Chapter Text
The Summer We Fell in Love (Pt. I)
Chishiya sips his iced americano as he waits impatiently, foot tapping against the wooden floor of the coffee shop. It’s fairly busy and unfortunately filled with too much noise for the individuals attempting to study or get work done. Chishiya frowns; he hates noise. And it’s a regularly passing thought that perhaps he shouldn’t have moved to Shinjuku, and in return forced himself into a position where he must always agree to meet Kuina in the newest “hot spot” she insists they try.
But Kuina isn’t here, and Chishiya is alone in this ridiculously loud place. He presses against the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He hates noise.
It’s why he prefers the hospital. Because other than the beeps and buzzes of medical equipment, he’s often met with silence. He’s always relieved for listening to his father about going into medicine. He really is suited for the cold and sterile environment.
Chishiya tenses when someone sits at the next table closely beside him. He specifically picked the spot in the far corner away from the windows with the worst lighting for Instagram ‘foodies’ in the hopes that everyone will stay away from him, but clearly his unfriendly expression and the way he’s curled up in the corner wasn’t enough to draw this person away. So he peeks at them from the corner of his eye, and finds a pleasantly attractive woman. He thinks he likes the way you tuck your hair behind your ear before taking a sip of your latte, and the way the foam sticks to your nose and makes it scrunch up cutely until you wipe it away with a napkin. He feels a bit stupid for watching you like some creep. So he hides behind his hair and stares down at the dark color of his drink as he swirls the straw and makes the ice clink against the glass. He resists the urge to look at you again. You’re just a pretty girl.
“I should have known you’d be hiding in the corner.”
He looks up to find Kuina with an eyebrow raised as if she’s completely unimpressed by his introvertedness. She spent most of their time in university trying to get him out of his shell, but learned that it’s likely never going to be possible.
He stares at the disgustingly pink blended drink in her hand and just knows she’s already taken a cute photo with it in the fancy outdoor area in the back patio. He motions for her to sit instead of responding and huffs in annoyance when her long legs knock against his under the table. And he notices she has a few new decorations in her hair and admires her ability to feel so comfortable expressing herself. He barely managed to survive dying his hair like he’s always wanted because it made too many women stare at him and he still doesn’t know how to manage it.
“Rizuna wants to do dinner later,” Kuina says, and Chishiya shakes his head even if he’d like to have dinner with her and Ann.
“My parents are visiting for the weekend,” Chishiya says.
He thinks his parents are still too worried about him. But he’s in his late-twenties with a secure career and a nice apartment. He thinks he’s living a perfectly comfortable life.
…he thinks his mother just wants him to find a nice woman to settle down with. But Chishiya managing to even start a relationship with anyone doesn’t mean it will last. He sees no point in trying and only suffering disappointment.
Kuina takes a sip of her drink, or what is most likely an overly sweet synthetic flavor of some type of pink, before letting out a strange noise of annoyance. She gives him an indecipherable look even if Chishiya thinks he’s good at reading people. “I think you and your parents are too codependent. They’re always in the city and you still talk to them twice a day on the phone.”
Chishiya shrugs. He doesn’t think it’s so wrong to have a strong relationship with his parents. He thinks it’s important to give them back what they’ve always given to him, even if he sometimes struggles with it. It’s why he enjoys medicine. Because while he wouldn’t say he has a passion for it, it gives him some sense of purpose. It forces him to try and feel in ways he finds himself unable to in the rest of his life. Chishiya has always struggled with feelings, and at most can manage some affection towards Ann and Kuina alongside his parents. He sometimes wonders if there’s something wrong with him. It makes him wonder if he wasn’t loved enough as a child and somehow turned out this way, but his parents have always showered him with warmth and adoration. He really has no one to blame except himself.
“We’ll do something next weekend,” Chishiya decides to say instead. And the conversation easily moves on as Kuina complains about a client she had at the salon who argued with her the entire time about which blonde would suit them the best. He thinks he doesn’t care, but he still doesn’t like the way it upsets Kuina. He’d rather have her always happy.
