A/N: My first La Corda fic, yay!

Well, La Corda has always been one of my all-time favorite series, and Len/Kahoko one of my all-time favorite pairings, so I find myself wondering why I've never written for them before. But recently the feels for this series hit me again hard, and after rereading the manga twice and rewatching the anime, I've had Len and Kahoko on the brain 24/7. And as I halfheartedly pondered the idea of writing my first fic for them, LEN FREAKING MADE A CAMEO IN BLUE SKY AND PLAYED AVE MARIA AND THAT'S THEIR SONG ;w;

So I just couldn't resist writing this! This fic explores what I think Len and Kahoko's relationship would be like while he's still studying abroad/traveling pretty much all the time. It's canon to the manga, though it takes place a few years after its end, meaning Kahoko is out of college already. As much as I love reading fics about them shyly getting together or being an adorable married couple, I've been pondering mostly over what they would be like once they've been a steady couple for a few years already and now have a comfortable relationship – so that's what this fic is about :)

Here ends what is possibly the longest AN I have ever written. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own La Corda or any of its characters.

Sometimes, it was almost funny to Kahoko how awkward her relationship with Len used to be.

She remembered the school girl days of childishly idolizing him and his music, of aching to hear even a single note from his violin and never understanding why it hurt her chest so much when she did. She even laughed out loud at the thought that she once used to call him 'Tsukimori-kun,' because now she could barely remember a time when she hadn't called him 'Len.'

When his hand brushed against hers during their violin lessons, her skin used to tingle at his touch. When his side pressed into her back as he adjusted her posture, she used to blush and stutter like a fool. When he walked her home every evening, she used to keep a safe distance from the boy she hero-worshipped, as if invading his personal space even a teeny bit would send him running for the hills.

Honestly, the thing that made Kahoko chuckle the most was how she had been so naive as to not realize, even with all those signs, just how deeply she had been in love with Len.

.

.

Even when she reached adulthood, Kahoko still had a habit of waking up late every morning. This morning, even, she awoke to find that in her sleep she'd pressed the snooze button twice, and now she was running very late for work for the third time that week.

"Oh, no!" Throwing off her covers, she fumbled for her slippers and the scrunchie she kept on her nightstand.

Instead, her fingers hit a picture frame that promptly fell over due to her clumsiness, and she sheepishly righted it. And right when she saw the photo, even with the clock still ticking seconds onto her tardiness, the world around her melted away. She always had time to spare to flash the picture a loving smile, carefully grazing a finger down the glass and trying to pretend the real person was there with her.

The first time Len discovered she kept a framed picture of him on her bedside table – positioned just right, so that it was the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes in the morning – his ears had turned a shade of red she had never seen them turn before. It had been back when their relationship was still rather new, so in turn, she'd gotten pretty embarrased by it, too.

But it was one of her favorite photos, so she had never had the heart to take it down. Not many things came close to how much Kahoko loved the look on Len's face as he played his violin, all intense and passionate and lost in his element, and with how much he hated being in photos, there were not many instances where that look had been immortalized in print. This photo was one of her treasures, so she kept it as close to herself as possible. Len had simply learned to deal with it.

"Good morning," she whispered to it now, happily placing it back on her nightstand and bounding into her bathroom to prepare for the day.

She came back out with a towel wrapped around her damp hair, and as she rummaged through her drawers for her favorite pair of shorts, her eyes caught sight of yet another picture frame, this time on top of her dresser.

She grinned at the memory. Len had absolutely refused to smile for the camera, instead folding his arms and looking away in a huff, so at the last second, she'd grabbed him by the arm and yanked his cheek next to hers. The photo had captured the shock on his face as she smiled and flashed a peace sign at the camera, and if there was one thing that described their relationship best in this world, Kahoko was sure that it was this picture.

Her quiet laugher at the thought faded away into a small, longing sigh. She missed him.

Flashing the picture one last smile, Kahoko returned to fishing for her shorts, deciding that she'd call Len tonight if it would sate her longing for him even a little bit.

