Dispelling the Clouds

Chapter 1: Give Me a Break

You would think that someone would grow out of being a crybaby.

Sure it's cute when you're four or five, clinging to your mother's skirt like your life depended on it. People would coddle you and tell you how adorable you were, only to see you flinch in fear at the unexpected compliment. They'd laugh at how precious you were, and for some reason, you thought it was okay to act like that. So it became a norm for you.

Now I'm not talking about myself. Not even in the slightest.

I was always the strong one out of the two of us. We had known each other since we could both remember. Our mothers had both come from countries across the sea to study here, and had become fast friends when they met through a motherhood group in the area. They made us play dates, and once they saw how well we got along, decided we should spend as much time together as possible. And after having our parents shove us together so much when we could barely process how to use our own limbs or mouths, we just came to accept the fact that we would always be together.

Or at least I did.

I told myself that this idiot couldn't live without me to protect him from the bulk of crap that was sent his way. He was always a little too soft to deal with things, and would come running to me, tears streaming down his chubby, dumb face. Without a second thought, I would pulverize the crap out of whoever hurt him. It didn't matter that I was a girl beating up a bunch of stupid, dirty boys. They had hurt the only thing I knew for certain, I would make certain that they knew I would always give them a good butt whooping for it.

And he would always cling to me like his life depended on it, blubbering his thanks into whatever frilly contraption my mother thought a little girl should wear. It was something I lived for back then. I told myself that as long as the two of us were together, everything would be alright and I could protect us both from the entire world.

But like every real life experience, that didn't happen.

Low and behold, right before entering elementary school, my weak hearted lifeline and I were severed from each other. My parents had to move – nothing uncommon in this day and age- and that was that. We didn't get to say goodbye. I doubted either of us really knew what was happening until it was already said and done for.

I didn't know what to do with myself back then.

After spending almost every conscious year of my life revolving my actions around protecting him, I didn't know how to act on my own. The little girls were all obsessed with dolls and playing house, and the boys were too disgusted by the girls to even think of getting close. I had no need for dolls or playing house. I had someone I needed to nurture and protect. Hadn't we promised each other when we got older we would be married? Why did I need to fill my imagination with anything other than that?

Yeah, it was childish and silly. I know. A lot of kids make promises like that with each other, or to their parents in some form or fashion. It shouldn't have meant anything to me as time went on and other kids came to be my friends.

But for some reason, it always did. I thought about Yamaguchi every day I went to my new grade school, sending him poorly scrawled letters written in crayon almost every day. I told him I loved him, and that he didn't need to worry about the bullies he always wrote about. That I would be back soon to let the good old days return for both of us.

Fast forward a few years.

About eight, to be honest.

Everything changed.

Outside of the usual growth spurts and horrible beginning of puberty, my parents got a divorce. It wasn't unexpected or heartbreaking in any sense that I could tell you, but it did hurt. Especially when I looked at my mom. She loved my dad, I know she really did, but hey, it didn't mean he felt the same way. That other woman came, stole his heart, and now they were happily married. The two of them lived on some expensive land near the coast, so for almost three years now, I had a cool spot to hide away at during the summer.

I told myself that I could get over all of it. But by then, I had nothing to rely on and no one to depend on.

You're probably wondering what happened with Yamaguchi, right?

Well surprise, surprise, he found someone else to take my place by then.

I had felt a pit of anger fill my stomach the first time he had ever written about Tsukishima, and from there, had given up on whatever childhood fantasies I had about returning to him like those knights did in fairy tales to save the damsel- or in my case, dude- in distress. It was clear he looked up to whoever this new guy was, and would be just fine without me. He didn't need me anymore.

It wasn't an easy pill to swallow. There I was, fourteen years old and still full of childish whimsy, hoping the pathetic shell of a human being I was turning out to be would have one small hope granted to her. I don't know why I wanted to be with him so bad. Maybe because it fed that stupid heroic gauge I had built up over the years to protect myself. To keep people from thinking that I was the one who needed saving.

