Chapter 38

They found themselves wandering the streets. Moving to a new city, hand in hand, they explored with excitement. He let her lead the way, always. He would trail behind her, ever so slightly as she held onto his hand.

Hana tilted her head at the omamoris that lined the cobble streets. Vendors lined the path on their way to the temple. Her fingers reached to touch them. It reminded her of her grandfather.

Takashi watched as she looked at the good luck charms with nostalgia. They decided to head over to the local temple on the weekend for no particular reason other than to explore. Hana and Takashi did not pay too much attention to Shinto traditions, except when their families did.

But he knew, that somehow, she took comfort in the temple. He gave a gentle tug. Hana looked back at him and smiled. The omamoris could wait.

Hana led him the way, careful not to step in the middle of the path. Everyone steered clear of the middle, allowing the spirits to walk between them. It was a silly thing, she used to think. How everyone just gathered towards the edge of the sidewalk, it must have been groupthink. But the older she became, the less cynical she felt towards these Shinto practices.

The smell of incense guided their way towards the stone stairs.

"I don't know how Ojii-san managed to trek these heights. Especially with his bad knee," she sighed.

"He didn't come to Kyoto, did he?"

"He used to. Before he settled on a closer temple to Tokyo," Hana answered. "I remember coming here when I was very young. Maybe when I was 6. It was a day after we sparred," she hummed. "I had a big bruise on my arm. He asked Kami-sama to make me strong in will, and in health."

"That he did," Takashi softly agreed, squeezing her hand.

She sighed. "It wasn't Kami-sama, or any kind of deity that made me strong-willed. It was Ojii-san himself."

"He can't take all the credit," Mori smiled.

"Yeah," Hana chuckled. "I'll take the rest of the credit."

He pulled her closer to him, his lips pressing against her temple before he whispered a warning in her ear.

"Don't let the spirits hear that."

Hana frowned. Spirits be damned, she thought.

"Don't even think it," Takashi raised an eyebrow at her. She rolled her eyes before tripping on a step. Takashi was quick to catch her by the waist, his strong hands helping her regain her balance.

"Told you," he whispered with a grin. "They know."

Hana groaned to herself and pressed on. Takashi kept his hand on the small of her back, guiding her up the stairs and into the temple. The warmth of his hand was dearly missed when they reached the top and she looked up at him with her large doe eyes.

His heart skipped a beat.

He put his hand back, keeping her close to him by the waist with a small smile. She leaned into him. They leisurely paced around the temple, stopping by to read the ema. Hana smiled at the prayers.

"I wonder what Ojii-sama wrote, if he wrote any."

"Do you want to write anything?" Takashi pointed to the blank wooden blocks. People scrawled their wishes and desires before hanging them with the hundreds of others that hung on the wall.

To get into my dream school.

A promotion at work.

Good health for my grandmother.

A healthy birth of our baby.

She shook her head, eyeing a couple of prayers.

"I carve my own fate," she murmured. Strong-headed, as usual. "As I always have."

Takashi chuckled. "Alright. If you say so." He grabbed a brush pen and leaned over to write something on the wooden block.

"Huh? What are you doing, Takashi?" Hana watched as he carefully wrote his own wish.

Happiness. Good health. Family.

He was a simple man.

Hana couldn't help but to smile.

"I'll do my best to give you all those things," she murmured.

"See? It works," he grinned. "Kami-sama does wonders, don't you think?"

She playfully punched him in the shoulder. "Fine," Hana huffed. She grabbed a smooth wooden block herself and wrote her own wish.

Peace.

"Peace?" he read quietly.

"Yes," Hana responded. "Peace."

"Hm," Takashi nodded.

The two made their way around the temple, taking in every small corner and stopping to admire the view.

"Why?" he asked after some time had passed. Hana could tell that he had been thinking about it for much longer than he let on. He took her hand, in a means of comfort. Hana smiled. That was all she did around him these days. He looked down at her with concern, the sunlight seeping through the bamboo trees illuminated his figure.

Hana shrugged.

