Archive of Our Own ^beta

Kanao looks at the rink with something bordering on disinterest and longing, she has her hand on her cheek and her feet propped up on the stand below. She’d been watching rehearsals for the past two hours, it had gotten boring after a while, sitting on the stands is not the same as being on the ice. She repeatedly clicks the pen in her hand, the only thing giving away her anxiety. No one has approached her in the last fifteen minutes, and though she’s grateful, she knows it’s not going to last.

Just as she thinks this, her luck runs out, because she feels Aoi taking a seat beside her. Cautious in that way only Aoi can be. It’s a little bothersome the way everyone seems to be walking on eggshells around her.

“What,” Kanao murmurs quietly, and though there is music being blared through the speakers, Aoi hears her.

“Nothing,” She answers and Kanao doesn’t believe her for a second. They lapse into silence and she can feel all the questions her rink mate has. (Soon to be ex-rink mate, she quietly reminds herself.)

She’s never been one to be influenced by peer pressure but everyone—Shinobu, Kanae, Tomioka, Aoi, Zenitsu, Genya, Inosuke, everyone, everyone—is waiting for her to explain herself.

“What.” She presses again.

Aoi turns to her, quietly observing her as she decidedly doesn’t take her eyes off the people in the rink. After much consideration, Aoi questions, “Have you seen him?”

“Yes,” Kanao says. He’d greeted her like always, biting the inside of his cheek and smiling kindly. As always.

“Have you really seen him?”

Yes, Kanao wants to say but doesn’t, I’ve seen his red-rimmed eyes. I’ve seen how tired he looks. I’ve seen how hesitant he is. I see how heartbroken he is. I know. I know. I know. Stop making this harder than it already is.

It’s not like it’s not hurting her too. She feels awful, so awful. Like something inside her has been removed and it’s painful. She knows that what’s missing is him but she can’t back down, she can’t go back on her decision. The words of what she’d promised herself years ago ring in her ears, I won’t be this selfish again.

Everyone—especially him—had always told her to make her choices herself, so here she was. Doing just that. Maybe that’s why he didn’t protest because he had asked, is this what you really want?

And Kanao had said yes. Because it was what she wanted. It was.

It didn’t mean it hurt any less.

Aoi seems to still be waiting for an answer but Kanao doesn’t say anything else. The other girl huffs in frustration, “Why aren’t you being honest with me?”

“I’m being honest,” Kanao says, a touch of exasperation in her voice.

“No, you’re not. You—there’s something going on. And you’re not telling me about it.”

Trust Aoi to sniff out that particular detail in this whole mess, Kanao hopes she’s convincing enough when she says, “There’s nothing going on. I just didn’t want to do it anymore.”

“Didn’t want to do what?” A masculine voice cuts in and suddenly, Inosuke is sitting down on Kanao’s other side. She’s been effectively trapped, she should’ve seen it coming. She would be feeling more anxious, if it wasn’t for the fact that she’s surrounded by two people she can easily manipulate. (As awful as that sounds.)

“So what’s really going on?” Aoi asks, her face serious, “We’re here to listen.”

Kanao almost wants to smile, but she knows just how to dismantle this situation, so she turns to Aoi and innocently questions back, “Did Genya like the bento you made him?”

Aoi’s eye twitches just before Inosuke squawks and leans over Kanao and loudly aks, “You made him a bento? You said you were just friends!”

“We are! I can make bentos for my friends!”

“No, you can’t! We agreed!”

“We did not!”

“You can’t make him bentos!”

“For the last time,” Aoi says, exasperated, “Genya and I are just friends!”

“He’s seen you naked!” Inosuke shouts and Aoi flushes so red she looks like a cherry.

“He has not!”

Inosuke pauses, and then says, “But Zenitsu—“

“Don’t listen to that perverted little moron! I’ve told you so many times already!” Aoi takes a deep breath and looks at Kanao and says, “You still owe me an explanation.” Then she turned to Inosuke and points behind her, “Outside.”

“BUT—“

“Now.”

Inosuke grumbles a bit more before doing as she says and Aoi stands up, putting her hands on her hips as she stares Kanao down. “You need to talk to him.”

As Kanao watches Inosuke stomp up the stairs to the exit she says, “No I don’t.”

Aoi sighs, “I admit that my approach getting you to talk wasn’t fair. I know you don’t like being cornered but you have me worried. I just—I just want to be sure you’re okay.”

Kanao looks at her with a soft smile, “I know.”

Aoi looks at her again, her expression still worried but with one last puff of air she gives up, “Fine. I’ll leave it alone for now. But if you need me, call me.”

“I will.” She answers and as she watches the other girl turn away she almost feels jealous.

It had been two weeks, five days, and seventeen hours since Kanao had broken up with Tanjiro. One month, three weeks, five days, and twelve hours since Kanao had received the news.

But who was counting?

Certainly not her.

The first record Kanao breaks is obtaining the highest short program score in the nation in her first competition as a senior. She makes a lot of people’s jaws drop. She’s only fifteen and yet, she makes her heart bleed on the ice but—

But this crushing sincerity has come at a price, a hard price, one she wishes she didn’t have to pay. Those days are a turbulent time for her. They’re days filled with loneliness, helplessness, and constant hospital visits to see Kanae.

And the only thing Kanao can do is skate her feelings out.

“She’s so young,” She hears one of the commentators say as she rewatches her short program on her laptop, days later, “And yet she’s able to express so much emotion in every move she makes. She can leave the entire audience mesmerized and—wow—look at her, she doesn’t waste a movement.”

There’s a reason why skating is her everything—it’s because it’s her only means of communication.

She isn’t able to express herself easily with words but when she’s on the ice, she tells it all. Not a lot of people can pick up on it though, so she still goes misunderstood a lot of the time. She wishes she were able to speak using her own words but it’s too hard. She gets choked up, her face burns red, and she freezes when she has to explain something. Really, it’s all just too humiliating, it shouldn’t be so hard, and she hates herself for it.

But she doesn’t have to speak when she’s skating, she can let the music do the talking for her and she can convey even her most complicated feelings. So when she makes her senior debut, it’s no surprise that the judges make a lot of comments on her artistry. She communicates feelings well on the ice because that’s the only communication she’s good at.

Kanao had skated to Yiruma’s The Days That’ll Never Come and of course she had skated with everything she had, with every fiber of her being. It had only been a few months since Kanae’s accident and she’d skated that program with her older sister in mind. She’d skated to try to convey to her sister that she was also mourning the days that would never come for her. She wanted Kanae to know that Kanao would always think of her when she stepped onto the ice because it had been Kanae that had told her to skate to express herself. It had been Kanae that had taken her hand and helped her get over her fear of falling, it had been Kanae that had believed in her. Kanae, Kanae, Kanae.