.

.

"Are you taking care of yourself over there?" Kahoko asked into the phone sternly, frowning more at his silence than at the task before her.

Len sighed very quietly. "Yes."

As her pot of miso soup came to a boil, she clicked her tongue disapprovingly at his simple answer. "What have you been eating? I wouldn't worry so much if you knew how to cook, but I hope you've at least been eating healthy, Len. I worry about you."

He sighed again, this time more wearily than before, and Kahoko huffed. She knew she asked him about his eating habits too often and that it had seriously started to annoy him, but she couldn't help her worry! Once or twice he appeared on her television looking a little drawn out and hollow, and she had to restrain herself from calling him right then and there to demand why he didn't take better care of himself. The biggest problem, she knew, was that he became engrossed in his practice much too easily to think of anything else but his violin.

"I've been doing fine," he assured her, sounding perhaps a bit more impatient than he had intended to.

Deciding that she'd pestered him about it enough for one night, she switched tactics. "Well, why don't you ever call me?" she demanded, pressing the phone between her shoulder and ear so she could pour herself some soup. "How come I'm always the one who calls first?" Her biting tone melted into a whine when she pouted. "Don't you think about me at all when you're there?"

"Of course," he huffed, sounding frazzled by the intimate question. "I'm simply busy."

Her pout deepened as she rolled her eyes. "I'm busy, too, you know! But I still find time to think about you, so you should do the same. Oh, and visit me more often, too," she tacked on as an afterthought.

"Kahoko..." he began softly, his tone regretful, and her shoulders deflated at the lecture she knew was coming next. "I'm not in any position to just leave any time I want to. I visit as often as I can, but —"

"I know, I know," she sighed, turning off the stove and settling down with her dinner for one. "But just because I know you can't, doesn't mean I don't wish you could."

"Me, t —"

His words were suddenly cut off as the phone shifted on his end. Kahoko simply heard a lot of static and muffled sounds of talking as she waited. Len came back on the line sounding even more haggard than before.

"I must go. Practice." It was afternoon where he was, meaning she'd called him in the middle of work. He'd given up his break to take her call, but now their time was up.

Kahoko sighed again, but still nodded as if he could see her. "Okay. Go. I'll talk to you later."

He'd never been the type for dragged-out farewells, so she simply heard the soft click of the phone as he hung up. Letting out a short exhale, Kahoko put down her own phone and returned to her dinner, wondering when she and Len would finally get to have another meal together again.

.

.

It was nearing two months after that call when Kahoko swung open her front door to find his familiar face on the other side, his hand poised to knock.

She froze, her eyes going wide in complete surprise.

Len simply nodded down at her seriously. "I'm back."

She opened her mouth, and then closed it again. She made a gesture as if she was about to say something, but no words came out. It was just such a total shock to see him without so much as a warning on his part. And she'd just been thinking about him, too, wondering if when she checked her mail just now, she would find a letter from him awaiting her. She just hadn't expected her thoughts to come to life.

"Kahoko?" Len called her, one eyebrow quirking up in amusement.

A warm, fulfilling kind of emotion threatened to burst her heart just then at hearing her name on his lips. How long had it been since he'd been within touching distance of her?

"It's you," she squeaked, her lower lip trembling. "It's really you."

Without warning, she jumped his bones.

.

.

She haphazardly kicked doors shut behind her — first the front door, and then the door to her bedroom — because her hands were too preoccupied trying to cradle his face and pop open the buttons of his shirt at the same time. Later she would remember how she'd been so nervous during their first ever kiss that she had missed his lips altogether, and instead, had smeared her lip gloss across his cheek. But for now she had hardly a thought to spare for anything but this moment. She pushed aside his vest impatiently, making an irritated noise at the back of her throat at how it was annoyingly in her way, and popped open the top half of his shirt to run a hand up his chest.

