Agrippa
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All Right! Fine! I Will Take You! – Chapter 36 – Haruno Doesn’t Go on Dates 4
🕑 Added 2022-05-05 19:04:38 +0000 UTCThe loose earth of one of Chiba Port Park’s sidepaths crunches beneath my square heels as the streetlights alternatively pour color and shadow over it.
And Shizuka’s by my side.
It’s a mild winter, and it will give way to spring soon enough, but it’s still night, and she’s only wearing that creamy shawl wrapped around her arms to shield her from the cold, and I…
I’m wearing my coat, the same one I realized hours ago is too near to her own, even if mine’s tan to her white one.
And…
And maybe she doesn’t know, doesn’t remember, but I do.
And so, just like she did all those years ago when she first lied to me, moments before she donned a mask that was the furthest thing from genuine I could stand, I take off my coat and drape it over the both of us, sharing our heat, giving mine to her like she did right before she broke my heart.
Like she had done ever since she met me, even if not at all in the same way.
“Thanks,” she whispers, looking down at me as our shoulders rub, and my arm goes around her back to have my hand rest on her waist, pulling her closer to me.
She smiles, and her cheeks darken prettily. Girlishly.
And I…
I still feel the resentment at the memory; maybe I’ll always will, but my heart still races, and…
And I’m almost sure it always will.
There hasn’t been any alcohol, not after dinner. We’ve just drifted through the night streets, wandering, and talking, and reminiscing, and sharing many more silences than I ever thought I would again be comfortable with.
We’ve just been… together.
So she doesn’t smell like tobacco, not today, and her scent isn’t mingled with beer or greasy, salty snacks. No, it’s just a tasteful, mild fragrance.
Lavender. The flower of purity and serenity.
Like my eyes.
I have to suppress a rueful smile at the realization that it’s been Iroha’s choice. It may even not be a coincidence, knowing what I know of the cunning little thing.
So this isn’t like that day, like that moment branded in my memory when I was once again denied not what I wanted, but what I needed. This isn’t like that day when I leaned up into the cloud of nightlife smells clinging to Shizuka, ignoring it all to reach for the lips of the woman I loved as she wrapped me in her coat, shielding me from the cold like she had been doing for years.
This isn’t like the time she pushed me away, tenderly and exquisitely breaking my heart.
But I still have those cracks, and, unlike Hachiman, I still lack the gold to cover them.
And… so does Shizuka.
It’s funny it took me this long to see.
I knew. On some level, I knew that no one behaves like she does unless hiding some great wound. I knew the words she threw at me were a lie, an excuse, something told to herself as much as to me.
But, even so, I still never managed to push past that first layer of realization. Because I didn’t want to.
Because I didn’t want to look back at myself desperately clinging to a kiss offered to someone too hurt to accept it. Because I refused to accept anything but her complete and absolute blame for the pain she inflicted on me.
Because I didn’t want to accept Shizuka, my Shizuka, was this hurt.
And that I hadn’t helped her.
So I guess that’s the difference between you and me, Hachiman. You saw, even if it took me dropping a few hints for you to do so, and then you pushed.
While I intuited… and fled.
“Haruno?” she asks, looking down at me after the silence has stretched too long.
I look up at her. At gray-blue eyes peering down at me through long eyelashes another hand has taken care of.
And I smile.
I cup her cheek in my hand like she did back then, with the same tender firmness, the same reassurance, the same offering of heat and comfort.
And when she closes her eyes for a brief moment as she leans into my touch, something in my chest soars.
She looks beautiful as yellow light casts half her face in inviting, soothing darkness. As her pink lips open just enough for me to catch a white glint behind them. As her neck stretches with the gesture, taut muscle offering me an inviting hollow to lick at.
All right: she looks beautiful and sexy.
My libido is still pretty much Shizuka-centric, after all.
Even if she now has two satellites.
