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The summer sun today is an unforgiving, scorching force down Haruka’s back, and he briefly thinks to himself, I should’ve stayed home.
It’s only a fleeting thought, though, because within the next minute, Kiryu’s hand is slipping into his, providing a sufficient distraction from the heat. Haruka stumbles a little over his feet as Kiryu gives his hand an insistent tug, trying to pick up the pace. “Almost there, Sakura-chan!”
Indeed, a few seconds later, they’re stepping into the shopping mall, finally escaping the sun.
Today’s date was Kiryu’s idea, though Kiryu could suggest trekking through a junkyard as a date and Sakura would probably say yes. (Well, he’d be a bit judgemental about the idea, but he’ll still agree, because of who it is rather than the place itself.)
Haruka breathes a sigh of relief at the burst of cool air over his skin, courtesy of the mall’s strong air conditioning. He glances over at Kiryu again, who somehow looks like they haven’t broken a sweat, and takes a moment to wonder how that’s possible. They’re just like Suo—so composed all the time, even in the face of the intense force that is the sun. Haruka almost gets annoyed.
“Where d’ya want to go first?” he asks as they’re riding up the escalator. Kiryu has finally let go of his hand, though Haruka thinks he wouldn’t mind if it remained in his. He brushes the thought away before it can embarrass him.
Kiryu looks over their shoulder. Their hair is tied up today, likely due to the heat, and Haruka gets the urge to swat at their ponytail. “Hm… Are you hungry yet? We could stop somewhere for lunch first.”
As if on cue, at the notice of food, Haruka’s stomach grumbles. Betrayal.
Kiryu laughs like it’s the funniest thing in the world, their cheeks tinted pink from amusement. “Lunch it is, then.”
“This one would look so cute on you!”
Haruka drops his gaze to the shirt Kiryu is holding out. The fabric is a light shade of blue and surprisingly soft to the touch, but when Kiryu turns the shirt around, Haruka is met with the most ridiculous graphic pattern he’s ever seen. It looks like a child tried to spray paint a star onto it but did not have even the slightest crumb of motor skills to do so.
“Really?” he asks, taking the shirt with a doubtful twist of his lips. He holds it against his own body—the hem of the shirt barely reaches his bellybutton. Is it meant to be this short? “It’s… loud.”
Loud in the way that this is something Nirei or Kiryu might wear. Haruka has never owned too much colour in his closet. They clash weirdly with his already unique appearance, for one, and they’re hard to match too. Black and white is simpler.
“You might change your mind if you try it on,” Kiryu says, undeterred by his hesitance. So that shirt goes onto the growing pile of items that Haruka is balancing on his arm.
They continue roaming around the store together, though it’s mostly Kiryu leading while Haruka just follows after. Not that he really minds too much—he’s not the most adept when it comes to shopping anyway, and he doesn’t want to look like an idiot standing in the middle of a mall, unsure where to turn or look. He only started doing things like going to the mall after he met his friends in Furin, plus money is another factor always kept in the back of his mind, so Haruka never really lets himself shop.
With Kiryu, though, Haruka doesn’t need to think at all. Shopping is a hobby rather than a necessity for Kiryu, and the fun comes from the exploration more than the actual buying. Haruka knows Kiryu will never pressure him into getting something he doesn’t want to as well, so overall the entire experience feels much more relaxing.
“Aren’t you going to get any to try for yourself, too?” Haruka asks at one point, as Kiryu is attempting to place a hat on his head. Haruka is only dodging because the hat comes with a dumb pair of pink cat ears, and he is not wearing that.
“Eh, it’s more fun to dress someone else up,” Kiryu replies with a smile. They give up and put the hat on their own head instead. The cat ears blend surprisingly well with their hair, and Haruka pauses, distracted. “But if you’d like, Sakura-chan, you can pick out clothes for me later too!”
“R-Really?” He turns his head, eyeing the rows and rows of clothes available. That feels like too heavy of a responsibility… What if he picks out things that Kiryu hates? He’s famously not good with clothes! The first time Nirei saw his closet, he genuinely shed a tear!
“Of course! But for now” —Kiryu nudges Haruka in the direction of the changing rooms, a slow grin forming on their lips— “let’s get you dolled up.”
