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Heizou knows who it is. Of course he knows who it is; he prides himself on having a keen sense of intuition and even better observational skills, something that’s reflected in his grades. He’s figured out far more difficult things, like how to get perfect marks on his creative writing assignments while putting in as little effort as possible. So it’s no challenge at all to figure out who the real face is behind the school advice columnist.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to help some more?”
Gorou shakes his head hurriedly. His ears twist on a slight delay, causing them to keep shaking even once the motion has finished. “I’m fine,” he says, though it sounds too fast to be true.
“You’re busy?” Heizou infers, less a question and more a statement of fact, because he knows he’s right. Gorou’s never in a hurry unless he has good reason to be. He’s often late to class, showing up with a daisy tucked in his pencil case, and Heizou can put the pieces together.
“Yeah.” Gorou smiles a little, something wry and joyless in his expression as he shoves a folder into the back of his backpack.
“Student council?”
Gorou’s ears perk up, and the apples of his cheeks flush the slightest shade darker. “Uh- yes.” His fingers linger just a second too long on one of the other folders in his backpack, a thin one, with a sliver of pink paper sticking out.
That’s the moment Heizou catches on.
Pink is an uncommon color for assignments, since the paper is more expensive. And Gorou prefers doing projects and notes online, if the laptop he pulls out every day during precalc is any indication. That color of paper is only used by people who want to make something fancy, like a letter. Perhaps a love letter. Heizou feels a twinge in his stomach at the thought, but doesn’t bother to investigate it, because there’s another type of letter at this school.
Anonymous letters, sent to the advice columnist through a box in front of the student council office.
Inwardly, Heizou’s mind is still reeling from the realization that Gorou would take on such a role in addition to his student council responsibilities. But outwardly, he shows as little as possible, opting for a simple nod. “I see,” he says, voice impressively stable. “Well, if you need any help with that later,” he taps his own copy of the precalc problems they’ve been working through together, “you know who to call.”
Gorou nods as he zips his backpack closed. The zipper gets stuck partway down, and he flushes further, like it’s an annoyance. To the contrary, Heizou thinks he rather likes it.
As Gorou slips out the door, bound for his last class of the day, Heizou contemplates the contents of the letter. He’s never bothered to read the advice column, unless he’s counting the time he used the letters to figure out the identity of Kokomi’s secret admirer (Sara, to his great delight). But this changes everything.
Heizou has no desire to tell his troubles to a random person, only for them to publish his responses under a pseudonym of their choice. Sending anonymous messages to Gorou, however … now that could be interesting.
He grins, full of mischief, as he sets off down the hallway.
On his way out, Heizou makes a slight detour into the main office, to procure a sheet of blue paper. And sure, that isn’t allowed normally, but he shoots the secretary one well-placed grin, and she hands it over with no hesitation.
***
Miss Hina,
This is my first time writing to you. Isn’t that strange? I’d love to have figured it out earlier, but late is better than never, I suppose.
The prompt says to tell you of my troubles so as to get advice. However, I’m not experiencing anything particularly unsettling at the moment, except for one thing:
Something vital is missing from this column.
Perhaps the thing that’s missing is my letters.
Sincerely, Doushin.
***
Heizou drops the letter off the next morning.
He checks the school newspaper’s Instagram account multiple times an hour. He’s not usually so jittery, so anxious, over something so simple, but Gorou’s different. The letter is a test, a way to see if his theory holds water.
Okay, fine, he knows that it does. He’s right. Of course he’s right. It makes sense that Gorou would take a position like this, getting to help people, and he knows firsthand how persuasive the journalism students can be, especially chief editor Yae Miko. He knows full well that Gorou is the one behind the advice column. Sue him for wanting to see his reaction, though.
No response all throughout the day. He even risks checking his phone in precalc, when Gorou is right across from him, mouth scrunched up as he stares at the set of problems they’ve been assigned. He sketches out the lines of a graph, labels the axes with an x and a y, then stares at his paper like it’s personally offended him.
“Long night?” Heizou asks softly.
Gorou groans into his hands. The slivers of his face that peek through the cracks between his fingers are stained pink. “You could say that.”
