☘︎

“It’s a gift,” Columbina says.

Observing it up close on the palm of your hand, you realize it’s a preserved leaf from a tenebrous mimiflora. 

“How did you…?” You blink in awe, mind blown at how such a rare item came into her possession.

“I noticed that you seemed really interested in them,” she holds up another preserved leaf, identical to yours, down to the fractures in the pattern. “So I got us matching ones, you like it?” 

1. The new girl has nothing and likes nothing. Do you help her?

A. Yes, that's not how we humans should live. B. Yes, I'll take on this burden. C. No, I'll leave her be. D. Nobody should care.

At the young age of 15, you’re a self-conscious, dumb teenager. Public perception is everything to you; you dictate how you talk, walk, and stand with the intention of being approved by your peers. You crave approval like no other, for it is your most prized possession - clutched within your hands, you showed no signs of letting it go anytime soon. 

You like being unique. You love that your tastes differed from those of your classmates. Your teachers praised your way of thinking, and your mother gushed over your sense of fashion, which was developing at a young age. You adore individuality. You go to bed at night in your fluffy pajamas, counting sheep, and cheerfully thinking, 

There’s no one else out there who can be me.

Columbina knocks on your life when she’s assigned to the seat next to you on the first day of class. You noted the peculiarity of her closed eyes but chose to keep your mouth closed, instead opting to focus on the ethereal beauty she possessed. Long, silky obsidian hair with peeking magenta and a pink ribbon carefully holding it in place. Her lashes are long enough to cast a shadow below, her lips set in a perfect straight line. She sits like a poised princess; she probably is.

Not a crack in sight. 

For the first time in your life, you feel incomplete when sitting next to another person. People who surround you always echo that you shone brilliantly, a star with no way of dimming. The high praise is what makes you thrive. 

“Hello, my name is Columbina.” The gorgeous girl sitting next to you suddenly speaks up amidst your feelings of inadequacy, her perfect lips now curving into a small smile. “Columbina Hyposelenia.”

You manage a wobbly smile.

But the girl you are faced with is a moon in a bottle, illuminating her surroundings in a gentle glow of reflected moonlight. She is light and airy, floaty and spacey. Otherworldly. 

“My name is (Y/N) (L/N),” you reach out to shake her hand, soft to the touch. “It’s nice to meet you, Columbina.”

She scoots her chair closer to yours, a bold move that has you blinking in shock. She smiles at you once more - this time, it stretches across her entire face, coloring her cheeks a gentle shade of red. Her eyes are still closed. You wonder if she ever opens them at all. 

“Let’s be friends, (Y/N).”

It’s unfair for you to feel less than just because she exists. Her existence should not be a hindrance to yours, and your mother always told you that jealousy bears no fruit of wisdom. Rather, it’s a parasitic emotion that robs you of your joy. It hinders your ability to live, plaguing you with a warped reality that feeds your insecurities. 

You must crush your petty jealousy asunder. 

“Yeah…! Let’s.”

Believing that Columbina is done with the conversation, you face the blackboard, busying your eyes with the fading streaks of white chalk written in messy, imperfect writing. Doodles litter its surface, too.

Surprisingly, you still feel her attention on you even as the silence stretches on. It feels like this little area is a dead zone compared to the chaos of mingling voices in the background. Your classmates are having fun while there’s still no teacher present, and you’re here, uncharacteristically awkward. 

This won’t do. It’s your task to welcome the new girl. 

Hesitantly, you began, “Uhm, Columbina…”

She perks up, “Yes?”

“What do you do for fun?” 

Her answer is immediate.

“Nothing.”

You frown, “Ah… really? Then what about makeup?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know what that is.”

“How about fashion? Like, dressing yourself up?”

Columbina tilts her head, “Is wearing clothes not dressing up? Hm.”

“Well, no, not really…” You look away, racking your brain for anything else that can connect her to you. “What’s your favorite show? Or movie.”

“I have none.”

“Uh… current crush on anyone?”

“Why would I wish to crush someone? That seems quite brutal to me.” 

You’re close to surrendering with a white flag, “Well… studying?”

She hums, a finger leans up to twirl a strand of her hair. “I find it quite boring.”

Perhaps small trivia questions will yield results instead. “Favorite color? Mine’s pink!”

