Remember Me

By Confused Panda Bear

Part III.

Future

They lay in the water that filled the bathtub, her back against his chest and his knees, bent up either side of hers.

Gou had now permanently moved into the estate, ordering around the contractors who they hired to finish off the last of the refurbishment, with Haru only leaving her side to settle the lease with their apartment in town.

They were closer than ever and at that moment, a she could not think of anything else in the world she would want but this.

Except, maybe…

"...Haru?"

His reply was sleepy, content, and muffled against the back of her neck.

"Hmm?"

She laughed, tilting her head so that her forehead tucked gently under his chin.

"...Don't you think this is an awfully huge house, for just two people?"

Gou could not believe that she was his wife: that she had more of him than any other woman had ever had, and he the same to her.

The more time they spent living on the estate, the more surprised she became of how easy it was – being his wife – how comfortable she came to behave like a married couple, rearranging her thoughts in terms of "we," "us" and "ours" and their future together.

Haru was delighted, of course.

Even though Gou had still not recovered her memories, it was almost as if she had never lost them.

It was enough that she curious, that she asked questions about them that he could answer them without restraint.

Their friends and family were both surprised and at the same time not at the development; her mother least of all commenting that she was glad that Gou had "finally snapped out of it," insinuating that she had willingly chosen to forget the wonderful man that was her husband, Nanase Haruka.

The only time her amnesia really bothered her these days was thinking of all the lost time she had wasted pushing him away and keeping them apart.

So, in light of this, Gou was inspired to create new memories with Haru: ones that she was sure were better than the last because she knew first hand how quickly life could change before you even knew it.

And because of this revelation, she could not wait to start a family with him.

"I feel like you're just using me for sex," he had said, out of breath whilst still inside of her, though it was hardly a complaint.

It was their honeymoon period all over again, where several nights and even days were spent rediscovering her body with someone who knew it better than she did.

After each time, she would curl up under his arm and ask if he thought they made a girl or a boy, and each time Haru would say that he hoped that it was a little girl who looked just like her.

Gou would smile, silently keeping it to herself that she wished for a baby boy with Haruka's eyes.

The seasons changed without a care in the world and the warming weather had her husband visiting the beach almost every day, situated just less than five minutes away across the pier.

It would never fail to amaze her how the man could be out of his clothes in a matter of seconds once in line of sight with the ocean – admittedly a skill no one else but Gou could provoke – so she had long given up accompanying him on his daily excursions.

It was like any other Tuesday afternoon: the contractors were in and ridding the bedrooms from the unwanted furniture, and Haru had left for the beach in the morning.

She had gone into town when he left, a short bus ride and walk through cobbled streets, in search for a boutique nursery store that she had spotted on her last trip with Haru (who veered her away, probably because he was reluctant to be seen in such an establishments).

Gou had already chosen the bedroom that was to be their child's, and even though it was still incredibly premature, she could not help but window shop for a little "inspiration."

The store was quiet like a child's nursery should be. Even the bell that hung above the door was a gentle, heavenly chime that alerted the staff to her attention.

"Ah, it's you!" the girl behind the counter called, to her surprise.

Gou looked around the empty store, before pointing at herself and mouthing, "me?"

Ignoring her obvious confusion, the girl crossed the store floor to greet her.

"I'm so glad you came!"

She was young, pretty and a high schooler, Gou figured, by her over-excitement and the braces on her teeth.

"I was hoping you'd come back before we sold it to someone else," she continued, leading her through the store by the wrist. "I just remembered that you loved it so much and we finally got one in blue, like you wanted so–"

The girls rant was cut short when an older lady who she believed to be her manager, cut between their linked arms and apologised to Gou profoundly for her part timers brazen attitude, insisting above all else, that she had mistaken Gou for someone else.

Immediately, the young girl served a fumbled bow and greeted her as if she had completely reset the situation by asking if she needed help finding anything.

When Gou got home that afternoon, she attributed the stirring in her stomach to be hunger and headed to the kitchen to make lunch.

The exchange at the shop was odd, but she figured she might have visited before she had lost her memories, if she was anything like the lovesick puppy she was now.

There were still many things she did not know and she would simply have to ask Haru about it when he got home – promptly deciding to forget about what happened at the store until he arrived.

