Chapter 28

"Do you think I'm a brat?"

It was a stupid question, and she knew it. She was bundled up in the corner of his bedroom, sitting on the floor next to his bookshelf. He gave her a blanket and tea while Hana recounted her day to him. Hana called her grandfather to let him know that she was at Mori's place, just so he wouldn't worry. The elder grumbled something about him figuring it out when she wasn't home by her usual time.

"No," Takashi answered. Of course she wasn't.

Hana shook her head.

"But you're just… you're biased. You can't just tell me what I want to hear," she took a sip from her cup. Her fingers were finally warming up.

"Did you want to be told you were a brat?" Takashi raised an eyebrow at her. She was being silly. He wondered what caused her to be this way.

Hana pursed her lips. "Well, I guess it wouldn't be the first time I'd be hearing it." Her mother had a point.

She was well aware of her privilege. She was born with a silver spoon in her mouth and Hana could not deny that she was being a brat in some way or another. There weren't many people who had the opportunity to study overseas like she did, nor were there many people with opportunities like her to land a secure job, at her family's company no less. Hana had everything laid out for her.

And she chose to push it all away – in favour of her pride. What did she have to prove, anyway? It was purely out of selfishness. Hana wondered if she was doing the right thing. Would it be defeat if she just accepted her fate?

"Sometimes, I don't know if I am navigating my privilege responsibly."
"How so?" he pried.

Hana shrugged.

"Just… being in the position that I am, and refusing to accept it. I don't have to work a day in my life. I don't have to amount to anything, and yet I still try. My mother told me I was being a brat – how everything was laid out for me and yet, I refuse it all. I can't even deny that it's not true," she explained.

"Then why do you do it?" Takashi bounced off of her ideas. He knew very well why she did what she did. He wondered if she knew it herself.

Hana blinked. Why was she doing it?

"I… work for the company out of honour," It was the reason she kept telling herself. "I know where I stand. I am responsible in upholding the reputation of the Sawada name... because Hiro cannot."

Mori nodded but he wasn't convinced. He knew her well enough that these reasons were superficial. Of course, Hana felt the responsibility of filling in her older brother's position as the next head of the family. It was a sacrifice she chose to make.

"I also do it… to prove that I can do it – it just feels like the world is against me. No matter how hard I try to tread against the current, I'm swept away by the ocean. I'm just tired, Takashi. I don't know how much longer I can tread. I don't know how much longer I can hold up without giving up."

He smiled at her. Hana was a fighter. She was raised to be. Tonight was just her taking a time-out. He knew that she would be back in the ring – even if she didn't think she could go back. Hana was not a quitter. She did not give up. It would weigh too heavily on her conscience to give up.

"You can't," Mori reminded her. "Even if you tried."

Hana let out a long sigh.

"I know. I can't fathom the thought of giving up when I've given too much. But I don't want the company, Takashi. I don't want that responsibility – I just want to… I just want this to end peacefully. Leave the company in good hands with the Sawada name in-tact. Is that too much to ask?"

Takashi could not give her the answer to that.

"The President will never give up the company –his life's work – to some illegitimate daughter. But better the illegitimate daughter than a stranger, I suppose."
"What will you do?"

Hana looked down to her cup of tea.

"If I'm honest – I would have to betray him and sell the company off if it were in my hands."
"And then?"

The girl looked up at the boy who listened intently to her rambling.

"I just want to live simply," Hana confessed. "Like Ojii-san… who lived simply, but happily, you know?"

He nodded. Takashi would also prefer a simple life. He could see her, with him. In a home, not too large, but cozy enough. A dog. He could bring home bouquets for her after work. She would come home too, and they could cook a meal together. He would continue marking essays, while she continued on with her own work. He could imagine them. Together. It made his heart beat faster. His lips turned into a small smirk until he noticed her staring at the wall, in a daze.

"I don't have the energy to play politics my entire life," she admitted. "I'm not smart enough for that. You know who is?"

