Realistic or Modern [Heartfelt Lies] Asynchronous Heartbeats

[ERode]

You know, people always say communication is key, right? But the way I see it, it's not that simple.

Words don't mean anything. It's just air, in the end.​

It's like a song, a dance of words and silence, of truth and lies.

That's why there's stuff like lip service. Flattery. White lies. Bullshit.​

Just like a rock song, communication isn't about hitting the right notes; it's about the passion, the raw emotions.

People talk about having heart-to-hearts with each other, but those are just precursors to action.​

It's about being honest, saying what you mean, and meaning what you say. Interactions, relationships, they're not always sweet like a pop song. Sometimes they're hard rock, full of crashes and clashes.

In the end, that's what it all boils down to. If you want your words to mean something, if you want your communication to matter, then put your money where your mouth is.​

But that's okay. Because that's what makes it real. You see, life is a series of missteps and miracles, clashes and harmonies, in friendships, in love, and in self-discovery. And it's all woven together with the threads of communication.

And if you can't?​

So, welcome to my story. It's going to be a wild, honest, and sometimes awkward ride. But hey, that's just how I like it.

Then don't waste your breath. I've grown deaf to empty communication.​

Asynchronous ♫ Heartbeats​

// First Week of September

That had been the line in the sand he had drawn: in school, they were not a couple.

It was logical, after all. He didn't need to involve Sango in his bullshit, so he didn't. Even if she didn't mind his choice of clothing, even if he didn't mind if she minded his choice of clothing, association with him would still bring more trouble than it was worth for her, especially when, despite all her efforts to appear otherwise, she wasn't the sort of girl to go in fists swinging if there was something she didn't agree with. He didn't need her to feel the need to laugh along with a 'joke' tossed in his direction, didn't need to make her feel like she'd have to apologize for the way her classmates spoke of him afterwards. Especially, he didn't need anyone to treat her like a weirdo for associating with him.

There were some fights he was willing to go into, but there were other fights that were lost from the start.

So that was the line in the sand he had drawn, and when he had drawn it, he made sure that she knew too, that he would make up for it with a weekend that was packed with five whole school days worth of couple-stuff.

...what that was though, Haru didn't know. But he had money and he had time, and with both those combined, he had gotten them both tickets to a venue in the neighbouring city. It would be a two hour bus ride, for sure, but it would be worth it. BiSH, the band Sango was a fan of, had disbanded a good few years ago, but word amongst his connections was that a band that rose into underground prominence performing BiSH songs was having a show within striking distance, so what was Haru to do? It was a fight he could win, securing tickets from auction sites online, and all he suffered from it was heavy bags in his eyes and a fatigue he couldn't shake. The fatigue was a bit annoying, but the eyebags? He liked the look. Gave him a deranged punk-rock look, even without his eyeliner.

It was 9AM now. The sun was roasting him up pretty well, summer's last hurrah after a tepid August, and there was still a half hour before the inter-city bus arrived at the stop. He didn't mind at all though. Today was a goth loli day, after all, and the white, frilled fabrics did a wonderful job both at deflecting heat and at contrasting with his electric lowlights and his piercings. He had a small bottle of water in the inner pocket of his dress if things got desperate, and he was getting real good at wearing heels; Sango looked great at any angle, but boyfriends apparently had to at least look taller than their girlfriends, so he had practiced his balance, toughened up his toes, and could now command a two inch height advantage over her...until she busted out her own pumps.

It would be a good day.

He would make it a good day.

...

A thought crossed his idle mind. Sango looked great. Why did he not think of her as either cute or beautiful? He discarded it with the next thought.

It didn't matter. Those were just words.

Summer gave its last hurrah, and the cicadas let out their last cries. Autumn would soon strip away the leaves, and winter would bite at the exposed branches.

 

[Trystan1295]

CAST:

​

Trystan1295 as Sango Namino
ERode as Haru Sarachi

Oh, and Ehb is there too. Hi, GM-san.

Interest Check Link: Here!
Character Sheets Threads: Here!

