Chapter 6

"Takashi, do you like being with me?" Honey posed this question late in their third year of Ouran. His cousin replied with an affirmative sound.

It was spring. Sakura trees were blossoming and the weather was improving. It was likely going to be their last year together, and Honey could not help but to feel guilty. It had been a nagging feeling for quite some time now, when he realized that there would be a day where him and his best friend would separate.

"But, do you ever want… anything more?"
Mori shook his head, continuing their walk home without thinking much of his cousin's question.

Honey dropped the topic then. But now it was the middle of summer, the start of university approaching quickly. The little blonde was unsure whether Mori realized that they would have to spend their days separately, being in different programs and all.

He knew his cousin well. They had spent their entire life together. Honey had a growing feeling that Mori had this notion of still protecting him, regardless of what happened in the future. While it was his duty, Honey often saw Mori as an equal. He was by no means a servant.

Mori however, saw himself differently. He never thought of himself as a servant, he was only doing his duty. He had a tradition to uphold. There was no questioning such a concrete concept. His life revolved around Honey, no matter what.

The cousins were walking back from the cake shop on a summer's day during their vacation. Mori held his cousin's hand as they usually did. But today, Honey gently pried himself away, an action that surprised Mori.

"Takashi, do you ever feel trapped?"

Mori perked up at that question.

Do you ever feel trapped? Hana's voice replayed in his head. It was like déjà vu.

"Why?" The thought of being trapped never crossed his mind. Why would he ever feel trapped? Honey tugged onto the hem of his cousin's shirt, bringing him down to his height. Honey covered Mori's eyes, to which Mori obediently closed his eyes in response.

"If I asked you to follow me with your eyes closed, would you do it?"

Mori nodded, eyes still closed.

"You can't do that anymore," Honey sniffed. It was hard for him to tell his best friend to leave. But it had to be done. It was the best option for the two of them. Honey cared for Mori just as much as his cousin did for him. Honey swallowed the lump in his throat. "You cannot blindly follow me for the rest of your life."

Mori opened his eyes, the immediate sight was his cousin welling up with tears.

"I have to protect you," the giant murmured. "It is my duty."

Honey's tears began falling down his cheek while he shook his head. "You need to live freely, Takashi. I can't ask you to stay beside me."

"Do you want me to stay?"

Honey pouted. "You're my best friend. You're family. You are always with me." He hugged his cousin, who in return, picked him up from the ground and walked him home.

Hiro was given one year from his parents to pursue his hobby of music, as they called it. He was more than thrilled, seeing it as an opportunity to launch his own career. He was busy as ever, sending demos to companies while sharing his music through the internet and in nightclubs. Hiro barely caught a wink of sleep, but he couldn't be any happier.

So when the Sawada family came together for a dinner, it was a rare occasion. The siblings sat on one side of the table, while their parents sat opposite. Their father was never the one to talk, and it was usually their mother making conversation. She informed him of the lives of their children for the most part.

"Hana," their father cleared his throat. "What are your plans for the future?" He gave a quick glance at Hiro who ducked his head down. It was his mother who approved of a gap year, not his father who wanted him to go to university.

"I'm thinking New York," she answered.
"Oh! New York! Yes, a fashion capital – perfect for your career, Hana. Absolutely wonderful," her mother gushed. She turned to her husband. "Don't you think—"
"For business," she raised her voice. "I'm thinking of going to the Stern School."

Hiro looked up from his plate and stared at his sibling. His parents also put their cutlery down, equally surprised by the statement made by the youngest member of their family.

"What?" Hiro gasped.
"Yeah, I… thought it would be a good idea. Finance is practical." Hana cut through her steak, looking down at her plate. She was made suddenly uncomfortable by the stares of her parents who took a moment to digest the information.

"Darling, you need not go to Stern," her mother waved off. "You'll be engaged in a few years at most, and you won't need to go through the hassles of scho—"
"—Hiro could learn from that," the father glanced over to his son. Hiro shrugged.

