Thank You, For Being Here With Me

A small story idea I wanted to launch ever since I realized I wanted to develop the OCs I've come across from an old fic I used to do. This is gonna be my first story that doesn't involve Yaoi (surprisingly), so this will probably turn out interesting. This first chapter is based off an idea me and a friend of mine had for the couple, and I hope I'm not rushing to try it. Thanks so much for checking out this story and I hope you enjoy!

Characters: Makiko Huratana, Takeru Akumatsu, and others.

Warnings: Shall soon lead to M-rated content. For now, it shows a few signs and examples.

~Chapter One: It Had to Start Like This?~

"And that will be all for today."

At that call, all of the students stood up, ready to pack up and leave for home.

"Wait. Come to my desk, Akumatsu."

'Crap,' Shaking his head, the tall nineteen-year-old push out of his seat and walked over to his teacher. "Yeah?" He asked.

"I see your grades have changed over the semester," His chemistry teacher observed, leafing through a few documents. "You've went from Cs to Bs and a few As. This could guarantee a good spot for college entry exams." The crinkles of his teacher's eyes gave approval. "Very good, Takeru."

Not use to getting a compliment from a teacher, Takeru could only scratch the back of his head, tousling his own black hair.

"Right . . . I got that," Nodding, he hurried back to his seat, gabbed his book bag and books, and dashed out of the room without looking back. In the sea of students he walked through, he smiled a little to himself.

'Good grades in Chemistry and a guarantee from entrance exams,' He almost grinned. 'And they said I couldn't do it. But man, it's really all thanks to-'


Crimson-red eyes blinking, Takeru looked up and saw someone running over to him, something telling him that his day was getting better and better. Emerald-green eyes bright with life and innocence, the eighteen-year-old girl ran over to him, shoulder-length brown hair swaying as she did so.

"Hey, Makiko-san," He greeted when the petite girl made it. "What's the hurry?"

"It's raining," Informed Makiko, brushing away the small part of her bangs that were dyed a mixed of red and pink. "I wanted to know if you wanted to walk home together. I noticed you didn't bring an umbrella today."

"S-Sure," Nodded Takeru, face glowing the slightest as Makiko smiled happily. It rose up her button-nose and made her high-cheek bones make her face a little roundish. Very adorable. 'Makiko-san's adora . . . I gotta stop that,' He shook his head, mentally berating himself for his crush.

For as long as he knew Makiko Huratana, from tutor sessions to them just hanging out with their other friends, he found himself falling harder and harder in love with her. She was kind, thoughtful, sweet, nurturing, innocent, loveable, and more. He could go on and on. He could even see past her habit at crying, a flaw that he saw as endearing and sensitive. Oh yeah, he was in love.

'She wouldn't feel the same,' His head shook again. 'She probably sees me as a friend, or maybe a brother, like Ren-san.' He wanted to groan at the thought of being lumped in the same category as their red-haired friend. That was adding insult to injury.

"Are you alright, Takeru-san?"

Takeru looked around, now realizing that while in his musings, he and Makiko stood at the small entrance of their school, Makiko holding a bright blue umbrella.

"Yeah, I'm fine," He eyed at the rain, making a face at the heavy weather, before looking back at his companion. "Ready to go?"

"Mm-hm!" Nodding, Makiko suddenly took the older by the hand and leading the both of them down the small ramp of the school.

"M-Makiko-san?" Takeru really didn't want to stutter, but the cold air that bit at his skin everywhere, all except from the hand being held by a paler one. "You sure this is fine? You can take the umbrella, it's probably meant for one person anyway!"

"What? And leave you to get a cold? No way, Takeru-san!" Makiko shook her head stubbornly, though she was smiling kindly. "It's very fine. No one will think anything of it. A-Ah, I at least hope no one thinks anything of it. Two friends can walk under an umbrella together, right?"

'Not unless one friend wants to be more than friends, Makiko-san,' Sighing quietly, Takeru nodded and instead tried a bold move, looping his arm with Makiko. "At least we won't get hit by the rain like this, r-right?" He asked, flushing a turning away.

