Chapter Text
Fuyuhiko groaned and rolled over, pushing his face into the plush pillow below him. Another day. The air conditioning droned on in the background—along with the faint tweeting of birds perched just outside his window. He could've sworn those sparrows were nesting in the eaves just to spite him.
Too bright. Late August sunlight spilt in through the window, and despite just turning twenty-two, mornings still kicked his ass. Tuesday. His day off. No real plans. Except—
"Oh, shit!"
He shot upright, almost blinded by the glare. Damn it. She'd forgotten to close the curtains again. He scrubbed a hand over his eyes, then yawned as he shuffled out of bed, tapping around on the floor with his feet until he found his slippers. He glanced at the alarm clock by his bed. It was already going on half nine. God damn it.
He picked up his phone and unlocked it, being briefly met with his lock screen, a picture of Peko soaking wet and sulking after being pushed into the sea when they went on a group trip to Okinawa the year prior.
Hajime (09:12):
We're still meeting at half ten, right?
He sighed as he trudged over to the bathroom while typing out a response.
Fuyuhiko (09:28):
Make it eleven. Alarm didn't go off.
He flipped on the shower, peeled off his joggers, and waited for the water to warm. His phone perched on the sink. As he stepped in, he nearly knocked over a cluster of bottles scattered on the floor. She hadn't put them back in the caddy. In a rush, probably. He sighed, straightened the mess. He didn't mind. The longer she was out, the better, really.
He was still fumbling with the tie around his neck as he hurried down the stairs, passing the picture frames he'd grown oddly used to—snapshots of them together, a small collection they'd grown over the years.
His favourite, though he'd never admit it (especially since Peko found it ridiculously funny, and the sound of her laugh every time she passed it was like hearing angels sing), was the beach photo. Not the serene ones, but the exact moment she'd caught mid-bird shit flying straight into his face. She was smiling, unaware of what was happening while he was frozen mid-scream, eyes wide and utterly betrayed.
And just by the end of the hallway—the white peony Peko had pressed between the pages of a book, just days after he'd given it to her three years ago. Now it rested in a simple photo frame, delicate and preserved. Just beside it was an old napkin, one with a messily-drawn outdoor scene, with a scruffy looking stick figure holding out a flower to another.
He stepped into the kitchen, flipped open the bread bin and grabbed a sweet bun, tearing open the package with his teeth as he headed for the door. His eyes caught a note on the kitchen table. He picked it up and tossed it in the bin as he went past—wait—no, shit, he meant to toss the package in the bin. He sighed and fished it out, then dropped the plastic in. Taking a bite of the bun, he read the note:
I made you your lunch for later. I did some octopus sausages because I know you like them. I'll be back around four. Can't wait to see you! ~ Peko
(P.S. the window in the laundry room is stuck again.)
He smiled to himself and tucked the note into his pocket as he tugged on his shoes, then opened the door, shutting it behind him and locking it behind him clumsily with his keys. He unlocked his car and slid in, choking against the heat, and started the engine while buckling in. He reversed off the driveway, still eating his half-finished bun as he rolled the windows down and peeled out of the neighbourhood.
~~~
"I've been here for fifteen minutes!" Hajime called, flinging his arms up as he stood outside the jewellers.
A lot of Fuyuhiko's classmates had scattered across Japan after graduation. Kazuichi had landed in Fukuoka, running a thriving motor repair shop. He'd even been recruited to work on a famous F1 driver's car—who ended up winning the next race and generously gave Kazuichi a hefty bonus from his winnings. That windfall finally let Kazuichi buy a proper house, something he'd never had before.
Hiyoko drifted between places without a real home base, always caught up in dancing and performing at festivals. When she wasn't on the move, she stayed with Mahiru, who still lived back in Okayama.
Sonia and Gundham split their time between Sapporo—Gundham's family's territory—and Novoselic, their other home.
Ibuki had stayed in Tokyo and was making decent headway with her gigs, though her fanbase leaned more towards a cult following than mainstream success. Chiaki was also thriving in the city, building a career streaming and winning video game tournaments. Mikan was closer, working at a hospital in Kyoto. She'd apparently grown more self-assured—whatever that really meant.
And Akane and Nekomaru ended up rooming together in Osaka, which wasn't surprising given the city's reputation for incredible food.
It was Hajime and Nagito who had moved to Shiga Prefecture—not too far from Peko and Fuyuhiko, who lived in the small city of Ōtsu. The two boys weren't living together anymore. They had shared a place for a while, but after running into some rough patches, Nagito had moved out. For now, at least. Everyone knew they'd probably find their way back to each other eventually.