Takashi perked up.

"Kyouya," Hana answered. "He's… very calculated. I thought I was calculative, but he was quite the planner when we met up earlier this week."

A part of Mori couldn't help but to feel his stomach sink.

"You two met?" He cleared his throat.
"Ah… yes," Hana meant to mention this earlier. "Went over a few clauses for whatever this strange arrangement we have agreed to."
"Arrangement?" He questioned.

Hana knew he had to tell Mori about it eventually. After all, she had mentioned that their families had been talking about marriage since years ago. For a while, it was a quiet agreement until the Ootoris hadn't made a move to solidify the partnership, leaving Hana's mother free to shop around other prospective families. All in all, it was a great move on her mother's part – if she had planned it. Hana had more reason to believe that her mother began considering other prospective families out of desperation. The Ootoris only took it as pressure to begin formulating a solid partnership.

"We only need each other until we both have the company in our hands," Hana explained, actively avoiding his real question. His expression looked solemn before he looked away from her. This was probably the closest to upset she would ever see him and it hurt her to know that she was once again, being selfish about it all.

"It's purely business," Hana reassured.

The man pursed his lips and nodded reluctantly. Hana sighed. This was not what she wanted. She never wanted to hurt Takashi, especially him of all people who became her light in the midst of darkness. She could not forgive herself.

"I'm sorry," was all she could choke out. "I always… I know I am a brat for putting myself first before anyone else."
"Why are you sorry?" he murmured.
"Because you're obviously upset about this whole ordeal," Hana pointed out. He could see the guilt in her eyes before she looked down to her cup of tea.

"I'm not upset," Takashi reassured. "Just…"
"It's not fair," she admitted. "I know it's not fair for me to be with Kyouya, even if it is only for show."
"But I understand," Mori replied. His family was not intertwined with the politics of the upper class but Mori had years of observing his friends and the activities of their families over the years. He was not surprised. She had mentioned this before. This was not news.

But it still made his stomach churn. His heart sink. His body ache. He wished he could put into words why he felt the way he did – but in all honesty, Takashi knew he was unable to compete with Kyouya. He would never be good enough to marry Hana. He was a nobody, after all. Perhaps she deserved better. Perhaps over the years, she would realize that the Ootori had much more to offer. Financial stability, reputation, and approval from the world. It was an inconvenient truth.

Hana put her cup of tea down and reached over to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest, comfortably positioning herself in such a way that she melted into his body. She tried to make him feel better in the only way that she knew how. He welcomed her with open arms, holding her tight. He didn't know how much longer he would have her, after all.

"I'm sorry," was all she could offer. She looked at him with eyes so sincere it made him sigh with guilt. He didn't mean for her to feel this way. "You are everything that I don't deserve but I hold onto you for my dear life. It's not fair that I cannot do the same for you."

Takashi shook his head and wiped away her silent tears and placed strands of her soft hair behind her ear.

"You're more than enough," he told her. "More than I can ask for."
"You can ask for more," Hana choked out. "Ask for a relationship you don't have to hide. Ask for… everything that I wish I could give you."

He shook his head and held her close. "Give me a kiss," he slyly smiled. He tried to make her feel better. Mori seemed to have succeeded when Hana let out an inadvertent chuckle after a second before pecking him on the cheek.

"No, a real one," he murmured into her ear. She shivered at his touch, his hands firmly gripped her waist tighter as he pulled her into him. Hana was quick to cup his face and meet him with her lips, over and over again. His lips curved into a smile each time, letting her take the reigns as she made sure to make her message clear.

Hana wanted to give him everything that she could. She was going to make it work. Hana was determined to come back to him – no matter what. She was his, and she would never let that change as long as he allowed her to be.

"What are you going to do with this house?"

The granddaughter was cooling off from a session of kickboxing on a Saturday morning. She chugged from her water bottle while the old man sat hunched over his knees, taking in the progress Hana had made over the past few weeks.

