story ain't mine!! found on Tumblr!!
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"Eyes For You"
WATANABE HARUTO FASCINATES YOU.
You can’t pinpoint what exactly it is about him that intrigues you so, whether it’s the way in which he shyly dips his head upon entering your Photography classroom, or the way he clasps his hands together in order to make his shaking fingers less apparent. Whatever it is, you know right at that moment that there’s something about his aura that draws you in, even as he stumbles over his words when he introduces himself as the new foreign exchange student from Japan. (You decide that maybe, just maybe, you find him a tiny bit cute.)
Your fascination with him only grows when he’s assigned to be your seat partner, Haruto greeting you with a slightly awkward but polite bow when he approaches you. When he settles in next to you, you can’t help but grin at the way he haphazardly adjusts his long legs under your shared desk, he himself letting out a small laugh at how his height plays against him in situations like these. It’s easy, genuine, and you can immediately tell he’s attempting to lighten the uncomfortable situation that comes from any two people meeting for the first time. You wholeheartedly do the same, managing brief introductions with him before the lesson starts. Still, the man is a bit of an enigma to you. His profile lingers in your mind even after you both part from the class, and your brain is left with a mess of questions, hoping to get to know him better.
Curiosity leads you to begin unconsciously observing him over the next few weeks, catching onto his small tendencies such as his way of scrunching up his lips when he’s concentrating. It’s endearing, his little pouts and the way he looks up at the ceiling when he ponders on an answer, often fiddling with his pencil as well. Although you’d never admit it out loud, you develop a particular fondness for his tendency to play with the back of his ear when he’s nervous, a characteristic of his that’s normally accompanied by flushed cheeks and a cute flash of teeth.
Alongside the little habits of his you pick up on, however, one of the main things you notice by being in his company so often is how extremely quick your classmates are to shun him simply for being so new, so different from them. It’s baffling, to say the least, how they avoid his gaze when he attempts to make eye contact, or how they pretend like they can’t hear him when he asks a question. You often find yourself carried away by the sheer frustration of it all, finding the need to defend Haruto whenever you notice your classmates purposefully ignoring him.
"He’s not invisible, you know,” you tell your classmate when she bumps into Haruto and says nothing. She nods briefly in response, throwing Haruto a mumbled “sorry” before hastily running off.
“Thanks,” Haruto whispers, shooting you a grateful look, but you can sense the lingering dejection behind his eyes—his eyes that eventually, you notice, can only stand to make contact with yours.
As furious as you are by this whole situation, there’s no denying that it also sparks a bit of pity in you, and perhaps that’s especially why you strive to strike up a conversation with him. However, the boy still intimidates you just a little bit. After all, the only comfortable conversations you’ve had with him are about your class, often involving a borrowed pencil or shared answers. You often consider how you can hold a lengthy conversation with him on a topic other than school, but you always come up blank.
When your teacher begins to introduce the first project for your Photography class, in addition to writing its due date on the board, you hear a quiet groan from beside you.
“That is not enough time for a whole portfolio,” Haruto grumbles, and you can tell in the way he leans towards you that he’s talking to you. “My ideas are definitely gonna suck ass.”
“I’m convinced she just wants us to fail at this point,” you respond, to which Haruto laughs quietly. The bell rings almost immediately after, and you impulsively catch Haruto’s arm as he begins to stand up. “Do—do you maybe wanna meet up to work on the project? We could help each other out.” You shrink up slightly at the hastiness of your question, expecting a blunt, or even cold response. What you don’t expect is the warm smile breaking out on Haruto’s face, his eyes sparkling in a way that nearly knocks you off your feet.
“For sure! Should we exchange numbers to work out the details?” You nod, matching him with a smile of your own, but you feel guilt creep into your conscience for being so quick to judge him from his tough appearance.
Your text messages with Haruto start out icebreaker-like, questions asked and answered on both ends in an effort to become more comfortable with each other. When he shows up for the project as promised, things are still slightly awkward, perhaps because you’re not online or in the school environment you both had become familiar with seeing each other in.