Please check these links for more information on the two characters involved and the plot of the Common Route that inspired the backstory behind this 1x1!

Synopsis:
​

What started off as quiet admiration over a Sports Festival blossomed as an unspoken romance over months of hardship. When their schools were forced to merge due to political scheming and machinations beyond their control, these two brave young souls stood up in the face of adversity and came out victorious, all while holding each other’s hand under the table. Haru, the headstrong, up-and-coming young Strider, and Sango, the passionate gymnast-turned-cheerleader with dreams of glory. He was impressed by her upbeat attitude and her determination to keep spirits high, even when all hope seemed lost, while she fell for his tenacity and raw force of will to punch through any obstacle that came his way, circumstantial or otherwise. She claimed her way up to the top of the social food chain, but he could only see himself sinking further and further as the odds stacked heavier and heavier against him.

While Sango poured in hours of effort to save their school from the same fate that doomed St. Kisai and Teijin High, Haru supported her from the shadows, and while distance persisted between the two, it was clear they both counted with each other’s support, whether the other person had any idea or not. Regardless, the only signs of love overshadowing this dream came from whispers in the hallways that just wouldn’t hold up in the grand scheme of things.

As Sango's own life continued on the up and up, Haru's own prospects were sabotaged by his unwillingness to just let the boys be boys. Things culminated in violence at the Maid Cafe Tournament, followed by her own work at the school's stage. It was a mirror of what happened during the Sports Festival, and while nursing a black eye, he figured he may as well congratulate her afterwards. That, of course, is when he came across the whole deal with the producer. To him, refusing that offer seemed pretty insane, especially when she ought to owe the school nothing.

So he vocalized that. Perhaps came across more emotionally than he wanted to be. Obviously Sango remained with her own decision in the end, but one thing did change though: his interest in live music, developed during summer, was in part due to him checking out performance venues out of curiousity, to see who Sango's 'competitors' were.

As Sango burned bright in the final arc, Haru was smouldering, in shambles. Perhaps it was her hubris that made her believe that the one student the study session didn't manage to salvage the grades of could still be saved, but she'd reach out first. And Haru, seeing everything that Sango had, everything that she could accomplish still, took her hand, hoping to rekindle something.

But that wasn't a basis for a relationship, really.

And Haru, mayhaps, didn't even want a relationship in the end.

Theme: Stagnation​

 

[Trystan1295]

Faceclaim: Aoi Fuji. Art by Kayahara.

Sango Namino
​

Sango's eyes sparkled as they scanned Haru's outfit up and down. She was absolutely floored--her standards for her boyfriend's outfits were already through the roof, but she could tell he really pulled out all the stops for this one. Just like every time prior, she was outclassed and outplayed by Haru on all fronts. Ever since he'd taken up crossdressing, he'd never flopped a fit once. She spent plenty of her sweet time basking in Haru's radiance, but a pang of sorrow made the corner of her curled-up lips twitch. She was head over heels for this man, but the ground rules were set--nothing lovey-dovey until after they were safely out of Kusatsu.

She didn't blame Haru for setting those kinds of boundaries. Following the whole fiasco that had turned their school into a national headline and had only finished weeks prior, it was expected for Sango (at the very least) to be recognized as a bit of a celebrity in the town. Just being spotted hanging out alone with Haru was enough of a risky move for their own cover story, but it wasn't like nobody knew they were at least on cordial terms. She looked down at Haru's shoes, then shifted her attention to the boots she was wearing. She couldn't help but wince as she thought about how much he must be struggling to keep his balance on those ten-centimeter heels. There was a chance he wore them just to make a fashion statement--something that would be remiss of Sango to assume would be beyond Haru--but being a girl, she knew it'd never be as easy for someone with such little experience to slip on a pair of heels and walk around like nobody's business.

She clasped her hands together, gave the young man a sweet smile, and addressed him. "I hope I didn't make you wait too long, Sarachi-kun. I wanted to push my limits a bit to find a fit that could stack up to yours." She swayed her hips from side to side, giving the young man a pretty ample view of her flashy blue outfit. "I don't exactly think I nailed it, but I do like how it turned out. What do you think?"

