#hashida x reader

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."

Summers change as you grow older. When you are a kid the heat feels like little more than prickles against your skin; sunburn feeling more like kisses from the day to hold close to you at night. As you grew older, summers felt more weighed down. Less bright and colorful and more monochrome. Though, you've heard your friends speak of the change as a normal occurrence as you no longer have a summer break unlike your youthful counterparts.

It's not like the idea changes much for you. It's just, instead of being the kid that would finger paint and push their face against the heat of the window inside the chilly, air conditioned room, you were now the adult that supplied the paints and would pry the kids off the window so as to not burn themselves.

It was your full-time job, working at this school. You enjoyed making the kids laugh with badly timed jokes and having them dress you up in dinosaur costumes. Get purposefully awkward and embarrassed when they would ask if you had any girls you fancied so they would laugh. It was simple happiness, yet it was happiness.

This summer, however, two new recruits joined. Part timers you were unlikely to see next year or even in a couple months. You never really took mind in who each of them were. It was already enough for you to memorize all the kids favorite colors and songs as well as deal with their parents.

There were two. One was a fair haired boy, though it looked bleached, with yellow eyes that reminded you to that of a cat. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and had a wry smile to him. He looks well meaning and constantly shifted on his feet but you couldn't help but stare at the bruises against his knuckles and the very familiar smell of smoke against his clothes. His name was Yatora Yaguchi.

The taller of the two was the one who drew your attention the most. He had a pleasant smile on his face, his hands deep in his trenchcoat despite the weather. He covered much of his skin, unlike his counterpart who wore a simple linen shirt that he rolled up to his elbows. He held his head high and had impeccable posture that you almost considered him posh. He had long hair plaited into braids and while his long hair would usually indicate to you that he was on the more feminine side of things, he seemed to not care for this and simply took his androgyny in stride. His voice was deep and smooth unlike Yatora's awkward and stammering one. You chose to ignore the fact that his eyes didn't match his expression. Hashida Haruka was his name and you'd say it fit him very well.

Your boss, Ms. Saeki, apparently had a history as Yatora's teacher and recommended him. You couldn't exactly see what he brought to the table as an elementary school teacher but you weren't one to protest against others. On the other hand she had no knowledge of Hashida and by the way he carried himself, was rightfully wary of him.

You remember Meguro whispering to you as Ms. Saeki toured them around that they gave her the creeps. Both of them. You couldn't understand her grips with the two and so simply brushed her off, but you would be lying if you didn't hold your own suspicions of them. Perhaps it was because they were men? But you didn't exactly see the issue with that.

You're aware that others find it weird to hold suspicions for outsiders in such a 'cute' field as education, but you were stubborn in your views. Children are people but many educators never seemed to realize that, or perhaps never took them as kids to begin with. Even at 20 your stubbornness has never wavered. Though, this protectiveness may likely stem from the fact you have your own little sister to take care of at home, but you don't dwell on it.

Ms. Saeki clears her throat, firmly wedging you from your thoughts, "Yes?"

"Any thoughts?" She raises her eyebrows. She was a beautiful woman well into her age. Her elegance somehow seeping through with everything she did; you admired her a lot for it. She had a natural penchant with kids you worked to get and was able to intimidate others simply by a stare.

She was likely referring to your new co-workers, "They could have a bit more experience on their belt but it's alright," you shook your head at her.

She chuckled into her palm as she raised her eyebrow at you. Another question.

"Then if I asked you to show them the ropes you would?"

She always had a way at purposefully getting under your skin and it was a skill you both admired her for and resented her for, "I don't think we'd have to go that far."

"It wouldn't hurt and I think you'll make them more comfortable as one of the few men here," She tilted her head at you. Her face painted with an odd nostalgia.

You hastily nod, adding a 'sure' a beat after you realized she was waiting for a verbal response.

She clapped her hands together as she grinned at you; a glint playing in her eyes. You never quite understood her after all these years. She was first your high school teacher and then you began working with her once you graduated. You never quite had the opportunity to attempt to go pro with art, but you were perfectly content drawing with kids and having them customize your clothes with their designs of paint, pencil and charcoal. When they realized you would proudly wear out their fingerprints on your overalls or their smiley faces on your shirts they began to do it often and with happy grins and giggles around the room. You could never quite connect with people your age or older the way you would with children.

