A/N: Hello, all! Welcome to my newest fic (inspired by Valentine's Day)!

I dedicate this fic as both a Valentine's Day and a birthday present to my awesome beta, hunted-snark! xoxo! Happy birthday, my bestest best friend! Lol.

: D

Full summary: Ever since freshman year, Riku had had a crush on Sora. It was because of Sora that he was the way that he was: socially active, into sports, and an Honors student. He did it all so that Sora would notice him. However, try as he might, Riku could not get up the courage to actually talk to his crush. He was just about to give up hope on Sora when he received a Valentine's Day note from a secret admirer. Even though it seemed ridiculous, some part of Riku believed that the Valentine's Day note came from Sora. The question is: who really is the author of the notes? RxS.

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Kingdom Hearts or anything associated therein.

Told from Riku's P.O.V.

Crush

Chapter One: My Secret Valentine

It was a major shock to my system when I walked into my Government-turned-Economics class and found that he sat in the seat directly behind mine. Even though my heart seemed to have leaped into my throat, I forcefully kept my face stoical and took my assigned seat, staring at the door to the classroom just to keep my eyes somewhere. Sure, there was a new seating chart, but I had requested that I keep the same seat for second semester. (I said that it was because I could see better at the front, but really it was because I knew that Sora could not see well.) I don't know why I was so surprised to find that our teacher had placed Sora behind me; maybe it was because I never expected to get my secret wish.

I suppose the real reason that I was so shocked was because Sora hadn't been in my Government class first semester; he was in period three while I was in period one. However, apparently, his schedule got switched around for his second semester. I couldn't have been happier. I was so ecstatic that I contemplated hugging Mrs. Green, our teacher, for the seating arrangement; of course, it was probably just coincidence, anyway.

Mrs. Green made her introductory speech, which included slightly joking, "Yes, we are in the same room, but now we are moving into the wonderful world of Economics!" and going into detail on this class' objectives. I listened, but, for the most part, I was dreamily thinking about the fact that my crush since freshman year was sitting behind me.

There were a few facts that I knew about Sora (some of it from observing him in classes during the past three and a half years of high school thus far; some of it from the grapevine—friends of mine who were familiar with friends of Sora). Though he was a senior as well, Sora was a year younger than I, but he was smart for his age. He had been in a couple of my Honors classes in previous years and was now in most of my classes this year—our senior year. The classes we had in common: Probability and Statistics, AP Japanese, AP Literature and Composition (AP Lit & Comp, for short), and now… college prep-level Economics. This meant that there was only one class this year that did not have Sora in it.

I was definitely liking my senior year thus far. I only had five classes; Sora had six (because he was an assistant for some teacher sixth period). During my non-existent sixth period, I usually just hung out in the library and worked on my homework; if I didn't have homework, I would either surf the Internet on the school computers, look for a book to read, sleep at one of the tables, or go off-campus to get a snack. This made for a rather easy-going senior year, and I was definitely glad that I was not pressuring myself too much.

But, anyway! About Sora… The things I knew about him: he was right-handed; he could be talkative during class (unless working diligently while under pressure to finish); he liked to doodle while taking notes (this I had seen firsthand when he sat next to me last year during Honors English III); his binders were plastered with both pictures of him and his friends and a whole bunch of stickers. He seemed to be a fan of art, because he could often be found drawing in his free time. In fact, most of my information came from the very reliable source of my friend, Naminé, who took art classes with him. From her, I learned of many things that Sora likes—since the two chatted amiably while drawing. I was always very eager to hear any news from Naminé; I always hungered for new information about Sora that could be entered into my mental archives.

When I first caught sight of Sora, back in freshman year, on the first day of school, we were waiting in line to get our updated schedules (as opposed to the ones we got at orientation during the summer). I only saw the back of his head; even so, I was intrigued by his quirky, spiky brown hair. I thought it was charming, in a way; it made me want to see the face of the person with such hair. I didn't really see his face until first period—Honors Geometry. He sat front and center, right in front of the overhead projector. As I entered the room, his head swiveled to see what new person had just come in. He blinked a bit, staring at me with those lovely blue eyes that bewitched my heart. And then, he offered a timid smile, allowing just the corners of his mouth to quirk upward. Fighting against the racing of my heart, I returned his smile, too nervous to give him a full teeth-baring one.

I made to approach him, but it was not meant to be. One of my friends, who sat on the other side of the room, called out, "Riku!" and waved me over, grinning like an idiot. I hesitated, which made the blond impatiently call me over.

