Lyricism, Pt 3
Lyricism, n: Music that expresses direct personal emotion, especially in the manner of a song.
Koushiro was programming at his bedroom desk when a cell phone alarm sounded. The screen announced that it was time for Eimi's evening medication. Sighing, he dismissed the alarm, then stretched his back.
It was day three of the week-long event for high schoolers interested in his university's CS department. Basically, the days passed as they did before he began helping Eimi, minus the teaching. He programmed at his apartment and on campus, enjoyed stimulating conversations with his colleagues, and chatted with any students who approached. Returning to his element, an academic bubble that challenged his mind and secluded him from the outside world, was a pleasure and a relief.
But when he retired to home in the early evening, the apartment seemed cavernous, tomb quiet.
Koushiro drummed his fingers against the desk. His instinct was to distract himself from unpleasant sensations with work, but… Well, he couldn't pretend anymore. He knew exactly why he was uncomfortable, and exactly how to fix it. Failure to address the issue was illogical, but heeding his intellect was proving disconcertingly difficult.
He couldn't say when it happened, nor how. All Koushiro knew what that a thought- desire, dream?- had coalesced: If he could have his work during the day, and Eimi the rest of the time…
Koushiro slapped a palm to his face. A groan dribbled through his fingers. Although he tried to ignore it, there was no denying that he missed Eimi. He compared the experience to missing Taichi, Jyou, Yamato, Mimi, and even his parents, but found that there was a difference he couldn't put into words.
Koushiro stared at his phone, as if answers would materialize on the screen. He had hoped that identifying his desires would clear up his confusion, but he was struggling more than ever. How could he connect his life to Eimi's? She lived nearby, and her lifestyle seemed compatible with his, since they both preferred pursuing their interests at home. But he was at a loss to imagine what he could offer her, and he was no closer to understanding if his desire to be near her meant that he was in love with her.
He scrolled through his contacts, scowling at each image. As a researcher, he knew when it was time to request an outside opinion. But he couldn't take these questions to his friends, who were all her friends, too. And, truth be told, he wasn't equipped for questions and explanations. He needed comfort and reassurance…
Koushiro blinked, then leaped to the natural source of both of those things. Soon, Kae's voice reached him through the phone. "Koushiro!" she cried, and his eyes slid shut. Like any doted-on child, he knew that he was safe.
"Hi, Mom. How are you?" They traded news, and when the first lull appeared, Koushiro tried to edge into his problem. Naturally, he had no idea what to say, and a long pause formed.
"Is there something on your mind?" Kae asked at last. Koushiro sighed.
"I'm sorry. Do I only call when I need advice?"
"Of course not." The slight bite to her voice warned Koushiro that his mother wasn't happy about his self-deprecation. "But I can tell when you're chewing on something. Can I help?"
Baffled, Koushiro stared at his monitor without seeing any of the data. He wasn't aware of broadcasting any signs of confusion. How had his mother read him so well, especially over the phone? "If anyone can," he sighed, both exhausted and amazed, "I'm sure it's you."
After another pause, she gently prodded, "Well, dear?"
"I… don't know how to begin," Koushiro admitted. "I suppose I've been wondering… How can I tell if I'm giving of myself?"
"Interpersonally, you mean?" Kae asked.
"Yes. When I was struggling to care for Eimi-san, Sora-san gave me a book called Mindfulness in Relationships. I read it, but… I'm still confused. I understand, for example, that helping Eimi-san cook and care for her dog when she can't is helpful to her. But eventually, she'll recover, and she'll no longer need that help."
He listened to his mother's long hmm, unsure what to make of her delay. "Are you saying that you want to continue giving to Eimi-chan?"
Koushiro went simultaneously hot and cold. He had tried to present his situation with Eimi as an example, but somehow, his mother had read his true motive. He wanted to hedge, or even lie, but… He couldn't. Not to Kae. "Yes," he mumbled. "I… Honestly, I'm not sure how I feel about her. Or, rather, I am, but then-" He swallowed a groan, and then a curse.
