Kimi no na Wa fluff needed! Taki and Mitsuha's actual first date! Disaster or success?
((Ok, for this one, I recommend listening to this on repeat. Katawaredoki))
MUSUBI
He knew her name.
Somehow, in that fateful moment on the stairs, she knew his as well. But she didn’t know Taki Tachibana at all. Or at least that’s what she thought when she walked home wrapped in a blanket of weightless fluff. Its origin confused her. Of course she didn’t know him, but at the same time, his voice, dark blue eyes, smile, physique, even the way he stood with is weight shifted slightly to his right foot were among the most familiar pieces in her life.
Mitsuha Miyamizu made it back to her apartment, dropped her keys on the table, and flopped face down onto her bed.
“Taki,” she mulled his name over and over. “How do I know you?”
He’d summoned up the courage to ask her to coffee at a local cafe tomorrow. She’d answered ‘yes’ with tears pooling at the corners of her eyes. If he’d asked her to fly to the moon, she would have agreed without hesitation in the same way –anything to keep his face always in sight, to never lose him again.
Again…
She sat up and pressed her hand to her heart. Had she lost him before?
Her fingers curled into the fabric at the lingering sense from their meeting. For the first time in eight long, difficult years, after holding her breath for an eon, she felt like she could finally exhale. She fell back to her pillow with a wistful smile. What an amazing feeling.
Her eyes suddenly shot open.
“What on earth am I going to wear?!”
* * * *
The small bell attached to the cafe’s glass front door tinkled when she entered.
They’d agreed to meet around 10am. She’d taken the day off from work specifically for this reason, and told her boss that it was a personal matter. Since she’d been employed at his company for five years, she’d gained his trust a while ago, so she was granted as much time as needed without any problems. It was a relaxed office anyway –the kind where she could work in jeans and kick her shoes off.
Mitsuha scanned the room. He wasn’t here yet. She checked her phone for the time. It was only ten minutes ‘till. Of course he wasn’t here, he still had time. He wasn’t as retentive about scheduling as she was. She chuckled softly, though paused. It wasn’t right to make assumptions about people.
“Hi.”
She squeaked in shock at the sudden voice from nowhere and spun, nearly dropping her phone.
“Sorry,” Taki apologized. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I wasn’t scared,” she immediately defended out of natural habit. “You just caught me off guard.”
He smiled. “Ok. Sorry anyway.” He glanced around for an open table and found one near one of the many floor-to-ceiling windows curving around the dining area. “There’s a table over there.”
They moved through the sparse morning crowd, making them feel like they were the only ones, and took their seats.
Mitsuha peered at the menu with blinders on and tucked her index fingernail between her teeth. It was a habit she’d gained in her second year of high school for some odd reason, and never dropped it. She knew she should let it go, however it was soothing. She didn’t want to.
She was too nervous to think straight, so went with her usual order to keep things simple. Her eyes drifted up to the man across the table, who’d taken on an identical studious pose over his own menu. They mirrored each other perfectly. A slight giggle left her before she could stop it.
Taki glanced over the menu. “Hm? Is there a joke on this menu I missed?”
“No. I just thought I was the only one who did that. No one else in my family, and none of my friends bite their nail. I don’t know where I picked it up.”
“Huh. I’ve kinda always done this.” He shrugged, then realized he’d become too relaxed. “If it’s bothering you, I’ll stop.”
“It’s fine, It actually makes me feel less weird.” She sent him a disarming slight smile.
Taki didn’t know why he was examining the menu so closely. He came here all the time. He’ll just go for his usual. It’ll be easier that way. “I’ll have a strawberry crepe.”
Her eyebrows lifted a little. “Me, too. With chocolate. It’s my favorite here.”
“Same. I come here all the time; normally for breakfast.”
“I can never make it until after work. This place is on my way home. They have–”
“–the best coffee,” they both said simultaneously.
It brought their conversation to a halt. They stared at each other for a moment, unused to someone outside of family finishing their sentences.
Taki was the first to break it. “Jinx! You owe me a soda.”
“What? You can’t jinx me,” she defended, enjoying the mirth of their conversation, and the bite in their retort. “We’re on a date, you nerd. Jinxes have no effect.”
“You made that up.”
“Oh really. Ok, so how are you going to prove it?”
“I… Well, there’s… it’s…” air hitched in his throat, then he resigned in a soft breath. “Ok, you win this round. I’ll get you next time.”
“Good luck trying,” she laughed.
He couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face. Her laughter rang like golden bells in the twilight.
The twilight… Thinking of it brought another word to mind he hadn’t thought of in a long time: Katawaredoki. It was in a different dialect, and it wasn’t a word he heard on a normal basis, so how did he know it?
Their food arrived. Taki and Mitsuha enjoyed their breakfast strawberry crepes with small talk in between about each other’s lives.
