Despite Kotoko warning all of her friends not to bring gifts, most of them had not arrived empty-handed. She expressed her appreciation while scolding them for their extravagance. The show-stopper, however, did not come from the younger generation. Her father presented her with an elaborate kimono in a large designer box. "It's for your seijin-shiki in January," he explained while wiping at the corner of his eye. "I got the Missus to pick it out for you, with me being a single father and all."
"Otosan!" she exclaimed in awe. "It's gorgeous!" Her female friends all oohed and aahed over it. Mrs. Irie explained that her gift was going to be matching shoes and the flower for her hair.
"But Obasama!" Kotoko protested. "You already gave me this dress!" The form-fitting jersey with swinging skirt had previously prompted several compliments from the girls and a couple of whistles from the boys.
Mrs. Irie waved that away. "Just a trifle! I want you to look special when you and Onii-chan go to the town center together, just like husband and wife."
You could have heard a pin drop after her last pronouncement. Mr. Irie was frantically waving his hands "No!" at her while Yuuki spurted juice out his nose. Naoki placed a hand over his eyes and bowed his head. Satomi and Jinko worriedly looked from him to Watanabe, who calmly handed Kotoko an envelope. "Happy birthday," he said. "And don't tell me that I shouldn't have."
With the attention back on Kotoko as she slowly opened the envelope, conversation again started up. "Oh!" she exclaimed with a happy smile. "An iTunes card! Well, I guess I won't get too mad at you. My favorite band just released a new album last week."
"That's all well and good," Mrs. Irie interposed, "but Onii-chan, didn't you bring something for Kotoko?"
"I changed my work schedule and showed up, Ma. Isn't that enough?"
"Very funny. It's her birthday!" she scolded him. "Kotoko-chan always remembers you on your birthday and Christmas and Valentine's Day—"
"Not always," he muttered.
"—and the least you can do is reciprocate."
"All right." Naoki turned to Kotoko. "I'll give you a gift later—in private." He glared at his mother.
"Uh, sure, okay," Kotoko answered hesitantly. "So!" She turned to the rest of the crowd. "Anyone want more cake?"
Satomi and Jinko—and, of course, Ryo and Junpei—were among the last of the party-goers to leave. Mr. Irie and Mr. Aihara had taken shelter in the back room an hour earlier, and Naoki was talking quietly with Yuuki about school. After shooting Watanabe a glare, Mrs. Irie finally retired to the kitchen, and they could hear a clatter of dishes all the way to the front door.
Watanabe gave Kotoko a half grin. "It looks like I've worn out my welcome."
"Don't pay too much attention to her," Kotoko pleaded, "but I suppose I should go back and help her soon."
He smiled. "Even being the birthday girl, you still feel that way. You are a very nice person, 'Kotoko-chan'." He gave her name the particular inflection that Mrs. Irie always did.
She ducked her head and giggled. "Thank you."
Glancing behind her with care, Watanabe asked, "Do you think they will think anything is amiss if you bid me goodbye outside?"
"I don't see why." She opened the door and led the way out. They walked through the gate and strolled a few meters down the street, hidden from prying eyes by the brick fence. "It's a beautiful night, isn't it?" she commented, looking at the stars above them.
"Not as beautiful as the girl beside me," he said, clasping her hand.
"Oh!" Kotoko made a sound between a laugh and a gasp. "I know I'm not—"
He placed a hand over her mouth. "You are to me, so no arguments." She nodded once. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course you can," she said, her forehead furrowing slightly.
"May I...kiss you?" he whispered.
Kotoko blinked. "You're asking? Since we've moved into dating each other, I thought that came with the territory."
He smiled slowly. "I know your feelings are still uncertain. I didn't want to take advantage." She began to shake her head but stilled when he placed his hands on her shoulders. He leaned down and softly caressed her lips with his for several seconds. He was alarmed to find that there were tears in her eyes when he raised his head. "I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't—"
Now it was her turn to place a hand over his mouth. "Don't apologize. It's just that that was the most...honest kiss that I've ever had." She laughed. "Honest, just like your name."
Greatly moved, he leaned down and kissed away the moisture that had fallen from her eyes. "I'll always be honest with you, Kotoko," he promised.
They only had a few more moments to enjoy their privacy, as Mrs. Irie opened the front door and called for her. "Kotoko-chan! It's getting too chilly! Come inside now!"
The two laughed together. "She's grasping at straws, using the temperature, isn't she?" Watanabe said before touching her mouth once more. "Go in, or she'll work herself into an aneurysm."
"All right!" She laid a hand briefly on his cheek before scurrying to the gate. "Here I am, Obasama!" she called.
"I can't have you catching your death of cold on your birthday," Mrs. Irie scolded. She held the back of her hand to the girl's forehead. "See, you're already feverish!"
"Not at all!" Kotoko argued. "I feel great. Do you need help with the dishes?"
"No, no, they're all under control. After all, it is your day today. Yuuki-kun, come with me," she ordered as she retreated once more.
Kotoko let out a relieved breath, grateful for the opportunity to sort out her feelings about what had just happened outside. After all, it was only the second time that she had been kissed, and she still wondered why the first time had even happened! And speak of the devil...
Naoki came down the stairs and approached her. "Watanabe left unscathed?"
"Mm-hm," she answered as she mechanically moved items in the living room back to their usual, pre-party location. "Oh!" She stood upright suddenly. "You said something about a gift. You know it's not necessary. There's no need to spend your money on me."
"It's not money," he assured her. "It's time—that is, if you want it."
"Time?" she asked, confused.
He looked away. "I know that Watanabe is helping you with classes, but, being pre-law, it's a given that his course schedule is pretty full. I just wanted to let you know that you can ask me if he's not able to assist you."
"Wow," she said, eyes wide, "you're actually serious. Volunteering to help me again without blackmail or motherly nagging?"
He laughed shortly. "Strange behavior for me, I know." He looked at her steadily. "Again, I apologize for the way I treated you in the past. Please let me try to make up for my...bad behavior."
"Well, I suppose I can keep you in mind…" she began.
"If it will help convince you, I have to admit—with no arrogance whatsoever—that although Watanabe and I are about equal in written English, I am the superior in spoken. So if you need help with your pronunciation, I'm your man."
After a hitch in her breath at those last three words, she managed a grin for him. "You've heard me in Advanced English. I'm barely understandable."
"So you'll accept?" He seemed strangely eager.
"Sure," she laughed, "but where would we do it? Remember all those interruptions from Obasama when you taught me before."
He made a face. "And the library won't do because we'll need to be talking. We should probably meet where conversation is expected, such as a restaurant."
"Donny's?" she asked, trying to make it as convenient as possible for him.
He hesitated then shook his head. "No. There would be...complications." Matsumoto was still employed there, and although they had an uneasy truce, he feared bringing Kotoko into her range for an extended period of time.
"Okay! I'll call you later and we can decide then."
"Right. Well, I've got to go." He paused and placed a palm on one of her cheeks. "Happy birthday, Kotoko."
She closed the door behind him and unconsciously laid her own hand on her cheek. It did feel warm, she noted to herself.
Mrs. Irie flattened herself against the wall around the corner leading to the kitchen. Yes! She did a silent fist pump. They will finally spend some time together—alone!