A/N: Sorry about the long, unintended hiatus! Apart from starting and finishing a second degree, I've also been going through writer's block so I apologize in advance for the following chapter - it's kind of a rehash of one of my favourite episodes of Honey and Clover. Thank you for reading!

Wishful Thinking

by xArcherx

Chapter 11: Nomiya

He hadn't felt pain in a long time. He had almost forgotten what it felt like.

It was like rediscovering an old part of him he had buried years ago: the little boy who had cried silently into his pillow while the voices outside had grown louder and louder. The shrieking and the swear words. The spiteful jabs in public. They were all coming back to him.

He relished the pain. It was like waking up from a long dream. He felt both like himself and yet, not quite the same. He felt more unhinged as he purposefully prodded and poked this new wound that had grown over the last few months.

"I'm starting to get a sense of it," he had told her. And he really was. He could only watch while she clung on to someone else, even as she desperately tried to let go. He could understand why she didn't want to let go. He didn't, either.

He surprised himself with his candour. He was usually not quite so honest with himself. That's why he had always needed Miwako – she gave him the push in the right direction.

We all needed a little help sometimes, didn't we?

It was Miwako who had suggested that he stay in Tottori for a while, while she managed things in Tokyo. It was not like her to ask him to back down from a fight but perhaps she could see he was on the losing side. He had felt her worried eyes on him whenever he had found it harder than usual to put on a façade.

He breathed in the salty air. The waves were gentle today, almost as if they knew he needed the calm.

"Thinking about Yamada again?" Yamazaki kicked off his shoes and sat down beside him.

"Miwako's powers rubbing off on you?"

Yamazaki chuckled. They watched the waves in silence. "You have that look again. You only ever get that when you're thinking of her."

"What look?"

"That tired look."

He rolled his eyes. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm running a business. It's not exactly a piece of cake."

"You love what you do." Yamazaki buried his feet in the sand. "And yes, it occasionally tires you out. But it doesn't hurt you."

"Well, you know what it's like." There was no point in denying anything. If he could be honest with himself, he could be honest with Yamazaki. "It's hard not to think of her from time to time."

"Of course. But I don't understand why it makes you so apprehensive."

"Apprehensive?"

"When you think about her, it doesn't just hurt you. It doesn't just tire you. It scares you." Yamazaki turned to look at him in the eye. "Why?"

Yamazaki had never really concerned himself with what had transpired between him and Yamada. Miwako had always been more invested. To say that it was a bit of a surprise to have him hit the nail on the head was an understatement. He was completely caught off guard. "You know, Yamazaki, I really don't give you enough credit sometimes."

He laughed. "Are you going to answer my question?"

"Why wouldn't I be scared?" He looked down at his fingers and sighed. "I don't want to hurt her."

"I thought so." Yamazaki dusted the sand off his pants. "This is what I have never understood about you. Why does loving someone mean hurting them?" He was taken aback once again. "When I think about Miwako, I don't worry that I'm going to hurt her. I think about how happy I would be if we were together. What is the point of love if it doesn't make you happy?"

He had an excellent point, of course. Nomiya got up. "I'm going to head back to the office. But—" he paused, unsure of the new Yamazaki smiling up at him. "—you've given me a lot to think about."

Love had equated hurt to him, for the longest time. Isn't that why he avoided it? He had felt enough pain as a child—enough for a lifetime, or so he had assumed. But maybe he had just felt a little too sorry for himself.

His parents had not had an amicable divorce and he was completely out of touch with his mother. He had told himself that it was not a huge loss. His father had been enough. Nevertheless, growing up with a single parent had had its effect. He had watched his father struggle to be a good parent while battling his own demons. Asking someone, who is in no position to think about anyone but himself, to be responsible for another human being had seemed unfair. Even at that young age, Nomiya had understood the injustice of it.

But his father had done his best and Nomiya could not be more grateful. Things could have been worse.

Perhaps it was time to stop being so afraid.

But then he thought of her in that oversized jacket, breathing in someone else's scent and smiling beatifically, unaware in her happiness that she was hurting him. He thought of her in her grief, pleading with him to let her be, her tortured face still beautiful and ethereal.

