Chapter 12 — While I Am Gone
Thirty layers of avarice and grandeur. Curtain walls of glass and polished stone erected to a concrete pillar, so imposingly grand that it made any of the surrounding buildings look humble. One long look would quickly tally up the bills and coins needed to call this place home, ascending with every floor until the neck grew tired from bending upward.
It was a daunting, yet oddly fond sight. The Pentagon. At some point, Fuutarou frequented this apartment building long enough to consider it like a second home. Though it had been a while since he last stepped foot inside, he remembered the layout fondly. The furthest room on the highest floor, the arrangement of the furniture and kitchens, and the troublesome girls that lived within those walls. He remembered how quickly both their faces turned to a frown as Itsuki was the first to greet him at the door. He remembered the pleasant scent of Nino's baking, juxtaposed by the scent of charred leftovers that—much to Miku's shame—still lingered in the air. He remembered how loudly the floors rumbled with every boisterous footstep from Yotsuba, and how outright bizarre it was that Ichika was able to sleep through it all.
The thought was somehow amusing to him. To think that there was a time where he wanted nothing more than to be rid of those days. To collect his paycheck in the most painless and quietest way possible. Nothing more, nothing less. Now, however, he could admit a deep-set nostalgia crept up whenever he thought about that lively room on the highest floor. Like a part of him would not mind going back to those days, even if it meant being the reluctant tutor of five ambivalent disasters.
Though, as much as the thought would come and go, there would be some things that would just never change. Some things that he could never shake off—a facet to everything that made them friends and partners. Fuutarou tugged the strap of his backpack, feeling the familiar weight of textbooks and notebooks within.
He pressed the intercom button.
"Hmm?" the voice buzzed from the speaker. "Uesugi-sensei? Is that you?"
It had been a while since Fuutarou was last called that, and admittedly, he was still not used to it. "Yeah, it's me. Is that you, Ichika?"
"Take a guess. You can't tell from my voice alone?"
Fuutarou sighed. "I'm not playing this game with you. If it isn't you, Ichika, then can you let her know that I am here for our study session. Either way, just buzz me in, will you?"
"Boo. You're no fun." The voice behind the intercom laughed, and Fuutarou realized a little too late that the voice was definitely Ichika's. "Fuutarou-kun, do you mind waiting out there for a bit? I'm still getting ready, so I won't be able to open the door."
"Getting ready? It's already past noon. Can't one of your sisters let me in?"
"One of my sisters? Oh! About that. The rest of the girls are out right now, so it's just me here. Itsuki and Nino just went out so you'll probably run into them. They can probably let you in. Anyways, I need to go back up to my room and get dressed. I won't be too long, I promise!"
"So I'm supposed to just stand out here?" Fuutarou groaned. "Come on, I had to walk all the way here. Will you just let me in?"
"Fuutarou-kun, I should tell you that I'm still in nothing but my towel. Unless, maybe that's the reason why you're so eager to hurry up here? And after hearing its just me here?"
"Ichika—!" Fuutarou cupped his hand over the speaker, but it was already too late. The older couple behind him, that had so coincidentally approached at that very moment, could only offer an averted chuckle to the flustered boy in front of the building. He could not remember the exact look on their faces, as his eyes had already turned to the ground when he stepped away from the electronic podium. "S-sorry…" He politely bowed. "Go on ahead."
Fuutarou knew better than to try again. If what Ichika said was true, then there would be no one to answer the intercom. So, he decided to wait. At the very least, it would give him some time to go over the day's lesson plans.
Sway of the verdant leaves formed to disheveled shadows over his opened notebook. His hand slowly glided over the notebook paper, feeling the slight crinkle of the old pages underneath his fingertips. Red crosses and circles decorated the papers, and the impatient tutor could only shake his head as he looked at the neatly written name above—Nakano, Ichika.
Before Fuutarou knew it, a whole month had already passed. That was the short amount of time the acting institution had given Ichika to prepare for her study abroad. As much as the thought pained him, the most he could do for his partner was to be supportive in the way he knew best.
