WARNING: MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS.
Ano Hi Mita Hana No Namae wo Bokutachi wa Mada Shiranai
ONESHOT YUKIATSUxANARU
SUMMARY: "Anj-" Jintan was about to follow her, Menma right behind him, but was roughly yanked backwards by Yukiatsu who used the resistance to leap forward himself. "I'm not letting you steal this one from me too, Yadomi!" He yelled back over his shoulder, as he took chase after Anaru.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Made in commemoration of the upcoming final episode of AnoHana purely to satisfy my own perversions, lol. Finished it pretty late, so I won't guarantee the quality of what's written. Based on the tenth episode of the anime. Some bits of Japanese have slipped its way into the text. I couldn't find the heart to change it for sentimental reasons, sorry.
Read and enjoy~
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Ano Hi Mita Hana No Namae wo Bokutachi wa Mada Shiranai nor am I any way affiliated with its production. AnoHana belongs to A-1 pictures (?)
Unrequited
"Men…ma."
The mixture of shock and disbelief on Jintan's face spread like distressful ripples in a lake and planted itself to the former members of the Super Peace Busters . Menma… was still there?
"Iru no ka?" The frailty in Yukiatsu's voice instantly turned to one of frustration. "Na, mada iru no ka? Oi, Jintan!"
How could it be? Menma was still there and moreover – he was once again the only one who could confirm her presence Yukiatsu grabbed Jintan by the collar, pulling him up close. All his vent up anger took straight charge at Jintan, the one who in so many ways had caused him grief ever since childhood. "What did you?"
"I didn't do anything!"
Yukiatsu wouldn't stand for it. Whether consciously or not, he knew that Jintan had something to do with it. After all, he had always been the one; the only one who Menma ever had loved. "It's you, isn't it? You're the one whose tying Menma to this place with your selfishness! You don't give a damn about Menma or us, you only care about yourself!"
"… So what." There was something provokingly apathetic about Jintan's demeanour. Yukiatsu tightened the grip on his collar. "What did you say?"
"I said: So. What." He repeated, tauntingly, adding more fuel to the fire. "What if am the one whose tying Menma to this place; what if I am just thinking about myself? I told you, didn't I? I love Menma. I don't want to lose her again."
"Omae-" Yukiatsu raised his fist, ready to sink it in deep into Jintan's face, but Menma quickly swung her tiny body around his arm, holding it down with all her might. Yukiatsu's hand froze mind air, only inches away from his target. His body trembled in shock. "Is this… Menma's doing?"
"Yes."
"Menma, why would you… for this guy…" Yukiatsu released Jintan. In an instant, all power left his body. He had suffered a clear defeat. Again. He had always known that nothing could ever come between Jintan and Menma, that he could never have as big a part of her heart as him. On that day and even before, he had always known. And yet why, why did he have to keep shoving it in his face even now?
It was unfair. There was no other word for it, just… unfair.
"Menma is all I need. If I have Menma, I don't need anything else. Even if it means she won't go to heaven, even if it means I have to die, if that's what it'll take, I'll-"
"Jintan, sonna-!" Menma exclaimed, but of course no one but Jintan heard; and even if the others could have heard, it was unlikely they would have noticed, for another sound far more pungent than the shrill voice of the dead girl flung through the air that moment, resonating in a deafening silence. It was the clasping noise of skin coming into contact with skin, followed by a scarlet swelling. Anaru had slapped Jintan flat on and hard in the face.
"Don't…. say something like that…" With tears brimming in her eyes, she could only force herself to stand there for another moment or two; then she turned, running down hill, as fast as her legs could bear, using thought of Jintan, Menma and Menma and Jintan to boost her escape.
"Anj-" Jintan was about to follow her, Menma right behind him, but was roughly yanked backwards by Yukiatsu who used the resistance to leap forward himself. "I'm not letting you steal this one from me too, Yadomi!" He yelled back over his shoulder, as he took chase after Anaru. Definitely not this one too, he affirmed determinedly in his mind.
