Chapter Fourteen: Wanting

Summer – 2015

'I don't want to go. I'm not ready yet.'

Last words spoken so earnestly, followed by a loud bang that reminded him of small festivals and fireworks. Fond memories of his small hand in his father's larger one as they watched the sky light up. The way that light had reflected in his mother's eyes while she'd covered his ears. Happiness and joy and their whole lives before them.

The thud as Riko's body hit the ground, the light in her eyes that had been just as bright as those fireworks, gone. A haunting lifelessness in those eyes as the blood had pooled around her, the sharp smell of gunpowder in the air.

'The job is done, you're free to go now. Bye.'

He'd spoken so flippantly as if it was nothing. As if he had not snuffed out the life of a girl who had just started to hope for more. A girl whose last words were of all the things she did not want to miss, all the things she still wanted to see. Her last words, a desperate cry to live.

Now she never would.

Because of this man.

'I killed Gojou Satoru.'

The words wrapped around him, constricting his chest and holding him in a vice grip. He acted without thought, his mind filled with all the things they had not said, had not done. Words and deeds hovering on just the edge. Always a possibility but never a certainty.

Shaking knees touching and warm outer thighs pressed together as they crammed into booths that were too small for their group. Soft white hair that he'd run his fingers through only once, the excuse of digging out the gum Shouko had put there. Sharing drinks to feel the metal rim of too-sugary soda warmed by his lips. Hands resting so close together as their their fingers twitched, the yearning to intertwine their fingers almost palpable, but never quite touching. Staring into blue eyes long enough to memorize the darker flecks of blue, almost like sapphire. Never long enough to let themselves lean in and cross that line.

Now they never would.

Because of this man.

Lying in the rubble, the smell of dust as it clogged every pore, every part of him. The blood seeping across his chest and the burning pain of the blade that he could still feel as he lay there, unable to move. Oh and how he had willed his body to move, to open up his eyes. The pain of the wounds in his chest, the blood pooling in his mouth as he was kicked in the face. Dulled behind the pain of picturing lifeless ocean eyes and snow-white hair stained with crimson.

'Besides, you're here'.

Satoru was dead.

Because of this man.

'We're the strongest.'

Not even strong enough to avenge him.

Because of this man.

'Beaten by a monkey like me.'

Because of this monkey.

'You want to live a long life, don't forget that.'

Suguru never would, not as long as he lived. Satoru was dead but he was still alive. If only he could move, then he could fight. He willed himself to move, to force this monkey to fight him. He would unleash every curse he had in him if that's what this monkey was so afraid of. He knew what Shouko would say, the exasperated tone she often took when she told them not to be reckless. Complaints of being the one that had to put them back together again. She would call it a suicide.

That was a little bit the point, wasn't it?

If only he could move.

'It's time to get up'

He was trying. He couldn't even open his eyes, the pain of it all keeping him on just the edge of consciousness.

'Wake up.'

Something small was pressing on his shoulder, poking and prodding at him. The one thing that was not causing him pain, because that's all there was now. It was talking too, a familiar voice whispering urgently as it shoved at his shoulder.

"Getou-sama, wake up!"

He gasped for air as his shoulder was shoved, forcefully this time and the remnants of the nightmare fell away. The smell of gunpowder and dust was gone, a memory turned nightmare that he wasn't sure he could ever escape.

"Nanako is mad at you."

Suguru rubbed his face, staring at the ceiling and trying to force himself into wakefulness, into the real world.

"How mad?" he croaked out. He'd made it halfway home before he realized he never picked up the food Nanako had asked for. It was luck that they'd been asleep by the time he got home, but he'd still have to deal with the repercussions.

"Not so mad she won't let you eat breakfast, but you have to get up." Mimiko poked his shoulder again.

He rolled on his side, facing her and squinting at the window behind her. The light was too bright, she'd pulled back the curtains before she'd woken him up. It was almost funny, how badly he'd fought to move in that dream and how much he wanted to lay in bed now. "What time is it?"

"Like, ten-ish."