Even so, her sandwich was left unattended as she stared out into the garden, absentmindedly swivelling her wedding ring on her finger – before the the staggering sound of something heavy falling down the stairs interrupted her train of thought.

She heard one of the movers curse at the other as she went to investigate, finding the two overall clad men standing over the large dressing table that had been living in storage in one of the empty bedrooms.

The drawers had spilled its entire contents onto the hallway floor, thankfully nothing of much significance: just a few spare buttons, discarded bank statements, loose change and other mismatch objects that one is inclined to keep but with no real place to put them.

"Sorry about the mess," one of the movers spoke with a thick, country accent. "We'll sort it it out for ya – hey, is everything alright, ma'am?"

Her body had reacted before her mind could catch up.

Her muscles had seized and her throat constricted.

Her face had paled and her mouth could not produce a single sound in response to the worried looks her employees were giving her at that moment.

All she could focus on was the photograph on the floor by her toes, clearly intended to be hidden out of her sight: the glossy paper that had caught her attention in the sunlight revealing a grainy image of a little peanut shaped figure with a little head even tinier hands.

Wordlessly, she made her way up the stairs, her stomach clenched tight with nausea and her breath rasping in her throat.

Arriving at the landing, her eyes darted to the room at the end of the hall:

The airing cupboard.

The old lock gave way easily and stumbling through the door, took Gou only a moment for her eyes came to focus, as did the fragments of her forgotten memories.

The sickness and excitement, the appointments and the tests, all came back to her at once in a tunnel of snapshot images, somehow so fast but without a single detail omitted.

She remembered telling her friends, her mother and finally her brother the news, and having to physically restrain Rin from slaughtering Haru on the spot.

She remembered spending mornings with her head in a toilet bowl and banning Haru from eating mackerel in her presence, and laughing when he attempted to talk to her stomach in a silly voice.

She remembered pouring over first time pregnancy books, attending pre-natal yoga classes, and spending hours picking the perfect shade of blue for the nursery.

She remembered painting the room herself, with Haru standing over her, one hand supporting her by the bump and the other helping her reach to the far corners of the wall.

Her vision seemed to blur at the edges when she looked around the small room now.

It still smelt of faintly of paint, pale blue lined with white pastel dolphins that Haru spent hours stencilling in himself.

He had shared her excitement, "you're spoiling this boy before it's even been born!" she had said: and then the sickening image of her accident came to mind, unsure if it were a memory or a figure of her imagination because as soon as the car came to a jolting stop, Gou's perception was thrown from her body as she watched her own figure behind the wheel.

She watched as the car behind made impact, watched as she was thrown from her seat, and instead of protecting her head from the shattering windshield – watched her arms moved to curl over her stomach instead.

Her legs gave way with the weight of the realisation.

She fell to her knees, and screamed.

"Revolutionary? I could take a better photograph on my phone with an Instagram filter!"

Haru leant his elbow on his desk, his cheek rested against his knuckles.

He wasn't staring at anything in particular – even the emails in his inbox and the deadlines on his calendar could not get his mind off of that girl who barged into his exhibit the other day.

"It's just so pretentious – what's so great about them?" she had said, and his eyes creased into a smile.

He didn't quite get her name or even how she managed to find her way into his exhibit, but Haru recognised the uniform she was wearing – she was a nurse at the specialist athletics clinic he had frequented in his swimming days.

She was ordinary to look at first, until you noticed the little things like the shape of her mouth and the length of her lashes, and how she made the act of tying her hair look like a choreographed dance.

The way she looked at his photographs and they way she looked at him made Haru wonder what it was like to see the world through her eyes.

He leant back in his chair thoughtfully, fabricating a torn ligament or dislocated shoulder with reason to see her.

She had been the first person to criticise his work and therefore, the first person he had been interested in for a while.

For some reason, he wanted her to like his photographs, and because of this, he was sure he would meet her again someday.

He just didn't know it would be like this.

"Gou, this is Haru," Rin introduced them both. "My photographer friend – you know, for the wedding."

Nanase Haruka could not fake emotions like other people could, so his dislike for Gou was as outright as a slap in the face.

He avoided her like the plague: largely governing all conversation through Rin and even in her presence, would ignore her as if she wasn't there – once actually turning tail and running in the opposite direction before she could strike up a proper conversation.

