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I still remember our first Valentine’s Day.
We had been dating for a few months, and we were determined to keep it our little secret. We swore not to talk to each other in public (save for emergencies, but those were rare), not to look at each other, and especially not to talk of each other — I could not bury the joy in my voice when I uttered your name.
We spent fleeting moments together, squished into weekends and after-class exchanges, covering our tracks with excuses and excuses — and miraculously, it was working. No one noticed the change.
And then Valentine’s Day came along.
I awoke to a delicate knock at my door. As I sat up, a figure shuffled into my room, their eyes barely visible over the load in their hands.
“Good morning, my queen,” Junko said, awkwardly plodding over to me.
“Are those for me, my dear?”
“Yes!” she beamed. “An anonymous gifter, it seems. Left them right at your doorstep.”
“I see.” Already, the smile was hard to fight. I turned my head, gesturing to the bedside table. “Leave them there, thank you.”
Junko sighed with relief, and I looked them over. A bag of chocolates, sealed with a love heart sticker, and a rich bouquet of flowers. “Seems you will have another busy Valentine’s this year, my queen.”
I barely heard the words. “Indeed,” I said, picking up the bag of chocolates, rattling them. When I peered inside, it smelt entirely of sugar. Each chocolate had a slightly different, deformed shape; jagged outlines, and chunks broken at the bottom. An ugly sight. If these were store-bought I would have wept, but instead, a flower of warmth bloomed in my chest. I did not care for the junk it was stuffed with — I took a piece and popped it in my mouth.
And it was incredibly sweet.
“M-My queen!?” Junko gaped at me in horror. “You absolutely cannot eat chocolate before breakfast!”
“So? It’s Valentine’s Day, isn’t it?”
“That is no excuse!” She snatched the bag, sat it back on the table. “We are immediately heading to the cafeteria for a proper meal. Go and get dressed!”
Junko pulled me by the wrists, and I reluctantly climbed out of bed. I dragged my heels but I did not utter a complaint; I cleaned myself up, threw on a fresh uniform, and took my time brushing my hair. I coated it with serum so it flashed and shined in the sunlight; added a dash of perfume to my neck and wrists, and gave myself a wink for a little extra confidence.
I knew everyone would be looking at me today, but there was only one person I wished to impress.
The campus was always lively on Valentine’s Day. Love was in the air, and so too, were the nerves; chocolates were being passed through the hallways, underneath desks, and behind buildings. Confessions and love letters and couples everywhere you looked.
A part of me was jealous I could not be among them, celebrating so openly. We had to do things our way.
It was the first class we shared that day, right before lunch. You were already seated, and you saw me arrive — or, perhaps you heard me and my clique chatting up a storm, and immediately averted your gaze. My stomach flipped at the sight of you, but I kept my face still. Kept talking.
When we passed your table, I slid you a piece of paper. You covered it with your palm, pretended to clean your desk, and it fell into your lap.
I sat a few seats behind you. I watched you read it, tame and expressionless. You crumpled the paper in your hand, turned it to ash, and scattered it like rain.
When the bell rang, students washed out of the classroom, eager to spend their Valentine’s in a more picturesque place. No one would dare confine themselves to these four walls, sitting amongst these bland desks. You were slowly packing your things. I walked out, flanked by my girls; we got five, six paces away, before I stopped short.
“I left something in the classroom,” I said.
“We shall retrieve it for you, my queen.” Such obedience would be rewarded any other day, but instead, I shook my head.
“I shall only be a moment.” And I scampered away before they could follow.
The door slid shut behind me, and there you were. Leaning back in your chair, casually, arms crossed; your eyes flickered with interest when you looked at me. You watched me stride over, a humble smile playing at my lips, as I leaned on the desk beside you.
“The flowers were a nice touch,” I said.
You mumbled through a pout. “I’m glad.”
“How long did it take you to make those chocolates?”
“W-Why? Were they that awful?”
I shook my head. “They were very you.”
“Is that an insult or a compliment?"
“I wonder~”
You turned your head and huffed, the way you always do when you’re flustered. My smile grew, and my voice grew tender. “I have something for you as well, you know.”
You glanced out the side of your eye, trying to hide your excitement. “Really?”
“Really,” I said. “You have a free period last, yes? I’ll give it to you then.”
“You can’t just give it to me now?”
“Patience is a virtue, Misaka-san.”
You sighed. “Where should I meet you?”
“The library, if you wouldn’t mind.”
I could see the hesitation pulling at you, like a rope suddenly going taut, but you nodded your head. The library — there was no guarantee it would be empty, and you were moments away from calling me a fool. But you held your tongue.
My eyes fell to the floor. “Misaka-san,” I said, and this time, I set my voice down like a stone, solid and cold. “How long are we going to keep this a secret?”
I dared to steal a glance at you, and there were equations written all over your face. You shook your head, coming up empty. “I don’t know,” you muttered. “Why, do you… not want to keep this a secret anymore?”
“I want to spend more time with you. And this,” I said, gesturing between us, “is such a hassle.”