I’m here for you, she wanted to scream until her voice was hoarse, I will always be by your side.

She could only hope that the message would reach her. But Kanae wanted nothing to do with the ice and Kanao had no other way to say it to her. The chasm of space that's grown between them is as wide as Valles Marineris and Kanao cannot even begin to figure out how to overcome it. Shinobu, too, is chasing dreams that seem impossible and Kanao wishes she had words of encouragement to give her but she can’t find any. She skates her long program, thinking of her, trying to say, You can do it, I believe in you.

But her feelings don’t seem to reach her either of them and Kanao is left with a bronze medal at Nationals but no one to dedicate it to and no one to share her achievement with. Her programs had been for her sisters but neither got the meaning, so she wonders, not for the first time if maybe they’re no longer able to understand her. She’s not a child anymore, she’s fifteen, and maybe they’re done entertaining her childish peculiarities. Maybe they’ve gone farther than what she can reach, maybe—maybe it’s just Kanao that’s stayed behind, clinging to the past where both her sisters were by her side.

Coach Ubuyashiki gives her some time off after Nationals and Kanao spends a lot of her time thinking over what to do next. She doesn’t have either of her sisters to advise her and Kanao can’t bring herself to ask. Before she thought she would just follow Shinobu’s lead but Shinobu had switched to pairs and that was something Kanao simply could not do.

She mulls it over and over. Would it be alright to continue as she has? What would her parents say? Should she stop? Should she just wait until they told her what to do? Should she ask Coach Ubuyashiki? If she didn’t skate anymore, what would she do instead? There are too many variables and she can’t make the decision on her own. It makes her stressed.

When she goes back to practice she’s still not sure what she should do, she does the things Coach Ubuyashiki expects of her but otherwise, she’ll just sit on one of the benches and wring her hands because she’s still not sure what’s the best course of action to take.

That’s exactly what she’s doing when she first speaks to him for the first time.

“You seem to be thinking really hard.” An unfamiliar voice says and Kanao almost jumps out of her skin. She turns to her side and sitting on the bench next to her is Kamado Tanjiro in his middle school uniform. She flushes red when she notices how intently he’s looking at her.

“Umm,” She murmurs, “Sorry.”

He gives her an easy smile, “You don’t have to be sorry.”

They lapse into silence and Kanao turns away from him, looking directly ahead to the empty rink. She shoots him glances from the corner of her eye because he doesn’t leave or move from his spot. It makes her nervous. He and his sister only started skating at The Nine Pillars Rink a few months ago and she doesn’t know him very well but she knows he likes to talk...a lot. Aoi had mentioned that he was nice boy but a little pushy.

Kanao can’t handle people like that.

She hopes he’ll leave.

Unfortunately for her, he doesn’t.

“How long have you been skating here?” He asks instead, leaning back and getting comfortable.

A beat of silence passes, and then she says, “Since I was seven.”

“Oh! That’s so nice! Nezuko and I just started three months ago.”

I know that, Kanao thinks to herself but doesn’t say out loud. I’ve seen you around.

“I saw you on TV the other day,” He continues, “You were so amazing! I can’t wait to see what you do next season.”

“I don’t know if I’ll skate next season,” She says without meaning to. She immediately regrets the words when she sees the look on his face.

“What?” The Kamado boy says, completely shocked, “Why not?”

“I don’t—I don’t know if I should.” She doesn’t know why her mouth betrays her and opens again to answer his question. She shouldn’t be discussing this with him, he’s basically a stranger. But maybe she just wants someone to tell her what to do, even if it’s a stranger.

He turns his body towards her and leans in close, she backs away, a little creeped out. “Mmm,” He hums, as he examines her from head to toe, “You’re not injured are you?”

She shakes her head.

“Then what’s the problem? Don’t you want to skate anymore?”

“Huh?” Kanao questions.

“Yeah! Don’t you want to keep doing it?”

“Me?”

He tilts his head to the side and frowns a little, “Yes, don’t you skate because you want to?”

She blinks. She started skating because Kanae and Shinobu skated. She didn’t really think about it, it just seemed something that she should do too.

When he sees that she’s deep in thought he asks, softly, “Do you like skating?”

Kanao thinks about it for a second and decides that yes, yes she does. She nods.

“Then there you go! You should keep doing it if you like it. There doesn’t have to be another reason.”

“I—“

She gets cut off by Nezuko calling him over from the top of the stands, “Onii-chan! What are you doing?! Go get changed!”

“Oh r-right!” He says standing up, “I’ll see you at practice,” He tells Kanao as if there was no other choice for her. He leaves, running up the stands and to the changing rooms.

I should skate...because I want to. She mouthes the words without a sound. Because I want to.

She nods to herself and stands and—promptly sits back down. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t that easy, she still doesn’t feel like it’s the right decision to make. Maybe she should speak to her father about it, he’s the one that was paying for her things in the first place.

Practice that afternoon is a little tenser than usual, Shinobu and Douma have been arguing a lot more publicly now, and their sharp words coat the rink in an awkward blanket. Their voices are loud and all of the other kids just move around them as Coach Ubuyashiki tries to mediate between them.

“We have barely practiced for an hour!” Shinobu is saying.

Douma gives her a smile, “And don’t you think that’s enough?”

“No,” Shinobu gripes, “We have a lot to work on! At this rate, we will never improve.”

“What does it even matter?” He asks, his face not losing his smile, “It’s not like we’re going to get very far anyway.”

Shinobu’s face flushes so red, Kanao thinks she might actually pop a blood vessel, “Then why the fuck—“

“That’s enough!” Coach Ubuyashiki cuts, her voice like steel, “I think both of you need to reevaluate your priorities, and right now I want both of you out my rink.”

Shinobu clicks her mouth shut and clenches her jaw so hard, Kanao can see the veins lining her neck. She glides right past her, fuming, and Kanao wants to try to—try to do something. Like follow her and tell her it’ll be alright, or maybe say something to Douma to get him to understand that this is important for Shinobu….but instead she lowers her head and fiddles with her nails.

Why is speaking so hard? She thinks later when she’s doing her cool-down stretches. It shouldn’t be so hard.

Kanao hates that she cannot even offer the people she cares about the most words of comfort. She can’t do the bare minimum. She feels like she’s a mass of useless flesh that takes up space.

Later that night, after they’ve had dinner, Kanao is beginning to wash the dishes when her father comes up next to her, taking the drying rag and picking up one of the washed dishes. He gives her a tired smile and says, “Congratulations on your senior debut, I didn’t have a chance to say it.”

“Ah-ah,” She stutters, “Tha-thank you.”

“You were amazing, I watched the programs and you’re really on your way to becoming the best of the best.”

