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“You know, Momo,” Kyouka starts, swiftly jumping and landing face up on Momo’s gigantic and ridiculous bed with her arms and legs spread like a starfish, “I was a pretty stupid kid.”
Momo curiously tilts her head. “What brought this on?” she questions, flipping the lightswitch and sitting herself carefully on the edge of her bed.
“Was just thinking about it,” Kyouka says, shrugging. She stretches her leg over to prod at Momo’s thigh with her toes, prompting Momo to look back over her shoulder at her. She pats the bed beside her, and Momo takes the hint easily, clambering up onto the bed and crawling over Kyouka’s leg to lie at her side, arms resting behind her head. Kyouka retracts her limbs to her sides to allow Momo more room.
“I always got in fights,” Kyouka explains once they’re settled, her hands now resting on her stomach, “with the neighborhood boys. Over dumb stuff, like who got to use the sandbox.”
Momo lets out a bit of a chuckle, and the gentleness of it reminds Kyouka of blowing bubbles in her backyard and watching as they floated away in the breeze, and of the aftermath, the stickiness left over on her fingers after she’d dropped the bubble wand into the container and had to fish it back out.
“I can’t say that I’m surprised,” Momo chimes, turning her head from where she’d been looking upwards and to Kyouka. Her eyelashes look soft and eyes softer even in the faint light that streams in through the window behind the bed.
“I’d come home with, like, nicks and bruises all the time, and I’d tell my parents I was out playing in the woods,” Kyouka continues, diverting her gaze to the dark canopy over the bed as to not stare at Momo for too long. “I don’t know if they ever believed me, but they’d laugh and pat me on the back and then give me enough money to go and buy a box of bandages at the convenience store down the street.”
Kyouka can still feel Momo’s eyes on her, so she rolls onto her side to face Momo, tucking one of her hands between her cheek and one of Momo’s many pillows. Momo follows suit, her hands crossed at the wrist on the bed between them.
“I always bought neon ones,” Kyouka says, corner of her mouth pulling slightly upwards. “And even though I never needed to, I’d stick one of the bridge of my nose, like…” She reaches towards Momo with her free hand, dragging the tip of her index finger from one of Momo’s cheeks, across her nose, and to the other.
Momo smiles at the touch, and Kyouka feels a dusting of heat high on her own cheekbones. She clears her throat and takes back her hand, letting her index finger fiddle with one of her ear jacks.
“That’s very cute,” replies Momo, smiling sweetly, still. Her gaze wanders down, trailing across the bridge of Kyouka’s nose. “Did you think it looked cool?”
Kyouka hums her affirmation, two-toned. The corners of Momo’s eyes crinkle, and she reaches over to capture Kyouka’s hand in one of her own, letting them fall, entwined, back onto the bed.
“You already know that my childhood was a bit different,” she says, “Lots of studying. I didn’t get out to play much, and I had a private tutor instead of going to school.”
Kyouka can hear the words of their classmates in the back of her mind: That’s what’s to be expected of a rich girl! Instead, though, she asks, “Did you like that?”
Momo nods, her cheek rubbing against the pillow it presses to. “I did really enjoy it,” she says, “I didn’t really know what I was missing out on, though.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Kyouka assures, “You’re at U.A. now with all of us, so…”
“So we’ll make up for lost time,” Momo finishes for her, and as she speaks, her eyes flutter closed for a moment, eyelashes brushing her upper cheeks. Kyouka knows they would feel soft to the touch, like feathers.
“If you wanna find a sandbox to fight over, then sure,” Kyouka teases, and laughter bubbles softly out from Momo’s chest. “You didn’t miss out on much from elementary and middle school, I promise. A lot of snivelling kids, mostly, which… now that I think about it, you’re experiencing anyway, with Mineta…”
Momo grimaces just at the mention of his name, and Kyouka doesn’t blame her. He’s a particularly vile classmate that she wouldn’t hesitate throttling on Momo’s behalf if given the chance, quite honestly.