"I'm sorry, alright?" Fuyuhiko groaned, jogging over. "I got here as fast as I could."
Hajime let out a long sigh, crossing his arms. "If you don't find anything today, I'm seriously gonna lose it. Petrol isn't cheap, and I'm stuck in an office all day."
Fuyuhiko smirked, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah, quit your whining. Shouldn't have agreed to this if you were just gonna mope the whole time."
Hajime rolled his eyes but followed Fuyuhiko into the jewellers without another word.
It was coming up to Peko and Fuyuhiko's third anniversary—the twenty-fourth of September. Though, Fuyuhiko had a different plan for the way they'd celebrate it this year. Well, it might be the same as usual, going to a cute restaurant, walking along the lake, visiting a shrine. The usual. However, this time—he wanted to celebrate it not with a girlfriend, but a fiancée.
He'd been thinking about it for a while. And by a while—that's the past three years. But now, they were settled down, owned a home, and had jobs. Meaning they could actually focus on getting married without worries about financial stability or finding a place to live. It was finally the 'right time'—and all he had to do now, was find a ring, and build on his plan of how to propose.
Hajime was the only one who knew about Fuyuhiko's plan. Well, and Sonia, of course—the ever-gracious aristocrat who had eagerly offered to find the biggest diamond from Novoselic she could. Fuyuhiko had politely declined. It wasn't about grandeur or extravagance; it was about something far more personal. And plus, Peko would probably look a bit out of place with a three carat diamond on her finger.
"So, what're you thinking? Diamond?" Hajime asked, leaning back a little.
Fuyuhiko let out a sharp breath and shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know. Seems like everyone goes for diamonds. But Peko... she's not flashy like that."
Hajime gave a smile. "It doesn't have to be flashy. They do small ones, see?"
Hajime pointed at a case of diamond rings, each one glittering under the glass—half to two carats, lined up in velvet rows. Fuyuhiko paused, brows drawn. He looked them over but... none of them looked like her. Too clean. Too polished. Too much. The only thing he knew for sure was that she wore silver, not gold—so that helped narrow it down. A little.
He wandered off slowly, weaving between display cases, fiddling with the rings already on his own hands. This had to be right. It had to feel right. Even if it took hours. Even if it took all day—
"Wait."
"What?" Hajime walked over to him, peering over his shoulder. "Oh—whoa. That's nice. Doesn't exactly scream 'engagement ring,' though."
Fuyuhiko shot him a look. "Maybe. But if she's gonna wear it the rest of her life, I'd rather pick one she'll want to wear."
"And you know she'll like this because...?"
Fuyuhiko lifted a brow.
Hajime raised his hands, backing off. "Okay, okay. She'll like it."
~~~
'Okay, if he tries to strike your head again, I need you to duck.' Peko signed, crouching opposite the young boy in front of her. 'If you can hit him on the side before he lands a strike on your men, you'll get the point. Use your speed. That's your strength.'
The boy—Hiro—sniffled, wiping at his face with the sleeve of his gi. His lower lip trembled, but he gave a shaky nod.
Peko offered a soft, reassuring smile and gently patted his shoulder. 'You can do this, Hiro. I believe in you.'
Another nod. Hiro sniffled again and pushed his men back down over his head, adjusting the ties with fumbling hands. Peko bit the inside of her cheek and rose to her feet, stepping back as the referee called the players to centre. Hiro crouched opposite his opponent, bouncing lightly on his feet, still nervous but ready. The timer was set.
She watched as the match began. She watched as Hiro dodged a few blows, cracked his shinai against his opponent's. Good, focused footwork. Peko glanced sideways—just for a moment—and caught the boys from the rival school laughing behind their gloves.
Her stomach turned. She turned back to the match, jaw clenching as she fiddled with the manta ray necklace around her neck. She knew why they were laughing. Over the years, she'd become better at reading lips. They thought Hiro's shouts were 'weird'. Off-pitch maybe. Unusual.
They weren't laughing at his form. They were laughing at his voice.
Peko's hand clenched loosely at her side. She didn't let it show on her face. But her eyes stayed locked on Hiro, steady and unwavering, willing him forward. Willing him to win.
She sighed as the flag shot up—Hiro had taken a clean hit to the side. The match was over. His shoulders dropped, and he threw his shinai aside, stomping back toward Peko without a word. The boys on the opposing team snickered behind their hands. Peko's eyes narrowed. She crouched back down as Hiro dropped onto the bench in front of her, tears streaking his cheeks.
