#yuutaru

have this thing i did rly fast bc its been on my mind for days

You’re walking to Junko’s house a little past midday when you decide to send Hotaru your third text of the day. It’s windy, and a little chilly out, so you’ve layered a rose pink scarf on top of your knit – she was the one who gave it to you, two birthdays ago. You don’t really need it in all honesty, because it’s not that cold, but it reminds you of a time where you weren’t scared of losing your long-time crush and best friend. Junko’s promised you that the twins and their parents will be there, and the thought of seeing them again distracts you, a little. Nico is often out of town on tours, or travelling for photoshoots and meet and greets, so you probably know her the least out of all the Muse mothers. You’ve heard ample stories from your parents, though, and she’s been charismatic enough the times you have seen her to stick in your mind. You think perhaps that’s why she’s such a successful idol. You ponder, briefly, if your parents and the rest of Muse could have made it big, like Nico did, had they stayed together. Your life would be different, surely – maybe you wouldn’t see your parents as much. They’d be like Nico, always away on photoshoots and tours and whatnot. You’d be wealthier, probably. You don’t know the details, but you do know that Nico send a significant portion of the money she earns to her mother and siblings. Considering how wealthy their family is, you think that might be quite a lot of money. Maybe you’d have been raised by nannies, then – Kotori-mama would always be busy sewing costumes, and Umi-mama would be busy writing lyrics for their next hit. It’d be hard for them, having to take several months off for your mother’s pregnancy. Then, you think, you might not have been born at all. Your mothers might have had to sacrifice any desires for parenthood as contracts dictated that they simply couldn’t take that much time off. Being an idol wasn’t just a career – it was a lifestyle. You suddenly felt a surge of respect for Nico, for managing her life as she did. She always seemed to be able to make it for the twin’s most important moments, no matter what. You think Nico might be a very, very good parents. Not that your mothers have been any worse – no, your parents are everything you could ever ask for, if a little quirky, and even then, they were a part of Muse. It’s to be expected, you think. Still, you think you’re very glad your parents didn’t decide to keep being idols. By the time you get to Junko’s house it’s 1pm, and Hotaru still hasn’t messaged you back. You’re not expecting anything by this point, but it doesn’t stop the hurt in your chest. “Ah, Yuu-chin!” you hear as you announce your arrival at the front door, and a familiar mop of orange leans around the corner to greet you. “Come in, come in!” You follow her up the stairs into their kitchen – it’s open plan, linked to their dining room and balcony – and find Hanayo, calmly manoeuvring about the kitchen as she presumably prepared dishes for dinner. “Yuuki-chan? It’s lovely to see you,” she says, adjusting settings on the rice cooker. “It’s nice to see you too, Hanayo-san, Rin-san” you say, and the smiles they give you are so warm you can’t help but return them. There’s something to be said about the two of them – Rin is free-spirited and candid, energetic and full of life. Hanayo, on the other hand, is calm, nurturing, and perhaps a little shy – the quietest of all the adults you know. Both of them, though, are genuine and kind. You don’t think you’ve ever seen either of them lie – not that they would have anything to lie about, you think. You wonder how they produced Junko – sure, she has Hanayo’s soft eyes and Rin’s wild hair, but she’s not particularly energetic or shy, nor is she candid or exactly nurturing. She’s almost mysterious, but intense – she says she gets that side of her form Hanayo, but you don’t believe it. Hanayo is so sweet that you could hardly believe her to be overly excited about anything. You understand where Junko got her calmness, though. That at least is clear enough. As you finish with greeting the two of them, Junko pops her head from down the stairs and gestures you to follow. Her parents wave at you as the two of your disappear down the stairs. The bedrooms in their household are on the lower floor, so you presume that’s where Junko is taking you – and sure enough, she leads you right there. It’s messy, clothes tossed aside on the floor and her bed unmade, but for whatever reason that makes you feel a little more at home. “Welcome to my room,” Junko says, and it’s a simple statement, but you feel like you’ve been invited to a little more than that. Bedrooms, you think, speak volumes about one’s character. Yours is neat and tidy to a fault – Umi-mama instilled that habit in you early on – which you suppose reflects on your personality. The mess in Junko’s, you’re sure, says something about her, but you’re not exactly sure what. “Here,” she says, and you realise you’ve spaced out for a few moments as she deposits something small and warm and white and orange into your cupped hands. “This is Hamtaro.” So, you think, this is the hamster she’s told you about. Hamtaro wiggles his nose at you, before itching at his ear. It’s endearing, you think, and creature seems to smile back at you as you kiss it’s forehead. “He’s adorable,” you say, and Junko grins. “If you stroke him like this,” she says, running a finger over the hamster’s tiny head and down its spine, “he’ll be your best friend.” Sure enough, Hamtaro rolls over and exposes his soft belly, and you gently tickle it with the tip of your index finger. He wriggles at your touch, and you swear to yourself that the hamster is laughing. “But,” Junko starts, smiling at you, “you didn’t ask to come over to play with Hamtaro.” You shake your head, because you didn’t even, even if the rodent is much, much cuter than you expected. “It’s okay Hamtaro,” she says, frowning and cooing the creature back into her hands. He runs up her shoulder, resting there. “I still love you.” You’re not sure whether or not to feel offended that Junko doubts your love for Hamtaro. “Sorry,” she says, chuckling softly, “just kidding. You wanted to talk about Hotaru, didn’t you?” Junko’s voice is a miracle in itself – soft and gentle and enveloping, like the warm blankets Kotori-mama brings out when the three of you huddle by the fire for a family movie in the middle of winter. It’s different to how soothing Aoi is – Aoi is reassuring, authoritative, as if you feel protected under her care. Junko’s, you think, makes you feel cared for, as if nothing else but you matters to her in the moment. You swallow, and think you realise why Aoi likes her so much. “Mm,” you reply, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “About yesterday, really. Is –“ You stutter. How unlike yourself. “Is she okay?” Junko hums, gazing lazily at the creature as it runs under her clothes. You try not to think about that too much. “Okay? Well, yesterday she was very upset. You said that it was a misunderstanding, though, didn’t you?” You nod. A misunderstanding is a good way to put it – even if you were the person who gave off all the wrong signals and it’s all your fault Hotaru cried. You bite your lip at the thought of her crying again, and guilt simmers in your stomach. “I froze up when she told me she liked me,” you say, avoiding eye contact. It’s hard enough to be honest with Junko. You don’t need to make it harder for yourself. “It was like I couldn’t move or speak and – to her, that meant rejection.” Junko frowned, raising an eyebrow. “And you’ve texted her, to no response?” she asks, and Hamtaro reappears out of the waistband of Junko’s shorts. “She responded once,” you say. “She told me I was cruel for joking like that.” You’ve read that text a thousand times since last night, and each time you run over the words in your mind it hurts a little more. That only makes you think about it harder. “I see,” Junko says, softening her words even more and closing her eyes, as if in thought. Hamtaro runs up and down her shoulders as she leans back, opening her eyes again. “So, what would you like my advice on?” Everything, you want to say, but that’s not an exactly an answer Junko can help you with, and you know you need to work with her here, so you try and narrow it down into pieces. “How can I convince her that I like her back?” you ask, feeling like that probably sums up the start. Junko bites her lip and frowns, kissing the hamster as it runs up to her shoulders and nuzzles against her cheek. He decides to rest there, in the crook of her neck and collarbone. “Time, probably,” she says, and your heart sinks. You’d wanted to sort this out as soon as possible, because the thought of Hotaru being upset because of you makes you feel worse and worse with each passing moment, and already you want to bury yourself in your bed and never emerge. “You need to make sure you stay friends, first of all. Make things as normal as you can, with student council work and talking at school. Of course, that’s up to Hotaru as well as up to you. I’m sure Aoi told her something along the same lines, though.” You nod, because she makes sense, even if it isn’t the kind of truth you want to hear. You so desperately want a quick fix, an easy solution – but if there’s nothing you can do then…time is yur only option. “Eventually, you’ll get back to normal, and maybe then you can bring it up properly,” Junko continues, and your heart sinks at the mention of eventually. “You have to be forceful, though, when you do finally decide to explain the truth. Hotaru-chan’s stubborn, so you have to corner her somewhere where she can’t escape.” “And you’re sure there’s nothing else I could do to convince her?” you ask – you know this is the best way, probably, but you can’t help but hope. “Well,” Junko says, sitting up and offering you a half-smile. Hamtaro squeaks at the sudden movement, and she strokes him to calm him down. “You could kiss her. She’d probably believe you then.” You’re pretty sure your face turns a little pink at her comment, because Junko giggles, and you instinctively hunch your shoulders. K-kiss her? Impossible. “You know there’s no way I could do that,” you say, trying to keep the hot, hot embarrassment out of you. Junko just appears amused at your efforts. “Absolutely no way.” “Mm,” she says, tilting her head and letting the half-smile widen a little more as she gazes at you – how embarrassing – “But that’s why it’d convince her. You’d have to really mean it to actually go out and kiss her.” You scowl, turning away from her, only to feel tiny claws prickle your shoulder as she places Hamtaro on you. He rubs against your cheek. It’s adorable. “That’s impossible. I – I couldn’t.” “Your loss,” Junko breathes, and tilts her head as the door opens. “That must be the twins.” You nod, and try to breathe the pink away from your face. You’ll wait, you think. Probably. It doesn’t stop your mind from wandering to how kissing Hotaru would feel, though. You attempt to perish the thought. It doesn’t work.