Kanao flushes, a little embarrassed. But he’s presented her with the perfect opportunity, “Do-do you think—I should—that I should continue?”

He raises an eyebrow, “Continue skating?”

She nods, “With everything...I just—should I?”

He sets down the plate he’s drying, “Do you want to keep doing it?”

It was the same question she’d already been asked so she had an answer ready. She whispers, “Yes.”

Her father gives her a bright smile, “Then I will be cheering you on.”

“Hmm,” She hums because her voice will come out thick with tears otherwise. Even after all this time, he still remains to be one of the people she can always count on. Since the moment she had first woken up at the hospital, he had been the first person she’d seen and the first person who’d smiled at her and said, “It’s alright, you’re safe now.”

Kanao will always be grateful to him for giving her a home and sisters and most of all, love. Even though he wasn’t really her father, it sure felt like he was. He’s what a father is supposed to be. Loving, kind, supportive.

“How has work been?” She asks, a little later when she’s sure her voice won’t betray her.

“Busy,” He answers, “We’re in the middle of testing a new drug and you know how it goes, trials are always the hardest part, especially since the chemical composition of this specific drug is a little more complex. I think the board is getting impatient and—“ He continues talking and explaining to her the ins and outs of clinical testing, Kanao just nods along, understanding little but knowing that he’s had no one to talk to in a long time so she just lets him ramble. Kanae had the same habit. It was a little funny to watch.

When they’re done washing, drying, and putting away the dishes he goes back to his study to work into the night and Kanao goes upstairs to plan her goals for the next season.

What do I want? Kanao asks herself, why do I skate?

She pulls out a pen and paper and writes, I skate because Kanae did it. I skate because Shinobu does. I skate because I want to make my family proud.

She pauses, looking at her list. All these are reasons that involve other people. And that’s a little unfair to them, and herself. She decides that if she’s really doing this if she’s really going to continue, she should be honest about it and stop hiding behind other people's expectations of her. So she writes her real driving force, I skate because it’s the only thing I know how to do. I skate because it’s the only thing I’m good at. I skate because I want to win.

She pauses. Looks down at the paper she’s filled with sentences. And she, with a trembling hand, writes finally, I skate because I want to be the best.

She looks at the calendar on her phone, flips forward three years, and stares at February twenty eighteen for a long time.

“I’m going to the Olympics,” She says out loud and though no one is there to listen to her proclamation it doesn’t matter. She’s going.

She sees Muichiro skate up to Genya and Aoi, who are by the boards speaking intently about something. When Genya sees Muichiro approaching, he tries to inconspicuously move behind Aoi, but he could not be more obvious. Kanao sees them exchanging words, and Aoi looks like she’s trying very hard not to laugh, eventually, Genya hastily skates away, and Aoi pats Muichiro’s shoulder and says something to him. But the younger boy doesn’t seem the least bit offended by Genya’s avoidance.

Even from where Kanao is sitting, she can imagine the look of determination on Muichiro’s face, she's seen it countless times before. As she watches everyone mingle on the ice, she absentmindedly wonders just how long it’ll take for Muichiro to wear Genya down. If Kanao had to place a bet, she’d say within the next year, after all, Muichiro, since he first came to Coach Ubuyashiki at fourteen, has been very clear about his goals. And he did not seem the type to give up easily, if the past two years have said anything about him at all, it’s that he’s relentless. She almost feels sorry for Genya. 

“Onne-san” Nezuko calls, snapping Kanao out of her thoughts. Kanao turns to her, and the younger girl doesn’t wait for an invitation to sit beside her. She smiles brightly, “Why are you here by yourself?”

“Ah,” Kanao begins, feeling apprehensive, “I—I’m just—“ She looks down at the notepad she has on her lap and says, lying terribly, “Taking notes for—for—future reference…” She finishes lamely.

Nezuko nods, not believing her.

Kanao’s heart beats loudly in her chest, she feels another interrogation coming and Nezuko isn’t someone she can easily distract. The younger girl doesn’t speak for a long time, instead they both watch as the skaters on the ice are instructed by Coach Ubuyashiki on the opening choreography. The ice show is quickly approaching, and everyone is jittery with excitement and nervousness. Kanao herself would be participating but it would be her last time skating publicly. No one knew yet, but this ice show would be her send-off. She’s already spoken with her parents and Coach Ubuyashiki, no one else knows. No one else can know, they will try to dissuade her, but the storm that’s brewing over the horizon is greater than anything she can handle, so it’s better to quit now. It’s better to end her career at the height of it, because soon, it would all fall apart under her.

“Soo,” Nezuko finally begins, slowly, and she shifts nervously in her seat, “Onii-chan and you…it’s not a bad joke?”

Kanao almost laughs, because she wishes it were, “No. No, it’s not.”

“But why?” Nezuko asks vehemently, “You—you were fine! This has come out of nowhere! Did he do something?”

Kanao shakes her head.

“So then—why? I’m just trying to understand. Because I don’t get it.”

The older swallows the painful knot in her throat and manages to say, “People break up all the time. Sometimes things just don’t work out. Zenitsu and you—“

“You cannot compare Zenitsu and I to my brother and you,” Nezuko cuts, frustration clear in her tone, “My brother is not obsessed with you—well, I mean he is, but he’s obsessed with you in the right way. He does not put you on a pedestal and worship you and then is disappointed that you aren’t what he thought you were. My brother likes you for who you are...” She stops, she bites the inside of her cheek, and clearing her throat continues, “You and my brother…you guys loved each other. I know you did.”

It makes Kanao’s heart lurch at Nezuko’s absolute confidence in her relationship with Tanjirou and she wishes she could tell her the truth, instead, what she does is breathe in deeply, and force another lie out of her mouth, “I—did. I did love him very much.”

Nezuko’s large eyes stare at her like she can’t believe what she’s hearing and Kanao continues, her voice sounding very dead even to her own ears, “But that’s in the past.”

“In the past,” Nezuko whispers, her voice barely audible above the sound of the music that’s playing on the speakers. She swallows thickly, shaking her head, and she says, “I don’t believe you.”

Kanao bites her tongue, until she feels the metallic taste of her own blood, and she says, “You should. I broke up with him because I didn’t love him anymore and I don’t think it would be fair to stay with him. I feel nothing for him.”

Since deciding that the Olympics is a goal she has to reach, she tries harder than ever at practice. There are things that she’s still lacking, things that need to be perfected if she wants to be chosen for the National Team. She needs to be better than good.

She needs to be number one in the Nation, then at Four Continents, then at Worlds. And she needs to maintain this consistency for the next three years. She cannot falter. Not even for a moment. But she is not scared about this, she’s nothing if not dedicated.

