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For today, just for today, Tomoko was going to wear her blue dress.

Perhaps it didn't really matter, she thought, as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. The dress's shade was a blue so deep and rich it was almost black on certain angles, yet it still felt so foreign on her skin. It was a far cry from her usual selection of clothes, which was her thought when she opened this gift from Miu. She thought she wouldn't really be wearing it anytime soon.

Tomoko thought wrong.

The doorbell rang.

She hadn't even worn her headdress yet.

But there wasn't time for that - it usually took her fifteen minutes to find the perfect spot at the side of her head for it - and she really didn't want Ryusei to wait. So Tomoko did another unexpected feat, and brushed her hair and left it free of any adornments.

She rushed to the door. Smoothing her dress and calming her suddenly-frazzled nerves, Tomoko opened the door and smiled.

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She did not know how long Ryusei had stood out here, taking deep breaths. Or— It was Tomoko, maybe she did.

It had been a terrible afternoon nonetheless. In the mirror, as he'd fiddled with his tie, his hands had started shaking, and he'd pulled out his phone and had been halfway to calling Jirou before he snapped the phone shut. He'd sworn Jirou to secrecy on the grounds that Jirou not ask for details, and if he called him Jirou would just say things carefully in that way of his that made Ryusei cut short all conversation within a few minutes. It was terrible, to have a friend with whom one confided in everything. Except this.

"Tomoko-chan," he said, smiling in return. He wanted to crawl out of his skin. Split himself into two. Then this conversation wouldn't have to exist.

"... You look great." He stuffed his hands into his pockets. "... Ready?" Maybe she'd take his nervousness for the fact that this was the most overt he'd ever gotten in their relationship. He'd even called it a date when he'd asked her out tonight. But that made it even worse. He'd have to hide the nervousness as best he could—as well as one could hide anything from Tomoko—because the last thing he wanted was for her to spend this... last ...night worrying about him or what he was hiding. Relax. Relax relax relax.

The fact was, her nerves were probably keeping her from noticing his. It was silly, feeling nervous around him now, for Tomoko almost never did in all the years they've known each other. Maybe it was the fact that he called it a 'date' that had her on the edge. The two of them had yet to discuss the status of their relationship and Tomoko was comfortable that way, when neither of them were putting labels on a friendship that wasn't really friendship per se. It was an odd sort of thing and Tomoko liked it better that way.

Of course, not all things stayed in the realms of the comfortable, and Tomoko had grown and experienced enough to understand it.

Tomoko grabbed his wrist. "...wait, Ryusei-san--" She bit her lip, then reached upwards towards his tie. "It's crooked." She remembered long ago, back in Amanogawa, that she was also the one who fixed his tie when she and the others forced Ryusei to go to Miu and Shun's prom. It seemed some things never changed, then.

"I don't think anyone would mind," he said, as he stood still for her. It was funny how the weirdest things could relax a person, but his hands had stopped shaking. Maybe he could get through this after all.

"—Your hair." She was standing close enough that he noticed. It didn't make much of a difference to how she looked, but it was probably significant that it was the first time he'd seen her without it. He'd like to think it was significant. "It's a good look."

"I would," she said lightly, though he probably knew that already. She did obsess over the smallest, weirdest things a lot of times.

At the mention of her hair, though, Tomoko instantly felt self-conscious enough to take a step away from him. "...is it?" she asked, hand moving up to the spot a headdress often occupied. "But I feel so--" naked, she wanted to say, but stopped herself in time. Tomoko ended her sentence with a whispered: "--different."

Ryusei reached to take that hand. "It's just me," he said. "And even if it's different, it's...still you."

Was that cheesy or what? Ryusei was long past the age where he should say such a thing. He meant it, though. Actually, maybe he shouldn't have commented on the ribbon (lack thereof) to begin with, but the alternative was to comment on the dress, and he knew enough about his friends that he could guess that the choice was influenced by Miu. Come to think of it, maybe the choice not to wear a hair piece was influenced by Miu, too.

In that case, he should probably start checking corners and bushes for any eavesdroppers. Heh. Smiling, he pulled her gently by the hand he still held. "Shall we go?"

It was dangerous to hold her hand; he'd have to let go soon, just in case. Not right now, though.

She stared at their hands and belatedly realized that he was waiting for her to say something. "...Mm."

