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Mizuki meets you at Scramble Crossing on a Saturday morning. You’re meant to be at cram school. Your mother doesn’t know where you are.
They’re just across the road when they see you; their face lights up and they call out your name. Mizuki looks both ways hastily and runs for it before the pedestrian light turns green. Your mother always tuts at people who jaywalk.
“Mafuyu!” Mizuki says, though they’d just called out to you a few seconds ago. “Hi! It’s good to see you!”
“We were on call last night,” you say.
“It’s still good to see you!” they link an arm around yours. “I was kind of surprised when you asked me to hang out - but like, I’m happy about that! I was just wondering...and you don’t have to answer, but did you have any particular reason about it?”
Mizuki’s skirt ends above their knees, higher than your mother would approve of. No tights either, just thigh-high socks. Chunky shoes. You’ve never dressed like that before; even your casual outfits are sensible and no-frills. But Mizuki always talks about their fashion with such excitement. You wonder if it really is something that brings so much joy.
“When we went to Phoenix Wonderland,” you say, looking at your linked arms. Your classmates do this with you sometimes. It feels fine then. Part of the act; part of the gentle, dependable Asahina Mafuyu. It makes no sense fo someone to link arms with Yuki. Or whoever you are currently. “You said it was okay not to listen to my parents all the time. I...wanted to know more about that.”
“Oh!” Mizuki wavers for a second. “It was just something I felt at the time, I didn’t think it’d actually make an impact on you...but I’m happy it did! Really!” The arm linked around yours seems a little more hesitant suddenly, like Mizuki can’t quite decide where to go next anymore. “We can sit down at a café first and talk about it, if you want, or...?”
You blink at them. “I don’t actually have any questions. I just wanted to know more.”
“Huh?! Wait, you don’t?!”
“You seemed like you would know more.”
“That makes me sound like I’m the designated bad kid of N25!”
“You do skip school a lot.”
“I’ve been going more lately! - But I guess skipping any school is still a bad kid to a honour student like you.” Mizuki laughs sheepishsly. “Man, you really are brutal. Well, let’s find somewhere to sit down anyway, if that’s okay with you?”
You nod and let them tug you towards the shopping mall, the cafes that line the street. “This is my fave cafe at the moment,” Mizuki says as they lead you into one. The decor is clean and tinged blue, surprisingly simple for how decorative you know Mizuki’s outfits can get. Nevertheless, they navigate the place easily, fitting in almost right away. “They do really good parfaits here. I took Kanade here once too!”
“Kanade? In a café?” You can’t actually imagine it. Kanade seems like she’d only be able to appear in certain places, like some sort of mythical being. Her own house; Nightcord; their usually family restaurant. Anywhere else and she’d simply cease to exist.
Mizuki laughs even though you weren’t trying to be funny, but it’s sort of nice to hear it. “Right? She was kind of awkward, but…it was nice. I had fun.”
Mizuki’s smile turns bittersweet. You’re about to ask, when they fix it into their regular smile and you wonder if you imagined it. Something tells you to drop it, so you do.
“If it isn’t Mizuki-chan!” a waitress says, coming over with an empty tray in hand and notepad tucked into her apron. “I saw someone with a cute outfit and thought, well, that must be Mizuki-chan! I don’t know anyone as stylish! And oh, is this a friend of yours?”
“Thank youu~~! I made the skirt myself!” Mizuki sings. “But yeah, this is Mafuyu! Rika-chan, Mafuyu—Mafuyu, Rika-chan.”
Rika gives you a smile and you nod back politely without turning on your usual honour student filter. You don’t see why you have to; it’s only a two-second interaction. You used to switch it on any time you had to talk to anyone at all.
Rika asks for your orders and you let Mizuki order for you. They get you the blueberry cheesecake, the special of the day, and offer their foamy milk tea for you to try when it gets here. “If you want, I mean! You’re still having trouble tasting things, right?”
“Right.”
“That’s fine then! But you know, even if you can’t taste it, the milk tea here is super Instagrammable, Ena would loo~ve it. I’ve been trying to get her to come here with me, but she’s never awake in time to make it!”
You’ve been to cute cafés before, with your friends from school or your mother, but it’s always been an exhausting affair. Here Mizuki doesn’t seem to mind that your face stays blank, or that your responses are deadpan and blunt. Your head is pleasantly devoid of the niceties and canned phrases you should be performing next. It feels lighter.
The food arrives in pretty plates. Mizuki exclaims over the foam cat in their drink and sends the pictures off to Nightcord to gloat at Ena. You take a bite of the cheesecake. It’s cold and creamy. Seems filling enough to last you a few hours.
Mizuki gets a parfait too. They swoon over the whipped cream and syrupy mango and snap more pictures. All sugar and no substance, your mother used to say. I could never eat that. Mafuyu, do you want tea instead? “Okay, so here’s what I’m thinking. You don’t have to listen to your mom all the time, because, like—I know she means well,” they say, diplomatically, “but sometimes you know more about what’s good for you, you know? Or just what feels easier.”
“What feels easier…”
“Yeah, like…logging onto Nightcord. You still come on even though your mom doesn’t like it, right?”
They’re right, your mother doesn’t like it. You shouldn’t be doing it, but you can’t bring yourself to stop. You should. You can’t. Why does your chest hurt? “I…”
Mizuki’s stopped eating, their mouth turned down. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. We can talk about something else if you want.”
