Pairing: Jo × Maki
Trope: Secret soft confession / crush reveal
Vibe: Pure fluff, shy gestures, and a little mischief

*****
I like you more than grape juice.
*****

Maki noticed it in the middle of practice.

The small juice box tucked neatly inside his bag. Same spot as always, same flavor — grape, his favorite.
He never packed it. It just... started showing up one day. Quietly.

At first, he assumed it was from the staff. Then maybe a prank.
But it happened every day, without fail. Even when they weren't on a tight schedule. Even on off-days.

And every time, it was always cold. Always neatly placed.
Always there when he needed it most.

He never asked. Not really.

Sometimes you didn't poke at good things — you just accepted them.

Until today.

Because today, scrawled across the bottom of the label in tiny black ink was:

🖤 have a good day ☀️

Maki blinked. Stared.
The ink was smudged like someone had written it quickly — maybe in a rush. Maybe with nerves.

He felt his ears go warm.

The next day, it happened again.

This time, the message was a little heart.

Drawn right on the foil. Tiny. Carefully done.

Maki stood there in the dance studio hallway, juice box in one hand, trying not to smile too hard.

Day Three was a betrayal.

In the best way.

He opened his bag and pulled out the usual grape juice box — except this time, the words were bigger. Bolder.

I like you more than grape juice.
— 🖤

Maki nearly dropped it.

He looked around the empty practice room like someone was about to jump out and yell "gotcha!"

But no one did.

Just the mirror reflecting his confused, flushed expression back at him.

Later that afternoon, Harua found him standing in front of his open locker, staring into space.

"You okay?" Harua asked, sipping his iced coffee.

Maki held up the juice box in silent accusation. "This is a love confession."

Harua blinked. "You sound offended."

"I'm not—! I just—grape juice is serious business. This is war."

Harua leaned forward, squinting at the label.
Then blinked again. Then shrugged.

"You weren't supposed to find out yet."

Maki's brain short-circuited. "...What?"

Harua just gave him a little smirk. "Don't ask me. Ask the person who steals an extra juice box every time they grocery run."

Maki's jaw dropped. "Wait—wait—it's Jo?!"

Harua tapped the top of his head. "You're cute, but you're slow."

Then walked off, completely unbothered.

That night, Maki tossed and turned in his bed.
He stared at the ceiling. Stared at his phone. Stared at the now-empty juice box sitting on his desk like it had ruined his life and made it better at the same time.

He liked Jo. Of course he did.

Everyone liked Jo. Jo was calm and soft-spoken and thoughtful in ways people didn't always notice.
He wasn't loud, but he always showed up. Quiet support. Gentle encouragement.

Juice box love notes, apparently.

Maki buried his face in his pillow. "This is so unfair."

The next day, Jo found a juice box in his bag.

Not grape — but orange.

A small heart on the corner of the label. And a message scrawled in slightly messy handwriting:

I like you too. Even more than orange juice.
— ☀️

Jo blinked.

He blinked again.

Then looked up.

Maki was already standing across the practice room, pretending to scroll through his phone like he hadn't just dropped an emotional nuclear bomb through citrus.

Jo walked over.

Maki looked up, trying not to panic. "Yes?"

Jo held up the juice box. "This yours?"

Maki shrugged, far too casual. "Could be."

Jo smiled — that soft, eye-crinkling, heart-melting kind.

"Orange juice is pretty high praise."

"You started it."

"I did."

There was a pause.

Then Jo quietly asked, "So... now what?"

Maki looked up at him, cheeks pink but eyes steady.

"We trade juice," he said. "Forever."

Jo laughed. "Deal."

Later That Night

Taki screamed when he opened the fridge and saw ten grape and orange juice boxes lined up with doodled hearts on all of them.

"WHY IS THIS A LOVE LANGUAGE."

From across the room, Harua shrugged. "Better than post-it notes."

EJ walked by. "Let them be cute in peace."

Taki: "I AM PEACELESS."

The End.
(But every day after that, the juice box messages kept coming. Some sweet. Some flirty. Some absolutely cursed.)