Suguru closed his eyes again, forcing himself to sit up and put his feet on the floor. It wasn't enough sleep, but it would have to do.

Mimiko eyed him, head tilted as she questioned him. "Did… did you see Natsumi?"

There wasn't enough sleep in the world to prepare him for that question. "Why?"

"Because you smell like cigarettes."

"Why do you know what cigarettes smell like?"

She tugged at her sleeve, a long-sleeved purple shirt she'd had so long the lettering on it was faded. He remembered when it was new, the letters and cartoonish character bright and colorful, when it had been too big on her and now… they were growing up too fast. Nanako was cooking and Mimiko knew what cigarettes smelled like and they were supposed to be little.

"Well, sometimes Miguel goes outside to smoke when we argue too much. He said we give him migraines."

"I didn't know he smoked."

"I didn't know you smoked," Mimiko accused. "You should shower and change, Nanako is going to be even more pissed if she realizes you were with Natsumi."

"Why are you so sure I was with her?" Not quite an admission but not a denial, which was often the closest to lying he ever got with the girls. He tried not to make a habit of lying to them, there were few situations that required it.

She shrugged, "She smelled a little like cigarettes when we met her and then you smelled like cigarettes when you came home and told me to call her. I put two and two together. I'm not dumb you know." Mimiko disappeared into the closet in the corner, yelling so he could still hear her. "Miguel says I'm really smart for my age! He started giving me harder equations, they're so hard that Nanako can't do them yet. Just me."

They were things he already knew, but he let her share her pride in herself. Finding someone to teach the girls proved more difficult than he thought it would be initially. Even if he could enroll them in a regular school, he couldn't trust their education to monkeys. He'd helped with reading and writing in the beginning, a little math, but it wasn't as if education had been the focus of his life before he'd found them. It quickly got to the point where they needed more than he knew how to give, and he was very fortunate to have found the family he did.

Mimiko stepped out of the closet long enough to throw a pair of pants at him. "Miguel started teaching us some Swahili and he said that he's going to ask Manami to teach us English. He taught us a little but she knows more, and he said that she can teach us French too."

He folded the pants and set them to the side, it wasn't the first time she'd treated him like a dress-up doll, picking out clothes for him. "Why do you need to know French?"

"We don't need to," she disappeared again into the closet, "but it's… I don't know why not? We probably don't need to know Swahili either, but it's kind of fun. Plus, Miguel says you never know what's going to happen. He never thought he would leave Kenya, and here he is." Mimiko exited the closet, tossing a shirt on the bed next to him. "Here, go shower and change before Nanako yells at you."

"You're very bossy this morning."

"Natsumi says that only girls get called bossy," Mimiko informed, her lips pursed. "She said that she used to get called bossy all the time but if she was a boy they would call it being assertive."

Of course she had, Matsuda thought everything revolved around gender. "You shouldn't take everything Matsuda says as fact. She has a lot of opinions that…" he thought of the way she'd asked for that monkey's life, even after what he'd done, because her friend shouldn't have to see it. "They come from a place of… they aren't informed by facts. Her opinions are based around her feelings, most of the time." Whatever chance he had of steering the conversation away from Matsuda was gone.

"Yeah, well Manami agrees."

His heart stuttered in his chest as dread pooled in his stomach. "Did you tell Manami about her?" his voice came out more strained than he meant it to.

"No, I told her I read it somewhere online. I didn't think she would understand," Mimiko answered, sitting on the bed next to him.

She wouldn't, none of them would. They wouldn't see Matsuda the way that Mimiko did and… the way that he did. Matsuda wasn't a monkey. She wasn't like the rest of them (nothing at all like the monkey that haunted his dreams) but how could he explain that? They wouldn't understand, not when he barely understood it himself. He could barely make sense of it, barely keep it straight in his own head (there were sorcerers, there were monkeys, and then there was Matsuda). If anyone else in their family knew about their interactions, even discounting the night before… It would not end well.

The silence hung heavy between them, Mimiko's hands in her lap as she toyed with the edges of her sleeve.

