Akira's Pain, Akari's Love (Part 3: Embrace)

She held him. On their bed, she held him, as he shed silent tears, his head trembling by her neck, his body perched on her lap.

“S-Sorry,” he whispered.

“No,” Akari replied softly. “Please, Akira. Don’t hide your emotions from me.”

“B-But I’m only…”

“You are not causing me sadness. I promise you.”

“H-How?”

“It’s not your fault.” She kisses his cheek.

“My body is s-so—”

“Beautiful,” Akari uttered with an assertive, yet gentle passion.

“N-No,” Akira murmured, as if that were a dangerous thought.

Akari hugged his cheeks with her large, warm hands. “Answer me,” she whispered, gazing closely. “Why am I with you?”

“B-Because,” Akira murmured meekly, “you love me. Yet, I-I still can’t understand it. L-Loving my personality is one thing, but my body is not…”

“You’re so adorable,” Akari kissed his forehead. “And you’re a good man.”

“Those,” Akira muttered, “d-don’t go together. A man should not be cute. He should be—”

“Akira.”

Akira drifted his eyes away from her enamored, worried gaze.

“Akira, why are you with me?”

Akira gulped.

“Akira.”

Her loving urgency moved him to answer, if meekly. “Because I love you. Because you’re a good woman.” He then raised his voice, desperate to make his point. “But Akari! You can protect people! You’re strong! I can’t… Even though men must protect. That’s what we’re here for!”

“You do protect me,” Akari asserted.

“Y-You say that, but…” He shook his head. “You protect yourself.”

“I wouldn’t be happy without you!”

Akira gasped. Even though this wasn’t news to him, seeing her say it so bluntly was…

“I… I was not happy before I met you! For years, I was miserable!”

The two trembled, staring closely at each other.

“Protection doesn’t have to be about physical strength,” Akari pleaded. “Being supportive and loving—using emotional strength—is more than enough!”

Akira gulped at Akari’s tenacity. He blushed deeply, taking in her words. “I…” he started. “Akari…” He gave her a look that went beyond yearning.

Akari could not resist kissing him then and there.

With her lips on his, and her hand stroking his hair, Akira moaned nervously, still wondering if he deserved her affections. Yet, seeing just how adamant she was, Akira could not help but feel a certain sway towards self-acceptance, even if there was still so much more progress to be made.

Akari let his lips go, though remained very close. “Your parents,” she whispered, “are wrong. They’ve always been. You bring me peace, Akira. All I do is fight; is it not all I’m good for? And yet, when I protect you, you smile at me so widely, hug me so tenderly, thank me so sincerely. You’ve completely conquered my heart, Akira, and I’ve never been happier.”

Akira stared at her lovingly. “I… I can’t protect myself,” he said, trying to hold on to that fading hesitance.

“That’s okay. You’re a frail man. There’s nothing wrong with that. I wouldn’t want you to be any other way.” She kissed his lips once more, if only for a moment.

“You’re… an exception,” he muttered.

“And so are you for loving me.”

Akira’s fingers trembled as he held onto Akari’s arms. “A-Akari, I’m a weak coward. How can you say we’re the same?”

“You’re not a coward,” Akari replied.

Akira gulped once more, his eyes softening.

“Akira, you’ve endured years of abuse. It’s terribly difficult to share that story with anyone else, and yet, you did. Even if you didn’t, you’re still a survivor. You’re no coward.”

Akira found himself unable to refute her.

He was groomed into accepting toxic ideals. Men’s bodies… They must be strong. They must protect. They must dominate.

Or at least, he must be strong. He must protect, and dominate. He did not judge other men. He was just too kind to do so, and too meek.

And yet…

Why didn’t Akira want to share his story at first?

It was to protect Akari’s emotions.

Why did he eventually decide to share it after all?

It was to protect Akari’s emotions.

He was protecting her in his own way. He finally understood that. Though fully accepting it was another thing, the sway had grown ever stronger. And thus, he inched closer to her face, his girlfriend growing noticeably shyer with his approach, yet all the more enamored. He kissed her lips, with a certain hesitance that quickly became lost in the blizzard of love.

—

Later that night, Akira slept in Akari’s arms. It was typical for him to fall asleep first. Then, as she too came to rest, she could admire her beloved’s tiny, peaceful form as it enjoyed her soft warmth.

With every smile came some pain. Yet that pain was never because of him.

It was because of those who failed him.

A precious, beautiful, adorable man like him. Other men could not leave him alone. They could not tolerate a man strong in soul rather than body.

It was not his fault he never grew tall. It was not his fault he fell ill during his puberty. It’s not his fault he nearly died.

Yet those bastards made him believe it was.

It was beyond tragic.

And she was sure he thought the very same about her. She, who scorned herself as an undesirable monster of a woman. Six and a half feet in height, with broad shoulders and thick, muscular limbs, not to mention a strength even greater than one would expect from a glance at her intimidating body. What was “womanly” about any of that? Nothing, according to this world.

But that was wrong. A man could be frail, and a woman could be strong. A woman could protect her man with her strength, and a man could protect his woman with his heart.

Akari and Akira were okay.

As their relationship grew, they realized that more and more.

He was unbelievably precious to her. And she was absolutely invaluable to him.

That mattered far more than anything else.