"It's okay to feel confused, Koushiro. Relationships and feelings can be challenging."
"Mom… What should I do?"
Kae made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a muted giggle. "I think you should examine the evidence, like you usually do. You've been looking after Eimi-chan for a while now, right? Has she mentioned anything she likes about you or expressed gratitude for something that wasn't a favor?"
Her words triggered a waterfall of memories, and Koushiro couldn't hear his awkward laugh over their roar. "Um… She's said that I'm objective and rational, but kind. And hardworking. Patient. Intelligent. Helpful. And, um, apparently she thinks I'm funny?" He could accept some of those superlatives, but others seemed bombastic. And there was no way he could bring up their wine-soaked discussion beneath the sunset.
The memory was a touch hazy, likely thanks to the alcohol, but Eimi had said that his calm, logical nature soothed her. Because his emotions were comparatively quiet, she could better hear her own feelings, a rarity in a loud world. He had either been too drunk or too overwhelmed to notice then, but now Koushiro heard what she had really said: When I'm with you, I can be myself.
His monitor's display was a glowing blur. Koushiro couldn't imagine being able to provide someone with a comfort so powerful… But he didn't have to. It was a reality, one that he had somehow managed to overlook, or perhaps to push away in a panic.
Helpful as ever, his brain worked, retrieving and connecting memories. He saw Eimi beside him on the day she found him after the breakup, drunk, starving, and living in his own filth. "And… When I told her that I feared I didn't actually care about my loved ones… S-she told me that I cared all too much."
"Darling." Kae's voice was quiet, with a hushed quality Koushiro didn't understand. "I wouldn't stress over how or what to give Eimi-chan. All you have to do is be with her."
Koushiro's first attempt at speaking was a miserable failure. He cleared the blockage from his throat, administrated a few mental kicks to his stalling brain, and croaked, "What?"
"Koushiro... If she speaks so highly of you, then all you have to do is give her time and attention. Don't overthink it, okay?"
Don't overthink it. How many times had friends, especially Taichi, thrown that advice at him? Koushiro never understood it. How was he supposed to navigate the world without thinking? It was like asking him to take a walk without his legs.
But now, the meaning seemed almost within his grasp. "Mom... Are you suggesting that I'm agonizing over something that's actually simple?"
A soft, breathy laugh tumbled through the speaker. "Exactly. You said that you're not sure how you feel about Eimi-chan, but you want to give of yourself to her. Just focus on that. You don't need to formalize your emotions. They're fluid, you know? And the bond between two people is constantly evolving and changing. For now, trust what you know. If what you've told me about Eimi-chan is true, then everything will be fine."
Koushiro lowered the phone and sniffled, then wiped his stinging eyes. A wry smile twisted his face. Emotions are fluid, indeed.
When he was ready, he lifted the phone and asked, "Is this normal? This, this... uncertainty. This fear."
"Hmm..." Koushiro pictured his mother glancing to the side and tapping her chin, which she often did when thinking. Somehow, he knew that she was grinning. "Eimi-chan's newest song is all about that, isn't it?"
There is fear in love...
"Takaishi-kun wrote that," Koushiro said, pushing away the idea that Eimi was talking about him.
"And Eimi-chan sang it," Kae agreed, her calm a flood wall against Koushiro's panic. "And it's a hit, right? That means it's resonating with people. It's not a new idea, Koushiro. Deep connections... A lot of people think they're what we live for. And that's why forming and losing one can be so painful. So... Yes. There is fear in love."
This time, the pain in his sockets crystallized into tears. Koushiro rubbed his eyes, feeling heavy and miserable and lost. Somehow, knowing that his fear was common didn't help as much as he had hoped.
If I lose Eimi-san the way I lost Mimi-san... I don't think I could take it. But if I deny what I want... If I push Eimi-san away... That isn't a safe option, either.
"Son?" Kae asked.
