Chapter 11 — Said the Springtide

Tickles of dewy petrichor lingered under the nose. Under a slate sky, an interposing chill guided the last snowfalls of winter, gesturing to the soil to wake the first blooms of spring. When rain fell, residue of its kisses speckled the leaves, the rooftops, the concrete—then dribbled, then drawn, to tiny puddles that splashed under the heels. When the clouds parted, it all would be made into a day's memory. So would it continue, this encompassed limbo of a season's passage. A lively spring and a timid winter.

Spring knew how to tease. It knew how to nibble and gnaw away at the tiny unpleasantries that made for wintry days. It stepped quietly at the doorstep, knocking once, twice, then waiting ever so slightly to taunt impatience. It warmed some days and it left the next. Before one could notice it, they would have already begun counting the days, pleading that the first flower would bloom sooner.

To witness another spring meant many things. A letup of the freezing air. One less brush of snow off the shoulders. Early buds of the cherry trees and warm daylight. The start and end of another year, and all of the recollections thereafter. One whole year. The thought would reflect itself the same way the dim silhouette of his face reflected from the passenger side window. It was hard to think that it had already come and gone, and just how much had changed compared to the boy who stood beside five others, proudly holding their high school diplomas under the cherry trees. In these collected days, everyone and everything had slowly diverged. Paths had been drawn and they took those first steps. Like him, others would also continue to grow and change, though the trails left behind by those closest to his heart were never too far to follow.

One year, done and behind him. Soon after this short recess marked the start of Fuutarou's second year as a university student.

"Well, here we are," the driver called back. "Nagoya Station. You guys need help getting some of the things out of the trunk?"

"I'd appreciate it if you would, Maeda-kun." Neatly brushed hair had stuck itself between Fuutarou and Maeda, turning dazzling eyes between his two friends. "You too, Uesugi-kun! I brought a lot of stuff with me, after all."

"A little too much if you ask me, Takeda," Fuutarou remarked as he picked up the bag by his feet. "Vacation wasn't even that long. You look like you've packed enough to furnish a new home."

At the close of car doors, the three boys had stepped onto the station sidewalk. His wrist drew over his brow, squinting against the bright sunlight that parted the clouds. Nagoya Station. A short journey's way by car. After that, it would only be a smooth trip on the Shinkansen and a few smaller trips on the local transport before they were back at Tokyo. Spring semester of their second year would begin a few days after.

A splash of rainwater grazed his cheek. It had rained the night before, and the last bits of it barely clung onto the metal canopy.

"Better to bring too much than too little," Takeda proudly stated at the heave of his second luggage bag. "You live a little farther from the station, don't you, Uesugi-kun? The least you can do is keep an umbrella on you or something. Whatever will you do if you catch a cold when you're all by yourself?"

Fuutarou and Maeda placed more baggage around the handles of the rich boy's bags. "I'll be fine," said Fuutarou. "It already stopped raining, and I'm going straight back to my apartment when we get off." He turned to Maeda. "Thanks again for giving us a ride, Maeda."

"No worries, man," replied Maeda. "It was cool seeing you guys again. Have a safe trip back to Tokyo, alright?" As he said that, Maeda had looked away to lock screen of his phone. A low sigh escaped his lips, twisting the expression on his face to puzzlement.

"Something the matter?" Fuutarou asked, but before Maeda had the chance to shrug it off, Takeda had stealthily snuck a glance from behind Maeda's shoulder.

"Checking if Matsui-san left you any messages?" Takeda playfully smirked. "Hmm?

Maeda quickly stuffed his phone into his pockets, but it was a futile attempt. "What… what are you talking about?"

"I saw how many times you kept checking for new messages from the backseat. So the two of you got back together, yeah?" The lengths of his eyelashes fluttered with a mischievous wink. "Have things been going well between you two?"

"Matsui, hmm…" Fuutarou pinched his chin. The name definitely sounded familiar, but admittedly, he was never the best at remembering people's names. If it were anyone the three of them knew, it would pretty much be someone from back in high school, and vaguely recalling the name was probably—

"Oh!" Fuutarou said with a light snap of his fingers. "She was that girl from our grade, with long black hair, right?"

"Her hair is brown, actually," Maeda promptly corrected.

"So I was right! You were waiting on her!" Takeda wrapped an arm around his friend. "Come on, spill the details! You two hitting it off, or what?"

The slight tinge of red on Maeda's cheeks disagreed with his nonchalant pose. He sighed, knowing there was no point in hiding it. "More or less… so what? We talked for a bit in high school, but it kind of fizzled out. Before we knew it… it was already time for graduation."

"And?" Takeda asked, a little too curious. "What sparked that flame again? Was she the one who contacted you first, or the other way around? Oh! And does she—"

"You ask too many questions!" Maeda pushed Takeda's face off his shoulders. Scratching the back of his head, Maeda continued, "And… I was the one who hit her up again. We uhm… I mean I could really tell that Matsui and I could have had something going on, but back then I was a little too… afraid. We both picked different schools, so I was afraid of what might have happened if things didn't work out or something…"

"What made you change your mind?" asked Fuutarou.

Maeda looked away, his voice reduced to somewhat of a grumble. "I just didn't want to waste it. I didn't want to look back and regret it by saying things like 'what if', or 'maybe'. I thought… it was about time I started thinking about things going right for a change, you know?"

Takeda and Fuutarou exchanged a look to each other, and in silent agreement, turned to hearty laughter. "That's the spirit, Maeda!" Takeda patted his friend on the back. "Spoken like a true man!"

"We're rooting for you, Maeda." Fuutarou nodded. "Best of luck."

"You guys…" Maeda began to straighten himself, running his hand over a loose strand of hair. "Just you watch; Matsui and I are going to hit it off right away! In fact, when I drive back I'm going to give her a call and ask her out on a date. I'm totally seri—"

He nearly jumped off his feet. Quick repetitions of buzzing sounds and melodic chimes. His cellphone. It only took one glance at the screen for Maeda to retract his earlier words as overconfidence, leaving him a stuttering mess. "Oh my god, i-it's her! Guys, g-guys, Matsui is calling me right now!"

"Well go answer it!" Takeda ushered him along with a wave of his fingers. "Go on, go on. Uesugi-kun and I are good to go."

"Wait, wait! Don't go yet. What should I even say? How should I answer?"

"How should we know?" Fuutarou said.

"You of all people should know, Uesugi! You're good at these kinds of things!"

"Me?!" Fuutarou gawked. "Just who do you take me for? Good at what?"

"Don't start playing dumb now! Tell me what I—"

"Oh for the love of—just go, already!" Takeda looped behind Maeda, pulling the door to the car wide open. Maeda had not noticed that at the same time Takeda had briefly snatched his phone. Before he could retaliate, Takeda had already tapped the green 'Accept Call' button and gently nudged it against Maeda's ear.

"Wait, what are you—hey, hey! Did you just answ—oh, ah! M-Matsui-san! H-Hey, what's up? Oh, uh, no, no this isn't a bad time. I was just—"

As Maeda had turned around, Fuutarou had taken the opportunity to gently nudge him back inside his car, giving their friend some much needed privacy. A tap came from the other side of the window. Muffled sounds and motions came from Takeda, mouthing to him, "just be yourself!"