“Hm… Can I be a color?”

“No, I don’t think so…” You frown, slumping in your seat. 

Is there truly nothing that interests her? The prospect of her living day by day for the last 15 years of her life doing absolutely nothing, bearing no interest or fixation on anything, sends your mind into a state of disbelief. Was she born acting like this, or is it an effect of the way her family raised her? 

Columbina frowns ever so slightly, “I have no family. My sisters died before I was born.”

Being a tad bit insensitive, you ask, “What about your parents or siblings…? What do they like?”

You inhaled sharply, guilt quickly dominating your psyche. “Oh, I’m very sorry, Columbina…”

“Don’t be.” She fishes out a pink pen from her pencil case before doodling on her bare desk. “It’s never bothered me before, after all.”

She’s occupied now; that must mean the conversation is over. Biting your lip, you remain silent. 

Are you a horrible person for bringing that up? You think so. 

At the end of the school day, you fidget in place at the school gates as you watch Columbina patiently waiting for someone (her guardian, perhaps?) beside you. You asked her minutes before if she had a phone so you could talk online, but she said she didn’t have one.

The guilt still hasn’t left you - it only worsens each time you look over to your black-haired companion.

Minutes later, she leaves you with a gentle wave goodbye once she sees a sleek, black car rolling into view. My ride is here, she told you. I’ll see you tomorrow, (Y/N).

Your hands fall to your side, mind made up.

There are some posters in your closet from your favorite magical girl show. You can bring those and show them to her tomorrow. And maybe steal some of your mother’s unused makeup, the spare phone your brother has that she can use, and…

You’ll check once you’re back home.

“Columbina!” You excitedly called out to the girl already sitting. Your bag is heavier than usual today - almost bursting at the seams, affecting your balance. Holding your backpack strap, you repeat, “Columbina!”

She looks up from her doodled desk, smiling at you politely, “Good morning, you’re in a good mood today.”

“Look!” Unceremoniously, you dumped the items all over her desk, cringing at your precarious action caused by excitement. Folded posters, your mother’s eyeshadow palettes and mascara tube, a turned-off phone, merchandise from your favorite franchises, your favorite packaged snacks, and your beloved mirror all form an uneven pile. 

Among the pile, she curiously picks up the mirror, observing her reflection with closed eyes. She looks back on the other items,  “These are…?”

You sat down, “Gifts!” You hold up your Princess Turned Magical Girl to Save Her Love! poster, “This is my favorite show! I love Princess Moon!”

Pointing to the other items, you list them all one by one, “Here, Mom gave me her makeup so I can give it to you. And over there is a phone so we can chat on NodBook and TeyvatGram! I’ll help you create accounts later. Keychains from Star Warriors… Oh, these are my favorite snacks. I’m not sure if you’ll like the flavors, though. And…”

Looking at the mirror Columbina’s holding, you fawn, “That’s the official mirror Princess Moon uses to transform in the show! I begged my mom to buy it for my twelfth birthday, but you can have it instead!” 

She exhales in astonishment, looking down at the array of new goods she now has. “I…”

You sheepishly scratch your cheek, “When you told me you liked nothing, uhm, I got weirded out at first. But then I thought, if I can show you some of the things that make me happy, then maybe you can like them, too.”

Pulling out your phone, you show Columbina a blurry picture of your Princess Moon doll back home. “If you like Princess Moon too, I won’t mind! We can share my doll!”

She looks at the picture in awe. After a few seconds, she looks at you. Her lips wobble in unbridled emotion. 

“These are wonderful gifts.” Her fingers are dearly holding onto the mirror, clutching it close to her chest. “Thank you, I will repay you.”

Shaking your head back and forth, you insist, “You don’t need to! I just want my new friend to be happy, hehe.”

Columbina flashes you a smile that reveals her perfect teeth and highlights her rosy cheeks. Her closed eyes are curved into crescent moons. 

At that moment, all you can think of is why you were so bothered by her possibly outshining you. Two stars, rather - a moon and a star, can co-exist. 

Maybe together, you’ll shine even brighter.

Columbina presents you with a money bill. A small, prideful smile is on her face, “My guardian recently gave this to me. I think I know what I’ll be buying.”

You tilt your head, “What’ll it be?”