Now, though, her heart was beating doubly fast and loud she wondered if he could hear it. Such a silly thought, though Tomoko attributed it to a short story she was writing for class. She was at the part where the wolves were about to devour a young blind girl lost in the woods when Ryusei called that afternoon. Suddenly she had a deeper understanding of how the girl felt, about dreading what was to come yet not knowing any of it.

Of course, the difference being that she could ask. "Where are we going?"

He let go and stuffed his hand back into his pocket again. "The Dancing Glass. I made reservations."

It was fancy and not famous; a more famous place wouldn't be taking reservations on such short notice (he'd tried). Had he not told her? Well, he'd at least been together enough to tell her to wear something dressy. If he hadn't, he might have had to ask her to change, something he knew he probably couldn't have done. That was...too embarrassing. Too intimate.

Too invasive, too. Maybe it might have been different if he'd had more time. More courage. ... There went the shaking again. He should have taken something before coming over. No, that would have been a terrible idea and he knew it. Anyway, he didn't have anything like that, so he would've had to ask Jirou, and Jirou would've gotten worried about it and he wouldn't have wanted to tell Jirou that it was for a date, partly because Jirou would've affirmed that it was a terrible idea.

He needed to stop lingering on that. Those. Because if nothing else, he needed to concentrate on driving tonight. "We're taking the motorcycle, I hope you don't mind...?"

Tomoko quickly shook her head. "No, of course not." Thankfully she brought a brush in her bag, and anyway she was far from being like the girls who were too vain and mindful of their looks to dislike riding motorcycles. Besides, she loved riding on Ryusei's during the times he's offered to take her anywhere on it.

The Dancing Glass, though? She shot Ryusei a curious look, though just as quick she averted her gaze. She'd heard about it from Miu and Shun a couple of times though she'd never visited it, and now--

She swallowed. Was now the perfect time to ask why he was doing all of this? Tonight wasn't a special night. It wasn't their birthdays either. But he asked her out and called it a date and told her to wear something dressy and... well, he'd never done that before.

A part of her didn't want to ask. A part of her just want to let things happen. And a part of her realized that she really didn't know how to behave in situations like this one. "I've... always wondered what it looked like," she said, just to make small talk. "Miu-sempai seemed to like it enough, from what I can remember. Isn't it where Shun-sempai proposed to her for the second time?"

Was it? ... He knew he'd heard of the place before. This was bad. Quickly, say something. "—Was that the place?" he managed with a embarrassed half-smile. "That's... That's nice...."

Smooth. Ugh.... He couldn't just deflect this question; it'd make it seem like he really was imitating Shun. "That's their favorite, I suppose. They recommended it when I asked...."

No, that wasn't sufficient, either. He lapsed into silence. Think it through from the beginning. To begin with, this was weird, wasn't it? He hadn't told her anything. He'd sprung this on her out of nowhere. All of the other times they'd gone somewhere together had been casual affairs, or at the very least, not...formal. Ryusei had made it formal, and had changed the way they'd gone about things; naturally, she wanted to know what was going on.

He didn't want to lie. He didn't want her expectations to be...that, either. "I..." He trailed off. "This is nice, too, isn't it?" he tried again. "From time to time. You know how JK gets, with all the teasing...."

Hopefully that would be enough to imply it was a formal date only and nothing more.

The funny thing was, Tomoko hadn't intended to form any associations between theirs and Miu's situation. In her mind, those were two completely separate things and she was in no way expecting that Ryusei would be repeating Shun's gesture of love for Miu - far from it. Which was why she was quite surprised to notice that Ryusei seemed flustered by the topic.

"Mm, this is very nice, Ryusei-san." Tomoko tucked in an errant strand of hair behind one ear. To be honest, she did like dressing up for him, and was delighted that he seemed to approve of her. Not that he never did, but hearing his compliment was definitely something she cherished. "I-- I haven't been to a date before, and I--" Her cheeks flamed, and quickly she looked anywhere but at him. "--I'm glad I'll get to share my first time with you."

Would it be the first of many? Tomoko hoped so.

He couldn't respond to that. It would be giving himself too much away if he suggested that they think of their previous excursions as 'dates.' "... Me too," he said finally.

And here was the motorbike to save him from having to say anything more. "Here." He picked up the helmets and handed her one. "It'll just be a short ride." He attempted a smile. "Like old times."

He then quickly turned away so she wouldn't see him wince. Why had he said that? He was making too many mistakes. It was always like that; he was always losing his cool around her. Maybe not in the ways people would notice, but even an idiot would notice if too many mistakes piled up. Until now, he'd never thought of them as 'mistakes,' either. He needed a better word. But why bother, at this stage? "Sorry," he said quietly as he turned back around. "I'm...nervous."

