#hayuko

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His target moves into sight.

At last. He moves into his final check of the night.

Step one. High ground? The corners of his mouth turn up as he pats the balcony trellis next to him. Check.

Step two. Lose robe? His smile grows as he first slips the hood of his cloak off his head, then shrugs out of the robe altogether. Check.

Step three. Unsuspecting victim? By now, his smile’s become a full-on grin as he takes the plunge into his future. Check!

Two somersaults and a nice tight roll later—he’s going to have to thank Yuki and Kyo for their help later, and then make sure they know to never speak of it again—and he’s safely on his knees in front of his target.

One second, two to collect himself, then he moves seamlessly into the final stage of his totally-not-over-the-top plan, swooshing his hair (totally not on purpose) while whisking out the special little box he’s been saving for this day and presenting it to the woman he loves.

“Hello there,” he says, grinning as he—finally!—manages to pull off something Obi-Wan Kenobi style.

Mayuko gapes at him, then at the ring, then back at him for a few seconds, mouth working but no sound coming out. Then her knees buckle, and she collapses in a dead faint.

“MAYU???!” he shouts, tossing the ring box to the side as he rushes over to her.

*

Later—much, much later—they’re able to laugh at that story, especially once they see the incredulous expression on their daughter’s face when she first hears just how her dad proposed to her mom (..and how her mom reacted). Mayu ruffles their daughter’s hair playfully, grinning. “Relax, kiddo. After he was done panicking, your papa found the ring box again, helped me recover from my fever and work stress, and celebrated my saying ‘yes’ (once I was better, of course!) by having a Star Wars marathon!”

Their gazes meet above their daughter’s head, and they exchange soft, fond smiles. He’s relieved to see that his wife is no longer embarrassed by that story and has gained the strength and confidence to laugh at it instead. “So you see, it all worked out in the end,” Hatori smugly smoothly says.

Kinu responds by burying her face in her hands. “My parents are absolute dorks,” she groans to no one in particular.

“Yep!” Mayu exclaims, chuckling when Kinu groans again.

“And proud of it,” Hatori adds, swooping in to leave a kiss on his wife’s cheek and clasping her and Kinu’s—their daughter’s—hands in his. He looks around Kinu’s bedroom, at the decorations and photos and gifts lining the blue-green walls, and smiles. Freedom. Happiness. Love. He now knows what each of those feels like, and he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Operation: Hello There—success.

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This took me a while, so I’m happy I finished it! XD The scene itself felt a little short, so I tacked on the bit at the end. Hope you liked it! *bows*

* * * * *

He hasn’t done this in a long time.

Relaxing enough to get drinks after work, taking a girl out to eat, heck, spending time alone with a girl in general… he’s trying, hoping, praying to do this properly, because Mayuko more than deserves it, but most days it seems like he’s a rusty, disjointed old robot just going through the motions of dating getting to know someone of the opposite sex again. Stiff. Awkward. Like this car ride.

Thank goodness, he thinks as he pulls in to a parking spot in front of the restaurant at last. Finally, the terribly long car ride will be over. (Little does he know that Mayuko is thinking the exact same thing.)

However, they’re fine once they’re inside, when there are other conversations and people to serve as buffers and when there’s music playing in the background upon which they can comment. In fact, Mayuko has already begun swaying to the beat of the most recent piece to come on. The soft, easy smile on her face dazzles him, momentarily transporting him two years back in time, when she explained why she valued her friendship with Kana so much (odd, he muses, that he doesn’t feel the familiar pain in his chest at the thought of his first lover).

“Do you know this piece?” Mayuko asks, and with a blink, he’s back in the present. He shakes his head.

She gazes past him into the distance, still smiling. Internally, Hatori marvels, wishing he had a camera to record this moment (in particular her expression) forever. Very rarely—or at least, so it seems—is the schoolteacher like this, calm and happy at the same time. “It’s French, by Camille Saint-Saëns,” she patiently explains, unconsciously falling back into schoolteacher mode. (He doesn’t call her out on it.) “It’s called Le Cygne, meaning The Swan. Ahh, they chose such a beautiful recording!! I wish I knew who was playing… but anyway,” she said, shaking her head at herself, “this was my favorite piece to play in college, and one of the only ones I could actually play half-decently.”

Hatori’s head shoots up. “You play the cello?”

“What, don’t think I’m skilled enough to play an instrument?” she shoots back, but with far less bite than he would have expected. Hatori raises his eyebrows as she takes a sip of her drink, then continues despite the perceived insult (that he didn’t actually intend). Her smile’s a little sadder now, and there’s a melancholic glint in her eyes. “But in a way, you’re right. I don’t play anymore. I haven’t even touched my cello in years, what with teaching and looking after the shop more often.” She falls silent, gaze directed downwards at the table now, and for just a moment he catches a glimpse of it—a heavy, aching loneliness that grows until it’s practically suffocating—and he can’t stand it, seeing someone else struck by the same affliction he has, and he has to stop it, must help somehow—

“Will you play for me sometime?” he asks, and wow, that is not what he was expecting to come out of his mouth. Judging by her widened eyes, she wasn’t expecting that either.

It appears that he and Mayuko have malfunctioning brain-to-mouth filters in common as well, for she says, “I’d love to,” then blushes furiously, adding, “I mean! I’d have to practice for at least a bit again, and-and I dunno if you’d prefer I learn something new, or—”

“Mayuko,” he stops her, taking her hands in his and smiling fondly at her. A cellist’s hands…I never would have known.

“Yes?” she breathes. It’s hard to think properly, with him holding her hands(!) and directing that marvelous, soft smile right at her(!!)—

“You do whatever you want to prepare, alright?” He punctuates his statement by gently running his thumb over her knuckles. It seems to work, as her blush dies down and her muscles relax. Hmmm….I’m going to have to experiment more with this, he notes, smiling.

“Okay,” she says quietly. And that’s that.

They spend the rest of dinner talking about what activities he did at school (“Okay, chess club I can totally see, but debate club?” Mayuko asks. “No way!”) and about classical music, which he now considers Mayuko’s second greatest love after books (“Wait, but Betahoffen—” “No no no, it’s Beethoven, haha! Heh, heh—sorry, continue—” “At any rate, if I heard correctly, he became deaf at some point, but he was still composing music? How is that possible?” “Ah, now that’s one of my favorite stories ever! One day…”).

Later, after he’s dropped her back off at her place and they’ve exchanged goodbyes and she’s closed the front door behind her, he brings a hand up to his cheek, where she kissed him good night. Perhaps, he thinks, smiling, even an old dragon like him can learn new tricks.

His cheek’s still tingling, even a few minutes later, when he finally gets back into his car.

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Thanks to @hideriame and @ultramayuko19870 for your support and fellow approval of Hatori x Mayu!! (I haven’t forgotten about Obi Snark Master Kenobi! :3 That’s for #28, coming soon.) Inspiration from #27 of this set of July 2019 writing prompts (Rusty, New).