An Arranged Marriage//(GIYUSANE)

CHAPTER 34|| 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

As I stepped out of the shower, I felt the cool air against my skin, a refreshing end to my routine. Sanemi promised to let me know where we would meet up.

As I got dressed, I picked up my phone, missing the sound of Sanemi's voice. I longed for the way he used to call me, his voice soft yet deep. The way he spoke earlier felt different, and it unsettled me a little.

I miss him so much. I want him to hold me tight again, to feel his arms wrapped around me from behind.
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I scanned the park, searching for the familiar face I longed to see, when my eyes landed on someone leaning against a car, looking as though they were waiting for someone. It was Sanemi.

"Hey!" I called out with a smile, and he returned it, though it wasn't quite the same smile he used to give me when we woke up in the same bed. Was I being too dramatic? Maybe this is just how it feels when you miss someone deeply.

"Let's go," he said, slipping his hand into his pocket.

"Where to? I thought we were going to talk here," I replied, my brow furrowing in confusion.

"I changed my mind," he said, turning away. "There are too many people here," he added, heading toward his car.

I followed him into the car, and he started driving. The silence was almost palpable, only interrupted by the sound of our breathing. I wanted to break it, but I didn't know how.

"Giyuu," he whispered suddenly.

"Yes?"

"How did we meet?" His question caught me off guard, and I hesitated. Should I make up a story?

"We met at the arcade," I said, glancing over at him. "We bumped into each other. It wasn't the best first meeting, but we became friends after discovering that your father and my dad were friends. We started hanging out after that." It wasn't the most convincing story, but it was all I could come up with. I couldn't tell him about our arranged marriage.

"That's it?" he chuckled, seemingly amused.

"Yes. You almost punched me when we first met, but Obanai and Masachika stopped you," I added, recalling the memory.

"Obanai and Masachika? Who are they?" he asked, puzzled.

"They were your first friends before me," I explained. He looked at me, trying to remember.

"I don't have any contacts in my phone besides Mom, Dad, and Genya," he said, returning his focus to the road. Suddenly, a car swerved dangerously close to us.

"Sanemi!" I shouted in panic, but he skillfully dodged it, though I was left shaken.

"What—" I started, but stopped short at the sight of his face. It was a mix of fear and revelation, a look I recognized from stormy nights.

"Are you okay?" I asked, concerned.

"Giyuu," he said, a grin spreading across his face, which confused me.

"I remembered something! The...day i got hit by a bus?"

Of all the things to remember, why the traumatic ones?

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In the serene and enchanting garden behind his house, Sanemi found solace. It was a secluded haven, devoid of servants or visitors—a place where he could embrace solitude.

"It's beautiful here," I remarked, gazing at the sun as it dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink.

"Yeah," he replied, his voice soft and contemplative. "This place brings me peace. It's tranquil yet feels a bit empty. I don't usually let anyone in, but you're the first. You said we're friends." He turned to me with a genuine smile that warmed the cool evening air.

As the sun surrendered to the night, the moon ascended, casting a gentle glow over the garden.

We talked like friends beneath the stars, our conversation flowing effortlessly.

"The moon," he mused, eyes fixed on its luminous surface. "I've always loved looking at it. It used to feel so empty, but now it seems complete. Maybe it's because I have friends with me." His smile was sincere, reflecting the moon's light.

Friends, yes. But I couldn’t shake the memory of when we both watched the moon together, deeply in love.

"Right," I agreed, my gaze shifting to him, feeling the weight of unspoken memories between us.

"Hey, what if we're actually more than just friends?" The words slipped out before I could even think them through.

"What?" he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"More than friends, huh? Are you suggesting we're...boyfriends?" he continued, trying to piece together my sudden outburst.

I hesitated. Could I really say that? Ever since the day he left, our relationship had been undefined, yet our love for each other had always been profound.

"If we were lovers, there must have been a reason I fell for you," he mused, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I've lost my memories, but if they come back and I remember you're my lover, I'd probably fall in love with you all over again. It's a strange question, though, and I wonder why I even bothered to answer it." He chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood.

"Sanemi," I said, my voice trembling as I looked at him. My heart pounded fiercely, and tears began to well up in my eyes.

Our arranged marriage had woven a bond so deep that it blossomed into genuine love. I believed that if his memories ever returned, he would remember everything—the laughter, the shared moments, the quiet understanding between us. Even if he found my words strange now, I held onto the hope that those memories would eventually resurface, guiding him back to me like a beacon through the fog of forgetfulness.

"Hey, are you crying—"

His question was cut short as I leaned in and pressed my lips to his, hoping to convey all the emotions words couldn't express.

I closed my eyes, half-expecting him to pull away. But instead, he did the opposite—he drew me closer, holding me tight as he deepened the kiss.

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