Tu es partout car tu es dans mon coeur
You are everywhere because you are in my heart
--
It seems that the music she's been playing has brought him to her door. Mitsuru lets him in without a word, and he sits down heavily on her couch. She closes the door quietly, knowing that he probably just needs to be around someone else for a while, but not many people at once. There's an essay halfway typed on her computer, though it's not her best work given the circumstances. She sits down again at her desk, watching Akihiko from the corner of her eye.
She frowns at the sentence she's typed, tapping the delete key to the beat of the music. One of Edith Piaf's songs had come up on her computer's playlist, and now she has her entire collection of French popular music on a loop. She's used these songs to help her studies for years. Piaf, Brassens, Francoise Hardy - the lyrics and music are as familiar to her as songs from her native country. But she understands that few others in the dorm feel the same.
Akihiko is frowning. "This is French, then?"
Mitsuru nods as she tries typing another sentence. "It's a beautiful language."
He shrugs. "I'm sure."
He's never had any foreign language classes aside from a little bit of English, but it's not like he's ever expressed any interest in traveling out of the country. Now, with Shinji's loss so fresh in both of their minds, she wonders what he will do after graduation. Where will he go? Where will he stay? Her thoughts upset her, and she saves the essay and minimizes the writing program. Shifting in her desk chair, she stares at him. Does he blame himself for encouraging Shinji to rejoin him? Why hadn't either of them seen the truth with Shinji and Amada sooner?
Piaf keeps singing, the recording an old one, ripped from a record her father had brought home from a business trip and converted to computer files by someone who owed him a favor. Mitsuru had grown up with a liking for old recordings, the scratching and popping making it all the more real to her. It was as if she were in Montmartre or the Champs-Elysees herself, sipping wine at an outdoor cafe. The music doesn't seem as pleasing to Akihiko's ears.
"He hated your music," Akihiko admits. "He said it made his ears bleed."
She grins, looking down. Aragaki wasn't Piaf's biggest fan. Maybe that's why she's listening to it, knowing how much it would annoy him. Maybe she still expects him to hit the second floor ceiling, thumping her floor to make her turn it off. Maybe she still wants him to be there to complain about it. "It's not like his music is any better..." She frowns over the present tense in her words, seeing Akihiko stiffen at it. "Should I turn it off?"
Akihiko considers her question for a few moments. "No, leave it on." His smile warms her heart – he's looked rather lost and cold since the other night. "What's this one about?"
She listens to Edith's voice, so rich and different from anything Japan has to offer. Mitsuru can almost picture Shinji rolling his eyes. The song is as old as her grandmother. "About a lost love," she explains. "Hoping to see them again."
Akihiko listens, but does not understand. Mitsuru closes her eyes, the recording sounding almost like something from a waking dream. "He'd call it cheesy," she adds.
"I think he'd have found a more colorful word," Akihiko decides.
"True."
The Piaf wafts from the computer speakers, lacking the emotional punch it might have coming from a record player. But Akihiko is lost in thought, and the music is probably affecting him at least on some level. Piaf's voice does that. Mitsuru wonders how much longer they'll skirt around Shinji's loss. Did Akihiko come to talk about memories? To talk about Amada? He doesn't look mournful, but she supposes everyone has their own way of dealing with loss. The only major loss Mitsuru's experienced is that of her grandfather – and the knowledge of what he'd given his life trying to achieve still twists her stomach.
When the song ends, something more recent comes up on the playlist, and Akihiko shifts on the couch. She turns the volume down and moves away from the computer. "Did you need to talk?" she asks, waiting patiently by the arm of the sofa for his answer.
He shakes his head. "Nah."
But he's hiding something. She can tell by the nervous tapping of his foot, the same antsy smirk he wears whenever he is counting down the hours until they can go to Tartarus for the night. "Then...?"
Akihiko rises, heading for the door of her room. "I'll be right back." She lets him go, and since he's left the door ajar, she can hear him jog down the stairs. Is he fetching something? Confused, she goes back to the computer and clicks the mouse on the Piaf song. The strings and piano start up, and Edith sings once more.
He returns halfway through the song, a plate of brownies in his hand. Nearly out of breath, he rushes back to her. "I thought you'd want one before Junpei ate them all."
She is curious, taking one from the plate in fear of disappointing him. "Where did you...?"
"Shinji made them," he tells her. "Before he..." Akihiko sighs. The thought of Aragaki taking the time to mess around in the kitchen before running off to face what he'd thought was inevitable is confusing to her, but Akihiko doesn't seem that shaken up about it. "Well, some people box, others bake I guess."
The brownie tastes better than she'd expected, and she and Akihiko share the last of them silently as the song finishes again. She smiles, wiping the crumbs gently from her lips. It's almost as though Shinji is with them. The Piaf reminds her. He is everywhere, so long as he is in their hearts.
–
A/N: Hearing the song and knowing Mitsuru's love of French, I couldn't avoid writing this one. You can find and listen to Tu Es Partout on YouTube. Highly recommended, even though it inspired this cheesy story. Sorry Shinji.