Tutoring. Instruction and guidance. Across that vast ocean, a whole new world awaited that immensely talented actress he proudly called his girlfriend, and the tongues they carried uttered words they could barely comprehend. They would have their work cut out for them. So, for five nights a week and the past four weeks counting, Fuutarou and Ichika had spent their evenings buried in books and practicing spoken conversation. After all, Ichika's English skills could use all the help it could get.
And today marked their last study session. An in-person session, when everything prior had only been through video chat.
"Well, speak of the devil," a voice interrupted his short nostalgia. Walking through the front entrance, Fuutarou noticed that Itsuki and Nino had just stepped out of the building. "Good afternoon to you, Fuu-kun. What are you doing sitting out here? Shouldn't Ichika have let you in?""
"Ichika was busy with... something, I guess." Fuutarou tiredly stretched as he stood back up. "And you two are looking well. Headed somewhere?"
"Shopping," Itsuki replied, tugging the strap of the tote bag by her shoulder. A rather large one at that, fit for carrying plenty of things. They both had one. "We've got a lot to do in preparation for Ichika's going-away party. We'll be making her favorite: Shiokara."
"…the squid has been fermenting in the fridge for the past month now." Nino crinkled her nose at the mention of it, and admittedly, Futuarou did the same. Raw fish was something he could never stomach, and not even after Ichika coaxed him into giving it a try on some of their dates could convince him to change his mind.
Itsuki looked between both of their faces, raising a curious brow. "Oh come now, you two. How can you not be excited? Shiokara is so delicious, especially when Nino makes it, and it's been a while since we've made some!"
"Because, Itsuki, the last time we did, we couldn't get the smell out of the fridge for weeks." Nino sighed, brushing the ends of her hair with the back of her fingers. "But if it's for Ichika, then I suppose I don't have a choice, do I? We already went through all the trouble preparing it."
She then pressed a finger to Fuutarou's chest, an impish smile forming on her face. "And you, Fuu-kun, are going to eat every last bite we give you, got it?"
"If it's for Ichika," Fuutarou repeated her words, trying his best to hide any hint of reluctance.
Itsuki noticed the last of Fuutarou's books as he was packing up. "Studious as always, aren't you, Uesugi-kun? Are all of those just for English studies?"
"Yeah. All of what we've covered this last month."
"Sometimes I forget how passionate you can be about studying. I mean, look how thick those books and notes are! No wonder Ichika has been looking so dead tired lately." Itsuki remembered the time from many months ago, when she was once again his student, and promptly shuddered at the thought. "Imagine having to suffer through an entire month of those lessons. Day after day… the torture… Poor Ichika."
Fuutarou rolled his eyes.. "I could do without the sarcasm, Itsuki. Besides, you should have seen her conversational skills when we started. It was for her own good."
"Ahem." Nino crossed her arms. "Are you forgetting who else was helping Ichika with her English while you were too busy? Don't think you could get away with taking all the credit."
"Wouldn't dream of it, Nino," he replied. "You really knew your stuff. Thanks again for helping us out." As someone who had previously tutored her, Fuutarou was more than familiar with the second quintuplet's strengths. English so happened to have been her best subject in school, and he did not hesitate to enlist her help. Nino's keen interest in western media and entertainment provided not only a wealth of linguistic knowledge, but also a brief understanding of things no textbook could simply outline. Social scenarios, applied conversational skills.
Nino's favorite cooking shows provided long commentaries across a set of skills that already piqued her interest. Over time, Nino would find herself following along recipes without the need for subtitles or pausing for translations. Social media and travel bloggers provided a glimpse in the modern lives of those who lived overseas, and the cultural differences between America and Japan. Before they knew it, Nino and Ichika had carried the majority of their interactions in the recent days speaking only in English. Of course, there was an extent to how much they could learn that way, but Fuutarou could only take pride in both of their initiatives.
"Well, I don't know a whole lot about it," said Itsuki, "but Ichika does sound like she's improved a lot. So, good job. To both of you."