Heizou hums. It’s definitely not the whole truth, but he thinks he can piece it together. “Lots of, ah, student council work?”
Rather than responding, Gorou just nods, face still obscured behind the curtain of his fingers.
“Well, I certainly don’t want to pile extra work onto you,” Heizou says. He picks up Gorou’s pencil from where it’s been rolling dangerously close to the edge of the table, and places it in front of him.
Gorou blinks his eyes open like he’s been taking a little nap. Heizou feels a sudden desire to reach out and brush his ears accidentally-on-purpose, but he forces his hands to remain exactly where they are. “Thanks,” Gorou mumbles. “I guess we should…“
“Come on,” Heizou says, dragging out the word so it’s almost teasing. “It’s not that difficult.”
Begrudgingly, Gorou picks up the pencil, dragging himself to sit upright and stare down at his empty graph. “It’s not difficult for you .”
“And I’m a full year behind you, so you should keep up perfectly well.” Heizou offers his most persuasive smirk. “I believe in you,” he sings.
“You’re a prodigy,” Gorou says, staring out the door longingly like he wishes he could get up and leave, if the precalc teacher weren't watching them like a hawk. “You’re the only sophomore in a class full of juniors and seniors. And I thought I was smart for taking a summer class to get here.”
“The word prodigy is a bit strong, perhaps,” Heizou says, with a laugh that hopefully doesn’t sound nervous. Truth be told, Heizou hadn’t worked hard at all to get here. It was more of an exercise in his persuasion skills than his math skills, though both are stellar, of course. A detective has to be able to do math on the go. Graphing tangent lines wasn’t exactly what he had in mind, but he’s not half bad at it.
A smile tugs on the corners of Gorou’s mouth. “Okay, not prodigy .”
“Just Heizou is fine,” he says casually, like it’s not a big deal that he’s letting Gorou use that name, like he lets everyone do that.
There’s a moment where Heizou thinks maybe he’s made Gorou uncomfortable, because he stays silent, fingers hesitating above the paper. But after a moment, he resumes motion as normal. “Okay, Heizou. We… we need to do some graphing.”
Heizou gives himself half a second to enjoy seeing the way Gorou blushes when he uses the name. Then, he picks up his pen and gets down to business.
And at the end of class, when Gorou is putting his work away, he catches a sliver of blue paper in the thinner folder, and can’t help smiling, just a little.
By the time he gets home, the circle around the school newspaper’s Instagram account is pink, and when Heizou clicks on it, he sees a blue slide with familiar-looking words, and he grins as he reads the response.
Dear Doushin,
I’m glad you’ve finally written to me! Unfortunately, I’m not entirely sure what to say in response to your query. I look forward to your continued correspondence if that was truly the missing element of my newsletter.
Miss Hina.
***
The next time Heizou slides into his precalc seat, nothing about Gorou seems different.
Something in his chest feels a little heavier. Of course Miss Hina says flattering things. Of course they don’t really mean much. At the end of the day, it’s a job for him, and one letter full of well-worded airy nonsense isn’t going to change his day.
“Alright?” Heizou asks softly.
Gorou lifts his head from the desk. He’s clearly overworking himself, if the purple smudges below his eyes are anything to go off of. “I’m fine,” he mumbles in a way that’s utterly unconvincing.
He wishes he could tell Gorou that overworking himself isn’t going to get him anywhere. That he deserves a break. That he deserves a break with Heizou , and that Gorou could skip his last class and join Heizou on the walk to the donut place a few blocks away while they talk about letters, anonymous letters, and has Gorou received any recently, and-
“Heizou?”
With a sigh, Heizou shoves the thoughts aside. “It’s nothing,” he says, with a wave of his hand. “I’m simply dreading my junior year if this is what it’s doing to you.”
“You’ll make it just fine,” Gorou offers quickly, suddenly perking up as if boosting morale is the only reason he would come to life. Heizou tries not to fool himself into thinking that it’s about him . Because it’s not. Gorou gets excited about everything . He puts his all into student council projects. He responds to Miss Hina’s letters every day. It’s not just because of Heizou. It can’t be because of Heizou.
“I don’t doubt that.” Heizou levels him with a pointed look. “I know my limits, and I’m quite willing to take a break if I feel I’ve warranted it.”
