Glasses(less) Fever
He couldn't remember when he had stopped paying attention to her glasses.
They were in the clubroom, reviewing the Literature Club's spring issue for the umpteenth time per Mitsuki's request.
"Just because we've been occupied lately doesn't mean you can shun your work. If we put it off, it'll just be more of a pain later." He could vaguely remember Mitsuki uttering something like that in her usual agitated tone when he had complained about the excess of work.
As Mitsuki mulled over the documents sprawled out before her, Mirai stood hunched over her shoulder intently, scanning the pages with concentrated intensity and nodding furiously whenever Mitsuki took the time to explain complicated pieces of prose.
Akihito half smiled at the scene from his position at the window, trying to suppress laughter. It was an amusing sight to behold. Mirai was taking her work much more seriously than necessary; the burning determination behind her red frames nearly resembled the gleam in her eyes when she was attacking a youmu.
He wondered if Mitsuki found Mirai's energy as ridiculous as himself. However, he figured she must have welcomed the change of pace. Ever since Mirai had broken down and allied with the Literature Club, Mitsuki's usually taught facial expressions had begun to relax a little. She smiled more. Laughed more. He was starting to see glimpses of Mitsuki's personality he wasn't aware had even existed prior.
Akihito averted his eyes from the two to glance down at Mirai's bonsai trees. The little row of neatly potted plants against the window sat directly below his field of vision. Their fronds shimmered in the sunlight and brought a warmth to the clubroom that it had certainly lacked before. Mirai would tend to each and every plant day in and day out with the utmost care, bustling to and fro and puffing her cheeks out in discontent whenever one of the pots was tipped over either by happenstance or by an unwelcome vagrant. Her unbridled enthusiasm flowed out of her luminous personality and seemed to seep out of every crack in the club room. Akihito felt his eyes soften as he gazed at the young trees. In her own way, Mirai had rejuvenated the Literature Club.
Suddenly he furrowed his brow in vexation. Why was he even thinking about this? Why was he dwelling on her little quirks and peculiarities instead of reveling in the glorious way those red rims shaped the soft curve of her face?
It's because Hiroomi isn't here, he reassured himself feebly, It's because he's not here to gush about his little sister complex that I can't focus properly. Only Hiroomi can comprehend the appeal of a girl in glasses! We've got to stick together!
Burning with a newfound conviction that this was an unarguable fact, Akihito began to become irrationally frustrated with Hiroomi for skipping out again today. He guessed he was simply off being his aloof self somewhere, but it had become increasingly uncommon for Hiroomi to ditch as of late.
"S-Senpai!" A small voice snapped Akihito out of his reverie. It was Mirai's. "M-Mitsuki-senpai demands that you stop thinking lewd thoughts and make yourself useful!"
Akihito sighed in exasperation. "Jeez, am I really that hopeless that I can't even stand harmlessly by a window without being accused of thinking disgraceful thoughts?"
Mitsuki passed him a brief, insulting glare. "A pervert and an idiot left alone to let his mind wander is truly a dangerous thing."
Akihito burdensomely complied and took a seat at the edge of the long table, where Mitsuki shoved him a daunting stack of papers without speaking a word. She continued to work avidly on her own stack with Mirai at hand, seeming to once again forget about his presence for the time being.
But instead of getting straight to work, he felt his eyes immobilize around Mirai's animated figure, staring fixedly at the back of her head and occasionally catching glimpses of her face beneath the untamed mass of her strawberry-hued hair. He'd never say it, but the way it complemented her fair-skinned complexion was really pretty. His eyes wandered lower, suddenly distracted by the rapid, erratic way she moved her hands when she spoke. He had never paid much attention to them before. Despite the added bulk to her right hand due to the bandage she wore, her hands were extremely small and slender. He wondered passingly if they were soft.
Akihito shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He wanted to stop looking at her, but his eyes wouldn't allow it. This was bad for his health. He felt his blood rise to his cheeks, and suddenly he had the intense desire to slam his fists onto the table or leave the room altogether.
Why? Why did he feel this way? Why did looking at her like this make his pulse skyrocket and simultaneously piss him off so much?
The words of the bespectacled beauty herself crept into his brain: "This is unpleasant."
"Don't tell me you have allergic reactions to paperwork?" Mitsuki sneered, raising an eyebrow at him in unamusement. "Or is something else on your mind?" He could have sworn he saw the faint trace of a knowing smile lingering on her lips.
Crap, she knows.
Contorting his face into his usual carefree expression took a measurable amount of effort.
"It's Mirai's fault," he countered. Technically he wasn't lying. "Her glasses are reflecting the light in such a radiant way that focusing is futile!"
