A/N: This is a sequel story to "Living Water" that was requested by LittleSwimmerGirl, and is a belated birthday gift fic for her. She's a talented writer with a great Rin/OC story that you all should definitely check out, if you haven't already.
I strongly recommend reading "Living Water" before the story below, otherwise a lot of things won't make sense.
For returning readers, here's a little game! Find all the subtle (and not so subtle) water references in this story. Have fun!
Sapphire Eyes
Haruka had known, even before he started dating Christine, that she was different from most girls. There was that peculiar way in which she never got angry. There was that tendency of hers to believe anything that anyone said, even if it sounded outrageous. There was her knack for playfully quoting the Bible without sounding trite. Even so, there were still certain quirks that caught him by surprise once they started dating.
"Don't buy me presents," she ordered him sternly, right before their first Christmas together.
"Why?" he questioned.
"People always stress out trying to make the holidays a special time with the people they love," she explained. "But everyday is special with you. There's no point in making a big deal over one day more than any other."
She said the same thing when Valentine's Day rolled by.
"I love you everyday," she said cheerily. "Why choose a specific day to celebrate that?"
When her birthday finally came about, Haruka implored her to make an exception.
"For the one day that no one else in the world cares about?" she laughed. "How selfish would I be?"
So with each passing season, Haruka found loopholes around her request. He would give her gifts a few days before or after her birthday. On holidays he would refrain from giving her a physical gift, but instead coax her into attending a grand trip or other event. On some occasions Christine would genuinely forget what the date was and happily receive whatever he had planned. Other times, she caught on to what he was doing.
"Oy," she said to him one year during the month of her birthday. "Since I know I won't be able to change your mind...there's just one thing. Don't buy me jewelry."
"Why?" he asked again.
"It's expensive," she reasoned. "And you don't have to buy my love with exorbitant tokens of affection. Besides," she grinned widely, "The sapphire of your eyes is the only jewel that I'll ever need."
He bought her a car.
"What the—!" She dropped everything she was carrying when she saw it. "How did…what…Haru!"
"You said you didn't want jewelry," he stated, expressionless as usual.
"Because it's expensive!" she cried. "How did you even afford this? No, I can't—"
"You forget that I'm not a broke college student anymore," he reminded her. He had graduated a year ago. "And also, it's a used car. Since I knew you'd make me return or sell it otherwise."
She stared at the vehicle for a good minute, speechless.
"You could use a car," he pointed out. "Since you're graduating soon and your old one got wrecked." After another beat, he asked tentatively, "Are you mad?"
Suddenly, she started to laugh.
"Have you ever seen me mad?" she responded happily, putting her arms around him.
"No," he said truthfully.
She smiled. "Thank you, Haru," she told him sincerely. "But I see I have to revise my instructions for next time. Don't get me anything expensive."
So as months turned into years, Haruka begrudgingly complied with her request. They got in the habit of giving sporadic trinkets to each other from time to time, regardless of the date or the season. They were almost always small and inexpensive, and no doubt other girls looked upon Christine's paltry accumulation of gifts from him with contempt. She wasn't one to boast over the more lavish things he had bestowed on her from before. But Haruka didn't complain. This would, after all, help him to save up for a far bigger and valuable "trinket" of sorts in the future. For the most part, he planned to obey Christine's rule against giving jewelry. But he was planning to break that rule—just once.
Technically speaking, Haruka had never seen his girlfriend get angry. As he observed her through the years, he noticed that under certain, rare circumstances, a momentary shadow of potential anger would flit through her eyes. It was as though she would see the opportunity to get angry, observe it briefly like it was an exotic animal, and then let it go. It reminded Haruka of the way water poured through a sieve.
The first time he ever saw this happen was on the day her car got totaled.
They had been meeting up during their lunch break. Christine was still in school at the time, while he was struggling to adjust to working in the real world. She had driven a few miles to meet up with him at their favorite café. As they were returning to the parking lot after lunch, Christine had been chattering away about, ironically, selling her car.
"I just can't keep up with the insurance payments anymore," she was saying. "Not while I'm still in school and don't have a job. It's not like I really need a car right now anyway. Everything essential is right by campus…except for you. But you aren't far, and I don't mind walking or biking."
"I'd drive to you," he said.
She smiled at him happily. "Then what need have I for a car?" she said jovially, as they approached their vehicles. "I have everything I could possibly—"
She was interrupted by the squeal of a car's tires as it slammed on its brakes, to no avail, and slammed into hers.
Christine's unfinished sentence hung in the air as her jaw dropped. Haruka, too, suspected that his expression wasn't as stoic as it normally was.
The offending vehicle was slick and shiny, and spoke of careless wealth. It had not been damaged much, but Christine's car, old and plain, had crumpled like tin foil from the impact. There was the sound of several shouted curses from inside the other car.
Even then, Haruka had noticed that his girlfriend was more shocked than angry. It wasn't until the other car had backed away from the wreck—and then hastily sped out of the parking lot—that her expression slowly started to change.
She gaped after the disappearing automobile, then slowly turned to the metal heap that had been her car. He saw it then, that unfamiliar shadow passing through her eyes. Putting a hand on her shoulder, he waited for her to scream some obscenities, throw a tantrum, or kick the ground. But she just stared somberly at the wrecked vehicle. Finally, she passed a shaky hand over her eyes and gave a tight smile.
"Good thing I have that insurance, eh?" she managed to grit out.
"We should call the police," said Haruka. "Did you see their license plate number?"
"Yes, I suppose so," she said, but frowned. He knew that if there was one thing she didn't like doing, it was making accusations against others. Even when they were rightly deserved.
"We'll have to report it," he pressed.
She sighed and kneeled down to inspect the rear of her car. "You know," she began, "I needed to get rid of it anyway…"
"Christine," he said sternly. He knew what she was thinking. Probably a Jesus quote.
Granted, he had done the same thing years ago when his then-roommate had broken his Xbox, and instead of strangling him for it like he wanted to do, he had thought of Christine and her gentle, forgiving nature. But that was an Xbox. This was a car.
"I still have full coverage," she protested. "My insurance would cover it anyway. Who knows if his even could?"
"Did you see how expensive his car looked?" he countered. "Of course his could cover it."
"Maybe he's been in wrecks before and another one would skyrocket his insurance rates," she persisted. "I just don't see the point of making trouble for anyone when I don't even need the car anymore."
"If he's been in wrecks before, then he shouldn't get away with causing another one," said Haruka tiredly.
Though the two of them never fought or had real arguments like other couples, they certainly had their disagreements when it came to things like this. Haruka had to concur with Christine's friend Rose. His girlfriend could be a real doormat sometimes.
