My heart-to-heart with Yuuma proved to be more beneficial that I would have ever guessed. In retrospect, maybe I really had been looking for his approval -- or any approval; I didn't need anyone's permission to move on, but something in me wanted it, and there was no one beyond my blood that I valued more than Yuuma. Saga's name was still surrounded by glitz and he was still a tad too young for my liking, but if Yuuma was willing to give him a chance, then who was I not to do the same?

As simple as it had been, that talk with Yuuma had made all the difference when it came to my relationship with Saga. Even if I already knew all of the same things that Yuuma had pointed out, it only really made sense coming from him. The mist had faded in my head after that night, and suddenly everything became so much clearer. Whatever wall I had been holding up to maintain distance was long gone by the time Saga and I sat in the park exactly one month after our first "date", and I was sure I wasn't the only one to feel its absence.

My knuckles were pressing into the fissure of my lips as sat in the grass that day, holding in a laugh. I was glad that Saga had a habit of finding more secluded areas for us to hang around in. It was always better to not have to worry as much about Saga being accosted by fans, and it also let us fool around without attracting too much attention.

It came to the point where I couldn't hold my breath anymore and a completely unfeminine spurt of air and bits of spit flew out of my mouth and all over my fist. I brought my hand down and stopped trying to hold in my humor after that, only leaning back on the blanket and watching Saga crouch over some bushes a ways away with a easy grin.

"What is it saying?" I asked him when my giggling subsided. A picnic in the park wasn't the single most creative date idea, but Saga found his own ways of making it interesting. Or, rather, a squirrel sniffing around for our crumbs and Saga's decision to engage it in conversation made it interesting.

A few more high-pitched squeaking sounds came from Saga’s throat before he answered in human dialect.

"I‘m not sure," he said. He coughed once before going on. "It’d be easier if Pon was here to translate, but I think it was something about how pretty you are."

"Uh-huh," I drawled, stretching my legs out in front of me and waving my feet. Saga retreated from the bushes and regained his seat beside me, pretending not to notice that his pinky finger had landed on top of mine. I did the same. "Still trying to be a Lothario, huh?"

"I don’t have to try," Saga insisted. "I’m naturally suave. I woo women as easily as I breath."

"Uh-huh," I said again, replicating the exact ratio of sarcasm and malaise that I had used the first time. "You're communication skills with man and beast alike are pretty y."

"You think so?"

I smirked but gave no further comment.

The tall whatever-kind-of trees blocked out a majority of the sunlight in the area, but a few streams of light weaved their way between the leaves and fell onto my face. I tilted my chin up to meet them part way and closed my eyes. It was peaceful for little while, but the steady progress of Saga's fingers climbing over mine kept me grounded. The closer his palm came to encasing the back my hand, the higher the corner of my lips climbed, until his fingers hooked themselves around mine and held them captive beneath his.

"Smooth," I commented, not breaking my pose. When Saga didn't say anything back, though, I peeked one eye open. My eyes were bright with mirth, but Saga was looking down at our entwined fingers with a concentrated frown.

The strangest thing about our situation by then wasn’t Saga’s interest in me, but my interest in him. Things had turned around so quickly. All of the tallies of pros and cons I’d made in my mind still had more marks on the negative side, it was true, but one particular positive point was the most poignant of them all.

I wanted it. I wanted to fall in love with Saga. I wanted to try to, at least. I didn’t want to keep convincing myself that I didn’t see Saga as anything more than a misguided junior. Even if admitting it only meant that I would be feeding some ephemeral flame that was bound to burn out, that was okay. It was better to have loved and lost than not loved at all, wasn't it? Yuuma was right: I wouldn't regret it unless I didn't do it.

But still, there was one thing holding me back, and I knew that needed to let it -- her -- out of the box. Before I could let any romance bloom between the two of us, Saga had to know about Koemi. She was the most important thing in my life, and him accepting her would earn him a place in it for himself. Maybe it wasn't fair to spring something that serious on him on such a nice day at such a strange moment, but when would there ever be a good time?

