Chapter Eight
Yuzuru's mind slowly came to consciousness.
His brain sluggishly registered that he was sprawled on what he had long ago dubbed a "a slab of bedrock" – a couch in his living room, so stiff it might as well have been made of stone. Yet, he found himself oddly stuck to it. He had absolutely no desire to move.
He was so comfortable.
There was no urge to shift, or turn. His breathing was effortless and rhythmic. His heartbeat was slow. He felt like he had been wrapped in a cocoon of perfect warmth. Not too hot. Not too cold. Perfect— just for him.
It didn't matter that he had lost track of time and had no idea how long he had been sleeping. He didn't care. Yuzuru hadn't even noticed that the sun was now blanketing the entire room, because he eyelids couldn't find the will to part.
He was so content in this position that he wanted to stay like this, indefinitely, if possible.
It took a long few moments before he eventually remembered why he felt this way.
Then, his entire body tensed.
Right on cue, there was a moan as the warmth along his side moved, giving him instant goosebumps.
Hana.
His eyes finally opened and he sharply took in air.
In the unawareness of sleep, the two of them had somehow managed to find themselves completely intertwined on this couch. He was on his back, one leg hanging off the side of the furniture. She was lying across him, on him, with his arm anchoring her firmly to his chest.
He should move.
He didn't want to move.
From his vantage point, the crown of her head obscured his vision, but he could see how the skirt of her dress had ridden up, revealing almost the entire expanse of her thigh.
And he could feel her.
He felt the curves of her body that were intimately pressed against his. He felt how her leg was thrown thoughtlessly over his waist, energy flowing between them.
Every aspect of this situation was absolutely frightening.
And wonderful.
It took everything in him to not run his free hand down the smooth skin of her leg.
I need to move.
He had only known this woman for a day... hours. She was a complete stranger. And yet, her body felt like an extension of his own. Her skin felt just as familiar as the air he pulled into his lungs every moment of his life for the past 22 years.
Even emotionally, he reacted to her with a familiarity that was similarly frightening.
Last night, when she had recounted the few days that led up to him finding her unconscious on the street, he didn't expect to be as affected as he was. Her words had provoked a concern typically reserved for close friends or family members.
Hana was neither.
Still, he couldn't help his hand as it hovered over her thigh as if he was contemplating taking a cookie from the cookie jar.
"Frick sake, Yuzuru."
He jerked, eyes darting to his sister who walked in the living room, hair looking like Rubeus Hagrid's. She must have just woken as well, and she looked exhausted after the late night they all had.
Saya was holding her hand out in front of her as if to shield her vision from him, accosted. She grumbled, "Not what I wanted to see first thing in the morning."
His words of defense were stamped out when Hana squirmed on top of him.
He froze.
Her fist clutched his shirt, bunching the fabric in her small hands as if she was attempting to anchor him to her, like a ship would a dock. Her legs then lifted from him in a stretch, before returning to their previous positions, one draping back across his waist and bringing her hips dangerously close to a place they shouldn't be.
When she finally stilled again, she let out a contented sigh.
He almost groaned.
In any other situation, he would have immediately objected to this.
Hell, who was he kidding?
There would never have been any other situation because he had never allowed himself to be put into a spot like this before.
Even during the nights he shared his bed with another, after their fun was done, he was always quick to untangle himself. He had become quite crafty at the art of unwrapping arms from around him and sneaking out of his own sheets. There were no morning-after cuddles for Yuzuru, and that suited him just fine.
Maybe he would have attempted something like that here too, if her movements weren't manifesting a dangerous slurry of emotions and bringing life to his chest—and other parts of his body.
Yet, when Hana's eyes popped open a moment later to look at him groggily, realizing their current position, something made him want to tighten his grip.
She gasped, "Oh my god."
After a moment of stunned silence, she shuffled off of him, thankfully with more grace than she had managed the prior night. Instead of landing on the ground, she scooted over on the bedrock couch. The break in contact with him made him feel like the air was taken from his lungs.
He ached for it back.
"I'm so sorry!" she seemed breathless.
"It's o-okay," he rasped, even though it wasn't. It wasn't okay. None of this was.
Their eyes locked, and she gazed at him as if torn between simultaneously wanting to move further away and wanting to draw closer again. The obvious conflict in her eyes sparked a fire in his blood. As if in a haze, drunk from the remnants of her touch, he moved to reach out to her, eyelids already half-lidded.
"Yeah... and that's enough," Saya interrupted, stilling his hand in mid-air.
Yuzuru had forgotten his sister was in the room entirely. And, judging by the look of mortification on Saya's face, she wished she could also forget.
"Good morning, Hana. I'm Yuzu's sister, Saya. We didn't really get a chance for introductions last night, but it is nice to meet you," she spoke, before murmuring under her breath, "Although I could have done without that visual for the rest of my life."
With cheeks the color of scarlet, Hana squeaked out, "Nice to meet you."
Saya sighed, running her hands through her hair more forcefully than necessary. She grumbled at Yuzuru, "After you two... finish up with whatever that was, we should all talk—About her unfortunate destiny of being attached to you and all that."