But now’s not the time for lust. Now’s the time for me to…
To give her the kind of kiss I should’ve given her. If I had known. If I really was as insightful as I always claim to be.
So I lean up once again, my breasts brushing against hers as my left arm pulls her to me and my hand on her cheek keeps her at just the right angle, and my lips brush over hers.
Not demanding. Not clumsily pushing against someone whose rejection I was terrified of.
No. Shizuka has kissed me. Told me she loved me. Accepted me.
So… I don’t have gold for my own cracks. Maybe I’ll never will.
But… I hope I have some for hers.
So my hand rises on her back, my fingertips barely dragging on the soft, blue fabric of her dress until they reach bare, naked skin, and then the touch turns into ghostly caresses over every bump along her spine that barely disturbs the peach fuzz over it until I reach her nape.
And my palm remains on her cheek as my fingers carefully trace the edge of her ear, demurring in lazy, teasing circles over the spot behind her jawline until she opens her lips further with a barely audible whimper.
But I don’t rush in. I don’t let my tongue out to trace the open slit before diving to meet hers. No.
I lower my head just a tiny bit and catch her lip between my own, sucking on it, wetting it, massaging it until I feel her sag against me, and only then do I allow myself the privilege of licking Shizuka’s lip right as the hand on her nape goes over hair tightly wound into a high ponytail, and the fingers of both hands meet in tracing lines of fire over her skin as I pull her down to me.
Her arms surround me, hugging me to her body, our chests flattening against each other as my left thigh presses against her flared skirt until I feel the heat between her legs pass through the crinkly fabric, and then my head leans back as I drag her tighter against me and my tongue goes into her mouth.
And only when I feel her wet heat surround me, only when I taste her sweet saliva and feel her own tongue prod at mine, do I allow myself to show my true hunger, the yearning I’ve felt for her through years of loneliness and hurt.
There’s a slight breeze, a fresh thing that I only feel on my legs as the rest of me is tangled on Shizuka, but I welcome the cold it brings as I feel my skin go from warm to burning, as I feel the blood pounding in my ears in something that has lust, but also far too many other things.
I… It’s Shizuka. She’s with me.
And I burn.
I drag my tongue along her palate until I press right behind her teeth, and she shifts around me, her own softness far more evident in this dress rather than in the masculine vest she usually wears. And I want to let go of her mouth to kiss and bite at her neck, to trail my tongue along her clavicle until I reach the hollow of her throat, only to then dive deeper, to finally kiss between and around gorgeous, pale breasts whose cleavage I’ve only caught a hint of through our date.
I want to make Shizuka writhe in pleasure, moan my name. I want to brand her acceptance of me with climax after climax. I want to make this a night she’ll never forget, a night she won’t dare forget.
It’s what I want.
But not what I need.
So I lean away from soft, yielding lips, from eager kisses, from everything except warm, toned arms around me beneath our shared coat.
“Haruno?” she asks once again.
“I love you.”
The words come out unexpectedly, almost rushing, and I can only blame the knowledge she won’t throw them in my face anymore for it.
“I love you too,” she answers, a soft smile shining through the haze of everything else.
And I could answer it with a giddy smile or with another tearful outburst because both seem as likely.
But I just cup her cheek with my palm, melting a bit more when she, once again, leans into my touch.
“I won’t have sex with you. Not tonight,” I tell her.
Her eyebrows rise, and she looks around her.
“This park is fucking cursed, I swear,” she mutters, and I think she isn’t talking about years ago—
“Hachiman?” I ask, drawing the obvious conclusion.
And she sighs.
The hug is still soft, but she leans forward until her head is beside mine, her chin on the crook of my shoulder.
“He… He took me here after our date. And things were going… well, you can imagine, but then he just decided to swear he wouldn’t have sex until he took care of your sister.”
“… And the day after, he called me and set up the whole thing.” Because of course he did.
“I would say he was eager to get to the point, but… He actually needed Iroha and me to persuade him. He was set on taking care of you before, as well.”