Losing my cool, I walked across the front of the room, sweeping past the overhead (and therefore Sora's seat), and snapped, "What?! What do you want, Demyx?" He then hurriedly ordered me to sit down—because he had big news. His news: we all (me and my group of friends) would have the same lunch—first lunch. Quite irritated, I supplied, "Cool!" in response and mourned the fact that I was too far from the intriguing brunet to talk to him.

Ever since then, something has conspired against the two of us, not allowing us the opportunity to even speak directly to each other. It got to the point that the most we would do is exchange a polite smile here and there—maybe a nod now and then. It got to the point where it seemed that neither of us had the courage to even try and speak to the other. We had had at least one class together each year of high school… and yet, rather pathetically, we had never introduced ourselves. We knew each other's names due to the teachers calling on us, talking to us, or from presentations during class, but we never knew each other. And it had been killing me, because I was falling head over heels, crushing on some guy that I didn't even know! It was maddening!

And so, the fact that Sora sat behind me made me giddy inside; it made me both giddy and nervous. It made me think that, maybe, this year would be the year that we finally, truly met. Unfortunately, I still could not find the courage to turn around and talk to him; he, too, merely sat behind me, speaking to those around him but never to me. And then something unfortunate happened: a month into the semester, Mrs. Green decided that everyone was getting too chatty and not getting enough work done… so a new seating chart was designed. We were moved around; both Sora and I sat in the front… but on opposite sides of the overhead projector—I sat with my back to the door. The damn machine blocked us from even seeing the other's face. However, neither of us could complain because of our "vision problems". At least Sora's vision problems were legitimate.

As far as the other classes were concerned, we were screwed. Our old fogy of a math teacher despised talking during class and would give zeroes for participation if anyone talked. We didn't have third period together. Our seats were too far apart in AP Japanese for us to talk. In AP Lit, my friends surrounded me while Sora was off in his own little island on the other side of the room, in the front, as usual. Yes, we were screwed; it was not meant to be.

The real story begins on February 14, 2008: Valentine's Day.

For the past three years, I had received countless cards from admirers—all of them female (from what I could tell), most of them immature and downright inane. This year seemed no different… that is, until I encountered the note.

It was while I was on my way to my next class that it happened. Normally, I wouldn't stop at my locker between periods one and two (since the classes were very close to one another); however, today was a special case—I needed to grab my book for Honors Anatomy, because I'd shoved it in there so that I wouldn't have to deal with it during Economics. The journey from period two (Prob & Stats) to period three (Anatomy) usually took almost the entire passing period—because the classes were so far apart. This was why I decided that I would grab the book on my way to second period.

I swiftly twirled the knob on my combination lock, yanked on the contraption to open it, pulled it from the hole on the handle, and tugged my locker door open. I noticed that I had already reached an influx of love letters—even this early in the morning. Many of them covered up the textbook that I needed. After sliding the lock back into its respective place, I reached in to grab my textbook; as it came out, something slid off of it—a small, plain, white envelope. Blinking in surprise that I had missed clearing off one, I stooped down to scoop it up, absentmindedly shutting and locking my locker again, my hand blindly working the lock.

First, I looked at the front. It simply said:

To: Riku

Flipping it over, I found that the flap of the envelope was sealed shut along the seam but also had a sticker in place. The sticker was a medium-sized, red heart with white lettering that cried: Happy Valentine's Day! (I don't know why "Valentine's" had a bolder font—perhaps to put emphasis on the holiday?)

I decided that I would wait to open it until I got to my seat in Prob & Stats and shoved the envelope into my roomy front, right pocket. I walked a bit faster through the halls, wanting to get to class as soon as possible to open the letter.

For some reason, this letter stood out to me; and, even though it did not seem very original in form at all, something about it called to me, begging me to open it and read its contents. That is why as soon as I got my things settled on my desktop in preparation for class, I pulled the envelope out of my pocket, sat down, and fastidiously opened it, mindful of not ruining the sticker or tearing the flap. (I am weirdly considerate like that.)

Inside was a Valentine's Day card. This was no ordinary card, though—this one was hand-drawn (although it was on a store-bought, blank card)… and the artist was quite skilled. The illustration on the front was that of a large, very decorative heart, outlined in a complicated pattern of vines with roses blooming on them. Above the heart, the words: Happy Valentine's Day! in what appeared to be calligraphy done by the same artist. I opened the card to find it empty except for the following handwritten message:

Dear Riku,

You don't really know me, and I don't really know you, but I think I am falling for you.