Past the station gates and a handsome amount of yen later, the two Tokyo University students comfortably sat themselves down on the cushy seats of the Shinkansen. Clatters and rolls of metal against rails filled the train car, accompanied by the low hum of acceleration. Fuutarou propped his hand against his chin. Familiar sights of Nagoya and the roads that trailed back home to Tokai melded into a blur the louder the hum drew over his ears; the rhythm occasionally broken with every attention-grabbing chime from the intercom announcement. Give or take two hours time, they would be back in Tokyo.

"How's Ichika been, Uesugi-kun?" Takeda said with a tap of his friend's shoulder. "Things have been going well between the two of you, hm?"

"You're always so curious about these kinds of things, Takeda."

Takeda laughed. "You're right about that. Can't help myself from being a little curious, but you know, you always seem to be in a good mood when you talk about her. How could I not ask every once in a while, hmm?"

Fuutarou leaned back in his seat, letting out a single chuckle. "Sometimes, I can't tell if you're doing this just to tease me. Things have been going… very well between us, actually. I didn't get to see her as much as I would have liked, since vacation overlapped with some of her work schedule."

"Schedule, you say? Ah! Does that mean Ichika-san got over that trouble she was facing with her work?"

"Hmm… a bit. Ichika's work is back to being a little busier these days. She's really been giving it her all, but it's understandable Ichika hasn't been totally thrilled about some of the work."

"What do you mean?" Takeda asked. "Is she still stuck with those minor roles?"

"Not exactly minor… but not exactly major either, if that makes any sense." Fuutarou furrowed his brow, thinking of the right words. "Nothing as good as some of her best roles, either way. Ichika is talented and brimming with potential; studios these days just aren't utilizing it at all. It's beyond frustrating…"

"You were grumbling a little with that last one, Uesugi-kun." Takeda happily chortled. "But that's understandable. Like any protective boyfriend would be; there's nothing wrong with being a little worried about her."

Fuutarou nodded. "Yeah… Ichika knew it wouldn't be that easy right away. She told me that she's ready for anything, and I'll support her in any way I can."

Takeda peaked toward the window. Wiggling trails of leftover rainwater slid around the seams of their window, and over the treetops, remnants of rain clouds gathered to the distance. "You live a little farther from campus, right? You sure you'll be alright getting home?"

"I'll be fine. I looked up the weather in Tokyo and there's practically no chance of rain."

"Can never be too sure, Uesugi-kun." Takeda wagged a finger. "'Practically no chance' isn't the same as a zero percent chance, and just hearing you boast that so confidently is basically asking for it to rain! Have you ever thought about moving somewhere a little more convenient? Like somewhere right near campus?"

Fuutatou first answered with a silent raise of his brow, as if stating the obvious. He shook his head, then continued, "You aren't wrong. I've thought about moving out if I could. The scholarship grants only help so much, and my part time job pays the rest so I can live comfortably." He hummed a little quietly to himself as he pinched his chin.

"Something the matter?" Takeda asked.

"Since you brought it up, there's been something that's been on my mind lately. A few weeks ago, I received a phone call from… Nakano Maruo-san."

Sometime ago, Maruo had brought up a certain concern to Fuutarou. Bluntly, Maruo had asked Fuutarou of the extent concerning his future plans with Ichika, and more specifically, the possibility of inviting his daughter to move in with him in Tokyo.

Maruo stated that—as part of his way of parenting—he had established a certain rule to his five daughters in regards to their independent living situation. He had given them their own place in a high class apartment, as well entitling each of them a generous monthly allowance. All that he requested was that the five of them would live honestly, and that there would be complete transparency between him and their spendings.

It was a fair deal. His own absence withholding, Maruo wished for Nakano Rena's children to live a pleasant and comfortable youth, free from the hardships that poisoned their mother's life. For years, there would not be any issue with the arrangement.

Until—to Maruo's own bewilderment—the five sisters had defied him and had moved out of the apartment during their third year. And at the heart of that decision was none other than the eldest, Nakano Ichika.

"Unbeknownst to me," Maruo had then said, "Ichika had opened her own bank account. She had filed with a property agency, signed with property insurance, wired the electronic transfers, and provided a copy of her recent payslips. She figured out and handled all of that on her own, and I was none the wiser."

At first, Fuutarou had wondered if Maruo was leading into some form of payback—something to further the idea that he had somehow manipulated those girls to defy their father, and that he was nothing but trouble for him and his daughters. What came next was not exactly what Fuutarou would have imagined Maruo saying.

"I have no intention of discouraging her, nor would I expect Ichika to stop even if I did..." Maruo shook his head. "I realized at that moment that my girls were adults now. If Ichika wishes to move in with you, then who am I to say no? Which is why I ask you. Uesugi-kun—have you given any thought of inviting Ichika to move in with you in Tokyo?"

Even now, Fuutarou still thought about it. Rappongi, Shibuya, Meguro, Minato, Den-en-chōfu. Famous actors and actresses would of course have their eyes set to the higher districts of wealthy living and renowned movie studios. Maruo did not doubt Ichika's talents, and if she was to eventually climb the social rankings of cinema, it was evident that his eldest daughter would too set her sights on the Tokyo region.

Of course, all of that paled to a more significant reason—to be that much closer to her significant other.

"I don't expect you two to have a plan right this moment," Maruo responded when Fuutarou answered with uncertainty. "However, I had taken the liberty of doing some research."

"Research?" Fuutarou asked.

"Your current place of residency," Maruo continued. He recited the precise details of Fuutarou's own address. "Neighborhood. District. Amenities. Those kinds of qualities, Uesugi-kun. I'd go as far to say that your current standards are… subpar. Never mind for an actress; the current conditions are not fit to even house my own daughter."

Remembering that conversation left a small wound to his pride, but it was not as if he had the luxury of choice. Terrifying matters aside—like the fact that Maruo had ways of investigating his current place of stay—his only other choice was dormitory stay, but his current arrangement allowed him to save a lot more money this way. It even allowed him to treat his father and younger sister to a few smaller luxuries for their tiny home, though Isanari continued to refuse assistance with the family debt, stating that it would be better for his son to save it. For Fuutarou, he could make do with the thirty-to-forty-five minute walk to campus. He had no issues putting up with the inconsistencies of the air conditioning unit, or the occasional stray cat that found their way onto his balcony. It was hardly a bother to him.

But if Ichika were to move in with him, that would be a different case entirely. "Perhaps…" Fuutarou said with a press to his neck. "But with all due respect, Nakano-san, you don't seem to be aware of my situation. It's not like I can simply decide."

"Which is why I will offer you both my help."

Fuutarou had almost spit out his coffee. "Excuse me. That is… really generous of you. I am truly grateful that you are offering, but I don't think I could simply accept that kind of—"

"I knew you wouldn't," interrupted Maruo. "And neither would Ichika. Ichika has never once asked for my help, or more specifically, she has never needed my help. I can tell that you are the same way."

Maruo then rolled his neck, as if shaking a bothersome thought. "However, when the time comes, I am willing to offer you both other means of assistance. A connection to a proper property agency. A reference on my behalf to your two's future landlord. I will even sign as your guarantor. Surely, that much wouldn't be a problem?"

As he finished recollecting the conversation, Fuutarou slowly rested his head on the back of his seat. His eyes drew to the plain white ceilings of their train car. "Well… that's good news isn't it?" Takeda leaned over, surprised to see the puzzled look on his friend. "It's actually wonderful news! No matter how well you and Ichika may be, long distance must be tough for a relationship, right? You two can be closer together!"

"Yeah…" Fuutarou said. "I was just… surprised. Not even in my dreams would I have thought Nakano-san would go that far for us. Moving in together… it actually seems possible."

"So why don't you sound more excited?"

