"Irie," Kotoko whispers, one night when they're laying in bed. He sighs when she rolls over to him, snuggling closer. Her body is so warm against his, but her hands are moving up towards his neck, scratching underneath his hair, dangerously approaching underneath his earlobes.
He's ticklish there, surprisingly, and she knows. Irie sits up abruptly, facing her. "Don't tickle me at night!"
Irie's got this amazing talent — he's able to yell while whispering. He's so loud, but so quiet at the same time.
Kotoko giggles. "I just had a question," she says, still laughing. Her hair is tousled against the pillow, and when she finally places her arms down by her sides, Irie returns to his sleeping position. He's reluctant to do so, however, watching her suspiciously before allowing himself to relax.
"What's your question?" He asks, turning to face her.
"Oh, my question! It's — I've been thinking about this for a while, you see," she starts and Irie almost turns back around right then and there. Her eyes widen in alarm when he sighs.
"It's a good question!" She hisses, and he rolls his eyes. "Anyways. I was wondering…I was wondering what you thought when you first kissed me, back in high school."
Irie stares at her. "This is what keeps you up at night?"
"Just answer it!"
Irie furrows his eyebrows. "That was a long time ago," he says, just to get a reaction out of her. "I'm not sure I even remember."
Her mouth drops open, and Irie laughs, watching her flip over so that she's facing the wall now, instead of facing him. She's so dramatic.
She tugs on the blanket, and he tugs back, frowning for real now. "Kotoko," he says when he feels the cool night air on his feet.
She ignores him, yanks the blanket completely off of him.
He's laying on the end of the bed now, arms crossed, feet bare, and no blanket on his body.
Kotoko fake-snores.
"Stop being like this!" He whisper-screams, reaching over and pulling the blanket off of her. Kotoko scrambles, yelps, holding fistfuls of the blanket tight in her hands. She kicks his thigh, and when he shoves her back in retaliation, she almost falls off the large bed, her fingers clawing at the very edge.
He almost cries, that's how hard he's laughing.
"You are the worst!" Kotoko's face is red, and she curls herself onto the corner of the bed, her knees tucked in close to her chest. Irie glances at her, pouting in the fetal position, and he's completely helpless, unable to curb his laughter.
He manages to stop, but not before his stomach starts to twinge in pain from the exertion. He looks around as he rubs away the wetness in his eyes with his hand. The blanket is a crumpled mess now, forgotten about during their mini tussle.
Irie reaches over, drapes over Kotoko first, and then gets in himself.
"Lay down the right way," he tells her, pulling her closer. He's happy when she obliges, slowly leaning into him. She listens to his heartbeat, a little erratic, but it is steady and it is soothing.
A couple of quiet minutes pass, and then Irie glances down at her, checking to see that she's not actually asleep. She's awake.
"So you want to hear about high school," he says, not whispering anymore. Kotoko looks up, sees a small, amused smile on his face.
She nods, pulling away from him slightly. "Tell me about our high school days," she whispers, waiting for his response.
Irie frowns slightly, but then his face returns to normal, just as quickly. Kotoko wonders why he's angry, all of sudden.
"I'll only tell you about our kiss," Irie says, looking past her. "Nothing else."
"Why not?"
"I thought that's what you wanted to hear," Irie starts, glancing back at her, "but if you don't then I guess — "
"Just the kiss! Just the kiss!"
Irie is quiet. He looks down at Kokoto, smooths back her hair. "There's really nothing to tell," he admits, and she pauses.
"Did you think I was pretty back then?" She asks, watching his face.
"Would I kiss you if I thought you were ugly?"
"No, but…"
"Then that's it," Irie says, closing his eyes.
"Was I a good kisser?"
Irie pauses. "I was your first, wasn't I?"
"Yes, but…"
Irie sighs. "It wasn't bad," he tells her, because he knows that's what she wants to hear.
"Why did you kiss me?" She asks, blinking at him.
He is quiet.
"Was I irresistible?" Kotoko asks, poking him. She laughs at her own joke, and Irie smiles, despite himself.
"I kissed you because I wanted to," he tells her, gauging her reaction.
"That's obvious," she replies, frowning.
"Obvious? What do you mean obvious?" He's irked. Here is he, giving her good answers, and she's indifferent, uncaring.
"You're supposed to say something romantic — like I was a magnet to your beauty," Kotoko tells him, off in her own dream world.
He laughs briefly, despite himself. "Your beauty was magnetic," he corrects, forcing himself to be stern.
She pauses, turning to him. "R — Really?"
"That's the correct saying!"
"Oh."
Irie yawns. "You wanna know the real reason why I kissed you?" He asks, laying his arm around her.
She nods.
"I wanted you to only love me," he tells her, sleepily. From this distance, he can see the exact moment her eyes widen and her lips part, ever so slightly.
Kotoko is quiet. She snuggles closer to him, and he welcomes her warmth. "I love you," she whispers into his chest, and he holds her, a little tighter.
He can't fall asleep with her like this, so close, so warm, so lovely.
"What did you think of our high school kiss?" He teases, speaking into her hair. She smells like vanilla. A comforting, simple scent. It's so like her. He loves it.
She laughs. Irie finds it hard to let go of her when she shuffles slightly, trying to look up at him.
He releases her, eventually.
"I thought you hated me," she admits, looking into his eyes.
Irie pauses.
"I really thought you hated me," she repeats, a certain sadness in her eyes.
He's about to say something, when she suddenly jumps in his arms, sputtering an explanation.
"Not because you kissed me, that would be weird! No, I didn't think you hated me because you kissed me, haha!"
Irie is quiet.
"I — I thought you hated me because of the way you acted afterwards," she continues, trailing off.
Irie doesn't know what to say. He is still quiet, and still blinking at her. Kotoko snuggles in his arms, wrapping her own around his side.
"It's okay," she tells him, just the faintest of whispers. "I know you don't hate me anymore."
"I never hated you," he replies, not whispering. "I never hated you at all," he admits, his eyes following her as she pulls herself up.
"But you said, you said you hated stupid girls, " Kotoko says, even quieter than before, stumbling on her own words. He can't even see her that well, in the darkness of their room, but the hurt from that day is still palpable, clearly written all over her face and saturated in her voice.
He is surprised she remembers that, even more surprised that he remembers the exact day. He supposes hate is much stronger for her than it is for him.
She pauses when he sits up, her eyes sweeping over his moon traced silhouette.
"I was wrong," he says, eventually, and that's all he can say. Irie feels a strange choking sensation erupt in his chest, tightening his face and his chest, and he doesn't want to confront it, so he lets it be.
Kotoko understands. She takes his hand in hers, interlocking their fingers. Her hands are small, her fingers are thin, but they are warm and solid and grounding.
"I hated you then," she admits, smiling, and he turns his attention back to her.
What?
She giggles at his expression. "I think you're the worst sometimes," she tells him, leaning up to kiss him. He's too stunned to move, to do anything, so he just lets himself be kissed.
"Sometimes I do hate you," Kotoko tells him, breaking the kiss. "But I'll always love you."
He holds her, pulling her tight against him. It's only when she pats his back, that he lets go.
Irie kisses her, a chaste press of his lips against hers. He lets his fingers linger on the sides of her face, and he searches her eyes.
"I'll always love you, too," he whispers, brushing away the tears that fall from her eyes.
He lays back down on the pillow, holding her close to him. It's difficult to pull the blanket back on, even harder when Kotoko refuses to stop clinging onto him, but he manages.
He stays awake for a portion of the night, stroking her hair long after she's fallen asleep, thinking back to previous years with a certain disdain for his younger self.