Archive of Our Own ^beta

20XX - 02/01 - Thursday - Early Morning - Shujin Front Entrance 

Kurusu Akira, the utterly charming thief of hearts. I know you’ve charmed your way into the hearts of many unsuspecting students, myself included. That’s why I have decided to steal your heart for my own and confess to you my feelings on Valentine’s Day. 

From, Your Secret Admirer

It was plastered on the school billboard, as clear as day. Akira wouldn’t know who would do such a thing, though he wasn’t embarrassed, far from it. He was flattered, a warmth blossoming in his chest over the thought of someone coming to ‘steal his heart’. 

But who could it be? The way the person wrote, it seemed as though he knew them, but Akira tried wracking his brain as to who it would be. Most of his friends in school were happily seeing other people, Akira having played a hand in some of those fortuitous pairings (a matchmaker, Ann once called him). Those who were single like he was - they just weren’t him.

The one person he wanted it to be who would never look at him like that. 

And he was here, too, ogling the board in front of him. Akira wondered what he was thinking or if he even cared but it was too hard to see Sakamoto Ryuji’s expression over a slowly growing crowd of Shujin students. They were all gossiping amongst themselves, looking at Akira with that look, and even whistling at him ( Yeah, Kurusu, get it! ). Ann and Makoto had made their way to him, the former having grabbed a copy (one of many that plastered the wall - his secret admirer really wanted to make their feelings known) and holding it close so he could get a closer look, and the latter muttering about needing the Class Vice President for crowd control (Goro Akechi’s hidden talent from switching between charismatic and menacing was admirable, to say the least). 

As Ann started dragging him away to make class (and to do her own fair share of gossipping) Akira looked back at the blond, because he was curious. He liked him for so long, shortly after he transferred into Shujin. 

It was only to his surprise that he saw the track star’s warm brown eyes meeting his own. 

 Lunch - Vending Machines 

“So, Akira has a secret admirer?” Ann sing-songed as she and Shiho sat across from Akira during lunch, their spot at a table by the vending machines. The classes in between the flyer’s declaration and lunch passed by in a blur, because all the noiret could think about was that letter. Ushimaru-sensei almost clocked him for his inattention, with his mind in the clouds as it was. 

“Not so secret anymore if the whole school knows,” Shiho commented idly, picking at her meal. 

Ann pulled out the flyer from her folder and smoothed it across the table. “I’ve been looking at this all morning. It’s like an art project.” She remarked. 

Upon Akira’s closer inspection, it looked more like a card… addressed to him. It was like one of those arts-and-crafts scrapbooking projects he made when he was younger, with characters from various forms of media - newspapers and magazines, probably, are glued onto a page. Plus it’s black, red, and white, which he supposes is fitting for the upcoming holiday. The back of it has a crudely drawn face with a top hat, with bold letters proclaiming - ‘Take Your Heart’.

“Looks more like a calling card than a flyer to me.” Ann suggested, leaning closer to him. 

“Huh? Like in those movies?” He’s distractedly studying the words on the card to see if they would give him any clues. Maybe he would ask Makoto about it when he had the chance, she would help him go about this logically. 

“Whoever did it, called you out in the middle of the school… in cardstock paper, no less,” said Shiho. “It’s a calling card. If they had put a number, they’d want you to call back. But this is attention enough. Perhaps they’ll call you again?” 

That was one way of putting it. 

“Who do you think it is?” Ann asked, cocking her head to the side, oh-so-innocently, but Akira knew that wasn’t what she was really asking. 

He sighed. “No, Ann, I do not think it is Ryuji.”

The blonde pouted. “Why not? And don’t give me your reasons ‘you would never stand a chance with Ryuji’ list. Also, you’ve been tutoring him for months! Months, Akira! I doubt Ryuji would have stayed to learn about English and Math and Biology and our entire schedule of classes, really - for months if it was just about anyone else.”

He thinks back to that moment, months ago. How the tutoring sessions had started always stood out to him in his mind, because he had not even signed up to be a tutor in the first place. He was too busy running around half of Tokyo, running errands for one person or another, in addition to his numerous part-time jobs. But Ryuji had managed to convince him (not that he needed much convincing from his crush to begin with) that he needed to keep his grades up to maintain his scholarship. And any chance he could spend with him, no longer nonexistent in his eyes, was a win for him.  

It still couldn’t be him, though. Ryuji liking him? It did not compute, because an equation in which the popular track star liked him as more than a friend was unbalanced, incapable of happening. Did Ryuji even consider him a friend? He had taken to Akira pretty quickly during their sessions, after learning they liked a lot of the same manga - Ryuji latched on to the fact they both liked Lupin III - and the same video games, but they didn’t spend much time together outside of school, Ryuji already tight-knit with his track team and Akira juggling everything all at once. 

If anything, Ryuji could consider him a bro and someone to talk about the newest manga or participate in some good ol’ fashioned locker room talk, all while Akira pinned and stewed in his feelings, but that was all there was to it. 

“He still talks about hot girls,” Akira points out. “I think he’s envious that I spend time with so many ‘hot but scary as hell’ girls.”

Ann groaned. “Is that supposed to be a compliment? He’s so dumb. You both are.” She reached into her chip bag, but feigned the motion, and instead leaned forward to grab his glasses off his face. 

“Hey!” Akira cried out. He’s startled by the motion and tries to snatch them back. For Shiho, it’s just another average lunch period with her girlfriend and one of their closest friends. 

“Do these things really work?” Ann pretended to look through the lenses of his glasses and wiped at imaginary scratches on the glass.  

“You know they do!” 

She hummed thoughtfully. “Not so sure about that, since you’re clearly ignoring something right in front of you, but fine.” She handed back his glasses (he sticks out her tongue at him in response), before she continued, “If you’re so stubborn about the possibility of it being Ryuji, then how about other options you’ve considered? There has to be someone else.”

“You are known as ‘too-cool Kurusu’ now, you know. You’ve definitely got a few admirers,” Shiho chimed in. 

His transition from mysterious and potentially dangerous transfer student to something of a ‘studious and silent’ type that girls (and guys) whispered about in hallways was bound to earn him a few fans. Coupled with his friendship with some rather influential and interesting people - one could even say in some circles, Akira was popular, though the raven-haired student was loath to even think about himself in that way. 

It seemed foreign to him that anyone, not just Ryuji, would like him romantically. 

But Ann and Shiho definitely had a few ideas, with the couple sharing a glance as they watched their friend struggle to think of potential candidates. ‘Too-cool Kurusu’ was also too oblivious to how he charmed and changed the hearts and opinions of those in Shujin and those outside of the school in such a short amount of time.  

“What about that gymnast you work out with sometimes? Yoshizawa…” Ann paused for a few seconds as she tried to recall the name. 

“Sumire?” Akira laughed. Now that was funny. He trained with the gymnast sometimes after she discovered he used to do the sport growing up. But what they had was a close friendship, nothing more. “I doubt she likes me.” 

“But you’re always training with her! And she asks you to attend her competitions. Isn’t she always,” Ann put on her best Sumire-voice, one with a higher pitched, more formal tone. “‘Oh, thank you Senpai for helping me with my routine.’”

He grimaced at the imitation, though it wasn’t for lack of trying for the model. She was trying to get into acting after all. “But Ryuji invites me to his track meets as well, we train when he’s free, and he doesn’t like me.”

The blonde rolled her eyes. “Oh, you definitely need new glasses. I think she likes you. And a certain someone else does, too, but that’s beside the point. You should ask her about the flyer.” She turned to her girlfriend. “Who else do you think likes Akira?”  

“What about Yuuki?” Shiho asked, the picture of innocence. “He’s always giving you that star-struck look after you helped him with those bullies.” 

Now he’s incredulous. Mishima? He gawked at the two girls, eyes wide at their suggestions. “It was just that one time! Okay, maybe two or three times. I felt bad,” he said helplessly, flinging his hands in a motion of - what else could I do? - though that’s certainly not helping his case. He liked Mishima as a friend, but he could be a lot sometimes. 

Ann cackled at that. “You’re hopeless, Akira. You’ll help everyone and they’ll just fall for you, because you’re that kind of guy.” 

He wanted to protest, but it was true, he did go out on a limb to help a lot of people…This was all becoming a lot to process. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Was there anyone else you had in mind?” 

