sagittariusly | for asteroidbelt

There were so many things she wanted to ask him. Could she write to him? Was he transferring to another country? Is Jirou going with him? How long would he be gone? Would he be here in time for his birthday, hers, Gentarou's? Would he be able to visit come graduation time?

But she couldn't.

She shivered in the cold air, and wrapped her arms around herself, concentrated on walking. On stepping forward. Tomoko couldn't see what was in front of her, for her eyes were focused on the ground. She knew her house were a bit far from here, so they were in for a long walk.

Tomoko didn't mind.

"I'm--" She took a deep breath. "Our class would be going to a trip soon. We'll be visiting the homes of some of the well-known writers in Japan." She didn't know why she was saying this, but then she remembered this was something she wanted to tell him. "Ryu--Ryusei-san, do you know that some of the writers have really odd quirks? I read that Nakamura often consumes live worms before he can sit to write anything."

Both his hands were on the bike's handlebars. If he wanted to take off his jacket, they'd have to stop and stand still, and Ryusei didn't think he could. Continuing to walk—mechanically placing one foot before the other—meant he could still stand.

"Is that so." He should speak up if he wanted her to hear him. "That's interesting."

This was wrong. What he was doing was wrong. He took a deep breath, tried to dispel the numbness. "I don't.... I hope you...don't have that kind of trouble. In the future. Or now." Or...whenever. "I'll be rooting for you."

"...Mm." She nodded, then brought her hands together in that familiar pose of hers. Point. Tomoko had a point, which was why she mentioned it, and it was coming back now--

"We're... we're allowed to bring someone with us and I was hoping-- I was going to ask you to--" come with me. But he couldn't anymore, could he? He'd be leaving soon and maybe when the date for the trip came he wouldn't be here anymore.

She swallowed, hard. Maybe... maybe it was a good thing, that he wouldn't be there for the trip. What was he going to do there, anyway? Of the two of them, the trip would only benefit Tomoko. It surely would bore him. She couldn't ask him to endure that for her. She couldn't ask him anything.

Tomoko shook her head. "But-- maybe you wouldn't like it anyway."

Edited 2012-12-15 01:41 (UTC)

"Tomoko-chan." He finally looked at her, out of surprise. There were a million ways he could respond to that, all ending in I would have loved your company anywhere, but he couldn't say any of them. It wasn't appropriate. He'd already said the phrase that was most important, and that hadn't—

That hadn't...worked out. It still shouldn't be a thing that— Was still... Possible.

He must not have said it, before. He didn't even remember what he'd said, before. "Tomoko-chan... My flight leaves tonight."

That made her stop walking, and it took all her strength not to look at him. No. No. He couldn't... that soon? Tomoko thought-- she had thought...

That only left them minutes, then. An hour, at the most. Probably. What time was it, now? She didn't know. Maybe-- maybe--

She wouldn't cry. She couldn't. So she kept her head bowed low, glad that her hair was covering her face. Because then he couldn't see her, and then she could go on and--

"I... I see." No, she didn't. But if he said that then surely he needed to go now, and Tomoko shouldn't be selfish at all. "I-I shouldn't be keeping you, Ryusei-san-- I c-can walk from here."

No. No.

Since she'd stopped, he'd stopped, too, and stood there on shaky legs while he took off his jacket, and leaned over to drape it over her shoulders.

He turned away again and continued plodding with the bike toward Tomoko's home. He had to keep walking. Even if it was slowly; he couldn't remain standing or he'd collapse.

"There's time." In the original plan, after all, they would have had time for dinner. "Tomoko-chan... When you get home, make sure to eat something."

She wished he didn't do that. The jacket was warm and it smelled like him and she didn't have the appetite to eat anything but it was nice to be reminded and it wasn't fair that he was acting like a gentleman tonight. Because then she'd miss these little acts and wish on most days that he was still here, that he was still looking out for her and it wasn't fair.

He was leaving tonight.

"How much time...?" do we have still left.

"A few hours."

