A/N: Realized I haven't said this before, but the title of this fic is from the song "Name" by The Goo Goo Dolls. I chose it because the full line is, "I think about you all the time, but I don't need the same." I think that's fitting for this piece.
Honestly, Tohru isn't quite sure where to start. She's only met Asahi twice, but it's already become such a complicated relationship. And it'll probably just get worse from here, she knows, now that she's slept with him. She doesn't have much experience with men to begin with, but a one night stand is completely new territory for her—especially because she's pretty sure he wants it to be more than that, and she's just simply not sure what she thinks of it.
She's always heard from her friends that men can have sex with no feelings involved. But that's not Asahi. She already knows that much. There's no way he doesn't have some kind of emotional attraction to her, what with the phone calls and flowers and just how generally tender and caring he'd been. And besides, is she the kind of person who can have sex with no feelings involved, anyway?
No...there are definitely feelings involved. She just has no idea what they are. But they're not exactly good.
Getting Asahi out of her apartment earlier this afternoon was an adventure all on its own—because he was content to lie in bed and press kisses to her shoulders, and then because he obviously likes her, he wanted to take her out to lunch (but after a lunch invitation from Kyo, he unknowingly stood no chance).
She doesn't tell Kyo all of that, though, because why on Earth would she?
"He's really kind."
"So what's the problem? You develop a bad-boy complex?"
Tohru sighs and pokes at her ramen with her chopsticks. Across the table, Kyo waits patiently for her to answer, working on his own food in the silence.
"I don't know," she says finally, shaking her head. "Maybe I'm not ready, or maybe he's just not right."
(He's definitely not right, and she knows exactly why, but she doesn't say that, either.)
Kyo shrugs. "I don't know much about dating, but if there's nothing there, then there's nothing there, I guess. Ya can't force it."
"You...haven't you been dating?" She's not sure why she says it—she just does, and then she can't take it back, of course. And Tohru knows exactly what answer she wants to hear, too, and that makes her feel so guilty that she briefly considers taking a page from Kyo's book and just making a mad dash away from the situation.
"Nah. Not at all, really."
"Why not?"
"Can you really see me, like, finding a girl and getting married or any of that?"
"Yes," she says immediately, then instinctively slaps her palm over her mouth, which she's sure just makes it worse, in the end.
Kyo's quiet for a minute, then he just mumbles, "Well, I can't."
"Oh," Tohru says, because what else is she supposed to say to that?
"So why aren't you ready?" Kyo asks, trying to change the subject. "Is it 'cause of what's-his-face?"
"His name was Itsuki."
"Yeah, sure. So is it 'cause of him?"
"Probably," she lies. She's noticed she's been getting good at that lately.
"That makes sense. Something like what you went through has to be traumatizing."
"How do you...know what happened?"
His cheeks light up pink. "I don't, really. Just...well, Haru told me that you got cheated on. I guess he heard from Rin or something."
"I didn't exactly try to keep it a secret," she admits.
"Good. He deserved to be exposed after that. People say it's part of our culture or whatever, but that's such bullshit."
There are words sitting on Tohru's tongue, now, heavy and bitter. She hesitates for the briefest of moments, then lets them come out. "I...I came home from work one day. There were two pairs of shoes in the genkan—one I knew was Itsuki's, but the other looked like some kind of women's dress shoes. I just got this sinking feeling in my stomach. I don't know why, but I just knew what was going on. And I should have just turned around and left, but...instead, I went into our bedroom and found them having sex."
"Wait, you saw it?"
Tohru nods and swallows, her throat feeling thick with lingering grief. And that grief makes her feel so weak. It's been seven months since this happened, and six since she left Itsuki. She should be okay now, shouldn't she? But maybe this has more to do with everything than she thought.
And why is she telling Kyo this now, anyway? While he used to be her best friend and her confidant, he's neither of those things anymore. This man may as well be a stranger, right? But still…
"Damn. What did you do after that? Did he see you?"
"Yeah, he saw me. I just kind of stood there. I couldn't move. He got out of bed and came running over, yelling out all kinds of apologies and excuses."
"What a dick." Kyo sounds legitimately bitter, angry for her that she went through that, and it settles Tohru's gut a little bit—maybe, behind this exterior of the full-grown man he is now, he's still just a mildly hot-headed dork, who is still fiercely protective of her. Despite the tears gathering in her eyes from recounting the situation, she feels a smile start across her cheeks.
"And I stayed."
"You stayed," Kyo repeats, half a question and half just a statement of disbelief.
"Yes. For a month. He said he'd work on it. We could go to therapy. But...he didn't even try, in the end."
Kyo takes a big breath and exhales it slowly, as though working on calming himself down. "Well, I'm...I'm glad you left, Tohru."
