Disclaimer: Don't own. Sad, but true.

Warning: This is long. Very long.

I apologize for the OOC-ness, similar styles of writing, etc. etc. etc.

Please review! It would mean a lot to me if you did. :D

oOo

The first time he tells her he's in love, she finally understands what it's like to have your heart shatter into a million pieces. Of course, she doesn't realize why it hurts so much until much, much later, when the choking and the tightness and the desperate urge to stay strong, to not let him see, passes and leaves her empty and alone, huddled under the covers to fight off a coldness that comes from within.

She's known for almost forever how she felt (and still feels) about him, but it took that one time—that first confession—to make her realize how deep they truly were. For the first time in her life she's glad that he's such an Ahou (with a capital A, mind you) that he doesn't realize the knot in her stomach, the pain in her throat, and the shimmering of tiny tears behind briefly closed eyelids.

But she hasn't survived this long for nothing, and all it takes is a little gulp of air and a slight reminder from her subconscious to turn up her acting skills for all the signs to disappear, to vanish forever from his sight…so he can't take her apart and study her, and ask her what's wrong like she knows he will (he's always been such a good friend), because then she'll have to tell him (she knows she won't be able to say no to him…she never has been, really) and if he knows, then…

If he knows…

If he knows, then it'll only be a matter of time before she's rejected, in the nicest way possible (because he will never try to hurt her)…but it will still hurt. And no matter what, Kazuha doesn't want to feel that hurt. Doesn't want to walk around in a daze, staring through empty eyes. Doesn't want to quietly leave the room when Ran laughs as Kudou-kun pulls her close. Doesn't want to look at him and know that it'll never be, that 18 years of loving and wanting and wishing were all over in less than a second, less than that split-second decision of his.

Because no matter how lovely the stories paint it, childhood friends were never meant to be. She knows this…and yet she can't help loving him anyway. The way he carries that baseball cap around like there's no tomorrow. The way he leans against the doorframe, with his hands in his pockets, asking her if she wants to go out for a while. The way his eyes sparkle whenever he's presented with a fresh case.

So when he tells her (in Heiji-appropriate terms, of course) he's fallen in love with Haruka, all she wants to do is to shout to the sky and scream at him that he's HER Heiji, that he's HER best friend, that no one else is allowed to come along and steal him from her. That no one else will understand him better than she already does.

But she doesn't.

Instead, she congratulates him, compliments Haruka, asks him when he's going to ask her out, and swears to God that if that girl so much as hurts a single hair on his head, she will find and destroy her.

oOo

The next day, she gets up reluctantly, silently, softly. She doesn't wail about it in public and cry her eyes out—no, she is far too controlled for that, and she won't, however much she wants to.

Her father would be ashamed.

A new case was brought in. It's big. Had to run. I left breakfast in the microwave. Enjoy! Love, Dad.

The note sits innocuously on the kitchen counter, almost lost in the haphazard pile of pots and pans and chopsticks that litter the entire dining area. She is stunned at the mess until she remembers she was too drained to clean up the night before.

Kazuha strides over to the microwave, a little bit curious to see what's inside. Most of the time she's the one who prepares breakfast; it's got to be unusual if he took the time to leave something for her.

It's a cream cheese bagel, with a little innocent caramel pudding sitting nearby.

Kazuha sighs as she realizes that he must've gotten it from the foreign import store just around the corner: the one with extremely high prices and tiny portions. But that's not the only reason she can't be as happy as her father would like her to be—she knows that, what with the fanciness of the breakfast, he won't be back for days, weeks, maybe even months.

The sudden chime of the doorbell startles her out of her thoughts, and she rushes to get it, almost tripping over a chair in the process, in the hopes that it'll be her father, telling her that it was just a false lead and that he really wasn't going to leave her all alone and why was she so worked up about it?

It's Heiji.

Kazuha's heart plummets as all the feelings she had begun to press down suddenly bubble up with renewed vigor. She pastes on a smile and hopes she looks convincing.