“A Moon Princess doll. Specifically, her lover.” 

Gasping, you giddily lean into Columbina, mouth running a mile per minute, “Awesome! You got into Princess Turned Magical Girl to Save Her Love!? I told you it’d be cool! It was, wasn’t it?”

Your friend shakes her head, “Not really. I believe it wasn’t anything special. I like it though.”

You blink, “Huh?” That makes no sense. 

“Well, you like it.” She cradles the money bill to her chest, smiling at you once more. “So I like it, too.”

Eventually, you would exchange your Princess Moon doll with Columbina after you insisted that she suited the character more. Now held in your possession is the doll of Princess Moon’s lover. 

2. Do you love your best friend?

A. I do. B. I don’t. C. I don’t know.  D. I cannot answer definitively.

The first time Columbina slept over at your house happened years into your friendship.

Her guardian, now holding a negative image in your head, didn’t pick her up after the first day of high school. When asked about it, she had told you that her guardian believed it was time she learned how to travel using public transportation. Yet they never bothered to teach her how. Refusing to leave her behind, you insisted that she come over to your home and go to class together the day after. 

“But I’ve never gone to a sleepover before.” She tugs at your sleeve, frowning in uncertainty.

Shrugging, you lean to her side, “Neither have I.”

She pauses and leans on you in return, “...okay, then I’ll sleep over.”

Columbina pulls out her phone, the same one you gave her all those years ago, to message her guardian. 

The car ride home ends in a blink of an eye. 

Carelessly tossing your shoes to the side, you take her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. You shout to your older brother,  “Bina and I’ll go to my room for now! Call us if dinner’s ready!”

Bina is a new nickname, born after you grew tired of repeatedly uttering her full first name again and again. But it’s filled with the same amount of affection regardless of shortened length. Flipping the sign on your door to ‘do not disturb’, you welcome your guest in with a dramatic bow. 

“It’s a bit messy, sorry about that!”

She peeks inside, covering her mouth in amusement. “Pink. It’s very you.”

You smile with pride, looking at your pastel pink-colored walls, the pink highlights, your shelf lined with pink plushies, and your sheer pink bed canopy. While the room is not entirely pink, it’s a clear dominant color.

Your Princess Moon’s lover doll is displayed on one of the shelves. Columbina immediately sees it and hums approvingly. Posters of said show decorate your room’s walls all throughout.

“That’s because it’s the best color,” You pick up your magenta ribbon, “Look, it’s the same shade as your hair.”

She tilts her head to the side, fingers gently trailing over the fabric, “It would appear so.”

Nudging the ribbon closer to Columbina, you ask, “You want it?”

Columbina giggles. She turns around, her long hair flowing behind her. “Yes, please. Tie my hair for me?”

You nod. You begin to bunch up her hair. “Of course!”

You use your facial wash and then pass it for Columbina to use as well. Her bangs are held by your hairclips. You give her your spare toothbrush. She changes into your clothes. 

You ask her which side of your bed she wants to take. Then, you add, “I usually sleep on the left side, but you can sleep on that side instead if you want!”

She nods, already holding one of your fluffy pillows. “Okay, I’ll sleep on the left side.”

Between you and Columbina, you’re often the more talkative one. You lead the conversations and have no problem continuing them. Columbina has no qualms with speaking, but she tends to use short responses and rarely speaks more than one sentence. She can, and you’ve witnessed her ramble; it’s a rare occurrence. 

You’re the talkative one. You are.

You’re awoken sometime in the night from Columbina gently tugging on your sleeve. Your brows furrow, eyes still closed, and croaking out, “Wha- Bina…?”

Opening your right eye, you see Columbina lying on her side. You can’t decipher her expression; it’s obscured by your sleepy eyes and dim lighting. “What’s wrong, Bina?”

She reaches out to hold your hand, then squeezes it. An action that you usually do to her. 

Sensing something is amiss, you try again, “Bina? What’s wrong?”

You rub the sleep off your eyes, blinking several times to steady your vision before fully looking at her. You see her clearly now; for once, her eyes are wide open, yet this is the saddest you’ve seen her look. She looks close to crying. Maybe she already was.

“Bina…?”

She squeezes your hand again. Tentatively, she asks, “(Y/N)... Do you believe we’ll always be friends?”

