He notices it: in their texts, their calls, their silences.
In bed just as the clock ticks to one thirty-eight in the morning, when he imagines Machi curled against him, her heartbeat resting on him. He feels the deepest of aches within his chest, a yearning he has never felt for Tohru. It's a consuming, healing fire that spreads from his torso outwards, a burning that leaves him scrolling through their texts, memorizing words to recall when he needs them most.
Never before has he felt so in harmony with another human being.
A human being.
Yeah, that's it.
Not a cursed spirit.
A man in love with a woman.
He smiles as he reads her words, the low light from his phone's screen illuminating his facial features softly; the rest of the room cloaked in near darkness. His fringe falls across his left eye, and though he has to swipe at least two times on late-night texts from Kakeru that he doesn't even read, he doesn't mind. Though the man drives him crazy, he loves him.
He loves so much now.
Machi, Kakeru, Tohru, Haru… even Kyou.
Tohru and Kyou send photos from where they live in the northern part of the country, and he returns in kind with photos of himself and Machi whenever they get the chance to get together. During breaks, they visit for at least a couple of days. And if there's something he loves as much as his love for Machi, it's seeing how well she and Tohru get along. Ever since he had delivered the bathing set from Machi to Tohru in the hospital, she had wanted to meet her.
He remembers the flurry of nervous texts she had sent to him before meeting Tohru.
You don't have to worry, Machi, he had replied. Tohru… she has a way of making everyone feel safe. Appreciated. Loved, too. She'll love you.
And she had. Does.
He receives texts from both of them in quick succession - oh, yeah, how had he forgotten?
Kuragi Machi
tohru-san was lovely, but thats no surprise
did u know she had ur brthr make an outfit spec 4 me?
& she brought me a new set of school supplies
the pencls r mismatched, some already used
evrything is gntly used :x)
Honda Tohru
Yuki-kun! Please have this photo of Machi. :)
His girlfriend was blushing in the picture, one arm hanging at her side while the other was crossed over her chest, hand holding onto her upper arm. But she was smiling that ever-so-slightly crooked grin of hers, crinkles at the outer edges of her brown-grey eyes. He's not sure how to describe her outfit, but…
Ayame made this for her?
He doesn't know why he asks. Maybe he just needs another confirmation. Maybe he still can't believe that his brother would intentionally go outside of his standard for creating "men's fantasies"... for this. Specifically for her. It makes him want to cry.
Honda Tohru
Yes! Isn't it wonderful?
His heart swells, crumples, because Ayame… Yuki wipes a bit of moisture from his right eye as he types out a quick answer to Tohru.
...It is. :')
The photo of Machi is wonderful. Beautiful. Breathtaking.
Oh god, he loves her.
And that outfit, mussed in all the right-wrong places, and incorporating mixed patterns that somehow don't clash together, but work. He knows that his brother has been paying attention to Machi, has heard from Kakeru all the times during their "Defense Force" meetups that his brother has always shown an interest in her. But he never thought that he'd make an outfit just for her that was actually… serious. And well-intentioned.
Turning to lay on his other side, he glances out the window, idly watching the lights from vehicles reflect off the glass of the building adjacent to his living complex. It's never as dark here at night like it used to be at Shigure's. A part of him misses that last year at Kaibara, but he still wouldn't go back if given a chance. He's made new friends in university and strengthened the bonds of old ones.
Haru had just visited a few days ago, and Machi made plans to arrive in the morning during the last few days of Kaibara's break. He's tried to fix up some of his room, but three-fourths through had given up, for a twofold reason: Machi's discomfort with tidiness and perfection, and his lack of actually caring to keep everything pitch perfect as well. He wants to make himself look nice for her first and foremost with a bit of a rumpled shirt, partially untucked.
It's when he hears his bedroom door creak open that he's doubly thankful that he also never followed through on applying WD-40 to the hinges.
He also nearly has a heart attack.
And throws his phone at the black figure in his now open doorway.
Then he realizes it's Machi as she stumbles forward after the phone hits her right under her collarbone. (Because apparently, this is his life now.)