She gave him a wry smile. "Let him pay with his guilty conscience then." Standing up, she added sardonically, "Maybe it will even make him come back and apologize."
Haruka opened his mouth to reject this, but was interrupted by the sound of approaching tires. They both looked up, and gawked in surprise to see the same car from before, screeching to a halt before them.
From inside came the muffled sound of arguing voices. A young woman exited the passenger side, still yelling something to the driver.
"Get out, idiot," she snapped at him, then turned and hurried over to Christine and Haruka. "I'm so sorry," she said to them, "My boyfriend is an ass. I had to make him turn around and come back." She turned and shouted back at the car, "Get OVER here, David! Right now!" Turning back to them, she gestured towards the wrecked vehicle. "This car belong to one of you?"
Christine, still looking stunned, slowly raised a hand.
The other woman looked apologetic. "I'm so sorry, sweetie," she said. Her eyes hardened. "I'll make sure David pays you back tenfold."
David was approaching now, looking nervous and defensive. His hair was slicked back with too much gel, and his clothes labeled him as one who was spoiled by the luxuries of life without having to work for them. He was young, too; both him and the other woman looked only a few years older than Haruka and Christine. Haruka glared at him.
David stared back defiantly. "Did you call the cops already?" he asked, clearly ready to put up a good argument.
"Would serve you right if she did," the other woman huffed. Haruka couldn't agree with her more.
"No, I didn't," said Christine. "I wasn't going to."
David faltered then, as though he had pepped himself up for a fight but just had the wind taken out of his sails by her simple statement. "Oh," he said lamely. "I'll…well…I'll pay you for…this," he gestured pathetically at the wreck. "No need to get insurance companies involved." With that, he whipped out a checkbook and scribbled something down. Signing it with a flourish, he started to hand it over.
The other woman was stilling eyeing him. "And?" she prompted. "What else?"
He looked at her blankly. "What?" he asked. Withdrawing his hand, he looked at the check again with some scrutiny. After a moment of thought, he lifted his pen and added something else to it. "There," he said. "Happy?" He handed the check to Christine. "Just put in your name there," he told her, clearly thinking himself generous.
His girlfriend smacked him upside the head.
"Ow!" he cried. "What was that for?"
"You're such a child," she berated, rolling her eyes. "What do you say, David?"
He continued to stare at her with a vacant expression until, slowly, understanding formed in his eyes. "Oh." He turned to Christine, looking as reluctant as a child dragged to the dentist. "S-sorry," he mumbled. "About…" He gestured vaguely. "Yeah."
Christine gave him a genuine smile. "It's okay. Thanks for coming back."
It wasn't until David had been dragged away by his girlfriend and their car had sped out of the lot, that Haruka and Christine bent their heads together to look at the check. Their eyes widened simultaneously at the number.
"So…" began Haruka slowly. "I guess you don't need to sell your car anymore?"
"Are you kidding?" said Christine. "Who needs that piece of junk? We're splitting this, by the way," she added, indicating the check.
"What?" He shook his head. "No, you could use that to get a new car—"
"I don't need a new car," she interrupted. "But you need to put down a deposit soon, don't you?" He started to protest, but she went in for a kiss to cut off any forthcoming argument. "Besides," she drew back, "You were here to witness this stroke of good fortune, so we split the treasure."
He was still dazed by everything that had just happened. "What are you going to do with your half?" was all he could think to say.
"I'm putting this," she held up the check, "In a savings account for when I graduate. And I'm selling that," she pointed at the wrecked car, "To the junkyard for parts." She grinned then, and added gleefully, "My cup runneth over!"
One time, Haruka questioned Christine about her unusual lack of negative emotion.
"That's calling the kettle black, don't you think?" She gave him a playful nudge.
"I've gotten angry before," he responded, thinking back to the fallouts he had had with Rin and the one time he had fought with Makoto.
She shrugged and said dismissively, "I've been blessed with a pretty charmed life. There wasn't much to get angry about, for the most part."
Haruka was intrigued by the 'for the most part' part, but decided not to press the issue.
He had to admit that Christine did seem to live a rather charmed life. The more time he spent around her, the more it seemed to be so. Negative situations appeared to bounce off of her like pebbles skipping across the surface of a pond. He wondered if it was because of her friendliness and charm that just made everyone around her ease up some.
When he voiced this theory to her, her reply neither denied nor confirmed his thoughts. "Coincidences are just blessings shrouded in a veil of worldly logic," she said to him. "The world likes to explain them away with some sort of rationale. So I'll just settle with saying that my life is blessed with a lot of coincidences."
One of those coincidences, apparently, had been him.
"You know," she said to him one summer day at the beach, as they stood in the ocean together, "When I was a little girl, I once asked my grandpa how I would know which man to fall in love with when I grew up. He laughed and said to me, 'If you trust in God, He'll let you know who the one is.' I thought he meant that if I asked God right then and there, He would tell me. So I scrunched up my eyes and said a little prayer, and then I opened my eyes again and said to him, 'I think God is saying that He will give me a nice man with eyes as blue as sapphires.' My grandpa laughed at me some more and said, 'Well, when God promises something, He never lies!'"
"It seems you were clairvoyant as a child," Haruka said, as the waves bobbed the two of them up and down.
She chuckled. "I said a lot of strange things back then."
"You still do."
She splashed some water at him. "This is coming from the guy who coined the phrase, 'The water is alive.'"
"Oh? After meeting you, I was made to understand that Jesus came up with that concept first."
She replied dryly, "Thus saith the Lord, 'The water is alive.' Yeah…I think not."
"So maybe I paraphrased a bit," he conceded.
She laughed and they floated in comfortable silence for a while, the waves lapping against them as they watched the horizon together. Haruka mused over the story she had just told. Although Christine had no qualms speaking about things of faith to a certain degree, he had begun to notice that this happened only under one of two circumstances: academic textbook discussions (such as when they were classmates), or playful banter. She always seemed uncomfortable sharing her more personal experiences on the matter. This story was the closest that she had come to doing so, and even then it had been carefully laced with a certain, inoffensive charm. He found this rather curious.
"You still ask him things, don't you?" he said.
"Who?" she questioned.
"God. I see you talking sometimes, to no one in particular. When you're thinking over something, or about to make a decision."
She looked startled for a moment, then guilty. "Oh. I was just going to let you think I was talking to myself."
"People who talk to themselves look different," he pointed out.
She gave a nervous laugh. "Well aren't you keen. What do you mean by that?"
"You look like you're having an actual conversation. I see you get this look on your face like you've heard a response, and then you smile or you nod."
Christine now wore the expression of a child who had been caught stealing cookies.