Tomoko accepted the helmet and nodded her appreciation - though now that her nerves were calming down after her quick admission, she was becoming more aware that something was nagging at her senses - that something was telling her there were small things that were wrong in this situation. While she merely seemed frazzled and nerve-wracked, he, on the other hand, seemed... sad, despite his words. Why would he be sad, though? Was there any reason to be sad?

She stepped closer to him, and tentatively laid a hand on his. "...Ryusei-san, are you all right?" If he wasn't, then it'd be more than all right if they were to postpone this... date of theirs. It would only be right, she thought, to think of him before anything else.

"Of course." He pulled away and put his helmet on and swung his leg over the bike. "W-Why wouldn't I be?" he added in a joking manner.

It was an interesting conundrum, wasn't it—he didn't want to lie but if he wanted to maintain this charade for at least a little while longer, lying was a necessity. Not to speak of what Tomoko would think when she eventually found out he'd been lying all night. He could say it right now and let her decide whether or not to pretend this was a normal date, but that option was dependent on Ryusei's ability to say it.

He couldn't; it meant having to face the truth himself.

"Ready?" He turned around to look at her.

For several moments Tomoko didn't know what to do with herself. She stood there, hands full with the helmet she held. Now that she was aware there was something wrong, it felt as though there was no way for her to ignore these feelings - and the more he denied it, the more she worried why.

She didn't say anything else, but she did place the helmet on her head and slowly climbed behind him on the bike. Riding like this meant she had to wrap her arms around his torso and she did, but now there were a lot of awkward thoughts attached to such a simple act. Tomoko sat closer to him so she could get a secure grip, then laid her head on his back.

"Ready," she said.

"Sorry," he muttered to her. "Please humor me for a little while longer."

He started the engine and eased the bike into traffic.

The ride was without incident. Soon, though, Tomoko noticed that they were cruising on an unfamiliar road, and she looked around them, careful not to loosen her grip. The wind was fierce and cold on her skin, and she wished she brought a jacket or at least a shawl, but there was no time to get one before Ryusei arrived on her doorstep. Silently, she wished the restaurant had a fireplace and that it was warm.

Please humor me a little while longer.

Her instincts were right, then.

She bit her lip, tried to ignore the worry gnawing at her insides, and focused on the scenery as they passed them by.

He'd had the duration of the bike ride to cool his head; by the time they arrived, Ryusei felt almost normal. He found someplace to park not a block away, and as he got off, he pointed out the restaurant. "It's over there."

The frosted glassfront made it hard to spot at first, especially since the store next to it was a jewelry store. The front door was set back a bit from the street, too, but Ryusei thought it gave the place a bit of charm. "It's a little unassuming, but I've heard good things. Well...we all have, from our sempai...." he added, with an embarrassed smile.

"The frosted glass was specially made by the first owner's grandfather some years ago," he said. "Originally, it was a glass shop, but when they were converting it to a restaurant, the original owner made a special request that—" Stop talking. "Uh." He cleared his throat, stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Well. Shall we go?"

"How beautiful!" Tomoko said, smiling as she stared at the restaurant. It was definitely charming, she thought, as it was lit with dozens of bulbs set into candles - from afar it seemed as though real candles were used to illuminate the path leading towards the door. She turned her attention to Ryusei, and felt a bit disappointed that he had stopped telling her about the background of the store.

"Why did they convert it to a restaurant?" She was truly curious, though, especially since now that Ryusei mentioned it, it did look ,ore like a glass shop than a restaurant.

Edited 2012-12-10 02:27 (UTC)

"Money problems, or so I've heard." Tentatively, as they walked to it, he took Tomoko's hand. "This is just a rumor, but it seems like one of the children was a bit of a slob. And none of the children wanted to get into the business and one of them was a chef, I suppose."

That was not a romantic story at all. Way to set the mood. There was a romantic story attached to this place, but he'd forgotten how it went; he'd continued reading the facts and rumors solely out of nerves and his eyes had skipped right over the bits that sounded like fiction. He should have known better, but it was too late to go look it up now.

Inside, there were only two tables that were placed near the glass, and Ryusei had snagged one. It was a bit dangerous, if he thought about it—if something happened to the glass, shattering it inwards, that table was the most dangerous place to sit. But... This once, he'd let aesthetic override safety. He gave his name to the waiting employee; that confirmed, he pulled out the chair with the better view of the glass for Tomoko.