To his simultaneous guilt and delight, Gorou flushes a vibrant red.
“I’m not implying anything, of course,” says Heizou quickly, like the suggestion is ridiculous. “But if you were to muse on my words, I’m sure it would do you some good.”
“I see,” Gorou says darkly, though it’s colored more by embarrassment than anger.
There’s a moment in which neither of them say anything.
Heizou keeps his silence, because for once, he knows he’s said enough. Perhaps if the silence stretches on a little longer, Gorou will realize he’s right. Perhaps if they’re left a little longer with their thoughts, Gorou will come to the conclusion that Heizou is making an offer. Perhaps if he waits just another moment-
The day’s precalc work hits the desk with a slap.
Gorou blinks, like he’s been snapped out of a mental reverie. “Oh. We ought to get to work, then.”
“Yes, of course,” Heizou agrees good-naturedly, as he picks up his pencil and begins to scan through the problems.
Somehow, he doesn’t feel disappointed. There’s a missed opportunity here, surely, but that’s not what it seems like. Instead, Heizou feels like he’s simply gotten a raincheck. Besides, Gorou’s clearly tired, and he needs some time.
He watches Gorou’s grip on his pencil falter, and decides that he won’t take any more. He’s got to do something about this.
***
Miss Hina,
It’s me again. After all, if my letters were the missing component, I’ve got to keep writing, yeah?
This time, I do have something to write to you about. I have a friend who keeps overworking himself. I’d like to think I hide it well, but I’m quite concerned about him. I’m sure you know some people like that; there’s an abundance of them at this school.
Either way, his problem may be common, but he deserves a break regardless. I can’t get him to see eye to eye with me, though. Please help me find a way to get through to him, lest I worry over his health every day until he passes out on me.
I hope to continue our correspondence beyond this plea for help, but I simply can’t keep him off my mind. Advice would be greatly appreciated.
Sincerely, Doushin.
***
When Heizou checks Instagram later that night, the newspaper’s account has been updated, and he’s got a response:
Dear Doushin,
I certainly know some people who work hard, though are you sure they need a break? Perhaps your friend is simply pushing himself a little, and he’s completely within his comfort zone.
That said, if he’s showing signs of being physically affected, help him out! I recommend inviting him somewhere to take a break together. Spending time with friends is a nice way to present a break as a positive thing.
Miss Hina.
Despite the nature of the letter, he can’t help smiling. It’s so typically Gorou, defending himself and his habits even as his anonymous persona. If he had any doubts, he’s lost them all now.
***
“Take a break,” Heizou declares.
Gorou glances up from his phone in utter surprise. The bags under his eyes have lessened slightly, which is a good sign. Perhaps the letter worked after all. “I slept perfectly well,” Gorou insists. “I’m not falling asleep in class today, there’s no need to worry.”
“Allow me to rephrase.” Heizou takes his seat dramatically, sliding it out and plunking himself in it with confidence. He allows a smile to take over the corners of his lips. “Take a break with me , Gorou.”
That certainly gives him pause. Gorou stares at him for several seconds, probably contemplating the feeling of having his own words thrown back in his face. There’s something incredibly satisfying about watching Gorou have to follow his own advice, Heizou thinks, and he loves being the one to do it. It has nothing to do with the sudden flush overtaking Gorou’s face, or the attentive angle of his ears.
“I’m- I’m still pretty busy.”
“And you can’t make time for me?” Heizou asks, less of a question and more of a statement.
Gorou nods, eyes fixed firmly on the table. His mouth is twisted up to one side, like he’s contemplating something, or perhaps that’s just Gorou’s way of concealing whatever expression he wants to show.
It’s clear that he’s being honest about not having time. Heizou’s not sure how to combat this problem. In his letter, Gorou didn’t cover what to do if said friend refuses to let you take them on a break. The response heavily implied that Gorou was responding with his own desires, so he’s not sure why he’s refusing.
Still, he can work with it. Heizou happens to have a little something called intuition, and he can adapt to any situation.
“Well, then I’ll make time for you .”
Gorou looks at him quizzically, and opens his mouth as if to say something, but Heizou switches to checking their answers to the remainder of the precalc homework so quickly that he doesn’t say anything.