“So . . .” you start, trailing off as Haruto responds with a hum of acknowledgment. You can’t help but internally cringe at the pause that follows, deciding not to make eye contact with Haruto out of fear that you’ll become more nervous. Instead, you look around the park you two stand in. The embarrassment kicks in after, and you feel stupid looking around the park as if you don’t know the place like the back of your hand, as if you’re not the one who suggested meeting up here in the first place. Finally, Haruto fills the silence.
“It’s weird meeting like this, isn’t it?”
The breath you were holding comes out in a laugh, and you relax as you turn to face him. “I thought I was the only one thinking that.” Haruto grins at that, and from there you fall into your usual, easy conversation.
“The sky gets really nice around the time, so it’s great for the project. We could also take pictures of each other if it fits one of our themes,” you suggest, and Haruto’s eyes light up.
“In that case, you fit my theme perfectly.”
You allow Haruto to take pictures of you to satisfy his project, posing according to his instructions. He gives you bizarre guidelines for what expressions to make, supplying you with a variety of scenarios to imagine to “get you in the mood,” to which you ask, “Do you have these thoughts often?”
“I take pictures from my imagination,” he replies, shrugging comically, and you giggle.
The two of you are soon throwing in bits of conversation completely unrelated to your class, losing productivity the longer you talk. To say the two of you are beginning to get distracted is an understatement—by now, you’re snapping picture after picture of Haruto as he haphazardly attempts to climb one of the trees. You learn that he’s absolutely not one for balance, but he surprisingly manages to pull himself onto one of the branches after a few stumbles and much more laughter. You’re eventually taking selfies with him from the ground in which you catch him falling off the tree in what might be the most hilarious photo sequence you’ve ever taken. Haruto survives the fall, thankfully, and he can’t help but join in your chuckles.
“We should probably stop now,” you suggest in between gasps of air, Haruto himself still clutching the sides of his stomach.
“You’re right, we definitely won’t be getting anything more done,” he agrees, and you promise each other to meet up again and get more done the next time. (It isn’t until after Haruto leaves that you realize you’d spent nearly four hours with him.)
When the deadline for the portfolio passes and you receive your scores, you can’t help but feel dread settle in your stomach as you wonder whether it means the end of your growing friendship with Haruto. Now that you won’t have the constant excuse of the project, would you never meet outside of school again? However, you find yourself relieved when Haruto approaches you at your lunch table to discuss the project, which you both succeeded at with flying colors. You briefly compare your pictures, laughing as you come across the ones you’d taken of each other and recall the days you’d spent. Haruto never tells you what the theme of his project is and why he needed so many pictures of you for it, but you swear that you catch a glimpse of it scribbled on the cover of his portfolio. (Beautiful.)
You begin texting Haruto more often, and the awkward “did you understand the assignment?” texts turns into late-night musings over the most impulsive thoughts your brains would spit out. As you get to know him better, you find that Haruto’s messages in particular are often accompanied with long lines of emojis when he’s particularly passionate.
”Thoughts on sushi?” Haruto once texts you at 3:00 A.M., and you can’t help but laugh at the timing and spontaneity of it.
y/n: never had it actually
haruto: no fucking way
haruto: you have to try it i’m so serious
y/n: are u gonna make it for me 😚
haruto: think i’ll burn down the kitchen another day...but i’ll search up restaurants
haruto: i miss it so much
haruto: i miss home
Your heart clenches at the last text, and you find yourself almost immediately peeking outside the door of your room to check if anyone is awake. Of course, no one is at this hour, so you tiptoe down to the kitchen to see if you have the ingredients. When you proudly show Haruto your creation the next day at lunch, you push away the feeling of butterflies in your stomach when he lets out a delighted gasp, his eyes tearing up. When he takes a bite of the sushi, his face breaks out in the largest smile you’d seen on him. He’s glowing, and it hits you with a wave of emotions that you chalk up to relief over him liking the food, because the idea of it being anything else is too scary for you to consider. (It occurs to you later that day that for the past month, you had been spending every lunch with him.)
