Yuki didn't splash her face with water this time, instead swiping her damp hands around her neck. She exhaled, nodding at the reflection in the mirror, a girl without a strand of hair out of place or any smudged makeup to speak of. It hadn't been easy, but—
"You did it, Yuki Hime," she said. All week, she'd been dreading that car ride to winter formal with Era. But coming with Rhett had made the initial dread the worst part of the experience. If she could conquer that too, then this could finally be a hill she no longer died on.
Maybe then she'd no longer dream of that midnight road steeped in rain.
Grabbing her clutch, Yuki pulled open the bathroom door to the hall. Rhett was leaning against the opposite wall, hands tucked in his pant's pockets. When a couple rushed by, he shrank back as if he could sink into the gold-leafed wallpaper. Yuki's heels struck the floor as she forced two guys to side-step her while she joined Rhett's side.
"Are you alright?" she asked, raising her voice. Though they hadn't entered the main room with thumping music and dimmed lights, the background noise threatened to swallow up whispered conversation.
Rhett leaned down to talk in her ear, putting a protective hand on her back to shield her from the students pushing past. "You know I'm not one for crowds. Not like you."
"If only you could see how much you've glowed up," Yuki said in Rhett's ear, with a light grip on his shoulder to keep her balance. "I've always thought you're suited to the spotlight, but now you're more confident than you used to be. Other people are sure to notice it too."
"I'm not sure I like the sound of that either." Rhett's eyes flicked up to the people behind her, their depths colored like molten steel. While most of his features took after his mother, the grey eyes and tall physique had been inherited from his father—a quiet, stern businessman with an odd penchant for remembering wishes. Rhett had once said every trinket in the house was the result of a family member looking for a second longer in the store or mentioning an interest in passing. Rhett's guitar was a birthday wish fulfilled and so was Minji's Totoro plushie.
Yuki had envied that, though now she envied the simple reality of having parents who were still alive.
The slight pressure of Rhett's hand brought her nearer to him until her chest hovered mere inches from touching his. "Truth be told, being noticed isn't all that pleasant when it's the wrong person." The flatness of his tone betrayed no emotion, but his eyes spoke volumes as they hardened like sharpened blades.
"Well, Tudor! I thought you were sick and couldn't come."
Yuki turned at the sound of Sophia's voice to find the junior girl hanging on Ethan's arm. The poor boy looked to be sweating bullets, his face and neck as red as Sophia had predicted. Red to match her dress.
"I happened to recover," Rhett answered, his hand on Yuki's shoulder slipping down to hug her waist.
Yuki held her breath while Sophia sized up that subtle gesture with an upward tilt of her chin. Though she was no Era, Sophia could still make her life miserable on a whim. If it came to that, the best outcome Yuki could obtain was to take Sophia down with her. Not the best odds.
Luckily, Sophia tossed her hair and appeared to take Rhett's answer at face value. "He looks like death," Yuki heard the other girl say as she and Ethan moved on without another word. Ethan nodded in agreement, but Yuki caught him glancing back as they rounded a corner. He'd better not have given the ring she'd returned to Sophia...
"Your hands are warm," Yuki murmured as the heat from Rhett's hand pressed through the dress' bodice. She lightly brushed the back of her fingers against his forehead. He might've had a slight fever.
"Yours are cold," Rhett replied. He captured her hand with his free one. "Perfect thermodynamic equilibrium achieved."
At his words and his warmth, Yuki found she was having trouble breathing. Rhett was passing some sickness on to her and she didn't mean his cold. Her heart ached.
She wanted this to be forever, wanted it to be real. She wanted to be the yin to his yang, the rain to his sunshine, the winter to his summer. She wanted to be his truth and not his lie.
By the soft look in his eyes, Yuki could believe he wanted it too. Even if she risked pulling the wool over her own eyes, she'd believe it for tonight.
"There's a second floor with outdoor balconies," she said, her cheek grazing Rhett's when he leaned down to catch her words. "Do you want to go up there? It should be less crowded than the main floor." She, Era, and Sophia had scouted out the hotel ballroom before reserving it, an elegant, open space with a vaulted ceiling and stained glass windows reminiscent of a cathedral.
Rhett nodded, letting Yuki take the lead to the stairs. Instead of keeping bulbs, Era had arranged for them to be replaced with glowing golden crystals tucked into arrangements of silver leaves. A hidden fog machine on the lowest setting permeated the room with a fine mist that swirled around dress hems and polished shoes.
Yuki paused when they reached the top of the landing, which circled all the way around the room, ending only at the entrance with two staircases leading down. It gave a perfect view of the dancing below, the height level with dozens of glass chandeliers and their hundreds of burning candles.
The upbeat music quieted, letting the dancers breathe before piano notes floated upward in 3/4 time. Yuki knew the song from the first bar, recalling sneaking over to the Tudors to play forbidden anime music instead of her required classical pieces. She'd had a particular obsession with this one and asked Rhett to duet with her on the piano.
His eyes caught hers, mirroring the light of recognition. "Care to dance?" he asked, gesturing to open doors of a balcony. With a last glance below, to the dancers whirling like snowflakes in the winter wind, Yuki let him draw her outside where dusk fell.
As their hands joined, the violin strains joined the piano. They danced and Yuki appreciated the beauty of it, the effortless execution of steps as if this was their only purpose in life.
Natsukashii. With more gratitude than nostalgia, more joy than simple yearning, and more faith than wistfulness, the word encapsulated this moment. A moment of beautiful impermanence, of a precious shared experience, all the more valuable because nothing ever happened the same way again. Yet at the same time, it called back to the past, to that soar of emotion when they played this exact song for the first time. The music sailing to them crescendoed.
Everything about Rhett was natsukashii, that pained, yet fond remembrance of what had been. Yuki sunk into him, feeling like she'd evaporate from his embrace. At the same time, she was hyper-aware of the heartbeat in his chest, the color of blush in his cheeks, and the slight parting of his lips.
Though time had changed them, she stared into his eyes and saw the same boy sitting on the hot pavement with scraped hands and knees.
"Why didn't you fight back?" her echo of the past demanded of the little boy.
"Because I don't like seeing people get hurt," he answered, his grey eyes serious yet dry of tears.
Seven-year-old Yuki had squatted down beside him. "You're hurt though, aren't you? You're a person too."
"I don't like hurting people," he clarified. The way he'd said it, that stubborn set of his jaw, decided things.
"I won't let anyone hurt you then," Yuki declared, adding as an afterthought, "If you'll be my friend. I don't have any."
"Me neither," he said, suddenly shy and averting his eyes. But they pinkie swore on it.
Yuki wanted to forget the in-between, but it haunted the looks Rhett gave her now, until he closed his eyes. Their foreheads touched while the music faded away. The feel of his skin on hers burned her up and if she had wings they'd be crumbling to ash.
Standing still, he whispered, "Yuki. Why?"
She'd asked herself that question, over and over. Why?
Why push him away? Why not tell the truth?
But she knew why. Rhett couldn't bear to see others hurt and she couldn't bear to see him hurt. Yuki knew she'd hurt him, but less, less than he would've been. Even worse, if she'd made another choice, she would have been forced to watch.
This wouldn't be what he wanted to hear, she knew. But it was the truth, albeit a melancholy, twisted kind of truth. The kind that still hurt in a bittersweet way.
Natsukashii. The past could not be returned to and be the same again. Natsukashii. She remembered, she appreciated, with fondness and her whole heart.
"I let you go...because I love you," Yuki whispered back.
Chapter Word Count: 1511