In retrospect this is the funniest part of his route. Local acting genius unable to tell the difference between lovesickness and actual oncoming flu symptoms, someone please save him from himself.
And that same bud bore fruit, because pain and love had bloomed as a part of his "flower", and Sarafumi Takashina was all the more beautiful for it.
Wanting to find a place where Kisa could relax, Fumi scopes out a mansion hosting a garden of azaleas to take her to next spring. But the trip seems to have only pronounced his feelings further towards the ghost that could be.
Written for the FUMIKISA zine: A Summer in Bloom
(fumi, kisa, fumikisa, フミキサ, tsuki, post-2nd affection event, takes place during summer break, original folktale, grief?, anxiety, author made an attempt to write flirting, 5.7k words)
It was spring when the person Fumi admired so dearly left him—and it was also spring, the day he first met Kisa.
Gazing at her for the first time, the scent of cherry blossoms had tickled his nose, as if saying for her:
"Nice to meet you."
That was the day Fumi felt a budding premonition within his heart, the unassuming sapling planted with gentle care. But despite the uncertainty of its existence, he decided to look forward to what kind of joy it would bring him, unaware that it would also be a cause for pain.
What kind of flower would it bloom to be? What shape would it take? What colour would it be dyed with?
For the first time in a long, long while, Fumi had felt like a pure child, excitedly awaiting the day he witnessed it flourish in full vitality.
He hoped that this one wouldn't leave him too.
Sometime after Fumi had first enrolled in Univeil, a certain senior had taken him out to Nakakoji. Despite his protests, he still went along with that senior, all the while grumbling away.
"There's no need for me to go with you! Besides, I said I'd beat you, didn't I? I should be using the time to train."
"Seeing the sights of the outside for yourself and taking the time to appreciate them will result in the world being broadened before you. So in a way, you can count it as training, Fumi."
But while he appeared reluctant on the outside, a part of his heart had been tickled, feeling special that the senior who usually kept to himself had voluntarily extended an invitation to Fumi.
"There, you see? Aren't they beautiful?"
Beneath the trees that showed signs of a matured spring, Tsuki had pointed overhead to the rows of morning glories on display. The sight of the vibrantly coloured, trumpet-shaped flowers had become a permanent part of Fumi's spring, as well as the person who stood beside him that day.
So even as those memories now belied a sense of loss beyond the nostalgia, the experience had become a treasured part of him and his time in Univeil.
He hoped to give Kisa something just as precious.
As he pulled himself out of his reminiscing, the hot, humid air of summer draped over his memories like a blanket, and he realized that the spring he loved wasn’t here anymore.
A chime rang in his ears, accompanied by the buzz of cicadas. He looked up to see his awaited destination.
"This must be the mansion Su was talking about." Sharp red eyes assess the building before him. "It looks as impressive as they say."
Towering before him is a traditional Japanese mansion of splendour and old, surrounded by moderately tall wooden beams barring entry to trespassers. A few tourists flitted in and out of the mansion, signalling that it was open for business.
Fumi saw that the chime he heard earlier came from a wind chime hanging beside the archway leading into the mansion, and alongside it, a sign reading "The azaleas are not in season."
'Well, I figured as much.'
It was only recently that he'd heard of this mansion. Suzu had been sharing interesting tidbits about his recent discoveries in Tamasaka, and casually mentioned a mansion boasting a beautiful array of azaleas that caught the interest of tourists during mid-spring. Wanting to check it out for himself, Fumi took what little time he had left of his summer break to make the trip.
The mansion in question was built deep within the quiet of Nakakoji, meaning fewer people—and fewer eyes.
If possible, he wanted to bring Kisa here with him next spring.
When the time comes, will she agree and say "yes" with a smile, the way she always does? Or will she reject him, holding someone else in mind?
Doubt shadows over his heart at the wish, but pushing it aside, Fumi strode under the archway and into the front lawn, coming face-to-face with a staff member dressed in a simple kimono.
"Greetings." The smile he receives is well-practiced, but quickly after, he sees the young man stiffen slightly. He's been recognized. "Is this your first time here?"
The question is asked for formalities' sake, the man knowing full well that Fumi has never made a prior visit. Because if it wasn't, he would have remembered someone as eye-catching as him.