After dropping Tomoko off, he needed to go home and pick up his bag. Then, since the drive was too long by motorcycle, he'd take the train to the airport. He had the entire schedule, the timing all figured out. He'd left a few hours for Tomoko because he hadn't wanted to think too hard about what might happen. A perfectly laid-out plan, doomed from the start because he hadn't chosen a good starting point. His first mistake had been keeping to himself the entire week he'd known he had to leave.

It was a moment before it registered. What was it that he'd just been asked? He turned to Tomoko. "Why...?"

A few hours? Still too short, yet it was more than what she thought they'd have. Maybe... maybe there was still time to salvage this date, this one date they were having - probably the only date they would have.

"Yuuki-san said there'd be a-- a meteor shower tonight."

Yuuki actually called her up days earlier to tell her this, that she and Kengo and Gentarou were scheduled to watch it and she was asking Tomoko if she could come. She had earlier said yes since she thought she would be free tonight, but then Ryusei had called resulting to Tomoko calling up Yuuki to tell her she couldn't make it after all.

And then Yuuki laughed and asked if it was because of Ryusei and Tomoko felt horrible because she couldn't say anything and instead she hung up on her friend.

But now--

Now, Tomoko looked up at him, and in a small voice asked, "Do you want to see it with me?"

"I—"

It felt like he had no choice. He should say no. Depending how far they had to go, it could throw off his schedule. Spending any more time lingering here would be too heavy.

"Where...?" Depending how far they had to go, they'd have to ride the bike together. He'd been prepared for that when he'd offered to take her home, but this was...unnecessary. Driving Tomoko home was a matter of course. This was out of his way. It wouldn't be a problem if he didn't feel so cold.

"... Let's go your place first. Pick up some blankets...." Involuntarily, his voice came out uncertain. He ducked his head again, looking at the ground over the handlebars. This would be easier if he didn't have to think about what tonight might have been like if he'd made the other decision. Unfortunately, he couldn't turn that off.

He'd said yes. He'd said yes and Tomoko smiled because he'd said yes, and that's all she was going to focus on right now. Because if she had to focus on others things--

No. No.

He'd said yes, and that was all that mattered.

"There's an empty lot behind our house..." She thought of taking him to Amanogawa, as the rooftop there would have a perfect view - but there was no time. This was better. She'd have opportunity to pick up blankets and some bread and tea and even some of the lizard tails she had left in a jar. He would also need a rabbit's foot for his journey and she had one on her table. "We could watch from there. It wouldn't take long."

Whatever you want. "Time isn't...my priority," he said hesitantly. Why should it be? He had hours. It was the spending that time with Tomoko that...was the problem. Because then he'd start to think that it was all okay. He couldn't say that, though.

"Tomoko-chan...." He stopped, clutched the handlebars. "... Why?" It had been cruel of him to bring her here, she'd said. She'd told him to stop saying that he lov— She'd told him not to say that. What was there left to be said? There wasn't any— There was no way that she'd accept waiting however long it took for him to come back. He couldn't think that that could be a possibility. But with each passing moment he was less and less able to restrain himself from bringing it up. So he shouldn't linger.

How could she even form the words? Tomoko didn't know. She didn't want to think beyond what was happening now, because if she did--

But he was asking why.

Hesitantly, she stepped closer to him. "Ryusei-san, this... this is supposed to be our date." My first. She blinked faster, trying to keep herself calm enough to speak. Dates were supposed to be fun, right? They were supposed to be having fun. "And I want--"

If he left, there was a possibility he'd forget her. Ryusei was very handsome; everyone thought so. And wherever it was he was going to, he could meet someone there and then he could forget her and--

She blinked again. "--I want us to have this." Because this was all they could have. Tomoko brought her hands and clasped them together. "I want to remember this."

"I...see." They thought and operated differently. But Ryusei should have understood where she was coming from. When Kengo had— When Kengo'd died, he'd said, 'I wish I'd talked with you more.' That was....

... This was different. But they'd all...seemed to feel better at the prospect of doing something. In the past, that had been defeating Gamou. In the current moment, Tomoko was....

