Destined

The Fields

Koharu's POV

A week has passed since the collision, and to be honest, it seems like the two of them will never be friends, or even good teammates.

I've never seen Yuzu act so cold to anyone before.

Turning in the other direction whenever Tadashi approaches, not even giving a smile or a nod that he was accustomed to.

Tadashi would always smile sadly after that, as if he really wanted to be friends with Yuzu. It was sad, maybe they could get over their misunderstanding.

--How many pages are there left in this bloody book?--

For finals, I had a big test coming up on basic anatomy, because medical professionals can't forget the name of the thigh bone in real life.

But the books that I need to read up on...

It's a miracle how I even managed to juggle a boyfriend, my job, and school.

A happy floaty feeling washes over my mind as I lean on my desk, poking at a small pooh tsum tsum. He said it would bring good luck. That superstitious boy.

I hang the tiny plush to the same bag from which Kouji's fox hangs.

Kouji was my past, and Yuzu is my future.

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Yuzuru's POV

"Thank you Mum for the breakfast, I'll be leaving now," I call as I hoist the luggage down the steps, making sure to bring Pooh along.

I'm pretty sure he cried after I accidentally left him in the rink.

I leave my luggage on the doorstep as I knock on the familiar door.

I'm expecting my energetic girlfriend to come bounding up to me all happy and excited (I promised to bring her somewhere special after training today) but there's no sign of her.

I take out the key she entrusted me with and unlock the door quietly, poking my head around.

"Koharu?" I call, and there's a groan from her room.

Is she sick?

She's bundled up in her quilt, still snoozing away, adorable beyond words.

As if she never had a horrible past.

"My dear grasshopper, the sun's up and shining on your butt. Wake up," I whisper in her ear, pecking her cheek.

"Unghhhghhggh let me sleep"

"No, we gotta go"

Her Japanese is slurred and sounds weird while she's half awake, I notice.

"What is work, hell nawwwwwww" she procrastinates, trying to bury deeper into the bed while I draw the curtains, letting the light flow through the room.

I laugh as I pull the quilt away, as she writhes and grabs blindly for the warmth and comfort of the fluffy quilt.

Resigned, she sits on the bed, her eyes still closed, like she's denying that sleep is over.