He found her down by the river; the river in which Menma had lost her life on that fateful day. The grim memory crossed his face, but he quickly brushed the it aside. Right now, he should focus on Anaru.
"Anaru." He said and put a hand on her shoulder. Anaru paid no attention to him. She looked a mess, with her twin tails half undone from the run, and puffy red eyes fixated on the lake, the sole remaining symbol of their common trauma. The dawning light danced on the lake surface, dying the water in stains of red.
There was something dangerously fascinating about the depths of those waters, Yukiatsu thought silently to himself while waiting for Anaru to regain her sense of self. He had always wondered how Menma had felt on that day; half-conscious, struggling to remain buoyant, small lungs filling with lungs. Afraid? Regretful? Lonely? He had even once or twice considered taking the same dive – but always chickened out when it got to it, feeling sick to the bone upon visiting Menma's death bed. Of course he had never told anyone about that. It remained a tiny, desperate fragment of his broken psyche.
The cicadas picked up on the long silence, preluding its end; and finally, Anaru spoke. At first it was nothing but a soundless tremble of the lips, as if the word refused to leave her throat, as if she feared that manifesting them into the real world would threaten her whole being with their inescapable truth, but slowly, slowly the words took form; however, the momentous character of her speech, the perpetual notion of every punctuation in every spoken sentence clouded the atmosphere even more. Heavy. Sad. "Why would he say something like that? Like he doesn't care about anything but… Like he doesn't care about the Super Peace Busters… about us."
Yukiatsu knew that she in all honesty wanted to say 'like he doesn't care about me'. Just the same, he yearned for Menma to look only at him, but for once he didn't comment. He allowed her to simply speak, to empty out all the feelings clotted up her heart.
"Y'know, I've started to think that even if Menma hadn't died on that day, the Super Peace Busters would have probably broken apart. After all, even then and even now, Yadomi's always been the only one for Menma; and for Yadomi, Menma's always been the only one. Compared to that, the rest of us are of minor importance He said it already, right? Menma's all he needs. And I… none of us can replace her. I know that, yet my heart won't let go. Pathetic, isn't it?" She broke her contact with the lake at the last line, and gave Yukiatsu a faint smile. However, Yukiatsu didn't smile. How could he smile? He knew her pain all too well.
"Anaru."
Yukiatsu drove a hand through her hair, untangling the loose hairbands in the process. Biting her lower lip, she looked away. She knew she should draw a way and once again make it clear that she wanted nothing to do with a crossdressing creep, but she couldn't find the strength. Yukiatsu's touch was strangely comforting. She felt so drained, she wanted to forget about everything. Herself, Jintan, Menma – all of it.
Yukiatsu gently pulled her chin up with his hand and grabbed her waist with the other. While drawing her closer, he simultaneously leaned in until their lips collided; first, he barely grazing her lips, carefully caressing each of them one at a time to let her learn the feel of his mouth. He steadily applied more and more pressure, until finally charging her full mouth. There was something gentle about his forceful ways, and Anaru found herself unable to resist. She slipped her hands onto his chest, boring her nails through his sweater and into his skin underneath, returning his yearning demand. Her head was completely empty and dominated solely by the Yukiatsu who stood in front her, craving attention.
For both, the kiss was bittersweet; a symbol of the loneliness that none of them could shake off their minds. He needed her; and she too needed him, however little she wanted to admit it.
Yukiatsu brushed her teeth with his tongue, demanding for permission to enter, but just then, Tsuruko's words resounded through Anaru's head.
"I know exactly what it's like; because I love Yukiatsu."
She spread out her fingers and pushed him away with the collective force of her ten digits. In the heat of it, all except Yukiatsu had ceased from her thoughts, but her consciousness of Tsuruko's love was one definite fact she couldn't run from. Even if she was able to forget about Jintan, she would never be able to forget her onesided promise to Tsuruko – that she would never love Yukiatsu. She couldn't do that to Tsuruko, not when she herself knew the pain of an unrequited love.