'I can't do it. I want to go home.' He signed with trembling fingers, sniffling.
'No, no. Hiro, you can do it.' she replied gently, already untying the knot on his men.
He pointed with a shaky hand toward the boys laughing. 'They're laughing at me.'
'Let them laugh,' she signed, her expression turning cool. 'They're only laughing because their mothers didn't raise them properly.'
Hiro scrunched his face. 'No. They're laughing because I'm deaf.'
Peko's expression softened. She exhaled slowly, then reached into her sleeve and pulled out a tissue, carefully dabbing at his tear-streaked cheeks.
'No, Hiro.' Her signs were firm, but not angry. 'They're laughing because they don't understand. That's all. Ignorance is loud.'
Hiro's eyes welled up again. 'I'm bad at kendo because I'm deaf. I hate it.'
Peko paused. Then she met his gaze squarely, her hands moving with calm precision. 'I went to Hope's Peak Academy because of my sword skills.'
He blinked at her.
'Did you see any of those boys getting a letter asking them to become the next Ultimate Swordsman?' She paused to let him think, then shook her head. 'No.'
Hiro blinked back his tears.
'You are a strong, determined boy,' Peko signed, crouching beside him again. 'I see it when you go up against Takumi. You've got real skill, Hiro. Don't let those ignorant boys throw you off.'
Hiro sniffled, rubbing at his eyes. 'If I don't win this one, I really want to go home. I mean it. You'll have to call my mom.'
Peko gave a solemn nod. 'Okay. Deal.'
He stood, shaky but focused, and pointed straight at his opponent across the mat. Then signed, bluntly, 'You suck.'
The boy on the other side blinked, confused. Then rolled his eyes and got to his feet. "Wanna get beat again? Shrimp?" he sneered.
Hiro looked back over his shoulder at Peko.
She raised her hands and signed, 'Beat the crap out of him.' Then quickly put a finger to her lips with a smirk. 'Don't tell anyone I said that.'
Hiro's lips tugged into a crooked, tiny smile. He nodded—and turned back to the mat.
The match began.
Peko folded her arms, eyes fixed on Hiro as he sprang to and fro, stepping in sync with his opponent's strikes. His footwork had improved. He was holding his ground. The minutes ticked by. Four minutes in, and he still wasn't backing down. Each blow was met with a block, each attack dodged with surprising speed. Peko could see the rise and fall of his shoulders now—he was breathing hard. But he wasn't giving in.
'Come on, come on...' she thought, tapping her fingers anxiously against her arm.
And then—
The white flag shot up.
Peko actually jumped. A wide smile broke across her face before she could stop it. Hiro turned towards her, his men already halfway off before he'd even reached her.
She was already signing, big and bold: 'You did it!'
Hiro tossed the helmet aside with a triumphant grin. 'Yes!'
She met him with a double high five, both palms smacking his with loud satisfaction.
'I told you you could!'
Hiro beamed—and before she could react, he hugged her legs tightly. Peko blinked, then smiled softly and patted his back. When he pulled away, she signed again, slower this time.
'I'm proud of you.'
Hiro nodded, still glowing. 'I'm proud of me too.'
Peko laughed under her breath. 'You absolutely should be.'
~~~
Peko sighed as she set her shoes on the rack and stepped into the corridor. The cool air of the air conditioner greeted her as she reached up to undo her bun, letting her hair fall loose and curl gently around her shoulders. She wandered into the kitchen, where Fuyuhiko sat at the table, scrolling through a suit catalogue on his phone with a glass of iced apple juice in hand.
Coming up behind him, Peko placed her hands on his shoulders, fingers lightly brushing the collar of his shirt. He looked up with a small smile and locked his phone, tilting his head just enough for her to lean in and give him a quick kiss on the lips. She pulled back, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
'How was work?' Fuyuhiko signed, glancing up at her as she moved toward the fridge.
Peko shrugged, already loosening her uniform tie. 'It was good. A few boys were laughing at Hiro again—apparently the sounds he makes when he shouts are "weird".'
Fuyuhiko rolled his eyes, 'Dicks.'
Peko gave him a flat look as she opened the fridge. 'They're eight-year-olds, love.'
She paused, blinking as something on the middle shelf caught her eye. Turning back to him, she pointed. 'Did you get this for me?'
Fuyuhiko gave a small, smug nod and lifted his glass to cover the smile tugging at his lips.
Peko pulled out the small pot of green tea jelly, its delicate swirl of cream still perfectly intact on top.
'Hey,' Fuyuhiko signed from the table, waving a hand. 'We haven't even had dinner yet.'
