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There’s a gift in his locker again.
“It’s a black cat,” Isagi murmurs as he takes the keychain out of the box, brushing his thumb against its wide, blue eyes.
So this is the first item of the week, huh?
Since last Monday, there has been a new gift in his locker every morning. He kept the said gifts in their boxes and placed them on a shelf in his room, just in case it’s a mistake and the person stops leaving gifts this week upon realizing they got the wrong locker.
And as if the mystery person can read his thoughts, a printed note is included in today’s box, confirming the intended recipient’s identity.
Hope your week will be nice, Isagi. Happy Monday. x
Isagi flushes, flinching when someone whistles right into his ear. Bachira’s face comes into his peripheral vision as his classmate reads the note over his shoulder.
“What a way to start the week, huh, Mr. Popular?” Bachira grins.
“You know that’s not it,” Isagi replies, folding the note quickly before returning it to the box. “Do you have any idea who these are from?”
Bachira hums, placing a finger on his chin and furrowing his brows. Then, his eyes widen. “Ah!”
Isagi’s heart speeds up. Bachira’s an easygoing kind of person, but he’s also terrifyingly observant at times. Sometimes, Isagi thinks he can even see something no one else can, some sort of monster that—
“Chigirin!”
Huh? “Chigiri? That’s not—”
Following Bachira’s gaze, Isagi turns around to see Nagi approaching them, Chigiri and Reo right behind him. Reo waves a hand and heads in first, mentioning he has a meeting to attend, while Bachira jumps onto Chigiri’s back. They talk about the latest episode of the variety show they’re watching, while Nagi stares at Isagi as per his usual greeting.
“Hi, Nagi,” Isagi says, scrambling to put the gift box inside his bag. “Good morning.”
He told Bachira about the gifts the first time it happened—I should know all these since I’m your bestie! privileges and all—but he can’t bring himself to mention it to Nagi, no matter how close they’ve been. He knows Nagi finds these things a hassle, and he doesn’t really want to share stuff that is just “troublesome” for him.
“Morning,” Nagi drawls out, placing a hand atop his head. “Don’t forget the quest later.”
“Of course,” Isagi replies with a small smile.
Nagi nods. He parts ways with them after that, his and Reo’s classroom being on the second floor.
As the three of them make their way to their room, Isagi can barely pay attention to the story Chigiri’s telling because of the distracting, tingling sensation on the crown of his head—it’s like he can still feel the comforting weight of Nagi’s hand.
Nagi’s presence gives him peace, and it’s just fair to make sure his own peace won’t be disturbed. There’s no need to tell Nagi about the thing with the gifts.
“Hey, Isagi, what’s the thing with the gifts?”
Isagi chokes on his soda. After setting the bottle on the table, he plucks some tissues and cleans his area, especially making sure to wipe the liquid off his mechanical keyboard.
“Are you okay?” Nagi’s voice filters through his headphones.
Isagi nods, his hand back on his mouse as his character respawns. How did he—
Wait, Nagi can’t see him. Get yourself together, Isagi.
“I’m fine,” Isagi says, pulling his microphone closer. “And uh, well, about them…”
He decided to not bother Nagi about it, but Nagi was the one who brought it, so now Isagi can’t not tell him. Did he hear from Chigiri, who heard it from Bachira? Or did he see the gift earlier?
Regardless, he already knows, and there’ll be less peace if Isagi hides it, right? Nagi might get the wrong impression and think it’s because he doesn’t trust him, which is definitely not the case.
“Remember when I told you about…” Isagi bites his lips and doesn’t continue, knows he doesn’t need to.
Nagi knows of that moment when Isagi was down in the dumps, feeling unwanted—which he knows is irrational because he’s got great friends!—after receiving zero chocolates on Valentine’s Day in their first year. It was extremely stupid because he wasn’t even interested in anyone in their class, yet he was also a bit… lonely.
Isagi opened up to Nagi, who he only started playing with for a few months then, because he thought Nagi wouldn’t suddenly put him on blind dates (like Bachira would do) or give him tips to seduce people (like Chigiri would). He expected, wanted for him to simply listen—and that’s exactly what Nagi did.
Which is also why he’s opening up to Nagi again now. “I’ve been receiving these gifts every day since last week, though I don’t know who they are from.”
“Even though you don’t know them, do the gifts make you happy?”
Isagi pauses, not expecting the question. He thought Nagi would just be humming again like he did before.
After taking a moment to think about it, Isagi lets out a soft smile. “Yeah.”
