Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Under the warm light of her bedside lamp, words on the pages muddled together, as if deciding to hide underwater, just a grasp away from Kaho’s mind and memory. She raised her head. Outside, the sky was bright from Tokyo’s lights, curtains flowing gently from the light wind. A part of her suggested she should close the balcony door. Another, much quieter, part of her, wished to fly out from that balcony to the stars and beyond.

Would the stars be brighter if she’d be somewhere other than there? Would she be able to look up to see stars instead of the blurriness of a sky that had no space for stars to shine?

Her phone broke her from her thoughts. Kaho smiled at the name and opened the call.

“Megu-chan, hi! Everything okay?”

Hinoshita Kaho was eighteen when she graduated from the Hasunosora Girls' High School.

She was nineteen when, after a short pause, began university. At twenty-one, Hinoshita Kaho started working at a publishing house. Now, at twenty-six, she stood before the most famous music producer in the industry, a producer who reeked of alcohol and looked at Kaho as if she were the stars missing from Tokyo’s skyline.

At twenty-six, Hinoshita Kaho met Otomune Kozue once again, the girl that once upon a time gave her a star to chase after.

Disclaimer: Kaho did not fight with Kozue. Nor did they have a conversation that ended in bitterness and a mutual decision to stop talking to each other beside the polite birthday text once a year and the occasional text of checking up on one another. What made Kaho lose sleep on the times she thought of it, was the simple fact that she and Kozue had no reason to stand in the positions they stood with each other in the present.

Kozue graduated. They kept in touch. She was there when Kaho graduated, too, holding a bouquet of pink buttercups and smiling proudly. They held hands, her mother took a picture of them together, joined the rest of the group with smiles and laughter.

Kaho took a break from education after Hasunosora. Phone calls became a weekly occurrence. Kozue would stay with her on the phone until they both fell asleep. She’d send pictures of fields and flowers, and Kozue would send short clips of piano or guitar. Sometimes Megumi would join their video calls, grinning and talking about luring Kozue to be her producer and my dearest junior, you wouldn’t mind sweet talking Kozu here for me, would you—

Weekly phone calls became bi-weekly. Kozue began focusing more on music, on her and Megumi’s shared career. The stars on the sky were not enough to guide Kaho where she wanted to go; neither did they or her know where that destination was. Kozue did not ask where that destination was, either.

Kaho walked and travelled and saw new views that she never could before. Somehow, all felt bitter, a freedom that she’d sought but hadn’t been what she had expected.

One fateful day, she sat in a café. It was pouring outside, and Kaho stared at the droplets of the rain that slid on the window beside her as she kept her phone to her ear. Kozue picked up on the first ring, quicker than usual. They talked idly, small talk that two people sharing a train could share. She told Kozue she had no idea where to go next. Her parents were worried too, she confessed. They thought she’d travelled enough through Japan, that it wasn’t even safe for her health to continue and what will you do with your future—

Kozue had remained silent in that way she always did when she slowly became a wall for Kaho to lean on, a wall of support and guidance and help and—

You should do what you wish for, Kaho. Follow your dream.

It made her wonder, then, how walls could isolate the same way they protected. The rain continued splattering outside. Kozue’s breath was quiet on the other side of the phone. Kaho smiled and laughed softly and thanked her and soon the phone call was over after Kozue apologized for having to go so soon and it’s okay, really, you’re a full-time producer—

Kaho stood outside without an umbrella. She felt like a flower, each droplet falling against her skin and rolling down, down, down and down and—

She never got to ask Kozue what she wanted to. Never got to ask what is my dream, Kozue-senpai? What do I chase if I have no idea what to chase now? How do I find happiness if I see it everywhere but in not one specific destination—

It was what it was. This stage was over. It was time for Kaho to move towards the next one.

Kaho returned home. She applied to university. She got in. She moved to Tokyo, again, and life began, again. Life began between phone calls with old friends and study groups with new ones; with assignments that kept her awake at night and music that dragged her through the day. Life began again, in a slower, gentler way, a life that was not planned yet wasn’t forced either. It was how many things in her life were, she realised. Not planned, nor dreamt of, steps taken where the current of the river that was life lead them, taking her where she stood in the present.

What was in the past did not begin again. Most friendships remained as they did, Sayaka calling regularly and Ruri smiling from the other side of her video calls as she travelled. But the warmth of a promise once shared between her and Kozue died the same way the fires in her childhood home often would, slowly and tenderly, burning to ash until it blew away with the wind, a memory and nothing more. Kaho pretended she didn’t mind, pretended that it was all okay as she kept up with Megumi’s career, as she kept an eye out on the next generations of Cerise Bouquet through Ginko, as she heard Otomune Kozue’s newest interview on the radio.

What inspires your creativity, Otomune-san? Surely a young woman like you has an abundance of secrets as to why she’s producing songs that continuously reach the heights of Japan’s charts—

It was all okay, she thought as she went out drinking with friends, as a friend of a friend recommended her for a job and she went to an interview with a nervous smile and bursting at the seams. It was all okay. She was enjoying herself; she made new friends and tried all kinds of things she’s never done before. She managed to get hired and she graduated, and she had her own apartment, small but warm and hers—

Working with Megumi-san, an old friend of mine, certainly does help. She’s a brilliant performer and an even more formidable creator who enjoys being part of the process of creating the songs she performs. I’d say hard work and a work ethic where you listen to as much music as you can is important, but I think it’s much simpler than that. I’d say love is what inspires me. Living this dream of mine—

She stared outside of the train window, Tokyo passing by just as the memories of the past did. Kaho couldn’t say she was unhappy with her current life, really. Working in publishing was tiring but rewarding, hundreds of stories falling on her hands and what better than doing what you love and getting paid for it? She clutched the bag in her lap, her earphones blocking all but the smooth words of the interview.

Well, there we have it, folks! The secret to being successful is love. Thank you for joining us today, Otomune-san, and I’ll give you the honour of closing this radio section with a song of your choice.

There’s little to complain. She could buy all the manga she wanted, eat what she wanted when she wanted, go out with friends without her parents worrying a hole in her brain. She didn’t have to run at five in the morning daily or drink horrid looking smoothies to gain more stamina. She could do whatever she wanted, had a job that provided her with a comfortable living, and yet—

Thank you for having me today. I thought deeply about the song I’d pick for when you’d ask me this question, so I will go with a song that’s very dear to me. This is for someone special to me, who is the reason why I am where I stand today. My selection is Doughnut by TWICE.

Kaho swallowed. Why did this freedom of hers taste so bitter when she remembered her past?

“Megu-chan, why is Kozue-senpai drunk out of her mind—”

“Ah, you found her! Great! Last time Tsuzuri had to climb a tree to get her down. Like geez, Kozue, most people get slouchy when older and she still somehow has that strength—”

Kozue stirred against the chair and table she’d slumped upon. Kaho stared at her as if she were a bomb ready to go off and not the girl that she promised her high school years and dreams to. In a way, she wasn’t that girl. But she did give Kaho the same feeling as if she’d burst at the seams at any moment, which wasn’t helping with the anxiety of having to handle a Kozue she’d never seen before.

“What do I even do now?! I don’t even know where exactly she lives.”

A ping came from her phone. Kozue raised her head, blinked slowly. Like a cat, thought Kaho. A very, very drunk cat that now was Kaho’s responsibility.

“There we go! Problem fixed. I’d love to help more, but Ruri-chan and I have been planning this date for ages, and Tsuzuri is abroad, and I don’t have it in me to do another classical performance for this restaurant to get a reservation—”

“I’ll—” Kozue met her eyes, blinked twice, and her head thumped against the table. Kaho sighed. “I’ll handle this. Please enjoy your date and tell Ruri-chan I said hi.”

“This is why I love you! And Kaho—” Megumi’s voice softened in that way it did that made Kaho feel fifteen again and Megumi was there for advice in a way Kozue couldn’t be, in that teasing yet supportive way that made Kaho tear up. “Take care, alright? I’m sorry to spring this on you but… I wouldn’t trust anyone else with Kozue.”

Anyone else with Kozue? What about her special person—

“It’s okay, I mean it,” she said. Kaho did mean it. If anything, she was glad she could help Megumi. “Go enjoy your date, alright? I want pictures after!”

Megumi laughed, closed the phone, left Kaho standing there in silence. Kozue remained with her head on the table. She was dressed comfortably, Kaho noticed, different than all the times she’s seen her on the screen with Megumi in the rare interviews she did. When she took a step closer, Kozue stirred again. Kaho crouched and gently shook her arm.

“Kozue-senpai, are you okay?”

Kozue groaned lowly and turned her head to look down at Kaho. Her eyes, clouded by the drink, began to tear up—

“Kaho!” She dragged the last vowel of her name far too long and Kaho barely had time to kneel fully before she had a handful of Kozue on her arms. For a drunk woman, her grip strength really didn’t disappoint. “You’re… here!”

“I… am?” Kaho pat her back awkwardly. “Kozue-senpai, let’s get up, okay? Work with me here.”

Contrary to what she feared, Kozue was a very easily convinced drunk. She stood up, even if wobbling on her feet and followed Kaho’s lead with ease. Judging by Kozue’s location that Megumi sent her, it’d be easier if she took her to her own apartment instead. Tomorrow’s Kaho could deal with the awkward morning when they’d both be awake and—

Oh, hi, Kozue-senpai. I know we somehow managed to not meet alone for the last few years despite sharing an entire friend group, but Megu-chan, oh yes, I call her that now, told me to pick you up and you were drunk out of your mind. Your apartment was too far and the bar you got so drunk you couldn’t walk was conveniently right next to my apartment, so I took you here. Do you want eggs and coffee with that? No?

“I’m sorry, Kaho,” mumbled Kozue. Kaho faltered in her steps and gripped Kozue’s shoulder through her coat to stop her from falling. “For… for this. It’s just so…”

Kaho waited but Kozue did not finish her words. They were very close to her building. Just one more turn—

“Why did that girl tell you to pick me up…” Kaho was glad of how late it was for why she was able to pick up Kozue’s low voice with ease. There were barely any cars in this zone of Tokyo, which was maybe a reason why Kaho decided to live there. “I’m more than able to care of myself. Look!”

Another new fact about her Kozue: she was a very, very active drunk. Kaho supposed it went hand in hand with being easy to order around. She yelped as Kozue pushed herself off and started walking by herself. It’d be cute if she wasn’t swaying enough that Kaho had to skip her steps to grab her before she fell. There was a pleased smile on her lips when she met Kaho’s eyes. Kozue giggled. Kaho could only stare.