Nico and Maki are a couple you’d never have expected to see together, but when you see them standing side by side, Maki’s hand loosely pulling Nico’s waist closer to yours, it sort of makes sense, a little. Nico’s grown her hair out since her Muse days – she’s kept the twin tails, but they’re waist-length now, and somehow that makes her look a little elegant. The twins seem like the natural product of the two, you think. Somehow, it just works. That’s something you think a lot about their family. They certainly make Junko’s room feel a lot smaller, however, and you didn’t think it was particularly small to begin with – maybe it’s the fact that the headcount inside has doubled, but you think it’s more their massive presence. The two manage to occupy more space than their tiny bodies alone. Junko doesn’t seem bothered, though, because the two are enthralled with Hamtaro. “Junko-senpai, he’s so cute!” Makoto says as she lets him run up her shirt. You recoil in disgust. He’s cute enough to pet and hold, sure, but having him run through your clothes? Gross. Instead of worrying about the hygienic issues of hamsters, though, you let your thoughts wander about your situation. It could make an amusing story to tell, you think, when – if you finally get together. Listening to the story of your parents getting together was adorable – Umi-mama took three months to work up the courage to confess, and even though Kotori-mama knew how Umi-mama felt, she still waited until she was ready, so as not to rush her. Umi-mama had always liked to take such things at her own pace, so your other mother so no need to rush her. Eventually, she’d asked her at practise one day, when they were the last two to leave. Kotori-mama had said yes, and slowly but surely, the two of them began to date and act as lovers. It was a slow, gentle, love story, but you found it endearing “Hey, Junko-chan,” you say, interrupting the hamster cooing. “How did your parents get together?” “Ohh, tell us!” Kamiko says, blowing on the hamster’s ears. Hamtaro chirrups at the sensation. Junko raises an eyebrow, leaning back on her hands. “It wasn’t anything like a confession,” she says, “they started out as best friends, and one day they kissed, without ever talking about it. They don’t have an anniversary, because they never really started dating. It just sort of happened over time.” You could see that, you think – Rin and Hanayo had always been close, and you’ve heard enough of their antics from your parents. “What about your parents, Kamiko-chan, Mako-chan?” you ask, turning your head. The twins look at each other and grin. It takes you a certain degree of self-control not to show your fearful anticipation. “It all began with a turbulent friendship,” Makoto begins, crossing her arms and closing her eyes. “They were always fighting with each other, but they liked each other, really!” “Eventually, their fighting became more like bickering, and then more like worrisome nagging,” Kamiko continues, “they grew closer and closer, and then – “ “On live TV, Nico-mama told Maki-mama she loved her!” the two say, together, as if rehearsed. Then again, knowing the twins, they probably had rehearsed. “Maki-mama got really embarrassed, and ran off-stage,” Makoto says.   “They got together in the end,” Kamiko says. “They just took a little longer.” You blink. “A…live confession?” Makoto grins, and holds up a USB. “How about we just show you?” Junko nods, and there’s a smirk on her face that you can’t quite figure out. She hands over her laptop to the twins, and Makoto loads up a video. Maki and Nico are standing next to each other, as an announcer congratulates them on another performance – probably Zurui Yo Magnetic Today, you think, if it’s just the two of them. Before the curtains close, however, Nico asks for the microphone. “Before we end today, there’s something I’d like to say,” she says, grinning. Maki raises an eyebrow, but says nothing. “Maki-chan,” Nico says, and Maki’s attention snaps immediately to Nico, any pretence of indifference tossed aside. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. You challenge me in places nobody else does, and you’ve shown me kindness in ways I’ve never before known. That’s why there’s something I wanted to tell you today.” Maki’s face is going red, you think, and you can tell even under all the make-up she’s wearing. She knows what’s coming, but she doesn’t say anything. “Maki-chan, I love you more than anyone I’ve ever met.” The video ends as you see Maki dart off-stage, red-faced. You feel sorry for her, a little. You know she’s somewhat of a private person, so of course a public confession was never going to turn out well. “And that’s how it happened!” the twins say together, again. You decide not to debate the logistics of how they kept matching each other word-for-word. Still, you think – that’s about a messed up of a confession as you can get. You stand up, immediately. “I’m just going to ask the adults something quickly, okay? I’ll be right back,” you say, and leave the room before anyone can protest. Up the stairs, the adults are chatting and laughing, wine glasses clinking together as they stand huddled in a circle near the kitchen counter. “Oh? Yuuki-chan?” Maki says, turning around. “Did you need something?” The four of them look upon you with a smile each but – suddenly their gazes are intimidating. You dislike asking personal questions when you don’t know people all that well, but you’ve got to ask anyone who might to be able to help you. “Ah, Maki-san, Nico-san, could I ask you two a question?” you say, and the two of them put down the glasses in their hands. “Of course,” Nico says. You feel like her smile has seen a thousand people do the same. You’re probably massively underestimating that figure, you think. “Then, about your confession, live, when you were younger – “ you say, and watch as the two of them exchange a look of despair. “ – should I stop?” “No, no,” Maki says, shaking her head and rubbing her temples. “The twins showed you that damn USB, didn’t they?” You can only nod, and the two of the groan. Behind them, Rin and Hanayo chuckle. “It’s just like you two to have such mischievous children,” Hanayo says, touching Maki’s shoulder gently. “Isn’t a lively household more fun, though?” Rin asks, leaning against Nico. If she minds it, she doesn’t offer any signs. Instead, Nico frowns presumably at the thought of the twin’s antics. “Maybe if you’re not the one cleaning up,” Nico says, and Junko’s parents laugh again. Maki rolls her eyes, and turns to you again. You feel like you’re witnessing something you shouldn’t. “It’s fine, Yuuki-chan,” she says, offering you a pained smile. “What did you want to know?” “Well,” you say, and you have to think carefully about to word it, “How did you two get together after you ran offstage, Maki-san?” “I told her how much I Nico-Nico-Needed her in my life, and – “ Maki elbows Nico’s side rather aggressively, and rolls her eyes again. “She sent me flowers, and we talked a lot. I was stubborn, I’ll admit, though.” “I had to really try to get to her to listen to me,” Nico says, a little more serious now, “Stubborn doesn’t even begin to describe it.” “Oh, and you’re not stubborn?” Maki says, but there’s a grin on her lips and all of a sudden the interactions between the two of them start to make a lot of sense. “Of course not! Nico-Nii is perfect!” You chuckle and smile as you thank them for answering you, and head back downstairs. From what they said – trying, trying, trying seemed to be the only thing that worked. If nothing else, you had to keep trying. You open your phone, and send her another text. Eventually, eventually, she’ll reply, you think. You just have to keep on trying.

She doesn’t reply. When Monday comes, you’re done and dusted, you tell yourself, you’re not to worry about her anymore, but as soon as you see her in class you can’t adhere to that. She doesn’t greet you that morning, and she doesn’t greet anyone else with any of her usual cheer. Instead, she comes in quietly, sits down quietly, and opens her books quietly. She looks sadder than you’ve ever seen her. You can’t get rid of the feeling inside your stomach that this is your fault. She refuses to make eye-contact with you until third period, where for a single second your eyes meet – but there’s no teasing glint in them anymore. Instead she looks back to her books as quickly as possible, whilst you’re left looking for more. At lunch, she moves away from you, and surrounds herself with the fangirls you’re normally there to drive away. No, this time you’re the one being driven away. You decide to eat your lunch in the council-room. No-one comes by, anyway, so it’s peaceful at least. You pretend to yourself that you don’t feel lonely. She doesn’t talk to you all day, either. Nothing but a small “sorry” when you deliberately knock arms with her on your way past. As you get changed for club, you begin to dread your council work after. You can’t hit a single arrow on the mark. Your accuracy is normally impeccable, and your clubmates begin to worry. You’re sure your mother would be disappointed in you. No matter how hard you try, though, you can’t stop thinking of her, and you can’t focus on the way you’re drawing the bowstring. You’re not sure whether or not it’s a blessing when club ends – on one hand, you can stop embarrassing yourself in front of your juniors, but on the other hand, you have to face her, and there’s no way you can avoid it. You deliberately take your time as you shower and get changed back into your uniform, and you’re sure you take the scenic route back to the council room. For whatever reason, you feel a little more comfortable with the idea of letting her arrive first. What you do not expect is Aoi also being there. Nor do you to see Hotaru’s shirt completely unbuttoned, her hair down and messy against the wall, hands sliding under Aoi’s shirt. Nor do you expect to see the saliva trail between their lips. When they see you, they panic, and pull themselves off each other – and is that reluctance you see in the way they move? “Uh, here’s your hairtie, Hotaru-chan,” Aoi says, adjusting her shirt and darting past you. She’s gone before you can say a word. Hotaru does up the buttons on her shirt as if she’s ashamed to be caught. You feel betrayed. Aoi is your best friend, and you told her so many times how you felt about Hotaru and then – No, of course. You don’t have a claim any more. You ‘rejected’ her. Aoi must think you don’t care anymore. You’re such an idiot. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you say, and you don’t mean to lash out, so you have to quickly adjust yourself. “If you’re going to do that sort of thing, keep it out of the councilroom.” Hotaru just looks at you with dead eyes. “Sorry,” she says, and nothing more. You don’t speak as you pass papers between each other. Instead, you fume over how she – already – moved on. And with Aoi? You can’t believe it. Aoi’s your best friend, she’s in love with Junko…right? Right? Your stomach starts to ache as you think about it – what if they both moved on, without you? What if they’ve started dating? It’s none of your business, you try to tell yourself, but it just can’t be true. They can’t date – Aoi’s your best friend. She would have told you, right? And Hotaru – ? You don’t think you have any right to assume how Hotaru might act right now. She doesn’t say goodbye when the two of you leave the councilroom, and you can’t bring yourself to say it either. You walk in opposite directions to the shoe bay, and you figure she’s going to wait for you to go before she heads home. You leave first. It’s lonely walking home by yourself. When you see Aoi the next day, she demonstrates an impressive ability to provide very little in the vein of answers. “Aoi, what the hell was that, yesterday?” you say, unsure how to feel. “Uh,” she says, scratching her head. “Nothing really. Just a platonic thing – we both kind of felt like it, because Hotaru was feeling sort of crappy after what happened on Friday, and I’m kind of bummed about the Junko situation. Did she say anything to you at council?” You shake your head, and say, “Not a word. I got two ‘sorry’s, and that was it all day.” “Ah,” Aoi says, stretching out her arms, “I’m sure things will improve. It won’t be like this forever.” She’s right, after all. That same day, Hotaru greets you with a cautious ‘hey’ as you enter the classroom. It feels only right to respond in kind as you take your seat. Just like Junko said, you think. Time will fix things.