You lowered your head, and I knew you thought the same. “People are going to talk about us.”
“They always do.” I lifted your chin, and our gazes touched. I felt a ripple across my chest. “Since when have you cared about what others think, Misaka-san?”
You swallowed. You swallowed and started nodding your head, crushing the last of your doubts. “Okay,” you said. “I’ll give it some thought. We’ll talk about it later?”
“Of course. I believe my clique will come looking for me soon.” I gave your hand a squeeze. Gazed into those warm, sunny eyes. “Do come to the library, yes?”
“Heard you the first time.”
Smartass. I kissed you on the cheek, and left.
The time came. I was studying with some of my girls on an upper floor, close to the railing’s edge; I could see the entire library floor from here, watching every person come and go. I could barely focus on my work. My stomach was alive with butterflies, my eyes darting from one distant silhouette to the next. Is that her? Is that? Or perhaps…?
Of course, it was when I finally sunk my head into my textbook that you arrived.
“Oh, look, it’s Misaka-sama.”
I sat up straight, searched the library for your eyes. They were the only pair looking back at me. As you climbed the stairs, I excused myself, and met you halfway. I could feel my clique staring as we came face to face.
“Do you mind,” I said, “if I give it to you here?”
I could tell you had been thinking about what I said. You glanced at our usual, private corner behind one of the bookshelves, and then back at me. The library wasn’t exactly deserted, but you had seen worse; you nodded, deciding to throw away the last of your caution. “Yeah, that’s fine.”
I opened my bag. I handed you a box of Swiss chocolates, the finest I could get my hands on; of course, the quality would be lost on you, but I wanted to make the effort. Your eyes lit up as you took it from me, marvelling at the fact that it was real. That I had, in fact, given you a gift.
“Now, um…” My hand was still sitting in my bag, hesitant to reveal itself. “I do hope this is to your tastes.” I pulled something out, and hastily stuffed it into your chest. With a raised eyebrow, you took it, and turned it around.
A fluffy white bear, barely the size of your hand. A charming little thing with an adorable smile, and a big, red heart in its hands.
You barely needed to reply — you were grinning like an idiot.
“Thanks, Shokuhou.”
I glanced away. Now, it was my turn to be embarrassed. “Happy Valentine’s, Misaka-san,” I muttered. You did not leave. I could tell you were looking at me still, though I could not see your expression — so eventually, when you spoke, it took my breath away.
“Can I kiss you?”
I stared at you, thinking I was in a dream. My cheeks began to warm. “Yes,” I said, nodding. There was nothing I wanted more.
We were already standing close, but in an instant, you were closer. It was a quick peck on the lips, something you had done hundreds of times before, but it felt brand new. A pure, electrifying joy left me tingling from head to toe. It did not matter if people were staring at us, gaping, or whispering; I had hidden these feelings for too long. And they were far too beautiful to say hidden.
We smiled at each other, lost in our own little world. Then, without another word, you took off.
I needed a moment to compose myself. To shake out the nerves. When I returned to my table, I simply sat down and started reading, avoiding the inevitable stares from my clique.
One of them was brave enough to break the silence. “M-My queen, do forgive me for prying into your personal matters, but are you and Misaka-sama—”
I put a finger over my lips. “No talking in the library, my dear.”
It was just past sunset when I knocked on the door of Room 208. There was some clumsy shuffling, a hasty exchange of voices, and then, it opened. You were there, your hair a little windswept, and your breathing heavy.
“Ready to go?” I said.
“Yeah! Yeah, of course.”
Kuroko was looking over your shoulder, halfway out of her chair, and when she saw it was me, her jaw stiffened. I waved to her, and she pointedly did not wave back.
“Good evening, Shirai-san. I promise I shall return your Onee-sama in one piece.” I noticed the stack of boxes pushed to the edge of Kuroko’s desk, and my eyebrows lifted. I turned to you. “Shirai-san’s had a busy Valentine’s as well, hm?”
You rubbed the back of your neck. “Yeah… though she’s been staring at that one rose for a while.”
And, indeed, it was easy to spot — a single red rose at her side, closer than the rest. “Oh? From someone special, is it?” I asked.
“N-No, of course not! Kindly mind your own business!” She roared. It was hard to take her seriously with a face that pink. She sighed, regaining her composure as soon as the conversation shifted. “More importantly, Onee-sama — why are you going out with Shokuhou Misaki, of all people? And on Valentine’s night?”
We looked at each other. Kuroko looked between us. Slowly, you turned, and gave Kuroko a sheepish grin. “I’ll… tell you later, Kuroko.”
She nodded cluelessly, and you closed the door.
“Do you want me to be there?” I asked. “When you tell her?”
“Nah. It’s probably for the best if it’s just us.”
“Alright.”
We started walking together. We had no spectacular plans, only a casual dinner — but we never got to experience it like this. We didn’t have to worry about arriving separately, or tucking ourselves into corner booths; didn’t have to worry about being recognised on the street, or hiding our faces.
I didn’t want to hide it anymore. I loved you.
So we walked hand in hand.