Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kurosawa is. Someone. Kurosawa . Is Someone. 

Adachi can’t let go of that thought, as he rides the train home. This is unexpected. No, more than unexpected. This is unbelievable. Why on earth would Kurosawa be afraid to approach him? Why on earth would Kurosawa want to approach him?

And then there’s the part about Kurosawa having a crush on him. That part is almost even harder to believe. It might explain why Kurosawa was shy to approach him, but it doesn’t explain the crush itself. What does Kurosawa see in him?

Now that he’s sure, though, he decides that he has to do something about it. Learning that Kurosawa is Someone is important, of course, but the more important thing is that Kurosawa believes that Adachi still thinks Rokkaku is Someone. That means that somehow Kurosawa didn’t get his letters after the fiasco, though Adachi’s not sure how, or he did and he didn’t believe them. Perhaps he thought Adachi wouldn’t want to write to him anymore, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Even if everything had gone smoothly and they’d met as planned, Adachi probably would have wanted to keep writing. Everything is so much easier in a letter. 

Adachi sighs and ruffles his hair a little. This is a huge mess. A misunderstanding wrapped up in so many feelings that neither of them could see the truth. If it weren’t for his magical ability, they might never have figured it out. Adachi thanks whatever lucky stars gave it to him, because it means he has a second chance.

The problem, of course, is how to use the second chance. He can’t very well go up to Kurosawa and say “hey guess what, I figured it out by reading your thoughts, and now you have to listen to me so that we can fix it.” Kurosawa should have a choice in this. Besides, Adachi knows there’s no way that he could actually follow through on that in person anyway. He’d stutter and it would come out wrong, and he’d screw it up more than he already has. But he has to do something.

And then he realizes. He can’t do it in person. But knowing that Someone is Kurosawa, he could write him another letter. He knows where to leave it now. He can explain what happened that night, and then let Kurosawa decide whether he wants to fix it. Yes. That’s what he’ll do. 

He stands and walks to the door of the train, impatient to get home now. He taps a foot and rolls his shoulders, unable to contain his nervous energy. He needs to fix this. He needs to do this right. He can do this. He can do this.

Once off the train, he runs from the station the rest of the way home. Dropping his backpack on the floor, he doesn’t even stop to take off his suit coat. He sits at the desk, and pulls a piece of stationary to him, pausing to close his eyes and send a wish off to whoever gave him this magic that he would find the words to make this right.

He reads it one more time and then closes his eyes, making one more wish. He doesn’t even wish for anything specific, because he can’t articulate what he wants to happen next. Then he carefully retrieves the two notes he wrote right after the fiasco from the notebook where he’s been pretending to write to Someone since, and folds the new note together with them. He’ll leave all three at Kurosawa’s desk right before the end of the day, so that he can leave work straight after, and not have to face him right away.

For the first time in a month, Adachi feels the slightest stirrings of hope in his chest. It’s small, but there’s finally a chance.

The next day Adachi is on edge. He constantly feels slightly nauseous, and by midafternoon, Fujisaki has asked him if he’s feeling unwell twice. He is, but taking sick time won’t fix this. He has to make it to the end of the day, and leave Kurosawa his letter, and then maybe he’ll feel better. Well, probably he won’t, but at least he won’t have the nerves from trying to pull this off without getting caught.

When he’d made this plan, he’d thought the hardest part would be to deliver the letter. Now, though, his mind wanders to the aftermath. To the conversation that might eventually happen, where he has to explain how he knew. He can’t explain his magic - just doing this will take all of his bravery for the entire week. Maybe it’s plausible enough that he guessed the scar on Kurosawa’s hand was from the jellyfish?

After his afternoon break, Adachi stops trying to work. He’s too distracted. He pulls up a long article on how to speed up your VBA code and leaves the window on top of his computer screen so that if anyone walks by it looks like he’s working, but every few seconds he steals a glance at Kurosawa, willing him to leave for a break, or a business meeting, or anything so that Adachi can get this done. Fujisaki catches him looking three different times, and raises her eyebrows at him, but he just buries his nose in the article he’s not reading and scrolls a bit so that he looks busy.

Finally, five minutes before the end of the work day, Kurosawa gets up. He doesn’t have his bag, which means he’s not leaving for good, so Adachi can leave the note and Kurosawa will still get it today. He quickly shoves the rest of his things in his backpack, says goodnight to his deskmates, and walks to Kurosawa’s desk. He has no idea where to hide the note, though. Kurosawa always put it under his laptop, but he also knew to look for it there, so maybe he should put it somewhere more obvious?

“Adachi?” Kurosawa says, and Adachi jumps. Shit. He’d taken too long and Kurosawa is back already. 

