Archive of Our Own ^beta

 

“They got into an argument that made it impossible to continue the interview.” - I recalled the event in detail after reading the report with Margarete.

“Are they seriously thinking they’re fooling anyone with this little act?" - she let out a cynical laugh. - "How pathetic."

"Don’t say that. It’s disrespectful of you." - I warned my colleague, feeling a bit angry about her harsh comment. - "Although I don't understand the commotion over an innocent question, we are not in a position to judge them for their hidden motives."

“Uh-huh, sure.”

I didn’t need to see to know she was rolling her eyes. It was typical of Margarete to act that way. Instead, I went back to observing the duo at the table, who, due to the lack of lip movement, I assumed had stopped their argument. In fact, they were displaying soft expressions on their faces while watching something on the phone together. I think I’m starting to understand my dear sister’s frustration with them.

“They’re so obvious that they don’t even need to tell us.” - I heard this curious comment beside me.

“What are you referring to?”

“Come on, I’m talking about the real status of their relationship.”

“So Margarete can understand them?” - as I looked at her, admiring her high level of comprehension, she stared at me with a furrowed brow in disbelief. - “Margarete?”

“…I’m starting to think they are not the only dense ones in this story.”

“‘Dense?’”

“Who’s next?”

Ignoring my question completely, the owner of turquoise eyes turned her attention back to the notebook, which now displayed the interview with all the second-year seniors.

 

“Interviewing four people at once proved to be a challenge for me, but the results are promising.” - I couldn't help but feel proud of my shrewd decision, and apparently, my colleague was equally surprised. - "Don't you agree, Margarete?"

"Do you seriously have a pink pen just to write things about your sister?" - she went straight to the main point.

"I knew you would notice." - I had the impression that she murmured something, but I went ahead with my explanation. - "When it comes to extensive research, it's important to highlight the main points to make the review of the study efficient."

"Are you sure you read what you wrote?" - Margarete tapped irritably on the notebook as if she wanted to show me something I didn't know. - "The other senpais contributed much more here."

"I understand the relevance of their comments, that's why I asked my dear sister for a detailed explanation." - I never stopped returning the sharp look directed at me. Apparently, I was mistaken about Margarete's absolute understanding of what is most important. - "If it weren't for that, my success rate would be below forty percent."

"Oh, yeah? And what is this extremely important detail that you discovered?" - her mocking tone didn't go unnoticed by my ears.

"See. I learned that there was a period when she and the second-year senpais did extensive training in Kinako-senpai's hometown, and she experienced many unique things. For example, following an exercise schedule, respecting specific diets, waking up with the goats, and going to sleep after an outdoor bath." - I listed each point of my conversation with my sister. Notes were not needed at that time because there isn't a word she says that I can forget. - "She even said that Hokkaido has the best sweet potatoes in Japan and that one day she would take me there to try them. My dear sister is really very kind."

"That doesn't contribute anything to your research!" - Margarete seemed indignant with my priorities. - "Seriously. You’re a hopeless case when it comes to Natsumi-senpai"

"I take seriously every piece of information my dear sister shares. She is my life inspiration."

"Please, find a real good influence for yourself."

"She is more than a good example to me, Margarete." - many childhood moments flooded my head. Memories I cherish dearly. - "I dare say she is to me what Kanon-senpai is to you."

"That's irrelevant!" - Margarete's voice cracked here. It was cute, but she cleared her throat to resume her powerful and unwavering voice. - "Anyway, it’s undeniable the compatibility between the senpais nowadays."

She straightened her back and crossed her legs, looking beyond the horizon in the direction I suspect to be towards our second-year seniors.

"At the beginning, I thought they were a bunch of weaklings that would soon bring Liella to ruin."

"Isn't that a bit mean to say?"

"But it's the truth, isn't it? You must have researched their first performances as nine." - she had an indisputable point. Even with my limited technical knowledge at the time when I watched the shows, I could notice the discrepancy among the members. - "But after reading this interview, I think I understand why that didn't happen."

This time, I shifted my focus to the quartet. At that moment, they were all tangled up with my sister, who had the selfie stick raised over them. Judging by the static poses, a photo was being taken. With this, it totaled five just this week.

"If your strength is insufficient, unite with others." - now with my gaze back to my companion, I could see an indecipherable expression on her face. - "Or so some say out there."

"And do you agree?"

"It's not all bad." - short and not very enlightening, her sentence ended in an open-ended way. Margarete uncrossed her legs to cross them in another way, and then her gaze returned to the notes. - "Now we have Ren-senpai and… no one? You only interviewed her?"