“Kaho, Kaho, Kaho,” she mumbled. Kaho didn’t react as Kozue’s hands gently slapped on her cheeks. Kozue stared at her with the intensity of a girl that could spend hours on the piano but was also drunk enough she was probably seeing three of her. “You’re still so… pretty…”

Kaho, for she was human and a girl that was being held and praised by another girl, blushed pink and tried wrestling away from Kozue’s grasp. Kozue seemed to have gained control of her limbs because she refused to let go, despite Kaho’s tight grip on her wrists. If she didn’t stop her, then—

“I miss you, so, so much,” murmured Kozue. She teared up again, and Kaho regretted telling Megumi she had this. She barely had her own life, let alone a very touchy, drunk Kozue. “Why did you come tonight? I’m drunk! Irresponsible! This is no state to be before you...”

Kozue’s grip slackened and Kaho took that opening. She dragged one arm on her shoulders and the other around Kozue’s waist. They’d reached her building’s entrance by then, and Kaho managed to wrangle her keys out and Kozue with her. When they reached her door, Kozue was on her back like a backpack, arms around Kaho’s shoulders and head against her back.

She was relatively heavy, Kaho thought. Or she’d gotten out of shape. Back then, she’d been able to hold this much of Kozue.

“You shouldn’t have come for me,” whispered Kozue. Kaho tried ignoring her, smiling brightly when she took off her shoes and made Kozue do the same. “You should… go…”

“You’re at my apartment, Kozue-senpai. It’s a sleepover like old times, isn’t it?”

Kozue blinked. Then she began crying. Kaho thought that this might be punishment from God for hearing her think of her past far more than it was healthy at 25. They remained standing in the living room until Kaho felt Kozue’s mumbling rise in volume and her weight slacken on her.

“This is no good,” murmured Kozue. “No, no good.”

“Let’s get you to bed, Kozue-senpai—”

“No! Couch!”

Kaho would laugh until her sides hurt and her eyes cried tears over how funny Kozue was when drunk. However, right now she nearly screamed as Kozue pulled her by the arms, dropping on the couch like a sack of potatoes and dragging Kaho along with her. Punishment, that’s what it was. Punishment for calling that new book she was editing too dry, for saying that one author could do with more romance in her romance book—

“Warm,” said Kozue, who somehow had not had the urge to throw up despite being drunk and having Kaho’s entire body weight on top of her. “Kaho, you’re so… warm… and nice… I miss you…”

Kaho counted to five. Then to ten. Then to five again. She tried moving slowly, despite Kozue’s death grip around her. She managed to get her knees on the sides of Kozue’s thighs before she paused, Kozue’s breath warm on her neck.

“I had to… I had to… But it’s for the best…” Kaho listened, barely breathing. “You had to… go… I couldn’t… It’s for the best. But you’re here now…”

“Kozue-senpai…?”

Kozue breathed deeply, in and out. In and out. “You had to… We had to… Our dreams… are…”

She waited. Kaho waited but Kozue spoke no other words. What were their dreams?

“Kozue-senpai?”

The only reply she received was a low snore. With enough effort, she detangled herself from Kozue’s grasp. Kozue’s arm fell off the couch. In the warm light of her apartment, she noticed details she hadn’t before. Kozue’s dark eye bags, the way her lips remained slightly open as she slept, how she filled the hoodie she was wearing, the tangles in her hair. She’d grown, realized Kaho, just as she herself had. This looked like the same Kozue-senpai she used to know and yet—

“What did we have to do, Kozue-senpai?” She asked softly. Kozue continued snoring. One hand reached out, pulled out her necklace from inside her shirt. The button was warm in her grasp, grounding. Kaho gripped the couch as she stared at Kozue’s face. Their hands remained close, never touching. “Couldn’t you have told me too? At least I’d have known what to do.”

But Kozue did not reply. Kaho sighed and covered her with a blanket, left a glass of water by the small table and went to her own bed, eyes staring at the ceiling until she fell asleep. Kozue’s light snoring filled the usual silence. Kaho followed her in the land of dreams and dreamt of a starry sky, far, far away from there.

When she woke up, Kozue was gone. She’d have thought it was all a dream until she saw the blanket tidily folded by the couch and the glass washed and left to dry. Kaho rubbed her eyes and paused at the letter left on the kitchen counter beside a breakfast of eggs and sausages. Just how she’d eat on the rare times when she’d visit Kozue during the beginning of her university days.

She picked the letter up.

Kaho,

It pains me that this was how we met after such a long time. I apologize for all the inconvenience and time wasted with handling me. I’m sure you had better things to do than deal with a drunk senpai. Nonetheless, I appreciate your help and care.

As an apology, I made you breakfast. I woke up far too early, and I hope that you still enjoy this kind of meal.

Thank you for everything. I hope we can

With love,

Kozue

Kaho read the letter and folded it, placed it where Kozue had and sat to eat breakfast. She rarely had time to make some most days, waking up at last possible minute she needed to before running out to be on time for work. On other days, when she’d stay up the entire night, she’d have an early breakfast, watching the sky lighten blue as the sun rose.

Despite all the beauty of the sunrise, thought Kaho, all those breakfasts had yet to taste as good as it did when made by Kozue.

Kaho did not expect Kozue to text. Perhaps that was wrong.

Kaho expected Kozue to show up one day at her door, smiling softly and embarrassed and ask for a moment of her time. Then Kaho would also smile and blush and usher her in to talk and catch up and it’d be so much like old times that Kozue would sigh and say something like I wonder why we haven’t done this before, and Kaho would laugh and wonder the same and then—

But Kozue only texted her once, another apology and thanks, and Kaho replied saying it was nothing and we can do something similar again, one day and Kozue replied in agreement and that was that. Kaho was pulled to the world of manuscripts and meetings and that night with Kozue felt almost like a dream that was too sweet and too short. Kaho supposed that was the curse of adulthood, and the price to pay for a life that lacked the constraints which the past used to have.

It was after a long meeting with a new writer one day when Sayaka called her. Kaho answered, because what friend would she be if she didn’t answer to her best friend. She was in Europe for an event her protégé would perform at, hoping to catch the eye of those that could put her on the path of representing Japan as its trainer in the next Olympics.

Big dreams, aren’t they? Sayaka had once told her that as they stared at the sunset, blue eyes unfocused and body tense with the fear that came when something too good to be true was soon going to happen. Kaho had held her hand, her grip strong enough for Sayaka to turn to her. Big dreams fit big people like you, Sayaka-chan! If anyone would be able to achieve them, it’d be you! And Sayaka had smiled, and Kaho had smiled, and both had held hands until the evening came, and their juniors slash friends slash future bearers of their idol dreams for another year came to find them.

Kaho wondered what it must feel like to have a dream that lasted for that long. She wondered of that as Sayaka asked her how she was doing. Kaho talked about the manuscripts she’s read and the ones she had yet to read and—

“Why don’t we meet up when I’m back? Tsuzuri came to visit me the other day, and Megumi-senpai told me she’d be in Tokyo by then, so why don’t we all gather? If we manage to get an offer for the Olympics, it’d be a good excuse for celebration.”

“That’d be amazing! Ruri-chan and I were hanging out yesterday and thought about that, too. You’re back in two weeks, right?”

“We can arrange a date with the rest by then. Megumi-senpai already spoke with Hime-san, so that covers Mirapa. You could reach out to Ginko-san and Ceras-san, and Izumi-san called me yesterday, so I handled her and Kosuzu too. I’m pretty sure Tsuzuri can talk with Kozue-senpai—”

“I can ask her.”

Sayaka paused, and the silence embarrassed Kaho more than her admission that came from a place so deep in her brain and heart that she was sure she wouldn’t even find if she went to search for it.

“Well, yes, you can do that. It’s just—” Kaho heard a cough on the other side that oddly sounded like Tsuzuri before Sayaka began talking again. “Alright, I’ll leave you to that. I must go now though. They are calling our team’s name for practice on the field. I’ll call you tonight your time again to confirm details?”

“Yes, yes, yes! Have fun, Sayaka-chan! Cheering you on so loudly you’ll hear it even there!”

She closed the call and stared at her phone, her reflection smiling. Meeting with those that she shared the warmest memories with was something that rarely happened, as to be expected from eleven people leading eleven different lives, but there was nothing she enjoyed more than the instances when the stars aligned for it to happen. And now she was responsible to ask Kozue.

Kaho: Kozue-senpai! Hope you’re feeling well today :] !!!!

Kaho: Sayaka is planning a meet up with everyone when she’s back in two weeks. Do you want to join us?

She sent the text before she could overthink and continued with her work. Hours passed and she nearly forgot she had a phone or a social life until her coworker knocked at her table to remind her it was past the time she should be at work and should go home. She walked home slowly, murmuring a new song that was playing on the radio. It was a beautiful night, full of life and people walking that it made her smile.

Life went on around her, and as she walked between strangers, it made her realize just how beautiful the world around her was. There were thousands of people that led different lives, that had their own dreams to chase and their own reasons to smile. It comforted her, in a way, to know that there were as many paths as there were people that she could chase after. That no matter how singled out she could feel, there was always a path for her to follow.

Kaho paused by the red light. Her phone rang. She picked it up—

“Look up,” said a warm voice that Kaho could know in dreams and awake—

Kozue stood on the opposite side, waving elegantly. Cars passed by them just as all the time they hadn’t spent together. Despite everything, all Kaho could notice was Kozue’s small smile, just as gentle as it was warm. The light turned green. She walked forward.

“Kozue-senpai,” she said, smile widening as the name escaped her lips. Kozue met her halfway on the white lines, hands folded before her. “Don’t tell me you’re on your way to have some fun for the night again.”

Kozue laughed, her cheeks tinted pink. Under the lights of Tokyo, she looked just as beautiful as Kaho remembered her. Taller than her and bigger than life.

“I apologize again for… all I did that night. I already chastised Megumi about calling you.”

“I didn’t mind, really! It was—” Kozue tilted her head. Kaho scratched her cheek. “It was nice. To meet again.”

Kozue blinked, just she had that night. “Oh. I… see.”

A car honked at them, and Kaho realized the light had already changed and they remained standing in the middle of the street. Kozue reacted faster than she did, grasping her hand and pulling her on the opposite side of the street, where she’d been before. Her hand was warm, lacking any strength in its grip against Kaho’s. It’d take barely a movement to pull it away. How fragile, thought Kaho, and how fleeting.

Kozue smiled bashfully. “This is better. Are you going home?”

“Yeah, my train station is right there,” Kaho pointed. Kozue didn’t turn to look but nodded, polite despite the awkwardness that hung in the air. “Did I interrupt you on your way?”

“I- No, I was—” Her phone rang. Kozue looked at it before muting it, putting it on her pocket again. “I was just taking a walk.” Her phone rang again. Kozue shut it without taking it out of her pocket. Kaho smiled, amused at Kozue’s attempt to playing it cool. “My car is nearby. Do you want me to drive you home?”

Kaho considered the request but was, once again, interrupted by Kozue’s phone. She looked annoyed in a way that surprised Kaho. How much had they changed, that now emotions were so easy to read in Kozue’s face?

“I’m so sorry, give me a moment—”

“It’s okay! Thank you, really, but I don’t want to interrupt you. I really appreciate—”

Kozue held a finger up. Kaho paused and felt sixteen again. Kozue opened the call, biting out the politest way of saying I am busy, and I will be right there before closing it again. She smiled as if nothing had happened.

