He found her blog by accident.

It'd been one of those slow weekends, the kind where all Akihito had done was spend his time sprawled out on his sofa with his laptop propped up on his knees, mindlessly surfing the web once he'd finished his homework. He'd been wondering about Kuriyama-san all day, his thoughts drifting to her more often than was probably acceptable, a few of them a little too devious to ever voice. Several of her photos from Ayaka's shop were splayed across his coffee table; one of them even held her signature, something she'd added sarcastically when he'd shown up to collect them.

He'd grinned, of course, as he had pocketed them and she had glared with that light dusting of a blush on her face. Mostly, he paid Ayaka-san for photographs of Kuriyama-san so that the bespectacled beauty would have more money to eat and pay her rent, not that she'd figured that out. And if that wasn't a big enough reason, he thoroughly enjoyed how it teased her, how she glared and mumbled about unpleasant things, how she carried through with it any way. If it truly bothered her that she knew the photos were going to him, she'd never once demanded he stop, never told him it made her uncomfortable. He wouldn't do anything to or for her that she was uncomfortable with, and so it made him giddy that she not only didn't mind, but openly acknowledged it.

Every time he spared a glance to the photos on his table - over the course of the time he had them - he noticed how they changed, to be honest. Not in a physical sense, but in the way he saw them. Staring at a picture of Kuriyama-san with her maid costume hiked up to her thighs, those glorious red frames tilted to the side had at first made him chuckle and smile at how cute she was. His eyes had always stuck to how perfect she looked in those glasses. Lately, however, he felt more. . .dazed. And his eyes traced the lines of her legs more than the lines of her spectacles.

Even now, his memory dredged up the many pictures he had of her, perfectly replicated the curves of her body. She had wide hips despite her flattened chest, and though she was short, her legs were slender and toned under the tights and socks he never saw her without. To top it off with those glasses of hers, he thought that Kuriyama-san was perfect. Sweet, unconditional perfection. He could not hope to ever dream of or meet someone prettier than her.

He shook his head, turning his gaze back to his laptop. When had he started calling her pretty? Her cuteness was obvious, but. . .He recalled just last week when he and Kuriyama-san had been the only ones to attend their club meeting, how the sunlight had slanted through the window and casted shadows over her, how her eyelashes had curtained her eyes which had been shining like gold. The sheen left over from her tongue glittering on her lips, the determined shape of her eyebrows. It was such a distinct memory, that even in this moment his chest felt a little tighter, and he remembered with clarity the direction of his thoughts at that time. Kuriyama-san is really pretty.

With his mind was on Kuriyama-san, his eyes focused on the internet, his fingers typed her name into the search engine with a familiarity that made him wary. Since her existence was known only as a quiet school girl in the normal human world, there were really only a few options that came up through the search. He didn't know what exactly he was doing; he even blushed at the absurdity of it. She'd tell him anything if he asked, so why was he searching her on the internet?

You're a perverted creep, a voice whispered in his head, a voice that sounded very much so like it belonged to Mitsuki.

He sighed and shrugged to himself. It's not like anyone would find out what he was doing, so he scrolled through the results in front of him and curiosity stirred in him when he noticed that one of the options was a link to a popular blogging platform.

"Is this. . .Kuriyama-san's blog?" he wondered under his breath, a smile spreading across his face. His finger made to click on the link and he began to laugh once he saw her blog. Pictures of gardening supplies, intricate gardens, and various kinds of foods decorated the web page, individual personal posts sprinkled in.

"She's so cute," he told himself as he shook his head, scrolling through the pictures, pausing briefly to read the many text posts that complained about things that bothered her, how unpleasant school had been, how unfair clothing sizes where, ect. A frown pulled at his mouth when he read the ugly responses that people had to say about her and chuckled at the bitter way she dealt with their negativity. A lot of it was harsh and hateful, anonymous comments telling her to go kill herself for being annoying, informing her that no one cared.

He was irrationally angry at these strangers.

After scrolling for another minute, he was about to close out of her blog; his stomach was growling and it was well past noon, but his eye caught on the word "megane" embedded into yet another text post and he pulled his laptop closer to him.

"Wait. . ."

His eyes drifted over the text. That creepy boy with the megane fetish bought my lunch for me again today. When I said thank you, he actually blushed. What does that even mean? And why did it have to be so adorable? This is seriously unpleasant.

