Still crouching at her feet, Mamoru felt himself slipping deeper into his own thoughts. No matter how hard he tried, he could never understand this girl. Oh, he was able to understand every word that she was saying, but because of the grammar or cultural implication, he can’t understand what she is trying to say. It is frustrating. The only part of the conversation that he completely understood was that he was being rejected.
I should have expected that, he thought. I turned her down once before, and what girl would want to date a man after he’s already told her that they can only be friends?
Suddenly it hit him. This must be how Hannah felt after I brushed off her feelings when she confessed.
Guilt gnawed at his stomach. Although it has been over a year now, Mamoru still remembers that night very clearly: how nervous she was as she slid the small envelop across the bar; the wave of shock that crashed over him as he read over her confession, and the strange mixture of fear and admiration as he considered how long it must have taken her to write the letter in both English and Japanese.
Thinking back on it, he regrets how he handled everything. He should have spoken to her in person or at least checked on her later on to make sure she was truly comfortable with the results. But the entire situation made Mamoru a little uncomfortable; it wasn’t something he could just laugh off, and direct confrontation is something he has always tried to avoid. So when he saw her looking so cheerful and upbeat the next time they met, he assumed everything was okay between them. After all, Hannah did say she would understand no matter what his response was. Not to mention she is America, and Americans are strong and can handle everything, right?
Looking at the tears and the broken expression on her face, Mamoru knew that he was wrong. Hannah might be strong, but of course she was affected by what had happened. Who wouldn’t be? But then why didn’t he notice before now?
She must have wanted to keep it a secret from me.
A dull ache formed in his chest. The idea that Hannah felt she couldn’t be honest with him made Mamoru feel sick. Although there have been a few times when she has hurt him, overall this woman has been nothing but kind and supportive since the day the met. And how did he repay her? By making her cry.
I don’t deserve her. It would be best if I just let her go. But the idea of never seeing Hannah made Mamoru nauseous. I should leave her alone. But I can’t imagine my life without her now. I need her. How do I show her how much I care about her? How much I will change for her?
After twisting his hands around so their palms would be touching, Mamoru threaded his fingers with hers.
“Ha-chan,” he whispered softly. “Can we talk after lesson?” His heart broke a little more when she slowly shook her head no; her eyes refusing to meet his.
“Please,” he pleaded. “Just for a few minutes. I must tell you something. Please.” He would never forgive himself if he left for Tokyo without at least trying to fix his relationship with Hannah.
She stayed silent for awhile then sighed. “Okay,” she mumbled. “We can talk. But for 15 minutes only. I’ve haven’t had any lunch or breaks today, so I am tired.”
“Oh, if you are hungry, we can go to…”
“No!” She interrupted. A fierce crept up to her cheeks when she realized how rude she was being. “Sorry but no. Fifteen minutes only. Okay?”
“Okay.” Mamoru was slightly hurt by her refusal, but she did agree to meet him after this, which was very unexpected. So he couldn’t complain too much.
He glanced at the clock then shot up out of his crouch. “Sorry! Time is finished. I should go speak to the secretary.” After gathering his bags, he moved swiftly to the door but paused before opening it.
“Thank you for the lesson,” he said with his back to Hannah. “I will wait for you downstairs.” Then he quietly slipped into the hallway.
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