Chapter 10

She woke up in the early hours of the morning, her body wrapped in a blanket and a source of heat under her face that rhythmically went up and down. Hana woke up to her neck sore, and her eyes felt like they were glued shut. She pried her eyes open to find the view of the fireplace that died out over the night. Hana felt the weight of something against head while her neck craned to the right, resting comfortably to what seemed to be a shoulder.

It couldn't have been past 8 in the morning, she guessed. But Hana wasn't the kind of person to fall asleep after she had woken. She stayed in the position just for a few more minutes.

She felt safe, wrapped up in a blanket that covered them both, his arm around her shoulder as she laid against his own shoulder. He was fast asleep as far as she could tell.

This was her escape. A few more minutes of bliss. And then she would let go, before he could feel how fast her heart began to pound against her rib cage. She was felt guilty for having him stay. He was in no position to comfort her, it was never his obligation to do so. She kept him up throughout the night and Hana knew that he must have been exhausted making sure she was alright.

She carefully pried his arm off of her, laying him down against the floor with a cushion to support his head. She draped another blanket over his body, layering up so he wouldn't catch a cold. She restarted the fire before taking one last look at him. Hana reached out to touch his spiky hair, it was softer than she imagined. He would wake up to a bed head, though it seemed like his hair was eternally bedhead-like regardless.

Hana was shivering without the warmth of Takashi and decided to take a hot shower. It was much needed. She paused before the mirror to take a look at herself. Her hair was a mess, the bun falling apart. The dark circles under her eyes were deeper than she thought, while her eyes were swollen and red. She took out the contacts in her eyes. She still looked like a complete train wreck. Her face had thinned over the past few months, from stress and the lack of sleep.

When Hana cleaned herself up, her hair was in a clean ponytail and her face looked like she hadn't gone through a zombie apocalypse at the very least. She changed out of her old clothes. Hana needed a fresh start.

She walked downstairs to find Mori rubbing his eyes. He must have just woken up. He stretched his neck, probably sore from sleeping in an unfamiliar position. Hana caught him mid-yawn, before he noticed her watching him.

He immediately closed his mouth, embarrassed that she saw him all bleary-eyed and tired. She smiled and told him to take a warm shower to loosen the neck muscles. She tilted her head slightly, letting her ponytail swerve to the side of the stairs. He silently followed her instructions.

He wondered how she was faring. Was she okay? She smiled at him as she usually did, but Mori couldn't see her eyes from afar. She never lied through her eyes. He grabbed what was meant to be his gym bag, but after his escapade through the past 24 hours, it was a well-needed change of clothing.

When he got to the top floor with various bathrooms, he was led to the one with the light on. An extra toothbrush was placed for him neatly beside a tube of toothpaste. Her makeup bag was open, along with her hairbrush aside and various skincare products placed on the counter. Mori curiously looked at each bottle before he washed up. A face towel was placed beside the sink, along with a clean towel that hung over the shower door. It was the small details that made him realize that she thought of him.

He walked down to the kitchen with his hair still damp after being towel dried. Hana was in the midst of cutting up apples. Two bowls were prepared with rice and heated leftovers from the night prior. The kettle was above the stove, slowly bringing the water to the boil.

Mori noticed a change of clothes. A knitted cardigan over a grey tank top with black knitted leggings. Her feet were bare. She never seemed to like wearing socks. He slowly approached her at the kitchen bar, and sat across from her.

"Morning," Hana politely greeted, concentrating on cutting the apples. Mori noticed the small details in her face. Her dark circles were no longer there. Her complexion perfect. Her eyes were lined thinly beneath the rectangular framed glasses she wore. Maybe that's what makeup does.
"Mm," he reciprocated. He was content watching her doing the most menial tasks.

"Do you mind making tea? There's a can of loose leaves in the cabinet behind me," she put him to work assuming that he must've felt awkward just watching her. The truth was that he wasn't. But Mori followed her orders regardless.

They ate breakfast in silence.

Hana put the last piece of grilled mackerel in his bowl. "You like the way Ojii-san cooks it," she offered in explanation. It wasn't only him who had been watching her closely. Her voice cracked in the middle of the sentence, gritting out the word grandfather.

Mori nodded and accepted her kind gesture. He had no words of comfort to give, and Hana was aware of that. She didn't need words of condolence. She was stronger than that.

