Chapter 7 Development

The search for the better charmer should anticipate the expression of asking or being asked out. Youko couldn't believe how soon it was, and how soon her reply turned out. Her head resting on her elbows, she sighed and replayed the events in her head.

"I would like to answer you properly, after thinking things through." There was sarcasm in her voice, though externally she looked very prim. Her answer was an unconscious retort to her former confession that was abruptly denied.

Her classmates looked away as if expecting that Hiromu would be embarrassed. His face remained plain as it was, but he was holding his pen firm. Loosening his grip, he bowed at her and muttered, "Please take your time," and vanished leisurely from their view.

Never did he bow at her during the war. Either he was being proper in her classmates' presence or unfamiliarity was growing between the two of them. For Youko, he was a puzzle to her, a mystery that was strangely attractive and dangerous. Sometimes he would seem bold in what he feels and would easily express it. In other times, he would be as rigid and as expressionless as a rock.

These things lingered in her head even when she took her college entrance test for aeronautics and engineering a few weeks after.

When it was over, Youko did what she was asked, to stay by the gate and wait for Ryuuji to come. Applicants either went home with their parents or special persons in their lives. Since she had none, a little piece of jealousy was heard when she let out a huge sigh.

And as if fate was playing with her, she saw the figure of the last person that she wanted to meet. He was not in his lab gown but he was wearing the same old tanned jacket that he used to wear during the war. Nick was in bike mode and muttered cheerily, "yoroshiku!"

"Ryuusan asked me to" he said, breaking her line of thought as he passed to her an extra helmet in yellow.

"It doesn't matter," the ice in her tone was apparent. She sat on the passenger seat while carefully distancing herself from Hiromu's back. The engine started and she lost her balance, her upper body crashing with his back. As if on cue, Hiromu grabbed her wrists to straighten her balance. Her hands felt cold.

"Careful, or you'll fall." He said, inserting her hands in the pockets of his jacket where a pair of little warm packs can be found. He removed his hands and started the engine again.

Youko rolled her eyes and whispered to herself, careful not to let him hear, "Already did. Didn't i?."

"What? Did you say something?" he asked. Nick's engine and the sound of cars and motors passing by were too loud.

He heard grunts than words. But on their way home, Youko wouldn't forget those moments by the stoplight, where instead of breaking loose to let him breathe properly, he would grab her wrists again and wrap it around his torso. His hands idled on top of hers, preventing it from getting ice cold.

He did it for at least 5 stoplights.

"If you're not in bad terms with him, you will never react this way, Youko" Ryuuji flipped over the pages of the new mecha design magazine that he had confiscated from one of his juniors. It was already months after the motorcycle incident. Though Youko was successful in getting the course that she wanted, she was not able to fix the tension between her and Hiromu. Hiromu got too much work in his hands and was only seen a few times in a month.

"He is a boy and i am a girl. Isn't that enough answer?" Youko didn't approve the idea of sharing a two bedroom suite with Hiromu on their upcoming gobusters reunion that week in Osaka.

"You shared rooms during the war."

"That's different" she replied quickly, for the circumstances were indeed different during that time. She was infatuated to him as his sempai and nothing more.

Ryuuji looked at her suspiciously. "Hiromu isn't a stranger to you. And I would have preferred it than you sharing it with somebody else, especially that Nakamura-san and Rika-san won't be coming. Besides, he knew nothing malicious. He's proudly inexperienced."

"Thanks for the extra info Ryuusan" She tugged the ends of her hair, completely embarrassed at the last remark.

And the anticipated had happened, she found herself standing at the common room of the two bedroom suite, face to face with an equally awkward Hiromu who suddenly blurted about journals related to her course. Soon, Ryuuji, Kuroki-san, Nick, Usada, Gorisaki, and Morishita san entered the room with barbecue, pastries, and drinks to celebrate their reunion. The buddyroids could only enjoy the cans of enetron that Kuroki-san had brought.

"For three years of peace and counting!" Kuroki-san raised his half filled frosted glass while the rest copied the gesture with their chosen drinks. They have surely adjusted and enjoyed living in a Vaglass-free normal world.

This time, Usada raised his enetron can, "For Youko's freshman year in the university! There's no need for me to do her homeworks!" Laughs came after except for Youko who shot her glares at Usada. They talked about Youko's experience in the university for a while until Nick raised his enetron can and muttered,

"For Hiromu's successful acceptance in a university overseas! Again!" They clicked their glasses with one another except for Youko who hesitated to raise hers. She pursed her mouth and took a bottle nearby to fill her glass.

