Confession

"Well, what do you think?"

She spun around on her heel, violet hair trailing along behind. From his place on the couch, Iori blinked. His heart rate sped up, but he wouldn't let her notice that, no – his voice sounded as calm as ever. It's not good to lie to people, Joe said, but sometimes, it's better not to tell the truth. If it makes them feel better. So Iori lied straight through his teeth.

"It looks very…pink,"

Miyako sighed, coming to a full stop in front of the couch.

"Oh come on Iori, you're a guy. I need your opinion: do I look sexy enough?"

"S-sexy?!"

"Yeah. For once, I want Ken to notice me. So tell me: should I keep the dress or not?"

She was getting aggravated, hands clenching to fists. Iori gulped. Should he tell…the truth? There was no other way around it, was there? He looked at his lap, down to where his socks rested on the carpet.

"Miyako, I uhh, well,"

"Spit it out!"

"I think you look beautiful."

It was so silent all of a sudden, Iori closed his eyes, unwilling to look up. This is it, he thought, this was the end of their friendship.

"R-really?"

Huh? She didn't sound angry, or sad, or in any way disturbed. Iori chanced a glance up at his friend. He almost smiled when he met her eyes – almost, because Iori never let his guard down, he was always in control. He put up his best neutral face; while his hands clenched around his knees, for support.

"Yes,"

"Ah! Great!"

She bounced up and down her living room, hands clasped and eyes wide shut. Then she stopped, gasping, wiping the sweat off her forehead. Miyako would make such a devoted mother – the way she threw herself into everything she did, so passionate. Iori had seen it years ago, he had been watching, and waiting, and waiting… She suddenly lunged in and pulled him to his feet, making him flush bright red, his mouth open in surprise. It was going to happen, finally.

Even after all these years, Miyako still was a tad taller. And apparently, they'd stay that way. Miyako would always be taller than him. It was a fact Iori had learned to live with. It didn't bother him anymore. He let his eyes flutter shut, reached closer to her.

Two arms pressed in to him from behind, he could feel Miyako's chest against his own. It was so warm, and…huge. He puckered his lips and kissed

hair. He kissed hair. He opened his eyes, quick. She was hugging him. That's it. No more or less – just a silly, stupid hug that had him up in cloud nine. He blinked again. It was true, just a hug. A friendly hug… He cringed at the word 'friendly'.

"Thank you! Ken can't fail to notice me now! I'll make him fall head over heels in love, and then he'll certainly ask me out on a date!"

She pulled back, a determined glint to her smile, merry, happy eyes. Iori wasn't fast enough, he wasn't prepared to slip on the mask and push his feelings down, down, out of sight. He looked away, but she still saw it. Miyako frowned, her hands still gently holding his shoulders.

"Uh, Iori? What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me! I know something is up, I can see you're hiding it."

She shook him for emphasis.

"Ow, Miyako – that hurts,"

"Don't give me that crap! You're a skilled Kendo practitioner, you took stronger blows at last week's meet."

"Eh, you don't know your own strength…"

Miyako's face went blue and purple. Oh-oh.

"Are you calling me a man-woman!?"

"What? NO! Miyako, I,"

He squirmed away from her grip when she raised a fist in the air, coming sailing down closer to him. Dodge, dodge, away! He ran past the sliding door when he heard a rip. He turned his head around. Miyako stood there, lower legs exposed, and the dress broken in the place where she'd stepped on it.

"I'm sorry."

He ran back, trying to find what he could do, coming up with nothing, and just standing there, wringing his hands in discomfort. Tiny buds of tears lined the sides of her eyes.

"Miyako, I,"

"It's not your fault,"

She smiled. "I was being stupid again, and heh, broke my own dress!" Sheepishly, she raked a hand through her hair. "Yeah…stupid me."

Iori found himself looking down more often than not, where Miyako's pale, long legs peeked out from the ragged hem. He couldn't tear his eyes off – it might be the last time he'd get to see…

"Iori,"

"Ah,"

"You were going to say something, before…"

"No, I wasn't!"

"Yes you were. Something's wrong. Why won't you tell me? I'm your best friend, you know that. With you for better or worse. So tell me."

"It's not like that, not something you tell to a friend…"

"See, so there is something! Something you're not telling me."

He folded his arms and walked away, but she followed, right to the window. Iori felt himself cornered. She pouted her lips and raised a finger, as if about to prove her point. He couldn't stand it anymore. What's the use of hiding, now, when she was on to something? Miyako would find out, sooner or later – that's just the way she was, headstrong. Miyako always got what she wanted…she'd get Ken, too. Iori frowned. He pushed himself off the wall, into Miyako's face. And for the first time defiant, he stared deep inside her eyes, pools of liquid chocolate, the contacts inside, the contacts she wore for Ken. He scowled. For the first time in his life, he knew exactly what he wanted, and stopped caring about everything else. Miyako took a small step back.

"Uh, Iori, what are you…?"

"What I should have done a long time ago, Miyako – confess my love to you."

A/N: These two were super sweet together, and I didn't see many fanfics devoted to them, so decided to write my own.