You don’t think you have the patience for time when you walk into the councilroom, and catch Aoi and Junko in a state of undress in the councilroom later that day. There’s a hickey on Aoi’s collarbone that you definitely didn’t want to see, and Hotaru’s in the process of making another when you rip them apart. You’re not allowed to be angry at them, you tell yourself. They have every right to do what they’re doing. Just not in the councilroom, you tell yourself. That’s the reason you’re cross with them, and that’s the reason you act snippy whenever you see either of them. You’re not angry, you’re just – You’re so, so jealous, and you hate it. It hurts. Aoi becomes evasive whenever you bring up the topic again, and eventually you decide to stop bringing it up at all. You can’t look her in the face, not when all you can think of is what it might have felt like to have Hotaru’s lips on hers. She probably notices your jealousy, you think. Aoi’s been your best friend since you were a toddler – she knows more about you than anyone else in the world. Your thoughts are confirmed when she confronts you about it. “We’re not dating,” she says to you on the way home that day. “you know that, right?” You nod, biting your lip. Aoi said as much earlier, so of course you’d believe her – probably. Maybe. It’d be easier to believe if you couldn’t see the hickey on her neck. “I know,” you say, and you hate the way your voice scratches as you speak. You’re not jealous, you remind yourself. You’re not angry. You’re just fine. Aoi doesn’t believe you either, from the look in her eyes. It’s not exactly pity, nor exactly empathy, but it’s somewhere in between the two. She stares at you for a moment, tracing your expression. You’re pretty sure whatever poker face you’re trying to pull isn’t working. “I’ll stop if you want me to,” she says, turning her stare to the ground in front of her. You shake her head immediately, instinctively, because no, no, that’s not what you meant at all – right? “No, of course not,” you say, and you’re sure she knows you’re lying through your teeth. “I don’t mind at all.” Aoi doesn’t look at you like a liar – she just holds that same expression, and you think it might be easier if she’d just call you out on your bullshit. By the time it gets to Wednesday, when you final both to look at her face, it’s not sadness, but apathy in Hotaru’s eyes. You’re not sure which is worse. You’re sure she catches the way you look at the two of them whenever you see them liplocked around school, but you have no idea what she’s thinking. You can’t read her anymore. It seems like you’re magnetised towards them, because you find them no matter where you go. No matter what you say, they never listen about making out in the council room. It’s as if Hotaru is trying to make you jealous. Perhaps she is, you think. It’s working far, far too well. You want to be where Aoi is, sitting on the receiving end of those lips so, so, so badly. You’ve pined on your own for so long, so why, when your wildest dreams finally come to fruition can’t you be honest about how you feel? You start to wonder if Hotaru knows you’re jealous. The way she looks at you when you walk on them changes from embarrassment to something unreadable. The surprise in her eyes could be something else entirely. Maybe you’re overthinking it. You probably are. Even, still. On the Friday when you get home, you’re about done with it. Junko was wrong. Time hasn’t done anything for you, you think. All waiting has done is make you hurt more as you think again and again of Aoi on those lips that should belong to you, and – Why can’t she see how much she’s hurting you? Why can’t she see how every kiss makes you want to rip open your chest and bare your beating heart? Why can’t she tell how much you ruminate over every time you see them together? Why does she look at you like she’s unimpressed every time you catch them? …does she want to hurt you the same way you hurt her? If she does, you think, then she’s doing a fantastic job. You bring a hand to your eye – when did you start crying? This wasn’t part of the plan but – You heave out a sob, because it’s so, so unfair what she’s doing to you – except didn’t you just do the exact thing to her? Wouldn’t that make it just and fair? But it hurts so, so much, you have to gasp out in pain. You didn’t want to upset her, you never, ever wanted to hurt her, not once and now – She hates you, doesn’t she? That’d explain it. She hates you now, and that’s why she’s trying to hurt you as much as possible. She’s picking spaces she knows you’ll find them in. She wants to scratch out your heart with her fingernails and squeeze it dry of all the love it ever felt for her, to punish you for hurting her the way you did. You open your box of precious things, and take out the photo inside. Fine, you think. You tear the photo in two. You cry over how the two pieces will never fit back together how they used.

Over the weekend, you talk to Junko on the phone. “It’s not working,” you say, your voice bitter. Bitter is a good way to describe yourself, you think. It reminds you of the scalding green tea your mother makes. You think the comparison is somewhat apt. “Yuuki-chan,” she says, and her voice is all marshmallows and hot chocolate with three spoons of sugar – too sweet. She sounds almost sarcastic, but you’ve never heard Junko, of all people, employ sarcasm. “Time doesn’t mean a few days. It means weeks, months.” It’s not fast enough. “There has to be something I can do, Junko-chan,” you say, and you don’t even bother to hide the desperation in your voice this time. “I can’t deal with them anymore. They’re everywhere.” You can hear her exhale at the mention of Aoi and Hotaru together. You wonder how she feels about it, but you don’t think you have it in you to ask right now. “You could try cornering her and forcing her to listen,” she says, although the tone of her voice is wavering. She doesn’t believe it’ll achieve anything. You don’t care. You have to do something, you can’t just keep sitting around, hoping for Hotaru to come to her senses. “Okay,” you breathe. “On Monday, in the councilroom. I’ll tell her, properly.” “….good luck,” she says, and you know she means it. You’ll need all the luck you can get, probably. Her doubt doesn’t sway you, though. You’ve had enough.

