Remember Me
By Confused Panda Bear
Part II.
"Present"
Gou returned to her childhood home the next day.
Hoping to be welcomed back with open arms, she instead, watched her mother dash past her previously hospitalised daughter and straight into the arms of her new husband.
"Haruka-kun, is everything alright...?!"
Gou eyeballed the awkward, one-sided embrace with an almost comic sense of betrayal.
"O-Okaa-san...!"
As promised, Haruka had drove her over first thing in the morning.
And as he cooked her breakfast, helped her load and unload her suitcases from the car, he did not utter a single word of what had conspired the day before.
He let the bitter atmosphere hang around them purposefully, an ominous cloud or elephant in the room that he chose to not acknowledge even though it was virtually impossible not to.
Gou wished he didn't do that.
She wished that he would yell at her, tell her how he really felt and make her feel even worse than she already did.
But he did not say a word to her, nothing that wasn't necessary.
Instead, she found herself waiting patiently for his attention, all morning and even up to now, watching him politely decline her mother's invitation to stay for lunch before taking his leave.
He didn't even turn to look at her as he made his way back to the car, the final stab in the chest that caused her to call after him desperately:
"Haruka-senpai…!"
He stopped in his tracks, only by the slight tugging he felt at the back of his shirt.
His stare was so glacial that Gou had to avert her eyes, but still held steadfastly on to the edge of the material.
She wasn't used to it yet, that unreadable expression of his as always; spurring a curiosity within her that wanted to know every single thought that went through his mind.
Was it always like this with him?
Did he make everyone feel this way?
She could spend a lifetime trying to figure him out, she thought.
He turned to her, slowly and even a little reluctantly, because both of them knew he had things that he wanted to say but neither wanted to hear them out loud.
He stilled and finally, she lifted her head: her eyes clashing with glittering blue, staring down at her intently, like he was taking in every detail of her.
A stray strand of hair blew across the bridge of her nose and just as she was about to reach up and tuck it behind her ear, found Haruka's hand ready at the action himself.
But in the end, he did not touch her.
He spun his heel, leaving her patently without words.
"See you," was all he had to say.
Haruka put the car into gear and made it down the road and one left turn before he had to pull over because he could barely think, let alone drive straight.
But he knew he had to get as far away from his wife as possible, before turned the car around and said something stupid and lost her for good this time.
So the next thing Haru knew, his foot was flattening the gas pedal to the floor and he was bulleting down the highway at an illegal speed limit.
The only thing that was able to stop him from reaching his final destination were the flashing colours of red and blue blinking up in the corner of his rear view mirror – the only other thing that could make his day even worse.
He pulled over, and not long after, there was a tap at his window.
"Sir, do you realise that you were driving over 60 on a 30mph road?"
The officer asked to see his licence, comparing the photograph to Haruka's unusually pallid face, and his knuckles even whiter from gripping the steering wheel too hard.
Mercifully, he handed the licence back to him.
"It's early, you're lucky no one else is around. I'll let you off with a warning this time, but try to be more careful driving around here," the officer reminded him. "I'm sure a young man like you has a wife and kids at home to think about, right?"
Gou was homesick – and it didn't make sense at all.
Because she was home, the house where she had grown up, and from her memory, the only place she had ever lived.
She had been rooming with Haruka for just over a month and felt as if she no longer belonged anywhere where he was not close by – in his blue apron cooking up something delicious, or dripping wet from one of his extraordinarily long baths.
As expected, Gou heard nothing from him in the first few weeks.
She learnt that he was doing well and back to work from her older brother, whom she hounded desperately for details of what he was up to; how was he feeling, and if he was feeling anywhere near as lost as she did.
To distract herself, Gou returned to work herself the week after moving back in with her mother – another place where she felt disconnected and inept – slowly growing irritated more each day by the pitying looks and patronising words from her work colleagues, that come the first Thursday afternoon, she was called into her boss's office and was told:
"Maybe you should go home for the rest of the week, Gou-chan? You shouldn't over-exert yourself in these early days…"
That evening, she arrived home to her mother sitting at the dining room table, with her scrapbooks and pouring over an article from a glossy magazine.
Gou got her hoarder tendencies from her mother – her love for scrapbooking and finding sentiment in even the most ridiculous of items – and in her passing curiosity, looked over her shoulder to see what she was working on.
Her vision zeroed in on a full page spread of Haru in a dark navy suit, hands in his trouser pockets, taking up a model-like stance and her pupils shrank.
She snatched the magazine from her hands, ignoring her mother's pointed and impatient: "careful, Gou!"
Her wide, red eyes skimmed over article, picking up words and phrases like: "up and coming," "genius," "prodigy" and "most exciting collection to date."
Gou's fingers gripped at the glossy paper to the point of almost tearing it.
"What is this?!" she demanded, her voice a high, feverish pitch.
"It's an article I found about Haruka's next exhibition," her mother spoke with an almost maddening impatience – as if it was supposed to be the most normal thing in the world.
She made a successful grab of the magazine before Gou tore it, laying the paper back down on the kitchen table carefully and smoothing out the creases.
She agreed to let her read the article, along with everything else she had gathered, on the condition that Gou would calm down.
"I can't believe you keep a scrapbook for Haru too…" Gou remarked, half amazed, half not really surprised.
Her mother smiled and raised the book at arm's length, admiring her handiwork.