There were birds chirping all around me, and I imagined their tunes to be calls of encouragement. I took in a deep breath and told myself to go for it. It was then or never. The had come.

I slid my elbow inwards, then rolled my wrist so that my palm and Saga's would meet.

"Sakamoto-Kun," I started off, shifting myself to face him. My head was slightly downcast, so I compensated by pushing myself a little closer and looking up at him from under my lashes. "I have to tell you…"

For a fraction of infinity, my eyes flickered up and got hooked on Saga's. It wasn't that my mind went blank and I lost the ability to look away -- it was that I didn't have the faintest desire to. There was something about that moment and that man that made me want to surrender all individual thought and just let him lead me. As self-sufficient as the race of women prided themselves in being, I still liked the idea of being taken care of by a man. Whether it was defying evolution or not, it was the truth.

Saga's eyes released mine and dipped down to my mouth. I knew what was coming. It was the worst, most morbidly ironic timing, but there was nothing I could do about it. There was nothing I wanted to do about it.

My breath caught, and my tongue darted out to moisten my lips as a reflex. Saga smiled just the slightest bit and, without taking his stare away, began his descent.

The space between us was covered in a series of snapshots; he was an arm's length away, then an elbow's, and then I could just about count his eyelashes as his lids slid closed. There was that same designer perfume coming off of him, teasing the sensitive hairs in my nose. The tip of Saga's nose ghosted around the perimeter of mine. The taste of his lunch dusted my lips, and then his lips dusted my lips. He pulled back by a micrometer.

My stomach was full of birds, all of them disoriented and flying into each other until they were a tangle of beating wings. No matter how much experience you had, the first kiss always seemed to do that.

Saga tilted his chin upwards, ready to seal the deal. The birds flapped their wings with more vigor. I understood why, but I didn't want to. I was ready to seal the deal.

"...I have a daughter."

It was inadvertent. I was only finishing the thought I’d started to get it out of my system. Everything in me was attuned to Saga, but the confessions had already been at the tip of my tongue; it was just rolling across the finish line. My voice was detached and distant, and I didn’t fully comprehend the fact that I’d spoken at all until the pressure I had been anticipating didn’t come. The world was benumbed for all of a moment, Saga frozen where he was and holding me and the rest of the universe with him in limbo.

But then I felt his breath draw back, after what seemed like a lifetime, and the oxygen that replaced it was cool and hollow.

I opened my eyes (when had they closed?) and knew it was over. The feeling was bittersweet. But still, I would have rather be alone and honest than lying and in love. Being honest and in love was the goal, but if that couldn’t happen…

Saga inhaled deeply, his stare vacant and directed in the distance. My heart was wriggling. The wait was killing me. It hadn't even been a minute, but it was killing me. As huge of a thing as it must have been for Saga to process, I wanted an answer. Anything. Soon. Now.

Saga's body slumped at first, but then his muscles perked up, and he turned to me as if he'd been struck by a bolt of genius. "I have a dog."

I blinked. That was about the only thing I could do. "Sakamoto-Kun, that’s…not exactly the same thing."

I chortled, but it was so unenthusiastic that I nearly choked on it. I wasn’t sure what to make of Saga and his statement. A child and a dog weren’t comparable. He couldn’t actually think that they were. What was he trying to say? Did he think it was a joke?

"No," Saga said, shaking his head once. "I know it’s not the same, but…I don’t know. Kids like dogs, right? Does she like dogs? Chiko likes kids. I think."

I didn’t answer for a while. I studied Saga to measure the sincerity behind his words, and the more I bought into them, the softer my expression became. Maybe it wasn't the end?

Or maybe it still was. I didn't know, not yet. What did Saga having a dog that may or may not like kids mean?

Saga started to squirm, so I bowed out of my scrutiny, sending a placid smile to my lap instead.

"Yeah, she likes dogs."

Saga nodded along to that information, his stare still on the horizon.

"Well," he said after a beat, "what’s her name?"

"Koemi."