He was rude, standoffish and maybe even a little arrogant, so Gou had no idea why she wanted him to like her so much.

She just wanted to get to know him, especially when they were going to be working together on one of the most important days of her life, but more so because her brother always spoke of Haru so fondly – or as fondly as guys do – where 'fondness' is one in the same with 'mutual respect,' though she did get the impression that Rin never really fully forgave the boy for giving up competitive swimming.

When she found out that he lived somewhat on route home from work, she decided to stop by one evening and try make amends.

Haru was living at his parents old place in Iwatobi, after having studied and lived in Tokyo for a few years. Rin told her that he was currently trying to sell it to buy an apartment closer to his studio in town, but the stand alone country house with it's picket fence and traditional Japanese patio suited his reclusive personality, Gou thought to herself.

Letting herself through the front gate, she gasped as she caught sight of the boy in the front garden, dealing dishes of milk and cat food out for the strays before she could mentally prepare herself.

"Nanase-san!" she called out, probably in surprise, and the cats dispersed in all directions.

He straightened up to face her without greeting, his stance not in the least bit welcoming at all.

"I was just on my way home and I was passing by and I…" she faltered under his questioning stare, "I thought that we could...catch up."

She could not hold his gaze for longer than five seconds, so instead she peered behind him, at the slightly ajar front door with the slither of yellow light from his hallway seeping onto the porch.

"Can I come in?" she prompted.

Haru looked from her to the door, and then shook his head, more to himself than anyone else.

"Probably not a good idea," he finally spoke.

Taken aback and not quite sure how to proceed, Gou decided to get straight to the point:

"Are you still mad about what I said at your exhibit?" she said with an air of waning impatience. "I am sorry, but I've apologised a thousand times already!"

There was a slight twitch in the curve of his lips, a flash of a dimple in his cheek that she had never noticed before now. It disappeared before she commit it to memory, but it was enough of an encouragement that one day, even she could make Nanase Haruka smile.

"Can we put that behind us?" she pleaded with puppy eyes. "Can we at least try to be friends?"

It was a cold evening, but Gou was sweltering in her uniform as she waited for his response.

Haruka seemed to stare past her, thinking over her proposal with intense consideration.

She added, after a beat:

"I mean – just whilst we're working on the wedding together..."

With a little reluctance, he nodded – slowly, as if he were already regretting his decision.

Determined to prove him wrong in all that he thought of her, Gou thanked him profusely and took her leave with a bid goodnight, somehow knowing that lingering beyond her welcome would make him dislike her even more.

"Are you walking home? On your own?" he spoke, all of a sudden. "At this hour?"

She looked down at her watch. It was a few minutes past nine but she knew that he could not possibly be concerned about her safety.

Gou waved her hands in front of her in dismissal, "it's not that far, maybe fifteen min–"

Without a word, Haruka turned and stormed inside his house before she could finish, slamming the door behind him for effect.

Gou was literally floored by his rudeness, almost deciding he was not worth her time after all, if he had not then returned a second later, clad in a jacket and a pair of running shoes and locking the door behind him.

He took her by the wrist and lead her down the drive.

"Let me walk you home," he said.

That night, Matsuoka Gou finally she got to see that side of Nanase Haruka that her brother was so fond of – his mysterious but caring soul.

Rin said he was the kind of guy that would go out of his way to help an old lady cross the street; who would feed the stray cats in the neighbourhood – the kind of guy who would never let a girl walk home on her own at night.

She smiled down at the hand wrapped around her wrist, and hoped that she would see this side of him again soon.

As wedding preparations went underway, Nanase Haruka was as much of a presence in the Matsuoka household as their adult-children.

It wasn't abnormal for Haru to be around for dinner, and for Gou to be alone with the boy whilst waiting for Rin and her mother to get home from work.

One evening, the duo were relaxing on the couch with the TV on half watched, her feet tucked under his thighs whilst she absentmindedly flicked through the photos on his digital camera.

Gou frowned, "why are there so many of me?"

"Practice for the wedding," Haru stated simply.

He peered over, just in time to see Gou delete a snap he had taken of her when they had visited a florist to sample the flower arrangements. He had liked the way the array of leaves and petals brought out her hair and the patterns on her dress.

He reached for the camera and she jerked back, defiantly moving it out of his reach.

"What are you doing?" he asked, making another grab when she deleted yet another picture.

