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Sabo didn’t remember the exact moment he fell in love, but he knows when he realizes it. He knows because he writes a letter to her. He’s sweaty and bandaged up from training— because she can kick his butt in a heartbeat— but despite that, he dips his pen into ink and he writes. It feels right. Of course, he doesn’t send it. The Revolutionary Army is at war with the entire world and revealing his feelings would just complicate things. They all need to focus on their goal (which is still a ways off) and this would only distract them. That’s why he needs to write. If he writes all his feelings down on paper, then he won’t stew on them.
Maybe the time would be right some day.
He feels a presence close to his shoulder and he quickly moves his elbow over the unfinished letter.
“What are you doing?” Koala asks. One of her eyebrows is raised, a clear indication of her suspicion. Sabo expects it. He hadn’t exactly been subtle about hiding the letter.
“It’s nothing!” he insists, silently hoping that he doesn’t smear the ink.
“Uh okay?” She stares at Sabo for what feels like forever— and he swears that she leans in to stare even closer— but then she backs away and giggles.
“Hey,” Sabo grumbles quietly. It’s the best-friend-giving-you-shit kind of laughter, so he doesn’t quite feel the need to rain on her parade.
“I’m just curious that’s all. I promise I won’t look.” She makes her way over to her bed on the opposite side of the room and sits down, kicking her legs back and forth.
Sabo hates hiding things from her. They tell each other everything, but this was one thing that he couldn’t share with her. A lie bubbles up to his lips. “I’m… journaling.”
“Oh?” The curiosity still shines brightly in her round eyes.
“Yeah.” It isn’t a complete lie. He’s been writing a record of his days, but his actual journal is stuffed inside his desk drawer. He already wrote about today. “I don’t want to forget anything, you know.”
“Oh.” They’re both quiet for a moment, but Koala doesn’t offer excuses or pitying words. He’s glad for it. She never looks down on him like some of the older members. “I think that’s pretty cool.”
“Really?”
“Mm hm.” Koala hums. She stands back up and heads to her own desk, pulling out some paper. “I’ll join you then!”
“Really?” Sabo can’t help smiling.
“Yep! Now hush. I’m journaling now.”
The atmosphere between them is peaceful and comfortable. Sabo writes his letter and Koala starts her new journal. Sabo knows it’s impolite to ask what she’s writing about, but he loves the sound of pens scratching against paper. Together, their pens fall into a rhythm, a duet that fills the room and settles into his heart.
Eventually, this will become a daily tradition for them, but for now, Sabo writes his letter:
Dear Koala,
I think I love you.