"I... have this unsettling feeling." She couldn't explain it very well. Hana never quite voiced what she felt – not very well, anyway. "Not about you," she quickly clarified. "Just… I don't know why I feel the way I do."

He nodded. "Anxious?"

"Yeah, I… I guess. Not sure about what," the woman mumbled.

Takashi let her ponder for a while, eventually leading them back to the subway station. Hana liked being with him, never minding the silence that came with the gentle giant. It was his company that made her heart feel at ease, even if it was just temporary. He was always patient with her. Never lost his cool. To her, he always seemed like he was in a relaxed state. A sort of energy that counteracted her own.

"Your mother," he said.

"Hm?" Hana looked up at him, in confusion.

"Your mother unsettles you."

Hana blinked.

"You… aren't wrong," she slowly replied. "But she's hardly ever on my mind."

"Sawada-san," Takashi offered.

He was met with silence. It took her a moment to find the words after she processed the feelings.

"It doesn't hurt," she softly answered. "To think about, I mean." Her eyes did not well up with tears, as they had before. The pang in her chest had softened to a blunt force instead of a sharp stab. "Even visiting the temple was… well – very reminiscent of him. A nice feeling of nostalgia."

She leaned onto his shoulder naturally, without any thought. He welcomed her, bringing her close and pressing a kiss on top of her head. The subway station was nearly empty, only their whispers that echoed into the tunnel like murmurs.

Their train ride was silent, their thoughts effortlessly pacing through their minds in place of talking. Mori wondered what made Hana feel unsettled. Something within him made him feel anxious, or bothered. Helpless, even. She squeezed his hand in reassurance, sensing his tension. Her eyes were bright as she smiled up at him.

Just like the sun. She lit up his world. The bubbling feeling of anxiety simmered away. It was her way of telling him that she was fine. He stood and took her hand with him as they got off the stop.

"I'm okay," she told him, after finding their way back to a quiet street. "Are you?"

Takashi nodded. "Just… tell me if something is bothering you."

"Only if you do the same," Hana smiled up at him.

He still had a look of concern on his face.

"I love you," she reminded. Hana watched as his eyes melted, a small smile creeping up his face.

His heart skipped a beat before his shoulders relaxed. She brought him peace, comfort, and everything more that he did not deserve. Hana had no clue what he was thinking, but whatever it was – she tugged him closer to her, wrapping her arms around his torso to tell him that she felt the same.

As if to say, me too.

It was not her first time sitting through a pitch with other venture capitalists. Hana settled in her seat at the board room, taking note of her prim nails. A coat of clear polish, her fingers free of any jewelry. A simple bracelet adorned her bony wrist. Takashi had come home one day and placed it on the counter wordlessly.

"What is this for?" She only noticed the box after she had finished cooking their dinner. Hana could feel Kaina's fur graze against her legs. The dog assumed it had to be food and was suddenly interested.

He smiled at her. No reason. He just thought it would look nice. It was a simple chain of gold, with charms of the sun, moon, and crystal stars that hung off of it.

"It's beautiful." She picked up the box delicately, not daring to touch the piece. It was crafted with such care. Hana could tell it was made of pure gold, the softness of the lustre as it glittered in the sunlight had given that away.

Takashi gently took the box away from her, his large hands carefully scooped up the bracelet to place it on her right wrist.

"I'm never taking this off, you know that right?"

He laughed.

Hana was interrupted by a deep voice. This meeting was for a start-up of a jewelry company, specializing in lab-grown diamonds and other gems instead of mining from the earth.

"That," they pointed to her wrist. "Very pretty."

The woman smiled and thanked the man politely before taking a sip of her coffee. She nodded and did not pay too much attention to the investor beside her, not even taking note of the broken Japanese.

"I…," the man paused, trying to find the words. Hana put her cup down and glanced at the person who had struck up a conversation with her. He must have been in his 60s, square-framed glasses perched at the bridge of his nose. His hair had greyed. The features of his face had given him away as European of some sort.