Perfect, Heizou thinks smugly.
And when Gorou leaves for his final class of the day, working on policies in the student council room, Heizou doesn’t go home. Instead, he turns and ventures deeper into the school. This is step one of his genius plan.
If Gorou doesn’t have time to take a break, Heizou will bring the break to him.
So he knocks on the doorway of the student council room to announce his presence, then slips in with a white box in his hands and a grin set in place on his lips.
“Hi, what’s-” Sara visibly does a double take when she glances up. “Shikanoin?” she hisses. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m not here for you, don’t worry,” he says, polite in a way that’s incredibly hostile. Sara’s lips curve into a wry smile, suggesting she’s picked up on his so-called pleasantry. “Mind directing me to Gorou’s desk?”
Sara stares at him blankly for a few seconds, expression slipping away. “He’s a junior ,” she says flatly, like it’s a non-starter.
“Yes, and I want to see him.”
“You’re a sophomore . And I’m a sophomore.”
“Now you’re just stating facts.”
She sighs, sounding alarmingly like the principal of the school and much less like the sophomore class president. “I thought you were on my side, Shikanoin.”
“Am I not allowed to have friends?” Heizou asks incredulously.
Sara levels him a stare for a moment, then another, gaze set like the eyes of a gargoyle. Heizou is reminded, rather unpleasantly, of the fact that it’s impossible to win an argument with Kujou Sara. He’s fully prepared to back away and search through the juniors’ department on his own, so he lowers his eyes first.
Kujou Sara points to a desk on her left, backed up against the wall.
Heizou doesn’t bother with a response. He knows he’s already pushing it, and he’d just make it worse. He and Sara don’t have the best dynamic, maybe, but she’s a good class president, and he was a good class secretary before he quit, and that was that.
“Gorou!”
“Not so loud,” Gorou says, almost automatically, but then he glances up and his eyes widen. “Heizou? What are you d-”
But he falls silent instantly as Heizou presses a single finger against his lips. His ears perk up, attention caught, and Heizou finds it utterly entrancing, watching how reactive he is. Gorou’s eyes are impossibly wide, somewhere between threatened and absolutely intrigued.
Heizou lets his smile betray a little bit of his softness as he holds out the white box with both hands.
Gorou tilts his head. “What’s this?”
“You wouldn’t take a break,” Heizou says, like it explains anything. “So I brought the break to you.”
As usual, Gorou manages to flush like his cheeks are the spiritual equivalent of a marshmallow roasting in a fire. “I don’t need one,” he protests weakly.
Wordlessly, Heizou slides the tab out of the box, making sure to angle it to show the contents to Gorou. In Gorou’s distraction, he’s able to watch his face intently; Heizou observes the way his eyes move slowly, the way the shape of his mouth changes, the way his eyebrows fly up, the way his ears flop over themselves like he’s relaxed.
“You want to take a break now, right?”
Gorou shoots him a look that can only be described as exasperated, and grabs a strawberry jam-filled donut out of the box with contempt, like it goes against all of his principles. “I guess so.”
His fingers are covered in powdered sugar, and as he bites into it, his mouth gets stained to match. As he suspected, Gorou’s sweet tooth is his downfall, or, in Heizou’s case, the perfect excuse to distract him.
Heizou just grins as he bites into his own.
***
Miss Hina,
I’ve really got to write to you about everything, because your advice was wonderful.
Despite his initial resistance, my friend gave in and took some time off with me, just like you said he would. From what I gather, he enjoyed it, which is good, because I’d very much like a repeat of the situation.
On that note, I’ve got something a little more specific to ask you about.
I understand that you’re not one to give love advice, but I trust you. It should be said that I’ve deduced your identity, though don’t worry; your secret’s safe with me. My trust is not unfounded, and I mean what I write here wholeheartedly.
Please, Miss Hina, help me out. If not for my friendship, then in exchange for my silence.
For the first time since writing one of his letters, his fingers hesitate above the page. He’s got another sheet of blue paper from the secretary’s office, and this time, he’s using his favorite red pen, the one he always uses to correct his precalc homework. It’s unlikely that Gorou will recognize it solely from that detail, but it may at least plant the seed in his mind.