"Y-Yes," Makiko looked ahead and smiled at the puddles that splashed their way. "You really don't like the rain, Takeru-san?"

"Who would? It's too cold a depressing." Takeru stated, wiping at the rain that beaded on the leather of his jacket, gritting his teeth at the cold.

"Oh," Makiko shrugged as the two of them crossed a street and walk near the floodplain of their small town. Around this time of the wet season, the water was gathering in small puddles and the water-level rose a few feet, making the area seem like a larger river. The trees were shivering in the sheeting rain, and it seemed that all insects were hiding from the rain. "It is cold, but it does give chance for the trees to grow and get more water than usual. The whole town has some sort of sheen with rain," Makiko giggled. "Weird way of looking at this nasty weather, yes?"

Her companion gave his own shrug, looking at the corner of his eye to Makiko as they walked. Rain had caught in her hair and eyelashes, fanning her slightly wet hair around her shoulders and causing it to sparkle with rain drops. Those same drops gathered near her eyelashes, making them longer and bringing out her eyes more. His eyes drew to her lips.

Slightly parted, rain water had somehow gotten there, and the small dew-like drops scatter along her lips. Takeru licked his own, slightly chapped lips, and looked away. He was so close. So close to pressing his lips to those he would sometimes find himself staring at. Were they as soft as he wondered they were? Probably the softest. More softer than anything else.

'To kiss Makiko-san . . . Now I really lost it . . .'

"Are you sure you're alright, Takeru-san? You've been quiet for some time now," A warm palm pressed against his forehead, the lips on his mind pursed in thought. "Hm, you don't have a fever . . . But why is your face red?"

'Makiko-san, must you do this?' The young man's hands shook at his sides, Takeru's willpower holding them from grabbing Makiko by the sides and pulling her close. He wanted to rub his head into the small hand, gather more warmth and receive more of Makiko's innocent caresses. He wanted that and so much more.

'Makiko-san . . .' Takeru was at a lost. Lost in Makiko's voice, eyes, kindness, and his eyes in a stalemate with her own. How kind they were. How they shimmered and radiated with warmth and generosity. 'God damnit, you shouldn't be this close to me unless you mean it, Makiko-san . . .' The bubbling feeling in his chest felt ready to burst, his fingers twitching and ready to sweep the unsuspecting girl off her feet. What a primal need he was feeling. What a heart-wrenchingly emotion he wanted to release.

And just like that, the hand was suddenly gone, and Makiko was looking the other way.

The need was gone.

"Takeru-san, can you hear that?" Asked Makiko, cupping her hand around her ear. "It sounds like . . . Someone crying?" She suggested. Surprised at her discover, Takeru listened himself. Even with the thick pelting of the rain, something of a cry pierced through the weather.

"Yeah . . ." Takeru said, walking a little ahead and cupping his hands over his eyes. The floodplain below was sloshing with foam, throwing branches and leaves to and fro, and looking a deep color of midnight-blue. However, something was drifting in the rough waters, and Takeru's eyes widen as he saw a bopping black head.

Without another warning, Takeru skid down the slope of the hill and ran to the edge of the water, throwing off his jacket and boots and diving forward and splashing into the water.

"Takeru-san!" He heard Makiko's screech, but he knew he needed to devote his attention to the situation at hand. Kicking his legs and swimming against the rough currents, he rose and dove in and out of the water, trying to avoid the jagged rocks that were scattered and hidden in the water. A rock jabbed at his side, the black-haired adolescent cursing at the large wound that ripped near his ribs. His body twisted one way and his back hit a log, sturdily giving him something to hold onto.

"Takeru-san! Please, get out of the water!" Makiko raced and ran along the waters foamy edges, suddenly heavy winds almost knocking her off her feet. "You'll drown! What are you doing!?"

"I gotta do this! Just stay back, Makiko-" A crash of water gagged him, making him lose his hold on the log. He rose back to the surface, spitting up water, before his eyes looked around again. Spotting a black mass, he kicked and swam as fast as he could, rock that had gotten into the water jabbing and piercing his skin. His straining muscles were being dragged down by exhaustion, and his vision was starting to blue from all the rocking about he got from the currents.

