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Valentine’s Day always causes a ruckus around school. The girls of just about every single class giggle and whisper to themselves as they wait for their ‘golden chances’ to give the boys they like chocolates. Ichiro is pretty popular, but at the same time, a lot of girls tend to find him more intimidating than most of the other boys. It probably doesn’t help that he’s constantly butting heads with Samatoki. Last year had been the worst—the two of them had been in the same classroom, after all, and everyone got to witness just how bad their fights could be.
This year, thankfully, he and Samatoki are in different classes. He’s in Class 3-B, and Samatoki is in Class 3-D. They’re much more separated than they used to be, and that’s what’s best for everyone involved. Not to mention, his best friend is Harai Kuko, one of the school’s local “bad boy” rebels who dyes his hair and paints his nails and has a few ear piercings. He shouldn’t, but he does.
Anyway, the point is that despite Ichiro’s amicable personality and overall ability to make friends easily, girls don’t confess to him as often as you’d imagine they would. Not that Ichiro minds that much. He has his hands full with handling his own crushes at the moment. He doesn’t really want to have to worry about rejecting people over and over again…
The bustling and murmuring of his classmates has Ichiro looking up from his notebook, eyebrows raised in curiosity. Several boys and girls have gathered around one of the windows, leaning close to it and seemingly peering out of it.
To his right, Kuko clicks his tongue in annoyance and grunts as he sits himself down on the desk next to Ichiro’s.
“The hell’re they all gettin’ excited about? There some kind of major confession happenin’ down there?”
Ichiro shrugs, closing his notebook as he stands up from his desk. “No idea. But I should probably go check it out and ask—might be something important.”
“Aw, you’re just sayin’ that ‘cause you’re a rep.”
“I have to keep up my reputation!” Ichiro says, already walking away from Kuko to approach the gathered students.
“What reputation?!” Kuko barks with laughter, throwing his head back.
Ichiro grins and shakes his head, huffing out a bit of laughter. He steps up to his other classmates and peers over their shoulders, his eyebrows raised again.
“Hey, whatcha guys lookin’ at?”
“Ichiro!” Guren, one his more friendlier classmates, turns towards him, surprise and confusion written on his face. “Hey, we were just watching the school gate. There are these two girls…”
Ichiro furrows his eyebrows. “Two girls?” He murmurs, shouldering his way past Misaki and Tomoshi to peer out towards the school’s gate.
Sure enough, standing right by the entrance of their school are two girls. Both of them are blonde, though Ichiro can’t really make out if there’s a difference in their colours or not. Their school uniforms, though, are obviously different than their own. Instead of the blue and silver of their Ikebukuro school, these girls’ uniforms are different shades of brown, cream, and some kind of orange. If he looks close enough, Ichiro can make out the differences between each girl, starting with how their hair is put up. One has two buns tied up with ribbons, in neat bows, and the taller girl has twin braids hanging just over her shoulders. From this distance, though, it’s harder to mke out their clothes.
“Huh,” Ichiro says, mostly to himself.
“I wonder what they’re here for,” Misaki says, leaning her shoulder into Tomoshi’s.
“Right?” Tomoshi agrees, shaking his head a bit. “It looks like they might’ve come a long way, but from where? I don’t recognize that uniform at all.”
While his classmates chatter to themselves, theorizing about these two girls, Ichiro watches them to make sure nothing is awry. He sees the shorter one of the two girls hug the taller, the bows in her hair fluttering with the wind. She must say something to the other one, because the taller girl seems to laugh. Then, suddenly, the shorter girl turns around and starts to skip right towards the actual entrance of the school.
“Whoa! What the hell?” Guren says, jumping back from the window a bit. “Is she coming in? No way!”
“She’s just waltzing in here?!” Misaki gasps softly, pressing her cheek in against the window to watch further.
Visitors from other schools aren’t unheard of, especially around the end of the day, but to have those visitors actually enter the school? Most of them wait just outside the school gate, or even right outside the school itself. Ichiro’s never seen someone just—walk right in before.
“I better go see what’s up,” Ichiro says, pushing his way back out from the small crowd of students. “Check and see if she’s lost or somethin’—”
“You just wanna talk to a cute girl,” Kuko says, mockingly sticking his tongue out at him.