It’s been too long. He’s written enough letters. It’s time.
Heizou steadies his hand and connects the tip of the pen to his paper.
I want to ask him out.
Sincerely, Doushin.
***
For the entirety of precalc, Gorou is, quite frankly, jittery.
He sits on the edge of his seat, then on the back, then in the middle, then to the left, and it’s too much. Heizou can’t stand by, because he knows the cause damn well, and he isn’t about to let his own stupid inquiry cause Gorou actual stress.
“Alright, tell me. What’s wrong?”
Gorou stares at him. There’s a solid moment of measuring, where the silence roars in Heizou’s ears like a passing train, drowning out the other sounds that are surely going on around him.
“Gorou,” he says slowly, gently. He reaches across the table and places his hand on top of Gorou’s, waits a practiced amount of time (one point five seconds), then looks him in the eyes with just the right mix of concern and curiosity.
It works like a charm.
“Heizou,” he whispers, and it sounds reverent, like a plea. “Heizou, I’m fine. I just- I just have a lot of things going on right now, and I’m not really sure how to handle them-”
It’s the least believable speech he’s ever given. Heizou levels him with a pointed look.
Gorou crumbles. It’s visible, even in his features; his ears slope downwards, untensing like they’ve been on high alert all day and he’s finally letting them go. “I need to ask you something. And I need you to promise not to tell anyone about it, or- or take it out of context, or anything.”
This is the exact moment that Heizou’s been waiting for. In his mind, there’s a dramatic reveal where Gorou tells him in an undertone that he’s Miss Hina, and Heizou just laughs and says he already knew, and then, well. The next part is up for interpretation. “Promise.”
“How would you go about asking someone out?”
Heizou blinks. Once. Twice.
“Don’t make fun of me,” Gorou whines, ears twitching back up. “I know you’re going to. It’s just a question. Like, a, um. A- a hypothetical.”
“Of course,” Heizou says slowly. It’s not exactly what he had in mind. Then he gets an idea, and he can barely keep the smirk off his face. “Hypothetically, who am I asking out?”
As expected, Gorou flushes instantly, color flaring up in his cheeks, making a pattern across his nose. Heizou wonders if he can feel it in his ears too, if the way they perk up is their equivalent of a blush. “I don’t know. Whoever you’d want to, I suppose. You’re probably interested in someone, right?”
Heizou hums noncommittally. The alternative is affirming that yes, he’s interested in someone, and that yes, said person is directly in front of him, and that yes, he’s the one who wrote to ask about how to ask out the person in front of him, to the person in front of him. Which he decides against, for obvious reasons.
Gorou taps his fingers against the desk impatiently. “So?”
“I suppose there’s some setup first,” Heizou muses, half to himself. He thinks of leaning in a little too close when Gorou frowns at his paper, the glint he can’t keep out of his eyes whenever Gorou smiles at him. “Before asking anything. For me, at least, there’s something magical about anticipation.”
Gorou chews on his lip.
It’s a perfect illustration of his own words. Heizou loves anticipating what might happen, when Gorou will crack and tell him that he’s asking for a Miss Hina reader, when Gorou will realize that Heizou’s known this whole time, when Gorou will put together the pieces and connect Heizou’s words to his actions.
“Let’s say that’s all over, though.” Heizou waves his hand dismissively, as if everything he’s done so far doesn’t matter. “Let’s suppose that, hypothetically, there’s already history and whatnot, all that good stuff. The actual question, right? That’s what you wanted to know?”
Gorou nods. His mouth is scrunched up to the side like he’s eaten something sour.
“I’d tell them how I’ve been feeling over the last few months,” Heizou says slowly, trying to make his words clear enough for Gorou but not for anyone else in the classroom. The problems are abandoned on his desk at this point, and he has no plans to pick them back up.
“How would you- how would you do that, exactly?”
It’s the perfect time for Heizou’s intuition to kick in, and of course, it does.
He can’t keep the smirk off his face. “Would you like me to demonstrate?”
It works like a charm. Gorou flushes bright red, and his tail even fluffs up behind him, enough that it’s visible from across the table. His gaze bounces around, unable to settle on anything, at least not until Heizou places his hand on Gorou’s atop the table.