Sango figured she was hiding it pretty well, but she felt a bit of sorrow having to call Haru by his family name. It wasn't like he'd insisted on this when he first laid out the ground rule, but she'd gotten so used to calling him "Sarachi-kun" due to the secrecy of their relationship that she found the idea of calling him by his given name at any point too embarrassing. Not to mention, she didn't want to risk calling him that while she was within reach of the wrong set of ears. They'd been going out for a while already, and by this point, it's usually expected for two people that share such an intimate connection with each other to drop the honorifics around each other at the very least.

For an instant, a panicked thought lodged itself into the back of her head like an arrow. "What if such an intimate connection was never there to begin with...?" She mentally brushed away the thought. "No, I must be overthinking things. Secret or not, we are going out, right? That's just how it goes... I shouldn't make a fuss out of it. Today has to be a good day. The best day."

ERode

 

[ERode]

He pulled his phone out in response.

"Waited thirteen minutes." Whether that was long in Sango's point of view, he didn't know, but the tone he said it in indicated that he didn't mind waiting that long. They weren't going to miss the bus, at least. And as for the other question...

Don't be weird about it. Focus on the choices. Color coordination, fit, body confidence. Remember. Sango liked fashion. Approach it from that angle.

...he nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smile. "You coordinated with both yourself and the weather. It was a good choice, and the neon accents on your socks are a great touch too, Namino-san. The fingerless gloves give an active vibe, but the entire combination overall lends well to a pop star feel." His gaze drifted to her midriff. His heart picked up pace, just for a split second. And then, he continued. "And that checkermark pattern on the interior of your jacket? Absolute acing." He neither closed the distance nor backed off in any way as he turned away, looking down the street for the bus they were taking. A sharper edge entered his tone, the lopsided smile exposing sharp teeth. "We'll hit the people at the venue so hard with contrast that they'll get an entire change of scenery."

Well, fashion statements aside, it'd still be best if they could enjoy themselves at the venue.

 

[Trystan1295]

A pleasantly surprised Sango released a playful chuckle. She knew she'd been baiting for praises, yet she didn't foresee such a bountiful haul, considering the situation. If this had been their first outing, she might have noted Haru's reluctance to mention her physique or anything about her looks beyond her outfit. However, she'd gotten used to his approach. On one side, a misplaced compliment about her form risked blowing their cover to the entire town, while on the other, she'd convinced herself that Haru harbored a bashful streak that deterred him from exhibiting flirtatious or tender gestures.

The unmistakable rumble of the bus caught Sango's attention before it came into view. She had to squint to make out the shape of the transport, but once she identified it, her eyes lit up in excitement. "Seems like our ride is almost here!" she announced, pointing towards the nearing vehicle. The bus slowed to a standstill, and following a brief lull, the doors hissed open, uncovering a mostly vacant interior. As she took the lead onto the bus, she handed over her fare, her gaze momentarily shifting to Haru as he trailed her. Much as she yearned to cover Haru's fare, she understood it would likely irritate him in the best-case scenario, or arouse suspicion in the worst.

Sango found herself sneaking peeks at Haru whenever she could. She recognized the necessity of their pretence, yet she longed to treasure every moment. Haru's understated signs of anticipation, his skillfully concealed eagerness for their audacious adventure—these were moments she yearned to recall. These minute occurrences were what rendered their exceptional bond truly remarkable.

She opted for a pair of seats towards the rear of the bus to minimize any chance encounters with other passengers. She held off until the bus engine grumbled into motion before leaning into Haru's ear and encouraging him. "Get ready to steal the show, Sarachi-kun."

 

[ERode]

Haru stepped in a beat later. Ladies first and all that. The fare was paid without much consideration on his own part. It was just a bus fare, after all. Even if he still felt like he got gouged when getting those tickets, his financial situation wasn't all that dire.