Koushiro blinked, startled out of his thoughts. "Huh?"
"Maybe I shouldn't ask... I'm sorry if this is too personal. I just... The way you talk about Eimi-chan, I can't help thinking... Are you sure there's anything to fear?"
A blank, fuzzy quality overwhelmed Koushiro. He felt remarkably daft, or perhaps concussed, as if he had taken a blow to the head. "M-mom?" he stuttered, searching for bearings.
"I'm serious. If she really thinks so highly of you, and if you truly want to give her whatever you can... What is there to fear?"
The urge to deflect rose and reared, but found no target. Kae's words had already absorbed, blasting through the misty, fuzzy veil around his brain. All he could do was hold the suggestion in his mind and feel the weight of it, the truth of it.
The phone buzzed, and Koushiro nearly yelped. He jerked it away from his face and saw a backup reminder for Eimi's evening medication.
"Er," he sputtered. "Ah- My phone alerted me that it's, um, time for Eimi-san's... Her medication..."
There was no mistaking the delight in Kae's voice. "Well! You don't want her to forget, do you?"
"Er- Well, no, I suppose not."
"I'll let you go, then. You can call me any time, okay?"
"S-sure." Koushiro lowered the phone, pinched his eyes shut, and lifted it again. "Mom? Thank you."
"Any time."
The call disconnected, but Koushiro held the warm mobile to his face and focused on breathing. He felt oddly crowded within himself, bashed around by emotions like a pedestrian swept away by sidewalk traffic. Or maybe it was like being shoved into an overfull train, squished into a steel car with dozens of copies of himself, each one shouting to make their feelings known.
The honest Koushiro might not have been shouting loudest, but his argument was the most appealing: he wanted to make the damned call. Koushiro dialed before his insecurities could seize control, heart rate rising with each ring. Should he have checked in with Eimi sooner? Or was he bothering her enough already?
"Moshi moshi!" Eimi's voice was warm, if a bit surprised. Koushiro drooped in his chair as the tension leaked from his body. She was safe, and seemed pleased to hear from him.
"Good evening," Koushiro replied. "How are you? Have you been taking your medications? It's time for tonight's dose."
A laugh floated through the receiver. Smiling in response, Koushiro moved to his bed, making himself comfortable. "I'm fine, and I've been taking it. How is your work event?"
Koushiro paused. He had passed from overwhelmed to floaty in an instant, and he wasn't sure how to turn his thoughts to everyday things. "Um… I assume it's as normal. I've never had to work this event before, and frankly, I'm not skilled at interacting with teenagers. Happily, I've mostly been taking questions about our curriculum so far."
"That's right, you don't teach undergrads…" She laughed again, and Koushiro grinned at the ceiling. "I bet your students are shocked the first time they take a class with you."
"I'm not too hard on them," Koushiro protested. "But I do insist on thorough understanding of the course material." Eimi made a hedging sound, and Koushiro laughed. "Students do rate professors online, you know."
"Oh stars! I never thought to check that!" The pure delight in her voice made him laugh harder still. "I need to see this!"
"Perhaps you can hold off for a while?" he suggested. "I was hoping we could talk. I've finished today's work, and I'm afraid it's far too quiet."
"Actually, I was about to start a movie. Would you like to stream it together?"
Koushiro's eyes slid shut as any last remnants of discomfort faded. "I would."
"Get a snack," Eimi suggested. "Get comfortable. Are you still wearing a tie?"
Koushiro sighed for effect. As she predicted, he was still dressed for work in slacks, a button down, and a tie. "I'll call you back in a few minutes."
He hung up, then prepared for a night that was suddenly much more enjoyable.
XXX
A few days later, Koushiro sat on Eimi's living room couch, programming on his laptop. The light of a summer afternoon poured through the windows and skylights, warming the room. Despite the heat, Eimi napped beside him, swaddled in a blanket. Aegis sat across Koushiro's feet, with his head nestled over Eimi's.
