It is with great sadness and happiness that I present to you the final installation of the main body of The Way Life Goes On:
DANCE WITH ME
Rin arrived home to find Piko making dinner, which was a pleasant surprise, but she didn't show it as she set her bag down on a table and went to join him in the kitchen.
She leaned up against the counter next to him and looked at what he was making, and Piko looked over before quickly staring back down at the food.
"I'm making dinner," he said.
Rin laughed quietly. "I can see that," she said. "Any reason in particular?"
Piko shook his head quickly. "I wanted you to be able to take a day off without having to order cheap food somewhere."
Rin wanted to help, but she knew better than to say it. Instead, she stayed in the kitchen to keep Piko company, since she figured it was the least she could do in return for him doing her a favor.
Unbeknownst to her, however, was Piko's quickly increasing nervousness. He had a plan, of course, and there was really no way it could turn out badly, but there was still the glaring fact that his plan revolved around proposing, and proposing was an inherently nervous task. To have Rin's unsuspecting presence watching his every move was really more pressuring than comforting.
He was almost done, though, and they were able to sit down and eat shortly. Dinner was perhaps Piko's favorite time of the day, simply because it carried on the memories of their very first meetings. Dinner was comfortable, and it was familiar. It was almost the embodiment of their relationship: simple, sincere, and honest. Yet Piko couldn't be honest today.
"The kids gave me a card today," Rin had chatted happily. "It was like a get-well-soon but more like we-hope-you're-okay, since I'm technically already well, I guess."
"Did they ask about your bandage?" Piko asked.
Rin touched the bandage on the side of her face absentmindedly. "You know, I feel like people are nicer automatically because I have this. Maybe it's like a subconscious response to injured people." She shrugged. "I'm not complaining. But no, they didn't really say anything about it. Just kinda stared."
"I know how that feels," Piko mused good-naturedly. Rin felt a little bad for a moment, but she brushed it away, knowing Piko didn't mind his appearance. "How long do you have to wear one, again?" he asked.
"Until the skin closes up, I think? But maybe longer, if it'll get more people to offer favors for me." She grinned. "But how was your day?"
Piko blanked for a moment. "Nothing interesting," he said. "I just worked." It wasn't to hide anything terrible, but it was a lie nonetheless, and the mere task made him nervous all over again. So rather than continue, he skirted around the topic when he could and stayed silent when he couldn't.
Piko caught Rin trying to read him a couple of times after that, having learned the gaze that accompanied her analysis. But in the same way, she caught him trying to avoid being read, having learned the immediate break of eye contact that followed. It was with a bit of guilt that she decided to cut Piko some slack and let it go for the time being. If anything, he was acting more indecisive than suspect, so she tried to put it out of her mind lest she worry herself over nothing.
Still, she desperately wanted to know why Piko seemed ill at ease, because while it wasn't anything new, it certainly wasn't a characteristic she had seen in him recently. She finally came to the conclusion that he was figuring out something for himself and it had nothing to do with her, and she gave him the benefit of the doubt.
However, when he suggested a movie after dinner, it only further surprised Rin. Neither of them necessarily liked movies—she liked to read, and he liked to be on his computer. If they ever did want to sit in front of the television for the sake of being together, they watched TV rather than a movie. But a movie was what Piko suggested, and that was what Rin agreed to.
They sat side by side, but it wasn't excessively date-like, much to Rin's relief. It was simply a matter of sitting shoulder to shoulder, without holding hands or leaning head on shoulder, and it was comfortable to Rin.
In all reality, Piko had wanted to watch the movie for three reasons. The first was that he wanted to be next to Rin. He also wanted to think. But the third was the trip-up: he didn't want to talk. Thus a movie was the invaluable distraction required to help him achieve this delicate balance.
To him, who spoke in feelings, silence was necessary and welcomed before such an important moment. However, to Rin, who spoke in thoughts, the silence was stifling, and only served to antagonize her further.
She was trying to ignore it. Really. She could have tried to pass it off at an attempt to be romantic, but Rin knew better than that, much to her own annoyance. While each was secretly touched by kind gestures of the other, those gestures were almost always simple and understated, not to mention those gestures generally involved something at least one of them actually enjoyed.
