Kyo opened his mouth to protest her words of self-doubt and blame, to reassure her that he was just as much to blame—if not more, had he not been such a coward, such a fool, such an idiot for so much of his life—but stopped himself. He could say those things all he wanted, Tohru would continue to think it was her fault regardless of what he said or how many times he repeated it. He knew she would because he knew her, and he also knew himself. In the end, if he just kept repeating himself to her, he’d get frustrated because she would still blame herself, and it would end badly for both of them.
While she didn’t feel as if she were going to pull away or out of his hand, he gave her fingers a squeeze, though whether to wordlessly implore that he didn’t hold anything against her, or to reassure her he was here now and was not going anywhere, he wasn’t sure of, himself. He let her talk without interrupting her, savouring each word she said as much as he could—not because of any sort of beauty, but because Tohru so rarely let herself express feelings like this. He knew she took far too much responsibility on her slender shoulders—she always had, and probably always will. He hated himself for being part of that burden, but was also humbled by the fact that she had willingly taken it up for him without a second thought. Without forethought, really, because that was just.. Tohru. And that’s who he loved, because she was Tohru, and she couldn’t be anyone else—he wouldn’t want her to be.
The edge of his family’s property came marked with the edge of the forest, and the noises of the cars seemed to break a spell that had come over them in the quiet of the trees. He couldn’t take his eyes from the offending vehicles, breaking this long moment he had with Tohru after so many years, and he knew he was probably glaring at them. When she softly called his name, however, he tore his gaze from the cars up ahead of them and down to her, not knowing just how much his expression softened toward her. He felt warmth bloom through his chest and reach up to his mouth as he echoed her smile back to her—I am but the helpless moon to her sun, always reflecting the light that she shines on me.
“I—” He stopped, though he didn’t know why. “Yes,” he agreed. “There’s no reason to start over. People make mistakes. People… hurt each other, when they don’t mean to. We—I—do stupid things sometimes. But we’re still here and alive and breathing, and that’s what’s important now. We’re here together.” He inwardly winced. Perhaps not quite the best choice of words, but he had never been good at that. He didn’t want to say what else was on his mind, but he knew that he had to. For both their sakes.
“I… I want to make sure of something, though.” Kyo didn’t want it coming out sounding ominous, and he did his best to try and make it as little that as possible, but he was afraid he failed at doing so. He stopped their slowing pace to a halt before they drew too near the edge of the forest and the edge of their moment. “There are two things I think are important we address. One is no, I don’t want to dwell on the past or its sadness and hurts… but we can’t just ignore it, either. I want us to heal, and I learned the hard way that the best way to do that is to face it and make amends with it, not just pretend it’s okay when it’s not.”
He took a breath, gathering himself inside. “And also… We need to be really open with one another. I mean, we kinda already are, but it’s needs to be more. If there’s something bothering you—even if it’s something that was years ago, or five minutes ago, or hasn’t happened yet—you need to tell me about it. Don’t worry about bothering me,” he said, shaking his head a bit, anticipating her protest to that request, ” ‘cause you wouldn’t be. You don’t bother me at all, understand? The only way we’ll get through this together is to work as a team, and you gotta talk to your team to make things right.” He released her hand and slid his hands up her arms lightly, coming to rest near the top of her shoulders. “Okay? Does that sound okay to you?” Because I desperately want this to work, Tohru, you don’t know, and I know I will have to do work in telling you things, and not bottling up, and not exploding… but I will do it all and more for you. “And I’ll try my damnest, too, I promise you,” he added.
It felt like a silence fell over them, and Kyo couldn’t hear or see anything but Tohru, before him, in that moment. Only when another car made its way down the small street just outside the Sohma property did it break his tunnel vision and bring him back to the world beyond her.