A bead of sweat slid down Eimi's cheek. It's too hot for that blanket... Koushiro didn't want to disturb her, but he couldn't leave her sweltering. While he deliberated, he moved the book, notebook, and pen from Eimi's lap and placed them on the coffee table. Then, not knowing what else to do, he peeled the blanket away.
Aegis jumped up, smashing into Eimi's legs. Belatedly, Koushiro realized that he had pulled the fabric from beneath the dog, startling him. "Aegis," he whispered. "Sit!" The dog barked in response. Grimacing, Koushiro made the hand motion for 'quiet,' followed by the ones for 'sit' and 'stay.'
Eimi groaned and pushed against Koushiro's side. "S'wrong? S'hot..."
"Yes- Forgive me." After placating eighty pounds of distressed German shepherd, Koushiro turned to Eimi. Her hair fell around her head in haphazard strands, obscuring her squinting eyes. Agitation shifted as he snorted.
"Whasso funny?" Eimi slurred.
"N-nothing. Excuse me." Koushiro gathered her hair, moving it away from her face. His palm came away moist. "You are overheated... Would you like some water?"
Eimi's color progressed from flushed to deep crimson. "I, um- I can get water. Do you want some? Um, I can turn the air conditioning up..."
By Japanese standards, Eimi's central heating and cooling was luxurious. The concept seemed bourgeoisie at first, but Koushiro quickly understood the appeal. "I'm fine, but the blanket and the body heat are a bit much."
That red hue rioted, rushing down her neck. "Ah- I'm sorry, um, I didn't mean to... squish... you?"
"You didn't." Koushiro fought to reign in the grin teasing his cheeks. He looked away long enough to locate her glasses on the coffee table. When his gaze returned to Eimi, his smile vanished.
Her hair was rumpled, plastered to her reddened skin by sweat. Her eyes darted, bouncing anywhere and everywhere in an attempt to avoid his. She looked ridiculous, a picture of embarrassment out of a cartoon.
So why did he find her so damned cute?
She stood suddenly, then fumbled in the blanket. Koushiro caught her flailing arm, steadying her. "Easy!" he cried. "Please, don't move. Here are your glasses."
Eimi put them on while he disentangled her legs from the fabric. "T-thanks. I, um. You know, I... I haven't been in my studio in forever. Maybe I'll..."
"Hm? That's fine, but you know I don't mind if you play guitar here."
She picked up the notebook on the coffee table. "I know, but... I was thinking... Maybe I can try to write?"
"Eimi-san..." Warmth flooded his chest, soothing away any lingering awkwardness. "Enjoy yourself."
"S-sure. Um, I'll get some water, and then... Talk to you later?"
"Yes. Good luck."
She walked towards the kitchen, leaving him in his odd, sentimental bubble. She had practiced guitar and written snippets of lyrics, but to his knowledge, this was her first trip to her working space since she took ill.
She's come so far... She couldn't walk down the stairs unaided a few weeks ago. He glanced at his mobile, which sat on the side table. Would it be strange to text Jyou and Taichi-san with this development?
Probably. Definitely. What are you, a mother posting a picture of her child on the first day of kindergarten? Shaking his head, Koushiro pulled his laptop closer and returned to work.
A few minutes later, a timid whimper caught his attention. Looking up, Koushiro saw Aegis sitting nearby. A jolt of panic sizzled through him. I locked him in the sit, quiet, and stay commands! He gave the sign for release, and Aegis leaped up and left the living room, heading for the studio.
Koushiro was halfway through a line of code when he heard another whimper. Frowning, he set the laptop aside and stood, following the sound. It lead him down the back hall, an area of the house he had never been invited to explore.
The hall split off the living room, with the same white walls and pale wooden floors. He passed a large collection of framed photographs, but had little time to inspect them. A cursory glance revealed familiar faces, most much younger than their live counterparts.
