Work Text:
Before they even reached the first traffic junction from the campus, Kanda turned to her.
“What are you upset about?”
“E-Eh?” So direct! It had been a year and three months since they got together, so moments like that usually wouldn’t have taken Ookuma by surprise. She gave a small, embarrassed laugh. “You can tell?”
One of Kanda's eyebrows arched. She glanced down at her, too, a good half a head’s height between them, sparking Ookuma’s fleeting envy over not being able to do the same. It poofed the second it came, replaced by the encompassing thought that, wow! Her girlfriend’s tallness was always so hot.
Kanda’s question jolted her back onto the concrete pavement.
“How long have we been together?”
“Oh! Um.” Ookuma began counting the days of each month across her knuckles. She got this! “27th of May was on Tuesday of the fourth week into the first semester, and it was at 4.14pm, so that means—”
“Woah woah woah, I meant that rhetorically!” A pause. “Wait, was that when you first asked me to go to that festival? You remember the time?”
As they stopped by the road whose light was still red, a van trucked by, rumblingly loud, but Kanda’s gray eyes were on her. With vigour, Ookuma nodded.
“It was when your Critical Reading lecture ended.”
“You remember my class?!”
More than a year ago, the response from Ookuma’s heart would’ve just been: “Yeah! You once showed me your timetable from that semester, remember?”
Alas, she had known so little about relationships back then, about how they worked. The Ookuma Satomi of today was one year and three months wiser. Worldlier. Educated in the ways of romancing Kanda Mizuki. So her response from her heart was:
“Noticing and remembering details about important things is a habit to me, just like how taking my hand on a busy road is a habit to you.”
She raised an index finger, too, like she’d seen Professor Saito do before her students. That had made her sound like an authority on the subject, although this was not about medieval literature; this was about something far more ancient and far more precious: professing a woman’s love.
“And Kanda-kun, you are very important to me.”
Kanda’s lips parted.
“So naturally,” she continued, “I notice and remember things about you.”
“I... Yeah... I got that.”
Kanda’s face looked funny when it was red like that. Affection running through her, Ookuma beamed.
“You’re doing this on purpose,” said her girlfriend.
“Hmm? Doing what?” Ookuma wound an arm around hers, and oh! The material of her jacket felt really comfortable. Kanda had the best fashion sense. She snuggled her cheek against it. “I’m just saying I love you.”
“Doing- I- I mean, me too.” Kanda clutched her to her side more tightly. “Anyway, don’t change the subject. I was worried about you.”
“Ehehe, you’re so kind.”
The red light turned green, and on cue, Kanda’s fingers slipped into Ookuma’s, their palms warming to each other’s touch.
Ookuma squeezed the fingers against hers as they walked. They were the only ones in the center of the street, apart from a few sedans behind the stop line. It made little sense, but hand in hand like this, she felt as if the two of them were untouchable and on top of the world.
Kanda nudged her with an elbow.
“Just tell me what’s wrong. No hiding from each other, remember?”
It was like being doused with water. Ookuma fell quiet—the way she had been since they left the campus grounds, she realized. Her face colored. Oh, she’d been so obvious!
She laughed a bit, looking ahead. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Your expression since we left school says otherwise, though.”
They reached the opposite pedestrian walk, where they had three more streets to turn into and follow until they arrived at the train station. It was a long path ahead before they went their opposite ways, so maybe she should just be out with it now. Talking about her feelings always made her feel lighter and better, like Secchan once advised.
But every time she admitted her problem to her classmates, their reactions often left her feeling confused and a bit distanced. After a lot of bugging, Secchan had finally said that depending on who she said it to, it could come off as slightly insensitive, but if that was the case, then how would she know who she could say it to? As a result, Ookuma had kept it in.
Behind them, the cars started up their journey across the road again. Kanda, on the contrary, stopped next to the traffic light, and because their hands had remained linked, it brought her to a stop as well.
Her girlfriend was frowning.
“Ookuma?”
A beat passed, and Ookuma caved.
“I… I got a 68 for one of my essays.”
Kanda made a sympathetic sound. “Upon 100?”
“N-No.” Oh, this is always the embarrassing part, she thought, trying not to shy away. Kanda’s grasp of her stopped her short anyway. “Upon 80.”
As she expected, Kanda’s eyes widened. “What? That’s amazing.”
The feelings in Ookuma burst. “I know it’s considered good. It’s just- I’ve always gotten above 90% for every test, so when I got that today, I-” She clapped her hands to her eyes, dragging Kanda’s hand along with it—and oh, it felt lovingly warm on her cheeks. She kept it there, selfishly. “I cried after class, too,” she admitted, feeling herself tear up again. Thankfully, she had her makeshift expression shield, but she still couldn’t help the wobble in her voice. “I’m such a crybaby.”
“Hey.” She felt Kanda pat her head. “Hey, it’ll be okay.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
Ookuma peeked out from between the three hands on her face. Four, if she counted the one buried in her hair. “I’m not a disappointment.”
It came out like a question, rather than a statement.
“Don’t be stupid,” Kanda said. “You’re not.”
They stood there by the road, the afternoon cars rumbling by. Ookuma didn’t have many words in her then, although she knew she typically had many. “You’re always so confident, Kanda-kun,” she said. “How are you doing it?”
“I’m not. I’m really not.”
“Kanda—”
“Ookuma,” Kanda said. “I learned that from you. But it’s fine to feel upset over that. You’re used to scoring well, huh?” She patted her head, as much as she could given the limited movement of her hand. Her palm was heavy, but a good-weight sort of heavy, grounding her. “Want to go eat at that curry place you’re always raving about?”
Ookuma looked up. “You’re willing to try it?”
“Just this once,” came the dry response. The hands pulled away, only pausing for a moment to rub her jacket sleeve at Ookuma’s eyes. It wasn’t very effective, because the jacket was waterproof, but it made Ookuma’s heart feel fuzzy, like sprizzles of warmth. “C’mon.”
The relief emanating from herself was probably palpable, Ookuma thought, leaning into it. They restarted their journey, down the street and towards the train station, but this time, they took a detour, to the little curry restaurant where they would spend their afternoon.