"Go on," Hana switched over to English. A universal language.

"Oh thank goodness," the man was relieved. He had a slight French accent. "My translator just stepped out to the washroom between the pitches."

The young woman smiled politely. "You were saying?" Her own British accent had peeked through. Even while studying in America, she couldn't quite get rid of the accent she had been taught in. It was only until studying in London where she finally felt like her English had been somewhat normal.

"I own the company who designed your bracelet," he explained. "You have good taste."

She smiled. "It was given by…" Hana paused. Boyfriend didn't quite explain how much he meant to her. Fiancé was not right, either.

"Ton amour?" the fashion mogul suggested.

"Sure," Hana settled on that. "He does have good taste," she agreed.

A comfortable silence settled between the two.

"Jacques Laroux," he held a hand out to introduce himself.

"Marielle Sawada," Hana introduced herself as she would if she were overseas. She gave him a firm handshake. A simple search of Marielle Sawada did not garner the same kind of results as Hana Sawada did.

"Marielle," he murmured. "A beautiful name. Who gave you that?"

"My mother, I suppose," Hana softly answered. "Not sure where the name came from, honestly."

Hana glanced at the businessman who looked at her with such fascination. She could only smile back politely. The meeting was concluded after an hour, to which Hana gathered her notebook and laptop into her bag and headed out wordlessly to the elevators. A tap on the shoulder got her attention.

"Marielle," Jacques greeted. "Would you be free to discuss your thoughts on the companies we saw today? Some of the presentations got lost in translation… literally."

Hana looked down at her phone for the time. "I have a train to Kyoto I have to catch…"

"Oh," his eyes settled down to the ground with disappointment. "Well, of course. I won't keep you."

Hana exhaled. "I can spare about an hour," she offered. "We can head to a café near the train station, if that's alright with you."

"Of course!" The French man nodded.

Hana led the businessman to a café she frequented before boarding the train, usually to get some last minute work done, or to respond to the emails in her inbox. She settled across from him, taking in the quaint atmosphere of the café. It was the middle of the afternoon, just past the lunch hour.

"Why Tokyo?" Hana asked as she sipped on her tea. "The language barrier seems like quite the hassle."

"It is such a vibrant capital of fashion! Such a shame not to see what is up and coming in this corner of the industry," Jacques explained. "I am here a few times a year."

"Fashion Week?" Hana raised an eyebrow.

"Ah yes, of course – whenever I can make it."

Hana nodded. She remembered characters like him – a passion for the industry in all things beautiful. Beautiful people in beautiful clothing. Designer brands that set the trends for the year, no matter how avant-garde. People like him regarded everything to do with fashion as a form of art, an expression of life and death, and all things in between.

Hana could not relate. She was just a human mannequin, after all – thrust into the world of modelling at a young age. It felt like ages ago now.

"That dress is Yves Saint Laurent, isn't it?"

Hana nodded curtly.

"From many seasons ago," Jacques clarified. "The navy is a good colour on you, Marielle."

"So I've been told," she responded. "Were there any business plans that you had questions about?" Hana got back on topic with the purpose of their coffee chat.

Jacques shuffled uncomfortably. "Ah, yes… that."

Hana raised an eyebrow.

"Were you always interested in the fashion industry?" Jacques pivoted.

"No," her answer was short. "I was only there for the jewelry company. Lab-grown diamonds seem like a good way to save the environment. I am interested in sustainability."

"Ah, your sense of style is… sophisticated," he noted. "You seem well-versed in fashion."

"I try."

"You have a good bone structure for modelling," Jacques observed.

Hana pursed her lips. "Perhaps – but I am not interested," she brushed off. "Which companies were you interested in investing?"

Jacques went on a tangent about his own fashion endeavours. Hana listened patiently, nodding along the way. It was strange, being immersed in this world again – familiar waves of nostalgia brought her back to her teenage years.

"You seem bored," the businessman chuckled.