There was a slight twitch to Fuutarou's mouth, as if he had trouble forming the words. "Things just seem to be going too well. I don't know. It's a strange thing to think about. University, my scholarship, mine and Ichika's future, and now, her father is helping us out. After everything that's lead up to here, I just don't know what to say or how to feel…"

"Feel fortunate!" Takeda loudly patted him on the back, breaking him from his tentative thoughts. "Remember what Maeda-kun said a while ago, Uesugi-kun? Think about it as things finally going your way. They say pride is a tall mountaintop that sees less, because it forgets about the clouds it already pierced through."

"Who says that?"

"Me!" Takeda grinned, making Fuutarou roll his eyes. "Point is though, I am sure somewhere in that big head of yours, you've always been too proud to accept things that weren't one-hundred percent your own doing. You're too proud, and it makes it hard for you to accept the goodwill of others. Sooner or later, you'll just have to learn that not everything comes with strings attached. And that you should take the opportunities before it slips by you."

At first, Fuutarou was silent. Contemplative. It had become strangely alarming to him how much easier it was for people to read him, or perhaps, he had always been this easy. Pay your debts; give and take. "Maybe… you got a point. Maybe what Maeda says is also true for me too—things really are starting to go my way."

The puzzled look on his face quickly shifted to anticipation as Fuutarou straightened himself off his seat. "Right! I've decided. The next time I talk to Ichika, I'm going to invite her to live with me in Tokyo. As soon as possible! I'll even call her the moment I get back to my apartment."

Takeda chuckled. "Eager, aren't you?"

"And Takeda," Fuutarou continued. In a somewhat clumsy gesture, Fuutarou offered a closed fist to his friend. A simple, cordial gesture that had seen many boys of their age exchange, but admittedly never knew exactly why. "Thanks. For hearing me out."

A satisfied smile formed on Takeda's face and he tapped knuckles. "Anytime."

It did not take long before Takeda's demeanor shifted, playfully nudging his elbow against the side of his longtime rival and friend. "Just don't start getting a little too excited when you end up living with your beautiful girlfriend in Tokyo! Even if we're all grown up now, you got to be the responsible one and make sure you two stay safe."

Fuutarou abruptly coughed, turning away as if the thought had not crossed his mind at least once. A poor attempt. "I don't… know what you're talking about, Takeda…"

Trickles of rainwater fell above his nose. Under cloudier skies of gray, the pitter-patter of rushed footsteps sung in tandem with the splash of puddles. Streams of bubbly water flowed in parallel to the nearby street. Hundreds turned to thousands, as tiny ripples of rain impacts briefly decorated the floor, or prematurely spattered over umbrellas unfurled.

With every piling drop of rain, the troubled university boy was reminded again and again exactly how foolish he sounded that very morning. At first, it was denial; a mere light sprinkle of the dissipating clouds as they crossed through several different regions of Japan. Surely, it would pass by the time they arrived in Tokyo. Any moment now it would.

"Damn it," Fuutarou cursed under his breath. "Me and my big mouth…"

Spring rain—perhaps a handful of drops short of a downpour.

He picked up his pace, sending bursts of rainwater behind his heel. It was a long walk from the station to his studio. Drop after drop the surface of his dark hair was becoming lightly embossed with rainwater. Dampening cloth slowly began to cling onto his skin, and no amount of shielding with his arms could completely ignore the rain. He had to make it home, and he had to do it soon. "Damn it!"

Crackles of distant thunder echoed through the streets. With the clothes on his back just barely dry, Fuutarou breathed a sigh of relief. He had managed to make it back to his building before the precipitation had turned violent.

Unit 423. He closed his eyes, silently praying that it would be where he had told them to leave it, then promptly reached under the welcome mat. A short sigh of relief came as he retrieved the plastic key card to his studio, though he eyed one minor detail. An addition. On the corner of the little plastic rectangle was a sparkly green sticker—one you could possibly find on a children's sticker book—shaped like a four-leaf clover.

Yotsuba… Fuutarou thought to himself, sighing. It seemed as if the fourth sister had taken the liberty of decorating his key card. A harmless little prank; something light on the heart to sweeten his soured mood.

He entered his apartment.

And that tiny feeling of sweetness was so suddenly left behind, right outside his apartment door.

From the moment he stepped in, Fuutarou noticed a handful of bothersome details. Dim light shone above his kitchen sink, carelessly left on during the apartment's vacancy. Drawers and cupboards were left at different angles ajar, and the higher cabinets were hardly bothered to be closed. Kitchen rags and kitchen appliances were scattered and misplaced across the counter, and there was an odd—

Oh. Whatever it was that had he stepped on just now—it had better not be garbage. He glanced down. It was a thin cardboard box with large and bold lettering, decorated over a slice of pizza. With visible grease stains across the box.

Garbage. Definitely garbage.

Fuutarou stepped over it. He felt the short surge of blood rush to his head, just above his furrowed brows. If he dared to turn on the light, just how much more of a mess would he find? Cleaning all of this up would take the entire day, so he could forget about settling back in peacefully.

But, before any of that, there was something else he had to take care of first.

He made sure to lift the phone a little further from his ear as the call connected. "UESUGI-SAN! Hello! Did you make it back home to Tokyo safe and sou—"

"Yotsuba!" Fuutarou cut her off, his words slipping past his clenched teeth. "Don't you give me that! What did you two do to the place?!"

"Whoa!" He heard how quickly the fourth sister's voice shrunk. "Wha… what do you mean? Is everything alright over there? What happened?"

"Don't play dumb, Yotsuba! And where the hell is Miku?" He walked past his bathroom door, which of course, was left wide open. "I lend you two my place so that you can go to some convention or something, and you two trash the place?! What gives?"

Fuutarou stepped into the main room. Streams of the outside downpour ran down his window, and the howls and swirls of the wind battered against it. Again, he should feel relieved to have at least made it home before it got worse, but the sight of his room made that difficult.

The once plain floors and interiors of his apartment room was now an equally disorderly mess. Some of his clothes had been removed from or loosely hung off the drawers, perhaps used to accommodate the two sisters' clothes, but were not neatly placed back. Books and shopping bags were scattered around the floor. His blankets and bedsheets were left as a bundled mess, with more stray articles of clothing piled or shoved alongside it.

"I really don't get what you're talking about, Uesugi-san…" Yotsuba's voice continued, sounding a lot more cautious with her words."Miku and I made sure the place was spotless before we left! Isn't that right, Miku? Come here for a second; it's Uesugi-san."

"Fuutarou?" The distant sound of the third sister drew closer."He's on the phone? What happened?"

"He seems pretty… upset," Yotsuba answered, but Futuarou could not tell if she was trying to whisper in an attempt to be subtle or not. "I'd be careful what you say around him. It's scary hearing him yelling at us again."

Nope, it was definitely an attempt to be subtle. A truly awful attempt.

"Upset? About what?" Miku was closer now. "Hello, Fuutarou?"

Fuutarou moved aside the leftover candy wrappers that littered his floor-table, grabbing a few of them as he went. He placed the phone on speaker as he continued through, cleaning up the mess starting with the articles on the floor. "You two left the place a total mess! All of my stuff is everywhere, like it's some kind of uncivilized land. Exactly what does 'clean' mean to you two? There's a whole bunch of—ow! I think I stepped on a… is that a brush? Why did you leave behind a…"

"Wait, that doesn't make any sense…" Miku scratched her head, looking to Yotsuba. "We made sure to clean everything up right before we left."