“Now that that’s out of the way, why don’t I take you home?”

Kozue’s car was a sleek black one, which didn’t surprise Kaho much. All leather seats and low lighting, she was very sure she hadn’t stepped in a car this nice ever in her life. Kozue didn't speak much as they start driving, drumming her fingers against the steering wheel.

“So…” Kaho cleared her throat. “How have you been doing, Kozue-senpai?”

Kozue smiled. “Things have been going well, thank you. It’s good to be back in Japan for more than mere days.”

“You and Megu-chan travel a lot, don’t you?”

“Megu-chan, huh?” Kozue hummed, flickering the side lights with a flick of the finger as they took a turn. Her eyes don’t leave the street. “As a producer I’m not supposed to be all that active, but she deems it necessary to have me there before performances to ask for my advice about potential ad-libs.”

There was a reason, after all, that Megumi was as popular as she was. Always trending in whatever show she’d appear, concerts sold out before Kaho even had a chance to buy a ticket without asking her for a VIP one, always playing on the radio. If she’d put this much work in her high school years, Kaho was sure they wouldn’t spend half the time worrying for her grades. But it made her smile, too, how Megumi had found her place to thrive and shine just as brightly as she had in her school idol days.

“What about you? Ginko told me that you work in a new position at your publishing house.”

“Yeah! I’m handling new manuscripts and editorial work now. It’s a position that I was gunning hard for, so I’m quite happy.”

“You liked to read a lot, back in Hasunosora,” said Kozue. “I remember you liked manga, especially. Do you get to edit any?”

Kaho shook her head. “Only books, at this stage. I’m looking on expanding my scope as I grow in experience, but I don’t mind! There’s so much to read and enjoy that it feels like I’m getting paid to have fun.”

“That makes sense,” said Kozue. Her eyes slid towards Kaho for a quick glance. She smiled when she looked away. “There’s no one who could find glee in every possible thing like you did. It’s always been one of the things I admire most about you, Kaho.”

Her heartbeat resembled the motor of Kozue’s car with how hard it slammed against her chest. She looked to her hands in her lap, ears hot and fingernails scratching at her thumbs.

“Thank you, Kozue-senpai.”

“You can call me Kozue if you wish. It’s been a long time since I’ve been... Well, we’re past such honorifics now, aren’t we?”

Something heavier than her heart fell on the pit of her stomach, at the middle of her throat. Kozue’s words were light, simple as if they were facts. But why did they feel out of place, as if stolen from a script that didn’t belong to them?

You’re the only one I trust with Kozue—

“I—”

This is for someone special to me, who is the reason why I am where I stand today—

“I’d rather call you Kozue-senpai,” murmured Kaho. She looked at Kozue’s profile with a wide smile. “You’ll always be my senpai, after all.” There never was a chance for them to grow further past that, after all.

Kozue nodded politely and drove the car to a halt. They remained sitting, even as Kozue turned off the engine.

“Thank you for driving me home,” said Kaho. Kozue turned to her with a small smile, eyes squinting the way they always did whenever Kozue would put on a brave smile.

“Consider it repaying inconveniencing you that day.” Had she considered this an inconvenience too, thought Kaho idly. “And let me know whenever you might need another ride.”

Kaho bowed her head. “Have a good night, Kozue-senpai.”

She opened the door and made to step out. She was stopped by a hand that shot out quicker than she could move away. Kaho stared at Kozue’s grip on her wrist. They both blinked in surprise before Kozue let go and looked away.

“I… I’ll come to the party you messaged about. I’m sorry I didn’t reply to you earlier. I’ll ask Megumi about the details and if I can help in any way.”

Kaho smiled. “I’ll see you then! I can’t wait.” Kozue smiled back and Kaho stepped out fully, closed the door and walked to the entrance of her building. She only heard Kozue drive away when she turned on the lights of her apartment.

Unlike most nights, her apartment felt oddly silent, as if there was a lack of constant noise. Kaho stared at her open manuscripts, at the laptop that had gone dark, her half-eaten food beside it. Had her place always been this quiet?

I’ll ask Megumi about the details.

“Have you always been this avoidant, Kozue-senpai?” She murmured. “Or is it simply with me now?”

Outside, life continued. Kaho sighed loudly and let her head hang between her outstretched arms that gripped the balcony railing. Life would continue for her, too, just as it always had. Unfortunately, it seemed her heart refused to do the same. All it’d taken was for a look back towards a past she could not live again for it to refuse to do much but continue looking there.

She stared at her necklace that swung from the wind. It’d be okay, Kaho thought, just as it always had been. She made her choice just as Kozue had. It was useless to blame either. The night would end, and day would come again and all would be good again.

Things would not be okay. Rather, things would forever be a cycle of being okay before Kozue returned to her and crashed through all the okay-ness she had accumulated in her daily life.

Megumi stood beside her, hands on her hips. They stared at Kozue who continued singing karaoke in their private room. Kaho gave a weary glance at the beer cans, which weren’t a lot, but she was quite sure that Megumi and Kozue hadn’t drank each four cans. Judging by Megumi’s mostly clear eyes and steady standing abilities, she’d barely drank two of them.

“I’m so sorry to call you like this again,” she said, apologetic. “Apparently Ruri’s got food poisoning—”

“Is she okay?!”

Megumi waved her off. “She is, she is, thankfully. But she just called, and I got to go home if I expect her to not throw up the remaining part of her organs that she hasn’t until now.” Kaho frowned. Megumi winked with a smile. “My words, not hers. I’m sure she’s going to be better, but I still worry. And I had no one else to leave this one with.”

That one was scrolling through the catalogue, and Kaho worried for her ear drums when an Ave Mujica song began blasting from the speakers. Megumi sighed and called out.

“Kozue, I told you how you’re getting annoying singing all of Ave Mujica’s early songs—”

“I want you; I want you; I want you—”

“Yeah, we need to study how alcohol makes her this way. There’s no possible explanation one can change this much—”

“I’ll handle this,” said Kaho. Kozue found that moment to start crying as the song reached its chorus. She swallowed. “I got this. Kozue-senpai handled me more than enough times in high school. I’m sure I can do the same as last time.”

Megumi slapped her shoulder as if she was sending Kaho to war. “Soldier, go forth! As your captain, I leave you carte blanche on this.”

“Do you even know what that means…”

Megumi was already exiting as she spoke, waving at a drunk Kozue. “Just make sure to not kill her, please. I need to continue having the best producer in the country handle my music. Thank you, Kaho!”

Kaho barely let out a goodbye as Megumi flew out of the door. Thankfully, the song came to an end before Kaho lost her hearing. Kozue noticed her, a bright grin appearing in her face. “Kaho! Come here! Sing a song with me!”

Kaho smiled and walked over to look through the catalogue. “What do you want to sing, Kozue-senpai?”

Kozue looked up to Kaho with a grave expression. Kaho wondered what she would say before Kozue’s hands landed on her arms, lowering her to be eye to eye level with Kozue. What was it now, feared Kaho.

“Why do you call me senpai?” Kozue hiccupped. “I’m… Kozue. Kozue. Koooozue.” Kaho giggled at the despair in her voice. “How come that girl gets a cute nickname and I don’t?” Kozue hiccupped again and Kaho’s eyes widened when she realized Kozue meant Megumi— “We were in a unit! We were destined together!”

Kozue’s hands fell from her arms, and she slumped against Kaho’s form, forehead resting against Kaho’s stomach. “I used to be your senpai, wasn’t I?” For a moment, clarity shone through Kozue’s voice, a sincerity and vulnerability that broke Kaho’s heart. “Where did I go wrong with that…”

The background music of the song Kozue chose filled the silence their words didn’t. Kaho’s eyes remained trained to the wall beyond the girl sitting, bright lights illuminating her face in the continuous cycle in which they swarm around the room.

“Kozue-senpai…” Kozue groaned. “Kozue.” She raised her head, blinking pathetically the blurriness of her eyes away. “How about we sing together, for old time’s sake? I miss singing with you.”

Kozue’s smile bloomed just as a flower, slow and towards Kaho. It made a similar one bloom in Kaho’s own lips.

When they exited the karaoke bar, Kozue was as close to sober as she could be. Kaho had an arm wrapped around her waist, just for safety, Kozue’s own around her shoulders. That’s how they walked out, sharing warmth between their bodies.

“Kaho…”

“Yes?”

“Can you drive?” Kozue pulled out a pair of car keys from her pocket, pressing them in Kaho’s hand. “I’m in no shape to drive so you can just… take me home. Stay over too. Whatever you want, just…” A long sigh. Green eyes looked away, towards the direction of the car. “Just whatever you want is okay.”

“Thankfully, Ginko-chan and I took our driver’s license together, so you’re in luck tonight!” Kozue looked at her, smiling even if the corners of her lips did not reach her eyes. “But I do drive very slow.”

“It’s okay, truly,” murmured Kozue. They reached her car, and Kaho helped her in the passenger seat. “It’s… uh…”

When she looked up, crouching to put the seatbelt on for Kozue, she was far closer than she’d expected. There was a panic in Kozue’s face that Kaho has lost her ability to understand, had a faint memory of something similar when she’d praise her senpai before all their fans in their lives. But then Kozue’s eyes slid lower, she blinked owlishly, and it was Kaho’s turn to panic. If Kozue’s nose itched, Kaho sneezed. If Kozue looked at her with a red face and blurry eyes that strayed lower, Kaho—

“Oh, my goodness!”

Kaho raised herself so fast she slammed her head on the top of the car. Kozue reached out immediately, hand soft and weirdly coordinated for a drunk girl. Once a senpai, always a senpai.

“Are you okay…?”

“I—” Kaho barked out a laugh and hit the roof of the car with her hand, hoping to portray half of the confidence she usually showed. “It hurts a bit, but nothing I can’t handle! Let me get in and we can go.”

Kozue looked at her with a frown even as Kaho closed her door and got in on the other side. She put Kozue’s address in the GPS in her phone, the volume low enough to be heard. Kozue only stared forward, unmoving and silent.

“Kaho.”

“Mhm?” Kaho snapped her eyes to Kozue, nodding. “What is it?”

“Do you ever feel… like something’s… missing?” Kaho blinked. Kozue pointed to the right. “Please turn there.”

Kaho nodded as she turned the car. Her GPS had told her to turn left, but she’d rather trust a half-drunk Kozue than it. The time had gone from 10 minutes to 15. Kozue must know another shortcut further down if they took the longer road now.

“I… What brought this on, Kozue-senpai?”

Kozue sighed, and Kaho realized just how tired she looked. Under the pale light of the car, the shadows made her face look longer, lost in thoughts Kaho had no way of knowing. Once, she’d promised to become the Kaho that Kozue could always depend on. Once, Kaho had believed that to be possible. Now, she hoped Kozue was drunk enough to forget her lack of need for Kaho’s support.