What would Miki like for dinner tonight? She always enjoyed chicken nuggets but recently has found a kick with pancakes. You could buy some Eggos at the store, perhaps?

Ms. Saeki leads you to the two men sitting awkwardly in small school chairs as they converse with the kids. One much more successful than the other.

Yatora seems to have caught the attention of Shouya and while at first glance one would be worried the teacher was being bullied by the student, Shouya always had an odd way of showing affection. The fact alone he was participating instead of ignoring everything in replace of studying or trying to escape made your heart swell a little. Perhaps you judged Yatora too quickly and too harshly. Though, only Shouya seemed to be interested in the man. Meanwhile, Hashida seems to have become a celebrity overnight with the kids. They surround him as he balances on the small red chair that could barely fit a child as he uses the crayons the kids give him to draw them what they asked. As you walk over to look at the drawing you recognize it to be the dinosaur costume you had worn maybe a week ago.

"I see you've all made a new friend?" You ask as Sae screams and laughs as she goes over to hug you. She hastily nods, mentioning how the story of the dinosaur must live on as you nod, telling her that the dinosaur must live forever.

You turn to look at Hashida, almost freezing in place as you realize he has turned his eyes to you. You're not quite sure how long but his hands continue to move as he looks at you. You find it a bit unnerving.

However, he doesn't utter a word to you, simply nodding as his attention is turned to a kid who mentions the red stripes the dinosaur had. You laugh as you release Sae who goes over to analyze the drawing for it to be as accurate as possible.

Deciding that Hashida is being included just fine, you turn your attention to Yatora who is attempting to escape death by drowning as Shouya attempts to dunk his head into the watercolors.

"Shouya it's good to ask before touching someone," You chide as he looks up at you before asking Yatora if he can dunk his head.

Yatora is hasty in replying no and Shouya, frowning, let's go of the older boy's head.

"That was very kind of you, Shouya," you nod, going on your knees so you can get to his eye level, "Would you like to pick some candy from the reward box?"

He yells an exuberant yes as you get up and lead him to Ms. Saeki's desk as you open one of her drawers to bring out the large bowl of candy. It was a good behavior checker and they also got rewarded with candy. It was easily the biggest thing you spent your money on to constantly keep filled. You can feel Ms. Saeki's judgemental eyes pierce through your skull as Shouya picks a mystery lollipop.

Ms. Saeki believed that rewarding behavior that wasn't genuine would simply lead to more bad behavior, but every child is different and eventually she seemed to understand this with Shouya. Though you understand that him constantly getting candy for simply doing the bare minimum would eventually come to bite you, but he was still young and you equally favored all the kids, and they all knew this.

"It's lemon!" He exclaims.

You give him a quick applause as he puckers his lips.

You kind of wish you knew how to deal with kids more, but teaching a kid doesn't have a manual and every single one is different. You can only sigh at the cards you've been given.

Turning back to Yatora and Hashida, Yatora seems to be scratching his head where Shouya was holding it as Hashida continues to draw, numerous kids looking over his shoulder or giving him more crayons to use. The sight itself was enough to put a small smile on your face.

Turning to Ms. Saeki, she looks amused and it takes you a moment to register why before you groan and stuff your head into your hands. It wasn't a big thing to be honest, liking men. It was simply a preference, like anything else.

Though, Ms. Saeki seems almost hell bent on playing matchmaker every chance she can get and you're not sure anymore if you should tell her to stop or just give up and see where she takes you. You understand it comes from a place of care, just sometimes you truly wonder where she got the idea.

---

It is two weeks into these newcomers positions that you realize you may have deeply discounted them. Their abilities and capabilities for the children's and responsibilities for the school were perfectly met even though both you and Ms. Saeki were well aware of their hectic schedules.

It is during one of these cleanups after school once the last of the children have gone home you find yourself alone with Hashida and Yatora.