"You might not remember anything about that boy," she explained, "but he's as much of a son to me as your brother is."
Her mother was serious – Gou and Rin had their own books knocking around somewhere too – though she was sure her own was nowhere near as impressive and Nanase Haruka's.
There were newspaper articles, reviews, brochures of his shows – and many pictures of him receiving highly prestigious awards where he wasn't even looking at the camera!
Gou had laughed at that.
For someone who takes photographs for a living, he sure hated having his own picture taken.
He had mentioned his profession before, but only when she asked, and never elaborating to this extent that Gou found herself scouring the internet for more information.
To her dismay, Haruka was scarcely spotted in public of gave many interviews. Some people called him a private person, whilst others had the audacity to call him arrogant.
Even so, his small Wikipedia page and two paragraph "About Me" section on his website told her more about her husband than she ever tried to find out in the time they had lived together.
Haru had been an aspiring swimmer during his time at university, but held no real desire to join a team or compete.
He had minored in art but his real love was for photography, where he built up a portfolio and debuted at a young age, shooting for high profile fashion magazines that Gou had idolised as a teenager.
Now, he held exhibitions all over the country, and his latest collection – ambiguously named "Future Fish" – was causing quite the uproar in the photography world.
It was nearing the early hours of the morning when Gou had just about scoured the entire world wide web for information on "Nanase Haruka" and decided to call it a night.
She tossed her laptop to the end of the bed and stared vacantly at the bedroom ceiling, berating herself: why hadn't she asked more about him, what he did when he disappeared into the dark room, or even asked to see the photographs he took?
Gou recalled with dismay, that she hardly asked about him at all; about his childhood, his likes, his dislikes or even their relationship – even how they met.
Haru never imposed any of that on her, never forced on her anything she did not ask for or wish to know.
She realised now that he was probably waiting for her to ask, to show a little curiosity in him – in them as a couple.
And it wasn't as if she wasn't interested, but she was overwhelmed and maybe a little scared.
She had woken up from her accident had felt out of her depth and she wanted to take control of something, anything.
Even if it were simply the amount of information she chose to know.
He would have shut the door in his face, if he hadn't put his hand in the way of the doorframe – and even then, Haru had half the mind to slam the door as hard as he could regardless.
"Nanase-san," Mikoshiba Seijuro urged. "Look, I only came over here because you weren't returning my calls..."
And with good reason, Haru thought, because for Gou's sake only, he had been avoiding Seijuro's messages and deleting his voicemails before he had a chance to listen to them.
It was a miracle in itself that he hadn't punched the guy in the face yet, given the perfect opportunity literally on his doorstep.
"Rin...had a word with me," Seijuro admitted.
Haru's eyes narrowed into slits.
"Rin needs to mind his own business."
Seijuro scoffed, "you and I both know that when it comes to his sister – her business is his business."
The knowing look he gave Haru irritated him more than it should have.
The fact that they had both dated his wife and had both suffered through the over-protectiveness of her bat-shit-crazy older brother was nothing to break bread over.
He took up an unwelcoming stance at the doorway, indicating no chance of an invite indoors.
"What do you want, Mikoshiba?"
"You asked her to move out," Seijuro stated, as if it were the most absurd reaction to have had.
"So?"
"Well, I think you're making a mistake."
Haru's hands fisted by his sides. "Why should you care?" he glared, astounded by his cheek. "You…"
"I kissed her, yes," Seijuro admitted. "She came to me for help, and I took advantage of the situation."
He looked at Haru then, eyes determined; sad, but nonetheless full of conviction.
"But she told me to stop. Because she was married – to you. Which you and I both know is more than she'd ever done for me."
Haru had lived alone since he was a teenager.
His parents had a chronic case of wanderlust; a travel journalists that would only visit home for days at a time, and his grandmother, who had been his carer in his earliest years, passed away peacefully in her sleep when he was at the brink of turning sixteen.
But Haru managed, as always.
He was used to being left alone.
So that was why he could not work out why it was so difficult adjusting to life without Gou.
He couldn't decide which was worse: living with her when she had no recollection of who he was, or living without her at all.
The way she treated him like a stranger was unbearable, how she had reacted when he kissed her was heartbreaking.
But in turn, their small apartment felt lifeless without her and he couldn't stand it – unable to live with the ghost of her sprawled out on their couch or her off-key singing as she attempted to cook in the kitchen – driving Haru to spend most of his days locked in his dark room, where he couldn't see or feel a thing but the images bathed in red light.
Letting himself with the spare key Gou had given him, Rin paced around his sister's apartment, registering the cigarette stubs and coffee rings littered over every surface before heading down the hall and almost kicking down the door of Haru's office when he found that it was locked.
Eventually, after some coaxing, Haru emerged like a hermit from its shell, wincing at the slither of daylight that came through as the opened door.
Rin gave him an uneasy once over.
"Jesus Christ, Haru. When was the last time you ate something?"
And besides the endless cups of coffee and the occasional off-limits cigarette, Haru was genuinely unable to answer the question.
He pressed the palms of his hands against his eye sockets, "I've been working," he dismissed.
Rin scoffed and scolded him all the same.
He glared, his vision finally returning. "Look, if you've come here to lecture me–"
"–I came here for Gou," his brother-in-law cut him off before they could bicker. "She asked me to check up on you."
Haru's eyes widened, as if that were the last thing he expected to hear.