Even with that and the high possibility of drowning, Takeru was not going to give up. Swimming with whatever last strength he had, he scooped up the black mass in his hand and held it to his chest as a tidal wave of water sent him underwater. The salt of the river stung his eyes and water ran into his nose and mouth, his free hand frantically reaching and grabbing ahold of something above. Takeru pulled himself and the small mass over the crashing waters and gasped for air, every nerve in his body burning with pain.

"Takeru-san! Hurry!" His red eyes, drugged with fatigue, lugged out to the small hand reaching to him, Makiko holding for dear life on an tree root that was a part of an oak tree. "Please, grab my hand! Takeru-san, PLEASE!"

"M-Makiko-san . . ." He threw his free hand once, twice, before his large hand grabbed a hold of Makiko's, his heavier height almost sending him and Makiko back into the water. Makiko was prepared, and with some sort of hidden strength, she pulled Takeru out of the rough waters, the two of them tumbling to the slope.

Takeru groaned as he landed, every part of his person aching and the world around him spinning in a blur of colors. He wanted to just lay there until all of the pain was gone. Yet that stubborn emotion called will was yipping at his heels, and the small creature in his arms was barely breathing.

"Takeru-san?" There was that warmth on his forehead again. Though half-lidded eyes, Makiko loomed over him, her white jacket and cotton blue sweater drenched and stained with mud and bits of grass. There was no happiness in dark green eyes. Only worry and fear. "Takeru-san, can you hear me?" Something of a dry sob escaped his lips, a small, sad smile making her lips trembling. "Why would you do that?"

He couldn't speak. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to explain his reason. But his breathing was troubled with exhaustion, his wounds and cuts stinging and his head pounding thickly through his skull. Instead, he rolled a little to his side, and placed te black mass he saved onto Makiko's lap. The latter gasped.

Takeru had saved a kitten from the floodplain. It's black fur, white chest, and belly were caked with mud and small bits of rocks. One of its paws looked damaged, it was breathing quickly and faintly, mewing faintly.

"Takeru-san . . ." Makiko's voice quavered.

"I . . . I'm alright, M-Makiko-san," Takeru panted through clenched teeth, struggling at talk with the pain swelling in his chest, his heart pounding as if it were to tear on the inside. "I thinking the kitten will be-be to if . . . If we get it to your gr-grandparent's place . . . Soon . . ." A vile ran out of stomach, and Takeru vomited onto the earth, a stage of vertigo making him land with a thud, back into the wet ground.

"Takeru-san!" Makiko's distant voice called out to him through the dark, his subconscious failing on him and something warm covering his own body. "Please, hold on! Takeru-san, hold on!"

The first thing that hurt was his head. Following this was the side of his abdomen, his legs, and soon, everything was in pain. His eyes shut tighter and tighter, his senses telling him to not give into the pain. Finally, with only a dull throbbing drumming on his head, Takeru opened his eyes.

He lifted one of his arms, wincing as he saw it was wrapped in a firm hold of bandages. Sitting up was a great difficulty, yet Takeru still managed as he sat himself against propped pillows and look over himself more. Thick gauze was wrapped around his torso, from below his pectorals to the top of his hips. Small patches were placed here and there on his other arm and legs, and his eyebrow twitched when he felt the uncomfortable itch of stitches near the temple of his head. He was shirtless, his jacket, T-shirt, and locket lying nearby with a pair of sweatpants covering his legs.

He looked pretty bad, but he'd been through worst.

'Alright, finding out what's wrong with me, accomplished. Next thing; Where the Hell am I?'

The room almost looked familiar. The walls looked paper-thin with their gold-beige paint, vases of flowers placed upon porcelain-fragile stands, a few paintings around. Takeru found himself lying in a tradition Japanese bed. He turned his head, and his nose was greeted by the smell of sandalwood and something that sent a shiver down his spine. It almost startled him when he saw it was bright auburn-colored hair.

Makiko lied next to him, curled up into a small ball with a green blanket tangled around her legs. Her head rested near Takeru's pillows and her hands were stretched before her, as if they were reaching to take Takeru's.