Haruka knew that there were people who didn't agree with the way his girlfriend tended to think. He knew that there were those who didn't appreciate her carefree attitude, or who didn't believe in the genuineness of her childlike optimism. He knew that she knew this too, and he had noticed how she was always careful not to step on anyone's toes over it. But he was also starting to realize that he never wanted her to feel like she had to censor or hide any part of herself from him.
A few tendrils of Christine's hair swirled through the water and caressed his shoulder. Reaching out for her hand, he intertwined her fingers with his.
"Does He answer back?" he inquired casually.
She searched his face for a moment, as though to see if he might be mocking her. Finally, slowly, another playful smile lit up her face.
"Well, He did, didn't He?" she replied cheekily, reaching over and lifting a strand of black hair out of his eyes. "I'm staring into sapphire eyes as we speak."
"How do you hear Him?" he asked, leaning into her touch.
Her hand stilled against his cheek as she hesitated. "In…many different ways," she said slowly, looking down into the water. "In thoughts that I'd never think on my own, in unusual circumstances that get placed into my life, in words or pictures that get dropped into my head."
"Pictures?"
"Yes, that one used to happen the most. I guess it's because I'm a visual learner, like you." She laughed a little. "Parents give their kids picture books before they learn to read, don't they?"
He thought this over. "How did you hear before, with your grandpa when you were little?"
She sobered a bit, looking self-conscious. "I don't think I understood it myself back then," she said slowly. "But from what I remember, I closed my eyes and asked, and in my head I just saw…blue. A sea of blue, the exact color of your eyes. And I'm not sure how my kid brain managed to translate that, but it's like I got this sudden understanding and I just knew." A fond smile played across her lips as she remembered something else. "My grandpa though, he's more of a words kind of guy. He says that when God speaks to him it's like poetry."
"This also happens to your grandpa?"
She looked uncomfortable again. "I'm not a special case," she told him quietly. "From what I understand, anyone who asks can hear. You just have to learn how to listen."
He considered this. "So your parents do too, then?"
"Sometimes, but not as often," she replied. "But it's not because they're…I don't know…less special, or anything. I feel like I'm in a similar place as them now; I don't hear as well as I did when I was little. Maybe it's because as we get older, we get caught up in things of the world and it distracts us from hearing that 'still small voice,' or whatever. And it's not until we get really old and things start to quiet down again, that we start to hear with the same clarity we had as children." She shrugged. "That's what my grandpa says, anyway." Seeming suddenly insecure, she gave him an inquisitive look. "Do you think I'm crazy now?"
Haruka had once heard that it was imperative to make a woman feel like you empathized with her.
"I talk to water sometimes," he said truthfully. "Do you think I'm crazy?"
She laughed long and hard at that. "I see you understand perfectly," she said at last, putting her arms around him. "When you love someone, you always want to talk to them…no matter how crazy it makes you look."
The second time Haruka ever saw a shadow of anger pass through Christine's eyes was on the day he met her grandfather.
The old man had been in the hospital for over a month. Christine's parents had called her and urged her to take the flight down to Florida where he was, to see him for what might be the last time.
She looked surprised when Haruka agreed to come along.
"You don't have to," she said, averting her gaze. "I didn't mean to make you feel…obligated, or anything. You're just welcome to come along and meet him, if you would like."
"I would," he assured her. He knew how close she was with her grandfather, and wanted to be there for her.
Standing over the hospital bed a week later, Haruka was surprised to find a man who was not bemoaning death as he had expected.
"Chrissy!" cried the old man weakly, his voice as delicate as crinkled paper and yet filled with a strong joy when he saw his granddaughter.
"Hi grandpa." She grasped his outstretched hand and gave him a big smile. "This is Haruka. I've told you about him over the phone, remember?"
Her grandfather slowly turned his gaze towards Haruka. Though the old man looked frail, a lively twinkle filled his eye. "Ah," he said, shakily extending his hand out to Haruka, who gently grasped it and shook it. "You've got sapphire eyes," he wheezed, in what must have been light laughter. "Just like little Chrissy said you would."
"Pleased to meet you sir," Haruka told him.
The old man patted him on the hand and gave him a warm smile. "Joe and Maria love you, you know," he said, speaking of Christine's parents. "I'm so glad I finally got to meet you myself."
They spent the rest of the afternoon quietly conversing, with Christine and her grandfather reminiscing over past memories. At times the old man would have a momentary coughing fit, and as Haruka and Christine both reached out to steady him, Haruka could see Christine's eyes cloud over with worry. Her grandfather noticed too.
"Chrissy," he said, taking her hand in his, "Don't you worry about me. I'm going to be seeing your grandma again, real soon. And that makes me feel happier than I can say. So won't you be happy for me, too? I know you'll miss me when it's time for me to go, but it's never goodbye forever."
Haruka had never seen someone so utterly at peace with the prospect of death. Even as the old man wheezed and coughed, even as his wrinkled hands shook each time he reached out, his eyes did not cease to shine with a quiet, persistent joy. Haruka recognized that look. It was the same radiance that he saw every time he looked into Christine's eyes.
"I know, grandpa," Christine said, and she gave a brave smile even though her eyes were moist. "I know."
Even then, as a few stray tears rolled down her cheek, Haruka could see no bitterness in her, no resentment towards fate for shortening the time between her and her beloved grandfather. It wasn't until they had departed from the ward, walking down the hall towards the elevator, that he witnessed something shake her composure.
A voice from behind interrupted them. "Christine?"
She turned, and her eyes widened. "Judy?"
A girl who looked to be around the same age as Christine, and distantly related to her, stared back at them. "You came to see grandpa?"
"Yes." Christine stepped towards her, ready to give the other girl a perfunctory embrace, but Judy shrank back. Christine halted, then gestured towards Haruka. "This is my boyfriend, Haruka. Haru, this is my cousin, Judy."
Haruka gave Judy a brief nod of acknowledgment.
"Hi," Judy said warily. She regarded Christine again, her expression unreadable. When she finally spoke, it was in a shaky voice. "The doctors say he doesn't have that much longer."
Christine took another cautious step towards her. "It'll be okay, Judy," she began.
"Okay?" Judy exploded. "How can you say that? He's about to die!"
Christine stopped again. "He's at peace with it," she said quietly.
"Ugh." Judy turned away in frustration. "Quit trying to be diplomatic, Cuz. I know exactly what's going on in that deluded head of yours." She turned back, clear disdain on her face. "You don't even have the decency to be properly sad about this, because you think he's just going to go up to some fairy tale place in the clouds and live happily ever after. Well let me give you a reality check, Cuz." She spat the last word. "When a person dies, their body goes in the ground, and it rots. And that's that. It's over for them. And the people who care about them get left behind, until the same thing happens to them. Or did your parents not teach you that?"