"These are horrible, Haruka-senpai!"

Without thinking, he lunged across the couch before she wiped his entire memory card, and soon they were wrestling like children: in a tangle of arms and elbows as Haru yelled at her for carelessly waving around what was a very expensive piece of equipment.

It wasn't long before his size and strength had her under him, pinned to the couch by the wrists and the welcome weight of his hips pressing into hers.

In a span of a breath, they froze.

Gou breathed in with the belated realisation and caught scent of the laundry detergent and aftershave on his cotton shirt.

He was looking down at her with the most curious expression, his eyes all the more amazing up close.

They were kind of blue that people wrote songs about, likening the hues to the oceans, the stars and clear skies: the kind of eyes that she could get lost in for days.

Unconsciously, she licked her own lips and his pupils darted to her mouth.

"Kou…" he said with a warning in his tone and briefly, she closed her eyes, her insides melting when he called her by the name that she liked.

Haru took advantage of her momentary lapse, just long enough to snatch the camera from her hands.

He pulled himself away from her and parked himself as far away as he could on that small couch, prompting Gou to also sit upright with her feet on the floor and her hands on her lap like a guest.

"Sorry," she whispered meekly.

"It's ok."

But it wasn't.

Haru chanced a glance at her, and pushed the hair out of his eyes.

They were dark poised on her with a stare so intimate, she could feel the goosebumps rise on every inch of skin that he tracked.

She knew from that moment that he wanted her – and the most worrying part of all was how her trembling hands wanted to reach out and touch him too.

It was a mistake they knew was going to happen, long before that evening sat sharing take-away on the bare wooden floor of Haru's studio.

It was the weekend Rin and Seijuro were out of town for his bachelor party. Gou had complained about being "abandoned" by her brother and financé and being "a terrible cook," so Haru invited the girl over after work, kidding himself with reason that he could not possibly let his best friend's little sister go hungry in his absence.

They had been alone together before, but not alone like this: the silences between them no longer comfortable but strung out over long minutes – both afraid to speak as if they already knew that life as they had known it had come to an end.

"Kou."

His gaze flickered down to her lips, pouted and inviting, and then she was thrown by the full velocity of his bright blue eyes meeting hers, his stare only a little more breathtaking than his next few words.

"Tell me to stop."

A part of her wanted to, the part that knew that it was wrong, that her being here with him of all people, was wrong.

But her mouth couldn't even form the word no matter how hard she willed it.

"You're getting married. In two months," he added sternly, a fact that they both knew but were beginning to longer care for.

"But you said..." Gou breathed, closing the space between their foreheads.

Her touch travelled up the length of his neck and smoothed over the hair on the back of his head.

His lips were already touching hers.

"I said what?"

It was awfully serious race for a public swimming pool – but one so close that they had formed a small audience by the time their hands slapped against the wall of the pool, milliseconds apart.

The victor was Rin, who celebrated like he was a teenager: splashing about and yelling "in your face!" at Haru whilst he caught his breath.

Haru smiled, despite himself.

Winning meant a lot more to Rin, but it didn't mean that he would go easy on him.

As if it were the most natural thing in the world, Haru hauled himself out of the pool and reached for his phone, sitting on top of the pile of towels and clothes inside his sports bag.

Rin watched curiously as he opened a message, read it and frowned.

SMS Message from: Matsuoka Gou: I can't tonight. Have plans with Seijuro and his parents.

"You have your phone on you a lot lately," Rin commented, casually scrubbing a towel through his hair.

His response was typical of Haru: indifferent, if not for the slight stiffening of his shoulders and the way he snapped his phone shut before Rin could catch a glimpse.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He knew very well what that meant.

Nanase Haruka had the technophobia of man more than twice his age, and was notorious amongst their friends for disappearing off the face of the earth whenever he let his phone run out of battery.

He was stubborn like that, and because of this stubbornness, Rin was well aware that he wouldn't get a straight answer.

He decided on a more direct approach:

"Is there something wrong? Something stressing you out?"

His phone vibrated in his palm once more and Haru chanced a glance at the preview of the message that blinked up on the screen.

SMS Message from: Matsuoka Gou: I'm sorry. I miss you so much. I can't stop thinking about the other night when–

"–Is it work? Is the wedding getting in the way?" Rin spoke before he could get a word in edgeways. "I'm sorry for dragging you into it. I know how demanding Gou can be sometimes…"

Haru smirked because oh, he did know.