He swears he hears Gorou’s breathing stop.
“I’ve known you for a while now, and…” Heizou debates making it sound generic, and settles for the best compromise he can come up with. “I think I’ve finally identified how I feel about you.” He makes a point of tilting his head so as to draw Gorou’s attention, just so he can hold his gaze as he says, “I’m absolutely enchanted.”
It’s difficult to determine whether Gorou is silent, or if the room is simply a roaring cacophony of noise. Either way, it takes several seconds before Gorou speaks up again. “Okay,” he breathes, sounding winded. “But … asking them out?”
“All in good time,” Heizou practically sings, though he drops his voice as much as possible. Partly to avoid disturbing the class, yes, but partly because he knows it sounds more intimate. “Make sure to get a response to the initial declaration first. If there’s no immediate positive response, it’s best to abandon ship. Avoid rejection, right?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Gorou grumbles. He rolls his eyes, though his ears are still perked almost directly up. “I’m… I’m interested, then.”
“Oh, are you?”
He smacks Heizou’s shoulder with the blunt side of his pencil. It doesn’t hurt. “Shut up.”
“So, since you’re interested ,” Heizou interjects a tactical wink here, which is a little self-indulgent, but he can’t bring himself to care, “I’d love to be more than friends, if you’re willing.”
Gorou stares at him for several blank moments. “That’s it?” he says.
Heizou nods, businesslike. “Simple. Effective. Communication is key, you know.”
“I guess that makes sense.”
“So,” Heizou drags out the word in the most annoying tone he can muster, “who have you set your sights on, Gorou?”
As predicted, he flushes brilliantly, but he doesn’t bother turning away this time. His gaze is affronted, sure, but at least it’s not averted. “It’s not for me,” he says quickly. “It’s for-” he falters briefly. “It’s for a friend .”
And Heizou knows it’s the truth, but he’s still surprised that Miss Hina considers Doushin to be a friend. That was the intention, of course, but Heizou’s found that things involving Gorou rarely tend to work out for him. A blessing and a curse, perhaps. “Who’s this friend, then?”
“You-” Gorou clears his throat. His eyes snap down to the desk and don’t stray back to Heizou’s face. “You wouldn’t know them.”
Heizou leans back in his chair, tipping it on its back legs so that he’s precariously balanced. “I don’t know about that,” he says loftily. “I know a lot of people.”
“You wouldn’t know this one.”
Heizou can’t help himself. He lets a little smile tug at the corners of his mouth. “If you say so.”
The bell rings. Rustling paper, the sound of zippers closing, and the shuffling of feet drown out whatever Gorou was going to respond with.
“See you tomorrow,” Heizou offers, by means of farewell.
“Yeah,” Gorou says. He’s silent as they both fight towards the door. Heizou thinks that’s going to be it. After all, he’s already said his goodbyes, and Gorou has agreed. They’re probably doing that thing where Gorou rushes away at top speed and Heizou goes home at his usual leisurely pace while everyone else goes to their last class of the day, his off period.
But then Gorou taps his shoulder lightly, barely there, and Heizou whips around like his life depends on it.
“Thanks,” Gorou mumbles. “For the advice.”
Then he proceeds to book it down the hallway as fast as someone with his length of legs can muster. Heizou just stands there, completely spellbound. For once, he wasn’t able to predict someone’s actions. For once, he’s been caught off guard.
He can feel his pulse racing in his wrists. It’s disconcerting. It’s bizarre.
Heizou loves it.
And suddenly, he knows exactly what to do.
***
Miss Hina,
Heizou’s hands are shaking. He can barely stabilize his rolling chair, let alone his pen. He would love to say that he doesn’t know why, except that he does know why. It’s him. It’s always-
Or should I say, Gorou.
It’s always him.
You can remove that name if you like. I know it’s you, though, and I suppose it’s time to come clean.
I know you haven’t responded to my last inquiry yet. It’s okay. I know exactly what you’re going to say, anyways. It’s common knowledge that Miss Hina is no good with romance, I suppose. Still, I was honored that you decided to ask for my advice.