"Let's...make the most of it." He could give her this much.

She nodded. Hesitantly, she reached out to place her hand on his, and gave a smile as bright as she could make it.

"We're not far from the house now," Tomoko said. Two more blocks, she thought. Then she swallowed and removed her hand from his, then turned to walk faster, away from him. She couldn't ask that they ride on his bike. She couldn't. She couldn't. Because that meant she had to hold on to his waist and she wasn't sure she could do that tonight.

Not tonight.

Thankfully, she'd retracted her hand before he'd had to take his own hand away. It would have been nice, before this had happened. And maybe he should let her, because this was all about making memories. But it was uncomfortable for the same reason that this entire thing was making him uncomfortable; they could no longer pretend that this was a normal night, and anything they did to that end after the fact was both a lie and a reminder of what they couldn't...be.

And he didn't want to have to see Tomoko merely pretend to be cheerful, because he knew what that was like. But there was no longer anything he could say or do to cheer her up for real.

... They were here. The walk had been simultaneously too quick and too slow. The place where he'd place parked earlier in the night was still vacant; they hadn't spent much time at the restaurant. Ryusei could have done that better. Not be so nervous. Been more reassuring to start with. But he shouldn't think about it; there wasn't anything he could do about that now.

She didn't ask him to come up. This was at the back of Tomoko's mind as she raced up to her room as quickly as she could. There were too many things to grab that she wasn't sure she'd remember them all. In the end, she did grab four blankets, the rabbit's foot, and several jars which sat on her desk. She also grabbed a bag and pushed all the things inside, then she stopped by the kitchens to get something to eat.

Thank goodness her mother wasn't home, or else Tomoko would be grilled about tonight's events and she wasn't sure how she could even start telling how wrong everything was in a night that was supposed to be perfect. Tomoko's mother liked Ryusei; sure, she liked all of Tomoko's (normal) friends, but she seemed to take a particular liking to Ryusei as well. Now Tomoko worried how she'd break it to her mother that Ryusei would be gone--

Tomoko moved quicker. Don't think. Jam, a mug of tea, loaves of bread--

Ten minutes after she got in, Tomoko stepped out of her house, almost out of breath. "T-there," she said, pointing at a small street path leading to the back of her house. "W-We go through there."

"Let's wait a second, first," he answered, alarmed. His first impulse was to grab her arms to steady her, maybe to keep her in place if she still insisted on rushing, but that wasn't— He kept his arms at his sides.

"The sky won't go anywhere." That went for him, too. He could bear this for as long as necessary (only a few hours, at most). So he should at least try. It was too soon for him to be able to smile, but he could take her bag. He could make this as normal as possible for her sake.

"Y-Yes, but--" She looked up. "Yuuki-san said the shower should be starting soon." Maybe it was a good thing they didn't head to Amanogawa - Gentarou and the others could have been there, after all, and she had a feeling Ryusei didn't want to see them. Not yet. "And there's a lot of things to do to prepare." They hadn't eaten yet - not that Tomoko was hungry, but she knew Ryusei had to eat before--

No, no, no.

Tomoko hesitated, then made a decision to pull Ryusei with her by grabbing his sleeve. "Come on."

Well, it wasn't like preparing would take long—

"I-I'm coming," he said weakly. He felt like reiterating that there was no rush, but she'd surely heard him the first time. And, well, they were in fact on a time limit.

"... Is this a good spot?" There was a decent view of the sky from here.

"Mm." Even though he was holding the bag, Tomoko opened it and grabbed two blankets, then laid them on the ground. She took two so that they would have enough space and he wouldn't need to sit close to her, which he would have to do if there was only one blanket.

"A few more minutes, I think," she said, removing her shoes so she could sit down and make herself comfortable on the blanket.

If she tried hard enough, this would almost seem like one of their regular not-dates. If she tried hard enough, then she could probably forget this wouldn't - couldn't - happen again.

Probably.