He wanted to come up with a more clever response, but that was the best he could muster for now. His brain felt like scrambled eggs.
"So you were thinking lewd thoughts after all, Senpai!" Mirai exclaimed, staring straight at him, her face now glowing rosy red in embarrassment. Akihito felt that strange, pounding agitation in his veins once more. His stomach flip flopped nervously, and for a moment he felt like he was going to be sick.
Mitsuki responded before he could retort, her voice suddenly taking on a strangely serious edge. "Go home, Kanbara-kun. You look unwell. We'd get a bad reputation if you were to dirty the club room with vomit."
"Huh? But-"
"Don't worry about it. Kuriyama-san and I have accomplished more than enough for the day."
He decided not to question her. He did want to leave after all; he wanted a chance to be alone for a little while to sort out this confusing mess of thoughts.
As he stood up to take his leave, Akihito was met with Mirai's bewildered expression, her amber eyes wrought with genuine concern.
He hesitated. "Ah- I, catch you later Kuriyama-san!"
He hastened out the door, too embarrassed to wait around and see the repercussions. Why was he acting so strangely? He had never been the type of guy to let his emotions get the better of him like this. For the most part, he saw himself as pretty laid back.
Oh well. He was already halfway down the hallway; it was too late to worry about it now. He promised himself he'd make it up to Mirai tomorrow.
"Senpai!"
Mirai? She was following him?!
Akihito braced himself instinctively; the last time she had pursued him like this it had ended with her impaling him.
But, he supposed, they had come a long way since then.
"Please wait!" she demanded as she caught up to him, her voice feeble and breathless. Akihito never forgot about her anemia. Occasionally, even the smallest act of physical exertion could wear her out if she had been expending a lot of blood recently. "I was being ignorant - I had no idea you were sick! If you really are ill, at least let me walk you home for once!"
Akihito kept his eyes straight ahead. Escaping the rising feeling of disequilibrium and anxiety had been his only priority, yet now the instigator of his unrest stood directly at his heels. Somehow, though, the draw he felt towards Mirai's presence outweighed the desire to flee.
"Didn't your mother ever tell you it's dangerous to accompany a guy with a glasses fetish to his house?" And then he whirled around to face her suddenly, twisting his face up into a snarl and clawing the air menacingly.
Mirai jumped a bit in surprise, her pink hair bobbing up erratically as if to match the alarmed expression on her face. Her lips curled into a dissatisfied frown and she balled her hands into fists at her sides. "Stop being so unpleasant, Kanbara-senpai! You can get arrested for saying such lecherous things!"
"You say that as if I can resist the charms of a girl who looks so good in glasses!"
"Stop being gross, Senpai, and focus on yourself!" With those damning words, Mirai appeared at his side - without seeking permission she had fixated herself on attempting to remove the bookbag strap on his shoulder, a calculated determination fierce in her eyes.
Akihito sucked in his breath. She was touching him. She was actually touching him. Not to mention, her face was relatively close to his own. Close enough that he could probably count each individual eyelash and memorize the way her lips parted when she breathed.
A shiver ran down his spine. The light way her fingers pried against his shoulder tickled.
"What are you doing?" He managed to regulate the excitement in his voice that threatened to betray him.
"You shouldn't have to carry a heavy load if you're ill!" Mirai spoke this with conviction, but her brows quickly furrowed in confusion. "Um, what kind of illnesses do half-youmu contract anyway?"
"Hmm, good question! I suppose this is an illness pretty foreign to half-youmu. Maybe..." he lost himself in a moment of brief concentration, "glasses fever?" Or lack thereof, he thought to himself, quietly fuming.
Instead of retorting, Mirai forced the bag off his shoulder with effort, her small frame nearly doubling over under its weight. She struggled to maintain her balance.
"Hey!" Akihito's usual air of nonchalance faded instantly, replaced with immediate concern for Mirai and guilt because she was actually worried about his health. Seeing her in any form of pain sent pangs of horror throughout his entire body, no matter how small. Overprotective as it may be, he saw it as his duty to look after the tiny warrior as her sworn bodyguard of sorts. Now, however, he suspected his motives were even more complex. "Don't be an idiot! I'm not ailing so much that I can't pull my own weight!" He stooped down to grab her hand and pull her upright, snatching his bag from her in the process. "Don't forget that throwing bloody weapons of death around on a daily basis doesn't exactly contribute to being an able-bodied human being."
Mirai cast her face down at the ground. "So its apparent that I'm unusual even when I'm just doing everyday tasks. I suck at this."
"Actually, I think you'd be abnormal if you could lift this thing!" Akihito exclaimed, quick to dispel her negative thoughts. "I have every textbook since first year in here, not to mention my wide collection of various unreturned library books!"
