Chapter 6: Tension

Haru walked into the aikido club's room feeling like a complete wreck.

As good as it had been to see everyone yesterday, hearing Ann and Shiho talk about their relationship had hit her a lot harder than she'd expected. There was something about the way they looked at each other, the way they leaned on each other, the way Ann leaped up to hug Shiho when she arrived, the way Shiho just gently touched Ann's face. . . .

There was no other way to think about it, Haru knew. She wanted that. She wanted that for herself, with someone who wanted the same, and she'd hardly been able to think about anything else since. Sometimes it was just an abstract desire, but more often than not she pictured herself having that kind of relationship with Makoto, and it just made her heart ache. If anyone had asked what classes she'd had today or who she'd talked to, Haru wasn't even sure she'd be able to answer them, she'd been so distracted.

And she continued to be, so much that she didn't even notice Kintaro walking up until he was right next to her.

"Hey, Haru – you okay?"

Haru jerked away a little, and blinked up at him. "Oh, Kintaro! How are you?"

"I'm fine," he said, rubbing at the back of his head and looking embarrassed. Maybe he thought he'd snuck up on her by accident. "I was wondering, are you good to start learning something new? Because I think today's a good time to start teaching you some throws."

"Yes," Haru said all at once. Having to focus on something new might help, and if that meant getting to throw someone around, so much the better. "I think I can do that."

"Good, one sec." Kintaro turned and waved. "Jun! Get over here!"

A man taller than Ren and considerably wider pulled himself away from the people he was talking to and jogged over. Despite being so large, Haru got the impression that he was somehow harmless – he immediately reminded her of the 'big guy' in a cartoon she'd watched as a child, though she didn't think she should tell him that.

"What's up, Kintaro?" Jun asked as he approached, then nodded to Haru as well. "Hey, I'm Jun. I don't think we've met."

"Hello, I'm Haru," she said, and bowed just a bit.

"Yeah, Haru's been here for a few weeks, so I think it's time to teach her some throws," Kintaro said. "You good with the basic lessons?"

"No problem, Golden," Jun said, then turned to Haru. "You want to do some warm-ups, then we'll hit the mats?"

By now, Haru knew that Jun was talking about training or sparring, as there might have been a time that she thought 'hit the mats' meant something very different. But she nodded, and adjusted the zipper on her Shujin tracksuit as she and Jun stepped onto one of the mats to warm up. There were times when she wondered if she should get a proper gi like Makoto or many of the other club members, but some part of her still liked wearing the red tracksuit, and there really was no need to replace it yet.

Jun led her through some of the basic warm-ups, and Haru did her best to focus on that. But her gaze kept drifting toward the door. Makoto hadn't shown up yet. She was usually so punctual. So why wasn't she here?

And did Haru really want Makoto here when she was trying to learn something new? Yes. Haru wanted her here no matter what. She did her best to shove that thought aside and regain her focus.

Once they were done warming up, Jun talked Haru through the motions of the throw, the basic stance, and where to grab onto someone for this type of throw. "So to teach you this," he said, "I'll let you throw me, so you get used to what it's like to swing someone around like that. Sound good?"

"I think so," Haru said. "I've just never done anything like this before."

"Nah, you'll be fine," Jun said. He had an easy-going smile, like there was nothing at all to worry about. "I've done this a bunch of times, just follow what I said and you'll be fine. Let's give it a shot, yeah?"

Jun walked her through the basic steps one more time, then had her grab the front of his gi and position herself correctly, then do the motion he'd taught her, and Haru swung him over her shoulder so hard that he hit the mat with a smack loud enough to echo through the entire room.

A silence hung over the club for a second as so many people turned to look, and Haru swore she heard someone say what sounded like 'red oni'. Jun let out a low groan.

Haru clapped her hands over her mouth as she realized what she'd done. She hadn't meant to, but something about the motion of the throw and taking hold of someone like that . . . she'd gone right back to how she'd been in the Metaverse, when she brought her axe down on shadows as hard as she could. And it had felt far too good.

"I'm so sorry!" Haru said, looking down at Jun. "I didn't – I thought I might not throw you properly, so I put some more into it, just in case, and. . . ."

Jun stared up at the ceiling for a moment, then slapped at his cheeks, and gave himself a full-body shake as he got to his feet. "It's okay," he breathed. "But you're a lot stronger than you look."