There’s hesitation in the way Ann and Shiho exchange a look. Unlike the previous two suggestions, they’re contemplating this one. “This one is more hearsay…” Ann started.

He raised his eyebrows at that. “And the others weren’t?”

“Well… we have our theory. And I know you haven’t thought of Sumire or Mishima in that way, but this one could be an option, maybe? If Ryuji doesn’t work out.” Shiho’s not meeting his gaze.

“Not like he wouldn’t.” He heard Ann mutter to herself. 

He’s not going to like this next idea one bit, is he? “What’s one more theoretical crush to add to the pile? Let’s hear it.” 

Ann took a deep breath, preparing herself for Akira’s reaction. “Akechi Goro.”

Akira doesn’t laugh often. He’s not the most serious guy in the world, but he does try to keep some semblance of neutrality, a poker face of sorts, when appropriate. This would have been that time. And yet, Akira began to quake with peels of laughter, leaning forward in his chair and holding onto his stomach. He wipes away at his eyes after a few seconds. “That’s pretty funny, you guys.” But then he saw Ann and Shiho’s unamused expressions. “Oh, you were serious.”

Ann exclaimed, “Of course we’re serious, Akira! I know your Prince Charming is our resident dense athlete Sakamoto Ryuji, but…” 

He interrupted her, shaking his head. “It’s not happening.” 

“Don’t even want to think about it?” Shiho asked, confusion laced in her words. 

“No.” It couldn’t hurt to ask Sumire and Mishima, but if he asked Akechi… He would be tormented to no end, wouldn’t he? A snarky remark thrown his way, a thinly veiled insult. That was how they worked. It felt unfathomable to even think about. They were like oil and water,  they didn’t mix well together. Sure, they attended Sumire’s competitions together and played chess on occasion, but as pretty as the third year Vice President was, he didn’t think of him like that. 

The bell rang and that was his cue. Without much aplomb, he grabbed his bags and made his way back to class, Ann and Shiho calling after him. 

“Akira, get back here!” 

“We’re not done talking about this yet!” 

[What Akira learned after this was all said and done - They were right. They - all his friends - were just getting started.]

After School - Library

He saw Ryuji twice a week for tutoring. 

While studying for an exam was far from Akira’s mind, it apparently also was, for Ryuji, as well. The track star comes bursting in through the library doors (as always, he’s halfheartedly told to shush and be quiet and not so loudmouthed by the student librarian), waving at the bespectacled teen excitedly before sliding in right next to him at their table in the corner of the room. Akira got a whiff of sports deodorant and sun, a typical Ryuji scent that he has grown to adore. 

Ryuji skipped straight to the point. “I saw you got a secret admirer. So who do ya’ think it is, huh? Anyone I know?” He waggled his eyebrows. 

“Er…” This was dangerous territory to enter. Because talking about who it could be could lead into a discussion of who he wanted it to be. Of all the things he wanted to talk about with Ryuji, that was near the bottom of his list. Akira wanted to take his crush on the track star down to a watery grave and would kindly rather have Ryuji never find out about it, thank you very much. 

He tried to settle on opening their textbook right in front of them and pulling up last night’s homework to review from Chuono-sensei. They need to go over their short answer questions in English and he needs to check Ryuji’s grammar and spelling. He tells him as much, keeping himself from looking at his friend’s brown eyes and shit-eating grin. 

But the blond isn’t having any of that. “C’mon, man! Don’t be sly. You probably have a ton of admirers, in fact. Just look at you, you’re the whole package deal.”

“Not as much as you,” Akira countered weakly, but the thought of Ryuji thinking of him as someone to be admired made his stomach flip. He wished one of those admirers was him. 

“Psh, all a bunch of fangirls,” Ryuji’s flippant about that, brushing away the question. “Now ya gotta tell me, dude. How many hearts did the great Kurusu Akira steal?”

“We narrowed it down to three. Yoshizawa Sumire, Mishima Yuuki, and…” Akira’s reluctant to admit the last one. Ann and Shiho had a field day over it, and he has no doubt that Ryuji’s reaction would be the same. But…The track star was leaning in closer with one arm around his shoulder and it’s distracting. He’s always distracting, especially with how touchy and close he is with people he’s comfortable with, and right now, Akira the object of those (platonic) affections, it made him want to burn on the spot. 

“Oh, it must be a good one.” He’s grinning close to his ear and if Akira’s blush isn’t obvious now, it certainly should be, the way burned in the tips of his ears and made its way now to his neck.

“Don’t laugh…” He scowled. Ugh, this was so embarrassing to admit and to his crush of all people. And it was something he certainly didn’t want getting around school. Goro would have his head. 

Ryuji mock saluted with his free hand. “Scout’s honor. So…”

He took a deep breath and let it out, “Akechi Goro.”

Ryuji didn’t have much of a reaction to Sumire and Yuuki, but the mention of the Shujin class Vice President’s name had him flabbergasted. “Him?!” 

Akira squawked and flailed his hands at him, in particular  to the librarian, who’s shooting them the dirtiest looks. “Can you be any louder? I’m not sure the entire library heard you yet.” 

The blond tried again, bringing his next words down a few decibels. “So… Mr. Pretty-Boy Vice Prez has his eyes on you, too, huh?” There was something in Ryuji’s eyes, Akira noted, seeing how they flared up. It was almost like… jealousy. 

But that was probably a trick of the light. 

Still, he wrinkled his nose at the idea. First Ann and Shiho, and now Ryuji. “I doubt it’s him,” he settled on. “It’s hardly his style.” 

Ryuji’s barely-there brows furrowed in thought, silent after that. This, Akira knew, after a few months of tutoring him, was uncharacteristic of his quick-to-react, ‘I run too fast for my thoughts’ self.    

“Do you want it to be Akechi?” He finally said. It’s quieter, it felt finite and almost defeated for some reason, though Akira couldn’t parse out why.  

He does not want to be talking about this with Ryuji right now. “It’s not important who I think it could be. For all I know it could be a prank, har-har-har a joke on the transfer student.” 

Was it his imagination or did Ryuji’s eyes burn brighter at that notion? Ryuji slapped a hand on the desk - not loud enough to cause the librarian to come over but enough for a stray paper to jostle at the motion. “Are they still givin’ you shit for that? It’s been months! Do ya want me to have a word with ‘em?” 

“Makoto and Goro have it handled,” is all Akira responded with. He doesn’t want to elaborate on how having two of the most elite members of the Student Council in the palm of his hands (unintentional as it was) was quite a terrifying power in of itself. It’s not something to be taken lightly.  

“Right, Goro…” He scoffed, looking down at his shoes, seemingly frowning at Akira’s use of the intimidating Vice President’s first name. 

Akira took his lack of response to switch gears into tutoring, though that later proved to be a failure. Chuono-sensei’s assignment was a strange one (though all the English assignments were rather strange, to be fair), to decipher the meaning of some English slang and use their own example. When someone was sweet, when someone was salty, when someone was thirsty… the last one made him chuckle to himself. Sensei had described it in class as someone desperate to ask you out, strangely fitting for his situation. 

If only he knew who was ‘thirsty’ for him.

Ryuji had gotten most of them right, but there were some nuances he had to correct, primarily over some of the flavor-based descriptors. “I think you mixed up the meaning of a person who’s salty with someone who is ‘sour’,” he said, turning over to the blond. 

But now Ryuji’s inattentive, more so than usual, tapping his pencil incessantly against the table and jiggling his leg against the wooden chair. “Huh? Yeah… I’m not so sure, man.”

Akira’s patient with him, always, but even he can tell something is off. 

It continued like this for a few more minutes, with his answers to Akira’s questions about the homework still subpar, and he doesn’t have any questions of his own. 

Though he doesn’t want to broach the subject again, there needs to be some way to get their session back on track, right? He placed his hand atop Ryuji’s, the one on the desk, in an effort to calm him, though Ryuji practically jumped out of his skin at the contact, pulling away his hand and abruptly standing from his seat. “Look, I’m not feeling this study session today, dude. Mind if we reschedule it?” 

“S-sure?” Ryuji left with a nod of his head, quickly rushing out of the room without another word. The way he pulled his hand away from his… hurt . He hoped that wasn’t too much or too forward or too revealing about his own feelings. And now Akira’s alone in the library again deep in his angst with only a few diligent students keeping him company, as well as the librarian, who may or may not have been casting him a look of understanding.  