He thought of her and he couldn't let go.

No, he needed time. He needed more time. He was not going to change overnight.

But, he was not an idiot. He knew he could not keep running away forever. Someday, he would have to learn to move on. But for now, he was content to think of her and imagine what his life would be like if Mayama did not exist. He was allowed a little denial, after all.

And he might have taken longer to snap out of it if she had not decided to do something completely idiotic.

"Nomiya-san?" He barely registered the surprise in her voice, more bothered by the formality. Had she forgotten that just weeks ago, she had ruined his shirt with her runny mascara? How could you be that comfortable around someone and go back to treating them as if they were a stranger? "How are you? It's been so long!"

He considered saying something snarky, but her cheerful tone momentarily rendered him speechless. She was hurting and determined not to show it. He smiled, despite himself. She had not changed as much as she had hoped she would. "I'm good. How are you? I hear you're working for Harada Designs now."

"Oh, yes. Harada-san asked me if I could help her. How could I refuse? It was a great opportunity!" She still sounded cheerful, but he knew better. "And I don't regret it, one bit. I've been learning so much! It's been a lot of fun, working with Mayama. Do you know he's a big snoop?" She lowered her voice conspiratorially. He fought the urge to snap at her. "I found him going through Harada-san's search history! Oh and guess what? I had these really great ideas for my father's liquor store. I'm thinking—"

He let her ramble on, in that bright, cheery tone. He did not trust her words, not for a minute. 'Why would you put yourself in this position?', he wanted to ask her. 'Why run to the one place that would hurt you the most?'

"So," he said, when she paused for breath. "You're okay?"

"Oh, of course! Don't worry about me." Her immediate response only confirmed his suspicions. "I'm having a wonderful time. This is just a great learning experience for me. I, um—" she stumbled for a moment and it tore him. "I'm fine."

"Well, I'm glad to hear it. I was just checking—"

"Oh Nomiya-san I really must go. It's been a lovely surprise but I'm afraid I've got a lot of work. It was so nice of you to call and we must definitely meet again soon. Sorry to cut you off, Nomiya-san. Take care. And don't worry about me. Good bye!"

Her voice cracked at the farewell and it was enough. He grabbed his car keys. "Stupid girl." He murmured, as he put on his coat. "But you're the real idiot here, aren't you, Nomiya?"

It was nine hours to Tokyo. For a brief second, he considered stopping to think about his decision. But the image of her sobbing uncontrollably was more than tempting. She had given him a taste of what it was like to be her saviour and he was hooked.

"You've got to be kidding me." He was beyond exhausted. And beginning to deeply regret his decision. "You did what?"

"I put her on a train to Tottori." Miwako was defensive. "I'm sorry! How was I supposed to know you were on your way here?"

"It was a last-minute decision." He muttered, running a hand through his hair.

"Well, you could have called once in the last nine hours to let me know."

"And risk a lecture from you? No thanks."

"Look, there's nothing you can do now. Just crash here tonight. I'll call Yamazaki and let him know. I'm assuming you didn't tell him you were leaving."

"Like I said, it was a last-minute decision." He was painfully embarrassed. What had possessed him? He was never this impulsive.

"She should be back in a day. Just stay put and you'll see her soon enough."

"No." He was not going to wait a whole day to see her. "Have Yamazaki make sure she doesn't leave. I'm going back."

"Right now? Are you crazy?" Leader joined Miwako in looking at him incredulously. "You've been driving for nine hours straight. There's no way you can make the journey back right away."

"I took a couple of breaks and I'll take some more on the way back." He checked his pockets for his belongings. "Right, I'm off."

"Nomiya, what has gotten into you?" Miwako had her hands on her hips, which was always a bad sign. "You're going to be dead on your feet by the time you make it back. Why aren't you being sensible about this?"

He turned to look at her. "Never mind that. What I'm interested in is finding out why you sent her to Tottori. Weren't you the one who suggested I 'move away' till things settle down?"

For the first time in a very long time, Miwako looked guilty. "I know what I suggested, Nomiya. I had invited her over for Leader's birthday party and—I just could not stand the look on her face. The poor girl is hurting so badly that she doesn't even bother to hide it." She looked down at her feet, her cheeks red. "I'm sorry. I just thought it would be nice for her to see you again."

