II. Absolute

I've seen this one before, the girl she gets away
Everybody knows it but no one tries to stop it
Cause she barely even knows him but if she could see inside
Everything is quiet as she waits to tell him who she is

MITSURU STARES AT the unknowing Akihiko from behind the daily newspaper. She isn't sure if he doesn't seem to notice due to being preoccupied or simply his denseness. She likes to hope it's the former and not the latter. Her eyes stay for about a nanosecond before raising her flimsy shield for cover. The odd time he does catch her stare, his face flushes a bit and he stops tying his boxing gloves.

Despite his obvious discomfort, he manages to stammer, "W-What?"

She smiles. He's a lot stronger than she thinks. She raises her eyebrows at him without missing a beat and states the obvious. "It looks like we're alone."

The blush on his face only worsens and he fiddles with the hem of his shirt. He manages to squeak out an, "And?"

"Nothing." She takes a moment to alternate her crossed legs. He hates how it's playing with his mind and it seems like she's doing this on purpose. She smiles the length of the room and something in his chest begins hammering. At first he can't place the feeling, but then it slowly hits him. Nervousness. He's never been nervous before he met her and he hates how there's something about her that puts him on edge.

There's something sinister about the way she's smiling but he pushes the thought aside. The red boxing glove he's tying slips from his hand and he prays she doesn't. In the back of his mind he knows she'll notice. She's Mitsuru; nothing goes unnoticed. Ever so slowly, he raises his gaze and sees her still staring. Suddenly she stands up, and he's afraid she's caught onto him. Instead, she asks if he wants some tea and he's nodding his head, unable to speak. Less than a few minutes later, she's sitting back into her chair and crossing her legs, playing with his mind again. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Instead he turns back to his gloves and tries to focus.

It's a few minutes later and he hears the screeching of the water kettle. When she stands to turn the stove off, he gets up and meets her in the kitchen. Before she can switch the knob, he reaches around her which catches her off guard. He can tell she felt something similar to what he's been feeling and he can't help but smile now that the tables have turned.

He opens his mouth to speak and she watches in fascination. "How about coffee instead?"

She stares at him, bewildered. "Coffee?"

"Coffee. You know, they grow it in Brazil."

For a moment neither of them say anything, but then the moments up and she's moving aside, trying to get out of his way. His grasp remains firm on the counter but he chooses to let her escape, then watches as she fills the mugs with some instant coffee grounds. He follows her across the kitchen and when his fingers touch hers it's like there's electricity in the air—something buzzes, then the feeling submerges. He's not sure if it's the atmosphere, or the fact that it's the first time they've been alone in ages, but he takes the mugs from her and places them safely onto the counter. Before she can ask what he's doing, he takes her hand and pulls her towards him. He waits until she's a breath away before brushing his lips against hers.

At first he feels her mouth shift in protest, but she can't move because his hands are holding her still and before he knows it her hands sliding up his chest, returning the favor. He hears a low moan and can't help but feel surprised it comes from himself. Damn. He's a little embarrassed she's affecting him this much but figures it's alright since he feels her tiptoe into the kiss, adding her own strength to it. He's always figured she was taller than him so this comes as a nice surprise.

It's the first time they've kissed since meeting and it's oddly settling. His lips against hers feels something that isn't strange—new, untested. He doesn't know how far he's supposed to go so his brain goes into auto-pilot and he starts using his free hand to push aside the mugs. He opens one eye when he feels her hand helping him. A breath later he pulls away, leaving her secretly wanting more. Her eyes are piercing him now, pleading for more. How far were they going to go? How far did she want him to go? He stops short when he hears the doorknob jiggle and he takes a step back quickly. Her face is flushed red and he can't help but feel a little proud of what he's done to her with her lipstick smeared and her hair disheveled. She looks like an absolute mess and he wouldn't have it any other way.

The silence between them is deafening as Yukari and Junpei walk into the dorm followed by Hamuko. It only hits him now that they've been alone close to all day and he's worried they'll be able to tell something happened. Lucky for him Yukari and Junpei seem too caught up in arguing to notice the blush that's wiped across his own face. Mitsuru studies his face carefully in silence, not afraid of what he'll do next, but what he'll say.

He knows the next words that come out of his mouth will be crucial but looks down at the ground for a moment, almost as if he's ashamed of his own actions.

"Sorry."

The word has no meaning for the first two seconds, then it starts to process into her mind. She's puzzled as to why he would say sorry in the first place. Was he sorry he kissed her? Was he sorry for being so forward? Then the word starts to offend her but she's too cool and aloof to let him know how much. Instead she nonchalantly looks away and starts up the stairs to her room.

He wonders if he should at least chase after her, but he thinks too hard and the faint door squeak in the distance lets him know she really left.