What was that about?

[Akira learned much later that Ryuji was very ‘salty’ over the thought of Goro liking him] 

20XX - 02/02 - Friday - After School - Inokashira Park 

(Days until Secret Admirer Reveals Identity: 12)

Ann managed to get a hold of him during the next day of classes and encouraged (an understatement, she flat out told him to do it or endure never knowing) him to get a start on asking around. He had spent the night prior replaying what had happened with Ryuji, and it wasn’t going to get him anywhere if he dwelled on it for much longer. Might as well focus his energy at the end of the school year devoting his energies towards something productive, right? 

Sumire’s first on the list, because well, he was meeting up with her anyway. Of the three, her response would be the most uncomplicated, whether or not she liked him. 

He brought it up to the red-haired gymnast while they worked out at Inokashira Park. It’s not that he thinks Sumire likes him in that way. It’s casual in the way he asked, as if he was just asking her opinion on the weather or what she thought of that new TV show that aired last night. 

But if she did like him, she wouldn’t outright declare her feelings for him to the whole school. It didn’t seem to be her style. 

Sumire said as much as they stretched. 

“You think I sent you that confession?” Akira nodded (though he wants to clarify that it’s Ann and Shiho who think that) and she smiled sympathetically. “I’m sorry, Senpai, if I may have led you on. You’re certainly someone to admire and you are rather attractive, but to be honest, my attention has been elsewhere, lately.”

Oh? Sumire’s got her own love problems? Akira motioned for them to sit at the bench - they’ve been at it for awhile and could afford to take a short break. 

“It’s not like he’ll notice me in a romantic sense.” She appeared downtrodden with that admission, though she quickly perked back up. “But he does push me to be my best… kind of how you push me, Senpai!” But a few seconds later, she seemed to realize what that implied and Akira saw how her face heated up. She waved her arms at him anxiously. “It’s not you, though. I hope you don’t get the wrong idea. The person I like… is very complicated. He can be very harsh, but he can also be very kind.” 

Akira noticed how…happy she was thinking of her crush, the way her eyes crinkled at the edges and how she twirled a strand of her hair, clearly lost in thought. Is that what I look like when I talk about Ryuji? 

“Do I know this person? Maybe I could talk to him for you. Maybe he likes you and you don’t even know it.” 

Sumire waved him off. “It is fine. Though it pains me to know that it is unreciprocated, I am content the way we are now. But whoever sent you that card really must hold you in high regard for a declaration like that,” she remarked, in an effort to change the topic. 

Before Akira could respond to her, he heard the sound of multiple footsteps against the ground and a familiar voice calling out over the din. He turned his head and saw that the track team was making laps around the park in the middle of winter. A face - equally as familiar as the loud voice itself - was at the helm of the practice, leading them with a rallying cry. 

Akira wanted to look for longer than deemed appropriate - he made running look easy, even as light snow fell all around them. He wouldn’t call it graceful, but Ryuji made it look natural, like he lived and breathed running. His friend Yusuke, the artist that he is, would even call such a description picturesque and wax eloquently about the composition, something along those lines. 

“Our track team really is amazing, wouldn’t you say?” Sumire’s voice broke him out of his thoughts. 

Akira realized how this must look. He hoped he didn’t sigh or swoon as he ogled his crush. He looks back at her and she’s beaming at him. It wasn’t teasing like Ann’s or scheming like his sister Futaba’s, but it was knowing. Like a secret was shared just between them. 

“Um… We could go back to training?” Now it’s his turn to change the subject. 

“We could, but…” Sumire pointed and Akira followed the direction. “It appears that someone from the track team is coming towards us?” 

Ryuji’s walking towards them, waving off his teammates for a short break. “Hey, Akira! Hi, Yoshizawa-san.”

He surveyed the two of them and Akira can feel the heat of his gaze on him in particular. He had a feeling he knew what the gears in the blond’s head were processing, seeing the two of them together like this. “Didn’t think I’d see you train out in the snow.”

“Akira-senpai and I were wrapping up our exercises,” Sumire said cheerfully. “Training in the snow can build endurance.” She tilted her head towards Akira. “He’s told me a lot about your routine. There are a lot of similarities to gymnastics. Right, Senpai?” That was clearly a front. She’s definitely put 2 and 2 together. He had to hand it to Sumire for being convincing (she could give Ann a run for her money when it came to acting).

But he’s going to blame whatever redness he feels on his face on the snow when Ryuji grinned at him. “Is that so? I don’t hear this flattery from you when we’re together dude.” 

“Might accidentally inflate your ego if I do,” Akira tossed back, even if the butterflies in his stomach had emerged.

Ryuji responded by stepping forward and into his space, ruffling his hair. The butterflies are now full-force in the noiret’s stomach. “Maybe I’d like that.” Gray eyes meet warm brown ones. 

A sharp, chirping ringtone was heard, and the two of them jumped apart, remembering that Sumire was still there with them. But the gymnast just giggled and picked up her phone. “It’s my sister, I’ll need to take this!” She walked off, leaving the two of them alone. 

While Sumire’s on the phone, engrossed in whatever conversation she’s having, Ryuji shifted gears to focus all of his attention back to the other teen, nudging his side with his elbow lightly. “I still can’t believe you did gymnastics when you were younger, man. Is there anything you aren’t good at?” 

Getting you to like me is one. But Akira doesn’t say that. 

“That reminds me…didya figure out if Sumire is your Secret Admirer?” He kicked at a patch of snow that’s by his feet. 

“As expected, she wasn’t.”

“Oh, well… sorry to hear that, man. Didya want her to be?” Immediately, Akira thought back to how he asked that question yesterday when it was about Goro , how defeated he seemed - almost like a kicked puppy. But now he appeared relatively unbothered. 

I want you to be my Admirer. Akira just shrugged. “Not really.” 

“Sorry to cut this short, but my sister wants to meet up early to go over our routine for the next competition.” Sumire’s call in the distance breaks the air. Upon her return, she snuck furtive glances between the blond and the bespectacled teen, wondering if anything happened while she was away. Nothing had. “Good luck, Senpai!” She settled on saying instead. 

‘Good luck?!’ Did she wink at him? He’s shocked at the underlying meaning in those words. 

“Good luck with what?” Ryuji turned to him as the gymnast walked away. He doesn’t push it, which Akira was grateful for. “Yo, you free this Sunday?”

“Hm?” Sakamoto Ryuji, asking him if he’s free? They had their own groups of friends - Ryuji with his track buddies and Akira with his ragtag group. The only time they ever really saw each other was during tutoring and the occasional ramen at Ogikubo here and there, so invites from the blonde still surprised him. 

“It’s nuthin’ special. Just wanted to treat ya for helping me out so much lately with tutoring and all. My ma’s really happy with my grades and wants me to thank whoever’s responsible. Guess that’s you?” He teased. 

Akira wanted to accept, he really did, but… “I’m sorry, Yusuke asked me to attend his newest exhibition at Ueno this Sunday.” 

“Oh, Yusuke. Your art friend, right?” Ryuji’s shoulders slumped forward. “Man, it’s so hard getting a hold of you sometimes! Feel like I need to book a month in advance just to spend time with ya!” 

Akira blushed at that, feeling guilty. He did have to turn down Ryuji from time-to-time, but it wasn’t without good reason! Plus, if he spent any more time around the blond, his crush would have been more and more evident. 

“Did you want to join us? I can ask Yusuke if that’s alright, but knowing him he’d be delighted to have another person to talk their head off about his newest piece.” 

“Art’s not really my thing, but you have fun.” He patted Akira on the shoulder. 

“Oi! Sakamoto, quit flirting and get back here! We’re burning daylight.” One of his teammates shouts out.  

“Tch, really guys?” The blond muttered. Now it’s Ryuji’s turn to look sheepish and red, “Guess that’s my cue. I’ll see you Monday, dude!” 

20XX - 02/04 - Sunday - Daytime - Ueno Art Gallery

(Days until Secret Admirer Reveals Identity: 10)

The next calling card was delivered during the Ueno exhibit, as he walked through the hallways of the gallery with Futaba and Yusuke. Yusuke’s pointing out what each brush stroke means and his girlfriend (and Akira’s sister) is only happy to compare them to video games she’s played in the past, the two of them occasionally bickering over who was correct. 