“Do you remember Love Live?” Kaho smiled. Who could ever forget? Kozue’s bright smile, everyone’s passion as they sang and danced. “When we won, after some time passed I… I felt numb. Empty.” Kozue’s head leaned to the side; eyes stuck in Kaho’s general direction. “I wanted to win so much. To win Love Live was all I had ever wanted. Who was I without it? A girl with dead dreams.”

“Kozue-senpai…”

What could she tell Kozue? Even back then, when Kozue crumbled to the ground and cried, Kaho felt herself useless. What did one do when they saw the walls of their castle tumble as if they were mere rocks? She always felt helpless, could only promise Kozue that she’d be there, and she’d make her dream come true.

Before, she had been able to hold onto her promise. What promise could she do and hold now?

“I…” Kozue pointed to the left. Kaho turned. 13 minutes turn to 16. “You saved me, that day, Kaho. I… I thought all I had was Love Live. That without it I was nothing. But…”

Kaho stopped the car, the light red. She turned slightly to meet Kozue’s eyes. They were tired, a weight heavier than the alcohol in them. But her smile was real, sincere in a way she’d know even if she had forgotten all about Kozue.

“You were there. You still were. We lost but you were still there. You… you saw someone worth supporting, that day. I…” Kozue closed her eyes. Kaho looked away, began driving again. “I had you, back then. I always…” Her voice, lower than before, worried Kaho. But Kozue leaned back again, head tipped to the car ceiling. “My junior, the one I should have supported, supporting me. And again now.”

“It’s not really all that much, Kozue-senpai, I promise.” Kaho made a signal to turn left, but Kozue pointed forward. 10 to 15. Kaho drove forward. “Though I really hope you remember your way home correctly.”

“I know. Don’t worry for that,” replied Kozue. She was still smiling fondly. “Even if you were a free spirit, you took to responsibility so easily. I wonder…”

“Mhm?”

Kozue fell silent. When Kaho snuck a quick look at her, her eyes were closed. She continued driving smoothly. The journey slowly became shorter as she followed the GPS. A passing thought flew through her mind, of Kozue’s directions making their journey longer, but she shook her head, smiling foolishly. Surely it wasn’t on purpose.

“Have you… ever felt like you got everything you ever wanted?”

Kaho stared at her hands on the steering wheel. She doesn’t reply immediately, driving until she paused before a tall building, all glass. There’s a free parking spot where she parked with ease. The car remained silent when she shut it down. Neither of them moved. In her peripheral vision, she could see Kozue’s head leaning towards her, her eyes stuck to her profile.

Kaho smiled. Once, someone trusted in her with all she had. Trusted in Kaho who lacked the stamina the others had, who lacked their drive to win the Love Live for their own selfish reasons, who lacked routine and strength but who was always fighting to be better, to be worth the spot she held. Once, someone held her hands and thanked her for her trust and trusted in her more than anyone ever had.

Once, there was someone who trusted her with a dream that was worth a love felt during one’s entire life. Once, someone held her hands and told her it was her turn to continue that dream, to then hold another’s hand and tell them to continue that dream. Once, Kozue held Kaho’s hands and Kaho felt as if she too, had a dream worth chasing, something worth protecting. Once, they danced on their last stage together, sang and won. Once, Kozue smiled and held her hands and promised her a life as brilliant as those mere minutes on stage.

“Not really, Kozue.” Her voice was soft, breaking through the silence of the car as a bird that landed on water. There was no need for honorifics, she supposed, when they both opened to one another as they had done that one fateful day. “But I got very close once.”

When she woke up, her nose was filled with a scent as familiar as it was forgotten that Kaho thought she was still dreaming. She opened her eyes slowly, still deep in soft covers and an even softer pillow. The room was washed in a warm morning light. Kaho sat up, regretting each movement that took her away from comfort, trying to remember the night before.

Ah. The room was tidy, simple in décor. Flowers on the corner close to the window. Light, white curtains flowing from the half open window, a vanity table on the opposite of the room, a wardrobe beside it. A painting here and there in the walls. There was only one person whose room could elicit this much elegance and warmth.

Kaho slid off the bed. She was sure she’d fallen asleep on the couch last night after helping Kozue on the bed. So, then, how—

When she opened the bedroom door, she did not expect to see anyone else. Surely Kozue had already left, busy working or jogging or whatever she did now with her mornings—

“Ah, Kaho, you’re awake.” The bedroom door faced the open space of the living room and kitchen. Kaho blinked, finding Kozue in the kitchen wearing a frilly apron with… Megumi’s face? “Oh, this… Megumi bought it for me. It’s a gift from a collaboration she did once. Did you sleep well? I made some breakfast.”

Kaho nodded as if in a trance. Kozue’s living room radiated the same warmth as the bedroom. A big couch against the wall, a big TV before it, doors to a balcony on one side and the kitchen in the other. She walked towards the counter, finding pancakes and eggs and all they used to eat for breakfast when they would waste more than enough energies in activities. Now, Kaho was very sure she’d want to sleep again if she ate half of her ration.

“You didn’t have to… again.” Kozue flashed her a small smile, shy and warm. “But I’m never saying no to Kozue-senpai’s cooked breakfast!”

“Enjoy yourself,” replied Kozue. She continued cleaning the pots and pans. Kaho realized she was stalling, for whatever reason, to join her. When they both could see there wasn’t any more Kozue could fiddle with without seeming a bit crazy, she turned to Kaho.

“Kozue-senpai…”

“Yes?”

Kaho smiled, mouth full of eggs. “Aren’t you going to sit?”

“Oh! Sit! Yes.” Kozue behaved as if it was the first time she’d ever heard such a request, which made Kaho giggle and nearly choke on her food. Kozue dried her hands on her apron and sat beside Kaho, taking the eggs and a sausage as Kaho handed her a warm roll from her side. In that familiarity, they continued eating in silence.

… Which could only last so long before Kaho started to wonder what would be longer: the silence or the time it took Kozue to eat a single sausage and bread roll.

“Um… thank you.” It’s Kozue who broke the silence, glaring daggers at her plate. Kaho continued eating, munching quietly. “For last night. I know it’s not fun to spend your evenings with a drunk person.”

“Not if that person is you, Kozue-senpai.” Kaho reached over to Kozue’s plate, grabbed a slice of perfectly, even cut sausage and plopped it in her mouth, catching Kozue’s eyes who followed the motion with a fond smile. “You know I’d always come by your side if you need me.”

Kozue blinked. Kaho blinked. Both turned to look at their food again, cheeks red and hearts racing. Honesty always seemed to come easy to her in such cases, thought Kaho, just to see a smile bloom on Kozue’s face.

“Nonetheless, thank you. I can’t promise Megumi won’t call you again, but I will try to be less trouble.”

“I don’t know, I really found you cute last night! I didn’t know you had developed a taste for rock music.”

“Cute—” Kozue shoved a piece of bread roll on her mouth. Kaho bit her tongue to not giggle at her face. “I’m familiar with their producer. Togawa-san has been quite helpful in giving me sources on how to expand my producing skills in the genre.”

“Is that why Megu-chan had that one rock single with a Vocaloid producer?”

Kozue nodded, speaking much easier than before. Familiar grounds, supposed Kaho, something she had spoken of before. “Megumi always has an interest in trying her talent with new styles. Have you listened to her collaboration with that online music group?”

“Of course! It was in the first concert I managed to get tickets before they were sold out, or without asking Megu-chan for a VIP one.”

“We could have seen each other if that hadn’t been the case. I usually sit at the VIP section.” Kozue swallowed another bite with a smile. “Sometimes I don’t join her concerts when it’d taken me more than enough… time, I’d say, to convince her how to go for it. But she begged me for that one. It was a marvel, truly.”

Kaho nodded. “But what a shame! I’d have loved to see Kozue-senpai singing along! Do you wear merch when you attend the concerts?”

“Rarely,” murmured Kozue, cheeks flushed, gaze averted. Kaho could easily see through the lie. Despite how often she’d notice Megumi and Kozue bicker back at Hasunosora, or how often she’d hear of Kozue annoying Megumi through the latter, she knew how close both were.

The food felt far too salty as she thought that. Kozue doesn’t seem to be uncomfortable by the silence that fell between them, finishing her food and continuing with the tea beside her. Kaho stared at the food wondering just how many meals they’d missed sharing like this and how many Megumi hadn’t, how Megumi probably didn’t have to doubt her words the same way Kaho did, how the silence between the two of them lacked the awkwardness of hers and Kozue’s.

“But… I’m glad.” Kozue met her eyes over the teacup. “That Megumi called you. It’s… I’m glad it gave us a reason to meet.”

“Do we really need that, though?” Kaho placed the egg on her fork, then the sausage on it. Her voice was quiet, mouth running before her mind could catch up. “A reason?”

“Huh?”

She took the final bite of her food with a small laugh. When she swallowed, Kozue continued staring at her cluelessly. “Kaho—”

“I mean, I’m glad too, Kozue-senpai! I’m glad we could meet.”

Kozue stared at her for a long, long moment, before moving on, agreeing with a slow nod. She stood and took their plates to the sink as Kaho remained sitting, staring at the living room. To think they lived close and yet saw each other so rarely. Like ships in the night, thought Kaho with a smile, missing each other by seconds.

“Do you want me to drive you home? It’s Saturday but maybe there’s something you might need to do. I wouldn’t want to keep you.”

Kaho shook her head with a smile. Even seconds could last so much. Two planes could fly close, but you could only fly so long in opposite directions at the same time before you lost each other to the horizon.

“I can go by myself, Kozue-senpai, I’ve already overstayed my welcome. The breakfast was delicious, thank you!”

Kozue stared as the dishes filled with water. Kaho wondered how something so mundane could feel so special, how much she’d want this moment to last even a second longer.

“You could never overstay,” said Kozue, voice soft. “You’ve… always been welcome here. For as long as you want.”

The tap shut off. Kaho remained staring at Kozue’s back. Kozue remained staring at the dishes. Kaho gathered the courage to break the moment, heading to the bathroom. Her heart slammed against her ribcage, and she wondered if Kozue’s was too.

“Kaho, I’ve left some clothes by the door. You may take a shower and wear them, if you wish.”

“I- Thank you! I appreciate that!”

Kozue walked away and left Kaho alone, more than once again, with her thoughts. Kaho breathed in, out, smiled at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. This was for the best. This was for the best. This was—

“Is that Kozue-senpai’s shirt?”

Nowhere close to being for the best. Kaho blinked, barely sat down before Ginko. The other girl blushed in embarrassment, as if surprised by her own words.

“I’m sorry, Kaho. I uh… I gave that shirt as a present to Kozue-senpai, it’s why I was surprised.”

Of course, couldn’t give me one of her actual shirts, thought a part of Kaho.

Of course, she and Ginko still talk and exchange gifts, thought another part.

Please reply to Ginko before she thinks she offended your entire bloodline because she suggested you and Kozue have human contact, said the part of Kaho that she chose to listen to.