He grows bored and restless of the conversation and feels the strange urge to look at you again, but he knows that if Kuina caught him, then she would force him to talk to you. He doesn’t think he’s capable of it. He hates conversations with strangers unless it’s work related.
Kuina’s legs hit his again as she talks animatedly and he tries to avoid showing his discomfort. He doesn’t like to be touched and knows that she always respects his boundaries, but the table is small. So he just counts the number of flowers in the painting behind her instead until he hears her sigh.
“Are you listening?”
He shakes his head and she groans, but there's a soft smile on her face. He appreciates that she’s never truly upset with him, because he doesn’t think most people can tolerate him. It’s why he’s never made it past a first date, even if, according to Kuina, his looks are desirable to most of the female population. She taps her nails on the table, “Do you want to go somewhere else?”
“Not somewhere crowded,” he says, and she just nods her head. He thinks they’ll just go to the park by his house until the summer heat is enough to force them inside and drink as much of the grape juice Chishiya has in his fridge.
He stands, grabbing his brown leather bag and following Kuina out of the coffee shop. He has an absurd thought that he wishes he would have looked at you one last time. But he might just be fixating on the cute expression on your face. It’s just what he does.
Chishiya sighs. He’s still upset he didn’t get the chance to properly look at you.
It’s an hour of lounging in the shade of a large tree in the park by his house, before they really do have to seek salvation in Chishiya’s air conditioned apartment. They watch some tv on the couch before Kuina leaves, and with her departure goes most of his grape juice as he solemnly recycles two large plastic bottles. He doesn’t have any more, and it’s really all he drinks other than water and black coffee. He’s picky about food, and it’s always a challenge to get him to eat anywhere.
He just adds grape juice to the grocery list taped to his fridge, and refuses to admit that he’s startled by the ringing of a phone, because it’s clearly not his ringtone or Kuina’s. So he walks over towards his leather bag where the sound is loudest and flips it open, but he can really only stare because it’s not his bag, and suddenly Chishiya is filled with intense anxiety because someone else has his things.
He snatches up the phone with a ridiculous bedazzled case and answers it hesitantly, “Hello?”
He hears a relieved sigh, “I’m so glad you answered! I think we switched bags. You’re that guy from the coffee shop right? ”
Chishiya feels his heartbeat thump in his chest. He would consider this luck if he wasn’t currently trying not to have a meltdown over his missing things. He tries to keep his voice even, “Yes.”
You let out another sound, this time of happiness, and he thinks he would like to hear it again. “I hope you have time to meet today? I really need my bag.”
He looks over at the clock on his wall. He still has quite a bit of time until he meets his parents. And he feels some type of anticipation at the thought of speaking with you in person. “I can meet.”
“Can we do the coffee shop again, maybe in an hour? Or is that too inconvenient? ”
Chishiya would rather avoid going to the busy shop again, but he wants to be considerate of what’s easy for you too. “It’s fine.”
“Thank you so so much! I’ll see you then.” And then the line goes dead and Chishiya stands there for a moment with your phone in his hand. He tries to slip it into one of the pockets without looking.
He doesn’t want to look into the bag. It feels too personal and invasive, and it makes him wonder if you’re curious to shuffle through the contents of his bag, if you’re handling his worn out copy of his favorite book with as much care as he does. Feels worried the already yellowing pages might be torn if you’re careless with his things. It’s why he carefully removes the plastic bottle of half empty tea peeking out from the corner of the brown leather, worried the condensation dripping down the sides might damage anything of importance. He doesn’t think you’ll be upset about a missing drink.
He recycles it beside the empty juice bottles and begins to wonder if he should change. He thinks you most likely didn’t pay attention to him at all, and while Chishiya normally has no difficulty recalling simple details, he was too nervous of being caught to take a proper look at you. The only color he remembers of your clothes is a pale yellow, but he doesn’t think you’ll remember what he’s wearing even if you did look at him. He still changes his white shirt into a slightly nicer white shirt and wears his sneakers with the cleanest laces.