The blonde haired boy was quite talkative bringing out a more cheerful and sneaky Hashida in exchange with jokes and references you couldn't entirely keep up with as you scrubbed away the paint stains and fixed up the markers.

Cleaning the whiteboard found yourself right next to Hashida who, very apparent in his staring problem, had stopped all activities to look at you. His eyes spoke of something but you couldn't tell what. The shivers down your back only intensified when you went to stare him down and he didn't back down.

"Hey, what's been up with you? You're not usually so quiet, Hashida-san," Yatora, ever defeating the stereotypes of the rebellious bleach blonde said, his tone almost demure in the way it was spoken.

Hashida, in reaction simply chuckled, his eyes finally averting to the floor, "My apologies. I just..."

"You don't need to mince words around me, the kids aren't here anymore."

At this he chuckles a bit louder, his voice sending echoes into your chest that you'd rather not focus on.

"Your looks. They are quite alluring."

...

What?

Your face flushes as it heats up and you drop the washcloth to cover your face, "Oh hell."

You can hear the smile in his voice when he says, "What? Not used to my artistic perspective?"

Yatora seems frozen in place as you slowly pry your fingers from your face, very much wanting to scream and kick your feet in a very much not mature manner.

It was no doubt that he was attractive. It would be a crime to say he wasn't. What didn't make it fair was his habit of teasing you when children weren't looking as though it was some joke. Perhaps he noticed your staring back at him or maybe Ms. Saeki snitched and told him you were fascinated by him first.

"You are just..." You grumble, flexing your hands, "I find it humorous but don't do it often."

At this his smile wavers before being plastered in something that is more teeth than smile, "I'm hurt you find my opinion humorous but not everybody can see what I can see, can't I?"

Your eye twitches, "I'm not up for this conversation and I don't appreciate my looks being on the end of whatever this is."

At this he fully frowns, going to say something but—

"Oh shoot Sae forgot her notebook!" Yatora helps, holding up the pink and bedazzled book.

You smile, nodding, "I'll bring it to the office and call the parents," quickly grabbing it as you all but shove your cleaning supplies back in the bucket and speed walk, Hashida's eyes piercing your back.

What a first impression.

---

It is during the end of their stay at the summer camp as you wrap up that you realize why you've been on eggshells. Not in a negative manner, much less a disgusted one, but rather and discomfort over how wound up he gets you. How his eyes can't help but be drawn to you.

"I don't think I'll ever teach," He groans, head sinking onto the little drawing table.

"It's certainly not for everyone," You shrug, opening your soda as you take a nice long drink, "Good to know you lasted even after that fiasco with little Sae though."

He sighs, lifting his head to stare at you.

"I don't think it was fair."

"You don't have to think it was fair, but unfortunately you can't help everyone if the parents are deeply against something."

"They shouldn't."

You smile softly, "If there were more people like you I'm sure there would be a better place for that kind of thinking."

At this he goes quiet, staring at you with an unmoving expression.

"Hashi—"

"Let's go out for coffee," He grins, "Unless you're too afraid to be seen with me?"

He places a hand to his head, leaning back as he sighs dramatically, "I can't believe you would even accept my kind in these hallowed halls."

"That's enough but now you're paying for me because of your dramatics," you roll your eyes, cracking a small smile that seems to make him light up into a grin.

You'd think after almost 3 months of non-stop contact communication you would understand him better, but yet you still struggle even reading his expressions. His face oddly unmoving, his actions mysterious and unexplained. Except to Yatora, Yatora always somehow understood in a way that sometimes frustrated you for...

For what?

Nevermind, coffee does sound very good.

"there's a good place down the block?"

"oh I'm aware," he chuckles, moving closer to you as he gets up, wiping his hands of the last remnants of melted crayon, "I've been there on recommendation by Ms. Saeki."

You raise an eyebrow, "So I guess you do listen to some people."

He cackles, moving to grab your waist as he pushes you both towards the exit, the small touch enough to set your nerves alight.

"Ready?"

All you can do is get out a hum. Your trust for your voice to not be a squeal low, if at all.

---

Hashida had called out to you as you walked out of the building, his hand waving through the cold air as he caught up to your pace. His hair was in his two familiar plaits, which were hidden by his scarf and trenchcoat.