Aegis sat at the closed studio door, staring at the knob. His head swiveled back when Koushiro approached, and his tail wagged. Koushiro scratched him behind the ears, but hesitated to indulge his obvious request.
It was unlike Eimi to exclude her dog. Aegis was always beside her, which suggested that closing the door on him was deliberate. Still, he looked down at Aegis, so loyal and expectant, and hesitated.
The sweet sound of a piano floated through the door, and though Koushiro knew little about music, he recognized the chord progression. The notes came, languid and pensive, the soundtrack of a bittersweet dream. How many times had he heard her perform this song, both live and recorded? Before she drew breath, her voice rang in his mind, clear, sweet, emotive.
When she sang, his thoughts were silenced. An unknown voice, timid and rough, barely reached him. It broke and faltered, struggling to complete phrases, schisming the ties between words that had once evoked a connection.
The music paused, causing a silence almost as painful as the song had been. Koushiro stepped back, wincing. This was a trespass, an intrusion on personal pain. He intended to retreat, but froze when Eimi rallied.
The piano clanged, abused by pounding hands. Eimi upped her volume to match, throwing all of her strength into this volley. Koushiro listened, breath and heart stilled to better hear.
"Oh dream maker, you heart breaker
wherever you're going, I'm going your way-"
All the many, many times Eimi sang this song, she cupped the word 'way' in her hands like a bird and lifted the pitch, offering it to the sky, sending it soaring. But now, a horrible croak interrupted the slide. The piano clanged, and the music was ousted by hacking.
Oh, Eimi-san... How would he feel if illness left him unable to program, to practice the skill at which he excelled? Koushiro couldn't imagine it, and he suspected that Eimi's love of singing ran at least as deep.
With a heavy heart, Koushiro stepped away from the studio. Aegis barked, causing him to startle and turn around. The dog rose to his back legs, placed his front paws on the horizontal doorknob, and pushed down. The door opened, and Aegis ran inside. Koushiro stared, astonished, despite the fact that Taichi had described Aegis's ability to open doors at the hospital. Entranced, he stepped forward, and the sound that had drawn Aegis reached him.
Eimi was crying.
Koushiro forgot that he shouldn't have been listening, and that Eimi didn't welcome people into her studio. All that registered was the need to go to her.
An entire wall of the studio was glass, providing a view of the garden furthest from the outdoor dining area. The prelude of sunset transformed the room into a tiny El Dorado, a shimmering paradise of gold. There was an impression of creativity: instruments, a painting on an easel, a desk littered with papers and writing implements, walls covered with photos and magazine cutouts. All that registered with clarity was the piano and the woman bent over it, shoulders shaking.
He called her name softly, wary of startling her. Eimi jerked against the keys, and the piano declared his failure with a cacophonous groan. She whirled around, eyes red and streaming, face flushed. Aegis sat beside the tiny piano bench, sniffing her, as if to locate what pained her.
Koushiro slowed his approach, wary of her tensing body language. He recalled by degrees that this was Eimi's private place. But how could he back out now, when she was crying in front of him?
"I apologize," he murmured. "I know I wasn't invited in, but..." He crossed the remaining ground between them and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Your voice will heal and grow strong again, just like the rest of you."
Her hand wrapped around his, squeezing hard. "I know the doctor said so, b-but-" She jerked with wet, gulping breaths, and Koushiro realized that she was trying not to cry.
"I'm sorry. Um- Would you rather I stay, or..."
A wretched whimper slid through her clamped lips. She threw her arms around his middle, burying her face beneath his chest. His initial reaction was to panic and spout affirmations, then to lead her to calm through logic. He held her instead, offering silent support as she cried.
Koushiro glanced about the room, hoping to give her whatever privacy he could. A golden gleam caught his eye, and he squinted at the source. Sunlight hit the glass of a framed photo on the piano. Curious, he tipped his head for an angle free from glare and found an image of himself.
The world rushed away with a violence that left his ears ringing, and he could no longer hear or feel the shaking woman in his arms. Instead, he saw her months ago, identifying a spot on his desk as an ideal place for a photograph.
