Chapter Text
During their freshman year at college, Shima and Mitsumi continued having interactions eerily similar to the ones that built the comfortable and easygoing friendship dynamic they had shared for years now.
Sometimes, the interactions seemed so alike, it appeared as though they were simply admiring photographs of their common past. Even so, they found themselves doing new things too, like crossing paths in the library and calling it kismet. Or making a habit of meeting for coffee in between their classes.
One morning after a particularly tiring class for both of them, they sat across from each other at their usual corner table and waited for the barista to call their names.
Mitsumi used the little cup-creamer packages to create unbalanced soon-to-be tumbling towers, and Shima watched as she did. He covered his face while laughing, as he watched her.
He was only pulled back to earth when he heard their names being called from the counter. As usual, he went to get their orders, and delivered them not only safely but swiftly on their table.
Mitsumi took a sip of her mocha, immediately after offering the brightest smile she could to him, before asking, ‘‘How was class today?’’
It was almost like she could read his mind nowadays. ‘‘It’s getting less challenging. And now that I am actually enjoying the class, it really opens my mind up to new perspectives.’’
He, initially, had trouble getting accustomed to this specific professor’s style of teaching. But, thanks to Mitsumi’s advice and one very helpful T.A, he was now getting by!
‘‘I’m glad to hear that.’’, Mitsumi muttered before taking another sip and smiling.
Their conversations over coffee always brought a certain warmth and simplicity to Shima’s days. There was nothing like it. It was a feeling he could only ever describe as belonging. He sometimes caught himself opening up more than he ever had, lightheartedly, as their shared laughter filled the air with complicity.
He adored spending time with her so much that he often spent the entirety of his morning looking forward to their meetings together. And, though he had never told her so, he found himself thinking about her after they had met, too; simply replaying their conversations in his head. Trying to remember what she had laughed at and when she had smiled or frowned.
While writing characters for class, he discovered he tended towards sunshine personalities, driven like the girl he had known for so long, and airheads like her too. He just loved how much they reminded him of her. He sometimes dared to wish she would think of him too while doing homework. Though how exactly he is involved as she hypothetically resolved the tensions between China and the United States was a mystery to him.
Days often passed happily and without any regrets. Except for the days in which they didn’t. To be honest, from time to time, regret and pain clung to Shima relentlessly, refusing to let the past go.
It was shameless, really. Constantly the embarrassment overtook him, and he would stay awake at night, tossing and turning as he pondered his past actions and words. He would make a mess out of his bed, unable to sleep. Several times he had even stayed up long enough to hear the morning birds’ chirp as the first rays of sunlight showered his room. Sleep evaded him so easily some nights and he was at fault for it.
He, of course, knew that much. He was aware of it, alright?!
He knew (even in high school) that after everything that happened between them, Mitsumi was in her right to give him the cold shoulder, it would’ve been well deserved.
However, she never did. He started to think she perhaps was incapable of it. She invariably treated him with the same endearment she always had, the one she showed all her friends. And it was all eating him alive.
Was it better if he just let it be? If they continued pretending whatever happened never did happen? Or was he at fault, and therefore responsible for bringing it up? Did Mitsumi even think about all of this, or was he just overthinking and about to ruin something good?
Whatever the answers to all these questions were, he did not care, for he had decided already what he would do.