There was no signature, no identification of any kind—not even a "Secret Admirer" sort of conclusion. However, there was a little smiley face drawn below this message. Needless to say, I was quite baffled at the card. Someone had taken (most likely) a great amount of time to buy this plain card and draw the image on the front… only to leave that kind of message? It just seemed rather… odd, to me. And then, further complicating things, I flipped it over onto the back, where the following words were neatly printed:

P.S. I didn't want to freak you out by writing this on the part of the card that you'd immediately see, but… I am a guy—as evident by my guyish (okay, not a word! But it should be!) handwriting. Hehe.

P.P.S. If you would like to hear more from me, please place the enclosed sticker on your locker door—that way I will know that it is okay to bother you. Hehehe.

Furrowing my brows, I peeked inside the envelope and discovered that I had overlooked a small scrap of paper; pulling it out, I regarded the sticker that was (possibly) to go on my locker door. It was a simplistic, yellow smiley face sticker. For some reason, I found myself grinning at it. It was so… silly, rather… cute, even. I don't know why, but it tickled me. Placing the sticker and the card back in the envelope, and sliding the envelope in a safe compartment of my backpack where it wouldn't get damaged, I decided that I would put the sticker on my locker door and encourage my secret admirer to write again.

At lunch, (first lunch, which Sora coincidentally had—because of his fourth period, AP Japanese) after I finished eating, I thought about the card and began to wonder about the artist/ author. I didn't dare pull out the card, because I knew that my friends (who sat around me) would inquire about it. So I just ate my lunch and pretended to listen to them while really pondering my situation.

This was the first card I'd ever received from a guy (that I knew of). Most people who slipped (or flat-out gave) me cards would usually sign it. It struck me as odd that this guy would choose to remain completely anonymous—that is… until I realized that he was actually very smart for doing that. For all he knew, I could be grossed out by the idea of another guy liking me; and if he'd given a name, then his secret would be out around school, and some hate crimes could possibly start up. …God, that would suck!

This new revelation actually made me feel relieved and even grateful that my admirer did not reveal his identity. It made me oddly proud of this person I did not even know simply because he was smart enough to plan ahead. I suppose I was rather in awe that someone around my age could be so thoughtful (as opposed to impetuous).

While I waited for my fourth period (AP Japanese) teacher to come and unlock the door, I decided that now would be an opportune moment to pull the card out again. I tossed my backpack on the ground in order to bend over and open up the small compartment where the card was stored. Since it usually took my teacher a few minutes to arrive, I figured that I would have enough time to admire it and try to guess the identity of my admirer.

I didn't know why I felt so okay with the fact that the note came from another guy. I just… did. Getting cards from girls over the past few years had bored me; in fact… the thought of ever having a girlfriend bored me. I hadn't had a girlfriend throughout my entire high school career on account of my excuse: I need to focus on my studies and my after-school stuff. This was probably true, but, at the same time, it felt a little untrue. And the more I thought about it… the more I came to realize one crucial thing: there was a high possibility that I… was gay.

It was quite ridiculous that I had not realized this before, considering that I was already aware of having a crush on a fellow male student. I guess I just never… realized the truth of it until this moment.

Completely unfocused on the card in my hands, I gaped, my heart racing.

Oh, my God! I… I'm gay? But… what? Why? How am I even sure? Oh, my God! What the hell?!

I then commenced mentally spazzing out, bouncing back and forth between questioning my situation… and flat-out denying it.

"Hey, Sora!" the voice of Kairi, Sora's best friend, cried. My attention snagged, I lifted my head to regard the pair. "Sorry I missed out on lunch! I had to make up that stupid test!"

Standing quite close by to me, I noted, Sora grinned… and my heart skipped a beat. It was that very expression, combined with his adorable face and blue, blue eyes, that had stolen my heart. Against my will, a grin crept onto my face. I quickly squashed it and made it seem like I was mindlessly staring past them, bored out of my mind. (In reality, I was admiring Sora's profile and eavesdropping on their conversation.)

Unfortunately, the one who spent the most time talking was Kairi—Sora just politely listened, smiling and nodding, only occasionally offering a word or two in response. I was quite disappointed. The redhead didn't stay long; she left a few minutes before the late bell was due to ring in order to get to her fourth period on time.