"What do you mean?" he grumbled.
"Do you want me to deal with your assets or is it taken care of?"

The granddaughter was so casual about it. She took another sip of her water and waited patiently for the man's answer, not even flinching at the gravity of the question. As if she had accepted the fate of his death, the inevitability of his spirit leaving this world didn't even create a falter in her eyes. She stared him down as if she was goading him to try to make her cry.

She was mentally prepared already. It was happening so fast. The elder was taken back.

"It is taken care of," the grandfather answered. "Your fath—the President," he corrected. "This house is his. I have no assets, Hana." All of his savings went towards educating his son. He had nothing to show for except his pride and joy. His children were his proudest achievements.

His granddaughter nodded. "Is there a shrine?" The Morinozukas had a family shrine, given how traditional their family was. They had ties to a shrine outside of Tokyo according to Mori. Hana wondered if her grandfather had frequented a shrine where he wanted the ceremonies to be held.

"Oi, we're poor peasants without shrines – what kind of pretentious asshole do you take me for? I'm not like Morinozu—"
"—Okay, Ojii-san," Hana rolled her eyes. "I'm just checking."

The pair packed up and went on about their day. It was a regular afternoon. Hana was busy working on her laptop while the elder was busy cooking. He liked the regular routine in his life. It gave him a sense of purpose and peace. His routine was broken when he lost grip on a hot pot which caused a commotion in the kitchen, prompting Hana to quickly slide open the door.

The granddaughter looked at the scene. Spilled stew all over the kitchen, her grandfather fuming at himself for being so careless.

"Get out of the kitchen," Hana ordered.
"No," the grandfather refused. "The stupid—"
"Another word and I'm going to call the ambulance. You better fucking hope the burns on your feet are not serious."

She quickly lent her shoulder in support and carried him over to the living room. His feet were red and he was obviously in pain from the boiling stew that had spilled all over his legs. Hana silently tended her grandfather's wounds, not saying a word about the accident. She was not here to lecture him.

But he almost wished that she would so at the very least, Hana would let the incident go. It did not seem like his granddaughter would bury the fact that he was no longer fit to take care of her.

"You know what I'm about to say," Hana's voice was firm as she applied an ice cold towel to the burn. "Don't fucking argue with me. You lost your chance at proving yourself to be fit. These dangerous things can't keep happening – especially when I'm not home."

The elder could only sigh and stay silent. He could not argue because he knew he wouldn't be able to win.

"I don't know what I'm going to do with you," she gritted her teeth. "I don't know what the President would think of this – but his solution would be assisted living."
"No," the elder refused. "I'm not some—"
"I know," Hana cut him off. "I'm not letting that happen to you." Her grandfather's independence was important to him. There was no point in having him live in misery.

"So what do you want?"
"Let's go to the doctor," Hana was not pleading this time. This was going to happen on her watch. "If these tremors and issues with your limbs can go away with medication, or some kind of rehabilitation: we'll do it."
"But—"
"—I don't care if you don't want to," his granddaughter wasn't having it. "It's either this, or you're placed in a nursing home so we don't have to take care of you. Take care of yourself while you still can, Ojii-san."

The elder grumbled something under his breath before agreeing to her conditions.

When Hana was called up to the President's office, she thought it was going to be about the Ootori. It made perfect sense in her head, the meeting had to be some sort of nod of approval from the President in her involvement with the Ootori.

It wasn't.

"What sort of fool do you take me for?" the President roared. "You think you could hide the fact that he's relapsed?"

"What?" was all the daughter could reply with.

"You took him to the doctor last week for a hand tremor and lost sensation in his limbs. What made you think I wouldn't know about the conditions of my own father?"

Hana stood there in shock. The doctors had to be bound by some kind of confidentiality agreement, leaking patient files and their conditions was illegal.

"I…" Hana gulped. She had no excuse. She was after all, keeping Ojii-san's health a secret for the past month. "I was trying to do the right thing."

