She sits on the couch opposite him, leaning into the armrest, heavy book in her lap. Her feet, propped on the cushions, are adorned with red-and-blue striped socks. The house is absolutely silent save for her turning the pages every couple of minutes.

Quietly, Yamaken pulls out his phone and takes a picture. He can't help smiling at the result—the ridiculous socks make the shot, he decides.

"Yamaken-kun."

He nearly drops his phone. His face heating rapidly, he hisses, "What?"

"I… just had a question."

She didn't notice, did she? His camera? Keeping his expression carefully blank, he puts his phone down on the table, tucks his hair behind his ear, and meets her eye.

"Sure. What is it?"

She isn't quite sure what's up with him, but she's used to his sudden strange moods. She closes her book and taps her fingers rhythmically on the cover.

"I've been thinking lately, about love."

Of all things to bring up during a study session. Even after all this time, she never fails to keep him guessing.

"More specifically, romantic love. Being in love." Her face is completely serious as she says this, but Yamaken doesn't miss the brush of red on her cheeks, and he stifles a smile.

"The thing is, after all this time, I still don't know what being in love means. I was in love with Haru," she says easily, "and… you could say that I'm in love with you." (He fights to keep his face straight.) "But what I feel for you and what I felt for Haru are completely different. And I don't understand," she ends simply.

He smirks a little. "Just because they're different in some aspects doesn't mean they're not the same thing."

"I understand that. But…" She exhales softly, finding the words. "Being with Haru was like being constantly twisted around. I never felt the same thing for more than a minute. One moment I was happy, the next moment I was angry, and before I knew it I would be happy again. But in the long run, I really was happy," she adds with a trace of a smile.

"But with you," she continues, "to be honest, your presence is much smaller. Sometimes… when we're just quiet together like this, I forget I'm even with you. Whereas Haru would go to great lengths to make sure I remember he's in the room."

...What does he even say to that? Is she trying to break up with him?

"That really helps my self-confidence," he says slowly.

"No, no. I'm not trying to…" She purses her lips. "Forgive me, I'm going to be blunt. I wonder if I love you as much as I loved Haru."

He would be lying if he said that didn't upset him. What did she want from him, really? How many laps was she going to make him run until they could finally sit down together without the shadow of the past over them?

"So this is where I plead my case, is it?"

"On the contrary," Shizuku says, a small light in her eyes, "I don't need you to defend yourself. I have quite convinced myself that I am, in fact, in love with you. You don't need to worry."

Sitting here, in his living room. It's early evening; the light outside is a nostalgic grey. The walls are clean and white, the oak table between them has been polished to a fault. Her books are stacked in front of her in multiple colours, and there's a half-eaten plate of cookies innocently placed aside. Yamaken's insides tremble like he's heard, somewhere in the distance, an old song from his childhood.

"I'm not worrying," he says quietly.

Shizuku nods. "I just need to find out… why?"

Why, she asks. She always had to ask. She never could settle for the ambiguous answer. She never believed the answer could be ambiguous. It was frustrating, because it made him feel like he was trying to teach a stubborn child. But at times like these, when she didn't meet his eye, but stared up at the ceiling, searching the air for her answer, he liked being there to point her in the right direction.

"I think you're confused because as usual, you're being overly rigid," he says finally. "Intensity of a feeling does not equate to its validity."

He leans back in his seat, never taking his eyes off her.

"Tell me, Shizuku. Do you think there's value in silence and calm? In eating a meal together without exchanging a word?"

"At times, yes."

"But do you think there is also value in intensity? In raising your voice, and holding on so tight you never want to let go?"

She looks as surprised as he is at himself. But really, he's always had a lyrical, dramatic flair underneath his endless reserves of logic.

"I believe so," she says.

"But how can that be? How can such opposites be equally valid?" he asks, then smiles. "Things like love are too complicated to fit into simple boxes in your mind. It's hard to make sense of, and you don't have to make sense of it."

"I see. I see what you're getting at." He can see the gears ticking inside her head. When she finally nods cutely, he smiles to himself, thinking these moments of understanding are exactly what makes it worth being patient with her. He got so frustrated, sometimes. He couldn't believe her when she didn't understand things that were so obvious and simple. But.

He would be there for her to help her understand.

She's graceless. So clear-cut. Sometimes, caught up in himself, he forgets that that's exactly what he likes about her.

"It's always so easy with you," she says, almost to herself. "Before you, I was always stuck answering my own questions. How is it that you can always pinpoint what I've got wrong better than I can?"

Crossing his ankles over each other, he finally relaxes. "Despite your blank expressions, you're surprisingly easy to read."

"Really." She tilts her head. "Perhaps it's more that you're very good at reading people."

"Maybe… it's a combination of both."

She smiles, and it reaches her eyes. "That must be it." She sinks on the couch, lying down, facing him with that catlike gaze.

"Thanks, Yamaken-kun."

His heart beats in his chest, and he thinks of how they first met, and how never for a second did he expect that this would happen; that he would have changed so much, and that she would be his.

Questions and answers.

What does it mean to be in love, she'd asked.

He knows the answer to that.

a/n: pokes dead archive HELLO

I know I'm super late to the party but

I love this manga but GOSH did it make me feel conflicted

these two made me feel shipping feelings more intense than I have felt in a long time

cries

I will write as much about them as I want and you can't stop me

headcanons where he calls her shizuku but she doesn't call him kenji. because yamaken is so much cuter a name than kenji

cover drawn by me hehehe

not like this archive is very active at this point, but if you're out there, do drop me a word :)