And my god, he interpreted in a completely different way.

He physically shook of his head of his thoughts and tossed his phone back into his sports bag in a demonstration of indifference.

"It's nothing," Haru insisted. "I'm just..."

"What?"

"Frustrated, I guess."

"Frustrated?" Rin repeated. "Frustrated with what–?"

His sentence caught as he watched Haru sigh through gritted teeth and massage an imaginary knot on the back on his neck.

Rin dealt him knowing look and clapped the poor boy on the back.

He had the pleasure of meeting his latest conquest the other week, a tall, stunning blonde with more good looks than sense, but Rin got the impression that the girl's eyes wandered as much as Haru's did.

He chuckled to himself, shaking his head.

"I get it, I get it," he laughed, obliviously. "If you don't mind a piece of advice, Nanase: call that pretty model girlfriend of yours and tell her to hurry back from Paris before your pants explode."

"Tell me about him."

He was feeling spiteful.

Maybe because he knew deep down that he was a bad person, but wanted to remind her that so was she.

But mostly because there was nothing he hated more than watching her leave, even though he had begged her to stay the night.

"What could you possibly want to know about Seijuuro?"

Haru frowned at her slim back as she turned to fix her hair in the mirror.

"I want to know why you started dating him," he stated defiantly. "Why you fell in love with him. Why you agreed to marry him."

Gou sent his reflection a pained look.

Makoto and Nagisa always said that Haru was more talkative after a couple of drinks.

She could tell he stopped at a bar after work for a beer or six, by the way his texts were slurred like spoken words and his lips tasted like that last shot of tequila he knocked back just before she arrived.

"Surely, you won't want to know that?"

"Yet, here I am," Haru spread his arms, a gesture of self deprecation. "Riveted by every gory detail."

They both knew this time would come eventually, but over a month down the line, neither of them really knew what they were doing – if whatever it was between them was lust, something deeper, or something in between that neither of them could really comprehend.

But amidst all their uncertainty: they knew what they were doing was wrong.

There were times when Gou would be so inconsolable with the guilt that next time she sought him out, Haru would be reluctant to see her again – but this was the first time he ever spoke out about his own frustrations.

Haru scoffed in her silence: "He can't be all that, if you're here with me."

"You don't know him like I do."

"Then what is it then? Why are you here?"

"Haru–"

"–Are you bored?" his voice was teetering on threatening. "Am I that one last bout of rebellion before you settle down? Or did you just want to know what it was like to fuck someone famous?"

Finally, her head of red hair spun to face him and Haru regretted his words the second he saw the moisture in the corner of her eyes.

Unwittingly, Gou's mind conjured up an angry flashback of the tall, blonde model Haru had the audacity to bring to brunch with her brother the last week – with her spider like legs and exotic colouring, and her inability to laugh without throwing her head back in an exaggerated, glossy wave of shampoo-advert hair.

"Don't get me mixed up with one of your other girlfriends, Haru," she spat.

Snatching up her things, Gou bolted for the door and pulling on her shoes, felt weakened by the devastating second when she did not think that he would follow her this time.

But sure enough, Haru pulled her to him – and her back collided with his broad chest.

"Don't talk like that," he said. "You know there isn't anyone else."

"We want the theme to be: summer!"

Haru's expression was deadpan.

"How inspired."

No one could blame his foul mood that morning.

Less than 12 hours ago, the woman he loved was in his bed, sobbing with satisfaction in his arms and now here he was: taking her engagement photos with another man.

It was nowhere near beach weather, but the skies were clear and the pier was empty enough for the couple to have an uninterrupted photoshoot where they could embrace in the sunset and draw sickening "Sei x Gou ~ save the date!" messages in the sand.

It was hell for him, but no matter how hard he tried – Haruka could not bring himself to hate Mikoshiba Seijuro.

Even when he wrapped an arm around his fiancée's shoulders and pulled her to his side, Haru begrudgingly admitted that they were a handsome match – but not as good as he was with her, of course.

It was Gou he despised at that moment: the way she cooed and smiled up at Seijuro as if he wasn't there made his blood boil and his vision turn red.

His eyes narrowed.

