A THOUSAND HEARTS
The catalyst, she thought, was his move into the same building as her. It was the autumn after their first year of college. Yamato was wanting a new place, an escape from his shared space with his brother, and Mimi was very complimentary of her apartment building. After a mentioned availability; an eviction of residents down the hall from her, plans were made. The convenient proximity kept the visits frequent, their whisper of a friendship strengthening. Two empty crushes that otherwise would never have evolved past hidden attractions.
Feeling the familiar drag of loneliness one morning, she called Yamato over to waste the time away until it was time to meet up with Taichi and Jyou in the afternoon. After finding a still lethargic Yamato at her door, she made coffee. They settled into opposite corners of her sofa with their hot drinks, searching channels unsuccessfully on television for something decent to watch. They gave up, sat drinking in silence.
"It's so bright," she said.
Following her gaze, he stared at the same bright view of the window. All he could see was a haze of buildings, a bit of sky, and the railing of her balcony.
"Thankfully."
"Hm?"
He sunk lower into the pink cushions. "It's been too cold- too much snow. It's supposed to warm up today."
She sat up slowly, setting her coffee aside. "Go get our shoes."
"For what? We don't leave until three."
She ignored him and went straight to her bedroom. Used to this, he did as he was told, balancing his cup in one hand as he scooped up both pairs of shoes by the door with his free one.
"Thanks, Yama."
He turned to see her pulling a sweater over her head, her smiling face popping out. She took her shoes from him and slipped them on by the balcony door, then stepped out onto the untouched, glossy white sheet. She crouched close to the balcony floor, raking her hands through the snow. She was patting down a large snowball in her hands by the time she saw his shadow drift over her and stop, his sigh reaching her ear as he copied her low position. She smiled at his closeness, knowing how much he usually liked to keep his distance.
He tugged his sleeves longer, rolled them around his fists for warmth as he watched her carve a face into the lumpy sphere. Her turquoise nails dug out two large eyes, no nose, and a wide toothless grin.
"You're in love with someone else." He said it on another sigh. Her breath halted. Such a simple statement of the obvious, but she couldn't get over the abrupt turn. And there was more. "It should be me."
Uncaring to hide the plain shock on her face, she looked over to catch his shadowed blue eyes, his set jaw. His raw sincerity scalded her senses. She fought the urge to jump to her feet and retreat back into her apartment. She looked away fast to the beaming creature of snow in her hands, aimlessly tracing the imperfections with her fingers. She stopped the instant she realized her hands were trembling, gripping the snow until the cold was a painful bite at her flesh.
"You're right...you're right about Koushirou."
He gave a slow nod and said so easily it caught her totally off guard, "Why isn't he going with us today?"
"He...he has some group project...they're finishing it today."
"I haven't seen him in a while."
She gave a stunted, dark laugh. "Neither have I."
He pulled his hands free from his sleeves, reached over and pried her hands free of the snowball. Holding it out in one hand he observed its now disfigured face. He kept one of her ice cold hands in his other, holding it tight.
They had gone two whole months with no mention of that day. Tonight was just another friendly visit with distance kept, no awkward confessions of something secret, something impossible. She was sitting on her bed, legs dangling over the edge as she played with her hair, sifting through light honey strands. Yamato was on the floor writing, his back to the nearest wall.
"My hair's turning white," she said.
He looked up from his notebook, eying her curiously. "What?"
"Stress."
"From what?"
"Koushirou."
"You mean just now?"
She nodded.
He snickered, dismissively turning his attention back to his sparse page of black ink.
She scolded him with her eyes. "Not funny. What happened, me being upset over a scraped arm...all of it- wasn't funny."
"No. It wasn't."
"Then be quiet."
He stayed quiet, pen working hesitantly across the paper. "You can't even tell me to shut up right." She sat up fully, letting her fistful of hair go. He sat his notebook to the side, matching her intense stare of him. "You were worried for all of three minutes."
Her jaw slackened with disdainful indignation. But she had nothing to say, nothing to defend herself with. He smirked, knowing she was too offended by the fact to ever admit it.
"If you really loved him-"
"Don't say that."
"-You would've been a total mess."
She looked away from his holding gaze and went back to analyzing her hair.
Her avoidance of the truth only made him more determined to force her out of her silence. "You do remember how quickly your worries turned into carefree smiles when I brought you that tea?"