At one lunch break, Haruto mentions a coffee shop he had recently discovered, where he invites you to hang out. The shop soon becomes a regular meeting place, the two of you discussing a wide variety of topics from your wish to pursue photography as a career to his hidden passion for track. You pretend not to notice your heart stuttering in your chest when you see the sparkle in his eyes as he describes the team he was on in Japan, and he tries to ignore his ears turning red on the several occasions in which your fingers touch his.
You begin to rely on each other, supporting each other at various events and offering encouragement as friends do. Haruto is there at every single one of your photography contests, and likewise you accompany him at tryouts after hours of convincing him to display his talent to the school’s track team. Indeed, you’re the first person he calls when he gets in, barely able to contain the squeal in his voice when he breaks the news to you.
The two of become accustomed with calling each other by nicknames, the name Ruto usually slipping from your mouth on impulse. (Eventually, though, you find yourself intentionally using it just to watch the way in which his eyes brighten and his lips turn up.) Haruto himself becomes incredibly fond of teasing you, constantly making fun of the little things you do and possessing a knack for making you laugh at exactly the right moments. And of course, eating sushi together becomes one of your favorite shared activities.
You’re not sure when it is exactly, but your friendship soon takes a more intimate turn. You grow closer to each other in ways you might not have been before, and multiple times you find yourself wondering why it is that Haruto makes your heart flutter differently from that of other friendships.
You notice it the day he leads his team to victory in their first major relay race, when you shriek, “That’s my best friend!” in delight and run all the way down to the track straight into his embrace. “Oh my god, you did it!”
Haruto’s arms wrap around you instantly, and as he spins you in the air you can only hear the sound of his laugh and your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. When he finally sets you down, you have to convince yourself that the running is the only reason your heart’s racing, and that it definitely is not because Haruto’s looking at you like you hold the entire galaxy in your eyes, like he would fly to the moon and back if you asked him to.
“Thank you, Y/N.”
You furrow your eyebrows, confused. “I didn’t do anything.”
Haruto shakes his head, his grip on your waist tightening in the slightest. “You did. I definitely wouldn’t have joined the team if you didn’t drag me to tryouts. So, thank you.” He gives you one of his most dazzling smiles as he leans in to hug you again. You’re left with the feeling of your stomach turning, jumbled in a way you can only compare to the lens of a camera going in and out of focus.
Over time you realize that there’s more than simply the blurry-lens confusion, that there’s also a strong gratitude you feel towards him. You feel it particularly at the times that you call him late at night, usually out of overwhelming feelings of stress or a simple need to talk. Whether he was previously asleep or not, Haruto always picks up, and somehow despite your nearly incoherent rants, he understands you perfectly—he always does. He patiently listens to all of your troubles until you’re out of breath, and by the end of it, he routinely asks you to promise him that you’ll keep calling him whenever you feel this way. He continues to surprise you with his methods of calming you down, sometimes turning on his video camera so his words can more sincerely reach you, and other times singing to you, his low, baritone voice instantly soothing you to sleep. (He tries not to let any awkward stutter show in his voice each time you praise it. Singing embarrasses Haruto, but he does it over and over for you.)
Haruto has a way of communicating his feelings more strongly through his actions than his words, and it touches your heart in a way you’d never experienced. He takes to clinging to you when the two of you walk through the school halls, often gripping your arm so that he doesn’t lose sight of you in the huge mass of students. Other times, he squeezes your hand as a silent form of encouragement, and the simple gesture means more to you than you could ever tell him. On one particular night at your house, he opens up to you regarding his homesickness and you almost immediately embrace him.
“I know it’s hard being away from home, and I’m sure they’re thinking of you a lot too,” you console him, feeling him nestle further into your shoulder in response. He sniffles, trying to make the sound subtle but your heart cracks when you realize he’s crying.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, but you shake your head and tighten your hold.
“Don’t apologize, I’m glad you told me. I’m here for you, okay? I'm sorry I can’t do much, but I’ll make you sushi tomorrow.” You stroke his hair carefully as he cries into your shoulder. In between little hiccups, he recounts whatever he can about Japan to you and what he misses. You avidly listen, holding him in your arms for nearly a full hour.
