synopsis: just a short and sweet confession between idia and the reader, nothing much plot-wise :) idia gets a little emotional bc ofc he does but it's still fun to write
You were watching Azul and Idia go at it at chess, not understanding how they knew where each piece was able to move and which move would topple over the other's pieces. You weren't too active in the Board Game Club, but you'd agreed to join it because of Idia, who was glad to have another friend there.
"Geez," you say, watching both students glare at the offending pieces, "does this game ever end? You guys have been at this for, like, an hour."
"I'm waiting for Azul to do something stupid so that I can take over," mutters Idia, eyes flickering across the board.
"No shame at all," says Azul, giving Idia a hard look. "It's like we're not even friends."
"Not when we're playing. All relationship statuses were rendered null as soon as you pulled this out," says Idia, moving another piece.
"Alright, if that's the way you want to play," hums Azul, pulling a move that makes Idia's eyebrows furrow. You watch the blue-haired boy bite his lip as he tries to find a way out before sighing and sacrificing another piece to move ahead, much to Azul's delight.
The game continues like this for a while. Even though watching it has you bored out of your mind, you stick around just to watch Idia's face as he gains ground and loses pieces, grinning at his animated expressions.
"You look like you're having fun," you tease as Azul topples another one of Idia's pieces. Idia's eyes narrow as he thinks, then reaches across the board, knocking over Azul's king.
"You're right, I am. Checkmate," says Idia, putting his hands back in his lap. Azul pauses, trying to figure out where he went wrong.
"Wait. Wait a minute. How did—" Azul falters, eyes wide as he tries to find out what made him loose.
"You got greedy. You overlooked everything else to get more of my pieces," says Idia, grinning slightly. Azul sniffs, then pushes up his glasses, crossing his arms and trying not to look disappointed at his loss.
"Well then. I see," he responds curtly, at which you smile.
"Good job Idia, I actually didn't see that coming," you say, looking at the board. "Well, I'm also not the best at it, so I can't say I would've understood what was going on either way, but good job anyways."
"It was partly because of my knowledge at this game, but also partially because Azul decided to let his brain crash while he should've been paying attention. It was a total shutdown," he says, removing the rest of the chess pieces while Azul glowers at him over the rim of his glasses.
"Sure, sure. Anyway, I have to get going. Don't let this one win get to your head," he warns Idia, as if the exact same thing doesn't happen to him twenty-four-seven.
"Huh, looks like it's just us now," you say, leaning back in your chair and watching Idia fiddle with his sleeves. "I'll help you pack everything up if you're done for the night," you say, gesturing towards the scattered board games around the table.
"Sure, thanks..." says Idia, avoiding eye contact as he shifts the pieces back into their respective boxes. You glance at him every now and then, watching him pack everything up while you do the same.
Idia seems to be going a little slower than normal, though. He's definitely taking his time putting everything away, which is unlike him, seeing as he's not one to linger around for small talk—in fact, he actively avoids it whenever he can.
When he sits back down, toying with his sleeves again and pointedly not looking at you, you guess that he probably wants to hang out a bit more but doesn't know how to ask. You let him scoot closer, pretending not to pick up on the way that his eyes will briefly flicker up to look at you when he thinks you won't notice.
You think it's cute. You think he's cute. He's never really been vocal about what he wants, especially when it's not about video games or getting out of a social situation, so he's stuck staring at you awkwardly while he you try not to smile at his obviousness.
"I might stay a little bit before heading back. It's not like I'm doing anything else today," you say, stretching in your chair. You don't miss the way that Idia's eyes light up.
"Um, okay, okay," he mutters, and to anyone else it might've come off as flippant or even annoyed, but you know that he's glad that you chose to stay.
You also know that Idia probably won't try to initiate a conversation on his own. Yes, he wanted you here to talk, but he either didn't think he'd actually get you to stay or he just doesn't know how to start a normal conversation; you'll have to start things off for him to get rolling.
"You're gonna have to teach me how to play chess like that," you say, with zero interest in actually learning the game. "I dunno how you were able to beat Azul like that. He's tricky."
"It's easy," says Idia, even though it's not. "You have to figure out their stats first. Everyone wants to win, but they all use different methods to get there. If you figure out what they're strongest hand is, you can figure out how to take it apart."
"Huh. Smart move," you say, not knowing how Idia managed to take a simple board game and turn it into a contest to see who could manipulate the other quickest. "You seem to take this stuff pretty seriously. Have you ever considered competing? I know you can get some pretty good money from stuff like that," you say, watching Idia look over to you for just a second before staring at the hem of his shirt instead.
"Yeah, but that would mean going out into the open where everyone could see me. No one would want to see a shut-in like me. That would just be embarrassing," he mumbles, and you sigh because of course now he decides that it's a good time to start up the self-deprecation. He rambles on before you can stop him.
"My family has all the money I need, anyways, so what do I need more for? I'd just look stupid up there. I'd rather just stay in my room so no one has to see me," he finishes, curling his arms around himself.
"No, you wouldn't look stupid," you say, hoping to pull Idia out of the mindset he's put himself in. "If I already think what you're doing is cool, what do you think everyone else will think? They're all gonna think you're pretty great!" you say, giving the other boy a smile.
Idia slowly turns his eyes towards you, looking equal parts relieved and panicked. "You...think I'm cool?"