Peko exhaled through her nose. 'I didn't have lunch,' she signed back.
Fuyuhiko clicked his tongue and pushed himself to his feet. 'And why the hell not?'
She shrugged as she closed the fridge door halfway. 'Didn't have time to make one.'
He gave her a look, stepped over, and plucked the pudding from her hands. "You should've taken the one you made me, idiot." he said, putting it back in the fridge.
Peko frowned softly and leant her hip against the worktop, watching as he closed the fridge with a click. 'I made it for you,' she signed, a small crease between her brows.
Fuyuhiko gave her a look. 'Because I can't satiate my own hunger on my day off. You deserved it more than I did.'
She huffed, folding her arms. 'You're annoying.'
He smirked. 'Yeah, but I'm right. Sit down, I'll make something quick.'
She watched him grab a frying pan from the cupboard, then raised a brow. 'You're cooking?'
He rolled his eyes as he opened the fridge again. "What, a guy can't cook for his girl?" He gestured to the rice cooker and Peko followed his gaze, noticing it was on. He set a few tomatoes down and grabbed a tin of spam out of the cupboard.
Peko blinked. 'You were planning on cooking?'
Fuyuhiko shrugged. 'You've been at work. Least I can do.'
Peko sat down, the edge of a smile tugging at her lips. 'You're surprisingly responsible about this.'
'Well,' he signed over his shoulder, 'someone's gotta take care of you when you forget to eat.'
She leant back in the chair. 'You're cute when you're bossy.'
Fuyuhiko caught her signing in the reflection of the backsplash and rolled his eyes. 'Yeah, yeah. Shut up and get the bowls out.'
Peko sighed, but pushed herself to her feet, opening the cupboard as he dropped a few slices of spam into the hot pan. They sizzled loudly, the scent wafting around the kitchen as he cracked an egg in beside them.
'By the way,' she said, glancing over, 'Marnie's mum asked about enrolling her little brother in our kendo classes. He just turned five. Same condition Marnie has.'
Fuyuhiko gave a small nod, turning back to the pan as Peko read his lips. "Alright. I'll handle it." Peko smiled softly. She stepped beside him and pressed a kiss to his cheek, brief and warm. He didn't flinch this time. Just kept an eye on the pan as she moved to set the table.
After graduating from Hope's Peak two and a half years ago, Peko and Fuyuhiko had moved to Otsu—thanks in part to a generous donation from Natsumi, who'd helped them secure a small one-bedroom apartment. Since then, they'd built something of their own: a modest but steadily growing kendo school, designed especially for deaf and hard of hearing students.
They welcomed hearing students too—mostly kids with deaf siblings or parents—so long as they knew enough sign to keep up. Fuyuhiko handled the logistics and business side, while Peko took charge of instruction. It was a good life; simple and stable. A whole lot more than either of them had expected when they'd left the academy behind.
Lately, things had even begun to expand. A deaf organisation in Nagasaki had reached out with interest in opening a second branch—something Fuyuhiko was in the middle of negotiating.
Dinner was simple. It always was, really. They sat opposite one another beneath the low glow of the overhead lamp, which Fuyuhiko had contracted Kazuichi into creating a dimming feature when he visited, so Peko's eyes didn't burn out. Surprisingly, becoming deaf heightens a few of your other senses. Including touch. Which was a nice surprise.
'I was thinking about our anniversary,' Fuyuhiko signed, chewing on his rice
Peko glanced up, brow raised. 'It's still a month away.'
He shrugged. 'I know. I just thought maybe... this year, we could do something a little different. Something more special.'
Peko chewed thoughtfully, then shook her head. 'I like our tradition.' She paused to take a bite of spam before signing again. 'Why? Did you have something else in mind?'
Fuyuhiko shook his head quickly, maybe a little too quickly. 'Nah. Just wondering. Figured you might want a change.'
'Three years isn't exactly a milestone,' Peko signed with a faint smile. 'Or is it? You tell me.'
He opened his mouth, then closed it again, covering the flicker of heat in his cheeks with another mouthful of rice. His eyes drifted, briefly, toward the bookshelf in the corner—towards the velvet box he'd hidden behind a few old training manuals.
'No reason,' he signed, shoulders stiff. 'I just want it to be special. For you.'
Peko nodded slowly, eyes narrowing just a touch. She sensed something was off. But, to his relief, she let it go.
"I fixed the window, by the way," Fuyuhiko said casually, poking at his rice with his chopsticks.
Peko glanced at him, skeptical. 'On your own?'
He opened his mouth, and very slowly, said, "...Yes."