I stared at her in silence for a few seconds. Her ambiguous answer and the sudden change of topic intrigued me. You are a mystery. A louder sigh than I would have liked escaped my lips.

"That's right. Of all the Liella seniors, Ren-senpai is the only one without a specific partner. I've seen her holding hands with Chisato-senpai or Kanon-senpai, and another time with Mei-senpai or Keke-senpai, but they were in entirely different contexts." - I realigned my train of thought to focus on the true subject of this conversation. - "I believed this differential would give me a new perspective, but..."

"But things didn't go as expected. Again." - without hesitation, Margarete concluded the frustrating part. I lowered my head and fixed my eyes on the ground, following the patrol of ants carrying away the takoyaki crumbs. - "...But I'm sure nothing will be wasted."

And her words were insightful enough to capture my attention.

"Well~ Why do you think I'm reading all this, hmm?" - a smug smile adorned her face.

"Because you said there was nothing else interesting to do."

"T-that's how it started, but since I'm here, I can contribute too, right?" - she lifted her chin. - "My opinion is very valuable, in case you haven't noticed."

"Yes..."

"Don't give me a grumpy 'yes'!" - as expected, she got irritated by that. But her characteristic smile soon returned to the scene. - "Come on. It can't be so complicated that two geniuses like us can't understand."

Margarete's confidence is indeed an admirable quality. Perhaps with a little more faith, she can give me an answer that I haven't found yet.

“It was an abrupt ending, but I didn’t feel up to continuing the interview, and… Margarete?”

She didn’t seem to hear me. In fact, several times during her silent reading, she narrowed her eyes and brought her face closer to the notes, concentrating intensely on the writing. Is she having trouble?

“Do you have any degree of astigmatism?”

“I don’t!” — and as usual, she turned angrily toward me. — “What’s with these complicated words?! Are you trying to turn this into an article for a scientific board?”

“I’m just writing down what I’m told. And no, I have no intention of publishing my results unless I see an opportunity for it to boost Liella’s success and—”

“Impossible.” — she interrupted me. Rude. With a sigh strong enough to create a breeze, Margarete expelled her indignation: — “Why am I surrounded by weirdos?”

I refrain from commenting and retrieve the forgotten tray of takoyakis from my side. Hopefully, they’re still warm. I allow myself to savor the octopus dough again, but this time, I observe the eccentric Ren-senpai. She’s still engrossed in her portable game console, given the sinister smile on her face. This intrigues me. My knowledge of games would be limited to puzzle ones if I hadn’t watched gameplay videos from my dear sister. I can understand their point of enjoyment, but Ren-senpai takes them to an unusual level of seriousness. I wonder what hooks her so deeply. Just as I’m concluding this thought, Margarete skewered a takoyaki without any prior indication of the move.

“Hey, Tomari.” — she twirled the stick between her fingers, mesmerized by the ball of dough spinning back and forth. — “Did you accept Ren-senpai’s invitation?”

“I couldn’t, as my schedule for this week was already set, but I also don’t plan to visit her anytime soon.”

“Maybe you should.” — this statement made me turn my head completely in her direction.

“Why?”

“If someone as disciplined as Ren-senpai makes a face like that while playing, delivers a Shakespearean-style speech about a mediocre story, and claims that those games help her be more assertive with her peers, then you might discover one or two things you’re looking for.”

And she took a bite of the crispy dough, leaving me to digest this dense opinion. If I were writing this conversation, I would have highlighted that part. I felt my lips curve into a smile.

“That was quite insightful coming from you, Margarete.” — and somehow, she managed to convey her displeasure with my comment even with her cheeks puffed up with takoyaki. She never fails to show her annoyance. — “I think now we can analyze the next interview.”

Without waiting for her confirmation, I turn the page for her and reveal the most recent research I’ve conducted.

 

I was waiting for Margarete’s comments, but she remained silent with her eyes fixed on the page. I considered the possibility that she was still reading, but there was something different about her silence. Then she began to apply unnecessary pressure on the notebook.

“Margarete?” — I was about to touch her hand, but the moment my finger met her skin, she recoiled with a speed that surprised both of us. Consequently, I stepped back. What kind of reaction was that? — “Is something wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” — she averted her wide eyes to the side.

“But you were trembling.”

“Just your impression.” — was all she said.

“Negative. Your fingers crumpled the edges of the page.” — I pointed out the fact and saw her arm muscles tense up. — “Did something bother you?”

“Yeah, yeah! It was that... that sappy stuff from the two of them!” — her mocking response didn’t sound convincing at all. — “They just said… trivial things! I don’t know how you didn’t see this as a waste of time.”