And boy, did I need saving.

I shut everything out. I had no friends, no life, no nothing. My lifestyle wasn't girly or cute, and for a while, I got a taste of what Tadashi must have felt all those years ago. People treated me like I was some kind of crazy outcast who purposefully wanted attention, but at the bottom of it all, I was just too overwhelmed to care what people saw in me anymore. I was angry, like a caged animal ready to snap at the next hand offered kindly to it. I didn't know what I wanted anymore, or what really mattered.

So when push came to shove, and things couldn't really be held back anymore, I begged my mom to let us move back to my childhood hometown. I needed to go back, just to reassure myself one final time that there was nothing worth salvaging. That he wouldn't care if I was in his life or not.

She resisted at first. No one wants to move back to a place that holds memories of a time now gone. Especially since it reminded her that we weren't coming back with my dad. That this wouldn't be some happy, sappy reunion that would make us all feel rainbows and butterflies on the inside at coming back to the place our happiness had blossomed.

But I knew she couldn't say no forever. I never asked her for anything, and when it came down to it, she wanted me to be happy. Even if it meant sacrificing her own newly formed life without my dad and swallowing the bitter pill once and for all.

Her job finally got a transfer to a town nearby, and only a few months into the last year of my junior high, we were back. Nothing had changed in regards to my feeling, but gods, had everything about that place changed. Everything seemed busier, the town and suburbs growing larger and expanding into the countryside just beyond. It reminded me that time went on, pushing further and further until you could find anything exactly how you left it.

And it made me nervous, filling me with an optimistic energy I hadn't realized existed anymore. My mind was busy playing back old memories, willing me to relive the only happy memories I really had at this point. We were going to be reunited. I could be myself again and not have to worry about being shut out. And maybe, just maybe, everything could go back to normal again.

Whatever I thought normal was at that point, I couldn't tell you. I was expecting things I couldn't get back. You see, when life takes something from you, you can't get that lost time back. It won't ever get returned to you, no matter how much you want to be reimbursed.

Which is probably why I wasn't as excited as I thought I was to see Tadashi again. Our moms had planned a nice little brunch once our move-in was all over and done with, excited to finally be face to face for the first time in years. I couldn't help but wonder how much everything had changed with him like it had with me. Did he still have those annoying little freckles? How tall was he? Was he still a blubbering baby? Or had life finally toughened him up?

I felt nervous. Nervous that he wasn't going to be the guy I hoped he turned out to be.

Life changes you after eight years. I was living proof of that.

My hair was cropped short around my bony face, giving my stupidly big eyes a harsher glare. I was petite, with arms a little too long for my body, and assets I wished I didn't have. My ears were pierced three times, hung with different sized gauges that made it clear that I was trouble.

That maybe I had and would always be a menace.

Still, I didn't want to appear that way to him. I don't know why it irked me so much, but I actually dressed up for that first meeting. Maybe to the discerning eye my flowing top and dark-washed jeans seemed normal, but they were anything but. I wore nothing but stretchy tees and whatever pants would fit into my chunky boots all year round, so for me to actually spend more than five minutes putting an outfit together, it was special.

Because it made me vulnerable.

There was this never-ending pit in my belly, and despite my better judgment, I gave into it. What if he really had changed? Would I be able to take it with my cool demeanor the way I had learn to shoulder the pain in the last few years? I kept telling myself that it didn't matter. That people had to have changed over eight years. That all these hopes would go unfounded like usual.

But when we got to his house, I felt something I had been grasping at for years: peace.

The small, two-storied villa looked almost identical to what it had when I had last seen it. I could feel myself retracing the steps I had taken as a child. The little worn table where we had sat was now gone, but I remembered its chipping red paint with vividness. And just around the edge of the house, past the last visible spot of grass, bush, and tree from the side of weathered flowerboxes was our secret hiding spot. Maybe, just maybe, I could squeeze in if I-

"Mi!" My mom hissed under her breath, grabbing me by the elbow so she could jerk me towards the door. "It's rude to gawk like that. Come on. We shouldn't keep them waiting."