And anyhow. He wasn't so stupid as to buy tickets for an event that he couldn't actually transit to himself.

Following after Sango, he allowed her the window seat, sitting down closer to the center aisle as the two settled in the back of the bus. It'd be a two hour ride to the next town over, where more lively spots of the urban sprawl could be enjoyed, but these long trips were something that, while Haru didn't particularly like, was growing on him. The bits of conversation they'd have, the comfortable quiet they settled into. The scenery, familiar and falling away. They shared ice cream on the hotter days, trying to eat it quickly enough that it didn't melt onto their hands. And though it wasn't all that warm now, it was still good to get hydrated early. So, naturally, Haru reached for the bottle of water inside his purse.

And naturally, Sango leaned in at the same time, her breath tickling his piercings as her words echoed down one ear.

He nearly jumped, the shivering of his body one of restraint more than anything else. Too close! Surprise transitioned to an irrational burst of anger, a cascade of thoughts slipping through his mind. If the water bottle had been open, more than just the tickets would have been ruined. But just as quickly as anger rise did Haru breath it all out, relaxing his grip on the plastic bottle. He raised it up instead, pressing the cool surface against Sango's cheek. She took good care of it; it was perfectly smooth and elastic, compelling a pinch.

But, of course, Haru would always restrain himself.

"Thirsty?" he asked instead, tilting his head to the side.

Ignoring her bit of encouragement too. There was only one person who needed to steal the show, and it wasn't him.

 

[Trystan1295]

Sango noticed the almost imperceptible stiffening of Haru's posture as she leaned in closer, their hands nearly brushing over the water bottle. Her heart gave a slight jolt—a pang of guilt for pushing his boundaries. His casual question carried a subtle tension beneath the playful surface. She offered a small, apologetic smile in response, understanding that she might have stepped a bit too close for his comfort.

The surprising chill of the bottle against her cheek felt like a gentle admonishment, a non-verbal reminder of the personal space he required. She held his gaze, reading the silent message in his eyes. They communicated in their own unspoken language, a code developed over shared glances and gestures. She appreciated this aspect of their relationship, even if it occasionally meant being reminded of her overstepping.

Outside, the city lights rushed by in a blur. She watched the reflections play against the glass of the window pane, feeling the bus hum beneath them. He was there, right beside her, and yet she felt a chasm of awkwardness opening up between them. A silence had fallen, and Sango was at a loss for how to bridge the divide. She glanced at the water bottle, her hand hesitating before reaching for it.

Fighting the rising discomfort, she tried to lighten the mood. "I want to make this night a memorable one, Sarachi-kun," she suggested, taking the bottle from his grasp. There was an undercurrent of reassurance in her voice, a promise to respect his boundaries. Tonight was about them—together yet separate, each living their shared story in their own way.

 

[ERode]

There was no response.

Haru's eyes were closed, his breathing soft and gentle, in the throes of a light sleep. The bus had lulled him into slumber, a slumber that was not without warrant considering the efforts of the night before, and the chasm of silence, whether peaceful or stressful, remained between the two.

...

Time passed on, at once fast and slow. The mechanical voice within the bus called out their stop, and Haru blinked himself awake, springing to his feet with an alacrity that seemed wholly at odds with how he had been sleeping just moments prior. In the downtown core, neon lights were abuzz with a frenetic energy, the music of the city one that was orchestrated by purpose and desire: car engines rumbling, pedestrians marching, traffic signs bleeping. It was a sight for sore eyes, compared to the muted lethargy of Kusatsu, and the crossdressing boy bounced out of bus eagerly.

He spied the live house almost immediately. Club Nowhere was a local legend, buzzing with youths and aficionados, where diamonds in the rough polished themselves within the bold red stage as the charismatic owner, a foreigner from Somalia, mixed up a dizzying array of non-alcoholic cocktails. Its sign, an abstraction of a compass rose, gleamed within the deepening amber of the descending evening, and Haru smiled despite his urge to line up before the queue grew too long. His phone slid into his hands easily enough; he waved for Sango to come on over.