"Thanks," Fuutarou replied. "Anyways, I think I've given her enough time. Could either of you two please let me into the building?"
"Sure thing." Nino said. "You got it, Itsuki?"
"Yeah. Right this way, Uesugi-kun." She drew the apartment keycard from her wallet. But before she let him in, Itsuki covered the metal slot with the palm of her hand and then turned towards Fuutarou.
"Something the matter?" Fuutarou raised a brow.
"…just studying, okay?" Her voice came off as a low mutter, a little too quiet to understand.
"What was that?"
"You're here just to study, okay?" Itsuki repeated. "I meant it. You better show some responsibility while you're here. Ichika has a lot going on right now. She needs to stay focused and no… and no goofing off!"
Parts of Itsuki's face had turned a touch red and it looked as if she could hardly look him in the eyes either. Fuutarou could not tell where and when that all had come from, but at this point, he just wanted to go inside. "Y…yeah? Isn't that why I'm here?"
"Good." Itsuki nodded, and then nodded again. With a single wave goodbye, their old tutor had disappeared through the doors and into the Pentagon. From there it was no more than a short ascent through the elevator, where Ichika patiently awaited.
As Itsuki returned, Nino stood with a bend to her hip, raising a brow. "What was that all about?"
"Ugh!" Itsuki ruffled her hair, as if it could somehow shake thoughts. "I can't get that stupid thing Yotsuba said out of mind!"
"'That thing Yotsuba said?'"
"You know… what she said a few weeks ago? When Ichika… visited Uesugi-kun at his apartment?" Again, Itsuki recklessly shook her head. She remembered that shriveled 'Ehhhhh?!' that rang through their apartment that Saturday evening. She remembered the bewildered look on Yotsuba's and Miku's faces as she quickly marched down the stairs, asking if everything was alright. Something Itsuki would soon come to regret ever asking them. "T-t-that kind of stuff isn't any of our business. Now, all I can think about is if those two are all alone and—"
"You're over-thinking things again, idiot." Nino tapped her younger sister on the head. "Come on, we got some shopping to do. So just drop it."
"But, I mean, if Uesugi-kun and Ichika… well if he ever… if she ever… you know, if—t-then wouldn't that… wouldn't that basically mean Uesugi-kun saw all of us—"
"I said—" A sharp coldness encased Nino's words, and the glare in her eyes dared Itsuki to try another word. "Drop. It."
Itsuki quickly clasped her lips shut, nodding apologetically. They continued side by side down the street in silence. Though they had already dispelled the conversation, neither Itsuki nor Nino could hide the muddled thoughts that flushed a rosy tint over their cheeks. Perhaps it was because they were quintuplets. Perhaps there was some invisible, inexplicable force that left answers to questions neither of them wanted to ask. At times like this, it was best that they distracted themselves with their scheduled errands, and any other intrusive thought could be set aside afterwards.
Thirty floors higher. After a short journey through the lobby and elevator, Fuutarou found himself in front of the familiar doorway. A brief shimmer of gold traced the edge of the nearby name plate, where the name, 'Nakano', was illustriously etched. Through the notch of every bold letter, Fuutarou lightly ran his fingers through as to fondly remember the days past, before ending with a press of the doorbell.
The noise was faint, but he could hear the sound of footsteps approaching the door, followed by a playful sounding, "Coming!" as she neared. Nothing out of the ordinary as far as he was concerned. That was until his ears picked up a peculiar detail. There was an odd heaviness to the footsteps behind the door—sonorous, as it echoed within the doorway. It was like the sound of a flat heel clattering against the floor, but what reason would there be for Ichika to wear shoes just to answer the door?
He could not spare a single second more on the thought as the door clicked open. "Sorry for the wait!" Ichika answered in English. A playful smirk curled between her cheeks as she saw the slow realization on her tutor's face, from the dull look that always painted his face, to the slow widening of his golden eyes as he looked her up and down.
