Motomiya Daisuke flipped through the pile of cards he'd collected throughout the day and popped a small heart-shaped chocolate in his mouth as he strolled down the hallway towards his locker. Today had been a complete success! He'd gotten quite a few gifts and, in his eyes, he was a stunning model of today's youth. He smiled, running a hand through his cinnamon hair and smirking in utter superiority.
Valentine's Day. Piece of cake.
As he cranked in the combination and opened his locker (While looking cool and inflating his ego, of course), he nearly missed the small pink paper that fluttered to the floor. Blinking, he reached down to pick it up, ignoring the half-finished homework sheets that tumbled out after it.
"Another one, huh?" He frowned. He'd never had one put right into his locker before. Usually they were just shoved in his face by some beet-red kid with a serious case of the stutters. He admired the craftsmanship on the little letter, taking note of the lace so carefully cut and pasted to its sides, and the neat handwriting printed on the front. Somebody had really put some effort into this. He was rather flattered.
He opened it with a large grin, figuring it was...maybe from Hikari. Perhaps she was finally seeing the light! Heh, heh. Ahem. He liked that thought. But as he looked inside, he found that under a sappy little poem and some artsy scribbles it was left blank. No name, no number, no three sizes, no anything. Not even the clichéd "Your Secret Admirer."
Well.
He continued to examine the card, finally deciding to just glare at it as though it might suddenly pop open and provide the answers to all the great mysteries of the universe. Really, why would someone take all this time to make it and shove it through the vents of his locker, only to leave it blank?
Sighing, he pushed it down into his pocket and kicked his locker shut, turning on his heel and promptly colliding with Miyako as she came barreling towards him at full fangirl speed. Ouch.
"D-daisuke-kun!" She cried, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright, "I've been looking all over for you!"
Daisuke stared.
Miyako, however, was undeterred by his lack of response and she held out a small box of chocolates to him, smiling brightly.
"Ne, Daisuke-kun! What do you think of these?"
The boy continued to gape, unsure of what to say to the violet-haired girl. Perhaps she was the one who had written that lovey-dovey letter to him? But why? Certainly a loud, annoying, obnoxious girl like her wouldn't...
And yet, as he looked at her, he couldn't help noticing her hopeful expression, the slight waver in her eyes...
After what seemed like an eternity he hesitantly held his hand out to except the box of chocolates, only to grasp thin air as the girl hastily snatched them back.
"What are you doing? These aren't for you!" She cried indignantly. "I just asked you what you thought of them! Do you think Ken-kun will like them?" She paused, her cheeks turning bright red at the thought of the slender genius boy, her eyes taking on a glazed, dead look. "Was I cute, Motomiya? Do you think he'll except?" She giggled to herself and began to drool. On Daisuke's jacket.
He let out a rather high-pitched shriek and moved away from her. Of course the chocolates weren't for him.
Daisuke simply sighed and, with a roll of his eyes he headed down the hallway, leaving Miyako to drown in a puddle of her own drool.
It was sometime during gym class that Takeru thought again about the pretty card he had stayed up all night putting together. It was so cute and frilly. He was sure Hikari would adore it. It didn't occur to him until he took a tennis racket to the head that Hikari's locker was in B hall, not D.
Ichijouji Ken moved in a slow, graceful manner down the halls, sighing sadly at the bright pink and red decorum. Well, actually he kind of stumbled down the halls. Maybe even wobbled. But anyway.
Oh, woe! There was nothing so foul and wretched as St. Valentine's Day! He had been ogled and groped and chased around school all morning. He didn't think he could eat chocolate ever again.
The poor boy was still trying to regain his equilibrium and was having considerable trouble. He ran a hand over his head, smoothing down the silky indigo locks as some were still sticking up at odd angles from a particularly enthusiastic group of girls outside the library.
He shuddered at the memory.
Shaking his head to clear his poor, tortured mind of the terrifying images within, he did not notice the spiky, brown haired boy coming towards him and, of course, ran right into him.
Suddenly it was as if the clouds had parted and the sun had shone through! For there was a wonderful friend to comfort, hold, and cherish him! Finally!
Hallelujah! Amen!
And so, Koushirou and Ichijouji exchanged notes on centrifical force and the laws of planetary and stellar motion for the next hour and a half.
Daisuke was at a loss.
Being the determined young man that he was, he had asked nearly everyone about the mysterious letter in his locker. Iori couldn't have written it, if only because he lacked the ability to appreciate cute, frilly things. Miyako was drooling somewhere, Takeru had been incapacitated by a tennis riot in the gym, and Hikari was shedding tears over the former. So...who?
Well…he hadn't asked Ken.
Ken?
...Huh.
Ken.
...Revelation!
And it was as if the clouds had parted and the sun had shone through! Almost exactly the same as in the sentence thirteen lines above this one! You can only toss revelations around so much, you know.
Daisuke smiled, his cheeks flushing a flattering shade of pink at the thought of the indigo-haired boy. So pale, so angelic...
He figured that if the author was so desperate to get him together with someone (i.e. Ichijouji) and didn't have the time or the desire to come up with a large, thoroughly engrossing plot, he might as well help her out by discovering his newly found homoerotic tendencies!
No complaints here.
And so, with a new mission in mind, he set off to confront Ken. Because only Ken could have planted that letter. Because...yes.
Ichijouji Ken sauntered down the hall with renewed vitality. He had a few new books under his arm and a small smile graced his delicate, girly features so that it would be easier for Daisuke to-
Ken continued to smile at nothing in particular, which actually made him look sort of oblivious and stupid. Realizing this, he stopped grinning and paused to look around. From a distance there came what sounded like a herd of terrified wildebeests, and a huge cloud of dust was rising and pushing towards him. He watched tersely as the stampede (?) halted. A dramatic pause followed. After a few tense moments the dust parted to reveal Motomiya Daisuke in all of his cinnamon-haired, chocolate-eyed glory! And foody description!
The genius looked Daisuke up and down before coughing and waving the dust away from his face.
"Daisuke-kun?" He murmured absently, somewhat dazed. He took note of the frantic expression on the shorter boy's face and took a cautious step forward. "Is something the matter?"
Daisuke did not seem to hear the question. He brandished the letter at his friend as though he might hit him in the face with it. "Ken! Did you write this?"
The older boy blinked at the crumpled, frilly mess in Daisuke's grasp and shook his head solemnly. "I don't usually give cards or anything..."
Daisuke shook his head. He really wasn't listening. Boy, Ken was pretty.
The flaming-jacket and goggle-clad boy seemed to be deliberating his next course of action, and Ken didn't want to interrupt. Still, he couldn't help feeling a little uneasy at the strange, bright-eyed looks his friend was giving him.
"Ken, I like you," said Daisuke, voice husky with unspoken desire. Ken flushed despite himself.
"...Uhm? I like you too, Daisuke-kun. You know that."
This was enough for Daisuke. After rolling up his sleeves, he tackled the prodigious boy and knocked the heavy textbooks out of his hands. Ken barely managed a startled yelp before Daisuke caught him in a fierce, hot kiss. Because he knows how to kiss passionately and fervently, despite being an average prepubescent middle school student. An average prepubescent middle school student who can meddle in digital affairs with pokemon rip-offs, actually.
"Daisuke-kummphhh!"
A few feet away, a crumpled pink card lay forgotten.
Okay. That wasn't very fun at all. It tried to be parody, but just kind of morphed into an awkward mess. And I wrote this the night before Katsucon when I was liek 13 zomg!11 so stfu fewls. xD
Review or whatever, because it's kinda nice to get alerts in my inbox.