A/N: This is it. I cannot sign off from this fanfic without thanking the people who have supported me throughout this long MidoKi affair: Stephane Richer, Ginpachi-sensei, pSychedeliCoo, Pokopen, Monkey D. Writer and heya *bows deeply*. I have tested your patience and might've completely lost your interest along the way, I know.
I have ended this in a way I never would've imagined in the beginning.
It gets painfully cold when there hasn't been sunshine for too long.
It's not as if it has never snowed in Japan, but when you're gritting your teeth through months of incessant snow, the winters back home begin to seem like a walk in the park. A nice, warm park, at least—as of the moment, a walk in the park in Massachusetts is probably not the wisest choice.
But this routine is a responsibility, and Midorima does his duties well.
His duty to his family is to study well, and make certain that the thousands of dollars his education costs is a gainful investment. His duty to himself is to fulfil the potential he has always recognized. Biomedical Engineering in Harvard. This dream is who Midorima has always been.
On this park bench, he could fully remember the weight of his duty, the weight that hung over the flat he shared with Kise two years ago. It was a couple of months before Midorima was set to leave for US when they both admitted to themselves that the home they have created was about to collapse.
A home simply cannot exist with the Pacific between its walls.
"I have done my research," Midorima said as he sat on their bedside. He pushed his eyeglasses up, a taped hand covering the growing heat in his eyes. "Long-distance relationships don't work."
"Well then, Shin," Kise quietly replied as he took soundless steps towards him. Midorima wanted to crush him in his arms and put as much distance between them at the same time. He wanted to run but his lashes were wet.
Kise settled beside him, his heat radiating. Then he continued, "Let's not have one."
This is how Midorima learns that Kise has chosen his path, how he learns about the National Aviation Academy, and the park bench halfway between it and Harvard.
This is how he understands who he is, who Kise is, and how much more they could be, together. And the weekly walk in the park to that bench, no matter the probability of frostbite, is just another duty he promises to fulfill.
It's the same summer voice that finds him. It's the same bright eyes that meet his, clouded with none of Midorima's doubts. It's the same sunshine smile and finally,finally, Midorima is warm. Warm enough that the corners of his lips curve up.
It takes a stern fifteen-minute lecturing about the preciousness of a Harvard student's time, a bunch of apology kisses and other inappropriate PDA before Midorima slips his taped fingers through the spaces of Kise's. As they walk through the slush of snow, Kise wraps his "totally New York" scarf around Midorima's neck (unnecessary, since Kise's kisses have left Midorima warm and beet red from the neck to the tips of his ears).
Call it crazy, call it bullshit, call it just two more idiots headed for a car crash. Midorima and Kise choose to call it free fall.
Sunshine and rain
Make a beautiful thing