Takashi silently began cleaning up the table, taking the dishes over to the sink. But Hana stopped him just in time.

"It's my turn," Hana insisted. Mori cleaned up the night before. "I'll clean up." Her eyes refused him of any argument. He could only nod and watch her instead. She was meticulous in everything she did. When Hana realized that Takashi wasn't about to leave her alone, she smiled.

"Can you do me a favour?"

He nodded. No questions asked. Hana almost wished that he would at least ask what the favour was, or why. But he looked at her with such

"Can you uh, check my emails? Just… the ones from NYU. Let me know if uh, I passed my classes," she sheepishly smiled. Mori walked over to the counter where her phone was placed.

"Passcode is 0505," Hana answered before he asked.
"Why?" he pondered out loud. It was the first thing he had said in a while and his deep voice often caught her off guard.
"It's uh," she stuttered. "It's a birthday."

Takashi smiled at the screen. May 5th was his birthday. But Hana wouldn't have known that. It's a nice coincidence.

Mori scrolled through her inbox. Each unopened email was a grade from her courses. Hana was on top of every email, even the one that had been sent 1 hour ago, all but the ones that had anything to do with a grade.

Each grade landed in the B range, with percentages of high seventies to low eighties. It was pretty decent considering she was an international student and in a competitive program. Hana finished with the dishes, putting each of them away before sitting beside him on the bar stool. She was anxious, almost afraid of the results.

"You passed," Takashi answered.

Hana let out a long exhale while her eyes were closed. "I was so afraid."
"Why?"
"I can't afford to drop out. Not now, not ever. This is my way out now. There's no going back anymore."

He looked at her perplexed. Way out of what?

"I just can't... stay," Hana wasn't sure what to call it. The upper class with luxury. "It's suffocating. I don't belong in it anyway," she murmured. No birthright. No shares. She wasn't meant to be rich. She was a fraud, and always had been. "I've been so sheltered. I'm still naïve. How else can I have a way out without learning? Without looking at the world with new perspectives? I cannot. I will not."

Mori watched the spark in her eyes flicker with determination. The same kind that he saw on the mat when she refused to lose. The kind that he would cower to and surrender when given a choice. He admired that.

"Is it not easier to stay?" Any logical person would understand that being rich would make life easier, especially if one was accustomed to the lifestyle. Realistically, it was better that she stayed rich without needing to worry about finding a job, or sustaining herself without the help of her family.

"My heart," Hana mumbled. "It feels too heavy. If I have to carry this burden for the rest of my life, knowing that I'm not who I am, staying in this bubble forever… Takashi, I'm too selfish. I cannot. I cannot bear to think of the guilt I will harbour for a lifetime."

She looked down to the counter. She was ashamed of taking the selfish route. Hana couldn't help it. She wanted things that she could not have, she always craved for more. More of her own decisions, more independence, more exploring, more of learning to be herself.

Was that so wrong?

Hana stopped dawdling, realizing that she already put too much of a burden on Mori. He always listened to her. He never once complained. He never once seemed like he was bothered. Hana finished up her beverage quickly and walked to the sink to wash the mug.

Mori watched as she avoided him, looking guilty for pestering him again. He was never bothered. But for some reason, he couldn't utter out those words.

I'm not bothered.
I'm honoured that you trust me.
Please don't leave.

"Come on," Hana smiled. Her eyes did not. "Let me drive you home."

The drive back to the city was silent for the most part. Until Mori asked a question that was itching at the back of his mind.

"Whose birthday is it?"
"Hm?" Hana's eyes were affixed on the road.
"The passcode."

Hana chuckled. Of all the questions he was the most interested in…

"It's Ojii-san's," she quietly answered.
"Oh," he nodded. Of course.

Mori watched as her smile turned into a thin line. Things wouldn't be the same with the lingering thought in the back of her mind.

"He loves you very much," Takashi broke the ice.
"I know," she nodded. "I… just… feel wrong? Maybe, guilty? It's very confusing." Hana sighed.

Mori watched as she leaned back into her seat while still taking control of the wheel. She fell into a spiral of thoughts. He pulled her back.

"I share the same birthday as him," he tried.
"Oh," Hana wasn't aware of that. Her voice perked up. "That's cool. I'll keep that in mind the next time."