Fumi plays along. "Yup. I know the azaleas aren't in season right now, but I thought I'd take a proper look around here before next spring."
"If that's the case, would you like me to give you a tour? While it's true there are no flowers to see, the mansion is beautiful enough a building to explore on its own."
"I'll take you up on that." Fumi hands him a couple of yen notes to pay for the tour fee. "Thanks."
"You're welcome." The staff member, now turned guide, makes way for Fumi, stepping aside as he gestures to the main entrance of the mansion. "This way, if you would."
Fumi follows his lead. Both of them step inside and are immediately greeted with the sight of the mansion's refined interior, intentionally designed for ample light to fill up the house. Sunlight generously pours past the shoji doors, bathing the hallways and furniture with a gentle glow, despite summer's harsh sun.
It made the house look invitingly warm and cozy.
Guiding him down the hallways, the guide explained:
"The merchant who built this paid special attention to the interior, and played a proactive hand in its design."
Everything spoke silently, without needing words, about what kind of home that merchant must have wanted.
Still, despite the differences, Fumi couldn't help but be reminded of his old home, the same one where he grew up. Of course, people from the outside weren't allowed in, and he's sure his ancestors would rather claw their way out of their graves before letting the prestigious house belonging to the Takashina family become a tourist spot.
Fumi chuckled quietly to himself, the tremor of it bittersweet in his own mouth.
"How long has the mansion been maintained by you guys?"
"Around several decades. While it has been here for longer than that, it was only recently made into an attraction after the previous landlord decided to sell it off."
"For such an old mansion..." Fumi's eyes take in what's around him, clearly impressed. "...You guys did a great job at preserving the place."
Fumi hears the smile in the guide's voice, as he replies with "Thank you for your kind words, sir," before passing by the flight of stairs that led to the second floor, which was off-limits to the public. They then entered a room that faced outwards from the mansion. "The veranda is just beyond this room, where you'll be able to see the mansion's prized garden."
Placing his hand on the shoji door leading out, the guide slid it open with a satisfying thud.
"Ah…"
A warm breeze immediately caressed his face, followed by a faint scent of something floral he couldn't quite recognize. In front of him was a veranda that overlooked a wide and spacious garden, with shrubs of green carefully lined by the gravel paths. Those must be the azalea shrubs, no doubt. But as expected, they're not in bloom.
The guide stood off at the side as Fumi stepped out to the veranda.
"It's not spring, but it's still well-taken care of."
"But of course. There's no point in taking care of a garden only for a single season."
Something meant to be shown off to others is something that must be polished regularly without tire, regardless if those efforts will be properly appreciated.
This applies not only to this garden, but talent. It's a sentiment he feels familiar with.
Snip, snip, snip.
The lush shrubs are pruned carefully, and their shapes are cut down to be appealing to the eyes of others.
As a result, the carefully maintained garden is indeed pleasing to the sight, even without the rumoured azaleas. It was worth coming all the way here despite the miserable heat. By the time the next spring comes around, he's sure that the sight of the mansion surrounded by vibrant flowers will be even more beautiful.
That's when Fumi remembers something. It had come up briefly when he asked Suzu more about the mansion.
"The old man who told me about this mentioned something about, uh..." Suzu had pondered over his memories, scratching the side of his head. A few of them had been training together in the dance room, and were taking a break when the topic came up. "Something about the reason why the mansion still occasionally receives visits from the locals… a story? I wanted to ask him, but he had to go off somewhere before I got the chance!"
"Sounds interesting. Mind telling me where this mansion is?"
Suzu had answered him enthusiastically, "Of course not!"
That was how Fumi had ended up here.
"Mind humoring me for a little?" He turned his head to face his guide, while bringing his knuckles up to his mouth. It's a movement that exudes allure, capturing the guide's attention. "I heard that there was a certain story concerning this mansion. Know anything about it?"
"Aaah...." With a knowing look, the guide involuntarily smiled. "Yes, that one. I know about it, and you're not the first person to ask me about it as well."
The guide motioned to the edge of the veranda before taking a seat. Following suit, Fumi sat down as well.
"It's the story of the azalea mansion you're looking for. Do you remember what I told you earlier? This mansion was built by a merchant. Specifically, he built it after he got married to his wife."
