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When she met him all those years ago, [Name] couldn't understand why she felt so drawn to him. She could never wrap her head around the idea that tagged along when his image crossed her mind.
There was nothing special about him. Absolutely nothing . He was a face in the crowd. Someone who just so happened to be there when she was standing in the middle of the ballroom. He was someone who coincidentally just wanted to blend in—a dance was a redirecting tactic so it seems.
So why did his eyes look at her like that ? How could he dare to look at her with all the stars in the sky and say it was nothing more than convenience? How could he play off this—this... this incessant drumming inside her chest that had her heart wanting to run out of her body and straight to him? How could he look at her like that?
How could he stand there and look like loving her would be his honor? That being on the receiving end of her adoration would be enough to last him this lifetime? Or that being the guy whom she harbored affection for would be the greatest thing he'd be blessed with in this life and all the next?
But he did.
He dared to dream beyond that moment, and it brought him to where he stood now. As if fate had a lasting impression on them.
Nagumo had met her again but this time, he was sure— this time he was sure he'd get it right.
"Nagumo!" A shrill voice called, running as fast as his legs could take him to the assassin who stood before the windows overlooking the gardens. "[Name]—"
At the mention of her name, he had already closed the distance that separated him from the informant.
"What—" his head turned in an uncomfortable position to glare at the man, " did you do to my wife ?" His voice was frosted, as if they were plunged into the depths of the oceans that housed all his hostility.
The small man looked at Nagumo in fright, not expecting the assassin to hold his weapon against his person who only ever wanted to tell Nagumo the whereabouts of his beloved. He should have known something was off when his other superior, Shishiba, had asked for his assistance when the blond man had once never even bothered to accept any help from anyone before. The informant thought it would be a simple job, one that would end just like all his other errands: convey the information and be done with it.
Now it seems that his life would be done with before he could even finish saying what needed to be said.
"She—she," Nagumo lifted the man from the ground by the collar, inching the weapon impossibly closer to the area on his neck that could sniff out his life. "She's by the gardens—"
He couldn't even finish the rest of his sentence when the tattooed assassin had already taken off, disappearing behind the corridors with his yukata fluttering in the spring gale. The open window was the only remnant that he was even in the room, and of course the frightened worker who just wanted to do his job.
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"So," Nagumo gazed at her softly, raising his eyebrow as a gesture for her to continue. "What are you doing up there?"
[Name] looked down at him from the tree branch she sat on. "Oh, you know... just admiring the clouds."
Earlier, Shishiba had asked her the same query, except her answer was far different from the one she gave her husband just now.
‘Why are you sitting up there?’ Shishiba would ask.
‘Waiting for my husband to come by.’ She would answer.
Perhaps Shishiba had informed Yoichi and he came rushing here like his life depended on it.
Nagumo leaned against the trunk and continued to observe her figure from below, threads of [h/c] waltzing to the tune of the breeze, leaves that fluttered across the space that separated them painted fleeting shadows over her face, the heavens housed within those vibrant [e/c] irises.
"Why'd you marry me, Yoichi?"
Her voice held a certain softness to it, as if she feared the answer that was yet to come. Did she think of herself as someone unbefitting of him? Does she label herself unworthy? Or was she in doubt of his affection?
She shouldn't.
If anything—Nagumo was the one who thought himself fortunate enough to be granted the chance to be loved by her. Everybody wants her—all the heavens wonder what it would have been like to love her. And he was the only one lucky enough to do both .
I love you , he would say. And I'll love you for as long as you'd let me .
"What are you talking about, dear?" he smiles, half a mind wanting to climb the tree and be nearer to her, the other half wanting to just stay put and see how nature pales in comparison to her.
"What makes me so special, huh?" [Name] leaned in further to the tree trunk, side-eyeing her proclaimed husband, mirroring the same affection on her face as he had held for her.
Silence was left to drown in the weight of her words, because as he was—Nagumo was unsure with what to say.
He could have named a thousand things—and he reckons a thousand more after that... and it still wouldn't have been enough.
It meant more to him, that day, that moment, all those moons ago.
When destiny tied her fate to his. The day the heavens smiled down on him and allowed him the chance to hold her hand. To dance with her under the guise of convenience.
She never knew that. And Nagumo was most certain that she never will. How could someone as great as her even remember the face of someone like him? Not when so many sunsets have already passed them by.
[Name] released a breath of air, eyebrows creasing as a look of anxiousness colored the hills of her face at his lack of feedback.
For the next minutes or so, she didn't bother filling the unnerving silence left by his unresponsiveness; opting to just permit the sound of rustling leaves to whisper melodies into her open ears.
"Nothing."
What?
[Name] craned her head to meet his stare, whether due to her being startled by his sudden answer or the meaning of what he just replied.
And she thought to herself, was there a proper way to sick a husband in the face when he tells you that there was nothing special about you?
"There is absolutely nothing special about you, my love," was his answer, smiling at the woman perched on the top of a tree branch as if his statement did not just cause a turbulent downpour of emotions in her heart. And he even has the nerve to repeat such things! And call her love! Has he relinquished all shame?
I may not have the most experienced dating life out there but I'm not so much of an idiot to not know that those words are not what you say to your wife ! Even if we are married for less than a year !
"Tch. So typical of you to say—" [Name] rolled her eyes at him and looked away, crossing her arms over her chest as she directed her attention to the ducks swimming around the pond.
"It's just that—" he began, tapping the tree trunk in a karate style way and holding his arms out, "without you..." the grown plant started emitting creaking noises and soon enough it landed on the ground with a very noticeable thud, " nothing is special ." He whispered, holding the woman who once sat on the now fallen tree.
"Now, let's go back inside... shall we?" he grins.
[Name] couldn't comprehend why she felt such emotions for him.
Yoichi was always so spontaneous and straightforward, he spoke when he felt the need to correct someone and he did so without remorse.
She didn't understand, there were so many people out there who are better than him and yet... her heart continuously longed for his attention, the kind of attention that she once had though she will never get.
In that light, during once upon a time, she had so badly wanted to give up on him... find someone better—still, the more she pried into his soul to uncover his flaws, the more his imperfection came flooding into her sight... the harder she fell .
Every breath he took was magic.
To [Name], every word he spoke was like a spell, hypnotizing her deeper into loving someone like him.
After years of questioning why she had fallen for someone like Nagumo, it soon became clear that she didn't treasure him just because he was good-looking, gods he had such a horrible fashion sense when he danced with her all those years ago... [Name] did not cherish him as she had now just because he had a nice smile, or a certain way with words that would leave her flustered or annoyed.
No.
Sure, she loved all those things about him and she knew that she would come to feel the same way many, many steps into the future, but those were something that could be seen by the world. Those were things that people could see—traits that others were capable of discerning at a single glance.
[Name] liked him because he was flawed , his imperfections were proof that even someone that seemed almost perfect as him, could feel hurt... could be capable of needing someone.
And I once had hoped that the someone that he would need could be me...
So how fortunate am I that I have you here ? That you turn to me when you are hurt, or scared, or in need of someone to lean on ?
It was nice to feel wanted—even more so, it feels nice when you are loved. But how many people can say that they feel safe? That they feel secure and seen; they cast away all the masks, all the faces shown to the world, every wall is still held up high but a door is wide open for you to enter. To see all the things growing in the gardens of their hearts, and know that you are trusted with something they held dear.
Nagumo could thank all his stars, every wish he had ever cast into the galaxies... but deep down, [Name] knew, she would always be the lucky one.