courage dear heart | Yuki Ishikawa

33

I stared at my wardrobe, searching for inspiration.

And now, what do I pack for over a week at the Ishikawa family's house?

If I had known, I would've bought something new.

There was a knock at the door, and I went to open it.

Yuki walked in, suitcase already packed. I looked at him with a pout.

He raised an eyebrow as he sat on the bed. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know what clothes to bring," I said, flopping onto the bed, burying my face in the pillows.

I heard him laugh. "Anything is fine."

I lifted my head just enough to glare at him. "No, it's not. I don't have any clothes!"

He glanced at my open wardrobe. "Looks like a lot of clothes to me."

I groaned, pressing my face deeper into the pillow. "You don't understand."

He laughed again and moved closer, gently rubbing my back. "If you want, once we're at my parents' place, we can go out and buy something new."

I peeked up at him, a smile spreading across my face. "Yes!" I jumped up, suddenly full of energy, and started packing my pajamas, a pair of shoes, and some of my favorite outfits, while Yuki watched, amused.

Once I'd finished packing, I collapsed onto the bed, wrapping my arms around Yuki, ready to fall asleep since we had to wake up early the next day.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The plane ride was like always—I slept the entire time. Honestly, it's better this way, especially with Yuki cuddling me the whole time.

I snuggled into him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest as I drifted back into a peaceful sleep, knowing that soon we'd arrive at his family's home. The thought of spending the holidays with them made my heart race a little, but Yuki's warmth kept me grounded, and I couldn't help but feel a bit more excited than nervous.

As I stepped off the plane and into the bustling airport, I felt my heart race a little. My bag felt heavier than usual, not because of what was inside, but from the nerves that had settled in my chest.

It was my first time meeting Yuki's father, and the idea of spending the holidays with his family was still sinking in.

Mayu walked ahead, leading the way with her easy confidence, while Yuki lingered beside me, offering me a comforting smile every now and then. He could sense my nerves.

"There he is," Mayu said, her voice cutting through my thoughts.

I looked up and spotted a tall man standing near the arrivals gate, his hands tucked casually into his coat pockets. He had the same calm, composed look Yuki often wore on his face.

He waved when he saw us, and my stomach did a little flip.

We walked over, and Yuki's father stepped forward, first pulling Mayu into a warm hug, then clapping Yuki on the shoulder with a proud smile. Then, his eyes turned to me.

"Nabi, right? I've heard a lot about you," he said, his voice deep and kind, with the same warmth that his children carried.

I nodded and tried to smile, but I could feel my face heating up. "Yes, it's nice to meet you, Mr. Ishikawa." I gave a small bow, feeling a bit stiff and awkward, though he didn't seem to mind.

He chuckled softly, waving his hand as if to brush away any formality. "Call me Yuto. No need to be so formal. We're happy to have you with us for the holidays."