#whtv

Most of the time, it was intentional. Letting the softer sides of himself slip out. But there were a couple times he wasn’t even aware Kanae had witnessed. For example, the first time she saw him smile.

It was late in the day, with only one or two students left. Really, they were only there because they were either one of the staff’s children or younger sibling. Kanae was leaving now, having gotten a text from Shinobu that she needed to be picked up. As she made her way out of the school, she spotted Giyuu standing beside a woman who resembled him. Intending to greet Giyuu—or say goodbye—Kanae had stepped forward. Before she managed to say anything, she registered a smile that seemed to light up Giyuu’s entire face. It was kind and content and softened his features, contorting the usually stoic face into something like a soothing day. As if she had seen something she wasn’t meant to, Kanae left, ducking away and pretending that she’d never made the fleeting detour that had her conjuring the smile in her head for the whole way towards Shinobu’s university.

At the time, it had felt wrong. Like she’d intervened into something personal, something only for Giyuu and the woman whom she’d learned to know as Giyuu’s older sister. But as time had passed, Giyuu began to relax around Kanae. And, eventually, he did smile. At her. Because she had always been so kind to him, despite the complaints he had received from others. She had never shared them. She had only offered him company and food and, well, smiles. He was still quiet, of course, that came inevitably, no matter who he spoke to. But his silence came comfortably, less tense, around Kanae. So they were able to sit together and not worry about how quiet Giyuu was being, not worry about trying to make conversation. And, with how much time they spent with each other now, Kanae could speak without wondering if Giyuu was actually listening, able to discern his reactions. They were subtle but there. She appreciated the fact that he would listen to her rant, regardless of if he found it interesting or not (she could tell when he was uninterested and found it amusing that he wasn’t in the least aware she could do that).

Given how different they were, it did come as a surprise for the rest of the teachers when they caught on with the fact that the two were constantly around each other. The contrast was easy to see and no one would deny that they were an unlikely pair. But at any questions about it, Kanae would simply say, “Opposites attract!” with a smile. She also used that as her explanation for when Giyuu asked why she bothered speaking to him. He’d asked enough times for her answer to become something like a tease—now accompanied by a mischievous grin and followed by a sigh from Giyuu, who actually didn’t mind.

Their friendship became something very treasurable, both caught up in the peace they found with each other. So much so that when Giyuu spoke one day, a rarity in general, they were both caught completely by surprise by his words. His own eyes widened much more than Kanae’s, a hand clamping over his mouth. But after Kanae got over it, a smile made itself known. If she were being honest, she had begun to see him in a different light. She hadn’t said anything, not quite willing the risk in mentioning it. Clearly, Giyuu hadn’t meant to say it either, his panic stirring in the way he scrambled to correct himself, shaking his head as if arguing with himself. But Kanae was quick to calm him, saying, gently, that the feeling was reciprocated—mutual in the way she also didn’t want to do anything to their friendship. Nevertheless, they did settle on something. Something that wasn’t completely a romantic relationship, but could never only be friendship. Something without a label, just for them, just for the soothing of the heart that appeared when they were together. Because Giyuu and Kanae fit like two puzzle pieces, clicking immediately without a second thought.