Stood at the doorway was a sight as well as he remembered it, though, the thought of seeing it outside of his memory stirred desires he never knew existed. Ichika was wearing a black blazer with white piping along the edges, collar, and pockets. Underneath was a white button up shirt with the topmost button purposely left unfastened, tucked into a green skirt that ended a few centimeters short of her mid-thighs. Around her waist was a thin yellow sweater that trailed a little further past her skirt. And ending past the long length of her exposed legs was a pair of white ankle socks fitted into dark brown loafers.
Asahiyama High School's uniform—their old school uniform.
And the longer Fuutarou continued to stare, the more he realized just how perfectly it still fit her.
"Aren't you going to come in…?" Ichika's smirk grew wider. The glimpse of the unbuttoned parts of her top grew more tempting as she leaned forward, her voice growing more coquettish as she drew closer. And only now did Fuutarou realize that his mouth was slightly held agape, as Ichika had lifted up his chin by the tip of her finger. "…Uesugi-sensei?"
"I-Ichika! Why are you—" Fuutarou's first thought was to look over his shoulder, as if he were somehow doing something wrong.
"Ahh… so you actually are into this kind of thing, hmm?" Ichika winked, placing both of her hands over chest. The look in her eyes narrowed as if picking apart the places on her body where the flustering man had laid his gaze longer. "Naughty boy," she said in English.
"Ichika!" Fuutarou blurted again, although this time, his voice broke a little under the sheer embarrassment. It felt as if steam puffed out of his ears the more he babbled his words, but nothing that left his mouth made any sense.
"Oh, that's right." She cleared her throat. Her hands quickly seized him by the wrist, drawing him closer to the whimsical scent of her perfume. "I mean—Uesugi-sensei."
The door shut behind him.
There was hardly any room to protest as Fuutarou found himself stumbling over his own feet the further he stepped in. Ichika had a deathly grip on his wrist, as if refusing to let go even if it meant breaking it. "Hold on, hold on!" Fuutarou hollered, but he was so easily ignored. "Ichika!"
They entered the living room. At some point, Ichika had nudged him ahead of her so that she may strip the bag from his back. Slams of the heavy books within sounded as the bag was tossed aside. And Ichika was hardly finished. Step after clumsy step, Fuutarou stumbled until he finally tripped over his heel—or rather, he was pushed. He fell backwards onto the soft cushions of the couch, all the while hearing the playful giggles that followed after him.
Climbing after him.
Ichika's thighs wrapped tightly around by his sides, promptly seating herself against his lap as to stop him from squirming. When his eyes drew upward, the first sight to snatch his gaze was the ravenous, desirous look in her sapphire eyes, and the quick lick of her lips as her hand pressed down against his chest.
For a single moment, the look in her eyes changed. When the shove of her hips forced an indecent groan from her lover's lips; the same moment a sudden jolt up her backside straightened her upright, instinctively making her tuck her elbows into her ribs.
Narrowing her gaze, Ichika drew closer to him. She realized right then and there, how easy it was to tell which parts of him could and could not lie. She felt the honest parts of his body. Her fingers slipped past the collar of her shirt, slowly tugging the black strap of her bra. "I've always dreamed of doing this with you…" Ichika amorously cooed, "…Sensei."
The look in Fuutarou's eyes grew the widest it had ever been. Thoughts raced quickly through his head, and the more he dawdled on the words, the less his body wanted to resist. To feel the weight of her body against his. The limitless desires that grew from the short days they had spent apart. Her hands guided his to wrap around her waist, and he so easily let her. For some inexplicable reason, the name called out from his mouth, "N… N-Nakano-san—!"
And so suddenly, a distant crack followed by a carbonated hiss turned their blushed stares cold. It had come a little further behind them—from the kitchen counter.
A can of matcha soda, cracked open by the tab. And the quintuplet that had been innocently standing there the whole time.
"—Miku!" they both yelped. They turned to her, then back to themselves, then back to Miku, and scrambled off of each other. Ichika stepped back onto her feet, straightening her skirt with a nervous laugh. "I-I thought you… I thought you already left!"