'So if I call Hajime right now, he'll say you two haven't seen each other today?'
Fuyuhiko choked, coughing hard into his palm. Shit. If she found out they'd been at the jeweller's...
Peko tilted her head, the corner of her mouth twitching. 'Do you need me to come over there and smack your back?'
He shook his head violently, face scrunched, and reached for his juice. He gulped it down, avoiding her gaze.
Keeping this a secret was going to be impossible.
But it was going to be worth it. It had to be.
Peko scraped the last of the rice from her bowl then stood, her chair scraping back behind her as she took the empty bowl to the sink.
'I'm going to have a shower,' she signed, stepping over to Fuyuhiko and giving him a quick kiss on the head.
He swallowed his bite then signed back, brows furrowed. 'Just wait a minute, I'll finish up and come with you. Could do with a shower, too.'
Peko raised one brow, the edge of her mouth tugging up slightly. 'Really?'
"Yeah, really." He grinned and reached out, looping one arm around her waist and tugging her in so her hip bumped lightly against side. "Can't let you hog all the hot water."
Her skeptical smile softened as he leant briefly into her side, still finishing his food one-handed.
Once he scraped his own bowl clean, he stood and clinked it gently beside hers in the sink. He gave her waist a little squeeze, eyes flicking up to meet hers with a glint of something mischievous.
"I'll wash your back for you."
Peko gave a short, amused laugh, tilting her head. 'That better not be code for something else,' she signed, but her cheeks were faintly pink.
Fuyuhiko shrugged, trying and failing to suppress a smirk. "Mm. You'll have to find out, won't you?"
She scoffed and rolled her eyes—but the fondness in her expression betrayed her. He laced his fingers through hers, her thumb brushing his as he guided her towards the stairs, already fumbling with the buttons on his collar with his free hand.
~~~
Waking up on the morning of September twenty-fourth wasn't easy. Or, maybe it was—Fuyuhiko had been wide awake since six, lying in bed with one hand jammed under his cheek, the other biting at his thumbnail. He stared at Peko, curled towards him, her silver hair spilling over the pillow, lips parted just slightly as she sighed in her sleep. Completely unaware.
Fuck.
Today was the day.
He was going to do it.
Their usual anniversary routine—dinner, the lakeside walk at sunset, and that little shrine just outside of town—would end differently this year. The one with the lanterns strung from the trees, glowing like fireflies when the sun went down. It'd be romantic. Quiet. Perfect.
Or at least, it better be.
He puffed air into his cheek as he watched her sleep. Three years of being hers. Three years of pure bliss. Sure, it might've started out as a bit of a shitshow, but in the end, they both grew into better people. Peko made Fuyuhiko the happiest guy in the world. Just being near her—even when they were doing completely separate things—filled his chest with something warm and weightless. That's why he needed to marry her. He didn't just want to—he needed to.
His mind drifted back to his final year at Hope's Peak, standing outside the firing range with Sonia.
"To keep her as just a girlfriend forever would be an insult to love itself, Kuzuryuu-kun."
She'd been right.
He nibbled at his thumbnail again, eyes fixed on the rise and fall of Peko's chest. Sometimes, even now, he couldn't believe she was real. That this was real. Sonia would have to be the first person he told. He'd sent her a picture of the ring a few weeks ago, and she'd gone on a sixty-message rampage about how "utterly exquisite and unique" it was.
His heart was going at a million miles an hour.
He had everything prepared. He had the speech he'd written folded in the pockets of the slacks he was planning on wearing, and the ring too, just so Peko didn't notice him rummaging through the bookcase for seemingly no reason.
God. He could do this.
~~~
The lake was calm.
It was still, as it usually was on still nights like this.
They walked hand in hand along the path that edged the water, their footsteps soft against the gravel. Peko gazed out over the dark surface, where a handful of boat lights shimmered like distant stars drifting across the black water. Fuyuhiko, meanwhile, was trying not to pass out.
He prayed she couldn't feel the frantic hammering of his pulse through his fingers. Or the way his breaths came just a little too quick. Or the blinking—god, he couldn't stop blinking. Were his eyes always this dry?
It was at this moment that he began rethinking everything.
Did... she even want this?
They'd talked about marriage before, sure—but the conclusion had always been a vague, casual "Yeah, someday." What if, to Peko, someday meant twenty years from now? What if she didn't want to be tied down so soon? What if she didn't want to marry him at all? What if her mind had changed—and she just hadn't said anything?
He knew that if he didn't do it tonight, he'd chicken out again. Another year would pass, and he'd still be stuck in the same loop—waiting, overthinking, hesitating, and then not doing it at all.