"If push comes to shove, Hana could always inherit the company," the son suggested. "I could focus on my music and—"
"Nonsense," their mother waved off. "Hiro, you can go explore during your youth. You do whatever you please but you'll come back to us, right dear?"
The boy cleared his throat and reluctantly agreed. It was obviously a lie. Hana looked back down to her plate, feeling small again.

A blanket of silence covered the rest of the family's dinner. When dessert was served, Hana put down her cutlery and looked up from her plate. She had enough. The question had been nagging her ever since it had been brought up during the dinner.

"Why can't I be the one to inherit the company?" Hana assertively asked.
"Hana, don't be silly," her mother brushed her off.
"This is not silly. This is a legitimate proposal. I deserve to be the heir just as much as Hiro. I'll certainly be just as capable if I go to New Yo—"

"No," their father raised his voice. The girl fell silent. "You are not the heir and you will never be the heir."

The daughter got up from her seat and respectfully bowed. She left the table without another word. Hana could hear her brother calling out to her, but her mind was already made. She was going to NYU, and that meant getting a head start on her studies. This was her fight.

Without Honey, Mori buried his head in books while he was in university. He had loads of essays to write, and it seemed as though that was all he did. Papers to be submitted, readings to be done, lectures to attend. But in comparison to Honey's engineering schedule, his schedule was mild. He had a maximum of 3 classes a day.

It was only Mori that immersed himself in his academics. There was nothing else for him to do. Every time he stopped, he felt lost. Confused. Uneasy about what to do. Mori was used to living the simple life.

Training. Kendo. Academics. Honey.

Now, his grandfather spent time on Chika and Satoshi since the older grandchildren were off in university. Honey was much too busy with the engineering program to have time to spare. So that only left academics for him to focus on, and without it, Mori often found himself running. Running anywhere, through the park, past alleyways, around campus, in the neighbourhoods – you name it.

Do you run?

He often heard her voice at the back of his mind while he sprinted.

It clears my mind. It… distracts me.

One day, he found himself in the park in the autumn. He ran around to wherever his legs took him, and today he had her voice replaying in his mind again. It was the same park they walked through a year ago with their grandparents after their sparring session that ended in a draw. His legs halted to a stop as his memories replayed. He panted and leaned against the tree. Mori waited for his body to recover.

I envy you… for having direction in your life.

He still remembered the way she looked at him when she said those words. But here he was, running without direction. Running because he needed a distraction. Mori now understood her in ways that he wished he could have a year before.

But he was too late. The only glimpse of her he had was through billboards and magazines. He hadn't seen her in months. He almost wished that she would show up again, somehow.

Mori snapped out of his daze when a dog barked at him, and then growled after getting the attention of the stranger. He pushed himself off of the tree and approached the animal, slowly at first. He was cautious enough so that the dog would come forward to sniff his hand before allowing the human to scratch its head. The pair had a couple of minutes before the owner came around, casually strolling.

"Takashi," the elder recognized the familiar figure. The dog obediently went back to its owner and plopped itself down on its hind legs. Mori instantly bowed out of respect. The park was nearby the elder Sawada's residence after all. He should have expected to see him.

"I see you have met Hana's replacement."

Mori stood back up and widened his eyes when he realized that the grandfather was speaking about the dog. He stifled a chuckle.

"It was actually her idea," the grandfather shrugged. "Told me that it would keep me company while she's gone, but all it has done is give me trouble." The dog whimpered at the tone of its owner. The grandfather huffed. The dog was smarter than what humans took it for.

"How old?" Takashi asked.
"Only three months. They grow quickly. It is a guard dog, after all."

Mori nodded and kneeled down to pet the animal again. It had a beautiful fur coat, a sandy colour paired with snow white beginning from its snout to under its belly.

"What are you doing here?"
"Running," he answered, still occupied with scratching the underside of the large sized puppy.
"You training?"
"Not anymore, Sawada-san," Mori replied.

The dog nuzzled its neck against the new friend. Mori got up, realizing that he must have taken up too much of the elder's time. He was in no place to be rude.

"Do you run often then, Takashi?" the elder was curious.
"Weekends, usually."
"Train with me," Sawada offered. "Old man like me with nothing else to do besides taking care of this goddamn dog. Besides, your old goon has two other little shits to take care of."