"That's what I said!" Yotsuba added. "That just doesn't make any sense at all, unless Uesugi-san was—" There was a short pause, and if Fuutarou were physically there, he would have seen the green ribbons atop Yotsuba's head twitch with her insightful thoughts. "Unless… there was a robbery! Maybe there's a burglar afoot!"

"Don't be ridiculous , Yotsuba!" Fuutarou hollered towards the speaker phone as he shelved some of his books. "Get serious for just one second. It's one thing to leave a huge mess, but I seriously can't believe you two would lie about it."

"But we really aren't, Fuutarou. Yotsuba and I cleaned up and left your key card under the mat, like you told us to. You remember right, Yotsuba?"

"Mhm! Mhm! We did all of that!"

"Then you're telling me that this mess just somehow appeared out o—" Fuutarou froze in place. Slowly, he began to piece together the details of his tiny apartment. Displaced articles of bedding and clothing strewn about the room, tossed as if not by carelessness—but by force. Drawers, cabinets, and doors left open, as if whoever was here was searching for something.

Was he too quick to rule out the possibility? Did someone actually break in and rob his place?

"Yotsuba… Miku…" Fuutarou cautiously looked around. There were a number of days where this apartment was vacant. "Did either of you… say out loud… where you left my key card?"

The slight tremble to Miku's voice over the phone sent a chill down Fuutarou's spine—as if one of his worst fears were suddenly realized. "Wait… Fuutarou, did someone really… break into your home?!"

"Ehh?!" Yotsuba abruptly shouted. "My guess was right?!"

"Yotsuba! Did you say anything as you were leaving my place? Something about leaving my key card under my mat?"

"What? No! I would never! Why would—"

"You probably blurted something out by mistake!" Fuutarou lashed, even if he knew it was baseless. For some reason, it seemed almost fitting that the loudest of the sisters would let that detail slip.

He could practically imagine it. Okay! We got everything! Yotsuba would probably have said as they stood outside his door. Now, we just have to leave the key card right under the front mat, just like Uesugi-san told us to!

Yotsuba's troubled voice interrupted his fabricated scenario. "I… I-I don't remember… I don't think I did. No I'm sure I didn't, but… I don't… remember…"

"Then how would anyone know?! I didn't tell anybody else!"

Fuutarou began rummaging through his desk, his drawers, his higher shelves. He was unsure of exactly what he was looking for, but every speck and detail of his belongings had to be accounted for. Every coin, book, decor, and device. "What did they take?" He quickly muttered, growing louder with every piece of clutter shoved aside. "What did they take?!"

"Let's all calm down a bit, Fuutarou, Yotsuba." Miku took the phone from her panicked sister. "Fuutarou, we shouldn't jump to conclusions like that. I don't remember either of us saying anything like that."

"You're—" Fuutarou clenched his teeth and fists. Breathe. Deep, deep breaths. Again. "You're right, Miku. Sorry. Sorry to you too, Yotsuba. I didn't mean to direct that at you."

"It's okay, Uesugi-san." Yotsuba let out a relieved sigh."It's more important that you're safe."

"Is there anything damaged?" asked Miku. "Any signs that someone came in and took something?"

Fuutarou looked around the room. Accounting for his own belongings that he brought with him back to Tokai, there should not be anything else of notable value in his apartment. Expensive as they were, textbooks were not exactly worth the trouble. And in a weirdly thankful way, he could at least count that all of his newly bought clothes were still here, seeing as they were sprawled across the floor.

"No…" He began to think quietly to himself. "Nothing seems to be—" His eyes grew wide, and he quickly dropped to the floor. "My passbook! Shit! Don't tell me—"

"Huh? Your passbook?"

Under his bed. Tucked in a box along with all of his other student and scholarship documents. The passbook to his bank, detailing every transfer and transaction he had logged this past year. The necessary information he needed as part of his scholarship grants. Along with the details of his bank account.

"Ow!" Fuutarou winced. He had bumped his head in a hurry against the underside of his bed. He had to keep reaching; surely it must still be here. "Found it!"

He withdrew his box from under the bed. It was still there.

"Are you okay, Fuutarou? That sounded really loud just now. Are you hurt?"

Fuutarou slunk down, leaning his back against the frame of his bed. A large breath of relief fell out of his lips. "It's here. Thank goodness, it's still here…"

"Whew! That's a huge relief" Boisterous as she usually was, Yotsuba was quick to turn the conversation's mood. It made it easy to picture the look on the fourth sister's face as she laughed triumphantly. "You gave us quite the scare there! For a second, I thought you were really in trouble! But…but! Don't we still have another mystery to solve? Doesn't that mean we only have MORE questions? Like, like…"

Fuutarou rolled his eyes. He could tell that this was going to be a long one, so he turned up the volume of his phone's speaker while he continued around his room. For the time being, there was no way he could get his thoughts straightened out if he stood in this disaster of a room. He started with the piles of clothes left on the floor. A gray hoodie, a bundled-up scarf…

"…if someone did break in," Yotsuba continued, sounding far more entertained at the thought of playing detective,"then why wouldn't they take anything? What was their goal? Maybe it's possible that Uesugi-san is being targeted by a super secret organization, or maybe he's now caught up in some—"

Fuutarou hollered back to the phone, "I'd sooner believe you two forgot to clean up than believe that. Your crazy theories just prove how seriously you're taking this." He walked over to the doorway, finally flicking on his light switch. Things looked a lot worse in the light, and he continued picking up articles of clothing. He began with the clothes down on the floor beside the bed. A white button-up long sleeve, a green lounge shirt, a pair of white socks. And just what was this black strap poking out from under the tea table…

"Oh! Wait wait WAIT! I got it! Maybe, Uesugi-san has a… DOPPLEGANGER! Maybe in Tokyo U, since it's full of so many geniuses, the science department secretly created clones of all of the students and… and—!"

…a dark elastic band, trimmed with thin floral lace at the straps, down to where it to connected two large, rounded cups. A woman's bra.

"Ugh… so noisy…"

A hand had reached from behind Fuutarou's ear, stretched far so that he could feel the subtle warmth of her woken skin, right beside his cheek.

And so suddenly did Fuutarou feel a shiver run down his spine. In the solace of it all, he had not once noticed the sound of feet softly touching the floor behind him. He did not hear the rummage of blankets and bedsheets unfurling, now draped over her chest and shoulders, like a slowly slipping dress. Glimpses of her bare skin peeked between the gaps, obscured just enough to tempt a closer look and the look on her face seemed to invite it.

Forcefully encompassed in this intimate space, Fuutaoru's eyes slowly began to follow the inside of her arm and elbow, trailing to the ends of her fingers, firmly pressing the bright red 'End Call' button of his phone screen.

From the interrupted end of the phone call, Miku and Yotsuba exchanged odd glances to each other. "That voice we heard just now…" Yotsuba said, still frozen in her grandiose story-telling gesture.

"…wasn't that…" Miku could not finish her sentence, slowly turning red.

It was almost as if Fuutarou had to force his heart to start beating again, and to force his lungs to utter something. Anything! "I-Ich…"

A blissful, somewhat dreary, smile greeted her speechless lover as she leaned in to snatch a quick kiss on his lips. "Good morning, Fuutarou-kun."

"I-I-Ichika?!" His lips were still partially agape, and his stare was just as wide. "W-Wha… what are you doing here?! Where did you—when did you—"

"It's nice to see you too. Kept me waiting, didn't you? ." Ichika yawned, drawing her arm further above her head in a tired stretch. "How long was I out? Oh, only a few minutes?" The blankets that wrapped around her had slipped even further and Fuutarou remembered one specific detail. Ichika slept completely naked.

