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“Oi,” comes the pensive voice of Koizumi Risa, muffled from where her mouth is pressed into her boyfriend’s hair. A moment later, she tilts her head and rests her chin on his shoulder. “Do you think we could put All Hanshin-Kyojin out of a job?”
“Shut up, idiot,” replies Otani Atsushi, and Risa doesn’t need to see the grimace twisting his face to know it’s there. She can hear it easily enough in his voice. Also, the kick he swiftly delivers backwards to her shin speaks loud and clear.
“Owwww,” she groans, burying her head further into the crook of his neck as she shifts on the bed to cuddle closer against him. “Who’s the idiot?! I was just saying!”
“You’re the idiot for suggesting something like that,” Otani grouses. “All Hanshin-Kyojin is a terrible nickname anyway. Just because I’m short…”
“And I’m tall! So what?” She lifts a long leg, throws it over his. “We got used to it, didn’t we? And people found us funny…we were the comedy duo of Maido!”
“Yeah.” He turns his head, throwing her a pointed look. “Because you always copied me and said things at the same time I would.”
“You copied me, you midget jerk.”
“Dumbass Amazon!”
“Idiot shrimp – kyaaa–!!”
Her insult is cut off when he abruptly turns over and aims for her sides, wiggling his fingers in just such a way that makes her squeal with laughter. The look on his face is mischievous and the sparkle in his eyes does things to her insides so that they flutter even more than they would just from the tickling.
“I surrender!!” she exclaims, and he slows just enough so that she can perfectly time kneeing him in the stomach just before he declares his victory. Instead, all he can do is wheeze and groan pitifully.
“Hehehe,” she cackles in her deepest voice, and then sticks out her jaw so her bottom row of teeth jut out past her top row. “The winner is me, and I declare the loser has to buy me an Umibozu headband at his next concert~.”
“I was going to do that anyway, though,” Otani mutters with a fond roll of his eyes, lying back down so that this time they’re forehead-to-forehead instead of back-to-stomach. “Don’t make such creepy faces.”
“Who’s creepy?!”
“My girlfriend,” he answers, knocking his head against hers, and she pouts. Her cheeks, however, go bright red, betraying the glee she still feels at hearing him say that so straightforwardly.
“So heartless!” she says, sticking her tongue out at him.
“I’ll prove you wrong,” he replies, and a moment later his lips are on hers, moving too gently in comparison with his brash words, and her heart begins to do what feels like somersaults. Kissing him never grows tiresome, never loses its novelty, never becomes something she doesn’t look forward to. Her hand moves upwards to brush his cheek, and when he pulls away, her lips pull involuntarily up into a smile.
“See? I’ve got a heart.” He grins, tapping her nose with a finger. “I’ve stolen yours, after all.”
“Uwah, trying to be cool!!” she accuses, if only to deny the unbearable heat on her cheeks. “Did you take that line from shoujo manga, Otani?!”
“Shut up,” he says, reddening himself. He reaches up to take her hand from his cheek, but laces their fingers instead.
“You can borrow my manga if you want, otaku-kun –”
“Who’s heartless now?!”
They knock heads simultaneously, and then with groans of pain begin to reconsider their impulses. As they recover in silence, she slips her leg in between his and he squeezes her hand.
“Hey,” Otani says, a few moments later. She looks back at him, wide-eyed. “Why’d you bring up All Hanshin-Kyojin, anyway?”
“Oh!” Her expression brightens. “I just thought, if you don’t become Otani-sensei after all, and if I can’t find work as a stylist, we could be a comedy duo like All Hanshin-Kyojin professionally! We’d have to have a different name, though.”
“Stupid, don’t give up so early!”
“Eh, do you have faith in me, sensei?” She grins, batting her eyes at him. “Teach me to be the best stylist, sensei! O~ta~ni~sen~sei says do~your~best!!”
“Shut up!” he laughs, kisses her again, and fireworks explode in her heart as it beats against his chest.