Christine's face was carefully wiped of any emotion. "Is that what you tell grandpa when you visit him?" she asked sardonically, a tinge of steel in her voice.
Judy looked livid. "Do not get snarky with me," she seethed. "I get why grandpa needs this. He's old, he's dying. He misses grandma. He wants to believe he'll see her again. What I can not get," she paced angrily up to Christine, "Is why you have to completely disrespect the grieving process for the rest of us, by acting like nothing is wrong. And then you spout some meaningless dribble about how it's 'okay' because he's at 'peace.' As though you don't even care."
"Of course I care." Christine's voice was deceptively even. Haruka could see that her fists were clenched. There it was—that shadow of anger, trying to bubble its way forth behind her eyes. He thought about stepping in to stop their argument, but he knew that this was between the two cousins.
"If you care," said Judy, "Then where were you when he had his stroke? When he got so weak he couldn't walk anymore? When he got sent to the hospital?"
Christine looked pained. "I was at university, Judy," she said quietly. "And I called and came to visit whenever I could. You know that."
"Oh yes," Judy's voice dripped with contempt, "You'd come by when it was convenient for you and give your little talk about embracing trials and tribulation with peace and love, is that it?"
Haruka started to step forward. He did not know what the history was between these two, but it was clear that whatever made Christine's cousin hold a grudge against her, she was being unfair. The distance that separated Christine from all of her loved ones was not her fault. However, when Christine saw him move towards them, she gave an imperceptive shake of her head. Reluctantly, he stepped back.
Judy continued bitterly, "I guess that's why you were his favorite. "
"Grandpa didn't have favorites, Judy."
"Like hell he didn't! It was always Chrissy this, Chrissy that. Even though I was the one who had to watch the stroke hit him, even while mom and dad were worried sick when he couldn't walk anymore, all the memories he would ever talk about were of you!" Angry tears were running down Judy's face now.
Christine's expression had changed. Gone was the shadow in her eyes. In its place was understanding. Her hands unclenched, and she slowly lifted one of them to wipe away the tears from her cousin's face.
"Then why," said Christine gently, "Did he choose to live in Florida…with you guys?"
Judy said nothing, silent at last. She stared at Christine, eyes still stormy, but she didn't flinch from her touch.
It was Christine who said, "I'm sorry." She stepped forward, tentatively. Judy didn't shy away, but choked back an angry sob. "I know how close you are to him," Christine continued. "And how much he loves you. I'm so sorry." She put her arms around Judy and brought her into a close hug.
This time, Judy didn't move away.
And Haruka felt the flames of anger between the two fade, ever so slowly, like fire put out by the persistent trickle of water.
Two weeks later, Christine got the call that her grandfather had passed away peacefully in his sleep. As Haruka sat beside her on the plane ride to Florida for the funeral, he watched her stare out the window. Her eyes were misty and yet there was a gentle smile on her face. Unsure of how to respond due to the two expressions being at odds with one another, Haruka finally decided to play it safe by trying to comfort her.
She turned to him when he brushed a hand through her hair. "I'm okay," she assured him. "Just nostalgic." She turned to gaze out the window again at the clouds. "I had a dream about grandpa last night. He looked really happy in it. Which made me feel happy too, while I was in the dream, but then I missed him all the more when I woke up." She sighed.
Haruka was not naturally good at comforting others. Being a man of few words and even fewer emotions, it was not natural for him to come up with a string of soothing platitudes. However, in recent years, he had discovered the seven magical words to say that would take that responsibility off of his shoulders.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.
Christine gave him a tender smile. "Okay," she said. "I dreamed that grandpa was with grandma, and they were dancing together. Grandpa was wearing a tux and grandma had a frilly pink dress on. It looked like something straight out of a 1950's ad; she even had this big pink bow in her hair," she chuckled. "And they looked so happy. I was standing to the side watching, but it's like they couldn't see me. They just kept smiling and laughing and swinging each other around."
Haruka noted that even her subconscious seemed to be marked by a sugary sweet innocence. "That sounds like a nice dream," he said.
She leaned her head on his shoulder. "It was," she replied, the gentle smile back on her lips. They sat together quietly for the rest of the plane ride.
After the funeral was over, all of Christine's family members gathered together at Judy's parents' house. The two cousins had been cordial with each other, with Judy even crying on Christine's shoulder during the service. Now, as the rest of the family mingled and caught up with one another to reminisce, Christine's parents approached Haruka.
"Haruka!" said Christine's father, Joe, merrily. "Good to see you again, son."
"We've missed you," Christine's mother, Maria, agreed. "It's so good of you to make it down here. Thank you for supporting Christine, and all of us, through this."
Haruka assured him that it was nothing, that Christine's grandfather had seemed like a wonderful man, and that Christine herself had been very strong throughout the whole situation.
"Speaking of my little girl," said Joe, "Where is she?"
"Yes, there's a few sentimental items that Dad left behind to give each of us, and I've got to give her hers," said Maria, lifting what looked like a book in her hands. She turned around to scan the room for her daughter. "Ah, there she is. Christine, honey," she called. "Come over here for a minute."
Christine looked up from where she was standing with a group of relatives. Excusing herself, she made her way over to where her parents and Haruka were.
"Grandpa left something for each of us," Maria told Christine when she had reached them. She held out the book. "This one is yours."
Christine took it and opened it to the first page. An expression of nostalgic delight lit up her face and she began to flip through the rest of the book. Haruka glanced over her shoulder to look, and realized that the book was actually a photo album. The pages were filled with pictures of Christine and her grandfather together, from when she as a little girl to when she had become an adult.
"There's something that he added in at the end," Joe said. "After you two visited him, he called and asked us to put in one more photo when we got down here, and write in a note from him to both of you."
Looking curious, Christine turned to the last page. Haruka bent his head beside hers to see as well.
Pasted on the page was a very old looking photograph of a young man and woman dancing together. The man was wearing a black tux, and the woman wore a pink dress and matching bow in her hair. Both of them wore big smiles on their faces. Above the photograph, in neat handwriting, was written, "To Chrissy and Haru: This is an old memory of mine that is greatly cherished." Below the picture, it said, "Make new memories together, and cherish them forever."
Christine stared, reaching out to touch the crinkled photograph with her fingers. "I've…never seen this picture before," she said at last, voice almost a whisper. Even as she said it, Haruka detected a strange look of recognition on her face.