And while he would take the train to avoid sweating, his pass is in his wallet, and it’s likely you don’t have yours as well. So he shoves in his headphones and listens to a series of piano concertos that shuffle on his old ipod because he likes the way he knows every song, so he’s never surprised. He’s just glad he had the device in his pocket. He’s not sure how else he’d tune out the busy city as he walks alone.
Chishiya is relieved he doesn’t live so far from the coffee shop, but he only hopes you don’t have to travel far because the thought of inconveniencing you because of his mistake fills him with stress. He’s upset he made such a stupid mistake. He’s never done anything else like this before. And he begins to wonder if you think he’s an idiot. It gives him the brief idea of trying to tell you he’s a doctor…but that would just be strange if he were to say it without you asking his profession first. So he just stands in front of the entrance of the shop nervously as he waits and tries to turn off his thoughts by focusing on his soft music.
He’s busy trying to read the back of some man’s printed t-shirt when you suddenly block his vision. He feels a bit stunned for a moment because you’re even prettier than he originally assessed now that he can really stare at you. Your eyes are gentle and your lips are curved into an attractive smile, and he likes the way the sunlight makes your hair shine as it blows in the light breeze– the smells of lemons and vanilla filling the air. And he enjoys your simple yellow sundress as it lightly sways against your calves.
Your mouth is moving as you say something, but he can’t hear you with his headphones, so he takes them out hastily. It makes you laugh and he likes the way it sounds.
“Thank you so much for meeting me,” you say, as you hand him his bag and he does the same, all of his previous fear of losing his things immediately soothed.
“Thanks,” Chishiya is genuinely grateful you didn’t just take his things…or at least he hopes. He’ll go through everything later.
And he thinks this might be the end of it. He sees no reason to continue talking to you or why you would want to continue to talk to him. He knows he wasn’t friendly on the phone, but that’s just because he never knows what to say, especially if he can’t see someone’s face. Chishiya is so busy trying to figure out how to walk away without being rude that your next words surprise him.
“I know we both just had coffee, but would you like to have another with me?”
He thinks it’s a stupid question, because of course he would. Chishiya nods, “Okay.”
So he stares down at his second iced americano of the day and tries to come up with something interesting to say. He doesn’t want to give you a reason to leave like everyone else with his lack of communication. You bought his coffee too, so he doesn’t want to disappoint you. He unhappily scrapes the bottom of his shoes against the artificial grass beneath his feet as the two of you sit in a shady corner in the outside area of the cafe. He likes the shop now that it isn’t so crowded.
“I’m Chishiya Shuntaro,” he says simply, looking up at you to find a sweet smile on your face that eases his discomfort as you introduce yourself back. He likes the sound of your name. He’d like to have reasons to say it.
Chishiya normally doesn’t like eye contact, but he doesn’t mind it so much with you. He thinks your gaze is so gentle it’s almost impossible for him to be uncomfortable. And he watches as a blush blooms across your cheeks as he stares at you.
“So what do you do, Chishiya?” you ask, and it’s a simple question. It’s something he can answer easily.
“I’m a pediatric cardiothoracic surgeon.”
You look amazed, but it’s not anything glamorous. And when you lift your cup to your lips, he notices a little happy face design on your pinky nail. He thinks it’s a bit silly, and doesn’t understand why it isn’t on every nail.
“Maybe we’re a little bit similar,” you smile again, “I’m a kindergarten teacher.”
Chishiya thinks you must like children, but he doesn’t really have too much of an opinion on them. He just knows he wants to keep his patients alive; that wouldn’t change if they were adults. But he doesn’t think that would be an appropriate thing to say, or something that would make you like him. Chishiya wishes he just knew what to say, but he thinks this is why none of his dates ever worked before– not that this is one.
“Did you study medicine here?”
Chishiya nods, “At Borderlands.”
Your eyes light up in excitement, “I went there too. I studied communications, but I smartly changed my career path after spending all that money on a degree.”