She’s been working consistently on the off-ice harness, when Shinobu asks, “Do you want me to help you?”

Kanao is surprised, she knows that ever since her partnership with Douma fell apart, Shinobu has been desperate to find a solution to her situation. She didn’t think she’d have the time or energy to help someone else. She nods nonetheless.

Shinobu nods, “Okay. Great.”

“Both my programs for the next season have been choreographed already,” Kanao begins to explain, “But I haven’t entirely decided on the layout of the jumps yet.” She pauses, and confesses, “But I know for sure I want a triple axel. I won’t be able to win without it.”

Shinobu raises her eyebrows in surprise, “Is that so?”

“I know I can do it,” Kanao rushes to say, on the cusp of defensiveness, “My double is consistent as it is and I know I have the room for an extra rotation. I’m good enough. I just need time to learn it.”

Her older sister looks a bit taken aback, and says, “I know you can do it. I was…I was just surprised. I wasn’t—I wasn’t trying to say you couldn’t.”

Kanao feels her face flush, there was no need to have such an outburst. She opens and closes her mouth, trying to apologize but feels her throat constrict up.

“I’ll get the harness so we can practice on the ice,” Shinobu says, when Kanao remains silent, “We’ll start right now.”

Coach Ubuyashiki is glad to see that Kanao has a new goal.

“I was a bit worried,” The older woman had told Kanao later, “For a while it seemed as though you had lost your interest in continuing.”

“I…I had my doubts,” Kanao tells her, “But I…don’t want to stop. I want to be—“ the best. She can’t say the last part out loud. It seemed so arrogant. And yet she knew that’s what she wanted.

But Coach Ubuyashiki understands what Kanao is trying to say and she nods, her face lighting up in understanding, and the only thing she says is, “Let’s get you to Worlds.”

Training is as difficult as she expects.

Everyday after school she’s on the ice, sometimes even on Saturday mornings. Her muscles are sore everyday by the time she unlaces her skates and puts on her tennis shoes. Sunday's are her full days off, but she dreads Sundays. The end of the week signifies visits to Kanae’s rehabilitation center. Every time she is there, she has bites down on her tongue to keep from crying when they’re in the room. Her sister lays in bed like a lifeless doll, looking up at the ceiling with empty eyes as their mother tries to speak to her. Beside Kanao, Shinobu will be clenching her fists on her lap tightly, her nails digging into the palms of her hands. For weeks these are how Sunday's always play out until something happens that makes Kanao shift her view on the situation. 

It's a typical Sunday and her mother is telling Kanae all that's happened that week with as much enthusiasm as she can. “Kanao has been training hard these days,” Her mother continues, filling in the silence, and Kanao feels dread pool in her stomach, “Coach Ubuyashiki always did say she was a natural.” She smiles brightly at her youngest daughter, “Well, the correct word she used was prodigy,” She says this with all the confidence of a proud parent and Kanao’s heart aches, “But I don’t want you to ever think natural talent beats hard work.”

On the bed, Kanae doesn’t even blink, doesn’t even make any indication that she’s heard any of what their mother has been droning on about for the past hour. Kanao lowers her eyes to stare at the grout between the floor tiles. Unable to keep looking at Kanae.

“I’m getting something to drink,” Shinobu finally says, standing and walking out of the room without another word. 

Her mother digs around in her purse, pulling out a few bills and coins, “Go buy me something too, please.”

Kanao nods, standing and taking the money in her hand, secretly but ashamedly glad to have an excuse to leave. But just when she’s about to turn down the hall, something makes her look back, and just as the she slides closed the door behind her, she sees the defeated look on her mother’s face. Kanao hadn’t seen that look since that night at the hospital when they had been given the news of Kanae’s paralyzation.

It makes Kanao feel even worse than she already feels. Their mother has been trying hard. She’s been trying so hard. How could she be so selfish, she wonders? How could she be so upset that no one seems to be on her side when her entire family has fallen apart?

I’ll never be this selfish again, she promises herself and her mother silently. No matter what happens, even if I don’t reach my goal after the Olympics I’ll retire.

This promise to herself only spurs her on, and she trains harder. While she’s training for her triple axel, Tanjirou becomes one of her most avid supporters. She cannot lie and say that his encouragement didn’t have any effect on her because that would be a lie. Because it did, it definitely did. Any time he would say, “You’re so amazing, Kanao-san!” Her heart felt like it would jump out of her chest. Shinobu quickly takes notice of her flushed face and immediately begins her relentless teasing.

When Kanae also joined it had only gotten more mortifying.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed.” Kanae tells her, “He likes you. It’s cute.”

Kanao shook her head, “He doesn’t like me…he’s just…very encouraging. He’s like that with everyone.”

Kanae looks at her curiously, “But you like him?”

She couldn’t keep the redness off her face and her older sister smiled, “There’s nothing wrong with liking someone.” Her smile had strained a bit around the edges, and Kanao could only imagine what she was thinking about, “Sometimes it’s the inspiration you need.” She had fallen silent after that and Kanao hadn’t had the heart to say anything.

Everyone in the house had each individually arrived at the conclusion that the name Sanemi was taboo. There was no reason to bring up Kanae’s pain over and over again, she was trying to move on from it and they, as her family, had to help her. But it’s hard not to speak about it, especially when she saw Kanae’s longing written all over her face, and it was harder still when she’d show Kanao pink baby booties she'd knitted and say, her voice tinged with regret and false cheer, “Look! These will be perfect for when you have a baby!”

But then the world seems to splinter apart when Kanae and Sanemi come face to face, and all the progress Kanae had made goes down the drain. She reverts to being the same empty vessel that she had been like for so many months and Shinobu—well, Shinobu is furious.

Kanao doesn’t know what to do when Shinobu is suddenly spitting acid out of her mouth, grabbing Kanae by the hair and dragging her out of bed. But Shinobu forcefully pulls Kanae out of the pit she’s fallen into, and Kanao can only hold her sisters as she cries with them. The hurt they all felt for such a long time finally escaping out of their chests with every tear they spill.

And then—then the greatest thing happens.

Kanae and Sanemi after years and years of suffering finally, finally get married and Kanao could have shed tears of joy. She was so glad they hadn’t lost Kanae, to the accident or the depression she suffered afterward, instead her big sister was finally getting the happiness she had always deserved.

“It’s great isn't it?” A voice had asked from beside her and she’d turned to find Tanjirou smiling at her.

“Yes,” She had said, turning back to watch Sanemi and Kanae affectionately smear cake on the other's face, “It is.”

She hadn’t said anything else, but Tanjirou hadn’t left her side, instead they stood side-by-side, leaning against the wall watching as the newlyweds laughed.