The can of matcha soda rattled between her hands, spilling a little into the tin rim. "I-I-I…." The flustered quintuplet eyes darted and swirled, turning everywhere except for the obvious display of intimacy in front of her. If only it were that easy for Miku to ignore, as she crudely sputtered, "I… forgot something, so I came back. Uhm… I c-called out to you, but I think you were showering and ahh… I was…" It looked as if Miku had remembered what the cold can she had been holding the entire time. "This! I wanted to get this before going back out! Matcha soda!"
The third sister stood there for some time, holding her soda as if presenting to an audience. Silence was all that filled their space, drawing awkward breaths from their opened mouths. For some reason, Fuutarou felt as if it were his responsibility to speak up. He stood back up, holding up a hand. "H-hey, Miku. It's been a while, huh?"
He casually took a step forward. As soon as he did, Miku took a step to the side. Cautiously. "Uhm…" said Fuutarou. "Mi—"
"I should get going!" Miku blurted out. "S-sorry for interrupting! I'll forget I saw anything!"
"Wait!" Fuutarou reached for her hand. "It's not like that! We were just—"
Miku inhaled a sharp breath as she felt his tight grip around her wrist. "It's okay, it's okay! It's… it's normal for couples, right? You're just about that age. Ha… ha…"
"I was just messing with him, Miku!" Ichika quickly joined in, wrapping her fingers around the same hand Fuutarou had grabbed. "Honest! I thought it would be funny to see how Fuutarou-kun would react! We both know he wouldn't have the guts to do anything like that, right? He's Fuutarou-kun, after all."
Fuutarou snuck a sideways glance, but he at least knew that now was not the time for rebuttal.
"No, no, no." Miku nervously shook her head. With every step she took towards the door, the more she had to struggle to worm her way out of their combined grasp. "It's quite alright. I… I mean, we've been knowing for some time now."
"You what?" Ichika's poor attempt at a softening laugh would put any actress to shame, yet she continued to dissuade her younger sister, "What are you talking about? You girls are just so—"
"On the phone," Miku interrupted. "I mean, Yotsuba and I… overheard and we thought… well, you know, you seemed a little... different when you came back..." Miku did not bother to finish the thought. Instead, she took advantage of the slow confusion on both their faces to slip her fingers away. Her face had grown a few shades redder. Before any of them could say another word, Miku tugged her headphones over her ears and quickly made for the door, apologizing one last time. "S-sorry! I'll forget I saw anything!"
"Miku—!" they both called after her, but she was already out the door, leaving the two of them alone in the apartment.
For a while, Fuutarou and Ichika stood in silence. Slow, hesitant silence. Every passing second warped the look on their faces, drawing palms over their faces, fingers strewn their hair, and deeper shades of red from ear to ear. The first to finally speak was Fuutarou, muttering under the fold of his fingers, "I hope you're happy with yourself, Ichika."
"M-me?!" Ichika quickly raised her tone. "I was not the one who was making weird noises!"
"Weird noises?! Well I am sorry that not everyone expects to be handled in that kind of way out of nowhere! How could you not have known Miku came back home?!"
"I was in the shower! And don't act like you weren't getting into the little roleplay too, Fuutarou-kun. You even called me 'Nakano-san' at the end." Like it was instinct, Ichika had inched closer to him. Her cheek nudged closer against him, trailing one finger down his chest. The reddish tint that still lingered at her cheeks, however, was slow to follow her initiative. "You were just about ready to take control, weren't you? Just what were you planning on doing to this poor, defenseless student of yours? That is no good at all, Uesugi-sensei."
"Please… please just stop." He sat back down, burying his head into his palm. The ends of his ears and cheeks felt scorching hot, like he could shrink and deflate from existence. "I don't know what came over me. Please forget I said that. And besides, you said it yourself—you were just messing with me. Like you always do."