"Shouldn't you be in class right about now?" You raised an eyebrow, tucking your hands into your coat pockets.

"I only need to attend one or two classes for attendance to count, don't worry yourself sick about it," He laughed as his shoulder brushed your own. He had a deep hearty laugh that made your head slightly spin.

"Then may I ask how you found me?"

He tilts his head to the side, softly scoffing, "You've been working at this school for who knows how long? I could recite your weekly schedule if you'd like me to."

You grimace, turning away from his gaze as you cough into your hand, "And here I thought I could escape you."

Here he laughs, his laughter echoing through the quiet that settles in winter. The sun has already gone down, so the only thing really keeping both of you visible is the lamps that you two pass every so often. It paints his face in yellows and soft golds as you turn to meet his gaze. He had an odd habit of staring.

"I think you're a bit too interesting for me to ignore," He said, his voice unrecognizable in tone. Somehow, you got impossibly colder.

"Besides," his voice brightens up, leaving you reeling, "How did you know I have class today?" He grins at you as you roll your eyes.

"Do you not remember telling me your schedule? You didn't allow me to leave that coffee shop until you decided I knew enough."

You click your tongue as you finally begin turning towards the parking lot, your car finally in sight. It was a quaint thing you got a little after summer. It's decently beat up and you have to replace the tires when you got it but it works.

His mouths make an "o" as he blinks at you owlishly. Then, suddenly, he breaks out in boisterous laughter. His grin splitting his face cleanly in half.

You dig out your keys in your trenchcoat as you unlock your car and turn it on, before turning to Hashida, "Do you want a ride?"

His laughter stops. He stares at you for a moment longer than you'd like to recall, before smiling— not grinning— and gingerly getting into the car.

You don't think you've seen him so awkward, "Do you live on campus? Or do you have a place of residence?" You ask, pulling up the GPS.

Silently, he grabs your hand and softly pushes it away, before typing in the address. Place of residence, you suppose. It's certainly not the school.

You nod, a little uncomfortable at the sudden silence before you jump as he rests his hand against yours on the armrest.

His hands are surprisingly warm despite the cold temperatures outside. His fingers are relatively long but they aren't exactly delicate or fragile like one would take an art student. After all, if an art student loses their hands they'd lose a lot of options, wouldn't they?

You stay there for a long moment, holding your breath. His hands are simply brushing over yours, his hold on your hand barely there, if there at all. This might be a trick of the imagination.

Turning to look at him, you find yourself once more staring into his eyes. He definitely has a habit of staring, doesn't he?

There is a strange heat in his eyes. You cannot quite place it and you briefly wonder if he's somehow judging you, though he isn't exactly the judging type. All the same, however, his eyes are picking you apart, like they see something only he can see. Something that is entirely invisible to everybody else.

You clear your throat, turning away as he practically jumps away and into the window. You can only stare with your jaw a little open as he makes a feeble attempt at rubbing his head from where he bumped it.

"I'm gonna be driving now, say now if you want me to drive you or sign off on your will," You buckle yourself as you begin pulling out of the parking lot.

He is quick to buckle himself as he makes a weak chuckle, a strain in his voice. It makes you frown a little. You don't think you've ever seen him so vulnerable.

You pull out as you make it out of the parking lot and into the bustling roads and twinkling city lights, all the while Hashida seems as still a statue.

"Are you alright?"

"Worried for me, are we?"

"God, forget I asked then," you roll your eyes, your phone softly reminding you to turn right on the light as you continue moving forward to your destination.

It's a tranquil silence, though you can feel his eyes on you.

"is there a reason you insist on antagonizing me, Hashida?"

You catch his eyes in your front mirror as he licks his lips and looks to his hands, "I'm not trying to antagonize you I'm just... Trying to figure something out."

"And that has to do with me?"

"Yes, clearly," he says with a little snark, "Or maybe I'm just looking for my lost treasure and you have it?" He drawls, waving his hand around dramatically.

You make a little argh sound, making him crack a smile as you pull into his apartment.

"Do you need me to drive you closer or is this close enough?" You place yourself in park as you turn to look at him, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly agape as he looks at you.