They married out of love, but the merchant's wife had come from far away beyond Tamasaka to be wed, and missed her hometown dearly. As time passed, they gradually had more misunderstandings within their relationship.
It got to the point that the merchant would spend more time away at work, afraid of confronting his wife—and afraid that her homesickness would make her leave him one day.
Wanting to soothe her somehow, he built her a garden of azaleas.
The azaleas were a purifying white, and the merchant's wife loved them. Whenever she had free time, she would tend to them, ensuring that they flourished healthily.
But tragedy struck. While the merchant was out at work, the wife had an accident and died after breaking her neck by falling off the stairs of the house. One could only look at it as misfortune dealing its hand.
The servants, afraid of their master's reaction should he learn what happened, decided to hide away the wife's body and buried it as quickly as they could.
Once the merchant had returned from work, the servants made an excuse, saying that the wife had immediately arranged a trip to her hometown after receiving a letter stating that her parents were deathly ill. Accepting the excuse with a heavy heart, the merchant decided to wait for his wife's return.
"I hope that when you return, the azaleas will be in full bloom."
But after a few months had passed without so much as a word from her, doubt began to creep upon the merchant's heart.
"Did you leave me? Did you finally grow tired of me?"
And yet, he stubbornly continued to wait for her.
"Were you really not happy with me?"
Despite the merchant's loneliness, he sought comfort in the fact that the azaleas were blooming more vibrantly than ever.
"I miss you."
In his wife's stead, he began to take care of the garden she loved.
More than a year passed, and when spring arrived again, he saw that their once pure white petals had been dyed a vibrant red.
A few years later, as he was digging through the soil of the garden...
...he found her skeleton buried beneath the azaleas she loved.
This is the story of a man who loved and longed deeply for his wife, without knowing she had already left the world behind.
The story drew to a close.
As the guide's words began to trail off to put an end to the tale, Fumi became acutely aware of the scent of foliage surrounding him, as well as the wind that whistled through the silence.
All of a sudden, the guide laughed. "It's just a story passed down by the mansion's caretakers, however. So there's no proof of it being a true tale."
"...You're quite the storyteller. Is this something you do often?"
The guide's smile seemed somewhat proud. "It's a very popular story among the visitors, so many people who visit the mansion ask about it. Couples, especially."
"Oh?"
Fumi leaned forward as a sign of wanting to hear more, intrigued, and the guide was momentarily flustered by the action, despite being a member of the same sex. Coughing, the guide continued to elaborate.
"Ahem! Before the merchant died, he asked to be buried alongside his wife in the same garden. So the garden itself symbolizes "a love that rejoices even after death," and it's not only couples who are drawn to the story; families have expressed their sentiments for it as well."
Because humans want to believe they'll see each other again, no matter what.
Wouldn't it be nice to trust in an eventual reunion, even in death?
'...I'd rather it not have to come to that.'
Instead of glorifying a love that transcends death, he would rather cherish the present where she smiles brightest.
Reading into his silence, the guide said, "I'm guessing you're not too taken by the story?"
"I wouldn't say that." Yes. Rather, it's the opposite. But there's no need to lay himself bare to a stranger, so he decided to end the conversation. "Thanks a ton for playing along with my curiosity, and for guiding me around the mansion."
The young man shook his head. "I thank you too, for taking an interest in the mansion," to which he adds, "Once people hear that Sarafumi Takashina has visited us, I'm sure more locals—especially Univeil fans—will come for a tour by next spring."
"..."
'Dammit, so that was his plan.'
He wanted to laugh in frustration but refrained. The entire reason why Fumi chose this place was so that Kisa could be at ease at a place with fewer people, but it looks like he's only made it worse for her.
Not wanting to let him get away with this, Fumi clicked his tongue. "Don't I get some sort of commission fee for being shown off? Quartz's Al Jeanne doesn't come cheap, you know?"
Instead of answering him directly, he's handed a ticket—no wait, two tickets, which offered free entryway to the mansion.
"This is not nearly enough."
"I'm sorry." The staff member did not look sorry. "If you'd like, I could also give you a refund for the tour fee earlier."
Fumi sighed.
"Fine, I'll take them, but I won't be accepting the refund." Fumi waved him away. "I'm done with the tour, so do as you please."