They’re quiet for a moment, only the sound of Kyouka’s feet shifting against the covers audible. Her feet are cold, though she doesn’t like to sleep with socks on, so she pulls her hand slowly from Momo’s and heaves the heavy quilt over her legs and torso. Momo remains lying on top of the covers on her side, and Kyouka, just briefly, glances down her body, at the curve of her hips and the pudge of her stomach against her sleep gown. She wants to kiss her—to kiss Momo all over.
“Kyouka,” says Momo, then, and her given name on Momo’s lips makes her feel particularly weak even now, “Have you ever read stories about soulmates… like the red string of fate?”
Kyouka chews at her bottom lip for a moment, and Momo looks at her under drowsy eyelids.
“I’ve heard of that,” she confirms.
“I’ve always wondered this—do you think you would ever meet your soulmate if we lived in a universe where there were soulmates?”
Momo rolls to lie on her back again. When Kyouka makes no move to respond, she starts again, folding her hands together over her stomach, “It’s just, the chances would be so low. Out of all the people in the world, all the language barriers, and all the land and sea barriers…
“But even so,” she continues, still speaking to the ceiling. Kyouka gaze rests on Momo’s side profile, watching her lips and jaw move as she speaks, “I know that statistically, this would be very unlikely, but I really feel…”
Momo trails off to nothing, casting a look over to Kyouka. Even in the dark, Kyouka can see the flush that’s made a temporary home on Momo’s cheeks and on the tips of her ears.
Holy shit, Kyouka thinks, eyes wide as she observes Momo’s blush. Holy fucking shit, she’s cute.
“Do you think we would be soulmates, Kyouka?”
It’s honestly a miracle that Kyouka’s still alive and breathing, considering that Momo worries her bottom lip between her teeth as she awaits an answer, considering that Momo thinks they’re soulmates, considering that Momo is Momo and Momo is beautiful…
After she swallows thickly, Kyouka says, “Who’s to say there aren’t soulmates in this universe?” Her voice comes out smaller than she’d intended, and the tips of her ears feel hot as she and Momo make eye contact.
“I never pegged you as one to believe in soulmates,” Momo admits with a outward breath. “But, maybe you’re right.”
And then—“I want to kiss you,” Kyouka blurts, “very badly.”
Momo laughs—bubbles and tinkling of bells—and she says, “I’d like to kiss you, too.”
“What are we waiting for, then,” Kyouka mutters as she rolls over and pulls herself up onto her hands and knees, leaning over towards Momo.
Momo leans upwards to meet Kyouka in the middle, though her neck cranes off of the pillow, so Kyouka sets a hand on her shoulder to gently push her back down. She places her hands on either side of Momo’s head and then sinks to her elbows, nudging at Momo’s nose with her own.
“Soulmates, huh…” Kyouka whispers, and Momo’s breath is hot against her lips.
After Momo’s eyes shut, Kyouka lets her own as well, and then she presses her mouth to Momo’s. It’s lazy and slow, how their lips part and reconnect, languid. There is no rush—they have each other and they have all the time they need. Momo takes Kyouka’s bottom lip slowly between her teeth, and Kyouka shudders a breath against her.
“You’re wonderful,” Kyouka murmurs, parting to press a wet kiss to Momo’s cheek, and then up and to her eyelid. Momo’s lips part into a velvety smile as Kyouka kisses down her nose, and then she seals Momo’s smile again with her own lips.
Kyouka’s mouth eventually finds its way down Momo’s jaw and down the column of her neck, while Momo makes breathy sounds above her. Her breathing hitches as one of Kyouka’s hands trails down her side, resting on her hip and squeezing.
Reaching the collar of Momo’s shirt, Kyouka lifts her hand back up to move the collar to the side and kiss along Momo’s collarbone.
Momo raises both her hands to cup Kyouka’s face, bringing her back up to connect their lips again, once, twice. Then, she loops her arms up around Kyouka’s neck and pulls her down into a hug, Kyouka’s cheek pressing against Momo’s.
“I love you,” Momo says, and Kyouka lets out a breath, her shoulders relaxing. “You know that, don’t you?”
Kyouka pulls back to look at Momo, both their eyes wide and breathing heavy.
“I love you,” Kyouka responds, leaning so that their foreheads press together. “So much, Momo.”
Momo smiles, gentle and stunning. “Do you think we’re soulmates?”
“Yeah, I think so.”