"Makiko-san?" Takeru whispered, reaching out with hesitation. His hand brushed away at the stray hairs that sprawled along her forehead, tan digits almost drawing imaginary circles around her rose-tinted cheeks. She was fast asleep, her chest rising and falling with every breath she took. Without a doubt, she looked utterly irresistible.

Exhaustion hit him again, and Takeru could only lie back and rest his hand on Makiko's cheek, his palm molding against the swell of soft skin. Curious, he dragged his head near her forehead, inhaling her scent once more. The rich and sweet aroma smelt better than the pastries he made at his uncle's bakery. It was not vanilla, lavender, or any other of those smells he thought girls would bathe in. It was something tantalizing, and something that just represented the young girl.

'She smells so good . . . So sweet . . .' He buried his nose into her hair, inhaling the intoxicating scent. His crimson eyes rolled to the back of his head. His heart was melting in his chest and his adrenaline was spiking his blood. Opening his eyes, he stared at Makiko's content face, his own face reddening with a heated look. 'So beautiful . . . So elegant, Makiko-san. You're perfect.' He thought, his head bowed and inhaling her scent once more.

"T-Takeru-san?" Eyes snapping open, Takeru jumped back and howled as his side stung with pain, falling back to the bed. "Takeru-san!?" Makiko called out again, sitting up and crawling over to him, grabbing hold of his cheeks, stilling him. "Takeru-san?" She asked again, her eyes large and wondering. Takeru stared back at them.

'What was I just doing then?' He asked himself. 'Sniffing her and holding her while she slept? Why the Hell like I'm acting like a perv and getting turned on like this?' Makiko's hands rested flat on his chest, her legs straddling his hips. 'Makiko-san, that's not helping!' He opened his mouth to voice out, but the words were caught in his throat. Makiko was now crying above him, eyes shut as tears rolled down her cheeks.


"Takeru-san!" She threw her arms around his neck, knocking the both of them to the bed with Makiko crying into Takeru's neck. Frozen with a slight pain in his side, Takeru could only hold his arms awkwardly in the air, the sweet scent filling his nose once more. "I-I was so worried a-about you! After you fell unconscious, I-I called Mr. McMahon and he got there in time b-before you got hypothermia. We took you h-here, my house, and we called a house doctor and Tetsuya-san, too. We didn't know when you would wake up . . ." Makiko whimpered.

"Tetsuya was here?" Takeru asked. He was shocked that a guy he never really got along with came and helped patched him up. He would have thought the near-sighted young man would have sewed him an extra foot, let alone fix his cuts.

"He-He still is," Makiko still had her hold on him. "He, your uncle, Mr. McMahon, and my grandparents. My brothers and sisters are staying at Ren's. They said they weren't sure when you would get wake up, so I stayed here t-to make sure you would be fine. You've been unconscious for two days."

"Makiko-san, that means you missed your classes!" Takeru sat up and shook his head, holding Makiko by her shoulders. "Y-You really care that much?" He asked, touched and flustered.

"O-Of course I do!" Makiko gave something of a glare, though relief ruled out the look. "Why wouldn't I?" She asked softly. Takeru groaned and fell back in the bed.

"Well . . . Shit!" Takeru sat up again.

"Takeru-san, your injuries-!"

"Makiko-san, what about the kitten? It's all right, right?" He asked worriedly. Makiko's smiled a little suddenly, nodding.

"Very fine. A little thin with an injured paw, but fine. My grandparents are taking care of it right now," She assured. Takeru closed his eyes and sighed with relief, grateful. Something wet landed on his shoulder, and he opened his eyes again to see Makiko weeping, sobbing quietly. "Takeru-san . . ." She whispered helplessly, resting her head on his shoulder and crying.

"Makiko-san, why are you still crying?" His arms remained at their sides, and he was worried. He was fine, the kitten was fine. So why was she crying?

