When Futaba showed up at his door in the middle of the night, eyes glassy and hands shaking, Kou didn't know what to say.
The smooth metal of the door was cold beneath his fingertips as he held it open, staring back at the girl across from him. She hadn't said anything since he opened the door, just standing and watching him with her reddened hazel eyes, jaw set. Still, seeing as she'd just woken him up and his mind was still foggy with sleep, he couldn't bring himself to say anything either. The sirens of an ambulance blared in the background, muted by distance.
Shivering in the crisp, night air, Kou pressed his shoulder to the door to keep it open, crossing his arms in front of his chest to keep warmer. Though not particularly pleasant, the steady rush of cold air helped to wake Kou up. And, when Futaba still refused to say anything, uncharacteristically quiet, he finally decided to make the first move. Taking ahold of her wrist, Kou pulled her inside, shutting the door against the darkness outside.
"Why are you here?" Kou asked, though it came out more roughly than he'd intended. It was an honest question, said in curiosity only, but it sounded more like a judgement.
Flinching at the question, Futaba turned her gaze to the ground, tracing circles on the floor with the toe of her shoe. Even in the dim light, Kou could see the color that came to her cheeks, the shame in her eyes. "It was an impulse," Futaba answered quietly, keeping her gaze stubbornly on her shoes.
"In the middle of the night?" Kou asked skeptically.
Considering Futaba was one to fall asleep easily, given all the times she had fallen asleep on the train or studying at his house, he had a hard time believing she just happened to be up and decided to pay him a visit. If she was up in the middle of the night, there was a problem. Besides, he didn't like the way she looked. Her eyes were slightly reddened and glassy and, no matter how she pressed them against her legs, she couldn't hide the way her hands trembled. She looked like she had been crying. The thought made worry claw its way into Kou's chest, cold and heavy.
Futaba opened her mouth to reply, but closed it again, not trusting the words to come out without wavering or breaking. Instead, she just nodded, keeping where she stood. A quiet sigh spilling past his lips, Kou pushed a hand back through his messy hair. Even when it was clear she was hurting, Futaba tried to make excuses, tried to put on a good face to keep people from worrying. As endearing as it was for her to try so hard, he knew from experience it would only make her feel worse.
Closing the distance between them, Kou wrapped his arms around Futaba, pulling her into a gentle embrace. One hand came to the back of her head, gently tucking it under his chin. For a moment, she was still, her breath warm against Kou's chest. Then, her hands slipped around his back, twisting in the soft fabric of his shirt. He pressed a lingering kiss to the top of her head, lips against her silky hair.
"What's wrong?" Kou asked worriedly, his voice muffled slightly in her tresses.
Releasing a shuddering breath, Futaba tightened her grip on his shirt, the fabric bunching. "I'm scared," she admitted, voice coming out strained. At that, Kou pulled her in tighter, keeping her close against his chest, protected.
"I think I finally understand how you felt before," Futaba said, choking the words out, past the lump in her throat. "Caring about things is trouble," she echoed, turning Kou's thoughts back to lonely days when he had thought the same thing. Though, Futaba had fought so hard to change his mind, bright eyed and undeniably determined. So, why was she giving in to that dark and bitter thought now?
"That's not true," Kou whispered, emotion slipping into his own voice. He had learned, through meeting her all over again, that it wasn't true. He had learned to love her, learned to let her in, and learned how good it felt to care again. Sure, it brought pain with it too, but it was so much better than living numb and hollow, the way he had since his mother died.
"It is true!" Futaba cried, raising her voice, though the volume was still dampened by the fabric over his chest. She let go of his shirt, unwinding her arms from around him to push against his chest. Though it hurt to let go, Kou stepped back and away from her, giving her some space.
Hands balled into fists, fresh tears brimming heavily in her eyes, Futaba watched him with a challenging gaze. "Whenever we're apart, I miss you and I want you so much it hurts," Futaba said shakily. She brought a hand to her chest, fingers digging into the space above her heart, trying to quell the ache. "I can't think straight anymore," she breathed, blinking back at the tears that pooled beneath her bright irises.
Worry turned in Kou's stomach, wishing he could do something, anything, to ease the anxiety in Futaba's eyes. Though, when he moved towards her, reaching out to pull her back into his arms, she just shook her head. Stepping back, she wiped at her eyes, trying to clear away the way her vision blurred with tears. Kou clenched his jaw, taking all his effort to just stand and listen. Fighting the urge to protect her, to try to make everything better, was more difficult than he could ever guess.
"Being in love hurts, and it's confusing, and I'm always embarrassing myself," Futaba admitted, letting out a breath. "But, when I think about losing you..." she trailed off shakily, voice breaking.
This time, when Kou pulled her into a gentle embrace, she just leaned into his touch, tears sinking into the cottony fabric of his shirt. Giving in to the shuddering sobs, Futaba slumped against Kou's chest, letting his arms, wrapped supportively around her back, keep her on her feet. Kou just resolved to rub small, slow circles against her back, whispering soothing reassurance against her ear. And, though his heart ached seeing Futaba in pain, he finally let a relieved sigh fall past his lips. As long as she let him comfort her, instead of putting up walls and keeping her distance, she wouldn't end up like he did.
She would be okay. Because she was strong. Stronger than he ever would be.
Once Futaba's sobs had quieted and were eventually reduced to hiccups and sniffles, Kou loosened his grip on her, arms falling gently around her waist. Taking advantage of the space between them, he let his gaze fall to her face. Though her eyes looked glazed and damp tracks glistened on her cheeks in the low light, her expression looked so much more at ease than it had when he had first opened his door. The pained, haunted look in her eyes was gone, replaced by something warmer, something kinder.
"Are you going to be okay, now?" Kou asked gently, voice kept low.
After a beat, Futaba's eyes met his, her heart fluttering at the tender and genuine care in his gaze. "Yeah, I think so," Futaba said gingerly, throat a bit raw from crying. "Just promise me you aren't going anywhere. Promise me I won't have to lose you," Futaba insisted, though the watery emotion in her voice kept her tone from having any command. Instead, it sounded closer to pleading.
"I promise I'll always be by your side," Kou said resolutely, not hesitating in the slightest. While he couldn't help a freak accident or an aggressive illness, he could swear that he would fight with everything in his power if it meant staying with Futaba. He'd give anything for her, to stay with her, to keep protecting her. Because, as long as he was hers and she was his, he was happy.
They belonged together. And, he would never let her go.