one-shot; twenty-one days apart
pairing: aizawa kosaku/shiraishi megumi
word count: 2040 words
note: was originally a ficlet, and then it wasn't anymore. More notes at the end.

It's a strange feeling, not seeing Shiraishi at the hospital, not seeing her at Emergency, not seeing her in her flight suit, jumping into the Heli and saving lives. Fujikawa is the one chairing the morning meetings now, arranging the roster and everyone's responsibilities as the interim staff leader, and Aizawa is still not quite used to seeing the orthopaedic surgeon in a role that is so essentially Shiraishi's (even as he grudgingly admits that Fujikawa is handling it well).

Shiraishi had been sent to Perth, in Australia, to attend a medical training program centered on Emergency Medicine, and she would be there for three weeks (twenty-one days exactly). She had been gone for three and a half days now. No, Aizawa isn't counting the days; he wouldn't do that, because that would be ridiculous, it's just…a realisation. An observation.

He feigns disinterest when Hiyama talks about her, but he's listening carefully. Perth is beautiful, not that she's seeing a lot of it, because her schedule is long and hectic, but she's enjoying herself, and she's learning a lot. He could almost see her sitting in the lecture hall, typing furiously, writing down every single word that's being spoken, detailing everything neatly in her laptop or her notebooks.

Once or twice, Aizawa finds himself typing a message to her, but he never manages to send one, because he's constantly interrupted, a phone call, an emergency situation, all of that, and he forgets after that. But he does think about her, his phone burning in his pocket, and he tells himself he should really send her a message, ask about her. One question (how are you). One phrase (hope you are well).

He finally succeeds in sending her a message on the sixth day – how are you – and she replies eight hours later, at six o'clock in the evening. He smiles to himself as he reads her message, a long explanation filled with apologies on the late reply – being who she is, she had kept her phone tucked away in the duration of the conference, only taking it out when the day has ended. She's well, she's fine, thank you for the message, Aizawa-sensei.

He doesn't think he'll continue sending her messages, now that he's heard from her personally that she's well, but he does. He sends her three messages the next day, and six messages the day after next. He's engaging in conversation with her on the ninth day (he might as well just admit it; he's counting the days), at seven o'clock in the evening, both their phones lighting up in succession, with her eating cup noodles in her hotel room, and him eating sandwiches in the hospital's staffroom. It continues on the tenth day, when she's preparing her presentation and he's writing Natori's performance report. And it just goes on, their messages to each other, back and forth, day after day.

On the thirteenth day, he's on the phone with her, phone tucked between his ear and his shoulder as he pulls out his scrubs from his locker, and she's having a drink at the hotel bar. He cautions her about her drinking – you know how you are when you're drunk - and she laughs and promises him that she's only going to have one glass of wine. He believes her, because Shiraishi never lies.

It isn't anything deep really, their conversations. She tells him about what she has learnt, the lectures, the procedures, about meeting other emergency specialists. He updates her about the hospital and the interns, assures her that Fujikawa is doing a great job as her stand in (because he knows she worries about Lifesaving, even if she says she doesn't). And their exchanges are not long either, he's never been a person of many words, and she's usually tired after a long day. They're just…enough. It's enough for him to know that she's okay.

But Aizawa wants to say more. He forms the words, and the more personal questions, on his phone, as he writes to her - are you sleeping well, please remember to eat, please don't tire yourself too much, please remember to rest, please take care of yourself – and there're so many other things that he wants to say to her, but he doesn't say it. He'd start typing the words, and then he deletes them. He'd start asking, words on the tip on his tongue, and then he stops himself. Because he knows that it might translate to her as I care about you, and this is me saying it – and that is where he hesitates. Acknowledging his feelings isn't something that he is fully prepared to do, after all. Maybe he's scared (but probably not, because Aizawa is never scared, has never been scared)

(except that he is)

It's somehow easier to disregard his feelings towards her when she's around him. With her gone, he has come to realise that in all their years together, they had never really been apart for more than a weekend, a couple of days at most. He may have spent seven years in Neurosurgery, but still he had managed to see her for all the days he was in the hospital – in the hallways, in the emergency room, in the cafeteria. Therefore, it's kind of strange, not seeing her, and he feels it very strongly, both her absence and his feelings.

On the sixteenth day, Aizawa realises that he misses Shiraishi. He's sitting in the cafeteria, one of the rare times he's sitting with the others. Fujikawa and Hiyama are trading barbs as usual, while Saejima eats her lunch calmly. He eats his ramen idly, barely paying attention to the sound and bluster around. As he's sipping his tea, his eyes lands on the chair beside Hiyama, the chair that Shiraishi usually occupies. And the thought just enters his mind, unbidden, and without warning.

I miss her.

It's sudden, but at the same time, it's so obvious. She's one of the constants in his life after all, and it has been sixteen days without her. And he knows it now, and feels it; he misses her presence, he misses her.

(when had that happened? how did he not realise it when it was happening?)