"Oh," Hana was brought back from her daze. "I apologize. It has been a long day." It was a flimsy excuse at best. She brushed a loose strand of hair to the back of her ear, her ponytail coming loose. The small bracelet dangled along with her wrist.

"The bracelet is a limited edition," Jacques explained.

"Ah," Hana nodded. It always brought a smile on her face when she looked at it. "I didn't know that."

"Must be quite special to you," the businessman watched as she smiled at the piece of jewelry.

"Yes. The man who gave it to me is very special," her eyes softened. "He's wonderful in every way."

"And you're happy?"

Hana smiled and nodded. "Very much so."

"I'm glad to hear that, Marielle," he smiled. There was a longing in his voice. A twinge of something bittersweet.

Hana blinked. There was something odd about the man that she couldn't pinpoint.

"Why?"

"Hm?" the man raised an eyebrow.

"Forgive me for asking," Hana stayed polite. "I just can't help but to… feel as though your intentions are not entirely for business."

Jacques looked at the young woman with an expression of embarrassment. "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable, mademoiselle—"

"I know," Hana reassured. "I didn't feel uncomfortable at all. I can't seem to read you, is all."

"I should leave," Jacques became flustered. "I didn't mean to keep you this long while you had a train to catch."

"It's fine, really," Hana didn't mean for the fashion mogul to suddenly get up. "I also did not mean to offend."

"You didn't, no," he shook his head. "Not at all. I—" he took a breath. "It was wonderful meeting you, Marielle – truly."

"Truly?" Hana blinked. It seemed like a strong word. "Um, well. You too." She held out a hand, like any business dealing. He took it delicately, gripping the tips of her fingers as he stood.

"I… I hope to see you again."

Hana couldn't guarantee that but she nodded anyway.

"Something is bothering me."

Mori looked towards his left. Hana had her arms crossed, staring straight ahead at the TV that had the news on. She was still in her running gear, hair tied up in a messy bun, a grey tank top to pair with her black running shorts. Hana had gone for a run with the dog while Mori did the dishes and took out the garbage.

"Bother isn't the right word," she thought out loud. "It was… an odd encounter, really." It was over a week ago, now.

"Odd," Takashi repeated.

"Yes. I met this… French fashion designer who was interested in the same company as I was. He asked to discuss my opinions on the companies we had seen but the conversation took to an abrupt end when I called him out on beating around the bush," Hana huffed. "I thought I was being polite but – I don't know. He insisted that he wasn't offended. Something just seemed odd."

Takashi tilted his head. "Will you ever see him again?"

"Probably not," Hana shrugged. "Unless he's also going to be investing in that diamond company. But he is the designer who owns the company that you bought the bracelet from."

Mori put the pieces together. "Ah. Tamaki's Uncle."

"Uncle?" Hana's eyes widened. What a surprise it was.

"First cousin once removed," he specified. "Tamaki calls him Uncle."

Hana nodded. "I see. Is that how you got this limited edition?" she grinned.

Mori shrugged. "I thought of you when I saw it and called Tamaki. It was at my office the next day."

"Truly nice to have good friends," she hummed. "Perhaps Jacques knew me beforehand through Tamaki. I wonder why he didn't just tell me."

"Too star struck by a former model, maybe?" Takashi smiled.

Hana playfully shoved him over to the other side of the couch.

"It's always so embarrassing to be known as a teen model," Hana groaned.

His office always assumed that he was married. The first time it happened, Mori stood there dumbstruck at the word wife.

"Your wife came by and dropped off the assignments you forgot on the kitchen table." He came back from a faculty meeting to have his neighbouring office mate, a history professor, popping into his doorway to tell him. He nodded dumbly, accepting the title.

"Was that your wife who came by? She brought the office the most delicious bakery bread and pastries. Oh. Also, she said that you left your phone at home. It's on your desk." Takashi had just come back from a morning lecture, he had to rush out of the house because Kaina had been rather fussy in the morning about relieving herself during his morning run. Mori only nodded. There was something about that word that made him feel warm inside.