He quickly turned away, but from where Ichika stood, she could perfectly picture the embarrassed look on his face that led right to the reddish tinge on the back of his ears. After a moment to calm his heart, Fuutarou snuck a glance sideways, asking her, "What are you doing here, Ichika?"

"Hmm?" He heard the drag of blankets trail behind Ichika as she stepped from behind one shoulder to the other. "Is an actress's job ever so busy that she can't surprise her special someone with a little visit? You don't seem that excited to see me, Fuutarou-kun."

"That's—No, I'm just… really surprised. I'm happy that you're here, but…" He tugged his collar. "You're uhm… you're not… wearing..."

Ichika giggled softly behind him. Like ice pressed against his skin, Ichika blew a short puff of air against his ear, whispering tenderly to him, "Aww. You're so cute when you're like this. Don't worry, I'm still wearing panties."

"That's not the entire issue…"

She laughed again. "Then, you wouldn't mind if I borrowed a shirt, right? I'm sure there's one lying somewhere around here…"

"Lying around here…?" The wheels were slow to turn in his head, but it all became clear the moment he looked away towards the mess that was his apartment room. It was much like a certain person's room; someone he knew very, very well. He sighed loudly. "I should have guessed the one who trashed my apartment was you."

"How rude." Ichika pouted, drilling a finger into his cheek. "What kind of slob do you take your girlfriend for?"

"Have you seen your room? What other slob do I know lives like this?"

"Oh come on, it's not that bad. See? There's a clean shirt right here."

"How can you—" His back immediately straightened when he realized how close she was again.

She knew enough about the kind of places that made him squirm. He felt both her arms caress over his shoulders. Warmth from her skin surrounded him, and he had to control every urge within him to ignore the heavy smother of her bare chest pressing against his back. And because he used everything, nothing could have stopped that shriveled moan that quivered his lips when Ichika gently nibbled the back of his ear. "Be on your best behavior, okay, Fuutarou-kun?" She whispered into his ear. "No. Peeking."

He was left only with his imagination, and the involuntary pictures it painted in his mind as he heard the tug and slip of cotton gliding against skin. "Okay, you can look now."

Loosely fitted on the young woman was a white button-up long sleeve shirt with a collar. Wrinkled cotton made up the bend of the sleeves, the front of the torso, and the entirety of the backside. The only exception was the well-pronounced pull of thinned fabric across the chest and hem of the shirt, shaped according to her curves so that the rest of his unbridled imagination quickly overwhelmed him, with the top few buttons purposely left unbuttoned.

Ichika laid with her stomach on his bed, tilting her head with her palm placed to the side of her cheek; the teasing smirk of her lips visible between the gaps of her fingers, as she looked Fuutarou's way. "Better?"

"Y…yeah…" Fuutarou shifted his gaze slightly. At times like this, he wished he could be a better liar. Anything that did not make his face so easy to read. Somehow, she looked even more alluring in just his shirt. He made his way over, sitting on the other end of the bed. He cleared his throat. "Alright, Ichika. I think you've had enough fun, don't you think? Mind explaining things from the beginning?"

"Alright, fine. I wanted to keep it a surprise, but do you remember that shoot I told you about? The one in Kanagawa? Well, it actually was out here in Tokyo. So… I thought it'd be kind of fun to stay in your place. Even greet you when you came home." Ichika yawned. "But you sure did take your time getting here, Fuutarou-kun."

"So that's how it was…" Fuutarou propped his arms behind his back, leaning. He looked to Ichika, relaxing a smile on his face. "Well, you sure fooled me. I didn't expect a thing. Happy?"

"Delighted."

He slowly leaned in for another kiss, which Ichika warmly met. When they pulled away, Fuutarou gathered the words from the sincerest parts of his heart—the ones that felt just right, whenever he was with the one he cherished most. "Tadaima, Ichika."

"Okaeri, Fuutarou." She looked at him, smiling lovingly.

Drops of rain continued to hit against the window, and pelt against the rooftops and canopies of the apartment building. For some time, they sat silently, letting the swirl of thoughts and comfort cozy their space. Raindrop, raindrops. Even the distant thunder offered its own solace, and the two—

"Ah." Fuutarou clicked his teeth. The room had suddenly darkened. "Looks like the storm got the power. Hold on, I'll go get some candl—ow!"

"You okay?"

"I tripped on something. Damn it, Ichika! What are you going to do if I hurt myself because you left stuff all over the floor? I can't see a thing!"

"Sorry, sorry. I'll be careful next time."

Fuutarou rolled his eyes. He made his way to the kitchen using the light of his phone, then returned with a lidded candle container.

"Hey, that one looks familiar." Ichika sat up from the bed, watching as Fuutarou lit the candle. "Are those the ones that Nino got for you? Looks like you've been using them a lot."

"Yeah, they are. They come in handy, especially since the power always shorts out here when it rains."

"So, it happens often. When does it usually come back on?"

"Sometimes a couple of hours. Sometimes not until the next morning. You kind of get used to it." Fuutarou sat back on the floor, leaning his back against the frame of the bed. Ichika laid down beside him, and the two of them watched the dimmed dance and flicker of the candle flame burn. Pleasant, sweet smells burned alongside it, whirling the air in the benevolence of rose and amber, as they both let out a collective sigh.

"How was your movie shoot, Ichika?" Fuutarou asked after some time. "Have things been going well?"

"Mm… yeah, it's been going well. My coworkers have all been pretty friendly, but it's still weird being the youngest one there." Ichika tiredly stretched her arms. "It's been busier as well. We've been shooting from early morning to evening practically every day for the past week. At least the roles have been getting a lot better."

"You're making sure to at least take care of yourself, right?"

"I'm fine, Fuutarou-kun." She looked at him, and the slight crook to his brow seemed to suggest otherwise, but Ichika reassured him. "And I really mean it this time. Sure, the days can be a little exhausting, but I make sure to get my rest. Wouldn't want you scolding me again."

"If you say it's fine, Ichika, then I trust you."

"And how about school for you? Ready for your second year in Tokyo U?"

"Ready as I'll ever be. You kind of get used to the way things are at this point, so the upcoming three years will more or less be the same." He leaned his neck back, letting his head rest on the bed. While he did, Ichika nudged a little closer from her spot on the bed so that she could look down at his face. Her fingers playfully combed and twirled through the lengths of his hair, still carrying drops of dewy rain in its dark strands. The dim flicker of the candle made that golden look in his eyes that much more alluring, and she could not resist planting a quick kiss on his forehead.

"It's been a whole year, hasn't it?" Ichika leaned her cheek back down onto the bed. "You know, with how busy things have been, I don't think either of us realized we missed our one-year anniversary."

"Oh." He paused for a moment. "Is that something people normally do?"

"Jeez, you're hopeless." Ichika drilled another finger against her naive lover's cheeks. "It's a big thing for a lot of couples. They'd go on romantic dates, maybe order a cake to celebrate. A lot of things did happen this year, after all."

Fuutarou closed his eyes. "Yeah… a lot has, hasn't it? So much, so soon. You know, Ichika, I owe you a lot."

"Hmm? For what?"

"For… everything." He reached upward, caressing the sides of Ichika's cheek. The deep sapphire hue of her eyes drew over him, and he felt a sharp draw of breath inside of him, ready to drown in the sea that was her loving gaze. "This past year has been the best year of my life, and I don't think I've thanked you enough. It's still kind of embarrassing to say this out loud, but I'm feeling a little sentimental right now. So… thank you. Thank you for letting me fall in love with you, Ichika."