Nagi hums. “Then it’s fine. Just accept them. No need to worry about troublesome things.”
Isagi opens his mouth, but before he can reply, Nagi says, “Ah, Isagi, sniper on your left.”
“On it. I’ll go behind the warehouse. Steal area C after I use my third skill.”
“Yes, boss.”
When the second week passes by with no sign of the mysterious gifter stopping, even ending the week with an expensive watch, Isagi decides to finally uncover their identity.
Despite sleeping late since he spent the weekend until the first two hours of Monday gaming with Nagi, Isagi wakes up even earlier so he be at school when there are almost no students yet, especially not those who have trouble waking up in the morning like Nagi—
—who is standing in front of his locker, placing a very distinct box in it.
Isagi’s excitement plummets like a deflating balloon, the butterflies in his stomach turning into lead.
If Nagi is indeed the one who has been leaving him gifts (the evidence is right in front of your eyes, fool), Isagi will be grateful for all the things he received… but is it out of pity? Because Isagi told him he’s lonely? Because Nagi is a great friend who wants to make him feel better?
Or, maybe, just maybe, it’s because he really likes—
Isagi presses his back flat against the wall, holding his breath as Nagi heads back to the entrance. He would love to stay rooted in his hiding place while his brain comes up and discards hundreds of scenarios per second, but as he hears more footsteps approach, he knows he has to move.
Like it’s just a normal Monday morning, Isagi opens his inconspicuous locker (is he imagining the warmth of Nagi’s hand on the handle—) and grabs the gift box.
A scented candle. A note saying ‘I think this is supposed to help you sleep better at night. Hope it helps. Sleep well always, Isagi.’ with the signature “x” at the end.
A memory of a gaming night from months ago, when Isagi casually mentioned being unable to sleep.
“Isagi~!”
Even without his name being called, the weight on his back would alert Isagi of Bachira’s presence. Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, Bachira stares at the box and then at Isagi’s face.
“What is it?”
Isagi opens his mouth and promptly shuts it when Nagi arrives. Instead of saying ‘good morning’ like usual, Isagi nods at Nagi in greeting before averting his gaze, accidentally catching Bachira’s eyes as he does.
What gave me away? Isagi thinks as Bachira’s gaze sharpens, flinching when his best friend lets out a smile that is nothing like his usual as well—it’s worried, inquisitive, seemingly asking what’s wrong? yet also saying I totally know what’s up.
Slightly shaking his head, Isagi gives him a smile of his own. He knows if he needs someone, Bachira will always be there to lend an ear (or a fist), but Isagi wants to sort it out on his own this time.
It doesn’t work, the “sorting it on his own” thing.
Not that Isagi has actually done that.
Terrified of what he’ll find out, he didn’t confront Nagi… which just made things awkward. It’s probably noticeable since Isagi skipped some of their planned gaming nights, using his assignments as an excuse—and even if Nagi didn’t think too much of that, their comms when they do play (because Isagi can’t actually just go MIA in their guild) are just about the game itself.
Nagi’s already a pretty quiet guy, and with Isagi not initiating any non-gaming-related conversation, there is a lot more silence.
And now, here he is, eating lunch with Reo and Chigiri on a hot Friday. Nagi’s called to the teacher’s office since he apparently didn’t submit some assignments this week, and Bachira, whose help Isagi really wants now, is already lending his hand to a club.
“Are you sick?” Reo asks.
Isagi looks up from the rice he’s been stabbing with his chopsticks. “Uh, me? No, I’m fine.”
“If you're not gonna eat that, give it to me,” Chigiri says. “The bento Iyo-san prepares is always miles better than whatever expensive food this guy brings.”
Reo shrugs. “No offense taken since I agree—”
“I didn’t say no offense—”
“—and even Nagi wouldn’t find eating troublesome if it’s from Isagi’s mother.”
“Or anything as long as it’s Isa— oi, young master, that hurt.”
Reo elbows him some more. With their eyebrows, they begin an entire conversation that Isagi can’t be bothered to decipher so he simply returns to poking at his rice.
“Well.” Reo huffs. “Let’s just say Nagi wouldn’t do anything he deems troublesome unless he’s really interested in it.”
A snort. “Exactly the problem and why your teacher called for him.”
Isagi pauses.
Oh. That’s true.
Nagi wouldn’t go through all that trouble if it’s just pity, right?
Isagi thinks back to the past, to how Nagi first approached him when they crossed paths in the arcade, how Nagi went to his classroom during lunch that next day to chat, how Nagi naturally integrated himself into Isagi’s friend group and later introduced them to his own closest friend.