Takashi was out of topics to talk about. He wished he was more of a conversationalist. Just with her. Nobody else.

"You know what else you share?" A playful grin crept up her lips. Takashi found himself smiling at her. It was contagious. "You two share a name."

Takashi Sawada. The drunk pact that the grandfathers made came into full effect, naming their grandchildren after each other. The grandfather missed the train with Hiro, as the name was chosen by his son. But Hana was a different story. When she was born, the elder insisted on the name despite the fact that Hanada wasn't exactly a name for a girl. Hanada Morinozuka was rather disappointed. But Takashi Sawada made it work.

"Does that mean…" Mori began piecing the puzzle together.
"My first name is actually Marielle, chosen by my mother," she revealed. "My full name is Marielle Hana Sawada. Marielle Sawada is what I use overseas. I guess Hana just stuck since we spoke Japanese, and Marielle doesn't quite flow with the language."

Takashi nodded in understanding.

"I wonder what other dumb shit the drunkards thought of," Hana grumbled, shaking her head. Takashi let out a deep chuckle.

Hana let the sound ring throughout the car. It made her tingle inside, having him laugh. He never laughed in front of her. He only smiled. Maybe sheepishly grinned from time to time. But this was a first. It put a smile on her face, one that didn't have to be forced. The smile stayed the rest of the journey back.

The two were bound together by fate. Their names intertwined. Takashi found that very comforting, like he would always have a piece of her in some way. When they reached the Morinozuka residence, he was reluctant to step out of the car. His legs didn't will him to do so.

"Thanks," he quietly said. I appreciate the ride, he wanted to say. But his throat always seemed to close. Mori grabbed his bag from the backseat and had a hand on the door handle before Hana firmly gripped his arm. He still only had a windbreaker on, and it was much too cold for him to be walking like that all the time.

"You should invest in a jacket," Hana said, concern lingering in her voice.

Mori shrugged. He was fine. He jogged to places most of the time, keeping the circulation of blood flowing through his veins to warm himself up.

"And uhm," she tried to piece the words in her head. "Thank you. You didn't have to come all the way up to the villa and… stay."

It's fine. He wanted to say. As long as you're okay. He only wished that she could read minds. But Hana was only human. She could only take his silence as a means of accepting her gratitude in some way. The girl reached over to the backseat. It was a thick knitted scarf, grey in colour and soft to touch.

She carefully wrapped it over his neck, making sure he wasn't entirely exposed to the cruel winter winds. Hana leaned over to his body, stretching from the driver's seat. It was almost a hug. He got a whiff of her perfume, Mori almost wished that she would linger. But his hands were tied and he was frozen in place.

"You need it more than I do," she explained. Hana reached out to his hand, still warm to touch. She smiled. "Take care, okay?" She squeezed his hand.

Mori could only nod, still fazed by the feeling of her cold fingers. He wanted to enclose her hand in his, but she let go before his fingers got the chance to react. He was too slow. Always too slow.

"Happy birthday," he was a day early, but he said it before he stepped out into the coldness. He then waved so he could send her off.

And then she drove away, orbiting farther and farther.

And all he had was her scarf that smelled like her.

Mori continued his weekly visits to Sawada-san, as if nothing had ever happened. It was the middle of February as they walked through the park now filled with snow. The dog paid no mind to the damp ground, walking along happily in the cold. They passed the usual convenience store where Sawada-san bought his newspapers.

Sawada-san noticed his granddaughter on the cover of a fashion magazine, hair mussed up with her hand with her dark red lips parted as she posed with a long blue gown.

"That's my granddaughter," he pointed out to the store owner. Sawada-san was a regular at the store for many years, and the two had grown to be quite friendly.
"You say that every time, old man," the owner grumbled. "Just because you two share the same family name doesn't mean you two are related. I mean, I knew two Sawadas growing up!"

The elder narrowed his eyes. "I say it every time because it's true."
"Yeah yeah, so are you going to buy it or not?" the store owner pressed. "I mean, it's okay to look, she's beautiful. But don't go around getting silly idea—"
"Of course she's beautiful, she's my granddaughter! We can't go through this every time she's on a cover," the elder threw his hands up, obviously exasperated. Sawada-san promptly paid for the papers and grumbled as Mori followed him out of the store, taking hold of Kaina's leash.