"Neither have we," laughed Joe. "The old man said that that's the first photograph ever taken of him and grandma together. He's always kept it somewhere safe so that he wouldn't lose it. Who'd have thought, even though we have all those other pictures of them together, that this one had been hidden away?"
Maria laughed too. "I'm not surprised that that's the first moment caught on camera between those two," she added fondly. "When I was a little girl, they used to be dancing together all the time."
Christine continued to stare in awestruck wonder at the photograph, slowly tracing the pink frills of her grandmother's dress with the tips of her fingers. Slowly, a wonderful smile crept onto her lips, and she murmured, "And now the two of them dance together again, for all of eternity."
Haruka stepped outside for a breather while the rest of Christine's family continued to mingle. The sun was starting to set, and the humid Florida air enveloped him like a cloak. He wondered if there was a pool around.
Wandering to the back of the house, he was delighted to find that there was. He was surprised, however, to see Joe standing there beside the water.
The other man turned when he heard Haruka approach. "Ah, Haru," he said cheerfully, giving him a welcoming wave. "I should've known you'd come looking for a pool sooner or later." He chuckled. "Maria and I still laugh when we think about the first time we got to meet you."
Haruka cringed a little. He remembered that meeting far too well. Joe and Maria had been showing him around their home, in the backyard of which was a large, well-tended koi pond. Haruka had momentarily forgotten himself, and the next thing he knew he was swimming with the fishes. Joe and Maria had stood there beside his discarded pile of clothing, looking stunned.
"I'm never going to live that down am I," he muttered.
Joe just laughed some more. "Go ahead, hop in," he said, motioning towards the water. "I don't mind."
Thankful that his girlfriend's parents were as gracious as she was, Haruka stripped down to his swim suit and jumped in the water. Resurfacing, he stayed by the edge of the pool so that he could converse with Christine's father.
"Always prepared as usual," Joe said with a chuckle, indicating Haruka's swim suit. "Still the purple striped one?"
"No, it's new," said Haruka expressionlessly.
"Of course."
To any outside spectator, it would have seemed like an odd way to have a conversation; one man in the water and the other standing over him on the pool deck. Joe pulled over a chair and sat down, so that the two of them were (somewhat) more level.
"You're probably wondering what I'm doing out here," said the older man. "I was just reminiscing. This is where I was talking to Christine's grandfather, when I asked him for Maria's hand in marriage." He leaned back in his chair, remembering. "He was a really good man. He made me feel like a part of the family from the moment I met him. I remember, after I asked for his blessing, he thumped me on the back and said, 'Son, I knew from the moment I saw you that you're the one God chose for my daughter.'"
Haruka felt oddly uncomfortable. He had been listening attentively, chin just barely out of the water, and now he couldn't help but think of that 'trinket' that he had been saving up for. The one that would break Christine's no-jewelry rule.
"He did seem like a great man," he agreed, throat feeling dry. He nearly considered taking in a gulp of pool water to remedy this. There was an awkward pause as he struggled with his nerves. "I—ah—appreciate the message he left for…Christine and I."
Joe gave him a knowing look. "You thought it was presumptuous, didn't you?"
"What? No. I mean…maybe, but not—not incorrectly presumptuous, I don't think. I mean…" Haruka trailed off, flustered for one of the few times in his life.
The other man gave him a reassuring smile. "The old man liked you. He meant well. But don't let it make you feel pressured, or anything. I understand. You're still young, and—"
"It's not that," Haruka interrupted, but couldn't find the words to continue. Another uncomfortable silence settled between them. More uncomfortable for Haruka, as Joe just sat back with a peaceful smile and that knowing look still on his face. Finally, Haruka cleared his throat to speak again. "There's…something I've been meaning to talk to you about."
"Oh?"
Haruka wanted nothing more than to sink under the water and possibly never come back up again. But he forced himself to continue. "I was going to bring it up the next time we came to visit. I mean, the current circumstances are sort of, um," he floundered for a moment, "…Bleak."
Joe's eyes twinkled. "You know," he began, "Christine's grandfather always loved poetry. He said that, after he had his stroke, he prayed for the strength to not be afraid of what was coming next. And then he'd get these words dropped into his head, from poems he had read long ago. Like, 'A death is not the extinguishing of a light, but the putting out of the lamp because the dawn has come.' By Tagore." Joe leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "He told us that, after that, he was able to find joy in what was to come. And that he wanted us to have that joy too. To celebrate for him, not mourn for him. So," he leaned back again with a smile, "I'd say things are not as bleak as you'd think."
Haruka blinked, then said the first thing that came to mind. Which was a Jesus quote. "'Except a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it abides alone: but if it dies, it brings forth much fruit.'"
Joe threw his head back and roared with laughter. "I see my little girl has rubbed off on you," he remarked. "And you're right. We may all be gathered here because of one death, but it can give way to the birth of many wonderful things."
Haruka thought of the mended relationship between Christine and her cousin. He thought of the joyful faces of her relatives looking upon one another for the first time in years. He thought about what he was about to ask her father.
"I've been saving up for a ring," he said bluntly. That didn't come out the way he had intended it to. "Er—for Christine, I mean," he amended awkwardly. "I was wondering, if you…that is, could I get—your blessing?"
Christine's father smiled. Lowering himself from his chair, he crouched down at the edge of the pool. "Son," he said, reaching out a hand to grasp Haruka by the shoulder, not minding that it was wet. With a twinkle in his eye, he continued.
"I knew from the moment I saw you, that you're the one God chose for my daughter."
In the months to follow, Haruka often thought back to the conversation he had with Christine's father upon receiving his blessing. Especially every time he browsed through a jewelry store.
"How long have you been saving up?" Joe had asked.
"About half a year."
Joe shook his head, and Haruka feared that he would be rebuked. He was, but not for the reason he expected.
"My Chrissy is a practical girl, too practical," said Joe. "You know she wouldn't want you to splurge on her."
"But—"
"I know, I know," Joe raised a hand to interrupt him. "You look around and see all these options that would be great, but they all clock in at over ten grand, which you'd be happy to fork over for the woman you love but then you think of her reaction once she finds out how much it was. Am I right?"After Haruka nodded, he chuckled. "Her mother is the same way. She's easily pleased with the simplest of things, but not as keen on the more extravagant ones. Women can be a conundrum, eh?"
Haruka wondered whether it would have been easier if his girlfriend was harder to please, then realized the irony of that concept. "I just haven't been able to find anything that seemed right," he confessed.
Joe patted him on the shoulder. "You will," he told Haruka, grinning. "As Chrissy likes to say, you just gotta have faith."
Now, as Haruka stared at a sea of sparkling diamonds sitting behind a glass pane, he felt as though his faith had been diminished to a considerably smaller size than that of a mustard seed.