“On the contrary: it was the most enlightening interview.” — I needed to pause the interrogation to defend my seniors. — “From it, I was able to identify common points with the others and distinguish each one’s individual traits.”

“And did you come to any conclusion?” — and it was her turn to corner me.

“…I’m afraid not.”

I leaned in closer to her to get a better look at the notebook in her lap, which gave her a start. I turned to understand her reaction, but she again averted her gaze. I even thought about questioning her, but it would be useless given her evasive history. So, ignoring her this time, I went to the last page of the notebook, revealing the various arrows, scribbles, and drafts filling it, but more than anything, the question marks dominating the page. It was confusing compared to my normal notes but was a perfect representation of my thoughts on the subject.

“This is just a bunch of meaningless scribbles.”

“I’m still in the process of data analysis.” — I frowned at her dismissive attitude. — “I just need to gather more evidence and everything will be concluded.”

“In other words: that last one was a waste of time.” — before I could contest her, a call from afar interrupted our argument:

"Tomari-chan! Margarete-chan! Don’t fall behind!"

“And speaking of the devil…”

Waving to us was our coach and president of the School Idols club, flashing a smile as white as her hair. Now that she brought my attention back to the plaza, I noticed all the seniors were already standing, backpacks on their shoulders, ready to head back to the streets of Tokyo. The sky was no longer as bright, and the first streetlights had begun to turn on. When did time pass so quickly?

“Shall we?”

Following the example of the others, Margarete also stood up. I was still uneasy about her previous attitude, but there was no way I could refuse her call. Reluctantly nodding, I grabbed my bag and followed her out of the place. Although we all gathered here to rest, Chisato-senpai had been working the whole time, and since she still needed to fulfill her duties, she stayed behind—but not alone. Kanon-senpai chose to remain as company, continuing the light and relaxed conversation they’d been having all afternoon.

"How many hours do they spend together?" — I thought out loud after saying goodbye with a wave and a "thank you." Margarete merely gestured, without even looking back.

“More than you could time. After all, they’re childhood friends.” — she pointed out in an obvious way, but then brought up a reflection: — “But those over there seem to pass the time in the same way.”

Even though we are distant from our seniors, we walk at our own pace, observing the endless enthusiasm in their interactions. It was possible to assume an incessant conversation between them, notice them bumping into each other, “hear” a silent exchange of laughter, and also be sure that my dear sister and Sumire-senpai had a small disagreement there. Despite each member having their preferred circle of friends, they all get along equally well. Then I turned my attention back to Margarete, who walked as silently as I did, but with her focus on the notebook still in her hands. Her expression remained impassive.

“So you still don’t understand, do you…” — she whispered more to herself than asked me. Still, I decided to respond.

“Unfortunately. My curiosity has proven more complicated to resolve than I anticipated. However, as I mentioned, I just need one more piece of evidence to conclude my work.”

Politely saying "excuse me" — which didn’t prevent her from getting startled again — I took the notebook from her hand and grabbed the pen I always keep clipped to my collar.

“Now that we’ve finished reading all my progress, we can return to the initial point that led us to this topic.”

I flipped to a new page with a previously written header and read it aloud:

---

TAKE 5: MARGARETE

"What were your experiences of holding hands with someone?"

M: …Are you serious?

She looked stunned, as if it were the first time she had heard this question. At least she wasn’t at risk of choking like last time.

“Yes. Even though I haven’t seen you having this physical contact with the Liella members, your experience outside of that will still be of excellent help for my study.”

Even when it came to my own words, I transcribed with impressive speed and accuracy. After doing this for a week, my writing had naturally become more agile.

Margarete sighed after a long pause in silence. It seemed like she was finally about to say something.

M: I haven’t●

But it wasn’t the kind of response I was expecting. I turned to her, wanting to visually confirm her statement.

“…You haven’t?”

“Yeah, I haven’t.” — she just repeated her initial answer and shrugged.

“With no one? Not even with your parents or other relatives?”

“You don’t want a childhood report about how my sister used to take me to the park holding hands, do you?” — Margarete raised an eyebrow, but quickly dropped it with a roll of her eyes, and I swear I heard her mumble: — “I barely even had that.”

I looked at the poorly filled page, with a blot in the middle formed by the pen I had forgotten pressed against the paper. I needed to write something, so I challenged my fist to move.

“And at your previous school before Yuigaoka? Did you ever go home holding hands with any classmates?”

M: I didn't even record the name of anyone from that place.

“And in Austria? Surely you made friendly contacts in your home country.”

M: I was born solely and exclusively devoted to music. I didn't have time to waste on childish trivialities.