"I-I didn't know wh-what to do!" She confessed, shaking and sobbing. "Tetsuya-san and Sensei said that you would be alright, b-but still!" Watery green eyes blinked and glassed at him, freezing Takeru in place. "I-I couldn't do anything to h-help! You just lied there and looked l-like you were on D-Death's door! Takeru-san," Makiko pressed her face to his neck and cried. "I-I thought you were going to die! You're one of my most im-important people, and I . . . I-" She shook her head and wailed. "I can't imagine m-my life without you! What could I do if you weren't in my life?" She asked, holding onto him, as if she was afraid he would die in her arms then and there.

Takeru sat there, the shocking waves of emotions crashing over and over as Makiko hiccupped and cried. Makiko cared so much for him. Almost as much as he cared for her. The feeling was nice, warm and clocking him like a blanket. He was happy that Makiko cared so much. But he didn't want her to be like this. Not crying in on his lap while he sat like a ragdoll.

Makiko gasped as arms wrapped around her, bringing her flush against Takeru's chest with her chin over Takeru's shoulder. One hand held her by the small of her back with the other held the back of her head, Takeru resting his cheek on her collarbone. Their hearts matched in tempo, the warm embrace accelerating their pulses.

"Don't ever worry about me dying, you hear Makiko-san?" Takeru asked firmly, his embrace tightening. "You gotta remember that I'm too tough and stupid to just die. Besides," His face heated, from his chin rested on the swells of her breasts and his speech. "I can't just go off and die, leaving you on your own now can I?" He tried to joke a little, though he was serious. "Whose gonna look after a crybaby like yourself if I just kick the bucket?"

"I-I am not a crybaby." Came Makiko's rebuttal.

"Don't lie," Takeru pulled her a little away and smiled. "It does you no justice."

Shy hands slid down and lopped around his neck, trembling lips a hair's breadth away from his own. Takeru was tongue-tied.

"Calling yourself "too tough and stupid" does you no justice," A warm sensation sealed over his lips, his dark eyes widening at the simple press of the lips. His hands were shaking, and he could feel Makiko's hands shaking around his neck. The kiss was so soft, so innocent, and he could barely register the passion of it. After two more seconds, Makiko pulled away, her entire face rosy and embarrassed.

"W-Was that OK, Takeru-san?" She asked nervously.

"No," Takeru shook his head and pulled Makiko closer to him. "It wasn't enough." His lips embraced her soft and moist pair, surprising Makiko's as he deepened it with passion and cause her to shiver. Something of a mewl came from Makiko and her hands shyly went into Takeru's hair, the simple touch causing Takeru to groan and pull her impossibly closer, their chest pressed together, the feeling so right.

With wind escaping her lungs, Makiko felt weak and fell to the ground, Takeru following her as they lay on the mix of soft blankets and pillows. Kiss after kiss did they meet, rekindling the passion they found and confessed to one another. The both of them were lost in the moment, Makiko's small hands caressing every part of Takeru's face and shyly tugging on his hair. One of Takeru's hands rested on her hip while another wanted to wander.

"Makiko-san," He pulled away from the kiss, eyes dropping to her chest. Would it be wrong to ask? With her cheeks tinted red, Makiko carefully grabbed his wrist, guiding his hand to the middle of her chest. The young man's heart nearly stopped.

"J-Just not too far," She whispered, bending forward and nuzzling his neck. "Your injuries will be reopened . . ."

"Y-Yeah," He wouldn't go far. Kissing and caressing worked just find. His hand slid down and laid on one breast, face flushing at the supple swell. He brushed at each one, head spinning at the touch and ears filling with Makiko's small gasps. Makiko pulled him into another kiss, one last sweet and chaste one, before pulling away and resting her forehead on his chest.

"Takeru-san," She almost asked, panting a little. "What does this mean?"

"What . . . Do you want it to mean, Makiko-san?" Takeru asked, hands resting on Makiko's waist as she sat on his lap. It was just a sin, her sitting on him like that after the embrace they just shared.

"I . . . I want it to mean a lot," She confessed, pressing small kisses to Takeru's neck. "I want it to mean many things."

Takeru sighed, all emotions within him unlocked, and running rampant like a busted dam. This had to mean what he thought it meant.

"Great," He placed his hand on Makiko's cheek, smiling. "I want it to mean a lot, too." He suddenly made a face and groaned, leaning back into bed. "Maybe I should get better, though. You know, when I can move my ribs again?"

