Chapter Nine

Moments

Mizushima Kasumi’s Point of View

            After we splashed and waded in the water, we went our separate ways to change and wash up. Upon doing so, I changed into a cerulean, grass green, and white tie-dye T-shirt along with black Nike sport shorts. Since the T-shirt was too long and reached over my shorts, I tied it up slightly with my hair tie.

            “Hey, ready to go to the park?” I asked, after I had exited the women’s room.

            Nanase was already there and was resting upon a gate wall as he waited for me, “As I’ll ever be.”

            As we walked to the park, we conversed along the way about random topics and about each other. There was an endless amount of topics to be spoken, but the eerie silence made it too awkward to even say anything. Thoughts taking laps around my head as I finally comprehended them.

            “Was I talking too much?”

            “Was I being too open?”

            “Should I be more quiet and let him do some of the talking?”

            By now . . . we just observed the glittering stars that scattered the night sky. We were both swinging on the swings lightly as the constellations came into view. And, Kami, were they beautiful.

            Soon, the peculiar silence was left comfortably. It was tacitly understood . . . Nothing else was needed to say to imply such meaning . . . Clutching the chains of the swings a little tighter, I felt a soft, yet firm, hand envelop into mine.

            Nanase . . .

            I gazed into his deep, azure eyes . . . I could have sworn that they were like water itself. An endless ocean of wavering waters.

            It was now that I ultimately realized that . . .

            “I am in love with Nanase Haruka.”

Nanase Haruka’s Point of View

            At this point in time, I didn’t really know what to do. Should I speak and pick up a lasting conversation? Or should I continue to stand by and continue with the silence?

            Automatically, without my knowing it, I took her hand and covered it with mine. Her petite, gentle hand felt soft and tender . . . and it especially felt right in mine. We held hands and stared at the countless stars. They were glittering like diamonds in the sky. Don’t get my wrong, I know that phrase is said too often, but it is yet, again, the truth.

            With my empty left hand, I glanced at the watch on the wrist. It was nearing midnight, and there was still yet a lot to do, but it felt too . . . too . . . too . . . embarrassing to even complete.

            My face burned from a few thoughts that entered my head. As much as I wanted to tell her the truth of my love for her, and only her, I had no mental strength to do so. Was it really worth the risk? Should I wait a little longer? Or should I just get the confession off my chest?

            I inhaled and exhaled deeply. What should I do now?

Mizushima Kasumi’s Point of View

            “Shall we return to the dorms and talk there?” Nanase asked as he stepped off the swing, his hand still entwined with mine.

            “Sure, I suppose,” I replied as he helped me off the swing . . . though that really wasn’t necessary . . .

            A chilly breeze drifted through us as it continued its passage of travel. What really felt chilly about the moment was when Nanase let go of my hand. Everything around me suddenly felt colder and less warmth was evident. Why did he let go?

            My question was soon answered for he placed it around my waist, and I blushed madly. Thank, Kami, for my long hair, for if it weren’t there . . . I wouldn’t know what to say if he managed to notice.

            I then lay my head on his broad, well-defined chest and closed my eyes. This was how it should be, and this . . . was how I wanted it to be.

            The streetlights were radiant in the autumn’s night. Leaves were scattered throughout the avenues and boulevards, rustling a scraping clamor against the pitch-black roads. Overall, the entire line of blocks was empty. Lights were either dim or out. The only people on the streets . . . were the both of us—Nanase and me.

            Another sudden wave of wind passed me and made me shiver.

            “Are you cold?” he asked politely.

            I sneezed before replying, “Not really.”

            “That means you still are, no?” he stated the truth as he pulled me closer to him. “You’re almost back to the dorms so it’ll be fine.”

            “Do you do anything other than swim?” I asked out of the blue.

            He paused to think before answering, “I run . . . lift weights at seldom . . . but I mostly swim.”

            “Obviously,” I rolled my eyes playfully. “Why else would you be a pro swimmer?”

            “Quite true,” he stated monotonously, and I chuckled lightly.

            “Funny . . . Nanase,” I shook my head in quiet laughter.

            “I don’t even know what I did to make you feel so, actually,” he said, staring at me in confusion.

            “Truth be told, I don’t really know,” I blushed, embarrassed at my peculiar outbreak.

            “Exactly what I was thinking,” he said as we arrived at our destination. “We’re here.”

            “Clearly,” I sighed, as I pulled out the key to the door and unlocked it.

            “Tsk, true,” he remarked as he opened the unlocked door for me.

            “Arigato,” I mentioned before entering.

            “You’re welcome,” he replied as he shut the door. “In case you didn’t know yet, the boys and I will be staying here in the city for a bit longer to practice and run since this place is famous for its various recreation centers.”

            “Oh, okay,” I replied, giving a quick, friendly kiss on the cheek. “Good night.”

            “G-good night,” Nanase replied as I left him for sleep.

Nanase Haruka’s Point of View

            D-did . . . she . . . just do . . . what I thought she did?  A kiss on the cheek? No . . . it must be for friendship . . .

            At that . . . I returned to the dorm to sleep to my heart’s content, pondering . . . of what would happen if the kiss wasn’t for friendship . . .