everything i let go of has claw marks on it

“Cheers!”

Six glasses clink together at once, slightly off-time. Beer sloshes over the rims, dampening the napkins and the edge of the table. Nao and Kaori laugh loud enough to turn even the heads of the regulars, who give them knowing grins before turning back.

They're at their usual place: familiar and well-loved, it hasn't changed much in Hakaze's eyes since Eclipse first stepped foot in here ten years ago. Which, in its own way, means that it has changed a lot: it's well-maintained, and Teacher's eye for standards and trends means that the menu's bigger and better.

At the newest outburst of noise, Teacher gives them a look of fondness mixed with exasperation from behind the bar. Hakaze nods and grins.

Hakaze sinks into the bench next to Harua, bickering lazily. Yuta is listening to them with his face cupped in his hand, eyelids lowered and sleepy; he interjects only when the argument turns too ridiculous, like when Harua claims he can outdrink Hakaze.

"Let's be reasonable," he says, in his deep, sensible voice. "You can't honestly believe you can outdrink the woman who gave you your first beer, Harua."

Hakaze blinks. "Oh my god, Ren told me about that! I can't believe I forgot. That was your first? Weren't you a delinquent at school?"

"He wasn't a delinquent, he was just dumb."

"Hey," Harua protests. 

"Drinking a lot isn't much better than being dumb, so you have nothing to worry about," Ren says, prissily. 

Nao snorts. "Neither is being so down bad you go out with this trainwreck, holy shit, dude." She points at Hakaze with her beer. Hakaze sneers and she sneers back.

"Don't be mean," Kaori says, plaintive. "Hakaze's a catch, she has plenty of good qualities! She's really stubborn, and a really sore loser."

"Thanks, Kaori."

“She also hit me when I apologized for a misunderstanding.”

“Truly, that’s not what happened,” Hakaze says warily, but Nao and Kaori are cackling like hyenas and dragging him to the bar to ply him with more drinks. She calls, bitterly, “If he breaks up with me after this I'm keying your car, Nao!"

Ren half-turns, even caught in the current of Nao and Kaori. "Don't worry, Hakaze," he says, warmly. He's skin is flushed and his hair is mussed, and he looks like a wish Hakaze doesn't even remember making come true. "You've been terrible to me since day one, nothing they tell me can make me change my mind."

"Damn," Hakaze mutters. "Maybe I should break up with him."

“You shouldn’t,” Yuta tells her, and when Harua makes a few gestures to the contrary next to him, he amends. “Well. I don’t think you should. Good job landing Ren, he’s very handsome.”

“He is, isn’t he,” Hakaze says, with grim satisfaction. “Oh, we should have reminded them to get more snacks for the table, we're almost out."

Yuta rises fluidly. “Let me get it, I need to go to the restroom as well. Please don’t plot anything while I’m gone.”

Hakaze snorts, and waves him off. She traces the rim of her glass, humming under her breath and watching him stumble towards the rest of the noisy bar, leaving Hakaze and Harua in a pocket of comfortable silence. He cuts the last gyoza in half and they make identical grossed-out expressions when they taste the vegetables.

Her phone buzzes. 

It was called Guilty Pleasure and you nearly hit the bartender for hitting on me. 

Then: Harua Nagasaki even looks like you, it's uncanny.  

She sighs. Trust Reina to spot the shape of her affection, even from miles away. 

A final message hits the chat: I miss you. 

Hakaze doesn't reply yet. She can't quite think of what to say, that would cover the awful breadth of, I'm sorry. I hope you're sorry too. Sorry for expecting you to be sorry. Neither of us did anything wrong. 

Instead, she types: wanna go get spiked milkshakes again sometime?

She puts her phone away before Reina can respond. Her heart is still doing soft tumbles when Harua clears his throat.

“I feel like I should admit that I lied to you."

She hums questioningly. 

“Well. Not lie, exactly. But I let you think I had a girlfriend.”

This stops her in her tracks. The first thing that comes to her mind is amazement. Had he come up with this whole thing as an elaborate ruse for PR? In that case, it’s so crazy that she respects it.

But then, she sees where his eyes linger, and blinks, rapidly. “Oh.” She smiles, so sick of his bullshit, still fond. “You never did say girlfriend, did you.”

It’s such a Hakaze move she’s mostly just proud. It quickly dissolves into syrupy fondness, because when Harua laughs, it's loud and bright but also nervous.

“I was so sure Ren would tell you.”

“He'd never,” Hakaze shakes her head. “Did you really think he’d out you to the company?”

“I didn’t, not really. But he never talks to me about that stuff, and I was too chickenshit to ask.”

“So you thought you’d outsource.”

“I thought I’d matchmake, inflict both pains in my ass on each other,” he corrects. “You’re really not mad?”

She reaches across the table and touches his hand. “I’m proud as fuck, actually. Yuta seems like a nice kid.”

A grin splits his face, easy and bright, as well as a touch of wonder. He says, “You didn’t even know, huh. You did all that, thinking I just wanted to date on a whim.”

She doesn’t know how to put it into words that don’t sound painfully honest, so she gives up trying. “I did it because you deserve it. Leaders have a rough time of it, don't we? You're watching everyone's back, but if you don't ask for help, no one's really watching yours. So I was happy to watch your back, Harua. Even if you are a little shit."

Her gaze gets snapped, magnetically, to Ren, who’s walking towards their table with a slightly concerned expression. 

“God knows this one isn’t gonna pick up on the signs,” she says, when Ren holds his hand out, imperiously, to be held. She grabs it with both of hers, and Ren looks delighted, looking at Harua conspiratorially like he’d gotten away with something.

“She’s mean because she cares,” Ren tells Harua, in a loud whisper that she probably isn’t supposed to hear. He's slurring over his words a little, almost lisping. 

“Untrue,” she says, fondly. His cheeks are so red, and when she touches them, as hot as a furnace. “I’m mean because someone needs to tell you you’re a disgrace, Prince. How bad of a lightweight are you?”

“Your friends are scary,” he complains, leaning against her. “Kaori challenged me for her approval for our relationship. I wanted to--” he hiccups. “I wanted them to like me.”

“Then I better challenge her for a rematch,” she says. She peers into his glassy eyes, and because he’s intolerably cute, kisses his burning forehead. “I’m going to go get you some water, okay?”

He slips an arm around her waist when she attempts to move. “Okay,” he says, softly. “In a bit.”

Distantly, she’s aware that Harua is laughing at them. She can't even find it in herself to be mad: her heart swells, full, overspilling.

“Okay,” she finds herself agreeing. “In a bit.”

END