"Right thing? You can't do anything right. You couldn't even stand and look pretty for a living – you had to meddle with our finances and make our lives troublesome. Now you're dragging in my father into all of this – have you no shame? Have you not taken enough away from this family?"

She was speechless.

"Ojii-san –" Hana tried explaining but nothing would come out of her throat. How could she argue against the man who was his biological son? Hana had no right to keep the secret. The guilt that weighed on her chest was crushing her soul.

"Ojii-san? He was never your grandfather."

He was never your grandfather.

The President had never seen the child so helpless. She didn't fight back. For once, it seemed like she knew her place. Her large doe eyes looked down towards the ground, her head hung heavy on her shoulders as she gathered her wits. For some reason, it gave him no pleasure to see her so defeated. She was usually headstrong, with her pride overflowing the room. Today, she was meek and helpless.

"You never call him," she whispered. Hana forced herself to look up. She didn't know how long her body could fight off the physiological effects of her heavy heart. Hana couldn't let herself cry.

"You never… really understood him," she murmured. "You never got the chance, hey? Maybe today's the day." Hana smiled weakly.

She bowed deeply before quietly taking her leave.

He could tell that her mind was elsewhere. It did him no good. He was aware of how dysfunctional the Sawadas were, but what family of the upper class wasn't dysfunctional? Everyone had their own fair share of mistresses, illegitimate children, and dirty laundry. The Sawadas of course, were untainted by any sort of scandal to the public which made them a solid candidate so far.

Hana stood beside him and smiled like she was trained to do. They made their first official appearance together at a charity banquet for Alzheimer's, piquing the interest of their communities. The youngsters agreed to allow the upper class to come to their own conclusions about the two.

The Ootori observed how she elegantly handled herself with guests and alike. She was well versed in a great range of topics, from fashion to the politics of the west. Her speciality of course, was finance and the markets. She was tactful enough to impress business associates but always clever to never reveal too much of her strategies. After all, she knew that the Ootori would take them for himself. She couldn't have that.

All in all, Hana was an impressive character.

It was just… too impressive. Too well-rehearsed. She wore a mask like he did with strangers. But she was Hiro's little sister at the end of the day. Hana was good-natured. She was genuine. Warm. Adventurous. She was still the same as she was years ago, but only to those she believed deserved to be shown her true nature. Hana only grew to be more cautious, more weary of the politics in the upper class.

Kyouya knew something was off when Hana was in a daze. They had just finished speaking with a group of upcoming tech executives. The woman was usually quick to scan around the room, getting ready to take on more people to mingle.

"You're off your game today, Hana," Kyouya quietly commented. "Is there something wrong?"

She looked up at him, trying to read his expression of concern. Was it genuine or was he trying to gauge for weaknesses to blackmail her? The paranoia she fostered was unhealthy and she knew it. This was exactly why she hated playing politics. She only exhaled and replied with a weak smile.

"Apologies," Hana nodded her head as a form of respect and had no excuse. She just wanted to get through the day. The pair continued on with their appearance for the night, garnering the approval of the elders who felt that the two were a good fit.

"I asked you a question," the Ootori was a persistent one. The two waited in the cold night for their respective chauffeurs. If this was the Ootori's way of making small talk, Hana wasn't particularly impressed.

"Excuse me?" Hana tried to stay polite.
"Is there something wrong?" Kyouya asked again.

The woman raised an eyebrow, confused as to why the Ootori would bother to care. They were business associates. Maybe acquaintances at best.

"I can't tell what your intentions are," she was honest.

The Ootori shrugged. The woman had a fair point. Had Hana asked him what was wrong, it would have been deemed normal given her true nature. For him, well. Kyouya was well-aware of his manipulative and scheming ways. It was suspicious and he couldn't blame her for playing it smart. In fact, it earned her a little more respect.

"I'm asking as… an old friend," Kyouya was unsure how to describe himself. He was trying to do his duty to Hiro by looking out for his little sister. Perhaps that was how he viewed her after all these years. Nothing more than a younger sibling of some sort.