"Matsuda's not upset with you."

Her hands stilled. "So you did see her?"

He nodded, trying not to think of how the night had started with split knuckles he was currently hiding from view. "She feels guilty for involving you." It was much more difficult not to think of the way she'd been so concerned for Mimiko, for Satoru, for him. Almost impossible not to think of the way she saw him, as a father to the girl sitting next to him.

No, Matsuda was nothing like the monkey that haunted his dreams. Nothing like the monkeys in that village who'd asked him to kill children.

"Then why hasn't she called?"

"She had to get a new phone and lost the number, but she said that you should call her." He'd conveniently left out several details. Was a lie by omission still a lie? There were just certain things Mimiko didn't need to know, like the fact that she had to get a new phone because he'd broken it. Or that Natsumi knew the truth about his parents or Mimiko's role in it.

There were some things that no one needed to know.

"She wants to apologize, for involving you," he added.

Mimiko smiled softly, "I don't blame her. If you or Nanako got hurt, then I don't know what I would do."

"Nothing is going to happen to me or Nanako."

"I don't know, Nanako is pretty upset," the smile turned into a grin, "you should be a little scared."

"You should both be scared of me." Suguru turned his head, seeing Nanako standing in the doorway, hands on her hips and eyes narrowed at both of them. "I sent you in here forever ago and you never came back."

"I was telling Getou-sama what Miguel said about –"

"Stop bragging Mimiko."

"You're just jealous because you suck."

Nanako's face flushed, "I don't suck! Who cares? I don't need to know that stuff anyway! It's all stupid!"

"You mean you're stupid."

"Mimiko," Suguru interrupted before it could escalate into a blowout. "Don't say that."

"Whatever, I don't even care," Nanako crossed her arms, glaring at Mimiko, "I just came to ask you to set the table. Breakfast is ready."

"Fine," Mimiko muttered and stood, refusing to look at Nanako as she brushed passed her.

Moments ago, she'd been saying she didn't know what she would do if Nanako got hurt and now she was calling her stupid. They used to get along so well, almost inseparable, but in the last year or so they argued more and more over smaller and smaller things. Was this normal for siblings? Should he be concerned?

"You know, if you're not going to come home, you could let us know," Nanako muttered.

"It was an accident, Nanako. I got… caught up," he danced around the question she didn't ask. It felt like he was doing that a lot this morning. "It won't happen again."

"It's fine, I don't care. Mimiko was the one worried," she looked down at the floor, glaring at the carpet as if it had committed a crime she couldn't forgive. "Do you think that I'm stupid?"

"Of course not," he answered without hesitation. Nanako struggled more than Mimiko but that didn't make her stupid. Not everyone could be like Satoru, like Mimiko, where understanding came so easily.

"Then why didn't you say anything?"

"I did."

"You told her not to say it, not that it wasn't true."

Genuinely, he didn't see the difference. "I didn't think I needed to, you know that you're smart."

"Not like Mimiko," she mumbled, a frown on her face as she continued glaring at the floor, "and you like her better."

"That's not true."

"Yeah? I bet Mimiko knows where you were."

He stood, walking around the bed to the doorway where Nanako stood. He placed a hand on her head, her hair pulled back into a familiar braid, something she'd no doubt practiced on him. "I lost track of time, that's all."

She sniffled, her arms still crossed in front of her like when she was small. Nanako had always been a bit more withholding, always a little more distrustful of him, and for the most part, she'd grown out of it. "Well, just call next time so that I know you're coming back."

There were some things that people didn't grow out of, like never quite believing that he was here to stay. "I always come back," he said gently. "Even if I'm a little late, I will always come back."

Nanako surged forward, wrapping her arms around his middle in a rare moment of affection. "Promise." It wasn't the first time she'd asked him to promise he would stay.

"I promise, I will never leave you," he said, his hand still on her head. He ruffled her bangs the way he'd done when the girls were still little. So much had changed and so much was still the same. She was a teenager now, but she was still the little girl who was afraid he wouldn't stay. It probably wasn't the last time he would make her that promise.