The store jeweler approached him. "Looking for something for your lady, sir?"
"Yes," muttered Haruka, still glaring at the overwhelming amount of expensive rings. "An engagement ring."
"Ah!" exclaimed the jeweler, eyes gleaming with the prospect of a big sale. "Please accept my congratulations! Allow me to assist you. What is the lucky lady's ring size, skin tone, and the color of her eyes and her hair?"
Haruka gave him the requested information, thankful that Christine's mother had discreetly found out her daughter's ring size for him.
"Right this way, sir," the man directed him to a glass case further inside the store. "I would suggest any one of these."
Haruka bent to inspect the recommended rings. They gleamed with the sheen of gold and glittering gems.
"If she has simpler tastes, something like this would work well." The jeweler pointed to a plain gold band set with a huge diamond. "But if you want to really spoil her, all the ladies who come in here love this one." He pointed to a bigger ring that was studded with multiple gems.
Haruka stared at the heavier ring. It was a wonder how any woman would be able to lift her finger with that on. Christine would probably have a heart attack if he presented something like that to her.
"Er—she has…simpler tastes," he said. Surveying the other rings behind the glass, he estimated that they ranged in price from five to fifty grand. Would something around five grand appease Christine's pragmatic nature, and yet still show how much he felt for her?
"Well, something here is sure to suit her," replied the jeweler, mechanical smile in place. "Please feel free to take your time and browse."
"Yes," agreed Haruka distantly. "I'll—think it over."
He left the store soon after that, empty handed.
Taking a seat at a nearby bench within the mall, he gathered his thoughts. None of the rings he just saw had seemed quite right. Not to mention their prices were likely higher than Christine would ever be comfortable with. Leaning back against the bench, he silently prayed for some form of guidance.
He wondered if there was such thing as prayers that were too trivial. Once, when he had casually asked Christine's opinion on the matter, she had said: You and I are always there for each other, even for the little things, aren't we? That's what happens when someone truly loves you.
He let out a frustrated sigh. He did not have Christine's uncanny sense of intuition for things. She could always figure out the right thing to do or say, and at the right time. He, however, had been fumbling over this engagement ring business for nearly a year now, and he still didn't know how to propose. From what he had heard, it usually involved some sort of long, romantic speech. Haruka wondered if there was any way to skip that part. Expressing sentiment was not his strong suit.
His friends hadn't been able to offer any helpful advice.
Makoto had said, "Just go with whatever feels right. I'm sure she'll love whatever you decide to do."
Haruka had wanted to retort, Says everybody and their mother, but kept silent.
Nagisa had offered cheerfully, "Rei-chan and I will write a proposal speech for you!"
"Absolutely not," Haruka had answered without hesitation. He could only imagine what a disaster that would be. Rei, ignorant of love as he was, would probably turn it into a mathematical proof. Nagisa would probably plagiarize from a romance novel. Or a shoujo manga. Haruka didn't know which would be worse.
He hadn't bothered to ask Rin for advice. The shark-toothed redhead would have probably laughed at him and said, Why don't you throw her into a lake again? or perhaps, Just hold her underwater until she agrees to marry you.
He gritted his teeth at the thought and tried to focus. Clearly he couldn't rely on the guidance of his friends. What did they know about proposing, anyway? He tried to think of how Christine got her guidance on things.
In thoughts that I'd never think on my own, in unusual circumstances that get placed into my life, in words or pictures that get dropped into my head…
There was no doubt that her life was one blessed by unusual coincidences. Personally, he had always chalked it up to luck. Christine was intuitive by nature and she could read people well. She also exuded effervescent friendliness in a way that made even the hardest of hearts soften a little and open up to her. All that and a little luck would give anyone's life good odds.
Then again, there was that genuine look of surprise when she had seen the old photograph of her grandparents. She hadn't said anything about it, to him or to her parents, but she hadn't needed to. He could tell from the shocked recognition on her face that it must have looked exactly like her dream.
But he wasn't like her. For him, coincidences were just coincidences. Or were they?
He thought back to their first meeting. He remembered how he had coldly snubbed her at first, after she had pulled him from the water. He thought of the day in class when she had first offered to help him. At the time he had been staring at the classroom ceiling, making a desperate plea to the heavens for some form of help. And then he had heard her voice reach out to him.
Anyone who asks can hear, he remembered her saying another time. You just have to learn how to listen.
Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he asked once more for guidance.
His mind remained blank. Feeling defeated, he let his thoughts wander for a bit. He thought back to the pool he used to swim in during college, where he had first spoken to Christine. He thought of the Iwatobi pool, and how he had taken her to see it when he brought her to Japan. He thought of her dressed prettily in the yukata that his mother had bought her for the summer festival. Blue to match his eyes, his mother had said as she helped Christine put it on. He remembered standing with Christine in the ocean by Iwatobi, when the sun had set so that its rays glanced off the water just so, enhancing its hue. She had reached up to him, cupped his face with her hand, and said with a lovely smile, Blue to match your eyes, as she gestured towards the sea.
"Something old, something new," sang a nearby child's voice, "Something borrowed, something blue!"
Haruka opened his eyes and glanced over at the source of the voice. A little girl stood in a bookstore with her mother, bouncing on her toes to read off the page of a book in her mother's hands.
"Very good, sweetheart," said the mother. "You're learning to read so fast!"
"But poe-weh-tree is so boring," pouted the little girl. "I want a book that is more exciting. With princes and princesses!"
The mother laughed. "Alright, let's go look at the fairy tales." She returned the book to its shelf and, taking the little girl's hand, proceeded to an area further inside the store.
Haruka got to his feet and made his way over to the bookstore. The book that had been left behind was on a display shelf at the front of the store. Picking up the thin volume in his hands, he noted that it was a collection of traditional rhymes and poems. Flipping through it, he searched for the rhyme that the little girl had just read aloud. He found it a few pages in.
Something old,
something new,
something borrowed,
something blue,
and a silver sixpence in her shoe.
At the bottom of the page was a footnote: This Old English rhyme refers to the wedding tradition of what a bride is to wear.
Haruka found himself inexplicably reading over the words again and again. For some reason, something about the rhyme seemed to deeply resonate with him. Or maybe he had just snapped. He had spent almost a year searching for the right engagement ring and method of proposal, and now he was reduced to poring over the philosophical significance of wedding rhymes.
A thought suddenly occurred to him. Snapping the book shut, he returned it to the shelf and hurried out of the store.
Bursting back into the jewelry store, he thoughtlessly blurted out what was on his mind.
"Something blue," he panted breathlessly.
The jeweler regarded him awkwardly for a beat. "…Sir?" he said, confused.