Our teacher came around the corner, her sandal-clad feet elegantly tapping along the cement, her long skirt softly swishing as she brushed past the students gathered in order to unlock the door. I took this opportunity to put the card away again and sling my backpack onto my left shoulder, letting the rest of it hang down loosely. I was one of the first to enter the classroom and claim my seat.

Amazingly enough, today, our teacher felt like letting us switch seats, informing us that we could choose wherever we wanted to sit. I nearly died from my internal spaz attack of excitement. I wondered where I should move—and if Sora planned on moving. I decided that I would stay in my seat and let him decide (which was actually quite cowardly of me, but oh well!)

I did my best to appear nonchalant and keep my eyes off Sora; to occupy myself, I pulled out my binder designated for this class and "set up shop," as I sometimes thought of it. And then I heard it: "Is this seat taken?"

I turned my head and prayed that I was neither blushing nor grinning like a fool, nor gaping, at my crush, who stood there, smiling amiably at me. I heard his question… and yet, I forgot it. I ended up nodding my head; a split second later, I realized my mistake and fervently shook my head instead. Sora laughed benignly at me, but I still blushed and avoided his gaze.

When I got the courage, I looked up—right into his eyes. Sora and I offered each other mutual smiles that were perhaps a notch above polite, leaning toward… friendly—amiable smiles between near acquaintances. I suppose this is what gave him the strength to state, "I'm Sora! I'm in… well, I'm in practically every class of yours this year!" He emitted a short laugh; I smiled pleasantly in his direction, willing my frighteningly-fast heart rate to slow down.

Nervously, still smiling, I offered, "Hi. I'm Riku."

He laughed. "I know. I've seen you around since freshman year."

"Yeah, I've seen you, too."

Oh, God. I sounded like an idiot!

I patiently waited as he sat down and got out his binder for this class. This binder had different pictures and stickers on it than his other one. Noticing a sticker of GIR, I gathered up my courage and asked, "So… you like Invader ZIM?"

"Huh?" He blinked at me. I gestured at his binder by nodding my head in its direction. Sora followed my line of vision, saw the sticker of the teal-eyed robot boy, then exclaimed, "Oh, yeah! I love GIR—and Invader ZIM! The show's hilarious! …Do you like it, too?"

"Yeah. It's a funny show."

He smiled at me, nodding softly. A moment of awkward silence passed in which Sora appeared to be waiting for me to say something else. When I did not, he glanced at my binder to see, perhaps, if I had something on it that was of interest to talk about. Unfortunately, my binder was boring—completely devoid of decoration. And so, the two of us remained in our awkward silence until, just a few seconds later, our teacher decided to start the lesson.

There were no opportunities in which I could talk to Sora, since today was spent doing silent work—reading a passage and answering comprehension questions on it. Time flew by because of how long it took me to read the short story. I did not even get around to starting on my questions. At least Sora was in the same boat—right as the bell finished ringing, and everyone is packing up, I heard him mutter to himself, "Damn! I just finished reading!"

Hoping that I sounded sympathetic, I stated, "So did I. I didn't even get a chance to look at the questions yet! It took me forever just looking up all the words I didn't know!"

He grinned at me, seemingly delighted that he wasn't the only one struggling with getting through the reading. He laughed. "Yeah, well, I guess this means that we'll both be doing the questions for homework."

I wanted so much to ask him for his number (under the pretense of working on the questions with him over the phone, of course!) but lost my nerve. I could not ask him; and it appeared that even the cheery, talkative Sora could not muster up the nerve to ask someone he barely knew for their number.

Realizing that I had already wasted a good, solid minute of passing period (the seven minutes allotted to us to get to our next class) just sitting here with Sora, I hurriedly began packing up; my classmate followed suit.

In a rather nice turn of events, the two of us walked side by side during our remaining time, exiting the foreign language building, moving down the outdoor corridor a few feet, then entering the English building through the same door (which I held open for him). He thanked me, speaking for the first time since leaving the classroom. I nodded my head to acknowledge his thanks. We then walked all the way down the hall together to our AP Lit room, outside of which we stood, because our teacher was still chatting with a colleague in the staff room next door, where she ate her lunch. This presented us with an opportunity to talk again.

I rifled through my brain for something to talk about. Striking up a conversation is horribly difficult.

