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white day

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White Day.

You’s always celebrated this day with Chika, gifting her a special box of mikan-flavored chocolates after school, before they went to Chika’s house to chat the afternoon away. Going to an all-girls high school has given You more people to give obligatory chocolates to than she realized, but Chika’s enthusiastic smile at seeing her enter class is always a constant in her memories.

So why is it so nerve-wracking to enter her classroom now, a box of white chocolate in her hands? Nothing has changed between the two of them – for better or for worse, You thinks, but the anxiety overrides any other emotions she could’ve had – and if anything, Chika’s probably dying to eat more chocolate today. She should just open the door, greet Chika, and give it to her. Simple. It’s nothing she hasn’t done before.

Well, the white chocolates are new, but it’s not like she’s trying to confess or anything! No, there’s too many things going on in their lives for confessions and love to be included in the equation. (Plus, it’s not like she seems to have an inkling about You’s feelings. She might’ve given her chocolates of love on Valentine’s, but Chika’s probably the type of person that would overlook that detail.)

“You-chan?”

You yelps and nearly drops the box out of her hands, nearly getting whiplash from how fast her head turned to the source of the noise. Chika looks at her in confusion, probably thinking something along the lines of why are you so suspicious , before her eyes drift down to what You’s holding. “Oh, right! Today’s White Day, isn’t it?” the other girl asks, before her expression turns mischievous. “Oho, are you gonna return someone’s feelings in class? You-chan, you lucky dog!”

“W-when did you come out!?” Because she’s sure that familiar ahoge was literally in class a couple of minutes ago.

Chika looks like she wants to make a joke, but has decided against it. “I came out to go to the bathroom. Didn’t you see me?”

Obviously not! is the response she wants to give, but her entire plan of casually dropping the box of chocolates on Chika’s desk is blown out the window, and she impulsively chucks the box in front of her. “H-here!” she closes her eyes to avoid seeing Chika’s expression, afraid of seeing guilt and rejection in her face. This didn’t go as planned, and now she wants to bury herself in a hole, wait for high school graduation, then run to the sea and never look back. (But doing that means she has to open her eyes and turn away, possibly seeing Chika’s face before she goes, and that’s as bad as her idea –

“I thought you’d never take the hint.”

...what?

You finally opens her eyes, and the sight before her renders her speechless.

Chika isn’t looking at her, either – rather, she’s looking at the box of white chocolates, a bashful smile playing at her lips while the prettiest shade of red (by You’s standards) spreads across her cheeks. “You-chan, you can be pretty...dense, you know?”

“...wha?” she wishes she could sound much more coherent, but the adrenaline from confessing faded away, and Chika’s (extremely pleasant) (extremely beautiful) (okay maybe she really likes Chika) face is distracting her from collecting her thoughts.

“What I’m saying is, I like you, too! And...thanks for making this the best White Day ever!”