Standing up from the veranda, the staff member bowed, saying "Thank you for your patronage," before heading back into the mansion, but not before saying, "I'll be glad to give you another tour should you come back here again, as well as whoever you may bring with you."
"I won't need it."
The soft padding of footsteps fades away, and Fumi finds himself alone on the veranda.
A breeze flows, and the tickets rustle in his hand. Will the day when he uses them ever come at this rate?
He's not sure.
Anxiety gnaws at his heart, creating a festering wound, and once again, Fumi finds himself at the mercy of the silence that caves in on him.
The more he's left alone, the more often this happens—getting lost in thought, that is.
He wants to blame it on the summer heat. Because it makes him drowsy. Because it wears down his iron will, making him remember things at the worst of times, and...
"I really do like you."
Because it gives him a fever.
But he's not a child who chooses to blame everything else but himself. He is anything but so. His awareness and maturity are his weapons, even if sometimes they feel closer to an accessory that strangled at his throat.
So when he sinks into the quagmire of his mind, he gives in without the defiance that used to be associated with him, and sees her beyond the haze.
She's staring out at the distance, eyes aimlessly reaching far away, as if searching for something familiar to ground her steady on the shaky path she treads upon by her own choice.
He sees her with that expression sometimes, and he understood the meaning of it well; sees the same face in his own reflection, as he closes the message app.
She must be waiting for someone like he is.
And if she ever found them one day, surely, surely, she'll go to their side, right?
But every time that thought took hold of him, not once did he ever approach her. Or rather, he couldn't.
Because the idea of him confronting that what-if scared him, as if it'd become reality the moment he held it in his hands.
Looking up at the sky, as if hoping to meet the gaze of the divine, Fumi couldn't help but uncharacteristically pray in his head:
'Kisa, don't leave without saying goodbye.'
It's a selfish wish, one he considers unlike him. After all, if Kisa wanted to go somewhere far, far away, to a place where she could be happier, there was no way he could stop her.
But the bud that had been planted since spring had already taken root in his heart, deeply so.
'I'm scared you'll disappear without me knowing.'
All of a sudden, Fumi feels a pressure wrapping around his chest, as if his heart were being gripped tightly by a fist. He became much more aware of the pulse of his heartbeat against his ribcage, firm and suffocating with each beat, and began to take deep, slow breaths to calm down.
'It's okay. Relax. Calm down.' The words he uses to reassure himself follow in rapid succession, but his discordant heartbeats do not settle. The buzz of cicadas grows only louder, and more incessant. 'She's not gone. Kisa is still with us. So calm down.'
Inhale, exhale.
Out of the corner of his eye, he thinks he sees a ghost—no, it's not a ghost. It's a memory in the form of a summer's mirage. The mirage of him.
One day it could be her.
Inhale, exhale.
"Haaah..."
Now wholly frustrated with himself, Fumi runs a free hand through his hair, before proceeding to ruffle it aggressively. Restlessness is apparent in his expression. It's a display of patheticness he hopes to never show Kisa.
"Geez, this isn't like me at all. When was the last time I got this riled up...ah, crap."
That's when he realizes that the hand holding the tickets has balled up into a fist, and unfurls it to reveal two crumpled pieces of paper—the measly fruits of his outing. Sighing again, he smooths them over as he stands up.
It's at times like these, he needs to move his body. To take action. Nothing will change if he stands wallowing around in fear and anxiety, he tells himself, as he stretches out his limbs as if to release the tension that's gathered within him, his muscles itching for a dance.
The world stops for no one, and he must move along with it.
'I have to make my own wishes come true.'
With that, he reaffirms his resolve.
Preparations for the fall performance will start immediately once summer break ends, and Fumi has to prepare himself for the worst. Because he is the face of Quartz, their Al Jeanne, and their proud banner.
If a precious jewel is cut down to the right shape, it can refract a ray of hope forward for all. He needs to be that kind of jewel.
Fumi leaves the mansion, and his footsteps are spelled out in sounds that slowly transition from the soft crumple of grass, to the crunch of the gravel from the sidewalk. The trail he leaves behind creates a path like no other.
"I will pave the way forward for you. For all of you."
'So that all of you can cherish and proudly call Quartz your precious place.'