The thing is, Miss Hina, I thought you’d have figured it out by now. Perhaps this is all a trick you’ve been playing on me. Perhaps the real reason you asked for my advice was in hopes of soliciting a confession. Well, I suppose it worked, because here it is.
I’ve known you for a while now, and I think I’ve finally identified how I feel about you. I’m absolutely enchanted.
And if we say that, for the sake of the argument, you’re interested, I’d love to be more than friends. If, of course, you’re willing.
Thank you for all the advice. It’s served me well.
Love, Doushin.
***
At the beginning of class, the piece of blue paper sits unassumingly on Gorou’s desk, folded in neat thirds so as to conceal its contents. It’s the only time Heizou has refrained from dropping it in the labeled box by the main office, but he thinks it’ll be worth it.
Gorou slides into his seat, looking windswept and tired and somehow absolutely gorgeous, and Heizou can’t help taking note of his own nerves. His heart is speeding up, of course, and he’s suddenly hyper-aware of every sound in the room: the soft rhythm of footsteps, the whirring of the fan, the way his chair creaks when he leans back.
“What’s this?” Gorou asks softly. He picks up the blue piece of paper with hesitance, examining it closely like - hah - like he’s seen it somewhere before.
Heizou shrugs. “I suppose you’ll have to open it to find out.”
His mouth twists into a small frown. “I don’t think I should be opening this here.”
“It’s fine,” Heizou says, perhaps a little hurriedly. “I won’t tell anyone about your secrets.” Well, at least, he hasn’t so far. His track record is pretty clean, as far as keeping Gorou’s secrets goes.
Gorou still looks skeptical, but those words make his ears relax back down, and he opens the folded paper. Heizou watches as his eyes scan each line, widening along the way.
Eventually, Heizou decides he can’t look. He busies himself turning halfway around in his seat so he can stare out the window, under the pretense of a student longing for his freedom to finally arrive. But he knows the truth of the matter.
“Heizou.”
This was a bad idea, wasn’t it. He knew his intuition would one day let him down.
He turns to face Gorou anyway.
“You…” He smiles, very slightly; Heizou can’t tell if it’s real or not. “You wrote this, didn’t you?”
“I did indeed.”
To his immense surprise, Gorou’s face flushes with uncontrollable color at those words. Heizou’s completely baffled. He hasn’t said anything embarrassing, has he? No, at least not that he can recall. There’s no reason for Gorou to be looking like that, unless-
Well. Unless he wants to say yes. But Heizou can’t be sure.
“So?” he asks, as casually as he can manage, which is to say, not at all casual. “What do you say?”
Gorou stares at him. Like, directly at him. Right in the eyes.
“Why Doushin, of all things,” is what he says.
Heizou blinks. “Is that a yes?”
“I- I mean,” Gorou scrunches his mouth in mock distaste, but it’s abundantly clear that he’s just trying to hide a smile. It’s no challenge to read. His tail gives him away. “I might have to think about it.”
“That’s alright,” Heizou says loftily. “I can wait.”
Gorou watches him intently for a moment. Then he stares back at the letter. Then he traces his fingers over one of the words. Heizou can guess which one, though he doesn’t say anything.
“I’ve thought about it,” Gorou declares suddenly.
“Oh?” Heizou can feel the smile rising before it even shows. “That fast? Makes me think you might have already had an answer in mind.”
Gorou’s ears perk up. He grins. “Maybe a little.”
“Do tell, though,” Heizou says, “since you’ve been thinking about it for so long.”
His head hits the desk with a dull thunk. “Shut up,” Gorou mumbles into the wood. “I hate you.”
“You don’t.”
“I don’t,” Gorou agrees softly, sounding almost breathless. “Kind of the opposite.”
Heizou smirks. “Does that mean my proposal worked, then? I won?”
“‘Course not.” Gorou lifts his head from the desk, just to roll his eyes. The way he smiles dulls the impact, though. Heizou thinks it has the exact opposite effect of his intention, or perhaps it was done exactly right. “We’ll call it a draw.”
“That sounds alright.”
But with the way Gorou’s eyes are all soft, and with the way the blue paper full of Heizou’s own handwriting is on full display, Heizou thinks he’s winning, for sure.