Ichika's hands slowly drew over the reddening face of her lover, giving them both time to compose themselves. After a few short seconds, Ichika lowered herself so that she may tightly embrace Fuutarou by his shoulders. "You're really the sweetest, Fuutarou-kun. You've given me more than you can imagine, so I want to thank you too. Staying here like this… it makes me wish it could be like this every day. Just you… and me."

The ends of Fuutarou's fingers met with the back of Ichika's hand, holding onto it tightly. He thought of the days that lead up to now; he thought of the future that fulfilled that wish they both carried deep within in their hearts. A special place, just for them. Here in Tokyo. It could happen. "Hey, Ichika. There's something I wanted to ask you…"

Drips of melted wax fell from the curled candle wick. Murky liquid gathered to a pool at the center, dim and dark as the furthest wall in his apartment room.

"…is there something you're not telling me?"

The beat of the flickering candle-light was all that moved within that room. Silent, save for the flooding sounds of rain that had since grown heavier. After some time, Ichika's arms slowly loosened around Fuutarou's shoulders. "You really have gotten better at reading me, huh?" She laughed, a listless air following the words until Ichika eventually sighed. "That really isn't fair. You know I'm not used to that."

Fuutarou looked back. For some inexplicable reason, he somehow knew just when Ichika's heart wavered, no matter how slight it may be. He noticed whenever that look in her eyes grew wistful; when her words harbored a sense of longing behind them. Over time, she may grow to become a better actress and a better liar, but even if she rested upon every laurel her lies reaped, Fuutarou would always have an eye that could see through her.

He asked her, "Am I prying too much into something I shouldn't?"

Ichika shook her head. "No… no. It's not like I'm trying to hide anything. I was going to bring it up sooner or later. You just have a way of keeping me distracted." She crawled herself upright, offering Fuutarou a place to sit beside her on the bed. When the warmth of his shoulders found its place beside her, Ichika continued, "Do you remember Masaki-san? Masaki Yusa? She was the director of The Vermilion Riddle, that one big film I was in over half a year ago."

Fuutarou nodded, and Ichika continued, "Well, then you probably remember that Masaki-san is a former schoolmate of Oda-san, my manager. They attended the same university here in Tokyo. Oda-san knew that for a while, we've been struggling to land bigger roles for me, just like how they were in The Vermilion Riddle."

She pressed a finger to Fuutarou's lips, knowing what he would say. "And before you say anything about that—no, I do not regret a single thing. I've told you that before, and I will always mean it. Everyone involved in that film has since grown a lot more popular—Masaki-san especially. She's considered to be a brilliant director, and she's already directing her next big film. Right here in Tokyo. Oda-san thought it would be the perfect time to offer me up for another job in one of her films. He thought that surely with our connections, I could land another starring role in her films."

There was a strange feeling in the back of Fuutarou's mind. From that delicate way she spoke, it seemed evident that there would be some complications somewhere. He tried his best to find the right words. "Were there some problems with your audition?"

Ichika shook her head, smiling as if the thoughts in her head flattered her. "Masaki-san said that I would be a perfect fit for one of her leading characters. She told me that she owed a lot to me for making her first film a success, and that I was welcome to audition for the role."

"Then, that's a good thing, right?" said Fuutarou. "And if it's here in Tokyo, then that means…"

"I don't know if I should accept it!" The cadence of her last words felt weaker, up to the moments where it suddenly leapt out her mouth, as if the young actress had to force it. She tightly wrapped her hands together.

"Ichika…?" Fuutarou tensed up. That was not the reaction he was expecting from her, especially after receiving such uplifting news, but he now realized that Ichika was looking away from him. Her eyes trailed to the floor, where the ends of her feet huddled closely off the edge of the bed.

"Sorry… just let me finish." She paused, collecting her thoughts. "Like Oda-san, Masaki-san knew that it's been a little difficult for me. She sat with me during that interview. She was the one who directed me in her film. She told me that I was the most promising actress she's ever met…" Ichika took a deep breath. "So, she gave me a choice."

"A choice?"

"Masaki-san could let me audition for the role, or, she could refer me to the Board of Directors to a School of the Arts."

"School of the Arts…? You mean like, get a degree in Fine Arts? For acting?"

Ichika nodded. "It's a full-time, two-year program. A lot of actors don't really need to pursue a degree. It's commonplace that they focus on auditions and building their resume as much as they can, and their work should speak for itself. When Masaki-san said that I could audition for her role, I realized something. I could just keep getting lucky—role after role, I could keep getting lucky—or I can work a lot harder, a lot differently. The institute that she would refer me to has a lot of ties in the film industry, and it's name carries some real weight to it. The acceptance rate is extremely low, and people would do anything for a referral."

"So what did you do?"

"I thought I should let you decide for me." She crawled around the bed, digging her fingers somewhere between the sheets and pillows. Whatever it was she was looking for, Fuutarou could not help but turn an odd eye over her methods of keeping things in place. Though, she had retrieved it timely, and the pink-haired girl handed it over to him. "Here."

It was a letter. A plain, white letter folded into a rather decorated envelope—one with ornately printed letters and careful presentation. Nothing like the bits of mail and notices he casually drew from his own letterbox. No, this one looked as if it were made just for her. Just for Ichika.

And he had taken his fair time looking over the first few words of the letter. It was the same reason he was able to spend so much time on the presentation of the words, and how strangely different it seemed.

It was an acceptance letter—written in English.

"I've… already been accepted into the program," Ichika said. Now, Fuutarou was finally able to look into her eyes and see every detail. Down to every last detail. The clasp of her lips as she forced out the words, and the brim of her eyes that held back tears. "The institute she referred me to is in… America."

All at once, this tiny gap between their shoulders had never felt more distant. It was distance where Fuutarou only needed to reach out with his hands so that he could clutch her hands or embrace her by the shoulders. So undoubtedly close that he only needed to reach out, and yet, he could not find the resolve to move a single finger. If it were like this, what solace would there be between them when it was two different sides of the world?

"To be more exact," Ichika's voice broke him from his short trance, "it would be in California. Isn't that something? Masaki-san has apparently received so much worldwide recognition, she's even made contacts with high-profile people in Hollywood. Did you know that foreign films are pretty popular in the West? It's really… something."

"You want me to help you make a decision?"

"No." Ichika shook her head, an empty gaze settling upon her eyes when she looked his way. "I want you to decide for me."

Fuutarou hesitated before he spoke. "For you? That's… that's an awfully hard decision to put on me, Ichika… This is your future we're talking about."

"Sorry. I know that it's too much to ask from you. I did not want to put this all on you like this, but… I just couldn't forgive myself if I made the wrong decision. If… you ended up hating me because of it…"

"Ichika…"

"Hey, did I ever tell you something about me, Fuutarou-kun?" Ichika huddled a little closer to herself, letting one leg touch the floor as she leaned back. The ends of her cheeks pressed the side of her leg, once again, drawing her gaze downward. "Back in my old school, back in Kurobara, before we transferred to your school. There was… someone else I was really close with there. We met because we sat next to each other in our first year, and she… was the first person I ever told that I seriously wanted to become an actress."

"A close friend?"

Ichika softly giggled, and that smile she turned to Fuutarou playfully mocked his intuitions. "Yeah. She was a 'friend.'"