"She's really worried about you, Haru. She asks for you all the time." Rin added, with a roll of his eyes: "it's kind of annoying."
Ignoring the latter comment, Haru returned his statement with a look of portent disbelief that the man had to remind him, sternly:
"It's been over a month since she's heard from you, Haru. Of course she misses you."
It was as if simply hearing from Gou brought upon a jolt of energy, like a gasp of air after holding your breath too long under water, enough to make his heart start beating again.
He had thought that returning her to her mother's – to somewhere familiar and away from him and all the turmoil and confusion that he brought – would finally make her happy, make her more at ease.
Haru had made that decision, admittedly on impulse, when Makoto had told him about Gou's visit to see Mikoshiba.
Because despite the pain he went through when she distanced herself from him, and the pain he would go through when she left – Haru could not stand it when she cried: and even more so when he could do nothing to help her.
He did not envisage, however, what kind of impact his departure would have had on Gou, especially in her current state.
She had begged him to let her stay, to give her another chance.
But he refused, and Haru realised now that he was being selfish.
She must have felt wretched, abandoned, like he had given up on her completely – but that wasn't the case at all.
He loved her, so much so that he couldn't believe that he had got it all wrong:
That being without her wasn't going to fix anything at all.
It was complicated, when they first started seeing each other.
Neither of them intended for it to last, or go as far as it did.
Partially because she was getting married in two months, and mainly because Rin had forewarned him against touching his sister with a bargepole.
And there were other girls, of course there were.
It was to make sure no one would suspect that anything was going on between them, and (he would only admit later on) to make Gou jealous.
There were models from his photoshoots with legs up to their armpits, and the occasional girlfriend who made it past date three and certainly held some potential – if not for them realising that Haru was vacant not in body but in soul and finally – he knew despite all warning or guilt, why he could not keep away:
Gou was made for him, and he for her.
When she woke up from her accident, slate wiped clean, Gou was distraught to find out that she and Hanamura Chigusa – her maid of honour and best friend since middle school – were no longer in touch.
Because of all the people who visited her whilst she was in hospital, she had expected Hana-chan to be the first.
They had not argued or fallen out, that is just how life worked out sometimes. Gou had just gotten married and Hana had moved to the States to be with her soon-to-be-fiance, so it had been easy for them to lose touch over the past couple of years.
Nevertheless, Gou could trust Hana to be on the first plane back to Japan when she called with news about her accident.
She could trust that girl with her life, she shared everything Hana-chan, to the uncomfortable degree that best friends usually do, and Gou was sure that she would be able to shed some light on the development of her relationship with Nanase Haruka.
"You didn't tell me about him," Hana revealed, to her dismay.
Gou's shoulders deflated in her seat, a comfy booth in a coffee shop they agreed to meet each other.
"I didn't?" she grimaced.
Hana shook her head negative, "I actually found out about you two at your rehearsal dinner. A week or so before your wedding."
And Gou physically winced with the second hand embarrassment of her own forgotten actions.
Had she really let whatever happened between them go on that long?
Was that why Haru was so reluctant to disclose the finer details of their relationship, especially with the knowledge that she was possibly still harbouring feelings for her ex?
"I know, I couldn't believe it either," Hana laughed, like it was her favourite story to tell. "You never kept anything from me, and I never let you forget it!"
Gou's cheeks coloured to the shade of her hair and Hana grinned, knowing that expression all too well.
She could not forget how the Nanase Haruka was looking at her friend the night – with hesitation – or was it anticipation? Either way, Hana could tell that he wanted Gou – by the way his eyes were fixated to her very being, possessing her in a way that was just as close, but without physically touching her.
Hana grew up noticing the way boys looked at her friend; how their eyes would linger when she tossed her hair over her shoulder, or how they would pause in the midst of their sentences to watch her laugh and shield her smile with her fingertips.
But it wasn't just the way that Haru was looking at her: but the way Gou had been looking at him.
It was as if she met him halfway in that hesitation, seeing into him, into each other, on a whole different level.
They arguing from what she could tell, but there was no shouting; no waving of hands or angered expressions.
They spoke hushed, urgent voices, with their faces close and they looked – almost alarmingly so – just like any other bickering couple.
In their own little world.
"I heard him propose to you that night–" Hana giggled at Gou's changing expressions, "–or at least, I think it was a proposal...?"
"What do you mean?" Gou pressed, and the woman tapped at her chin with her fingertip to further the anticipation.
"I remember he was angry, and you weren't listening to him, you were just trying to calm him down. He said that things had gotten too far for him to just up and leave and forget about you..."
Gou leant forward in her chair, eagerly soaking up the details like a sponge.
"...He said that he loved you, and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you…"
Without her even registering it, Gou's legs were shaking underneath the table, a tug of nostalgia somewhere in the marrow of her bones.
She could easily conjure up the smell of the air sweetened with champagne and canapes, and the biting spring breeze on that balcony, feeling like nothing compared the bitterness between them.
But what she could imagine, so potently as if it were really her memory, was the unbearable need to feel him close, and hating to deny herself from that privilege.
"...And then he said..."
Hana continued.
"'Kou – you should be marrying me instead.'"
He answered halfway through the second ring and she knew that he had already forgiven her.
"Kou?"
His low, rounded voice spread from her chest to her fingertips and all of a sudden, her tongue felt too large for her mouth.