(“You’re messing with me!” Haruka yells through the door of the changing room, staring at himself in the mirror, trying and failing to tug the cropped tee down. His midriff remains exposed. “There’s no way this is my size!”
“Bet you look hot either way,” Kiryu calls back with a giggle.
Haruka’s cheeks burst into flames. “Shut up!”)
Shopping for Kiryu proves to be much easier than Haruka thought.
They’re easy to please, for one, and they’re willing to wear just about any colour. Haruka still tries, obviously, based on what he knows about Kiryu’s style. He may not be a fashionista like Nirei or have an eye for colour matching like Tsubaki, but he can make decent guesses rather than just grabbing anything off the shelves.
For example, he knows Kiryu likes oversized outerwear. They’re always stealing Haruka’s jackets, claiming they like drowning in ‘boyfriend material’, whatever that means. They like anything soft and comfortable too, so Haruka makes sure to keep that in mind. His hands land on a nice sweater the shade of pastel green, and he immediately pulls it off the hanger.
Kiryu normally wears pants too… anything loose-fitting and easy to move around in would be good, for practicality purposes. As Haruka is fiddling through the racks, his fingers brush past something smooth, and he pauses.
It’s a skirt. Haruka hadn’t noticed he'd walked into the women’s section of the store, but now that he’s looking around, there’s an entire row of dresses and skirts here.
Grimacing, he moves to take a step back, but then he hears Kiryu’s voice floating over, asking, “Sakura-chan, what are you looking at?”
Haruka tears his hands away from the clothes. “Nothing.”
It’s too late. Kiryu has already spotted him. They appear by his side, resting their chin on his shoulder, and Haruka’s neck warms when he feels Kiryu’s breath kissing over his skin.
“Ooh!” Kiryu says. “These are pretty. Which one are you picking for me?”
“I—” Haruka hesitates, eyes darting to the side. He keeps his gaze pinned on the stain on the floor, fiddling with his own fingers. “You… You don’t mind wearing these?”
“I’ll wear anything for you if you ask!” Kiryu jokes back instantly.
Haruka scowls, about to give them a piece of his mind—for what, he doesn’t even know, he’s just embarrassed about everything and nothing at once. But then Kiryu is slipping a hand around his bicep, giving him a little squeeze for comfort.
“It’s fine,” they whisper, “just pick one.”
With his voice stuck in his throat, all Haruka can do is nod wordlessly. In his head, he chides himself for being so… so bad at this, or incompetent, or something, but he tries not to dwell on it for too long. His hand inches out again, towards one of the options, tugging it from the hanger.
It’s a long and flowy white skirt, in a style Haruka doesn’t have the words to describe, but it’s lightweight and dreamy-like and it reminds him of clouds. He hears Kiryu chuckle into his ear, and he closes his eyes, trying not to fluster any further.
“This one’s nice,” he mutters. “…If ya want to try it.”
“Okaaay,” Kiryu sings, taking the skirt from him with a pleased hum. “I think I have enough here. Let’s go!”
Together, they make their way to the changing rooms. Kiryu disappears into an available cubicle with a little wave, sliding the curtain close behind them, and Haruka leans against a nearby wall, waiting.
The first few articles of clothing that Kiryu tries on are all tops. Various sweaters and jackets, and a t-shirt with a bunny graphic that he couldn’t help but take—it reminded him too much of his partner. Kiryu does a little pose every time they show Haruka something, and Haruka gives them little nods of acknowledgement each time, content to watch them shine.
The more time passes, though, the more antsy he gets. He keeps telling himself that it’s not a big deal and that he’s thinking too hard about nonsense, but he can’t help his mind from stressing anyway. What if Kiryu hates the skirt and Haruka gets a bad grade in picking out clothes for your partner? How’s Haruka supposed to know anyway—he’s never seen them wear anything like that!
The curtain slides open. Haruka jumps, snapping out of his thoughts, only for his throat to instantly dry.
Kiryu steps out of the room, donned in the green sweater and the skirt that Haruka picked out for them earlier. The skirt brushes just above their ankles, and when Kiryu does a quick spin, it sways alongside their movements, elegant and graceful. Haruka can’t tear his eyes away.