"And right here is where Tachikawa-san belongs, since you sit here all the time. Working is easier when you think of someone special."
Before he knew what was happening, the frame was in his hand, and the silence in his head leaked into the studio. Eimi backed away, a physical tug that pulled him into the present. She grabbed the frame, yanked it from his hold, and held it face-down against her chest.
"I, I'm sorry," she rasped. The rough quality of her voice seemed to remind her that she was crying, and she ran her wrists over her face, scrubbing the liquid away. "I, um… I'll move it."
Koushiro reached down, groping for support. His hand landed on the piano, resulting in an awful clang that made everyone jump. "P-pardon me," he muttered. "I need to sit."
The only available seat was the tiny piano bench. No room remained, but he sat anyway, nudging Eimi to the side. She squeaked and looked at him at last, wide-eyed and flushed beyond belief. Both hands clutched the photo to her heart, as if it might shield her.
Even as Koushiro's brain imploded, his impregnable rationality remained. I don't know why I'm shocked. I suspected this. But to see the proof, to have held it in his hands… This dangerous notion was no longer confined to the indistinct realm of possibility. It was real, information verified and meant to be folded into his world view, like scientific theory formalized by peer evaluation.
Of course, the last convincing research paper he read hadn't left his knees knocking and his pulse reeling.
"I'm sorry, I'll move it-" Although there was nowhere to go on the bench, Eimi somehow inched away from him. "Just, just forget it-"
Koushiro focused on her face, on skin reddening to burning and eyes filming anew with tears. His brain wasn't close to assimilating this information, let alone reorganizing his outlook to accommodate it. But he couldn't afford to wait, to examine all the angles and come to a conclusion. Eimi needed him now.
He placed a hand on her shoulder, and her babbling ceased. "Eimi-san, please. You've done nothing wrong."
A rattle buzzed in her lungs, a sound he thought had healed and gone. "Relax," he said, as much to him as to her. Although he couldn't begin to untangle his feelings- he couldn't even pin down his thoughts, a terrifying prospect- his frazzled, pulsing neurons offered one cohesive truth: "Everything will be alright."
Eimi lifted running eyes to his, and he tried to create the appearance of calm. Slowly, shyly, her hand rose, settling on top of his. "Thank you," she whispered. "I, um… I meant to move the photo, but I guess… I wasn't ready."
Koushiro took hold of the frame and paused when she flinched. When her tension decreased, he eased it out of her hand and placed it back on the piano. He stared at his own image, dazed by the weight of it. He was forced to clear his throat before saying, "Please, don't move it. I'm honored."
Her hand flew to his knee and squeezed. Koushiro turned to her and nearly choked. The longing in her eyes made him want to open himself up and give her what she needed, anything, everything. He was terrified of not being able to provide whatever it was.
How could he explain a longing tinged with fear?
"You are dear to me. Although a romantic relationship with you would surely…" His cheeks blazed, a fire he could feel without seeing. "Surely have… rewards… Logically, continuing our friendship seems safer. I couldn't cope with with losing you if things go poorly."
After a long pause, her hand curled around his. "Koushiro-kun… I'm still friends with Jyou. You're still friends with Tachikawa-san. No matter what happens, I'm not going anywhere."
Koushiro hesitated, stunned by how much he wanted to believe her. "I want this," he said, voicing the only thought he could piece together. "Your presence, your regard. I need them, b-because I, I…"
He trailed off miserably; his mouth and brain seemed to be filled with cotton. He lacked the vocabulary to describe his feelings towards Eimi. Even before the break up, she was a friend, respected, esteemed, enjoyed. But lately, he was aware of a desire to protect and nurture, to be near her, and, most importantly, to support her in all things.
But was that romantic love?
Distantly, his mother's voice whispered into the clamor: Don't overthink it. Focus on what you know. You have nothing to fear.