He thinks you’re making a joke, and it’s not like Chishiya can’t pick up on social cues; he can. He’s just too uncertain of this to laugh, and he struggles to see why you think he’s still interesting enough to try and make conversation with. He clearly isn’t. “I like your nail.” is all he finds himself saying. He just wants you to know he’s interested. He doesn’t want you to think he’s cold and rude like the other women he’s tried to do this with.
“Yeah?” you laugh, “I think it’s fun. My best friend thinks it’s totally lame, but he’s kind of emo, so he wouldn’t like it unless it’s a frown.”
You manage to bring a small smirk to his lips. He thinks you’re kind of funny and incredibly sweet. And he thinks you’d get along with Kuina and even manage to bring a smile to Ann’s face. Chishiya tries to find another thing to say, but has never enjoyed small talk, and he obviously can’t talk medicine with you, so he taps his foot anxiously on the ground.
“Are you from the area?” he finds himself asking, and is pleased by his question.
You shake your head, “I’m from Osaka. I just moved here for university and never left. And you?”
“Kanagawa,” he says, “Not far. I live around this area now.”
You purse your lips in thought, “It’s a nice area. I live a bit more out of the city with my best friend.”
Chishiya doesn’t think he’d like living with anyone else. He doesn’t like people touching his stuff. But he’s upset by the knowledge that you’ve had to come back so far just to get your bag. He wouldn’t have minded meeting you somewhere else– somewhere easier. Chishiya thinks you were probably considering what was easier for him and it’s just reassurance that you’re so kind even when you had no reason to be. He took your bag first.
“I didn’t mean to take your bag.”
“I didn’t think you did, but it worked out didn’t it?” you give him a wink and his face feels hot. He doesn’t disagree, and hopes that maybe this is something more. You at least seem interested in him, unlike most women who try to cut their date short once they realize he isn’t what they expected.
Because he finds that conversation with you is easier than it is with others, even if you dominate it. He quickly becomes as comfortable as he feels when he’s with Ann and Kuina, and that took years to accomplish. And the two of you continue talking even after the coffee cups on the table are empty and make wet rings beneath the glass and onto the wood. If it were Chishiya’s house, he would’ve used a coaster and while something like this would normally irritate him, he doesn’t find he cares that much right now.
“Do you think I could see you again?” you ask, and he wants to think you don’t even have to because he obviously does, but he knows he can be hard to read.
“Okay.”
You reach into your identical bag and pull out your phone. He’s once again unsure how he feels about the obnoxious glittering of your phone case as you hand it over to him, “Can you put your number in?”
Chishiya nods, and tries not to think too much about the way your fingers brush against his as he grabs your phone. He quickly types in his details into your contacts and hands it back to you. He doesn’t know why you're interested in him. He hasn’t given you a reason to be, but he’s not going to ask and risk the possibility of you changing your mind.
“When are you free next?” you ask, and only now does he wish he didn’t work so many hours.
“I’ll be available next Sunday,” Chishiya says, and hopes that will work with your schedule.
“Would you like to get dinner, then?” you’re smiling so sweetly that he tries to focus on your words rather than your pretty face.
“I’d like that.” He finally notices that the sun is getting lower in the sky, and immediately remembers that he has to meet his parents. “I have to go.”
“It is getting a bit late, isn’t it,” you look up at the sky for a moment before giving your attention back to him, “I didn’t mean to take up so much of your time.”
Chishiya shakes his head, “You didn’t. I’m sorry again.”
“It’s okay. I think it was worth it.”
He’s so affected by your words and it’s a bit of a rush. It’s rare that people get to him in any way, so he likes the way his heartbeat picks up at your words. Chishiya is surprised when he finds himself smiling.
And he feels disappointed when the two of you stand up from the table and walk out of the shop, and he gives you a little wave as you walk in the opposite direction as him down the busy street. Chishiya sticks in his headphones and feels slightly optimistic. He never would have imagined you wanting to see him again, and now that you do, he feels he actually wants to try to make this work. Chishiya has never wanted to be alone; he just never thought he’s the type of person capable of holding a relationship.
