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Shuichi wakes up on the morning of his birthday to over twenty messages from various friends and acquaintances. Most notably: a happy birthday message from Kaito that came in at exactly midnight with a photo of Cusco’s skyline (with a bit of green sticking out in the corner that Shuichi thinks is Rantaro), a simple Happy birthday, Saihara-kun from Kyoko, an extremely low-resolution picture of an elf from Kokichi, and a request to go out for dinner tonight from his uncle.
Even after checking the list three times, though, Shuichi fails to find what he’s looking for. At this point, there’s no reason why it should surprise him, but he can still feel disappointment cooling his insides. Just for posterity, he checks his missed calls, but… no, nothing.
Sighing, Shuichi puts his phone to the side and rolls over into the empty space left by his girlfriend, who is presumably already awake. He has the strong desire all of a sudden to go back to sleep, but he knows moping over this would be stupid when this is far from the first year it’s happened. Besides, it’s only just past ten in the morning. It’s possible that they got busy, or haven’t gotten around to it, or…
The bedroom door swings open with a force strong enough to send it crashing against the far wall. Shuichi jumps, cringes, and turns to face Kaede, who is standing in the doorway and looking similarly startled.
“Sorry!” Kaede exclaims. She holds a covered tray in her hands and her blonde hair is tied out of her face in a big, sloppy bun with a couple flyaway strands loose and framing her features. Flour is smeared across her left cheekbone and she looks mildly harassed in the way she always does after cooking, though that could also be in response to what she just did to the door. “I kicked it open, but I didn’t expect it to go that hard… I hope I didn’t wake you up by doing that, that’s not very romantic at all…”
Despite everything, Shuichi can’t help but laugh. He scoots back in bed and sits himself up, massaging a crick in his neck. “I was awake, Kaede. Don’t worry about it.” His eyes settle on the tray in his girlfriend’s hands. “Um, what’s that…?”
Well, he knows what it is. It’s breakfast. Kaede has surprised him with breakfast in bed for the past three birthdays they’ve been living together for, so it’s not like it’s even particularly ‘surprising’ at this juncture. Still, Shuichi asks, mainly because it looks like Kaede has actually cooked this time, something that she’s previously refrained from doing as she’s miserable in the kitchen and, by her own admission, doesn’t want to start off Shuichi’s special day with crappy burnt food.
Shuichi doesn’t smell anything burning, though, and Kaede is beaming as she makes her way over to take a seat on the side of the bed. She places her tray in Shuichi’s lap, and after Shuichi has shifted to balance it, removes the cover. Neatly plated in front of him are three incredibly thick buttermilk pancakes topped with strawberry syrup and powdered sugar, as well as a bowl of omurice. The omelette is slightly broken, but Kaede has clearly put a lot of elbow grease into the aesthetics, because the ketchup squiggle on tip is neatly placed. There are small hearts drawn all over the egg witch ketchup as well.
The meal is accompanied by, naturally, a steaming mug of black coffee and a glass of ice water, but Shuichi ignores the both of them in favour of marvelling at the quality of the meal, glancing between Kaede and the tray.
“You really made all of this…?” Shuichi questions, lifting one of the sets of chopsticks Kaede laid out. (She placed two, likely anticipating that Shuichi won’t have the appetite to finish this whole meal on his own.)
“What, you don’t believe I could make something that looks this nice?” Kaede huffs.
“I-I didn’t say that, just—”
Kaede giggles, nudging Shuichi’s shoulder with her own. “I know, I know. I’m just teasing you.” She grins. “Yeah! I’ve been practising in secret every time you’ve been out of the house. I had Kaito and Toujou-san help me.” She picks up her own chopsticks, twirling deftly. “Do you like it? I know you haven’t actually tasted it yet, and it could be totally horrible, but at least I made everything look pretty, right?”