Her words were bitter and easily interpreted as arrogant, coming from a girl raised in a serious and powerful family. However, that interpretation didn’t quite sit right with me — and I wanted to know why.

“Is that still true?”

M: It has never stopped, not even for a second.

“If that’s the case, why do you attend frivolous events like today’s?”

“Huh?!” — her contorted face turned to me.

“There’s nothing in these Liella outings that adds to your musical journey. Being here is a waste of time.” — my eyes narrowed in her direction, focused on not missing a single detail. — “Or am I wrong?”

“You…!”

Margarete stopped her walk and I stopped along with her. She looked through my eyes as if seeking confirmation in the seriousness of my questioning. Which is unnecessary, since I always speak seriously.

She bit her lips before responding bitterly:

M: You know how they are! I’m sure they’d be a pain if I refused to go!

“So if they weren’t a “pain”, would you refuse then?”

She opened and closed her mouth several times, but no words came out, only the sound of her grinding teeth.

She no longer looked at me, but I saw her eyes trembling.

“Or would it also be a problem if they stopped inviting you?”

With each question I raised, she clenched her fists tighter, and her silence became unbearable amidst the growing noise of the outside world. I lowered my arms and looked around. We were standing in the middle of the sidewalk. The late afternoon was winding down and adults were leaving work. With each passing second, the street became more crowded, and more pedestrians veered around us as if we were just another obstacle in their path. I turned my head toward the direction our seniors were walking. The crowd of black suits dominated the sidewalk, but the same monochrome that obscured my vision also highlighted the girls' iconic hairstyles. They were farther away than initially and showed no signs of reducing that distance. Amidst all the people, there were only the two of us left. Unintentionally, my grip crumpled the page. I needed to try one more time.

“Margarete—”

“Enough!” — and a southern breeze swept her dense hair into the air. The few remaining rays of sun illuminated her violet strands and ignited her turquoise eyes, a sight that gave me chills that not even the cold wind was able to do. Her voice resonated in my chest. — “I already said that I don't hang out with anyone, I don’t hold hands with anyone, and none of my priorities involve doing any of those things!”

She said it all in one breath, which almost took mine away too.

“So why are you being so insistent?!”

“Because I want to understand!”

And for the first time that day, I raised my voice. A tone that surprised even me, but also wide-eyed Margarete. Even those passing by directed disapproval toward us. Embarrassed by my bad behavior, I lowered my head and lifted my notebook, the cause of this sudden argument. My notes had long stopped making sense: ink stains, crooked lines, scrawled letters, and off-topic questions made up the last interview on a subject I still barely understood. It was just a curiosity, a detail that intrigued me, but would help me comprehend the relationship between Liella members better. A topic that drew me in as I delved deeper but ultimately only frustrated me. I ran my thumb over the title, the only well-written words in that pile of intangible concepts. I didn’t want it to be wasted.

“I thought that if Margarete could appreciate holding hands with her peers even though you are someone who prefers to stay isolated, maybe I could also understand such concepts.” — I still kept my eyes down, so I could see her fingers opening up. In contrast, I clenched mine even tighter around the notebook. — “But if you really have nothing to share, then I don’t know where I’ll find an answer…”

It’s frustrating. It bothered me more than I’d like, but I can’t avoid the feeling. I looked again at the incomplete notes and Chisato-senpai’s words returned to my head as an attempt at comfort. Yes, when the right time comes. I took a deep breath and closed the notebook with a thud.

“To-ma-ri!” — a voice muffled by the other sounds called me from a distance. I didn’t need to look to know it was my dear sister looking for me. She was back. That was enough to restore my senses. It was late, but with a bit of haste, I could still stick to my schedule. With that determined, I was raising my hand to reveal my location, but before I had the chance, an unfamiliar warmth brought my arm down.

“If you can’t find an answer…!” — Margarete, who had suddenly forced me to meet her gaze, exclaimed before messing up my plans once again: — “Then create one, damn!”

Without giving me any choice, the girl pulled me into an alley, dragging me beyond it and out of anyone’s view. Even we couldn’t see much: the sun was already setting, and the few rays it could offer stopped at the entrance. There was nothing but high walls enclosing our space, a precarious path not designed for human passage. Still, Margarete guided me with skill through this labyrinth she had thrust us into. I didn’t know her intentions, and I couldn’t stop her—not when a throbbing warmth held me to her. It was a strange feeling, not exactly uncomfortable, just new to me, a mix of sensations that made my skin tingle. The fact that I couldn’t see it only made my sense of touch sharper, allowing a nearly complete image to form in my mind. But this process didn’t need to end, as soon enough this reality emerged with the glare that appeared above me. Initially, the streetlight was as blinding as the alley's darkness, but once I adapted to the change, the imagined scene materialized before my eyes.