“Can I help you with something?” Kurosawa asks, when Adachi just stands petrified, too anxious to speak. Adachi’s eyes drift to the desks nearby. A few people have left, and the rest are looking fairly busy, probably on purpose so that they don’t look like they’re prying. Well, onlookers or no, this is Adachi’s last chance. He holds the packet of letters out with a shallow bow.

“Just read it,” he says, and he knows it sounds rude and abrupt, but it’s the best he can do. 

It takes a moment for Kurosawa to take the letters from him, and as soon as he does, Adachi takes off for the exit. He can’t wait to see what happens when Kurosawa reads them, or what everyone else in the office thought. He can’t go through that.

He reaches the elevator bank, and pushes the call button, but every elevator is down on the first floor, and it feels like they’re taking years to reach him. He keeps darting glances at the door to the office, but so far nobody has followed him to make fun of him.

Finally he can’t take it anymore, and he runs to the stairs. At least then he’s moving. At least nobody will look for him in the stairs. 

Halfway to the first floor, he notices that his cheeks are wet. Is he crying? Why? This is what he wanted, he’s gotten his second chance and tried to fix it. It’s the best he can do. So why is he crying?

He bursts out of the stairwell at a run, using the momentum of the stairs to push him across the lobby and out the front doors. He is so ready to be at home, where it’s safe and quiet and there’s no one to make fun of him for… any of this. It’s all so ridiculous.

“Adachi!” A yell behind him stops him in his tracks. Why? He just wants to go home. 

“Wait, Adachi, please!”

Adachi closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He swipes a hand under each eye and blinks several times, so that there’s no evidence he’s been crying. Then he turns around.

“Adachi, please!” Kurosawa finally catches up to him, panting from running.

Adachi doesn’t say anything. He said everything he needed to say in those three letters, and he has nothing left to give. Kurosawa gulps in air, clearly trying to catch his breath.

“Did you mean it?” he asks finally, waving the opened letters in his hand.

“Yes,” Adachi replies, not even asking which bit, because he meant all of it. He’d said that in today’s letter. Did Kurosawa not believe him?

“You’re sure?” Kurosawa asks.

“I just humiliated myself in front of the whole office and you’re asking me if I’m sure?” Adachi finds himself angry for some reason. He’s spent a month pining after Someone, and done the most brave thing he’d ever tried in his life, and Kurosawa still doesn’t believe him?

But before Adachi even finishes that thought, Kurosawa drops his bag and rushes toward him, wrapping him in a hug. 

“I thought--” Kurosawa’s voice breaks, and is he crying? “I thought that you thought--”

“I know,” Adachi says, when it seems like Kurosawa isn’t going to finish that thought, “I’m sorry. I figured it out eventually.”

“This month has been so miserable,” Kurosawa wails.

“I know. Me too.” Adachi pats Kurosawa’s back awkwardly.

“How did you--?”

Adachi pauses. The real answer is a bit complicated, but if he edits a bit, maybe--

“The scar, on your right hand. I noticed it the other night. That’s from when you got stung by a jellyfish, isn’t it? When you were 8?”

Kurosawa pulls back to look Adachi in the eyes. 

“Seriously? That’s all it took?”

“That started it. It took me a minute to put the rest together.”

“Oh, I like you so much ,” Kurosawa growls, pulling him back into the hug. Adachi chuckles nervously.

“You do, huh?” 

“Yes. I do. I have since before the letters, but I was so afraid…”

“Well. You read my letters. You know--”

“Know what?” Kurosawa asks, pulling back again with an impish look in his eyes.

“Know… um. Know how I feel,” Adachi says with a blush. Kurosawa smirks, and it is unfair that he can look this good with tear tracks down his cheeks.

“And how’s that?”

“Really? You’re going to make me say it?”

“Saying things is important! We’ve both learned that lesson after the month we’ve had.”

Adachi ducks his head and shuffles his feet. Saying things is hard , even if it is important. He looks back up at Kurosawa, and then around to see if there’s anyone nearby. There isn’t, but he’s still nervous, so he leans in, and whispers in Kurosawa’s ear.

“I like you.”

“What was that?” 

“I like you,” he says slightly louder.

“What?”

“Oh for-” he takes another quick look around and then darts in and kisses Kurosawa on the lips. He feels a bolt of heat go through him at the touch, and oh dear, he would really like to do that again. But he pulls back, out of Kurosawa’s reach, waiting to see if Kurosawa is ok. 

Kurosawa blinks at him for a few moments, clearly surprised, and then surges forward. He grabs Adachi’s face and kisses him, so fast that Adachi can barely keep up. Their teeth and noses bash against each other, and Adachi giggles, but Kurosawa doesn’t stop, kissing and kissing and kissing, until they’re both breathless.

“Does that answer your question?” Adachi asks with a smirk.

Kurosawa gives him a triumphant smile, and reaches for his hand.

A few weeks later