Chapter Text
Keito Hasumi was not stupid.
He’d always been a bit of a teacher’s pet, with his perfect grades and hard-working attitude towards academics, and his stellar report cards and role as Vice Student Council President were also nothing to scoff at. No, Keito Hasumi was not stupid. He certainly felt that way though, on that chilly autumn morning, stood in front of the 3-B classroom holding a love letter for one Kuro Kiryu.
He wasn’t sure when he’d fallen in love with his fellow Akatsuki member. It wasn’t like the many love at first sight scenes in films and television- quite the opposite, actually. Day by day, week by week, he fell more and more in love with Kuro, the way his eyes scrunched up when he smiled, his loud laugh that reminded him of a warm embrace in the harshest of winters. Initially, he dismissed it as just friendship. They were simply getting closer both as friends as colleagues, he insisted to both himself and his classmates, who seemed to have caught on to his infatuation. Kuro himself, thankfully, remained oblivious.
Despite having little faith in Kuro’s ability to catch on to him, Keito had put great care into making the letter as anonymous as possible, leaving it unsigned and even changing his handwriting. The chances of him reciprocating his feelings were low, he decided after many embarrassing weeks of thought, so the letter was simply to get his feelings off his chest so he could return to life as normal. For months his work had been distracted by thoughts of Kuro, important paperwork lying unfinished on his desk as he daydreamed about his closest friend, so he was determined to finally get to the root of the problem.
Then why was he frozen in the spot, unable to deliver the letter to Kuro’s desk? The room was empty, so prying eyes weren’t an issue, and anyone who saw him enter would assume he was attending to his student council duties, but still, he remained completely stationary, clutching the letter tightly. Right as he was about to force himself to enter the room, he heard a familiar voice from nearby.
“Hasumi? Didn’t think you’d be here this early,” Kuro said with a grin, snapping Keito out of his trance. Kuro’s eyes followed his to the now crumpled envelope in his hands. “Who’s that for?”
“Ah, it’s-it’s for you. I was asked to deliver it to you by another student. It seems they were too cowardly to give it to you themselves, whatever it is.” He passed the letter over, hesitating as their fingers brushed together for a split second.
“Oh? Who gave it to y-”
Before Kuro could respond, Keito had dismissed himself and began walking briskly to his own classroom. The hard part was over, now he could relax and return to his hardworking self.
That was what he’d told himself, but 7 hours later, and Keito still hadn’t felt the relief he thought he would. In fact, it had quite the opposite effect, leading to him staying behind long after classes had ended to catch up on work he hadn’t finished during lunch. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence, but as the sun set and the rain picked up, he began to regret not finishing it when he could. The weather had seemed ok that morning, so he- somewhat absentmindedly- hadn’t brought an umbrella. He carefully began neatly stacking the many pieces of paper strewn across his desk but was interrupted by a familiar knock on the door.
“Come in,” he called, smiling at Kuro as he peeked through the doorway. “I thought you’d be at home by now, it’s long since gone dark.”
Kuro scoffed. “Speak for yourself. I promised Anzu I’d help her finish some costumes for the next Dreamfes.” He opened the door fully and entered, leaning against a desk watching Keito methodically sort his papers.
“If you’re helping Anzu then why are you here now? Shouldn’t you be with her?” He wasn’t against Kuro being there, not by any means, but he was hesitant to talk with him in case he brought up the letter.
“Oh, we finished up for the night, she had to get home. I just wanted to check up on you, since it’s raining and all. I didn’t see you with an umbrella this morning, and we can’t have you getting a cold,” he said, smiling softly at him. Keito turned away to hide the blush that had begun creeping up his cheeks.
“That won’t be necessary. You can go on without me, I’ll be perfectly fine on my own.” Needless to say, lying was not one of his strong points.
“Mhm, sure you will. I’ll wait in the hallway for you, my umbrella’s big enough for two.” With that, he left, leaving him to fumble with the remaining paperwork in an attempt to not keep him waiting.
The umbrella was not, in fact, big enough for two. Keito spent most of the walk pressed up against Kuro, his only other option getting soaked through by the now torrential rain. He was beyond thankful that Kuro couldn’t see his face, as it had only gotten redder since their talk in the student council room. This stroke of luck ended fairly quickly though.
“Hey, remember that letter this morning?”
Oh no.
“I- I do. What was it?” He tried to remain nonchalant about the topic as not to arouse suspicion. It seemed to have worked, as Kuro didn’t bat an eye at his stutter.
“Turns out it was a love confession. I kinda feel bad for whoever wrote it, seems like they were having a hard time getting it off their chest.”
Oh, God .
“Doesn’t seem too out of the ordinary. You are a member of Akatsuki, after all.”
“Still, I’d feel mean leaving ‘em hanging like that. You’re the one they gave it to, would you do me a favour and pass ‘em my reply? If it isn’t too much trouble, I know you’re busy and all.”
Of course. Of course it had backfired. This is fine , Keito thought. I’ll just tell him I didn’t see their face, so I don’t know who sent it.
“I suppose I could do that for you.”
Oh no.
“Thanks, knew I could count on you,” he grinned. “Well, we’re at your place. I’ll get that reply to you tomorrow, ok?”
Keito’s side where Kuro once was felt cold and empty in his sudden absence. “You didn’t have to walk me all the way home, you know. But thank you, regardless. See you tomorrow, Kiryu.”
He closed the front door and watched Kuro linger for a few seconds, then turn to return to his own house. Only once he was sure he was gone did he let himself release the breath he’d been holding and slowly slip down to the floor, head in his hands.
Keito Hasumi was not stupid. At least he thought so, before accidentally becoming a messenger boy for an admirer that didn’t exist.
Tomorrow was going to be a long day.