The point was: Fuyuhiko wanted to marry her.
If she didn't want that yet, she could say no—and that'd be fine.
No, it wouldn't.
Of course it wouldn't be fine.
Who was he kidding?
'Oh yeah, she said no when I proposed. I'm completely fine!'
What a load of bullshit.
Her hand slipped from his.
'It's a shame you can't see the stars,' she signed, pointing toward the black sky.
Fuyuhiko swallowed and looked up. Sure enough—just darkness. No pinpricks of light, no moon.
'Probably just cloudy,' he signed, hoping his hands didn't shake too visibly.
She watched him for a second before replying. '...Yeah.'
They walked on, the silence between them filled with cicadas and the quiet crunch of their footsteps. Fuyuhiko kept his eyes on the path ahead. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
'Do... you want to go up to the shrine now?' Peko signed, her hands just in the edge of his vision.
He turned to her—and his heart nearly exploded. She looked beautiful. Calm. Completely unaware of the storm inside him. He nodded. Was he blinking too fast again? If he was, she didn't mention it.
The shrine wasn't too far—nestled just at the base of the mountains, about a twenty-minute walk from the waterfront. But tonight, each step felt like it stretched on forever. He held her hand tightly with his left, while fumbling with the velvet box deep in his right pocket. Just a little longer. They'd get to the shrine, he'd say the words he'd rehearsed a hundred times, drop to one knee, and—
"Are you alright?" Peko's soft, wobbly voice broke through his thoughts.
Fuyuhiko swallowed and nodded a little too fast. "Just... a bit cold," he said, though the night was mild—only seventeen degrees Celsius, the air crisp but gentle.
Peko side-eyed him a little, but again, kept her mouth shut. She could definitely sense something was off.
Drop.
Fuyuhiko blinked, then instinctively reached up to his forehead to wipe the droplet away. Was that... rain?
Peko looked up, shielding her glasses with one hand. She broke their hands, then signed slowly, 'Is that rain?'
Better fucking not be.
'Uhm... maybe.' Fuyuhiko signed back.
The shrine was only a few minutes away, and it was sheltered anyway, so even if it rained, it wouldn't be a big deal. They could just wait it out until it passed. Though... if she did reject his proposal, that'd be pretty damn awkward.
They continued in silence, the soft patter of rain growing louder, the cool drops settling on their skin and clothes. Peko's brow furrowed as she glanced up at the dark sky, her hand tightening around his. The steady rhythm of rain hitting the tarmac filled the space between them, mingling with the uneven beating of Fuyuhiko's heart.
In the distance, the warm amber glow of string lights twinkled, winding up the path to the shrine. The sight should have been reassuring, but it only made Fuyuhiko's chest tighten with nerves.
Almost there.
He tried to steady his breathing, slow it down. But it was no use.
Then, just as the warmth of the lights came within reach, the drizzle blossomed into a sudden, relentless downpour.
"Oh, shit!" Fuyuhiko gasped.
Peko startled too, shielding her glasses with one hand, her other hand tightening around his. Her grip was firm, urgent, pulling him forward without a word. The rain hammered down, drumming against the leaves above them, against the tarmac in front of them, and on them, drenching them in just seconds.
Why today, of all days?
They sprinted towards the lights, the shrine growing closer with every desperate step. Finally, they reached it. Peko dragged him up the slick stone steps, breathing fast and shallow as they ducked beneath the small roof of the shrine. The sudden quiet under the shelter was almost jarring. The storm continued its relentless rhythm around them, but here—shielded, cramped—the world felt smaller, and more intimate.
Fuyuhiko's chest rose and fell rapidly, heart hammering. He stole a glance at Peko. Her glasses were fogged, droplets clinging to the rims, but her eyes—those steady, unreadable eyes—were locked onto his.
For a moment, everything slowed.
Staring at her now, as she pushed her glasses up onto her head, Fuyuhiko's mind flickered back to that night.
The night he'd resigned—when everything changed. The night they'd sprinted through the garden, rain soaking them to the bone. The night he'd finally confessed his love. The night they'd kissed beneath the falling rain, everything else fading away.
And in that moment, standing here with her, drenched and breathless—he knew.
He was going to do it.
'That was unfortunate,' Peko signed, a small, awkward chuckle slipping past her lips.
Fuyuhiko didn't reply. Instead, he just looked at her—his expression softer, warmer, more tender than it had been in a long time. They stood there in silence for a few long moments.
'...What's going on?' Peko signed, her brows knitting together with concern. 'Something's going on.'