Ichiro’s cheeks start to warm up. “What the hell? No! It’s really just to see if she’s lost!”
Kuko’s laughter follows Ichiro out as he exits the classroom through the sliding doors, unaware of the rest of the students following after him. Most of them stick their heads out of the doorway, eagerly watching Ichiro walk down the hallway to the school’s entrance hall.
As soon as he’s right by the stairs, though, a whoosh! of air almost has Ichiro spinning around in place. He stumbles over his own two feet for a second, trying to regain his footing. “Shit—!”
When Ichiro lifts his head up to see Jiro, his own brother, booking it right through the school doors.
Ichiro stands there, dumbfounded and stunned, mouth hanging crookedly open. “Wuh… what the hell?”
Why did Jiro just go running through the doors?
A few moments later, the shorter girl comes walking in. Ichiro is still stuck for a brief second, before he shakes his head and straightens himself out. She comes walking straight towards him, her arms held behind her back.
There are glasses settled on the bridge of her nose, though Ichiro can’t quite catch a gleam from the lenses—maybe they’re made of different material? He lets his eyes linger on her clothes for just a moment, taking in the blazer and light jacket combination she has going on, just like Ichiro. She has cream coloured tights on under her skirt, and over that and the uniform shoes, are fuzzy leg warmers that take up most of her calves. She’s much shorter than Ichiro is.
Clearing his throat, Ichiro shoves one hand into the pocket of his pants pocket. He puts on one of his best and friendliest smiles, only slightly fake in its sincerity. He holds up his other hand, hoping to come off as a bit more aloof.
“Yo!” Ichiro greets her, head tilted slightly. “My name’s Yamada Ichiro, class rep of 3-B!”
Golden teal eyes meet Ichiro’s, and he’s sort of floored with how cute this girl is. Her cheeks are tinted pink, likely from the cold outside. She reminds him of Zen’ya, in a way, with the same coloured eyes and hair. But there’s no way that Zen’ya could be here, especially on a weekday—Sapporo is such a long distance away, after all. And he doesn’t think Kizami would have let him skip school, either.
“Hi,” she chirps, smiling up at him. “I’m Yacchan!”
Yacchan, as Ichiro now knows her, has some light makeup on that he finally notices. Her lips are sparkling with lip gloss, with winged eyeliner on her eyes and soft eyeshadow to accompany it. Her eyelashes seem rather long, too, curling up in a way that kind of makes Ichiro want to run the back of his finger against them—
He shakes himself out of it, almost physically, and clears his throat again.
“Nice to meet you, Yacchan.” Ichiro gives a small bow of his head, and he hears Kuko’s low whistle from down the hallway at the same time. It makes Ichiro’s ears start to warm. Damn that bastard for eavesdropping on him! “Uh, I hope you don’t mind me askin’, but are you lost?”
Yacchan tilts her head as she looks up at Ichiro, before she shakes her head. Her buns shake at the same time, the brown bows seeming to flow around her strands of hair. Ichiro manages to look away from Yacchan’s hair just in time for her response.
“Nope! Not lost at all. My sister and I came here for Valentine’s Day.” As Yacchan speaks, she pulls her arms to her front, and in her hands are two pink boxes, both of them tied together with red ribbons. “We’re here to give chocolates to someone special~”
“Huh…” Ichiro cocks his head to the side, turning his gaze up to look at the school doors, remembering the way Jiro ran out them. Did he go out there to meet Yacchan’s sister? If he did, then surely it was to reject her. Jiro is already dating Atsushi, so there’s no reason for him to be accepting chocolates from a girl of another school.
“Alright. D’you need help finding who you’re looking for then?” Ichiro asks.
Yacchan laughs, and it’s such a nice sound. Ichiro’s cheeks are definitely red now.
“Nope! I’ve actually found who I wanted already!”
Ichiro makes a noise, his eyes slowly widening. “Uh?”
Yacchan grabs the bottom box of chocolates and holds it out to him, a seemingly shyer smile present on her face. “These chocolates are for you, Icchan. I hope you will accept them!”
There’s an eruption of noise from the left hallway, right where Ichiro’s classroom is. His classmates seem to have, as a collective, decided to spy on Ichiro and Yacchan. He can even hear Kuko screeching, “The fuck?!”