"You're doing it again, Hashida."

He visibly gulps, his eyes darting around you as he licks his lips, shamefully bringing your eyes to his lips. A soft pink that contrasts his otherwise monochrome palate.

"I just—"

He shuts his mouth, "Actually, would you like to see the current project I'm working on?"

You blink, "I'll never turn down free art."

You are quick to shuffle out of the car and lock it as you two make it to the elevator, his hand ghosting your waist as you both wait for it to go up and up.

Shivers go down your spine every time he moves and his hand brushes the side of your waist, his hand hovering barely an inch over you. You elect not to comment on it in part that you don't want it to stop.

Finally the elevator chirps, the doors opening as he leads you to his door and unlocks it.

It's messier than you'd think of someone like him, the warm yellow lights casting a soft glow on the eclectic carpets and furniture he has clearly cultivated over who knows how long.

You slowly take off your coat, putting it next to his on the rack as you take off your shoes and step inside, Hashida quick to scramble to get you slippers as you are all but carried inside.

"Sorry for the mess, I wasn't planning on having visitors," he says, grabbing fashion magazines as hurriedly shoving them in an already overstuffed bookshelf.

"it's really nice actually," you shrug, your sweater feeling hotter and more scratchy the more you look at him in just his turtleneck and slacks.

He seems frozen for a moment, looking towards his room before he makes his trek in his room, the shuffling clearly of a canvas.

He slowly waddles out, sure to not show you the canvas just yet as he sets the rather large piece down.

"It's not finished."

You shake your head, settling down on his couch, "I don't care."

He seems to look for a tad too long at you making yourself comfortable on his couch, his eyes lowering and fluttering at you in a way that positively makes you squirm underneath his stare before he turns his attention back to the canvas and quickly flips it over.

It's certainly passionate. It takes you a moment to register the form in the painting being surrounded by the bright pops of color and light. The figure is half cloaked in sunlight with closed eyes but that hair is most definitely yours. Your face shape and clothes too. You can't remember the last time you wore your summer apparel but seeing that flowy shirt of yours is certainly a positive treat.

You smile at the canvas before redirecting your gaze to him, his eyes on you the entire time.

"it's lovely"

At this he breathes in sharply, setting down the canvas and turning away towards the window in his living room.

Your eyebrows scrunch, a slight frown to your face, "Hashida?"

You step closer to him, grazing your fingers against his shoulders.

At this, he turns around sharply as though burned but—

Oh.

His hands are cupping your face, his lips against yours as he squeezes his eyes shut with his face flushed a bright red.

It doesn't even take you a second to melt into him as your hands go up to his shoulders, one playing with his braids.

It seems this is enough motivation for him to let out a pleased groan as though this has been haunting him as he briefly breaks the kiss to shuffle you to the couch as back of your knee hits the sofa and you fall back.

His hair cascades over you as he cages you in his arms and leans back down to kiss you, his lips just as soft as you have imagined them. Your hands thread together behind his head as he uses his spare hand not holding himself up to hold your back, leaving you in an arch.

"Hashida?" You mumble against his lips as he hums.

"It's beautiful."

Haruka only offered you a smile as he opened the front door to your apartment for you, this is how it normally went; you knew that it would be like this when you chose him for this observation. He was quieter with you; it was like his brain had the chance to catch up on itself with the craziness that is an art student. 

With your tickets secured you both walked inside the building you were met with silence and cold air. Taking out your notepad you fell a few steps behind the tall man and studied him closely, picking up on his emotions as he looked over the paintings and sculptures. He explained a few pieces to you after he caught you staring curiously, he was never rude about it he was gentle and calming. 

Your notes today were about the subtle changes in his mood and emotions, it was such a shame he was a pretty boy. The way his braids slightly swayed as he gazed between the paintings, the way his eyebrows knitted together as he scoffed slightly at a Picasso piece. 

He asked you every so often what you enjoyed about the pieces you were looking at, though art was not your expertise you made comments about the colors and the inspiration behind them. Every once in a while he would talk to a fellow art connoisseur while you stood back taking your notes and filling out the required questions. 