"How old is she?"

"Eleven."

Saga was trying, and that was the most I could ask of him. It was more than I could ask of him.

It was still hard, though. Harder than I thought. I wasn't the one who was supposed to be freaking out. Why was I freaking out? Why wasn't Saga freaking out? Or was he inside, just like me? If he wasn't, why couldn't he just tell me that everything was fine? Was his outward calm payback for all of the times I'd turned him down in the beginning? Fate wanted my stomach to tie itself into knots waiting for what I wanted to hear?

Saga shifted himself. His eyes were darting this way and that, searching for something. "Is she a fan? Of Alice Nine?"

My smile tightened, and I lifted my face briefly so that Saga could see it. "Yeah, she likes you guys, but she’s in love with Masato-San from SuG."

A tepid chuckle came from Saga, one that let me know he was still uncomfortable with everything that was going on despite his best attempts to act natural. That made me breathe easier, at least.

"I could probably arrange for them to meet sometime, if that's okay with you," Saga offered, both of his brows raised.

"You shouldn't spoil her before you've even met her. She might develop a crush on you instead."

As dry as the words were, I added more length to one side of my smile so that Saga would know I was kidding. My nerves were buzzing, and I found myself oddly irritated. I wanted the transitional phase to be over one way or the other; we’d already been through the awkward part, supposedly, during the first few weeks of our relationship. I wanted things to move, whether it was taking a few steps back or a giant one forward. I knew I was throwing a lot at Saga at once, but the stalling was worse than anything.

Despite that, it was my fault for withholding something so important, and so it was Saga’s move. I had to wait for him. I needed to give him the chance to be selfish for once.

The thing was, I was so relieved about not having any sort of secrets weighing me down that it was hard to be patient. My conscience was free and ready to fly, but I'd tied a lead block onto Saga's ankles in exchange for that vindication. My hormones were begging for the kiss that'd been yanked from right underneath my nose, but it wasn't in my right to take. I might as well have been thirteen again for all the self-control I was grappling with.

There were only a few inches between Saga and I, but the space felt like it could fit a few planets. Our hands, my right and his left, were still piled on top of each other, but they were more dead weight than embracing flesh. As much as I longed to curl my fingers through Saga's, I didn't want to rush anything. Saga may not have been reacting badly at that moment, but the blow I'd delivered was the type of thing that he would need to sleep on before making a final decision. I couldn't expect him to absorb it at the snap of a finger. I, meanwhile, would be tossing and turning and watching re-runs of The Nanny and organizing my tax drawer, but that was probably what I deserved. A restless night or two or torture.

"I'm sorry," I said, having every reason in the world to mean it. It was then that my insides stopped wrestling, and I set myself aside to appreciate just what I was putting Saga through. How must it have been for him? How could I be complaining? I really was self-centered.

I faced Saga, smiling a close-lipped, sympathetic smile. My lungs were heavy, and as much as I wanted to hope for the best I had to brace myself for the worst. If Saga wasn't telling me everything was okay, then everything wasn't okay. I could live with that. I would have to.

I allowed my hand to squeeze Saga's just once before I retracted it. Somehow that seemed like the best thing to do.

"I know I should have told you sooner, but…" I didn’t bother explaining myself, figuring that Saga could and would draw his own conclusion -- just like I was, based on his silence.

I played with my own fingers, imagining that one of my hands was Saga’s. It was a little pathetic. What was wrong with me? "I guess I ruined the mood, huh? We should clean up and head home. You probably want to be alone to think things over, and that’s fine. You don’t have to say anything now."

With a tiny grunt, I heaved myself up onto my knees. I settled there for the time being, glancing back at Saga. He hadn’t moved at all.

Saga’s brow was wrinkled, his gaze aimed at the lawn. A breeze came along and ruffled the grass, making each strand perform a synchronized dance. The choreography seemed to give Saga a dose of wisdom, and he turned to me with a melancholic façade.

"Can I say something now?" he asked, his tone just as thoughtful as his expression.

