped the cigarette on the side of the furnace and watched as the ashes fell down. "Hey to you too, Iruma-chan, Gonta-chan."

"Yeah, yeah," the blonde waved him off. "What the hell're you doing? You said you'd stop that shit."

"Oh, I lied."

Gokuhara's eyes welled up with tears. "H-Hoshi-kun promised Gonta he would stop though..." The gentle giant moved his arm to push up his glasses and wipe his tears, sniffling into his sleeve.

Hoshi let out a breath of air and slammed the cigarette into the wall, putting it out in a second. The four teens blinked. He opened the door to the furnace and tossed it in. "Okay," he said, "sorry, Gokuhara. Won't happen again. Ouma, take these."

Ouma wheezed and took the pack from his hands. Then he burst into laughter. "Oh my god!!" He screamed, "oh, my god! Imagine being so gay-- I'm losing it!" He broke into coughs. Shinguuji patted his back comfortingly.

A smile broke out on Gokuhara's face. "Gonta is very relieved," he sighed, "he heard that smoking is bad for your lungs! So he wants Hoshi-kun to stop. Ouma-kun too!"

To spite him, Ouma blew a long breath of smoke into the air. Iruma scoffed. "You know he ain't gonna stop," she said, "he's probably been doin' it since he was a fuckin' sperm cell."

"Sperm cells cannot smoke, Iruma-san," Shinguuji replied, thumbing through a book on ancient foods. He'd probably pulled it from his pocket or something while they were arguing. Ouma snuck some more rice from his bento and put out his cigarette butt while he looked through the book with him.

Iruma seemed like she was about to punch the gangly boy. She sat herself down on the ground instead. "Shut the fuck up," she spat eloquently, "you know what I mean." A ring on her finger glinted in the sunlight when she pointed at him.

And, ah, wait. A ring? Ouma swallowed a mouth full of food and pointed at her hand. "Hm? What's this~?" He jeered before crawling towards her, seizing her hand from the air. She squeaked when he did. "Oh my! Iruma-chan, what a cute ring! I wonder where you got it from...?"

Iruma yanked her hand away from him, flustered. "Sh-Shut up! This... This is--!" She gripped her wrist in her other hand tightly, almost like it would just fall off if she let go. The cute ring wasn't on her finger anymore, though. Her eyes went wide and she snapped her gaze towards the small boy in front of her.

Ouma sat on his haunches, holding the little piece of jewelry between his fingers. It was... really cute, actually. There were small flowers engraved in the side of it and a small pink gemstone was set in the middle. The ring was a crisp silver with "Miu" carved on the inside.

"Huh?" Ouma muttered, turning it in one hand and holding a wailing Iruma back with the other. "Huh, huh, huuuuuh? This is super cute Iruma-chaaaaan! Who got it for you?" He moved it to his lips to bite down on it.

"Fucker!" Iruma finally pushed his arm away and leapt towards him, snatching the ring from him before he could bite it. The gem glittered in the light as Iruma looked over it before putting it back onto her finger. She sent a nasty glare towards her friend. "Don't touch my shit, shota! Besides, you don't bite silver, you bite gold!"

"She's right," Hoshi unnecessarily chimed in. He paused for a second. "Actually, you can bite silver, but still."

Ouma let himself fall back onto his butt and laughed. "For real though," he said cheerfully, "who got you the ring?"

The blonde girl squirmed where she sat. A bird called from somewhere in the schoolyard, followed by the sound of teenagers laughing. Sunlight bounced off of the top of the old furnace. Iruma sniffed as a bead of sweat ran down her face.

The four boys there with her watched, curious. Shinguuji's book made a quiet sound when he turned a page. Iruma swallowed and fiddled with the ring again. "A... Akamatsu," she murmured, and red exploded across her face.

Ouma blinked. "Really? How boring. I thought you would say Kiiboy got it for you or something." He pouted. "I'm disappointed."

"Wh-What?!" She shrieked, "you were the one who asked!" Her eyebrows pinched up, an exasperated expression covering her face.

"I don't know what you expected," Shinguuji said, not looking up from his book, "he's proven to do this sort of thing every time."

Well, that was certainly true. Maybe he was starting to get more predictable? That wasn't good. Not good at all! Ouma laid a hand over his forehead and gasped. "My," he lamented, "Shinguuji-chan! What an insult! Are-Are you calling me predictable?" Tears welled up in his eyes and Gokuhara gasped. "You're so cruel! It hurts for you to say that to me!"