"Is something wrong?" Haru spoke in her hesitance, and Gou leant her cheek against the receiver with a smile.
"No...I was just thinking," she said. "I haven't heard your voice really in a long time..."
Gou woke, like she had every day for the past week, at the sound of an incoming text message.
The sender's name that blinked up on the screen was enough to make her spring up from under her duvet to its attention.
NANASE HARUKA: Good morning. I know it's a Saturday, but don't sleep in too late today.
She giggled, rolled onto her stomach and typed a response straight away.
After a week of being back in touch, Gou realised how much she lived for his little updates.
True to his personality, his texts didn't elaborate on much, but he told her what he was up to when she asked; about work and the show he was putting together at the end of the month.
There was a reserved quality about their exchanges, of course.
A guy like Haru was not one to keep a grudge, but nevertheless a difficult person to win his trust back after he had been hurt.
But beggars can't be choosers, and Gou was more than happy with the steady stream of messages that came through because even though he didn't say it, Haru sounded healthier, a little more upbeat with every exchange, all of this confirmed by Rin who reported that he was no longer "moping about" and "feeling sorry for himself" – to use his own words.
It was the morning of Haruka's exhibition when her mother greeted her with breakfast and question of what she was going to wear to the event.
Gou looked up from her cereal dumbly, having been fixated on her cell phone laid centimetres away from bowl.
She answered, mid-chew: "but I haven't been invited..."
"Haruka hasn't mentioned it?" her mother repeated incredulously. "With your phone going off as much as it does these days?"
Gou'd head sunk into her shoulders like a guilty teenager.
"Well...he hasn't said anything about me coming..."
Typically, her mother waved off her concerns with a flippant wave of her wrist. "You don't need an invitation, you're his wife!" she laughed, as if things were really that simple.
Gou scrolled through his messages, noting that Haru had mentioned the event more than a couple of times, but never explicitly asking for her presence.
Still – even though they were not living together – she was his wife.
Her mother had been invited, so had her brother and their friends – and coming to an executive decision that the invitation would undoubtedly extend to her, Gou came to the belated realisation that she would be seeing Haruka for the first time in over a month.
She abandoned her breakfast half-eaten, stood from her seat and announced that she would start getting ready for the evening even though it was just turning 10am.
Dumping the entirety of her wardrobe onto her bed, Gou poured over several outfits for hours on end before deciding on a simple, black dress that she felt was unbearably plain but the only thing in her old wardrobe that she felt comfortable in.
Typically before any big event, her hair was uncooperative.
She pulled it into a ponytail like she had a thousand times before, but in the end, gave up on the endeavour and let her mother run a curling iron through her hair instead.
She left it loose, flowing down to the mid of her back, and after setting her make-up and threading her engagement ring on her finger, her outfit was finally complete.
The exhibit doors opened at 7pm, and with a half hour journey into town, Gou was already in the passenger seat of the taxi at quarter past 6.
Unfortunately her urgency was lost on her mother, who was still finding the right bag to match with her pair of shoes, and along with rush hour traffic, they were almost an hour late when the taxi pulled up in front of venue.
From her obsessive research, she knew that Haru was a well respected photographer in the modern art community but to her surprise, she could barely see his photographs from all the famous patrons and paparazzi filing into the hall.
She took no notice of them however, tip-toeing and neck stretching until, finally, she spotted him – effortlessly resplendent against the magnificent backdrop of his artwork, in dark fitted jeans and a tailored blazer to smarten up the look.
His profile became visible when a fellow patron approached, and Gou was shattered by just how much she liked looking at him – how familiar every gesture was, every fluid change of stance.
He was gorgeous, even on a superficial level, that Gou could easily envision how she become entrapped with him in the first place.
To her dismay, he was constantly engaged by a conveyor belt of people, greeting him, praising him one after the other for his marvellous work – women, in particular, hovering around him and his recent availability.
A brunette haired girl she recognised from his previous shoots was all too familiar.
She kissed him on each cheek as greeting; her paws lingering at his jaw, his collarbone through his shirt, laughing loudly at whatever little thing he said, which couldn't have been that funny because Haru was only ever funny when he didn't mean to be.
Infuriatingly, the girl was beautiful: tall and slim as she posed with Haru's arm around her waist for the press and paparazzi, and looking more at home by his side that Gou ever could.
She realised then, with paralysing dismay, that Haru didn't need her here – and after what she had done – he probably didn't want her here at all.
He wasn't even looking for her, she thought, he did not mention or invite her to the event, but just as Gou was turning to leave, he called out:
"Kou," his voice reaching out to her through the crowd. "Come over here. I'd like to introduce you to someone."
Like she had been caught in an invisible fishing net line between her chest and his, Gou found herself standing next to him without even realising it.
He lay a hand on the small of her back, his thumb stroking the dip of spine and introduced: "Aki-chan. This is my wife, Nanase Kou," the simple sentiment enough for Gou's heartbeat to swell to disproportionate sizes in her chest.
Was this what it was like to be married? Gou thought to herself.
To walk into a crowded room but not really feel as if you have arrived until he sees you, touches you, and sets you by his side?
She peeked up at his face; calm and composed and completely at ease in the situation.
She was being silly.
For all she knew, Haru had introduced her to people as 'his wife' a million times before.