It worked. "You stole them?!"
He shrugged. "There are worse things."
"B-but Senpai! You're a criminal!" She gave him a look filled with such ambivalence and worry that he wondered if she was going to cry. Interestingly, her face betrayed that she was more concerned with how his criminal record may affect him than the fact that he had actually stolen something. She'd probably never admit it, though. She had a way of talking in circles and saying things she didn't mean that Akihito understood all too well. Perhaps it was because Mirai had spent the majority of her life alone, being shunned wherever she went, that she eventually began to push her emotions aside to the point of denying her own identity. Though their circumstances were different in many ways, Akihito couldn't help but feel a strong connection to her.
At last, he understood his intense to desire to shield her from harm. He looked after her almost as an extension of himself.
"Well, my bespectacled beauty, are you going to walk this criminal home or not?"
Even though she sighed in exasperation, Mirai's face brightened considerably and she joined him by his side as they began the trek to Akihito's home.
They spent the walk home in relative quiet, Akihito breaking the silence every once in awhile to tease the pint sized girl, and Mirai never straying too far from his side despite her stream of incessant complaints. The sun had already begun its descent, elongating the shadows and casting a warm glow on the pavement. Akihito didn't make a habit of admitting such things, but he felt genuinely happy. His earlier feelings of discontent and tension had been replaced with a sense of calm. He wished he could pass hours or even days like this - doing ordinary, everyday things with Mirai without having to deal with the burdens of the Spirit World or youmu or anything inbetween. It puzzled him greatly, but he realized one thing for certain: glasses or not, Akihito simply enjoyed Mirai's presence.
Of course, that isn't to say Akihito never realized Mirai's value as a person sans glasses, but he had never really thought of a girl in that way without spectacles being involved in some fashion. Wait a second. Could he be...?
"Senpai? Do you plan to keep walking until you fall into the ocean? Isn't this your house?"
Akihito stopped short. How could he have neglected to notice that Mirai no longer accompanied him? He craned his head around, where Mirai stood yards back directly in front of his home. After an awkward pause, he put himself in reverse and walked backwards, stretching his arms out horizontally in an attempt to mimic the movements of an airplane. He came to a stop straight in front of her and lowered his arms slowly.
"What was that?" Mirai asked in a deadpan.
"I miscalculated the speed and velocity required to land successfully. I had to throw it in reverse, or I might have never made it here on time."
Mirai didn't answer. She looked at him with a mixture of disappointment and pity. Her cheeks ballooned. "You need to go to bed, Senpai."
"I'm hurt by how little faith you place in me, Kuriyama-san! That was a bold feat!"
She stood on her tiptoes to shout at it him, her glasses sliding down to the tip of her mousy nose. "There's nothing bold about forgetting where you live! Just go inside before they check you into a ward!"
Mirai had become visibly frustrated with him. Akihito had only been messing with her, but all this time she had been honestly convinced that he was ill. He felt a little guilty about it, but had kept silent so long that by now he thought it better to keep quiet than try and explain himself. What would he say, anyway? I'm upset because I find you extremely attractive even without those stupendous glasses of yours. You make me feel self conscious and light headed and you invade my thoughts way too much.
He inhaled sharply. Without even meaning to he had discovered the root cause for his abnormal behavior. It should have been super obvious all along - why was he just now admitting it to himself?
However, there was only one way he could be absolutely sure.
"Kanbara-senpai? Are you ok?" Mirai had gotten closer to his face in an attempt to help him, amber eyes shimmering with concern and pouty lips quivering ever so slightly. Akihito felt his heart begin to hammer rapidly inside his chest. Was it even possible for someone to be this adorable?
"Kuriyama-san," he spoke steadily this time, staring directly at her with newfound purpose. He placed each hand firmly on her shoulders, ensuring her eyes would remain on his. "I need to test something on you."
Mirai shifted uncomfortably, eyes flitting rapidly to each of his hands. "I-I desire to be no subject of any test of a creepy senpai with a thing for glasses!"
"No, listen - it will help me discover what illness I've contracted. I have a hypothesis. But I need you to help me test it."
"E-eh?" Mirai teetered on her feet uncomfortably, completely bewildered and unsure of how to process what Akihito was requesting. "I-if you insist. If this will help you get better, Kanbara-senpai, then I'll do it."
Akihito smiled softly at her. He felt an immediate rush of blood rising to his cheeks and for a moment he strongly considered coming up with some vague excuse and pretending he had never thought of doing something so ridiculous. But this was his chance; he might never understand the depths of his feelings if he didn't take full advantage of the situation at hand. He took a deep breath and moved his trembling hand to the bridge of her red bifocals; his hand stopped to linger there for a moment, hesitating, before he finally removed them and stuck them haphazardly in his jacket pocket.