It was another ritual of theirs. They both had social media accounts to maintain, but they both wanted to keep their relationship outside the purview of the internet too. The only way they could be together in that sense then, was to take pictures of each other and swap through SNS afterwards.

"Strike a pose, Namino-san," Haru called, already fiddling with the settings. "Like you're gonna break the 20k follower barrier!"

 

[Trystan1295]

Sango grinned, flashing a mischievous glint in her eyes. She knew Haru was beyond qualified to capture her colorful and eccentric style in every photograph. As she adjusted her outfit and struck a confident pose, she exuded a unique charisma. The busy city streets became their makeshift studio, where their creativity could run wild.

As Haru snapped a series of shots, Sango effortlessly switched poses, her confidence radiating through each click of his phone's camera. Passersby glanced with curiosity, drawn to the duo's infectious energy. Amidst the bustling arteries of the city, they created their own vibrant universe. The neon lights served as the perfect backdrop, enhancing the raw emotion within each frame.

It had become a cherished ritual—a tradition peculiar to their connection. Maintaining separate social media identities while cherishing their relationship away from the prying eyes of the internet. Photographs served as glimpses into their intimate moments together, shared solely through their preferred social networking sites.

Satisfied with the impromptu photoshoot, Sango knew it was time to continue their journey and savor the offerings of Club Nowhere. Laughter and excitement intertwined as they approached the venue, leaving the vibrant city streets behind for the time being. The compass rose sign embraced their entrance, a portal to a world where passion and creativity merged seamlessly.

They crossed the threshold, and the pulsating energy of the live house enveloped both of them. Music permeated the air, resonating with her heartbeat, creating a symphony of emotions. The crowd became a sea of kindred spirits, each on their unique journey within the realm of artistry and self-expression. Even in her flashy blue outfit, and among the bustling audio ambience, Sango felt like she blended effortlessly into the tapestry of the moment. Before she knew it, she'd started swaying her arms from side to side, as if swept away by the rhythm.

Turning to Haru, she was about to ask him a question, but she cut herself off before a word left her lips, as she'd just noticed something about him. She looked down at Haru's heels, then back at his eyes, before addressing him. She had to practically yell at him because of the background noise, but she thought she came off pretty clear when she asked, "Can you dance in those?"

 

[ERode]

Noise, vibrant, electric, energizing noise, silenced the storm within his mind and gave him the opportunity to simply enjoy the present. Familiar hits thrummed through the crowded space, the ever-eclectic crowd of youths the true draw of Club Nowhere. It was a mosh pit of sensibilities and dialects, composed of countryside kiddos who flocked to this metropolitan beacon, and for the atmosphere alone, Haru enjoyed it.

But there was more to enjoy now. Sango was here, after all, a stand-out even amongst her peers. Her outfit, coordinating with the early-autumn sky, now matched the spotlight that she seemed to coincidentally, instinctually, step beneath, and the effect was as dazzling as always. Swaying with the music himself, Haru watched, lost in the sensation of simple experience. The sound of the guitar solo. The sight of his...Sango's timed swaying, fabrics swinging with the drums. The smell of alcohol and sweat, at once repulsive and addictive. The taste of his own saliva, of anticipation and exhilaration. The feeling of his heart, pounding in double-tempo.

She was shouting something at him, and he grinned in response, his heels clacking as he took two steps back.

A cocktail sloshed against his elbow; he hardly noticed. Three steps, sharp. Legs bending down. And then, up! Without hesitation, Haru performed a perfectly backflip, the strobing lights like stars as his knees tucked in, pinning down his dress so he didn't actually end up flashing his underwear at his date. He landed half a beat later, feeling the strain on his ankles as the heels clacked against the floor once more. It'd leave an indent, but that was all.

"No!" He shouted. "Show me!"

 

[Trystan1295]

She laughed, a melodic sound that blended with the chaotic symphony around them. Sango's eyes sparkled with amusement as she moved closer, her voice cutting through the pulsating music. "You really want to see more, Haru?"