"God damn it," the grandfather shoved the magazine into Mori's chest, to which he caught just in time with his free hand. "Gonna take her to that very shop to prove to that punk that I'm her grandfather."

Mori chuckled to himself. He was careful to not make any noise so that the elder wouldn't call him out for it. They reached the home, warming themselves up from the cold. Takashi took care of the dog, taking it off its leash.

He found himself sitting in the living room, flipping through the magazine that was shoved into his chest. She was pretty. She always had been. He found his heart beating faster while he stared at her looking directly at him with her hazel eyes. Mori wanted to kick himself for being so silly. She wasn't even physically there.

"She's all grown up," the grandfather said as he watched the young man stare longingly at the magazine. The elder poured tea. It was their usual routine. One that the grandfather reluctantly grown to like, the young man proved himself to be surprisingly useful.

"She'll come back," Hana's grandfather assured himself. "Hana will come back, won't she?"

Mori looked up from the pages. "Of course," he answered.

"You two still do that thing with the phones?" the elder grumbled.
The young man smirked. "Yes."
"How is she?"
"Busy," Mori answered. "Midterm season."

The elder nodded. "She hasn't called since."
Mori nodded. "She still worries about you," he assured.
"Well, I worry about her," the grandfather murmured. "She's tougher than she looks but… she took a hard hit."

"She's fine." Or at least, she was thought to be fine. Mori hadn't heard back from her in quite some time.

The elder nodded before finishing off his tea. Mori waited patiently and then took his leave at an appropriate time. He got up and bowed, leaving to go towards the door. The grandfather stopped him.

"Take the magazine," Sawada-san threw it at the man who was across the room. "You don't think I see you looking at her the way you do?" He raised an eyebrow.

Mori froze, clutching the paper in his hands. Like a deer caught in the headlights, his only reaction was to stay in the same position before the elder chuckled. He took that as a sign to relax.

"That scarf is hers," he pointed at the grey wool over his neck. "Isn't it?"

Takashi cleared his throat before answering, though he was cut off.

"Get outta here, you little rascal. I'll see you next week," Sawada-san waved him off with an amused grin.

Sorry I haven't been texting back.

Hana sat in her apartment in New York during her spring break, phone in her hand as she stayed up into the wee hours after midnight. Midterm season had finally ended after a gruelling month. She quickly deleted the text that she hadn't sent.

Sawada-san bought newspaper today and argued with the storeowner.

Kaina went for her check-up. She is healthy.

Sawada-san's neck has been sore lately. Treated him with hot/cold patches.

Had dinner with Sawada-san. He craved apples today.

Hana scrolled through the messages that Mori diligently sent over the past few months. Like clockwork, he never missed a week. It was already Sunday morning, or for Japan, it was Sunday afternoon. Hana, for some reason, couldn't find the will to text him back.

Texting didn't seem right.

The polite thing was to text him back, of course. Hana was not raised without manners. She was grateful for his updates. She read the texts just as diligently as Takashi sent them, reading them over and over during those lonely nights she stayed up while studying.

Her finger grazed over the keys.

Thanks.

She deleted the letters. That wasn't enough to express her gratitude. It wasn't sincere. Nothing seemed sincere over text. Hana groaned. She twisted against her couch, clutching a cushion as she battled with herself on what to say.

Mori was writing an essay. Or at least, he was trying to write an essay. Books were strewn all over his desk, loose papers with all of his notes were scattered all around. The wind howled against his window frame, it was nearly spring but the traces of winter just refused to disappear.

Takashi leaned against his chair, rubbing his temples. He looked towards the door, with his jacket and grey scarf that hung on the hooks. The scarf. It was her scarf. But it kept him warm throughout the cold months. Mori wished that it stayed cold, just so he could carry it around without looking strange or out of place.

His thoughts glazed over to her. He wondered how she was doing. It was like radio silence between him and her. Takashi diligently sent signals over, and he waited patiently for a response. He was never frustrated. Mori had a strong sense of faith in her. She would return. She always did, without fail.

He jumped back to reality when his phone vibrated against the table. Odd. No one called him. Unless it was Honey, but even so, he hadn't spoken to his cousin in a while.

Hana Sawada is calling, he read off the phone. Mori blinked. Was this real? Takashi dropped his phone accidentally and let it ring for so long that he unintentionally let it go to voicemail.