The room was too hot, slowing his thinking process, leaving him woozy. Those reassurances were likely all that kept him upright and functional, but they couldn't pierce his doubt and anxiety. "You're offering me something so precious," he murmured, "and I… I want it. Desperately. But, even knowing that I can trust you, I'm… frightened."
He had no chance of deciphering her expression, a strange, conflicted blend. Her teeth sank into her lower lip as she looked away. "Koushiro-kun… Before you say anything else, there's something I need to tell you. Because… I'm scared, too."
Although she was safely seated beside him, Koushiro had the impression that she was letting go, preparing for a fall. His arm encircled her waist, pinning her to his side. In a voice as hollow as a spent echo, she whispered, "I've loved you for at least a year."
The swooping sensation in his gut suggested that, while she had jumped, he had plummeted. "A, a year?! B-but- Then-"
Eimi doubled forward, cradling her head with her hands. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to be secretive, not on purpose. While you were with Tachikawa-san, I tried to walk away from my feelings for you. I pulled back, but it didn't… It didn't work."
He stared, unable to respond. Memories collided like puzzle pieces, forming a complete picture. "The tour," Koushiro breathed, understanding at last.
Eimi's stooped head bobbed. "Um, yeah. In retrospect, m-maybe that was stupid. But you were taken, and I couldn't think of another way to back off…"
The puzzle pieces whirled, rearranging with blinding speed, offering images and insights faster than he could process them. He swallowed a groan as he cupped his forehead. "But- Then- When you cared for me after the breakup…"
Her breathing hitched, triggering a coughing fit. Even when it passed, her shoulders remained tight and tense. "Y-yes. I, I'm so sorry."
Koushiro gripped the piano bench with his free hand, certain that he would topple on his ass without the support. How was he supposed to feel about this? The thought that Eimi had loved him for so long seemed impossible, almost laughable. "And, and now…?" he asked, ignoring the hysterical quality to his voice.
She inhaled sharply. "I love you now more than ever."
Recently, Koushiro had learned how deafening silence could be, but the hush of his lonely apartment was bedlam compared to this. His neurons flashed, but no signals leaped between them; he imagined the synapses stripped of receptors, oblivious to the riot of input. But somehow, impossibly, he noticed that Eimi was trembling, heard that villainous rattling deep in her lungs. Aegis whined somewhere nearby.
"Don't cry," Koushiro croaked, too late to be remotely useful. She was nearly bent double, face covered by her palms. Suddenly, her hands dove to her chest, revealing wet, crimson cheeks, grit teeth, and wild, frightened eyes.
"Don't cry," he repeated, but it was an order this time. "Your lungs hurt?"
Eimi tried to swallow a sob, but it retched back up. "Be calm. Everything is fine." Koushiro suddenly wished for the mental numbness from a moment before. Those very same neurons grabbed terror and spread it in a lightening storm of horror. He couldn't afford to picture her in the ICU again, but his brain paraded the images he had haphazardly buried.
Each breath was like a wheeze. Alarmed, Koushiro cupped her cheek and directed her face towards his, holding her gaze. "Don't panic. Breathe. I'm not upset with you. You told me that we'll remain close, no matter what. I'm making the same promise to you."
Her eyes slid shut as her shoulders drooped, and Koushiro nudged her into him. Her head fell on his shoulder, and he counted each strained breath. The tally was quite high when she whispered, "Thank you. I'm sorry."
He rubbed her upper arm in what he hoped was a soothing manner. "For what?"
"I, I should have told you. I just… I was scared."
Koushiro swallowed a hazy laugh. All this time, it hadn't occurred to him that Eimi might be anxious about her feelings for him. Later, he'd probably feel guilty and foolish about that, but right now, it was oddly comforting. "If you weren't ready, then you weren't ready. And, believe me… I know how difficult it can be to turn emotions into words. Although…" Eimi stiffened, and Koushiro hastened to finish. "I fear that I caused you pain."