How could she act this way in front of him? Did she not care?

If not for Makoto lending a helping hand with the lighting, he would have lost it and no one would have blamed him, having been subjected to the most awkward third wheel situation if the century.

Later that week, Haru arrived at the Matsuoka household before the siblings arrived.

He was welcomed inside by their mother who was so keen to see the developed photographs from the shoot, she would not wait until her daughter got home from work.

Pouring over the images fanned over the dining room table, she picked out picture of her daughter, one that Haru had taken between the shoots.

It was one of Haru's favourites – a candid snap of Gou where the light from the sunset peeked over the crown of her head like a halo.

Her eyes were fixed over the camera lense to the person behind it.

"I like this one of Gou," she smiled knowingly at Haru. "She looks very in love here."

The rehearsal dinner marked a week until the wedding day, and though Haru and his camera had been invited to the event: now was not the time to be taking any fucking pictures.

He was never the kind to be comfortable around large crowds of people, but it was all the more evident tonight, scowling every time someone approached him to ask: "so how you do know the lovely couple?"

Unable to handle another toast, another chorus of applause, Haru took to the french doors that opened onto the balcony, framed by billowing curtains that warned him of the cold, spring temperature outside and knew that out there, he could catch a moment alone.

Filling his lungs with the evening breeze, he rest his elbows on the marble railings and looked broodingly out into the night.

"Haruka-senpai," a voice sounded behind him, all too soon.

The balcony was dark and Gou was at least a metre away behind him, but Haru could map the profile of her face, the exact expression she would be wearing when he turned to her just by the tiniest inflection in her voice.

She wore her hair in a bridal chignon, the pinned curls studded with tiny white rosebuds that matched the lace white summer dress that did nothing to shield her from the biting spring breeze of that evening.

Gou always sucked on her bottom lip when she was worried, and wrung her wrists with her hands when she was cold.

He would hold them in his own like tiny, fragile birds and press his thumbs into the dent where he could feel her pulse, wondering how in the world he could love the feeling of someone else's heartbeat so much.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked.

As if it was her answer, Gou watched as he pulled a cigarette and lighter from his blazer pocket.

He released a cloud of smoke in her direction, an act of defiance seeing as he knew very well how much she hated the habit.

She waved a hand in front of her face, "I thought you were giving up?"

Haru took another drag, eyeing her curiously before averting his gaze: "I will, eventually."

Silence reigned between them, and unable to conjure up an appropriate response, Gou found herself watching the ashey flame of Haru's cigarette dim and brighten, illuminating his handsome features.

Drawing in a deep breath that was supposed to be steadying, Gou joined him by the railings.

She steadied herself on the freezing marble stone, attempting to absorb its hardness so that she would not break with the words that were on the tip of her tongue.

"I know what you're thinking, but–" she spoke. "–I need...some more time."

Haru plucked the cigarette from his lips and abruptly threw it over the balcony onto the garden below.

She flinched at his every movement, feeling his frustration as acutely as her own.

He shoved his fists into his pockets and set his jaw against the innately violent reaction that followed her noncommittal statement.

"To do what?" he asked, after a minute.

Gou shrunk into her shoulders; "to...to think."

He let out a breath of strained disbelief.

"Surely, you must know what you want by now."

At that moment, Haru would not believe her, but she did know.

Gou knew what she wanted, long before this evening and before even Haru knew himself: but she had let things go too far and before she knew it, there seemed to be no way out.

The main problem was that Gou was people pleaser – years of trying to win over her brother's affections taught her to be like that, and as the wedding drew close, her mind was occupied with the hundreds invitations she would have to take back, the money already spent and the disappointment of her fiancé and her future in-laws whose only crime was being too nice that she could not bear to let them all down.

"I–I don't know what you want me to say–"

"–I don't know what you want me to do!"

Gou halved the distance between them.

If she could hug him, kiss him, at least hold his face in her hands, she could assure him that she loved him and that somehow, everything was going to work out.

He must have been thinking the same thing when he ran his fingers through his hair as if to find do something with them.

"Things...me and you…" he whispered. "It's...it's gone too far for me to up and leave and forget about it all, even though I know it's the right thing to do…"

He looked at her then, a hand inching towards her face and passing tantalisingly close to her chin before falling back to his side.

Her heart lurched rebelliously, jumping towards him.