Chishiya sighs. He only hopes he doesn’t do anything to screw this up.
He only hopes this works.
“Chishiya, darling, you seem distracted.”
Chishiya looks up from where he’s been staring at the quickly cooling broth of his soba. His parents look concerned, but they always do. He puts down his chopsticks and leans back in his seat, “I think I met someone.”
He sees the way his mother’s eyes light up and his father looks relieved. It’s like they think he’s completely alone, but he always has Ann and Kuina. But he doesn’t think that satisfies them enough.
“That’s wonderful. What’s she like?”
Chishiya thinks you’re beautiful. And it didn’t take long for him to come to the conclusion that you’re filled with kindness and consideration. You seemed to adjust your own communication skills to carry a conversation with someone like him, and not many people are willing to do that. He thinks you’re funny even if he doesn’t really laugh at your jokes other than the uncontrollable smirks you manage to bring to his face. And he knows you must be quite soft and adapting, when you’re able to work in an environment with children and hovering parents, and wonders if that’s how you managed to not take his introvertedness too personally when it’s your job to communicate diversely. Chishiya still has a lot to learn about you. He just knows he likes you.
Instead he shrugs, “She’s nice.”
“And how is work going?” His father asks, changing the subject. His parents know that pushing Chishiya for anything won’t get them anywhere. It’s clear he’s not going to talk more about you.
He takes in the way his father’s glasses reflect the low light of the restaurant, and the aging lines around the man’s face that always makes Chishiya concerned. His father is a doctor too, and works hours much too long. At least Chishiya is young and his body can tolerate it.
“The typical system of corruption that I can only try to work around,” Chishiya says, and it makes his father release a bitter laugh. The man knows just how difficult the world of medicine can be, and the often abhorrent way it’s treated as a business rather than its original purpose– to care for people. Chishiya often has to remind himself of that as well.
It makes him think of you, and whether or not you’d find his difficulty with empathy, with most of the people he interacts with, as something that would make you lose interest in him. He knows it’s not an admirable quality and he has already figured out that you are the complete opposite of him in this. He frowns, looking towards his mother for guidance, “I don’t want to mess up.”
His mother just smiles gently, and he notices there’s a bit more gray in her otherwise black hair than the last time they were here. It wasn’t even a month ago, and the observation upsets him in ways most problems in his life are never able to do. “I think you just have to be yourself. If she wants to see you again, she must like you.”
Chishiya shakes his head; being authentic has never worked in his favor when dating women– not that he’s even properly dated one. He thinks you probably have no problem with men. He can’t imagine a scenario where someone wouldn’t like you. It makes him wonder why you seem to like him.
“Then perhaps try to do things you’re comfortable with, at least in the beginning,” his mother suggests, and he thinks it’s good advice. He’d rather be in an environment that he’s more relaxed in. He knows he’d do better in a nice restaurant, than a crowded bar; he doesn’t even drink.
He nods, and goes back to eating his food in between answering light questions about his life and listening to their recount of the short weekend trip they took to Hakone last week. He likes the thought of his parents being able to do more things without him. He thinks they try to take him with them everywhere because he hardly has a life outside of work.
And after dinner he lets his mother kiss his cheek and his father places a comforting hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t really mind his parent’s touches. They’ve always been physically affectionate even if he really isn’t. He just learned to enjoy it from them.
“Don’t let yourself worry,” his mother says softly, “Everything will work out, darling.”
Chishiya nods, and lets his father give him a few encouraging words too. And they both tell him to keep up his hard work at the hospital, but to not let it take up too much of his life. He tells them that it won’t, even if he’s sure it will like it always does.
They part ways and Chishiya is once again caught in his thoughts of you. He finds it with irritation that it doesn’t stop even as he gets home and settles in for the night. And when he falls asleep his last thought is of you.