What could he have to say so soon? Was it good or bad? "Yes. Of course."

Saga nodded, and then turned away again. Apparently whatever news he was breaking was easier said to the air than directly to me. That couldn't be good, could it?

"I might now know her," Saga relayed, leaning back and putting his weight on his elbows, "but I'm sure Koemi sees you as the untouchable type, too."

Confusion must have been drawn all over my face because Saga glanced at me, cleared his throat, and then elaborated.

"You said you wanted to be like your parents, like one of those untouchable types, but didn't think you were. You're not giving yourself enough credit. Your strength was what I first noticed about you, and what drew me to you."

I knew Saga had to be pulling my leg after that. Strength, me? Did he not recall that a month ago our relationship consisted of me stuttering and blushing and wimping out of a date just because I was too scared of the odds not being in my favor? Did he have the foggiest idea what was going on in my head at that very moment?

"It's all in the way you hold yourself," Saga said, "especially at work. There aren't many other women at PSC, and the men don't respect you much. I've heard them talking about you behind your back, and I doubt they show much more courtesy to your face. But you still go everyday and do your job even though I know you're aware of the gossip. It might not seem like a big deal, but I noticed, and once I got to know you more, the more you won me over. You're braver than you think, and you're more selfless than you think."

Saga's gaze made it's way to mine, and I remembered that I was there in body, in full view in front of him. I felt my jaw tighten from its lax, and my eyes were stinging at the corners and almost glaring. There was too much going on in all directions, and it was too hard to try to get a hold on myself.

Where was it all coming from? Why hadn't Saga said anything before and why was he choosing then telling me? Was he trying to drive me insane with emotional overload? I had been gearing up well, but my sanity was thrown off the loop with Saga's change of direction.

Without taking his eyes off me, Saga continued to talk. "All kids look up to their parents. Your parents are the ones who look out for you and give their all for you, and you usually don't realize the extent of it until you're grown yourself. That's what you do for your daughter. She might not realize it for a while and she might not ever tell you, but I know she's thankful for everything you've done for her sake. You're her mom, and you're a great mom. That's where you get your strength from, I think, and that makes me thankful that you have you daughter to make you into the person that I've gotten to know."

I was frozen, petrified, and I couldn't take it. I averted my face, on my lip and willing myself to figure something out. I hated what Saga was saying and what it was doing to me, but I loved it at the same time. I almost wished Saga had been angry and criticizing me instead. Praise was so much harder to receive than scolding. It hit closer to heart. You wanted to believe it, but somehow it always resisted. For me, anyway.

"You are the untouchable type when to comes to her," Saga assured me, reaching over and sliding his fingers over mine again. I gripped back instinctively, desperately. "You're her mom and you do everything for her, even if it means gritting your teeth and putting yourself in positions you'd rather not be in. You take the hits so that she won't have to. That's what makes someone untouchable to me. That they love someone so much that they'd do anything for them."

I was starting to cry, but I wanted to hide it. So I laughed. It was a hoarse, single exhale, but it was better than nothing.

I didn't know what to say but I still turned to Saga, opening my mouth and gripping for something. During the struggle, Saga's eyes darted between mine, likely noticing the moisture and redness. He didn't call me out on it, but his expression sharpened in concern and he sat up a little straighter, as if ready to take action if he saw an S.O.S. The green of the grass and the blue of the sky highlighted the red tones in his hair, an his eyes were the softest, milkiest brown I'd ever seen. Even the sun didn't work against him; his skin was still deliciously smooth and clear and fair and fresh, resting over the delicate structure of his face so perfectly I was almost afraid it would somehow suffer under my influence.

God, he was beautiful. What did I ever do to deserve him?

The first tear slipped after that, and instantly my face snapped away so that Saga wouldn't see it. But he did.

Saga pulled himself up so that he, too, was sitting on his knees. His hand slipped out of mine and joined its twin at the junction of my neck and jaw, cradling the shape of my face with a feather light, hesitant support His rings were cool against my skin, and his fingers threaded into the hair behind my ears. I had no other choice but to stare up at him, his face hovering over mine and his eyes intense.