He hesitates for several moments before he reaches out and gently takes the box from her. Yacchan’s smile grows, more confident than before. Ichiro looks over the box, lifting it up carefully to look at the bottom of it and then lowering it to peer at the neatly tied ribbon. Yacchan was able to wrap it up very nicely.
“Uh,” Ichiro sputters, cheeks turning red. He really shouldn’t accept these chocolates from a stranger—Ichiro doesn’t even know who Yacchan really is, and he’s already got his sights set on Zen’ya as it is. But rejecting a girl who came all the way here, just to be able to give Ichiro chocolates? He’d feel like a real asshole if he told her ‘no’. “I… uh—thank you, Yacchan. Are… you sure? These are really for me?”
Yacchan nods, letting out another soft laugh. She shifts on her feet in place, hands fidgeting with the second box in her hands. “They’re really for you, Icchan. I hope that you like them! I made them specifically for you!”
Before Ichiro had any chance to respond, Yacchan grabs one of Ichiro’s sleeves and gently tugs at it. Ichiro leans down, only slightly, right as Yacchan leans up on her toes. She brushed a kiss across Ichiro’s cheek. This causes another uproar from Ichiro’s class, as well as other students that have apparently gathered to watch this exchange happen.
Yacchan giggles as she leans away from Ichiro and turns right, headed down the hallway. Ichiro presses his palm to his cheek as he turns and watches her walk down the hall, jaw dropped on awe. Then, he watches Yacchan open up the door to Class 3-D and enter it.
Ichiro is left floundering, gripping the chocolate box in one hand.
“Wh… What the hell…!?”
Why is she going to Samatoki’s classroom now…?!
People are annoying, especially when they can’t seem to mind their own damn business. On days like today, it’s particularly bad—everyone wants to know everyone’s business and they don’t know how to shut the hell up. Samatoki wishes he didn’t have to attend school whenever it’s Valentine’s Day, but if he’s not here, then who will be able to ward off the shitty guys going after Nemu? She can stand up for herself, sure, but some high school boys can’t take no for an answer.
There’s a large gathering of students by one of the doorways to their classroom, several of them peering out into the hallway. Samatoki clicks his tongue in annoyance, chin pressed deeply into the palm of his hand. He knows it’s the end of the day, but can’t they keep it together until the damn bell rings?
“Whoa, look!” Fushimoto exclaims, quickly pulling himself back in from the doorway. His cheeks are somewhat flushed, like he’s embarrassed about something that’s just happened. “Do you see that?”
Samatoki is annoyed. He’s annoyed and he hates the fact that, even though he’s annoyed, he’s still stupidly curious about whatever it is Fushimoto is about to say.
Fushimoto lowers his voice, cupping a hand around his mouth as he does, and says, “There’s a girl by the school entrance! With Yamada Ichiro!”
That gets Samatoki’s attention. If he were really a dog, his ears would be perked up and twitching. Samatoki scowls to himself as he turns his head, glowering at his fellow classmates.
One of the girls pulls back from the doorway and giggles, covering her mouth with her hand. “She has chocolates! I think she’s confessing to him!”
“Hah?” Samatoki’s eyebrow twitches, his scowl deepening.
Keihara wriggles his way out of the group of students and stumbles over to Samatoki’s desk, his phone open. “Yeah! Look, Aohitsugi-san!”
Samatoki sighs deeply, his eyebrows furrowed as his eyes are squeezed shut. He does not need to see Ichiro being confessed to right now, he really doesn’t—yet he’s still a teenage boy and he’s too stupidly interested. So Samatoki opens his eyes, just as Keihara holds his phone out for him to look at.
On the screen is a picture of Ichiro and the girl. The uniform she’s wearing isn’t their Ikebukuro one—she’s from another school. Samatoki recognizes those colours, too. Brown, cream, and orange. Those are the same colours that of Zen’ya’s school in Sapporo. Samatoki frowns deeply, head tilting. A girl came down all the way from Hokkaido, just to give Ichiro chocolates? What kind of delusional girl could she be? And she’s so much shorter than Ichiro, her head tilted back to be able to look at him properly.