You’re back to small-talk on Monday morning. Hotaru, at least, seems a little bit glad to see you, even if it’s fleeting in her eyes as she looks away. She looks like she’s done something wrong. She hasn’t, you remind yourself. It takes all of your concentration and resolve to force a smile. Your classes are less grating than the week before, just slightly. The fact that Hotaru isn’t looking at you like you crushed her helps. You still feel a stab on guilt in your stomach whenever you think about it. You’ll make it right today, you assure yourself. You have to. At club, every single one of your arrows hits the bullseye, and your captain praises you on your concentration. There’s determination in your eyes, she says, but all you feel is a fire in your belly. You suppose that’s a good thing. It feels nice to be outed by your captain, a little. Your mother would be proud, you think, and that in itself in something to be proud of. They’re there in the councilroom, again, when you open the door. “Woah, Hotaru-chan, where did you learn that?” comes Aoi’s breathless voice. You stand there in the doorway, waiting for them to notice, but they’re so wrapped up in their own little world that you think they won’t. You watch as Hotaru smirks, of all things, before replying, “I just wanted to try something.” Her voice is laced with nervousness, and you can see it in the way she pulls Aoi closer to her as she leans in again and – You don’t need to see this. You clear your throat, and the two of them jump ten feet in the air. Aoi waves at you and hurries outside, her face painted scarlet. Hotaru wipes saliva from her lips and stares at you as if she’s expecting something. It’s time, you think. So you begin. “Hotaru-chan, can I speak honestly with you?” you start, and you hate how your voice isn’t quite as authoritative as you’d like it to be. You’re still meek in all the wrong places, but you can’t let yourself back down now. You don’t think you could forgive yourself if you did. “If it’s about Aoi-chan,” Hotaru says, avoiding eye contact as she takes a seat in her usual spot. You stand at the desk, opposite her, watching. “I don’t want to hear it. Pretending like you care doesn’t make me feel any better, you know.” She frowns, and looks to the ground. You’ve never heard her be so dismissive of you before – you’ve never heard her act like she cares so little for you before. She’s acting like the two of you aren’t even friends, like you mean nothing to each other. She’s effectively throwing away all the memories the two of you’ve shared together – just like you did when you ripped up that photograph. You hate yourself for that, just a little. You don’t hate Hotaru. You just get mad. “I’m not pretending at all!” you say, your voice suddenly a lot louder as you slam your palms on the desk between you. “I care a lot, Hotaru-chan. I told you so many times, I like you back. I really do.” The words lips out so easily, but all you can do is grit your teeth at the blank expression on Hotaru’s face. You want her to listen to you so, so bad, but – “Can you stop this?” she says, snarling, and for the first time you see genuine anger in her eyes. “I told you, it’s not funny. Stop making how I feel into some joke you can laugh at.” You want to scream, because she’s so dense, she just doesn’t get it, and you wish, you wish that you could just get through to her, so she knows, so she understands how you feel. “I’m not lying to you!” and your voice is practically screaming now as you learn further over the desk, towering over Hotaru as if you could maybe, just maybe scare enough sense into her to make her listen to you just this once. “I’m being serious! Hotaru-chan, I like you!” You’re leaning even further forwards over her, and the word keep spilling out of your mouth. “I don’t get why you keep doubting me!” you say, scowling, “Why the hell would I lie to you, one of my best friends, about something like this? I told you, I froze up. I was so shocked and so happy that I couldn’t respond, and you’re the one who took it as rejection!” Your face is so close to hers, and you think that maybe if you yell at her face long enough, something will get through. “You don’t think that finding out the girl I’ve been crushing on for almost two years now feels the same way about me would make me happy? Would shock me? Do you really think I’d say no? Can you really, honestly, say that?” You feel her breath on your face. “I texted you so many times, but you refused to text back! Why can’t you just get it through your thick skull, that I, Yuuki Minami, like you, Hotaru Aya – “ You feel your lips brush against something soft and warm. It takes you a moment to register that the soft and warm belongs to Hotaru. You kissed her. Immediately, you spring back, because oh no, oh no no no you can’t have just done that – you’re not even dating, how inappropriate, how are you going to face your parents after this? What if Hotaru didn’t like it, what if she’s already moved on from you? What if you’re an awful kisser, what if – The look on her face stops you right in your tracks. She’s shocked, just like, you, and there’s a strip of red spreading right across her cheeks. “Do,” you stutter – how uncharacteristic of you, “do you believe me now?” The hotness in your cheeks is warm enough to burn, and you think you might melt in embarrassment, but your heart bursts in flames when you catch her nodding. Neither of the two of you say anything after that. Eventually, you move on with your councilwork, in dead, awful, awkward silence. You still can’t bring yourself to say anything when the two of you finish for the day. The walk is equally awkward, and equally void of chatter. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Hotaru this quiet. Every now and then, you steal a glance, and let your face bloom a brilliant scarlet when your eyes inevitably meet. You don’t want to admit you’re looking at her. It’s just so embarrassing. You decide not to tell your parents just yet. You don’t think you’re ready for Umi-mama to fight the girl you like.

When you both arrive at school the next day, it becomes blatantly clear to you that you haven’t thought this far ahead. It’s exactly like before, except instead of looking at you sadly, she looks at you as if you’ll disappear. You wonder if she thinks that might happen. When the two of you bump shoulders in the hall, you both apologise, and you blush so hard you think you might be able to light a dark room. Today, at least, when you’re working together in the councilroom, it’s not completely quiet. “I’m almost finished with this pile,” she says after a while, and you can’t help but notice how wispy her voice goes when she’s embarrassed. You nod. “That’s good,” you say, “if you can sort them too, then…” You can’t bring yourself to finish any of your sentences strongly. Instead, you’re too caught up in the nervous way she chews on her pens, biting down hard on them every time she steals a glance at you. You only catch half of them, but eventually you think you can guess when she’s staring at you. The sound of her pen scribbling across the page changes, ever so slightly. She’s efficient with her work, however, and she’s beating you, today. Not that anyone could blame you, you think, probably. It’s not your fault your vice-president makes you blush like a magnolia in May. You’re grateful when the song on her phone changes, because it drags you out of your bubble of admiration just long enough to snap out of it. God bless, you think, for her suggestion of listening to music whilst you work. You think you’ve finally buried yourself in your work for the first time that day, and maybe you’ll be able to get some work done when she speaks up. “Uh, hey,” she says, looking off to the side and itching at her neck. “Hey,” you say, coolly, because just like that your focus on your work is gone and all you can think about is her gorgeous, gorgeous collarbone. “Do you,” she stammers over her words, and you think that’s just like her, “Do you want to hold hands?” If she’s trying to win an award for making you blush the most, you think, then she is definitely, definitely winning. “Okay,” you say, and as it’s as if you exhale the word itself, and swallow. Hotaru looks to the side, and takes your left hand in her right. Her hand is a little sweaty, but it’s warm, and as your fingers interlace, you find that you don’t really mind. You don’t miss the smile that creeps to her lips, either. It makes you smile a little bit yourself to see her look happy for the first time in over a week. You walk home together like that, hands together, fingers locked. She waves at you with the shyest of smiles on her face when you finally unwind your fingers and separate. She’s adorable, you think. As the week passes, you start to talk a little more each day. Hotaru cracks a joke in class, and when you laugh, the way her face lights up reminds you of everything good in the world. You greet each other in the morning with a shy smile apiece, and you say farewell in the evening with just the tiniest tinge of sadness in your expressions. It’s embarrassing, you think, but she makes you happy enough that you don’t think you really mind all that much. Aoi’s talking to you again, too, and whenever you tell her about something cute Hotaru did that day, she laughs and smile and ruffles your hair just like she used to. Sometimes there’s a tinge of awkwardness when it comes up that she used to make out with Hotaru, and even though it’s only been a couple of days it feels like worlds away. You’re just glad to finally have your best friend back. You missed her. On Friday, the two of you don’t have club, so you head straight to the councilroom. The work is easy, you think, and the music that’s playing is fast-paced, perfect for working through the papers with a little energy. It’s not all the same – Hotaru never did enjoy themes in her playlists – so the tempo wavers a lot. Every now and then, you hear a Muse song come on. Hotaru swears black and blue that she didn’t put them on there, but for some reason, she knows every line, so you maybe you don’t quite believe her. It’s getting late by the time you two finish, and you yawn, stretch out your limbs, and gaze at the girl next to you. Your girlfriend, you think. You haven’t said it out loud yet, but eventually, you will. She smiles back at you when she catches your gaze, and it sends you hastily looking in the other direction. Thankfully, the song changes. It’s a distraction, you think, as you’re putting your things into your bag, but oh – you know this song. Moshimo Kara Kitto, you think. A solo song Hotaru’s mother sung, back when they were younger. “Hey,” Hotaru says, suddenly, and it almost catches you off-guard, because the two of you have hardly spoken words to each other today – maybe you’ve communicated in hand squeezes and red-faced grins, but words seem a little far-fetched. “Do you know how to slow-dance?” she says, and stands, offering you her hand to take. You stare at her – golden hair slightly messy, half-up half-down in that curious hairstyle of hers, an awkward smile spread across her face – just briefly, before shaking your head, and placing your hand in hers. You’ve never really danced before – Aoi told you about the dancing lessons she took with Junko, but you’ve never really had the drive. You like to think you’d be naturally good at it, considering your mother heads a traditional Japanese dance dojo, but you think that might just be wishful thinking on your part. You almost can’t meet Hotaru’s eyes as you stand with her, and she wraps her arms around your waist. You place a hand on her shoulder, and she takes your other hand in hers. “Let me show you,” she says, and her voice is all kinds of illegal gentleness that you didn’t think you’d ever hear from her. “It’s so easy, even I can do it.” You can only nod, because you’ve never done something like this before, but soon you get the hang of it, and the two of you are swaying from side-to-side, together. Hotaru takes the lead, and for once, you let her. I'm sure We are destined to meet, and even if we will be separated The feeling that today will surely be bright still overflows When you get to the chorus, you prompt her to twirl you, taking the lead in your own way, and Hotaru’s face reddens a little more. You’re spinning in circles around the room, swaying and dancing from here, to there, laughing and spinning and – Hotaru slows you, to your surprise, until you’re barely moving, just swaying gently from side-to-side. While bringing up the fragments of all your dreams I found myself, at some point, growing just as passionate Within the smiles of everyone She meets your eyes for the first time since the song started, and swallows. “Can I kiss you?” she asks, and you flush bright scarlet. You close your eyes, dipping your head as you try to prepare yourself. And then my dream gave everyone wings Among everyone's many smiles I will forever treasure these feelings I want to embrace them, I want to hold them dear Then, you reach up, cup her face in your hands and press your lips to hers. It’s a little chilly, and you can feel it on her lips, but the second kiss is a little less cold, and the third is even warm. The song ends, and you breathe, laughing softly as hers tickles your nose, but you stay with your arms wrapped around each other. You think you could stay like that for a while longer. After all, you think as you press your lips to hers a fourth time, it’s cold.