"But it took me so long," she chokes out, and she hates the tremor in her voice, and the way it's accompanied by tears finally spilling out of her eyes. There are so many things about herself that she doesn't understand at the moment—her inability to move on, both from Itsuki's betrayal and her love for Kyo; her increased aptitude for lying; how she's whining in public, like she's a small child.
"So?" he asks. She looks up at him, nonplussed by this response. He's looking down at his bowl of ramen, cheeks a fantastic shade of red. "You still left. You realized you deserve more than that. And well, knowing you, that's a big deal. I'm proud of you, Tohru."
He doesn't sound exactly proud—more remorseful and pitying, almost—but Tohru takes the words for what they are. She nods a little, sniffling.
"Thank you."
He nods back and lifts a hand. For a second, she thinks he might touch her, and her heart lifts at the idea, but he hesitates and lies it back down on the table. Tohru mourns the loss of the imaginary touch.
She wipes her eyes and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry for dumping all of that on you."
"Don't apologize. I asked you to. And besides, you know how it is with me...you don't have to feel bad about telling me how you feel."
Does she know that, though? Sort of, she supposes. Everything she'd ever told him had been listened to carefully, considered deeply, and then responded to with warmth and kindness—he never said he was disappointed in her.
Except for when…
Tohru bites her lip. "Are you done eating?" she asks.
"Oh, uh. Sure." He looks between his bowl and hers. They're both still half-full, but she's not sure she can take much more of this.
He goes to the counter to pay, and Tohru stands outside the front door to wait. The air is lighter outside, so she sucks in as much of it as humanly possible. Because she's sure that when Kyo comes out, it'll be hard to breathe again.
After Kyo pays, denying multiple offers from the waiter for to-go boxes, he shoves his wallet back in his pocket and heads outside.
For a second, he just stands in the doorway, unable to move. Tohru's almost glimmering in the afternoon sun—her chocolate hair is shining a shade of golden now, her pale skin glowing. She's beautiful. She's always been beautiful, of course, but now...he can't explain it, but he knows it sort of makes him want to cry. He slides into place next to her, and they stand in silence for a minute, both just staring up at the blue, clear sky.
"Can I walk you to the station?" Kyo asks.
"It's okay. It'll probably be out of your way."
"But—" Kyo starts to protest, but Tohru cuts him off by touching his hand. She takes his pinky finger and wraps her entire palm around it, squeezing for a second before releasing him.
"It's sweet of you to be worried about me. But really, I'm fine."
Kyo has no idea what to do, so he just nods lamely.
"Kyo-kun, can I…?" Tohru starts, then trails off. Kyo waits for her to continue. Whatever the question is, he'll say yes, of course. He doesn't have the strength to deny her anything she might want, and he is sure they both know it.
But instead of finishing her sentence, Tohru just reaches out to Kyo again. Suddenly, her arms are around his torso, pulling him in. She lays her head against his chest and squeezes her eyes shut, her grip on him tightening.
It takes Kyo a second to be able to respond. Once his brain has recovered from the initial shock of being hugged—and by Tohru, of all people—he is able to lift his arms and slide them around her waist. He buries his nose in her hair, breathing her in. He doesn't deserve this, not at all. But he also can't bring himself to push her away, even though he thinks that would be better for her. It'll be better for her if she doesn't get close to him again.
It's selfish of him to even be here in the first place, after all.
The two stand there for many long moments, squeezing each other gently, as though they might break the other if they get too rough. Kyo feels wetness against his t-shirt and frowns. Is she crying? He hugs her tighter in response, moving one hand up to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her long hair. And despite how awkward things were up until just a few minutes ago, this feels like the most natural position in the world for the two of them to be standing in.
Finally, Tohru pulls back and looks at him, wiping her eyes hastily. "Sorry. I just...never got to do that after the curse broke."
"It's okay," Kyo responds gently, studying her face. Her cheeks are wet and her eyes red from shedding tears, strands of hair clinging to her damp face. Some might say that she looks like a mess. He just thinks that she is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.
"Anyway...thank you for meeting me today, and for buying lunch."
Kyo forces himself to smile, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. "Anytime," he says, and he means it with his entire being.
Tohru returns the smile and starts off toward the station, waving over her shoulder. Kyo watches her until she is out of his line of sight, then turns to go to the station he needs to get to his own home. He doesn't know what just happened. But he does know that he would give absolutely anything to feel her arms around him again.
Selfish.
For the rest of the afternoon and evening, Kyo has a weird, nagging feeling in his gut that something just isn't right. He can't really put his finger on what exactly is wrong, so he tries to go about his evening as normal—he cleans up around the apartment, goes for a run, then gets into the shower. There, it hits him.
Tohru's really not okay. She's spiraling.
Before this afternoon, he hadn't observed her so closely in a long time, so he couldn't identify that look she had about her at first, but he knows now that she's not okay. She'd been even paler than usual, brown eyes dull, and when she looked at him, it was like she'd been staring right through him.