“Hands…”

Yes. Not my arm, not my wrist, but my hand. It was encased by Margarete’s slender and graceful fingers, holding me firmly so that nothing could pry them apart. I had been observing this contact for weeks in Liella, but seeing it from a first-person perspective—and, more importantly, feeling it—was a completely different scenario. Before I realized it, the natural coldness of my hand had already been melted by the warmth of that foreign palm, and if I wasn’t careful, it would invade the rest of my body too.

“Wait.” — I pulled Margarete in the opposite direction of her movement, but this only made her step forward more firmly. Her stubborn attitude forced me to call her with more urgency: — “Margarete!”

“What?” — she finally stopped, but her tone was not one of the most welcoming.

“What are you doing?”

“And you still don't know?!” — she was about to turn her head back, but quickly gave up on the idea. — “It’s exactly what you asked for.”

“‘What I asked for’?” — and in immediate response, Margarete tightened her grip on my hand. — “That wasn’t what I had in mind when I requested your interview.”

“But that’s what it’s about, right?” — she sounded sulky all the while, and our rough walk reinforced that. — “So let’s get on with it before we waste more time.”

“I agree about not wasting our time, but I also don’t think this is the most effective way to use it.”

“Oh my gosh, girl!” — and finally, she gave me a look to confirm my suspicion: she was not happy at all. — “How do you expect to understand something if you never do it yourself?!”

“I don’t do it because I don’t have my own reasons.” — her turquoise gaze was too intense for me to bear. — “That’s why I started this research, after all.”

A brief silence settled in the air. I looked anywhere but at her, as an unusual unease throbbed in my chest every time I saw her reaction.

“…Don’t you feel anything?” — Margarete intensified her grip. It felt like her fingers were about to dig into me.

“I do, but…”

It’s strange. A sensation I didn’t know how to name. It was warm, but not comforting. An unknown touch that didn’t soothe me. The sweat on my palm had already reached my rationality. Nothing was like the descriptions from the seniors, and for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to say that out loud to her.

“Forget it.” — and all those sensations faded away when she left me. — “That was a bad idea from the start.”

Margarete sat on the wooden bench beside us and covered her face with both hands, while I watched mine cooling down faster than I would have liked. A silence fell over us just as the night began to fill the sky, and with the quiet of the surroundings, the atmosphere grew heavy. Unlike the bustling Harajuku, this new street was more serene, with few pedestrians, but filled with bushes and lawns along the sidewalk. A scene that contrasted with the concrete world we had been walking through minutes earlier. It’s still unbelievable that an unconventional shortcut separated these two realities. I looked again at my colleague, motionless, as silent as our surroundings. Her dense aura reminded me of an old impression I had of her. I sat down next to her, a bit apart, as I still didn’t know how to approach her. Luckily, her routine sigh announced her initiative.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I had no experience in this matter.” — she removed her hands from her face and rested them on her lap, revealing a tired expression this time. — “So what was left for me was to risk this nonsense.”

Her voice was in a lower tone than usual, although the words still sounded as acidic as her norm. However, her head bowed and her gaze fixed on her lap revealed a withdrawn position I had never seen from her. That rekindled the anguish in my chest.

“I apologize for the trouble I caused you.” — I subtly leaned toward her. — “I didn’t mean to put you under this stress.”

“It’s not a big deal.” — she peeked at me from the corner of her eye before returning her attention to her restless fingers. — “It’s not like you forced me or anything, since I—”

She fell silent again. Her face went through multiple facets, each one different from the other, a confusion of emotions until she settled on one. It was hard to determine from my angle, but at least I witnessed the orange light from the streetlamp coloring her cheeks red.

“Don’t you dare tease me, okay?! Or else I’ll…!”

“There's no point in me doing that, though?”

I tilted my head, not understanding why this worthless threat. Margarete stared at me for a few seconds, as if analyzing something on my face, in return, I also observed her enough to see her frown relax into a more neutral expression. Then, she looked down and said almost in a whisper:

“…I wanted to try being closer to someone.”

My eyes widened. This declaration was so unexpected that I almost asked her to repeat it. For a moment, I wanted to pull out my notebook and continue the interview from there, but on second thought, it felt so wrong that I set it aside and moved my body closer to Margarete, reducing the distance between us. I no longer needed it.

"I thought that wasn’t part of your priorities."

"And it’s not." — Margarete lifted her chin and extended her hand toward the starry sky. — "My focus is music. It always has been and always will be my passion. Nothing is going to take that away from me."

