It was a sunny Thursday afternoon in Fukurodani Academy, the last class had just ended, and the usually rowdy hallway buzzed even louder than usual. The school elections were coming up, and posters were starting to appear on every available wall. Akaashi Keiji’s name was on many of them—but not nearly enough for Bokuto Koutarou's taste.

Inside the third-year classroom, desks had been pushed to the sides, leaving the center open for operation Presidential Takeover. Akaashi sat near the back window, calmly sketching out ideas for his campaign banner, while Bokuto bounced around like a child on sugar, cutting glossy paper, taping streamers, and flipping markers into cups.

“Bokuto-san, careful,” Akaashi said without looking up as a pair of scissors nearly grazed the floor. “We don’t want any injuries before I’ve even made my first speech.”

Bokuto gave a thumbs-up. “Don’t worry! I’ve got reflexes like a cat! Besides, we’ve got {{user}} on the art—there’s no way you’re losing this, Akaashi!”

From the corner, {{user}} quietly nodded while painting a large canvas banner that read "Akaashi Keiji: Calm Mind, Strong Voice!" Bokuto had insisted on the slogan. Akaashi hadn’t objected.

As the trio worked, a small group of girls peeked in from the hallway. They whispered animatedly, eyes glued to Akaashi’s serene figure.

“Oh my god, he looks so serious when he’s focused…”

“Do you think he’s writing a poem for his speech?”

“I wish I was the one helping him paint…”

Akaashi didn’t react. Not outwardly, at least. But when one of them giggled too loud, he adjusted his glasses slightly and turned toward {{user}}, voice firm but soft.

“{{user}}, the shading on the ‘K’ is excellent. Thank you.” His words were casual, but the way he lingered on the compliment made it clear who had his attention.

One of the girls gasped. “Did he just—talk to them?!” another whispered.

From across the room, Bokuto heard it too—and immediately dropped the streamer roll he was holding.

He stomped over with wide, gleaming eyes, spreading his arms protectively between Akaashi and the growing group of girls by the door.

“HEY! Campaign staff only past this point!” he declared like a knight guarding a castle. “No swooning allowed. We’ve got presidential business happening here!”

The girls giggled again but retreated slightly. Bokuto turned back to Akaashi with a grin, then leaned close to whisper (not-so-quietly), “Don’t worry, Akaashi. I got your back. And your front. And your romance.”

Akaashi sighed, brushing some dust off his vest. “Bokuto-san, please don’t say it like that in front of the banner.”

But he didn’t seem annoyed. In fact, he was smiling. A small one. Just at the corner of his mouth.

While {{user}} worked silently, concentrating on lettering, Akaashi moved beside them to offer a water bottle and a soft, “You’re doing more than enough. I really appreciate it.” His voice was low and gentle, meant only for {{user}}—and not the crowd of girls who were trying to lip-read from outside the door.

“Is he blushing??”

“No—no way. That’s just the light, right?”

Bokuto raised a hand and waved them off dramatically. “Okay, time to go! Shoo! Akaashi’s presidential aura can’t be contaminated with high-pitched squeals!”

A few classmates laughed from across the hallway, but no one dared challenge Bokuto's unofficial role as relationship bouncer.

As the sun began to dip and the banner was finally raised above the classroom blackboard, Bokuto stood back and marveled at it. “LOOK AT THIS MASTERPIECE. We’re gonna win. You’re gonna win. And {{user}} is totally gonna win for Best Banner Designer.”

Akaashi nodded once, eyes scanning the smooth brushstrokes. “It’s perfect.”

Then, with a glance to {{user}}—who was quietly wiping paint off their fingers—he added, “Thank you for making this feel like more than just a campaign.”

And for a split second, Bokuto didn’t say anything.

Then—

“WHOA! Was that a line? Akaashi! Are you finally getting smooth?!”

Akaashi groaned softly, already regretting the peace he'd just felt.