“I- yeah! Such a sharp eye, Ginko-chan! We met last night, and I stayed over so I had nothing else to change into the next day.”

Ginko nodded her head, and Kaho wondered if what she said completely flew over Ginko’s head.

“I suppose you and Kozue-senpai are quite used to doing things like that…” Ginko took a sip of her tea serenely, as if she didn’t just suggest what she did. “Did you two have fun?”

“We… uh…” Kaho thought of Kozue screaming the lyrics of More More Jump!, tears in her eyes as she begged for another beer and forgetting she already had one in hand. “We did, yeah! It was nice to finally find a time to meet up.”

“I’m glad to hear that, though I suppose as Hime says, distance does make the heart grow fonder.” Kaho blinked. Ginko continued. “Have you been doing well, Kaho? I heard you were handling a new project—”

Conversation with Ginko, thought idly Kaho, had only grown more comfortable with the years passing. Unlike she and Kozue, a senpai and junior that parted ways, she and Ginko remained in close contact even as Kaho graduated and as they both began their adult lives. Ginko had grown softer, too, more at ease with her. It made Kaho smile, how she’d grown into herself, just as everyone else had.

Have you… ever felt like you got everything you ever wanted?

Kaho caught her reflection on the tea. Not everyone, maybe. Maybe there was more shared between her and Kozue than the memory of their old bond.

“The party Sayaka-senpai is organizing is tomorrow, isn’t it?”

“Is it tomorrow already?!” Kaho opened her phone, frowning. “Did time gain legs and decide to run… I was sure it was happening in a couple of days.” And considering Kozue had told her see you soon, Kaho, she’d have expected some days, or even a week. Not—

“Will Kozue-senpai join you?”

Kaho paused. “Kozue-senpai?”

“I suppose you two would come together tomorrow, seeing as she drove you here today.” Kaho gulped, the way one would when they were caught stealing a bank and having killed all their accomplices. Which wasn’t the case, despite what her quick heartbeat thought. “I… I must admit, we were all worried, for a while.”

“Eh? Worried?”

Ginko nodded, sipping at her tea. The light was warm from outside, highlighting the softness of Ginko’s cheeks, the way her eyes shone brighter when she smiled at Kaho. “During high school, you remained very tight lipped about Kozue-senpai. Then your trip happened before you began university and… We were just wondering. If something had happened that night Kozue-senpai went to visit you.”

Kaho nodded. Opened her mouth to speak and then paused.

“What do you mean when Kozue-senpai came to visit me?”

Ginko froze, a deer caught in headlights. At the same moment, Kaho’s phone rang, Kozue’s name flashing at the screen. A message.

Would you want to come over tonight? You can bring back your clothes, and I can show you something I was preparing for Sayaka’s party tomorrow.

Kaho blinked. Another message came.

You don’t have to, if you don’t want.

The next message came faster. Had Kozue become a good texter on the years they’d barely texted one another?

Bring the clothes or come, I mean. You can come over if you wish. I can pick you up.

Kaho turned the phone over, looking at Ginko with a confused smile.

“What were you saying about Kozue-senpai, Ginko-chan…?”

All I know is what Hime overheard from Megumi-senpai, so word of mouth.

The reflection in the car’s window was all Kaho focuses on. If she looked a bit to her left, she could almost notice Kozue’s reflection.

Apparently on the last night before you contacted the rest that you were coming back to Tokyo, Kozue-senpai drove to where you were.

“Kaho,” said Kozue, voice warm and silky, polite in her diction. “Is everything okay?”

Kaho turned to her, head leaned back. Kozue drove slowly, as if wanting to make Kaho feel safer. Took a different route towards her home, shorter and less busy than the one they’d taken last night. It brought a smile to Kaho’s lips, one step closer to properly understanding someone she had years trying to and failing to.

Megumi-senpai said Kozue-senpai never told her all about what happened that night, but you came the next day, so we thought… Well, that you two met and talked things out. You two haven’t mentioned each other all that much these years, so it was a source of worry for us all.

“Yup! Can’t wait to see what Kozue-senpai has cooked for us tonight, that’s all!”

Kozue smiled at her. “Hopefully something you will enjoy. I’m much more of a baker, though these past few years I’ve been told I’m relatively good at cooking too.”

“Fufu, are you nervous?” Even in the darkness of the car, Kaho noticed the darker shade of red Kozue’s ears took. “As long as we have fun, I’m sure the food will taste amazing too! After all—”

So, I’m glad that you two are still close. But Kaho… didn’t you two meet that night? You did tell me that you two spoke, though. Why would Kozue-senpai not meet with you then?

“All Kozue-senpai does is amazing, isn’t it?” Kaho reached out, flickered Kozue’s hand on the gearshift with a heart softer than what her eyes probably reflected. “I’ll trust you to amaze me with whatever you’re cooking.”

Kozue glanced back at Kaho before focusing on the street and that was all of it, both left smiling and in their own heads. Kozue, hoped Kaho, was not questioning things the same way she was, troubled as she was.

Kozue might have changed, realized Kaho, but so had she, during these years.

I’m sure Kozue-senpai had her reasons, Ginko-chan! Maybe I’ll ask her like a super-secret mind-reading spy, how’s that? Besides! She did help me that day, so it’s not like there’d be much else to add to what she told me. It’s what it is. Now, tell me about what Hime-chan is planning for tomorrow, she texted me—

“Kozue-senpai are you sure—”

“Don’t worry, Kaho,” sad Kozue, the calmness in her face putting Buddha to shame, as she stirred at the pan on the stove. “This is a recipe I’ve cooked many times before.” Kaho stared at the meat on the pan who was clearly not agreeing with her. “… Or at least once.”

“I can help, you know!” Instead of simply sitting at the highchair next to the counter, chin on her hand and legs swinging. “I’m not a damsel, Kozue-senpai!”

“You are a guest, that’s what you are.” Kozue threw her a quick look, charming in a shy confidence only Kozue could pull off. She held a bottle of some kind of liquid in her hand. “Let me handle this.”

As if she were in one of the books Kaho read, the meat on the stove found that exact moment to burst into flames. Kaho only stared, mouth open just as wide as her eyes, as Kozue let out a shrill and threw the pan on the sink with a strength that she worried how the pan was still intact. Or the sink. Or any other part of the kitchen.

They stared at the pan as it sizzles. Kozue looked down at her hand.

“Oh.”

Kaho’s chair slid against the floor before she could help herself, walking around the counter to reach Kozue. Her hand reached towards Kozue’s wrist, staring at the red burns scattered on the space between thumb and pointer finger.

“So… I suppose we can order in?” asked Kozue, voice small. Kaho rolled her eyes and smiled. Kozue’s guilty smile melt into an embarrassed one at her expression.

“Let’s get you fixed up, Kozue-senpai.” Kaho grasped both of Kozue’s hand with one of hers, dragging her towards the bathroom. “We don’t want your pretty hands to suffer, do we?”

“Yes, that would be wise.” Kozue nodded, then registered what Kaho had said. “Wait, my what—”

“Next time, how about we cook together?”

Kozue’s bathroom was nearly half as big as her apartment. Which isn’t saying much, but Kaho took pride in the comfort of her small apartment, and it was also why Kozue’s bathroom scared her. The sole reason she didn’t focus on her nerves was because of the warmth associated with the fact the bathroom belonged to Kozue of all people.

“I’m supposed to be the older one here,” muttered Kozue. “I can manage dinner by myself.”

“Does Kozue-senpai not want my help by her side?” Kaho pouted, kneeling before Kozue as she applied some cream on Kozue’s hand. The burns weren’t as serious as she thought, but she’d rather be safe than sorry, especially if it involved Kozue. Or her hands. Her warm, soft and elegant hands—

“I- That’s not it. I just…” Kaho looked up. Kozue looked away, neck a shade of ripe tomatoes. Of the red tulips Kaho would sell back home. “I wanted to do this. For you. I already took most of your day, and I wanted to repay you.”

Kaho smiled. Her eyes lowered to Kozue’s hands. She was barely able to hold them in hers. An existence bigger than Kozue. Her lovely hands. Hands that composed music loved by thousands; hands that composed music loved by Kaho. Hands that tried to make a dinner just to repay Kaho—

Repay her for what? What had Kaho done but let herself fall into old habits, caught willingly in the whirlwind that was Otomune Kozue? Kozue could have reached her years ago, could have reached her years later, and Kaho would still probably find herself in the same position. Kneeling and trying her best to protect those lovely hands in ways that were so small compared to what they could do.

“Why repay me?” Her voice was weak; despite the light tone she tried giving it. She placed a band aid on Kozue’s burns, thumb caressing above it. “Can’t it just be like old times? Just doing things for the sake of seeing each other smile?”

A moment of silence. Kaho doesn’t hear Kozue breathe as she came face to face with her senpai. Her Kozue in whose eyes she could see her own reflection, who looked at her as if she were one of the bunnies Kaho loved. Innocent, trusting, blind as a bunny that hopped on a wolf’s den, who expected things to be a certain way and was shocked to find the rules reversed.

“Isn’t… isn’t that the same though?” Kozue breathed again. Kaho felt the warmth of her exhale against her lips. “After all, you….”

“I…?”

The phone rang and Kaho fell back in surprise. Kozue lunged towards her, caught Kaho while kneeling, one arm around her waist and the other clutching at the sink. It’d take barely a movement of her head for their lips to touch. Kaho blinked, felt a familiar heat from under her shirt to the tip of her ears. Kozue was the same as they helped each other stand, giggling politely and embarrassed.

“I’ll- I’ll go get that. Um, sorry,” mumbled Kozue before passing beside her. Kaho’s eyes flutter closed. Flowery scent; roses. Warmth of a fireplace. When she focused, she could hear Kozue’s voice in the other room, speaking lowly with someone.

Kaho washed her hands and walked out. Kozue stood by the windows by the end of the hallway, the lights of Tokyo reflecting in her silhouette. Kaho stared in silence, for a moment, stole one more moment she could not otherwise. Years spent talking to Kozue over messages, respecting an unspoken line. She’d never visited before; Kozue hadn’t visited her place either. Why, she wondered. They spoke sometimes, even if short conversations. They hung out in groups on the rare cases all their friends could gather, which were very rare.

Why exactly had their homes become a red line? Why hadn’t Kaho been able to see the plants Kozue had named, the shape of Kozue against the starry lights of thousands of lives lived at the same time as they lived theirs? Just why—

“Ah, Kaho?” She’d closed the phone call, apologetic. “I apologize. Megumi’s manager called. There’s an issue with a recording I sent, so they want me to send it again.”

“Oh! Can I help?”

“There’s no—” Kozue paused. Her eyes meet Kaho’s, smile shy. “Actually, I’ll need to work on it now, so I unfortunately won’t be able to cook something else. Why don’t you order in for us?”

“I can do that! We can eat as you work on what you need to, how’s that?”