"Anaru." Yukiatsu said, face flustered from lack of air and eyebrows drawn in a deep frown. "You know that Jintan will never love you. Not before, not now, not ever."
"I know that." She said quietly, avoiding his gaze. Her cheeks were just as flushed as his.
"Then why can't I do instead?" he spouted harshly. Anaru fumbled for her words, having only a repeated 'I' leave her lips. She didn't know what to say. She could hardly tell him that it was because of Tsuruko and reveal her feelings just to save her own skin.
"Anaru, look at me. This will be the last time I ask you: go out with me."
Anaru didn't look. She hid her eyes under her lashes, as she for the last time delivered the answer, she had already given him twice before. "I… can't."
"Che. Suit yourself." He wouldn't even bestow on her a last glance, just turned his back and left her to watch the obvious frustration in his hasty exit. Anaru sank to her feet. A terrible guilt overcame her, and all she could do to ease it was meaninglessly whisper to herself that this was, after all, for the best.
…
…
"You look awfully frightening these days," Tsuruko stated in a-matter-of-factly way. "Did Anjou-san reject you again?"
Yukiatsu just grunted, not even noticing that she had discovered the fact that he had been making advances to Anaru.
It had only been five days since they had launched the fireworks. Five days since they failed to make Menma go to heaven. Five day since he had broken off contact with Anaru. He hadn't even called her once, as he had made a habit during the days they were making the rocket. Now, he was having lunch with Tsuruko in the schoolyard's greenery, although latter was granted little of his attention. However much he tried to erase Anaru from his mind, his thoughts still seemed to orbit annoyingly around her at an all too frequent rate. It was even bothering him to the point where he could no longer keep up outward appearances in front of his followers, emitting a constant aura of unapproachability.
"You know, no one has heard from Anjou-san since then. Neither Poppo nor me or Jintan. She doesn't answer her phone and her mom says she hasn't been to school." She continued, producing but yet another grumbling noise from Yukiatsu. "Did you do something to upset her?"
"How the hell would I know," he muttered. Tsuruko raised an eyebrow sharply, threateningly urging Yukiatsu to spill the beans, and do it quick. "I asked her to go out with me, and she rejected me. If anyone were to go into hiding it should be me." He held up a hand in front of his face. In it was the wrinkled shape of Anaru's favourite star-shaped hairbands. In his anger, he had forgotten all about returning; and his pride didn't allow him to return them with the way things were now.
"So that's how it is," Tsuruko said, not a trace of surprise. "That would probably be because of me."
Yukiatsu looked at her with baffled confusion, but Tsuruko felt no yen to explain herself in a haste. Rather, she took her time to carefully pick up a roll of tamagoyaki with her chopsticks, dip it in soy sauce and munch on it slowly, before finally continuing. "I told her that I was in love with you, Yukiatsu."
"Tsurumi, you-"
Tsuruko held up a hand, interrupting his speech. "Take it easy," she said flatly, making it clear that she wanted him to keep quiet and listen. "I'm not asking you for anything. I've known long enough that you would never be able to look at me like that, and honestly I never wanted your pity as an excuse for being with you, either. I'm simply telling you now, so you can get your act together. This Yukiatsu who wimps around because of a small rejection is not the Yukiatsu I know."
Not once while talking did Tsuruko lose her cool composure. It was calmer than ever, perfectly set under the rim of her glasses. "Anjou-san is probably under the impression that she has made a promise to me. She told me she could never love you, but really, Anjou-san is too naïve. Feelings change. Her feelings, your feelings, mine – None of us will probably ever completely forget about our unrequited first loves. It will surely hurt," – a pained expression briefly crossed her face, but disappeared after a quick a adjustment of her glasses- "but that pain mustn't stop us from moving on. We can't keep living in the past forever. We've already been caught up in its web for too long."
None of them said anything after that. Neither did any of them eat. The sequel hung in the air, but none of them took the initiative to make it. She was waiting for him to make up his mind, and he was… he didn't know what he was. He was turning her every word over and over in his head, trying to find the resolve to arrive at the obvious conclusion. His pride was struggling against it, but underneath it all, he already knew what he had to do.