Even just holding the bag for her while she took things from it was too close. It was an uncomfortable few seconds. He'd actually gotten used to it—proximity—before, but now he was reacting as if they were strangers. He couldn't help it. The urge to distance himself. The sooner he got used to her absence the better off he'd be.

He lay down tentatively, hyper-aware of where she was in relation to him. There was no helping that, either. He fixed his gaze on the sky so he'd resist the urge to look at her the entire time they were here.

He wanted to ask what the jars were for, make small talk, but he also didn't want to know. He did have the vague sense of what they were; he'd known her long enough for that kind of thing to be somewhat familiar. Long enough... Had it really been that long? Maybe he wouldn't be away for any longer than the amount of time they'd known each other. Maybe it wouldn't...be that painful. No, he couldn't think that way. He was being complacent because he was lying down, and this sort of nervousness about being together on a sort-of date was familiar to him, and the other nervousness from earlier in the night had faded away. It would be painful to get up, when it was time, he knew.

But for now, there were a few hours. "Were there extra blankets?" he muttered. The external cold from the weather was starting to register now that he wasn't so tense. "Are you cold?"

Where did he put the-- oh, there it was. Tomoko shuffled closer to the bag, grabbed the extra blankets from it. She swallowed nervously, then haphazardly draped one over him. The other she draped around herself. Beneath the blankets, she hugged her knees to her person and breathed.

In the quiet of the evening, when everything was silent, Tomoko became aware that she was, in fact, tired. Exhausted, both physically and emotionally. The walk back to her house and the sprint she did inside made the muscles in her leg a bit stiff, but they were nothing compared to what she'd felt earlier this evening. But she knew all her aches would ebb away. All she'd need was time.

She wondered how much time she'd need.

Tomoko turned to him. "You should eat," she said softly. "I packed you something to eat." And, just so she'd have something to do, Tomoko reached for the bag to empty out its contents. Soon, tea, bread, even natto were laid on the blanket between them. She also took out two plates and two cups for them to use.

He'd nearly flinched when she came close to drape the blanket on him. He didn't think she'd noticed, but it was hard to tell sometimes what she noticed and didn't.

With a bit of effort, he sat up, wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, and tucked his legs under him as Tomoko took the things out of the bag. It was strange to be wearing something so formal while doing this, but it couldn't be helped; they couldn't have stayed at the restaurant. Would it have been better or worse if they'd been able to? It had been warm there, but being alone here was...nice, too. For a certain value of nice. It was private, and even though it was cold, it was kind of cozy. Wrapped in blankets, noting that Tomoko had brought natto out.

The problem was the people. The kind of person he was. Suggesting they huddle together for warmth was out of the question. He would have done it once, before. Now he just pulled the blanket tighter around him. "That's thoughtful. Thank you." He wanted to say something else, but he couldn't even look up at her properly. That was the problem with the entire scenario, that he hadn't been able to foresee. He should have. "Thank you," he repeated. "... For everything," he added quietly.

She was in the middle of pouring tea for him when she heard his words. Tomoko's hands shook; she splashed the side of Ryusei's cup and she quickly lowered the mug and used napkins to wipe it away.

He shouldn't thank her for anything. This was her thought as she shook her head at him. If anything, it was she who should be thankful that someone like him would even pay attention to an outcast like her. Tomoko knew that whenever they were seen together people wondered how and why and she knew they were thinking there must be something wrong with him, or there must be something right with her. Mostly the latter, though, so when she started college she found, to her surprise, that there were others quite willing to welcome her - especially since JK, who had always been her companion, transferred to a different school. Suddenly, even when Ryusei wasn't there for her, she wasn't always alone as she'd expected.

"You shouldn't-- there's no need to thank me for anything." Especially since it sounded so much like goodbye and she didn't want to face that yet. "Maybe I'm the one who should thank you for everything you've done. When you're Meteor... and when you're not."

She grabbed her chopsticks and toyed with the lid covering her natto. "I wonder, though - Ryusei-san, do you think... do you think if you weren't Meteor, we would have met?"

for asteroidbelt

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