The woman gushed over her – "of course, the famous Nanase Kou!" she grabbed Gou's hand before she could offer it, "Aki Yazaki – but please, just call me Zaki-chan..." – the initial embarrassment by her reaction followed by the unstoppable pride to have her name so closely interlinked with his.
Gou was left ashamed of her jealousy after Aki's warm greeting, especially when she asked after her health and expressed her condolences of her recent accident.
"It's nothing, just a little bump on the head," she insisted without thinking, regretting her answer when she caught Haru's sad smile in her peripheral vision.
Aki hugged them both tightly before she left to mingle. She gushed over the couple once more, expressing her delight in finally meeting Haruka's wife who he "always spoke so fondly about" – but her tiny, suggestive squeeze around her husband's middle did not go unnoticed by Gou that she strayed a little closer to him, all of a sudden territorial.
"She likes you," Gou tried to moderate the jealousy in her voice. She looked around at the photographs, her eyes narrowing, "and you like her. You photograph her a lot."
Haruka smiled to himself, hauling her by the waist as he brought her to his side.
"Yes, she has a great bone structure, so she photographs well..."
He lead them away from the crowds, and lowered his voice to a whisper:
"...But I think she is more interested in you than I."
It look a moment for Gou to discern what he was suggesting, only understanding when she spotted Zaki from the other side of the hall, her gorgeous, sunflower smile aimed straight in her direction.
"Gou-chaaaan!" the girl called with a wave, and Gou's face flushed an unnatural shade of red.
Haruka lead her around his exhibit for an undisturbed, exclusive tour in which she felt privileged to receive given the amount of people still filing into the venue.
There were large, colourful prints of a fireman and a cook enjoying their lunch break in an alleyway, and a little boy looking amazed by a display of balloons being released into a perfect blue sky.
To her delight, she recognised their friends and family also made an appearance – Dr. Rei Ryugazaki in his white coat, her brother on duty in his policeman's uniform, even Nagisa dressed up as an astronaut chasing aliens.
They were not posed, but candid photographs – mainly of friends laughing, enjoying lunch together and admiring the stars.
As she stopped to admire each piece, Gou was sure the abstract art critics would be able to come up with some sort of convoluted meaning behind the collection.
She, on the other hand, could not for the life of her work out what it all meant – but they say that art is an individual experience and for Gou, looking at Haru's photographs made her for lack of a better word, happy.
They gave her a sense of hope.
She had to ask, however: "why is it called 'Future Fish'?"
Haru's pursed his lips and pondered. "I guess the theme was 'The Future' and I like fish?" he offered, and Gou burst out laughing despite herself.
A faint smile played on his lips.
Haru asked, "do you like them?"
"I think they're exquisite," Gou completed breathlessly, but to her surprise, Haru smirked at her very genuine compliment.
"You didn't think much of them when you first saw them," he explained after her questioning.
Gou tore her eyes from the photograph of Rei in a laboratory and turned to him, patiently waiting for him to elaborate.
"I never told you the story of how we met," Haru continued, after some consideration. "It was the beginning of my career. I was having an exhibit just like this one, in a venue you were interested in booking for your wedding reception. You came for a tour and ended up looking at my photographs as well..."
Haru remembered the first time he saw her like it was yesterday.
He'd like to say that he fell for her at first sight, that sparks flew and they locked eyes across the room and instantly fell for eachother – but in reality, Gou had infuriated him – barging into his exhibit uninvited and frowning up at his pictures, insulting them in front of other patrons.
Haru smiled at the memory, "you called them..."
"...Pretentious! What's so great about them?"
Haru winced.
"I mean, a picture of a puddle?" Gou gestured incredulously at the image.
"Really?" Haru decided to remain diplomatic. He quoted his latest shining review: "I hear that the way he captures the flow of water, captures it's life and vivacity is revolutionary."
"Revolutionary?" Gou repeated incredulously. "I could take a better photograph on my cell phone with an Instagram filter!"
Haru continued:
"A week later, Rin introduced me to you as his…"
"…photographer friend for the wedding," Gou completed in horror. She held her head in her hands, "I am so sorry–"
"–It's fine," Haru waved off her apologies. "You don't remember, but you already apologised a thousand times."
Even so, Gou simpered on the spot and announced that was a memory she'd rather not remember.
Haru curved an arm round her unperturbed, hauling her into the shelter of his body in a demonstration of reassurance.
"Honestly I appreciated the…constructive criticism you gave me," he laughed at the face she pulled. "Everyone's been calling me a 'genius' or a 'prodigy' my whole life and you were the first person to actually call me out."
Gou dared to peek up at him, noticing that same, faraway look in his expression – the one that used to make her sad.
"When I first started out, I did everything myself," Haru explained, "I couldn't rely on other people to make my photographs good."
He smiled down at her, stopping her heartbeat in its tracks.
"You made me expand my horizons. I'd never be as successful as I am now if it weren't for you."
Leaving Gou with her brother and their friends, Haru went to do his 'rounds' with the sponsors and art collectors, largely absent for most of the evening until the event coordinators began gathering the crowds around the final, curtained photograph that, unlike the others, was hidden from display.
A man of not many words, Haru stood at the podium and thanked everyone for coming.
He explained a little about the exhibit, that 'Future Fish' actually represented his past and his present, a reminder to enjoy these moments instead of always worrying about the future; finally stating that this collection was largely inspired by the photograph he was about to reveal.
The curtain fell – the hall hushed with anticipation.
A hand flew to her mouth to silence a gasp.