“Isn’t she cute?” Keihara sighs wistfully, pulling his phone back and cradling it almost like it’s holy. “Damn. Ichiro-san is so lucky.”
Samatoki clicks his tongue loudly, kicking his leg out before crossing it over his other knee. “Go praise his ass somewhere else! I don’t wanna hear that shit.”
Suddenly, the girls squeal from the doorway and every single student starts to clammer away from it. Even Samatoki’s shoulders jump slightly, taken aback by the change in demeanour.
“She kissed his cheek!” Yunogami giggles, huddling together at the back of the room with Notazawa. “His cheek!”
“Shhhh!” Fushimoto shushes them, his own cheeks red. “She’s coming here!!”
None of the students are given much time to settle themselves down, because just seconds after Fushimoto’s words, the door to 3-D is being slid open, and the girl from the picture is standing right in the door way. Samatoki grunts as he sits up, keeping his elbow on his desk while his other arm hangs over the back of his chair. Now that he can look at her properly, he can see the glasses sitting on her nose and the teal eyes staring right at him.
Wait—
At him?
The girl seems to beam as she walks along the back of the classroom, until she’s standing right in front of him. Samatoki lifts his head, glowering in her direction, but when he meets her eyes, seeing right past the fake glasses she’s wearing, he’s already aware of just who she is.
Samatoki doesn’t want to make this a scene, though, so he stands up from his desk and glares at the rest of his classmates. Half of them have already gathered their things and skittered out of the classroom, but the rest of them are still sticking around—most likely to see what’s going to happen with Samatoki and this “girl.”
“Get lost!” Samatoki barks, throwing up an arm. “Before I make you get lost myself!”
Several people yelp, and more shuffling happens before the rest of the students clear out of the classroom. Samatoki breathes in deeply, then lets it out in a big huff if air. He sighs, ruffling the back of his hair. Zen’ya giggles in front of him, though it sounds a bit more high-pitched than it usually does.
“What the hell’re you doing, dressed like that?” Samatoki finally asks, watching the way Zen’ya reaches down to gently pick at his skirt.
“What? You don’t think it’s cute? I’m Yacchan today!” Zen’ya says, his voice a higher pitch. He’s genuinely trying to make himself sound like a girl. “Icchan didn’t notice it was me at all! How are you so good at it, Samicchi?”
Samatoki snorts, amused, and shrugs his shoulders. “‘Cause I’m not an idiot. Ichiro is.” He pauses for a moment, before adding on, “And I recognized the uniform colours.”
“Don’t be so mean to Icchan,” Zen’ya says, pouting up at him. “I know you actually like him, too.”
His cheeks nearly flare up with heat, but Samatoki merely grunts loudly and reaches a hand out to gently tug at a strand of Zen’ya’s hair. “Whatever,” Samatoki mutters, his gaze slowly moving down. It lands on the box of chocolates in Zen’ya’s hands. “S’that for me?”
Zen’ya smiles, soft and warm and bit more shy than Samatoki is used to seeing from him. He nods, head held down a bit. His fingers fidget with the ribbon tied on the box, before Zen’ya lifts it up and holds it out towards Samatoki.
“I hope you accept these chocolates, Samicchi. I made them just for you.” Zen’ya’s cheeks are red, and he won’t look Samatoki in the eyes as he stands there.
Samatoki is too endeared by him. He covers his face with a hand for a moment, his own cheeks heating up as he tries to settle his rapidly beating heart. Zen’ya is too damn cute. After a few more seconds, Samatoki eventually uncovers his face and carefully grabs the box from Zen’ya, looking it over with genuinely curious eyes. Then he slowly sets it down on his desk behind him, before he turns back to Zen’ya and slowly tilts his head.
“You had to go and give Ichiro the chocolates first, huh?” Samatoki says, obviously annoyed with the situation.
Zen’ya laughs softly, throwing his head back a little. “You’re jealous because I gave Icchan his first? He’s the one who came to me! I wasn’t planning on it.”
“Tch,” Samatoki shakes his head as he stalks forward a few steps, leaning over Zen’ya and backing him up into the desk behind him. Zen’ya laughs again, shoulders lightly shaking with it as he peers up at Samatoki through long, long lashes. Shit.