The impact of his words was evident in the crinkle of her brow and momentary pause of her fingers. "You were trying to make me feel better...The things you said...I couldn't help it."
"And the lasting nonchalance?"
"A front. Simple as that, Ishida."
"For my sake?"
"All for you."
"You're fooling yourself."
She felt his words settle in her like a thick poison, gripped her hair tight around her hand. She seriously said, "It really was a front, Yamato. I was worried sick but I didn't want to show it. I guess I should have..."
Taking in every new guilty contortion of hers, he went on to lift the mood, "Caffeine and sugar should not be a cure for 'my boyfriend might be dead' sorrows."
"I didn't think he was dead, just that he probably had to get a new car. His mom's first text would have immediately said he was hurt if he was really in bad shape." She leaned back on her arms, returning the eye contact with a slight smile. "But...you brought me cookies too. That's not enough?"
He shook his head lightly at her try at distracting humor despite the smile on his face. "Someone you love...I want you on the floor giving up the will to live."
"A puddle of drowning tears?"
"Nothing less."
He reached for his notebook, eyes set back on his previous task. She knew she should leave him alone, let him finish his work, but she saw his vacant stare of the paper. She pushed off of the bed and went to sit next to him on the floor, legs folded instead of bent like his.
"Tell him I cried," she said. "Please. If he asks."
He wanted to laugh and shake her at the same time, tell her again just how delusional she really was. He gave a slow nod of his head in response and they settled into a short silence.
Lifting the quiet, he asked her, "When you got that message from his mother...telling you Koushirou had been in a car accident, why'd you immediately think it was something worse?"
"I don't know. My mind just..." She shook her head. "She should have specified. Texting me right after with the details about the minor bruise to his arm..." Another quick shake. "It's not my fault. You believed the worst too."
"Yeah...yeah, I did."
"So..." She trailed off with a shrug of her shoulders.
His focus back, his pen moved across the page in fast strokes. She wanted to turn and peek at what he was writing but she'd learned her lesson long ago not to hinder his creative process. She smiled at the remembrance of the soft thwack to her head with his notebook, his subsequent apology, and the following tirade of minding her business.
"Day in the death of..." She looked over to him, her eyes falling to watch his hand move in time with his words, scribing them on the page. "...Izumi Koushirou. The girlfriend he thought loved him with a thousand hearts...mourned him for a fleeting ten minutes..."
She scoffed and grabbed his pen, sending it flying onto her bed.
"Mimi, you didn't let me finish."
"The ending?"
"SOS."
At her request, and much to his vexation, Yamato was walking with her to Koushirou's house. He blamed himself for reminding her of her injured boyfriend. As inadvertent as it was, his question regarding her plans for tomorrow had evolved into a sudden insistent urge to see him. He remembered her biting her lip and not appearing nearly as concerned as she should have been. Nonetheless, she had said, "Poor Izumi..." And asked him with an obvious reluctance, "Will you go with me to see him tonight? Please?" He couldn't object, no matter the searing burn in his chest that had his heart pounding. He couldn't say, 'Don't you think he's overreacting to a dented bumper and sore arm?'
He felt her hand on his forearm, felt the chill of it even through his gray hoodie. She waited until he met her eyes and let him go, stuffing her hands back in her jacket.
"You don't have to go in," she said. "When we get there. You can stay outside...if you want."
"What, I can't give the ill my warm wishes of a swift recovery?"
"I don't want him to know I was with you today."
"An all-day remorse, right?"
"He knows how much time I spend with you. Of course he hates it."
He was glad for it, almost satisfied, knowing Koushirou was feeling the same suffocating jealousy as he.
"Don't smile," she told him. "He spends less time with me because of you."
"I'm sorry." Before she could roll her eyes at his lie, he continued, "You can't help wanting to spend time with me, and I can't help wanting to spend time with the girl I love."
She didn't try to hide her smile this time as she turned her head to see his grin. "The way you said it... You really had me going for a second. I think I nearly fell in love with you right then, Yama."
"Oh?"
"Mmhm. It was like when you're about to drift off to sleep...but you catch yourself just before its too late."
"Ah...Saved."
"Were almost there..."
"Yeah...now where exactly am I supposed to wait for you outside? On the curb?"
"You can come in if you want, Yamato."
"I'll come only if you promise me you won't kiss his bruises and lick his wounds in front of me."
"I'll just pat him on the head then."