They’ve been living together for years and dating for even longer than that, but the expectant smile on Kaede’s face still manages to make Shuichi’s stomach flip. He lifts his free hand and cups Kaede’s cheek, wiping away the flour smear and letting his hand linger there long enough for Kaede to lean into the touch. It’s a marvel to him, in all moments but especially the ones like these, that he somehow managed to earn the affections of a woman like Kaede, who has only ever made his life better.
He leans over to kiss the bridge of her nose, then leans back, taking his hand away in favour of steadying the tray with it as he preps his chopsticks to eat.
“It looks perfect,” Shuichi says earnestly. “Thank you, Kaede. It means a lot to me that you’re willing to wake up so early to cook for me.”
At that, Kaede lets out another giggle. She swings her legs back into bed, apron and all, and scoots over until her side is pressed up against Shuichi’s. She drags the tray over to rest in her own lap, picking up her chopsticks to start eating.
As she does, she says, “You do the cooking for us all the time, you know? This is the least I can do. Besides, it’s your birthday! I don’t want you to do a single chore today.” She breaks off a piece of the top pancake, tongue poking out as she carefully brings it up to her mouth. There’s probably more that she wants to say after that, but she clearly didn’t plan it out very well, because now she’s chewing and Shuichi knows that Kaede on principle rejects the notion of talking with her mouth full. A slight pout comes onto her face, and Shuichi has to laugh, kissing her on the cheek before he starts to tear off a piece of pancake for himself.
“I don’t view it as work. I like cooking for you,” Shuichi points out, but he doesn’t argue the point further. Truthfully, he likes it when Kaede pampers him like this. Not an excessive amount—he’d probably get antsy if she insisted on treating him this way all the time—but every so often, it’s nice to just relax and let himself be taken care of, knowing he’ll get to do the same for her when March rolls around.
Shuichi cups a hand under his mouth to catch any crumbs that come off his bite of pancake but quickly forgets about it when he’s eaten it. It’s luxuriously fluffy and light, not too greasy and not too sweet, either. The strawberry syrup adds an excellent tartness that he’s never had before on pancakes and he really likes it. Maple syrup can often be too sweet for him, a complaint he’s voiced to Kaede more than once, so… it’s likely that this was done intentionally. While he chews, he turns to his girlfriend, offering her a closed-mouth grin and a warm look to convey that he’s pleased.
The two eat in quiet for a while. The omurice is similarly well done, quite the feat—even with the tear—considering the amount of technical skill required in its assembly, and by the time Shuichi’s chopsticks are scraping against the bottom of the bowl and his coffee is drained, he’s feeling pleasantly warm and satisfied, practically boneless against Kaede’s shoulder.
Of course, without the distraction of food or conversation, (as Kaede seems content to let the silence settle for a while, a satisfied smile on her face as she surveys the empty dishes) Shuichi’s thoughts begin to wander again. Instinctively, he reaches for his phone, tabbing into his messages. He’s received a few others—from Gonta, from Himiko, from Kirumi—but still, the text that he’s looking for hasn’t arrived. He again checks his missed calls, and even his voicemail inbox, but there’s nothing new. Just the same old voicemails that he already listened to a couple days ago and the same logs of calls he missed from various scammers.
Shuichi tries not to let his disappointment show on his face as he hits the power button and puts his phone to the side, but from the weight of Kaede’s gaze on him, he knows it’s futile.
“Nothing from your parents?” Kaede guesses, too good at reading him as always. Shuichi winces and turns his head away, disappointment and shame warring in his chest.
“No,” Shuichi confirms. “But I shouldn’t be surprised. They were late last year, too… and it isn’t the seventh yet in America, either, so it’s possible that they just haven’t realised the date yet.” It’s the same tired excuse he gives every year, and he can tell that Kaede is thinking the same thing. Her brows draw together and her lips press into a line, but she doesn’t contradict him, moving the tray out of their laps and turning so that they’re facing one another.
One of her soft hands comes up to cup Shuichi’s cheek. “You know it’s okay to be upset about it, right?” she asks gently. “It’s okay to be disappointed or angry at them… and it’s okay if you wish they would remember without having to be told. There’s nothing shameful about wanting your parents to care.”
