Author: Kiki (Hey-Diddle-Diddle)

Genre: Romance (The real genre is "happiness," 'cause omg it's happy.)

Rating: PG

Summary: Ahahaha, this is Shizuka/Kimihiro/Himawari (my OT3 whut). They're happy and the sun is shining.

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It ends like this: Shizuka is pushing Himawari's bike across the street, the loose gears clicking as the tires spin. He's saying something to Kimihiro, and Kimihiro's trying to catch up, pulling Himawari with him. Her scarf is snapping in the wind, bright greens and yellows that are bleached in the sunlight. Her hand is slim in his, and he pulls it up close to his chest, holds on tight.

"I said," Shizuka says, "her bike-chain needs fixing. If you aren't going to fix it, then just let me--"

It doesn't sound like anything, really. Maybe like sunlight, but there's no sound for that. It's bright, and clear, and when Kimihiro looks up, it burns his eyes, snaps against his skin like Himawari's scarf.

"You," Himawari says with a laugh when he kisses the palm of her hand, feeling young and foolish, his mouth against her skin. The bike's gears click, and Shizuka says, "I'll fix it, then," and Kimihiro has to laugh, has to tilt his head back and look at the sky and laugh.

In between, it's like this: Himawari sleeps the longest, blankets pulled high, only a wash of hair falling over the pillow. Shizuka wakes up first, when there's the first hint of light, and he always stumbles out the door, mumbling about taking a run and finding the paper and picking up milk on the way home. Kimihiro wakes up in between them, when the sun's just warming the edge of the bed, and Himawari's making the sleepy sighs of the dozing.

He makes breakfast in the kitchen, always something fast and easy, that doesn't stain too easily. And when Shizuka gets back, wide-awake and smelling like cold air, Kimihiro lets him crowd into the kitchen, pressing Kimihiro against the counter. And together, they balance the plates into the bedroom, and they eat on the bed, on top of an old bedsheet, the window open to the morning.

"Good morning," Himawari says halfway through breakfast, when she's sitting up, pulling her hair out of her face. Pillow-crease lines are in her cheek, and there are sleepies in the corners of her eyes, and Shizuka wipes his mouth, then leans over to kiss her awake.

"Leave her alone," Kimihiro says, pointing his chopsticks at Shizuka threateningly. Shizuka flicks crumbs at Kimihiro, and then they're tussling, and Himawari's laughing, and there's a pillow in Kimihiro's face, and the food is scattered, but it's an old bedsheet, and the morning's bright, and their kisses taste like sunshine.

It begins like this: They meet every day to drink tea in the park. Kimihiro's still working for Yuuko, Shizuka's slowly taking over his family's shrine, and Himawari is finishing her coursework at the university. The park's not quite in the middle, but nearly, and so they meet there every day, just before three. It's too late to eat lunch, but Kimihiro still brings snacks, and sometimes Himawari brings cakes from a shop near the train station, and more often than not, Shizuka brings a blanket that they spread under a tree.

Himawari tries to sit as far in the sunlight as she can, and Shizuka tries to nap in the shade, and Kimihiro sits between them, chattering to them both, setting out snacks and tea, napkins folded like so. When there are crumbs and little else, he sits back and folds the unused napkins, making cranes and boats and tiny hats with crimped edges. Himawari prefers the boats, Shizuka swipes the hats, and Kimihiro tosses the cranes into his bag, where they're lost amongst his books and pens and scraps of shopping lists.

"Are you going to marry her?" Shizuka asks one day, when Himawari has already left, her bike clicking goodbye. Kimihiro folds a napkin, sliding his fingers to sharpen the crease, and says, "of course."

"And me?" Shizuka asks. Kimihiro folds the napkin once more, then grabs the edges, pulls. It pops into a hat, a little crooked, and Shizuka reaches out to take it.

"Maybe," Kimihiro says, and when Shizuka starts laughing, Kimihiro adds, peevishly, "probably not."

In all, it's like this: They're happy, and the sun is shining.