seven reasons to fall | hitachiin

Seventh

THE way Kaoru Hitachiin would hold her when no one else was around was all it took to make Shiori's knees weak and her heart pound. The way his touch was unexpectedly gentle; his words unexpectedly soft, was enough to leave her guessing about him.

Shiori couldn't have guessed that he would have a fondness for pet-names or a penchant for knowing exactly what food would be perfect for dinner that night or that no matter what she said, even teasingly, he would always trust her.

But he did.

When he first said 'I love you' out loud it was an accident, but he meant it nonetheless. They were fighting, it was ridiculous but, nonetheless, she shook and gestured so wildly that she'd spilled her coffee down her shirt. Shiori's words, always carefully planned, were quick and fumbling. She'd meant to say "I love you, too", though what really came out was "Je t'aime" and Kaoru, who'd dropped his conversational French class, didn't quite recognize whether or not she was still fuming.

It was a secret to all, save for the host club, when the two began their relationship. Shiori, who never did find the limelight all that suitable for her, truly didn't mind. It just meant more moments to themselves; more secrets to be coveted and intimate whispers to share. She was delighted to call herself his girlfriend, even if it were only to her reflection. In fact, she could hardly remember ever feeling something so strongly in her life.

Kaoru, the reason behind the coveted nature of their relationship, minded just a bit. He'd been physical ever since childhood and more so with others since he'd had his first kiss with Shiori, in front of all his friends. He wasn't expecting something so personal to be ripped away, just like that. And it was hard, to talk pleasantly without her in the hallways and try not to notice how the air seemed to fill with bubbles and the room seemed to get, well, pinker, when she was around. When he let himself hug her in public, he'd give one to every other girl in the room. But when he'd have to stop himself from holding her hand, his fingers tapping without something to hold onto, his girlfriend would always be ready to slip a cupcake-shaped sticky note into his palm, riddled with inky hearts: 'it's okay, we'll be fine :)'.

And they were.

They were fine even on the drive back from Yokohama, where her sister was staying, when Shiori's knuckles were a stark white against the steering wheel and she was so obviously crying but pretending not to. Kaoru didn't quite know what to do but be there, and that was enough. Things got easier on the second and third visits, too, and soon enough her grip on the steering wheel grew softer; a  familiar glow came back into her eyes.

They were fine in Third Year, when Kaoru mustered up the courage to mention the teeny-tiny infatuation he had with Ootori Kyoya years before. Shiori laughed and responded with an "I don't know what you see in him, but I'm lucky that I got to you first", but her acceptance meant more than that to Kaoru and they both knew it.

It was later that he introduced her to his parents. The initial meeting was awkward and fumbling on her part, they seemed to know everything about her and more (whether that was due to Kaoru or to Ootori himself was anyone's guess) while she knew nothing about them. But Shiori became her best, most polite self, and they took to her immediately.

Even if their relationship was something that couldn't be as open as they liked, they got on. They relished in these moments together and even more in moments they shared with others. Uncharacteristic for children born wealthy, the two persevered and trusted and loved, creating something only they had the privilege to be proud of.

After graduation, Kaoru and his friends went abroad to study in America. Shiori didn't. She couldn't.

They tried to make it work— it didn't; couldn't. There was something about the distance that made things so much harder. After nearly three years of a secret relationship, public displays of affection became something to look forward to. But when you were across an entire ocean, 'I love you' texts became less of a reassurance and more of a consolation and, suddenly, neither of them could explain why they were no longer able to hop on one of multiple private jets to see one another.