Work Text:
It took all of Harumi’s strength to not implode when Chiyuki-san posed as Gerda.
How could he not? He was living a fanboy’s dream! There he was, in the same botanical garden featured in the most iconic scene from AtSaga, smelling the same air that Gerda smelled and walking the same pavement that Kai walked. If he wasn’t working, Harumi could have easily spent all day recording every part of the garden – just him, his camera, and his fanboying over AtSaga. Even as he and Chiyuki scoped out the area, he couldn’t help but compose shots in his mind for a theoretical AtSaga reboot. (Not that he was qualified enough to do that – Shimizu-san already did masterful work with the 1999 OVA – but he definitely could think of a few new ways the cinematographers could frame the ending scene... among other things.) It was the first time in his entire directorial career that he could ever remember enjoying his work.
At noon, he and Chiyuki stopped at the sacred AtSaga path to rest. The next bus would be arriving in thirty minutes, anyways, so it was best to stay by the entrance. Harumi sighed. After making sure that they had taken enough pictures, he sat on a stone bench on the side of the path to look at the AtSaga art on his Twitter. His favorite artist had just posted photos from the 20th anniversary art book. If he had friends who would put up with him, he mused… it would be fun to share that sort of thing with them, too.
“Harumi-kun?”
Harumi jolted.
“Ahh, yes?”
Chiyuki stood in front of him, lit by the midday sun. “Did you finish sorting through our pictures?”
“Oh, I’ve only looked through a few of them. I’m planning on reviewing the rest once we’re finished.”
“Same here,” Chiyuki sighed. “Good work today!”
“You too, Chiyuki-san.”
Harumi could only glance at Chiyuki’s nodding face for a second before looking away. Even after all the time they had spent together, for some reason, it was still strange to have full conversations with her – even if those conversations were about AtSaga. But little by little, it was getting easier.
This time, when Chiyuki sat down next to him, Harumi didn’t flinch away – or feel that he had to move away to calm his nervously fluttering heart. This time, when Chiyuki sat next to him, Harumi just looked at her with curiosity and fondness. He’d be lying if he said that his love for AtSaga was the only reason he enjoyed seeing her pose as Gerda.
“We have a little time before the bus comes,” Chiyuki hummed.
“Right,” Harumi said.
Chiyuki fell silent. Harumi peered at her. There was never a time where he had seen Chiyuki act so… bashful.
“Is everything alright?” he asked.
Chiyuki opened her lips, then closed them. A twinge of nervousness went through Harumi’s chest. Maybe it was exactly what he expected. Maybe he had finally exposed too much of his otaku self to Chiyuki. He knew that he had toed a fine line with her by bringing AtSaga into their work. Chiyuki was understanding, but she might have gotten annoyed with him after she had to rein in his otaku self. Especially when her dream job was on the line. Harumi was about to apologize when Chiyuki looked him straight in the eye.
“Why don’t we recreate Kai and Gerda’s ending scene for a picture?” she said.
And Harumi’s brain shut down.
“Eh… a picture? Really?”
There was no way that Chiyuki had proposed that idea. Recreating that scene together would reign at the highest level of AtSaga otakudom. But Chiyuki nodded again.
“We don’t know when we’ll be here again, so we should take a picture to remember it!”
Harumi sputtered. “Chiyuki-san… do you know what you’re suggesting?” When he realized the condescending implication of his question, he shook his head frantically. “A-ah! I didn’t mean to insult you. I just mean – are you really okay with that? You would really want to take that sort of photo with me?”
Chiyuki nodded. “Yeah! It’d be fun memory to have!”
She was right. This was the sort of fun thing that he used to dream about. If he could go back in time and tell himself that he would one day have friends who loved his favorite anime just as much as he did, his past self would have never believed it. Still, as much as that thought made him happy… it made him hesitate, too.
“That’s true, but… could I really stand in Kai’s place?” Harumi asked.
Wanting to be like Kai from the sidelines was something Harumi could already do very well. Actually acting as him, though, was entirely different. He didn’t even have a quarter of Kai’s bravery and strength. How, then, could he recreate that iconic moment confidently? And if he did recreate it… how could he be sure that Chiyuki would still respect him?
A pit formed in his stomach. Oh… it was disrespectful to think that Chiyuki would ever treat him so cruelly, especially after she had gone along with all his fanboy schemes. But after all the times he had listened to others disrespect otaku, a small part of him still wasn’t sure that he could trust his new friend. Even if he wanted to with all his heart.
To his surprise, though, Chiyuki didn’t do any of those things.
Instead, she smiled at him.
“You can definitely do it, Harumi-kun! You’re the biggest Kai fan I know, so if anyone should do it, it’s you!”
“Really…?”
“Yeah! And, well, to be honest, I have my own personal reasons for wanting to do this, too.” Chiyuki looked away for a moment before meeting his gaze. “You see… I also want to understand how Gerda felt when she watched Kai leave. That scene made me cry when I first watched it, so I want to stand in her place and understand how she truly felt. If I do that… I think that maybe I can write a script that moves my audience just as much as AtSaga moved me.”
Chiyuki nodded firmly, her eyes shining with optimism. Harumi’s breath caught in his throat. “You felt that way about them, too…?” he asked.
“Mhm! They were my favorite characters in all of AtSaga, actually.”
