It's Taki who sends the first letter, because Hiyoshi is just the kind of person who neither remembers nor bothers with such things. And truthfully, Hyotei High is not so very far from Hyotei Middle, and if Taki really wanted to, he could easily drop by after school. But it's much more fun to send letters, he thinks. Once a week, he writes on Wednesday, sends on Thursday, and it arrives in all its glory Friday morning. Sometimes Hiyoshi responds, sometimes he doesn't, but dutifully, every week, Taki will send a letter.

The letters are usually filled with school gossip, even though Taki will almost always drop by sometime during the weekend and repeat whatever he'd written anyway. Hiyoshi will never admit it, but he likes looking at the compact characters against pristine white paper, each stroke clean without a smudge. They sit in a small wooden box underneath his bed, to be taken out during times of solitude.

One Friday morning, Hiyoshi doesn't receive a letter, and then his legs are carrying him, carrying him onto the bus, past houses and apartment buildings, finally stopping him in front of Taki's dorm room. The thought of school has flown from his mind, though some part of his mind berates him for his action anyway. His fingers fumble with the key the older boy had given him early in the year, the metal barely dull from lack of use; he'd never had the need for it until now.

Taki is inside, sleeping soundly on his desk with textbooks scattered about him. A single sheet of paper is under his fist, pristine white but for the growing ink blot of the uncapped pen. Hiyoshi sighs and scolds himself for being foolish, but before he turns to go, he gently kisses the top of Taki's head and removes the pen from Taki's hand.

Get more sleep. -Hiyoshi

10:47 in the morning, Taki wakes to find a sheet of paper, pristine white but for the note scrawled across the middle.

The End

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