It was photograph of Gou – and it was captioned:
'My Future.'
"A lot of people ask me where I am going with my art, what am I working on next. If there is one thing that I have learnt whilst taking these photographs here today, is that we are always looking to the future that we never stop to appreciate the present. The moments like this..."
Haruka gestured to the photograph, a candid shot of Gou sitting side on from the camera, her figure shadowed onto the bare wooden floors.
She was perched on what it appeared to be a window ledge, in paint splattered overalls and lounging with one leg bent to table a mug of tea, and the other dangling off the side with her toes barely brushing the floor.
She was looking outside of that window, head turned away from the camera that her only discernible features were her slight profile, and her crown of red hair and signature blue hair tie. The backdrop was of cloudless skies and overgrown trees, framed by curtainless window panes and half-painted bedroom walls.
The phrase: 'a picture is worth a thousand words' came to mind, as there was an uncanny silence at its reveal before the eruption of applause.
Haru continued:
"...With this in mind, I would like to take this opportunity to announce my indefinite hiatus..."
There was a collective gasp amongst the crowd; questions and outrage and camera flashes.
It was a good few minutes before Haru had the opportunity to speak again.
"...This photograph was taken before I had even begun compiling this collection," he explained, "and it was when I decided that I needed to focus on taking care of the most important person in my life. A lot of things have happened since, but my decision hasn't changed. I appreciate your support and understanding. Thank you all for coming tonight."
They hardly had the chance to speak to each other for the remainder of the night.
Not long after his speech, Haru was bombarded with questions and comments and demands for an explanation.
He was too young to retire, they said, at the peak of his career no doubt, but Haruka insisted despite all protest that the timing could not be better.
As the evening came to a close, Gou parted with Haru only to see off her mother.
Even after insisting on accompanying her home, the woman picked up on her reluctance to leave Haru on his own and was more than happy to leave her daughter in his hands.
"I'll only be in the way," she eluded with a twinkle in her eye, and was speeding off into the night before Gou could get a word in to protest.
When she made her way back into the venue, Haruka was speaking intensely with what she gathered to be art collectors, so Gou went to find Nagisa whom she had spotted earlier, taking advantage of the free food with the rest of Haru's friends.
They greeted her warmly, sending their praise and congratulations to Haru through her, and though she tried her best to engage with them, Gou found her attention wondering – somehow entrapped by Haru's presence and occasionally, he would catch her glance and make her sip at her glass of wine with increasing regularity.
"Goodness, are they always like this?" Zaki spoke as a stage whisper, leaving the others laughing and Gou went red in the ears.
Occasionally, she would edge a little closer to overhear small snatches of their heated discussion.
Haru did not say much, unwilling to entertain the feverish demands of the art collectors that were getting increasingly aggressive due to his non-reaction.
By the amount of money she had overheard being exchanged, the man could easily live a comfortable life from selling a single piece, but he looked disgruntled and, for lack of a better word, pissed off when he finally came to retrieve her.
Gou slipped her hand into his, encouragingly.
"Congratulations on the sell," she smiled.
Haru snatched a glass from a passing waiter, and hissed as the alcohol tore at his throat.
"I'm not selling it," he replied, probably in the same brash tone he had been using with the collectors.
Gou blinked, "you're not?" she asked.
And to her surprise, Haru brought the hand that was clasped around his to his lips, brushing them against her knuckles in covert demonstration.
She felt him smile against her skin, "do you think I'm comfortable with a stranger having a picture of my wife hanging on their living room wall?" he said.
It was difficult to hide her disappointment when Haru pulled the car up in front of her mother's house.
As the night came to a close, Haru asked if she "wanted to go home," and Gou had assumed he meant back to their apartment downtown.
But when he veered the car out of the city and towards her mother's place, she simpered in her seat wondering all the while how she could have been so shameless.
Nevertheless, she couldn't help but blurt out: "You're not coming in?" when Haru made no move to unbuckle his seatbelt with her.
He smiled, tilting his head to the side.
"You're drunk."
"I'm not."
"You always that."
Gou chewed on her bottom lip, the wine in her bloodstream rushing to her head and boosting her confidence.
"Can you at least see me to the door?"
She did not know what to expect, really. The walk was short and altogether unremarkable, that by the time Gou managed to find her keys at the bottom of her handbag, they had already reached the front porch.
She was being unreasonable, but she did not want to leave him, not after they had been apart for so long, and alcohol or not, was overwhelmed by an uncontrollable bout of irrationality when Haru left her on the doorstep without as much as a kiss goodnight.
"H-Haruka-senpai!" she called when he was halfway down the drive.
He turned to her, features hopeful.
"That place...where you took that photograph of me," she stammered. "Can...can you take me there?"
The photograph was taken at her grandparents house, a large estate in the seaside town of Iwatobi where Haruka had also grown up.
Haru explained during drive that Gou had inherited the property when her grandmother decided to downsize into, more manageable accommodation.
Gou had many fond memories of her visits as a child, spending whole summers playing in the vast gardens and watching Rin learn how to swim in the outdoor pool.
It was the perfect marital home where they could see themselves living and raising their own children, so when they finalised their marriage, he and Gou pooled in all of their savings and began to make the place their own.
The house had not changed when they had first moved in, he said, still with the same, worn carpet, outdated floral wallpaper and overgrown acres of land.
