WildFire

24

If you had to say, awkwardness wasn't enough to describe the air between you and Kunimi. What was the word for wanting to cry and laugh at the same time? Why was your heart pounding so loudly? You thought about what your mother had said to you that day–the word of love had never really left your mind.

It could have meant childhood-and-first-ever-true-friend kind of love, but somehow that glint in her eyes said otherwise.

"Walk with me?" Kunimi asked, nodding his head at the path down the side of Aoba Johsai. Right. He lived close to you. Come to think of it, you had never learned where he lived. Another wave of regret and bitterness passed through you–how could you be so close to him, yet know almost nothing about him?

"I–um–sure," you stammered, tugging on your Aoba Johsai jacket you had thrown on nervously. The turquoise and blinding white of it didn't really help calm your nerves.

Kunimi snorted as you hurried to keep up with his longer strides, and you two walked in silence.

You kept stealing nervous glances in his direction, wanting to say something, but couldn't figure out what you could possibly say. Everything that came to mind sounded dumb. Acting like nothing had happened was just inconsiderate–at least that was what you would think–but it was so hard to think of anything else.

Perhaps a question to ask how he's been doing?

Yes, that was good–at least better than most of the suggestions bouncing around in your nervous mind. At least it would end this suffocating silence.

You opened your mouth to speak, but instead of asking how he had been doing, different words spilled out of your mouth. Apparently now you could just blurt out things without your brain checking them first.

"You can say it, you know," you muttered, not looking at Kunimi.

Your face flushed as you realized what you had said, and you clamped a hand over your mouth. What the heck? Out of anything you could've said, those particular words were the ones that tumbled out of your mouth?

"Say what?" Kunimi asked, his voice confused.

You covered your entire face with your hands, leaving little slits so you didn't trip and fall on your face. You couldn't back out now, it would be even more embarrassing.

"I told you so," you said, peeking at Kunimi through your fingers. His eyebrows were raised questioningly, as if he couldn't possibly understand what you were saying. "You can say I told you so."

"I know you must've been thinking it," you continued, your voice getting softer as you stated your accusation.

Kunimi stopped for a second, tilting his head at you. He was so tall now that you were sure it must ache to look down for too long. He seemed to be considering what to say, and that made you even more anxious.

"I was thinking about it," Kunimi admitted, tugging on his parted hair. He laughed bitterly, and a sour smile spread across his features, "but that would just make me a jerk, wouldn't it?"

You laughed, surprised with yourself. "You were always a jerk," you replied playfully, hitting his arm gently. He shot you an offended look and you giggled again, feeling your anxiety melt away like snow. "But you're also my best friend."

Best friend. You have now said it. In your elementary years, you were so afraid of saying best friend–afraid he was going to reject that idea, or laugh in your face. But the words slipped out so easily now. Was it because now that he seemed to have forgiven you? Was it because you thought nothing could be worse at the anxiety picking inside of you in the three years you were gone? Was it because you were determined to not let Kunimi slip through your fingers again?