Hana chuckled to herself.

"I appreciate you asking," her voice was warm, her words were genuine. This was the Hana that he remembered from Ouran. "Sometimes I forget that you're… an old friend."

The Ootori took off his jacket and wrapped it around the shoulders of Hana to keep her warm from the chilly air. A gentlemanly thing to do, of course.

"You know I'm… I'm with Takashi, right?" Hana just wanted to make sure. Of course, there were other things on her mind. Kyouya raised an eyebrow. It had to take an idiot to not realize that the two were a sure thing. The pair made themselves quite obvious, even years ago at the cottage in the mountains.

Hana easily read the expression on the Ootori's face. She nodded to herself.

"I just… feel guilty," Hana admitted. "Takashi shouldn't feel like he's… nonexistent to the rest of the world. Everything we do to keep face is rather excessive, don't you think? But there is no other logical solution – we all have goals to achieve. You and I are merely tools to each other in the grand scheme of things."

The Ootori nodded, though he did not feel the same kind of guilt she did in playing the game of politics. He was willing to do anything to achieve his ambitions. Hana on the other hand, only did it to survive. That was where they differed.

"No hard feelings, hey?" Hana smiled. The Ootori shook his head. They were on good terms, business-wise and on a personal level. "I only worry about Takashi," she confessed. "I don't think he… quite understands what we have to do – but he tries his very best."

Kyouya nodded. Hana's chauffeur came and he bid her farewell. It was another successful appearance by the young couple at an event. Hana could only wonder when this would end. She was tired of the lies and the façade she had to keep up. Her status grew greater and greater at the expense of her freedom and her sanity.

Hana came home late after the event. She tried her best in sliding the doors as quietly as she could, carrying her heels so that her bare feet would make no noise at each step she took.

"Oi," the grandfather caught her red handed. Hana didn't know why she felt so guilty. She was a full grown adult who didn't have a curfew to follow.

"It's been a long day, Ojii-san," Hana grumbled. The elder rolled his eyes and let the child wash up before lecturing her. The granddaughter braced herself for a long 20 minute lecture about getting enough rest and coming home early but instead, she sat down on the tatami mat with her half-dried hair to a question she did not expect.

"Did you ask him to call me?" her grandfather asked.

Hana replayed the scene in her head from the afternoon. She had been so distracted by the event that she forgot about what had been weighing the most heavily on her chest the whole day.

He was never your grandfather.

"Yeah," she confessed. "He… seems to know about it all even though I said nothing about it."

The elder nodded. "He wants me to do go through hell and back again."
"As we all do," the granddaughter shrugged. "But… we understand if you don't."

Her grandfather sighed. "Everyone wants me to keep on living – but I am living. I'm getting by each day the way I want to. Is this so wrong?"
"No," Hana reassured. "I just want you to be happy."
"And I am happy. Why doesn't my son understand that?" he huffed. "I just want to keep living simply."

The granddaughter smiled. "Tell him that."
"I did."
"Tell him again. Over and over again. Tell him how proud you are of him. Tell him that you have everything you ever wanted or needed. Tell him how you feel, Ojii-san. He won't understand you otherwise."
"How would you know?" the elder grumbled. "Us Sawadas are stubborn creatures."
"Wear him down," she shrugged. "How else?"

The old man had enough on his plate and Hana did not have the heart to tell her grandfather that at the end of the day, she was never meant to be his granddaughter.

She liked spending time at his place. There was something very peaceful about the Morinozuka residence. It was of course, much larger than that of her grandfather's. The past few weeks had the old friends apart due to her grandfather's injuries and medical appointments. Today was the first time the elders had seen each other in two weeks. Of course, to many, it was hardly any time apart.

But sure enough, the two elders began grumbling about not seeing their old friend and as soon as they met again, they began bickering. It was their own way of staying close, it seemed. Arguing over the smallest things like which kind of apple is better or which miso paste was the best to use while cooking.

