Unnoticeable Things

Part One

They were simple, unnoticeable things at first. A lingering brush of his fingers on yours as he handed you spices, his hand molding against your own when he tried to show you a better technique at using the pestle; all simple, small things. Even when, as you struggled to return newly washed dishes to their place, he had stepped close behind you and completed the task with his chest pressed to your back, you hadn't noticed. The close proximity had never bothered you; it was a lingering sentiment of the years you had shared alongside Jun, watching – and to a certain extent, helping – Akira grow into the teenager he had become.

A previous student of Jun Shiomi, you had decided to assist in her seminar straight after graduating. You had never been extremely skilled in the culinary arts – it had been a miracle that you even passed the classes, much less graduate – but you made up for your lack in the innate talent so many other students possessed with sheer determination, studying for hours on end in order to brand the topics into your brain. Joining Jun's seminar was almost automatic; her cheery disposition and passionate teaching of spices were endearing to you, and as soon as you had finished the graduation ceremony you had approached her. Two years of being an assistant passed before she left with a temporary farewell, embarking on a journey to foreign lands for their spices. You stayed behind, watching over the spices she had already been cultivating, but when she returned she had not been alone.

Akira Hayama. That was the name that had been given to the boy Jun had saved from the slums. His presence, although shocking, was not unwelcome, and you had smiled at him brightly when Jun introduced him. Despite being new to his surroundings, he adapted extremely quickly and soon he was alongside you, assisting Jun in her theories and experiments. A few years passed in succession, and by the time he was enrolling in middle school, he had already begun correcting some of your mistakes.

It seemed like you only blinked, but somehow the little boy you first met had transformed into the stunning young man who stood before you now, fist raised in the air amidst fanfare as his name was announced; Akira Hayama, the champion of the Autumn Elections. You had felt a fluttering in your stomach when you saw him then, the sweat running down his forehead as the stadium chanted his name. It was strange, how his face seemed so mature, so handsome, than you had ever remembered. Of course, you had never experienced these feelings when it came to Akira, so you chalked it up to getting caught up in the atmosphere.

It wasn't until you met Yukihara and Kurokiba for the first time in the next few days, that it was brought to your attention.