"So making her feel better was worth hurting my feelings?"

"I figured you wouldn't mind." She still couldn't quite look him in the eye. "To be honest, I thought spending a day in each other's company would help you both remember what it's like to be with each other. And maybe that would lead to—"

"No." He knew where she was going with this and he couldn't bear to hope. "It's not going to lead to anything. She's not going to fall out of love with him so easily and I'm going to have to accept that."

"None of this is easy. It's never going to be easy. But you're willing to wait." She paused. "Aren't you?"

"Not right now, I'm not." He checked his pockets for his keys. "Make sure Yamazaki keeps her there, no matter what, for the next nine hours."

He had come so close to seeing her. He had felt that giddy, nervous excitement gripping him as he had neared Tokyo. It had been so long. The thought of seeing her in person, of breathing in her presence—it was too hard to ignore.

"Oh, thank God you're back." Yamazaki looked thoroughly bedraggled. "It's taken everything I have to keep her here. The number of places I've taken her—honestly, if this business thing doesn't work out, I'm confident I can get a job as a tourist guide anywhere in the world." He paused to take a good look at him. "You look like you're going to faint."

"Driving five hundred miles back and forth will do that to you." It took him an entire minute to get up a short flight of stairs leading to his apartment.

Yamazaki was feeling quite chatty. "Nomiya, I know I say a lot of profound things, but please don't ever make me do this again. You know how deeply uncomfortable I get around girls—well, except Miwako—it's all got to do with the all boys' boarding school I went to."

"I know." He almost breathed a sigh of relief when they reached his door. "Thanks for taking care of her. I've got this now."

"All right. She's still gunning to leave so you're going to have to convince her to stay. I'll see you later."

The exhaustion was driving him insane. He opened the door and stepped inside. She was waiting for him, just mere inches away from the door, her stance defensive. For a moment, he felt the same giddy excitement of finally seeing her again but it was quickly extinguished by her words.

"Oh." Her cheeks flushed red. "Nomiya-san. I was just about to leave."

He could feel the indignation rising inside of him. He didn't drive almost a thousand miles so she could leave the moment they were both in the same room. But he was in no mood to argue. He moved towards her with purpose and took her hand. She was too shocked to protest. He proceeded to lower himself on to the living room sofa, his fingers still firmly curled around her wrist.

"Um, Nomiya-san—"

"Stay." That was all he could manage.

The morning light was inviting but he frowned at it. There was a blanket draped over him and his glasses were lying on the coffee table next to the sofa. As he reached for them, he noticed a figure stirring on the floor next to him.

The familiar light brown hair was visible beneath the comforter.

She turned to her side, the comforter barely covering her long legs. With anyone else, he would have appreciated the view but with her, he found himself quickly averting his eyes. At that moment, she was particularly alluring, but he felt the familiar feeling of crossing a moral line whenever he found her desirable.

Why did it feel wrong to find her attractive? The question disturbed him. Was it because he found her too young? He was sure she had never been with a man before. Did that make him nervous, in some way? Or perhaps he thought he was taking advantage of her innocence by entertaining immoral thoughts about her.

Despite the amount of introspection he had been doing in the last few weeks, he was not ready to delve into the aftermath of that feeling right away. He focused, instead, on the fact that she had woken up at some point during his mute soliloquy and was standing in front of him, looking both sleepy and appealing at the same time.

"Would you like some coffee?" That was a good enough ice-breaker as any.

She declined, wrinkling her nose at the smell. "Nomiya-san, I have overstayed my welcome. I ought to be getting back. I have a very important deadline coming up."

He patiently sipped his coffee while she blathered on about the amount of work she had. His continued silence provoked her into an abrupt halt, and she stared at him rather apprehensively, waiting for him to speak.

He took his time, enjoying the anxiety spread across her face. She was uncomfortable. He preferred that. It might have been too much to take if she had been imperturbable. "Let's go see the sand dunes."

"I'm—I'm sorry?"

