Spoilers for The Answer. Slightly AU. S.E.E.S has an extra day between the end of the Answer and their leave-taking.

Narita to Paris at 9am sharp. A car would be waiting for her a few hours before, and Mitsuru would take the others to their new homes before leaving Port Island for her first year of college. Mitsuru noted her bags, cleanly closed and lined all in a row at her door. Her eyes glided over the pieces of furniture covered with crisp white sheets and awaiting transport. The last minute items would be taken care of by the movers. There were only a few articles which Mitsuru did not pack.

Her eyes fell on the rosy hue of a dress hanging on her door.

Pink, Mitsuru had declared, is not a flattering color for me. Yukari had insisted, and was backed up in full force by Fuuka and Aigis. There wasn't a lot to be done when the three younger girls had pieced their money together and bought it for her as a farewell gift when she wasn't looking. Mitsuru accepted gratefully, the affection of the gesture far exceeding her pride.

She ought to wear it tomorrow.

Mitsuru looked at the surface of her dresser and smiled at the box of chocolates given to her by Junpei and Ken. They looked French, Junpei had said with a shrug. They had attempted to wrap the box (and had given up halfway, by all appearances). Amada had handed her a handmade magnet with an address printed on it in bright bold letters. It's the address of my school, he explained. Maybe I can learn French from your letters. Mitsuru had hardly contained her smiles.

There was nothing left to do now but say goodbye.

Mitsuru faced her bed.

Just for a few months, Mitsuru had reminded her friends. I fully expect to see you all this summer at the Kirijo Estate in Yakushima. Junpei's squealing response had drowned out the enthusiasm of the others. Her friends jubilantly chatted together and Mitsuru searched for Akihiko and found his eyes, gray and calm, staring back at her softly. With a quiet smile offered only to her, he turned away and jostled up the stairs.

Mitsuru glanced at the clock; she should be sleeping.

She went to the window instead, and after looking out over the skyline, found a light sweater and left her room in silence.

Arisato would have never let her live this down, Mitsuru thought wryly as she climbed the stairs to Naganaki Shrine. She was breaking the rules by sneaking out, but she was doing so on her very last night as a resident. Mitsuru silenced her thoughts, then. You give way too much credit to the past and future, Minato had said bluntly with a mouth full of takoyaki. Right here, right now, senpai. It's all you'll ever have.

Mitsuru's gaze lingered on the darkened trees as she stepped lightly to the swings. She sat down and a soft breeze collected a few strands of her hair before sending them dancing. The swing's chains made a light squeak as Mitsuru rocked on the balls of her feet, and she contented herself with the cool night air for a long time.

A warm set of fingers splayed against her back and Mitsuru stopped her movement in surprise.

"Need a push?"

Mitsuru smiled at her feet.

"Yes, please."

He obliged and pressed his hands to her back.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company? Insomnia?" Mitsuru asked.

Push.

"You nailed it."

Push.

"Was in the kitchen and saw you leave."

Push.

"So, I followed you," Akihiko said simply, and Mitsuru felt the warmth of his smile.

"I see," Mitsuru murmured.

The chains squeaked with Akihiko's timed pushes.

"Your flight's only a couple of hours away. You must be excited." His tone changed, but the gentle press of his hands stayed level.

"Mmm, I suppose. . . " she said evenly. "I'll miss you."

Mitsuru swung back, but instead of being pushed again, she felt Akihiko's hands pull her swing to a stop.

"Maybe that's not good enough for me." His voice shook against her back.

She turned to look up at him.

"I'll write you," she offered, a smile playing on her lips.

His head bobbed as he contemplated.

"Good enough for Ken," Akihiko decided, moving the chains in his hands.

"You are of course welcome to visit," Mitsuru tried.

He laughed.

"Better," he sat down on the swing next to her, "but still not good enough."

Mitsuru hummed and turned her eyes toward the trees dancing in the breeze. The two of them swayed together freely, looking up at the stars and naming all of the constellations they knew. After tiring of the swings, they took to sitting on the steps, sometimes talking, sometimes silent.

"I'm still hungry, you know," Akihiko said as they left the shrine, hand-in-hand. "And I don't think they have Wild-Duck Burger in Paris."

Mitsuru smiled as he nudged her gently.

They were alone on the train, and at some point Mitsuru dozed off against Akihiko's shoulder as their car rattled along. He squeezed her hand when they came to their stop. After ordering the greasiest burger on the menu (No, Mitsuru said icily, Minato's features falling melodramatically. I am absolutely not eating another grease encased burger, no matter how charming you claim them to be), they sat outside to eat. The sun began to rise and with it came a warm light, but Mitsuru still accepted Akihiko's jacket around her shoulders.

"I'll come to all of your matches, given enough warning in advance," Mitsuru offered at last.

Akihiko took a sip of his coffee as he squinted into the sun.

"All of them?"

Mitsuru nodded.

"That's a pretty serious commitment," Akihiko admitted, "but. . ."

She shook her head in disbelief.

"We should be getting back," she said finally. "The others will be waking up around now."

A golden band of light spread across Akihiko's skin as he turned to her.

"I'm still not happy with any of your offers, Kirijo-san," he said haltingly.

"You always have been difficult to please," she teased, hoping the irony of her words would give him some amusement. "What on earth could I say to meet such high expectations?"

He moved closer to her and tipped his head against hers.

"Come back," he whispered.

Mitsuru shivered as Akihiko's fingers touched her cheek.

"I will, you know I will. The company. . . and this summer we're going to-"

"To me, Mitsuru," he pulled his coat up around her neck. "Promise that you'll come back to me."

Mitsuru closed her eyes, the warmth of the sun finally sinking in.

"I promise."

The pink looked great on her, Akihiko reassured her. He quickly changed his mind and told her that it was Mitsuru who made the dress look great.

We spend a lot of time in our heads, I think. Minato had kept his hands in his pockets, had kept his eyes on the ceiling as they walked out of the dormitory. The limo was rolling away, and Mitsuru refused to wipe the tears from her cheeks. Sometimes it takes a little living outside the people we've made ourselves into to make us realize who we are.

She turned and looked out the rear window of the car, knowing he couldn't see her. He stood in the middle of the road, jacket slung over his shoulders. His eyes squinted at her, though, as if he knew exactly what she was doing.

"Are you all right, Kirijo-san?" the driver asked, his concerned eyes bouncing back at her from the rear view mirror.

Mitsuru nodded as the car turned a corner, nodded once her eyes tore away from the solitary figure behind her.

"I'm fine," she said kindly.