“You’re lucky,” Samatoki murmurs, leaning further forward.
He places a hand against the desk behind Zen’ya, getting closer and closer until their faces are mere centimeters apart. Zen’ya blinks up at him, his cheeks darker and his breathing a bit heavier. He’s nervous—but, honestly, so is Samatoki. This is the first time he’s been bold like this with Zen’ya.
“What makes me lucky?” Zen’ya quietly asks, one of his hands reaching out to lightly pinch the corner of Samatoki’s open, unbuttoned blazer.
Samatoki swallows this time, his cheeks starting to warm again. He breathes in deeply again, then leans in and presses a brief kiss to Zen’ya’s cheek. Zen’ya literally squeaks, jumping slightly in place as Samatoki mumbles close to his ear.
“You’re cute, Yacchan.” Samatoki leans away to grin down at Zen’ya, his own cheeks now a deep red.
Before Zen’ya has the ability to respond, one of the doors to the classroom rattles open, disrupting their moment. Samatoki scowls and lifts his head, glaring in the direction at whoever just disturbed them—only to end up eye-to-eye with Ichiro, of all people.
“The hell do you want, Ichiro?” Samatoki growls, not moving from his position in front of Zen’ya.
Zen’ya turns halfway, looking up at Ichiro through his fake glasses with surprise. “Icchan!”
Ichiro is flushed, staring both Samatoki and Zen’ya down, before he turns his gaze to Samatoki specifically and glares, pointing at him. “Don’t just force yourself onto girls, Samatoki!”
“Hah!?” Samatoki’s eyebrow twitches, his teeth gritting together as he pulls away from Zen’ya. “I ain’t forcing myself on no one!”
“Oh yeah?! Did she ask you to do that then?”
“Idiot!” Samatoki hisses, already approaching Ichiro with the intent to sock him in the face. “Just how oblivious and stupid can you be?!”
He can’t just tell Ichiro that the “girl” is Zen’ya, because that would probably defeat the purpose of Zen’ya’s entire plan, but Samatoki doesn’t understand how Ichiro can’t see that it’s him in the first place.
Ichiro growls right back at him and grabs the lapels of Samatoki’s open blazer, yanking him close. “Who’re you calling stupid?!”
“You, idiot!” Samatoki butts his forehead roughly against Ichiro’s, teeth roughly grinding together as Ichiro glares him down.
The two of them continue to glare, fists primed and ready to go, but what stops them from fully fighting is the sound of Zen’ya laughing from behind them. Ichiro’s grip on his lapels loosen, and he’s leaning back to look over Samatoki’s shoulder at him. His cheeks flush again, the same way Samatoki’s start to flush as he does the same, looking over his own shoulder to look at Zen’ya.
The way the sun shines through the window frames Zen’ya’s laughing form so prettily, and his laughter makes Samatoki’s heart feel lighter. Even Ichiro seems enchanted, which isn’t too surprising—he’s heard Zen’ya laugh before, so maybe this will get him to realize who ‘Yacchan’ is.
Zen’ya laughs for about another minute, holding his stomach with his arms, before he’s able to stand up straight and wipe at the corners of his eyes. He walks over to Ichiro and Samatoki while they’re too stunned to move, approaching them with more confidence than he had before. He grips onto their sleeves—one of Ichiro’s, and one of Samatoki’s—and pushes up on his toes between them. Zen’ya kisses their cheeks, one after another: first Samatoki’s, then Ichiro’s.
They’re fleeting, soft kisses—ones that both Ichiro and Samatoki will be thinking about for the rest of the day.
‘Yacchan’ giggles quietly as she drops back down onto her feet, letting go of their sleeves now. “Be nice, okay? Don’t fight, or I’ll take my chocolates back from both of you!”
Ichiro and Samatoki nod together, lips parted in awe. Yacchan smiles up at them, nodding to herself in satisfaction. “Good! Okay, I have to go get my sister now so we can leave~ Bye-bye, Icchan, Toki-chan!”
Yacchan turns away from them both and exists Class 3-D, leaving Ichiro and Samatoki behind to process everything that’s just occurred.
Samatoki vaguely wonders if Ichiro was finally able to tell that ‘Yacchan’ is actually Zen’ya or not.