Yuki throws his sheets off his body, not minding his unbuttoned pajama top. He can hardly understand the words spilling from between his lips, half-witted apologies from a sleep-deprived university student (who still stays up late despite it). He pulls her into an embrace, finally formulates a coherent string of apologies.
She mumbles something into the crook of his neck. Pulling back from the hug, he tilts her chin up with a couple of his fingers and asks her to repeat herself. Her face is unreadable.
"I'm going to kill your brother."
Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, Yuki glances upwards as if asking some god for strength, then looks back at her, his smile like thin ice. He agrees with her, not even asking why; he can deduce that he's the reason she's showed up at such a god awful hour. Kakeru, he expects this from, and honestly should have double-bolted his door like he usually does. But he hadn't thought of it tonight.
He invites her to sit bedside with him, twines his fingers with hers. He brings their hands up to his mouth and places a gentle kiss on the back of her hand. Feeling her shiver, he grins and playfully scrapes the skin, not thinking how he'd somehow picked that up from seeing her brother do it to Komaki. She jerks at his hair with her free hand and he yelps, moving his hand to massage the now tender spot on his scalp.
They're still learning each other, but he knows by now that he shouldn't have acted like Kakeru with her. She's not Komaki, he's not Kakeru, and this isn't how he shows affection.
"The hour's muddling my mind," he says. "I'm sorry."
He rubs at his eye, and she flicks the tip of his nose before he can even register her movements. Huffing, he knows he deserves it, accepts it, but moves closer, wrapping an arm around her.
"Did Ayame have any other bright ideas when he gave you this one?" he murmurs, his lips at the edge of her ear. He languidly runs a hand through her hair, then kisses her temple. His other hand rests on her thigh, and her hand lies atop his, squeezing around his fingers.
She hums a moment, then says, "Actually, no. He said… 'I exist to spur on romance, not write its details.'"
Yuki says nothing at first, shocked that his brother could say something so… well, it is kind of like him. But his typically outlandish outfits literally are in the details. He resigns himself again to never completely understanding his older brother. Shaking his head slightly, he chuckles and kisses Machi on the cheek.
"Would you like to come up with ways to kill him?" he asks, not a hint of irony in his voice, but a smirk on the edge of his lips. She turns to him and he hardly has a moment to grasp the glint in her eye before she kisses him on the lips. Involuntarily, he feels a low groan rise in his throat; he'd wanted to look better for her, but now that she's here, her lips slowly moving against his, he doesn't give a care to his pajamas.
She's noticed, though, and he suddenly does again when she rests the cool palm of her hand against his chest. Sometimes he can't be bothered to button up his tops now that he lives on his own. For Tohru, he'd kept himself extremely decent. And Tohru always tells him when she's coming with Kyou. But he vaguely thinks to himself that maybe he's a bit thankful for what Ayame did tonight. Vaguely. Maybe.
Machi breaks the kiss that had slowly been turning into making out, a bit breathless as she finally answers him: "We can write a list in the morning... Yuki."
Sometimes she still flushes a tinge when using his given name, though it's growing rarer with time. Despite the darkness of the room, the faint light from outside shines lightly on their bodies, and he sees the heat on her cheeks. She also isn't wearing what Ayame had made her; he's sure that was her own idea. Not her school uniform, but a lightweight sweater over a white button-up, and dark pants instead of a long skirt. He notices that one of the buttons on her shirt is missing, and parts of the sweater are unraveling.
If that's what she was originally wearing when she met with Tohru and Ayame, Yuki's first thought is that it had to have been another test of restraint for the both of them.
But...
"If that's what makes her feel better, I don't mind leaving a few things out of place, Yuki-kun!"
"Disorder, hm? My dear brother, that's an entirely new line of fashion I can bring to life! Now, if you could tempt Machi into a collaboration…"
Yuki shivers as Machi trails her fingers down his chest to the waistband of his pajama pants. Perhaps they've been more than just accommodating. Perhaps it's transformed into acceptance of who Kuragi Machi is right now, and who she'll grow into in the coming years. He wraps his arms around her, and trembles as her arm goes around his body underneath the fabric, returning the embrace.
It's been over a year and a half since the curse broke, yet hugs and embraces still leave him with a sense of wonder, lost for words, and with the most pleasant ache in his heart. Yuki squeezes Machi tighter, pulling her as close as humanly possible.