The spotlight found her, illuminating her figure as if it were drawn to her magnetically, casting an ethereal glow over her presence. The music's rhythm swayed through her, controlling her movements like an invisible partner. She surrendered to it, her body swaying in perfect synchronization with the melody. Layers of sound enveloped her senses—the guitar solo pierced through the air, the drums reverberated deep within her chest, and the crowd's energy created a symphony of exhilaration.

Amidst the scent of alcohol and sweat, Sango's senses were heightened, making every moment feel alive and tangible. The taste of anticipation lingered on her tongue as she shouted something to Haru, her voice drowned by the music's crescendo. A mischievous smile played on her lips, a silent invitation for what was to come.

Like a force of nature, Sango moved effortlessly, her every step charged with electric energy. The strobing lights, akin to celestial bodies, danced with her as she leaped into the air, her body twisting and turning. It was a ballet of freedom and self-expression, an ode to the intoxicating liberation found within the music.

Her feet reunited with the ground as the crowd erupted into cheers, their applause a symphony of approval. Sango's heart pounded within her chest, a wild tempo that echoed the undeniable connection she felt with the music. She raised her head, meeting Haru's gaze with a mixture of exhilaration and pride. In that sacred moment, she understood that Club Nowhere was more than just a physical space—it was a realm where emotions transcended words, where souls connected through the unifying language of music. And Sango, with her captivating performance, had become the conduit for that ethereal connection, drawing others into the realm where hearts beat to the rhythm of freedom.

 

[ERode]

What was there to say?

Nothing.

What was there to see?

Everything.

...

He was still abuzz long after the main event of the day was over. Strands of hair stuck to his skin from a sweat that was brought for by exhilaration rather than exertion, and Haru greedily gulped out the second bottle of water he had brought today, its once-frozen contents now lukewarm. It was hard to describe, the flood of emotions that he felt when he watched Sango dance, when he watched her shine. He had never been more convinced of anything else in his life, after all. She was a diamond. She captured light and converted it into brilliance. Kusatsu was too small for her.

Good thing they were graduating then.

"Beautiful steps," he said, offering his handkerchief to her to clear off her own sweat. "Your sense for music is still something I'll never have, Namino-san. I'd even go as f-"

"Haru-chan~" The rattling of silver chains, the chime of earrings. From behind him, a silver-haired woman embraced Haru by way of greeting, a lazy grin on her face as her heterochromatic eyes (had to be due to contact lenses) gleamed in the dark. "Been so long~"

And as for the youth himself...there was not a single shred of hesitation or surprise, or even confusion on his part. No inhibitions about contact, no squirming or flickers of irritation, whether directed inward or outward. "Momoka," he said, his own hand reaching up to give hers a quick squeeze, "Been too long! Looking great today." A cheekier smile, perhaps more befitting someone who was still a high schooler, crept out. "That abs roller doing work?"

"You know it~" There was a sing-song lilt to her voice as she stepped back, a glint of approval and perhaps something more as she appraised Haru's own outfit. Her gaze ended up upon Sango instead though, and there came the obvious question. "Who's this cutie? Didn't know you had a girlfriend!"

"Ahaha, this is Namino-san. Namino-san, Momoka. Momoka's relatively famous in the underground scene in Tokyo, ya see, as a singer. Drops by here just to retouch with her roots though, every once in a blue moon."

She jabbed him in the ribs. "He's been messaging me every few days about when I'd be around again. Super clingy, dontcha know~?"

He kicked her back, foot tapping against her calves. "Not in that way. But figured that if you wanted to go indie instead of agency, Namino-san, Momoka can offer a lot."

 

[Trystan1295]

Sango spun around to face a woman with striking silver hair, her heterochromatic eyes reflecting a mischievous grin. Sango's heart sank as she observed their playful familiarity. Who was this woman? As Haru exchanged pleasantries with her, Sango fought the rising tide of jealousy within. She couldn't help but feel threatened, wondering about the nature of their relationship. Her lips curled into a nervous smile, concealing the unease that churned in her stomach. She strained to hear their conversation, her ears catching fragments of their lively exchange.