Time flew away from them, leaving them in their own bubble of frozen infinity.
They left the cafe, chatting about their work, their families, and their crazy friends. The whole while, Taki felt like he was hearing these stories from an old childhood companion.
Their meandering took them to a Lord’s Garden a couple of blocks nearby –the same one Taki’s apartment looked out over.
They walked along a manicured dirt path beside a pond where cranes drifted lazily along the sun-sparkled waters.
“It’s odd, but,” Mitsuha began, “I feel like I’ve known you forever.” She paused under a cherry tree. Soft, pink blossoms drifted around them.
“Yeah. Me, too,” he agreed. He wanted to tell her he felt more comfortable around her than he did around his closest family members and friends. There’s no way that should be possible with a total stranger. Then again, Mitsuha wasn’t a stranger anymore. He’d known her name the day they passed on the stairs, but had no way to explain how.
She reached out her palm to catch any wayward petals in her palm. “I love cherry blossoms; The scents on the breeze, the feeling of life it gives off. They’re ephemeral, but every year, they keep coming back no matter what. They kind of remind me of home.”
“Where’s home?” He asked.
A breath of memory followed her answer. “Itomori.”
He blinked. That was the name of the town he was obsessed with for a while in late high school for reasons that confused him and his friends. The sketches remained tucked into an art book on his desk. “You’re from there? Wow.”
“Yeah,” she whispered. Her fist clenched. Why was she telling him this? Things like this were not topics to be brought up on a first date.
Her memories of the summer comet strike were hazy, and included a black-out point for nearly the entire day before the comet struck. She could understand being traumatized by the event that wiped her home off the map –the meteor’s ground zero was her family’s ancestral shrine, after all–but the events before hand of daily life, and the shrine’s matsuri should be normal.
That night, she’d ‘woken up’ on the road covered in scratches, not knowing why she’d run down the mountain, or why she was crying. But what left her with the largest unanswered question of her life was the mystery of who left one simple phrase written in black marker on her right palm; ‘I love you.’
She opened her fingers again to stare at her clean hand, clearly imagining the quickly-scrawled handwriting once more. Instead of her own voice, however, the voice that echoed through her memory…was his.
“Are you ok?”
She’d been caught daydreaming again. How embarrassing on a first date. She nodded and smiled. “I’m fine. It’s getting late. I should head home.”
“Wow, we’ve been out here all day. I completely lost track of time.” He cringed. “If you had anything else planned, I…”
“It’s fine. I had today cleared.”
They lingered silently in each other’s presence for a few moments. Neither wanted to back away from the other.
Taki’s chest pained at the idea of going back home to his empty apartment.
Mitshua’s desire to always keep his face in sight fought with her will power.
“Hey,” Taki began. “Can I…see you again?”
Mitsuha nodded. “I’d like that.”
He felt relieved. The empty apartment awaiting him instantly became a stay-over location until he could be with her once more. A idea flared to life. “How about tomorrow? There’s going to be a cherry blossom viewing here. They hold it every year.”
“I know. I watch it from my balcony.” She pointed to a nearby apartment building at the end of the street. “I live over there.”
His jaw dropped. “You’re kidding. I live about three blocks that way,” he thumbed in the opposite direction. “So, between us is the cafe and park.”
“Weird,” she mumbled. “But…convenient.”
Mitsuha thought she chose to live here because it was a close bike ride to work, when in reality, she’d been drawn to this area, this park, and this cafe. Every time she walked through it, she felt like she was approaching a calm in her personal storm without ever finding the source no matter how many times she wandered these garden paths.
He stood before her now, the epicenter of that calm.
“So,” he wheedled into the stillness, nervous about asking her on a second date, “how about noon? We can get lunch, and join up with some groups from there?”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m off tomorrow. Yeah. I’ll be at the cafe. Don’t be late, ok?”
“I still have to get you for that dodged jinx.”
They shared a light hearted moment, lingering even more as twilight waned.
“Well…”
“Well…” Taki rubbed the back of his neck. He’d dated before, and been nervous before, but with her –even with the level of comfort he felt–he didn’t know how to end this. Honestly, he didn’t want it to end. Taking the initiative, he lifted her small hand in his….. and froze.
And image of her in a school uniform looking back at him from the mirror of a traditional-style room he didn’t recognized flashed through his mind.
She slipped her hand away and stared at him. His face surged forward from her memory looking back at her from the mirror of a tiny apartment bedroom. Uneasy at what just happened, she slid her foot back. “I… I gotta go.”
“Mitsuha…”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Taki. Don’t be late,” she repeated, and jogged down the path toward her building.
The sun set. Twilight had ended.
Taki could still feel the warmth of her skin against his own. He was confused by what he remembered, but given hope by it as well.
Whatever he needed to do to ensure he could see her again day after day for as long as he drew breath, he would do.
He would not lose Mitsuha Miyamizu again.
——–
End.