Acta Non Verba

1.

The journalists crowding the entrance of the civic centre were a real pain in the ass. Irina knew they rarely had any idea of privacy, but hounding a bunch of graduating children who had just gone through a traumatic event was pretty low even for them.

Thankfully, the other students protected 3-E when even Karasuma and his colleagues couldn't. Irina leaned on the wall and watched silently, relaxing only once their students had boarded the bus and left.

This was the end of it... her year as a teacher. What a bittersweet moment.

"Irina, are you free the rest of the day?"

"Huh?" She snapped out of her thoughts, turning to find Karasuma next to her. What did he want? She wasn't moving in with him until next week.

And didn't thinking of that send a flurry of warmth through her.

"I guess?" she replied. "What is it?"

"Come with me."

He walked off without a word or even glancing at her. Just like him. She sighed before following. They exited the building, heading towards the parking lot and his car. Her confusion hadn't abated one bit.

She masked it with a flirtatious smile. "Did you want some alone time with me, Karasuma~?"

He paused, and Irina was aware of a swarm of butterflies flitting madly in her stomach.

"Wait, rea—"

"Today is March 14," he said at last, which didn't really answer anything.

"...And?"

"It's White Day. Aren't you the one who brought it up last month?"

Oh yeah... Happy he hadn't refused her invitation on Valentine's like she thought he might, she had shown it by teasing him, though she wouldn't deny there had been a bit of wistfulness then. Okay, more than a bit. But she still didn't think he'd remember that.

"Get in. I've already made a booking at a restaurant."

"Don't you want to woo me with flowers and gifts first?"

He gave her an exasperated look in response and she decided not to push her luck any further, quickly getting into the front passenger seat of the car.

For the rest of the drive, try as she might, Irina couldn't contain the smile that nearly threatened to split her face.

2.

Karasuma's home was one of the drabbest places Irina had seen in all her years. It was clean and tidy, but that was all that could be said about it. The walls were a dull cream, the flooring was plain, the furniture was plainer—it was just so bland.

He had given her the freedom to decorate her own room, one of the two bedrooms in the flat, and she cheerfully made plans to do so (although she had about as many personal items as he had—which was to say, none) but the common areas remained uninspired.

"You know, you could do so much with this space," she told him. "An animal mount, a cool rug, at least some flowers."

His answering frown only cemented for her the stereotype that men were helpless when it came to aesthetics. But then again, what did she expect from a man whose clothing alternated between black, grey and white?

(Honestly though, things weren't that bad. Irina was over-exaggerating her distaste like she did most things, and teasing Karasuma was practically a pastime for her now. She didn't think it would actually lead to anything.)

Which was why when Karasuma came from work the next day, the last thing she expected to see was him holding a vase in his hands, filled with beautiful blue blooms, that he placed on the living room table.