Even with the low light, I could see the sparkle in her eyes. It was as if the stars were reflecting in that turquoise blue.

“But for some reason, even though I’ve been working my ass off every single day…!” — her hand closed into a fist, trembling from the pressure she applied against her palm. — “I still couldn’t even reach the school of my dreams.”

Then, she lowered it back to her lap, and the look from moments ago vanished along with her voice. And in me, that tightness in my chest returned. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t like it. I placed my fist over where it hurt and could no longer tell which was throbbing more. For some reason, my line of sight stopped on Margarete’s hand— closed, trembling, and solitary. Suddenly, a possibility crossed my mind, but I dismissed it as soon as I became aware of it. It seemed inappropriate for the moment, and I didn’t feel entitled to do it after everything. On the other hand, Ren-senpai also appeared in my imagination. Was that what she meant by lack of courage? The sound of Margarete’s teeth grinding brought me back to reality.

“But there are people like Shibuya Kanon who receive the honor of an invitation to study there.” — for a second, I forgot the topic, but her resentful phrase brought me back into context.

“Oh. I remember hearing about that.” — before anything else, I took a deep breath to regain my composure, and thus, a vague memory of my worried sister surfaced in my mind. — “But in the end, she stayed in Japan.”

“Yeah, yeah. Some things happened in the process.” — Margarete rolled her eyes and dismissed the detail I thought was important. — “But the fact remains: if she was chosen and I wasn’t, then she must have had something special. Something I don’t have.”

And once again, her gaze met mine. They vibrated at a frequency capable of reaching the target, and this time, I was in the crosshairs. By instinct, I looked away before the rest of my body could shiver. For some reason, facing her was proving to be a difficult task in this conversation.

“You know, Tomari. You’re not the only one watching Liella.” — from the corner of my eye, I saw her kick a stone away. — “In fact, I’ve known them longer than you and I can confirm: They’ve been sticking to each other like glue from the start.”

“I didn’t know you were interested in them so early on.”

“I didn’t care about them. My focus was Kanon as soon as I heard her sing.” — Margarete corrected me without softening her words. — “She truly proved herself to be an exceptional singer on stage, but otherwise, she was just an average girl like anyone else in the group.”

And another loud sigh escaped into the air before she found a new stone to kick. I was impressed by the small compliment directed at our senior, despite the rest being derogatory as usual.

“I wondered for a long time how a bunch of girls who just played around could be the favorites of LoveLive.” — a short, dry laugh accompanied the words. — “I could only conclude that it was a low-level competition.”

“And still, they beat you.” — and instantly, I realized the weight of my statement. — “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to sound like that—”

“You’re not wrong.” — then, her legs quieted. She pressed her lips together before continuing. — “I lost. I didn’t understand why. I gave it my all and it was relentless. I wasn’t going to accept that disgrace.”

Once again, her hands clenched into fists, and once again, I felt the stubborn hesitation to hold them. Even though her reality today is different, this whole story is still too recent for her. Telling it had brought about a series of reactions I usually don’t see in her, and consequently, I noticed the same phenomenon in myself. I took a deep breath again and focused my ears on her outburst.

“I watched them for so long and all I saw were girls with mediocre musical skills. They only thought about laughing, chatting, and doing those silly outings.” — the bitterness in her voice didn’t hide the resentment she still harbored from that time. — “But when I finally understood why the only talented girl had initially resisted the proposal to study abroad, I realized the abysmal difference between us.”

Margarete turned to me, and with just her gaze, I was able to understand someone for the first time without needing words. But the moment a tiny smile appeared on her face, one that conveyed the opposite of what a real smile should mean, my insecurities dissipated from my body. I felt an urgent need to act, to do something that could erase that expression which didn’t suit her at all, to rid myself of the reason my chest was tightening. And before I knew it, my hand had already met hers. Her first reaction was a startle. This would have undone us if I hadn’t held on with the same intensity she used to bring me here. It was still an incomplete contact. Her fist closed made the physical appeal difficult, and for a moment, I feared I had taken the wrong action. I risked looking up and found her alarmed eyes accompanied by slightly parted lips. I didn’t know if she intended to say or do something, but her lack of repulsion was a green light to proceed. As I continued to wrap my fingers around her fist, it gradually opened, allowing me to feel her whole hand. When the process was complete, we stayed like that for a while, getting used to the new touch and letting that warm sensation re-enter, which was no longer unfamiliar to me. Our moment of silence felt good, but Margarete seemed to want to speak, so as encouragement, I gave her a subtle nudge on the shoulder. From her quick glance, she seemed to understand the hint. She took a deep breath and continued:

“I’ve been managing on my own all this time. I built my own dream and invested in it. I accepted doing foolish things just to get what I wanted and even ended up in this foreign land.” — as she spoke, I tried to convey my feelings through my grip. — “If I got this far on my own, I wouldn’t accept support from anyone now, but—”

Her voice betrayed her at the end of the sentence.

