With their school trip a glorious memory, or at least a glorious memory for Noriko, even though she vehemently disagreed, January turned into February. Almost halfway into the month most of the first years showed signs of stress – the second years just experienced it.

Yukio felt certain in his belief that went for the seniors as well, but theirs were more a matter of university entrance exams. Within a week they’d stop coming to school until graduation.

As for himself he belonged to the happy minority who enjoyed the month without a second thought. Some days offered a promise of the coming spring, and he enjoyed sunshine without a cloud to darken it. For the stressed ones the clouds were a deep brown, and usually very sweet. Valentine’s day loomed over those who had yet to settle into a relationship but were still interested in doing so, or at least interested in the attention clinging to the event.

For his own part he’d get a little something from Kyoko and probably a few samples from friends as well. A month later he’d return the favour and that was it.

While he honestly enjoyed chocolate what Yukio anticipated the most was the evening shared with her. With no school the fifteenth staying out a little later should pose no problem.

Best of all, there was no risk of repeating last year’s Valentine’s disaster when Urufu and Kuri broke up pretty much in the worst way possible. Ryu and Kuri spent their free time cuddling and in general making half of the school population jealous of them each. As for Urufu and Noriko there was less visible cuddling, and if Yukio knew his best friend right, less cuddling overall. That was entirely Urufu’s fault.

Public cosiness or not, Noriko’s Kyoto stunt dragged her relationship with Urufu into the open, or at least indirectly so. The week after they returned she received her share of confessions. They might not have been all that heartfelt, but with Valentine’s days so close more than a few guys saw her as a cute trophy if nothing else.

Which means you can just all go and die.

Urufu might be his best friend, but Noriko was still a close one. She fought hard for her reward, and there was absolutely nothing trophy about her. Yukio’s being blind as a bat when it came to matters romantic lay in his past. A year and a half with Kyoko cured him, and now he understood the glint in Noriko’s eyes as they searched for Urufu.

“Cute, isn’t she?”

Yukio glanced at the head leaning on his shoulder. “You’re cuter.”

“You’re biased,” Kyoko said.

“You bet I am!”

Kyoko snuggled closer to his head. “I guess you’re supposed to be,” she agreed. “Still, she’s cute.”

Across the table, facing the Haven entrance, Noriko glared at them both. “You know I can hear you.”

“Yeah, definitely cute,” Yukio said and pretended Noriko didn’t stare at him from just a cup of coffee away.

She had, he lazily noted, filled out a little where girls should. Well, at least should according to his tastes.

“What you looking at?” Kyoko asked.

Yukio drunk the last of his coffee. “Just observing how there’s more for Urufu to hug.”

Noriko blushed and Yukio felt Kyoko’s head shaking with laughter on his shoulder.

Noriko suddenly stood up from her chair. “Yukio! That’s, that’s sexual…”

“Could do with some more hips though,” Kyoko suggested.

“Kyoko!”

Yukio burrowed his face in Kyoko’s hair and joined her in her mirth. She smelled faintly of shampoo.

“Yes?” she said.

“You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“Naeh,” Yukio said, “I’m supposed to be on Urufu’s side. Not that he deserves it.”

Glaring at him from across the table Noriko shifted her eyes to Kyoko and then back again. Then she rolled her eyes in pretend disbelief, but a thin smile betrayed her, and Yukio felt a smile of his own spread on his face. It’s good this way. You’re good for each other.

“You girls spending the thirteenth together?”

Kyoko nodded on his shoulder. A few strands of hair tickled his nose and with a little regret Yukio lifted his head to hide a sneeze.

“It’s supposed to be a secret,” Noriko said. She waved for James who arrived with coffee and tea. A little later, as soon as the others showed up, they’d order something to eat as well.

“Not that keeping it a secret helped,” Kyoko suggested.

An awkward silence settled over the table. “I never learned exactly what happened,” Yukio said.

Noriko and Kyoko exchanged glances before they silently agreed that Noriko was the one to word whatever they had decided upon. Yukio stared at that little show of friendship with fascination.

“Last year will stay a secret. A small one and it grew way out of proportions.” She exchanged another look with Kyoko. “We could do the same mistake this year, and it wouldn’t mean anything.”

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Yukio borrowed a habit of Urufu’s and shrugged. If the girls wanted to keep the lid on what had happened they could do so. Still. “Tell Hitomi and Jeniferu, will you?”

“How did you know?”

Yukio grinned. “Pretty obvious when Urufu asked me to buy four tickets for an action flick Thursday evening.” The looks Yukio got in return told him his answer wasn’t enough. “Look, that means no girlfriends, so you must’ve booked Jeniferu as well, and Hitomi tags along wherever you go as a group these days.”

“You drew that conclusion from buying four movie tickets?” Noriko said.

Yukio stared at her. Urufu said she was the smartest person he knew, so how could she possibly not understand? “It’s just associated data, or whatever Urufu calls it. You heard him explain it as well.” He received another glare. “Four tickets, and I get to pick the movie. You and Kyoko only agree on films when Urufu or Kuri suggests them, so it couldn’t be a double date.”

“Continue!”

“It’s for the thirteenth, so Urufu wanted us guys off the map or we’d disturb you. The only thing you’d want to do together in secret one day before Valentines is pretty obvious. OK?”

“So that’s how your mind works,” Noriko said. “Now I see what he’s paying for.”

