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Her phone wakes him.
He groans in protest because he knows what that means. He doesn’t give a shit about his own communications device. No-one really needs to get in touch with him anyway and if they do they know to talk to Mako. But people want to get in touch with Mako all the time. He knows what her life was like before. The not sleeping, the always pushing herself, the answering her phone at all hours of the night. Some things have changed, some have not. But the phone thing is one he wishes like hell would.
His eyes open when he realizes the damn thing is still ringing and Mako isn’t in bed.
He isn’t alarmed. The light is on in the bathroom, he can see the glimmer from under the door. He considers letting the phone ring, but he doesn’t see a point. It’s not like the whoever is on the other end of the line doesn’t know he’s in the same room as her. He leans over the top bunk and picks up the device, squinting at the word on the screen. Mako’s been practicing his Japanese with him, but its more a conversation than writing.
"Hello?" he answers the phone.
"Yeah I found this phone," the voice on the other end comes, "this was the most called number."
He swears when he realizes he’s lost his phone without even noticing. Even so he swings his legs over the side of the bed and grabs his jeans just to make sure. Mako is really the only person he uses his phone to talk to. Everyone else has no trouble seeking him out, but she’s the one he seeks out. He drags a hand through his hair as he talks to the other person, making arrangements to meet up while simultaneously thinking of just wiping the damn thing.
The bathroom door opens and he sees Mako looking at him. She’s sleep tousled, one strap of her tank top hanging off her shoulder. She gives him a questioning look and he points to her phone. She shakes her head and he gives a sheepish smile. It’s not the first time he’s lost a phone, not even since they met. One of the many reasons his is an old piece of shit instead of the technological marvel he’s holding to his ear.
He wraps up the conversation and places the phone back on the nightstand before pulling himself up to the top bunk. They don’t need to live in the shatterdome anymore, but leaving hasn’t crossed their minds. When he shows up with his few belongings one day says nothing, just makes room on her Jaeger wall for his pictures.
"Hey Mako?" he calls down to her, "what’s Koib—" he frowns, working to make his tongue wrap around the unfamiliar word.
"Do you mean Koibito?" she asks, her voice slipping into her native tongue easily.
"Yeah," he says, "what’s it mean?"
"it is a term someone uses to describe someone you love very much," she explains, her voice heavy with sleep.
For the first time he’s glad they’re on separate bunks so she can’t see the grin on his face. It isn’t like he doesn’t know how she feels when it comes to him, but so much has happened they’ve both made a silent agreement to take things slowly. This though makes him think he might have a tiny bit of catching up to do.
"Why?" Mako asks him after a moment of silence.
"I saw it earlier," he says, unwilling to lie but not wanting to embarrass her, "I didn’t recognize the characters."
"Kanji," she corrects.
"Kanji," he repeats back to her, trying not to let his smile give him away.
He hears her yawn and shifts on the bed, turning his face so he can see the foot hanging off the bed. she’s tiny, but when Mako wants to she can occupy a surprising amount of space. He knows she does in his head. He listens to her breathing steady out and closes his own eyes. He always waits a bit before slipping off, Mako’s night terrors come early and if he can wake her up quickly they sometimes aren’t as bad. But her breathing is even and steady and he feels himself drifting off.
"Ashiteru," he whispers.