“So…umm,” Tanjirou began, “I—would you—“ He stopped cleared his throat, “Would you like—I think you have the most perfect triple lutz triple loop combination I’ve ever seen in my life, like I know your triple axel is amazing but the height on your lutz! It’s so high!” He makes a motion with his hands, “And your spins! They’re so centered! I don’t know how you do it, you make it look easy.” He continues, his excitement making him louder and louder and Kanao looks at him in alarm, “So I was thinking—I was wondering—if maybe—sometime when you’re free I know you’re really busy—but maybe— would you like to hang out sometime? Maybe…”

When he finishes, he’s almost out of breath and she blinks, slightly parting her lips to say something, but she pauses, not really understating,

“To…teach you…how to spin?” She asks a bit confused.

Tanjirou flushes red, down to his neck, but he nods nonetheless, despite grimacing like he’s in pain.

“Umm,” She mumbles, nervously smoothing the skirt of her dress, “I’m not really good at explaining things.”

“That’s okay!” He says, suddenly lively, “I’m a visual learner! I just—just have to see it up close. Reeaaaaalllllyyyy up close.” He still looks heated under his collar but he clears his throat, and then more calmly tells her, “I would really appreciate it.”

“Oh,” She says, thinking to herself that it would be nice to talk to him more. “Sure, then.”

His face lights up in delight and when he smiles, Kanao feels she’s made the best decision of her life.

The ice show takes place on June sixteenth, almost a month after her twentieth birthday.

For her last performance, the choreographer is, much to her surprise, Coach Ubuyashiki’s husband, Kagaya.

“I know a thing or two about endings,” He had said, smiling a little sadly. 

He had not skated in a long time, from what Kanao had heard, but he must have loved it since he had invested his entire life to the prosperity of the rink.

Kanao’s performance will be the last on the roster, and the entire time, as everyone else runs from one place to another, trying to get changed in time for the next number, she sits quietly in the corner of the changing room. Trying to steady the beating of her heart.

When Coach Ubuyashiki comes to get her, ten minutes before her turn, she smiles encouragingly and says, “Remember what I said,” She pulls her in for a hung, “You’re always, always welcomed back.”

She nods, traitorous tears gathering in the back of her eyes.

Kanao skates with everything she has, shutting off coherent thoughts, and reason. She moves her body along to the sound of the music, until she’s no longer Kanao, but instead the dying swan that’s trying to cling to life. She pries open her heart until she has unveiled it all, and by then end, as she stands in the center of the rink, the applause of the audience like white noise in her ears, she realizes that tears are falling from her eyes. She looks up, tries to blink them away, to control them, but it’s impossible.

“I don’t want to stop,” She whispers to herself, “I want to skate forever.”

She clenches her teeth, because saying it out loud makes her want to sob uncontrollably.

She bows, once, twice, up to five times.

When she steps off the ice, Shinobu is there, looking at her worriedly, “What’s wrong?”

Kanao shakes her head, and moves past her, “I have to go.”

“Wait—“

Kanao doesn’t stay, doesn’t even say a word to anyone as she snaps on her skate guards and runs out. She doesn’t even bother changing out of her costume and only slips her sneakers on in the changing rooms. She has to leave, has to get out of here, her resolve is crumbling under the love she has for skating.

Like he knew exactly what was happening, her father is in the hallway when she opens the door and he, without letting Kanao say anything says, “Let’s go home.”

The next day, the formal announcement of her retirement is made by Coach Ubuyashiki and Shinobu is rightfully angry.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asks, half desperate and half hurt.

Kanao shook her head, not meeting her eyes, “It’s a decision I wanted to make on my own.”

Shinobu looks at her like she doesn’t know who she is, “But why? Are you injured? Are you bored? You—you’re so young! You could still continue, why in the world would you stop halfway?”

“Shinobu,” Kanae says, her voice serious, “It’s Kanao’s decision. We should respect it.”

“I would,” Shinobu snaps, “If her decisions lately weren’t so wrong.”

Kanao knows she’s talking about Tanjirou, and she lowers her head, because this topic has been alluded to more than once, and Kanao is tired of it. She doesn’t have the energy to defend herself, soon, everyone would understand that the decisions Kanao was taking were necessary.

“I have to talk to you about something important. Please come to my office tomorrow after school.”

The text from her father surprises her. It reads very ominously and without wanting to, her heart begins to beat anxiously in her chest. What could be so important that they can’t talk about at home?

For the rest of the afternoon that’s the only thing in her mind.

When she arrives at Kochou Pharmacy’s office building, the receptionist smiles brightly at her, “Hello, Kanao-chan! How have you been?”

Kanao gives her a polite nod, “Fine, thank you.”

The receptionist, who’s been working for the company for years, isn’t offended by Kanao’s almost clipped tone. “Kochou-san said to send you right up, your mother’s here too.”

“She is?” She asks, the anxiety now gripping her heart even more.

The older woman nods, “Yes, she’s been here since earlier this morning.”

Kanao nods again, “I’ll go right up then, thank you, Mina-san.”

She takes the elevator to the third floor, pulling her school bag closer to her body, and gripping the straps until her knuckles turn white. What could possibly be going on?

It’s not usual for her father to call her into the office, and even more unusual is her mother being here.

“I’m here to see my father,” She tells his secretary.

“Yes,” She says, hastily standing up from her desk, “Right this way.”

Even she seems anxious, and now Kanao is sure that whatever awaits her on the other side of the door is bad news. The secretary knocks on the wooden door and announces her arrival.

As soon as the door opens, her mother comes rushing to her, wrapping her up in a hug.

Kanao returns it, even though she doesn’t understand why.

“What’s going on?” She asks when she’s pulled away and Kanao takes notice of the other occupants in the room. Her father is there, standing by his desk, and there are other two men she doesn’t recognize. She looks at her mother and there are tears in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Let’s sit down sweetheart,” She tells her.

When they’re all seated, her parents on either side of her, and the two men sitting in front of them on the other couch, her father begins, “This is…Detective Kawamura-san,” He signals with his hand to one and then to the other, “And this is…” He pauses, his face pinching down into a frown, but he continues, “Manabe Eiji.”

“I’m your father's lawyer,” He helpfully supplies.

“Yes…” Her father answers, “He’s here to talk to you.”

Her mother cradles her hand in hers, squeezing it tightly.

“About what?”

“You will be turning twenty in a few weeks,” The lawyer says, “After this you will no longer be considered a minor under Japanese Law and therefore the current restraining order that’s in place against your biological father will expire.” He looks at her a little sadly, “That means he’ll be free to contact you…and I’m here to help you decide what you want to do.”