"That's too much. I'll just stay outside."
"I don't want you to be cold..."
He shrugged, keeping his eyes ahead on the cement path he had hoped never to have to follow again. Yamato's last trip to his house had been months ago. Her sudden presence against him sent a quick shot of surprise through him, her warm hand pressing firmly against the side of his head.
"Your ears are all pink...you should put your hood on." She didn't wait for a reply, flipped the hood over his blond head. "Thank you for not even trying to stay healthy for me."
He laughed. "I didn't know I was such an important person in your life."
"Completely precious."
"That..." He took his hands out of his hoodie to untuck the hair from behind her own pink ears. "...would mean so much more if we weren't on our way to dear Izumi's house."
The visit lasted nearly twenty minutes of Yamato waiting outside in the cold night. Her eventual appearance beside him and the expression of defeat on her face caught him off guard. He'd reached out to bring her closer for an embrace, caught himself just as his fingertips touched her shoulders. He'd settled for a slow run of his hands down her arms and a squeeze of her hand. The twisting hook of her fingers with his was something he hadn't expected. She'd told him of Koushirou's surly mood, his black and blue skin that made her heart ache, and the look on his face when she told him Yamato was waiting for her. Their hands dropped away from each other the moment she told him of her plans to come back with sweets for Koushirou tomorrow.
Back to their apartment building, the distance returned to its normal few feet, he had her at her door. He stopped her from opening it, taking the keys from her and slipping them into a front pocket of his hoodie. She didn't bother to try and retrieve them, her eyes stuck on his.
He said, "What if I told you something you already know?" He watched her smile melt slowly, her mouth opening the tiniest amount, but nothing. The grin back on his face, he started with no intentions of finishing; "A love for..."
"If I already know..." She stretched her arm out for her keys, her hand caught by his before she could swipe them from his pocket. "You don't need to repeat it."
He dimmed only a bit, his smile still intact but losing its sincerity in slow measures. "I'd hate to be repetitive..."
"Stop joking. If you really meant it the first time then it's not a joke."
"It might as well be one."
"The first time you told me- that was just a joke. You were playing around."
"I wasn't playing around with you, Mimi."
She gazed grievously down to where he had her hand bundled in his, and she didn't have to ask.
"But like you said...no repeats. Not tonight."
He let her go, handed her the keys, and walked back to his own apartment.
For a while all he could hear was the fast in and out of her breathing as she sought a steady pulse. Her eyes were bright copper as she stared past him, her face a heightened mix of hope and apprehension. Watching her warm puffs of breath scatter into the freezing air, he wondered what had happened to her initial urgency to speak to him.
She had run down the street to catch him, opting for the clear, less icy path of the empty road. His earphones had been in, the loud music an effective shield against all outside noise,and his eyes fixed on the phone in his hand. He only noticed her racing towards him when she'd hopped onto the snow-laden sidewalk, coming to a sliding stop before him.
He had snatched out his vibrating ear buds and given an incredulous, "What is it?"
She had just turned her face away. He thought the whole thing odd. He had been on his way to meet her at Koushirou's house and had even been about to send a text letting her know he would be there soon.
A group of young siblings was heading their way, being led up the sidewalk by their mother. Their high chattering voices were an increasing threat to crash her chance. She had wanted a few moments longer to contemplate her words for Yamato but her time was soon to be cut off. Looking up at him, her attempted smile was a mere twitch at the corners of her nervous mouth. She didn't want to speak, too afraid to bumble the sentence aloud. Instead, she stepped closer and reached for the the back of his black pea coat, fingers numb from the cold working at turning the collar down.
The gesture was enough to somewhat ease the tension between them both. Her eyes shot back to him, watched his eyes blink soft blue flashes in the light.
"You can ask me," she said between a breath, "again. Today. Please."
He knew immediately what she meant and what her answer was. Something he had been wanting since last winter; for nearly a year.
A/N: I've gotten a few comments on Mimi's insensitivity towards Koushirou. But it surely wasn't my intent for her to come off as cold hearted, but rather just having greater, more passionate feelings towards Yamato. And I realized that she came off as such because I left out key details. In my head, Koushirou was in a simple accident which resulted in minor abrasions. Nothing serious at all, which is why Mimi could be so nonchalant about it. So, I went back and added those ever important details. :)
The inspiration:
At one glance
I love you
With a thousand hearts
- Mihri Hatun