Nanako pulled away, pinching her nose, "You stink."

"I'm aware," he poked her forehead.

"Is that because of Matsuda? Were you smoking with her again? Is that why you didn't come back last night?"

Suguru hesitated, "I saw Matsuda, and she was smoking." There was no need to mention that he was also smoking, not when Nanako was already in a foul mood.

She wrinkled her nose, "That's so gross. I don't get what you two see in her."

"I thought you liked her?"

Nanako waved a hand flippantly, "She's okay for a monkey."

There was no way to tell her not to call Matsuda a monkey without causing a fight, and the morning was already off to a rocky start for all of them. It would take too much explanation and he wasn't keen on explaining exactly how much time he had spent with Matsuda before he made it home. He especially wasn't interested in explaining how he'd concluded that Matsuda wasn't a monkey. It didn't help that there was no alternative to explain what she was. Matsuda wasn't a sorcerer, and she wasn't a monkey. She was her own category, and that was the only conclusion he could come to, even if he couldn't explain that to anyone else.

"Breakfast is going to get cold," Nanako turned around, looking over her shoulder back at him. "It's okay if you like her though. Even if she is a monkey." She closed the door behind her, continuing on as if she'd spoken casually about the weather and nothing more needed to be said.

Matsuda wasn't a monkey, and he might not be able to explain that to anyone else but it was true. It had to be. He would never have kissed a monkey.

Suguru couldn't stop thinking about Matsuda, and it was becoming a problem.

There was no way to think about her without also thinking of her pressed against him. He felt like a teenager, the way she'd invaded his every thought, and it was getting uncomfortable. As if it wasn't bad enough to have the look on her face branded into his memory, he couldn't stop hearing the way her voice sounded when he'd left her. Was she okay? Was she upset? How upset was she?

He didn't want to think about her. He wanted to think about something else, anything else. Any thought would be better. Even though he had decided she wasn't a monkey, there were still other reasons to stay far away from her. There was still Satoru to think about. It still wasn't clear what their exact relationship was. It shouldn't even matter. She was important to him and that should be reason enough to stay away from her. He'd hurt him enough hadn't he? There would be more hurt before it was all said and done and he should leave Matsuda alone.

It didn't stop him from looking for her while he was out. Though, to be fair, he didn't have much else better to do after being kicked out by a gaggle of teen girls.

By the time he had showered and changed, Nanako and Mimiko had (mostly) gotten over their spat. So much so that they'd concocted a plan together to have a slumber party 'like in the movies'. He'd agreed because it seemed harmless enough and truth be told he was getting a little tired of Nanako trying to curl his hair. Cutting it was one thing, it would grow back and it didn't hurt (he loved them, dearly, but he had no desire to be burned by a curling iron). Maybe a sleepover would get it out of her system. That was something that happened at sleepovers, wasn't it? Maybe that was something that only happened in the movies. Either way, boys were not allowed at girls' sleepovers. Or so said Nanako.

They planned it with Manami, seeing as she was one of the few adult women they knew and trusted. She was more than capable and had a few relatives she was inviting because 'two teenagers and a grown woman does not make a slumber party'.

He never realized there were so many rules involved in sleepovers, though he'd never had a sleepover like what the girls were talking about. The 'sleepovers' he'd had were usually just Shouko and Satoru singing karaoke at three in the morning. Occasionally he would wake up to them jumping on his bed, with him still in it. Sometimes the three of them would sneak into Haibara's room while he was on a mission and cover it with sticky notes or fill it with balloons. Usually, they were harmless (obnoxious but harmless) pranks, though Satoru once had the brilliant idea to fill Nanami's room with crickets (it did not end well).

In hindsight, those may have been stories he shouldn't have shared with the girls. He sent a quick text to Manami with instructions to keep them out of his room. Just in case.