Hana's eyes widened as Saya turned on her heel and left the room, leaving a long few moments of awkward silence in her wake.
He rolled his eyes, "Don't pay her any mind. She's not exactly a morning person."
Hana managed a weak smile, her cheeks still flushed with embarrassment. "Reminds me of someone I know."
Yuzuru shifted, studying her.
She looked night and day from when he found her. Despite that they were not making contact, she was able to hold herself up. Her cheeks had color. There was a certain glow about her.
If at all possible, he wanted to take this chance to speak to her before Saya returned.
"How are you feeling?"
"I'm okay, I think. Just a bit... tired," she responded, avoiding his gaze.
"Dr. Abe said it would take a few days for you to fully recover. He said we should continue to..." he started, before realizing how ridiculous his words were about to sound.
"Continue to?" she urged.
"You know..." he gestured between them, hating how he felt like a hormonal teenager when his own cheeks flushed. Noting her continued confusion, he gave in, begrudgingly, "Touch."
Her lips formed an 'O', catching on and finally looking up at him.
"Doctor's orders. Like a prescription or something," she giggled.
The sound of her laughter was so soft that he uncontrollably shivered, goosebumps forming on his arms.
No.
This wasn't how this interaction was supposed to go. He wasn't supposed to be sitting here, fighting for control of his body because of a sound in this girl's throat. In fact, he had carefully planned for this moment—for when she was cognizant enough to let his intentions be known. He was supposed to be executing his will, not contemplating if maybe she was his own personal brand of ASMR.
No. He couldn't let her affect him like this.
Summoning every bit of his resolve, he composed himself and cleared his throat. "We should discuss the plan going forward."
Her smile waned at the serious, business-like tone to his words.
She nodded. "Alright."
What came next was not a discussion. It wasn't the compromise of two people who had mutual stakes or opinions about the situation or the direction their lives were about to go. His words, carefully prepared before he had even laid eyes on her, were delivered with the precision of a well-rehearsed performance.
"I am supposed to be in Toronto right now, training for the next season," he set forth, avoiding her gaze. "I need to go back and clearly it will be impossible for us to part."
And what he meant was, 'You are coming.'
He would say he didn't mean to be so direct, but he did.
In his bouts of anxiety, he had imagined this conversation a hundred times already. In every scenario he imagined, she rejected his plans without hesitation. That meant he had to stand firm and leave no room for her to refuse.
"Right now?" she spoke, any remnant of that soft giggle gone.
He inwardly groaned.
He knew this was going to happen. She didn't even need to explicitly say 'no', he knew she was going to make this difficult for him and put up roadblocks to his plans. Which was why he had been dreading having this conversation since the moment the Maiden Touch occurred.
But, he was ready to fight. He would make her see, make her understand how important this was to him.
"In case you didn't know, it's an Olympic season," he declared with fervor. "I have to go, and I have to leave as soon as possible if I want to stand a chance at winning," his voice resolute, as if the decision had already been etched in stone.
"I did know—" Hana attempted to interject, but he didn't allow her the chance to speak.
He spoke over her, "I wasn't even supposed to be in Japan right now. I wasn't supposed to be here at all.l, actually."
I was never supposed to meet you.
"We will go to Canada and then have a few trips throughout the year for competitions and then we can come back to Japan after the Olympics," he finished.
When he finally looked straight at her, to gauge her reaction to his declaration, he was taken aback.
Unlike him, who shoved his emotions into the deep recesses of his mind, her emotions were on full display for his viewing.
He had expected resistance, defiance, perhaps even anger.
He found none of those things.
Instead, her brows furrowed as she looked at him with concern and empathy, as if she was genuinely trying to understand him and his plea.
After a few moments, she spoke, "Okay."
He stilled.
This was not in his calculations.
For a moment, Yuzuru was rendered speechless. She wasn't supposed to accept so easily.
She was supposed to put up a fight and tell him that she had a life and a family here and that she shouldn't have to leave. And then, he was going to convince her the move was only temporary.
He had two whole other speeches prepared.
"You are okay with this?"
She nodded. "Yes, I am."
"Why?" It slipped out, unscripted, his brain struggling to understand her selflessness in the face of his own selfish desires.
"You said it meant a lot to you, right?"
All he could do was stupidly nod at her.
"Well, if it is important to you, I'm willing to make sacrifices," the words were so simple and genuine, as if the answer was obvious as soon as she had said them.
Then, her soft smile was back.
Yuzuru felt like he had been sucker-punched in the gut.
He had spent the last few days vehemently objecting to making any alteration to his life after the Maiden Touch. Hell, he had rejected the very notion of having a soulmate, unwilling to give an inch in deviation from his carefully laid plans. And here she was, after suffering to find him, without a word of complaint, and willing to make sacrifices, for him—someone she didn't even know.
Getting what he wanted had never felt so terrible.
He was still looking at her slack-jawed when his sister returned.
"Yuzuru, if you could help me with something in the other room real quick," Saya's words were saccharine sweet, but the steel in her gaze gave away the bitterness that lay underneath. Immediately he knew his sister had heard more than her presence indicated. "Don't worry Hana, I won't steal him for long. I promise."