Kaede flirts with everyone the same. You have watched her for some time, the manner in which she throws her posture, movements open, red hair flipping back with the loud rhythm of her own personal Aikatsu. Her eyes glint as she performs a trick and winks at her underclassman—your peer—with a sharply spoken, "This your card?" The girl gasps, nods, and entwines her fingers in delight, gushing about how absolutely incredible that was. Kaede takes her hands and kisses her on the cheek. Your stomach twists.
You know, of course, that it goes beyond mere cultural misunderstanding. You learned some time after her arrival that they do not kiss casually in America, no more than most other countries outside of Europe, which means that she has another motive. One that is not quite so benign.
The girl leaves, face flushed, and Kaede finally notices you. "Oh, Sakura! What's up?" Her hand raises in casual greeting before she jogs forward a bit, her orange tracksuit shifting and folding with motion. By the time she reaches you, you have already managed a smile.
A thousand thoughts cross your mind: you will never be good enough for her, you simply are not enough for her, you should resign yourself to that fact and give up. You voice none of these. "I was only taking a short break from my training, Kaede-sama." Her name flows out your lips naturally, the crunch of maple leaves between your teeth.
She nods vigorously. "Good work, then. Keep it up!" You can only guess at the meaning of her words, sprinkled with English, but she leaves no room for extended thought. In an instant, she leans close, and just the same as that girl before you can feel the warm press of lips to your cheek, face heating up in turn to the acceleration of your heart. Before she can let go, you grab her sleeve.
"Sakura?" Her tone dips concernedly, brow pressed. You can feel her warmth as she stands so near to you. If you pressed your hand to her chest, you might feel the beat of her heart, but would it match the tempo of your own? You feel tears begin to well up, and shake them off.
For all the things you could say, all the words you have kept to yourself, at this moment you find yourself at a loss. For all the things you could say, you only speak two short, simple phrases. "I like you," and, "I'm sorry." You cannot bear to face her as you are, but she does not make you wait long, even as each second stretches into an eternity. Your fingers slacken their grip on her jacket.
"I like you too!" she responds, and you feel a familiar, bitter feeling in your abdomen, sure that she does not mean it in the same vein. She must have mistaken your words, or...—
Your thoughts stop right there, because she kisses you.
Her lips are warm and soft and you can feel every nagging insecurity melt away, if only for now, lulled by her proximity and the sensation of her hand gently gripping your shoulder. When you part, you are not sure what expression lays on your features, only aware of a flush creeping across, but your chest is blooming as your eyes meet hers and as she says that you are her number one, you always have been, you find the tension in your torso easing.
Kaede may flirt with everyone, but not equally, because you are the one she comes home to at the end of the day. And as long as that remains true, you can be at ease.
