Warning: Heavy references to The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya series. Erika and Walker are otaku, after all. This one is for all of you who've had to put up with your friend's obsessions. I know I have. Contains slight ErikaXWalker, because those two are adorable together both as friends and as a couple. XD I can seem them falling in love later.

D is for Dance

The most memorable part of that long summer was definitely—for Kadota and Togusa as well as Erika and Walker—was the dance.

Kadota remembers the first day he opened the van door, totally oblivious of the sensation called "Hare Hare Yukai". Ah, those days before that accursedly long summer began. Those were the days, before he was even aware of the insanely happy and upbeat intro the song, before the eternally cheerful voice of Haruhi Suzumiya ever pierced his ear, before that melody was the first thing he heard in the morning and the last thing at night.

"What the—!" The music booms insultingly in his ears.

"Dotachin!" echo the ever-cheerful pair.

"What… what the hell is that?" He points accusingly at the boom-box, as if there is clarification needed. He's too shocked, for once, to reprimand them for using that name.

"The Hare Hare Yukai!"

"Hare… Hare… Yukai?" What is that, some kind of Russian sushi or water-torture or something? Poor "Dotachin" is getting a headache already.

"I can't believe you don't know it!" Erika looks almost offended at his confusion.

"It's the latest craze in anime! It's a sensation, a revelation!" Walker and Erika grin like cats at each other before turning their crazed eyes back on Kadota. Walker eagerly violates Kadota's personal space, leaning in and preparing to impart the knowledge of the holy cult of Suzumiya to the poor, ignorant nonbeliever.

"Never mind, never mind!" Kadota backs rapidly out of the van and slams the door, cutting off the music, suddenly aware of how small and enclosed it is.

Back inside the car, Erika and Walker look at each other while Haruhi's voice booms deafeningly out of the cheap speakers.

"What's wrong with him?"

"Dunno. Dotachin is always like that."

Two weeks later, after listening to the song nonstop, after watching the slowed-down version of the dance online a few hundred times, after modifying it to fit only two people, their plan is official. At an obscenely late time of day, they crouch in the shadows, their faces bathed in the ephemeral glow of the laptop screen.

"Ne, ne, Yumacchi?"

"What?"

"Is it official? Are we really doing this?"

Walker looks back at Erika in the darkness. Her eyes are glowing a little with excitement, and in that moment Walker can admit something to himself. It is something that he's been denying for quite a while now, but that nevertheless, without the strength of acknowledgement or encouragement, has grown steadily and irremovably in to his heart. He doesn't know that one lovely fall day in the future he will dare to share this secret with Erika, and she will respond with a delightful secret of her own, and they will start a long journey together. He doesn't know that Kadota and Togusa will laugh when they (inevitably) find out, because it seems so right, because they knew all along. Right now, this is all the truth he can handle.

"Of course!"

He puts his hand over hers in the darkness. Their fingers fit well in the warmth of the night. Together, they move the mouse, and click on the order button on the website. Walker smiles at Erika through the sparkling blackness of Ikebukuro, and she smiles back.

"Oi, Yumacchi, I need to ask you—what the hell are you two wearing?"

Togusa almost spits out his coffee at the sight of Erika in her newly-arrived sky-blue skirt, with yellow ribbons woven in her hair, and Walker in an equally ridiculous dark turquoise school uniform with a dark red tie. Not only that, but they're dancing. In a synchronized fashion. In a manner reminiscent of the glory days of the reign of para-para-dancing. Oh, the horrors.

"Oh, Togusa-san! Do you like it?" By now, they're fairly fluent in the movements of the Hare Hare Yukai, and both can talk and carry on dancing without too much of a problem. On the screen of the laptop, the figures of three tiny anime girls mirror the movements of Erika and Walker, who are intended to be Haruhi and Itsuki respectively.

"Those are… cosplay outfits?" The sarcasm drips from Togusa's voice. "And where the hell do you intend to wear them?"

Erika and Walker grin and spin in to the final formation of the dance, breathing hard. "On the last day of summer, we're going to the middle of Ikebukuro—you know that big square?—and we're going to do the Hare Hare Yukai!"

Togusa winces a little. "You guys are such otaku."

But of course, that's the wrong thing to say, because to Walker and Erika, this is a compliment.

As the end of summer approaches, the respective nerves of Togusa and Kadota slowly become wrecks. More and more commonly, words such as these are heard:

"If I hear that song one more time…"

"You two know that you're insane, right?"

"Why the hell do you spend so much time doing this?"

