Mornings with you.
(one/when they are sixteen)
Yoshioka Futaba likes morning walks. She likes the feeling of the cool morning breeze brushing against her face, the cheery "ohayo gozaimasu!" the neighborhood pre-school kids say to each other, the fresh smell in the air. She likes leaning against the rails on the bridge halfway on the route to school, bird-watching, and sometimes people-watching. Waiting, quietly waiting. But most of all, she thinks, she likes the part of the walk when he arrives.
He's late again, doing that silly (but really, ridiculously adorable) messy bed-hair thing he does when he's stayed up the previous night rushing out his homework, a half-eaten toast stuffed into his mouth. "Hey," he says, "sorry, overslept today."
"That's okay." She smiles, and they walk. She once read somewhere, that you know you're really close to somebody when silence starts to become comfortable. She thinks they have that, that special kind of silence, the kind of wordless communication. He takes a little peek at her then, seeming to notice the new lipstick she's wearing (she chose it for him, you see, because he told her he was starting to like pink, the kind that's the shade of the sakura in the trees right now), and she catches him in the act.
He darts his eyes away quickly, thinking – oh crap, did she just catch me staring at her lips? I'm such a creep – and sheepishly tries to brush down his hair. She lets a smile creep up onto her face, and she turns away, taking in a slow, deep breath. She likes these wordless conversations they have everyday.
They're getting closer to school now, the nearby mall coming into sight. She likes this part of the walk too, of course, because it's like a walk down memory lane. There – the taiyaki shop they had visited on one of their after-school detours (Kou had even said it was his first time trying it with red bean, the hopeless boy), the mall where they had bought their couple rings (hers now safely strung on a silver chain, tucked beneath the collar of her shirt), the French restaurant that they had accidently walked into – resulting in a disaster of a food palette and an equally shocking bill (he had unintentionally ordered snails and some weird kind of liver). But her favorite place was the shrine where they had first spoken. It was where everything started, and where everything had changed. It was where she had fallen in love.
He seems to be reminiscing about it too, because his fingers slowly inch towards hers, touching and then intertwining, because this – these feelings and memories – are so real and precious.
She knows that they are probably going to be late for school, and he knows it too. But they both continue, in an unspoken agreement, their easy pace towards school hand in hand, heart to heart, longing for the moment to last forever.
When they finally do reach, she sighs at how they're in different classes this year, and thinks about how much she misses sitting behind him at that window seat. At the corridor between his classroom and hers, he dives in for a quick kiss right on the lips, and then cheekily disappears into his homeroom, leaving her all flustered and blushing. There's no doubt what she will be thinking about through the entire of first period.
(two/when they are twenty-six)
Yoshioka Futaba likes mornings at home. She likes waking up beside him, arms and legs wrapping around one another and smelling his unique scent, burying her face in his warmth. She likes the lazy "ohayo" passed between the two of them, as he turns around to plant a good morning kiss on her forehead, their daily routine.
She gets up to make coffee for two (milk and sugar for her, and black for him) while he sleepily gets ready for work. By the time she's got those pancakes done, he emerges from the room looking like he'd just been thrown into a tornado, hair poking out in all directions, and she bursts out into hearty laughter. Looks like trying to tame it didn't work again today.
He snorts as they both take their places at the dining table, reading the morning newspaper while sipping bitter coffee while she turns on the radio. "Today's weather forecast – it may rain heavily later on in the day, so do remember to bring an umbrella!"
She perks up at this, because- "You can finally use the new umbrella I bought for you!" He grimaces at her excited expression and glances at the flowery, kitten-printed umbrella lying against the front door – no doubt his co-workers will tease him for that for an entire month.
She ties his tie for him, and packs him his bento (light curry and heart-shaped onigiri) for the day, and lets her fingers linger around his. He bends down for a kiss on her lips, and they stay like this for awhile, longing for the moment to last. Then he breaks away, and reluctantly, again, steps out of the house. "Ittekimasu." He says. "Itterashai." Is her reply.
Yoshioka Futaba likes mornings. She likes the sights, the smells and the sounds of the early day. She likes the scenery, the feelings and the memories that come along with it.
But most of all, she likes that mornings are always spent with her favorite person in the world.
Mornings with you.
a/n. Hi again! I'm back with another aoharuride fic, this time on Kou and Futaba, another pairing I absolutely adore. It's a new kind of drabbley-style for me I guess, so I hope this wasn't too boring to read! I like to imagine how these two will be like when they're older and married, because that's definitely a future I can see for them. I might be writing another one that's less light-hearted maybe, something more similar to my usual style of hurt/comfort… but for now, I'd like to enjoy the happy lovely feels these two have given to me.