"Grandma, have you seen Hikari?" Takeru asked as he carried a tray of omurice, another cup of ginger tea, and a few more honey buns from earlier, Hikari's favorite.

"Hikaru?"

"Hikari. She wasn't in our room."

"That girl? I haven't seen her since the chakai. Maybe she went to get some fresh air."

Takeru accepted this and was about to leave when his grandmother spoke: "Say, Takeru," she said seriously. "Tell me the truth."

The truth? Takeru leaned earnestly towards the older woman, tray still in hand.

"Is she pregnant? Does she need to hide here?"

The tray fell a few inches. Takeru quickly tried to catch it, along with his lost balance. Pregnant?! He hadn't even —

"No, no Grandma! We just had a rough trip, and she was pushing herself!"

The young man barely caught his grandmother's "Ah, zannen," as he steadied himself. He then propped the tray on a table and knelt in front of his grandmother.

"And grandma, it's not 'Hikaru'. 'That girl' is Hikari-chan."

"Eh? The one with the pink scarf?"

Takeru stared in shock. Hikari had lost that pink scarf at a school festival years ago, but it was her trademark for quite some time prior. How could his grandmother have known about that?

"How could I forget? All those days you talked about nothing else!."

Takeru gave a shy laugh, and said "Ah, was it that obvious?"

"Back then my eyes were starting to go, but you talked so much about that girl I wished my ears were instead!" she teased. Takeru gave an embarrassed laugh in return. He always believed he had been a bit more discreet with his grandmother about his interests.

They had just returned from their summer full of adventure: full of colossal fights, noble sacrifices, new friends lost and gained, in joyful reunions and long farewells.

All these he shared with the other chosen children — but there was one thing he could not.

At first he just found her cute, then soon, also kind. But he immediately discovered she was so much more than that. Even back in Setagaya, he never found anyone quite like her. He grew so full of so many feelings he felt he might explode, something warm bubbling inside him that he couldn't contain.

But he could tell no one. His mom was too busy (not like he would have wanted to talk to her about it anyway.) His peers wouldn't understand. It was too childish for Yamato, and telling him was too risky (he and Taichi were still in regular contact; conflict is still contact.)

So he told the only person he could: his grandmother. They visited her only on some school breaks, and if she were to tell anyone — and she wouldn't — she was too far away to do any actual damage.

With Yamato out of earshot, it would flow, though more as a light trickle than a downpour. A hint of her eyes here, an observation on her voice there. His grandmother would drop responses only so occasionally that he was now surprised to learn she was actually listening.

"She took most of the old photos you sent, ne?"

"Ah, not many others take photos of me, grandma," he replied modestly.

"You know, even then I knew. I saw it in your smile," she explained. "because it always reminded me of how your grandfather would look at me."

Takeru didn't know what to say.

"Until now, when you talk to her, I can hear it in your voice, and see your grandfather — the same voice, same gentle smile."

It was true: his smile for her was always special.

Though it started as a little crush, just being a bit happier having her around, there came moments he realized it had grown greater than that. Seeing her struggle in Mugendramon's city, losing her in the Dark Ocean, pulling her back from Yggdrasil's corruption. Each time he realized: he couldn't bear to lose her.

Still, he never found the way to tell her. Even if he did, he didn't want to. It was too great a risk.

So he was content to simply love her however she wished, even if only as a friend.

He had tried dating other girls to see how they would both feel about it (he knew it was terrible, but all things considered, he was the only one who got hurt in these), but she always simply drew a friendly line between them: the willful wingman, the supportive best friend, as she was for everyone.

It was only through her viewfinder that he knew her eyes were focused on him, and only him. Through her lens, she was all his — if only for a moment. So he made the most of it: he smiled for her.

On his lips were cradled all the words he could never find; in his eyes, all their futures he yearned for: pulling autumn leaves from her auburn hair as they walk home hand in hand, cooking hot noodles for each other on some cold winter night, watching her blink into waking as she glows in the gleam of a mild summer morn.

And as a whole, an expression of peace, with the fact that she may never realize any of these – and that he could love her just the same, regardless.

So when she suddenly confessed just months ago, he could only say what he had always known: of course, I love you. Nothing had changed. Only now, she had finally decided that she could possibly love him back.

Takeru laughed lightly. "Hikari herself only realized recently, I think. She was always too busy looking out for everyone and everything else first."

"Maybe she's still developing her tastes."

He did hope she was developing something . Though they had been together for months, they were still navigating the new territory.

He wished he may reach for her and she might not balk back; that he may pull her into his arms and she might melt into them, that he may finally offer her a kiss, and she might want to return it.

She wasn't there yet, but he was willing to wait. For now, he was satisfied to love her however she wished, as he always had.

"Well, she surely doesn't have a taste for good tea yet," Takeru's grandmother said with a huff.

"Maybe when she's feeling better, grandma. She prepared so much for this too. She wanted it to be perfect."

"Eh? You city children misunderstand. The tea ceremony isn't about perfection, Takeru," she said sternly. "It's about seeing the beauty in imperfection."

Takeru nodded at his grandmother.

They sat in silence for a moment, with only the sound of wind whispering to rustled leaves outside.

"But if you do want to get pregnant, let me know, ne. We'll make it work."

"Grandma!"

It didn't take long for Hikari to find the laundry room, and when she did she quickly set on her task at hand: washing Takeru's soiled hat. It took some work, but soon enough it smelled like spring, and looked good as new, if she did say so herself.

She was on her way back to their room, when she heard the word 'pregnant' from the thin paper walls and stopped in her tracks. As if things couldn't get any worse, now she thinks …

She debated with herself about stepping in right there and then to set things straight, but as they went on, she could only stand stunned.

She hadn't worn that scarf in years.

Suddenly, she found the answers to all her questions. She had read it all wrong, but she finally understood.

The realization was just dawning on her when Takeru opened the panel door and found her standing there. "There you are, I was looking for you. How are you?" he said with a smile, with the slightest hint of worry.

"I washed your hat," she replied, eyes timidly cast to the floor, hand offering his still damp hat.

"Hey, it looks good as new!" he said, setting the tray of food aside to receive it. "You didn't have to, but thank you," he said with the same gentle smile. "Would you like some lunch?"

She took a breath before finally saying: "I'm sorry for all the trouble, Takeru."

The weight of her words felt too heavy to be talking only about lunch. So he responded, "No, no trouble at all," with his usual lightness. "I'm just happy we're here."

She didn't know what to say, so she let words fail as her body took the lead. She took a cautious step forward, then slowly, carefully, wrapped her arms around him.

He was frozen for only a moment, before he wordlessly enveloped her back in the embrace. Her head landed on his chest, where, for the first time, she heard the delicate whisper of his heart. As her breath synced with its cadence, she wondered how she had waited so long to get here.

They stood entwined with each other for a while, until one of them finally whispered, "Thank you," and the other nodded.

Through her now tousled hair, he aimed to kiss her on the forehead, but she looked up just in time.

A quick peck.

They both stared at each other in surprise, before bursting into laughter.

"Next time," Takeru said, "how about we get grandma a laptop?" Hikari nodded with more laughter, as he led her to the engawa to lunch, and the blossoms of spring danced in the distance.