Mori nodded, careful not to smile at the language.

"Saturdays, 8 AM. You know where the dojo is. I will see you next week." The elder left swiftly with his dog, while Mori bowed.

It was winter break, and Hana had promised her grandfather that she would come around to spend time with him. With her applications for various universities submitted, and with her supplemental essays completed, Hana made the effort to clear her schedule for the rest of the month.

Hana bought a dozen apples and dog treats for Kaina. It was short for yakkaina, aptly named by her grandfather who instantly called the puppy annoying when Hana first brought the dog to his home.

"You're kidding, Hana. An old man like me has no time for a tedious animal in the home."
"I promise you'll grow to love her. You have all the time in the world! Look, she'll keep you company while I'm gone. She can walk with you to the park now." The puppy comfortably sat in her arms, snuggling up to Hana. She put the small animal down and let it cautiously approach the stranger standing in front.
"I don't need a dog to keep me company. I don't need anyone." The dog sniffed the legs of Hana's grandfather. It barked, as if asking for the man to look at her. It needed attention, like any regular puppy.
"Please? I have university applications to do while working and… I don't know if I can train—"
"—Fine, god damn it. You know what that thing is? Yakkaina. Annoying as hell."

Hana had the keys to her grandfather's home, given to her years ago when she needed to come around for whatever reason. It's good to keep around, just in case. Her grandfather said when he handed them to her. Instead, Hana often came around to just say hello, or to have a quick meal with her grandfather.

When she opened the doors of the traditional home, she was greeted by Kaina who was quick to recognize the intruder. It began sniffing around, obviously taking note of the treats that Hana brought over. The girl welcomed the nuzzling of the dog who had grown immensely since the last time she had seen it. Hana stepped into the home, realizing that no one was there.

She was quick to make herself home in the kitchen, slicing apples for her grandfather for when he came back home. Hana's ears perked up at the doors opening and called out for her grandfather.

"Ojii-san, I brought your favourite apples!" Hana made her way from the kitchen into the common area and nearly dropped the plate when she noticed someone other than her grandfather step through the door. He was carrying a large bag of dog food, and he was equally surprised to see her in the home.

He was dressed casually, with his usual windbreaker and sweatpants. His hair was messier than usual, due to the wind outdoors. He had a slight pink tint from his cheeks. It was rather chilly outdoors, but despite that, his feet were bare as he took his shoes off when he stepped into the home.

"Takashi?" Hana couldn't quite pinpoint why he would be here of all places.

"Hana," he reciprocated, though his tone was calmer and less questioning than hers.

The elder finally stepped through the doors with grocery bags to find the two staring at one another, frozen in place. He rolled his eyes at the behaviour of the children.

"Takashi has been training with me and offered to help me do some heavy lifting for the day," the grandfather explained. "I'll be in the kitchen. Stay for dinner, Takashi."

Mori couldn't even protest before the elder walked into the kitchen and began preparing their meal. Hana swiftly put down the apples onto the table and tried helping Mori with the weight on his hands. He easily diverted her offer of help by placing the kibble in its usual place. Hana thanked him before asking him to sit by the table for the apple slices.

They sat in silence for a bit, with Mori taking in the sight in front of him. She had a comfortable oversized knitted sweater that casually dipped down over one shoulder, paired with a simple silver necklace and black leggings that stopped right at her ankles to show her bare feet. Her long hair was tied up and swept to the side of her body, providing a bit of a blanket to her exposed shoulder. Mori finally made his way to her eyes, the large doe eyes that waited for him to meet with hers. He cleared his throat out of embarrassment for being caught staring.

"I appreciate you spending time with my grandfather," Hana whispered. She didn't seem to mind him staring. "I know how busy you must be with university and all. You really didn't have to."
"It's fine." It became a regular phrase said by Mori.

Hana nodded. "Thank you." The sincerity of her tone did not go amiss.

Hana's grandfather prepared a simple meal. White rice, miso soup, some braised vegetables, and grilled fish. The dinner started off quietly, with a comfortable silence between all three. The elder Sawada broke the silence.