You’ve always prided yourself on being prepared for everything. Your campaign as student council president was a matter of being prepared enough to have an answer for every single question thrown your way – something that you managed, somehow. Dealing with people like Hotaru, Kamiko and Makoto on a regular basis is a mission, but you always manage to pull through. You’re always thinking, and because of that, you’re almost always ready for whatever bullshit is thrown at you – whether it be the twin’s water balloons, or Hotaru’s latest modelling shots. The one thing you’ve never prepared yourself for, however, is the reciprocation of your crush on your best friend. “Yuuki-chan, I like you.” And it’s just like that that Hotaru is able to shatter all your pretences of control and stability, and bring your entire world – with your façade of indifference with it – crashing to the ground. You’re stuck, paralyzed because you never, ever thought you’d hear those word pass from her lips, ever. Hotaru liked Hana, you knew – you’d heard her gush and gush all through middle school and Hotaru never, ever changed – and surely if she had changed then you would have noticed, because you have hardly spend a moment away from her side, considering you’re in the same class, your clubs practise right beside each other, plus you’re both on the student council, so – why? Why didn’t you notice, why didn’t you consider the possibility because here she is, standing before you with a scarlet face and twitching demeanour, and if you don’t say something she might run away and cry. You’re just – you’re just not prepared for this. You swallow, and try to speak, but you can’t summon any words to your tongue, and you end up opening and closing your mouth pointlessly. Your mouth feels dry, and there’s a shivering in your spine that you just can’t ignore. There’s no point – your throat is all gummed up, and no matter how much you struggle, you can’t do anything other than stand there, gape, and wait as the heat in your face rises endlessly. Hotaru looks panicked, and you think you have to speak, if only for her sake, you have to say something, even if all you think you could say if you could speak is gibberish. “I…” you finally stammer out, and you almost flinch at the way she’s hanging onto your solitary word, like you’re waving candy in front of a child face. You’re still not sure if you can say anything else, though, because your throat feels like you’ve swallowed bubble-gum, and your mouth feels like the Sahara.  Hotaru looks more and more worried, and you start to panic too – what if you just freeze her, and she gets the wrong idea? Surely – surely she wouldn’t jump to conclusions? Except it’s a lie, you’re her best friend and you know she would. Anxiety burbles in your stomach as you struggle to force words out, and – “Hotaru, I didn’t – “ It’s not a complete sentence but it’s something, and you think that might have helped, but you realise it’s the wrong thing to say when Hotaru looks at you with solemn acceptance in your eyes. No, you think, wait, you think, stop you think, but you don’t voice anything at all. You can’t. “…oh. I get it. I’m sorry. Please forget this ever happened,” she says, and you want to scream at her no, no, no, you want to tell her that she’s got it all wrong, but you can’t bring yourself to think beyond the fact that she just confessed to you, she just told you she liked you and – The look on her face makes you want to cry as she rushes past you. You reach out and grab her wrist, but she shakes you off, and she doesn’t look back as you call her name like it’s the only name you’ve ever known – and in the moment, it may as well be, because all you can think about is the stray tear you saw falling down her cheek, and the sheer, utter hurt in her voice as she accept you didn’t like her back. But it wasn’t true, it really wasn’t, you just – you just couldn’t find the words to tell her. As you’re left alone in the councilroom, you think you’ve just made the biggest mistake of your life.

Your walk home is unusually slow, unusually cold, and unusually quiet. You’re alone, for the first time – Aoi and Junko had already left by the time you’d gotten to the gym, the twins live in the opposite direction, and Hotaru is – well.

5:03pm Yuuki: hotaru?? i’m really worried about you, text me back No new messages.

All you can think about is the fact that you’ve unintentionally broken the heart of one of your best friends. You can’t get over the way her voice wavered as she spoke out of the way, or the way she looked when you finally managed to speak. Nor can you stop thinking about the fact that you made her – Hotaru, star of the Otonokizaka softball team, renowned model, Otonokizaka student council vice-president, Hotaru Ayase – cry and run away. Nor can you remove the picture of her back as she walked away from you from your mind. When you open the door to your house, you rush immediately to your room without even greeting your mother. Kotori-mama looks at you with concern, but you know she won’t chase after you immediately. She’s always known how to give you space. Umi-mama might have, but Kotori-mama probably would have stopped her. She’ll come up later, though, when you’ve sorted out how you feel a little more and you’re able to put it into words. When you finally get up the stairs to your room, you dump your schoolbag at the foot of your bed, and flop onto the duvet. The only thing you can think to do is ask Aoi for advice, because she’s always been the one who’s helped you when you were struggling. You’re best friends, after all.

5:24pm Yuuki: um aoi-chan you won’t believe what just happened to me. hotaru-chan kind of said she liked me!! 5:27pm Aoi: oh man okay um like i have her here with me right now. what did you do? she’s not in a good state man.

Your heart sinks at the thought of Hotaru being upset because of you. You’d hoped maybe, somewhere deep inside your heart that she’d cry a little a be over it within minutes, and that once the weekend was over you could somehow find the words to tell her you liked her too and then –

5:27pm Yuuki: i froze up. i couldn’t speak, and she took my silence as a rejection and now she’s not responding to my texts! what do i do? is she okay? 5:34pm Aoi: look man i have to go, hotaru-chan rlly needs to be looked after. sorry yuuki-chan but she needs me more rn.

‘Sorry Yuuki-chan, but she needs me more right now.’ Those words hurt more than anything – not only because your best friend, Aoi, is turning your back on you, but because you’re the reason why she’s doing so. It really, really stings. In a way, you’re sort of glad they’re together, because at least Aoi can comfort Hotaru, right? Except she shouldn’t need comforting at all, you think. You should have been able to speak, you should have said yes and then you wouldn’t be in this mess at all. You shouldn’t be. It’s not fair to put her through all this. You can just text her, you suddenly think – surely if you text her and explain things, she’ll feel a lot better, right?

5:45pm Yuuki: hotaru. i like you too. i couldn’t say it in the clubroom but i like you. 5:46pm Hotaru: Funny joke, Yuuki. Real funny. I thought you’d be better than rubbing it in. Whatever. 5:47pm Yuuki: i’m not kidding! hotaru I really like you! No new messages.

You want to cry when you receive her text. Even if you do try and explain things, she doesn’t believe you or she won’t listen so – how are you supposed to fix things now? How can you fix things with someone who doesn’t want to? You bury your head in your hands. It’s not fair. You’ve liked her for well over a year now, and you’d spent so much time hiding it that now you can’t un-hide it. You’d just never – never ever ever – expected Hotaru to reciprocate. Hotaru was adventurous and kind and always happy to help anyone who needed her, and you were just – you. She had model-level looks, and you couldn’t even get anyone to ask to dance with you at last year’s Cultural Festival. It’d been a joint effort with the local boy’s high school, and you figured one of them had to look your way, but – no. Hotaru had been approached by a swarm of them, but she’d turned them all down in favour of dancing with you. You guess you knew why, now. You reach under your bed, and pull out your shoebox of precious things. It’s old and tattered now, but it’s still staying together, and inside it you keep everything that means the most to you. There’s a photo of your mothers on the day you were born, a letter from your favourite childhood author, a scrunchie Aoi gave you on your first day of middle school, among other things. But what you pick up is a dusty photograph, taken the Halloween of your first year in high school. It looks similar to your favourite photo from your parent’s wedding – the one where Kotori-mama is posing with puckered lips, holding Umi-mama close to her with a arm around her neck and the other hand gripping her fiance’s wrist. Umi-mama, on the other hand, is blushing and looking away, in typical Umi-mama fashion. Even so, Kotori-mama still looks like she’s having fun. The photo in your treasure box is similar, but instead of your parents in bridal outfits, it’s you and Hotaru. You’d decided to go together as zombie brides the year, but before applying your undead make-up, you’d insisted on taking the photo – you taking Kotori-mama’s place, and Hotaru taking Umi-mama’s. She’d resisted at first, but eventually you convinced her to come around. You’d gotten a copy each, and the photo was one of your most precious possessions. Hotaru was one of your most precious friends, and whenever the two of you fell out – which, knowing Hotaru in her first year, was common – you’d take the photo out and look at it, to remind yourself how much you meant to each other. For whatever reason, it wasn’t working today. You sigh.