Heiji may be dense, but he's not an idiot. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asks softly, concern filling his eyes.

Those beautiful green eyes…

She shakes herself out of dreamland and laughs half-heartedly. "Nothing. Just that Dad left on a case again."

Heiji shrugs. "Well, that's his job."

Kazuha looks away and bites her lip. I know it is.

He takes a step forward. "Hey, look…I didn't mean it that way. I just assumed that…you know, well…" He pauses and scratches the back of his head awkwardly. "…that you would be used to it by now."

Kazuha opens her mouth to argue, but closes it again. There's no use burdening him with her worries when he's so happy.

He must be, because there's no way Haruka could say no.

Kazuha hasn't missed the way half of the school's female population follows Heiji's every move like sports fans watch television, and why shouldn't they? He's smart, athletic, motivated, and far too handsome for his own good.

(Not that she would ever tell him that; he's too much of an aho to need his ego inflated even more than it is.)

She swallows. "I'll be okay."

He nods uncertainly. "So…can I come in?"

Kazuha blushes when she realizes that she's been blocking the doorway for the good part of five minutes. "Yeah." She moves to get him something to eat. "Have you had breakfast yet?" she calls over her shoulder.

"Don't worry about it. I already ate," he calls back.

She stops in her tracks. Heiji always comes over on Saturday mornings to eat her breakfasts. It's become a little unofficial ritual of theirs, a brief time of silence and peace when both parties are too drowsy to consider arguing. "You did?" she says back, trying to keep the note of hurt out of her voice. (Because he'll take advantage of that. He'll tease her, and she doesn't want to be teased about something she cares about that much.)

"At the coffeeshop. She said yes," Heiji says shyly, not quite able to keep the smile off his face.

It shouldn't hurt as much as it did—still does. She saw it coming. She knew it would happen.

Kazuha bites her lip so hard she draws blood and tries not to cry. Not now not now not now…

She bustles around the kitchen, making tea for both of them just so she won't have to go out there and face him—not when the pain is so fresh and real. "Did you have a good time?" she asks, trying to keep the unnatural strain out of her voice.

"Aho, of course I did. Would I be smiling if I didn't?"

"I guess not," she replies smoothly, and that's the end of that. For the next few minutes, they chatter about meaningless and trivial things: the color of Watanabe-sensei's new wig, who's dating who, which celebrity's kid has the weirdest name…all things she says half-heartedly and doesn't remember.

In the end, she takes the tray of tea out, hoping that he won't notice the way her arms are shaking and how her eyes have acquired a peculiar gleam.

"Thanks," he says quietly.

She watches him, eyes roaming over his dark, tanned skin, his strikingly green eyes, the smooth shadow he casts against the wall in the weak morning light.

Her best friend, who will never be hers.

"Hey, 'Zuha, are you sure you'll be okay?" he asks suddenly.

"I-" She's momentarily shocked speechless by the fact that they're actually having a normal conversation, one without fighting or screaming or yelling or hitting. "What makes you say that?"

"There's just something off about you. You haven't been acting like yourself for a while."

Her eyes widen. He noticed?

"Aho, I may not be the brightest guy in the world when it comes to feelings, but I notice, okay?" he says offhandedly, as if he hadn't just read her mind.

"I told you, it's nothing."

He stands up, and Kazuha notes, not for the first time, that his height gives him an unfair advantage over her. That and the fact that she's hopelessly in love with him.

He takes her hands gingerly and runs a hand across her cheek to wipe away the remnants of a stray tear. "Is it because of your dad?"

She can't move, can't think, can't breathe; all she can hear is her heartbeat going Ba-Boom Ba-Boom Ba-Boom. And it hurts more now. She laughs inwardly at the old cliché that fits her situation perfectly: so close, yet so far away.

And in that instant, all she wants to do is to yell at him, like she always does. Like he always does. She wants to scream at him that, yes, her dad is part of the reason, but it's all because of him.