I rolled my eyes, mumbling under my breath. "Hm."

She walked me to the door just like that, holding my elbow tight as she rang the doorbell. I knew it wasn't to keep me from snooping anymore. I knew she was scared too. It must be hard for her to meet up with Tadashi's mom. After all, so much had changed in her life. She was trying to brace it. Maybe a little bit for me, but mostly for herself.

The door opened quickly, and a woman I immediately recognized as Tadashi's mom stepped out. Her freckled face was pulled into a wide grin, and it felt so warm just to be in her presence again. After all, she was pretty much a second mom to me.

"Oh, welcome! Welcome!" She was moving quickly to embrace my mom in a hug. My elbow was thankfully released as they did. After a moment, they let go and her eyes drifted to me. "And goodness me! Is this young lady Hiromi?"

"Yes it is." My mother replied warmly, pushing me forward just a tad. "Say hello, Mi."

I dipped my head, hating that the words had dissolved in my mouth the moment the door had opened. "It's nice to see you again."

"The feeling is mutual my dear! Please, come in, both of you. I have some tea and refreshments waiting for us."

I could feel myself pause as we entered. The smell was so familiar and relaxing. All the weight the last eight years had caused was suddenly lifted from my shoulders. I knew the problems and worries I had formed weren't gone, but gods, for once, they seemed manageable.

Tadashi wasn't here yet, and despite myself, I started to worry again. What if he had left so he wouldn't have to see me again? Had he made new friends, and decided some old childhood friend wasn't worth his time? It could be possible. Anything could be possible.

I tried to ward off the dismal thoughts with some happy thoughts as my mom chatted non-stop with his. The two of them seemed to click like two pieces of a puzzle, and it was nice to see them so attentively chatting. Mom had barely had anyone stable to talk to when she found a new job to drown all her feelings at, and seeing her so alive, so energetic made me thankful that my selfish wish was rubbing some goodness back into her life as well.

But their conversation gave me time to freak out. Or more honestly, time to pump myself up for Tadashi's impending arrival.

Just as much as he could have changed for the worse, he could have changed for the better. He could still be the same sweet, slightly overwhelmed awkward duckling he had always been. He might still look at me and smile, despite the appearance I now had eight years later.

We might be able to still be friends.

The thought echoed through my veins as I stood to take all of our dishes into the adjoining kitchen. There might be something to build on, if he was willing to let me back in again. I knew I was already for it- heck, I was borderline obsessed with the thought of having that comfort again- but until I got some sign from him as to his thoughts of me invading his life again, I couldn't be sure.

The door clicked open not long afterward, and while he moved into the house, I froze. The saucer in my hands was suddenly gripped tightly as I heard his voice- now deeper with the onset of puberty- and suddenly, I couldn't breathe.

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

I was going to be sick.

He was different.

I was different.

There was no way-

"Welcome home, Tadashi." His mother's voice interrupted my frantic thoughts. "Do you remember Hiromi and her mother? They came over for brunch, like I told you earlier."

This was it. He was here.

Should I turn? No, no. He wouldn't run at the sight of me.

Maybe I could run to the bathroom. I'd hide away in there until he went upstairs.

No. I had to be strong. Even if all the hopes I had turned out to be nothing, I would face them like it all. And after the pieces crumbled in between my fingers, I still had to try.

I still had to prove to myself I was worth something.

I swiveled on my heel, and my eyes immediately swept over him. He was taller. Much taller than he had been as a kid. I could tell even in the distance between us that he towered over me by a good seven or eight inches- maybe more. Those arms and legs lengthened by time were muscled but not buff, and he seemed healthy but not overwhelmingly masculine. He still had those telltale freckles dusting his cheeks, ones that were now lean and manly unlike the chubby ones that laced my memories. He looked shocked- probably mirroring the look that was plastered on my own face- drinking me in like more than eight years had passed.

And it felt like it had.