Aizawa nearly says it on the seventeenth day, as he's sending her a message – good night, please sleep well – and he's starting to type it, I miss…and then he stops, glancing at his screen. He swallows once, and then he swallows the words, deleting them, because he doesn't feel ready to put it into words. He hasn't nearly come to terms with it himself, the fact that he misses her a lot, after seventeen days apart. It's hardly any time at all, in the scheme of time and distance, and yet, this is the way he feels.

(he wonders about her, and her feelings)

He doesn't tell her on the eighteenth day, nor the nineteenth day. It's exceedingly busy in Emergency and Lifesaving on the eighteenth day and the nineteenth day, flight after flight, surgery after surgery, and Aizawa barely had time to send Shiraishi the usual message. He doesn't have the luxury of time and space to ponder about her, about him towards her, and her towards him. It's shoved towards the back of his mind, and he has to be okay with that.

The twentieth day passes, and she'll be home, back in Japan the next day, and there's no need to tell her that he misses her when she's coming back, so he doesn't say it.

(maybe he's still not quite ready)

Aizawa briefly contemplates going to the airport, but he thinks it's too big, and too grand a gesture. Sometimes he finds it difficult to define it, this thing between them. They're colleagues, friends, and yet that's not all, at least, not to him. There's something else there, he knows. He's always been courageous (cutting off an arm, cutting into a brain), but somehow, he can't find the courage to acknowledge this, his feelings, for once and for all.

What does it really mean, to miss her as much as he does after twenty-one days apart?

(he knows the answer, feels it beneath his skin, and he just needs to be brave about it)

Shiraishi rushes into the hospital the very next day, approximately thirteen hours after she steps off the flight, even though Tachibana had asked her to take another day off. Aizawa knows she wouldn't, so he's right there, waiting for her, as she hurries into the staff room.

He sees her running in, still looking the same twenty-one days later, dressed in an outfit he had seen on her, countless times, with her short ponytail, her face with that familiar, slightly panicked expression because she thinks she's late – and it's Shiraishi, standing there before him, like she had never left. And then Aizawa finally defines his feelings, for once and for all, because he knows, it's clear as day, and there's really no use trying to tell himself that he doesn't know.

He wants to go up to her, and pull her into her arms, and tell her everything that he now knows, how it took twenty-one days without her for him to know his feelings, to clarify them, when it comes to her, but he doesn't. It's not the time yet.

"Ah, Aizawa-sensei!" She says, a bit breathlessly, her cheeks flushed from running, and he wonders whether has she always been this beautiful, and how come he's only realising it now.

"Welcome back," he says calmly, and she smiles at him.

"It's good to be back," she answers, putting down her bag, and pulling out her stethoscope.

He opens his mouth, intending to ask her about Perth, about the training program, about the paper she had written and presented, but he didn't ask her, the questions that he had in mind. Instead, he tells her that he missed her.

"I missed you."

(it's out there, out in the open now, and he can't take it back, and suddenly, he's not scared anymore)

Shiraishi's still looking for something, rifling through the files on her desk, but she heard him, as she absent-mindedly replies, "I miss all of you, too," and continues searching without a glance at him.

Aizawa stands up and walks towards her. He hesitates for precisely one second, and then he places his hand on top of hers, momentarily stopping her search. She looks up at him, her face confused, and then she glances at his hand on top of hers. But she does not pull away, and he feels the warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips.

"Shiraishi," he says, his eyes locked on hers. "I missed you."

While you were gone, I missed you. I really missed you.

Her eyes are wide as she looks at him, and he watches as realisation dawns upon her. She's not nearly as dense as everyone says she is, he thinks. Or perhaps this is too direct, too obvious, that even someone as clueless as her is able to understand it.

He waits, watching her, heart beating, as she remains silent, looking at him with those eyes, eyes that he could easily drown himself in if he allows it.

It almost seems like an eternity later, when Shiraishi smiles at him, a true, heartfelt genuine smile that reaches her eyes, and Aizawa feels his heart lifting, unravelling, just a little. She turns their hands over, so that she's the one holding his hand, fingers linking around his.

"I missed you, too, Aizawa." The meaning behind her words are clear, as clear as his had been. She missed him when she was in Perth; she had missed him a lot.

The corner of his mouth curves up in a half-smile, his hand tightening around hers, as it all changes between them. And yet, it somehow remains the same, because it's still them, as it has always been.

It doesn't take another twenty-one days apart for him to tell her that he loves her. And when he finally says it, when he finally enunciates the word (and the emotion, his emotions, his feelings) – love -, she tells him that she loves him, too.

A/N: Role reversal of Aizawa leaving (for Toronto)? At least that was how it started off in my head, anyway. Somehow it's always a struggle for Aizawa to articulate his feelings when I write him, but at least I always (kinda) get him there in the end.

This was intended to be a thank-you ficlet (200 reviews for glimpses! I'm ecstatic!) but it ended up being a thank-you fic, I guess. Thank you all so so SO very much for every single review and every single read. It's been a little over two months since I started writing for this fandom, and I have enjoyed every moment, reading and writing both.

Reviews and comments, as always, are love, and also fuel for writing. Thanks for reading, you have my eternal gratitude! 😊