Tokyo Color Sonic!! Special Story, Intermediate point—Iori x Haruhi

[odorekijin]

“And our KING, this year’s winners are… Unit.2, Takarada and Kaji!”

When the blinding spotlight shone down on us, my vision went blurry; I thought I was in the middle of a dream.

Less than a second passed before a tearful Haruhi jumped from my side into my arms: at the sudden contact, tears spontaneously fell from my eyes, and the heavy lump inside me slowly melted away.

My memory after that is pretty fuzzy. Truth is, I barely had room to think of the other members behind me—worse, I can’t even remember if I was able to catch Haruhi properly.

Breathless, that moment got my legs trembling, my head spinning.

For the first time, I realised that happiness can sorely prick the heart in ways beyond words. 

Haruhi and I have fulfilled our promise: we made our dream come true.

Already taking our next steps, we now have to go even further beyond.

* 

“Ioriii~ Just where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see, we’re almost there.”

It was a bright morning during the holidays, and the streets of Ikebukuro were bustling with people. Haruhi and I had left the dormitory for the station, enjoying a nice stroll along the way.

It has been two weeks since Color Sonic ended. This city, once dyed with the colours of the contest, has since settled down. Every store's windows were already dressed for Christmas to come. 

“So you’re going to keep your lips zipped until I see the real deal?”

“You could say that.”

“Oh, now that’s exciting!”

I was the one to suggest we take our breakfast somewhere else, to which Haruhi agreed to tag along. However, I purposefully omitted to tell him where, as a way to entertain some thrill.

Eventually, we stopped at one of the shops.

“Here we are.”

“...Wh-?”

In front of us stood a burger chain restaurant: barely reading the sign, Haruhi immediately looked back at me with a scowl.

His reaction was pretty understandable: that chain is in every corner of the country, nothing too extraordinary to run some sort of guessing game for.

　“Um, Iori-san.”

“Yes?”

“You wanted a hamburger?”

“Not really.”

“Yeah, right, of course. That makes sense.”

Naturally, he was perplexed. Haruhi is usually quite perceptive, so seeing that kind of expression on him was as priceless as it was amusing to me.

“Shall we go in?”

“...I guess.”

Once in the restaurant, we lined up at the cash register, and gave a quick look at the not-so-exceptionally original menu.

“What will it be this time?”

“Small fries and coffee.”

“So your usual, no surprise.”

“And you?”

“A large matcha shake.”

“Wow, life changing pick there Iori: your usual as well.”

* 

As soon as we sat down, Haruhi sighed, contempt.

“So? Why did the Iori-san bring me all the way here?

“I felt like it.”

“Haah?”

“Hm, you see, we used to come here all the time after class when we were in high school, remember?”

“We sure did.”

“And we would hang out for hours chatting about everything and nothing.”

“We even talked for seven hours straight once.”

“Yeah, and we would sometimes argue for some random reason.”

“Oh, yeah, right! Remember that time we had that little clash over what music was or something, but just ended up fighting?”

“Hm-hm, that was awkwardly odd.”

“Fufu, “awkward”, you don’t say.“

“Look, we were on the same page the whole time and still had that dispute.”

“Yeah, we were, but you absolutely hated the way I worded my point.”

“Do I need to remind you how many times you told me to "use my dumb brain" back then? Because I sure know.”

“No thanks! You even snapped back and told me I was making it aaall too complicated on purpose!”

“Because I really didn’t understand a single thing you were saying!”

“Man, that brings me back!”

Haruhi chuckled, a smile spreading from ear to ear.

The chitter-chatter around us, incredibly noisy to me some minutes ago, grew quieter.

“I thought we could hang out here today, you know, like we used to.”

“Hmm, not very Ioriesque of you, if you ask me.”

“Really? Is that strange?”

“Yeah, definitely. Did something happen?”

“Nothing, really, I just… I sort of wanted to go back where we began, so to say.”

“Fine by me, but I’m not going through the fighting arc again.”

“Do I still look like a pea-brained teen to you?”

After that, there was no way to stop us: from the food we were eating, childhood memories, new artists we were into or looked up to, to what living with the other members was like… Our conversation went on and on, without a single breather.

Haruhi seemed to ease off halfway through our chat, so much so that he got incredibly engrossed in his explanation, passionately sharing his every thoughts on song-making. I don’t think he was really paying attention to my answers in his excitement, actually—he ordered a second cup of coffee in the heat of the moment.

“I want to write this kind of song”, “I want to attempt this sort of arrangements”, “I’ve been thinking of new titles that’d definitely suit you, Iori, and——”

There was no premeditation, distrust or suspicion behind his gaze: just a spark in his eyes, translating his blazing desire to perpetually create.

Before me was the Kaji Haruhi I always knew and adored, and no one else. 

From an external point of view, that probably looked like any ordinary scene between friends, and frankly, I don’t think that breakfast changed much in the grand scheme of things either.

Still, all I wanted was to spend this kind of moment with Haruhi: I wanted to share this instant of my life with someone as down-to-earth as him.

Perhaps, that was also a way for me to find peace, some sort of reassurance before returning to Saitama—before leaving him.

* 

Night had already fallen by the time we exited the restaurant.

“Maaan, that was tons of fun—! Shoot, look, it’s already pitch black out there!”

“Oh, you’re right.”

“We hogged their seats for so long I’m preeetty sure the staff thought we’d stay overnight.”

“Truth is, we obviously were the typical annoying customers to them.”

“Hey, you’re the one who brought us here and got the conversation going, you know?”

“And you’re the one who got too excited and asked for seconds, Haruhi.”

“Ouch, touché—.”

Finding ourselves idly chatting once more, we slowly made our way back to the dormitory.

I felt good, oddly at ease, as though a weight lifted from my shoulders. 

“Iori.”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

“For…?”

Next to me, Haruhi looked as though he had finally found answers to questions of his own—a breakthrough behind his doubts.

“I’ll become stronger.”

I didn’t fully grasp what Haruhi meant—

“...I see.”

However, I felt that my simple answer was all he really needed to hear.

“So wait for me a little longer, deal?”

“Wait? Wait for what, exactly?”

“Hmm… Well, when the time comes, I’ll let you know about it, Iori.”

“...Alright, I understand.”

We only have a few weeks left before this life comes to an end. 

We are both aware that our time is drawing near. 

That's why I will treasure this day we spent in that burger restaurant, and I’m sure Haruhi will do so too.

“Let’s come back again.”

“Yeah, let’s.”

I don’t know when we will honour this promise.

However, that kind of uncertainty is more than welcome and needed, for us, right at this moment—it’ll just get a bit thornier down the road.

Through the highs and lows of youth, Haruhi has been, is, and will always be there—

and I will trust his word to the end.

Fin.