"Kariya! No," she gasped, grip slackening, horror written all over her face. "Don't say anything. Don't you dare."

"Wait–" he began.

"You bastard," she said, voice cracking and tears welling up in her eyes. How dare he–

His eyes finally came to meet hers straight on and they were just as panicked and just as frightened. "You–"

"How could you do this to me!" So many days wasted.

Kariya's hands shot out and gripped her by the shoulders. His eyes were wide and he shook her a little. "Uzuki, listen to me! I'm fine. You're right. I would never do that to you! Don't jump to conclusions."

Relief hit her so fast and so hard, she just couldn't... Breath hitching, her face seemed to collapse into itself and she burst into tears. "Dammit, Kariya," she sobbed and fell into him, curling her fists into his shirt again, but in a completely different way.

Shocked beyond just her behavior from her assumptions, he hesitated to comfort her. He could feel where she was crying against his shirt. It was wet– and her fingers were white... and for once, he seemed absolutely petrified and unable to react.

"You really are a bastard," she continued and unhooked her hand to beat on his chest. That drew him out of his paralysis and he grabbed her wrist firmly, pushing her away. She let go of his shirt and wiped her tears rapidly away. Her face was quickly conforming into anger.

"Uzuki… no. Please. I'm sorry." How many times would he hurt her?

"What is wrong with you?" She tried to pry his hand away from around her wrist. "Why would you let me bel–"

He knew that there was more for her to say. He knew that, and yet he silenced her anyway in the only way he could think to at that very moment.

He kissed her.

Her surprise was evident in how her body reacted. She froze up and couldn't respond until her brain registered that Holy crap. He was kissing her.

Then she couldn't answer in turn anyway– whether with rejection or otherwise– because he pulled back and he was wearing a face she had never seen him have before.

Kariya was perfectly mortified. He even wiped his lips, staring at his fingers like he couldn't quite believe what he had done either. Taking a step back, he gaped, completely wordless. It was not supposed to happen that way.

"What– did you…?" Uzuki mumbled, numb, mind stumbling over the few short seconds.

Could he run? No. He was in his own house, for goodness' sake. What could he do?

Attempting to rearrange his face into something calm and collected and failing miserably, he lifted a hand to cover his eyes, swearing himself in circles.

"What was that?" she finally said, coherently.

He groaned, dropping his hand, face looking like he was suddenly suffering from an intense headache, eyes clenched shut. "I don't know."

"You don't know? What does that even mean?" she demanded loudly.

Miserably he opened his eyes, wincing at her face. "Uzuki–" he began gingerly, delicately.

She silenced him in turn, but without the kissing part. She stared him down, raising a finger and jabbing him painfully in the shoulder. "I thought you were gay."

Floored, he stared back at her, jaw dropped and other expression dropped as well. "Pardon?"

She crossed her arms, looking like she intended to interrogate him. "I could have sworn you were gay."

"W-what?" he spluttered. "Why?"

"You never expressed any interest in other females. In fact, you clearly shunned all of them," she said, confident in her deduction.

"I never expressed any interest in guys either!" he cried.

Uzuki hesitated. "But naturally you wouldn't–"

"I am not gay!"

"There's nothing wrong with being–"

"Uzuki! I'm not gay. I like women! In fact, I love women!" he said, near to shouting, his cool completely lost.

She cocked her head. "Bisexual people do, t–"

"Dammit Uzuki! I'm pretty sure I know my own sexuality!" he exclaimed heatedly.

Finally, she closed her mouth, hands on her hips, eyes narrowed. His vehemence dissolved when he remembered what the true problem was.

"You're kind of a coward, aren't you?"

Again, she left him wordless. She had an amazing ability of having the same effect in so many different ways.

She continued, unsympathetic. "You kissed me, then backed off as soon as you realized what you'd done. If you're gonna kiss me, kiss me. Sweep me off my feet."

He blushed– a remarkable change in features– and looked doubtful at the same time. "Are you–" He awkwardly tapped his fingers on the countertop, shifting uncomfortably, and looked anywhere but her, face continuing to flush a deeper red.

Uzuki waited, wondering what exactly he would do and still feeling the odd, tingling numbness on her lips. He couldn't just… She would not confess herself to him if he made a mistake in the spur of the moment.

He swore quietly, muttering a quick, "Well, this is romantic." before taking a step closer and hoping that he could do just what she had asked of him.

Once she recognized that he was going to, she met him halfway. The kiss was silent and the awkwardness seemed to blow away. His hand moved around her waist, the other just at the nape of her neck as she sealed their lips, fingers hooking around his belt just to get him closer. His lips were warm and his touch was too and it made her heart beat in her throat, thoughts spinning madly and clearing to leave nothing... and this was what she wanted.

But of all things, he pulled away again.

He took a shuddering breath, playing his fingers in her hair before bringing them down to extract her fingers from his belt. His expression had switched again, and there was more of a sharp pain than the passion that she had felt.

For a moment, they just stood there, her thoughts slowly collecting at the injustice and insult, and his a hidden and very panicked whirlpool. But his eyes were bright when he looked up again, and a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth despite the way his eyebrows had knitted together as a sign of some inner torment. "Sorry 'bout that. Want me to walk you home?"

She stood rooted to the spot, all the dredges of feeling from the kiss banishing abruptly and leaving her stunned. "What?"

"It's late," he said, voice unbelievably gentle, and reached down for her hand. She let him take it. "I'll get you home."

And of all the times she would have protested and demanded what the hell was going on, it was because of his expression that she complied.

That kiss meant something so much more to him. She could tell. And he knew it.

So she let him take her home, she heard his soft "Thank you for everything", she watched from her window as he exited the building, and she saw the jolt of a moment where he staggered and brought his hand to his eyes, stopping and breathing. Just breathing slowly, evenly... and then moving on.

He held so many secrets, and so many of them were hers, and she held so little, none being his.

Trust your partner.

She sighed, sat down, closed her eyes, and could almost feel his lips again against hers.