Akira’s watching them with amusement. He’s happy Futaba’s found someone that made her feel content, happy Ann has Shiho, and Makoto has Haru. He only wished he had someone, and his mind drifted to a certain blond athlete. 

“Excuse me, are you Kurusu Akira?” A person asked, breaking him out of his thoughts. Akira turned and saw that it's a museum guide.

“I was told to give this to you?” She sounded confused about the entirety of this situation (Akira can’t blame her) and handed him a card. 

It’s the same card as before, all black and red and white with a familiar logo of a top hat and catchphrase to take his heart. But Akira’s heart was already taken. He flips it over and reads the card carefully.  

Kurusu Akira, a great beauty with inexhaustible talent. You have committed the crime of stealing my heart and have made me shameless in flirting with you. Come Valentine's Day, I will confess to you my feelings from my own mouth without fail. 

From, Your Secret Admirer 

A great beauty? Him? And it was someone who flirted with him, though Akira could not pinpoint who would do such a thing. Though… He thought back to what Ryuji’s teammate said the other day, and shook his head. That wasn’t flirting. That was just Ryuji being nice. 

“Helloooo, earth to Akira!” Futaba’s waving her hands in front of him, noticing her adopted brother had fallen behind them. 

“Huh?” The computer hacker took that moment to snatch the card from his hands. “Hey, that’s mine!” 

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Hush, I’ll give it back to you.” She studied the card in her hand. “So these are the calling cards you’ve been getting.”

“You know about them?”  

“Ann told me. Didn’t think my older brother was a thief of hearts,” she said wickedly. 

Akira groaned. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m no thief. Still single.” 

“I’m not so sure about that. Ann told me you might have a few potential admirers.” 

He didn’t realize his love life (or lack thereof) was starting to become gossip amongst his friend group and even into his family. “It’s not any of your business.” He crossed his arms, but it’s all for naught. Futaba’s starting to get her scheming face on. 

“Muwhehe. You say that, bro, but maybe to me and to everyone else, this could be like a mission. We want you to be happy. How does this sound, Operation: Unmask Your Secret Admirer! Or Mission: Get You a Date for Valentine’s Day.” 

“‘Taba…” She’s definitely been playing too many games again.

“I could hack the security cameras and see which of those admirers was in the area. Maybe you’ll recognize them,” she offered casually, though Akira knows that to be a serious offer if he wanted it to be.  

As tempting as the idea was and as much as he wanted to find out the identity of this Secret Admirer, he did not need to turn to borderline criminal activity. 

“Okay, fine, I won’t hack into the museum. What about asking Inari?” She pointed to the artist, who was lost in his own world, in front of his painting. “Inari has a good eye for these things, maybe he’ll point you in the right direction. Art’s his forte and all.” 

“But Yusuke goes to Kosei. Doubt he’d know who it was.” 

“You’re not thinking, Akira!” She grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him over to the art student. “Character profiling. He could paint a picture, heh, of who it could be!” 

Yusuke doesn’t get him any closer to cracking the case, but he does paint a rather vivid picture, indeed. “It is rather crude and inelegant in form, but there’s a certain beauty about it, don’t you think? And the message of the letter itself, the writer pouring out their heart for you to see. It must be someone you know, Akira. They speak of a personal intimacy that comes from the soul, perhaps a wish to know you on a multitude of levels. Emotionally, spiritually, carnally…” 

“Carnally?!” 

Futaba’s just cackling from behind him. 

Alas, the artist ignored Akira and continued on with his musings. “Designing a calling card… it speaks of passion, it speaks of desire to make itself known. If you do find out the creator of these, please do have them reach out to me.”

But Yusuke… I was asking you so you can help me find them… 

Still, the artist remained in his own world “...I would love to collaborate with them, and would love to discuss their methodology. Did they take inspiration from Van Gogh? From Pollock? There is also the Tarashikomi technique… “

Futaba leaned next to Akira and pulled him aside, gesturing to her boyfriend. “See? Didn’t that help?” Her expression says anything but, and he has a feeling this was to prove a point. She’s snickering, “Well, Inari’s no use when he’s like that. Still up for some good ole hacking?” 

“Still no.” 

20XX - 02/06 - Tuesday - Evening - Wilton Hotel

(Days until Secret Admirer Reveals Identity: 8)

Ann: Soooo how’s it going bestie? 

Akira: Not great. 

Ann: Turn that frown upside down and ask Mishima next, why don’t you? Or would you rather ask Goro?

Akira: I’d rather not. 

Akira tried his hand at asking Mishima next but the volleyball player took it the wrong way. They’re looking for somewhere to eat after class, and Mishima’s been eyeing the Wilton Buffet something fierce. 

“Jeez, Akira, I didn’t know you felt that way about me. It feels so out of the blue, you know? But I guess it makes sense you would, I was one of your few first friends in Shujin, I’ve been with you the whole time, tried to ward off the naysayers about your reputation…” 

The noiret decides it was a mistake to bring it up when they’re about to be seated, because once Yuuki gets an idea in his head, it’s kind of difficult to snap him out of it. Which reminded him of many of his other friends, a certain Kosei student, to name one. 

He’s also eyeing the prices of the buffet, and he sure hoped he’s getting treated for this, because tutoring alone and his other part-time jobs were not enough to front the bill. 

“...But I’m going to have to decline.” 

What? 

“Yeah, got a date for Valentine’s Day. Can you believe it? You might know her from our class.” He pulls out his phone to show Akira the proof, giddy about the news. “She asked me out last week! I am so hyped.”

Akira skimmed through the messages. Sure enough, Mishima was telling the truth. 

“But sorry to turn you down. You’re a great guy and I’m sure there’s someone out there that likes you. Maybe try asking Sakamoto?” 

What?!

Mishima threw his hands up in defense. “Don’t shoot the messenger.” 

Akira scoffed. “Your messenger is probably an unreliable source, no offense, Mishima.” 

“I’m just saying, you and him could be pretty good together.” They’re interrupted by the hostess directing them to a table. “Think about it, the track star of Shujin with ‘too-cool Kurusu’, and I’m the one who brought them together. Speaking of, it’s just the two of us, so don’t be afraid to go all out! Think of it as a wingman’s expense. What were you thinking of getting?” 

If he’s going to listen to his friend give him pointers (though he didn’t realize the guy had it in him to get a date, so good job Mishima!), he might as well get the most expensive thing on the menu. He picked steak. 

“Steak’s perfect for guys like us! It’s all-you-can-eat, so let’s make sure we get our money’s worth.” 

But Akira’s curious where this ‘wingman’s expense’ even came from. 

“You know how I’ve been running that Shujin Secrets site?” He knew Mishima moonlighted as a computer geek, with skills almost on par with Futaba’s. Akira tried to support his endeavors on occasion by taking on some of the tasks - it’s partially how he made such a motley friend group. “I mentioned how expensive it can be to run an anonymous school helpline, and the donations I got were pretty… generous to say the least. I guess our sponsors wanted to show support!” 

That sounded amazing, but there’s also something odd about using website donations for food. “Mishima… you know the only ones who really use the site are Shujin students.” 

Now Mishima looked guilty. “When you put it like that, expensive buffets really don’t count as website expenses. I guess I should give it back. I was going to explain my whole plan of getting you together with Sakamoto, too.” 

Akira’s really glad he talked Mishima out of it because that could have gone sideways quickly. And he certainly didn’t want to hear any hair-brained schemes concerning his crush that had a success rate of zero. He patted him solemnly on the shoulder. “It’s okay, Yuuki. Let’s get some food at Triple 7.”

20XX - 02/07 - Wednesday - After School - School Library  

(Days until Secret Admirer Reveals Identity: 7)

“Ya end up finding out if Mishima or… Akechi’s your admirer?” Ryuji ended his question with vehemence, as if Goro’s name was acid upon his tongue. 

A part of Akira wanted to lecture the faux blond again about his ill-timed inquisitiveness during their next tutoring session, but a part of him doesn’t. His crush was within touching distance again, their sides pressed together and flustering Akira something fierce. His knee was knocking against Ryuji’s! And his hands sometimes wandered - Ryuji was fidgety and that translated into his hands occasionally brushing his thighs or even his waist. 

He’s still not used to Ryuji’s brand of closeness that’s somehow developed over the months of them working together in the library. 

In an imaginary world Ryuji would put an arm around his shoulder and it would be romantic… but Akira’s seen him do it tons of times with the guys on the track team after winning a race. 