"Your wife is a gem. Ran into her in the elevator when she dropped off your lunch. What does she do for a living?" Takashi was now sitting at the graduate lounge, eating his lunch quietly before the associate economics professor had plopped himself down with him. He made no move to correct that she wasn't actually his wife. He just wanted to eat his lunch in peace.

Takashi chewed slowly and cleared his throat. "Venture capitalist." Or at least, he was pretty sure that's what she did.

"Amazing!" his colleague exclaimed. "How did you two meet?"

"Childhood friends," he answered.

"She's so pretty! And she looks so similar to someone, I can't quite pinpoint who…" A graduate student piped up. She was studying under the economics professor.

"Did you two go to school together?" This time, it was the neighbouring history professor. An elder woman, likely in her late 50s. Her son was similar in age to Takashi.

Takashi shook his head.

"But you two reconnected somehow?"

"I went to high school with her brother."

"Ouran? Wow – you went to school with the rich and famous!"

Mori only shrugged and chewed on his rice. He peered into his bag to see that Hana had packed him peeled slices of pear. Takashi smiled to himself – he looked forward to the small things.

"Anyone we might know? What were you? Class of…" The economics professor immediately began to search on his phone. A few minutes later of scrolling through the alumni page, he came across a few well-known people.

"Do you know Kyouya Ootori?"

He nodded. They all stared in awe.

"The Hitachiin Twins? Of the Hitachiin Fashion corp?"

Another nod. The Economics professor was flabbergasted. They were just once removed from being connected to the rich and famous.

"Hiro Sawada?"

The graduate student piped up. "Hiro Sawada? EDM artist? I used to listen to his music! What's he up to now?"

"Who?" the history professor did not recognize that name. It must have been someone famous to the youngsters.

"Julliard," the Economics professor answered. "Oh! He has a siste—"

The man paused. He squinted his eyes. Zoomed into the photo. He looked up at Takashi, and back down to his screen. Takashi watched as the realization dawned upon him.

"I was… in the elevator… with… Hana Sawada?!"

"Hana Sawada? The model turned heiress?" his graduate student gasped.

"Venture capitalist now," Takashi corrected as he ate a piece of pear.

"You're married to Hana Sawada?!"

Takashi raised an eyebrow.

"I can't believe you've been sitting on this fact for the whole summer."

The history professor only laughed at the whole ordeal. She didn't understand the level of fame that these people had garnered. It was too far of a generation gap. But regardless, she too, had met the wife in question. "She is a lovely woman, Morinozuka-san."

Takashi nodded in agreement. More than lovely.

"She's so pretty," the grad student whined. "And so nice! I can't believe I talked to her for a whole 30 seconds!"

"How did you manage to get a girl like that?"

Takashi wished that he knew how. He only grinned.

Hana wasn't sure why everyone just came to the assumption that she was Takashi's wife.

It began with the elder history professor, a woman in her late fifties that ran into her when Hana tried to quietly drop off the assignments Takashi left on the kitchen table. He was in a rush to get out the door and Hana remembered that he needed to get the assignments back to the students before the promised deadline.

"Are you looking for Professor Morinozuka?"

Hana had been to his office before, but she was always lucky to slip through the cracks without anyone knowing she was around. This time, Hana was going to slip the assignments through the gap of his office door and hopefully he'd see it when he opened his office door.

Hana was crouched to the ground as she looked up at the woman who had a motherly presence. She held a hand out to Hana, bringing her upright.

"He forgot some marked assignments at home so," Hana quickly explained. "I was just trying to slip it through the door for him."

"Ah, I can take that and keep it in my office until he is back," the history professor offered.

"Oh that would be lovely – it saves the students the trouble of having crinkled assignments being handed back to them…" Hana murmured.

"I should get going," Hana politely tried to take her leave. "Thank you."

Another time was after Hana had come back from a soft-opening of Honey's bakery, another branch of his chain had been set up in Kyoto. It was no surprise that she was invited, being a part owner in the company after all. Honey had given her a set of their specialty baked goods before she left, shoving a bag in her hands and shooing her off to see his cousin.

