Lack of Butterflies and the Intimacy of a Romantic Act

"Escape test? Why did this date have to be a test of any kind? I barely test well without being secretly challenged!"

"Hehe, I got a little carried away. Sorry. When I heard was Fumi was working on a new section for her newest Experience Journal, I had to give her as much material as possible. I had to create a scenario that would create a lot of tension, and bring out your protective instincts. Unfortunately, Fumi went off script a bit," Kyoko said.

"I thought I'd be able to impress you by showing off my knowledge about the Scar-Red Ravager," Fumiko said, playing with the hair around her fringe.

“And this wasn't just about testing your decisiveness in a relationship either, Kenta. I figured Fumiko would be headstrong if she had prior knowledge of the plan, so I threw a curveball to really test her impatience,” Shun said, approaching Kyoko's left side.

"We had to rework the scenario and include Mr. Orihara to create a new twist at the last minute," Kyoko said, tapping the ceiling tile with her left foot.

"Fumiko can you at least tell me what this new section of your journal is," I asked, palming the middle of my face.

Fumiko swiveled her head back and forth between mine and Kyoko's gaze.

"Well, do you want to tell him," Kyoko asked.

Fumiko moaned in frustration and looked away from me, not quite ready to reveal what was behind the curtain. Writers were odd creatures like that it seemed.

Before he spoke with Kyoko again, Shun directed his gaze toward me and bowed in a forty-five degree angle in rapid succession.

“I once again apologize for giving you an unfair test. But after hearing about your last date, I was determined to help you two get together.”

“So I'm finally a winner, huh,” I asked, curling both my lips and my eyebrows into a self-satisfied smile.

“That's my hope. Either that, or Fumiko will be looking for the rest of her life for love.”

The intentional pause and the stiff upper lip made it really hard to gauge his intent with that statement.

“Kenta, I was joking,” Shun said, locked into his previous expression.

“You know, it’s hard to tell with your dry delivery.”

“What dry delivery?”

After I took a few moments to regain my composure, I felt a slight tug on my shirt.

"I know that we shouldn't have tricked you, but did you at least enjoy your gift," Fumiko asked.

"My gift?"

It's just then that I remembered the Yuta Hachimura card that appeared like it was fresh out of the pack. Ah. My heart. She really did this for me after hearing me mention being on a basketball team just once. It was just then that I covered my eyes with my hand so Fumiko couldn't see them.

"Kenta, are you okay? Was the gift that bad?"

I ensnared my arms around her and tried to hold back my sobs. This sudden movement naturally caused her to backpedal a few steps.

She rustled her fingers through my hair and embraced me with her remaining hand.

"I'm happy you like the gift, Kenta. Really, I should've given it to you on the 'first date'."

"How did you get this, Fumiko-san?"

"Well, the story isn't that interesting, sadly. Hayato bought packs of basketball cards and one of the cards was a foiled Yuta Hachimura card. He said he already owned a copy, so he gave the new one to me."

"Thank you, Fumiko-san. Even with this mad-hatter escape test, this was the best gift ever!"

***

Our celebration was short. An adult couple passed through the door. One was a middle-aged man in a business casual outfit, a simple marine-blue polo shirt and beige khaki pants with black dress shoes, and the other was a woman who wore a white lab coat over a baby blue blouse, black sweatpants, and spectacles that further emphasized her glare with their reflective tint.

The middle-aged man sighed, trying to ward his partner off with his hand on her shoulder, but she wrestled herself away and grunted under her breath, approaching Fumiko and stopping just a few steps short of her.

"Fumiko, what is all this?"

"Why do you assume it was my fault," Fumiko asked.

"But you were still involved, right?"

Fumiko twiddled her fingers, a toddler caught in the act.

"Yes."

The woman shifted her gaze to Kyoko and scoffed.

"Kyoko. Why am I not surprised? And what is Mr. Orihara doing here? Did you rope him into another one of your crazy schemes?"

"It's nice to see you again, Ms. Kotonoha. I think I might have a serious condition that I might need you to check out. I'll be sure to tell my parents to schedule an appointment with you later."

She tried to slip through the main entrance, Shun conspicuously following close, but the two were both stopped by a booming masculine voice.

"Stop right there, you two," the middle-aged man in the blue polo said.

The couple stood at attention, Kyoko and Shun plastering a forced smile with their backs ramrod straight.

"Shun, tell me what's going on here in as few words as possible," he said, pointing at him.

"Uh... Fumiko made a new friend. Kyoko had a plan to help her. We all suffered."