When Haruto calms down enough to stop shaking, he pulls away from you, enough so he can face you but not enough for you to let go. You can’t help but marvel at how he still looks gorgeous despite the remains of tears streaking his face, and you briefly wonder how someone can be such a pretty crier. However, all thoughts fly out of your head the moment Haruto musters the courage to lock eyes with you. Your breath hitches, caught off-guard by the emotion in his expression that you can only describe as pure, unadulterated sincerity. He says nothing, only leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your forehead. Haruto is truly a man of action, and the warmth of the kiss tells you more than words need to. He’s thanking you—for listening to him, for supporting him, for everything, really.
The heart-pounding exhilaration combined with the deep comfort and respect you feel for Haruto only confuses you further, and you spend many nights lying in bed contemplating what it all means. Most importantly, if it is what you think it could be, how in the world are you supposed to tell him?
You figure that it’s best to wait, that he probably can’t use another distraction in his life, especially with his increased popularity among your schoolmates for his remarkably stunning performances on the track team. A part of you feels irritated by it, at how the very same people who initially refused to even look at him grew to claim to be his number one supporter. But Haruto never fails to notice your annoyance, nor does he ever fall short on teasing you for it, poking at you and asking if it makes you jealous.
“Aw, come on, don’t be mad. You know I only have eyes for you,” he would frequently say, nudging your shoulder as he’d flash his signature mischievous grin. Of course, it never fails to make you smile, nor does it fail to spike your heart rate, although the latter is something you choose to address later at night with the rest of the confusing feelings.
Watanabe Haruto fascinates you, and despite you taking care to remember even the most trivial things about him, you somehow never realize just how genuinely he means that last sentence.
The sound of Haruto nearly stumbling on a crack in the road snaps you out of your thoughts. You whip your head towards him instantly, laughing at the sight of his one arm spread out for balance, the other linked with yours as his shoes jaggedly scrape against the pavement. You flush when you become aware of just how close you are to your destination, realizing that you’d been zoning out watching him. You’re well aware that it’s starting to become a problem—by now you’ve figured out that you very clearly harbor a crush on him, but lately you’ve been doubting yourself far too much, wondering whether it even is a good idea to confess and how you would do it if so. For now, you push these repeated questions aside to assist your friend so you don’t fall into another pensive spiral.
“Come on,” you tease, “you can do better than this, Ruto.”
“Hey! I wouldn’t be tripping over the road if you didn’t have me blindfolded in the first place,” Haruto insists with a frown.
“Just a little bit longer, I promise.”
A noise of frustration leaves Haruto’s throat, but you know he’s resigning in how he doesn’t complain any further. You squeeze his arm lightly to reassure him, knowing he’ll be patient for as long as you ask him to be but still not wanting to leave him in anticipation for too long.
“Be honest,” he calls out after a few moments of silence, “you first started talking to me because you felt bad for me, right?”
Your steps falter at the sudden question, your arms drooping in the slightest as you feel a pang in your chest from the hesitance of his tone. Still, you know that he deserves the most honest answer from you.
“I mean, part of me definitely felt that way, but I wouldn’t say it was the only reason. There was curiosity, anger, charm—I don’t know, I just don’t think there was one solid motive.”
“Anger?” Haruto questions, and you laugh a little as you feel his elbow nudge you.
“Not at you, obviously. I meant that I didn’t like everyone else ignoring you for being new when you weren’t so different from them after all. I didn’t want to treat you like that just from a first glance, so I decided to get to know you.” Haruto hums in response, and you resume walking, leading him carefully along the sidewalk.
“Wait, charm? Do you find me attractive?” He teases, lips stretched out into a playful grin. You immediately break into a series of jumbled protests, leaving your friend chuckling. You’re thankful that he can’t see your flustered features, which he normally would have incessantly teased you for.
“The point is,” you splutter, desperately trying to avoid the question, “you were never a pity friend to me.” You’re thankful Haruto doesn’t pry further, only nodding and leaning just a little bit into you. It’s then that you feel his slightly tensed shoulders, noticing the way his breath shakes when he inhales, and you realize that he’s insecure.
“Ruto?”
“Hmm?”
“You know that I never regretted it, right? Talking to you was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.”