"I love you, Matsuoka Kou," he said."You should be marrying me instead."

Haru heard her halfway up the drive, a bloodcurdling noise triggering something like instinct as he discarded his bag and towel on the gravelled driveway and sprinted into the house to find her, mind screaming all the way:

If only I hadn't gone to the beach today.

If I had just come home a little earlier.

He caught sight of the picture of the sonogram on the hallway floor and sure enough, found Gou in the middle of the abandoned nursery, her head in her hands and her sobs convulsing from her stomach to her shoulders.

Helplessness overcame him, as did the crippling realisation that there was nothing he could say or do to make pain go away.

All he could do was hold her close and wrap his arms around her crumpled form.

"Haru..." she looked up at him with a tear streaked face. "I'm so sorry."

"I don't understand why you're telling me this."

Seijuro stared at his fiancee from across the table that separated them.

He wondered if she had done this on purpose: to tell him in public so that he would not over-react, and at the restaurant where he proposed, no doubt.

Perhaps she thought it was symbolic.

He, on the other hand, thought it pretty savage.

"You deserve to know," she answered quietly, more to her lap than anyone else. "And I know it means nothing now, but I am really, really sorry I let this happen."

He could not hate her, even in that moment.

They had been together long enough to know that she felt awful.

In the final weeks leading up to the big day, where most brides were sampling makeup looks, exercising furiously to rid of those last couple of pounds – Gou had been incredibly aloof and even dismissive whenever the topic of the wedding would come up.

Seijuro had fallen in love with her vibrancy, her cheerfulness that seemed infectious, so he had never known Gou to be anything but.

She had been so excited when he proposed, so eager to start the planning, but now her mind was a million miles away. Sometimes, he would catch her staring into nothing, or lying wide awake at night, the back light of her phone illuminating her face as if she were waiting for someone to call.

They were brief but conspicuous moments, that Seijuro had put down to nerves. Nothing that he thought to be worried about.

Or so he thought.

"We're getting married next week," he spoke with disbelief. "Why are you just telling me this now?"

If Gou's head ducked any lower, her chin would be touching her chest.

"I don't know."

Seijuro stared at her for a long minute, before averting his gaze towards the bustling restaurant.

He had no idea. None at all.

She could have got away with it if she wanted, but she told him the truth, and that surely meant something.

Right?

He took a deep breath, his chest expanding.

"Fine," he decided. "I forgive you."

Her feathery lashes shot up to look at him, pupils shrinking.

"What?"

"If this was just a momentary lapse in judgement...panic about the wedding...hell, I don't know! Maybe one last hurrah before committing yourself to sleeping with one person forever?"

He lent over the table and took her small hands in his own.

"I can get past that. I love you and I want to marry you."

Seijuro stroked her knuckles with his thumb and tried to look her in the eyes, his heartbeat quickening with every passing second because why wasn't she saying it back?

"You don't love him," he felt sick asking. "Do you?"

Gou began to cry.

He rarely saw her cry, even though Rin claimed she was a crybaby when she was child.

Her tears were silent, rolling down her cheeks and pooling at her chin and when he tried to wipe them away, she pulled back and wouldn't let him touch her again.

"Yes, I do," she said, a dagger in his heart. "I'm sorry. I tried not to, but I'm so in love with him. And there's nothing I can do to make it stop."

Gou had never cried so much in her entire life.

Even in those first few weeks when she had initially moved in with Haru, where she had locked herself in her room for days, was nothing compared to the way she cried with so much grief it made her sick.

Rei had her admitted to his hospital for almost a week.

She wasn't eating or sleeping or living, in Haruka's eyes.

He had spent what felt like days in bed holding her, her sobs coming in tides so strong that she was unable to speak: because remembering what was essentially two sets of lives that weaved and intertwined was like torture.

What kind of mother was she, forgetting her own child?

The guilt almost consumed her.

She could not even protect her own baby, and would not listen when Rei told her that there was nothing she could have done.

She remembered everything that happened with Haru and it was like falling in love with him for the third time.

Unfortunately, she also remembered forgetting him, and the way he had reacted that night they had fought and the wretchedness he must have felt being unable to share his grief with his wife at the loss of his unborn child.

He stayed by her hospital bed both day and night, assuring her that everything would be alright if she could just tell him what was wrong.