"How many years again?" Ryuuji asked, forgetting to mind his sister who was taking more than five shots already.

"Only one and a half" Hiromu answered, with the alcohol kicking in but was still conscious enough to take notice of the seventh shot that passed Youko's lips. On her 8th, Hiromu gripped her wrist, "yamete kudasai."

"yadda" she replied, tossing his hand off hers.

The conversations continued until Kuroki-san called it a day. The place was left spotless as if no party was ever held there. It was past 12 in the midnight but for students and researchers it was still early.

Youko sat cross legged on the off white leather sofa, her right hand massaging her aching temples. She lost count of the drinks she had that night. But she knew that she went too far.

"daijobou?" Hiromu asked.

There was no reply.

He was about to ask it for the second time when he saw her shift, her legs wrapped suddenly in her arms and her head buried on her knees. She trembled from head to foot. Soon, muffled cries were heard.

Hiromu raked a hand to his head. He paced back and forth wondering what to do. He settled to sit beside her, his confidence leaving him. His usual expressionless face was etched with worry and panic. He never understood women, especially this person by his side whom he tried his best to learn the most.

"I don't get you" she said angrily, in between sobs, taking him by surprise, "why must you hurt me again?"

His heart was suddenly in a race by her blatant confession, and it was intensified by the effect of the alcohol. He realized that she still had feelings for him, but whether it was "like" or "love," he never knew. Or it could be "hate," which was the last thing that he wanted to hear from her.

He tried to reach her to pat her head until her phone rang many times. The voicemail played and Jinno Masato was heard. She wiped her tears and breathed heavily, preparing herself to answer his calls.

She stood and took the phone from the kitchen nook, "Hai, Jinno-kun?~"

She never finished her sentence. She was muffled by a pair of hands that pinned her body to the nearest wall. Her mobile phone was released from her hands when Hiromu's mouth was placed on hers on an instant. The grip of his hands on her shoulders was firm but not painful. Even the pressing of his mouth was solid but not imposing.

Soon his hands traveled from her shoulders to her hands. She was not responding, probably still in the state of shock. Though inexperienced, he moved his mouth invitingly. When he clasped his fingers with hers, her mouth was soon moving with him.

And when she realized what she was doing for five minutes, she broke away and slowly sat on the floor, her knees being hugged by her again. Her face was dewed with confusion and new set of tears.

"I hate you" she muttered, a string of emotions playing in her chest.

Hiromu denied hearing this and sat cross legged in front of her. His hands cupped her face and wiped the tears that stayed on her cheeks with his handkerchief. He drew his mouth on hers again not only once but thrice. Sensing that she was not responding, it confused him.

The confusion and lack of response from her made him cry.

"…" He looked at the tears that fell on his lap. He moved his hands from her face to her shoulders. It stayed there, holding her as if afraid of her vanishing from his sight. He bowed his head low in embarrassment.

She was shocked to see him this way. There was too much pain etched in his face. The last time she saw him like this was when he broke his promise to her during the war.

"Why are you crying? You won the bet, remember?." The bitterness in her voice must had come from her realization of letting him take advantage of her exposed feelings. "I hate you," she muttered when there was no response from him.

"Stop." He said at last.

She looked at him, her eyebrows furrowed with bitterness and confusion.

"Stop saying that you hate me. Please." He said softly, as if pleading. His hands never left their place on her shoulders.

"nande?" she asked, her tone and expression softened by the pain on his face.

"I love you. Look only at me. Please."

The first three words. She never expected to hear it.

The pain that she was carrying for a few years ebbed away instantly by those three magical words. She finally understood that he might have loved after she confessed first. Egoistic and proud as he is, confessing without calculated risks was an uncharted territory. Yet, the territory became a fertile ground to grow better as a person. She never regretted confessing to him first, for as Ryuusan said, Hiromu wasn't a stranger. She trusted him with all her life. She even willed to give her life to him during the war. She finally understood that it was an adjustment on his part too, and an effort to consider the risks and circumstances in the transition of their relationship.

For the first time after those awkward moments, she smiled.

"since you won the bet, what's my penalty?" they were at the veranda, both waiting for the sun to rise when she asked these words. Her admission of defeat was another breakthrough and ground for maturation.

He looked at her lovingly, his smile similar with the idol groups that made Youko a fangirl, "please go out with me."