"Okay, you're free to go. And Kyoko, we won't tell your parents this time, but you really need to dial down your wild streak around Fumiko."

"Got it, sir," Shun said, saluting while dragging Kyoko with his interlocked hand and doing an about face and disappearing behind the automatic doors.

"And you," the man turned around and approached me.

"What is this about being a new friend of Fumiko's," he continued.

"Oh. Where do I start," I asked myself, scratching the top of my head.

***

It was my good fortune after we got back into the comfort of Fumiko's apartment, that Fumiko's father's mood improved. As it turned out, he was dealing with a particularly frustrating client that wanted last minute changes to his novel, which caused him to run late on his way from home to pick up Ms. Kotonoha.

The chaos that Kyoko's plan created definitely didn't help the situation.

"Okay, so let me get this straight, mister Yamamoto, Fumiko approached you to learn about love, and as a result, you two have entered a fake relationship," Mr. Kotonoha said.

Fumiko's father hummed to himself and then nodded.

"Yeah, that sounds like my Fumiko, alright."

"Why did you say that as if you pitied Kenta, dad," Fumiko asked, clutching her knees.

"I mean nothing by it, dear. You've always been a hopeless romantic. I'm just happy that you found a friend that's patient enough to help you with your quest as a writer."

Fumiko juggled her legs, her folded legs banging against each other like a metronome.

"I mean, it's more than just my writing," Fumiko said, her pale cheeks suddenly lit with color.

"Yeah. I forgot about that. Well, that's something that's best discussed with Kenta," he said.

"Are you really okay with this, dad?"

"Why wouldn't I be? You're nearly a grown adult already making your own money, while also maintaining good grades. I trust you to make the right decisions, Fumiko."

"Wait, what is he talking about, Fumiko-san?"

"Kenta, I want to show you something I've been working on," Fumiko said.

She dangled one arm behind her back, gripping it with her other hand. Her breaths became more labored, her gaze now glued to the carpet around her. It wasn't just her cheeks that were red, now her whole body was flushed pink.

Was Fumiko actually nervous right now?

"We should probably go to your room, then. Just to show the proper respect to Mr. Kotonoha," I said, interlacing my fingers into hers.

"Yeah, about that, there are still limits for teenagers like you," Mr. Kotonoha said, giving me a piercing stare from the corner of his eye.

I nodded like an idiot and took Fumiko to her room.

The two of us sat down on her bed, her bedsheets rustling and shifting as I tried to edge myself closer to her. It just occurred to me that if we were practicing for a real relationship, that we should at the least become comfortable with being physically close to each other.

Fumiko was still speechless, her lips tightly grafted shut. For whatever reason, she was no longer comfortable with me directly staring at her.

If she didn't feel any physical sensations like butterflies, why was she so nervous now?

"So what did you want to show me, Fumiko-san," I asked, beaming at her.

"Oh, right. The new section," she said.

Fumiko awkwardly vaulted herself off the bed, nearly planting her face on the ground. She snatched a notebook on her desk like she was playing a quick time event, and then she handed the book to me and sat a few centimeters further away from me.

"Remember when I said I wanted to turn the page on our relationship," Fumiko asked.

"Yeah?"

"Well, I wanted to get as much information from our practice dates as possible. I don't want to repeat our 'first date' again and mess everything up."

"Fumiko-san, our date wasn't perfect, but I don't think it was a mistake."

"That's a relief, but I feel like we have a long way to go."

I looked through the new section she wrote in the notebook. It simply said 'Love' at the top of the heading of the most recent page. I turned back the pages until I found the title on the first page.

The header read 'Friendship'.

My head did a double take at the title. I had no idea what to make of this.

"Fumiko-san, are we friends?"

"Yes," she said, a slight warble in her voice.

"Do you love me, yet, Fumiko?"

"...not yet."

"Oh, I see."

"But I want to."

"So how do we fix that? We can't be friends and lovers," I said, my cheeks matching the flush that managed to spread all over her body.

She leaned in close to me, holding on to my back to balance herself.

"Since its the end of the date, and we've gotten to know each other, shouldn't we act more like a couple and try to kiss each other at least once?"

"You don't sound certain that you want to do it."

"I'm not."

"I thought you didn't get butterflies."

"That doesn't mean I don't get embarrassed, Kenta. Physical actions mean nothing to me, but the intimacy of the act, a symbol of a couple's love, it really embarrasses me."

I shut up and just let my actions do the talking. The action was the only thing my brain was able to process in that moment. I tilted my head, closed my eyes and leaned in.