Fuutarou looked away, turning slightly red at the thought. "S-sorry… I mean, Kurobara was an all-girls school, so I did… not expect…"

"Thinking something naughty?" Again, Ichika giggled. No matter how wistful her thoughts and words grew, there was never a moment where she did not delight in that blushed, innocent look on Fuutarou's face. "But no, it was just something very… short. We were really close friends. That was pretty much the furthest we really got. Up until now, I never really knew how I felt, or what exactly could have happened, because… the five of us ended up transferring schools so quickly."

"At first, she supported my acting. She wished me luck at every audition. She said she thought I was really special. I suppose at the time, and because I had four sisters so identical to me, I was just happy to have anyone thinking I was special. But…" Ichika closed her eyes. "I never realized how hard it was for her. Work became busier, my grades in school were getting worse, and it even became harder to simply text 'hello' to her. It was brief. So brief that if I wanted to forget all of it, I probably could. That's pretty awful of me, don't you think? I never knew how much it hurt her back then, and if I could go back, I would have stopped myself from making that mistake."

"Then… what happened? Between the two of you?"

Ichika smiled an empty smile, looking directly into Fuutarou's eyes. "Long story short, the last thing she said to me was that she hated me. Maybe, for her, encouraging me to pursue acting was her first wrong decision. Maybe, for me, my first wrong decision was accepting her feelings in the first place. I told myself that I should have known better. I told myself that… if I wanted to be really serious with this, then the worst thing I could do is fall in love too soon."

"Fuutarou-kun," Ichika continued, "you said you were at your happiest when you were with me, right? Well, I am too when I am with you. What I feel with you is different than what I've ever felt about anyone in my life, and maybe, that is the same for you too. So… what exactly does that make me, if I were to make a decision that took it all away from you? What if it ended up making you hate me? What if I…"

When words no longer fell from their lips, all that remained was a gnawing silence. Silence befitting the limitless void that was their troubled thoughts, and even if they had every minute to every hour of this tempestuous evening, neither would find resolution when left alone, trapped within their own solitary thoughts.

So, Ichika asked Fuutarou. Within the slowly dimming light of that flickering candle flame, she asked him.

"Wanna call it off?"

She did not need to face him to know what kind of face he was making. She did not want to face him. How wide the look in his eyes must be as he quickly turned her way. How much his mouth opened and twisted, trying to find the right words. Just by the way Fuutarou now tightly laced his fingers through hers told Ichika more than she needed to know.

"I'm joking." Ichika said.

The grip around her fingers tightened.

"I'm joking…" she repeated, again and again. As if she were desperately trying to convince herself otherwise, and she did it in the only way she knew how.

Lies. Lie after lie, Ichika would slowly repeat the words in her head until the words fell off her mouth. It was always easier that way, and surely, if she lied to herself enough times, she would eventually believe it. As many times as she would need to. "I'm… joking…"

But how could she lie, when the tears trailing off the corner of her eyes so easily betrayed her? Why was it always this that she could never get right? "Huh…" She drew the back of her other hand to her face, trying to wipe the tears that would not stop falling. "Why am I…"

"Go." Fuutarou had caught her tears first. The edge of his fingers softly drew a line across the residue of her melancholy, then trailed to his palm as he caressed the sides of her cheeks. Slowly, he drew her head closer to the warmth of his chest, placing one long kiss on Ichika's forehead.

"Hu… huh…?"

"You don't have to ask me, Ichika. The answer should be obvious." He held her by the shoulders so that the hesitant look in her eyes had nowhere to turn to but him. "Go, Ichika. This is your dream, right? Don't worry about me."

"But… I don't want to leave. Not if it means leaving you, Fuutarou-kun. I…"

"Who says it has to be that way?" His voice was filled to the brim with conviction, and no further words could persuade him. "You think I'd just let you decide that all by yourself? After everything? Well, I don't have any plans on giving up. Not on you, and not on us."

"But… it would be too difficult. It's so far away. I can't put that kind of a burden on you."

"It's up to me to decide what is and what isn't a burden to me. You should know that by now." Fuutarou tapped the side of his hand over Ichika's head, as if he scolded her. Though his touch was gentle, Ichika would find any excuse to bury her head against his shirt, letting the tears soak into the cotton. And he would embrace all of it, running his fingers down the length of her short hair, down to her nape, before finally resting on the back of her shoulders.

"I… I don't know…"

"We've already made it this far. With me all the way in Tokyo, and you back home and traveling because of work, we've done alright. I think it will be alright."

"That's different, Fuutarou-kun. You know it's different! Tokai and Tokyo are far, but it's nothing compared to Japan and America! It's not like night and day; it is night and day!"

"And do I care?" He bluntly stated. "How much do you think that matters to me?"

"Well, it matters to me!" Ichika looked up to him, pointing a finger to the tip of his nose. "Do you know why I work so hard? Going past my schedule until the evening, memorizing all of my lines at home, studying so many movies. Day after day, I keep trying my hardest. I do that because… it's one of the only things that keeps me from going crazy because you aren't around. It distracts me from what a complete mess I am inside. I always want to text you whenever I see my phone. I want to call you whenever I have even a single minute of free time. I want to just ditch my job and hop on the next train to Tokyo. I'm a total mess when I—"

Fuutarou placed his hand over Ichika's mouth, muffling her words. What quietened the temper of her thoughts, however, was the gleam of his golden eyes, furrowed to a scowl. "Stop talking like you're the only one who's crazy."

"What?"

"Do you think it's just you? I have to study even harder every day because I can't help but think about you. I keep sneaking glances at my phone during lecture, so I keep missing notes. I want to call you whenever there's a couple of minutes between classes. When I come home and see this empty apartment, I always imagine what it would be like if you were here to greet me home. I want it all so bad, days go by where it just hurts. And I do it all, over and over again."

"What… what's with that? What's with you?" To her own surprise, Ichika could only laugh. She laughed and laughed, until the feeling inside of her stomach turned to a hilarious kind of pain, and the tears welling up in her eyes carried a confused sense of joy. "Then, I guess we're both crazy, huh?"

"I suppose we are." Fuutarou chuckled, and he slowly leaned his back. "I suppose… we are."

"It's going to be hard, you know?"

"I know."

"You'll be falling asleep just as I'm about to wake up. And when I go to sleep, you'll probably be getting ready for class…"

"I know."

"I don't know how busy we'll be that we can talk while I'm at work and you're studying..."

"I know, Ichika."

"and every day, we'll miss each other like crazy. We might actually go crazy..."

"And I'm willing to go through it all, if it's with you." He placed his hand over hers. "Through every single step of the way."

It was probably his first time. The first time he carried those words with so much courage, that— not even the moments after the words left his mouth—no hints of his bashful, flustered self lined his face. Nor did that look in his eyes change as he tightly held onto the back of Ichika's hands. Those simple words, where nothing else mattered. "Because I love you, Ichika."

Ichika slightly turned away, but it was never enough to hide the brightening red of her face, nor the slow swell of her throat as she swallowed. "You'll embarrass me when you say it like that, idiot…" Through all of it, Ichika smiled as much as she truly could. "But I… love you too, Fuutarou."

He let Ichika lean her head once more onto his shoulders, and they drew their gaze back to the dwindling fire. Once again, the thought had entered his mind. Thoughts of the rest of their lives together, and how it all would begin with moments like this.