Her voice has always been quiet, often accompanied by a soft and airy tone. This time, her voice is down to a whisper. 

“Huh?” You’re stupefied, unable to comprehend why she even had this thought. Had she always believed that your friendship stood on borrowed time, that it had an expiration date?

She releases a shaky breath. She looks extremely fragile, as if a gentle gust of wind will be enough to destroy her entirely.

Instead of elaborating, all she says is, “I do not want to lose you, (Y/N).”

Why would she? There are no silly villains from ‘Princess Turned Magical Girl to Save Her Love’ after you. You two are classmates. She sits right next to you. Your other friends don’t impede on your time with Columbina. You saw her today, you’re seeing her right now, and you’ll see her tomorrow, too.

So you question yourself once more: Why would she lose you?

“You won’t lose me, Bina.” You huddle closer, intertwining your fingers together to ground her back to earth. “Never ever.”

Her mind is somewhere far away right now. You lean your head on her shoulder, looking at your bedroom window. Maybe that’s where she is right now: the moon. “Never.” 

She stubbornly shakes her head, convinced by the narrative drawn by her own hands. “You can’t say for certain.”

You frown, “Yes, I can. We’ll always be friends. I told you you resemble Princess Moon a lot, right? We’re like… Princess Moon and her best friend, Princess Star!” You point to your poster, hoping she gets the point you’re making.

“But Princess Star died during the third season, did she not?” Columbina mumbles, staring right at the poster.

“Well. She’s Princess Star, and I’m me. You are you, too. The point still stands: we’ll always be best friends.”

You’re the talkative one, but tonight Columbina reverses the roles. 

“Is that so? Hm. …Even if I do not truly like your favorite show?”

You huff, “Of course! What do you take me for? Immature?”

“Even if… I always bother you?”

“You don’t bother me, Bina.”

She hums, finally returning to her usual floaty, airy self. “Even if I change?”

You nod, snuggling closer to her side. You’re looking at the peeking moon again, tracing crescent moons on Columbina’s skin. “Yes, even if you change.”

Her other hand is raised, “Pinky promise?”

You lock pinkies, “Pinky promise.”

She giggles, head leaning on top of yours. 

Together, you watched the moon until sleep came back to take you in. 

The week after your sleepover, Columbina sleeps over at your house again. The week after that, she visits again. 

Your sleepover increases in frequency to the point where Columbina needs no invitation. It’s muscle memory by now; she walks side by side with you, you wait at the school gates for your father or mother to pick you up, and your items, down to your bra and underwear, are shared with your best friend. 

In your second year of high school, you’ve noticed that Columbina has grown to love pink, too. You noticed it when you saw her new pencil case and pen - they’re both pink, specific shades that are similar to your room’s. Did she buy these items using her allowance?

You laugh in endearment. You influence your best friend greatly, it seems. 

Columbina has always been popular. All eyes are magnetized toward her, yours included - her unique disposition is what caused you to befriend her. However, her popularity never reached a schoolwide level until your third and final year of high school. 

Her already ethereal beauty flourishes. Your other friends talk to you just to know more about her. Instead of shining together like you always had these past years, Columbina has grown to the point where she outshines you. 

A feeling that you believed to be dead comes back in full force. With it, a sense of nostalgia comes: it reminds you of the first time you met Columbina. 

You are becoming jealous. 

It’s much more dreadful this time around, because your influence has merged with Columbina so deeply that whatever you like, she likes too.

You’re not as unique as you think when weighed on a scale against Columbina. 

“I think I’ll pursue art in college… what about you, Bina?”

She tilts her head at you and replies with no delay, “I’ll go for art, too. You said you will be applying to the Fontaine Institute of Arts and Design, yes? Then I’ll apply too.”

You bite your tongue. 

3. Your best friend is beginning to act weird. What do you do?

A. Confront her. B. Get angry at her. C. Ignore it. D. I don’t know. All I know is I love her.

Attending the Fontaine Institute of Arts and Design meant that you would be living abroad and sharing a room with Columbina for more than four years. 

You don’t mind for the most part, more than familiar with her living habits from frequent sleepovers growing up. But with your trickling, growing childish envy for your best friend (seriously, who gets jealous over their best friend liking the same things they like? Why can’t you be happy for her like you’ve always been?), you fear that your sanity won’t hold beyond a year. 