She liked holding his hand. He rarely did, before - it had seemed so, well, obvious and they were anything but. There was also the fact that JK and Yuuki seemed to take great delight in embarrassing Ryusei and Tomoko whenever they could - which, of course, became all the time.

But JK and Yuuki weren't here now, so Tomoko supposed it was all right.

She appreciated that he chose this spot for them, for her. Tomoko bowed at him before taking her seat. The view truly was spectacular; the glass art was anything but common and ordinary, and it felt as though the longer one stared at it, the more intricate details seemed to pop out. "Ryusei-san, this is--" It was breathtaking, but it seemed Tomoko had no words for it right now. Then worry for other things and practicality took over. "But isn't this too much?"

"What do you mean?"

It wasn't too fancy a place, was it? He would have asked JK or Yuuki, but didn't want to have to go through the hassle of their teasing. And by the time he'd made plans, it'd been too late, anyway. His flight left at 2AM. He should have done something sooner, but all week he'd been trying to distance himself from all of them. It hadn't worked; he should have known it wouldn't, but there were things that never seemed logical or reasonable when he was the one who had to do them.

"Is there anything I can do, make you more comfortable?" he continued. Should he imply he knew someone here, who owed him a favor? No, he didn't want to lie. It wouldn't have been a lie to say that he'd do anything for her right now, but he...couldn't say that. Not right now. Maybe one day, when she couldn't ask him not to leave.

She shook her head fervently, then instinctively curled her palms together and drew them under her chin. Tomoko stared at the folded tablecloth in front of her. "I'm fine." More than fine, really. "It's just--" Here, she glanced at him, then took a deep breath.

"It's not your birthday nor mine. We're not celebrating anything." It wasn't the anniversary of their first meeting or their first unofficial date or the day he met her mother. To her, it was just an ordinary day made extraordinary by him asking to take her out for a fancy dinner. But that and the fact that her intuition was practically screaming at her, well...

"Ryusei-san, I would like to know if--" Pause. She knew she should humor him a bit longer, but even her patience had limits and she wasn't liking what she was feeling. "Is there something I should know?"

And there it was. He couldn't delay it any longer, it seemed. "We're not.... It's not...a celebration," he said slowly. He looked down at his lap, where his hands had balled into fists.

Would she leave right now, upon hearing the news? He'd hoped they could go a little longer like this. For a moment there, it had almost seemed normal. Would there have been more 'moments' if he'd done something sooner? ... He couldn't think about that right now.

"I..." Now, the present. Concentrate on the now. "I have to...."

How could he concentrate on the now when he had to give it up for the future? He could say right now that he wanted to give her the bracelet sitting in his pocket tonight, and stay here deliberately overlong so as to miss his flight. He could do that. There were other chances. It wasn't like he was going to die—

Unfortunately he knew full well that that argument could cut both ways. "... I have to leave," he said softly.

"...Eh?"

That was the only thing she could say as she stared at him. Leave? Him? Why? Where was he going? When was he leaving? Why? Why? Why?

Was Meteor needed somewhere else? Her mind automatically jumped at that possibility. Some of the Kamen Riders must have, could have been wanderers, going where the people needed them and their powers. Maybe Ryusei had gotten word that some other place was in trouble and he was needed there.

But why him? Why not Gentarou? It was an unkind thought - Gentarou pretty much had shaped his whole life here, though Tomoko supposed he could go anywhere and shape his life there. Gentarou could do it. Gentarou should be the one to leave if a Kamen Rider was needed. Not him. Not Ryusei.

She rested her chin on her curled palms and seemed to shrink away from him. "I-- I see." No, no she didn't - but what else was she supposed to say?

Except: "Why?"

"I have to. I need to go or they'll consider me compromised. I won't be allowed anywhere near their organization ever again." He said it mechanically, without looking up.

"I won't be allowed to make contact. Even after I finish, I might not be allowed to make contact. It might be years, they said, depending on how I do. It's their rule. I'm only allowed to bring a carry-on. I can't disclose when I'm going, or what my flight number is. I can't bring anyone with me to the airport. I can't have anyone drive me. I've already done the preliminaries. If I don't go now, they'll have to...."

He slowed, and stopped altogether for breath, and then bit his lip so his juddery inhale wouldn't be noticed. "It's decided," he continued, in the same voice as before. "It can't be changed."

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