Kozue nodded, self-satisfaction radiating off her. Had she expected Kaho to suggest that? Kaho could suppose she had; the thought made her smile.

She tidied the kitchen as Kozue went to her office, ordered the food and picked it up when it arrived. She knocked on Kozue’s door and invited herself in. The studio office was simple, the right wall entirely glass, a piano, guitar and violin by the left wall. A couch on that side, and Kozue sat on the table beside it, illuminated from the light of the computer. When she noticed Kaho’s shadow nearby, she looked up with a bashful smile.

“I’m sorry to do this so suddenly. But I’ll be done quickly so I can show you what I worked on for Sayaka’s party tomorrow.”

“Take your time, Kozue-senpai!” Kaho worked on opening the containers, mixing the noodles to freshen them. “It’s not like this is the first time I see you handle music.”

Kozue accepted the noodles with a smile, bowing her head in gratitude. Kaho watched her from the couch whenever she could do so without Kozue looking back, which was only half of the time. Kozue worked with ease; tunes repeating and the clicking of the mouse a lullaby on its own. Sometimes Kozue paused, took a gulp of noodles, smiled in satisfaction and continued again. Kaho finished first, gathered her things and walked up to the windows.

The city, despite the late hour, was bursting with life. Kaho blamed Kozue living so close to the centre for that. This high up, it was as if they were on a world of their own. That’d be nice, a world with only Kozue and her in it. Perhaps the proximity could drive them to be as close as they were on their Hasunosora days, give Kaho a chance of having Kozue close by, a wall and a light all at once.

“Enjoying the view?” Kozue walked up behind her silently; hands locked behind her back. “It’s one of the reasons I picked this apartment.”

“You can see so much of Tokyo from here… I bet it feels good for inspiration.”

“Fufu… I’d say I feel more inspired with the view inside of my apartment for now.”

Kaho snapped her head towards Kozue, but she’s already moved away, fluid like water in her movements. What had she meant by that…? For a moment, she almost saw the same warmth as she had received from Kozue years ago, lacking the clumsiness achieved by years grown tense.

“Thank you for the food, Kaho.” Kozue sat by her chair again, this time angled fully towards her. “It seems as if I’ll be in your care for most of the time we spend together.”

“It’s not like I mind that much,” she replied with ease. “Kozue-senpai is cute in a different way when she needs help.”

“I—” Kozue coughed and turned away. Even in the dim light of the room, the light of the computer allowed Kaho to notice the redness of her cheeks. “At least you’re enjoying yourself, then.”

“Sure am! Did you finish what you had to do?”

“I did. It seems the file had been mistakenly deleted and when recovered, it had more glitches than it should. Do you want me to show you the surprise for tomorrow?” Kozue turned just enough to meet her eyes, beckoning her with a glance. “I’d love to hear your opinion.”

And Kaho, as any sailor called by a siren’s song, did she truly have any other choice but—

“Coming! Let’s have a look at Kozue-senpai’s newest record-breaking surprise.”

The next day passed in a flash. Kozue let her sleep over. After they shared a coffee when they woke up, Kaho was taken home to prepare for the day. Thankfully, it was a Saturday, so there was a distinct lack of worry for not having enough time to wrap Sayaka’s present or find a good enough outfit for the party. When there were still hours to the party, Kaho found herself sitting on the couch with nothing to do. Huh, she’d have expected to have been more in a rush.

Her phone rang. She picked it up.

“How’s my favourite junior in the whole world doing?!”

“Megu-chan, please don’t let Hime-chan hear that.”

Megumi laughed on the other side of the phone call. “I can have more than one favourite junior, geez! Say, do you have any free time on your hands right now?”

“Surprisingly, yes. What is it?”

“Perfect! I already told Kozue to come pick you up. I need extra hands for the surprise party set up. Tsuzuri panicked and took Sayaka to the ocean because she couldn’t lie about having to set up, so I need you to help me.”

Kaho barely registered anything else from that speech beside the first sentence.

“You told who—”

The bell rang. Kaho froze. Megumi giggled.

“Always so reliable, that Kozue. I’ll see you in a bit then, love you!”

Kaho opened the door to find Kozue standing before her, wearing a long, beige coat and a smile.

“Kaho. It seems you’re ready.” Kozue lifted a transparent plastic bag, mischief in the edge of her lips. “I’m quite sure that Megumi didn’t tell you soon enough, so why don’t we let her boil for a while longer? I’m sure we can spare a snack or two from her personal order.”

Oh god, Kaho thought. Did Kozue wink at her—

Why did Kozue somehow become even more attractive in her eyes with the years? Was this a case like that of wine? Kaho grinned widely, hoped it hid the panic within her.

“Well… who am I to reject my senpai’s advice?”

Megumi nearly throttled Kozue when they arrived half an hour later than they should have, which wasn’t saying much, considering it took Kozue a single glare to make her hand go from trying to wrestle Kozue into simply wrapping around her shoulders. It made Kaho smile as it made her bitter, the comfort that came from a bond long lasting and long tested.

The party, despite their hectic set up, managed to go perfectly. Sayaka blushed and teared up when she arrived with Tsuzuri by her side, bowing repeatedly at all of them. Ruri handled the decorations of the cake Kozue made and it was the most delicious thing she’d eaten, which then led to what Megumi screamed as party time, which ended up being Tsuzuri doing a performance for Sayaka, who sat through it with tears and a party hat messily put on by Kosuzu.

It was hours in when Kaho looked around and noticed Kozue missing. Izumi and Ceras had stolen Sayaka away for a surprise that Kaho could hear Sayaka screaming in panic about, but Kaho could let her handle that by herself. Everyone but Kozue was accounted for. As if hearing her inner voice, Tsuzuri leaned in, sitting with Kaho by the counter.

“Kozu is outside.” Kaho blinked. Tsuzuri nodded, her comically huge party sunglasses falling down her nose with the movement. “If you want her.”

“I- I’ll go check on her!”

She tethered through her friends dancing with a smile, coming outside with a sigh. The air was crisp, quiet, unlike the robust atmosphere inside. Kaho loved it, but she loved this quiet too, the way it made her focus on the world around even better. Now all she had to do was—

“Kaho?”

She turned to look at the corner of the balcony. Megumi’s apartment, just like Kozue’s, sat over most, with a beautiful balcony most likely curated by Ruri, if the many flowers and Ruri’s newfound interest in them had anything to do with it. That was perhaps why she kept asking for flower recommendations, and tips on how to care for them. Ruri, however, was all forgotten when she meets Kozue’s eyes, a sliver of smoke coming from—

“Kozue-senpai…” Kozue was an adult, but in her mind, she would always also be the senpai that cared for Kaho when she was sick and told her to stay away from unhealthy habits. “Are you smoking?”

Guilty as charged. Kozue smiled, caught in the act. She was holding a small ashtray, unlike the décor of the balcony. Did she always keep that with herself? It felt like something she’d do, thought Kaho, take care of all inconveniences before they even had a chance to be one.

“I apologize, let me…” She stumped it against her ashtray, even if Kaho could see it still had more than half without burning. “There. Did you want some fresh air too?”

She walked by her side, leaning her back against the glass railing. Kozue remained in a similar position to before, half leaning against the couch, hands before her after she put the ashtray to the nearby table. She was dressed as elegantly as Kaho remembered, a green dress that fluttered as it reached her knees. Kaho could notice her collarbones from the sharp neckline of the dress. She looked away, towards the party.

“Yeah! I also didn’t see you around, so…”

Kozue nodded with a smile. “I needed some quiet. As fun as it is with everyone, I think it got a bit tiring listening to my own playlist.”

“Very good playlist, though!” A head tilt, a wide smile. “Just what to expect from you!”

Head lowered, teeth showing from a pleased smile. An exchange as practiced as it could be, as old as time. Kaho pointed to the ashtray. “Don’t stop on my account, if you want to. I’m sorry I interrupted—”

Kozue shook her head; eyes locked with Kaho’s. Time for Kozue to take centre stage. “I wouldn’t. Not with you here, at least. I don’t think it’ll be good for your health, Kaho.” A playful wink. “Not the right time to follow the example set before you.”

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the atmosphere of laughing and screaming and dancing that gave Kaho the rush of adrenaline to lean forward and—

“Try me, Kozue-senpai.” Kozue blinked, taken aback. Kaho grabbed the cigarette’s pack beside her and pulls it open, far too used to the movement from all the shows she saw. “I’m not just a junior you have to take care of. I got it.”

Kozue, whose brain was possibly just as slow as Kaho’s felt, moves without tearing her eyes away from Kaho’s. The thing about Kozue, Kaho remembered, was that it was easy to make her fall on the knee when it came to her asking for something. It only took the right amounts of pressure, the right tilt of her voice and—

Maybe it was mean of her, to use old tactics her childish self would use. But it didn’t matter then, Kozue’s hand placing a cigarette on her own lips. She showed the lighter to Kaho, as a teacher would to a student.

“You protect it like this, from the air.” Her voice was low, bashful in a Kozue way no one could ever replicate. Kaho watched the cigarette light up, a star breaking through the dark balcony. “Here you go, Kaho.”

Kozue took it from her own lips and reached it towards Kaho, pausing when Kaho leaned her own head forward. Clumsy movements, closeness once natural now tense, Kozue’s fingers gentle as they placed the cigarette on Kaho’s lips. “Breathe slowly, hold it in for a moment, and—”

Kozue doesn’t get to finish her words before she pulled the cigarette back, Kaho coughing loudly. She looked guilty as she held it away from her. “I’m sorry—"

“It’s not your—” Kaho coughed again, just for good measure. “It’s not your fault, Kozue-senpai. I just wanted to…” She felt her cheeks flush from more than the exertion of the cough. “I just wanted to try looking cool like you.”

Kozue stared at her for a long, long moment, which was possibly mere seconds, before she shook her head, laughing quietly as she put out the cigarette. She pulled out a candy from her pocket; the same type she used to give Kaho for a job well done back when she’d tutor her for exams. Kaho took it with a grin, humming gratefully at the taste.

“While I’m… glad, that you find me cool, there’s no need to copy me to feel that way.” Kozue folded her hands, thumbs hitting against each other in regular intervals. A beat in her mind, thought Kaho. “I find you very cool, actually, without the need to pick up an unhealthy habit.”

Kaho opted to ignore the first part of that statement, grinning mischievously. “Then why is it your habit?”

“For comfort, as many bad habits begin.” Kozue looked up at the sky, purple hair falling past her shoulders. “I try not to make it too much of a habit, though, but tonight…”

Kaho nodded. Sometimes she felt as if there was something heavy in her heart that she couldn’t get away from, no matter how hard she tried. Her apartment would feel too small and everything else too uncomfortable and she’d sit outside and read until the sun rose again, uncaring of the cold or heat. She supposed Kozue could feel similar at times and would smoke to distract herself in a similar fashion.