“Me too,” Haruto whispers quietly. You’re taken aback by his words for a moment, as he’s normally not one to verbalize his feelings in such situations. Still, you smile.
“Good, then there’s no reason to be insecure, okay? I like spending time with you, and I like doing things together like this.” You rest your head against his shoulder as you say this, continuing to guide him through the streets. Suddenly, Haruto stops walking, reaching up to tug the blindfold off his eyes. You gasp at the ease of his motion.
“I thought I tied it better than that!”
“Fuck the blindfold. Let me guide you now,” he insists playfully as he steps behind you. “Come on, arms around my neck,” he instructs as he wraps an arm around your waist and tucks the other under your knees. Realizing what he’s about to do, you instantly shake your head, protesting as he begins lifting you up.
“You’ll drop me!” You joke, but Haruto only grins as he fully gathers you in his arms, and you throw your arms around his neck on instinct.
“Just tell me where to go, okay?”
“It’s not supposed to go this way!” You huff. “I should be the one taking you there, not vice versa.”
“Hey, it’ll still be a surprise! I don’t know this area that well anyways, I’ve only been here like twice.”
You sigh, about to protest again, but your train of thought momentarily freezes as you realize Haruto’s approaching the park you wanted to take him to. Haruto appears unaware of the location, however, and you look up at him expectantly. You realize from the shift in his eyes that he’s distracted and a little bit nervous. He stops in the middle of the grass, turning his head to look at you.
“I have to tell you something,” he blurts out, before you can even ask what he’s thinking of. He looks down at you, waiting for your acknowledgement. When you give it, he takes a deep breath. “I’m not going back to Japan this summer.”
Your eyes widen instantly. “How come? Did something go wrong?”
“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” Haruto shakes his head fervently. “I just—god, I don’t know how to say this.”
“Go on,” you prompt, finding it adorable how his ears begin to turn red as they always do when he’s nervous.
“You, this place—it’s become like my second home.” He says it with a touch of embarrassment but sincerity, gaining confidence with his next words. “I’ll still visit Japan, and I’ll probably still miss it. But whenever I did get homesick you helped me so much with it that I realized I want to stay here longer, that it’s worth it.” By now he’s leaning closer towards your face, eyes directly pinned on yours.
“I’m your second home?” You can’t stop the smile pulling at your lips, laughing with amazement. “I’ll make your stay worth it, I promise. Oh my god, you’re amazing.” Haruto blushes but doesn’t avert his eyes, and he’s close enough to you that out of a sheer burst of happiness you lean up and plant a kiss onto his cheek. His skin is surprisingly warm despite the low temperatures, and the heat spreads to your own face. Haruto is frozen when you look at him, and for a moment he simply gapes at you, his eyes slightly dazed. “Fuck,” you curse. “I shouldn’t have done that, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m so sorry Ruto—.”
“Y/N,” Haruto cuts you off, instantly blocking your stream of words. “Shut up for a second.” He secures his grip on your lower back, lifting you higher in his arms so your breaths mingle. You only process what he’s about to do when he leans in enough for your noses to touch, your heart pounding with exhilaration. Your eyes fall shut, and Haruto takes it as a signal to connect his lips with yours. The kiss is soft, sweet, and you tighten your arms around his neck so you can match his lips. Haruto pulls away gently, but his lips still lightly graze your own as he whispers, “I like you.”
Your breath hitches in your throat. “What?” The word spills from your mouth faster than your brain can keep up, and you can feel your ears burning. “You’re kidding,” you add, although you know that Haruto isn’t one to joke in such situations. You knew there was a chance of him liking you back, but hearing the confirmation of it leaves you completely shocked.
“It’s about time I reciprocated the feeling, no?” He smiles at the way your eyes widen when you process his words. You can’t help but stare at him in stunned silence for a moment before you find your tongue.
“Reciprocated? You know?”
“That you like me? I’m not stupid, you know. It just took me a little longer to realize that I felt the same.” Haruto says the last part gently, turning away in the hopes that you’ll miss the pretty blush spreading over his cheeks, although he’s just a little too late. Haruto straightens so that he’s no longer face-to-face with you, desperately avoiding your gaze.