He's left the mansion through the entrance, his back turned towards it. But he only makes it a few steps down the block before casting his gaze over his shoulder at the building. Compared to the first time he saw it, the way it now towered over him looked strangely intimidating, as if it were mournfully glaring down at him.
At that moment, their shadows no longer overlapped.
In his line of sight was a koi bracelet adorning a slender wrist.
Not the one he's wearing, but the one he gave to Kisa on Christmas.
"I wished for you to be happy."
Golden lashes flutter, framing scarlet eyes that seemed to gleam. The direction of their gaze is fixed on the person sitting across from him, as it always has been and always will be.
The rustle of pages fills the air, and spontaneously, Fumi calls out to Kisa.
"Found anything interesting?"
She looks up from the script in her hands, one from Fumi's 2nd year, and he sees her eyes curve into moons as the corner of her lips lifts. It's the smile she makes when she's content—the kind of expression that only theatre can draw out of her, much to his childish jealousy.
She answers, "Yes!" The voice that rings in his ears is clear and pleasant, chiming in his ears. "I knew Univeil had archived scripts of their own, but this is my first time actually looking through one. They're a different kind of interesting compared to the scripts Neji-senpai has written for us."
"Ahaha, that's true. Kuro's signature...flavour, if you could call it that, isn't something you can find anywhere else, after all."
"That, and..."
She stops reading, hovering her fingers hesitantly, before tracing them gently over the pages with care. It's not just her fingers; her eyes look over her object of endearment with just as much softness.
"You wrote down a lot of notes."
He wonders what the "Fumi" of back then looks like in her eyes right now. It could even be a side of him he's never met himself.
With Kisa, he could never quite predict what she'd discover about him next.
"When I'm reading them, it's like I'm talking with the you I never got to meet."
Ah, so the reason for the joy in her eyes was because of him too.
He hides the triumph in his heart.
"I'm sure you're curious about the old me and all, but..." He reaches across the table to tilt the script down from her eyes, prompting her to look up at him. Playfully tilting his head, he says, "I do hope you won't forget your boyfriend who's sitting right here."
Her cheeks flush, looking like a lovely flower stained with red—his red. It's adorable, but his heart is conflicted.
"I won't."
As she turned to the next page, a rustle could be heard, followed by two small pieces of paper fluttering down on the floor from the open script in Kisa's hands.
"Hm?" She picks them up, before realizing that they weren't just a pair of poorly made bookmarks. "Are these tickets?"
In that instant, Fumi froze.
"Hold up. Could you pass them over here for a sec?"
"?" The unusual agitation she sees on his face sparks both confusion and a sense of urgency. Quickly, she hands them over. "S-Sure, here you go..."
Fumi gracefully extends his arms across the table that separates them and plucks the tickets away from her offered hands. He looks over them for a moment, before his eyes twitch imperceptibly.
"...Fumi-san?"
She hears him chuckle.
"I'm a fool. I can't believe I completely forgot about these."
Curious, she asks, "Um, what are those tickets for?"
By the open window, the scent of spring wafts faintly.
On Fumi's face is a rare expression of exasperation and...nervousness? She's been seeing more of those often lately—the expressions that Fumi usually tries not to show her, that is.
It's a sign that they're growing closer. Much like the fact that the home Kisa finds herself in belongs to Fumi.
Though she still has yet to use the key.
"These..." He flips them up for her to see, revealing a small illustration of an old town mansion. "...are tickets for access to a mansion which showcases a prized azalea garden. I got them some time ago, but..."
A wry smile forms on his lips, and his eyes seem to carry an uncharacteristic shadow of helplessness.
"I wasn't sure if I should use them, so I ended up using them as bookmarks."
And so, the fate of the tickets forgotten by Sarafumi Takashina was reduced to bookmarks pressed between the pages of a nearly forgotten script. Quite the lamentable end.
Or so it appeared to be.
"Was the showing supposed to be during spring?"
"Hm? Yeah, they were. The azaleas should be in full bloom in about two weeks, around mid-April."
Kisa is curious how and when Fumi had acquired those tickets, but more than that...
She also sensed that there were other reasons, excluding forgetfulness, that made Fumi tuck the tickets away, especially when he could have just given them to someone else. Maybe it has something to do with the familiar friend she sees in his eyes.