You scoff disbelievingly. "Of course I do! What kind of question is that? You're, like, one of the coolest guys I know. That's a fact, y'know," you say, watching his eyes widen.
"Th-that can't be right," he mutters, looking confused. You hold back another sigh.
Idia has always been very self-conscious to the point where it's painful to listen to him talk about himself. He's so fixated on thinking that he's unlikeable that someone telling him something as simple as he's cool completely mixes the signals in his brain to the point where he doesn't think that it can be true.
"Well, it is," you say, crossing your arms. "Better start believing it, too, 'cause it's true. I think you know it already though," you say, watching as Idia tries to wrap his head around the fact that maybe he's not as terrible as he thinks.
"But that's..." he can't even finish his train of thought, too caught up in trying to convince himself that he's not worth it. "No, that's not right. You—that can't be right. You're just saying that to...what? To make me feel better and then take it away just to make me feel worse?" he accuses, to which you merely shake your head.
"For such a smart guy, I'd expected a little more. You don't really believe what you're saying, do you?" you say. It's a little harsh, but with Idia there's no other way to drive the point home. You can't give him any room to wiggle out of this because if he sees a chance to hate on himself again, he will take it.
"N-no, you're just saying that," he protests, looking at your crossed stance and waiting for you to take everything back. When you don't, he starts to panic again.
"Th-that's not true. You're just making this up, and you're going to tell me I'm stupid for believing your lies, and then I'll just get humiliated again because I like you and I want to believe you but I can't because—oh. Oh, I've said too much," says Idia, face slowly turning red as he realizes what he's just blurted out in the heat of his rant.
You, on the other hand, aren't surprised to know, but are surprised to actually hear him say it. That's not something you expected him to say, not with a personality like his. You feel your face get a little warmer, blinking as what Idia said settles in.
"I need to go. I'm going to change schools—no, countries," says Idia, all in a rush as he tries to escape the situation. If you let him leave now, there's a good chance that he'll take every measure to never speak to you again—and you know that he's got the means to do just that. You stand up just as quickly, herding him back to the chair, even though he looks like he's about to either cry or be sick.
"Now wait a minute, hold on," you say, pulling up a chair to sit closer to Idia—and to make sure that he wouldn't try to run away again. "I don't want you running off and making a mess out of yourself, so we're going to talk until you feel okay, alright?"
"Wh—this is humiliating!" exclaims Idia, trying to cover his face with his sleeves. You reach out and pull his arms down, feeling him stiffen under your gentle grip. He can barely look at you, face red and eyes watery.
"I'm going to say a few things, and then you're going to tell me what you think, okay? Stay put," you say, watching Idia squirm in place.
"First off, you're not stupid, okay? You need to stop saying that. You've got a brilliant mind and I'm honestly shocked to know that you're not aware of it. Second of all, I don't say things to make you feel better just to fool you into thinking that I like you, okay?" That gets another reaction out of Idia; he starts to fidget again, but luckily he doesn't pull his hands away from yours. You give them a reassuring squeeze, watching his face turn a hundred different shades of pink.
"Third of all, I do like you. I meant everything I said. When I tell you something, I don't say it just because I want something out of you—I just want you to know how I feel," you say, watching as Idia's eyes flicked back and forth across your eyes.
"And from what I can tell, I think you feel the same way. Is that correct?" you ask, watching Idia's lips purse, almost as if he's trying to stop himself from saying it, but he eventually caves with a sigh.
"You're just torturing me now. You already know the answer to that," mumbles Idia, and he's frowning but he looks like he's definitely about to cry, too. You let go of his hands and reach up, brushing the little drops away, even as Idia looks like he's just experienced something for the first time—which you don't doubt is probably true.
"A guy like you...I didn't think—" Idia cuts himself off, voice going watery at the end. You chuckle slightly, letting him lean into your hands while you wipe away his tears, brushing his hair out of his face.
"Oh, sweetheart, c'mere," you say, pulling Idia half onto your lap and letting him shake in your hold, softly stroking his hair while he clings awkwardly onto your shirt, curling in on himself. You can feel little damp spots appearing on your shoulder where Idia has rested his head; feeling a little bad for putting through all of that, you run your hand up and down his back, feeling him relax onto you.
He sniffles a bit, pressing himself harder into your shoulder and you let him, waiting for him to calm down enough to pull back, cupping his reddened, tear-streaked face.
"You feeling okay? You wanna talk?" you ask quietly, watching him think about it before simply signing and sinking onto you, letting his eyes flutter shut for a moment.
"'M fine, I'm just tired," he says, letting you pull him onto a more comfortable position so that you could hold him properly. He's still feeling quite embarrassed, but at least he's not trying to hide anymore.
"Hey, Idia," you say, shaking him a bit. "D'ya wanna go out sometime? We don't have to talk about it right now, but I'd like to take you somewhere. Your pick," you say, watching Idia crack an eye open.
"Yeah, that sounds nice. Maybe somewhere that's...not as open? I'm still not really—I don't think—" he fumbles over his words, and before he can get too worked up again you rub a hand between his shoulder blades, calming him again.
"That's okay, we don't have to go anywhere too public. There are plenty of nice places we can go without tons of people," you say, feeling Idia relax again. He's wrapped his arms loosely around you, running his hands over the fabric of your shirt.
There's definitely progress to be made, but at least he knows that you're serious about what you said—and maybe that'll help start taking steps to feel more confident in himself. You're just glad that you'll be able to help him on the way there.