花言葉・花束

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Original AO3 link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/2335286

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Little does she know, in the relative security of his thoughts, Mikoto really does call her “Chiyorin”.

She already calls him “Mikorin”. He thinks it’d only be fair.

But no, her unimpressed face back then had been disapproval enough, so fine, “Sakura” it has to be, like right now.

"Sakura, let’s walk home together?"

"Huh, that’s unusual, Mikorin. You’re not staying over tonight, either?"

Because on any other day, he would, all too willingly. Just a few minutes earlier Mikoto had been spouting off every possible complaint known to man - the umpteenth crick in his neck, the cramping up of his legs, how his fingers stopped bending properly since page seventeen. Between that and the lateness of the hour the wise thing, the normal thing, for Mikoto to do would be to tell his parents he’s staying over at his friend Nozaki’s house today, because their “project” was difficult and time kinda ran away from them. It’s not exactly a lie. And even if it was a lie, it’s not exactly a lie he doesn’t know how to tell.

(On theory, Nozaki could and should extend the same option to Sakura, who seemed to have hurt her wrist and finished off half the extra-large ink bottle. But, well, she’s a girl and all.)

"Nah, not tonight. I think my folks would’ve missed seeing me around by now." This was true. " And my cousin’s coming over - he needs my help for something." Also true. "And, well."

Here goes nothing. Bring on the sparkles.

"I am not the kind of man who’d let such a beautiful young lady like you walk in the dark, all alone."

Definitely true, the truest of truths, straight from the bottom of Mikoto Mikoshiba’s too-large, too-fragile heart.

He can feel his ears burning - Nozaki’s smoke alarms really are crap, if they didn’t even notice that - but she’s looking up at him with her eyes wide and her pink lips parted just so, and for a single beautiful moment Mikoto can’t even have the nerve to be ashamed of his being an utter cheeseball, for once. But then she snaps her mouth shut, and fixes him with another one of her unimpressed glares.

"Mikorin, you’re embarrassed again, aren’t you?"

"-Guhh! I’m not!"

Now that, that right there, that was a lie.

Why does she have to know him so damned well? Guy can’t catch a break, anywhere.

"I keep telling you, Mikorin, you don’t have to keep saying those things, if you’re gonna be all blushy about it three seconds after anyway." Sakura sighs, straightening a hair ribbon. "It’s like Wakamatsu-kun listening to Yuzuki’s songs. What did Nozaki-kun call it? Right, counterproductive."

The thing is, though, his predicament is exactly the same as poor Wakamatsu’s, and it’s not just because of any presumable counterproductive-ness or whatever. It’s to do with a certain commonplace four-letter word that he keeps either throwing around or implying in his cheesy lines and dating sim strategies. The word that he just knows colors the air around him when he’s around her, the exact same word she, in turn, would no doubt use in relation to a certain very familiar someone else.

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