By Death United (A Saimatsu story)

Chapter 7

They have been speaking in intermittent strokes for a week; school obligations stealing the time away; shadows of hesitancy compelling the two to reflect on the last week's events: brewing doubt, even, and shortening the conversations at times: a natural course for a fresh friendship to take; the two deliberating on the collected requisites: character, tendencies, table-manners (not yet know), or quirks; and judging what to make of the other person. But Shuichi and Kaede went beyond that stage, rather too quickly; pushed by beginnings of a different feeling: commonly sabotaging the friendship that brought it in, and putting it between dangerous alternatives of complete, unrestricted commitment, which too often makes lovers tired of one another; or distant, wavering, overly-cautious deliberating, that disappoints anticipation and often sees one of the lovers give up from being placed on hold for so long. As if experienced in these matters, they exchanged subtle signs, exchanging mutual weariness about their unanticipated closeness, and avoided the danger by frequenting their time with others, though they didn't always do so consciously. 

Shuichi was especially taken by the advances of love afflicting him; creditable adumbrations, unfortunately; and a love-sick detective likely not suitable for the job: too distracted by blushes, accidental brushes, and the cheery Kaedeing sounding in the background; and so, plans to get rid of this feeling had to be made, lest the stern uncle noticed something: what, Shuichi getting goodie-goodie with the victim's daughter? Have him prepared for a homemade boot-camp! — or so Shuichi thought and despaired over his options; his finger hovering above Kaede's number, remembering her steady smile, enthusiasm, and sprightly encouragement, before putting his phone away; distracting himself with trying to solve unsolved murder cases; but when that was done, his desire to speak to her springboarded back against him.

''You've been more sour than usual,'' Mahiru remarked as she sat next to him. The canteen was almost empty, with only Junko and Mukuro talking in the back. 

''Sour? Do I really look like that?'' Shuichi asked, worried. 

''Sour in your own way. Maybe 'grim' would be a better way of putting it. . . whatever. Does it have to do with the investigation?''

He decided to ignore her descriptive feats, but hesitated to answer. 

''Somewhat. . . It's hard to say whether it does, to be honest,'' at least he didn't forget that truthful addition.

''How can you not know? Are you hiding something?'' 

''I'm not hiding it. . .'' He muttered and blushed. 

''Wait. . . Don't tell me,'' she covered her mouth dramatically; a bout of sanguine shock incoming. ''It's Kaede, isn't it?!"

''N-No, that's not-''

''You're crushing on Kaede!'' 

''Not so l-loud,'' Shuichi commanded meekly, though there were no willing listeners of the brewing detective-romance: there would be with a more lively main lead.

''Oh, so you're actually crushing on her?'' Whether she was questioning herself or him, one couldn't tell. 

''B-But I didn't say anything like that. . .''