He instantly knew that she was talking about a few days ago, when she'd just spent the rest of her money paying for rent and had spent the afternoon with him going over a report that she was writing for her English classes at school. When he heard noises of hunger from her stomach, he'd dragged her over to a cheap restaurant and let her pick whatever she wanted. He'd blushed because of the look on her face; it had been much more grateful and open to him than he was used to and it had caught him off guard.

She thinks I'm adorable, he thought, staring at the words, reading them again. His face began to feel hot so he snapped his laptop closed, jumping up off the couch. Any thought he was having was jumbled and tangled up, leaving him to press a hand against the heat of his face and gaze blankly ahead in confusion. He needed to distract himself; his heart was doing funny things in his chest and he didn't know how much longer he could bear to handle it.

:::::

It became a guilty habit, but Akihito couldn't help himself. As soon as he arrived home from school every day, he logged onto Kuriyama-san's blog and left comments in her inbox. Anonymously, of course, because if anyone found out that he was creeping on her blog - especially Kuriyama-san herself - he was pretty sure that he'd never be able to live it down.

He thought that leaving something vague and kind was a welcome change of pace from the aggressive comments she usually got, and he was not wrong.

I'm sorry that you were stung by a bee while gardening, he'd write after reading one of her posts. She responded with surprising eagerness and gratitude.

Thanks! But I'm okay, it wasn't that bad!

Once, he'd typed up a message and stared at it for ten minutes nervously before finally hitting send. The only reason he was able to make himself press that button was that he knew she would never know that these words belonged to him. Hey! I hope you had a good day! I saw your last picture you posted. You are really pretty. You should smile next time, though, okay?

She hadn't responded at all to that message, but he felt good about sending it once it had been done. Someone ought to tell her. He called her a bespectacled beauty every day, but since it had started out as a teasing term of endearment, that's how it had stuck. Even though he was sure his mouth was shaping her name and various monikers with increasing reverence, she never picked up on that. At least he could admit it to her, even though his bits of kindness came from a stranger as far as she was concerned.

After sending her an adequately kind message for the day, he shut his laptop and threw himself onto his sofa, burying his head into one of the old pillows propped up on the armrest. Kuriyama-san was oblivious, he thought. She was already his best friend and there was no one who would ever understand or accept him fully the way she had but. . .he was alarmingly attuned to her. Noticing everything, distracted sometimes by her mouth when she talked. He'd always cared for her but these days, it felt. . .warmer. Brighter. Different.

He jumped a bit when his cell phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out with slight confusion; he rarely got calls or texts from anyone. His heart jumped into his throat when he saw that it was Kuriyama-san's number on the screen, and then scolded himself for such a reaction. Akihito had talked with her countless times on the phone before, this was absolutely no different.

"Hello, Kuriyama-san!" he greeted with appropriate enthusiasm. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"S-senpai!" she said, sounding a little flustered. There was tittering on the other end of the line that sounded far away and briefly - jealously - he wondered who was there with her, who else she was spending time with outside of school. "I. . .a-are you busy t-this weekend?"

She definitely sounded more anxious than normal. "I don't have plans," he responded, leaning back into the couch and staring at the ceiling. "Why?"

"W-well, I was thinking we could. . .d-do something," she told him.

His eyebrows furrowed. It was strange that she was calling him about this, when he would see her tomorrow at school and could ask him then. There was that other voice murmuring in the background - a female voice, he identified with relief and satisfaction - and he heard Kuriyama-san draw in a sharp breath. Confusion wasn't a strong enough word for what he was feeling, though he was pretty used to that kind of emotion these days.

He must have paused for too long, because when she spoke again, her voice was frantic and embarrassed. "I-it's okay if you don't want to! I mean, I know y-you usually - "

"No!" he exclaimed, and then coughed to tone it down, his face burning. "I-I mean, I'd like to hang out this weekend. Did you have anything in mind? We could invite Mitsuki and Hiroomi," he added as an afterthought. Akihito liked to spend time with Kuriyama-san alone, but he knew how important it was that she be surrounded by friends. It made him so happy to see that the Nase siblings accepted her and he wanted Kuriyama-san to have that, as much as possible. To have her form friendships with people she could rely on. . .in case anything ever happened to him. . .was a critical thing, in his opinion.