All because he had to go out and announce to her that he was totally and completely infatuated with Shimizu Haruka.

All because he had to go around acting all out-of-character, because he had to tell her about being in love with someone—the old Heiji would've never been in love with someone. In fact, she wasn't sure the old Heiji knew anything about love except that maybe it was occasionally a motive for murder.

The old Heiji would've argued with her. Insults and yelling, kicking and dodging. That was the rhythm of their friendship. And right now she wants nothing more than to go back to that pattern, even though she had wanted to leave it days ago. Because even though arguing means that she'll never be his (not in the way she wants to, at least)—she can still pretend there's a chance for her. For them.

For Hattori Heiji and Toyama Kazuha.

For those two names that 3rd grade Kazuha had carelessly inscribed in a heart on an old oak tree in the park when he wasn't looking.

For those two people that 7th grade Kazuha had dreamed of growing old together.

For those two people that 10th grade Kazuha had thought would fall in love with each other.

For those two people that Kazuha now realizes, with a sickening crunch, never existed in the first place.

"I'll be fine," she whispers hoarsely and pulls away from his grasp. It's hard, oh so hard, but she does it anyway. She goes into her room, locks the door, and slides down so her head is resting in her knees.

She hears his footsteps follow her sudden flight from his presence and stop on the opposite side of the door she's leaning against.

"Hey, Kazuha! I'm sorry—heck, I don't even know what I did wrong, but I'm sorry! Just let me in, okay?" he pounds on the door.

She feels the vibration down to her toes and doesn't reply.

"Oi, Kazuha!" He pounds one last time and then stops. "Kazuha, what's wrong?"

In her room there's a tiny crack near the door, where someone could peer out at whoever's trying to get in. Kazuha goes there now; she doesn't know why, but she wants to see him, even when he's just on the other side of the locked door.

He's standing there, arms limp and useless at his sides, staring at her door with such anguish that she almost opens the door right then and there. I didn't know he cared that much…

He's just raised his hand to knock again when a sharp, metallic sound penetrates the silence of the morning. Heiji alternates between looking at the door and at the caller ID on his phone, torn.

In the end, he answers the call. "Haruka?"

She says something, and Kazuha stares intently at a small china doll perched on her desk, anything to keep her from thinking about her current situation.

"Right now? I'm kind of busy. Can this wait?" Heiji turns away, brow furrowed in thought. "Okay. Give me a few minutes. I'll be there."

He turns back and raises his hand again…only to lower it a few moments later. Kazuha feels something deep down in the pit of her stomach: Regret? Anguish? Anger? Jealousy? She doesn't know.

He looks back at the closed door one more time. "Aho, feel better soon," he whispers, and then he's gone, gone, gone, and this time Kazuha knows she won't get him back.

oOo

On Monday she tightens her hands into fists and turns away as Heiji walks down the hallway with Haruka, eyes shining, with an arm loosely wrapped around Haruka's waist. The jealous glances shot at Haruka by Heiji's fan club don't go unnoticed by Kazuha. She simply sighs again and realizes for the millionth time that her best friend is a very, very popular man.

Heiji stops when he sees her and gives her a hearty wave. "Aho, you better wake up before Ohayashi-sensei catches you sleeping in his class!"

She sputters indignantly and returns the jibe out of habit. "That's my line, aho!"

But this time, he doesn't start arguing with her. He simply grins and pulls Haruka away with him.

After school, she waits for half an hour until she realizes that, for the first time since elementary school, Heiji has skipped their twice-a-day walk together.

She later hears that he stayed to practice kendo, and Haruka stayed to watch.

She could, of course, go to Heiji and watch with Haruka like she does whenever she learns he has practice—go to Heiji, that is, not watch with Haruka. Because whenever she goes to watch, he always seems to win, and she likes to think that she's helping Heiji and her omamori. Today, Kazuha decides not to. It's not her place to interfere with Heiji's girlfriend.

She knows she should hate the girl, if not mildly resent her, but somehow she isn't mad at Haruka.