“There’s no need to be afraid.” — I tried to reassure her.

“I’m not afraid!” — but this only brought out her standard irritation. Or shyness disguised, judging by her flushed cheeks. Regardless of what it was, I wished from the bottom of my heart that my warmth could comfort her, just like the second-year students comforted each other. And judging by our mutual grip, it seemed to have worked. — “I just thought that maybe, just maybe, I could achieve my dream if I had something similar to what they have.”

“I’m glad you went with that idea.” — I felt my lips curve with that conclusion. Thanks to this outburst, I was able to see a new side of my companion, who for some reason was staring at me with a frown. — “Any problem?”

“You also seem to have followed the same path, hm.” — she lifted our hands to eye level. — “What’s with you, Miss ‘I didn’t have that in mind’?”

“Oh.” — Yes. Margarete wasn’t the only one to decide something important in this conversation. I paused to organize my wave of previous feelings to translate them into logical terms: — “My heart reacted out of rhythm every time you seemed down, and that connection alarmed me. So, through that, my brain believed that our problem would be solved if we held hands. It just… felt right.”

And I suddenly remembered Kanon-sepai's words. Now that I’ve concluded, I can say it’s thanks to the evidence I’ve gathered. I tapped my free fingers on the notebook resting on the bench. In the end, my notes weren’t wasted. A sense of pride and satisfaction relaxed my body, which earned me a new strange look from Margarete.

“…Couldn’t you have confessed with more beautiful words?”

“I thought I used my best vocabulary…?” — from her complaint, I realized I had mistaken my translation skills. Maybe I need to revisit my language studies.

“Weirdo”

And that was her conclusion before she rested her head on my shoulder. The proximity was sudden, but I quickly welcomed it, along with her hair tickling my cheek. In fact, I was drawn enough to lean my face into it. It smelled of lavender. Unconsciously, I closed my eyes to focus on that fragrance and enjoy the affection the back of my hand was receiving. Just feeling the same breeze that rustles the treetops against my skin, hearing the chirping of nocturnal insects in the background— everything was enough for a much-needed peace to fill my chest. When I opened my eyes, the same serene scene was before me. The same bushes, the same calm, the same light, and the lack of people on the street made it deserted. Normally, this would alert me to possible dangers, but on this occasion, I was grateful that no one was passing by. I didn’t want anyone to witness this intimacy. My heart fluttered with a new hypothesis. Is this how Keke-senpai and Sumire-senpai felt at that time?

"And to think that we ended up like this” - Margarete woke me up to reality with her rambling. - “If we had ended the day with that misunderstanding, I might have shown up with a grumpy face tomorrow.”

“Certainly, that might still happen.”

“Excuse me?!” - she lifted her head and looked at me annoyed, but the subsequent blush on her cheeks indicated she was aware of her reaction. She decided to hide back on my shoulder. - “Is it that unpleasant?”

“I don’t mind. I think it’s part of Margarete to maintain her seriousness on her face.” - I expressed my opinion but then revealed details that would be important for her to know. - “However, I’ve noticed that some members of Liella are startled by your aura. The same applies to our classmates.”

“Ugh.” - a disgusted sound scratched her throat. - “This journey of mine will be long, huh.”

“I hope to be of help throughout it.” - I reinforced my support with a firm grip, which she quickly turned into an entwined hold. Her laughter that followed vibrated against my skin.

“As if I’d let you escape from me after today.” - her words whispered right by my neck sounded somehow different to me. Even with the low temperature of the night, the warmth was still present in my body.

“That’s not right, Margarete.” - for a moment, I hesitated to refuse, but thankfully logic took over. - “It would be a problem to reorganize my schedule to include you in all my tasks, and it would also conflict with the quality time I spend with my dear sister, so—”

“It's just a way of talking, knucklehead!” - besides giving me a verbal lecture, Margarete released my hand to pinch it with her fingernails. It stung. After that unjust punishment, she completely detached from me. - “Seriously. You need some proper communication lessons.”

“And you, a supplementary course in good behavior.”

I murmured with my mouth turned away from her view while trying to ease the pain with a massage. That was unnecessary. I was still brooding over what had happened in my mind, but Margarete’s sudden laughter alerted me.