Mori had forgotten his phone and Hana knew that both of them couldn't finish all of these treats by themselves. Hana poked her head into the department lounge, quickly opening the boxes of pastries and hoping to leave.

"Oh! Hello." Hana recognized the history professor from before. She entered into the lounge with her lunch to be microwaved. Hana gave a nod of respect, only to be caught by several graduate students who eyed the food from the doorway. Like a hound of wolves, none of them passed the offer of free food.

"I—" Hana was taken back by the group of students who waited to pounce. "Uh, I brought some baked goods from a place close by. Please help yourselves." She gestured towards the table.

Murmurs of thanks and appreciation flooded the room as they walked past the mysterious stranger.

"Are you here for Professor Morinozuka?" the only familiar voice Hana knew spoke. She turned to the motherly figure and nodded.

"He forgot his phone," she shrugged. "I had to stop by anyway."

"Ah, so sweet of you… the professor smiled. "He's lucky to have you as his wife."

Hana opened her mouth to correct the woman but was interrupted by a grad student.

"This is so delicious!" they exclaimed. "Where are these from?"

"Honey," Hana answered. It was a fitting name of a bakery of sweet confectionaries. "I went to their soft opening today. It's just a couple blocks east of campus," she explained. She quickly took her leave after that.

It weighed on her mind for a while. Wife.

She didn't mind the title. She always associated marriage with settling down. Hana never settled. It was never in her character to settle because it was synonymous with losing. She was raised to be a warrior who triumphed through all kinds of adversity.

Yet here she was, in Kyoto – settled in a home with a man that she loved. A dog that had nothing but happiness to give, and a life that was nothing more than normal on a day-to-day basis. Marriage was nothing more than a title, a formality to the both of them.

And yet, it seemed to weigh so much on her shoulders despite it all.

She decided the moment he stepped through those doors that night. He settled his briefcase down and smiled at her. Hana couldn't remember the first time he did that to make her heart skip a beat. They felt like a married couple, the same routine every day.

But there was something about it that never felt old. She could do this every day. Hana never settled for anything less than what she believed to be the best.

And he was perfect.

He silently took out the garbage without her asking after dinner. He handed her the leash for Kaina's evening walk as she turned around from the kitchen counter wordlessly. He knew her every move, without even having to ask. Takashi still brought flowers – and each time, it never failed to surprise her.

Hana put the leash behind her on the counter and reached up to kiss him, pulling him down by the back of his head. His hands reached around her waist, pulling her close. They'd done this countless times by now.

And he always smiled, as though he were in a daze. He wasn't used to their life. He spent every day as though he lived in a fantasy. As if life couldn't be this good.

But life was this great. She reached for his lips again. She was softer this time. Reassuring him. This is real. It's always been real. Just you and me.

He responded back, his lips chasing after hers. He gently pushed her against the cabinets.

I know.

"Do you want to go away with me this weekend?" Hana asked, breathless.

"Hm?" he was still dazed.

"Let's go for a hike," she suggested. "Let's take Kaina to the mountains. Let's explore. Take a break from all of those lesson plans."

Takashi nodded. No second thought needed.

"Sorry, you're pretty much the only person I know who could do this on such short notice."
"No worries – it's a pleasure to be of any help to you, Marielle. Do you have his size?"

"Um…" There was a bit of shuffling. "Hold on a moment."

Early mornings were no surprise the couple. They were up before the crack of dawn and packed their bags and headed to the car. Hana drove, as always. Mori sat in the passenger seat, admiring the view – of her, and of course, the landscape.

They set out on their trek by 8 AM. Kaina trailed along with the humans with ease, stopping every once in a while to sniff out something she found interesting. The two ravelled in the silence. Only the rustle of leaves from the wind filled the air. The occasional chirping of birds and the ringing of cicadas began to hum in their ears as the afternoon approached. Sunlight filtered through the leaves. The ground beneath them was soft from last night's rainfall.

They took turns holding onto the leash, stealing glances at each other. Whenever their eyes met, they tried to hide each other's smile.