So, even though we were given this opportunity to talk, we let it slip through our fingers—namely because we couldn't think of anything to say. However, since we were the first in the classroom, we paused before the right-hand corner of the blackboard to read the daily quote that Mrs. Murphy put up there (usually having something to do with our current study). I read it aloud to Sora just because I felt like it. We were soon forced to move, though, as we were blocking the other students from getting to their seats. This meant that Sora would go be in his little island, and I would sit in my usual seat, surrounded by my friends. It rather depressed me that we could be so close and yet so far from each other.

The sucky thing about today's AP Lit: today was our scheduled day to write our response to our in-class open-ended essay question on The Importance of Being Earnest, which we had been studying for about a couple of weeks. The worst part: we could not use our book; we had to pull the quotes from our head!

Our choices of prompts:

A. In many plays, a character has a misconception of himself or his world. Destroying or perpetuating this illusion contributes to a central theme of the play.

Choose a major character from this play to whom this statement applies and write an essay in which you consider the following points:

1. What the character's illusion is and how it differs from reality as presented in the play

2. How the destruction or perpetuation of the illusion develops a theme of the play

B. In some novels and plays, certain parallel or recurring events prove to be significant. In an essay, describe the major similarities and differences in a sequence of parallel or recurring events in this play, and discuss the significance of such events. Do not merely summarize the plot.

C. Some novels and plays seem to advocate changes in social or political attitudes or traditions. Using this play note briefly the particular attitude or traditions that the author apparently wishes to modify. Then analyze the techniques the author uses to influence the reader or the audience's views. Avoid plot summary.

D. "The true test of comedy is that it shall awaken thoughtful laughter"

—George Meredith

Choose a scene or character from this play that awakens "thoughtful laughter" in the reader. Write an essay in which you why this laughter is "thoughtful," and how it contributes to the meaning of the work.

Wow. So many options, and I still had no idea what to write. I couldn't help but notice the typo on the prompt, which only distracted me further from deciding what I wanted to write. Casting my eyes from my paper, I peeked around the shoulder of Zexion and tried to see what Sora was up to. He was tapping his black BIC pen thoughtfully against his lower lip while staring at his essay prompt. I wondered which prompt he would choose and what, exactly, he would write.

Dragging my eyes back down to my prompt, I wondered what sort of essay writer Sora was. Was he insightful? Was he good at writing essays? Had he acquired the necessary skill of bullshitting an essay? Was he one of the many students who did not thoroughly analyze something? Surely he must be competent at writing essays if he had made it through three years of Honors English and was now in AP Lit & Comp! Of course, then, that should have applied to everyone in here, but it probably didn't. There were still students who would get C's and D's on their essays. It probably didn't help that Mrs. Murphy was a difficult grader and a strict teacher. It was an amazing feat that my first essay of the year earned a C , and that none of my essays ever fell below that—except for that one C- on that stupid "Dramatic Monologue" essay. Stupid poetry, and my lack of analytical skills concerning them! My average essay grade tended to be in the B to B- range. Actually, I think my essay on King Lear back in October earned an A- !

Oh, dear Lord! Why was I sitting there spacing out when I hadn't even started my essay?! I only had this class period to write it, and it was expected to have at least five paragraphs! Crap!

And so, I chose the first prompt since that seemed to fit with the random quotes in my head. And even though Mrs. Murphy threatened to gouge her eyes out with a screwdriver every time she read, "In such-and-such a piece of literature by so-and-so," I put the pen to paper and started my essay with:

In Oscar Wilde's The Importance of Being Earnest, a great deal of importance is placed upon having the name Ernest. Jack denies being a Bunburyist despite the fact that he claims two different names: Jack "in the country" and Ernest "in the city". The more Algernon talks of Bunburying, the more Jack seeks to deny it. This theme of Bunburying, or leading a double life, occurs throughout the play—even up until the very end—until the Bunbury fellows that the two males created are destroyed by the truth. It is for the sake of the women they love, who are also sadly deluded, that they choose to reveal everything.

Did I really just say "fellows"? …God, this has to be the worst introductory paragraph ever! I think I just jumped from having the name Ernest to talking about Jack and Bunbury…ism. …I wonder if Sora has a Bunbury. I wonder if… I wonder if he has himself… and then his Bunbury is the author of the Valentine's Day card! …I am getting way ahead of myself—and I'm losing focus! Focus, Riku! You are in the middle of writing an essay! Quit distracting yourself!

God, I hated writing essays….