She took mental note that Haru did not "clear the air" when he introduced her, a gesture she took as bittersweet. She was sure Haru meant it to mean this lady was someone they could trust with their secret, but the fact that Haru held such a high level of trust with this stranger only served to tighten the knot in Sango's stomach. The silver-haired woman's gaze fell upon her, and Sango felt a sudden surge of self-consciousness, her cheeks burning. The woman's question pierced the air, and Sango's nerves intensified.

Momoka's teasing tone stung, amplifying Sango's anxiety. She fidgeted, hands twisting the hem of her blouse as she stammered, "I-is that so?" She turned to face Momoka and forced a smile. "Nice to meet you, er... Momoka-san. I've always dreamed of dancing in front of a huge crowd, but Sarachi-kun is right; I'm not the agency type. All the public scrutiny, the unwanted attention, and the paparazzi... I've only had a taste of that kind of pressure, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone." Sango recalled her experiences in Yuzu High, and she internally kicked herself for thinking of it as a bad thing at all... but that was indeed an unfortunate byproduct of her efforts to save the school. You know what they say, after all: "With great power, comes great responsibility."

Noticing the mood was set to go sour fast, Sango decided to lighten the mood by asking Momoka and Haru a concern that had been nagging at her for a while, disguised as a small-talk question: "So, how do you two know each other?"

 

[ERode]

Haru could see that she was nervous, that much was certain. But then again, who wouldn't be nervous, talking with an illustrious stranger?

Yup. That was certainly him misreading the entire situation.

"Totally get you there~ The whole manager thing is so bullshit!" Momoka giggled, swaying up close to peer at Sango's face. She smelled of alcohol, too. An older woman then. "And no need for honorifics. It's a stage name Haru-chan's using."

"I had a chance to talk with her, I'd say...two months ago?" Just a month after the American-style Dance. "Forced my way into her circle, really, but it-"

"Was frankly adorable! I'd have eaten him up, y'know? If it wasn't for, y'know!"

He rolled his eyes, but the exasperation that was present surely wasn't anywhere clear for the fiery disdain he usually had. Was Haru holding back? The same Haru that had been ready to fight half the school with his bare fists, when he never stepped into a dojo his entire life? It was uncharacteristic, to say the least. "It worked out, and, like I said. The connection's a good one to make, don't you think?"

 

[Trystan1295]

Sango's heart raced as she observed the lively interaction between Haru and Momoka. Her palms grew sweaty, and she fought to maintain a composed facade. The mention of her role as a manager and the revelation of Haru's stage name caught her off guard. She felt like an outsider intruding on a conversation that already had a history.

Momoka's giggles only added to Sango's discomfort. The scent of alcohol in the air mingled with her nerves, creating a disorienting effect. Sango struggled to find her place in the conversation, her mind racing to catch up. She sensed an undercurrent of camaraderie between Haru and Momoka, their easy banter and shared memories creating a sense of intimacy she couldn't quite grasp.

Attempting to blend in, Sango forced a smile and nodded along, feeling like an imposter in their world. She couldn't wrap her head around the details and connections being revealed. The conversation unraveled a deeper complexity, hinting at a bond that had grown at a rate that eclipsed that of her own. Uneasy assimilation settled within her, intensifying her sense of inadequacy and a fear of not truly belonging.

As the conversation continued, Sango's anxiety swelled. She yearned for a sense of belonging, while grappling with the fear of being left behind in a realm she didn't fully comprehend. These fragments of interaction played on her insecurities, highlighting the gaps where her understanding fell short. Unsure of how to navigate this uncharted territory, Sango clung to hope that she could find her footing and become an integral part of the intricate connections that seemed to define the lives of those around her.

"Yeah, you're right," said Sango. She forced the fakest giggle she'd ever made and told the two, "I'm really sorry about this, but I need to excuse myself. I'll be in the washroom if you need me!"

