1"Who are you?"
Is the first question that rings inside my head when I first see you.
Yes, I am terrible with faces. My memory betrays me, over and over again, choosing to remember with delicate precision attack combos and defense tactics related to kendo, while deciding for itself that all names and faces are but a drop in the ocean of all names and faces that surround me.
Granted, in the grand scheme of people whom I should remember, Shimazu Yoshino's name has been carved with terrifying depth into my heart. I believe this is the reason why I never stopped thinking of her since that ill-fated encounter we had four years ago.
And it wasn't as if onee-sama's names was punched through my heart at once when we first met; rather, these scars are a byproduct of time; a scratch that has never healed, a wound that was reopened a million times over, each time with more and more force, each time closer to the core.
I let it happen.
I let it because that pain had flourished after years of numbness, like a gift that was mine to feel. And that I did. I let it all in, felt all of it, and it hurt me, ripped me to shreds, broke me, terrified me, made me the person I am today.
For the first time I had found myself afraid of losing what was never mine to begin with.
Then, as I was caught in the down spiral of heartbreak, I found myself repeating the same mistakes made by Yumi-sama. I looked at onee-sama with the same longing eyes Yumi-sama would give Sachiko-sama when their friendship started to become something more; when holding hands was simply not enough to satiate the endless desires of hearts deeply connected by something that transcended love –I know this because not only was I able to see it, I felt it, too. I think everyone in the Rose Mansion did–. Still, when it comes to us, Yumi-sama and I are not one in the same. Yumi-sama was only fighting against her own insecurities because Sachiko-sama wasn't sure whom she belonged to quite yet. My battle, on the other hand, had been lost even before it started. All along Hasekura Rei was onee-sama's home. A bystander, all I could do was watch their love for each other grow, transform, and expand into something no one could touch.
"Unfortunately, your table is not ready yet, ma'am."
My heart floods with warmth, not at the half-hearted apology from the restaurant host, but at my witnessing of something I can only describe as a phenomenon.
Sei-sama wraps her arms around you. You, whose name I don't know, whose face I have never seen before.
Like the tease you must be, you don't fall for Sei-sama's scheme, and instead of struggling in her arms, you lean into the hug. Then your lips find home on Sei-sama's cheek.
My heart explodes inside my chest as you catch her off guard. She laughs and you laugh –heartily, like it's been a while since happiness has reached you but now that it has, you hold on to it with all the strength you have.
And it's a lot of strength, isn't it?
So, who are you? Resting your head on Sei-sama's shoulder only so she can plant a kiss in your hair.
Somehow I don't want this endearing second to end. I want you there, in the arms of someone who will not let go.
And I want these butterflies raging in my chest to be within your ribcage, too.
I know; however, that this love that Sei-sama gives you is not the same love she has for the girl sitting next to her: Mizuno Youko-sama wears a smile on her face at your and Sei's antics, like you are simply a couple of children playing.
Much like Sei-sama, Youko-sama also looks at you with endless adoration, like you are incapable of doing harm, of hurting people, of breaking hearts.
But you are! And though I have never seen your face before, I have met people like you. I've seen your kind in action before. You quietly sweep them off their feet with your mysterious voice, laconic speech, with that tinge of yearning which envelopes each word you utter with careful deliberation. You never tell stories properly; always leaving important details behind. You take without giving back because you're scared shitless of getting hurt again.
All of this makes me wonder who is the person who hurt you so badly that shutting down was the only way out of your own hell. And I wonder where you fled to, where you hid while you healed by breaking other's hearts into tiny pieces.
"I figured. Sorry to cause you trouble, but I just found my friends at the bar…" I tell the host with the most awkward of delays, then ask him if I can walk up to meet with them.
"Who are you?"
I ask myself again. You sit amongst my friends so comfortably as if you have been there your whole life, so I surely should know you.
I wrack my brain, "I should know you," I say it to myself, like someone who has gone mad.
I should know this smile that reaches your eyes when Yumi-sama approaches you from around the bar, with giddiness reserved for people she thinks the world of. The same way I should know those tears you shed when Shimako-sama sprints pass me, ignoring whatever the host tells her, and doesn't stop running until she is in your arms.
Noriko doesn't seem to see me standing here either; always more worried about her heart beating at the same rhythm as Shimako's –I don't blame her for that.
Forgive me, but you're right in front of me, sharing tears and laughter with the most important people in my life, yet, I'm a mere spectator of this raft of happiness.
And even though I know you hold the power to obliterate whatever is left of my heart, I, still, selfishly wonder if you could spare some of those feelings for me. Even though your heart is broken and your will a bit shaken, I wonder, if even still, you could share that smile with me. I would gladly take your tears, too.
Maybe I'll learn more about myself by learning more about you.
I want you on a Tuesday night when the project you were working on for weeks is still not finished, and you come home hungry, exhausted, mentally drained, in the brink of a breakdown.
I want you, humming your favorite songs as we drive to visit your friends –my friends– on a Saturday night.
I want you with all of your insecurities, and I promise to never stop trying to make you see that they cannot compete with the love I will give you.
"Who are you?" I ask myself one last time as I make my way toward my and your friends.
We finally make eye contact and I attempt to swallow dry the butterflies trying to escape my chest through my mouth. I know you see them, too, and though they dance around me, we both know that their destination, their home, will be inside your chest.
You smile at me, like you know me already, like this split second was enough for you to learn everything you needed to know about my soul.
Though I am terrified, I have no reservations about you keeping all of my secrets.
I hope you see that, too.
"Nana-chan!" Sei-sama calls out to me.
"Youko-sama, Sei-sama," I bow; saying my hellos like someone has shoved a stick up my ass.
Then, I look at you again.
Beautiful would be an underestimation of what you are. Beautiful would only touch the surface of you.
You extend your hand, and I meet you halfway, "I'm Kanina Shizuka," you tell me, pulling me toward you at the same time you lean my way.
The red string of fate wraps around your pinky finger, then secures itself on mine, too.
My soul touches yours. Can you feel it?
Your lips find my cheek, and I wish I were brave enough to turn, to take your mouth in mine.
I would never let go.
Kanina Shizuka, the name floods my head, my heart; it seeps into my lungs, drowning me with the complexities carried by those longing eyes.
"Kanina Shizuka," I repeat under my breath as you pull away from me, our hands still tethering us, and I make sure I say your name loud enough so you can hear it. This is your name, stripped away from any honorifics, the same way I want you to be: bare from any walls, or shields, or armor. I will take your heart, and I will tend to it with these calloused hands of mine that until today only knew how to strike, and break, and hurt.
From now on I will live to piece together your brokenness, to mend, to heal, to nurse your heart back to life, back into the light, which is where it has always belonged.
You chuckle as your lips part from my skin, I hear it faintly, but it's enough to know you heard this bold, yet, most timid proclamation of what I am capable of, if you let me in.
With flushed cheeks you look at me, straight at me, like you have found something you lost long ago.
The rules of reciprocity dictate that it's my turn to introduce myself, "Arima Nana, it's a pleasure to meet you," I tell you, almost in a whisper.
It seems as if you don't want to let go of my hand, and I am here holding on to the last millisecond of your touch.
"You're Yoshino-chan's little sister, right? You ask, and as my head spins full of you, I fumble, "Who?"
A/N: Loosely based on Aquilo's song "Who are you?"