That may be true at least logically, but Shuichi has a difficult time applying it to himself in practice. Still, Kaede is right, and her words don’t make him feel worse, so Shuichi tries to find a smile as he looks up at her.
“I know,” he says, and he does. “It’s… ah. It’s not something I should be dwelling on today, right? You probably had plans for us.”
Kaede’s lips purse. “There’s a difference between dwelling and letting yourself be upset,” she points out. “And it’d be okay if you did dwell. At least a little bit.” When Shuichi doesn’t acquiesce, though, she just sighs, shaking her head. “I did have plans, if you’re up for them. I was thinking we could have a slow morning and then head out to that new bookstore that opened up downtown? I bought you some surprise presents, but I always feel weird buying you books without knowing if you’ll like them, you know? So you could choose a couple you like, we can grab lunch, and then we can go to the park for a while until the evening. Your uncle probably wants to do dinner again this year, right?”
While Kaede talks, Shuichi nods along, pushing thoughts of his parents aside. “Right, I should respond to that text.” His hand creeps towards his phone, but before he picks it up, he affirms, “That all sounds really nice, Kaede. I’d like that.”
“Great!” Kaede plants a kiss on his cheek and slips out of bed, picking up the tray. “I’ll go tidy up while you get ready, okay? Take your time!” She frowns, eyes darting out in the direction of the kitchen. “Really take your time. There’s, um, no rush, haha.” With that, and a slightly shifty look, Kaede slips out the door.
Shuichi laughs to himself as he watches her leave, shaking his head. It’s not long before the disappointment and frustration from before start to creep in again, but he ignores them in favour of getting up, stretching to get out a few of the kinks in his back and going for his dresser. If the mess out there is that bad, he might go out and offer Kaede his company if she won’t accept his help in cleaning, but he should at least get dressed first.
The downtown bookstore is a large, bustling shop with three floors and rows upon rows of shiny new books. It lacks the charming cosiness of the smaller, used bookstore just a few blocks away from Shuichi and Kaede’s apartment, but there is something breathtaking about the sight of so many books crammed into one location. A worker greets them on their way in, offers assistance if needed, and while Kaede inquires as to the location of the mystery section, Shuichi wanders towards the directory, running his fingers along the braille printed under the title of each subsection.
It’s been a long while since Shuichi has been in a bookstore this grand. Again, he mostly just goes to the used bookstore near his apartment, but if they’re ever lacking something he wants to read, he just looks for it online. He knows it’s lazy, and there’s something about buying from a bookstore that simply can’t be imitated through online shopping, but he and Kaede are just too busy to make trips out into the city like this more than once or twice a month.
When Kaede has finished with the store clerk, she snags Shuichi’s arm on her way towards the stairs. She leads them up to the second floor and weaves her way expertly between shelves, as though she’s been coming here all her life. Shuichi vaguely knows from the directory that they’re going in the right direction, but Kaede moves with such certainty that he pays more attention to the displays they pass and less to where they’re going, trusting that she knows where she’s leading them.
Every section in this bookstore is decorated thematically. The sci-fi section, which they passed, had neon lights lining the tops and bottoms of shelves, imitation light sabers and space ships hanging from the ceiling. The children’s section has various children’s literature icons situated about the space—the Velveteen Rabbit, Whinnie the Pooh, even Hello Kitty, who could hardly be called an icon of literature but nonetheless—in a sweet, welcoming display.
The mystery section, similarly, is all dim lighting and old, antique furniture. Plaid armchairs are arranged around a low, polished oak table with a cigar figurine resting on it. Various shelves are “roped off” with crime scene tape and there are curious looking stains decorating the carpet. It’s almost distasteful. Shuichi makes his way over to a shelf and pokes between books, lower lip jutted out as he bypasses novels that he’s already read and that don’t particularly interest him.
“If a murder did actually occur here, it would be easy to cover up,” Shuichi points out. He removes a Holmes novel— The Valley of Fear, it’s a classic so of course he’s read it but he doesn’t think he actually owns it—and turns it over in his hands. “Look at the staining on the carpet and furniture… someone could easily disguise real bloodstains among those.”