Haruka took a moment to catch his breath. "I want something blue," he clarified at last, "On the ring."
"Ah," The jeweler's eyes cleared with understanding. "Of course sir, I'd be happy to help with that." He gestured towards one display case. "There is, naturally, the blue diamond piece, and that one is quite rare. And then there's sapphire of course, and also blue topaz—"
"Sapphire," Haruka heard himself say.
"A fine choice," said the other man, though his eyes were losing their prior enthusiasm over a high sale. "No doubt the lady will appreciate the sentiment behind her ring matching your eyes. Might I suggest this one?" He gestured to a heavily studded ring with a large sapphire in the center. "The gold band is encrusted with numerous small diamonds, so your lady can enjoy the luxury of many gems rather than just one."
"No," said Haruka shortly. "Something simpler." He turned his back on the jeweler and began browsing through the display cases himself.
The other man trailed after him helplessly. He tried again. "Well, there's—"
"This one." Haruka had come to a stop before one display case. The ring he was pointing to had a thin silver band and was set with a single sapphire stone. It was a simple ring with a simple design. And as soon as saw it, he knew that it would be perfect for Christine.
The jeweler's expression was one of clear disapproval. Haruka noticed then that the ring was the only one with a price tag, showing that it had been marked down. It was now under one grand.
"That one…makes a pleasant enough gift, certainly," the jeweler said, struggling to be diplomatic. "But for such a grand occasion as an engagement, I would not recommend something so—" he struggled to put it gracefully, "—Plain."
"Simple," Haruka corrected.
"Yes of course," said the other man hastily. "I only meant that this one would be…unconventional, as an engagement ring."
Haruka tried to remember if there was ever a time that Christine had wanted a conventional gift. Or a gift at all.
"She is an unconventional person," he said.
"I'm sure," agreed the jeweler hurriedly. "But, if you'll allow me to be frank, I feel it is my responsibility to inform you of what is generally expected. Perhaps you haven't done much research on the matter; I know that for many young men this can be a daunting and overwhelming step. But as a general rule of thumb, an engagement ring should be worth at least three months of the groom-to-be's salary."
Haruka glared. He certainly had done his research, and doing so had only made him despair over how much his findings clashed with Christine's values. He wished this man would just take his money and shut up.
"And also," the man continued, "If I may respectfully add, it is my professional opinion that an engagement ring should be gold, to show its value in karats. If you prefer a paler color, might I suggest one that is white gold?" He gestured to another display case beside them.
Haruka struggled to think of an excuse that wouldn't make him look stingy. "My family's very traditional," he heard himself say. "Something borrowed, something blue, and a silver sixpence in her shoe. Old English rhyme."
The other man took in Haruka's clearly Japanese features. "I see," he began slowly, not looking at all convinced. "Though isn't the silver…meant to be a coin?"
Haruka would have been thoroughly annoyed at the other man if it weren't for the fact that there were about a dozen other flaws in his excuse that the jeweler could have also pointed out. Such as the fact that the silver was meant to go in the bride's shoe. And that this ring wouldn't be borrowed, since he would be purchasing it.
"We've…adapted with the times," he said lamely.
The man gave an imperceptive lift of his eyebrow, then sighed lightly. "Very well," he said, air of professionalism once more in place. "You will be wanting a box for it, I presume?"
Something occurred to Haruka. "Will it be waterproof?" he asked.
"I beg your pardon?" The jeweler was unable to conceal his disbelief this time.
"The ring box," Haruka clarified. "Will it be waterproof?"
"Sir," said the jeweler, "I can hardly recommend that you go swimming with it—"
Haruka cut him off with a cold look. "I like to be prepared," he said curtly.
The jeweler stood in flabbergasted silence for a moment. "N-no," he responded at last. "I'm afraid the box is not designed to withstand such—conditions."
This time it was Haruka who gave the other man a look of clear disapproval. "Perhaps it should be," he said coolly, fishing out his credit card. "If you want my professional opinion."
In the end, Haruka did buy the box as well. He figured that after he gave the ring to Christine, she would need a safe place to store it for whenever she had to take it off.
The question now, of course, was how exactly he would give it to her.
Two weeks dragged by as he loitered around the issue. They were now in upstate New York, on their biannual trip to see her parents. Joe had gotten a wide grin on his face when Haruka showed him the ring.
"Do you think she'll like it?" Haruka asked quietly.
"Like it?" murmured Joe. "You have no idea. Just you wait and see what she says." He had a delighted and yet slightly secretive smile on his lips.
Haruka gave him a suspicious look. "What is that supposed to mean?" he demanded.
"You'll see."
Haruka wasn't sure he liked the sound of that, but there were more pressing matters to discuss. "I still don't have a plan," he told Joe. "So I can't promise it will happen while we're up here."
Joe waved a hand dismissively. "You'll be fine," he said confidently. "It'll come to you when the time is right."
These words filled Haruka with a sense of paranoia for the rest of the trip. It would come to him when the time was right? What if he didn't have the ring on him when the time was right? He got in the habit of discreetly carrying it around with him wherever he went. He even went so far as to purchase a pair of swim trunks with zippered pockets, so that he could keep the ring securely on himself whenever he swam.
When Christine took him to the nearby creek to swim, she raised an eyebrow upon seeing him in something other than his usual Speedos. He quickly racked his brain for an excuse.
"Just wanted to try something new," he said with a deadpan expression. He hoped she wouldn't suspect anything.
She merely smiled and shrugged. "Alright, love," she said, patting him on the arm. "Come on, let's get in."
The creek was where Christine had spent most of her childhood summers playing. Haruka had been in it with her before, and it was usually packed with other people during the summer. But it was spring now and the creek was mostly empty, with the exception of a group of teenagers farther down along the bank. They were swinging into the creek on a rope tied to a tree branch, and their excited whoops echoed faintly down to where the two of them stood. Haruka started for the water eagerly.
"Hold on a sec, little mermaid." Christine grabbed him by the hand to stop him. "Don't go diving in headfirst like you usually do. Unless you want a concussion." She proceeded to slowly wade into the water with him in tow.
Obeying, Haruka followed after her, carefully stepping onto the pebbles along the bottom. The slippery rocks were misshapen and hard, digging into his feet. Christine suddenly stumbled and he caught her, losing his balance in the process. They both went down with a splash.
"I'm okay!" She spit out water with a laugh.
"You sure?" he asked, one hand behind her back as he helped her back up.
"Yep," she assured him. "I guess we should go to a deeper spot, huh?"
