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It’s no surprise that Haru loves spring.
She never seemed happy in the winter, always bundled up and shivering. There’s a reason she wears a sweater for every season except summer, and Akira found out the first time they held hands.
Spring meant that the sun was back out and the snow was finally melting—and most importantly, that she could get started with her newest round of plants.
But spring also meant goodbyes.
Akira’s time in Shibuya is almost up, and he’d be going back to his hometown before the end of the month. It’s the only thing he can think about, and though he tries not to show it, he thinks his melancholy is getting rather contagious.
Ryuji and Futaba have both made it a rule that he can’t make that sad face when they’re hanging out. He didn’t even know he had a sad face to make, but apparently he did and it brought down the mood.
And… well… he can’t help worrying that he ruined Haru’s spring.
That’s ridiculous, right? He sees the way her face lights up when he visits her, he knows she’s happy because she tells him as much on every date. God, the way she leans her head on his shoulder and whispers how happy she is never fails to melt his heart, but he still can’t help but think that it’ll only make the goodbye even worse.
They’re trying to cherish the time they have together. It’s not like they’re going to break up, but the distance is a lingering concern of his. They’ll be going from seeing each other every day to maybe seeing each other every few weeks. From living a few short train rides away to living a few hours away. It’s… a downer to think about, but it just means they have to make the most of the time they have left.
The two of them ended up planning a picnic. Nothing big, nothing fancy, but Haru seemed rather excited when he offhandedly mentioned the idea of one, so he knew it was something they had to do together at least once.
Maybe he underestimated just how excited she’d be.
By the time he shows up, Haru already has a spot set out for them, a cute quilt spread out on the grass, half in the shade, half in the sunlight.
The winter chill still lingers, so she’s wearing a light sweater, and even from here, he can tell she’s got goosebumps. It’s a good thing he brought an extra jacket, especially since Haru’s far too stubborn to consider going inside.
Haru’s unpacking the food she brought as he approaches, and he’s startled by the sheer volume of food. When they said they’d each bring half, he didn’t realize she meant enough to feed half the park.
“I hope you don’t mind it’s curry,” he says, half-apologetic. Suddenly two helpings of curry and two thermoses of coffee seem inadequate in comparison.
“I hope you don’t mind I went a little overboard,” she answers. Her face flushes, painting the tips of her ears a soft pink. “It’s mostly desserts. I didn’t know what your favorite was.”
Akira doesn’t think he’s ever seen so many cookies in one place outside of a bakery. It’ll probably take him a week to finish them, which he will. Haru’s cooking is amazing, even if she never gives herself that level of credit, so he makes it a point to always finish whatever she gives him.
She pats the spot next to her, and while he tries to keep some distance in between them—because more often than not, he has the urge to sweep her up into a hug and never let go and he knows she gets jumpy with sudden touch—but Haru just shuffles closer until they’re shoulder to shoulder. And well, he doesn’t really have a choice but to put his arm around her, does he?
They sip their coffee in silence, mostly just drinking in one another’s company. Akira feels like he could do anything when Haru is pressed into his side like this. Which is impractical and almost assuredly untrue, but he likes having her this close.
Across the park, a small group of children have started up a game of tag, shrieking with joy as they chase each other in circles. One of their mothers is chasing around a boy in a short-sleeved shirt, desperately trying to get him to put on a jacket, but it only adds a new layer to the game. It’s only a matter of time before all the children are dodging around the mother, and the mother has no choice but to laugh along with them.
“I’m so glad we got to have a picnic,” Haru says. “I forgot how much fun they were.” There’s an odd note of longing in her voice.
“Something on your mind?” He nods toward the group of kids. “I’m cuter than that kid, you know. Also I could probably beat him in a fight.”
Haru giggles and shakes her head, but it gets her to talk all the same. “I used to have picnics like this all the time when I was younger,” Haru says. “A friend of my father’s always had the most beautiful garden, and we’d sit out and have tea and—” She cuts herself off, her cheeks flaring. “I’m sorry, I’m boring you, aren’t I?”
