Second Button from the Top Suna Rintarou x Asano Kura
Day 4 of Yumenikah : Dress/Suit
—Kura pricks her finger while making 'minor adjustment' to Suna's suit, and Suna can only wonder what is this seemingly important minor adjustment.
***
“Ouch—!”
Kura pulls her finger back and stares at it. Blood starts to pool on the small wound and footsteps rush to the living room.
“Kura?”
Suna stands near the doorway, worry adorning his face.
“Are you okay?” He starts walking toward the woman who just shakes her head.
“No, I just … pricked myself.” She looks back down at her finger. “It doesn't really hurt.”
But Suna still stops in front of her, on the couch, and crouches so he can meet her eye line before holding her wrist and looking at her with a serious face.
“Let's run your wound under running water.”
“No, it's fine. I'll just wipe it off.”
Suna sighs. He knows how stubborn and strict she can be when it comes to herself.
“You'll get blood on the suit, Kura,” he says, “and I know you'd hate that.”
Kura boos at his words. “I know you'll say that.”
Suna doesn't mind dirt or tears since he's an athlete and that's just daily stuff for him, but to Kura, oh, God forbid she accidentally wet his shirt. She'll go on a panicked cleaning in a second.
“Well, I know you best after all.” Suna scoffs with his deadpan face. “But I'm serious, you need to get this washed.”
“And if I don't?”
Suna opens his other arm wide. “I'll carry you.”
Kura blushes at his suggestion. “R-rintarou! This is just a simple wound!”
“Ah, I don't know. Maybe you don't want it cleaned because you also have a sprained ankle and can't move from the sofa. So I can't be too careful.” Suna continues with his usual deadpan.
“Ugh … fine.” Kura huffs and stands up before showing him her ankles. “See? No sprained ankles.”
She knows he was sarcastic, but there has been more than one occasion where he has picked her up because he's worried about her, so she doesn't want to tempt him now.
Let's leave the bridal carry for the wedding, she thinks.
Suna hides his chuckles. “That's good. Let's go then.”
So, Suna leads her toward the kitchen where they store their first-aid kit. Kura carefully washes her wound under the running water while Suna grabs a bandaid and puts it over her finger which Kura thanks him for.
After making sure Kura's wound is fully treated, the couple walks back to the living room, and Suna finally decides to ask the question he’s been holding back on.
“What were you sewing anyway?”
“Minor adjustment.” Kura plops onto the sofa and picks up Suna's suit again, putting it on her lap.
It's still a few months until their wedding, but his suit is finished first before Kura's dress. Suna watches as Kura pats the suit with a smile. It's a simple, elegant, black and white suit with a long tail, crafted to perfectly fit the man.
So what adjustment is she making? Suna thinks.
As if knowing what he's thinking, Kura carefully separates the shirt from the blazer and opens the shirt, the second button from the top. Then he shows the buttonhole to him with a proud smile.
“Here.”
Suna leans down and finally sees it. Over the buttonhole, there's an unfinished crooked heart, the red thread still hanging with the needle, its size so small that if the shirt is all buttoned, he’s sure he won’t be able to see it.
“We don't have a sewing machine and I'm not the best at sewing,” she says bashfully, “so I did my best with the needle.”
While listening to her, the man moves to sit beside his fianceé, gawking in awe at her small gesture that means the world to him.
“Remember the time you gave me your second button?” Kura muses, closing her eyes. “Just think of this as a thank you.”
Hearing those words, Suna can’t help but let a shaky but genuine smile on his face. This is … more than he thought she would do. He thought she was just adjusting the length of the tailcoat or fitting the collar more, but no. No, what she did is far more important.
Without saying anything else, Suna quickly wraps his arms around Kura, making sure he doesn’t embrace her in a way that’ll make the needle still on the shirt prick her again. Kura is surprised by the sudden hug, but she eventually wraps her arms around Suna too and lets the tension on her shoulders go.
He puts his head on her shoulder and exhales. “I should be the one who thanked you.”
“Maybe we both need to thank each other,” says Kura.
“For once you're willing to accept a thank you?” The man snickers, still not letting go.
Kura laughs hearing those words. He's right. She wasn't one who can accept gratitude easily or genuinely as she used to think everything is a duty, something she must do so she can be a perfect person. But, now that's not the case, because—
“Well, you teached me how to.”