Her eyelashes fluttered as she smiled. She's so beautiful, he thought.

"Why are you grinning at me?"

"No reason," he shrugged.

Hana eyed him suspiciously and continued on with their hike. They were almost there. She had missed being with nature. It was peaceful here. Quiet. Serene. She had time to think. Time to relax. Time to understand.

"He's asleep but…" Hana sighed. "It's a bit of a… rough estimate with my shoelace."

"That's fine," the man chuckled. "We do adjustments if it won't fit."

He reached for her hand as she led the way. He always let her lead – and she never minded. He followed her like a moon.

"What is this for?"

"A proposal," she answered.
"Oh. And the crescent moon engravement?"

"He once told me that we wouldn't ever meet because our orbits no longer aligned. But… we found ourselves together, after all these years. He is my moon, I suppose."

They reached the top of the mountain a little before noon. He settled their picnic blanket beneath a small tree. They had spent the last few hours in silence, and now they chewed on their packed sandwiches as they reached the final destination. They let the mountains speak for themselves. A reminder that they were just small beings in the midst of a vast universe. It was humbling.

They looked at each other and thought the same thing.

It's breathtaking.

Kaina settled on the blanket behind them, taking a nap. They let the dog rest as they too, gathered the energy to do the same trek back to their car.

"Thank you, Jacques. Is it possible to get it before this weekend?"
"I will make sure of it. Was it the same man who gave you the bracelet?"
"Yes."
"Ah. Well, I hope it goes well, Marielle."

Hana gripped the box in her jacket pocket. It was a chilly morning, but the temperature had gotten to a much more comfortable range with the sun fully present. She took a deep breath and tapped his shoulder to gather his attention.

Takashi turned to Hana. She held a small black box in her hand with a plain platinum band sandwiched between the velvet crease. He blinked and looked up at her. It was a look of confusion that Hana recognized.

"Marry me," Hana whispered. "Please," she added, when he didn't immediately respond. Her eyes welled up with tears. It was silly of her. A physiological response that she didn't expect. Her heart had swelled up with so much love for the man, she couldn't even begin to express the tip of the emotions she felt.

He wiped away the tears on her cheek.

"Of course. Don't cry," he murmured. "Please don't cry."

"They're happy tears, I promise," she choked out. He pulled her into his embrace, soothing her back. He kissed her on her temple, as he always had.

"I have something for you," he whispered. Takashi pulled away as Hana kept herself in check. He tugged a zipper on his backpack to reveal a velvet box.

"No," Hana shook her head. "No, you did not just upstage me in this moment," she accused with a trace of amusement in her voice.

Takashi opened the box to reveal a silver band with a simple, solitaire diamond. It was a traditional ring. Nothing over the top, nor fancy. It was wonderful in itself.

"I bought it years ago," he admitted. "After your grandfather asked if I was going to marry you."

"What?" Hana gasped.

"I just… wasn't sure how to ask. And then you said you'd propose, so…" he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. "I just carry it around, everywhere." He shrugged.

Her vision became blurry. She sniffed. She hated how her brain wasn't letting her focus on the rational part of her thoughts.

"Why didn't you just…"

"I'm sorry," he sheepishly apologized, not knowing how else to stop Hana from crying.

"No," Hana wiped away her tears. "Oh goodness – I would've proposed earlier had I known you were sitting on this for so long!"

"You didn't know," he smiled at her, his eyes twinkling at the woman in front of him. He loved her so much. He wished he was able to say it better. Say it in more ways than she deserved.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I'm sorry I took so long to realize that… that this was important to me. That marriage was something I had wanted this whole time and—"

His lips met hers. Roughly at first, just so she would stop rambling and feeling guilty. He backed off gradually, telling her that it was alright. He didn't care how long it took. He was in love with her. And he always would be.

She was perfect to him.

A/N: Sorry, sorry... always a delay... the usual excuse of life being in the way. Thanks for reading, of course. Your thoughts would be lovely on this chapter.