It wasn’t like he paid too much attention to what Ryuji did during those meets. Definitely not. 

But yes, back to tutoring. He pulled out Hiruta-sensei’s assignment this time on the happiness case study. “Mishima was a bust. He’s got himself a date, actually.”

Ryuji looked surprised but made no effort to actually pull out his homework. “Really? What’s he got that we don’t?” 

Akira tried to think on that, because Mishima, without the hero worship, was actually an okay person. “He’s a volleyball player, he’s pretty good with computers, wants to help others-”

“Don’t tell me ya actually wanted Mishima to be your secret admirer?” Ryuji cut him off. 

“What are you saying, Ryuji? Are you offering to take his place?” Maybe the proximity to his crush was getting to his head, making him bold.

“Do ya’ want me to?” Brown eyes full of mirth stared back at him. 

Akira tilted his head and put a finger to his lips in mock thought. “That depends. Are we going to actually get back to this tutoring session?” 

Ryuji groaned. “Man, you’re such a nerd.” He sounds almost fond the way he says it, but he’s complying with Akira and pulling out his homework nonetheless. “Yeah, yeah. We’ll do the homework.”

Thankfully the rest of the hour is mostly calm, though Akira finds himself constantly glancing over at Ryuji, as indiscreetly as he can. It had to be a blessing and a curse that he had a crush on someone he was tutoring, the most attractive guy in school. His friends didn’t get the appeal, but perhaps Akira’s type was loud, bleach blond stars of the track team, with sculpted muscles and smiles that lit up the room. 

And lips that, more often as of late, he’d be dreaming of kissing. 

“Uh, Akira… is there something on my face, dude? A stain from lunch or somethin’? Ya been lookin’ at me funny for a while now.” 

Apparently, he was not indiscreet enough.

The noiret scrambled to come up with something, anything, that doesn’t implicate him. “Y-your roots are showing!” 

Ryuji lifted a hand to his hair and ran his fingers through it, sighing in disappointment. “For real? I have to get them touched up before next week.”

“What’s next week?” Though Akira fully knows what next week is. It’s the week of Valentine’s Day, of course the track star was getting ready for a date. His heart sank. 

“Hm… well, you’re top of the grade, I’m sure ya can figure out what next week is,” he teased. “I’m makin’ a little gamble. Tryna to play my cards right, if ya catch my drift.” He glanced down at Akira, in a spur of the moment decision, twirled one of Akira’s stray curls around his finger. 

Akira’s breath caught in his throat. He definitely didn’t do this with the track team. But still… Why would it be him, if he could have anyone in school? He wasn’t sure if he wanted Ryuji to spell it out for him, for fear of further heartbreak. 

The blond’s eyes widened in alarm at Akira’s lack of response. He muttered under his breath as he gathered his books, “Looks like it’ll be down to the wire for me, then.” 

“What was that?”

“A-aha, it looks like Takeishi wants me to come to practice a few minutes early. See ya’ later, dude!” 

20XX - 02/09 - Friday - After School - Shibuya - Diner   

(Days until Secret Admirer Reveals Identity: 5)

Ann: hey can you tell mako and haru that shiho’s down with the double date idea for vday

Ann: it can be a triple date if you get your butt in gear and figure out your admirer 

Ann: think of the couples deals !! 

The stress of the upcoming holiday hit Akira hard over the next few days, so much that he doesn’t notice the next calling card until Haru and Makoto point it out to him over Frui-Teas at the diner.

“Akira-kun, there’s something red sticking out of your book.”

He opened his notebook. There it was, another calling card. But he didn’t see one before while it was in class. Maybe it was in his notebook when he got it out of his locker. 

The logo looks more polished this time around, almost professionally done. But back remains the same, another proclamation that a confession would come on Valentine’s Day. It had to have been the same person for all three. Maybe his Admirer wanted to step up their game?  

Kurusu Akira, the beguiling brainiac. Your wit has won me over and I would like to indulge in more of your time, if you will have me. I have decided to step up my game and do more than confess and steal your heart. Come Valentine’s Day, you’ll know where to find me. I know you’re smart! 

From, Your Secret Admirer

“These calling cards are getting out of hand,” Makoto sighed. “It’s been, what, three cards now? And you still haven’t figured out your secret admirer?” 

“But you have to admit, Mako-chan, they are quite romantic!” The auburn-haired girl giggled. “They have an air of mystery about them, would you agree?” 

“Yes,” the class president conceded. “Though I’ve never seen you so worked up over something like this. Shouldn’t you be happy, Akira? There’s someone out there who likes you.”  

When Makoto put it like that, ever the voice of reason, he should be happy, shouldn’t he be? Someone was taking an interest in him. Even if Ann and Shiho were wrong about multiple people being interested in him (he knew it in his bones that Goro, if and when he asked him, would be a flat out rejection and a forthcoming butting of heads), there was someone out there that liked him. But a part of him felt…

“...that it’s a joke,” he told his friends. “Despite what everyone thinks, why would someone like me in that way? I don’t feel like I’m ‘too-cool Kurusu’, especially to this person who says they like me.” 

“Akira-kun, don’t say that!” Haru cried out, getting up out of her seat to comfort her friend. She wrapped her arms around him and for a short third-year, her hugs packed a punch, squeezing the air out of him.

Once Haru’s done (and after Akira calmed down), Makoto reached over and placed her hand atop his, rubbing circles on his skin with her thumb. She’s not the most affectionate person, but he knew the smallest gestures from her were meant with utmost sincerity. “Akira,” she began, gently, “you know that’s not true. You may not have been here long, but many of your friends, in some way or another, have all fallen a little bit in love with you for all the wonderful qualities you possess. It only makes sense that someone in our school noticed you for being… you, and wants to let you know how they feel.” 

“That’s why we all want you to be happy,” Haru says firmly. “We’d be able to tell right away if someone wasn’t genuine in their intentions towards you. They’d regret their actions…deeply.” 

There’s a chill in the air with that statement. And Akira knew when the Okumura Foods heiress meant business. 

“Look, we’ll get to the bottom of this,” Makoto tried to pivot their attention back to the cards, and away from the fact that her girlfriend could be terrifying when she wanted to be. “Do you have the others?” 

He gave the other two to her and they began their examination. Makoto, for one, treated this as a test and studied each side of the card for clues intently, scribbling down notes in her book as Haru offered her own analysis.  

Maybe having a public prosecutor for an older sister was rubbing off on her. 

“We can go over the facts first. Your Secret Admirer writes as if they’re someone you know. It would be odd if it was someone you weren’t close to. They call you… a charming thief of hearts, a great beauty with inexhaustible talent, and a beguiling brainiac,” she read off each of the compliments, they’re all seeped with feelings of adulation. 

“They have a way with words!” Haru added. 

“You’ve been narrowing it down, haven’t you?” Makoto asked.

“It’s not Sumire, nor is it Mishima. Ann and Shiho also suggested Goro… “ Akira paused, “but they really think it’s Ryuji. I think everyone thinks it’s Ryuji.” He recalled the events of the last few days. Ann and Shiho’s giggles, Sumire’s knowing gaze, Mishima’s matchmaking, even Ryuji’s teammates had something to say. 

But the most damning evidence was right in front of him, twice a week. He just didn’t want to acknowledge it just yet. 

“It doesn’t feel real…” He admits. “What if I’m wrong? What if I’m setting myself up for disappointment in the end?” 

Now Haru grabbed on to Akira’s other hand and held it tightly in hers. Both girls are holding his hands from across the table, giving the noiret the sternest of looks. 

“”But what if it’s not disappointment that’s at the end of this, Akira-kun? You should be optimistic.”

“And realistic. This person - Ryuji or not - knows you - and wants to make it work. Now it’s up to you to decide how you want that to go.” 

“What if I want to be logical about this first before coming to a conclusion?” A process of elimination, which is what it’s been since the start. But in this case, it’s no longer logical in the slightest. He knew it’s avoidance. 

Haru and Makoto look at each other, then back at Akira. There’s just a hint of reluctant acceptance in their eyes. Akira can be stubborn when he wants to be and if that’s the case, there’s nothing they could do but offer their advice, right?

Makoto’s the one to speak. “Alright, Akira. You can run away from this a little while longer. The answer's closer than you think.”

