A/N: written for a friend, with the prompt "valentines' day".
Suzume spends the late afternoon of the thirteenth of February walking home from school instead of taking the train, and window-shopping. It should be a little too cold for her to do that, but there is an all too familiar scarf wrapped around her neck, keeping her pleasantly cozy, and her mind is on everything but the weather anyways. Mostly, the shopwindows her eyes linger on feature a wide variety of chocolate, and, once again, Suzume is a little baffled by this big city, and everything that comes with it. She should be used to this, by now, but still she is off her guard by the assortment to choose from, that she even forgets to wonder about what she would have done if today she were still with Sensei. (Was she ever, really? At this point, it has blurred, and with it, so did the edges of her scars, it kind of feels as if it was masked with a layer of... chocolate. Sweet memories. Nothing more.)
She eventually gets too cold standing around, and enters the shop, but then she spends so long staring at various things that the owner seems to get a little frustrated. In the end, it doesn't feel right, though, and the starry-eyed girl ends up in a convenience store instead, buying chocolate in blocks, and some eggs. The bubble of excitement growing in the bottom of her stomach only convinces her further that this is the right way of doing things. This is what she knows, anyways. Even if she never gave anything other than giri-choco, the kind of Valentines' Day chocolate that you gave to friends out of courtesy, because the holiday required it, she's always made it herself; there weren't many buying options at home. Still, there is a different feeling to it now, to the fact that this really is honmei-choco, the kind you give heartfeltly.
Some of it probably shows on her face, because she doesn't remember when the last time was that her Uncle said goodnight to her with so much (rather badly concealed) laughter in his voice. Then again, perhaps the part where she's covered in flour almost up to her elbows might be a part of that, too.
Sitting down next to the window the next morning is nothing short of ecstatic. The bubble of odd happiness that has been growing in her since yesterday now expands to the entirety of her chest, until she feels she can barely breathe just from glancing to her right side, to that familiar mop of blond hair and the seemingly uninterested gaze fixed on their teacher. Mamura's eyes meet hers for the shortest of seconds, and Suzume has to plaster a palm over her mouth, because she feels the bubble might just burst, and somehow, she can tell it would be less quiet than how she has to be during a lesson. The neatly wrapped box of homemade chocolates lies in her bag, waiting for school to be over, and Suzume would be lying if she said she remembers anything she was taught today, despite the fact that she hasn't skipped a single lesson this semester.
It's odd; this concept has never gotten her so excited before. Perhaps she needed a reason to be excited, but it is the good sort of excitement, nothing like the gripping anxiety that used to grip at her whenever she thought of...
... Well, of things she doesn't want to think about today, anyways.
Yuyuka gives Mamura some chocolate at lunch break, but her face is impassive, and so is his, and only when she is turning away to leave does she give Suzume a fleeting (so fleeting that she almost misses it, in fact) smile, but it makes the odd, inexplicable, almost-jealous feeling melt away like hot chocolate, and ten minutes later, walking across the corridor, out of the corner of her eyes Suzume witnesses Yuyuka with a furious blush on her face while she hands a rather different box to Minagawa-senpai.
Mamura gives her an unnervingly long look when she finally hands him the gift. They are standing outside, in front of the school building, and snow is falling in thick flakes onto their shoulders. "What kind is it?" he asks, and it's Suzume's turn to go red in the face, because can't he tell? I worked hard on that! Stupid! "I hope it's not tuna-flavoured, or something," he adds then, and Suzume is both extremely relieved, and kind of wants to hit him a little bit. The latter feeling only lasts until he unwraps it, though (because she is quick to remember that he merely sank Yuyuka's gift into his bag with a nod of thanks), picking out one from the middle of the assortment, his cheeks beginning to flush, as if it was her fingers he was holding. Suzume doesn't resist the smile that has been trying to creep onto her face all day, not now. Not when he licks his lips so appreciatively, but still trying to look contemplative, because God, Mamura is just so earnest, but he still tries to tease her anyway. "It's good," he simply says, the blush deepening a bit, but the true compliment is the fact that he's choosing a second one to eat, even though that's not even customary.
He has not yet swallowed it when Suzume raises on tiptoes and presses her lips onto his. Underneath the obvious sugariness there's a taste of Mamura himself, and it's something Suzume can't get enough of.
It's funny to think of how terrible he used to be with touch (and kind of still is), and yet he seems so effortless in wrapping an arm around Suzume's waist as she slips slightly, holding her up steadily so she wouldn't fall on the icy ground, and yet he manages not to drop the box of chocolate either. "You'll sprain your ankle if you're not careful." And Suzume has to giggle again, because he somehow sounds both grouchy and caring at the same time.
"I just did it because there was a bit of chocolate in the corner of your mouth," she lies smoothly, and Mamura's grip tightens on her waist as the blush on his cheeks intensifies to a truly brilliant scarlet.
"You're such a bastard," he mumbles, glancing to the side.
And Suzume honestly cannot wait until White Day.