Len, for his part, was surprisingly just as poised during her passionate attack as he always was. His hands gripped her hips as he led them backwards towards the bed, and his eyes had coolly shut as he pecked at her lips calmly in contrast to her furious kisses. That was how she knew it was him, that she was really kissing the real thing, and tears pooled under her closed eyelids.

But then —

"Wait!" she suddenly shrieked, smacking his hand when it grazed down her thigh.

Len recoiled immediately, his eyes widening in a silent question, but Kahoko simply went tomato red and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Y-You surprised me!" she cried, her voice more shrill than usual. "I-I didn't know you were coming, so I'm not even wearing nice underwear!"

Len shot her an incredulous look. "That doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does," she scoffed, immediately scurrying away from him, still clutching at her chest. "I can't let you see me wearing these ratty underthings after God knows how long! They don't even match!"

"Kahoko..." he tried to reason with her, sighing as he put his head in his hand, but she only shook her head and help up a finger to motion for him to wait. He watched her scurry across the room to her dresser, where she crouched to the bottom drawer and began rummaging through the contents to find what he presumed was a nicer pair of undergarments. She was almost childishly secretive about the whole thing, hiding them behind her back so he couldn't see as she bounded for her bathroom to change, and if he knew his girlfriend, she most likely wanted the unveiling to be a surprise.

She came back looking exactly the same, albeit a bit more happier and presumably wearing different garments under her clothes. In the right light, he caught a glimpse of something black and lacy through her shirt, and his mouth ran dry.

"Ready!" she sang, pressing her lips against his and pushing his back onto her bed.

Len simply closed his eyes again, more than willing to pick up where they had left off.

.

.

That visit lasted only a day before Len had to rush off to a performance in Paris, and Kahoko returned to whispering her morning greetings to his picture rather than her actual boyfriend.

After late night phone calls and the occasional email for six months, he finally returned to her again, this time for a much more proper visit. He actually called her with the news beforehand this time, so she excitedly made plans to spend time with her boyfriend.

"There's going to be an ensemble performance at the town theater tonight," she told him excitedly, her voice muffled as she rummaged through her closet. "It's been so long since we last went to see a performance together, so I bought us tickets."

He nodded approvingly from behind her, straightening the cuffs of his dress shirt as he did so. "Sounds like it could be very beneficial."

"And fun," she tacked on, amused by his rigid way of thinking. A moment later, her face finally reemerged from her closet, beaming in success as she brandished a pretty, lilac dress before him. "I bought this dress for a special occasion, and tonight seems like the perfect time to wear it, don't you think? And" — she excitedly held up a similarly colored tie — "I bought you a matching tie to go with it!"

He accepted her present with a grateful nod of his head, throwing it around his neck to knot into place, and Kahoko sighed dreamily at the thought of matching with him for a night out together. With someone as stoic as Len for a boyfriend, even such small, couple-y things made her happy.

They made it to the theater early thanks to his rigid punctuality, and just before the lights dimmed, Kahoko lightly ran her palm over his on the armrest. When he didn't so much as stir, silently giving his permission, she hooked their fingers together and laid her head on his arm, settling in to watch the performance together. These quiet, romantic date nights were one of the many things Kahoko looked forward to with each visit.

.

.

They were still holding hands as they left the theater that evening, deciding to take advantage of the crisp, winter night and walk home together.

"So. Beautiful," Kahoko breathed as they discussed the show, unconsciously giving his hand a squeeze. She rounded on him eagerly. "Wasn't it, Len?"

"It was," he agreed simply, but he squeezed her hand back.

She shyly ran a finger up his arm, tugging him a little closer at the same time. "It made me want to play it in a duet with you," she admitted, her cheeks flushing at the request. It had just been too long since they'd last played together.

He cocked his head to the side. "It might be too difficult a piece to play after only hearing it for the first time."

"Then... Ave Maria?" she asked, looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes. His breath caught when the moonlight hit her face, and he simply could not refuse.

They hurried home.

.

.