Mirai hadn't moved a muscle. She only gazed at him in stunned silence, doe eyes widening in confusion. The last rays of sunlight hitting her gave her hair a rosy glow, complemented by the matching blush lightly staining her cheeks.
It's just as I thought, Akihito mused to himself, she's pretty even without her glasses.
He removed a hand from her shoulder and placed it under her chin, tilting her face up towards his own. To be honest, his experience in this area was very limited and also none. Whatever he knew he knew only from watching various romantic dramas and reading novels, and he doubted that they were any kind of manual to learn from. Nonetheless, Akihito gathered every ounce of his courage and stooped downward to ever so carefully place his lips on Mirai's.
His heart fluttered uncontrollably. He couldn't believe he was actually doing this. But any feelings of regret he might have had were snuffed out by the taste of her lips against his; sweet, poignant, and reminiscent of fruity bubble gum. Kissing her felt freeing - like something he wished he had done a long time ago. He brushed a clump of strawberry hair behind her ear before he slowly pulled away. Surprisingly, she hadn't retaliated in the brief moments their lips had met - in fact it even seemed like her lips had yielded willingly to his - but now he braced himself for the worse.
Akihito straightened out and closed his eyes. He already knew exactly what was coming:
"H-h-h-how unpleasant!"
Nailed it.
When he was able to abandon his shame enough to open his eyes, he was met with the sight of Mirai frantically wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her cardigan. "Wh-what were you thinking? What kind of test was that? How vile! You really are a pervert, senpai!"
"Then why didn't you just shove me away?" He inquired quizzically, though on the inside he felt ashamed and disappointed that she hadn't returned the gesture.
"I-I..." She struggled to find her words. "I was overpowered! B-besides, I can't make a fuss out in the open like this!" She winced her eyes shut. Akihito glanced down and noticed her legs were trembling violently. Perhaps it had been wrong of him to take her off guard the way he had. However, her sheepish stuttering caused him to suspect that she wasn't telling the whole truth.
He slumped his shoulders and turned around, feigning dejection, and began to head for the door. "It turns out I'm only sick with a permanent case of stupidity, Kuriyama-san. I'm sorry to worry you."
Just as he was about to open the door and disappear into the confines of his house, Mirai bolted after him with a sudden burst of speed.
"Wait!" she demanded frantically, "you forgot to return my glasses!"
"Oh," he dug his hands into his jacket pocket to fetch them, "Here they-"
Akihito found himself slammed against the door before he could process what was happening. Mirai's lips were crushing his own fiercely, her face filling every corner of his vision, hair tickling his face. Her body molded to his, closing the distance Akihito maintained the first time he had warily kissed her. To say he was surprised was an understatement; he had never expected her to return his feelings so easily, and with such eager intensity. Honestly, though, it could probably not be classified in the "perfect romantic kiss" category. Akihito could feel through every trembling inch of her body that she was nervous, flighty, and relatively unsure of herself. The way she held his arms steadfast to the door made him feel more like he was being held hostage than kissed in a romantic fit of passion. Their lips fumbled together awkwardly, Mirai's breath hitching so often and so fast that Akihito wondered if her face would turn blue and she'd explode into a glasses-less cloud. Still, he relished in every second of it - after all, it wasn't like he knew how to do it any better himself. Her breath hot on his face combined with her petite frame entangled in his flooded Akihito with a warmth that seemed to extend to his entire body.
When Mirai finally pulled away her breaths came wheezy and heavy, her face and hair in a state of noticeable dishevelment. Akihito observed that the scarlet shade her face had acquired made her pink hair pale in comparison.
She didn't wait around or give him a chance to respond. Her eyes merely flitted up towards his momentarily, filled with terror and embarrassment. She released her deadly grasp on his arms and yanked the glasses he still held out of his hand, and quickly turned to rush out of his range of reach.
"S-see you tomorrow s-s-s-senpai!" she stopped momentarily to hastily wipe the smudged lenses of her glasses. "I-I hope your illness h-has been rightly diagnosed!"
And with that last nondescript statement, Mirai was gone, already merely a pink blur disappearing over the edge of a darkening horizon.
Akihito slumped back against the door, trying his hardest to comprehend all that had just happened. He noticed he had been wearing a large, stupid grin on his face for longer than he realized. Soon he was already laughing uncontrollably at the memory of Mirai tripping over herself as she had made her escape.
Well, she was right: his illness had been diagnosed. And it wasn't just any illness - this one was chronic. Akihito was in love with Mirai Kuriyama.