How Reo, the said closest friend, told them about Nagi’s lazy personality to the point of needing to carry him on his back just so he could go to class.
How Nagi always accompanied Isagi whenever he went to the shopping district to buy new games, always waited whenever Isagi sent a brb in the chat so they could finish their quests together.
The puzzle pieces made up of the memories he shares with Nagi slowly come together to form a clear picture:
Nagi likes me.
A blush accompanies the realization, and Isagi leaps to his feet, wincing as the chair screeches across the floor. Ignoring the several heads that turned to him, he pushes his bento toward Chigiri.
“You can have it. I need to go.”
And with that, he bolts to the door. He thinks he hears them mutter thank god or something, but figuring that out is not as important as reaching the clubrooms before lunch break ends.
School is officially over for the week, and Isagi finds Nagi by his locker like he occasionally would on Fridays.
It should just be them today; Bachira’s joining the art club’s outing later, Reo has student council duties, and Chigiri has track and field training.
Good timing.
“Nagi!” When Nagi looks up from his phone, Isagi continues, “Do you want to come over and play games?”
Nagi nods. “Sure. I was just thinking that I’m not in the mood to get dinner tonight.” He pockets his phone. “But I like your mom’s cooking.”
The conversation from earlier resurfaces, and Isagi tries his best to keep the blood from rushing to his face. “Okay. Let’s go.”
As they head to the gates, Isagi sees Bachira peeking from a building, a yellow paint on his cheek. He waves, his hands also with paint splashes on them, and grins at him before disappearing.
For some unexplainable reason, simply seeing that has calmed Isagi’s nerves, and the walk back home becomes easier—quiet, but not uncomfortable.
“Wait, can we stop here for a second?” Isagi asks as they pass by an empty park, just like he calculated.
Nagi hums in agreement and plops down onto the swing, grabbing the chains that seem to be barely carrying his weight. He stretches his (absurdly long, seriously!) legs in front of him in a V, whining that the walk is tiring.
Yet despite the complaints, he’ll stand up and walk into step next to him once Isagi says, let’s go. Just like how it has always been.
When Nagi looks up at him with wide, curious eyes, Isagi realizes something important—that more than the gifts themselves, it’s the attention being given to him that makes him feel something, and with the way Nagi gazes at him…
Based on these clues, I shouldn’t be wrong, right? Nagi, you really…
Isagi walks closer and stands in between Nagi’s legs. Bringing his bag to the front, he pulls out a rectangular container and clears his throat.
Then, he takes the item out: a simple, obviously-amateur-made origami flower—something supposedly easy, but Isagi spent his entire afternoon classes making.
Plus, the only person in the art club to teach him then was Shidou Ryuusei, who turns out to be not as wild (kinda?) as the rumors said and is truly great at art just like Bachira said.
“Sorry, this can’t hold a candle to the gifts you’ve been giving me”—and there it is, the minute change in Nagi’s posture serving as his admission—“but I wanted to still give you this anyway.”
Isagi offers the flower with a bashful smile, his heart racing wildly in his chest. “Hope your week… uh, weekend will be nice, Nagi. Happy Friday.”
He doesn’t say those words, but surely, Nagi gets what he means, right? Just like how he knows whenever Isagi needs a buff or a smoke bomb?
In an instant, Nagi grabs the flower, and Isagi shudders as his long fingers brush the back of his hand. It feels like he’s holding onto his hand more than the flower, and Nagi is definitely giving him a favorable reply, right?
The drumming in his ears is so loud that he almost misses Nagi say, “Do we still need to go to your house?”
“E-eh?”
“Your parents are home, right?” Nagi grips his hand tighter. His thumb rubs circles on his skin, covering Isagi’s body in goosebumps. “We can go to my apartment instead. I don’t have delicious food, but it’ll just be us and we can—”
“W-wait, we’re—”
“—play games.”
“—going too fast… oh.”
Silence washes over them, the orange skies above slowly turning black, the sounds of crickets serving as their background noise.
Nagi speaks first. “Hm? What was Isagi thinking?”
Isagi pulls his hand away, ears burning. “Nothing! How about you, what were you thinking?! Why didn’t you tell me about—”
“Right now, I’m thinking that Isagi really looks cute. And how I’m really happy you confessed to me first. I was waiting. Can I kiss you?”
“Huh? I confessed first? When? Neither of us even said anything! Wait, let’s first talk about the weekly—”
“Eh, how troublesome. We’re dating now, so let’s kiss.”
“That’s not how it works!”