He was trying his best, but it was the first time in all their years together when Haru was the one doing most of the talking.

He tried to remain as optimistic as he could for the both of them: telling her that they could try for another child, that everything would get better now that she could remember.

But when it got late and when he thought she was asleep, she would overhear him asking Rei if his wife would ever be okay.

"She will," Rei reassured him. "But for now, we'll just have to let time do the healing."

She would be on her honeymoon by now.

Getting on the flight, at least.

Haru floated in the middle of the outdoor pool of his local gym, deserted because there was only one idiot in town that would be using it in this weather.

He lay on his back, watching a plane cross the sky and wondered if she were on it.

Was it Bali? Or the Maldives? He couldn't remember where she said she was going, because he didn't want to listen.

He told Rin that he would be unavailable to be the photographer for Gou's wedding after the rehearsal dinner. Some bullshit excuse about work commitments that Rin didn't take too well and Haru hadn't spoken or heard from the family since.

He didn't blame them for it. Gou and Rin's father had passed away when she was six – so naturally, Rin had taken on all the responsibility the father of the bride would and freaked out at the task of somehow finding a professional photographer in less than a week's notice.

Gou had not got in touch with him either – and that was enough of an answer for him.

He sold his parents house quickly, and moved into a tiny apartment in town. He converted the study into a studio, and spent most of his time in the darkroom or in the pool.

Work kept him busy, and swimming got him exhausted enough to sleep.

But even after all his efforts, he thought of her all the time.

He knew he was going crazy: unable to stop himself from imagining her laugh whenever he emerged from the bath in his swimsuit, or conjuring up the image of her on the sofa in front of the TV.

That was why it took a moment for him to realise it was actually her, sitting on his doorstep, waiting for him with a large, red suitcase in tow.

"Kou?"

"Hey," she smiled. "Remember me?"

"So now that you have your memory back – do you remember the name of that album you were gonna lend me?" was the first thing Nagisa said to Gou when he visited.

She hit him round the head, and then pulled him in for a hug.

Just under over week after her readmission, Rei signed her out of the hospital, deciding Gou was better off at home to start rebuilding her life.

As Haru had left his car back at their house in Iwatobi, they had called Makoto to give them a ride, and naturally, Nagisa tagged along.

"So you remember me? You remember everything?" he asked her tearfully, and Gou felt better already.

"Yep. And Rei says I can go home today too."

She smiled at Haru, who was looking on proudly and getting better every day.

It was because she had agreed to see a therapist – a slightly kooky but genius woman named Amakata Miho – who was helping her come to terms with the last couple of months.

She reminded Gou (with a series of random quotes that only sometimes made sense) that she still had so much more to live for, and it was standing right next to her in the form of loving husband.

"This calls for a celebration!" Nagisa announced and for once, everyone agreed.

"Maybe we should drop by a bar on the way back?" Makoto suggested. "Get a few drinks and catch up, maybe invite Zaki-chan and a few of your friends from work?"

"Vod-ka shots, vod-ka shots–!" Nagisa cheered, but before the group could make a move, Rei entered the ward with a clipboard in hand, announcing over the ruckus:

"–there won't be any of that! Gou-chan is not allowed to strain herself, let alone go out drinking with you, Nagisa!"

Predictably, the yellow haired boy whined and called him a kill-joy, but Haru agreed that she should be taking it easy and suggested taking her home for the night.

"One small drink won't hurt?" Gou nudged her husband playfully, sending pleading eyes at her doctor who simply held her hospital chart up in protest.

"I got your test results back," Rei explained, "and I really don't recommend drinking for a while..."

He looked so serious that the whole room hushed to his attention.

He smiled, and the group stared back at him, confused.

"...Congratulations, Gou-chan. You're pregnant."

They could hear the surf whisper up onto the shore, an eternal rhythm so soothing and nostalgic.

Their first daughter, a daddy's girl by no fault of her own, had crawled in between herself and Haru in the middle of the night and was fast asleep in his folded arms, her thumb in her mouth and her cheek against his chest.

Gou smiled down at them as she smoothed a hand over her protruding stomach, already tenting another tiny bump through the material of her nightgown.

She looked out towards the beach, beyond their garden, and was unable to recall a more perfect scene in her entire life.

It was the one thing in the world that she would never let herself forget.