Chapter Text
“I love you, Kiyotaka-san!”
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she shut it in a panic. Aoi hadn’t meant to think that loudly, but her self-control around him had never been good, and certainly not on a day when she’d already laid bare so many of her emotions. Heart in mouth, she stared at his back. Kiyotaka had not moved. Perhaps he was too absorbed in watching the moon to have heard. Or maybe, her anxiety supplied, he had heard, and simply found her admission too repulsive, too crude to merit a response.
He turned around.
In the short time that she’d known him, Aoi had learned Kiyotaka’s passions ran highest whenever his or his family’s pride as appraisers was on the line. He lived and breathed his mission of sorting the genuine from the fake, and nothing could rouse his anger quicker than an insult to his skill. But in matters of romance, she took him to be more mild-mannered, even uncertain and awkward.
The intensity of Kiyotaka’s expression now was a mix of both; gaze loaded with wonder and softness but also hesitation, a kind of fragile hope Aoi had rarely seen in him. The air was electric, fluid and pulsing. She felt as if the world had narrowed to just the two of them, adrift on an ocean of moonlight.
“I’m not dreaming, am I?” he said. “You… love me?”
Aoi didn’t hesitate. “Yes,” she whispered, hands pressed over her chest like she could stop her heart from bursting out. “Yes.”
It was all the confirmation he needed. Kiyotaka closed the distance between them, taking her hands in his. Aoi flushed, but did not pull away. If anything, she tightened her grip. Kiyotaka had always liked holding her hand; now, he savoured her presence, allowing it to ground him in preparation of what he would say next.
“Aoi-san.”
He did love her name. And he loved her. That much was evident from how right it felt to pull her into a tight embrace, hand cupping the back of her head and breathing in her flowery scent. Because this was what it came down to, in the end. Being completely honest with her, just as she had been with him seconds ago.
“Aoi-san, I know I’m not good at speaking my mind. For a long time I couldn’t even confront what I wanted, let alone say it aloud. But now you’ve given me the courage to finally admit it.”
He was speaking so close to her ear that she could feel his breath and hear every hitch in his voice, the roughness of his accent coming through. “There isn’t anyone else I’d rather have at my side, Aoi-san. You’re brave, honest, and see things for what they truly are. And you, of all people, see me most clearly.”
He drew back, admiring the way the moonlight sparkled in her wide, round eyes. Seeing her, his emotions in full revolution, he wondered why it had taken him so long to summon the words. “Aoi-san, I love you.”
The world seemed to stop.
He felt the same way, she thought faintly. He loved her. He loves me.
Aoi realised she was trembling, fighting back tears of relief. Maybe she’d been scared of rejection, that Kiyotaka wouldn’t choose her when more elegant and cultured women like Keiko existed. That she was far too plain because, after all, his grandfather had a liking for beautiful things, and the grandson had a keen eye for them, and she wasn’t pretty or talented. But Kiyotaka was staring at her, and only her.
“You really are beautiful, you know that?”
Aoi reflexively denied it, ducking her head in embarrassment. It was a different kind of compliment from the gentlemanly ones he habitually bestowed on her and other women; he said it so gently and earnestly that she knew it was only for her, and came from a part of his heart that she now occupied.
Seeing her reaction, Kiyotaka thought she needed to be told she was beautiful more often -- not just physically, but that every part of her, inside and out, was radiant, enough to outshine the sun and moon and stars. He reached down and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, hand ghosting over her cheek. Her skin was warm, and something buried deep inside him did not want to let go; gently, he nudged her attention back to him, so that her eyes locked onto his. And then he leaned in.
Aoi’s eyes fluttered shut. It had been a long time since she’d last kissed anyone like this, and she’d thought it would take years before she would feel comfortable doing it again. But with Kiyotaka, everything had changed. She wanted it; felt like she’d wanted it for too long. His lips were soft and shy but so very right, and she pressed herself closer to him. It felt like the moon was tugging forth a tide of joy that crashed and sung through her body. There was no imaginary line in the sand, no lie in her heart or his.
Above them, the moon glowed.