You need space, and so you’ll try to place it down yourself. 

“Looks like we only share two classes this semester.” You try not to let relief seep into your voice as you look over Columbina’s schedule, but admittedly… you’re glad you’re not sharing every single class with her. “Better luck next term, Bina.”

She stays silent, her usually closed eyes are peeled open as she beholds your own printed schedule in her hands. After a while, she speaks with a desperate tinge, “Maybe I can delist and then try again, that way, we…”

You pat her shoulder, “It’s okay! You’ll still see me every day, you know? We’re roommates!”

Columbina frowns, “But… I won’t sit next to you for most of my classes… that’s our tradition, no?”

“Next time, lady luck will hear us and match our schedules, trust me!” You wink at her, giggling once she begins to loosen up. Behind Columbina, you spot the Princess Moon poster hanging on her side of the room. It always gives you a wave of nostalgia: the yellowed paper, slight tear at the edges, and Princess Moon’s face itself beginning to lose color. You’ve had it since you were a child and gave it to Columbina sometime in middle school; most of your merchandise from that series is now in her possession, actually.

Your heart twists in unknown emotion. 

Clearing your throat, you refocus your sight on Columbina. “Let’s order takeout, that schedule war left me drained.”

She purses her lips and takes out her pink phone; a little phone charm jingles in its wake, the same exact accessory as yours. Expectantly, she tilts her head upward - eyes now closed. “Teyvat Fried Chicken?”

“Sure!”

“Sorry, but is someone sitting here?” A short blonde-haired woman politely taps on your shoulder and points at the empty seat on your right. Your text with Columbina is paused as you reply, “No, you can sit here, don’t worry.”

She nods and sighs in relief once settled, “Thanks, I was scared I’d run out of good seats before class starts.” Then she looks you over, “My name is Lumine, by the way. I should’ve said that first, haha…”

You laugh, “Just call me (Y/N)! It’s nice to meet you, Lumine. I actually-”

Your phone beeps from a notification, reminding you of your current conversation online. You must have left Columbina hanging for your reply, no matter how brief it was. “Uhm, hold on…”

Unlocking your phone, you see the latest text Columbina sent you.

Columbina: What do you think? You always wear this brand of mascara. I want to try it too ^^

Columbina: Hello?

Columbina: Your chat speech bubble says you’ve been typing for a long while.

Columbina: Are you preoccupied right now? Hm.

You: Sorry, bina! someone just asked if they could sit next to me ^^

Her reply is akin to lightning - quick and nimble.

Columbina: What did you say?

Columbina: …Did you let them?

You: Yes?

Columbina: Oh. I see.

She doesn’t send another text thereafter. 

Past midnight, you feel the familiar weight of Columbina sinking into your bed. She settles on the left side, as she always has, and wraps her arms around you from behind. You feel the satin fabric from a matching sleepwear set drape over your exposed skin. 

Does she believe you’re asleep?

Her grip tightens. You hear her sigh, and then a soft whisper dripping in desperation, 

“I don’t want to lose you.”

Short, blunt nails attempt to burrow into your skin. 

“I truly don’t.”

You hold your breath.

The last thing you expected to see was Columbina patiently waiting outside your lecture room. You’re in the middle of a conversation with Lumine, stupidly debating about the nature of Aranaras, when you see the familiar combination of magenta and black strands peeking around the corner. You have those colors hardwired into your brain, and you’ll always rightfully associate them with Columbina. You would wave at her, but it seems today is one of her ‘eyes closed’ days. 

Naively, you thought this would be the perfect opportunity to introduce your two friends to each other, just as you’ve done growing up. Hooking your arm around Lumine’s, you stubbornly drag her over to where Columbina waits. 

“Come with me! It’ll be quick so your brother just has to be patient.”

The blonde sends you a questioning glance before making a noise in understanding the moment she spots Columbina a few feet away. “Oh, your roommate, right?”

“And best friend.” You affirm, thinking back to your matching preserved leaves. finally close enough, you tug on Columbina’s sleeve to catch her attention. “We grew up together. Right, Bina?”

Columbina is not surprised by your touch. “Yes.” She points to the other party with eerie precision, “And you must be… Lumine.”