After about 30 minutes you finally took a seat, while Haruka was off talking to a student from his school you glanced into the interactive piece you subconsciously sat by. The water in the pool glowed as the water stilled, the instructions to this were to experience the waves and how life looked with them. Your bench was a bit above the water, so you reached your hand down dipping your fingertips into the water, counting the ripples you caused and the way they bounced back when hitting the edge of the glass.

Raising your hand from the water you flicked off the rest of the moisture watching the drops fall back to where they belonged. A smile crossed your face as you thought of Haruka’s response to this piece. It was not art in the traditional sense but the commentary would be interesting. 

“This is hardly art.” A huff came from behind you as long black braids fell to either side of your face, you could smell the subtle cologne he wore as he studied the ripples that were fading away. 

“You are correct but I like it. You get to control what happens with the water, it really is all in your hands.” Taking a spare pencil you thrusted the eraser into the water sending ripples throughout the container, then you dipped your fingers back in gently watch the slow waves meet with the larger ones. 

“You would like this one, as a psychology major.” His voice was teasing of course but there was some sincerity behind it. “Art is my department.” Having you a handkerchief you dried your hand and pencil and went to hand it back as you stood up. “Keep it for now, I think there may be other interactive arts here.” 

Though there were you didn’t quite enjoy them as much as the water one. After excusing himself real quick you stood by the water again watching as children splashed the water watching the ripples distort their faces and your own, yet the corner you stood at calmed after the waves were sent back to the young children. 

You were so entranced with the piece that you lost track of time. Soon the children left and you were standing by yourself, leaning against the barrier you played around with the water with your fingers. 

After a moment the sounds of footsteps pulled you from your head as Haruka approached, a soft smile etched on his face. “Ready to get some dinner?” 

With a nod the two of you left the museum stopping by a ramen shop to eat, the entire time the two of you talked about what you saw on your trip and your feelings behind the art, though he sneered at the Picasso arts you couldn’t help but smile at his distaste for the man's work. 

Taking you home the two of you parted ways, today was the last day you would see him for this project, part of you hoped you would still meet up every once in a while but that remained to be seen. 

A week later you turned in your project, you got a text from him telling you to meet him at his college you grabbed your trust cardigan and a thank you basket for his help on your work. The two of you met at the front. “Here, this is a thank you for all the help.” 

A genuine smile cracked his face as he took it. “I would offer you one too but I have something much better.” Guiding you inside the school you were taken to a hall where various works were being displayed, you had seen his handy work upfront as he sketched while you were asking him questions but surrounded by paintings you were at a loss for words. 

A blonde looked as the two of you approached, he had a shorter friend with him as they both stared at you with wide eyes. They glanced back at the two paintings in front of all four of you and then back. 

Taking a glance at Harukas work you froze in place, they were big canvases of the museum, the wave pool and most importantly you. The first one was you sitting above the pool with your cardigan flowing around your body with your fingers in the water, your reflection staring back at you; the second one was you staring into the pool longingly as the waves seemed to be alive on the canvas. 

“Haru…” 

“This is my thanks for all the hard work you put in.” His voice was just a whisper in your ear as your heart swelled in your chest, unable to pull your eyes away from the masterpieces in front of you. 

I actually don’t know what’s up with him like does he have an art kink or smth 🤨🤨

He’s hot tho so ig it’s okay

As a fellow artist you find his art very interesting

You definitely ask him for tips on how to make your art a bit more surreal

He asks you to Braid his hair often and if you want he’ll definitely dye and cut your hair for you (it will look kinda bad don’t let him do it)

if you do sculpting or something like that he may ask to paint on the ones you don’t like you might even end up liking it

Dates tend to be pretty average, he may take you out to eat or a museum

You try to get him to stop bothering Yotasuke the best you can, which he is deeply grateful for (he won’t ever say it tho)

He never changes himself for you and suspects you to not go the same

He actually loves you with his entire being

When he first met he treated you like everyone else, inviting you to places right after you met him.

You got kinda scared he was really eccentric

Overtime he was more and more interested in you

When he confessed he was very open and got straight to the point

He so wants to match clothes with you

Please match clothes with him