Kanao’s first memory is of waking up in a hospital and blinking up at the overhead lights. Anything before that—it’s a blank. Well, it’s more like a towering black wall that she’s never been able to break down. She’s asked about it but her father had told her it wasn’t the time to worry about such things.

“Don’t worry,” He had told her, “Don’t try to remember, it’s better that way.”

She had wanted to argue but once again the words had failed her. She knows that whatever happened must have been something bad but she’d poured over every case from eight years ago in the newspaper and nothing jumped out at her. Nothing jogged her memory. Nothing seemed like something that had happened to her.

She doesn’t even know if Tsuyuri Kanao was her real name—or a name that had been chosen for her by the Japanese government.

It’s why sometimes she feels like an impostor, like the happiness she has isn’t fully hers.

But the time to talk about it had come.

She hears the words, understands their meaning, but she still can’t grasp the magnitude of her circumstances.

Kanao had been born to an alcoholic mother and an abusive father. She had three older siblings and two younger ones. But before seven years old, her life had been hell. She’s almost glad that she can’t remember it because when she sees the newspaper clippings about the case surrounding her family, she can’t help but recoil from it.

Her biological father had beat to death her three older siblings over the course of Kanao’s fifth and sixth years of life, their bodies had been buried in the backyard of their house. Yet no one noticed because they’d never been sent to school, or registered at a hospital. Then when she was seven, her biological mother had drowned her two younger siblings in the bathtub because they wouldn’t stop crying. Still, no one knew about what happened and it would have remained that way too until there was an altercation and her biological father killed her biological mother in a fit of rage. It was only then that people took notice of the missing person and reported it to the police.

When Kanao had been found, she had been unable to utter a single word and she had been dehydrated, malnourished, and unresponsive. They’d taken her to a hospital where she’d spent three weeks recovering and sometime during her stay there, Kanao had forced her memories into the back of her mind until one day she woke up, and there was nothing but darkness.

The Kochou’s at the time had been looking to adopt a child and when they’d been told about Kanao, they’d gone to meet her at the hospital.

For her safety, her name last name had been changed by the state and her biological father wasn’t permitted to contact her.

Until now.

On the morning of May twentieth, an envelope is delivered to her father by the lawyer. It’s addressed to Kanao and it comes from Fuchū Prison.

Her father’s face had been grim when he told her, “He does not know your last name, or where you live, but he’s chosen to initiate contact. You don’t have to answer this letter, Kanao,” He looks at her like his heart is aching, “But…if you do wish to…see him or talk to him, you can.”

Kanao takes the envelope in her hands and doesn’t know what to do with it. She doesn’t even remember this man who claims to be her father, and whats more, he’s a murderer. He killed people. He killed his family. People she was supposed to love and yet she never would even know what their favorite colors were.

When she goes home, the envelope is like a weight that pulls her down under the waves. She feels like she’s drowning, like she might burst from the pressure. She takes the envelope in her hands, stares at her name written on the center, the handwriting barely legible, and slow anger consumes her. How dare he? How dare he?

He had killed Kanao too.

The Kanao that existed all those years before she woke up at the hospital with no memories. And he has the nerve—the audacity to reach out to her? Like he was entitled to her forgiveness just because he had donated his sperm?

Kanao doesn’t even know this man—hopes to never meet him—because she can’t help but feel like she already hates him. She rips the envelope apart, right down the middle, and then again and again and again until all that’s left are tiny, indistinguishable pieces of paper.

Later that night, her father knocks on her bedroom door. And she thinks, He’s my father, him. The head of Kochou Pharmacy, the man who makes up her first memory, the man who had been at the hospital when she woke up, and the one who ran his hands through her hair and said, “You’re safe now.”

He finds her sitting in her bed, pieces of the ripped letter in her lap and on the floor, and she’s staring out of her window. He comes close, and she says, her voice thick with tears, “I don’t want anything to do with this man.”

Her father doesn’t say anything and just sits beside her and pulls her into a hug. She clings to his shirt, “Don’t make me talk to him. Please.”

“I would never do such a thing,” He reassures her, “I’m on your side.”

She feels like a child again, like back when she woke up crying in the middle of the night from nightmares she couldn’t remember. She remembers laying in bed, petrified, scared out of her mind and not knowing why, and she remembers crawling out of bed and walking down the hall, silent tears pouring out of her eyes. She remembers standing in front of the bedroom door of the people that had told her, we’re your new family now. Remembers knocking on the door, her legs trembling, waiting for someone to open the door.

“What’s wrong, darling?” Her father would ask when he saw her.

Kanao was still at a stage where she couldn’t speak, couldn’t formulate even one word, but he would never get mad. Instead he’d kneel down to her level and ask, “Did you have a nightmare again?”

She would nod and he would pick her up, bring her into their room and settle her in the bed between them. Her mother would then wake up, take notice of Kanao’s crying face, and just pull her close, “It’s okay.” She would mumble half asleep into her hair, “We’re right here.”

“We’re right here,” Her father parrots now, in the present, “You’re safe.”

She nods, and tells herself, forces herself to believe, I’m safe.

After Tanjirou asks her to help her with his spins, little by little, they start spending a lot more time together. At first, it’s just during practice, she shows him her spins and he watches on the sidelines. Then he tries to imitate her but he fails miserably and all she can do is try not to laugh at his expense.

“I think—“ He begins, breathing heavily, “I’m just not flexible enough.”

She nods, “Most men can’t do I-spins or Biellman spins.”

“But I can try!” He exclaims, “Nezuko has an entire yoga routine that helped her, maybe I should do it too?”

“I don’t think it would hurt.”

“Great! I’m going to get right to work on that Kanao-sensei and then you can evaluate me again.”

Then they start meeting after practice. He invites her to get some ice-cream, “As a thank-you for your help,” He says, though his face is scrunched up like those times when he’s lying, and Kanao sees Nezuko shaking her head behind him, she even hears her when she says, Onii-chan you’re an idiot.

Kanao agrees, because she feels bad for him, but the after practice ice-cream becomes almost a routine. Except sometimes they’ll get crepes instead, or popsicles, or macaroons, or sometimes they’ll get nothing at all and just walk in the park talking about school or practice and the upcoming competitions.

It goes on like this for many months, and even when she’s out of the country, participating in international competitions, they still manage to talk on the phone a lot. It feels nice to have Tanjirou’s support and his friendship and she tries to tell herself that it’s enough. But sometimes she thinks about how nice it would be if she was able to hold his hand, or lean her head on his shoulder, or maybe even ki—

She has to forcefully shake those fantasies out of her head, they can’t be healthy. It doesn’t help that Shinobu’s teasing has been kicked up a notch.

“How’s your boyfriend?” She asks, with a smile on her face, every time she hangs up the phone when she’s done talking to him.