Kaede frowns, looking as though she’d like to call Shuichi out on being morbid, but eventually just says, “How do you know there aren’t any real bloodstains there already?”
“Ah…” Shuichi’s nose wrinkles. He can’t help but glance over his shoulder again, curious despite himself. “Well… I suppose I don’t. But the store has only been open for a few days, and the carpet and furniture seem crisp enough not to have been through a deep clean yet, so… probably not?”
“Reassuring,” Kaede giggles. She loops her arm through Shuichi’s and leans her cheek into his shoulder. Shuichi shifts his position so that she can read the cover of the book he’s studying. “Haven’t you already read all the Holmes books?”
“Most of them,” Shuichi corrects. “There are a few short stories I haven’t gotten to… though, ah. You’re right that I’ve read this one.” He turns it over in his hands again, scanning the blurb. “I might ask for this one anyway, though… I don’t think I own it yet, and it would be nice to read again without having to pirate it…” Shuichi just doesn’t feel right buying online when it’s a book he’s already read. He’s never verbalised this to Kaede before, but she seems to understand regardless, because she nods.
“It’s your birthday. Pick whatever you want, okay?” She smiles up at him, plum eyes warm and affectionate, and Shuichi smiles back, leaning to kiss her on the forehead.
He won’t pick up too many books. Given that this is a new bookstore and all of these novels are fresh off the printer, they’re bound to be more expensive than what he could pick up at the shop near their apartment, and even though Kaede does make a pretty hefty salary as a world-famous pianist, she’s already bought him a few gifts; the last thing Shuichi wants is to be greedy. Of course, Kaede would never call him as much, and Shuichi really doubts that he would go overboard, even without that reservation, it’s just… Kaede is naturally giving. She always has been. Shuichi would rather take too little than too much.
They wander the store for a while after that, admiring the vast array of thematic displays and chatting about the plots of a few books. Eventually, Shuichi settles on a second and third book; another mystery story that he’s been meaning to read as well as a music themed romance novel that Kaede insists he check out. After purchasing, they visit the café on the third floor and discover that the scones are roughly a 3.5 out of ten in quality—Kaede gives a three, Shuichi insists that she’s being too mean and gives a four, they decide to compromise—and that the coffee isn’t much better.
All in all, a successful outing. The two leave the shop a few hours later with the bag of books hanging from Kaede’s wrist as she swings their joint hands back and forth. She leads them through hoards of sidewalk traffic while Shuichi scans restaurant listings online. He’s still a bit full from breakfast (and his mediocre scone) so it’s hard to find places that look appealing right now, but he’s debating the merits of two teriyaki places when his phone vibrates with a text notification that comes in too quickly for him to see who it’s from.
Shuichi’s heart rate spikes. He taps the notification. It’s a happy birthday text from Maki. Or, well, that’s the implication; Maki has actually just sent a single birthday cake emoji followed by a period. Nonetheless, the results are the same. Shuichi sighs, sending a thumbs up in reply and guiltily ignoring the pang that comes with it.
He should be happy to get a happy birthday message from Maki. From all his friends, really. What’s wrong with him that he isn’t, that he’s still waiting on approval from people who have never cared about him?
The self-deprecating thoughts fade back into white noise with a squeeze from Kaede’s hand. When Shuichi glances over, he sees that she’s looking at him with a furrowed brow and a small frown.
“S-Sorry,” Shuichi manages. He shoves his phone away. “Um, were you saying something? There’s a teriyaki place just a couple blocks from here that looks good.”
“It wasn’t them again, huh?” Kaede asks. Shuichi glances away. Even at a time like this, Shuichi appreciates that Kaede never lets him deflect about his feelings, but his stomach still clenches with more guilt at the question. This is supposed to be a fun outing. Shuichi should be having fun, so that Kaede can be having fun. She doesn’t deserve to deal with his complicated parent feelings when they’re meant to be enjoying their time together.