20XX - 02/10 - Saturday - After School - Student Council Office  

(Days until Secret Admirer Reveals Identity: 4)

Akira: I’m going to do the thing wish me luck

Ann: that thing?? As futaba says, glhf 

Ann: if you live to tell the tale, can you tell goro that it’s been a minute and we should catch up over crepes ty 

Akira asked Akechi flat out if he was the one to send him those cards, and the Shujin Class Vice President had the gall to laugh at him, having acquiesced to spend a few minutes after class humoring his request in the Student Council office. 

“For one thing, Kurusu, if I were to woo you, I would have picked a far subtler method of flattery to your heart.” 

Akira had a love-hate relationship with Akechi’s cryptic nature, and today was one of the days he hated it. But then Goro got right to the point, echoing what everyone else had said before, in different words.

“You are one of the top students of your year, Kurusu. But anyone with a brain can see the answer that’s right in front of you. It’s no wonder you are both so well-matched.” It was another one of the Vice President’s special abilities, to insult you and compliment you in one fell swoop. 

Akira wondered where Goro picked up the knack to be contrary. He decides to switch up the subject, he didn’t want to be going in circles over this with yet another person. And besides, he’s curious about something. He didn’t just go to the Vice President to ask whether or not he was his Secret Admirer (when it was so clear already what the answer was). He was first in his year for a reason, after all. Might as well put those smarts to good use sometimes. “Are you going to Sumire’s competition next week, Goro? ”

“Why do you ask?” The shift in topic caught him off guard and Goro narrowed his eyes at him, suspicious.  

“I might not be able to make it.” Akira offered the lie as bait. Goro wasn’t the only one who could play being mysterious. 

The brunet pinched the bridge of his nose, irritation growing by the second. “Are you seriously missing what is probably one of her biggest competitions to date? But it doesn't matter, I’ll record it and you can watch later when I help her upload it to her channel. It is your loss, Kurusu.” 

“It would be a great opportunity for you and her to catch up. She did mention that it’s been awhile since she last saw you.” 

Was that guilt he saw in Goro’s face? “Well, I have been busy, but I suppose I could invite her out to Miel et crepes to make amends… What is it that you are planning?” But whatever it was, it was now replaced with an expression of annoyance.

“Nothing, Goro. You know me.” He whistled with a facsimile of innocence. It was true enough, he was just here to plant some seeds. 

“I sure do.” At that, Goro smirked, and stood up, taking his signature briefcase with him, ending their meeting with a slight bow of his head.  

He called out to the brunet’s retreating form. “Denial is a river in Egypt and you’re swimming in it!” 

“If I’m swimming in it, you’re drowning.” Goro shot back over his shoulder. 

“Rude,” Akira huffed to himself, though it’s with a smile. 

That conversation revealed nothing and everything at once, and Akira’s still happy over what he’s learned as he walks out of the office and towards the stairs. Goro and Sumire, huh… when did that transpire? They couldn’t be anything more different, except, well… there is that competitive streak. He was looking forward to how that would play out. Now if only he and Ryu-AH!

So lost in his thoughts over the conversation, that he failed to notice a person in front of him, the one his thoughts had started to stray towards. One Sakamoto Ryuji. He nearly lost his balance, but the blonde reached out to steady him on the stairwell. 

“Whoa. You okay, dude?” He hears Ryuji’s concern and it sounds muffled under him. 

Under him?

Akira realized how this looks. Ryuji’s gripping his elbow and in return, Akira’s sort of careened forward, his other hand bunched up in the blond’s yellow shirt. His face is practically in Ryuji’s chest. 

Can the ground swallow me whole, please? 

He straightened himself out, let go of Ryuji’s shirt to stand a respectable distance away and coughed into his hand. “T-that wasn’t what it looked like.”

Though the track star looks equally as flustered as he was, looking back and forth between Akira and the imprint of his hand on his shirt, he managed to still compose himself and look concerned on Akira’s behalf. “Ya sure? You almost fell down a flight of stairs.”

“Yeah, I got a lot on my mind.”

“Well, if ya need someone to talk to… even if you already have a lot of other people you can go to, ya know where to find me.” 

20XX - 02/13 - Tuesday - Evening - Leblanc

(Days until Secret Admirer Reveals Identity: 1)

Akira worked with Sojiro the night before Valentine’ Day. His foster father is convinced it’s to help him build character, though Akira knew it’s also to just spend quality time with his adopted son. 

“You alright, kid?” They’ve developed a routine of sorts. Akira seated and served the patrons, made the occasional coffee and curry (after months of whittling Sojiro down to teach him the tricks of the trade), and also cleaned the dishes. Only now he’s cleaning a little too intensely and Sojiro noticed, the perceptive father that he was. 

“I’m fine, really.” What wasn’t fine was this speck of dirt that wouldn’t disappear from the plate, no matter how hard he scrubbed at it. 

Sojiro sighed and walked to the kitchen where the bespectacled teen was heavily fixated on doing the dishes. He reached over Akira’s shoulder, snatching the plate from his hands. “If you’re fine, you wouldn’t be taking it out on these plates.” He turned the plate over and around to show Akira. “The plate is fine. You are not.”   

Akira hung his head, disappointed he was so obvious. “Yeah, I’m not.” 

“Then I think this calls for coffee, eh?” He gestured to the coffee machine. “Grab a seat and I’ll make us both a cup.”

A coffee later… 

“Futaba’s telling me you’ve been having some ‘love problems’,” Sojiro used quotations around those words, and Akira had to stifle a laugh. So it’s come down to talking to his foster father about this. 

“Back in my day, before I met Wakaba… hoo boy, I had a lot of ladies after me. Had to fend off a load of admirers, that’s for sure. But Wakaba was something else.” 

Even when his wife was just holed up at home, buried under piles of research, Sojiro still would get a faraway, starstruck look in his eye. 

“How’d you know Wakaba was the one ?” 

The Leblanc owner closed his eyes to think for a second, reminiscing about distant memories. “It was when she turned me down.” 

“What?” Oh, if this was trying to hype him up for tomorrow, his foster father was sorely mistaken. 

“Relax, kid. I haven’t finished the story yet,” Sojiro said, sensing Akira’s apprehension. “She was always different from the rest, a bit of a weird one. She was sharp-witted, somewhat stern, a little socially inept, but always carefree… After she turned me down, we became even closer, funny enough. She told me she wanted to fall in love with me at her own pace.”  

“And… she did,” Akira guessed, because it wouldn’t make sense otherwise. The lovey-dovey looks his foster parents gave each other when they thought he and Futaba weren’t looking were the types of looks couples gave when they wanted to be together for thousands of years…till the end of time and beyond.  

“She did. She even told me if I hadn’t asked her out in the first place, she wouldn’t have realized her own feelings for me, which were still growing. But… I’m sure we’re not having this conversation because you want to talk about your mother,” Sojiro said, wryly. 

Oh there it was. Akira took a deep breath, bracing his hands against the countertop. “I’m not sure I’m in a similar situation. Or maybe I am? I’ve liked someone, this guy I’ve been tutoring for almost a year, but I’m not sure confessing my feelings for him, or assuming he’s my Secret Admirer, will be like you and mom. I don’t even know if he likes guys, but he’s been giving me such mixed feelings lately.” 

Sojiro brought a hand to his chin, and stroked his goatee in contemplation. “But this guy you tutor… is he your friend? 

“Er…” Two weeks ago, he wasn’t so sure, but the way Ryuji had been acting lately, even if it was mixed signals, was so kind. Inviting him out, asking if he was okay, wanting to spend time with him, those were signs of friendship, and had been for months. He wasn’t sure where he stood with the blond in a romantic sense and wasn’t sure if that would change for tomorrow, but what he did know was that Ryuji was his friend. “...Yes.”

“Then I think you should still go for it and ask him if he’s your Admirer.” 

“But the rejection… what if he rejects me? 

“Rejection does hurt,” Sojiro agreed. “But even if he does reject you, just like your mother and I, we still remained friends after. And kid, you have to think positive, because what if it does work out?”

“But…”

Sojiro rested a hand on his shoulder, his gaze kind. “No buts. You should take chances, kid, the way I know you like taking chances with experimenting on my curry. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Akira: boss gave me a pep talk 

Ann: how did THAT go

Akira: surprisingly well but while sojiro knows I’m bi, he doesn’t know I’m a bi disaster

Akira: tomorrow will not go well 

Ann: chin up buttercup 

Ann: this could be your last day a single pringle 

Ann: and if not, ayce crepes on me and shiho 

Ann: you deserve the best akira, i hope you know that 

Ann: if ryuji doesn’t see that, well, it’s his loss 

Akira: who said it was going to be ryuji ?? 

