First: To hold your hand
At Koshien they finally lost.
There are just two things to remember with this fact.
The first is that getting to Koshien in the first place was a huge deal. An amazing effort that earned you a handful of the sacred dirt off the grounds to take home.
The second is that getting there fulfilled the last dream Wakaba had.
They stood at the grave together, reporting their loss in the finals of the tournament. At the dinner they'd had the other night, Akaishi left it to them. Kou had earned himself a name as the best pitcher that year despite the loss – the kind of pitcher that came once every ten years, it was said.
Aoba was thinking complex thoughts as they stood in front of the grave.
Aoba was not the same girl she was before. She was the girl who cried into Kou's chest, asked for the two-shot they took at a café, and held Kou's hand while waiting for the train.
She thought hard and often about that hug. She still felt the warmth of it, so tangible she could draw it upon herself like it was a cloak or blanket.
Who was she now? She wondered.
A girl who felt nothing but admiration and pride for the young man who had fulfilled her sister's last dream?
A girl who was so thankful that through her mentorship, he had taken her to Koshien?
A girl who was understood by that boy?
That boy – that boy who understood all the pain and sorrow she had felt when she lost her sister. Who understood what fulfilling this dream meant to her. That boy who immediately went to hug her after they'd fulfilled that dream.
"I miss her so much." Aoba admitted.
"I know," he said. "Me too."
Aoba tentatively took his hand. She let her knuckles brush against his ever so slightly. Reached out with one finger, then two, tracing her path slowly until she'd grasped his lightly.
He squeezed her.
She thought harder about who she was now. The wall she'd put up between them had been pulled down when she'd cried on his chest. She cried because she missed her sister. She cried because of the feelings she'd denied, hidden behind a wall of uncivil behavior.
When did she begin to like him? It's most likely her strong feelings for him evolved into love sometime in the six year gap. When he started training for Koshien, she would catch herself admiring him, and remember Wakaba telling her he was amazing, or not to steal him away. She would then hide her feelings behind a wall. There was no way she would let herself feel an iota of like for Kou. To do so would cause her to betray her sister. And yet after the match, she had burst into tears. She liked him. She came to terms with it. Her guilty plea was "I've always hated you." It's like she was saying it and asking to be forgiven.
The wall she had put up between the two of them had been pulled down by the three truths he had told.
Who was she?
"What is it?" he asked, feeling her gaze on him.
"You pitched really well. You're a great pitcher."
"So they say."
She frowned.
He smiled. "Thank you," he said. "I had a great teacher."
She didn't blush, because the way he said it was so matter-of-fact it didn't feel like a compliment to blush about.
"Say. Let's go out and get something to eat tonight," she said.
"Roger."
For now, she would settle with being the Tsukishima Aoba who went on dates with Kitamura Kou, who held his hand when they walked, who talked to him about the sister they both lost.
That would be enough, as a start.