And Kanao, will ask back, almost snidely, “How’s yours?”

Shinobu always smiles coyly, but her cheeks are tinged pink, “Tomioka-san is great thank you for asking.”

Kanao can never win against her.

She tries to tune her sister out, focusing on their family’s newest arrival. Hiroyuki is the cutest baby Kanao has ever seen, true to his name he brings unending joy to their family, and he’s the apple of his parent’s eyes. Kanae’s eyes twinkle in pride and Sanemi can’t even pretend to be anything but happy. Kanao shower’s him with all the attention an aunt can give her nephew and more.

But there’s something that keeps bothering her, Shinobu’s joking aside, the entire rink has come to the conclusion that Kanao and Tanjirou are a couple. And she can’t ignore the collective teasing they all subject Tanjirou and her to.

“I’m really sorry,” She tells him, on one occasion, “Everyone seems to think we’re together…maybe…maybe we shouldn’t hang out so much.” And she almost surprises even herself for being able to talk so comfortably with him

His face had pinched down into an expression of almost pain.

“I—I don’t want to give people the wrong idea—“ She quickly adds on, thinking that his expression was due to annoyance but he interrupted her.

“Kanao-san,” He said, “I’m—“ He brings a hand to cover his face, “I’m sorry—I think—I should have been more clear about my intentions…”

She tilted her head in confusion, “Your intentions…?”

He nods, biting his lower lip, “I—you see, I really like you.” He looks at her, his eyes steady and unflinching. “Not as a friend.” He adds, “But as a man.”

Silence had descended on them and she had been left stupified.

“So,” He continues, when he realizes she won’t say anything, “I don’t mind that everyone thinks we’re together, actually—I’d very much like for it to be true…wouldn’t you…?”

“Oh,” Kanao mutters, realization dawning, “Oh.”

She brings her hands to cup her nose and mouth, she’s so embarrassed. All this time…all this time and she hadn’t understood. Tears prickle the back of her eyes and Tanjirou’s eyes widened in alarm, “It doesn’t have to be! If you—you hate it. We can still be friends—I—“

But Kanao is not letting another misunderstand pass.

“No,” She says, reaching for his hand, glad that it’s all she ever dreamed of and more, “I want it to be true too.”

Tanjirou’s breath catches in his throat, and he looks down to their joined hands, and when he looks up at her, she can see the joy in them.

When she wins Nationals that year, she skates with him on her mind, I’m in love she screams with her skating, I’m in love love love.

When she makes the Olympic team he’s there, lifting her up, kissing her cheek, and spinning her around, “Congratulations!”

“Thank you…and I’m sorry…”

He shakes his head, “Tomioka-san and Shinobu-san are the better pair team. Nezuko and I gave it our all and lost…fair and square. I don’t have any regrets, besides, we don’t intend to give up. Next time we’ll make it for sure.”

When Kanao comes back to Japan, silver medal dangling from her neck, she feels like she’s dreaming, like she’s on cloud nine.

It’s perfect.

Everything is perfect.

Until it isn’t.

Neither of her sisters was ever told about the exact circumstances of Kanao’s adoption. They’d been too young and the only thing they knew was that something had happened but they didn’t know what.

They, like the rest of the world, find out the truth when an article is published by in an online gossip column. Olympic silver medalist has ties to a serial murderer, get the scoop here first!

The article is an exclusive interview with Kanao’s biological father, this had been his mode of retaliation after Kanao had refused to meet with him. By some strike of misfortune, her biological father had found out that his daughter wasn’t a regular girl, instead she was an international acclaimed athlete and he would do all he could to ruin her life.

Her parents and their lawyer had been given a tip about the article that would release after her twentieth birthday and Kanao had made the decision to leave the public eye before her biological father had the satisfaction of seeing her publicly disgraced.

Her father hadn't taken kindly to the smear campaign and he’d employed three of Japan’s best lawyers, “I’m going to take this entire website down,” He’d told Kanao, “For having the nerve of trying to defame my youngest daughter.”

Kanao’s eyes had filled with tears and her mother had taken her to their summer home in the countryside to get her away from everything that was happening. Kanae and Shinobu had followed after they apologized profoundly to Kanao for not being supportive enough.

“It wasn’t your fault,” She told them, “It was no one’s fault.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Shinobu had said, gritting her teeth to keep herself from crying, “I was such a shitty sister, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I’m just sad…that this will make everything harder for everyone.”

“Shut up,” Shinobu had cut in, frustrated, “This isn’t time for you to be worrying about us.”

Kanao hadn’t said anything else, but she still felt responsible for the misfortune that was had fallen on the Kochou family yet again.

“Don’t get stuck in your head and try to keep everything bottled up,” Kanae told her, grabbing her hand with Hiroyuki gurgling on her lap, “Please, you don’t know how unhealthy it can be.”

“I won’t,” Kanao promised, squeezing her hand back, “I won’t.”

She pretends that her time in the country home is a vacation. She doesn’t pick up any phone calls, or go online, or read any newspapers or watch TV. Instead, she spends her days baking cookies and cooking with her mother, she goes on long walks along the country roads, she plays with Hiroyuki, and reads books, and writes in her journal. She even asks Kanae to teach her how to knit. In the afternoons she will go outside and help Shinobu tend to their abandoned garden and in the evenings she’ll sit in the engawa with her mother, sisters, and nephew, eating watermelon and telling stories from their childhood.

When she goes to bed, and she’s finally alone, she lays awake, missing Tanjirou and the ice. She lets herself miss the feeling of her aching muscles and the sound of her blades on the ice. She falls asleep and dreams about standing on the podium, waving to the crowd with her silver medal around her neck.

When Kanao wakes up, the sky is dark, and as she looks out of her window, she can see the clouds moving to and fro, preparing for a down pour. The whole of the morning passes in this fashion but she goes about her routine like normal.

“I wonder when it’ll start raining,” Kanae comments, looking out, “I just want it to rain already.”

Shinobu rolls her eyes, “You just don’t like the suspense.”

“Of course I don’t!” Kanae answers, “It makes me antsy.”

Kanao shakes her head, reaching for an umbrella, and Shinobu asks, “You’re still going on your walk?”

“Yes, I don’t wanna lose my streak.”

“Be careful then,” Kanae answers, “Come back as soon as it starts raining.”

“I will,” She reassures them and takes off.

She makes her way down the familiar roads at a slow pace, the umbrella at her side. She enjoys the views of the rice paddy fields, the mountains in the distance, the sky opening up before her. She enjoys the feeling of feeling small, seeing the immensity of the world in comparison to herself, makes her feel like she the world is so much bigger than whatever she could offer it. And then, whatever is happening beyond here, beyond her doesn’t matter.