Hearing Chiyuki gush about screenwriting and AtSaga so openly was just… wholesome. She was genuinely happy in a way that no one could fake. Slowly, Harumi’s stomach settled. It seemed that Chiyuki really was an earnest otaku. And more importantly, she wanted to share her passion with him. She wanted to bond over their favorite series… together.
Harumi took a deep breath. Now that he knew Chiyuki really was a true AtSaga friend, he felt full of confidence. Stepping into Kai’s shoes would be much easier when they were both supporting each other.
“I see. From one fan to another, I understand completely. Okay,” Harumi said earnestly. “Let’s do it.”
“Woohoo! Let’s go!”
Chiyuki giggled. Together, they walked to the spot where Kai and Gerda last stood. Sunlight danced between the leaves, and the scent of flowers wafted through the garden. Harumi smiled all the way there. At the same time, he trembled with excitement and happiness and something very light and fuzzy.
“This is the spot, right?” Chiyuki asked.
“Yes, this is it!” Harumi said. He could recognize that pavement anywhere. As he shared a look with Chiyuki, he realized what the source of his light and fuzzy feeling: it was fanboy moe. And joy at seeing how happy Chiyuki looked. It really was beautiful. “This is the exact spot where Kai stood! Okay – Chiyuki-san! Stand over there, please!”
“Alright!” Chiyuki chirped. She bounced backwards a little bit. “Here?”
“Ah, move a little more to the left.”
Chiyuki shifted. “Like this?”
“Yes, perfect! Now I see why the director placed Kai and Gerda this way. In this position, the light from the window frames Gerda’s hair perfectly!” Harumi was so excited, he didn’t even think about censoring any of his fanboy thoughts. He knew that Chiyuki would listen. And not just listen. She would appreciate him, too.
“Oh, I can see why this blocking works so well for screenwriting, too! I can see your face so clearly in this light. Your expression is so easy to read, which is why Gerda could speak so openly with Kai!”
“And that’s why the directors of Atomic Saga are geniuses! Not only do they use the greenhouse to frame the scene, they also use it to reflect the vulnerability and honesty that Kai has to face!” Harumi laughed. “Thank you for coming here, Chiyuki-san… ahh, I’m so happy!”
“Now just channel all that energy into this photo!”
“Right! Let me see. Kai placed his foot to the right like this…”
Harumi adjusted his feet. He was a little shorter than Kai, so their picture wouldn’t have the same dramatic effect, but he had the general pose down. Next, he relaxed his shoulders, and then he combed his hair back. Good. Again, it wasn’t exactly perfect… but he at least felt that his recreation could do Kai justice.
The last thing to do was to focus on his Gerda. Across from him, Chiyuki, too, was brushing her hair away from her face. Harumi almost gasped. She had recreated Gerda’s iconic goodbye pose perfectly. She had straightened her shoulders and moved them back, just as Gerda did.
“This is it,” he breathed. “Okay. I’m ready, Chiyuki-san!”
“Me too!” Chiyuki said. “Whose phone should we use?”
Let’s take them on mine! Harumi wanted to say. He would take any opportunity to cherish their photos forever. But he had already taken those photos of Chiyuki posing as Gerda earlier, and he didn’t want to be greedy. Besides… Chiyuki needed these photos for her work, anyways. “Let’s take them on yours, if that’s okay.”
“Got it!” With that, Chiyuki pulled out her phone. It was pink, with the Fourth Tail fox charm he had gifted her still tied around the edge of the case. “Hmm, let’s see… how do we do this?”
Harumi paused. That… was a good question, one that he should have considered earlier. “Oh, I didn’t consider that. I was too excited… I’m sorry!”
“It’s okay! We’ll just get some firsthand experience in cinematography.”
“You’re right,” Harumi said. Chiyuki always knew what to say.
“Ooh, we’ll take a timed photo!”
“Yes, that’s a great idea! But how?”
“I’ll hold my phone out to the side, like this.”
“The angle might be too different, then… But… if the only other option is setting your phone on the floor, then I think holding your phone that way would be best.”
“Yeah, I think so,” Chiyuki said. “Wait just a second. I’ll set it up.”
Chiyuki’s eyebrows furrowed as she opened her Camera app. Once she had opened the app, she held her phone out to the side, making sure to get as much of them in the photo as possible.
“Okay!” Chiyuki said. “When I count down from five, I’ll press the button, so get in character and in position!”
“O-oh – already?!”
“Yup!”
“R-right!” Harumi said.
“Are you ready?”
He was as ready as he ever would be. Harumi nodded. He wiped the smile off his face and replaced it with Kai’s tight-lipped look of steely determination. Kai, please lend me your strength! “Yes!”
“Channel your inner Kai, Harumi-kun. And I’ll channel my inner Gerda, too!”
“I trust you, Chiyuki-san.”
“Got it! Okay… five… four… three.. two… one!”
Chiyuki locked eyes with him. As she did, she lifted her chin with the same calm dignity that made Harumi’s heart swell when he first watched AtSaga. Now, his heart skipped a beat for an entirely different reason. Even though she was acting as Gerda, Chiyuki was gazing at him in the same way that she always did: with bright eyes that really looked at him. She wasn’t judging him or making fun of him, like other people used to do. She was just enjoying the moment with him. She really, honestly liked AtSaga. And she liked that he loved AtSaga, too.
And as the camera took their photos, Harumi’s eyes softened.
Oh.
Oh, he liked Chiyuki so, so much.