He towels off quickly and weighs his options. His first thought is to call Uotani, but he of course doesn't have her number anymore. He realizes pretty fast that he's alone in this, and the thought briefly terrifies him. But...it's not selfish to contact her if she needs somebody, right? It's not like she'll reach out to anyone, herself. So he texts Tohru, even though it's pushing 11 PM now.
"You up?"
He doesn't get a response right away, which makes him feel a little better and a little more unsettled at the same time—she's either asleep or something is seriously wrong. Finally, though, his phone buzzes.
"Yes."
Immediately, he knows what he needs to do, what he wants to do.
"This might sound weird, but can I come over?"
"Now?"
"Yeah, now."
She sends her address, and as soon as he reads it, he's taking off out the door.
Tohru has been sitting in the dark since she got home. She'd changed into pajamas and immediately plopped down in the corner of her living room, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, effectively rolling herself into an egg-like position.
For 20 years, Tohru Honda has been good at smiling. Even when everything's wrong, she can whip out a bright grin that's guaranteed to make everyone around her feel better, in turn making her feel better, too.
But for the last seven months, her heart's been a mess. She's not sure how to smile and truly mean it anymore. And after pouring out every traumatic detail of her failed engagement to Kyo this afternoon, after having sex with someone for absolutely no reason last night, it's just worse. She knows she's going down, but she doesn't know how to stop the downward spiral of her mind.
When she gets a text from Kyo asking if he can come over, she has no idea what to say. Part of her desperately wants him to come over and wrap her up in his arms so she can cry into his chest again. Part of her wants him to come over and kiss her, and never stop kissing her. But most of her knows that those are completely irrational scenarios to be pining for.
She gives him her address.
When her doorbell rings about an hour later, she finally drags herself off the ground and heads to the door. She opens it and sees Kyo on the other side, a plastic grocery bag in one hand and a bundle of flowers in the other. She stares up at him with wide eyes. Even with the only light source being the dim lamp in the stairwell leading up to her apartment, she can see how flushed his face is.
"Hey," he says.
"Hi," she says back.
They stare at each other for a second, then Kyo coughs awkwardly. "Oh, uh, come in!" Tohru blurts in response, then steps aside.
"So," he says, heading into her kitchen and setting everything down on the counter, "I brought some stuff."
The way he strides across the room with such confidence makes her feel odd in the best way possible. He's acting like he's spent an extensive amount of time here before, like he belongs here. She wishes that were true.
"You didn't have to do that."
"Wanted to. You didn't eat much earlier, so I picked up some sushi. It's just some Lawson's stuff, so don't expect too much, but they're all that's open right now. And I hope you still like milk tea, because I impulse-bought a shit ton of that. Oh, and, uh."
He picks the flowers back up and holds them out to her. He starts off staring at the ground shyly, but after a second, he seemingly gathers his courage and looks up at her, holding steady eye contact—despite how hard he's blushing and the fact that his hands are trembling a little.
Wait.
Is he...nervous?
Does he—?
"Tulips," she says dumbly, then forces herself to reach out and take them.
"Yeah," he confirms. "It's springtime now, and I see these growing all over the place this time of year. And well...you're spring, too."
Tohru bites her lip. "They're beautiful. Thank you."
Kyo just nods a little and takes them back from her. He turns on the tap and asks, "Got a vase anywhere? Don't want them to die."
The flowers Asahi had brought her yesterday ended up wilted, and therefore thrown out, after being forgotten in the kitchen, so an empty vase is still sitting on her counter. The idea of putting Kyo's flowers in it now makes her stomach churn with guilt, but she gestures to it anyway. She watches him arrange the flowers in the vase, and when he's done he blows out a harsh breath, making his bangs fly for a second.
"I dunno how to make flowers pretty," he admits.
"They look great."
"Yeah? Good. Well...wanna eat? I'm starving."
She nods, and then that's what they do. They sit on her couch and eat the sushi straight out of the container with disposable chopsticks, so Tohru won't have to do dishes later. They don't talk much, but unlike the silences at the restaurant earlier, this quiet isn't heavy. It's almost peaceful, in fact. Tohru thinks that it's just what she needs.
Around 1 AM, she starts to get tired, and before she can think twice about it, she leans over and rests her head on Kyo's shoulder. It stiffens under her, but after a second he relaxes and even lays his own head on top of hers. Her breath catches, because despite the fatigue that's settling in on her brain, she has butterflies.
"I know you're sad," he whispers. "You didn't have to tell me all that today."
"Talking about it is supposed to help."
"Yeah, sure, but it obviously didn't."
"No. But this is."
He's quiet for a few long moments, then just murmurs, "Do you want me to stay, then?"
It's the easiest question she's ever had to answer. "Yes."
"Then I will."
A/N: A little happier? I'm so glad to hear that you guys are invested in this so far—honestly, that means so much to me. Thank you, as always.