Next, he departed for a performance in Italy, and Kahoko had to content herself with watching him on TV like the rest of the world. Every once in a while, when she was feeling particularly whimsy, she liked pausing the screen during his close-ups and taking a selfie, which she promptly sent to him without delay so he'd know he had her support. He never replied to those pictures, but Kahoko knew him well enough by now that she was sure he was just too adorably embarrassed.

Her New Year passed without him, though she didn't really mind since he called her for the first time that night to wish her well, and she felt like her heart might just burst. To know that someone as busy and goal-oriented as Len took time out for her always made her stomach flutter.

The rest of her winter also passed without him, but March brought not only spring, but also her lover to her door.

The first few days together were quiet and comfortable as they let the world thaw outside. Kahoko found that she loved the simply domesticity of eating dinner together or curling up on the couch to watch a late-night movie as she used Len as her pillow. It was almost impossible to believe that once she used to be so self-conscious about touching him in any way.

Then, on the day before his departure, he surprised her with a gift.

She took the leather case curiously, looking between it and Len's expectant expression before pulling it open to find the most exquisite locket she had ever seen inside.

"Len," she breathed, delicately fingering the gem hanging down the middle.

"For White Day," he explained quietly, and it was only then that she remembered what day it was. "Last year you gifted me with chocolate for Valentine's day, but I was unable to come back to Japan in time to return the favor. So I'm making up for last year's White Day this year. I hope you don't mind that it's late?"

Kahoko simply set down the case on her coffee table and threw her arms around his neck. "Len, I love you!"

He ended up sprawled on her sofa with her on top, but neither of them minded even one bit.

.

.

Even with how much she loved his visits, his departure was always painful.

Kahoko followed him out the front door with a dejected frown, carefully cradling his violin case for him as he held on to his suitcase. They set them down on the porch and faced each other for a proper goodbye.

"Any idea when you'll be returning?" she asked, absentmindedly taking both of his hands into hers.

He shook his head regretfully. "After this next performance, we have a tour planned in America. And then I have my solo performances as well. I can only be sure that it will take a while."

She exhaled loudly, her shoulders deflating, and continued playing with his fingers. Looking down at them, she remembered how just last night he had made her blush and stutter by carefully kissing each and every one of her fingers, grazing the back of each knuckle carefully with his lips and even blinking so close to her palm that his lashes tickled her skin. It was almost surreal that now he was leaving.

Spurred on by the memory, Kahoko placed a single kiss in the middle of both his palms, and then threw her arms around his waist. Stepping closer and pressing her cheek against his chest, she squeezed him as tightly as possible.

"I wish you'd at least let me go with you to the airport," she mumbled, her pout obvious in her voice.

He sighed, placing one hand on top of her head. "We've been through this. You have work in an hour, and that is too important for you to miss."

"I know," she huffed, glaring at the ground. "That doesn't mean I have to like this, though."

There was a pause, and then he slowly slid his hand down her hair. "I don't like it, either," he admitted quietly, and it made her heart swell just to know that he wanted to spend more time with her.

When she pulled back from his chest to look up at him, her smile was much more genuine. "I'm so lucky to have a boyfriend who lets me act so spoiled around him," she mused playfully.

That earned a brief smile out of him. Now that she no longer looked as depressed, he reluctantly detached himself from her embrace, placing a chaste kiss against her forehead before carrying his belongings to the car waiting for him. Kahoko held up one hand as a goodbye.

"See you soon," she called after him softly. "Love you..."

He turned back just long enough to curtly nod at her in return, and then he was off. She watched his car until it disappeared around the corner, and willed herself not to feel so disheartened.

She might have been a little lonely to see him go, but Kahoko knew the wait would be well worth it when he returned to her again.

A/N: Got a little mushy at the end, but that's what these two do to me :3

There were actually more scenes I wanted to write in — Hino having a really close relationship with Len's parents, or laughing over his baby pictures with his mother as Len watches in embarrassment, or even just going into more detail about Len and Kahoko's separate lives when he's not around — but they simply didn't fit in with the tone of the story. In the end, I just left them out and this was the final result :)

I hope you all liked it! :D