Eimi straightened and scrubbed her face with her sleeves, drying her tears. "If I'm not to blame for not telling you, then you're not to blame for not knowing. I appreciate you forgiving me. I was kind of… torturing myself over that."
Koushiro's brow furrowed. "Over, over being in… Over having feelings for… For me?"
"Because you were taken," Eimi sighed. "And then because you were struggling with the breakup. And then… because I still couldn't find the strength to tell you."
He tried to catch and hold her gaze, but he was too flustered to execute. "Don't, please. I can't tell you what I would have said then, but I do know that I'd never wish you pain."
"Okay." Eimi drew a long, mercifully normal-sounding breath. "That's… that's everything I have to say."
Koushiro blinked. He was so focused on calming her, and on the alarming sounds from her chest, to recall that he owed her an answer. And now she was watching him, exhausted beyond ability to show the anxiety that had to be screaming in her heart.
Despite the mental acrobatics his brain performed to keep dangerous truths hidden, Koushiro knew damned well what he wanted. Hadn't he already said as much? And here was Eimi, offering it to him with trembling hands. Even in its ravaged state, his mind identified his two options:
Accept her love and strive to return it in full, or allow his insecurities to cripple him all over again.
Slowly, gently, Koushiro cupped Eimi's face with both hands. Her skin was soft, hot, and wet. Panic swelled in her eyes, and he wiped away the tear that leaked free. The ache in his heart told him that there weren't really options, no choices to be made. There was only the truth.
"I love you," he whispered. The urge to qualify, to expand, struck, but Koushiro snapped his mouth shut before the babbling set in. Somehow, mercifully, he had said what mattered, answering Eimi's courage with his.
Her eyes widened and lit, and suddenly, Eimi looked healthier than she had in months. The word 'radiant' rose in Koushiro's mind, but evaporated when Eimi pressed her mouth to his. A detached part of him suggested that he really should have foreseen this outcome. The rest of him ordered the analyst to kindly shut up.
It no longer mattered that Koushiro had little confidence in his physical, romantic, and emotional skills, and if he was afraid of something, he couldn't recall what. Eimi's kiss was tentative, a vulnerable offering. But when he pulled her in and began to explore, to taste, she opened like a morning glory, unfurling petals for the dawn.
By the time they parted, Koushiro was short on breath and coherent thoughts. He blinked at her, then at the room, which had shifted from glittering gold to a softer glow. For a moment, Koushiro wondered if Eimi was somehow generating that light. Her radiance was back, emanating from her blissful, stupefied expression.
A nasal, high-pitched laugh gurgled out of him. "I see I'm going to need something." He waited for a response from Eimi, but she shook her head, not understanding, still smiling hard enough to make her eyes water. With a dazed smile, Koushiro nodded at the framed photo of him on the piano. "I'm afraid I don't have a portrait of you. May I trouble you for one?"
He could only describe her answering sound as a squeak. She opened her mouth to respond, shut it, and nodded, looking comically overwhelmed. "Eimi-san," he breathed, charmed beyond measure.
She didn't seem interested in talking, so Koushiro saw no harm in kissing her instead. And neither, it was clear, did she.
Author's Notes:
IT IS DONE.
Fam, I've agonized over this chapter for… years, honestly. Is it perfect? No, but yeesh, you should see the earlier drafts. This scene varied from Koushiro backing down and asking to remain friends to Koushiro asking to court Eimi (basically date her without any pressure, which caused problems with Eimi's self esteem later in the story) to a terrible Eimi/Koushiro/Jyou love triangle. Like, this story has gone all over the place following variations of this scene.
I finally decided that I wanted Koushiro and Eimi to move forward in a hopeful and optimistic way that still shows the impact of their struggles. The story will gently wind down from here, showing the cast coming to terms with and addressing their problems, instead of avoiding them the way they have for most of the story (oops!).
I actually have a lot of this written! So I'm hoping to update more frequently. Thank you so much for reading! I'd love it if you took the time to review. I hope you're all well!