November Passing

In one of his classes, Haruki learned that the most intimate part of the human body is the hair. Most people, his teacher said, feels violated if you touch their hair without permission. Touching somebody's hair meant you're close to the person...

In the bedroom, Haruki was always free to feel Shizuru's hair. Smooth brown locks caught in his hands while grasping for air. Most of the time Shizuru's hair is moist on the pillow, Haruki would turn sideways and breathe them in. In the aftermath of their lovemaking he would say, You are beautiful and Shizuru will be staring at the ceiling, waiting for her breath to descend.

Haruki never expects a reply. Telling Shizuru she is beautiful is as useless as saying that fishes live in the ocean. It was, for the both of them, an unspoken agreement.

Outside it was different. Shizuru slowly walks beside him, hand clasped with his. Sometimes Haruki feels that there is not much between them other than their body parts entwined. He looks down on her hand and wishes they will remain entwined for eternity. He couldn't remember the first time Shizuru made it clear that her hair, as smooth as it was in his bedroom, is private. Something that defined her personal space in the outside world- even from him, the one person she would kiss and whisper: I love you.

So seeing Shizuru smile as Natsuki touches her hair to retrieve a fallen petal is unbearable.

Thank you Natsuki. She had said, dismissing the fact that Natsuki's hand lingered more that it was supposed to.

The girl gave out a small huff of dismissal. Natsuki, Haruki decides, is transparent. His grip tightens and Shizuru notices. She looks at him in question.

Shizuru, he says, let's go home.

--

a/n: unfinished fanfics are sad.