Haru looked away. "I . . . I might be," she said, unsure what else she could say about any of this.

But Jun recovered quickly, and the two of them returned to practice, with Haru putting him over her shoulder over and over as more people showed up at the club's room. She did her best not to throw him too hard again, but it wasn't easy. Every time, her mind flashed back to swinging an axe, and somehow, the urge to just hit things never went away no matter how many times she threw him.

It was all just pent-up stress and emotion, Haru knew that. But somehow, being here and doing this wasn't helping her get it out like she'd hoped it would. If nothing else, it was making things worse – she couldn't really let it out because she didn't want to hurt anyone, and eventually Makoto would show up, and that would only make all of this more difficult, wouldn't it.

Haru heard a familiar voice, and got her answer right away. She looked over to see Makoto chatting with another club member, clad in her gi as the two of them walked across the room toward the mats. Before Haru could figure out what to do, Kintaro clapped his hands together and called out for warm-ups to begin, and everyone started moving to line up in the usual rows.

And Makoto, of course, walked over to stand next to Haru, giving her a kind smile as she came over. "Hello, Haru."

"Hello, Makoto," Haru said, her voice small. She tried not to look over at her as Kintaro called for them all to bow. That smile of hers was enough to make Haru's insides go all fluttery.

All through the warm-ups, Haru fought to stay focused, to look at the people in front of her, to follow Kintaro's instructions, and to do anything but think about the woman standing next to her. Focus on her breathing, she told herself, then took in a deep breath and wondered if she was smelling Makoto's perfume or if Makoto even wore perfume or if it was just deodorant or if she would have thought it was hers even if she knew what Makoto did or didn't wear. Haru's thoughts ran in circles until they tripped over themselves, and it was all she could do to stay on her feet as the warm-ups got more complex.

The longer they went on, the more slow and clumsy her body felt. The room seemed to blur around the edges, and Haru tried hard to take deeper breaths, reminding herself not to hold her breath during the exercises. But it felt like her mind was truly elsewhere.

And if her mind was elsewhere, where was her heart?

That one was easy. Her heart was with the girl next to her, the one moving through forms and strikes and motions perfectly, breathing easily, like this was the sort of thing she could do all day, no matter what else was happening, like she'd been doing this all her life.

Haru's heart was maybe two feet away and she couldn't reach for it.

This . . . this couldn't be happening again, not so quickly, Haru thought. It had only been a few weeks since Ann had told them all about herself and Shiho, since Haru's old feelings toward Makoto had resurfaced like she'd never buried them – like she'd never failed to even realize they were there. How had she gone so long without ever knowing that about herself? How had she, for weeks, stayed in the same camper van, sleeping in the same space as Makoto every night, without ever realizing that she wanted to be closer?

It was kind of amazing what could happen when she saw a friend discover a new part of herself and realized that she could be the same.

But she still had no idea how Makoto felt. And there was no way to know, not without an incredibly awkward conversation that could so easily lead to her heart breaking again. Haru hadn't been able to tell Ren what she felt for him – that had taken Takakura speaking up on her behalf, without asking her first. And that had ended . . . badly.

The longer this went on, Haru thought, the worse it was going to get, and if she didn't find a way to–

Kintaro called for a turn, and Haru heard it wrong, and she spun left when she should have gone right, and she slammed right into Makoto, sending them both tumbling to the mat.

The collision only shook her for a moment, and Haru suddenly realized she was in fact on the floor, laying atop Makoto, their limbs and bodies splayed against each other. For just a second, she felt Makoto beneath her, and some part of her mind said this felt far too nice for her to move, and maybe she should just stay here for a while.

Then Haru realized what she was thinking and almost flipped herself backward as she tried to get off of Makoto as quickly as she could.

"Mako-chan, I'm so sorry! Are you all right?" Haru looked down at her, trying to make sure she was okay. Makoto's face was bright, bright red. Was she hurt?

Was she red for another reason?

Haru forced that thought down, again, and looked her friend over, trying to figure out if she'd been hurt. But Makoto shook her head, and sat up, breathing hard.

Somewhere nearby, Haru heard someone quietly ask, "How come she gets to call her 'Mako-chan'?"

She'd been calling Makoto that since the beginning, Haru thought. She hadn't even thought about it, it just kind of happened, and she'd thought it was because she was glad to have a friend her own age. She hadn't ever thought it meant anything more. But even if it hadn't then . . . it did now.

