Marry Me - Chaoji x Anita One-Shot
He was going to marry her. He'd decided, about an hour ago, leaning over a keg in the local slophouse. He, Chaoji Han, would marry mistress Anita. They had laughed at him when he announced it, but when it became clear that he was serious, or at least serious enough to buy a round of celebratory drinks, they'd cheered him on wildly.
It had started simply enough, his infatuation. He'd known her for so long, he wasn't sure when she had become this beautiful. He'd just turned around one day and there she was, smiling at him, applauding the size of the fish he had caught. She took his breath away. For a moment he had to just stand there, staring at her, unable to think as the blood rushed to his face. In a mock chivalric manner he had taken his catch, got down on one knee and presented it to her. She had laughed, accepted the gift, providing that he de scaled it at least. They'd cooked it together on a messy fire, picking fish from the bones and feeding it to each other as the sun went down, then hurried home laughing to wash off the grease.
She'd never looked so beautiful as she did then, running down twisty lanes, hair flying out behind her, always just ahead of him.
He remembered their summers most of all, their perfect idyllic country summers. They were the very image of what he'd always wanted for himself, for his family. Fishing barefoot in the creek, skirts tucked into underwear, trousers rolled up. Picnics in meadows. Sunsets. Perfect ends to endless days.
When her mother died that stopped somewhat. But it lived on. He still told the stories. Like the time she fell out of the big tree on the common and scraped her arms and legs up so badly she had to wear long sleeves for the rest of the summer. How he'd carried her home, scared that she was seriously injured. How she flung her arms around his neck and giggled at him, telling him that she was okay. When he carried her over the threshold of her house, she laughed again and said it was practice for his real wife. He still told the stories, to anyone who would listen. And so, when they had grown tired of listening one man had said "Well jeez kid, why don't you just marry her then." Chaoji replied in kind: "I will.".
So that was how he ended up wandering the streets to her house at three in the morning, his grandmother's wedding ring clutched firmly in one hand. It was how he ended up outside her window, trying to think of the words to say until he fell asleep, still fumbling for the right phrases to tell Anita just how much he loved her. The right words to make her his bride.
When he woke up she was standing over him, the sun pouring golden through her hair, warm as her smiles.
"We're going to Japan."
His heart skipped a beat, as it always did when she spoke to him. He couldn't quite focus on what she was saying, she was so close, so warm, so radiant. Anita, will you... Even when she moved away, he struggled to find the words to say to bring her back. Marry me? The ring cut into his palm.
"Well? Are you coming with me?"
She held out her hand. Come with me. He looked at it, imagined his ring on her finger. Marry me. He looked at his own, rough, callused, one bloodied, one clean and decided it wasn't the time. To propose to a woman like her, the timing had to be perfect. On the dirty stones outside her house would never do. Grinning, he pushed the ring into his pocket and stood, pulling her into a hug with his free arm as she started to tell him their plans for departure.
He would ask her to marry him later. There would always be time. Perfect, endless summer days for perfect moments, for perfect words.
Yes, I will.
A/N: Unbeta'd but put up to prove that I am not dead. I am however taking a hiatus through November because my internet sucks and I have final assessments to write. Unfortunately I cannot write fanfiction for them.
I will be back in December though, and anyone who follows me here or on my LJ might get a little surprise come my return.