Haruka's made Heiji smile more in two days than he does in a week with Kazuha, and no matter how much she wishes that Heiji loved her instead, she can't bring herself to dislike her.

She made him happy—happier than I could ever make him.

So she lets him go.

oOo

A few days later, Ran calls her and asks if they could come over to visit them in a few weeks. Kazuha replies with the usual pleasantries ("Of course! We'd be happy to have you!") and the talk then descends into mindless chatter about Ran and Shinichi and how they're doing.

It's only a few minutes before Ran notices that her Osakan friend isn't as cheerful as she normally is. "Kazuha-chan? Is there something wrong?"

Her mind tells her not to, that it's unfair to burden Ran-chan when she's just barely gotten Shinichi back; and that Heiji's only on his first girlfriend, so why talk at all?

Her heart ignores her mind. "Heiji's dating. It isn't me." Her voice is flat, devoid of any emotion. (She has no more tears left.)

The bluntness of the words takes her aback, and it shocks Ran, too. The silence on the other end lasts so long that Kazuha is considering hanging up.

"Kazuha-chan…" Ran says softly, as she would to a wounded animal.

All of a sudden, Kazuha finds something wet on her cheek and an overwhelming desire to end the phone call. "Ran-chan?" she says shakily. "I'll call you back later, okay?" Without waiting for an answer, she hangs up and buries her face in her hands.

Ran wouldn't know what to say. It really wasn't her fault, either—she was so happy at finally being reunited with Shinichi, and Kazuha just had to taint her happiness. Self-loathing threatens to overwhelm Kazuha. Why can't I just be happy for him?

Because you're selfish. Because you love him, a voice tells her.

For the first time in her life, Kazuha wishes that she had never, ever met Heiji. The feeling collects in her throat and leaves her with a sudden longing for ice cream.

She gets out a pint of mint chocolate chip and settles down to watch some primetime dramas.

It's the usual stuff they always show—affairs and amnesia and love and love triangles. Kazuha's just about finished her ice cream when the secondary character finishes encouraging the female lead to accept her best friend's confession.

Kazuha chokes.

The secondary character has just finished waving to the female lead and is struggling not to cry with a sad smile on her face. That's when the best friend comes out and says that he's loved her all along, and that it was all just a ploy to get her attention. They kiss.

Kazuha reaches for the remote control with a vengeance she didn't know she possessed and turns the TV off with a sharp click. Stupid dramas. It's never going to happen.

oOo

Six months later, he comes stumbling through her front door at 3 in the morning, whispering her name so loudly it's a miracle her dad doesn't wake up.

"What are you doing?" she hisses through clenched teeth when she wakes up, hair an absolute mess to find him shaking her in her bed.

"I-Kazuha, I just-" he mumbles, stumbling over the words.

Kazuha sits up and finally gets a close look at the boy she grew up with. There are dark circles under his eyes, and his face carries a weariness she didn't know he was carrying.

"Heiji, what happened?" she says, eyes softening.

He lies back on her bed and tucks his arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling. "She broke up with me."

Kazuha feels her fists tighten and fire blaze through her veins. "She WHAT?" she snarls. Doesn't the girl know how lucky she is?

"She said it wasn't working. The whole 'it's not you, it's actually me' thing?" He swallows slowly. "Well, she pulled it off pretty well."

Kazuha counts to 10 to calm down. "Heiji, look at me," she says.

He turns his head, eyes full of grief and hurt and confusion.

"It's not your fault," she begins quietly. "It's not your fault at all. You guys just didn't click, that's all. That doesn't mean she never loved you, or that she hates you, just that, for a variety of reasons, she feels that staying with you will hurt you more." She pauses and tilts her head to look at him.

He's listening, even though his eyes are staring at the same china doll Kazuha stared at all those months ago.

"She just didn't feel she could make you happy anymore. That's why she left." Her voice breaks on the last word, and she realizes just how close her last sentences were to her own slow disappearance from Heiji's life.