Saga’s thumbs moved, wiping underneath my eyes and egging the remaining tears out. There were only a few, but he kept rubbing even after they were gone, his caress growing more tender and confident with every motion. They gradually regressed, though, and then ceased completely.

Naturally, there was only one way the situation could go. Saga’s nose sort of nudged mine, but then dipped out of the way, making room for his lips to swoop in.

The kiss was surprisingly and fantastically innocent. There was no tongue, and no groping or ling. But it was still so passionate that way, as nothing more than pure and honest expression. However long it lasted, it felt like it took me to the moon and back, and my innards were all left scattered everywhere along the way.

When Saga pulled back, there was a slight smack, and that was probably the only thing that woke me up from delirium. My lips tried to follow his, my chin craning upwards as he disengaged, and my eyes stayed closed for an hour or two, just to hang on to the feeling.

When I had recorded enough of the moment to memory I opened my eyes, just barely, and regarded Saga through a hazy film of euphoria.

"What does this mean?" I asked, my voice a low tremor. My toes were tingling, and my body felt lighter than air. Whatever happened, I was glad that I’d gotten to have the experience. I’d definitely cherish the kiss, even if it was the first and last.

Saga’s fingers fell off of my face, although they seemed to linger there in limbo until gravity took over. Saga pulled in a sizable chunk of air and sat back on his ankles, putting some distance between us and allowing me to get the oxygen my brain so desperately needed.

"It means," he said. From the way he said it, I got the feeling he was making his decision as he went along. "...that you having a daughter is just something I’m going to have to learn to get used to."

A humbled grin found its way onto my face. He was using my own words against me, but in the best way imaginable.

"So," I said, every ounce of me suddenly candy-coated and frothy, "what now?"

Saga lowered his head in thought, his chest rising and falling in waves that were higher than usual. He his lower lip once, and his arm twitched. He paused and glanced up at me, as if asking for approval, before taking hold of my hand.

"I don't think me meeting your daughter would be the best thing right now," he said, standing and heaving me up after him, "but you can meet my dog, if you want."

I stumbled over my own two feet, stupidly. Saga eyed me from his place a single step ahead, his movements faltering as he waited for me to regain my bearings. We ended up both stopping where we stood to stare at each other. I hardly wanted to let myself buy into the idea that it was reality; it was going too well to be reality.

Another breezed rolled across the park, blowing Saga's hair into his face. His features scrunched up and his free hand shot up to comb the strands back. From under the disarray, his eyes found mine, suddenly looking as uncertain as mine probably did on the day it all began. But what did he have to be shy about? Why did he seem afraid of me?

My fingertips were trembling, my grin settled down into only a tiny curl at the corners, and I slid my foot forward. I leaned in until I was able to wrap my arms around Saga, not even considering how un-thirty-five I felt as I pressed my face into his collar, savoring his scent. "I would love to meet your dog, Sakamoto-Kun."

There was really no delicate way to say it. Date of birth and social standing aside, I was falling. Fast and hard and with a dazzling, precious person I would have never dared to dream would be so dazzling and precious that he'd want me by his side. Maybe he even needed my support as much as I needed his. Saga was right, too: sometimes you really didn't have to be looking for something to find it.

Author's Note:

Ah, I wasn't too fond of this ending back when I wrote it, and I couldn't quite revise it to my liking this time around either. But here it is one way or another. xP

Some of you already know this, but I'm considering making a bonus sequel part to this mini series; it will ultimately depend on my schedule and muses, and it probably won't come out until the summer (if at all), but the idea is floating around in my brain~

Basic Sequel Description: Hanayu meets Saga's dog, at Saga's house...which is also Saga's parents' house...

I'm not sure if it's still true, but at the time I wrote this story Saga still lived with his parents. And since his parents -- his mom especially -- are absolutely adorable, the scenario is begging to be written. xD

Until then, though, this is the end! I hope you enjoyed it, and thank you all for the support!!