Even if now was the worst possible time to realize that.

"I'm fine, Haru," Makoto said. "You just knocked the wind out of me, that's nothing new here." She nodded in thanks as another club member helped her to her feet.

Haru slowly stood, wishing she'd held out a hand to help Makoto up but unsure if she would have been able to let go if she had. That would have been awkward, wouldn't it. As though what just happened wasn't awkward enough. She looked at Makoto, and ducked away when Makoto looked back, then turned to the front again as Kintaro started the warm-ups over again.

Makoto's face was still red. What was she thinking about what just happened? Was there something she wasn't saying?

Stop that, Haru told herself. She didn't need to be thinking about that right now, not unless she wanted to crash into Makoto again.

Though she kind of did. Maybe more than kind of. Or maybe Makoto could fall on her this time–

Stop that, she told herself again, feeling her face turn red. She frowned and threw herself hard into the warm-ups. Maybe she could pass the blush off as exertion.

And hopefully Makoto wasn't watching her.

Somehow, Haru made it through the rest of the warm-ups without running into anyone or embarrassing herself, and when people split off to spar or train, she quickly sought out Jun and asked if he wanted to continue teaching her how to throw. He chuckled and asked if she'd go easy on him, and she said she'd do her best.

Judging by the sound Jun made when he hit the mat again, her best might not have been good enough.

The rest of the club meeting passed without incident, and Haru did her best to avoid Makoto, though she knew she couldn't do that forever. The room was only so big, there were only so many people, and eventually they'd both have to leave and would probably take the same train home, as they often did. Maybe she could find an excuse to stay a little later. That wouldn't be strange, not at all.

Haru sighed, and stepped out to get a drink from the a fountain in the hall. Maybe coming to the club today hadn't been such a good idea. But she did want to be here, and most of it was fun; Jun said he'd teach her how to be thrown next time, so she could get used to that as well, and that was just another step toward more training. She didn't want to lose out on this, Haru thought as she finished at the fountain. But–

"Haru?"

Haru froze, then turned around to see Makoto walking toward her. "Mako-chan, I'm so sorry," she said again. "I – I don't know what happened, I just didn't hear him right and I turned the wrong way, and I didn't mean to-"

"Haru," Makoto said, that familiar calm smile on her face. She met Haru's gaze and held it. "I wanted to make sure you were okay, but you went right back to throwing practice and I didn't get a chance."

"I . . . I should be asking you that," Haru said, definitely not trying to turn the conversation away from herself. "I'm the one who fell on you."

"Trust me, that's not the first time something like that's happened here," Makoto said, and laughed just a little. "This is a martial arts club, people hit each other and fall on each other all the time. I'm fine."

"Who . . . who's fallen on you before?" Haru asked, peering at her. It felt like a strange question, but somehow she wanted to know.

Makoto only shrugged. "I don't know," she said. "It's been a while. But I promise, I'm fine. I've been hit a lot harder than that before."

"Oh. Okay, good." Haru glanced down at the floor, unsure of what else to say. When the silence grew strained, she said quietly, "I just . . . I didn't want to hurt you."

"Don't worry about that," Makoto said. "You're softer than I thought you'd be."

Haru's head snapped up, and she met Makoto's eyes. Makoto's face was bright, bright red again, and she looked like she'd said something she hadn't meant to say.

"I-I'm sorry," Haru stammered out again. "I should get going, it's getting late and I need to get home."

That was a complete lie, Haru thought as she ducked quickly into the club's room and grabbed her bag. She didn't look back, afraid of what she might see on Makoto's face if she did. Some part of her knew there was no reason to leave, it was just something Makoto had said, but she refused to let herself do anything else as she dashed down the stairs.

What had Makoto meant by that, Haru thought as she pushed the athletic building's doors open and hurried across campus, heading toward the train station even though she was tired and sweaty and lucky that she'd even remembered to grab her bag. Had Makoto . . . thought about her like that? About them being in – being close like that?

Had Makoto thought about how soft she would be?

Somehow it seemed impossible, that Makoto could actually be thinking about her like that, and even though Haru had told herself over and over that she had no way to know if Makoto liked girls, something like that could definitely suggest something whether she wanted to admit it or not. And that could mean . . . no, it couldn't.

Could it?

Had she just run away and missed her chance completely?