“Huh?” How did the girls making chocolate gifts turn into work?

***

Yesterday they left the cinema in high spirits. Now Ryu leaned against the steel frames carrying swings and studied the grim faces of his friends. On one swing Tomasu sat and studied his shoes. The other held Urufu who kept a subdued conversation with Tomasu going. They spoke in Swedish, so Ryu didn’t understand what they said. He didn’t need to understand though, and he wished it had been the other way around.

Yukio left a few minutes earlier. He just growled something about idiots and a depressing lack of imagination. Apparently he’d spent the last of Valentine’s day a year ago here, and something about a repeat didn’t sit well with him.

But it’s still different with Noriko. It was, but not for the reasons he kept alive in his mind. To begin with there was no giving up between his sister and Urufu. At least you accepted her chocolate.

Ryu looked at Tomasu. He might be a dry geek, but the way something had gone out from his eyes had nothing to do with geekdom. I’ve seen those eyes before. A year earlier. They were Urufu’s eyes from back then, and Kuri’s. At least you didn’t break up.

“Dammit Ryu, I’m not getting through here. Some help please?”

The words only gave birth to silence. Help you? How? I gave up on Ai myself. Ryu shook his head. “Yukio maybe,” he said. He didn’t want to remind Urufu that the way the two of them steam rolled all over himself worked as a great example of how not to give up. “They have to decide for themselves,” Ryu said and made certain not to meet Tomasu’s eyes.

Darkness had long since fallen or else their appropriation of the swings would have met with disapproving stares from parents to children better suited for them. This was not the territory of high schoolers. Yukio could say whatever he wanted about romance manga and proper settings.

Urufu placed a hand on Tomasu’s shoulder and grimaced. “Kareyoshi, the bastard, robbed them of that option.” A long sigh followed. “Bloody hell, he’s still around pissing on our lives!”

Ryu said nothing. His mother once told him how actions created an existence lasting far longer than the deed itself. That was the reason his interfering with Urufu and Noriko was nothing he ever wanted his mother to know about. But I have a right to my disapproval as long as I don’t try to break them up.

“Kiddo, you’re the one with experience here.”

You’re wrong. Ryu shook his head. “Ai was my first. Having a fan club isn’t the same as playing around.” He gave his statement another thought. “Look, I like the attention and all that. I just wasn’t all that interested in getting involved for real.”

There was no way he could avoid looking at Tomasu any more. Urufu was being a douche even if Ryu suspected he didn’t know it. You spoke with people, not about them.

“What?” The question carried a sour tone to it, but at least Tomasu’s voice came alive again.

“I don’t understand,” Ryu said.

“She’s afraid of me. I’m part of that. She needs to move on and I’m a weight around her shoulders.”

There was no need for explaining ‘that’. “I still don’t understand.”

“What’s not to understand? Whenever I get too close she flinches away!”

It wasn’t whenever. Sometimes Jeniferu gathered up the bravery to snuggle up to her boyfriend, but Ryu admitted that Tomasu essentially was right. “That’s why I can ‘t understand. Noriko…” he began. Flashes of Noriko clinging to Urufu in all kinds of inappropriate situations raced through Ryu’s mind. “Noriko had a similar experience, but...”

“But she’s not afraid of Ulf?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

Tomasu lowered his face again. “I don’t know all about it, but he saved her. Am I right?”

Ryu nodded mutely. From the corner of his eyes he saw how Urufu’s faced twisted with anger.

“I failed. She saw me failing.”

That was unfair. Tomasu raced to her rescue faster than anyone else. It wasn’t his fault he was too late. Then understanding finally dawned on Ryu. “Unfair,” he said.

“Unfair, you bet.” Tomasu looked up and hid his face in his hands. “I can’t undo what happened. Unfair has nothing to do with that.”

Urufu had stayed silent throughout the entire conversation, but now Ryu heard him draw for breath.

“The two of you decide then,” Urufu said. “I hate it, but in the end you decide.”

“You’re good friends, both of you.” Tomasu grinned weakly. “You know, as long as I know she can smile with all of her face without a worry in her mind I’m happy.”

“What about you?” Ryu asked. Weren’t you supposed to be a little selfish in a relationship?”

“What about me? Do I want her to leave me? Of course not.”

“So why don’t you…”

“She can’t smile with me. Without that smile, how could I be happy by her side?” The grin turned more honest. “Look, I’m being selfish. If I can’t have both her and her smile I’ll step down.”

That didn’t make any sense to Ryu, but Urufu nodded from his swing.

“Fine,” Urufu said. “When?”

Tomasu smirked, but his eyes had regained a little of their life. “White day. That’s when a good boyfriend returns his Valentine’s chocolate, isn’t it?”

“Your sense of irony sucks, you know that?”

White day?

With a nod Tomasu rose from his swing. “Maybe. We done here?”

“Sure.”

Both men grabbed their bags. Halfway to the entrance of the playground Urufu turned. “Ryu?”

“I’ll stay a little.”

Ryu watched them until they vanished into the darkness. With a little regret he opened his own bag and grabbed Kuri’s chocolate. He’d planned to eat it where she could see how much he appreciated her symbolic gift. It was sweet in his mouth, but somehow the flavour of bitter chocolate managed to reach through all that sugar.

Strange, he thought. But it wasn’t, not really. The bitter taste had nothing to do with Kuri’s gift. It was all in his mind.