"It is your birthday soon, Hana."

The girl looked up from her rice bowl and took a moment to remember the date. Her birthday was only a few days away. She was born in December, when the winds grew stronger and the snow began to fall. It was the season where people bundled up to brave the weather. The season where all one can do is grit it out until clearer skies and better weather. Despite that, it was still her favourite season.

"Mm," Hana nodded and brushed off the fact. Mori tilted his head at the girl who took another sip of her miso soup. They finished off their meal in comfortable silence.

The elder Sawada cleared the table and left the two alone for a bit.

"How did you end up with my grandfather of all people?" Hana curiously asked. Kaina plopped herself beside Hana after missing her presence for months. Mori watched as the girl smiled at the animal, petting the coat with such delicacy with her cold fingers. He didn't know if they were cold, but he just imagined that they were. Something about her made him want to reach out and hold those hands.

"I was… running," Mori explained. "Through the park."

The sentence was enough for Hana to piece together what had happened. Hana was about to ask how his days at Toudai were, before her grandfather reappeared with a sake set and placed it on the table.

"You are turning 17, Hana. Have a drink with me."

Hana scowled. "The age of majority is 20, Ojii-san. Save it for three years."
"Will you be here in three years? Better yet, will I be here in three years?"
"Ojii-san! Don't say such things," the granddaughter scolded.

Mori felt a small smile creep up to his face. He never had such relations with his own grandfather, seeing that he had a total of four grandchildren to divvy up his attention to. It was an interesting experience to be a part of Hana's interaction with her grandparent.

Hana sighed and knew that there would be no promises made for what was meant to happen in three years. For all she knew, she could be spending the next few years abroad without much time to travel back to Japan. The grandfather poured the sake into the traditional ceramic cups, enough for all three.

"You too, Takashi. Fair payment for all the errands you've done for me," the man patted Takashi on the back. Hana gave a glare to her grandfather, disapproving of his payment towards Takashi. But she took a deep breath and cautiously took the cup of alcohol.

The group clinked glasses and drank it in one go. Hana was the first to put the cup down to cover her mouth. It was horribly bitter than what she expected. Her forehead crinkled with her eyes as she tried to let the taste sit in her mouth.

Hana's grandfather laughed. "It gets better, Hana." He poured the girl another shot, and refilled Mori's cup. His face was expressionless. Hana couldn't tell whether he enjoyed it or if he was incredible at hiding disgust.

Hana looked into her cup and saw her reflection in the clear liquid.

"Stop hesitating, Hana."

The phrase had already conditioned her to do whatever was asked immediately. Be it a punch, a kick, or now, a shot of sake, Hana immediately downed the second cup. The bitter taste had an oddly nice lingering taste. She immediately felt warmth tingling down from her throat into her stomach, emanating from within. Hana put down the cup, ready for another shot.

"Easy there," the elder Sawada chuckled. "Back in my day, Takashi's grandfather and I would share bottles upon bottles of sake until we couldn't see straight. Your grandfather would say the dumbest things, Takashi."

"Like what?" Mori asked.

"Silly things like, we should name our grandchildren after each other. Or, what if we pitted our grandchildren together and bet on who would win?"
"Wait, so – all those years of sparring came from a drunken idea?" Hana was mortified. But the two men only laughed. They saw the humour where Hana did not. It must have been a guy thing.

"We once tried sparring drunk when we were young," the grandfather reminisced. "We woke up to bruises on our bodies and we both claimed that we had a good fight – but we were kidding ourselves. It was obvious the bruises were self-inflicted from falling on top of objects since we couldn't walk straight."

The elder Sawada poured another glass for the three to share. He deemed that it was enough for the children. He had to be at least somewhat responsible with the grandchildren. The three downed another cup of sake. The grandfather made Hana and Mori stand up to walk across the room. He deemed the two to be sober enough to get themselves home, although Mori seemed a little… off.

Mori spent some time with the dog, laying down on the ground and chuckling with the animal. It was oddly out of character for him. Hana's grandfather pulled his granddaughter aside and told her to take him home, knowing that she had a driver to pick her up. The girl assured that she would obey.