It feels like his shifts at the hospital stretch on in a way they never have before, as Chishiya waits for his date with you. The two of you have exchanged a few texts, and he once again wonders why you’re so interested in him when he clearly doesn’t reply to you warmly, no matter how enthusiastic he feels inside. He just fails to see the point in texting when everything is always lost in translation compared to an in person conversation. Still, Chishiya tries his best.
“I can’t believe you’re going on a date,” Kuina says as she lounges on his couch, feet in Ann’s lap. He holds up two button downs in front of them expectantly. Kuina shakes her head at him, “I don’t think you need to dress that nice. And you’re going to be too hot in this heat and sweat through the fabric.”
Ann tilts her head at him, “What about a short sleeve button down? You have that gray one that’s nice, with some dark jeans.”
Kuina nods enthusiastically, “That could work. It’s just dressed up enough.” She grins at him suddenly, and he looks at her warily, “Are you going to kiss her?”
He thinks she’s absolutely ridiculous; of course he isn’t. He hardly knows you and it’s completely inappropriate to even try to touch you only the second time he’s met you. But it makes him worry because what if you’re expecting him to? Chishiya has only been kissed once and he hated it. He wouldn’t want to even attempt it and realize he couldn’t. He doesn’t want to ruin this thing with you.
“I think you won’t mind it if you really like her,” Kuina says knowingly. And while she can’t read him easily from the outside, she knows the way his mind works.
“I’m going to shower,” he mumbles, leaving them in his living room to scroll on their phones with his tv on in the background.
Chishiya lets the water run through his hair and down his face. He scrubs in some purple shampoo Kuina recommended to keep the silvery blonde looking fresh. He doesn’t want you to think he doesn’t take care of himself. And he shaves his face carefully in the small mirror in the bathroom, even if there isn’t much grooming to do in the first place. He just wants to look nice.
And when he’s dressed and Kuina’s dried his hair in that perfect way only stylists manage to do, the two women look at him with satisfaction.
“You look nice,” Ann says, “I think she’ll be impressed.”
“Where are you taking her?” Kuina asks, reaching onto the coffee table for her glass of water. Even with his air conditioner, it does little to fight the burning sunlight that streams into the room from his sliding glass door.
“Sushi,” Chishiya fixes his collar, “The one we go to with the private rooms.”
He thinks it’s a nice enough place and the private rooms have views of a small garden that’s built into the center of the building. He finds it calming and comfortable since he doesn’t have to be around people.
Kuina hums, “That’s a nice place. I think it’s good.”
He’s relieved she seems to think it’s a good idea. He was unsure if forcing you into a private room with him would be inappropriate or make you uncomfortable. He still wants you to know that you have the option to leave if you realize he has nothing to offer…other than financial stability. But that’s never persuaded any of the other women to stay.
Chishiya sits in one of the armchairs across from the couch, foot tapping on the gray rug. He still has an hour until he has to meet you, and he wants to be as prepared as possible. He takes Kuina and Ann’s advice seriously: smile, laugh at her jokes, try to ask questions that lead into a conversation and not just a simple answer, compliment her, have warm body language. Their suggestions don’t stop and he tries to take into account everything they say, but a lot of it doesn’t come naturally to him and if he forces it, he’s worried if he’ll come off even stranger. He thinks it’s better to just try and be honest with you about what he wants.
It’s why the first thing he says to you, after the two of you sit across from each other cross legged in the warm wooden room of the restaurant, mossy garden on display through the open window on the right, is completely inappropriate.
“I’m not going to kiss you.”
Chishiya thinks he’s being respectful. He just wants you to know that he’s here because he’d like to build an emotional connection and is less concerned with trying to sleep with you. He thinks it’s a good thing to say, but the way your smile falters has him reconsidering his words.
“I don’t mind being friends,” your tone is soft and your smile is warm, as if he just didn’t insult you by making you think he’s not interested in you.
He shakes his head in frustration, “I just want to get to know you first.”
Your eyes widen in realization, blush blooming on your cheeks, “I’d like that to. It’s nice to take things slow.”