Still, Shuichi shakes his head. “It was Maki. Really, I’m surprised that she texted me at all. She hasn’t replied to my texts in months.” She reads all of them, though. Naturally.
Kaede offers a smile, albeit a sad one. “I’m glad she texted,” she says, sounding sincere. She squeezes Shuichi’s hand again. “Teriyaki, huh? Let’s do it. Maybe we can share a meal since we had such a big breakfast.”
Given that Shuichi hates to waste food, and that he and Kaede generally have pretty similar tastes in savoury food, that sounds like a pretty wise idea. Thus, Shuichi nods, and Kaede allows him to lead them the three remaining blocks down to the restaurant.
It’s a smaller, busier establishment than the bookshop was. The smell of teriyaki sauce is immediately overpowering when they step inside and there are a number of families seated by the front door, as well as a couple waiting by the front counter to enter. Shuichi glances at the one on the left, watches the father lean across the table to wipe sauce off his son’s cheek, and then looks away, glaring at the tiles. It would be really, utterly, pathetically miserable if he resented a child for having attentive parents, right? A fucking toddler. Shuichi shakes his head to clear the thoughts and inconvenient feelings and steps into line with Kaede.
The two of them order salmon teriyaki with a side of potstickers and take one of the few remaining empty tables. It’s rather close to the kitchen, with servers coming and going frequently, which is perhaps why the table wasn’t taken before. Still, it’s not a bad place to sit. Shuichi laces his fingers together on the table—habitually keeping his elbows off—and watches the staff go in and out, trays balanced expertly on flattened palms and bent elbows, the smell of freshly cooked food following them everywhere they go.
Shuichi has been to his fair share of restaurants, obviously. Almost every meal he remembers eating with his parents was at one. As he grew older, visits from his parents grew fewer and further between, but he still has memories of a couple dinner trips with them during his late high school years. The food was always excellent, but Shuichi remembers guilt twisting his stomach with every expensive bite, always wondering if he was talking too much or not enough, if what he’d ordered was too pricy or not pricy enough, if his parents wanted to be there or if they invited him out out of a sense of obligation.
The last time he saw them in person was his seventeenth birthday, in fact. They’d been in Japan by coincidence, planning on visiting their hometown for a biographical documentary of their lives (that conveniently did not mention Shuichi), but the two of them had found time in their schedules to slot in a dinner with their son. The entire meal had been awkward, full of forced conversation and averted eye contact. By the end of it, Shuichi remembers wanting nothing more than to break away and go home to his aunt and uncle, who, for all their faults, had always left Shuichi feeling like he was loved, and yet his heart had still ached with longing when his parents dropped him off back home at the end of the night.
Mmmmmm. Shuichi shakes his head. What is he doing? He has his kind, beautiful girlfriend sitting right across from him in a restaurant with good-smelling food on a nice, late summer day, and he’s moping about something that happened years ago. He rubs his temples and focuses in on Kaede again, only to find that her gaze is already on him, softened with concern.
“Hi,” Shuichi says. His voice sounds breathless to his own ears. “I’m sorry, I was just…”
“Thinking? It’s okay,” Kaede replies. She leans forward, apparently lacking Shuichi’s care about table manners, and plops her elbows down on the table as she takes Shuichi’s hands in hers. Turns them over and runs her thumbs over his open palms. “I’d be really upset about it too, you know… I know you’re beating yourself up for it, because you’d like to just get over it, but really, if one of my dads forgot my birthday? I’d be super mad. I can’t imagine even being used to it.”
Shuichi glances away. “Right, but…” What he’s going to say is, You aren’t the kind of person whose birthday people forget, but he realises Kaede would probably rebuke that kind of statement, so he shakes his head. Even to his own ears, it sounds ridiculously self-deprecating and not like the kind of energy he wants to bring into his birthday. “It just isn’t how I want to spend today,” he says instead. “You’re right here, we’re having fun… I should be focusing on that, and what I am doing, not on what I’m not.”
