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Yutaka flashes his gem back into existence then himself into his magical outfit in a quick practised sequence, the clockwork in his buckler already spinning before the transformation light's even faded, and then time's stopped for him.

...man. Times like this he really wishes he were still bad at ethics. He wants to redo this whole conversation from scratch. He should've given each of them their own private space in time stop, turned them down personally without having an audience...

...well. He can do some of that now. He hops down onto his feet, stretches a piece of string from where he is to where Toshiki is, ties it to Toshiki's finger quickly enough that he's barely included in the time stop, then hops back onto the railing. From there he can teekay his end of the string into his hand and this time properly hold onto it so Toshiki will join him.

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"—notes to self! Well that's fucking okay, then, obviously, nothing's—what."

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"Sorry. I stopped time to give you some space. Haru and Akira didn't come with, there's no one but the two of us."

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"You—stopped—Iwasaki what the fuck are you wearing."

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Onto his feet again to show it off.

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"...you look like a gay magical boy."

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"Don't I!"

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"I guess a tiny seifuku skirt wouldn't have been your style."

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"It really wouldn't have."

Come on, Toshiki, stop bottling it up, let it all out.

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"Your partner's clothes are a lot more modest."

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"He's a lower-key guy."

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"Hard to compete with a primadonna like you."

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Okay, time to do some pushing.

"Toshiki, I..."

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"Oh spare me, Iwasaki."

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"I'm sorry."

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"...you're sorry? Why, whatever could you be sorry for? Was it the way you hit it then you quit it for a whole month like it didn't matter? Or the way you decided to break the news that Tokyo is going to be destroyed in a week at the same time as you turned me down, but also it might not matter because you'll go back in time? Was it the way you spent months leading me on and making it feel like, like you cared and like I mattered at all to you—"

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"Toshiki you're one of the most important people to me."

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"You have a really fucking funny way of showing that, Iwasaki!" He stands up again and—waves a hand in front of Akira's eyes, then Haru's. "What the fuck!"

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"Toshiki, I—"

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"You suck, Iwasaki. You suck so much. And now there's fucking, fucking freaky wax dolls of my twin and some rando staring at me while I throw a tantrum like a child and you couldn't even give me that? Couldn't even give me some kind of privacy?"

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"...I could carry you to the rooftop?"

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"Don't touch me," he says, taking a step back.

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"...sorry."

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He giggles hysterically. "I wanted to tell you. You know? I was going to tell you—right after. And then you left and I didn't hear from you anymore, you might've died for all I knew, and then I was going to tell you today and, and why can't it be me? Why did you—why were you so sweet. Why were you nicer to me than anyone's ever been? If it was all just, just to satisfy some stupid fantasy I, I'm—"

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"And you want me to write some fucking notes to self because you can't even be assed to turn me down with your own mouth if I forget. You want me to write myself a note saying that I never mattered and by the way I'm going to die in a month. 

"You suck, Iwasaki. You really, really fucking suck."

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