Each class was fifty-five minutes long (except for third period, which was longer because of the "every other day bulletin" that would sound through the intercom speakers—usually on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays). This meant that I probably spent anywhere from forty to forty-five minutes doing nothing but frantically writing my craptacular essay. Accordingly, my wrist was sore, and my fingers seemed to be locked into place, clutching my blue BIC pen. I was never more grateful for the bell to ring than on a day that had an in-class essay. This day was no exception. I especially loved when the bell would ring at the end of fifth period, because I had no sixth period.

I turned in my paper a minute or two before the bell rang, nearly heading toward the teacher's desk before remembering that, duh! the baskets were on the table by the door, on my side of the room!

I turned with the intention of heading back to my seat… but I didn't; I got caught up in watching Sora.

I found that Sora was still hurriedly scribbling away, determined to cram as much in as he could before class ended. I smiled; this fact was quite endearing. I found myself so caught up in watching him that I jumped when the bell rang, and everyone started shifting. Blinking a bit, I watched as the brunet across the room quickly tacked on whatever last bits he could before standing, stapling his pieces of notebook paper together, and tossing the essay in the appropriate basket (to my amusement, I found that he put it in the one with the sign marked "A," meaning: he chose the same prompt as I did). It was at this moment that he grinned at me and half-groaned, "I think my hand is broken!"

I laughed, agreeing, "Mine, too!"

One last smile was shot my way before he scampered back to his desk to pack up. I maneuvered myself out of the small pond of students gathering to submit their papers. Heaving a breath of relief, I scooped up my backpack, shut my binder (which I then crammed into my bag), and zipped the thing shut a little quickly. I nearly pinched the skin of my finger. Actually, I think I did, a little. I put my fingertip in my mouth, sucking on the injured digit and cursing my impatience. Soft laughter reached my ears at this moment; looking over proved my suspicions: Sora was the one laughing (good-naturedly) at me. I waited for him to walk the couple of feet required to cross the room before leaving with him.

"So…" he started. "What do you have next?"

I hoped I didn't sound too smug as I answered, "Nothing. I only have five periods."

"Aww! Lucky!" He shot me an envious sort of smile, pressing his lips together to further denote his jealousy of my situation.

I pointed out, "Well, you were the one who chose to T.A. sixth period; you could have been like me, you know."

"That's true. …Hey! How did you know that I T.A. sixth period?" He fixed his curious eyes on me, and my heart freaked; I panicked.

Caught off-guard, I went with, "Naminé told me," which was actually the truth.

He seemed surprised at this. "I didn't know you were friends with Naminé! She never mentions you!"

"I'm not that close to her, really. I'm actually friends with Axel, who is friends with Roxas, who's Naminé's boyfriend."

Sora laughed in delight. "I know Roxas—and Axel! Wow! What a small world!"

I cleared my throat. "Yeah, guess so." I was getting all hot and bothered by talking to Sora. It was quite stressful, because my heart just kept thumping at a horribly uneven pace.

We walked out of the building in silence, strolling along the outside corridor, the Science building on our left, the Foreign Language building on our right. When we neared the end of the FLB, Sora wondered, "So what do you usually do during your non-existent sixth period?"

I told him my options and supplied that I would probably work on our Japanese homework. He nodded then sighed, mumbling, "I better go! You know the Art buildings are all the way on the other side of campus!"

"All right! See you later!"

With a wave, a grin, and a quick "See ya!" Sora took off, speed-walking/ pushing through the sea of students on their way to class. When I could no longer see him, I entered the library, where I settled down to do my homework. I finished all of my homework, from all of my classes (well, the ones that I had homework in, anyway), with ten minutes to spare, leaving me with nothing to do. Due to this, I took out my Valentine card again and admired it some more.

I loved everything about how the heart was drawn. I loved the calligraphy-style declaration. I definitely loved the uniqueness of the main message—even though it drove me crazy. And, after looking at the back, I decided to vacate the library and go tend to the business of putting the sticker on my locker door.

I don't know why, but I hesitated. For one brief moment, I hesitated. Maybe it had to do with the fact that I knew that taking this step would be starting something very big; and this scared me. Even so, I put the sticker smack dab in the middle, just below the vents through which many notes had been slipped to me. And so, it began.

A/N: Hehehe.

Please note that any stickers that I mention in this story are ones that I have seen; I do not make them up; they are not the product of my imagination/ creativity. Lol.

This will be a short multi-chaptered fic, but, hopefully, it will also be a cute one.

: 3

Please review!

Kagome-chan