“What’s so funny?” - I looked at her with furrowed brows, finding her attitude even more disrespectful.

“No, it’s just—” - she barely started the sentence before another laugh interrupted her. It lasted for a few moments until she could really speak. - “It’s the first time I’ve seen you with a sulky face and giving a snarky response.”

“Negative. That was a precise recommendation derived from my considerations of you.” - I technically corrected her, but she completely ignored me and continued:

“Oh! What will Natsumi-senpai think when she finds out I’m making her little sister act inappropriately?” - her entire sentence was delivered with a dramatic voice typical of theatrical narration, which only worsened my perception of her.

“Margarete!”

I was about to pull her by the shoulder when she jumped off the bench and became unreachable—though not from her perspective. With a quick spin, she faced me and grabbed my hand in the air, finishing her act by kissing it exactly where she had left that painful mark. I swallowed hard. Any words I intended to say were torn from my grasp by those turquoise eyes reflecting mine. We were motionless, not changing a single fiber, just waiting for the next reaction. I could feel a drop of sweat trickling down my neck. I can't handle this pressure.

“Please…” - with one of my hands held by Margarete and the other resting on my notebook, I had no choice but to lift it to my face and hide behind the hardcover. - “…Don’t stare at me so much.”

And a new, unsettling silence settled. I didn’t have the courage to look at her now, not with that compromising look; and when I thought I had time to regain some of my rationality, her fingers intertwined with mine again. Contrary to survival instincts, my reaction was nothing but to reciprocate. And to complete the surprise package, another pair of intrusive fingers lowered my notebook to eye level. With that, my view was filled with her innocent expression, devoid of any sign of provocation, malice, or ambiguity, only a warm smile filled with feelings and illuminated by the moonlight.

“Thank you for everything, Tomari.”

And that was enough for my heart to forgive her. She left no room for doubt about her words: they were pure and literal in their essence. The softness of her face eliminated the childish frustration I felt moments ago. In fact, that pleasant warmth returned to my chest, and combined with her touch, my body relaxed. There was no way I could stay angry.

“J-just don’t overdo it next time.” - I tried to force a false anger in this warning, but my abnormal stammering only brought back her mischievous face.

“Yes ma’am.” - and with a sudden pull, she got me off the bench. - “Now let’s go if you don’t want me to keep leading you down the wrong path.”

And with that contradictory statement, Margarete adjusted our hands to resume our walk home. Although I was already feeling the effects of tranquility through this contact, a past concern emerged within me. I needed to address it before it spoiled our last moments of the night.

“Margarete. About what you said earlier.” - I started simply, and she hissed a short ‘hm’ for me to continue. - “You’re really not going to tell my dear sister, are you?”

“You’re worried about that?!” - her reaction didn’t hide her surprise, and after a long time since the last time, she sighed. - “I won’t. Not about that or this.”

She lifted our intertwined hands for a moment.

“If I wanted her to know something, I wouldn’t have dragged you through that alley.” - I felt conflicted about hiding something from my sister, but the taste of privacy spoke louder.

“Although your behavior disrupted my schedule, I’m grateful you did it.” - I offered her a small smile. - “You really helped me with my research.”

“I told you, didn’t I?” - but she looked away. - “You wouldn’t understand unless you tried it yourself. Well. It was just a shot in the dark though.”

“Now that you mention it, it seems obvious.” - still, one point was not resolved. - “Even though my study proved valid with all the interviewees, I can’t imagine having felt all this if I had tried with someone else before.”

“Because it’s not about holding hands, Tomari.” - the different movement of Margarete made me look at her, and when I turned, she leaned in closer to me to say with her singular conviction: - “It’s about who you do it with, silly.”

Somehow, her phrase didn’t surprise me; maybe something in me already knew this but didn’t know how to express it. Fortunately, I had someone very astute to speak for me. With that, Margarete continued guiding me through the unfamiliar but beautiful streets on this night of discoveries. The air remained pure and cold due to the natural drop in temperature, but the exchange of warmth between us didn’t let that affect us. Even her ear was burning red. The sight made me laugh, but I held it back to avoid provoking my companion. I quickened my steps to catch up with hers, but she slowed hers to match mine. With our hands swaying with inertia, we finally fell into sync to walk side by side.

“But hey, Tomari.” - a very timid tone was used by the most confident girl I know. - “I don’t mind if we do this more often.”

“Hm…” - and another of the countless smiles I’ll give in the future appeared on my face. - “Agree.”

And it was for these reasons and others that the true meaning of Chisato-senpai’s words resonated in my heart. I would discover it at the right time, wouldn’t I? My self from hours ago would never believe the answer would come when it least planned.