Suguru carefully avoided the large group of people coming his way, tucking his hands in his pockets to avoid any unnecessary contact. It was too hot for it but he wished he would have worn a sweater anyway, resented the way one of the monkey's arms brushed his. He could tolerate the busy crowds when Nanako or Mimiko asked him for something, but this aimless wandering on a busy street was not ideal. The only reason that he had worn these clothes was because Mimiko insisted that he shouldn't 'dress like a bum'. It seemed an unfair assessment, he only wore the clothes he did because he didn't see a point in wearing decent clothes around monkeys he didn't care about.

He whipped his head around when he saw long brown hair out of the corner of his eye, causing a small stir in the crowd. There was a woman walking arm in arm with a man, chatting away about something he didn't bother to listen to.

It wasn't her.

Suguru turned back, continuing down the sidewalk, trying to ignore the smell of monkeys that hung so thickly in the night air.

It was ridiculous, he was being ridiculous. There was no good reason to be out here, he should leave Matsuda alone and not search her out. Miguel had offered to let him stay the night, really it was what he should do but he was – He was not looking for her. If he really wanted to look for her, he would just hang around her house, eventually, he would run into her. Looking for her, searching her out, was absurd.

Calling Miguel was still an option, he could call him now and head straight over there, he'd said something about inviting a few others. That was what he should do, instead of… whatever this was. Suguru definitely should not be turning his head every time he saw a woman with long brown hair on the off chance it was Matsuda.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of long legs and a familiar outfit, the dark skirt and white button-up he'd seen Matsuda in a few times. It was a group of three women, two facing away from him and towards the third. He turned away when he saw the tallest one had short hair. It wasn't her. The outfit was probably a uniform of some kind and not an uncommon one at that.

"Hey!"

He saw one of them waving at him and rolled his eyes, it was time to leave. It was bad enough to be surrounded by them but now one was waving him down in the street, it was all too much. Suguru turned around to head back the way he came, but he stilled. The shortest one of the group was arm in arm with the tallest, and he thought… was that the short woman that was with Matsuda that night? The one that had waved at him stepped around the other two, and he leaned away from her while she babbled her nonsense.

"Is that you, Matsuda?" he held his ground as she stood too close and resisted the urge to walk away. He had to know for sure.

The woman turned around, familiar brown eyes wide and eyebrows raised in shock, her lips parted slightly but she said nothing. It was Matsuda, and he'd almost completely missed her. She looked different with her hair so short, and yet… there was something oddly familiar.

The monkey that had called to him was still standing too close, looking back and forth between them. She accused Matsuda of being a liar, leaping to conclusions. It was fine, she could make whatever assumptions she wanted, and he could tolerate her for a few minutes. Matsuda's mouth opened and closed several times, starting and stopping but unable to finish whatever it was she was trying to say.

Suguru sidestepped the monkey, taking a closer look at Matsuda. She reminded him of… of something, something he couldn't remember. Maybe her haircut was throwing him off, he'd never seen her with short hair.

"You cut your hair."

Her cheeks tinged a slight pink and she looked away from him, eyes looking anywhere but at him as she spoke, never really saying anything. Well, at least he was able to form sentences, Matsuda still seemed to be struggling with that. Why did she look so familiar? Of course, he knew her but there was… there was something else. What was it? There was something about the way it hovered just above her shoulders, her hair tucked carefully behind one ear.

The short woman was watching the exchange thoughtfully, spectating the situation much like she had the other night, though with considerably less fear. The one that called him over on the other hand was grinning widely, a hint of malice in her expression.

"So, Natsumi, who's your friend?"

"He's… this is," she waved her hand around, still not meeting his gaze, "we have a… uh, a mutual friend. Friend of a friend, you know?"

He tried to tease her, the way they used to, when things were simpler between them. Or at least, when he thought it had been simpler. It never had been simple for her, had it? But she'd talked to him, anyway, even knowing all that she knew she still had talked with him. Even with everything that had happened, she still talked to him only a few nights ago. She might have been upset, might have even raised her voice at him but she had talked to him.

Now she wouldn't even look him in the eye.

The monkey was explaining where they worked, blinking so much he thought she was having a fit. It gave him more information to latch onto if nothing else. He tried, again, to talk to Matsuda, to get her to look at him.