"No one cares!"

"It's just an anime!"

"It's just a dance!"

"UGH!"

The only response is a pair of infuriating grins and ever-loudening music that rises up and drowns their protests in upbeat notes. The wills of Erika and Walker are truly formidable when gathered together, and Togusa and Kadota often find themselves sitting in the van by themselves while the otaku practice away, rolling their eyes and shaking their heads while Togusa drives at near-illegal speeds.

Soon, the big day arrives.

"You two okay?" Kadota eyes them suspiciously. Walker's literally bouncing up and down in the back of the van—their chosen transport to the auspicious location of their performance, of course— while Erika is pale as death and sits with her fists tightly clenched on top of her knees. Waxy white wire connects the earbuds, one in Walker's ear and one in Erika's, to the music player that sits quietly on Erika's lap, as they apparently mentally review their routine one last time.

Togusa rolls his eyes. "Leave them alone."

But Kadota can't. He looks at them some more, neck craned at an uncomfortable angle.

"Don't tell me… are you guys nervous or something?"

The silence is deafening while Togusa and Kadota stare first at their passengers, and then at each other. They burst out laughing.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me!"

"Really, guys, really?"

"My God, are they seriously nervous about this?"

They manage to stop mocking the pair in the back a few minutes later, when they don't respond, and change tact from making fun to half-serious comforting.

"Come on, you two. Get it together."

"You've practiced all summer, for God's sake."

Erika swallows hard; the yellow ribbons in her hair making her look even more childish than she already appears. "But if we mess up in front of so many people… that would be… be like…" Her explanation falters. "It'd be like our reputations as true otaku are damaged or something!" Erika's voice suggests it's a matter of no small importance. Walker glares at the two in the front seats a little when they roll their eyes, puts his arm around Erika hesitantly. She leans into his touch, and her fists loosen a little.

Togusa and Kadota look at each other, eyes widened half a centimeter. More has changed this summer than the state of their collective mental healths, apparently.

The van shudders to a stop. The door rolls open, bright morning light piercing the gloomy semi-darkness of the vehicle's interior. The plaza unfolds around them, crowded even this early on a warm Sunday afternoon. The sky is a brilliant cloudless blue, mirroring the blue of Erika's skirt, full of possibilities.

"Here we are."

They don't move, for a moment, sitting still in the shade. Then, they turn to each other, simultaneously, souls in sync to the beat of joyous music only they can hear. They read each other's eyes, and all doubt is erased in that instant.

"Let's go."

In the end, what is there to say about the actual day? It went by so fast for Erika, flew by for Walker. They danced the Hare Hare Yukai all morning and across the hot hours of the noon, over and over. They certainly attracted large crowds. Fellow otaku joined in. People laughed and pointed and took pictures, immortalizing the pair in a thousand cell-phone flashes. They chatted with other fans, posed together for pictures. They were scowled upon by some business people and smiled upon by others. An old lady shamed them all, explaining that her ten-year-old granddaughter loves the Suzumiya series and taught her the dance. They bought lunch, then dinner.

At some point, they sat sweating on the uncomfortably hot floor. When they next looked, two water bottles somehow seemed to have appeared next to their speakers. Erika and Walker looked at each other, thought of stern Kadota and Togusa, and laughed to know their friends are behind them, listened to the van rumble ever-so-discreetly away.

After noon passes, their dance disintegrates in to a mix of random hip-shaking to various upbeat anime themes in Erika's mp3 player and concentrated Caramelldansen marathons of up to ten minutes at a time. People come and go, come and go, while Walker whirls Erika around in an improvised waltz and Erika teaches Walker the moves to the Lucky Star dance. They attempt a two-person version of Gee, then try to modify the dance to fit twenty-five when people jump in. They try to decipher the choreography of Single Ladies, without much luck. Laughter is abundant. Joy washes over their skin like sweat. Spontaneity is the rule of the moment.

When the night is advanced, the van rumbles back in to the plaza. It stops next to the exhausted duo. Kadota and Togusa exit. Walker and Erika look up at them, too weak to get up, too happy to want to move. The silence connecting them is beautiful and comfortable.

"So," says Togusa.

"So," says Walker, and to Togusa it seems that the couple are glowing like angels in the night with the light created by their own joy.

Kadota kills the mood abruptly. "Can we please, please, please, never hear that fucking song again?"

Laughter at his desperation shatters the silence like the rattle of summer rain on a parched land. There's nothing better than the feeling of friendship on your skin and love in the air on a hot summer night.