Their shadows stretched long across the living room, aided by the late afternoon sun. Her eyes travel over their outlines as Kisa loses herself in her thoughts, wondering what was the best way to address the unseen ghost that seemed to hold on to his shoulders.
Dissatisfied by her lack of apparent attention, Fumi reaches out to her.
"Kisa~?" He pokes her cheek, startling her out of her dazed state. Fumi must have noticed her thoughts had gotten worked up, flashing her a teasing grin. "What are you thinking of right now? It'd be better if you said what's on your mind instead of worrying all alone, don't you think?"
She glances up at him. Fumi's smiling at her, casually assuring her while keeping the mood light enough not to pressure her into speaking. He's a master at his craft, because meeting his eyes is all it takes for her to start speaking slowly.
"Fumi-san, did you…get two tickets for a reason?" She felt embarrassed, understanding that the implication beneath her question was self-centered. But it was worth a shot.
"Yeah, I did."
He absentmindedly touches the koi bracelet on his own wrist. The vague plaintive tone in his voice tugs at her heart.
"I wanted to go see the azaleas with you."
"Then…something must have made you hesitate."
Otherwise, he would have kept those tickets in a safer place.
"Mhm," he answers, not seemingly keen on getting into the details. "And the more I thought about it, the more I worried it might not be a good idea. At this time of the year, there'll be quite a few people visiting the garden. I…"
Kisa's staring at him intently, hanging on to every word, every piece of body language that may tell her more than words could. It's a familiar stare, and it has a familiar heat.
She doesn't know it makes him nervous.
"I wanted to take you to a place with fewer people, so you could be yourself without worries."
To a place where Kisa could just be a girl.
His answer is simple, but she understands there are more complex feelings hidden behind it. Still, the consideration and care he holds for her peace of mind makes the corner of Kisa's eyes soften, her lips relaxing into a smile. It's a smile made with the soft cotton feelings that touched her heart.
And it's a smile she makes for the person she loves.
"I'm fine—I mean, I don't mind going to crowded places. So…how about we see the azaleas together?"
"...Alright then. Sounds great!" At her answer to his unspoken plight, Fumi laughs joyfully. "Ahahaha…man, guess I should've just asked for your opinion, instead of getting bummed about it all on my own."
Ah, this person loves fiercely, doesn't he?
He passionately pours love into all the things he considers precious and dear to him. His family, Quartz, and…
"Kisa?"
That's right. That's how he calls her name.
"Hey, Fumi-san. Can I sit next to you?"
She wants to be even closer to him, somehow.
"Oho~? What's this?" His expression was almost unbearable to look at. "Planning on flirting with me right now, aren't you?"
Kisa paused, her mouth repeatedly opening and closing like a goldfish. Asking to be physically closer to him counted as flirting, doesn't it? If that's the case, then she has no choice but to answer sincerely.
"Y-Yes, that's right." Her heart was pounding, but her hesitation seemed to slowly melt from the subtle heat that invaded her senses. Sheepishly meeting his eyes as she tilted her head, eyes round and doe-like, she asked, "Can't I?"
For a few seconds, Fumi goes dead silent. Though not because he had nothing to say.
'What the heck? That was too cute.'
"Like I could say no to such a request." He's got a hand up to his mouth, chuckling lightly whilst hiding away cheeks dusted pink. Fumi pats the space next to him and says, "Go for it."
"Thank you." She stands up and goes to his side. "So if you'll excuse me…"
As she's just a few steps away, Fumi takes hold of her arm to tug her down with an "Easy does it now," keeping a certain distance so that Kisa can settle down comfortably without having to be nervous about proximity.
Kisa plops down by his side, so Fumi casually grabs a pillow from the couch to tuck it over her lap. The plush softness makes her shoot him a grateful look, and that's when it occurs to her.
"Hey, Fumi-san…you said it earlier, didn't you?" She circles an arm around the pillow he gave her, before tightening her hold over it. "That it was better for me to speak what's on my mind, instead of worrying all by myself."
She reaches out to him with a hand, fingers hovering down by her side with uncertainty. He could close the gap for her, take her hand, and intertwine their fingers together, but he waits for her conviction instead.
"Could you do the same? Only when you feel comfortable enough to, of course."