Chishiya nods; he wants you to enjoy talking with him. He just has to actually do better at the talking part, because he’s pretty sure you enjoy him regardless. Chishiya tries to look like he’s happy to be here with you, because he is. “Should we order?”
You nod enthusiastically, “Yes, I’m starving.”
So the two of you pick out a few things from the tablet attached to the table, and thankfully Chishiya isn’t picky when it comes to most sushi. And he enjoys the way your face lightens up in delight as you take a bite of tuna nigiri. He likes the way you eat; you’re truly savoring your food. Chishiya has really only considered it sustenance even if he sometimes finds himself enjoying a particular flavor. But he thinks coffee and grape juice don’t really count.
“How is work?” Chishiya asks. It was easy for him to come to the conclusion that you are passionate about what you do; you disregarded your degree just to teach children. Though Chishiya could consider communications as a valuable degree when working in education.
You chew your fish quickly and wash it down with some green tea before speaking, “It’s going well, but a few of the kids are out with colds, so it’s a bit quiet.”
Chishiya is slightly concerned with the possibility of you carrying whatever sickness your students have been falling ill to and transferring it to him, but you look perfectly healthy. And he doesn’t think you’re inconsiderate enough to risk him getting sick just for a simple date.
“I’m sorry,” Chishiya says. Kuina has always told him that it makes others feel better when he verbally shows he cares. Because it certainly almost never shows on his face or in his body language.
You smile, “It’s not anything serious. I’m sure I’ll have a full class in no time… How is your work? I’m sure it can’t be easy.”
It’s really not, at least when he’s fighting with the department about getting his patient a transplant. He’s frustrated that the hospital doesn’t seem to care, and it’s not the first time it seems like someone else will be able to buy their way into surgery while the young boy he’s been treating most likely won’t make it. It makes Chishiya sad. It makes Chishiya angry. He’s addicted to the rush of such vibrant emotions.
He doesn’t think he should say any of this.
“It’s fine.”
You just nod as if he’s given you a satisfying answer even though he knows he hasn’t. It’s confusing… “I don’t understand why you like me,” Chishiya says simply.
You’re silent for a few moments, and he feels anticipation as he awaits your answer. It’s why he likes you, he thinks. He likes the way you make him want things, or you.
“I like the way you see the world.”
Chishiya tilts his head. He hardly sees the world as anything, and he’s curious how you’ve come up with this idea after only speaking with him twice. He’s always been told he’s numb. And his parents and friends are always surprisingly overjoyed when he expresses any sort of emotion towards them. “But I don’t…” he trails off, unsure of how to finish his sentence.
“I think you consider the world very deeply. I think you understand it and feel it in a way most don’t. You just have a hard time translating it.”
It makes Chishiya wonder if you see something he doesn’t. Because you clearly see something in him past his awkward and cold personality, and he’s impressed that you’re able to. He looks out at the garden, watching the small stone fountain and the way the water cycles through it. The sound of the stream is calming, and he likes the smell of wet nature from the water that splashes over the edge of the sculpture onto the mossy rocks. Chishiya has always found nature more appealing than the city. He likes water even more.
“I’m not known for my ability to feel. If you’re looking for someone who can give you a normal relationship, that’s not me.” It’s perhaps the most he’s said to you at once, but you don’t seem put off.
But it is the truth. He thinks he feels things, he thinks he reads people well. He just doesn’t think he feels enough to have it mean anything, and he definitely has no ability to give someone what they need. He doesn’t know why he’s said this you…wasn’t his entire goal to try and make you want to be with him?
“I still want to try,” you say gently, with an even more delicate smile. He’s never thought it would ever be possible to meet a woman who actually likes him the way he is.
But Chishiya wants to try too. He just hopes you’re not disappointed. So he just nods.
“Okay.”
The next time he sees you is only four days later. He’s surprisingly not working completely through the week, and you don’t work very late, so he’s able to do something a bit more casual with you.