He agreed and they spent the next couple hours swimming and splashing through the middle of the creek. It wasn't until he had resurfaced with Christine after a breath holding contest, with her laughing and gasping for air as they held onto each other, that he noticed the sudden silence around them. He looked up to see that the other kids had left, and that dusk was fast approaching. Christine noticed too, and suddenly shivered.
"We should go," he told her, rubbing her arms. "It'll get colder once the sun goes down."
"Like that ever bothered you." She smiled.
"I'm not letting you catch a cold."
"I'm not that cold, really," she protested.
Haruka was not about to let her cater to his hydrophilic habits at the expense of her health. "Did I not just feel you shiver?" he persisted.
"Emotional reflex," she said dismissively. "Being in the water in the dark used to creep me out as a child."
"Oh?" He had not been expecting this as an excuse. "Why is that?"
"Because you can't see anything," she explained. "And if there's no one else around, it's like being alone in the dark." She gave a nervous laugh. "I used to be afraid that a creature of the deep would come out of nowhere and eat me."
"Don't worry," he said, thinking of Rin and his sharp teeth when he heard 'creature of the deep.' "I've beaten sharks before."
She threw her head back and laughed genuinely this time. "No doubt you would protect me from any sea monster," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. "And I know I'm not alone. I've got you."
A far-off tree branch fell and hit the water. At the sound of the splash, Christine flinched and instinctively clutched Haruka tighter. He gave her a pointed look and she grinned embarrassedly.
"Heed what I say, not what I do," she said.
"We can still get out, you know," he told her gently.
"I'm a bit old to be afraid of the dark, aren't I?" she laughed. "Don't worry about me. I've got you here with me, and—what's that verse?—perfect love casts out fear."
Haruka relented. She could be incredibly stubborn when it came to placing his wants above hers. Which seemed oddly backwards, but who was he to complain over that?
"Fine, just twenty more minutes then," he compromised.
"Deal," she said, and hugged him to herself for warmth.
Haruka could feel slight tension in her muscles from her subconscious fear. He placed a hand against her back in an attempt to soothe her. What to say in this sort of situation? The seven magical words wouldn't work, since he didn't want her to think about her fear even more by talking about it.
Now that he thought about it, he had never seen fear in her before. It was one of those elusive emotions that seemed to evade her disposition, for the most part. Sure, he had seen worry in her before. She showed worry for others constantly. But there had never been any fear for herself, that he had witnessed at least.
He thought about the other emotions that she rarely displayed. Anger. Grief. He had only ever seen shadows of them pass through her as quickly as the flash of a shooting star. At the accusations from her cousin. At the death of her grandfather. Each time, these darker emotions had been overcome by the great love that she held for those involved.
Now, as he felt the nervous tension of her muscles fade under his touch, he knew that even fear could not stand against the perfect love that this young woman had.
Perfect love casts out fear…
As he felt his own anxiety over the impending proposal start to melt away, he suddenly realized something. This was the right time.
He started to reach for his pocket to fish out the ring. This was as good a way as any to get her mind off of the dark, right? The sun had completely set by now, and a bright moon had taken its place among a sea of twinkling stars.
Christine suddenly brought up the very subject that he meant to distract her from. "Light and dark have such an effect, don't they?" she murmured against his shoulder. "The way that water sparkles under the sun, when there is light shining in and through it—it can be so beautiful."
"Like Living Water," Haruka agreed, one hand closed over the ring. Like you, he wanted to say.
"And yet, when there isn't any light in the water," she indicated the creek around them with a tilt of her head, "It can be so frightening."
"There is some light in this water," said Haruka, reaching for her hand under the surface. "I'm holding it right here in my arms." Pulling her closer into his arms, he slipped the ring onto her finger.
Christine's eyes widened in confused surprise at the unfamiliar feeling of metal around her finger. "What—" She raised her hand out of the water. The sapphire on her finger glinted under the light of the newly risen moon and stars above them. Her eyes went even rounder. "Is this…"
"You are the light in the waters that I swim through," Haruka continued. "And the vessel of living water that has poured new life into my heart. So—" he paused for breath, somewhat stunned by his own unexpected eloquence, "Will you marry me?"
She stared at the ring for a moment, then up at him, then back down at the ring. To his alarm, tears suddenly filled her eyes. "Is this—" she began again, "Silver and sapphire?"
This was not the answer he had been prepared for. "Yes—?" he ventured nervously. Had he been wrong in getting her too simple a ring? Should he have listened to that stupid jeweler?
But then she continued, "How did you know?"
"What?" he asked blankly.
"How did you know," she repeated, "To get a silver and sapphire ring?"
"I—" I what? he thought to himself. I had flashbacks of a bunch of blue and heard some kid recite an old rhyme? He settled his thoughts for a moment. "I guess I just—asked to hear, and learned how to listen."
Christine nearly broke down then, and Haruka would have panicked at this abnormal display of emotion from her if not for the radiant joy in her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she began to explain. "Okay. This is going to sound crazy, but…there's this thing that happened when I was sixteen. It was right after my first heartbreak, and I was pretty depressed and angry at the time."
That did sound crazy. Haruka found it incredibly hard to imagine Christine depressed or angry. And although they had told each other about their past relationships, he always assumed hers had ended amicably.
She continued, "I went crying to my mom, asking how I was ever going to find The One if boys sucked this much." She laughed a little. "I was a stupid teenager back then. Anyway, my mom said something like, 'Trust God and He will tell you.' I told her that I thought God had given me this guy, and then my mom said, 'You weren't listening to God, you were listening to your emotions.' I got angry at her for that, so to be a brat I pointed at the ring she was wearing and said, 'Fine, then I want Him to give me a clearer sign next time by having the right guy propose to me with this exact kind of ring.' She probably should've sent me to my room for talking back like that, but all she did was smile and say, 'Silver and sapphire, got it. I'll pray for you.'" Christine stopped for a breath, before adding quietly, "To be honest, I had sort of forgotten about all that…until now."
Haruka was at a loss for words. "Well…er…" He struggled to think of something profound. Like a Jesus quote. "I guess—ask, and you shall receive…?"
Christine smiled, eyes finally dry but still shining. She cupped his face in her hands. "Yes," she agreed.
Haruka looked back into her eyes silently, unsure of what to say next. "So…um…"
"That was an answer to your question from earlier," she interrupted him. "Yes—I will marry you."
Relief filled him like a flood. "Oh," he said, all traces of eloquence gone. "Good."
She kissed him. Drawing back, she added tenderly, "Aishteru."
Haruka took her face in his hands. This had been an unusual day—an unusual month, even—with him doing and saying a lot of things that he didn't usually do or say. It couldn't hurt to add one more thing to the list.
"I love you too," he said, and kissed her back.
~*~ See you next water time! ~*~