But Haru had fallen in love with the estate as much as she had. It was a part of her past and they were determined to make it part of their future too.
Gou was so silent as he lead her around the house, showing her their renovations that Haruka had to stop and ask if she were okay.
She spoke as if she were in a daze.
"Why," she swallowed, "didn't you take me here before?"
"Rei recommended you stay close to the hospital where he worked, just in case," Haru explained. Then, he struggled, "And well...we all thought that it would...overwhelm you, a little…"
It did overwhelm her, Gou thought.
It filled her with overwhelming sense of home.
It all made sense to her now.
More so than their temporary apartment in the city, Gou could easily see herself living there, in fact, she could see both of them living there.
Memory or not, her mind could easily conjure up the image of cooking breakfast in the kitchen, of Haruka's long limbs sprawled over the living room couch, musing over the morning crossword.
They spent every spare moment they had working on this house, Haruka explained.
They had invested a lot of time and money replacing the old ceiling beams and re-scaping the garden. They had completely refurbished the kitchen, fixed the plumbing, redecorated the lounge and the majority of the bedrooms, and though her grandmother's place was now virtually unrecognisable, there was still a lot to be finished.
"What's in there?" Gou had asked, as Haruka lead her past a closed door without any acknowledgement.
He looked at her like she shouldn't have even asked.
"That's the airing cupboard," he answered quickly, though his voice was trained into this usual nonchalant expression that lead her to believe that nothing was amiss. "I wouldn't go in there, it's full of junk right now."
Finally, he brought her to their latest project, the dining room that faced the garden outside, which still smelt like the paint and plastering from their visit months and months ago now.
It had always been her favourite room in the house because it reminded her of the best of her childhood memories: the birthdays cakes and Christmas dinners, and the hours spent helping her late grandfather with a thousand piece puzzles on the vast mahogany dining table.
Compelled with a sudden inspiration to restore the room to it's former glory, Gou grabbed up a roller brush in her usual can-do attitude, and announced that they should finish decorating this room whilst they're here.
Haru sized her up, his gaze roaming right down to her toes.
He raised brow at her pretty dress that she had spent more time deliberating over than she was willing to admit.
"Don't you want to get changed?" he said.
Gou blanched at his robotic delivery, only realising then that she was holding out for a compliment.
"I–I didn't bring a change of clothes," she recovered lamely.
Haru paused, appearing contemplative.
After a minute, he stated simply: "You have some clothes upstairs."
Soon, Gou was clad in a t-shirt and a pair of unflattering old jogging bottoms with no idea how she was all of a sudden spending her Saturday afternoon redecorating.
But it didn't matter, of course, because she was spending time with Haru, silently working away to the sound of the radio blaring through iPhone speakers and she wondered: how she could have once hated the silence between them, when now, it felt like the most natural thing in the world?
Almost four hours passed when Haru and Gou took a step back to admire their handiwork.
By now, the sun had set, and it was over an hours drive back to the city.
Haru handed her a much needed half-cup of tea whilst she sat at the breakfast counter, watching him put together a snack.
"It's getting late," Gou spoke without consequence.
Haru's reply was automatic.
"Yes, I'll take you home soon."
Gou dealt him a sideways glance, before training her eyes to the skyline through the kitchen window, her small mouth compressing into a straight line.
Haru knew that look, because he had seen it many times before – usually when he said the wrong thing or nothing at all – or worse, that time when he was supposed to say "no, sweetheart, you don't look fat in those jeans."
"Or we could stay here?" Haru suggested, after a silent minute. "We...you have everything you need upstairs," and an executive decision was made.
The gravity between them shifted, as noticeable as the day turning into night.
Barefoot and clad in nothing but a towel, Gou crept into the master bedroom where Haru had said that her spare clothes were kept.
He had been using the en suite shower whilst she used the main bathroom, so she tapped lightly on the open door before she entered, only to find him asleep on the bed with his hair still dripping wet and a white towel tied around his waist.
Gou remembered the decorating they had did, all furniture they had moved around – and with Haruka insisting on doing the bulk of it – and realised just how exhausted he must have been from their day's activities.
But he didn't look tired, she mused: his breathing was relaxed and even.
Even the expression impressed across his face as he slept showed nothing else but complete and utter contentment.
Gou smiled to herself.
She always thought he was the most handsome when he wasn't frowning.
The mattress sunk with her slight weight as she crossed the large bed to join him.
She hovered over him on her hands and knees to study his sleeping face, touching his lips with her fingertips before she dared to lower her own down onto them.
A drop of water from her bangs fell onto his cheek and his eyes snapped open immediately.
She would have launched herself across the room if it wasn't for his hands that secured her position at her waist.
"Kou…?" he said, sleepily.
"I was just–I didn't mean–"
Haru smiled lazily at her, his grip relaxing.
"Then I'm disappointed," he said.
Taking her with him, Haru rolled onto his side, removing her from what she belatedly realised was a very compromising a position.
He turned to face her instead, his temple rested on his bicep, and in registering their close proximity, Gou became painfully aware of the fact that this was – from what she could remember – the first time they had been in a bed together.
"Don't worry. I'm not going to do anything," Haru said in a smooth, sleepy tenor. "Considering what happened last time…"
But as he spoke, he traced the line of her waist with his free hand: following the curve of her hips and thighs: his touch searing even through the thick towel secured around her.
She shuddered and he stopped.