So despite her initial resolution to keep her business to herself, it quickly became obvious to Rin that Piko was nervous about something. It was unmistakable. She knew he was comfortable in silence, but that wasn't the whole story. Every now and then, whether consciously or subconsciously, Piko would become tense, and Rin realized he was thinking, quite actively, in much the same way she was, but whatever he was thinking about kept bothering him.
She was conflicted for a while, not wanting to involve herself in something Piko wanted to sort out on his own, but then again, was that what she was there for? It was a difficult thing to decide, but the more she realized Piko was bothered, the more she was bothered.
And so nearly two-thirds into the movie, Rin paused it and sat quietly for a moment.
"Is something wrong?" Piko asked, looking at Rin.
"That's what I was going to ask," Rin said, smiling at the irony of it despite her concern. She stared at the still screen and made up her mind to press the subject. "If you're worried about something, you could tell me, you know?"
She waited for Piko to admit whatever was troubling him then and there, but instead she felt his gaze drop as he sighed a little. "Nothing's wrong, actually."
Rin blinked. Even without seeing Piko's expression, she believed he was telling the truth. There was nothing hesitant about the statement, and even though it wasn't light and carefree, it certainly seemed genuine.
"Then what are you thinking about?" Rin asked, still not wanting to rest until she figured out the cause of Piko's state.
"You," he said simply, and Rin felt heat in her cheeks. She momentarily wished Piko didn't have the ability to say such things so matter-of-factly. But he continued, so Rin tried to pay attention and ignore her blush.
"People echo these phrases that they believe give them license to go out and do whatever they want with their life because they figure if they've only got one life, they ought to spend it on themselves, and they ought to obey every impulse so as not to miss out on anything if they happen to die."
Rin considered this. "So like, 'no regrets?' Those types of people?"
"Yeah," Piko said, leaning his head back a little. "The thing is, I've always thought I'd much rather die with a promise I've kept than live with a regret I wasted."
"What do you mean?" Rin asked, matching his increasingly serious tone.
Piko took a breath. "When my dad died, I promised my mom I'd take care of her. I probably missed out on a lot of things I could have done, and I couldn't always put what I wanted first. But even if I had died then, I would have been okay with it, even without experiencing what people think are the best things in life, because I was experiencing something better. To live life by the slogan of 'no regrets' would have led me into a lot of wasted feelings, and a lot of wasted time. Funny how that works, actually."
"Is that bothering you? Thinking about your mom?"
Piko shook his head. "Remember? I was thinking about you. I want to make a new promise."
Rin swallowed, looking over at Piko only to find him looking back at her.
"I don't care how old we are, or what people might think we should have done by now or how we should have taken more chances when we were younger. I'm okay with my choices, and the fact that I lived so much of my life alone, just because it gave me a chance to meet you," Piko said. They were turned completely toward each other now, everything else in the room forgotten. He smiled a little. "Rin, if I promise to spend my life on you, will you spend yours on me?"
Rin felt like the breath that escaped her carried every emotion she could possibly experience. A faint dizziness originated in her head as she continued to focus on breathing in and out, every small movement of her chest stirring up the inexpressible feeling in the pit of her stomach. She swallowed and nodded. He was asking her to marry him, and she understood perfectly.
She had seen it in idealized media before; the young man would propose to the pretty girl, who would then press her hands to her lips in shock and then cry "yes" and hug the guy as if she'd never get to do it again.
It wasn't like that for Rin. She had understood the question from the start—Piko had asked long before, and so had she—the few times they brought up such a future, Rin had understood that the question existed. Only, it hadn't been a request before. It had been a sincere question, a consideration, a "will we or will we not?" And now Piko was asking again, asking for an answer, and Rin had nodded.
Piko didn't need more than that. His smile was quiet and reserved, like him, but Rin could see so much happiness that it made her heart yearn to retain the image forever. She leaned forward and set her chin on his shoulder, closing her eyes as she felt Piko put his arms around her. It was pathetic, really, she mused silently. To be so vulnerable, and to be such a girl. But she trusted Piko, and so she wrapped her own arms around his lower back and took in the moment, not saying a word.
Rin breathed softly as secret tears formed under her closed eyelids. "When I was in the accident," she said quietly, "I was really scared. I thought I was going to lose something. Not my life. I thought I was going to lose my sacrifice. I thought I was going to lose my expression of real love."