"The sand dunes. They're very pretty. Well, pretty isn't the right word. They're. . .interesting. And how often are you in Tottori?" She stuttered, even though it was a rhetorical question. "So you shouldn't miss the chance to see them while you're here."

She voiced her concerns, rather weakly, and he continued to speak over her. It irritated her immensely—he could tell from the way her eyes lit up—but she seemed determined not to let her temper rise.

He was ready to take on that challenge.

She had yelled at him, accused him of being heartless, confided in him and cried on him. He had held her in his arms, taking pleasure in the closeness despite the melancholic setting. Was he the only one who ever thought of that night? She had come to him in the middle of the night to prove that she was brave enough to admit who she was. Had that been simply been a temporary deviation from her natural tendency to avoid confrontation?

He had to find out. If he was going to commit to fight for her, whenever that might be, he had to know she was worth it. Which was why he was giving her the chance to show him she had meant who she had been that night.

"Why were you in Tokyo?" The question was direct, which suited him. Maybe something in the wind was changing her mind about being so meek.

"You want the truth?"

She looked at him quizzically. "Of course."

He took a deep breath. It was harder to say this to her than he could have ever imagined. "I came to see you."

She stilled, the wind conveniently whipping her hair across her face. But he could tell from her rigid posture that she had heard him; she had heard the truth in his words. He waited, his heart suddenly galloping, for her to blush bright and avoid meeting his gaze. Instead, she relaxed, grinned widely and said, "C'mon. Tell me the real reason."

The sudden weight on his chest seemed to physically drag him down. He opened his mouth to argue—to insist—but the words that fell out were just as traitorous. "Keep moving. We're getting closer to the dunes."

He had not expected her to vehemently deny what was right in front of her. He noticed the content smile on her face—she was relieved that he had not forced the truth on her. It angered him. Was she really so blind? Did she not know him at all? What had caused her to shut herself off from him completely?

'Fight for yourself, Yamada'. He prayed. 'Fight to keep me here.'

"You seem much better than the last time I saw you." He ventured. She might be failing his tests but he was going to keep them coming for as long as he could. She was bound to pass some of them. "I assume you're feeling better about. . .Mayama?"

She didn't flush at the name but it still disconcerted her. "Yes, I suppose I am. Thank you—for that night." She rubbed her nose. He understood that to mean she was uncomfortable. "It was nice of you to take care of me."

He nodded. He felt a sense of impending doom. He was fighting a losing battle. He turned away from her so she would not see the disappointment course through him but her hand on his sleeve stopped him in his tracks.

"I meant it." She murmured, her eyes for once on his. They were bright. "Nomiya—I don't know what else to say, except thank you. It helped. A lot."

"Then I'm glad." He smiled at her. She smiled back. Neither gesture seemed forced. The weight on his chest eased a little. "Yamada, I want to ask you something."

"I know what it is." She said, sighing deeply. "You want to know why I'm working at Harada Designs."

"Yes." He was equally relieved and confused by her sudden directness.

"It's all everyone's been asking me lately." She smiled, rather wearily. "Morita, Hanamoto-sensei, Miwako. Nobody seems to understand why I would do that to myself."

"Why did you do it?" He was impatient in his need to know. Was she trying to win back Mayama? Or was she trying to eliminate competition? What was her motive?

"I don't know." She shrugged, studiously avoiding his probing gaze. "How much longer before we see the dunes?"

She was playing him; she had to be. She was volunteering titbits of the truth to have him hoping and closing herself off when it got too real. He looked at her in mute agony, the cacophony of contradicting emotions tearing him apart. He was angry at being manipulated so, hurt that she refused to trust him, disappointed that she was avoiding the truth and loved the way she had turned him into a fool.

He had never before felt so human.

She met his gaze, squirming at the truth there. He let her see him, feeling oddly exposed as she hesitantly read the pain in his eyes. She breathed a long sigh. "You didn't deserve that. . ." She whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Then tell me."

She said nothing. They stood there, unmoving as the wind kicked up the sand and shrouded them in misty dirt. He knew she was searching for the right words and he waited.