"Did she tell you that?" he asks after what seems like an eternity.

Kazuha hesitates. There had been only one question she had expected him to ask, and this wasn't it. "No," she says.

"Then how do you know?" It's an honest question, not a challenge, and that's what unbalances her carefully-controlled emotions.

"I-I don't."

He studies her for a moment, then looks away. "I trust you." He leans back into the pillow.

"Hmm. Get some sleep, aho. Test tomorrow." Kazuha feels herself just drifting off when a rustle of the sheets alerts her to Heiji's abrupt leave.

"I'd best be gone before your father gets out the shotgun," he teases.

It's something pre-Haruka-Heiji would have said.

She smiles.

oOo

Within weeks he has a new girlfriend, strolling through the halls with him. Her name's Kaoru, Matsuyama Kaoru.

They break up two weeks later.

Then comes Higashiyama Reiko, Yuminaga Mieko, Fujita Hazuki, and countless others that Kazuha doesn't bother to remember.

All she knows is that he has someone.

It's not long before Satoshi-kun asks her out. Kazuha knows he likes her, has been expecting it, really. But she says no.

The rumors begin that she has never really gotten over Hattori-kun; but, of course, Kazuha dismisses them as simply rumors, and nothing else. Why would she have to get over Heiji when they had never been together in the first place?

When she declines Kokawa-kun, Kouyama-kun, and Aoki-kun, however, the rumors run rampant, and nothing she says or does prevents the girls in the hallway from whispering when she walks past. Look, there's the girl who still loves her best friend.

Years later, Miyazaki-kun, her former lab partner, dares to ask her, and she finally says yes.

They're at a nice restaurant, romantic even, but somehow Kazuha can't quite enjoy the candles and the perfume that wafts through the air. In her dreams, this is where Heiji would come storming through, fuming that she had a date that wasn't him.

She laughs now at those silly thoughts—rather, it would probably be her storming in to take Heiji away.

Miyazaki-kun talks to her about past events, baseball, and swimming. She finds herself zoning out and fighting to keep her eyelids open while sawing away at the steak, attacking it with an improperly held knife and fork.

Miyazaki-kun is a nice guy, for the most part, but Kazuha doesn't blame him when he stops talking and outright demands to know if she still loves Hattori-kun.

Kazuha stands up, pays the bill, and leaves with a quiet "I'm sorry."

That night, she goes home and cries herself to sleep.

oOo

True to her word, Kazuha does eventually call Ran back—nine months after their last phone call. It was a trivial subject, really, just that Kazuha had seen someone on the news that looked like a lady from the hotel they stayed in when she and Heiji and Ran and Conan-kun had gone to the beach.

Ran doesn't waste any time in asking if she's okay. It's just like her, caring and considerate and worrying herself sick over other people's worries.

"I'm fine," she says for what seems like the thousandth time. In the background, Kudou-kun calls to Ran—something about the stove being on fire?

Kazuha hears a sharp intake of breath, and then Ran's voice, breathless and telling her to wait just a few minutes.

In the background, pots and pans bang together and something sizzles as water is poured onto it. "SHINICHI! HOW HARD CAN MAKING MISO BE?"

"I'm sorry…"

"SORRY DOESN'T REPLACE MY POT!"

Kazuha laughs at the fact that mild-mannered, even-tempered Ran does have a wild side. There's a last audible bang.

"Ow," Shinichi complains a few seconds later.

Ran harrumphs and berates him for being an idiot who only thinks about cooking when solving a case of poisoning. "Sorry, Kazuha-chan," Ran-chan says to her. "Shinichi was just being a tantei otaku, as usual."

"That's why you love me!" Shinichi shouts back to her teasingly.

Kazuha knows Ran is blushing. She clears her throat. "So, Ran-chan, when are you guys going to get married?"

Kudou-kun stutters. "SHE IS NOT MY GIRLFRI-oh wait, she is now," he says sheepishly into the receiver.