"You don't have to make such a big sacrifice, just to prove you love someone."
"I don't have to die," she agreed, sitting back for a moment. "But like you said, to spend my life on you…that's it, isn't it? I would gladly promise such a thing."
Piko stared at her, touched by the same sentiments he expressed so often towards her. "Thank you," he said.
Rin smiled at his odd politeness before leaning forward to hug him tightly once again, feeling any fear of such contact melt away. She was safe. There was nothing stopping her anymore.
Rin was capable of love.
"Hey, Piko," she said after a moment. "I want to believe you were right all along…that people are selfish because they don't know what it's like to be selfless." She waited before she continued slowly. "But I've thought of something else."
"What's that?"
"People are still sad even when they know what it's like to be happy."
Piko tucked his chin against Rin's shoulder. His task complete, he was free to speak his feelings again. "Happiness is a weird thing," he said. "It often looks like it's there when it's not, and looks like it's not when it's there. But yes, in the end, it comes and goes, seemingly as it pleases."
"So the happiness I feel now won't last, and it might not even ever come back?" Rin asked softly.
Piko took in a deep breath as he let go of Rin and sat back to look at her, shrugging his shoulders a little. "I can't give you happiness, and as far as I know, you can't give yourself happiness. But I do know that if you find a way to love others, happiness has a way of finding you."
"So you still believe what you said is true?"
Piko nodded. "But it doesn't matter if I believe it. If it's true, it'll be true with or without my support, and if not, nothing I do can make it true."
"True," Rin remarked, before cracking a smile.
She might have said something else, but Piko looked like he was hesitating, wanting to say something but holding off. Her mind drifted for a moment, but she was brought back to the present when finally, he stood and offered his hand. "I don't know if you like this sort of thing…but would you mind…will you dance with me?" he asked.
Rin took his hand and stood as well. "Like, the kind of dance rich people do at balls?" she asked.
Piko smiled shyly. "Something like that."
Rin considered it, not making eye contact as she thought. "I have some music for that, I think." Heading to the old stereo that sat quietly at the opposite end of the room, Rin looked down the shelf before locating a CD and pressing it gently into the player. She returned to Piko, looking up at him from where she stood, and gave him a nervous smile as the gentle instrumental began to play.
She had changed into a short nightgown after dinner, a cardigan thrown over it and modest shorts under it. He was still dressed in his clean shirt and trousers. Her hair was tousled and she still wore a bandage along the side of her face, while Piko's mismatched eyes twinkled under his pale hair as always.
To each, the other was beautiful.
Rin closed her fingers around Piko's hand as he held her waist, and for the first few seconds, she couldn't bring herself to lift her eyes to his face. Her embarrassment broke down, however, and she finally met his gaze. Neither spoke, neither smiled; it almost seemed as if neither breathed. They simply danced—with each other, for each other.
After a couple of songs, Rin found herself struck with dazed bliss, and she rose up on her tiptoes to kiss Piko before dropping back down and burying her face in his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his neck. Their steps turned into sways, and Rin's eyes closed, relaxing as Piko put both arms around her waist.
It was strangely hypnotizing, pulling them in until they lost themselves in the moment, hardly awake even though the night was still young. The songs and movement blended together, and before Rin knew it, she was barely conscious of them moving away from the center of the room; whether she was walking or not she couldn't tell. She only knew that her tired body relaxed on the cushions of the couch, and pressed closely against her was Piko, his soft breathing as rhythmic as the music still playing.
She could have fallen asleep right there, but Piko brought her back to consciousness one last time. "Rin," he breathed, hardly louder than a whisper.
"Hm?" she didn't open her eyes, but forced her mind to concentrate on Piko's words as sleep threatened to pull her under.
"If I had twenty four hours left to live, I'd want to spend it like this," he said.
"Yeah." Rin smiled.
~The End~
I hope you've enjoyed the story as it stands, and I'd love if you could leave a review if you liked it. If you didn't...uhh thanks for reading anyway?
(Note: there is a bit more writing that takes place within this universe that I'm uploading to the end of this over the next couple of Sundays, but it isn't essential to the main storyline, so if you don't want to read more, feel free not to come back, but if you did want to keep reading, come back next Sunday :) )