"However, in exchange…" Fuutarou slowly stood up, making his way in front of her. He stood with both arms crossed, again, as if his position had always been to scold this foolish lover of his. "When you come back here, back to Japan, you'll come here. To Tokyo. To our own special place that we'll find together." When her eyes had fully looked up to his, he extended his hand forward. "Move in there—with me, Ichika."

Deep within her, the beat of Ichika's own heart had never resonated louder. Love, truthfully, was still something complicated for her. At times, it was gentle. It was the shivers that carried the cold winter air, the warmth that soaked with spring. It made the raindrops taste sweet. It made the slip of the puddles as graceful as any dance room floor. Love knew the right and wrong words, plucked straight from a quickly-beating heart.

And Love was a terrible, awful liar.

"Then… make me count the days." Ichika slowly closed her eyes. "Make me suffer every day where I'm so far from you. Make me cry whenever I am all by myself. Make me regret ever deciding to leave, so that when I finally do come back, it will be running straight into your arms and your arms only."

It all had happened so suddenly. Fuutarou felt the ends of his wrists tighten. He felt himself being pulled inward, collapsed to a clumsy position. Warmth of each other's bodies—so close that they could easily mistake whose heartbeats they felt. Sounds of cotton gliding across bedsheets. When Fuutarou had finally looked down, Ichika had already torn away the buttons that held together her shirt. One of her hands was placed beside his cheek, and the other slowly reached for the top buttons of his shirt.

"Ichi…ka…" The words forced out of his mouth. Everything else had already snatched his breath away. Fuutarou brushed his hands beside Ichika's face, trailing down to the messy fringe of her hair as it sprawled against the bed. "Are you… sure?"

Through the blushed confidence that tinged her skin, Ichika nodded. As assured as the endless throbbing of her own heart, she nodded. Confidence that she always dearly held onto, for without it, she was nothing more than a fearful, naive girl, afraid of what it meant to grow up. Her hands reached for the sides of his face, feeling the heat of his skin against her palm. She whispered, "Make me miss it, Fuutarou-kun. Burn every part of you within me so that I can remember. Carve your name right here—into my heart, my body—everything. All of me. Make me miss, and make me long for… all of you."

Their lips met in a single, long embrace. At first, it met slowly, letting the soft touch settle upon the other. When they moved, it would sometimes turn careless, as if they both grew impatient. Or perhaps, they still were hesitant. Nervous. Like it was all one last kiss, reminiscent of every phase of their naive, youthful love. It snatched the breath of the other; it teased the most decadent taste. One final kiss—one last moment to bid farewell to this nameless innocence.

From here, neither of them could rely on experience. They were amateurs. Novices. Through every pull and slip of fabric off skin—all the parts of themselves familiar and unfamiliar—they discovered it all together. It was scary. Frightening. Uncertain and unknown. All they knew was that at some point, they both had crossed a line. And when the first walls crumbled, the two people that lay near-breathless in this dim, candlelit room—surrounded in the unending cascade of the spring rain—would never truly be the same.

She had offered him everything, and he to her. Tenderness, passion, pruriency, complacency. Indulgence in hunger they never knew existed, ravishing their senses until only desire remained. All other words would collapse, diminishing to warm, breathless puffs of every way they could imagine saying, "I love you," that the skin, the flesh, and the eyes did not already tell. They exhausted every syllable, every consonant to every vowel, of the other's name, repeated over and over again until even that began to sound unrecognizable.

A perennial springtide. One that quickly matured confidence and carnality. Where boldness took over the place of hesitance, tossing and turning themselves. She wanted to know just how starved those eyes looked up to her as she straddled over him, fixating his cheek, his chin, and his eyes by the ends of her fingertips. And he desired that look on her face without that arrogant smirk that delighted with every tickle and tease she always pulled over him. One over the other, and back again.

It went from the heaviest downpour to the drips of the dew laden grass. It brought the rain, the thunder, the clouds, and the sun. It was the calm that hushed the heart; the warmth that clasped between their laced fingers. It dulled dreams and hastened time, spilling the late-morning light against the disheveled interlude of their passion. It stirred the awake the first, who dragged herself over the peacefully sleeping face of her lover. She whispered to him the brimming parts of what made her joy. Her smile welcomed him the morning, and his warmth of his embrace kept them just like this.

And so, the rest of the world continued to move. And so too, to the rest of their blissful lives together. And so on and so forth, forever and evermore, said the Springtide.

Author's Note

Quick, someone tell me if I'm supposed to raise the age rating to M or not.

Okay, now where else to begin?

Well, for starters, it looks like 'Everything' has reached its first birthday! °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖° It's really gratifying to think about just how far this story has come since I first released it. I'm not going to lie, spite was a huge driving factor. I'm just so damned obsessed with this awesome quintuplet, I couldn't stand reading the hate she got. Ever since I posted Chapter 1, I've been completely ecstatic by the support I've received for an Ichika story. Almost feels like every A/N is a gushy 'thank you' but this time especially, THANK YOU!

Now, for this chapter I once again went a little overboard with the word length (~12k). I understand if big chapters consecutively can be a little overwhelming and I keep telling myself that JUST THIS chapter needs to be this long—and then I end up tackling many things in a single chapter. This chapter was no different, but I am full-sending it with this ship's LARGEST issue—long distance. I'm pretty sure any reader could have seen it coming, and I did not necessarily HAVE to do it, but it felt right to do. And it turned out a lot better than I expected, but seriously—writing this kicked my ASS.

And so coincidentally with a one year birthday, the story has also progressed one year post-ending. That means there are three years left to cover. I don't particularly like laying out plans for the future of this story in the A/N, but to those who will keep checking back as this updates, I figured it wouldn't be bad to at least lay out some expectations.

Firstly, a lot of major development points was slated for the first year in the story's timeline, so future chapters may take larger leaps down the timeline so that this story eventually reaches a satisfactory ending. Can't keep writing forever, hahaaa. ┐(￣ヮ￣)┌

Secondly, yes, the long-distance relationship has drastically gotten more difficult for the pairing. It's quite a risk I'm going to be taking, but I more or less want to keep development and interactions between the main couple the same as they have been progressing. I will continue to give their interactions the main spotlight, but also, will keep a similar pace to chapters dedicated to the other sisters, as well as other characters. Furthest I can go is to say, hey, it's not like they can't find some time to visit the other, right?

Lastly, I can say that because the past couple of chapters could have been a bit overwhelming, Chapter 12 coming up will try to dial it back a little bit. Give any reader a little bit of a breather, something a lot more lighthearted is all I can really say.

Hm? Oh yeah, I should probably address that ending scene while I'm here. I was actually serious when I said I don't know whether or not to increase the rating. I still am a tad naive to some things about fanfiction (had to do some intense googling, like why people kept calling it lemon?), and I'm still not 100% sure WHAT warrants the T - M rating update. It's a completely normal interaction for adults in a relationship, and I didn't necessarily have to write (or write it the way I did), but well… I have some *ahem* experience writing these kinds of scenes that I could rely on. I wrote with the intention of heavily implicit prose that fades-to-black, hoping to preserve the approachable T-rating. On the other hand, it might not be up to some people's expectations when they see the M-rating either.

Anyways, thanks to those who left reviews on Chapter 10 and any recent chapters—romromkise, Fox McCloude, TheMist33, Living Mirrors, XGoGame, mrknights, , and any guest review(s)! Thanks also to the reddit commenters—Faby777, vonin7, cassethf03, and Miimbot!

Now, where is my rock?

_φ(。。) "Pat yourself on the back. You dedicated your mind to something, and you stuck with it for a whole year. Go get yourself some boba or something idk."