"...No," he completed abruptly. "You will have to want it."
His hands left her far too soon and Gou let out a lungful of air, not even realising that she was holding her breath.
"That being said, I have to remove myself from any tempting situations," he continued a little too lightheartedly, and with a chaste kiss on her forehead, picked himself up off the bed and took a seat at the window ledge positioned on the opposite side of the room.
He scrubbed a towel through his hair, eyeing her form before averting his stare to the corner of the room and Gou could safely says that she had never seen anyone look more depraved.
Gou straightened up to face him, her limbs like jelly and ruefully conscious of the internal upheaval that resulted only from being in Haru's radius.
Carefully, she tread towards him, clutching at her towel all the while and painfully aware of her appearance simply by the way Haru's eyes seemed to drink in every inch of her skin that he could see.
She stopped in front of him and he looked up at her; his cool gaze meeting hers calmly before indulgently scanning the length of her body – drifting south from her face, sizing her up.
The gaze he gave the towel tucked around her chest was as if he expected it to drop without command.
She adjusted her grip and he cocked his head to the side, daring her curiosity.
"Haru, I…"
She lifted her lashes slowly, eyes clashing with glittering blue.
It was a gaze that was so inviting that it felt like she was falling into a whole different universe, too vast and too divine to comprehend.
She couldn't help but kiss him then – somehow hesitant but insistent all at the same time.
She kissed him hard like he had done that time in the kitchen – hard, urgent and with everything she had – wondering all the while if he liked it, was it the same as before, was she everything that he remembered?
Gou frowned.
It wasn't fair, having to compete against herself.
It didn't help that Haru was being cautious, largely unresponsive given how she had reacted when he had kissed her before.
Even though she felt the slight pressure from his lips on hers, he wasn't reacting like she had hoped as she kissed him deeper, straddling his lap so that her legs fell on either side of his; her hands braced on his shoulders whilst his stayed planted on either side of the seat.
In her frenzy, ther towel had fallen and rucked around her hips and she hadn't realised until she followed Haru's wandering gaze and grabbing his wrists, urged him to cover them back up with his hands.
"Haru," she whimpered. "Please..."
She heard the catch of his breath, a moment before he devoured her mouth with the hot, hard heat of his own.
With one arm secured around his waist, the other reached took fitfuls of her hair in his between his fingers, tilting her head up to his and crushing her chest against his, and finally, Gou got what she wanted.
His tongue flickered past her lips and her hips rocked against his to rhythm completely unknown to her.
With shameless impatience, Gou reached down the space between them and watched him moan and his head tilt backwards with the focus in his eyes.
He was long, thick and hard enough for her to wrap both of her hands around him; her touch eliciting the most incredible reaction from him that made her quiver as if she could also feel his pleasure.
Feeling bold, she ran her thumb over the tip of him and watched his jaw muscles flex underneath his skin.
He swore under his breath and she was left in awe of the way that he reacted to her – even the look he gave her behind hooded eyes left her breathless and totally dispossessed of all rational thought.
Placing his palms underneath her thighs, Haru stood upright and lifted her up with him, muffling her yelp of surprise with his mouth on hers.
Still in a tight lip lock, he moved them across the threshold of the room and lay her down on the bed, giving her only a second to regain her composure before he came over her on his hands and knees and kissed her with intent to consume.
She should have been embarrassed, overly conscious of her nudity, but as he ran his knuckles down her bare stomach, all she could think about was how she wanted him closer – until he was as close as he could possibly be.
Already, her nails were digging half crescent moon shapes into the tops of his shoulders as his fingers travelled down further, spreading and skimming where she most needed to be touched the most, but denying her the intimacy for long enough to drive her out of her mind.
Every inch of skin he caressed, kissed and licked, pulsed and tightened over her bones before finally, he pressed her back on the bed and took her mouth and she could taste herself on his lips.
He pushed himself inside her, so fast it knocked the air out of her lungs.
She must have gasped loudly with the movement because he breathed with barely concealed restraint: "Did I hurt you?"
Gou shook her head negative.
He was, in fact, a startlingly perfect fit.
"I'm sorry," Haru apologised nonetheless, though there was a playful curve to his lips as he explained: "I couldn't wait."
His movements slowed, mingling somewhere between the lines of pleasure and torture, the sensation new enough to shock and send her heart thumping under the command of a whole new experience that for some reason felt like coming home.
Haru knew exactly how to push her buttons. The sensitive spots behind her ears and the long, dragged out kisses on her lips, her neck, the inside of her thighs – his touch everything like a lovers should be, familiar yet exciting and just enough to drive her over the edge with an insatiable need that burned throughout her entire body.
She could not remember wanting anyone more; thinking anyone looked and felt more magnificent as he did when watching the way his arms flexed and his abdominal muscles rippled as he ground his hips into hers.
Their bodies seemed to rush towards each other with increasing urgency.
She could feel her hips moving on their own accord, rising to welcome every thrust, and she could hear his harsh breath mingling with the broken syllables of her name, building up until they cried out in unison and he collapsed on top of her, spent: a welcome weight on her heart.
Catching his breath, Haru pulled away from her, drawing one last, languorous kiss from her lips before drawing their bodies close once more.
"What do you think?" he said against the base of her neck. "Remember me yet?"
Gou pressed her lips against his damp shoulder, unable to stop herself from smiling.
"No," she said. "But we can keep trying?"