"Hmm? Are you sure about that?" Ichika sat down beside him, pushing her shoulder against his. "We're alone now, aren't we? Maybe if you grabbed me and threw me onto the couch, we can pick up where we left off..."
Their faces were close. From where she sat, Ichika could pick apart every detail of his face that reacted with the suggestiveness buried in her cadence. She snatched a quick kiss from his lips.
Stiff. Unprovoked and unchanged. When they parted, all that was left was an empty feeling. Like something had been snatched right from where they stood. A forced cough escaped Fuutarou's mouth as he looked off in the distance. "The mood is… umm…"
"…kind of dead, huh?" Ichika chuckled.
"Not like we should have done anything, anyway." Fuutarou sighed. He picked up the bag that was callously tossed onto the floor and brushed the dust off the fabric. "Did you seriously go through all that trouble just to get a reaction out of me? We're supposed to be studying today."
"You'll never know, now will you?" She mischievously grinned. "And it's always, always with the studying-this, studying-that, when it comes to you, isn't it, Fuutarou-kun? Come on, we've been at it almost every night for the past month now. You finally get to see your cute girlfriend all dressed up just for you, and all you want to do is study?"
"More or less." Fuutarou plopped a notebook onto the living room table. The strict look on his face was a lot harder to take lightly when they finally saw each other in person, as Ichika would soon remember. "A month was hardly enough time to get you to a basic conversational level. If we just had more time, we could have opened up the advanced textbooks."
"Oh come on! I've been working my butt off here." Ichika groaned. "Can't we just take it easy today? Can't that be a going-away present from the world's most wonderful, most handsome tutor? I even made sure my sisters were all out. Just for us."
The thin end of a notebook lightly tapped the top of Ichika's head. "So that was it, huh? I should have guessed you would eventually try something to escape a study session. Very slick of you."
"Ha ha..." She nervously shrugged. "You caught me. Am I getting that sloppy.?"
"I had a hunch, I suppose." Gently, Fuutarou patted the short length of her hair, pleasantly laughing to himself. "I just remembered how much trouble you were as a student. How many times do you think I had to work around your schedule, just to get you to sit down and study? Some things don't ever change. But, you should know by now how seriously I take studying, Ichika. Now that we're in-person I can make sure you are not slacking. Now, sit up. We got a lot to review."
Ichika gave a halfhearted sigh, then smiled. "Some things don't ever change, huh? Alright. Fine. Give me your absolute worst."
Hours passed at the flip of a hundred notebook pages. From the old, error-ridden test papers of their second year at Asahiyama, to the final chapters of the last English textbook. The two of them—no, Ichika—had come quite a long way in the stretch of a single month. Nothing as far as complete fluency, but impressive all the same. Words of the foreign tongue had assimilated with her own, confident in every phonetic that trailed off the tip. Whenever the strict tutor would recite a question, the hard-working actress answered back with equal prowess.
"…pleased to meet you. My name is Nakano Ichika."
"…how much does this bottle of water cost?"
"…excuse me, which way is the nearest bus stop?"
"…I would like a check, please."
"…sorry, I do not understand the question. Could you please repeat that?"
"…it is 4:47 pm."
"…where is the restroom around here?"
"…goodbye. I will see you tomorrow!"
"…thank you! I am truly flattered, but I already have a boyfriend. There. Are you happy? You should see the smug look on your face right now."
A warm, amber light drew lengthy shadows across the apartment room. Their final study session had carried well into the afternoon. Fuutarou returned from the kitchen, carrying two cans of coffee. "Alright, we've made good progress. Do you think we should focus on…"
His voice slowed as he rounded the couch. Resting with her head dipping to one shoulder, Ichika looked as if she had suddenly fallen into a peaceful sleep. Strands of pink loosely fell over her face, and the soft, steady beat of her breath urged Fuutarou to cautiously sit beside her. He could not help but feel a little guilty. It was not as if he enjoyed being this strict. It was just the way he always knew how. Now that the thoughts had finally settled—the last of their days they could spend just like this—all that remained was a permanent sense of longing. Like he had already started counting the days.
