Disclaimer: Magikano is not mine.


He smiles, and for a brief moment I wonder if its possible for a person to melt from sheer joy. Those dark eyes peer at me from behind his glasses, and I bask in the warmth of those twin orbs, the corners crinkling ever so slightly as he smiles at me again. Again!

I keep my finger firmly pressed on the capture button of my camera, not wishing to remove it lest I miss a single moment of this.

We were in the photography club's studio, after school. Everyone had long since gone home, Maika and Ayumi both screaming their goodbyes outside before turning on one another in a fit of predictable rage.

He turns this way and that, pouting a little one second, grinning widely the next as I move around him. He's really become accustomed to the whole process quickly. At first, I had to resort to the girls to get him to strike even the smallest pose, though now he seems to be comfortable with me alone.

All those lights he helped me set up made him glow a little now, highlighting his perfectly blemish-free skin. The smooth expanse of his back, the gentle curve of his leg as he lazily stretches it out before him, the other drawn up so his chin rested on his knee, his hands behind him with a playful half-grin upon his face-I make sure to capture everything with my camera.

He flexes awkwardly, in a cheesy attempt at a macho pose which I believe was meant to make me laugh.

I don't.

Instead, I keep my face the blank mask it always is, though the...something that flickers across his eyes for the shortest instant before vanishing into that radiant smile again doesn't escape me. I stop taking the pictures, long enough to adjust the thin red silk around his semi-nude form, offering him the smallest bit of modesty from the prying gaze of my camera.

For a brief moment, my fingers brush against his bare skin, its sheer warmth making me draw my hand away a little too quickly, regretting it as soon as it happened.

I continue taking pictures. He sighs, and for a moment I want nothing more than to throw myself at him, to feel those arms wrapped around me as I taste those infuriatingly tempting lips.

Yes, you heard me.

I have a crush on him. Haruo Yoshikawa. The most unlikely babe-magnet in the history of ever. "Hey..." he breaks the silence punctuated only by the clicking of my camera.

" Can we take a break? My leg is falling asleep..." he continues, rubbing the offending limb as if to make sure I get the point. Silently, I lower my equipment, and walk over to the small fridge in the corner. Grabbing a couple of drinks, I head over to the raised platform where he now stands, his back to me, stretching as he tries to get the blood flow back into his numb limbs.

It had been a simple request. Pose for a few pictures to be displayed in the school's art fair next Wednesday, and in return the Yoshikawa household would be excused from trash duty afterwards. Somehow, everyone seemed to agree when Ayumi suggested Haruo be the subject, mostly because they all wanted to see him shirtless, I'll bet.

I certainly wasn't going to complain, anyway. Still, I take a moment to admire his body from where I stand. He isn't muscular, though he's far from being skinny like me. His shoulderblades scissor behind him as he raises his arms, then pulls them tight before dropping them to his side with a small contented sigh.

He turns around, and I give a start as he beams me with another one of his glorious smiles. Ducking my head so the blush isn't too obvious, I pad over and hand him one of the cans, making sure to avoid any eye contact.

This was pure torture!

How can anyone look so damnedly adorable just by drinking a stupid can of green tea? He tries to talk to me, and as much as I want to reply, I don't.

I've never liked words.

Ever since I can remember, I've loved pictures instead. The lines, the colours. Everything about them just appealed to me, from the giant picture-books I learnt the alphabets with as a child to the stacks of art textbooks in my room now. I'm a visual person you see, which is why I decided to take up photography in the first place.

The rush I get, when I take a photo is just unbelieveable. No matter how a person may act in real life, one click and they become perfectly quiet, frozen for all time as their bodies speak instead of their lips. A hard look here, a dreamy smile there, arms and legs saying volumes just by being where ever they happen to be. It's beautiful to watch, which is why I love to take so many pictures.

Haruo still tries to valiantly make conversation with me. I look away, deciding to avoid his gaze by keeping my attention fixed on my camera. Dumbly, I rub on an imaginary spot on the camera lens, hoping he'd be done with the drink soon so we can finish, yet not wanting to go just yet.

I never realised when, exactly.

All I heard was the low swish of the silk wrapped around his body, before my chin was grabbed and turned around. All I saw were his eyes, those inky pools of black before I felt his lips on mine. It was the briefest kiss, warm and soft and so very sweet, and by the time I realised what he was doing he had pulled away, the blush staining his cheeks a deep rose. He looks at me, breathing harder now as the uncertainty creeps over his features. I allow the corner of my mouth to lift just the tinniest bit, before I raise the camera and aim.


A/N: Ta-daah! This is the first fic I have for this fandom, hope y'all enjoy! R&R,okay?