"Tsurumi, do you have her home number?"
…
…
"Sorry for troubling you like this," Anaru's mother greeted them at door and showed them in with an apologetic smile. "Thank you for coming."
"No problem," Yukiatsu said politely as he entered through the door. "We're the ones who are intruding after all."
He was followed closely by Tsuruko. At first, Yukiatsu had insisted on coming alone, but Tsuruko had stubbornly maintained that it was just as much her issue as his, until he finally felt obliged to give in.
"Not at all." The smile on the woman's face gradually grew more worn-out as she spoke. "That child – I did notice that she's been feeling down a lot lately. She even ran away from home, but I thought it was just, you know, hormones. The usual teenage mood swings. But this time seems different; she refuses to leave her room, even refuses to speak. Of course, she sometimes comes out to eat or use the bathroom, but she avoids all unnecessary contact. Really, I don't know what's gotten in to her."
Yukiatsu cringed inwardly. He knew that he alone wasn't responsible for this, but he still bore a sizeable part of the blame. He pretended like nothing though, and placed his shoes by the entrance, making sure to properly shove them in to the side. However, Anaru's mother wasn't done. Maybe she knew she had one of the perpetrators at hand, maybe she just wanted to vent out frustration; one way or another she managed to hit his sorest spots. "Still, I'm surprised to see you two here. I knew she had taken up contact with Yadomi's kid, so I would have thought he would be the one to show up if any of you."
Yukiatsu clenched his fist. It took him a good amount of self-restraint not to punch it straight into the wall. Yadomi, Yadomi, Yadomi – it was always all about Yadomi.
Tsuruko placed a hand on his shoulder, drawing him back to reality. 'There's a time and place for everything. Now's not right for your personal feud with Yadomi,' she whispered. She then turned to Anaru's mother, excusing themselves. "We'll go see how she's doing. Again, thank you for having us."
"Please do. The door isn't locked."
They went up the stairs, following the path to Anaru's room. It brought back vivid images of the past. The hallway looked exactly like it did in their memories, and so did the sign on the door that spelled 'Naruko' with childishly written hiragana characters.
Yukiatsu put his fist on the door knob, determined to… what? Prance in like a knight in shining armor, barge in like a villain? He hadn't really given much thought to his approach nor which words he was going to soothe her pain with; and now that the issue was imminent, he was at a loss.
"Let me go first," Tsuruko swept by him, swiftly taking the place in front of the door from the dumbstruck Yukiatsu. "I have something to settle with Anjou-san."
Clearing her throat, she raised her voice to a level clearly audible through the door. "You really are pathetic, Anjou-san."
"Tsurumi!" Yukiatsu hissed. Was that really the best way she could think of? Tsuruku brushed him of and continued. "When did I ask for your pity? You think you're protecting me? Don't flatter yourself so easily!"
She took a deep breath, enforcing her mental composure. It wasn't an easy matter for her either, after all. "Did you know, Anjou-san,that during these many years Yukiatsu has only seldom smiled? For some reason, though, he smiles when he's with you. I saw you two that day when we were making the fireworks. I saw how honestly Yukiatsu smiled; and how mendaciously you denied that smile." She said. "I've… accepted the fact that Yukiatsu will never love me, but you – you are just plain out running away from reality, using my feelings to protect your own. However, that doesn't mean your feelings for him will never change. I'm guessing your feelings have already begun to change, and you're so afraid, you're using any possible excuse to avoid falling in love again, but guess what: feelings change. Just because Yadomi was your first love doesn't mean he's your only love. " To no surprise, the door almost seemed more closely shut than before. After such a speech, there was no way Anaru couldn't find it more difficult to leave. The tension of indefinite closure weighted too heavily in the.
"Well, I'm off. Good luck." She waved at Yukiatsu who watched her disappear down the stairs. Now what? He knew he could easily spend all day in front of the door, thinking of a plan for his entrance. At the same time, however, he knew any such plan would fail the instant he went in there. It was one of those rare moments where he couldn't calculate the outcome, simply because he had no clue of how Anaru would react. There was nothing he could do. He just had to go in there and await the conclusion.
