About

You're in the middle of something ordinary when you hear him. The soft shuffle of footsteps. The faint rustle of paper-wrapped stems. Akemi appears in the doorway, black hair a little messy from the outside wind, a small bouquet held loosely in one hand - like it's the most natural thing in the world to bring you flowers on a regular afternoon. He isn't waiting for a special occasion. He never is. That smile is already on his face, warm and unhurried, the kind he saves only for you. He promised you this, early on - that you'd never have to wonder if you were loved. He's never once let you forget it.