The grandchildren left their grandparents alone while they carried on with their own activities. Hana was in no mood to work. It was unusual of her, Takashi noted. She was usually very hardworking, staying on top of things but today seemed like a spontaneous decision for her to take off the day.

Hana rested her head against his shoulder while he marked essays and read along with him. She was careful not to disturb him, knowing that he was in deep concentration. Hana provided a source of warmth by his side, her soft hair prickling his neck every so often when she adjusted her position.

"Nihilism… it's depressing, isn't it?" Hana murmured. The two had just finished reading a student's essay on the meaning of life. It argued strongly for the thought of nihilism, wherein there was no meaning to life to begin with and that all that was done to survive was meaningless.

Mori shrugged. "There are other perspectives to the meaning of life," he suggested. The other few essays dealt with the Enlightenment philosophy, or theism. There was no correct answer to such questions.

"Do you believe in it?" Hana was curious to hear about his thought on the meaning of life.

The man shrugged. "It's not wrong."
"Yeah, but none of these perspectives can truly be proven wrong. Do you think everything we do is meaningless?"

"Well," Takashi turned the question back to her. "Do you?"

Hana blinked. "Sometimes," she confessed. "I just feel… I'm not working towards anything. What's the point of it all? Why am do I bother being entangled with all of this complexity that is my life? It doesn't seem worth the trouble. The outcome is the same: I lose."

Takashi raised an eyebrow at her. "What do you lose, Hana?"

The woman shrugged, staring at the ground. "I just… lose at everything. Happiness feels unattainable – it's only a… a fleeting moment in time."
"Perhaps that is the meaning of life," his voice was soothing to listen to, his thoughts had always kept her on her toes. Hana looked up at him in confusion.

"Chasing happiness is the motivation to keep living," Takashi explained. "Or… that is what some philosophers believed."

"What about you?" Hana asked.

Takashi put away the pile of essays on his lap and his marking pen aside. Hana took this as an invitation to snuggle closer to him. She nestled herself in the crook of his neck. Mori smiled as she relaxed into his body. She felt safe. She trusted him. Hana gave herself to him and nobody else. How could he not smile at this feeling?

"I believe a practical understanding of life is more useful than that of an abstract idea."
"Like what?" she murmured into his chest. She had her eyes closed. Hana just wanted to forget about reality. She could use some food for thought.

"Each individual has their own meaning of life – whether there is none to begin with is a personal opinion. But what is the purpose of our existence as whole, as a species? How did we come to be?"
"Science can explain that," Hana mumbled. "Evolution over time to produce the human species."
"Exactly," Takashi pointed out. "Much more useful, isn't it?"

Hana nodded in understanding. "So… everything else is a waste of time?"

Takashi shrugged. "Philosophy is subjective."

She shifted closer to him and sighed. "Life is… hard."
"Mmhm," he agreed. He held her in his arms, his hands drawing fleeting patterns on her back. He kissed the top of her head. She always smelled like jasmine flowers and he couldn't help but to inhale her scent.

"But it… it serves a purpose, no? It must. It may seem meaningless but – goodness, I can't stop living now. Ojii-san made it this far, how could I stop?"
"Did you want to stop?" he pried further.
"No," Hana shook her head. "I just wanted to freeze time. I just want to live without feeling like I'm being suffocated by reality. People say that all will pass, but when? When does the struggle end? Will it ever end?"

Mori chuckled to himself. "These are deep questions, Hana. I can't give you the answers."
"I'm sorry, I'm just… I shouldn't be complaining. I have a steady job, food to eat, and a roof over my head. But sometimes… sometimes I fantasize about having a simpler life."
"Like what?" Takashi whispered.

She shook her head and brushed off the thought. "It's silly."
"No, it's not." His deep voice rang through her ears. He never demanded to know, but Takashi just had that sort of mesmerizing power over her. He was trustworthy. Hana never doubted that.