6:13pm Yuuki: junko, can you help me? it’s about what happened with me and hotaru-chan 6:25pm Junko: I’d be happy to, but I’m a little busy right now. Nico-san, Maki-san and the twins are coming over tomorrow for dinner though, so you’re welcome to join them. You can even play with Hamtaro!! 6:26pm Yuuki: okay. thank you. im sorry I just don’t know what to do. 6:32pm Junko: That’s okay!! We all make mistakes, but you obviously want to fix yours. It’ll work out, I promise. Got to go, bye!! :3

Whilst Junko’s words make you feel a little bit better, another look at the photo sends your heart crashing to the floor. There’s a knock on your door, and Kotori-mama pokes her head through the door. “Can I come in?” she asks, and you nod, patting the floor beside you. She has two mugs of hot chocolate with her – yours and her favourite. “Hey,” you say, and it’s simple, but Kotori-mama snuggles up right next to you, offering you a mug. “Hey,” she says in response, and it’s enough to make you smile. Somehow, your mother is able to do that without even trying. “What happened? It’s not like you to be so upset after school.” You take a sip from your hot chocolate and stare at the space on the floor between your feet. “Hotaru-chan told me she liked me,” you say, and your mother’s eyes widen, “and I couldn’t answer her properly. I froze up, and she took it as a rejection.” You bring your knees up to your chin, and bury your face in your arms, because thinking about it hurts, and you start to want to cry a little. “Now she thinks I don’t like her back, and she won’t answer my texts or anything.” “Oh, honey,” your mother says, rubbing your back in circles that soothing way she always does when you’re sick or sad. She’s known for a while now about your crush – both of your parents have. Though Umi-mama initially was mad at Hotaru, a little gentle convincing from the both of you ensured the girl’s safety. Thankfully, they haven’t teased your or anything over it. You don’t think you could take it if they ever did. “It’s tough when you mess up, and a friend won’t listen,” Kotori-mama says, and her voice is soft and comforting. You want to snuggle into it, and make a point of shuffling closer. “Honoka-chan was like that at first when Umi and I told her we were dating, but with a little persistence, we got through to her, and we’re as close as ever.” It’s true – your parents are exceedingly close to Honoka, and it’s part of the reason you and Aoi ended up as best friends. Still you wonder if mere persistence is enough to heal the damage of a broken heart. Your mother must have seen your face, because she takes you in a gentle embrace. You return it willingly, appreciating the gesture, even if you still don’t feel a hundred percent okay with what went down – still, your mother has a point. If you don’t try again, you’ll never, ever get through. Eventually, your mother leaves you be with your hot chocolate, and tells you dinner will be in half an hour, and that Umi-mama will be home at around the same time. She always works late on Fridays – unfortunately shift timing, you think, but it’s only for this trimester. Once it’s over, she’ll have a new batch of classes to teach, at different times. You think you’ll like having your mother around more in the evening. No matter the distraction, however, you can’t stop thinking about Hotaru.

With those few words, you put all of yourself on the line. Everything you’ve felt up until this point, all that sexually-charged banter you’ve exchanged, all the heady glances and weighted stares – you’re ready to answer it. And so, you take a deep breath, count to three, and let the words come spilling out. “Yuuki-chan, I like you.” You’re not sure what you’re expecting as a response – you’d never really thought this far ahead. Maybe a begrudging yes, or an apologetic no. What you definitely didn’t expect was – nothing. Yuuki stands there, her mouth just slightly agape, staring straight at you. You wait, counting the seconds – one, two, five, ten, twenty. Her face turns slightly red, and you pretend to yourself that the butterflies in your stomach aren’t there. But they are. You inhale, and exhale, watching Yuuki’s face for any sign of – anything. Your heart begins to sink as the seconds tick by because – what if she…? You bite your lip as your chest begins to ache. “I…” Yuuki finally says, opening her mouth and closing it several times before she even makes a sound. “Hotaru, I didn’t…” The sounds stop there, and Yuuki goes silent again. You’ve heard enough. You bite your lip harder, feeling your eyes begin to moisten as you realise what’s happened. She’s rejected you. She doesn’t like you back. This was a mistake. “…oh,” you say, softly, and you can hear the way your voice wavers. “I get it. I’m sorry. Please just forget this ever happened.” You think you’ve just made the biggest mistake of your life, and god, it hurts. You think you forget to breathe as you barge out of the room. Yuuki grabs your wrist, suddenly coming alive and calling your name but you shake her off, and leave. When you put a palm to your eyes, it comes back wet. You’re crying, and you’ve got no-one to blame but yourself for being so stupid. As if Yuuki would like you back. What a joke. Yuuki’s far, far too perfect to ever considering dating someone like you. She’s perfectly poised in all the right places, and you’re easily distracted, clumsy and clueless. Your grades are average, and it’s not like being good at softball is anything special. Not like Yuuki’s talent for archery. You’re a mess, and she’s ethereal. Of course she wouldn’t like you back. You hate yourself for being so big a fool as to even consider the possibility that she might like you back. When you stop to look around and figure out where you’ve actually walked, it’s been five minutes, and you’re near the showers. Aoi might be here, you think, so you stop and wait. You wipe your eyes again and again until they’re red and they hurt too, but you think maybe that doesn’t matter, because they don’t hurt nearly as much as your heart does. People give you concerned looks as they pass you by, but you brush off all of their offers of help. Aoi emerges from the shower block with Junko, but as soon as she sees you, she wraps you in a warm embrace, and Junko takes the other side, leaving you sandwiched between them. You bury your face in Aoi’s chest, and she strokes your hair, whilst Junko whispers comforting words into your ear. “Guess things didn’t work out, huh?” Aoi says after a few moments, and you nod, wiping your eyes again. Junko pets your head. “Come to my house again. You need it.” You can only nod, because she’s not wrong. As you leave the school grounds, the two of them walk on either side of you, brushing against your shoulders with every step. You appreciate the gesture more than you can say. “You’re brave, Hotaru-chan,” Junko says to you, “It takes so much courage to tell people you like them. I’m really proud of you.” She ruffles your hair, and you smile a little, even though your eyes are still wet and you still feel kind of sick in your stomach. Junko looks like Spring, you realise. She’s all bright colours and growing warmth, from her orange hair to her yellow nailpolish to her soft, gentle voice. She always smells fresh, you think to yourself. “Yeah! That was super brave of you. Like, I could never do that, probably,” Aoi adds, and you chuckle. You don’t miss the way she glances at Junko, though the orange-haired girl doesn’t appear to take any note of it. If Junko is spring, you think, then Aoi must be winter. She’s all crisp blues and chocolate browns, and she’s all of the cheer of a child seeing snow for the first time and all of the quiet of a crackling fire at midnight on Christmas Eve. It’s another few minutes of listening to them tell you something funny that happened that day before it hits you – they really, really care about you. Maybe it’s not the love you were looking for, but it helps a little bit. You don’t miss all the little ways they nudge you, as if to remind you of their presence so you don’t forget that they’re beside you. Even if every half-breath you have to heave air just to fill your lungs, and every step you think of what you did and how much you regret it, every other moment, you can think that you’re not alone. You feel a little bit worse when Junko has to leave. You wish she could stay with you, but you know she’s got homework – besides, Aoi invited you, not her. You get it – it all makes sense. You still feel cold on your left side, though, and you rub your arm to try to make up the difference. It doesn’t really work. Aoi puts her arm around you, and that helps, but you still feel like a few people are missing in your group-turned-regular hug. It wasn’t like yo u could have a group hug with two people. “I told you,” Aoi says not long after three becomes two, “We’re Team Unrequited Love now. We can take on the world,” and her enthusiasm falters a little bit at the end of the sentence, and god do you feel it. You’re drained, you think, drained of all of your energy. Still, you don’t think you could sleep if you tried. “Mmhmm,” you agree, and you try to smile, but it just feels weak, and after a few moments, you stop trying. You lean into her as you walk, and she holds you tighter. If anyone were watching the two of you, you think, they might mistake you for lovers. You don’t really mind the idea, just for tonight. When you make it back to Aoi’s house, it’s a little emptier than normal. Hikaru is in the backyard, shooting hoops, and Hana is staring intently at a book on the kitchen counter. “Oh, Aoi-neechan,” Hana says as she looks up, “Tsubasa-mama and Honoka-mama said they’d be going out for dinner tonight, so they won’t be back until late. Oh, and hi Hotaru-chan!” You greet her, and wonder if Aoi texted her or something, because Hana doesn’t look all that surprised to see you. Aoi frowns, but shrugs. “Typical,” she