Takashi punched the air, wishing that he hadn't just missed the opportunity. He let himself calm down before picking up the phone that fell to the ground from his clumsiness.

It was probably an accident. He checked the time. 1:46 PM. It was much too late for Hana to be up anyway. Mori picked up his phone and there it was: Voicemail (1).

He cautiously unlocked the screen of his phone and immediately listened to the voicemail.

Hey.

It was her. It was her voice. His heart skipped a beat. She sounded tired. There was a pause.

Uh. So, I guess you're busy – which is fine. Um. I just wanted to – wow, my Japanese must sound strange now.

Hana tried to cover up her awkwardness by laughing. Mori smiled to himself. Her Japanese was still perfect even while she lived in America.

Anyway. I just… I wanted to thank you. And I'm also sorry for being terrible at replying to your texts. I read them. All the time, actually. I uh, I read them a lot when… I need—

The girl sighed.

Never mind. I hope you're doing well, really. Let me know what you're up to, yeah? I'm um. I'm going to go. Good night. I mean, wait – good morning. No. Afternoon. Yes, that. Sorry.

She took a deep breath. He could practically hear her embarrassment through the other line. Takashi's smile turned into a grin.

Take care, Takashi.

The long beep signalled the end of the message. It was much too short. But it was just a voicemail after all.

Mori instantly hit replay.

Hey.

His heart skipped again.

Sawada-san got two things in the mail in late April.

A birthday card from his granddaughter, along with a package of dog treats for Kaina.

Ojii-san,
I won't be here this year. But have a shot of sake for me.
With all my love,
Your granddaughter, Hana

And another letter addressed to Takashi. Which if you thought about it, was technically two birthday cards addressed to him. In his defense, he wasn't sure which one to open and he easily glazed over the name Morinozuka.

He was an elder, for god sake. He could do whatever the hell he wanted. He ripped open the box without hesitance.

Takashi,

Thank you for being so kind. I will never be able to express my gratitude to you for all that you've done. Have a splendid birthday.

Hana

The package had a book in English so the elder couldn't read any of it.

Sawada-san groaned. He didn't get a book. But then again, he had no patience for novels. The elder grumbled at the dog treats that Kaina began sniffing. It took him just about a minute to get over it before he put his birthday card on the fridge. It was the first time she had contacted him since she knew. The grandfather nodded to himself. She was coming back. Slowly, but surely.

Takashi came over shortly with a bag of dog kibble in his arms, just the regular errands that he did every few weeks. He settled himself down at the usual living room table while Sawada-san made tea.

He noticed a card placed on top of a book. It was a birthday card. Mori curiously opened it, wondering who it was addressed to.

It was for him. From her.

It instantly put a smile on his lips. His eyes widened at the book choice. It was in English, but that didn't matter. Years of Ouran taught him enough English to get by if he really needed to. Sawada-san watched the young man's expression change from being complacent to a sheer moment of joy. The elder held the tray of tea while watching him from the kitchen door.

"Don't think I can't see that dumb grin on your face, kid," the grandfather warned. Mori instantly pursed his lips in embarrassment. Maybe fear. Sawada-san hoped that it was fear. It wouldn't be fun without it.

He poured the tea silently, eyeing Takashi while doing so.

"Do you do it for her?" Sawada-san got straight to the point.
"Hm?" Mori looked up from the table with his present.
"Your visits. You do it for her," the elder pointed out.

Takashi wanted to shake his head. He didn't just visit Sawada-san for Hana. Or did he? He wasn't sure. At first, he just wanted a distraction. And then a weekly distraction became a habit. And then it just became… a thing. No thought required. No thought given.

"It's fine," the grandfather shrugged. "You're my only connection to her. It's mutually beneficial."

Takashi nodded.

"So… you in love with my granddaughter, or what?"

Mori choked on his tea, coughing for a good minute thereafter.

The elder cackled, nearly toppling over onto the tatami mat.

"Just messin' with ya," the grandfather smirked.

A/N: Somewhat of a filler chapter, so I apologise. I flew out of the country on a last-minute sort of scenario, so my access to wifi is limited and I haven't gotten time to write. It terrifies me that it is already August and I promised myself I would finish this story before school begins again. I hope this chapter suffices. As always, thanks for reading. Your thoughts are always appreciated.