And it felt like it hadn't.

The past, present, and future seemed wrapped all in one at that very moment.

The look on his face softened until he was giving me a cautious smile. "Sorry, I just got back from practice. Have you guys been here long?"

I knew he was talking to me, but I couldn't speak. Words escaped me, logic was denied, and all I could do was continue to gawk at him, still in shock. He was talking to me. Me. And it seemed he didn't mind my awkward, rebellious transformation. He was just seeing me as me.

"Not too long, dear." His mother put into the silence with a reassuring bounce to her voice. "Did I happen to tell you that Tadashi joined the volleyball club? He's quite good, if I can say so myself. You know he's always been so meek, but this has sure helped give him some confidence."

"A little." He confessed, still looking at me. He still seemed timid, but so kind. Like all this time really hadn't changed what mattered about him. "I still have some ways to go."

Our mothers were soon chatting amongst themselves, and we were yet again forgotten. I still hadn't budged or softened my own expression. Because I was scared that the moment I did, I would break down and there would be no saving my image. I was still the strong one. I was the one who carried our burdens.

He lifted an eyebrow, still a little skeptical that I hadn't said a word, before jerking his head towards the stairwell in the hallway just beyond the kitchen. "Should we go upstairs? We could play some video games or-"

The words drifted off awkwardly, but it didn't matter. He was inviting me back into his life. The expression on my face finally lifted, and for the first time today, I smiled like I hadn't in years. "Sure. Games sound like a plan."

We spent the rest of the day together, chilling on the floor in his room like we had all those years ago. We didn't say much at first, but as the game we were co-op playing intensified, the words started pouring out as well. He talked about school, things he had done in the last few years, and some nice vacations he had went on with his parents. There was talk of Tsukishima once or twice, but it didn't matter. That envy I felt for this stranger seemed faraway in Tadashi's presence. Here with him, there was understanding and peace.

Things I hadn't really felt since I left this place.

The words suddenly returned, and I was telling him everything.

Well, almost everything.

I told him about what it felt like to move, my parent's divorce, living with my dad only in the summers, and what it felt like to return. He listened while we continued to play, adding his own paced questions to the whole scheme of thing so I wasn't rambling nonstop for god knows how long. He never asked how I felt, or why I had changed. I think he merely accepted them the way I had with his own growth. To him, it didn't matter. To him, I was still the same girl who had left here almost a decade ago.

But like all good things, this first meeting had to come to an end.

Both of our mothers came up to check on us, grinning and laughing at how we seemed to jump right back into the flow of things despite being separated for so long. We must have looked pretty childish, now that I think back on it, sitting side by side on the floor while scrunching our faces in hopes of better coordinating our movements in the game. It took me by surprise when he turned to give me a lopsided grin, sending my heart fluttering in my chest at the sight of it.

We were no longer children, I realized with clarity at that point. Because the feelings I now held towards him were so much more complex than the innocent love I had back then. They confused me as to who was supposed to be helping who, and what role I needed to fulfill.

I remember him standing to his feet, moving to hold a masculine hand to my smaller one. For a moment I almost reached for it, but at the last moment I caught myself and got to my feet in one quick motion without his help. He didn't say anything, but the look on his face reassured me that he hadn't taken my rejection for help seriously.

"That was pretty nice." He filled in as we filed behind our moms back to the main floor. I had turned to look at him, and he was giving me that same smile he had when our eyes had first met. "You should come over again sometime. I was really having trouble with that boss battle."

It was hard to keep the smile on my face from changing. I could feel my lips wobbling, pushing and pulling in the torrent of emotions that flooded my system. He wanted me to come back. This wasn't merely a polite, wishy-washy goodbye to appease me. It was heartfelt and genuine. Just like him.

"Yeah." I breathed, smiling a little wider. "I will."

AN: Woot! Back with another fic! Just wanted to guage a reader response to this and see if anyone was interested in reading it. Thanks like always for reading this far, and please leave a comment if you have a chance! ~ E.F.