Tug Of War

By AliceUnknown

A/N: They called me "really short and underdeveloped" in school. For my writing, of course, not for...anyways.

They'd both found her precious, but there were certain extents to which they could never fully love her as an equal. They'd both realized, at some point, that she was far too good for them.

In his case, Tamako was far too sure of herself without even having to try. She wasn't scared of anything and had no reason to be. She was happy without having to overcome anything. And she was never awkward, never some geek who found it difficult to express himself and communicate what was really going on underneath the layer of a nervous boy. She never messed up. And above it all, even with how great she was, she always picked him, Mochizou, as a close friend. He would occasionally mull over this in bed, when sleep couldn't come, and wonder why.

In her case, Tamako was so innocent and pure and devoid of any darkness. She was pure light energy, and although Midori kept her close, she was afraid sometimes of getting too into Tamako and staining her. She festered this darkness deep inside of herself, and only felt like she could forget it existed when Tamako was near her, as if she was temporarily expelled of it. Midori, though very cheery, was in fact very sad. And filled to the brim with doubt, though she incessantly tried to vacuum-seal the lid on it. She just couldn't let Tamako be exposed to that.

There was no way they could share her, as it was too terrifying a thought for either of them to lose Tamako to another. Mochizou feared he'd find himself permanently weak in his knees, trembling without an honest, beaming girl for support, and Midori didn't know how long it would be afterwards until she overflowed. So, it happened that it had started out as a tug-of-war over her.

What neither of them had realized until a long while through their game was that, though their intent was to steadily inch up the rope to Tamako in the center, they'd come closer to each other in the process.

At first, it was almost like a prearranged, unspoken-but-mentally-agreed-upon schedule. Weekdays after school for an hour, Midori would be able to hang out with her (on top of already having Tamako in her class), leaving Tamako and Mochizou to leave from their extracurricular activities at the same time. After Mochizou would walk her home, they'd discuss homework through their cups and she would chat to him about class and activities. Saturdays, when Tamako wasn't working, Mochizou would secretly visit the shop, away from her dad's business-oriented eyes, and would check in with her, leaving Sundays available for Midori to steal her back for the afternoon.

The system they'd set up was not to be trifled with by the other party, as doing so would be considered an act of war. The prospect was interesting to them, but they knew that neither could handle any less time than they already had with her. Even threatening to take her away induced fear in the others eyes, fear that they both knew all too well.

There was one week when the Kitashirakawas went away on a family trip, leaving a gaping hole in both of their lives for the time being. To both of their surprise, they filled that hole with each other.

It was with great confusion that neither of them had found it awkward to communicate with the other. It started when Midori motioned Mochizou over during lunch with a, "Hey, nerd boy."

He half-scowled at her, but obliged. "What do you want, Tokiwa?"

She pursed her lips. "Y-You make mochi, right?"

He was puzzled at first, but quickly figured out where this was going. "Yeah. Why?"

Midori glanced to the side, somehow nervous by him staring at her. "I, uh, was wondering if you could teach me."

He thought she'd say that. He didn't know why, but for some reason, he expected that. But the question was, "Why don't you ask Tamako?"

"Stupid, it's for Tamako." She gave him an aggravated look when he reacted with bewilderment. "Her birthday is soon, and I thought she'd like nothing more than…well, mochi." Mochizou caught a look in Midori's big, emerald eyes that looked like she wanted to say more.

"And?" Mochizou replied, unusually to-the-point.

She still didn't meet his eyes. "I thought she'd like it if it came from both of us."

There was, of course, the initial immediate rejection of this. How could they team up together? Them? They were way too different. They were discretely fighting each other for the same goal that meant too much to them to lose. They were enemies.

But he knew that she was absolutely right. She was sharp, and clever enough to know how to get what she wanted. Unfortunately for her, she couldn't get that without his help. And, he guessed, he couldn't without her help either. She'd never cooked before in her life, he could tell, and he wasn't strong enough to directly give Tamako a present without giving up. So for once, they had to depend on each other.

Besides, Tamako really would love it.

And so, they went after school everyday to the Ooji residence, wherein Mochizou would teach Midori the basics of mochi making, and would even advance on to more decorative or cuter techniques and results. In return, Midori completely put aside her battle gear and let herself be happy and have fun with Mochizou. She teased him on how "cooking was for girls" and he'd flush and yell back at her. She would laugh at how easy it was to make him flustered, and he would admire her. And they found themselves talking about teachers and dramas and anime and school projects and upcoming festivals, and it was so easy that they'd forgotten it could ever be hard.

When Tamako arrived back, she had a beautiful batch of mochi and two very happy friends, who had learned to laugh from the heart without her again. She was, as one could predict, absolutely oblivious to that, but was overjoyed nonetheless.

Somehow after that, they found themselves not feeling competitive or scared. Life wasn't so scary to either of them, and even though they didn't feel any less intensely for Tamako, they had found one more person in their lives who could make them earnestly happy, which was worth the prospect of losing Tamako by a little bit. They'd hang out during school, and even on some weekends. The schedule wasn't so confined; they allowed one another to invade their Tamako-time. In the end, they both added more to it than they took away. And when they'd reached the middle of the tug-of-war rope, they found each other on the other side of Tamako. Which was not a bad thing to be close to, they decided.