Please donโt read this if youโre not Hakuba Saguru.
It was almost a travesty that Saguru didnโt like sweets, but Kaito could understand; when somebody was already as sweet as Saguru, they didnโt need any more of the same.
So instead, at noon sharp, there was a vase sitting innocently enough on Saguruโs desk. It was empty, but wouldnโt stay that way for long. Every six minutes, on exact second according to Saguruโs pocketwatch, another rose would slowly unfurl and bloom within the glass. One hour; sixty minutes; elevenย roses.
The first was peach, then yellow. Orange was followed by light pink, then dark pink, then a color in between. Dark red was next, then coral, and the ninth was burgundy.
The last two, however, bloomed together, stems intertwining long before the roses bloomed black and white. Kuroย and Haku. Kaito and Saguru.
At one oโ clock, the last of them blossomed, and none else appeared within the vase; however, it was not the end of the Valentineโs gift. At one fourty-three exactly, an envelope appeared next to the vase, unaddressed but obvious as to both the sender and the recipient.
A small bulge in the envelope was to be a keychain, one half of a black heart. A picture was included as well, of the other half of the heart hanging from a certain thiefโs neck as a necklace, laying extremely close to where his real heart beats.
And of course, there was a card. Several cards. A small pile of words, written on the same cardstock that Kaito often used for his heist letters, except this time none of them were adorned with the usual KID insignia, each one hand written.
Iย I love youย Thereโs nothing that Everyone expects me to be eloquent, but I donโt know what to say to you that I already havenโt. Youโve loved chased me for so long, both literally and figuratively, and it took me years - and an island full of more impossible things - to realize it. Even worse, it took me that long to love you back stop running.
There are no words that can describe how much I loveย adore appreciate you. Thereโs nobody quite like y If I could give you a rose for every moment of our lives that I want to spend with you, I donโt think that this island, or our universe, or even all of the existing multiverses would have enough roses to give.
No matter how much I run anymore, Iโm thrilled enamored honored to know that youโll be chasing after me, and when I stop running, youโll be there I can always come back to you. Youโre my rock Youโre like my guide
Youโre a little bit like home.
Some things are as easy to say as they are hard to say. Theyโre true, but they donโt seem like theyโre enough, or itโs the wrong time, and they donโt just sound right. But even if I canโt say them, Iโll be sure to mean them. No, Iโll be sure that I mean more than they ever will. So I suppose I can say it this once, if youโre able to tell that they hardly mean as much as I want to convey.