"He takes after his grandfather," Sawada chuckled. "Can't hold their alcohol like Sawadas can."

Hana rolled her eyes. "He's not drunk, he's just happy."

Mori knew he could walk straight. He was able to do everything as he did while sober. But he just felt nice and warm. He felt so good. There wasn't anything else to describe this feeling. It was relaxing. It was wonderful.

The two walked through the park in the dark, braving the cold weather. But the alcohol did enough to keep their bodies warm, even while the wind blew. Hana watched the boy closely, careful to not let him stumble. He had a ridiculous grin on his face, paired with pink cheeks and it was something she never saw. She had never seen him so happy and Hana too, found his happiness to be oddly contagious. But mostly, it was amusing to see the giant looking like he was on top of the world.

When he accidentally stumbled towards her, Hana was quick to hold onto him by the waist.

"I've got you," she whispered. "Easy… easy…"she led him to a bench in the park. It was probably best that they sat for a while before getting up again. Mori still had a silly grin on his face when he saw her looking at him.

"What are you so happy about?" she asked.
"I just feel good," Takashi answered, dragging out the word. "Like, I can forget all the pestering thoughts in my mind."

Hana patted his arm. "I feel like that too." She found it nice to have him speak more than three words at a time. He wasn't terribly drunk, just enough to get a nice buzz. For Hana, she felt warm and relaxed. Not quite enough to begin acting out of character.

"I've missed you," he mumbled. He watched the snow slowly fall from the sky while he sat on the bench. "I thought our orbits would not align anymore and then I couldn't see you, ever."

"Orbits?"

Mori continued on with the thoughts in his mind. "You went away, orbiting somewhere and then I lost my way… falling out of orbit."

Hana could only listen to the boy swaying from side to side, enchanted by the snow falling on the ground. Mori had a pink glow to his cheeks from the alcohol.

"What orbit, Takashi?" Hana gently asked. He turned to face her again, captivated by how close her face was to his. He pulled back and shook his head.

"Nothing," he mumbled. "Things about finding purpose in life and… losing direction."

Hana nodded. She didn't understand what he meant entirely but she could imagine that he had the same thoughts as she did when she contemplated life. A nagging feeling that neither of them could get rid of. Society placing pressure on you to figure out what you were meant to do with your life when you had barely lived two decades. It was unfair. It was terrifying. And here they both were, sharing the same feelings. Feelings of conflict, confusion, and most of all, loneliness. All they needed were distractions. And for Mori, it was training, or running. For Hana, it was now her academics and work life.

She took his hand in comfort. Mori looked down at the source of warmth and back to her face.

"You'll find your purpose someday, Takashi. Maybe not today. But someday… we'll figure things out."

Takashi nodded. Tightening his grip on her hand, as if he were making a silent promise to her. They stayed in silence for a while, breathing the refreshing cold air. Snow kept falling while they sat on the bench.

Hana noticed his eyes drooping, noting that he must have been tired. She suggested that they get home and dragged him up from the bench, seeing that they hadn't let go of each other's hands. She still had quite bit of strength, tugging on his arm and causing him to obediently follow.

"Are you cold?" he blurted out. "Your fingers are usually cold."

Hana shook her head and continued walking, leading him out of the park. Mori had a feeling that she was lying and firmly pulled her arm so that she would face him. He enveloped his arms around her, tucking her head underneath his chin.

Hana was surprised by the gesture, but welcomed the new source of warmth. She reluctantly circled her hands behind his back. It was so comfortable, like being home. There was no other way to describe it. Things felt right. She felt safe and protected, not that there were any dangers in the first place. It was enough to return the embrace.

She wondered if he would remember any of this the next day.

But it didn't matter if he didn't.

Because she would.

A/N: As usual, your thoughts are very much appreciated. Supposedly, Mori gets flirtatious or talkative when he's sleepy. But I've always thought it would be interesting to put him under the influence. Drunk people are either a) funny, or b) a handful. Sometimes both, from my experience haha, but thanks for reading.