says, “So spontaneous with their decision-making, my moms. Still, you’re welcome to stay for dinner, Hotaru-chan.” You think you might. Hikaru runs into the kitchen, a little sweaty, basketball still in hand, and grins at the sight of you. “Hey, Hocchi! Good to see you again,” he says, and he’s so genuine you can’t stop yourself from responding in kind. “Aoi-nee, I need another person for this drill, can you help me?” Aoi looks troubled, but Hana darts up to you and clasps your hand in hers. “Hotaru-chan can help me with these cupcakes! Is that okay?” she asks, and you smile and nod. Aoi looks pleased, and leaves with Hikaru. Hana drags you towards the kitchen with vibrant enthusiasm, and immediately begins babbling about what you’re going to do. “Okay, so, today I’m making red velvet cupcakes. I’ve already pre-heated the oven, and lined the tin, so you get to join in for the exciting part! Making the batter!” Hana grins as she speaks, directing you to measure out flour and cornstarch, and showing you how to properly sift them together as she beats together some very careful measured egg whites. There’s an art to the way she moves her figures when she’s baking, and you can sense her love for food in every movement. She really is Honoka’s daughter, you think to yourself, and with every excited command she gives you, you only think that’s more and more true. By the time you’re done measuring the dry ingredients, you’re covered in cocoa powder and flour, and you think the mess you’ve made might have done more harm than the good you’ve done by trying to help. However, instead of scolding you for making a mess, Hana leaves over and admires the precision of your ingredient-measuring, before returning to beating the egg yolks and the butter together. You watch, a little mesmerized as she stops, very suddenly, before adding the rest of the wet ingredients, turning on the mixer again and staring intently at the bowl. By the time she’s done, there’s a splodge of mixture on her cheek, and you wipe it off with your finger and taste it. Hana looks particularly offended. “Um! Excuse you! I was gonna eat that!” she says, but the two of you grin, and Hana turns the page in the recipebook. “Now, Hotaru-chan, I’m gonna fold the dry ingredients you measured into the wet ones. We have to fold them because if we just mix then we’ll kill all the air bubbles in the mixtures and it won’t rise properly, but if we underfold then the texture will be messed up so we have to do it just right. Here, I’ll show you.” Hana takes the reins to the cupcakes, but you’re more than happy to watch her work. She explains everything as she goes, and you’re happy to pass her whatever she needs – the wooden spoon, the fork, the spatula – so that she can bake to her heart’s content. She’s so thorough you admire it, but – Somehow, her dedication reminds you a little of Yuuki, and you feel a little sadder. It gets a little harder to be swept up in Hana’s rhythm after that, but you try your best to stay enthusiastic, and you almost lose yourself when she hands you the spoon to taste the batter, only to have her lick it herself as soon as you pass it back. You flush, immediately, because doesn’t that count as an indirect kiss? Still Hana doesn’t seem to mind. You think if you were still crushing on Hana, you’d probably react worse, but those days are gone, although you do think Hana sits rather squarely in the “I don’t active like you, but I’d probably date you if you asked me” box. You think that’s a weird box to have, but it’s true. You kind of wish it was Yuuki you’d had the indirect kiss with. You blush at the thought, and suddenly try and focus very hard on what Hana’s telling you about putting the cupcakes in the oven. “We have to be careful about how long we bake them, though – they have to be taken out as soon as they’re springy to the touch, and we can insert a toothpick into the center and draw it out clean. Any longer, and they’ll dry out,” she says, and leans close to you. It really doesn’t help the redness in your face. “And we can’t have that! Our cupcakes must be moist!” Her boundless enthusiasm makes you chuckle again, and she shows you how to make the icing as the cupcakes bake. After twenty minutes, she pulls them out, and after another five minutes of allowing them to cool, she show you how to ice them – and this time, she lets you do most of them. Your first few are a little wonky, but then you get the hang of it, and very soon you have five wonky, and fifteen very nice looking red velvet cupcakes – although, you admit to yourself, at least five of those very nice looking cupcakes were thanks to Hana’s icing. Aoi and Hikaru come back as soon as they can smell them, and practically salivate at the sight. Hana’s holding herself back, you can tell, but she clasps your hands again and looks you in the eyes with genuine awe. “Hotaru-chan, these cupcakes look amazing,” she gushes, twirling back towards the cupcakes. “We might just make a baker out of you yet.” From the way she shovels four cupcakes into her mouth in the following four minutes, you think she is definitely Honoka’s daughter. Aoi then invites you to her room again, and it’s certainly a lot tidier than yesterday – you don’t think Honoka seems like the type to nag about tidy rooms, so you think it can only be Tsubasa. You recline on her bed, and Aoi sits on the floor, resting on her stomach. She reaches over to her iPod, and sets it to go through a playlist. It’s not got any Muse songs, and you’re somewhat greatful for that. You deal enough with that at home. “Hana’s a great baker, isn’t she?” she says, and you nod. “She’s always loved it. I guess it’s Honoka-mama’s influence. Those two get along so well.” “Tsubasa-san must get so fed up with all the baked goods those two must produce,” you offer, but Aoi shakes her head, resting her chin on her hands. “You’d be surprised! Tsubasa-mama loves eating baking as well, so she’s never really minded. She’s not that great at it, so having two people in the house who are is like a blessing to her,” she says. “Hikaru’s a glutton, so I’m the only one who really ever gets sick of so many sweet things all the time. It’s a wonder Hana doesn’t get fat with all she eats. It’s not like she plays a sport, either.” The two of you smile, and Aoi keeps telling you all about her family – how Hikaru could never go to the bathroom in the middle of the night by himself, so he’d wake Aoi up, or how Hana got caught midnight snacking several times when she was younger. She assures you that Hana is much, much sneakier now. You bring up your parent’s antics, such as how Nozomi-mama is always trying to prank Eli-mama, or how on occasion Eli-mama will make you all a Russian dish you’ve never heard of, and tell you terrible things about to make you fear eating it. It always tastes wonderful, in the end, and you’d think you’d learn after how many times she’s pulled that trick, but you’re never quite able to be sure. The song changes to a slow, moving piano melody, and Aoi glances at you. “Hey, Hotaru-chan, have you ever learnt how to slow dance?” You shake her head, and flush a little, but Aoi grins, and leaps to her feet. “Come on then,” she says, and extends a hand, “I’ll teach you.” You swallow, mutter an “Okay,” and stand with her as Aoi starts the song over. “Junko and I took social dance classes a while back, and this is probably the easiest one,” she says, taking your left hand in her right, and resting her other hand on your shoulder. “I’ll let you take the lead, but you if decide you want your partner to lead, you can just swap hand positions.” “Wait, I’m leading?” you ask, bewildered. Aoi nods, and you gulp as you rest a hand on her hip. “Now, you just step,” she says, stepping to the side and tapping one foot to the other, “and touch.” You copy her motion, trying it to the other side in time with her, until you’re both gently swaying to the music. “Good,” Aoi whispers, and you start to think to yourself that this sort of thing could be fun. “Now, try leading me in any direction you want – just make sure you do it in time to the music.” It takes you a few attempts and near-falls, but eventually you get the hang of it of it, guiding Aoi in circles, and even throwing in a spin or two until the two of you are dizzy, but you don’t stop. The next song is slow, too, and you think you could just keep dancing with her forever. Then, suddenly the floor disappear from beneath you as you trip and take Aoi down with you, pinning her to the floor beneath you. You stare at each other, and you’re about to apologise and back off when Aoi whispers to you. “Hey,” she says. “Want to make out?” That catches you off-guard. You blush harder than you think you’ve done this entire week. “W-w-what?” you sputter, “I – “ “Look,” Aoi says, with a wry smile. “You’re hot, I’m hot, and we’re both sexually frustrated. Let’s make out.” You nod, and suddenly Aoi’s lips are on your own, and you’re lost in the moment. It’s not like you’ve never kissed anyone before – you’ve been on a couple of dates, and you’ve played spin the bottle more than a few times but you’ve never once in your life dreamed that you’d be making out with Aoi. Her lips feel so, so warm and – You both pull away at the same time, and match each other’s sombre expression. As good as it felt, you really, really wish she were Yuuki – and you know that she wishes you were Junko. The two of you sigh, but in all honesty you feel a little better – even if you stopped, it helped, in a way. You’re not exactly breathless, but you feel a little relieved. “Uh,” you say, but Aoi just smiles and shakes her head. “I know what you mean,” she says, and ruffles your hair. You don’t mind the gesture at all. Your phone screen lights up, and it’s a text from Natsuki. He hardly ever texts you, but it’s the second one today. You realise he must have texted you whilst you were learning to slow-dance, and flush a little.