"I love you, I love you, I love you," he murmurs right next to her ear. Sometimes he does this, and he knows she's gotten used to it. He can't help the words tumbling out of his mouth, he only feels them burn within him and has to give them vocal form. He kept so much bottled within his mind for years, and once he opened the lid, it couldn't go back on. It wouldn't fit. Even if it did, he never wanted to keep a lid on anything anymore.
She's rubbing circles into his back, her own words a soft, warm flutter against his ear.
"Love you, too. Yuki."
They're no longer the two emotionally constipated teenagers who met at Kaibara High.
Internal walls continue to crumble, and he lays back down on his bed with her. He tucks her hair behind her ear and presses kisses to her forehead, her nose, her lips. The way she quietly giggles, unbidden tears clinging to the edges of her eyes; he wipes at them before realizing his are slightly burning and wet as well. Here he lays, pajama pants and open shirt, his girlfriend still fully dressed. He's sure they're a sight to behold, but he's grateful that Kakeru isn't here to take photos with his phone.
He'd much rather drink in this experience for himself, keeping it only for their memories.
They don't say much more after this; neither of them ever mind the silences. He thinks that sometimes they understand each other better without the noise of words. And tonight, with his vision now fully acclimated to the dimness of his room, he takes his time surveying how she gazes at him. He drinks in the way she licks at her lower lip, her eyes half-lidded, some sort of warmth radiating from them. He doesn't want to surmise anything, but-
She suddenly closes the small gap between them and kisses him again. Yuki shuts his eyes, moaning softly into her mouth. He wraps an arm around her, but that's all they do, and it's more than he had ever so desired.
They simply… kiss, their movements deliberate, an undercurrent of wanting between them. He remembers when they were absolutely terrible at it. Of course their first has been extremely emotionally charged, his side from suppressing so much because of the curse's hold on him. He only remembers how wonderful it felt to finally hold her, to kiss her. It had been a bit messy, but it was as much theirs as this is now.
His hand roams down the curve of her side, resting against her hip. She runs her fingers down his jawline, through his grey hair. If it was earlier, if he wasn't increasingly edging towards falling asleep, he might go further if she also wanted it.
But…
He draws back from her, a tired, gentle smile on his face.
"Sleep?"
She rests her forehead against his.
"Sleep."
Several hours later, in the split second between sleep and wakefulness, he slightly startles at Machi's presence next to him. As the memories rush back, though, Yuki settles into the mattress and sighs softly. The only thing that still somewhat perplexes him is her change of clothing; she's only wearing her now half open button-up and, if what he's feeling under the cover is the truth, she took off her pants and - he dares to peek under and, oh, thank god, she left her underwear on.
Very few lines blur between Machi and Kakeru. Such is the case with shedding clothes overnight and wondering what he might find the next morning. One time Kakeru had taken everything off during a night he'd stayed over, and Yuki had awoken to something that he'd never erase from his memory, no matter how much he might want. Kakeru had complained of the heat. A rather flimsy excuse, but not wanting to dwell on the subject of his friend's state of nudity, hadn't asked any more of him besides to change into his damn clothes.
And to think he believed he'd gotten past the whole "telling a nude person to change into clothes" once the curse had been broken…
Thinking of Kakeru, Yuki realizes he never actually read his messages to him last night. Carefully reaching over Machi to his bedside table, he grabs his phone, noting the time (09:37) before tapping on his messages icon.
Manabe Kakeru
YUN-YUN!
SAY HI TO MACHI FOR ME 3
IT WAS ACTUALLY MY IDEA PASSED ONTO UR BRO
ENJOY UR NIGHT :D
"Oh my god."
He hears Machi stirring beside him, her small waking noises as adorable as ever, but today he can't focus solely on her like he wants. She blinks her eyes open slowly, rubbing the sleepers out of the inner corners. Yawning, she must notice something off about him, because her face falters, a hint of a frown at the edge of her lips.
"Yuki, what's wrong?"
He hands her his phone, dead serious expression on his face.
"I'm going to kill your brother, Machi."
She reads the messages, nods, hands his phone back to him.
Smiling, she says, "We can collaborate on our lists."
God, he loves her.