If you want …it’s just a phrase people say, but your head hurts anyway. You don’t want anything. You wish you didn’t want anything. You wish you didn’t have to listen to your mother. You wish…
“Mafuyu…?”
Your mouth has gone dry. It happens, sometimes. You’ve read while studying that dry mouth is a symptom of anxiety, not that it applies to you. You never feel anything, so surely you can’t feel anxious. But it feels like it now, your tongue uncomfortable in your mouth, your chest a peculiar dull-sharp ache. “If I don’t listen to my mother…will I understand what you mean?”
Mizuki’s concerned look freezes on their face. “Uh. What do you mean?”
“If I do things she doesn’t like,” you say, and the rest of it comes out. You’re sick of holding it inside. “Like wearing short skirts. And sugary junk food. And going out with friends without caring about their grades. Then will I understand what you mean? By not having to listen to her all the time? And knowing what’s good for me?”
“Mafuyu…” Mizuki says again, but this time it’s sad. “Don’t do anything rash, okay? …But if you want a taste, we can try the stuff you talked about today.” They brighten. “Ooh, we could go shopping! And you can have some of my parfait for true sugary goodness!”
“Okay,” you say. The wave of—what was it? anger? sadness? you don’t know—subsides as easily as it’d come, leaving you almost a little exhausted. You haven’t had more than a bite of your cheesecake, but Mizuki doesn’t push it.
Mizuki scoops up a generous spoonful of their parfait and holds it out towards you teasingly. “Should I feed you? Heh-heh. Just kidding—”
“Sure,” you say, and lean in expectantly.
“Wait, really?”
“You were the one who said you would feed me,” you say. You sound as blank and deadpan as ever, but you’re strangely interested in the way Mizuki goes speechless. You rarely see Mizuki this caught off guard.
“I mean, I guess —jeez, you gotta warn someone before you do that,” Mizuki jokes, still a little unsteadily. “Okay, here comes the parfait plane~ Open wide, Mafuyu-chan~!”
You accept the spoonful. It’s also cold and creamy, but much lighter than your cheesecake.
Later, you do go shopping. Mizuki pulls you into a shop you’ve never been in before, full of ribbons and laces and frills. “This place does a lot of lolita-inspired stuff,” they explain to you as they weave around the store. You follow diligently. “You’ve got dark hair, so that’d match a lot of the gothic stuff, but you can choose anything you want! Is there anything you wanna try on?”
You shake your head.
Mizuki’s smile turns mischievous. “Heh heh, I thought so! Then just leave it to me! This way!”
Five minutes later, your arms are laden with item after item of clothing. A blouse with puffy sleeves; a frilly choker and skirt to go with it. A delicate dress with lace on the hem, a hair ribbon, a matching one for the neck. More and more. You allow Mizuki to use you as essentially a clothes hanger.
They usher you into the changing room and you manage to figure out the puzzle pieces of each outfit. Mizuki squeals when you come out and takes more pictures, and reports that K said she looked very nice, and enanan responded with the same, “just like, in more tsundere words! You’ll see when you check Nightcord!”
Afterwards they take you to an arcade inside the mall and teach you how to play crane games. “I’m really good at the dancing games,” they tell you when the two of you leave, empty-handed. It’d been too loud to stay too long. “But it’s afternoon on a Saturday so the lines are super long, I’ll show you another time! Well, if you’re ever free any other time. Maybe we could get an arcade in the empty world?”
It’s dusk by the time you two are back on the street. Mizuki’s arm is linked around yours again, but this time there’s no hurry to the next destination, just a slow stroll. “Where to next?”
“...I have to go home,” you say. You don’t want to.
Mizuki’s face falls for a second, and they smile again, bittersweet. “Oh, yeah. I forgot that.” They step away, their arm falling from yours. “We were gonna help you know more about yourself, but I just wound up dragging you all over the place~. Sorry about that.”
You shake your head. You don’t know why it feels almost imperative to disagree, to tell Mizuki you don’t think of it that way at all. “I think I learned something. Thank you, Mizuki.”
Mizuki tilts their head. “Like what?”
“Like…it feels lighter with you. With everyone else in N25. And…I like doing things my mother doesn’t like.”
Mizuki’s sheepish grin. “Aw, now you’re really making me sound like a bad influence.”
You shake your head again. “I…don’t think so.” The streetlights have flickered on; Mizuki is outlined in warm light. “If all of these things were bad…I don’t think they would have felt like that.”
Mizuki’s breathing stutters; you can hear their words skip. “...Like what?”
You miss the feeling of their arm around yours, so you take their hand. “Lighter,” you say again. “Warmer.”
“Mafuyu—” Mizuki says again.
You hold tight onto their hand. “I don’t…want to go home yet.”
Mizuki looks torn. “But won’t your mom get mad?”
“I’m not doing what she wants today.”
Mizuki seems to relent. They squeeze your hand. Lace their fingers into yours. It feels nice. It makes you grow warmer; it makes you think about leaning in closer. They pull you forward gently, and your shoulders are close enough to brush.
For once, you’re sure of yourself. It might be a fleeting certainty, but right here and now, you know with every part of yourself: this warmth can’t be a bad thing.
“In that case,” Mizuki says, “do you want to take a walk in the park?”
You nod yes.