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“Kohaaaane!” An starts running towards her, when she spots Kohane literally jump in place, she decides to hold off of the tackle hug, skidding to a full stop right before her.
For just a few moments, Kohane looks at her in turn with these big eyes, an expression that An’s been seeing more lately, similar to one of the first An had ever seen on her, something unsure, and so utterly lost, as if she no longer had any idea what to do with herself. She then very literally snaps herself into action.
“H-hi An-chan!” Kohane greets with a too wide smile and all the visible tension of a chihuahua. Her eyes dart everywhere over An, behind her, the wall beside them, and everything else inbetween.
On second thought, cancel the order on all hugs in general, Kohane seems particularly wound up today.
An plants her hands in her pockets to control the urge, and leans her weight on a foot casually enough.
“How’re you doing today?” She tests.
Kohane doesn’t miss a beat in responding:
“Questionable, what about you?”
It’s probably a bad sign that An doesn’t even feel herself bat an eye.
“Good, good.” She stomps down the instinct to ask further in concern. Well aware that she’s not getting an actual answer if she tries. “Soooo… where’s this awesome place you just had to show me at?”
“Ah, it’s just around the corner from here,” Kohane says, acting as if she’s gearing herself up. “I just—” she clears her throat before beginning to walk while twirling her jacket’s hem. An follows. “I immediately thought of you when I first walked in, so I hope you like it…”
Hm, that line seems really well rehearsed.
“I’m sure I’ll love it,” An reassures, gently resting a hand on her shoulder. She’s allowed this much, right? “Kohane’s got the best taste after all!”
Thankfully, Kohane seems to relax a notch at that, and her smile becomes more shy, but sincere.
“You compliment me too much, An-chan…”
An grins, somewhat relieved.
“It’s only fact.”
They head to a peppy milkshake place, and An’s gotta say she’s definitely vibing with the groovy aesthetic. Kohane really doesn’t miss with these kinds of things, not that An ever doubted her for a second.
They settle themselves at a table and order normally enough, and their conversation would have been be just as standard if it weren’t painfully obvious that Kohane’s itching to say, or ask, something in particular. It’s obvious in the way her breath hitches and her mouth unsurely opens before snapping shut.
The shakes come, and An polishes hers off in record time in the bursts of expectant silence that grow more frequent between them.
The morbidly obese elephant at their table continues to sit unbothered.
An, who’s now been conditioned to barely acknowledge it, just goes on to ask about menial things that Kohane doesn’t seem to struggle to answer about. And oh, how An talks about her day and just about everything under the sun. Kohane’s always been her favorite and most captivated listener, but seriously, today it’s more obvious than ever that she’s stuck in her own head, and all An can do is wait and hope that Kohane eventually decides to let her back in, even if it’s for a moment.
It’s alright if it’s not today, or tomorrow, or even the day after that, so long as there’s the chance, so long as she has Kohane—
“An-chan,” Kohane seems more set in herself as she speaks. “Do you..?” She quickly trails off as An tucks a wayward strand of blonde hair behind her ear for her.
“Do I what?” An gently prods, inwardly cursing herself for her instinctive habits.
Kohane stares at her with that same expression she had earlier, the one that after further consideration, actually makes An mostly think of a lost fawn in the midst of a dense forest. Though it should be said that if Kohane were actually a fawn in that situation, An would make sure take her into her arms and tell her that everything’s going to be okay and—
“Uhm—” Kohane emits, blinking rapidly as she visibly tries to find her lost line of thought. When she does, her cheeks go pink and she looks at her milkshake. “Nothing,” she says.
“Hm,” An ponders is she should try her luck in pressing it, she really has been doing that a lot. She ultimately decides to let it be, another thing she’s probably been doing too much of. However, above all, she refuses to make Kohane more uncomfortable than she already clearly is. “Okay then.” She points at her milkshake instead. The one Kohane had drunk about half of and used as a fidget toy since. “You gonna finish that?”
Kohane just looks at her for a long moment, flushes a little deeper, then shakes her head no.
“You can have it if you want.”
An doesn’t wait for her to possibly change her mind. Swiping the plastic cup closer to her, she holds the straw with two fingers and takes a mighty sip of a drink sugary enough to send even their metaphorical elephant into cardiac arrest. She internally cringes, but makes sure to keep her expression neutral enough to avoid potentially offending Kohane. She’s the one who asked for it after all—
“I really like you, An-chan,” she suddenly says.
An nearly chokes on the straw. Kohane doesn’t usually make a habit of outwardly vocalizing her affection like this— Not that it’s in any way unwelcome! It’s just usually An herself who initiates. She swiftly looks at her, curious.
“Well, I really like you too, Kohane,” she reciprocates, not at all displeased. “But can I ask where this is coming from?”
“I’d prefer if you didn’t.”
“Okay.”
A few more beats pass—
“I really like you,” Kohane, just as spontaneously, repeats. “A lot.” She pauses. “A bit more than a lot.” It’s after that declaration that she nods to herself, satisfied.