He stuck his hand in the pocket of his uniform blazer, squeezing Anaru's hairbands to brace himself. Then, opening the door a few tenths of centimeters ajar, he snug in and closed it behind him. The procedure almost went by soundlessly, except for the creaking noise which the door made upon closing. The click set motion to the figure on the bed and slowly, Anaru arose to a sitting position, her read curls all tangled. She was dressed with a minimum of effort: a white lace strap blouse, black hot pants and long stockings pulled well up on her thighs. In her arms she held the pink plush bunny she had carried so often to their meetings at the secret base; a present from the Super Peace Busters for her birthday, a long time ago. "Tsuru-" she stopped halfway, surprised to see who her visitor really was. Her voice became small and quite. "Yukiatsu."
"Sorry for barging in like this. Can I sit down?"
Anaru nodded, hugging the bunny even closer to her body as Yukiatsu took seat beside her. Neither of them looked at each. Both just stared off into space, waiting for the other to break the silence.
Yukiatsu took the time to inspect the room. He was almost disappointed to see how much the interior had changed, seeing how little had happened outwardly. It was hardly surprising, though; the room did after all belong to a young woman. However, it reassured him to see that the abundant collection of games and manga still held such a valued position amongst her belongings. The discovery somehow reassured him, and finally he took the initiative. "I'm sorry, I never meant to conflict you like this."
"Don't say that!" Immediately, a low yelp and a blush emerged from her at the abrupt exclamation. Yukiatsu smiled. "You know, Tsuruko was right. I will never love her like that. It's different with you, though."
Anaru released the plushy, letting her hands fall down her sides, eyes still tied to the floor "I… don't love you… right now."
"I'm the same. However, I do like you enough right now to know that I probably, someday soon, will fall in love with you. I can't stand it when you look at Yadomi, but moreover," he paused, seeking the right words. What he wanted to say required no complicated hyperboles. Only the simplest would do. "I need you. And I think you need me too."
No sarcastic retort strung through the air this time. Anaru found it hard to admit, but she knew he was right.
"I said I wasn't going ask you anymore, and I'm not. This time, I'm telling you: go out with me."
His intense stare only made it more difficult for her to look at him. "Mou, what kind of knight are you?" she mumbled, clutching the patch of sheet just beneath her hand.
"Anaru." Yukiatsu released her fingers one by one, and turned hands face upwards. Then he took the hairbands from his pocket, placed them in her palm, firmly closing her fingers around them, and finally resting his own on top. He leaned in to her ear. The fine hairs on her arms rose and hot jolts surged through her body, as Yukiatsu, voice just as level as it was before, repeated. "Go out with me, Anaru."
"Don't call me… that." She mumbled.
Yukiatsu raised an amused eyebrow. "Then what, Anjou?" - which only produced a violent headshake from the redhead - "Then… Naruko, perhaps?" The deepening crimson shading her face told him he was spot on. He smirked and repeated her name in the lowest of whisper, teasingly noting each of the three syllables with careful attention. ".ko."
"You're some knight," she muttered, peaking at him from the corner of her eye.
"I never said I was a knight," Yukiatsu replied, firmly sliding her hand into his, only the fabric of stars keeping them apart. Their fingers intermingled. "I'm stealing you away; obviously, I'm the villain." Just as he was about to gently bite her earlobe to prove his devious nature, Anaru surprised him by turning her head and pecking him on the lips. Her bravery paid off: the slightest of blushes, nothing more than a pink pallor, made its way to his cheeks.
Yukiatsu slipped an arm around her waist, inhaling her scent as he embraced her. "Your answer, Naruko."
There were tears in her eyes, but Anaru was smiling. "Yes... Matsuyuki."
AUTHOR'S NOTE (2): and then they xxx and xxx. You naughty, naughty boy, Yukiatsu. Lol.