"A cozy home," Hana whispered. "Flowers on the kitchen table. A dog to feed and walk. A small garden to take care of in the summers. A meaningful job. A quiet life. No media. No politics to have to play. Nothing but you and I."

Takashi nodded in understanding. He wanted that too. The look on her face explained it all. She knew she was the barrier to it all. Hana was ridden with guilt.

"It's not your fault," he told her. "You're doing what you have to do."
"And you're waiting for me like…" she cut herself off before looking away, sighing instead.
"An idiot?" Takashi tried to brighten up the mood. The woman quickly shook her head, suddenly regretting letting him fill in the blank.

"I just… I would understand if you're tired of me," Hana whispered.
"Never," he assured her. He looked her right in the eye, making sure that she knew that his loyalty was unwavering. He slowly closed the gap between them, his hands moving up to caress her neck.

Hana pulled away.

"You know I don't deserve you, right?" she smiled weakly.
"I don't deserve you," he admitted.

She laughed. "But you're here anyway? Did you think I was settling for you?"
"Maybe," he shrugged. In all honesty, he didn't want to question it more than he already had. How he managed to land someone as wonderful as she was wasn't up to him to explain. It just happened.

"Do you think Ojii-san would have taught me to settle for second best, Takashi?" Hana reminded him.
The man smirked and shook his head. The woman had a point.

The woman toughened up. Her eyes shifted from being guilt ridden to being fiercely determined.

"I'll fight for you – for us," Hana declared. "I just need you—"
"—To stay," Takashi finished off her sentence.

She smiled, for real this time. Hana swooped up to his lips and pushed him against his bookshelf. Hana made her message loud and clear. She was here to win against this game of life, and he was here to stay. Takashi was quick to retaliate, keeping her in his arms as he leaned forward to push her down to the ground. She laughed beneath him. Perhaps they would never stop fighting, even off the mat.

"You're not a brat," Takashi reminded her. He had her locked between his body and the ground. He made sure she was listening. Hana looked up at him intently.

"You are considerate and kinder than you believe. You are intelligent and pragmatic. You are capable and incredibly hardworking. You are everything you strive to be, Hana."

She smiled and pulled him down for another kiss to thank him, her fingers being caught in his already messy hair.

He was always going to be her light in the darkness. He always had been.

"You mean so much to me," Hana told him. "I often feel like… I'm not meant to be where I am. I was never meant to be a model or an heiress. But I… I'm meant to be with you. Always, you. You're my best friend. I could never forget you, even if I tried. You're my sun. I'll always orbit back to you."

He smiled back at her and pulled her up from the floor. She shook her head and smirked. Hana was quick to tug on his arm. The heated floors were rather comfy.

"You're my sun," Takashi pointed out, laying the floor beside her. She had her head comfortably on her folded arm, looking at him. "I made that analogy first." He had a grin on his face. Hana giggled and surrendered. God, he missed hearing her laugh. Something about seeing her smile made his heart skip a beat. It was embarrassing at how juvenile she made him feel.

"Okay," she agreed. "Then you can be…" Hana rolled over onto her back, thinking of a better metaphor to describe Takashi. She frowned at her lack of ideas and looked over at him.

"What do you want to be?"
"I don't know," He answered honestly. What was he supposed to be?

"The moon, then?" Hana thought to herself. "You're always there. You never leave your orbit. You provide light in the darkest of the night."
"I do?" Takashi didn't seem to think he played that large of a role in her life.
"Of course," Hana smiled. "I love you." The phrase rolled off her tongue so naturally. Hana didn't feel flustered this time. She wasn't afraid of what he thought of her this time around. He should have known by now.

It was just hard to believe. Takashi let the words ring in his ears. She scooted closer to him, embracing him to reassure that she chose him of all people.

A/N: And... another trip has been made around the sun - I hope you all have a wonderful New Year. Thoughts are always appreciated.