That way, loneliness and fear can become more bearable.
"...Mm, okay." There's no other choice but to give in to defeat, because now it's no longer a matter of keeping his pride as her cool Jack Ace. Not when she's reaching out to him with all her heart. "I will, in time. Promise."
She tentatively clasps her fingers with his over the carpet, the red koi bracelet swaying on her wrist. A warmth spreads, starting from the fingertips, before soaking through the rest of his body as if submerged in a hot bath. Suddenly, as if he were receiving a violent shock, Fumi understands—Kisa is here by his side. Tangible. Real.
Because of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walked into his.
A smile that held and hid everything stretches across Fumi's face, as he swipes his thumb over hers. "Kisa's way of flirting…feels really nice. Looks like you were secretly studying away without me knowing."
"Hehe, I did have a wonderful role model to chase after."
"Heh, now I wonder who this role model could be? But be careful, I might get jealous of them. They made my dear Al Jeanne look this lovely, after all."
He parts her bangs aside to see her face better, still smiling. Feeling the soft strands of her hair sift through his fingers, a tide of utter bliss washed over him, making him feel both giddy and happy, as he peered at her past a curtain of blonde.
At his affectionate ministrations, Kisa falls silent, leaning in closer to his palm. The lashes of her eyes quiver, and sweet amber swallows his reflection whole like an insect trapped in honey. He must be entranced by her. Yes, that's it. Because Fumi's hand slides down lower, before his fingers find her soft earlobe, turning it red and hot under his touch.
Ah, if only he could lean in closer. Do more. Give her more—of both love and him.
But the devil is clever, because he only needs to give you a taste to have you.
So he stops there, the unnamable heat in his eyes receding away.
"Hey, Kisa."
Whenever Fumi says her name, he weaves through both syllables with all the care in his heart, becoming conscious of the weight in his voice and the undulation of his throat, making each call different from the last. Checking again and again if she were still here with them. Affirming her existence each time through sound.
As if it may tie her to the world where he exists.
"Would you like to hear a story? I heard it from a scammer some time ago…"
The door opened, and the wind blew by.
Kisa's waving goodbye, movements calm and unhurried, taking for granted that they'll see each other again.
'Ah, that's right.'
When that person said goodbye, he had waved with all his might until the very end.
I'll message you. I'll call you. I'll dance with you. So please, please…don't forget that I'm still here.
Little by little, Fumi will tell Kisa these feelings like summer blue.
Several years after Kisa left the Tamasaka Troupe with Fumi, Suzu and Soshiro come to visit.
Read here on ao3
What, I've writen something that isn't Hanadan related. if you follow me on my main blog, you may know that I'm a fan of the otome game, Jack Jeanne. I finished Fumi's route on monday evening and I've had nothing but brainrot since then.
Crimson is a post-canon fumi-best ending one shot, that is my first work I've written for this fandom. I know there's probably 100 things wrong with it, not to mention it will probably be no longer post-canon when the sequel is released, but I'm still excited that I wrote something for this fandom and I hope you all enjoy
Heavy is the heart that falls first. Or, at least that's what Fumi would like to say.
Truthfully, however, this was entirely on him. He was aware that Tachibana wasn't here by normal conditions or standards— I mean, for goodness sakes they are here despite a big rule being only boys. He was aware that they probably had bigger things on their plate and the last thing they could even comprehend thinking about would be romance.
Didn't stop him from falling though. However, he didn't think it was this bad.
Sure, he knew he was interested the moment he played eyes on her. I mean, who wouldn't? Someone who goes against the very rules of the school applying to it? It piqued his interest.
And he would be lying to himself if he didn't say he tried to fight off his growing feelings.
But then Tachibana kept surprising him, kept keeping him on his toes, waiting anxiously for her next move, and then suddenly finding himself deeper in the hole he had dug himself.
He probably realized his true feelings during Mary Jane. Even though he was aware that her and Soshi were planning something, he wasn't expecting such a bold move played by the two of them. Much less Soshi.
His heart was practically soaring when Tachibana ad-libbed and stole the spotlight from him, his heart beating against the fragile cage that was his body. He felt elated, anxious, and head over heels in love.
Good god, he fell and he fell hard, but he isn't entirely sure if he wants to get back up.