“I won’t complain about that!” Kaede chirps. She squeezes Shuichi’s hands. “Just be nice to yourself, okay? I feel like the stuff will stop popping into your head randomly if you just stop trying to repress it.”
She might have a point with that—Kaede has a point with most things—but before Shuichi can grant her as much, a server arrives with their dish. He retracts his hands, glancing up at the worker and offering a grateful smile. Kaede, in turn, thanks them cheerfully before she breaks apart her chopsticks.
Even sharing a plate, the two of them are so full from their breakfast-and-shitty-scone combo that they barely manage to finish. Finish being a strong descriptor anyway considering that there’s still a good deal of rice left when they decide to call it quits. Remembering an old story his aunt used to tell him about what happens to you if you don’t finish your rice, Shuichi asks for a box for it and pointedly ignores the laughter in Kaede’s gaze. She just doesn’t get it. Her dads never told her those kinds of folk legends.
After paying, the two of them leave the restaurant and return to wandering downtown. This time, Kaede brings her phone out to look for parks nearby, so Shuichi takes charge of paying attention to their surroundings, his grip on Kaede’s hand more proactive and his eyes narrowed with concentration. It’s probably more intensity than he’d usually give a walk, but with Kaede here and relatively zoned out, Shuichi wants to take it seriously. He doesn’t even think to check his phone when it vibrates as they walk, focused as he is on keeping a hold on their surroundings.
Eventually, Kaede tugs on his arm. “Okay! I found a spot that looks pretty nice just… eight blocks from here!” Her eyes narrow as she zooms in on the map. “I think… maybe nine blocks? I can’t tell if that’s a new block or not…”
A chuckle rises in Shuichi’s throat. “Eight or nine isn’t a horrible amount of blocks to walk,” he reassures her. “Lead the way.”
Kaede nods, a determined glint in her eye. She tightens her own grip on Shuichi’s hand and pulls him along, walking with the same steadfastness as she did in the bookstore. It’s a quality that Shuichi can’t help but admire in her every time she pulls it out. Even as it pertains to the simplest of tasks, like cleaning their kitchen after breakfast or finding the mystery section in a bookstore, Kaede treats what she does like it’s important, like she’s going to put her all in it no matter how big or small the results will be. It’s just nice to see. Shuichi has spent so much of his life terrified to put his all into things… Kaede’s taught him so much, just by being herself.
They reach the park without much trouble. It’s one of those small patches of green that can barely be called a park at all, but there are a couple benches and a swingset, so Shuichi supposes it counts. He watches Kaede look between a bench and the swings and can practically see her making the calculations before she pulls on his arm and leads him over towards the swingset. A smile fights its way onto his face, and Shuichi doesn’t bother trying to stop it, chest filling with warmth as he watches his girlfriend drop into a swing and kick off from the woodchips.
Shuichi follows suit, lowering himself onto the rubber and curling his fingers around the chains, but he doesn’t bother swinging like Kaede does, instead opting to watch her go back and forth, blonde hair fluttering behind her. She eventually seems to grow tired of the activity, because she stops moving her legs, slowly allowing the swing to lose momentum and slow her to a stop. Her face is flushed when her heels finally skim the ground, a breathless grin on her face, but she doesn’t give Shuichi much time to appreciate it, immediately digging into her pocket for something.
“Your other gift is back home on my piano,” Kaede explains. “But I figured this is a pretty good time to give you this one… got it!” She lifts her head, withdrawing her hand from her pocket and holding out a small black box. It’s a little bigger than a ring box, but Shuichi isn’t expecting that, anyway. They’ve talked about marriage enough times for Shuichi to know that Kaede really wants him to be the one to propose.
(He’s been planning it. For months, actually. Kaede is the love of his life and not someone he ever wants to half-ass things for. Still, that’s not going to be for a little while yet.)
Gingerly, Shuichi accepts the box and rests it in his palm, feeling the weight of it. It’s obviously some kind of jewellery, given the container, but what exactly it is, Shuichi can’t tell from the outside.
