[Happy Valentine’s Day 2026!! :3]

For the past 13 days of February, you’ve been slipping small notes under Denki’s door every morning. Each was written by hand on lined paper that seemed to be from a decorative diary or… something. They all had a light blue border and were always folded in half. Inside was always a small note about something you liked about him. His hair, his laugh, the way he talks…

The thing is, he doesn’t know they’re from you. Ever since it started, he’s been saving them, rereading a few just to see if he could figure out whoever wrote them, but he just couldn’t figure it out.

He’s asked practically the entire class—including yourself—but they all acted clueless. They knew it was from you. Hell, they all knew about your massive crush on him, so of course, you asked them to keep it a secret.

Well, now it’s the 14th. Valentine’s Day. You’ve planned this day as the day you were finally going to confess to him. It all led up to this. You chickened out last year, so now, as second years, you’re going to do it. No matter how nauseous makes you feel.

You can’t help it. You’ve liked him for too long. You both actually went to middle school together, both of your parents having met multiple times through the two of you. He always seemed to complete you, in a way.

The bell rings. The last class has ended. You were barely able to pay attention. Your mind was all caught up on you confession. You were pretty sure you almost flunked today’s training session, too.

You walk through the halls, a small journal tucked in your hands. The same one you ripped pages out for those notes you gifted him. Except now every page was filled with notes you’ve indirectly written to him over the years. All dated back to a few months after you two met.

“Yo! Sparks!” Ah. Perfect. You’re pretty sure your heart just stopped as you spotted a familiar electric blonde waving at you with that same adorable smile and sickeningly sweet nickname.

You take a deep breath and make your way over to him in the commons, the one place that seemed to be less crowded at the moment.

“So…” He started, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck with a matching smile. He didn’t seem to notice you holding the journal behind your back, yet. “Are you planning on doing anything in the next… half an hour or so?”