She feels the slow drops of water on her face and she looks up, and just as she’s looking up, the sky opens up more, and the downpour that had been threatening to fall all day finally begins making its decent. She hastily opens up the umbrella, barely putting it over her head before she’s completely soaked down to her skin.

She decides to begin making her way back home, she doesn’t want to catch a cold, that’s the last thing she needs. Her pace walking back is three times faster than the pace she had walking away, and she speeds up even more when the ground begins to gain giant puddles. The rain makes it hard to see but she’s memorized the road and doesn’t feel doubts about the direction that she’s going in.

Except, maybe something is wrong.

There has to be something wrong.

Because standing about two meters away is Tanjirou.

Kanao comes to full stop, wondering if she's finally lost her mind. What in the world was he was doing here?

He’s breathing heavily as if he’d run the whole way here, the water making his hair stick to his forehead, and he’s looking at her like he’s seeing her for the first time.

“What—what are you doing here?” She asks, still in disbelief that he’s actually her Tanjirou.

“I came—I came to see you.” He says, stepping closer, and Kanao notes that he’s soaked. “I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to see you. Ever since—ever since that article came out—I’ve been wondering…and wondering and wondering—and I thought about being patient. I thought I should just wait for you to come back so I could talk to you but I can’t be patient.”

She stares.

“I asked your father—actually I’ve been asking him for the past month but he wouldn't tell me until…until yesterday so I came—I came to see you.”

“You’re going to get sick,” She says, ignoring his words, “We should head back.”

“Why did you break up with me?” He asks, ignoring her words.

She looks at him, unable to say anything for long seconds and he presses, “I have to know, it’s been driving me insane. I need to know.”

Her lips fall into a tight line, and he begs, “Kanao, please. Be honest.”

She looks down, and she says, “I didn’t think it would be…beneficial for you…after—after what’s happened.” She flickers her eyes to his and hastily looks away again, “You—you must know, that any relationship you have with me will reflect badly on you…and your family’s bakery.”

“Beneficial?” He asks, incredulously, “What are you even saying?”

Something like irritation rises up inside her at his tone, and she stresses, “Yes. It wouldn’t do you any good to have a murderer’s daughter as your girlfriend.” She feels tears prickle on the back of her eyes.

“But my girlfriend wasn't the daughter of a murderer.” He tells her, adamantly, “My girlfriend was the youngest daughter of the head of Kochou Pharmacy.”

“Tanji—“

“She’s Japan’s best skater! She’s the current record holder of the highest scores for both the short program and the combined total! The current Olympic silver medalist! She has the best Lutz I’ve ever seen! And a triple axel! And the best spins! She is one of the nicest, kindest, most thoughtful people I know!” She shakes her head, but he continues on “—And she’s a little dumb too but I can overlook that—we all have our dumb days, I think that's just human nature—”

“—Tanjirou—“

“—And I love her! I want to be by her side! I don’t care who her biological father is! Because my girlfriend had nothing to do with what he did!”

She can’t stop the tears that begin pouring out of her eyes.

“And I—“ Tanjirou continues, “—I’m sorry.” He bows down to a full ninety-degree angle, “I’m sorry that I wasn’t mature enough to be by her side—that she felt like she couldn't trust me.”

“—That was not—“

“—But I promise I will mature! I'm only nineteen but I will work hard to become the man that will always protect you! I promise, so please—“ He stops, and his voice cracks, “—Please give me another chance.”

When he's finished talking, they both fall silent, and Kanao can hear nothing but the rain falling on her umbrella. 

Yes, she wants to say, because she misses him terribly, misses their quiet conversation, misses the warm comfort that he brought. But—but she can't open her mouth. When she takes a moment and thinks about all the hardships he might face, just because of her, she freezes in her tracks. It will be difficult for Nezuko and him to get sponsors, it'll be difficult for his family. It's already difficult enough as it is with her own family's business stocks dropping and two of Shinobu and Tomioka-san's sponsors terminating their exclusive contracts. Because reputation was everything and hers had been smeared through the dirt and everyone she loved was being dragged down with her. 

She had tried hard not to think about it, but now she can't think about anything but that.

Slowly, Tanjirou raises his head to look at her when the silence had dragged on. She shakes her head, "No."

His face falls, and he clenches his fists, "But—but why?"

She grips her umbrella tightly, "I have made things harder for everyone already...I don't want to drag you down with me...I—I—" love you too much.

Tanjirou shakes his head, and then resolutely says, "I don't—I won't accept that. If it's my reputation you're so worried about, I've already discussed it with my family and they know that you have nothing to do with what's going on. They know you and they'll support you too, just like I will."

She shifts nervously on her feet, and her voice cracks when she says, "You—you might regret it..." And Kanao would never be able to live with herself if he hated her or resented her. 

"Am I so unreliable?" He asks, "That you won't trust me?"

"No!" She immediately answers, "Of course it's not that."

"Then why won't you trust me?"

"I'm scared!" She finally admits, the umbrella falling out of her hand and the rain soaks her immediately, "I'm terrified!" And suddenly she's unloading all her fears to him. "Everything is so wrong already and I don't want to make things hard for you! I don't want to get in the way of you achieving your dreams! I don't want to ruin any opportunities you might have! I don't want you to stay with me and then in the future realize that it wasn't worth it! I don't want—I don't want you to hate me!"

"I could never hate you." He states.

"You don't know that." 

"Yes I do! I've thought it over and over in my head. You are my first love and I hope you'll be my only love. When you broke up with me I realized that I don't want to face my future without you, no matter what happens, I want you by my side. So trust me, please, please trust me."

His words make her waver, makes her resolve shake, and she doesn't know what to say or what to do.

Tanjirou steps close to her, grabbing her hands and pulling her close to him, "You don't have to face this alone." 

His proximity crumbles whatever hesitations she had, and when he wraps his arms around her, she sobs uncontrollably into his shoulder. 

Tanjirou coughs and sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, "Do you think your dad is angry?"

Kanao pretends to think about it, and finally settles on, "He's furious."

He squeaks and lowers his head, pulling at his collar, "And here I told him I would protect you until the day I died."

"Well," She says laughing and reaching for his hand, "You have a long time to prove it to him."

It's not raining today, the sun is bright in the sky and it's nice enough out that they should be out exploring the countryside, but Kanao and Tanjirou are both 'grounded.' They sit on the engawa, both in their pajamas and cold compresses on their foreheads because after yesterday they'd both come down with fevers. Her family had made quite the fuss about it. 

She smiles at the memory as she leans her head against his shoulder and tries not to think about anything. Instead, as he intertwines their fingers, she focuses on him, on his quiet breathing and reassuring presence.

She's chosen to believe him, she'll set her overthinking aside and just believe.