Upon opening it, the first thing Shuichi sees is a deep, sparkling blue that catches in the sunlight. The stone is clearly sapphire—his birthstone—but that isn’t particularly what catches his eye. The sapphire pendant has a polished silver backing and is fanned on either side with glittering aquamarine stones, a paler, prettier blue that makes Shuichi smile to himself. Kaede’s birthstone. It’s evidently a delicately crafted necklace, given how sturdy yet elegant the chain appears to be, and when Shuichi lifts the sapphire pendant from the box, feels its heft in his hand… it’s weighty. Not so much that it would be uncomfortable to wear, but this is a decently big stone.
“Kaede…” Shuichi looks up at her, takes in the anticipation in her features and breaks into a wider smile. “It’s lovely… where did you find something with both of our birthstones?”
“Umm, well…” Kaede pinks, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and glancing away. “Actually, I had it custom made… I was talking to Rantaro about all the nice jewellery he manages to find and he recommended me a really good jeweller, so… I had to, you know?” She perks up. “But actually, I got one for me, too!” She lifts her scarf and reaches into her shirt, pulling out a necklace that Shuichi hadn’t even noticed she was wearing. It’s quite similar to Shuichi’s, but the inverse; a large aquamarine stone with sapphires glimmering on the outsides. The necklace was already a thoughtful gift—Shuichi loves jewellery but can never justify buying it for himself—but knowing that Kaede has one to match makes his heart flutter.
“I love it,” Shuichi says, before Kaede can ask. He snaps the box shut so he won’t damage the necklace and leans over, capturing Kaede’s lips in a quick kiss. “Thank you. Really, this is incredibly thoughtful. Um, should I put it on right now?”
Kaede nods. “Yeah!” Her face is still a bit red, perhaps even redder after the kiss—which Shuichi is going to chalk up to her already being embarrassed, given that they’ve been dating for seven years—but she still manages a wide and genuine smile for Shuichi. “I’ll help you, give me the box and turn around, okay?”
Nodding, Shuichi does so, digging his heels into the woodchips and turning so that Kaede has access to his neck. He uses one hand to pull his hair out of the way while the other rests against his leg, fingers brushing his phone.
Hmmm. His phone did vibrate earlier, didn’t it? Could it have been one of his parents…? While Kaede brings the necklace around his front, Shuichi stares down at his pocket, wondering if he should check.
Kaede’s dextrous fingertips brush against the back of Shuichi’s neck, expertly redoing the clasp and letting the necklace settle into place. It rests right over his heart. Shuichi takes his hand away from his pocket and decides to check later, allowing the swing to twist back around so that he can face his girlfriend.
“Hey,” Shuichi says. “I bet I can swing higher than you.”
At the challenge, Kaede’s eyes widen slightly. “Shuichi, I love you, and it’s your birthday, and I want today to be a really good day for you… but there’s no way you can beat me at swinging.”
Shuichi laughs. “Ah, really? I guess we’ll have to see!” He doesn’t pause after that, taking his swing backwards, going onto his toes, and then kicking off the ground, his legs straightened as he shoots forward. Kaede lets out an indignant yelp, complaining that he got a head start, but quickly starts swinging herself, reaching across the gap to lightly push at his shoulder whenever they pass one another.
The gesture only makes Shuichi laugh harder, even though it’s technically cheating and he should call her out on it. Really, just getting to see Kaede’s eyes sparkle with laughter, with the competition, is enough to make Shuichi’s heart soar just as much as the rest of him does on every back and forth on his swing.
Maybe his parents will remember. Maybe they won’t. Shuichi will check his text messages later and deal with whatever complicated emotions crop up with them then. But Kaede is here now, and today is a good day. Shuichi doesn’t see a point in dwelling on the people who don’t care about him when he could be appreciating the people who do.
And if he leans off his swing in an unquestionably idiotic manuever in an attempt at kissing Kaede on their next pass, well, that’s just a part of the contest. He’s just trying to sabotage her swinging. Anyone would do the same, Shuichi is sure, if Kaede was their girlfriend.