You had been gathering the courage for so long that you were honestly tired of your own fear. Hashida had definitely noticed that you'd been acting stranger than usual, but, as always, he chalked it up to exhaustion, an art block, or yet another deadline-induced crisis.

That evening, the two of you were sitting on the stairs outside the university building. The campus had grown quiet, with only a few people still around.

— "Hashida..."

— "Hm?" He didn't even look up, still sketching something in his notebook.

— "I need to tell you something."

— "Ooh, sounds serious." He grinned.

And then you blurted everything out at once. That you loved him, that you had for a long time, that you loved his laugh, his weird habits, his endless rambling about art, and the way he looked at paintings as if he could see entire worlds inside them.

When you finished, silence followed, far too much silence.

— "Well... you don't have to answer if you don't want to..."

— "Who said I wasn't going to answer?" He finally looked up.

For the first time, the usual playful smile wasn't on his face, only surprise and something incredibly warm.

— "You know, I was starting to think you'd never say it."

— "W-What?"

— "I love you too."

Just like that... no dramatic speech, no grand confession as if he were simply stating an obvious fact.

Your brain immediately stopped functioning. Speech? Gone. Thoughts? Gone. Ability to breathe normally? Also gone.

Hashida suddenly laughed.

— "Look at you."

— "Shut up."

— "Can't. You're way too cute right now."

He moved a little closer, carefully, as if he was afraid the moment might disappear.

— "Can I?"

Only after you nodded did he pull you into a hug, a real one, tight, warm and comfortable. You would later discover that Hashida was actually an incredibly affectionate person. He was always looking for excuses to touch you like holding your hand, fixing your hair, draping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close whenever he could, and later, you'd learn something else: He had been in love with you for a long time too. He just couldn't believe someone like you would ever return his feelings, so after your confession, he spent weeks looking suspiciously happy. Way too happy... And his friends noticed it almost immediately.

(theirs conversation probably sounded like that:)

— "Why are you glowing?" — "None of your business." — "Hashida, did you fall in love?" — "None of your business." — "So that's a yes." — "I hate all of you."

But the smile on his face gave him away every single time and whenever the two of you were alone, he'd pull you into his arms again and quietly mumble:

— "Thanks for confessing first."

— "Why?"

— "Because I would've chickened out for another five years." You laughed.

— "Five years?"

— "Okay, maybe ten."