And I chuckle.
“Oh? How forward of him—”
“Not like that.”
“I know, I know, but a girl can dream.” My lips are tugging at the corners, the half-grin he naturally brings out in me fighting to come through.
But… this isn’t about him. Or, rather, it’s about what he’s made possible.
“I’m guessing you still gave him something to remember the night by?” I prod.
And the tightening of her arms and sharp intake of breath should be answer enough.
“I… behind a tree, I just…”
“Shush, no need for details. It’s just I…”
“You?”
“I won’t be walking behind a tree with you. Not tonight. Though it certainly sounds like a fun thing to—”
“The last thing I need is another exhibitionist in my… whatever the Hell this is.”
I chuckle and lean back, my hand once more on her cheek as I make her look at me, and I delight in the soft blush I can see even with the play of light and shadow over the perfect canvas she’s always been.
She really should’ve been an actress. Not because she can act, but just because… I can’t imagine her on the screen and somebody looking away.
“I think the term is polycule. Or harem, if you want to be an otaku about it.”
She rolls her eyes at my words, but the blush doesn’t abate.
“I really don’t think we should be putting a label on this thing yet. It’s… too new.”
I look at her, at eyes that held me and put me back together long before I gave her the power to hurt me.
“I agree. And that’s why I’m going to escort you to the station and stop this with a good night kiss.”
And she looks back, looking into my eyes for something I think nobody else saw until a brash kid with more bullheadedness than sense barreled through my defenses to tell me he loved me, even if he didn’t know what that meant.
Her hands rise on my back, making me shiver at their passage until they reach my shoulders, and then she presses me against her and kisses my forehead with a tenderness I never knew I needed.
“I was always so proud of you…” she whispers.
And it takes me effort not to cry at that.
***
The streets are empty, both because of the time and the cold, and I huddle inside my coat as I hurry toward the apartment.
It’s not myapartment.
But… I don’t want to be alone. Not tonight. Not after telling Shizuka goodbye at the train station, with the unsaid promise to meet again and keep developing what this labelless thing between us is.
Between the fourof us. Because never let it be said Haruno Yukinoshita does things easily and straightforwardly.
Really, it’s about the only family tradition I care to uphold.
So I get the keys out and rush inside the elevator, thankful for the warmer air inside the building, and…
And when it reaches the right floor, and I open the door…
Yukino, my sister, wearily wakes up on her white sofa.
“Haruno…?” she starts to ask me something.
And, before she does, I close the door behind me and rush to her, kneeling by her side, and hugging the thin girl to me, her blue pajamas creaking against my coat.
I can feel the words coming up, the need to ask me whatever it is she was wondering about before she finally fell asleep while waiting for me.
Thankfully, she stops them, and I feel her slender arms go around me as I start shaking with uncontrolled… something.
“Did they… hurt you?” she asks, as delicately as she’s ever said anything.
I shake my head, denying the intent, even if not the effects.
She hums, a wordless something that I can easily picture Yui mumbling as tender fingers brush through long, black hair. And Yukino rocks me back and forth.
“They… I think they… They accepted me, Yukino,” I tell her, my throat tightening at the words.
And she pauses, her hand stopping in the middle of patting my hair.
Until, suddenly, her hold on me tightens, and she clutches my head possessively beneath her chin.
“I’m so glad… I’m so glad, sister,” she tells me.
And I believe her.
And that’s the last thing I need to start crying, the tears of far too many years finally washed out, pushed out, by something other than bitterness and loneliness.
Yet another thing to thank Hachiman for.
… I’m going to dehydrate him.
Comments
Agrippa
Thanks! As hard as Haruno may be to write at times, I've never been disappointed by the results.
Pope Yoda I
Another fantastic chapter. *chef's kiss*.
Agrippa
Thanks! I was mildly unsure about it changing the mood, but it really does fit her.
Zerak
Love that last line.