“Kaho.” Kaho hummed, eyes trained on the length of Kozue’s neck, the way the muscles worked as Kozue gulped. “Are you free next week?”

“Depends on what day! There’s this—” Kaho blushed, scratched her nose. “Actually, you’d be the first person I’d tell, Kozue-senpai. I got a job offer. Temporary, but it’s still a good opportunity.”

“Oh?” Kozue perked up, met her eyes with a smile. “I’m proud of you. From a different publishing house, or…?”

“Same one, actually! They need some support on our offices in Paris, as we’re looking to expand further on Europe. It’s only temporary for now, but if I like it after a year, I could stay there for longer!”

Something changed in Kozue’s face. The change was so small she could not pinpoint what it was, like a movement from the corner of her eye that wasn’t seen if she looked towards it. It made her feel crazy, as if she was imagining things. She could as well be, when Kozue stepped closer and pat her head, the movement practised and done with ease.

“That’s amazing, and I’m not surprised they’d trust you with such a thing. I suppose you’re leaving—”

“Oh, no! Not next week, the week after. I’ll just call with them on Tuesday about flight details, so any time after that, I’d be free. Why do you ask?”

“Huh…?”

Kaho smiled. “Why did you ask if I’m free—”

“Ah!” Kozue looked away. “Ah. Um… there’s this, festival in Shimoda. Many local artists will show their art, and there’s a section dedicated to music. And books. I thought you’d…” Kozue shrugged weakly, eyes trained to her hands. They hadn’t stopped twitching ever since they moved away from Kaho’s head. “I thought you’d want to come. Megumi would come with me, but she’s busy, and I thought you might enjoy it.” When she looked up, Kaho did not know what she saw her in face that made her panic and rush out her next words. “Or you can go with someone else, if you want! I can send you the tickets, and the hotel reservation—”

“Kozue-senpai.” She said each vowel with a pause, grasping Kozue’s hands and holding them between hers. “Of course I’ll come with you! This week is relatively slow for me, so I won’t even have much to do from work, either way.” She swung their hands once more for good measure, looking up to Kozue with a smile. “Alright?”

Kozue smiled at her, affectionally leaning down to tap their foreheads together. “Alright. Thank… you…”

But their brains had slowed down far too much, enough to not process that they should lean back, or that Kaho should definitely not hold their hands so close to her body, as if pulling Kozue in. Kozue’s breath was warm, lightly smelling of smoke but Kaho didn’t mind, not when it was Kozue, not when green eyes shone before her, fluttering—

“Here is my favourite duo!”

Kozue moved away so fast that Kaho barely has time to process what they nearly did before Kozue slid away as if she were water, coughing and pushing past Megumi with a mumble to go inside. Kaho remained in the same spot; the warmth of Kozue’s hands and breath etched on her skin.

“Did I… Oh, I interrupted something, didn’t I?”

Kaho hoped the glare she gave Megumi was enough to show the crazy weight of emotions she felt welled up within her, a storm that she refused to let out.

“Megumi-senpai…” Megumi winced. “Next time Ruri-chan comes to me for advice for your relationship, I’m suggesting her to break up with you.”

And like junior, like senpai, she pushed past Megumi, who only yelled after her, chasing her down by wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Kaho glared but doesn’t move the arm away. She noticed Kozue by the set-up bar on the kitchen counter, talking to Sayaka as if nothing had happened outside. It burned a bit, as if what they passed was nothing more than just another regular Tuesday for Kozue. Maybe it was. Who knew of the many girls that would have been on that position with—

“Ohhhhh!” Megumi followed her trail of sight, laughing. “I see how this is! How about we get a drink or two in you, served by your very own lovely idol, and we see how to turn that frown in a grin?”

Kaho, for all its worth, refused to say no to that. Maybe it’d help her. After all, what was the worst that could happen?

The worst that could happen, did, in fact, happen. Kaho wanted to curse all alcohol and the concept of a senpai (Megumi) and all people who knew how to make cocktails (Megumi, even if it was Ruri that handled most of the cocktail making) and everything that made the world feel as wobbly as it did. Goodness, this was exactly why she only drank on times she knew she’d go sleep right after inside her own home.

Hopefully Sayaka would let her crash here, even if technically this was Tsuzuri’s place—

“Oof!” A steady arm slithered around her waist, a familiar floral scent overwhelming her senses. Kaho blinked. Kozue stared down at her, smile wide. “Don’t tell me it’s time for a role reversal?”

“I told you to stop giving her that many drinks,” sad a voice beside her. Ruri. “Look at poor Kaho-chan. Kozue-senpai, let me help—”

She was pulled closer, and Kaho’s nose stuffed against Kozue’s coat. Such a soft coat. She’d have to ask what detergent Kozue used to have such nice smelling clothes. Around her, she heard the muffled voices of Kozue convincing Ruri she’d take care of Kaho, and both berating Megumi.

“Megu-chan is a… meanie,” muttered Kaho. She focused enough to hear Megumi’s gasp and—

“Ruri-chan, your Megu-chan feels dizzy too! Let Kozue handle her junior in peace!”

“Doesn’t that make you the one who should take care of me…?”

“I- Well! Role reversal, or whatever Kozue said earlier!”

Ruri and Megumi continued bickering, which was more of what Kaho assumed Megumi cuddling into Ruri like a big dog that doesn’t remember how much it has grown. The mental image made her giggle against Kozue’s chest. The movement brought Kozue’s attention again to her.

“Kaho, are you okay?” Kozue’s voice was a soft murmur, head lowered to whisper close to her ear. “I’ll help you get home, alright? Don’t worry.”

Kaho leaned back to pat Kozue’s cheek with the smile of someone who was willing to die and die happy if they put their life on someone else’s hands. “So responsible… Are you going to carry me too?”

The darkness of the building’s entrance was a curse even if the sharpness of the evening air helped her focus better. But she couldn’t see Kozue clear enough, just heard her giggle and nod her head.

“I’ll drive us to your place, but I can carry you there. How’s that?”

Kaho shook her head, hands grasping at Kozue’s lapels to not fall back when she moved her entire body backwards and forwards. Kozue barely even moved from the weight change, hands loose around Kaho’s hips.

“No, no, no!” She punctuated each word with a movement that leaves her dizzier than before. “What’s this now?! You carried me like a princess when you didn’t even know me! Did you know that—” She turned to Megumi and Ruri, who stood beside them with faces that resembled two people who were trying not to spit the water in their mouth. “You two! This Kozue-senpai here was so kind… strong… very, very warm—”

“Alright!” Kozue coughed. Kaho felt confused. She hadn’t even finished praising her— “I’ll take Kaho to my car. Are you two okay with driving by yourself, or do you want me to drop you off? I’m sober so I can do it.”

“Nah, you two lovebirds go together. Despite getting that one so drunk, I didn’t drink all that much.”

“And we’re going to walk,” added Ruri. “So, no worries! Let us know when you get home, Kozue-senpai?”

“I will. You too, Ruri-san.” Kozue’s arm slid fuller around her waist, holding Kaho’s weight against her body. “Well then, goodnight and see you soon.”

They exchanged greetings and Kozue lead her to the underground parking lot. Most of the way is spent with Kaho giggling and nearly walking off, and Kozue holding her close. Getting ready for them to drive off took more than necessary time, mostly because—

“Kaho, please, do not unbuckle your seat belt again.”

Kaho, despite being told so, remembered that she never had a rebellious junior phase and decided to live her youth now. She unbuckled it again. Kozue sighed but nonetheless leaned over again from her seat, and—

Ah, there it was. That specific, floral smell—

“Kozue-senpai… What perfume do you use?” Kaho muttered, nose buried in the space between Kozue’s long, flowing hair and her shoulder. She was very sure she bumped her ear with her nose. “It smells so good. Is it still the same one we used to buy together?”

Kozue didn’t move, one hand still on Kaho’s thigh and the other on the seatbelt buckle. Kaho nuzzled closer, eyes closed and found herself overwhelmed by the happiness she felt. Kozue always smelled good, and she’d missed feeling her this close, to be this close with no shame.

“Kaho…” She felt embarrassed, despite being drunk enough that her head felt heavier than her body, when Kozue pulled away and she whined. But then Kozue placed a hand on her cheek, thumb under her chin. She’d done this once, her body remembered, when Kaho kept protesting to study beside Kozue and Kozue promised she’d teach her a new song on the piano if she was good and finished her math exercises with no mistakes.

Safe to say, she’d done as told. And safe to say, now, she kept quiet, eyes focusing on Kozue’s green ones.

“I need to drive you home now, and I can’t do that if you don’t stay still.” Request laid out. Now came Kaho’s favourite step— “If you let me drive, I promise I’ll carry you home. Alright?”

Years would pass, but Kozue didn’t change much for certain things. It made Kaho smile, more the feeling that she was still a Kozue that she knew than the reward she’d receive. Kozue would tell her to do something, then dangle something Kaho wanted before her. Like a donkey and a carrot, she thought, as Kozue started the car and drove. The thought often made her sad, on the nights she’d drink alone and remember the times she and Kozue were attached to the hip. Now it made her giggle, and giggle and—

“What’s funny?” asked Kozue, voice kind. Kaho’s head fell limply to the side, eyes tracing Kozue’s profile.

“You,” replied Kaho. “Kozue-senpai is like… a donkey with a carrot. Or wait, I’m the donkey. And you’re the carrot.” She sighed. “Or what you do is the carrot. You’re the person that hung the carrot.”

“I… see?” Kozue glanced at her. “Do you wish to explain more…?”

“It’s embarrassing.” So was her voice. Goodness. She was twenty-six. She wasn’t supposed to pout like a kid. But honesty shouldn’t have an age, should it? “You want me to do things for you, and you dangle rewards for me to chase after. I became an idol like that, kind of. Kozue-senpai promised me to bloom and all I’d have to do was go through torture daily…!”

Kozue laughed softly at that. Sometimes to her it was as if Kozue existed in such a way as if not to bother the air around her, each movement a music of its own. “I’d have to let you know that those exercises did you more good than bad, Kaho. And you yourself said so more than once.” Then, in a softer voice. “And I hope that’s the case, at least.”

“You’re right, but still!” Kaho curled against the seat. Tokyo lights lit their profiles as they continued driving. “Sometimes… I feel like you could tell me to… I don’t know! Steal an alien from the government or something, and I’d do it if I got a hug after!”

“An alien, huh?” Slowly, the car came to a stop, and Kozue turned to her with a smile. “What about we take it slower, and we just get you home first?”

Kaho nodded, moving to open the car door by herself. She closed her eyes, clenching them. One, two, three. She opened them again and looked up. Kozue stood before her, and Kaho’s building behind her. She smiled, hand outstretched. Kaho placed hers on it. No one moved until Kozue cleared her throat.

“I was… um… Just take out your keys, please.” Kaho doesn’t let go of the hand, muttering curses under her breath as she tried grabbing with her other hand the keys in the opposite pocket. When she fished them out, Kozue let go of their hands to open the buttons of her coat.