Ann: ;) 

As he struggled to fall asleep after texting Ann, his phone lit up again. His cat, Morgana, yelped in irritation, most likely from the notifications going off at such a late hour. 

A part of him wanted to ignore the messages, because Ann said her piece, but who else could it be? 

It ended up being Ryuji. 

Ryuji: Hey, we have an exam coming up for Hiruta’s class. Wanna study tomorrow? Same time, same place.

It’s strange for him to be so diligent on Valentine’s Day, too. But Akira would never turn down a chance to see his crush. Even with the chance of him getting heartbroken. 

Akira: Sure. 

He didn't get any sleep that night, to say the least. 

20XX - 02/14 - Wednesday - After School - Leblanc

(Days until Secret Admirer Reveals Identity: 0)

“So how has your Valentine’s Day been going so far?” Nonchalant. Akira could be nonchalant as they work through their last-minute tutoring session. Maybe Ryuji will let him down gently by telling him he’s going on a date later, some girl from the volleyball team or gymnastics team. 

It’s not hard to notice that the blond looked more put together today. He’s wearing the school turtleneck, for one thing, complete with the suspenders, though the blazer’s still got the sleeves folded up. The white fabric molded well to his athletic form. Akira failed to stop staring at how good it looks on his chest, even if he does miss the casualness of his normal attire. His hair was also less out of place - was it styled with gel? His roots were also definitely touched up, exactly as he said the week before. Akira wanted to run his hands through it and ruffle it up. 

Ryuji’s got his hands stuffed into his pockets, and he’s looking at the ground, not meeting Akira’s gaze. “Eh, it’s been a’right. Got some chocolates but they weren’t really who I wanted to spend time with today.”

“Well, you shouldn’t give up hope yet. There’s still time after this tutoring session, you know,” Akira tried to keep his voice even as they went over practice questions from Hiruta’s class. There was something still nagging in the back of his head, so he tried, casually, as he circled over one incorrect answer on Ryuji’s paper, “By the way, we could have done this tomorrow. The test isn’t until next week. I doubt spending time in tutoring with me would be more fun than going on a date.”

It is then that Ryuji looked up at Akira, and this startled the noiret and broke him from his trance. “Whaddya mean? You’re here, so it's always fun. Did you get any chocolates?” He volleyed the question back. 

True to their words, Mishima, Goro, and Sumire did not send him any candy, nor did any other supposed ardent admirers. His friends suspected as much after their investigations and gossip amongst each other last week. So much for being 'too-cool Kurusu'. “Nah, guess my Secret Admirer chickened out.” 

The blond looked at him, and Akira felt the piercing scrutiny of his gaze. “Is that so? Didya look hard enough?” He asks evenly. 

“I embarrassed myself a few times in front of some friends, if you can call it that. So yes, I think I looked hard enough.” 

Ryuji actually chuckled at him. “Man, Akira, for such a smart guy…” he trailed off, “it doesn’t matter. Sorry ya had to go through that. If it makes ya feel better, you don’t have to look any further.”

Wait. 

Wait.

What? He stared at Ryuji, really examined him, to see if he could spot a crack, the slightest hint of a joke underneath the veneer. But the blond was just getting redder and redder under Akira’s heated gaze, all the way from his neck to his ears.

He peered behind him, to see if anyone, track team or otherwise, was about to jump out and prank him, tell him it’s a joke and pour pig’s blood on him in the middle of the library. (He has to stop watching too many American horror movies with Futaba).

But no one came  to tell him it’s a joke, and Ryuji’s not sure what to make of Akira’s intensity nor his silence. “L-look, can we go somewhere more private? I can explain.”

The bespectacled teen nodded mutely, his brain still trying to compute what the heck was happening, and Ryuji didn't give him much time to pack up his things before he pulled him out of the library, their hands intertwined. 

Akira noticed the school librarian as they leave and for once, she’s not glaring daggers at him. Did she see that whole exchange? She probably had her own ideas about what was going to happen, because Ryuji was making no effort to let go of his hand. Or it’s probably because there will be peace and quiet for once in the library. 

His heart was beating a mile a minute while Ryuji dragged them aimlessly, unsure as to where to take them as they walked around the third floor. He’s muttering to himself, too. And though Akira doesn’t mind in the slightest because he’s holding hands with his crush who may actually reciprocate his feelings, his mind is jumping to all sorts of possibilities over what Ryuji had to say to him. But first, they had to get to a destination first in order for that to happen. 

“Er… Ryuji?”

That seems to ground Ryuji back to reality. He glanced back at Akira, his confused face and at their combined hands. “O-oh. Y-yeah, I’m not sure where exactly I can explain.” 

An idea came to Akira instantly. “I know a place. Do you mind if I lead?” 

“S-sure thing, dude.” Now Akira’s the one towing Ryuji up the stairs to the rooftop. Luckily, it’s not too cold and there were some desks in the corner that were free of snow. Akira reluctantly let go of Ryuji’s hand to toss his bag on an empty table, as the blond tried to fill the air with idle chatter, surveying the secret spot they've ended up in. “The roof?” 

“Yeah, I help Haru with her plants sometimes.” 

“Haru, as in Okumura Haru? The heiress of Okumura Foods?” 

“The very one.”

Ryuji shook his head with bemusement. “Shit, dude, you really do know everyone.”  

“I suppose I do. So...” He leaned back against a desk to face his crush, an arm’s length away. 

“So.” Ryuji parroted back. 

A beat passed and nothing more is said. 

And then Ryuji scrunched up his face… in a way Akira would later admit to him to be cute… and turned around. He hears him whisper to himself, “Get it together, man! It’s just Akira.” 

He turned back to face the noiret. There’s determination in his eyes as he fished something out of his pocket.  “I’m effing this up already. This can explain everything.” 

And sure enough, in his (albeit trembling) hands was a calling card. Akira knew it and its design well after the last two weeks. Only this time, it’s Ryuji flipping it over and reading it aloud, 

Kurusu Akira has committed a great sin of stealing my heart. Thus, I will steal every last bit of his desires for myself… if he feels the same way.

From, Your Secret Admirer, Sakamoto Ryuji

The blond finished reading, and coughed into his hand. 

“Now do you get it?”

Oh. 

OH

OH! 

“You like me.” Akira said, still with a bit of uncertainty and still needing confirmation. 

“I like you. A lot, really. A whole lot.” Ryuji confirmed. “Give me your hand.” He leaned forward and pulled his right hand to his sternum, maneuvering it so it’s just under his blazer lapel. 

Ka-THUMP. KA-THUMP. He felt the blond’s heart beating through his chest, threatening to break free, if that was even possible. 

“Now can ya tell how much I like you? Ya stole my heart.”

As cheesy as the line was… “It’s still there.” Akira responded, dumbly. If Ryuji thought he’s nervous, then Akira was a mess. A bi disaster , he faintly remembered telling Ann. 

The blond smiled at that. “Well, it’s yours to keep, if ya feel the same. Do ya feel the same way, Akira?” Ryuji asked. It’s soft and quiet, far from the voice Akira normally associated with the blond. Even with the ambient noise of the outdoors going on around him, those words are the only thing he can focus on.

”But I’m…” He faltered at that. 

“A charming thief of hearts, a great beauty, a beguiling brainiac. And more. ‘Ya really have to let me in on your secrets, dude. That was some A+ thievery. Don’t think I’ll ever get my heart back,” Ryuji purred. He moved closer and enveloped his arms around the noiret, eventually settling them around his waist, while Akira placed his hands on his chest, as he was backed up against the desk. 

“You can’t possibly think that.” He turned away, embarrassed at the praise and also at the picture this were to make, if someone were to walk in on them. Sumire and Haru would swoon at the sight, that was for sure.  

“I do. I was hoping you might like me, too?” There’s hopefulness there, in his repetition of his initial question and Akira finally looked back at his crush, his finally reciprocated crush. Warm brown eyes meet slate grey, filled with all the adoration and longing he’s only now realized has been there this whole time. It gave Akira the strength to confess. 

