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She looked out the window…well she hadn't been expecting that.
A soft melody drifted up to her ears, pleasant and sweet, like a serenade. Its origin stood slightly hunched over on the sidewalk out front, strumming with practiced fingers on a guitar strapped over their shoulder.
Her heart beat loudly with surprise at the sight. The sight of him.
"What is he doing here?" she murmured to herself. How long had it been? Surely, years must have passed. The ache in her heart swelled painfully with the misconception of time—in reality, they'd seen each other only a few days ago, and yet it felt as though the two of them had been apart for eons.
His appearance refreshed her tired eyes. The dark hair falling in loose curls just above his shoulders, clad in his usual black tee and blue jeans; they made him look much younger than he was, and the look worked in his favor. The usual hat's absence just made it even better. A small curve of his lips alerted her to the focus with which he played the song, as did the intensity of his gentle eyes. The motions of his long fingers were dexterous and experienced, moving in ways hers could never hope to. His aura glowed brightly through his illuminating show.
Seeing him so absorbed in the music was a novelty, a side of him to which she had never been privy before, and it made her all the more engrossed in his performance. As though sensing her eyes on him, he glanced up. She let out a small gasp of air as he stared at her with the same attentiveness to which he'd paid his playing, feeling her pulse race embarrassingly quick the longer and more intently he watched her—all without breaking eye contact.
A world of beautiful, soothing colors built up between the two, surrounding her in a healing warmth that eased the throbbing in her chest. When he stared at her with such determination and ferocity in his eyes, she wasn't sure what to make of his presence after the events which had transpired.
Their arrival, their shock at their daughter's situation, their demand that she leave with them to their hotel while they processed the information. Her parents had yet to respond to her on where they stood on her relationship with her "uncle", and she'd respectfully abstained from mentioning him as they passed the last few days days touring the city. She hadn't seen him once since she'd been dragged out of the bar, nor heard word through a phone call.
And yet there he stood, at night on a sidewalk in Tokyo, serenading her like they were two love-struck teens in a sappy romance movie rather than two grown adults engaged to be married. The ridiculousness of it all brought water to her eyes, and a little sob rocked her chest. She covered her mouth with a hand, hiding the growing smile that crossed her features.
A grin spread over his expression. His eyes glowed brightly in the darkness, only illuminated by the streetlights. Even from the distance between them, she recognized the familiar happy tilt of his lips, the right side of his mouth lifting almost imperceptibly higher than the left. To her, that smile which she hadn't seen in so long—to her, it felt like she was finally coming back home. An indescribable emotion swiftly overcame her and soon hot tears spilled down her flushing cheeks.
He chuckled at her reaction, shaking his head with amusement. 'Don't cry," he called up to her, smile widening.
She wiped her hands over her cheeks and rubbed her eyes, but the tears wouldn't stop flowing. "You can't do something like this and expect me not to," she responded over the continuing music, half-laughing with relief and half-crying with the same emotion. "Why would you do this? Why are you here?"
His smile faltered, if only for a second. "I couldn't let things stay the way they were after they took you away. You had to be worried about what would happen next. So I came to reassure you: No matter what they decide, if they try to take you back home, move you to another city, break us apart. Even if the world stood in our way, it wouldn't keep me from reaching you again and again. Don't ever forget this. You'll always be mine."
She couldn't get down the stairs and throw open the door fast enough. Before he knew what hit him, she'd flown into his arms and wrapped her own around him in such a tight embrace she suspected he could hardly breathe.
But it didn't stop him from holding her with even tighter strength. She buried her face in his chest as he set the instrument down beside him and picked her up in his arms, twirling them around in a full circle. She gasped and giggled, exhilarated by the excitement of their reunion. She'd never felt so close to the clouds in the sky as she did in that moment when he lifted her chin, their lips meeting in a most long-awaited homecoming kiss. Nothing had ever tasted so sweet as the feel of his mouth on hers, nothing had ever felt so complete as she did surrounded by his warmth.
"Kunihiko." He crinkled his gentle eyes at her in response. "I want them to accept us," she whispered into the space between them. Through the cloth under the hand she placed on his chest, she felt his heart racing in tandem with hers. "I'd do anything if it meant they could see how much you mean to me. I never want to leave you.
"But if they don't, and that means doing just that…" she swallowed thickly as his forehead pressed against hers. "I could never do it."
His hold had never been so reassuring before. He ran his fingers through her hair, simultaneously clearing the wet tear tracks off her cheeks and leaning down to shower light kisses on her eyelids, nose, forehead, anywhere he could. "You won't have to. I have faith in them…they'll come around." She could only nod. "For now, it's late. I only wanted to see you for a bit…so can you hang on a little longer until they're ready?"
Her head bobbed up and down. "Of course."
His fingers slid down through her hair along her neck, tracing a path back to her ears where they pushed hair behind them. Her eyes fluttered instinctively just as he pressed one last, lingering, ever so tender goodbye to her lips. "I'll see you soon."
He picked up the guitar, sliding the strap over his shoulder and reaching for her once more. He backed away slowly, running his hands across her shoulders and down her arms. His long fingers grasped one of her hands in each of his as he stepped further and further away. She curled hers in his palms, stretching them until the very last second, not wanting to let him go. Their fingertips brushed one last time before he turned around and began walking back home.
He waved a hand lazily over his shoulder; she watched him go, until he became but a tiny speck in the distance.