It’s not a question. Lumine laughs in astonishment, “Yeah, I’m surprised you got that right so fast. Oh! as a compliment, of course.”

“Your voice is familiar. I share a class with your twin brother - he always plays your voicemails in full volume even during lecture.”

You spot Lumine’s eye twitching in irritation, “Thanks for the heads up, Columbina… I’ll be sure to give that rascal a piece of my mind.”

“Well it’s good that introductions were quick!” You clear your throat, “Anyways! I’m here to ask you both…. Please, please come with me to Childe’s party this weekend. It’s stupid, but my parents won’t let me unless I bring friends with me…!”

Lumine quirks a brow, “Are you into him?”

Columbina refutes before you can, “Not in a million years.”

You fervently nod in agreement, blowing raspberries at Lumine. “Just ew. He’s like my brother from economics class. Maybe I want to get the full college experience by attending a party!”

You fully detach from Lumine and instead leech on Columbina. “Pleaseee, you have to come to this party with me!”

She frowns, “We can party in our dorm room instead, don’t you think?”

You groan, “It’s not the same! It’s like-”

“-a regular sleepover.” Columbina finishes your sentence, “I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

Pouting, you point to Lumine, “What about her? If we’re going to have a sleepover, then we should invite Lumine and her brother over too. Oh, and Childe!”

“That’s…” Your best friend looks up to stare at your new friend, contemplative. Lumine awkwardly stands around waiting for the final ruling. “Our dorm room is too small.”

“So then let’s attend Childe’s houseparty, problem solved!”

“Or,” Lumine pipes up, “You can just… lie to your parents? It’s fine, Columbina. You can stay in your dorm room, and we’ll take care of your stinky best friend over here, deal?”

“That’s…” Columbina trails off, but you jump up in excitement, excitedly clasping your hands with hers and twirling in circles, all in the middle of a hallway.  “Deal!”

Lumine must have seen the sheer worry on Columbina’s face because she steps forward to add, “She’ll be safe in our hands, don’t worry Columbina.”

Despite looking like she’d rather do anything but agree, she hesitantly nods, “Okay… please take care of her.”

Her slender fingers drag you further into the hall with unnerving speed, not even turning around to address Lumine. “We must be going now. Goodbye.”

Only your voice’s echo remains, “Pick me up tomorrow night, Lumi!”

Finally in the comfort of your dorm room, you instantly melt into your small living room couch, breathing in the familiarity you’ve grown to appreciate. Columbina’s approaching padded footsteps from behind cause you to turn around.

She’s carrying a tea tray with two steaming cups. You sit up, hand already reaching out, expecting. 

She gently places the cup on the palm of your hand. You blow off some steam before asking, “We don’t usually drink tea after lectures. Something special with today or something?”

“I suppose you can say that, yes.” She sits beside you, nursing her own cup. “I’m trying a new blend, you see.”

You gasp in excitement. It’s rare for Columbina to take interest in items that you haven’t already expressed interest in. “Okay, I’ll be a dutiful taste tester, ma’am!”

She giggles, finger reaching up to twirl her hair. “Be sure to drink it tomorrow too, then.”

A bitter taste invades your tongue before a splash of sweetness washes it out. Either way, both tones of flavor are overridden by the scalding temperature. You fear you’re a degree away from burning your tongue.

“Hot, hot, hot!” You briefly pull back to fan the tea using your hand. 

Columbina gently rubs your back, encouraging,  “Drink it as soon as possible, or else all the flavor will dissipate.”

Nodding, you down it all.

A few moments later, you drowsily announce to your best friend;

I feel sleepy now, Bina… 

Lumine failed to pick you up the following day. When asked, she told you that she kept knocking on your dorm room that night, but no one came to answer the door. She left for the party and sent you an apology text for going without you.

However, ‘you’ replied an hour later. A short text that said,

‘Don’t worry about it. :)’

Seeing this text, she tried calling you several times throughout the night, but you never picked up.

The following morning, you come to answer her slew of texts with an equally confusing one.

‘I was asleep all night. I never sent that text, Lumi.’

Her mind immediately gears toward your best friend, but all she said in her defense was;

“I was asleep, too. Hm, it seems that the tea I brewed put us in quite a deep sleep.”