It’s hot; it’s summer. Chishiya can smell moisture in the air and thinks it might rain. He contemplates buying an umbrella, but the two of you are nowhere near a convenience store and he'd rather not ruin your enjoyment as you eat a peach soft cream he bought for you.
“You really didn’t want one?” you look disappointed that he’s not eating any as well, but he has ice cream in his freezer that he can eat later.
Chishiya shakes his head, “Just enjoy.”
You finish it quickly, so the two of you don’t have to keep standing by the stall and make your way deeper within the park until the sound of the city fades away. Chishiya enjoys the verdant grass surrounding the path, and thinks it’s much better than the synthetic grass at the coffee shop. And he likes that he doesn’t have to force conversation with you. It seems that you are perfectly happy walking with him in silence, and he’s relieved that he won’t always have to struggle with what to say. He’s pleased you feel comfortable with him like this too.
The first drop on his face is unexpected, and the immediate downpour shocks him. He feels the fabric of his clothes soak and stick to his skin and his hair plasters onto his face. He blinks in the rain and turns towards you; you’re just as drenched by the heavy summer rain– dripping warm down your skin.
“Over there,” you say over the pounding rain, pointing towards a worn out wooden gazebo, and Chishiya nods as the two of you run quickly towards dryness, even if it hardly matters now.
You laugh loudly as the two of you make it beneath the shelter of the wooden structure and it makes Chishiya smile. You seem so overjoyed by the rain that he wonders what it must be like to be affected so greatly by something so simple.
One of his favorite things is summer rain, but he doesn’t think he looks like that when he watches it fall– wide smile, all perfect white teeth, and eyes crinkling at the corners. You’re simply breathtaking, even with your blue dress sticking to your skin and your hair flattened down on your head as it drips on the floor. He watches your eyes sweep his front with rosy cheeks and it makes him feel strangely tingly all over with the way your stare at his abs through the wet white shirt stuck against his stomach.
“I wonder how long it will rain,” you seem to overcome your initial flustering at his exposing shirt.
He wonders too. It’s almost never certain when a downpour like this might start and stop, so he joins you as you sit on the long bench built inside the structure. He’s not sure why he decides to sit so close to you, knees touching. He should hate it, but he really thinks he likes it. Chishiya doesn’t look at you, instead at the rain that soaks the grass and the sound of it falling through the trees and its rich green leaves, and the way it pounds against the wooden roof of the gazebo.
“I love the rain,” you say softly, but even over the rain he can still hear you. He nods in agreement, but isn’t sure if you’re looking at him so he responds with a simple me too. You let out a laugh, and it’s more of a snort, but Chishiya thinks it’s cute, “We probably look like drowned rats.”
He decides to turn to you, and decides his face is much too close to yours to be appropriate for only an official second date. He finds your makeup is a little smeared around your eyes and your face is a little red from the intense heat and humidity, but he still thinks you’re, “Beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
You look down in embarrassment and he worries he said something wrong, but then you whisper, “I think you’re very beautiful too.”
Chishiya is overwhelmed by such a normal statement. He’s been told he’s attractive before, many times, but never beautiful, he supposes. He wonders why this affects him so much when it’s just an ordinary thing to say. It makes him feel reckless, and he does something so out of character that he resists walking out into the rain and running away.
“Will you be my girlfriend?”
You look up at him with wide eyes, pink lips slightly parted. You stare a bit dumbly and he’s worried he’s broken you in some way as you just remain silent. He feels self conscious; he starts to feel regret, but then the corners of your mouth turn up into a dazzling smile and it reassures him of any doubt.
“I’d like that, Chishiya. I’d really like that.”
He wonders if he should try to kiss you, but doesn’t think he’s ready yet. He thinks he wants to, soon.
“Will you hold my hand?”
He nods, taking your hand delicately with shaking fingers, and yours intertwine with his so perfectly. He doesn’t mind being touched; he doesn’t mind you touching him. He feels more comfortable staring at you than the rain this time. And Chishiya just thinks that yes. Yes.
This really might work.