"Oh no," Gokuhara whispered, eyes welling up with tears of his own. "Shinguuji-kun! P-Please apologize to Ouma-kun! He's crying!"

Iruma grit her teeth and picked him up by the scarf. "Bitch, stop faking! I ain't fallin' for it, and neither are those two limp dicks! You're just embarrassing yourself, shithead!"

The short boy's face fell flat, tears drying up instantly. He sighed, still being held up by Iruma. His eyes darted to the side before pulling back up to her face. Well, time for his most devastating comeback! A grin crossed lips. "No," he said, curt, "you."

Iruma's jaw dropped. "Did you just 'no you' me?! I'm gonna fuckin'--!!" Just before the blonde could "fuckin'--" the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Ouma dropped back to the ground when he was suddenly let go of, and he gently straightened his scarf out.

Iruma frowned at him before standing up and dusting off her too-short skirt. She walked off briskly, muttering to herself. Gokuhara jumped up and reached for Ouma, extending a hand towards him. "Aw," the shorter cooed, pushing himself up and leaving his friend hanging, "thanks Gonta! You're so kind!"

"Right..." Gokuhara said, obviously uncomfortable. He pulled his arm back and fidget edited . "Did Ouma-kun need to be so mean to Iruma-san? She seemed upset..."

"It's better than calling her a slut or a whore," Hoshi replied, standing up. "You gonna keep those?" He pointed to the pack of cigarettes that had been left on the ground.

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Ouma grabbed them and slid them into his scarf. A real disappearing act, huh? Yumeno would be jealous.

Shinguuji stood up, bookmarking and closing his book before picking up his empty bento box. He nodded to his friends before leaving the furnace area. Hoshi followed after a second later, Gokuhara on his heels, and Ouma was left alone.

He looked up, squinting at the sunlight. Alone, huh? True enough. He was too much of an asshole to consistently make people happy, so that sort of friendship was pretty much unobtainable. Much less a relationship.

Tears welled up in his eyes from staring up into the bright light.

A sigh pulled from his lips.

He wasn't in the mood to go back to class.

Ouma walked into the classroom the next morning and received a total of fifteen unhappy looks. When he threw himself down into his seat Amami turned around in his own chair and pushed him his belongings. The look in his best friend’s eyes told him that they'd be having a long conversation sooner rather than later. He rolled his eyes at the green-haired boy and started to dig into his bag.

At least, he tried to. A sharp jab into his shoulder blade pulled his attention instead. Ouma looked back up from his school bag only to see his deskmate's face. Oh, great. How wonderful.

"Momota-chan. It's good to see you!" Ouma grinned weakly, "well, that's actually a lie. It's always unpleasant to see you. Anyways, what is it that you need?"

His classmate scowled at him. Ah, if he kept that up his face would freeze that way. Momota crossed his arms. "Where'd you go yesterday?" He growled, "Amami and Iruma were pissed off for the rest of the day."

"Okay?" Ouma said, "why's that matter to me? Or... were you worried for me? How sweet of you, Momota-chan!"

"How the hell did you get that from 'Amami and Iruma were pissed'...?"

Ouma ignored him and pulled his textbook from his bag. "Helloooo?" Momota waved his hand in front of the shorter's face. "Ouma? You there?"

Ouma knocked his arm down, now very aware of Saihara's eyes on the two of them from his seat next to Amami. "Yeah, I'm here," he fumbled. "Could Momota-chan leave me alone now? His idiocy is giving me hives."

Momota sputtered. “Idiocy can't give someone hives! And, oi, are you calling me stupid?!” The wannabe astronaut’s face was flushed with anger, and his voice was starting to get louder and louder. If he didnt put a stop to their argument, Ouma would either end up with a black eye or a write-up. And he had work later, so there was no way in hell he'd let himself get detention now.

"Ehh... what're you going on about," he said, waving the taller off. “I wasn't even talking to you, moron. Just go back to drawing dicks, or spaceships or whatever those are.” He dug a chewed up pencil out of his bag and pinched at the led to check if it was broken. It wasn’t, so Ouma propped his head up on his elbow, looking away from Momota, who just clicked his tongue at him.

From the seat ahead, Saihara sighed in relief. Ouma let a smile creep onto his lips. Crisis averted, in more ways than one.