“Now, I’ll pick you up, so close your eyes to not get dizzy. Hold the keys in your hand so you can open the door for us.”

“Pick me—”

“I promised to carry you, didn’t I?” Kozue tilted her head and winked. “I keep my promises.”

Kaho did know that, and Kozue is thankfully kind. She’s slow with the way she held Kaho, arm strong against her back and one under her legs to raise her with ease. For a moment, she was worried Kozue wouldn’t be strong enough, or she’d be too heavy, but when she opened her eyes, Kozue walked on as if she was holding nothing, smiling warmly at Kaho as they began going to the entrance of the building.

She felt like a princess, held warmly against Kozue’s soft chest. Kozue only paused for Kaho to open the door, and then to press the elevator button. Before she did, however—

“It’s um- It’s broken!”

Kozue stared at it, confused. “It doesn’t say so anywhere. Didn’t we use it earlier today— “

“Yes, but—” Kaho coughed as she looked away. “It fails, sometimes. And we might get stuck there.”

A pause. The hallway felt uncomfortably silent until Kozue laughed, unrestricted and kind. “Alright, let’s take the stairs then.” And as if it was just another day, Kozue began climbing the stairs, Kaho secure in her grasp.

Kaho leaned her head against Kozue’s, nose tickling her hair and cheek. “I feel like the rice in an onigiri.”

“Am I the wrapping?”

“Such a good wrapper…” Kaho giggled. “It’s like we’re getting married.”

Kozue’s cheek heated warmly against Kaho’s face, her heartbeat strong against Kaho’s hand. “Is that so?”

“Kozue-senpai is walking us after the wedding… this is called a bridal carry for a reason, right? Just like when we first met!”

“It’s also a very easy way to carry someone…” muttered Kozue. Kaho’s heart broke slowly, and she swallowed. Why did her eyes burn…

“Does Kozue-senpai hate marrying Kaho so much…”

Maybe Kozue felt her nearly burst into tears, because they had reached her door, but she hadn’t told Kaho to open it. She tilted her head back to look down at Kaho. Even if she was red in the face, her voice remained steady. “It’s not that. I was just noting something.” Kozue’s smile was sincere, even if her voice was low in embarrassment. “Marriage with you is not something to hate, Kaho.”

Kaho giggled and made to open the door, even if it took a try or two to put the key in the hole and twist it. When they entered, she threw her hands in the air, trusting Kozue wouldn’t hopefully drop her.

“We’re getting married!”

Kozue placed her down on the small step by the door. She kneeled before Kaho, helping her take her shoes off. She didn’t meet Kaho’s eyes, even as they continued talking and undressing.

“With no wedding party?”

“Ruri-chan and Sayaka-chan can organize it for us! Why not!”

Kozue slid the coat off Kaho’s shoulders, humming, “And what of guests?”

“Only our friends! A close wedding! Then we do another one with family. Kozue-senpai’s apartment is huge enough for that!”

Kozue laughed as she led Kaho further inside. “I don’t think it’s that big. For the family wedding, at least.”

Kaho stopped in her steps, meeting Kozue’s eyes with a frown. “You’re making fun of me.” She turned her back to her. “Meanie Kozue-senpai. I won’t marry you, then. Go marry Megu-chan.”

“Megumi?” Kozue tried facing her, but Kaho continued turning around, despite the headache that it was giving her. “What does she- Kaho, stop spinning around—”

“No! Kozue-senpai makes fun of me! Fine! Go marry that special person you talked about in the radio!”

“In the- Kaho!” She stops spinning and doesn’t try to touch Kaho, nor try to turn her around. Kaho stared at the wall and felt seven again, like that one time she ran away because she was sicker from having to stay inside all day than she was sick with her health and waited until her mother would come and find her in the dark in the edge of the flower field. “Kaho… I’ll give you a surprise if you turn around.”

“You’re even taking advantage of what I told you before… Kozue-senpai makes a mean wife.”

“Alright… I guess I’ll throw this special gift I have for you away—”

Kaho turned her head, and blinked. Where was Kozue—

Kozue was crouching before her, looking up at Kaho fondly, one hand outstretched. Kaho stared at her, not blinking.

“We can talk of marriage tomorrow, but for now, is this enough?” Kozue twirled her fingers, as if playing an invisible piano. “May I help you to your bed, Kaho?”

Kaho, whose tongue was possibly either tied or fully disintegrated, nodded mutely. Kozue stood and grasped her hand, holding it gently. They walked to towards her bed slowly, as if the silence was something delicate that could break from too loud footsteps. Kozue sat her on the bed and—

“Just like back then,” she murmured. Did she still remember Kaho’s bad habit of throwing her pyjamas on the nearest possible surface of the bed? It made her eyes feel hot, that she was that mean earlier, that she kept thinking these mean things for someone that somehow still remembered she liked leaving her pyjamas laid out on the furthest corner of her bed.

“Kozue-senpai…” She hiccupped. Kozue kneeled before her. “I’m sorry for earlier…”

“Mhm? What for?”

Kaho stared at her hands in her lap, twirling her thumbs. Kozue always made her feel oddly shy, sometimes, when she’d look at Kaho with wide, innocent eyes. Always ready to hear her out. Never judging her even if Kaho knew she knew of Kaho lying back before she was truly set on staying in Hasunosora. A kind person, she thought, kind and warm and—

“For earlier… You’re… Too nice, Kozue-senpai. Sometimes I—” She swallowed. Her tongue feels heavy, now, which was somehow worse than being unable to form any sentence at all. “I don’t get that. I—”

“Kaho…?”

“Who is your special person?!”

Both blinked. Where had that come from…? That same question seemed reflected in Kozue’s face, who studied her in silence. There was something that she noticed in Kaho’s eyes which made Kozue shake her head with a smile.

“How about I help you get changed first, then we talk about that?”

“Then you’ll leave like you always do,” muttered Kaho. The bitterness in her voice surprised her, and Kozue, whose hands at the bottom of Kaho’s shirt remained frozen. “You’ll give me a nice reply to make me happy then leave me. That isn’t fair, Kozue-senpai. That’s not—”

She hiccupped. Something salty reached her lips. Tears? Must be. Kozue’s face was pained, hands frozen as if not knowing if to reach out or not. Kaho lowered her own head, because she must reach out first, because Kozue needed her to, because Kozue couldn’t ever reach out before Kaho took the first step. Because Kaho could be led to the water but must reach to drink—

Kozue’s hands were cool against her heated face. One of the only times where that happened and Kaho wasn’t sick. She leaned her head against them, nuzzled closer even if her neck hurt. Kozue a wall, Kozue a support—

“Kaho…”

“Shh…” She shook her head. She was tired, now. It’d been a long night. “I was being silly, let’s just… stay here with me. Just for tonight. Let’s be like old time, please.” Kaho opened her eyes to meet Kozue’s; face held between Kozue’s hands. “Please, senpai.”

Kozue, as always, did as told, nodding her head. She helped Kaho change her clothes and laid her down, covered her. She didn’t leave, sat beside Kaho and held her hand over the bedcover.

“Sometimes, I feel lost,” murmured Kaho. Kozue had turned her small lamp, earlier, giving the room a warm glow. Her apartment wasn’t much, but she could look outside from her bed, close enough with the balcony door. It was more than enough. With Kozue there, the apartment felt smaller, Kozue’s shadow so long as if it’d reach the entrance door. “Do you ever, senpai? I… I didn’t have a dream, like you did. I just wanted freedom and to be happy.” She closed her eyes and smiled. “I like my life but… I always felt like that time took something from me. Something that I never got back.”

Kozue simply listened while holding her hand. Kaho wished she’d say something, just as she wished for her to say something back then. Back then—

“Why didn’t you come to me…?”

“Mhm?”

“Back then… Before I returned to Tokyo.” Kozue’s grasp on her hand loosened, and Kaho’s grip tightened. Not now, not when she was so close— “Ginko-chan told me. Don’t blame her, she didn’t… She didn’t know. That I didn’t know. Why?” She shook her hand weakly. “Why, Kozue-senpai?”

“I…” Kozue looked younger then, lost for words, as if Kaho was a bomb that’d explode the moment she said the wrong words. She was only a year older. Surely, she must feel as lost as Kaho felt. “I… You said it yourself I suppose.” Her smile was sad. She felt like sand, again, and this time Kaho was too drunk and too already half asleep to grasp her. “I didn’t want to take from you anymore than I already did. That’s all.”

“What does that mean…?”

Kozue raised her other hand to hold Kaho’s in both of hers. They were warm. “Let’s talk about this another time. Go to sleep now, Kaho. I’ll stay here. I promise.”

Kaho stared at her with the closest thing to begging she could show with her face. “Can you sit closer? You don’t have to lay down, senpai, just… sit here. Beside me.”

Thankfully, no protest escaped Kozue’s lips. She moved with ease, raised the cover to sit beside Kaho. The bed was already small enough, and Kaho’s head leaned against Kozue’s thigh. Even then, she refused to let go of Kozue’s hand. A warm hand, a steady hand. A hand that promised not to leave her. Kaho closed her eyes, her forehead warm against Kozue’s soft thigh.

A hand laid on top of her head. Kaho smiled. Safe. She could rest now.

“Sleep well, Kaho.”

Unfortunately, she was too tired and sleep took her too fast before she could tell Kozue the same.

When she opened her eyes, her bed was empty. She blinked and felt as if something was missing. Kaho hugged her pillow closer before pausing. A floral scent. Ah. Kozue had been here, hadn’t she? And Kaho—

She sat up. Oh god, what had she done—

“Kaho? Are you okay?”

She turned her head. Kozue sat by the kitchen counter, phone in one hand and a glass of orange juice in the other. She was still in last night’s clothes, the sleeves of her dress raised, hair caught in a low ponytail. Kozue was smiling, albeit confused. She was still here. She’d stayed. Despite all Kaho had said—

She groaned loudly, throwing herself back in the bed to bury her head in the pillow and praying it could kill her before embarrassment did.

“Please ignore me…” Her voice is muffled, but judging by Kozue’s laughter, she heard her well enough. “I can’t face you, Kozue-senpai…”

“As much as I can understand your position, it’s quite alright. I have had my fair share of times that being drunk made me feel that way.” A chair screeched, a weight by her bed. When she turned her head, Kozue was smiling peacefully, sitting by her side. “You were drunk, it’s okay. We don’t… we don’t have to talk of anything you don’t want to.”

If she could, she’d rather erase that entire night from Kozue’s memory. Whatever bits she remembered were enough to make her avoid Kozue’s eyes as much as she could. She’d asked her to stay. And all that about marriage—

“Augh…”

Kozue pat her back comfortingly. “I woke up early and got us some breakfast from that pastry shop nearby.”

She raised her head. “Brioche?”

“With cream and a coffee with three sugars.” Kozue tilted her head, inviting. “Want to join me?”

For all it was worth, Kaho saw no reason to deny herself Kozue’s company and attention.