Fuyuhiko shook his head ever so slightly, his movements slow and drawn out. Slowly, his hand slipped into his left pocket, fingers curling around something—a crumpled, soaked sheet of paper. He pulled it out carefully, but the dampness had taken its toll. The paper was barely in his grasp before it tore halfway down the middle.
A bitter chuckle escaped him. Of course.
This was a throwback—back to a time when he was younger. He remembered standing in the rain that same night, ready to write 'I love you' on his old notepad he used for communication before he'd become proficient in sign. He remembered how the pages had curled and the ink had bled. So instead, he'd signed it.
But now, looking at the ruined paper, he felt a strange warmth rise inside. This rain—the same rain that had once ruined his words way back then—was no longer a curse. It was a blessing. A reminder that sometimes, things that seem like setbacks are just a part of the journey.
'...Peko,' he signed, trying to recall the words he'd written.
'Yes?' she replied, tilting her head slightly. Her expression was soft and puzzled. A single braid lay loosely over her right shoulder, and her glasses, speckled with droplets, sat crooked atop her fringe like a delicate tiara. The shrine was dim, but the hanging lights outside cast a gentle glow around them, illuminating the faint shimmer of rain on her skin.
Fuyuhiko hesitated. His throat was dry despite the dampness everywhere. He could hear the rain against the roof, could feel the weight of his heartbeat behind his ribs.
'I need to say something.'
Peko blinked, a crease forming between her brows. 'Is something the matter?'
'Yes,' he signed, then quickly corrected himself. 'I mean—no. I mean—kind of.' He exhaled, frustrated with himself. 'I've been thinking about this for three years. And I just need to say it now, while I still have the guts.'
Peko nodded once. Her face was unreadable, calm, but her fingers fidgeted in front of her.
Fuyuhiko brushed the water from his face. Then he signed, slower this time.
'I'm sure I don't need to tell you this again, but... I love you.'
Peko smiled, her reply immediate. 'I love you too—'
But he shook his head and held up a hand. 'Wait. Just—let me finish.'
He paused to take a breath, the kind that filled his lungs and threatened to crack his ribs. Then:
'You've been with me my entire life. For the first nineteen years, you were my protector. And don't get me wrong—' he gave a weak, crooked smile, '—as much as I hated the distance the clan forced between us, I still loved being by your side. Just having you there, even when we couldn't talk, made things... easier.'
Peko watched him, her expression softening, her confusion giving way to something deeper.
Fuyuhiko's gaze dropped for a second. He shifted his weight.
'When you had your accident, I felt like... my whole world stopped. Like everything I knew just shattered. Because I'd finally started to build something with you outside of the clan—and then I let you go. And you got injured. And then I pushed you away out of jealousy and shame. And... you know what, never mind. That's not the part that matters right now.'
He steadied himself, glancing back up. Her eyes hadn't left him.
'I have a lot of people to thank for getting me to this point. Mahiru was the one who told me to buy you flowers when you came out of the hospital—said I'd be an idiot if I didn't. Hajime knocked some sense into me, pushed me to learn sign even when I kept messing it up. And my sister... she took the fall when I left everything behind. So I could build a life for myself. And you.'
He swallowed.
'But most of all, Peko... I need to thank you.'
Peko didn't move. Didn't blink. Her hands hovered slightly, uncertain, like she knew something was coming but didn't want to interrupt.
'You stayed with me.' His hands were steadier now, more sure with each word. 'You pushed through everything. You endured the unthinkable and still came out the other end. And I think... if you'd decided to leave—if you'd run, or walked away, or just... I don't know—I'd be leading a very different life right now. A sad one. A broken one.'
He paused, eyes on hers.
'You're the reason I am who I am. The reason I live the way I do now. The reason I made this decision, back when you agreed to be my girlfriend.'
The rain continued to tap against the roof.
'Because I love you, Peko. I've always loved you. Even before I knew how to say it. Even before I had the courage to sign it. I always will. Forever.'
Peko felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, but she stayed still—watching him, breath held, heart pounding.
'I love your face. I love your eyes. I remember thinking they were scary back when I was a toddler—then thinking how... I mean, I don't know the exact word, maybe enchanting or something, they were when I got older. I love your cheeks and how they go pink when I kiss them. I love your lips, for obvious reasons. And your hair, even when you forget to tie it up before bed and I wake up with it all over my face. And I love how your hand fits perfectly in mine, I love that heart-shaped scar on your leg. I love how you can be so firm with others but with me you're like jelly, unless I'm about to do something stupid but that's alright because your stern face can be pretty cute.'
