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“Mikan is in love with you,” says Kokichi, bluntly, and Kirumi doesn’t spill her pot of tea all over the table, but it is a close one.
Kaede sputters. “Kokichi! What are you —”
“I think Kirumi deserves to know.” Kokichi shrugs and reaches over to steal Shuichi’s drink. “I can’t keep lying to her face like this.”
“We weren’t even talking about Mikan,” Shuichi points out as he tries to bat off Kokichi’s grabby hands. “So it wasn’t like you were lying by omission.”
“Pardon me.” Kirumi places a glass of milk in front of Kokichi, who sticks out his tongue at her. “I don’t quite understand what you are telling me. Also, I’d appreciate it if you would please refrain from stealing others’ utensils.”
“I mean exactly what I said.” Kokichi reluctantly hands Shuichi back his fork and knife. “She’s always staring at you and blushing, or looking for some excuse to talk to you, and she always has to be checking up on you — ‘Oh, Kirumi, do you need a bandage on that?’ ‘Kirumi, do you want an ice pack?’ ‘Kirumi, please take me right here and now on the spotless dining table!’” He snickers, and Kaede flicks him.
“Don’t be vulgar. Some of us are eating here.”
Kirumi hopes that the way her hand is trembling very slightly is not noticeable. How unprofessional. “Mikan Tsumiki and I are friends.”
“And you never wanted to be anything more?” Kokichi turns his impish gaze on Kirumi, eyes wide with faux-innocence. “Even though you always sneak into the nurse’s office to restock the supplies when Mikan leaves? Even though, when you bake cookies, you always offer them to her first?”
Kirumi makes the wise decision to set down the teapot before the trembling becomes too obvious. Really, she thought she had more self-control than that. “I would do the same with the supplies for any Ultimate’s lab. And I am merely concerned that Mikan will be too timid to approach me and ask for any baked goods herself.”
“Mm-hm.” Kokichi cocks his head. “Then why are you blushing right now?”
Kirumi’s hands fly up to her cheeks. Indeed, they do feel slightly warmer than normal. “I—”
“Can I give you some advice? Don’t worry, I’ll whisper so these nosy kids won’t overhear.” Kokichi wiggles his eyebrows, and despite herself, Kirumi leans forward.
“What is it?”
“Are you sure you want to know?”
“...I suppose so,” Kirumi admits. Her heart rate is above average. She should really get that under control.
“Good.” Kokichi cups his hands around his mouth. “You’re perfect for her,” he whispers, and Kirumi’s breath hitches in her throat.
“W-why?”
Kokichi smiles, an evil tilt of his mouth. “She has mommy issues.”