Fuutarou gently brought Ichika down to her side, letting the exhausted actress place her head onto his lap. "Was I a little too hard on you?" Fuutarou muttered. He brushed his fingers through the ends of her short hair. More of his lover's peaceful expression revealed with every strand he pushed away, and he never noticed how long he had sat there, completely breathless.
"Sorry…" Fuutarou whispered to her sleeping face. "You've been working your hardest, Ichika. I know you have. You're always doing your best in everything you do, and I… I wanted to take this as seriously as you take your acting. Now that I think about it, I probably got a little too carried away, didn't I?" He continued to softly brush her hair. He could not help but continue to dwell on the memories they shared in this room. "What was that you told me before, Ichika? That a good tutor should praise their students more?"
The distant sunset grew dimmer as his eyes trailed to the balcony. He looked to the parted clouds and the orange skies that spilled light into their room. He looked to the colorful party streamers that hung over kitchen counter, to the decorative banner that boldly read—'Good Luck, Ichika!' with a doodle of a winking face. Trays of food and drinks lined up on the dining room table. Balloons puffed and scattered across the floor.
And beside the wall, Fuutarou saw the line of packed yellow suitcases and luggages.
"There's just never enough time…" Fuutarou continued tenderly. He brushed a few strands that covered her ear. "Ichika. You're going to knock them all out over there. I know you will. You've always been the one to shine brightest, but you also got to remember to take good care of yourself too. Make sure you fix that terrible sleeping schedule of yours, and always make sure you get enough to eat. Don't worry, everything is going to be great. I'll be right here, wishing you luck. Everyday. Every single day. And… I'm proud of you, Ichika. I am incredibly proud of you."
"Fuu…tarou-kun…" Ichika lightly stirred in his lap.
"You were still awake?"
Ichika weakly nodded, neither lifting her neck nor opening her eyes. "…while I am gone… watch over the rest of them for me, okay? Itsuki… Miku, too. Nino… and Yotsuba… They're good girls, and they're trying their hardest too, and I… can't help but worry about them. Their big sister... won't be around for a while. Take… good care of them. For me…"
"What are you saying at a time like this?" Fuutarou sighed. "Always being the oldest. Always worrying about others… aren't there things you should be worrying about yourself first?"
"I know, I know…" Ichika drearily muttered. "But… do you promise…?"
Fuutarou leaned his head back, slowly closing his eyes. "I promise, Ichika."
Author's Note:
Yup, still rated-T here (¬‿¬ )
And to think I actually wrote a chapter that stayed within 5k words! And only about 200 of them was actual studying! Not too bad considering I started writing this chapter a little later than usual (right after coming back from AnimeNYC—could you believe that there was hardly any QQ merchandise there? Took me two whole days to find a single Ichika keychain!) I was considering on extending it, since I'm pretty close to breaking 100k words, but it'll have to wait for the next chapter.
As mentioned earlier, it was nice to think of a more relaxed chapter after HOW many large chapters? It's almost about that time to send Ichika off on her own journey, and what more fitting way than a scene that takes it all back to the beginning. A teacher and their troublesome student. Unfortunately though, there will not be a chapter dedicated to the little going-away party that was mentioned outside of the Pentagon—it will be briefly covered in passing during the next chapter. Ichika's got a flight to catch!
Anyways, thanks to those who left reviews on Chapter 11 and any recent chapters—Kaien1123, PrimeZero, XXAlter, Quintaphract, Fox McCloude, Faf1, TheMist33, Rosalina, Random Reader Guy, Bob19248, Chloetuco, Mayoi Tensei, XGoGame, Gautam Girdhar, and any other guest review(s)! Thanks also to the reddit commenters—vonin7,AnimusFoster748, sledgendairy, ayosuke, TeamNinoo, cassethf03. Wow, there were a LOT of you guys this time! Thank you!
With all that said and done, see you all in 2022!
_φ(。。) "I swear you're THIS close to straight up writing smut. Do I need to bring out the bat?"