Peko giggled and shook her head.
'And I love how caring you are. I love how you are with the kids and how you give them hope that there's so much out there for them even if they're deaf. I love how you play with my hair when we're watching TV at night. I love your laugh and your smile and the way your eyes crease a little at the corners when you're grinning super wide. I love the cute bentos you make for me and I love it when you put those little octopus sausages in.' He paused, hands aching a little, but continued nonetheless. 'I love the way you kiss me and I love how damn good you are in—'
Peko waved a hand, laughing a little as she signed, 'Alright, I get it. I love you too.'
He laughed back, rubbing a trembling hand over his face to ease the mounting nerves. He swallowed the lump in his throat, and began again.
'Sonia said something to me back when we first started dating. She told me... that I'd be an idiot to keep calling you my girlfriend forever. That the way I looked at you... it wasn't the way you look at a girlfriend. It was the way you look at someone you want to spend the rest of your life with.'
Peko's fingers came up to her mouth. Her eyes shimmered with tears now, unblinking.
Fuyuhiko's breath hitched.
'And she was right.' He shook his head faintly, lips twitching, eyes half-blinking rapidly with emotion. 'When you said yes to dating me, my first thought—aside from, you know, yay—was: I have to marry you someday. I need to. Because I fucking love you. I want to live the rest of my life with you.'
He blinked back tears.
'I want the dumb arguments about who left the shower on cold. I want to wake up with you beside me, even if we're sweating and half-naked because it's too hot. I want to cook for you when you're sick and get ill too because I get too close, but at least I get to be close to you. I want to sleep on the sofa while you mess with my hair. I want to make a family with you because I know you'd be a good mum even if you don't realise it. I want all of it. I want you. And I want...'
Then, with hands that trembled but didn't hesitate, he reached into his right pocket. Slowly, shakily, he lowered himself to one knee.
'I want to make you my wife.'
He pulled out the box.
Looked up. Opened it.
And with a voice that broke just a little at the edges—
"Peko... will you marry me?"
Peko's hands flew up to cover her face as a single, choked sob escaped into her palms. Fuyuhiko stared up at her, his heart crashing against his ribs, caught somewhere between hope and terror.
For a long second, she didn't move—just stood there, trembling, her shoulders shaking ever so slightly. Then, slowly, her hands slid back down to her mouth.
Her eyes were wide and wet, barely glancing at the ring before they returned to him.
And then—she nodded.
He could've cried.
His throat tightened as he snapped the box shut, his fingers trembling. Then, without another word, he surged forwards and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close in a tight, all-encompassing embrace. Her soaked jacket clung to him, her heartbeat thudding against his chest—frantic, but so god damn real. He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face into her collar, holding her like he never wanted to let go.
And for a long, suspended moment, nothing else existed.
Peko wept softly against his shoulder, her hands fisting into the fabric at his back, and he held her tighter, as if he could anchor them both to this second forever. He could feel his own tears threatening to rise, the breath catching painfully in his throat, but he held them back. Just barely.
He was too full. Of awe. Of love. Of relief.
He thanked every star, every comet, every distant planet, that the path of his life had somehow led him here—into her arms, into this future. Into a yes.
When they finally pulled apart, they were both shaking. Overrun with adrenaline, with laughter on the edges of their sobs, with love so big it didn't fit inside their bodies.
Fuyuhiko opened the box again, slower this time. His fingers still trembled as he took the ring out. It was a simple silver band—modest and elegant—with a single lozenge-cut ruby set into its centre.
"It's uh—" Fuyuhiko said, "I thought it looked like your eyes."
Peko read his lips then nodded through tears, and looked at it like it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. She smiled, the kind of smile that made time stop, and slowly extended her left hand.
His breath caught in her throat as he slid the ring onto her middle finger, his hands barely steady enough to do it. It fit perfectly.
And when he looked up again, her eyes were shimmering. Not just from the tears.
From joy.
"I love you, Peko," he whispered, brushing the rain from her cheek.
Peko took a shaky breath and nodded. "I love you too, Fuyuhiko. I love you so much."
And they stood there, holding each other.
The same way they did when they slow-danced barefoot in the kitchen to cheesy love songs on the radio.
The same way they did when they woke up on Sundays, both procrastinating getting up just to lie with each other a little longer.
The same way they did when words weren't enough, and all they needed was to feel the other's heartbeat and know they weren't alone.
The same way they would, for years, for decades, to come.
Because... she was his forever.
And he was her forever.
And in the quiet night, surrounded by the quiet drips of rain that had since ceased,
That forever began.