After waving halfheartedly at the two, Sango spun on her heel and pursed her lips. She totally should have waited for confirmation, or even for directions to the bathroom. Truth be told, though, the air between Haru and Momoka was so stifling, she couldn't stand to bear their presence a moment longer. Lest she react in a way she'd go on to regret, at least. Without looking back, she walked towards the far end of the club. She wasn't even sure if she was going in the right direction, but she sure as hell wasn't going to turn around and ask.

 

[ERode]

The evening ended.

In the end, Sango didn’t return before Momoka had to leave, but Haru didn’t think too much of it. He waited outside the lady’s restroom for her, fiddling with his phone to whittle away the time, only to see her arrive from down the hallway instead. A different restroom then? Explained how long it took.

Their conversation was muted on the bus though, an awkward atmosphere settling in as they sat side-by-side on the bus home. Mosquitos buzzed in the last dregs of summer, the cicadas long dead. Fluorescent lamps lit up the bus stop they departed upon, and in sterile brightness, the two of them parted.

Was it a night to remember?

Yes.

But whether that was good or bad remained uncertain.

---

He didn’t see her on his morning run.

Of all the silly things that they did to keep in touch even when publicly they were friendly acquaintances at best, it was running in the morning that was most enjoyable for Haru. The two of them ran at different paces, enough so that finding a happy medium was impossible if one wanted the morning to be meaningful, so instead, he had plotted out a route for them where their paths would intersect at multiple times.

Like a relay, connecting in motion, but otherwise running alone. A relic, perhaps, of the sport he had left behind, but who could live without sentiment and emotion?

Who could, indeed?

They sat away from each other during class as well, a consequence of their family names, so he hadn’t had any opportunity to even catch her eye then as well, but for lunch, at least, Haru could act. She had her obligations (as a socialite), he had his (as a delinquent), but what did that matter, when they had each other’s contact information?

Atop the school’s roof, working diligently through his broccoli-and-chicken bento, Haru sent out a text.

Didn’t see you in the morning. Slept well?

 

[Trystan1295]

Sango hadn't left her bed, let alone her own room, since returning home after that night. Her heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice, each beat echoing the painful memories of the previous night. The club's neon lights had illuminated the scene all too clearly: Haru, her boyfriend, laughing and chatting with Momoka as if they shared a bond she could never understand. The weight of jealousy pressed down on her, making it hard to breathe. She couldn't fathom how they could be so casual, and so intimate, when the world seemed to conspire against her own desires for such closeness. To distract herself from the gnawing pain, she plugged in her earphones and let the aggressive chords of her favorite J-Rock band, the same chords she couldn't bring herself to enjoy back then, wash over her. The music was a temporary balm, but the images of Haru and Momoka refused to fade.

As she lost herself in the rhythm, she almost missed when her phone buzzed, breaking her reverie. The screen displayed a message from Haru: "Didn’t see you in the morning. Slept well?" Her heart raced, a mix of anger, confusion, and longing. How could he act so nonchalant after last night? Was he really that oblivious to the way she acted? She stared at the message, fingers hovering and quivering over the keyboard, torn between the urge to confront him and the fear of pushing him further away.

Taking a deep breath, Sango typed, "Yeah, slept like a log. Woke up a little under the weather, so I stayed home. Maybe I caught something at the club? LOL." She pressed send, her message a mask for the turmoil inside. Her response did little to quell the storm of emotions raging inside her. To put it bluntly, she didn't feel satisfied. As much as she wanted to come clean to Haru, the wave of uncertainty and self-doubt drowned any thoughts of that that might have bubbled up to the surface otherwise. What would he think if she told him how she felt? Did he feel just as uncomfortable as she did, and if so, was he angry at her?

Unfortunately for Sango, her decision had been settled on before she'd even locked her phone. There was one strategy that had always "worked" for her, and she was sticking to it. The old reliable: "Don't stoke the flames; the problem will solve itself with enough time."