An cocks her head. Thinks for a moment, she has absolutely no clue what this is supposed to be, but…
“Well, I really like you a lot.” She replies. “A lot more than a lot,” she adds as an afterthought, successfully one upping her.
Kohane blinks, startled. She stares at An for a few moments.
“… I really like you a lot more than that,” she slowly says.
An turns her body towards her.
“And I really, really, really, like you a lot more than that.”
Kohane gasps, a mix between flustered and affronted, probably about to complain about the word stacking. She opens her mouth, before shutting it and clenching her hands on her knees, taking a deep breath.
“Well, I really, really, really, really, really, like you, An-chan.” Each repetition serves as the equivalent of an arrow to An’s long pierced heart.
“That was adorable,” An just plainly says. She can’t help it, she has to say it like she sees it.
Kohane, predictably enough, flusters more at this, though she still holds An’s eyes. A small spark flickers in them, one that’s almost daring An to top that.
An toothily smiles, she has no problem doing so. She slides her arm onto the table with nonchalance, holding the side of her head up with a hand, she takes in Kohane’s demeanour a final time before speaking.
“I love you,” she simply responds.
Interestingly enough, Kohane doesn’t look surprised with the escalation, not that she should be, considering it’s not the first time that An has said those words to her and it certainly won’t be the last. But, the way Kohane’s lips purse tell her that she’s instead feeling especially anxious, or maybe more apprehensive about the words. It doesn’t counteract the flattered blush she has, though.
An watches as Kohane clutches the hem of her shirt in a white knuckled grip.
Watches as she bites her bottom lip.
Watches her begin and end a certain vowel multiple times.
She watches a little more before taking another sip of the overly sugary drink to wash away the slightly sour taste in her mouth.
“You don’t need to force yourself,” An tells her.
“I’m sorry,” Kohane replies, deflated.
“It’s fine,” An tells her, exaggerating the amused uptick to her tone. “I don’t mind.”
Kohane looks at her, and this time, it’s An that feels like she’s being thoroughly watched.
“I want to,” Kohane quietly admits. “But I don’t want to be dishonest, either, An-chan.”
An mulls that one over for all of three seconds before giving up.
She taps her fingers on the table and leans slightly closer.
“If you want to, why would it be dishonest if you said it?” She asks, it’s too much of an enigma. “Would you not mean it?”
“I…” Kohane swallows. “I would mean it.” She looks at An for a moment more before retreating her gaze to her knees. “And that’s the problem.” She mutters, so quietly that An’s sure she wasn’t meant to hear.
An knows better than to touch an exposed nerve, so she prepares to retreat, slightly scooting back—
Kohane grabs one of her hands in between her own. “I,” she continues in a normal volume, more determined. “I meant everything I said before, though.”
An wades in those words, they’re already comforting in their warmth, but An can’t help the part of her that wants just a little more, to drown, or burn in them, maybe both at once. She can’t help but be a bit of a glutton for Kohane’s attention.
“What you said before?” She softly asks, feigning obliviousness. It’s already crystal clear to both of them, but she can still fish in those shallow waters nonetheless. “I think I might’ve forgotten.” She grins. “Whoops.”
“A-are you really going to make me say it again?” Kohane asks in something edging on a whine. It’s too precious, and An’s hapless to the way it makes her want to cater to her every whim.
Unfortunately, An’s a little too selfish to let her be on this one.
“Well, the drink’s too cold, it might be doing things to my brain.” An takes a long sip for emphasis. She instantly regrets it but show no sign of it in favor of raising her brows. “I think I need a refresher.”
Kohane gapes at her in a flavor of shyness with a dash of indignation.
“It’s not that cold,” she unsteadily replies.
“Maybe to you.” An feels herself smiling a little lopsidedly as she twirls the straw.
Kohane snaps her mouth and eyes shut as she sighs, and An just knows she’s won.
“I…” Kohane looks her right in the eyes as she speaks. “Really, really, really, really, really like you, An-chan.”
It’s no less heart wrenchingly cute the second time, and so affected is An by this, that she forgets her earlier self imposed rule and glomps her on instinct.
It starts off well and dandy. Kohane’s giggling, as she normally would in response, though An slowly begins to notice that it’s steadily growing a little frantic.
“Eheheh, An-chan,” Kohane then starts either vibrating or shaking, both being relatively concerning. “Uhm, ah, okay, that’s—”
An pulls away to look at her in blatant concern, Kohane continues to violently fidget in place, her face redder than ever, as if she had just swallowed a whole bowl of chili peppers.
They hold eye contact for a whopping four seconds.
“I’m sorry!” Kohane half shrieks as she slams a couple yen on the table. “I’ll get better at it! I promise!” She near shouts as she promptly stands up and bolts full speed out of the cafe.
“Okay,” An, casually enough, says to thin air. “Bye Kohane.”
Other people nearby in the cafe look at the door strangely, then move their attention to her momentarily, before returning to their own business.
An decides, after some contemplation, to finish the milkshake off.
It still tastes overly sweet.