There's another thwack, and Ran is talking to Kazuha again. "Do you want to come to Tokyo soon? Shinichi says that he hasn't seen Hattori-kun in a while, and that's maybe the reason the murders are so much easier to solve."

Kazuha forces a laugh. "We'll see." That is, if Heiji has any time to go with me to see you when he's so preoccupied with…what was her name again? Yuriko? Yukiko? Yumeko?

"You better bring him soon," Shinichi says. "I haven't seen you arguing with your husband in a long time."

Kazuha freezes. Ran hisses something furiously, but the damage is already done. Half a year earlier, she would have been fine with this. It would've been normal. (But it's not.)

"Kazuha-chan, I'm so sorry," Ran is saying. "I-I just…it's all my fault. Really. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she says after a while. "I have to go anyway."

She hangs up to Shinichi's apologies and Ran's helplessness and wishes she had never called.

oOo

They end up heading in entirely different directions: Heiji as a detective like he's always dreamed to be, and Kazuha as an elementary schoolteacher. She isn't surprised when he gets a scholarship to nearly all the prestigious schools; after all, that's part of who he is, and she respects that. (She always has.)

She is in her early twenties when she receives an invitation in the mail. Curious to see what it was about, she opened it.

She later wishes she hadn't.

It's an invitation to his wedding.

She supposes that she should be happy to be getting the news of his marriage a full day before the press catches on, but she isn't.

(She refuses to admit the fact that she might still love him.)

Ran, married and pregnant with her second child, tells Kazuha that Heiji won't force her to go if she doesn't want to.

She goes anyway.

oOo

It's a lavish occasion, and Kazuha knows he can afford it. If possible, even more people are dropping dead in bizarre ways for him to solve. (It's cruel, but true.)

The cake is six-tiered and chocolate and mango flavored, with generous amounts of whipped cream. She wonders where he ordered it and guesses with a shrewd smile that one of his clients must own a bakery or something like that.

She's picked a green ensemble today, in a striking forest and leaf hue that changes as the light hits it. A round neckline shows off just enough skin, and the puffy, fairy-tale like sleeves are comfortable and soft. She tells herself that she's not wearing it because Heiji had hinted once that she looked good in green. (She is.)

As she wades through the crowds, she finds people she hasn't seen since her high school days, nearly all married or dating or about to be married. She stops to chat with one of her few female friends, and for a moment she forgets the occasion and is lost in trifling gossip about long-lost friends.

Until he walks in and calls her name.

She stiffens. That voice, that same voice that she hasn't heard in so many years, that same voice that she's missed so much and so often…

She spins around.

He's grown even taller, and the boyish features of his teenage years have all but disappeared. Only his eyes are the same: happy, excited, and ready for a challenge.

Is it possible for a person to get more handsome? she wonders.

He rushes forward, and in a display of affection totally out of character, swoops her into an all-encompassing hug. "Hey, I missed you, aho," he whispers into her ear, and she smacks his shoulder affectionately.

Just like old times.

"You better not be hitting on my fiancé!" a woman's voice laughs, and Kazuha and Heiji double over with laughter from the weak pun.

Kazuha steps back, arms suddenly bare and cold without Heiji's body heat, and takes a look at the woman for the first time.

She's glowing and flushed prettily. Her hair falls to her waist in long, dark curls, a look that Kazuha has tried to accomplish and failed to do so. Her eyes are a striking blue, and her face is delicately shaped.

No wonder he fell for her.

The woman extends a hand out to Kazuha. "You must be Toyama Kazuha, Heiji's childhood best friend. I'm Kouno Reika."

Kazuha raises an eyebrow at Reika's hand but shakes it anyway.

"Reika was raised in England," Heiji adds. "London."

Kazuha feels a pang at how easily they call each other on a first-name basis and immediately squashes that feeling. Of course they should be familiar with each other; they're getting married, after all.

"Pleased to meet you," Kazuha says in her best English, and both Reika and Heiji laugh. Switching back to Japanese, she asks if they communicate in English or in Japanese.