Makiko's agreement was in a giggle.

"Well, damn," A man with light stubble and black hair clapped Takeru on the back. "Three days and you're better already, boy."

"Shut the Hell up, old git," Takeru muttered under his breath, wincing at the small spasm of pain that ran up his spine. It had been a day since his stay at the Huratanas. Much to everyone's surprise, Takeru was starting to get better already, his new scars fading and his side wound patched up and almost healed. Though his back was still suffering from a little pain, it was nothing he couldn't handle.

"So . . ." His uncle's arm was over his shoulder and his eye brows gave a wiggle. "When we got back here last night, you seemed like something good happened. So," A perverse glint was in his maroon eyes. "Did ya get some action."

"The fuck!?" Takeru tore away from the older man, glaring at his smirking face. "What kind of freakin' uncle asks his nephew about that?!"

"The smart kind who wants the details," His uncle wagged his finger at him with a knowing look. "And judging by how you're acting, something did happen," He smirked, enjoying how red Takeru's face was getting by the second. "So, how was it, young nephew?"

"Like it's any of your God danmed business!"

"Ha! So something did happen!"

A knock was heard at the door, and Takeru shot his relative a death glare as he walked to the front of the house and yanked the door open, almost jumping when it was revealed to be Makiko holding a small blue bundle.

"I-I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" She asked, blushing.

"Nonsense!" Takeru's uncle walked over and bought the poor girl inside, grinning wildly. "Hello, Makiko-chan. And how are you today?"

"Very well, Akumatsu-san." Replied the brunette.

"Makiko-chan," Takeru's uncle tsk'ed. "How many times I told you to call my Gintaro-san or Gintaro-oji? We're practically family now, since you and my young nephew-"

"THAT'S ENOUGH OUT OF YOU!" Takeru waved his fists about angrily, readily shoving his uncle to the kitchen. "Don't you have some kind of order to get ready for some party?"

"Right!" Gintaro snuck a wink over his shoulder. "You two be good! Don't do it without protection!"

"OUT!" Takeru shouted one last time, quickly leading Makiko to the front door and to the front pouch. Smacking his forehead, the tall, black-haired student recomposed himself and turned to Makiko. "Sorry about that, Makiko-san. The old git's just talking shit again."

"That's fine," Makiko nodded. "He's trying to look out for us in his own way."

'Yeah, his pervy way.'

"Takeru-san," The bundle in Makiko's hands moved, and out popped a head of white and black fur, the kitten mewing at him. "I bought the kitten, in case you wanted to see it." She said brightly, watching the little fur ball swat its paws to Takeru. Taking the small feline himself, Takeru held the little guy up and smiled.

"Heh, he heals fast, too," He observed. "So, what are you gonna do with him?"

"I don't know," Makiko shrugged honestly. "We can't take care of him at my place since there are so many children there. It wouldn't be right to have his ears and tail pulled at after that experience."

Takeru nodded. With little kids bounding all over the place, the little kitten wouldn't make it. He eyed the cat in his hands, before bringing it close at smiling. "I'll take 'im."

"Really?" Asked Makiko.

"Yeah," The cat pawed at the silver locket around his neck, Takeru laughing as he did so. "I always wanted a cat, and this little guy seems to like me, don't ya boy?" The kitten mewed and licked at his nose, causing Makiko and Takeru to laugh.

"I'm glad," Makiko stepped close and suddenly hugged the young man. "Thank you."

"Hey, I like cats?" Takeru was a little confused, though he did return the hug.

"Not just that," Makiko pressed a kiss to his nose. "Thank you, for being here with me. I really do like you, Takeru-san."

" . . . Takeru."


"Just call me Takeru, Makiko-san," Takeru's face went red, though he was smiling. "We're close enough to call each other like this, yeah?" Makiko stared at him, before kissing his cheek and smiling.

"Yes, Takeru." She agreed, the small kitten mewing between them. This only caused the both of them to laugh in each others arms.


There's still more to go in this little romance! Please forgive me for any spelling errors! I hope you all liked this and thanks again for checking this out!

This is me saying, Peace!