The voice on the other end spoke to Kuriyama-san again before she replied. "Yeah, I'll. . .I'll call them, okay? Uh, Senpai, I won't be at school tomorrow, s-so I'll see you Saturday. D-does noon sound good?"

"Noon is good. Why won't you be at school?" He hoped he didn't sound as disappointed as he felt.

She hesitated a moment, listening to the person on the other end of the line with her, before responding. "Oh, uh, Mitsuki-senpai needs me for an errand," she said, unconvincingly. He raised an eyebrow but didn't question it.

"Alright. Be careful, then," he said, his voice unexpectedly soft.

She giggled, but her voice was soft too. "I'll be fine, Senpai. Talk to you soon!"

"Yeah. Goodbye."

She hung up first and he slowly let the phone drop to his lap. On a hunch, he scrambled for his laptop and switched it back on, quickly bringing Kuriyama-san's blog back up on the screen. His breath caught in his throat when his eyes found the words on her newest little rant, posted less than a minute ago.

My friend is dragging me shopping tomorrow since I don't have any acceptable clothes for a date. Are you kidding me?! I barely have enough money for my rent; how does she expect me to have cash left over for a new outfit every time I go out? This is so unpleasant. It's not even a date!

::::

Akihito ran a hand through his hair again. He had never been much for nervous habits, but today his hair was more disheveled than normal due to his anxious fingers. There was no doubt in his mind that Mitsuki was behind the 'shopping trip' Kuriyama-san had mentioned on her blog, and his suspicions had only been solidified as he checked up on the bespectacled beauty's blog throughout much of Friday.

It was Saturday, and he'd finally decided on an outfit for the . . .outing with Kuriyama-san. His nerves made him jumpy, displeased with a majority of the shirts he had tried on already, so it was a bit of a comfort when he was satisfied with the sweater and jacket combination he had finally settled on. This was ridiculous; he knew he was acting ridiculous. He'd spent a lot of time with Kuriyama-san before, and he assumed that both the Nase siblings would show up if she had invited them, so his anxiety was absurd.

Still, he couldn't retain it. He left his apartment an hour early and took a walk to try and get his thoughts in order. Perhaps he was fidgety because of Kuriyama-san's posts on her blog, though they were vague, knowing far too much about her to know that his assumptions would be wrong. He curled his hands into fists inside of his pockets and looked up at the sky with a deep breath. It felt like his heart was in his throat and he couldn't understand it.

He was at her apartment door the second his watch told him that it was noon and when she opened her door, his chest ached strangely at the sight of her. She was wearing a pale pink dress that stopped above her knees, a grey sweater over top with one side of her short hair pinned back to reveal silver earrings decorating her ear. A smile graced her face and she adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder. The blush on her cheeks did not escape him, even as it hid under her dazzling red glasses.

"H-hello, Senpai," she said as she stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind her.

"Hi." He knew he sounded stupid, but it was the only word that made sense to him at the moment.

She pursed her lips in a moment of thought before speaking. "Um, Mitsuki-senpai a-and Hiroomi-senpai are unable to come today," she informed him. "T-they have stuff to d-do."

She was lying through her teeth, but he wasn't going to argue. She looked more lovely than ever, he thought, and he got her all to himself. That was fine by him. "Alright. So what are you feeling for lunch?"

:::::

"Senpai! Give me back my phone!"

"Not until you take a picture with me!"

"B-b-but -"

"No buts, Kuriyama-san! You never take any -"

"I take photos all the time and being the pervert you are, you buy them! Surely you can't forget that!"

"I was gonna say you've never taken any with me. I need a picture of a cute girl in glasses smiling with me; please help realize this dream, Kuriyama-san!"

"You are seriously unpleasant!"

"That's my line! Am I really so repulsive to you?"

". . . ."

"Well?"

"One picture."

"That's all I'm asking for."

:::::

She put it on her blog. He stared blatantly at his screen, his face burning hot as his heart thumped painfully in his chest. The picture they'd taken together earlier that day after lunch, the one he'd insisted on - the one she wanted no part of - was there on her blog. He gaped at his own grinning face, his arm draped across her shoulders while Kuriyama-san stood there, her side pressed into his, a hand on her hip. Though her eyes were hard, there was a softness to her mouth.