"English," Heiji says at the same time as Reika says "Japanese."

Kazuha smiles. "So, it's both, huh?"

Reika nods, and Heiji pulls her closer to him. She whispers something into his ear and Heiji leaves her to attend to something else.

It's just Kazuha and Heiji's fiancée now.

Kazuha speaks first. "You really do love him." It's phrased as a statement, but it's really a question. Are you good enough for him, or are you just going to break his heart?

"Why say that?" Reika asks softly.

Kazuha bites her lip, voice shaking and desperately trying to stay calm. "When Heiji gets up in the morning, m-make sure t-that you—that you don't leave anything in or near the kitchen, b-because he'll eat it without regard to what it is or how long it's been there and then he'll complain. On weekdays he'll usually just settle for onigiri, but on weekends he likes to have European food and occasionally porridge. If it's porridge, then make sure it's the type with pork in it. He loves meat."

Reika widens her eyes slightly.

"And whatever you do, make sure you don't touch his baseball cap. He loves that thing to pieces, although I don't know why. Don't turn off the TV during a game or he'll sulk for weeks afterward. When he runs off to solve a case, go with him so he'll have someone to pay the bill when he's hungry and realizes he forgot his wallet. He likes eggs mashed in rice and the occasional bowl of chicken soup when he's sick, but don't give him applesauce." She pauses for air. "He hates applesauce—and oranges. And whatever you do, make sure his toothbrush is on the right side of the sink. He'll throw a hissy fit if it isn't. And-"

Reika smiles and cuts in. "Kazuha-chan, Heiji really does have many quirks, doesn't he?"

Kazuha is mildly embarrassed at rambling for so long. "I'm sorry, it's just that I-"

"It's okay. I'll try to remember everything you said, especially about his toothbrush."

"What about my toothbrush?" Heiji cuts in, and they all laugh again.

oOo

They exchange vows and kiss.

Kazuha runs outside, finds a good, nice, maple tree, and cries tears that she never knew were still there.

oOo

She hears footsteps and knows that he has found her. "What?" she asks, face red and blotchy. "I just got a stomachache, that's all." The lie isn't convincing, even to her own ears.

"Kazuha…"

"I'm sorry!" She bursts into tears.

"Kazuha, what-"

"I'm sorry that I love you!" She finally forces out. Maybe it's something to do with the fact that she knows he's really out of her reach now that gives her the courage to say what she does.

There is a heavy, awkward silence, punctuated only by Kazuha's muffled sobs.

Heiji's eyes are as big as moons. "You…love..me?"

Kazuha stands up and turns to leave.

He grabs her wrist. "You've always loved me, 'Zuha?"

She glares at him half-heartedly. "You heard me. I don't expect a reply. So let me go."

"Kazuha, I'm so sorry-"

"It's okay. It's not your fault you never loved me back." And it really isn't.

"I just thought…with us being childhood friends and all…"

"It's okay. Leave me alone. You should be with Reika."

"'Zuha, I-"

"I"ll just stay here for a while. You go back."

He pauses and then nods, stopping to glance at her over his shoulder.

If it were a movie, Heiji wouldn't have gotten married. He would've hugged her and told her that he loved her back.

But it wasn't, and he didn't—never would. Kazuha sinks down to the earth, watches Heiji's disappearing figure, and laughs bitterly at the fact that her whole life sounds like something out of a bad romance novel.

And while she had gotten rejected, something in her tells her that she was right all along. Maybe she could finally learn to move on.

But something else tells her that real childhood friends aren't anything like the world pictures them to be. That, even though Kazuha could see past the 5-year-old with a smudged face and dirty knees, Heiji couldn't replace the 7-year-old who followed after him like a lost puppy with the 23-year-old woman who said she loved him.

She could let go of everything she knew that was too much. She could lose herself in the fact that, although she knew everything about him, she would be able to take care of him, and that knowing more only meant loving more.

But he couldn't, and in the end, that made all the difference.