1

You were everything to me, from the very moment you reached down your hand, and I extended mine up to grasp it, you became my soul.

My little wrist, bony and fragile, suddenly felt warmth in your humble grip. A tug for help up off the muddy ground inside the wrecked hut I shivered in, with strength not too tight as if to pull me along without a choice, and not too loose as if to tell me I didn't matter.

As fingers slid into mine, and I felt what it finally meant to have someone care, the murky darkness that loomed over me from being abandoned, with only one smile, you shattered that world, and birthed me into a new one.

My wings spread wide.

Years past, and like a swift wind, I found myself aside you. Your beautiful long hair always in my sight; I had memorized every inch of who you were. That down-to-earth, shy person I came to realize, did not allow me to walk in shadow, but instead welcomed me as an equal force.

We researched together; my talent never ignored. You didn't put yourself above me, and I returned by never putting myself above you.

Freshly fourteen, I overheard you. A man had come to the run-down research lab that we called home. He was from the academy.

Hiding behind the door, I was so unsure of what was happening, startled to see another person. We don't often have visitors.

Not letting you sign the papers for me to attend Totsuki High until you answered his questions, he'd cornered you verbally, and I could tell through the crack in the threshold that you were on-edge, trapped.

I wished in that moment that I could have saved you, for I know how much you hate being put on the spot. But, I couldn't. This man was important, and it involved my future.

Watching your face change, my chest was in my throat as you spoke. Feeling my face go numb, I realized: You felt the same way about me that I felt about you.

It didn't hurt at all to hear the words, instead it shook my foundation.

You voiced you were no mother, a sister, or even a mentor, only a friend.

But, what made me run away was when you started to cry, something I have never been able to bear. You told him you didn't want to tell me what to do, that you felt you were forcing me to be your assistant.

I went to lie on the grassy hill outside, and there I let my thoughts wander. I told myself the truth: That you were wrong Jun, so wrong.

I'm with you, because we share common interests. I assist you because I care about our research.

It's not obligation, rather, its adoration.

You would never make me do something I'd never want, and for that, I'd never force you into anything either.

When I was fifteen, that's when I started carrying you in my arms.

I had gotten stronger; I'd taken an interest in lifting and running, and for good cause, because I just couldn't take it any longer.

You have such a terrible habit of overworking yourself, stuff strung out over the floor, and are always asleep in the middle of all of it. I know that you were there for hours while I was at school, studying, trying to draw lines between this spice and that history.

Even though petite, the first time, it was hard for me. You were heavy, but as I packed you up the stairs, and I felt you curl into my chest, exhausted, that feeling alone spurred me forward to want to do it more.

Once I took off your glasses, and put shaggy bangs behind your ear, you smiled sweet, rolling over to let those brown eyes drift off into a dreamy abyss.

You knew it was me that had brought you to your soft bed.

You trusted me, and so I trusted you.

From then on, I vowed to be the only person who would do this for you. I pursued, wildly chased harder workouts, so when those days came and went, I could lift you with ease.

At the tournament finale, Ryo and Soma were tough competition, but I knew you were watching from the sidelines, and that granted me strength.

And so, I won.

Hayama Akira was announced loud, I launched a fist in the air, and I saw you jump up from your seat to sprint out onto the stage, eyes welled with crystal tears.

I was so unable to manage; your image always moving me. We were the best pair.

At sixteen, I'd prevailed for you, the head director rejoicing that my dish was the one that had the most depth, that mine was the one that showed the most purpose.

It was because that plate represented our unique relationship, so overbearingly, that as you were telling me how happy that you were, how proud, that I couldn't help but grab you up suddenly.

Taller than you, my right hand went around your waist. It shot a bit too low, and my left one; across your back to steady your pounding chest.

My inspiration, for a few seconds, I let myself delve in its richness, to feel you in front of everyone.

The crowd response was a shocked exasperation, and going from relaxed to tight, you shouted: 'Huh? What gives Hayama-Kun!'

I had no choice except to let go. I'd gotten carried away hugging my muse, my artistic expression in cooking.

Even as one of the pre-lim's judges tasted my food, and after, begged me seductively to come away with her, boasting she'd compensate me the highest wage, instead of accepting, I bent down and gave her a piece of my mind, finding her offer grotesque: 'No.' I said concise and resolute. 'I fight for Jun.'

My win left me understanding.

I was in love.

Who my existence pulsed for, who lit it alive, was you.

No woman could ever do for me what you had done, and what you continue to do to me.

If a heart could have form inside a body, it would be in your shape.

My only want is for you acknowledge me as a man. Not as a child.

Then maybe you'll truly see 'me'.

I am no longer your Hayama-Kun. Patiently, I wait for your lips to say 'Akira'.

Time cannot phase my racing breath, even with twelve years between us, I do not care. All I consider is letting myself remain quiet, until I can know if you feel anything for me.

I will never force your hand.

Even if rejected, I will let it be, because I cherish you to a depth where your happiness is more important than my own selfish desires.

But for now, my jealousy runs free, only because I see you as mine, until the day you tell me to my face that you're not.

Until then, I'll come to visit you up on this mountain. I'll hide away with you.

And, even if you don't feel the same, I'd still beg you to let me stay.

I'll battle for this position aside you, for as long as I am alive.

But, how better it'd be if you were to love me.