She shrugged her shoulders and turned her gaze to the short woman, effectively ignoring him.

He was at a loss. She'd never ignored him before, and he'd assumed she would be upset that he'd left but he never thought she would ignore him completely.

"You know," piped up the short one, "I was the one who cut her hair. I think I did a great job. What do you think?"

He raised a brow at her, what did she want him to say? He'd let Nanako cut his hair when she was ten, it didn't require a great amount of skill. He glanced at Matsuda, her eyes fixated on the shorter woman.

Well… she was Matsuda's friend, he could at least try to be pleasant.

"It's… nice."

The short one continued, even inviting him to wait with them and Matsuda spoke for the first time in several minutes. "You don't bother me, Hana. Just Mitsuki."

The short one's name was Hana, he could make an effort to remember her name, she was… tolerable for the moment. Much more tolerable than the other one, gasping and looking at Matsuda in shock. He looked away from her as she clutched a hand to her chest, it reminded him vaguely of Satoru, though she lacked his flair. It made her more annoying than anything.

He caught Matsuda's eyes for just a second before she looked away. At this point, he'd made more eye contact with Hana. "Are you free tonight, Matsuda?"

Hana's declaration drowned out Matsuda's denial. She narrowed her eyes at her friend and pulled away, but Hana continued, winking at Matsuda and ignoring the way she crossed her arms in front of her chest. Matsuda looked away from both of them, staring resolutely across the street.

At least he wasn't the only one she was refusing to look at.

"I'm sure he has other things to –"

"Actually, Matsuda," he interrupted, trying to find something to say that wouldn't upset her. "I am… exceptionally bored."

The annoying one spoke up, a bored expression on her face as she used air quotes while she spoke. Matsuda needed better friends. He glanced at her again, a sour look on her face as she borderline glared at all of them. Was she angry that he left? Or angry that they kissed? Had she not wanted to? She'd kissed him first but she'd… she'd been drinking. Maybe she was angry that he was there. Maybe she didn't want anything to do with him at all.

Hana stood on her tiptoes, whispering so loudly that it had to be on purpose. He hadn't been able to hear her the other night so she must know how to whisper. Was this for his benefit? Maybe Hana wasn't so bad.

For a monkey.

Matsuda's cheeks flamed red, mumbling to her friend as she plastered on a smile that didn't reach her eyes. It was overly wide and lacking the small dimple he was used to seeing when she smiled at him. The other women didn't seem to notice, saying their goodbyes as Hana was dragged off by the annoying monkey. It should have left Matsuda with little choice but to look at him, instead, she only stared in the direction the other two women had gone.

He tried to talk to her, to ask her if something was wrong but she wouldn't have it. Her words were clipped, straight to the point asking him why he was there. Why was he there? He still wasn't sure and became even less sure when his attempts to bait her curiosity failed, miserably.

"You are upset."

She turned her back to him, was she going to pretend he wasn't even there?

"Are you ignoring me, Matsuda?"

She continued ignoring him, her hand digging in her purse and pulling out her keys as she turned away from him. Her steps were quick but not rushed, and it should have been a simple thing to let her walk away from him. Maybe it would have been but it was just… how odd, that of all times she should have ignored him she chose now. It would almost be funny, if he didn't feel so pathetic following after her.

Matsuda refused to stop and it was no small feat to get her to agree to talk to him. She only stopped when they reached her car and she still wouldn't look at him. It felt like he'd made more eye contact with her friends than with her. He couldn't seem to find the right thing to say if her tone was any indication.

"Just because you run into me, doesn't mean you have to talk to me."

Of course, he didn't have to. He didn't have to do anything he didn't want to do. The only reason he was even there was… because he wanted to be. There was no reason for him to have looked for her, no reason for him to be bothered by her refusal to speak to him. No reason other than he wanted to be around her.

Suguru leaned in close, his lips almost touching her skin as he spoke low in her ear. He watched the slight shiver run through her, standing so close to her he could see the goosebumps rise along her neck. So close that he could smell her perfume, a subtle sweetness that for once wasn't clouded by cigarettes.

