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It was in the way Leandro smiled for others. Eyebrow raised, a wink. One side of the lips raised into a smirk, a flash of teeth. Finger guns thrown in for good measure. Projecting confidence, flirtatiousness, boldness.
It was in the way he smiled for Akira. Brows coming together shyly, eyes soft. A small, slow, natural smile. Head tilted slightly. Full of warmth, understanding, love.
It was in the way he insulted Akira, at first intending to hurt, then to rile up, then to play, then to flirt, then to care.
It was how one second, he could be a master war strategist, and then the next second he could forget the word for "glove."
It was in the way he threw himself fully into everything with sincerity, whether it was making his friends laugh, trying to flaunt his dexterity in various skills (with often disastrous results), or helping someone through a difficult time.
It was in the shape of his face, the length of his legs, the curve of his neck.
It was in the way he fought, how all his focus became devoted to defending his loved ones. How, aiming for a target, he cut out such trivial distractions as "other things shooting at him." And how, in that score, he fully trusted Akira to defend him from opposing fire, then did the same for him as he went in with his knife. How he’d fight until he lost consciousness (and, one time, even after that).
It was in the way he pretended to be arrogant in order to keep everyone amused.
It was in the way the facade dropped when they were alone and he no longer had to be more, and he wondered aloud if he was really useful or if people even liked him, only for Akira to quickly assure him that he was not only needed, but wanted.
It was in the way he kept moving, kept working, kept advancing, kept improving.
Akira knew it all.
He didn’t know how he knew it. He just knew that when he learned a fresh detail, it didn’t feel exciting in the way of a brand new discovery. It felt exciting in a familiar way, a comforting way. Like getting closer to home after being away for too long.
It nudged something in the back of his mind. Something important, that wanted to be remembered. Something that said,
“You’ve seen me before. You've heard me before. You've touched me before. You've known me before.
You've loved me, before."