“I’ve liked you for ages,” Akira breathed out, his secret finally set free. 

“For real? I’ve liked you for ages, too.”

What? “But you’re always talking about girls and I thought I would never have a chance with you.

“Funny, you’re surrounded by…” The blond let one hand drop from his waist to start and places it up in front of him. One-by-one, started listing off his friends, “a gymnast, a model, an artist, a Class Prez and Vice Prez, an heiress to a corporation, talented computer geeks, a badass volleyball player, need I go on?” He’s out of fingers even before he stopped counting down. “You’re the one I thought I never would have a chance with.” 

The way the two of them are… “I guess they were all right. We really are well-matched.” He giggled, and without thinking leaned forward and placed his head on his chest. 

It’s silent for a few seconds until he heard Ryuji’s voice, all honeyed (Chuono-sensei would be proud of him for the word) and light. Akira could hear the rumble from his body, with the way his ear rested against his sternum.  “Akira, can I ask ya something else?”

“Yeah?” He lifted his head, peering up at the blond through thick lashes and a lidded gaze.  

“Can I kiss ya now? Been thinkin’ about it all day,” the blond admitted quietly. 

Akira should be permanently flushed from all the times Ryuji worked him up just from words alone. But he just nodded, taking his glasses off and placing them to the side. Ryuji leaned in, pressing soft lips to Akira’s chapped ones. 

Kissing Ryuji in his dreams does not compare to kissing him in real life, that’s for sure. The blond was kissing him like he’s drowning, and Akira has his necessary air. What was at first a slow slide of lips against lips - is Ryuji wearing chapstick for this?! - becomes heated as the seconds passed on, with Akira’s hands finding purchase in his hair, his fingers tugging gently on faux blond locks. It’s softer than it looks, that’s for sure. 

Meanwhile, Ryuji discovered that he liked Akira punch-drunk and dazed from his ministrations, watching the noiret become putty, a squirming mess in his lap. He brought Akira’s bottom lip between his teeth and bit hard - not enough to draw blood but enough to draw a gasp from the other teen, giving the blond an opportunity to press his tongue into Akira’s mouth and snake it around his own. Ryuji relished every moan that Akira made. 

But the moments - whether it was seconds, minutes, hours, days, Akira couldn’t tell anymore; he wanted it to last forever - pass and kissing on the lips turns into kissing and nipping and touching elsewhere. Akira moved to the lobe of Ryuji’s ear and he sucked there, payback for what Ryuji did to his bottom lip.

That provoked a reaction because Ryuji shuddered in his arms from that alone. “‘K-kira, baby…”

He doesn’t know where that came from, but he very much loves that nickname. That pet name too. He wants Ryuji to say it again and again as the blond comes apart. 

Ryuji pulled the hood of the turtleneck to the side, mouthing against Akira’s neck, leaving a trail of saliva as he went downward. He found the juncture between neck and shoulder, intent on leaving a mark as he nibbled on the sensitive skin there, wearing it down between his teeth.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a while, ‘Kira,” Ryuji whispered hotly against his neck, already working his way through leaving a few more marks under his collar, on his clavicle, on his chest.  

He’s going to need a new turtleneck, that’s for sure. 

“A-ah, ‘Y-yuji,” Akira cried out, arching against him. He wanted, no he needed, Ryuji to be as close to him as possible. In a show of mutual, wordless understanding, the blonde complied, and brought his hands down to Akira’s thighs in order to lift him up on the desk table, allowing the noiret to wrap his legs around his waist. 

Akira marveled at how strong Ryuji was (it only made sense!), and he wanted more, to feel Ryuji’s weight on him. He grabbed at the blond’s lapels and pulled them both down against the desk, now cradled to his chest. 

Experimentally, Akira rolled his hips upwards, all in an effort to graze against the growing hardness in Ryuji’s slacks, one that’s matching his own. This earned another groan from the blond and an equally passionate thrust back, the spark of a touch shooting straight to his groin.  

In turn, Ryuji’s also getting bolder with his touching as they begin to enter what may very well be dry humping territory, trailing a hand back upward to squeeze affectionately at his ass. 

“S-shit, R-ryuji, that’s not fair.” Akira whimpered. His hands were occupied right now - splayed underneath the athlete’s shirt and feeling those abs he’s dreamt about for ages. 

Ryuji chuckled at that as they resumed their kissing, slowly and languidly now as they began to tire out. As fun as this was, they didn’t want to get too carried away in the school, no less. 

A part of him does want to try. But he’ll broach that topic for another time.  

After a few minutes of somewhat innocent pecks (somewhat in the sense that Ryuji still did try to stroke his tongue against Akira's and Akira himself was quite eager for them to be kissing for as long as possible), Ryuji fondly kissed his nose and the two reluctantly pulled apart, though he’s still inclined to keep the noiret in his lap, carrying him over to a stray chair despite Akira’s weak protests. 

While they work on catching their breath together, Akira could see Ryuji’s hair is mussed up, his lips swollen and bruised. There’s a mark on his jaw, another by his ear. If there’s marks on Ryuji, Akira doesn’t want to see the damage the blond left on him, which was probably double, no triple-fold, the amount of hickeys and love bites. 

“Eff, man. This wasn’t supposed to be how I wanted to do it.” Despite that admission, Ryuji’s still grinning from ear-to-ear. “Wanted to take ya out on a date first.”

Akira tilted his head, questioning. “You can still do that, yes.”

“Wanted to give ya chocolate, too,” He gestured towards their abandoned bags. “Made it myself, just for you.” 

“Chocolate sounds nice.” Akira agreed.

“Hold ya hand.” 

Akira grabbed one hand and slotted Ryuji’s fingers in between his. “Already doin’ that.” 

“Put my other hand here when I’m walking ya home.” His free hand moved to the small of his back and Akira angled into the touch and the warmth it brought. 

“And then maybe you’ll let me kiss ya goodnight.” 

“Does it have to end with goodnight?” The bespectacled teen murmured. 

“We can repeat ‘em over and over, if ya want. If ya want to be my boyfriend, that is,” he clarified, pink-cheeked.

It’s been what Akira’s been dreaming of all year and now it’s a reality. But Akira’s always been a little bit greedy for more. 

“Sounds like a plan, boyfriend,” he enunciated. “But I’d like to make a few suggestions, add a few things,” he whispered into Ryuji’s ear, low and close, his breath ghosting over his neck. The blond’s hand tightened around Akira’s waist at a few of them.  

And he’s only inclined to agree to them all. 

Ann: heeyy bi disaster 

Ann: does your lack of response mean you’re not fifth wheeling 

Ann: the girls say grats btw 

Ann: *grats to ryuji, he scored the hottest guy in shujin, we all agreed 

He learned later, during their date, giggling dumbly over how stupid they’ve both been, how this whole calling card business went about.

“I had the track team help me. They’ve been sick n’ tired of me talking ‘bout you.” Ryuji admitted. 

“My friends have been sick and tired of me talking about you, too. Goro was pissed I even asked him to begin with.” 

“Good.” Ryuji’s smug about it. 

“Good?! You were the one who was jealous to begin with! Over Goro, no less.”

They can’t stop touching each other and Akira doesn’t mind that one bit. Their pinkies are intertwined underneath the table, their knees knocking against each other as they sit side by side at Ryuji’s favorite ramen place in Ogikubo. When they rode the subway, Ryuji kept a hand on his waist to steady him in a packed car while Akira gripped tight onto the fabric of his shirt - prying eyes couldn’t easily see them, but their actions spoke volumes. Akira’s buzzing with want still - the high of what happened still in his system - and he can tell Ryuji was, too. 

But while he wanted to experience many things with Ryuji - he was certainly descriptive on what exactly on the Shujin rooftop, with the promise of so much more - he wanted to experience these things for as long as Ryuji would have him. And vice versa. Which seemed for both to be a very long time. 

“You have mine too, by the way.” Akira said aloud as they’re walking towards LeBlanc together, and yes, Ryuji’s hand still hasn’t left the small of his back, and might even be drifting lower. 

“What was that?”

“My heart. Stole it from the very beginning. I’d say you’re the real thief of hearts.” 

“That’s all you, man.”

Under the dim streetlights of Yongen-Jaya, just outside a cozy cafe, a thief steals a kiss from another thief. And as a consequence of their actions, for committing crimes of passion - they each receive a thief’s heart.