She rested her head against the top of the car door, her shoulders tense as she asked him, again, why he was there, why he was talking to her.

He let out a laugh, hoped it would ease her tension and, well, it was a silly question, wasn't it? Why had he ever talked to her? He'd never had to, all he had to do was walk away from her. Before the other night, he had always written it off as finding her amusing and refused to look into it any further.

He didn't need to talk to her, but he'd wanted to. He didn't need to interfere the other night, but he'd wanted to. He didn't have to let her kiss him, certainly didn't need to kiss her back, but he'd wanted to. He wanted her. It was why he'd gone looking for her and why he couldn't stop thinking about her. It all was just that simple and there was a certain lightness in admitting that, that he hadn't quite expected to feel.

Calling her entertaining had been the very worst thing to say. It sent her on a tirade, and he heard, or he thought he heard a sniffle. Was she crying?

Had he made her cry?

"I meant… I meant that I find you interesting," he amended.

"For a monkey, you mean."

It almost knocked the breath from him to hear her say it, to hear it come from her mouth. It was almost painful, the way she talked about it, the way she talked about herself. This was what she assumed he thought of her. The worst part of it was not the way his stomach twisted at her using the word toward herself (until this moment he'd been hoping she didn't even know it). The worst part was that not that long it had been true, but that was before. Before the hospital and before she'd kissed him and before he'd realized that she wasn't a monkey. It wasn't how he thought of her anymore and… it seemed silly, to have denied that she was more than that.

She tried to open the door, to leave, and it was so wrong to push it closed, to keep her there, but she needed to know. That wasn't how he thought of her anymore, it was different now. He only just understood that she wasn't one of them. He wanted her and he could finally admit that. If she would just listen.

He stood to the side of her, finally able to see her face even if it was just from the side. "Matsuda, we… we need to talk about the other night."

"I'm embarrassed enough without us talking about it. I just want to pretend that the whole night never happened." She closed her eyes and turned away from him again, leaning her side against the car rather than look at him.

He took a step closer, pressing his chest against her back and tried not to let the warmth that radiated from her distract him from making his point. "I didn't leave because of you."

She asked him to leave, and what other choice did that leave him with? He wanted her, but none of it mattered at all if she didn't want him too.

So he walked away, left her alone just like she asked. It was probably better this way, there were so many… issues. So many complications that came from wanting her. It wasn't the first time he couldn't have someone he wanted. It wasn't the first time he would be plagued with what ifs and almost but not quite. What were a few more?

Matsuda didn't let him make it very far.

"Getou-san!"

Did she change her mind?

He turned, slowly, and tried to crush that little bit of hope.

She asked him to come with him, not in so many words, but it was all he needed to hear to go back towards her. "Are you sure, Matsuda? You seemed rather sure you don't want me around."

"Yeah… but you're buying dinner." She was awfully demanding for someone who had asked him to leave just a few minutes ago.

That didn't stop him from agreeing as he opened the passenger door, listening to her growing list of demands as he slid into the passenger seat.

"And cigarettes! And… you have to agree that after tonight… we're even. We don't owe each other anything," she said resolutely as she started the car.

'We're even now.'

'Not that it matters, I doubt we'll see each other again.'

'Hopefully not.'

'You really, really don't like me.'

He laughed so hard his shoulders shook with the force of it, they had never really owed each other anything. That night he had made such a fuss about running into her, about making them even. For months now, he'd been avoiding her, hiding from her and it all seemed rather silly now, sitting in her passenger seat. He'd called her stupid that night, but maybe he was the one who had been just a little stupid. He'd almost killed her that night, and what a waste that would have been.

"Whatever you say, Matsuda."

A/N: This was posted on AO3 about a month ago so now they are at the same pace again. I started working on a Full Metal Alchemist story two weeks because I was struggling so hard. I think that actually helped though because now I'm half way through chapter 15! So HOPEFULLY, I can bounce between the two and get back on a somewhat regular schedule.