When she spoke again, an eternity had passed. "I had something to prove. I had to prove that I was. . .strong. I did not want to be seen as the same Yamada who was too delicate to handle the truth. So I found out Rika needed some creative input and I signed up for it. She didn't seek me out. Despite how I feel about her, even I do not believe she could be that cruel." There was no quiver in her voice, no detectable emotion. It frightened him. "Mayama was against it, of course. He tried to convince me that it was a bad idea and I said, 'Why? Because I'm in love with you?' which was an excellent way to shut him up. A less diffident man would have answered that question but not Mayama. He was still too uncomfortable and guilt-ridden about my feelings for him." He could hear the power in her voice. He felt proud. "Convincing Rika didn't take that long. And now, here I am. Proving something."

"Do you feel strong?"

It was a simple question but he could see that it crushed her. Her voice cracked. "No." She shuddered, trying her hardest to hold back the tears. "He's so obsessed with her. He relentlessly intercepts her e-mails, her faxes, her telephone messages—not to control her, but to understand her. He found out she's going to Spain alone and he was furious that she didn't let him know." The words were out in a rush but he didn't miss any of them. "He confronted her about it—god, he was a different Mayama from the man I know. He was fighting for her so desperately. You should have seen the way he lit up when she finally told him he was coming with her too. So no, I don't feel strong. I feel just as pathetic as before—if not more—because what sort of an idiot puts herself in this position? What sort of a desperate moron watches the man she loves fiercely love another woman?" Her eyes were wet. She laughed, shakily. "Do you know why I was being so evasive with you? Because I told myself I wouldn't cry in front of you again. The only way to keep that promise was to not let things become personal. But—" she shook her head. "—you don't deserve that. Not after that night. Then again, do you deserve this? This endless cycle of stupidity and pain and god, I don't know why, but you always, always see me at my worst!"

He understood in that moment that loving her meant fighting the impulse to take her in his arms and kiss her when she was unabashedly honest. It meant watching helplessly from the sidelines, while she ran in circles. It meant holding her and taking comfort in the grief that would grip them both.

It was dark, bleak and terrifying.

He understood that he could not be her saviour right then, not when she wanted to be her own. He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. "I'm proud of you."

She had her back to him, but the sudden tremble in her posture was enough acknowledgement. "Let's head back." He said, with the same tenderness. "I can get you on the next train to Tokyo."

She did not say a word in the car, but he watched her with the familiar heaviness in his heart. She still had a long way to go. She had a lot more crying to do and he would be there for her. She was stronger than before, but not strong enough.

He was still proud of her.

"Thank you for these souvenirs." Her words were cheerful, even if her eyes were still red. She stepped onto the train. "Despite everything, I had a nice time today."

He breathed in deeply. Something had changed again between the two of them, just like it had the last time. He felt liberated. "This goes without saying but the next time you need a shoulder to cry on, don't hesitate to call."

The words surprised her. "But why?" She murmured. "Haven't you had enough?"

He didn't want to hide from her, not anymore. "Do you really want to know?"

The warning bell sounded. Last chance to get on the train. She visibly straightened, "Yes."

"Because I'm in love with you."

TADA! Hope you liked that one. Please review, even though I've been terrible at updating this story. And of course, a huge thank you to the reviewers:

Momo206: Still intend to finish this story! Thanks a lot for your detailed review and the suggestion. I'll try my best to incorporate it.

Sonzai Taz: Thank you so much, I appreciate how much you like the story! I definitely want to finish the story. :)

Miriae: Ah, you're too kind! I hope this chapter was up to the mark. Yeah, Nomiya isn't a major character in the anime so I have a little freedom to shift his character a little bit to my liking!

silvermaze18: I know right! That's why I like season 2, episode 3! It's almost entirely about them. Thank you for reviewing!

Yuyui Hume: Yep, he's my hero! I hope you still continue to read the story.

IHaveSoManyOTPs: Woah a second reading? That's soo cool! Thank you so much for taking the time to do that! I'm so happy you love the story.

Moochiedesu: I know I'm four years too late but I hope you still remember the story! Would love to hear from you again. Thanks for reviewing!

Corah: Sorry about that, will try my best to be more regular with updating!

KeyboardCritic: So nice to hear! Thanks for reviewing. :P