“No fucking way,” you breathe. WIth a burst of confidence, you use your grip around his neck to pull his face back down to yours. However, with Haruto still carrying you bridal-style, your combined weights causes him to stumble over his feet. You crash to the grass, screeching as you realize Haruto is about to land directly on top of you. Thankfully, he manages to plant his hands on either side of you, catching himself before that can happen.
“My god, you always had shit balance,” is the first thing you can think to say.
“Well maybe let me know the next time you pray on my downfall!” Haruto grumbles.
“You idiot, I was trying to kiss you!”
“Oh.”
You snicker at the innocence in the word, and Haruto laughs sheepishly. However, the expression on his face quickly switches to something more intimate, and as he lowers himself to his elbows you’re suddenly aware of the proximity of his body to yours. It’s like you’ve read each others’ minds, for the moment you hold his face in your hands he’s already diving in to kiss you again. When you separate from Haruto, met with his pure, fond gaze upon you, you feel as though the blurry-lens confusion has finally come into focus.
“You know, Ruto, I never answered your question before. I do find you attractive—I always have, and I don’t just mean your face. I love the way you get nervous, but also how expressive you are when you’re passionate. I love that you’ll always talk to me even if it’s four in the morning, I love eating sushi with you, and I love it so much when you sing. I’m not trying to steal your phrase or anything, but for this past year, I really have only had eyes for you. And it seems like I’ve already made this obvious, but I really really like you, Watanabe Haruto.”
The post-embarrassment from your words is all worth it when you see Haruto break out into a huge smile despite him being a flushed mess. There’s a glimmer in his eyes again, one so beautiful that you think even the sun couldn’t dream of rivaling it.
“I have a suggestion,” he voices, and you smile encouragingly. The affection in his face shifts to a smug grin. “When I win my next relay race, you could say something other than ‘that’s my best friend.’”
You smirk, immediately knowing what he’s getting at. “Like boyfriend?”
Despite him being the one to hint at it, Haruto nearly chokes at the directness of your words. Still, he doesn’t oppose it, a hint of longing in his eyes. “I mean yeah, only—only if it’s okay with you.”
“Hmm,” you feign a thoughtful expression, and Haruto whines at your teasing. You giggle, giving in. “That would have a nice ring to it.”
“You think?” The genuine hope in Haruto’s tone makes you melt, and you nod immediately. Haruto beams at you like you’ve just given him the world, and you quickly place your hands on his shoulders, unsure if you’ll be able to stand anymore of it.
“Come on, walk around the park with me,” you urge, gently nudging him off you. Haruto obediently stands up from the grass, pulling you up with him. Finally, he takes a moment to process his surroundings, his eyes scanning the park with apprehension. The sky has darkened, but the streetlights illuminate the area just enough for him to recognize it as his mouth parts in a little gasp.
“No way, it’s the park we did the portfolio at! How long ago was that, like a year?”
“A year,” you affirm, finding it adorable the way Haruto wistfully observes the park. “It feels like it’s been forever, right?” A mumbled agreement barely leaves Haruto’s lips before he’s grabbing your hand to drag you around the area, his excitement comparable to that of a little child.
And somehow, things feel exactly the same as they always had between the two of you. Haruto still clumsily climbs the tree and he still nearly breaks his leg falling off it. You still laugh and poke fun at him the whole time. (The only difference, really, is that he openly calls you beautiful this time.)
Eventually, the two of you slow down to more lazy steps as you continue along the path surrounding the park. Haruto’s arm is casually circled around your waist, his gaze locked on you as he listens to you ramble. He’s so focused on you that he almost trips over the sidewalk again, to which you wonder whether he’ll look away from you at all.
“The stars are really pretty,” you test, jutting your head towards the space behind Haruto.
“Yeah, they are,” comes Haruto’s response, his eyes completely fixed on yours, and you raise your eyebrows.
“There’s like, barely two stars out right now. You didn’t even look over there,” you point out, the amused smile on your lips giving away that you’re not actually offended.
“Sorry,” Haruto chuckles, his eyes glimmering and tone softening with his next words, “you know I only have eyes for you.”