He couldn't believe she'd posted it. All that fuss about photographic evidence that they were friends and then. . .?

His eyes peeled away from the photo and wandered down to the caption she'd placed beneath it. He sucked air in through his teeth, the astonishment almost making him light-headed.

She'd written, I told you he was adorable.

Three people had already commented on the photo, asking her if he was real, if she was making things up, if she paid him to take that picture. He shook his head in disgust at the hate, but it only vaguely registered in his mind. Kuriyama-san had not only spent all of Friday out shopping for an outfit just to hang out with him today, but she'd also taken that photo he insisted on and posted it on a public space for people to see.

Maybe a part of her wanted to show people online that she had friends. He would understand if that were her motive; after all some of the flames she got were pretty nasty. However, he was inclined to believe - selfishly, wishfully - that it was more than that. After all, she could have written something more vague and non-descript under the photo, could have written nothing at all.

He quickly sent a general anonymous question wishing her a good day before right clicking the picture and hitting 'save as.'

:::::

It was weeks later, when he had invited her over for a sleepover, that his secret habit of visiting her blog daily (or several times a day) was revealed to her. When he opened his door and saw her, she was no longer merely cute or pretty, but beautiful, and he was ecstatic that tonight belonged to him and her.

His mood also had something to do with the post on her blog. The one that said how excited she was to be spending the night with her senpai.

"I brought the movies," she announced as she stepped over the threshold and hung up her scarf while toeing out of her shoes. "The movies you picked last time have me convinced you have horrible taste."

He raised an eyebrow at the jab and took her overnight bag from her. "It's nice to see you too."

She blushed unexpectedly at his sarcastic remark and averted her eyes as she passed him. "You saw me earlier today, Senpai."

The sarcasm instantly turned into seriousness. "Well, yeah, but it's always nice to see you."

"You mean it's nice to see my glasses," she accused off-handedly.

He smirked and set her bag down on the door side table. "I do live for the perfection of your bifocals."

She sniffed. "How unpleasant." Then she breathed in deeper. "Mmm. Smells good, Chef Kanbara-senpai."

"And it's ready to eat," he replied with the roll of his eyes. Her teasing was always so subtle, but effective. He was fighting to keep the blush off his face.

They ate over conversations of childhood memories and embarrassing moments, with plenty of blushing to go around. When they had finished dinner, Kuriyama-san thoroughly thanked Akihito for the delicious meal, only causing his face to deepen in color again. How ridiculous. Could he act normal around her for more than ten minutes these days? It didn't help that she stared at the expression on his face, that she seemed entranced by him.

"I.. .I'll put away the leftovers," he muttered, breaking eye contact.

"I'll start the movie," she replied, quickly stumbling out of the room.

He had just finished putting the packaged food in his fridge when she suddenly exclaimed his title in horror. "Senpai!"

His heart skipped a beat in panic and he rushed to the TV room, unsure of what to expect. She sat there by the TV, a framed photo in her hand, her face red as a strawberry and her eyes wide in shock. He knew exactly what was in her hand.

"W-w-where did you get this?!" she stuttered, flashing the picture his way. It was the same picture she'd posted on her blog nearly a month ago after they'd had lunch together. He'd already resolved that he was going to tell her he found her blog a few days ago but the topic had never really come up. As much as he enjoyed scrolling through her blog as a dirty little secret, it didn't mean he still couldn't leave his comments in her inbox, that he couldn't stop checking. Maybe she would be more careful about what she posted, but that wasn't a big deal to him. After several weeks, he knew that he was genuinely important to her from the vague posts on her blog, and so she needed to know that he knew about that, especially if he was to advance his relationship with her in the direction his heart was taking him. This was exactly the opening he needed.

"I got it off your blog," he said nonchalantly, though his eyes slid over her mouth as she worked her bottom lip between her teeth. Keeping the dusting of pink from his cheeks was the hardest thing he'd ever done. "You never take photos with me, Kuriyama-san, honestly."

Her face darkened further in color and he briefly wondered if he should be worried. "Y-you've been on m-m-my blog?!"

He grinned at her as he leaned against the doorframe. "Don't worry; I think you're adorable too. So what movie are we gonna watch?"