“Not at all.” More than anything, he’ll miss someone that’s willing to fill his weird silences. He’s always been more of a listener than a talker, so finding people that are willing to talk enough for both of them is somewhat of a relief. People don’t do that back home. “Tell me more.”
Haru giggles, the pink in her cheeks flaring again. “You’re so kind, Akira.” She looks back at the group of kids. The one boy has been caught and wrestled into his jacket, so the mom can walk away victorious. “I guess I was just getting lost in my own memories.”
She shifts her weight, leaning into him a little more heavily. That’s not the end of it, he knows. She just needs a little time to get at what’s really bothering her.
“Is it silly to worry that that might happen to us? That even the most important people in your life can drift away until they’re nothing but memories?”
His first instinct is to deflect with a joke, pointing out that he’s much harder to get rid of than that. And while Haru likes his humor—or, considering the quality of some of his jokes, she’s very, very good at pretending she does—he knows it’s hardly the time.
“It’s kind of scary to think about, huh?” He squeezes her shoulder, trying to sound self-assured when he isn’t. “I think we’ll be okay.”
“I agree.” The tension in her shoulders dissolves a little bit. She turns to him, a shy, teasing smile coming to her lips. “I like texting you pictures of raccoons too much to fall out of touch.”
“I like that too.” Though Akira still doesn’t quite understand what she means when she sends him those images captioned “us,” but he appreciates the sentiment regardless. “I got you something today.”
It’s nothing much, just a trinket he picked up at a convenience store that reminded him of her.
The thing is that Haru loves cheap gifts. He could buy her an island and she wouldn’t light up as much as when he brings her a drink from the vending machine or a toy from a gachapon. He supposes that’s just what happens when you’re surrounded by people who can buy your affection. You get an intimate appreciation for the cheap things.
And it doesn’t get much cheaper than a plastic flower glued to a hair clip.
As expected, Haru grins at the sight of it. She grins so wide it looks like it hurts, her eyes shining all the while.
“It looks like the ones in your greenhouse,” he continues. He’s been trying to learn the names of all her flowers and plants, but memorizing all those names is a lot harder than he thought it’d be. He’d like to surprise her next time they see each other, but for now, it’ll have to be “the red ones,” “the purple ones,” and “those ones over there.”
This time when she looks at the clip in his hands, it’s with a fresh appreciation, like she’s seeing every bit of his thought process and only loves it more as a result. “Oh, the hydrangeas! That’s so sweet of you!”
“Here.” Before he can think better of it, he takes the clip and clips it in a strand of hair near her temple. Up against the glow of her skin, the sheer of her hair, it only looks all the more like cheap plastic, but she beams like he’s given her the Crown Jewels of England.
“How do I look?”
“Like you’re very happy to be wearing a plastic flower.” He has the sudden idea to kiss her forehead, which he acts on before he can talk himself out of it. “And beautiful, but that’s a given.”
Haru flushes at the compliment, grabbing at the hand hanging over her shoulder. “Hush, you.” It’s the closest she’s gotten to actually accepting one of his compliments, and not for lack of trying on his part.
“Your hands are cold,” he points out, threading their fingers together. The first time they held hands, he thought she was pranking him. Like, her hands couldn’t be that cold. She had to be holding an ice cube in her palm or something. But no, she just doesn’t produce much body heat, and while Akira isn’t a furnace by any means, she turns to him to help warm up.
“Does it bother you?” Haru lays her other hand over his. It feels like he just stuffed his hand in a pile of snow in the best way possible. “I’m sure you don’t want to hear it again, but I really am going to miss you.”
“I know.” There’s a tightness in his throat he’s pointedly ignoring. “Me too.”
It was inevitable that they’d have to say goodbye. If he didn’t have to go back to his hometown, she’d still have to leave for college. And as much as he’d love to follow her to college, he doubts with his record that he could get into whatever school she’s going to. Not to mention that she already has her career path planned out and everything. He has no idea where he’s supposed to go from here.
But that’s okay. He has time to figure that out, and he has time with Haru still.
They have today, and they have tomorrow.
And that’s really all he could ask for.