They grin, either oblivious to Haruka’s discomposure, or enjoying it immensely. Probably the latter.
“Well?” Kiryu prompts, peering at Haruka. The skirt swishes as they step closer. “What do you think?”
“It looks—” Haruka coughs, trying and failing to clear the lump in his throat. Heat creeps up his cheeks and his heart throbs violently in his chest. He feels sick. In a good way? “You look nice.”
Kiryu’s grin widens as they clasp their hands behind their back. “Just ‘nice’?”
Haruka is going to die here. “…Pretty. Very pretty.”
Kiryu bursts into laughter, and Haruka is torn between sinking into a hole or making a grab for them to shut them up. He does neither, instead just covering his burning face with a hand until Kiryu takes pity on him and disappears to change back.
When they exit, they’re back in the outfit they were originally wearing for their date. They dump most of the clothes onto the return counter, rifling through the stack to pull out a few that they intend to buy. Noticeably, the skirt is one of them.
“I’ll wear this one on our next date,” Kiryu promises, going up on their tiptoes to press a kiss to Haruka’s strawberry cheeks.
“Shut up,” Haruka replies, dragging them to the cashier and holding back a smile.
The end of the day comes faster than Haruka would’ve liked, the way time always passes like sand through his fingertips whenever he’s out with the people he loves.
He and Kiryu stop by Pothos on the way home for dinner. Apparently, Kiryu texted Kotoha beforehand to let her know in advance that they were coming, so by the time they’re entering her café, there are two plates of omurice waiting for them on the counter.
“Kotoha-chan!” Kiryu greets excitedly, striding in while Haruka’s eyes zero in on the food. “Look at my haul today! Sakura-chan picked them out for me.”
Haruka decides to leave them to their own devices. He settles into one of the stools, digging into his dinner with gusto. Although, he still keeps an ear in the conversation between Kotoha and Kiryu, just because he likes listening to Kiryu talk, especially when they’re expressing joy. Which is an almost-constant state from them these days, and one Haruka hopes will maintain.
He still doesn’t know how to handle it sometimes—people like Kiryu, and even the rest of the townsfolk in Makochi, whose actions are all coated with easy affection, like they never have to give it a second thought. Haruka isn’t the same way. Even thinking about mimicking the gestures Kiryu makes at him sometimes causes Haruka’s stomach to churn with nerves, like he’s already bracing himself for premature rejection.
Haruka has always felt that there was something different about him. His odd appearance was enough to make him stick out like a sore thumb, unable to hide from dagger-like eyes no matter how hard he tried, but even when he was placed into an environment like Makochi, he didn’t fit in. He was too rough, with words too abrasive and only the ability to use his fists. His friends shared their love, and Haruka could only fumble in return, poorly attempting to recreate their companionship.
But Kiryu is always so patient with him, never pushing Haruka to do more than he’s comfortable with. And if even the smallest deeds like picking out clothes for them makes them shine so brightly…
Maybe even Haruka’s version of love is enough.
By the time they’re leaving Kotoha’s café, satiated and tired, Haruka has made up his mind. Kiryu lifts their hand to say goodbye and go their separate ways, but Haruka catches their wrist midair, interrupting, “I’ll walk ya home.”
Their eyes widen in surprise. Again, Haruka feels a sick sensation rising up his throat, but he forces himself to face them head-on, refusing to waver.
“…It’s a bit of a walk,” is what Kiryu ends up saying. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.” He rearranges their hands so that their fingers may interlace, just like how it was at the start of their date. Then he gives them a light tug, jerking them into action. “Come on.”
A small smile grows on Kiryu’s face. “What a gentleman,” they tease, leaning into Haruka’s side. “Careful, Sakura-chan. You’ll have all the ladies falling for you if you keep this up.”
“You’re the one who's popular, not me,” Haruka mutters with an eye roll. Not that he thinks they shouldn’t be—anyone with eyes can tell that they’re the whole package. Pretty, sweet, an incredible fighter…
“Aww, are you jealous?” they laugh. “Don’t worry, Sakura-chan, I only have eyes for you!”
Haruka lets out some unintelligible grumble and makes a halfhearted move to kick them. Kiryu just laughs harder, holding his hand tighter in response.