6:08pm Natsuki: Nee-san, what time are you coming home? Hikaru texted me about what happened, and Eli-mama’s making your favourite for dinner.

6:22pm Natsuki: Hotaru-neesan? Hello?

You quickly text back, smiling a little at the thought of Pelmeni.

6:23pm Hotaru: I’ll be home in fifteen minutes.

“I’m sorry, Aoi, but I won’t be staying for dinner,” you say, “Eli-mama’s making Pelmeni for dinner.” Aoi just smiles, and says, “That’s fine. I’ll walk you half-way, then.” For whichever reason, the walk isn’t awkward at all.

When you walk in the front door, and call out, “I’m home!”, the first thing you see is Eli-mama and Natsuki in the kitchen, the first thing you smell is the warm scent of Pelmeni, and the first thing you feel is Nozomi-mama’s gentle embrace as she hugs you from behind. “We heard about what happened from Natsuki,” she says, and her voice is so, so soothing. “Are you feeling okay?” You want to nod and say yes, you’re fine, but even thinking about still makes your voice go all strange and your chest seize up so – You shake your head, and Nozomi-mama hugs you tighter, stroking your hair and your cheeks, and wiping away every tear that falls. She’s so warm, you think, and you could just melt into your mother’s embrace, because she feels so safe where the outside world makes you think of Yuuki and makes you hurt. Her embrace feels like home, and there’s nowhere else you want to be. After a few moments, she lets you go, and guides you towards the table, and when you take the first bite you can’t help but smile. “That’s my girl,” Eli-mama says, and her smile is filled with all the love in the world, and you feel just a bit better seeing it. Dinner is filled with silly stories – Natsuki complains in detail about how Hikaru comes to the councilroom in his sweaty basketball uniform, and how he caught Hikaru chatting up several girls outside the councilroom earlier this week and how Hikaru ‘accidentally’ threw a basketball through the window of their classroom. “You call him stupid, but you’re the one who chose him as your vice president,” you say, and Natsuki slams his face into the table. “I have so many regrets,” he mumbles through the hardwood. For the first time that night, it’s a real, genuine chuckle that emerges from your throat, and in moments, your parents, and even Natsuki himself join in. You think to yourself that your brother’s a dork sometimes – even if he’s all perfect and does dishes and cooks and cleans and gets perfect grades, there’s something klutzy about him that you can’t unsee. Eli-mama tells you all about the awful dancers at the school she teaches at, and how these kids are twelve and thirteen now and they still can’t do a triple pirouette – she scoffs, and tells you that in Russia, you’d have had that kind of move perfected by the time you were ten. You’re pretty sure she’s exaggerating, though, because you can see the pride in her eyes when she tells you about the way their pointe techniques have improved, and how little Asuka-chan managed to perform her triple runs flawlessly that day.  She looks proud, and it reminds you of the way she looked when you hit your first home run all those years ago. You’ve seen her look at you that way a hundred times since then, and each time, you’ve felt just as special. Nozomi-mama tells you about the adorable finger-paintings the kids at her pre-school did that day – how Tomoki-chan drew a beautiful hillside that kind of looked like a green butt, but she didn’t tell him that. Aya-chan drew a cute little cat, and your mother wonders aloud why your family has never had a pet cat. “It’s always been something I’ve wanted to have,” she says, completely serious. “My parents were always moving around when I was younger, so why don’t we get a cat?” Eli-mama, to her credit, looks like she’s actually considering this, and agrees the family needs a pet. “What about a dog?” she suggests, “Cats are cute, but a dog would be much more exciting, don’t you think?” Nozomi-mama agrees and thinks that either a cat or a dog would be fine – if it were a dog, she thinks she could bring it to her daycare to play with the kids, providing she got permission from the parents. Natsuki, to your surprise, looks genuinely excited at the prospect. “We’d have to walk it twice a day,” he says, looking more alive than he has all week, “So we’d have to rotate duties, and make a roster or something.” “Oh, but what breed would we get?” Nozomi-mama asks, “We’ll have to see if there’s a breeder around here.” Moments later, the dishes are piled in the sink, unwashed, and the four of you are on the couch, crowded around your laptop on Eli-mama’s lap. You’re squished between her and Nozomi-mama, and Natsuki takes the other side. “It has a be a toy poodle,” he says, “They’re clean and small.” “What about a Shiba? Wouldn’t it be nice to have a Japanese dog?” Eli-mama suggest. “Ah,” Nozomi-mama says, “What about a dachshund?” Nozomi-mama’s enthusiasm takes over, and as the four of you stare at adorable pictures of puppies, you’re all in agreement: if it’s a dog, it has to be a dachshund. The four of you spend another half hour squabbling over names before Natsuki points out you can’t name a dog until you see it. Eventually, Eli-mama shuts the laptop, and you think you can finally breathe again after being so uncomfortably squashed between your parents for so long. Somehow, you don’t mind it though, because in their affection, there’s something so endearing about them that you can’t help but love them back. You’re family, after all. You think that now’s the time to escape to your room and crawl into your bed, but as you get up, Nozomi-mama grabs your wrist and pulls you back down. “Where do you think you’re going?” she says, “It’s family movie night.” Natsuki’s in the kitchen making popcorn, Eli-mama gets up and hooks the laptop up to the TV – it’s decidedly smaller than the one at the twin’s house, but it’s still big enough to see on – and Nozomi pulls you into a hug. “Better get comfortable, Hocchi,” she says, and you know you can’t fight it so you snuggle up to her as best you can. Eli-mama cuddles you from your other side, and Natsuki – much to his dismay – ends up cuddling up to Eli-mama too. The movie you end up watching is Wolf Children – probably because of all this dog talk – and you pretend you don’t see Natsuki tear up when the Wolfman dies, but as you watch the movie, you start yawning more and more, because you’re so, so tired. It’s been a long week, and you’ve come home late every night because of student council work or something else. When the credits roll, you’re struggling to keep your eyes open. Eli-mama is stroking your hair, and you barely stir as Nozomi-mama lifts you in your arms and carries you up the stairs to your bedroom. The last thing you remember before you fall asleep is hearing her sing.

Even if at times crushing sorrow fills my heart I'll keep watching over you, always, always

It’s a week or two after the budget meeting that your resolve begins to fail. Yuuki’s showing you how to properly fill out response forms, because up until now it’s always been her job – you’ve had other paperwork to do – but now that things have slowed, it’s more efficiently if the two of you work on the same piles at once. You’re paying attention this time, too, even if every now and then your eyes creep to her rather exposed neckline. It’s getting colder, but you suppose it isn’t quite cool enough for scarves yet. You’re quite pleased about that. “Then, you just sign here, and you’re done,” and she leans a little further forwards to show you exactly where. You release a tiny gasp as the distance between you shrinks to millimetres, because such extreme proximity is possibly a little much, and your face flushes. You’re so close that you’re sure she can feel your breath on her cheek, and you briefly debate the possibility of kissing that awfully appealing neck before quashing the thought as fast as you can because that sort of thing would really, really not help you here. Her hair brushes against your face, and you can feel the curve of her chest pressing into your arm, and you think to yourself you might expire right then and there but – Yuuki leans back, raising a perfectly curved eyebrow, and asks, “Were you even listening?” It takes you a moment to realise that she’d been talking the whole time, and because you couldn’t keep your thoughts under control, you’d missed her yet again. “Nnyes,” you sputter, your face still redder than last night’s roast tomatoes, and you think to yourself how many times this has happened before. A couple of times a week, perhaps, maybe a little more. It impresses you that Yuuki hasn’t outright given up on you – then again, it’d be a scandal if you were to get kicked out of the student council, so you think that maybe she’s just trying to minimise the damage. Like always, she sighs, rolls her eyes, and begins explaining again. You’ve got to force yourself to pay attention, but there’s only so much alone time with her you can take before your thoughts start wandering. And boy, do they wander. It’s not until there’s a knock on the door that the two of you stop working through the papers. At Yuuki’s permission, Aoi enters the room, Junko in tow. The two of them are still unchanged from club, a trace of sweat on their foreheads. “Oh, hey Aoi, hey Junko,” Yuuki says, putting her pen down and resting her arms on the table. “Shouldn’t you guys shower or something? It’s not good for your skin to stay in your club clothes.” You swallow and wave, reminding yourself that they’re your friends too. You’re just not, well – best friends. “I mean, I’d love to,” Aoi frowns, “but the showers conked out, so we’re gonna need a maintenance request form each.” Yuuki nods, and you watch her as she rushes to the side of the room, and hands over a piece of paper and pen to each. You just keep going through the paperwork, trying to mind your own business. If you pretend you’re busy, then you don’t have to look at the gentle way Yuuki’s hands brush over Aoi’s shoulders, and the soft, kind look in her eyes that she never, ever looks at you with. “So, how did they break?” You can’t drown out their conversation, though. Eventually, the two of them leave with a promise to be back in fifteen minutes, and an offer to go out to that cute French Café again. “Would you like to come, Hotaru-chan?” Junko asks, smiling sweetly at you. You shake your head, though. “I’ll pass, I think. I have a ton of homework,” you say, and it’s not entirely a lie. You do have a few pages of Math due tomorrow, but it’s not like it’ll take you more than an hour. Yuuki gives you a sideglance, but says nothing. The two of you finish quicker than expected, so Aoi and Junko aren’t back yet, and you begin to pack your things away into your bag. Yuuki pouts at you, drumming her fingers on the table as she relaxes in her chair. “Really? You’re gonna leave me here all alone?” she says, “Stay with me until they come back, come on. You don’t have that much homework.” You roll your eyes, and it’s so, so easy to fall back into your old dynamic. There’s something teasing about the lilt of her voice, so naturally you respond in kind. “Maybe if you beg me,” you say, and a grin creeps to your face. You raise an eyebrow as she seems to ponder your request, but you’re just waiting for her to gently punch your arm and tell you ‘only in your dreams’. What you don’t see coming is the way she clutches a hand to her chest, adopts a look of distress, and – “Hotaru-chan, please?” You’re momentarily speechless before you remember she’s Kotori’s child, and suddenly it all makes sense. “Fuuhh-huck,” is all you can manage as your jaw drops, and Yuuki looks at you with an infuriating smirk on her infuriatingly perfect face, and you know she knows she’s won. “Where did you learn that?” you ask, your voice a little breathy, because you’ve only ever seen it once, long ago in your childhood. It’s a technique her mother’s never used lightly, if only for the sheer power it holds. “Kotori-mama taught me a few years ago,” Yuuki says, and somehow her smirk seems to widen. You suddenly feel very, very sorry for Umi. Fighting against not one, but two of them must be possible. You chat quietly until Aoi and Junko finally show up, and for once, it’s nice. There’s no mention of the student council, or Aoi or Junko, or anything unpleasant. You just talk. It’s nice. When the three of them leave, you offer a smile, but as soon as they’re gone, it drops from your face. You begin to wish you’d said yes to their offer, but it’s a bit late now. Instead, you take to the hallway, trying to get Yuuki’s smile out of your thoughts. Suddenly, your vision goes dark as hands cover your eyes, accompanied by two iconic giggles. “Hotariiiiin~” they call, and you elbow the one directly behind you in effort to free yourself. “Let go, Makoto,” you say, and your vision instantly returns, accompanied by a pair of frustrated purple eyes. Kamiko snickers next to her. “That’s so unfair,” Makoto whines, scowling, “How did you know it was me, and not Kamiko?” “Well,” you lie, “I don’t want to spoil my secret technique, do I? Also, it’s Hotaru-senpai, thanks.” The two of them roll their eyes and peer around you, into the empty council room. “Where’s Yuuki-senpai?” Kamiko asks, and you shrug. “She went with Aoi and Junko today.” The twins exchange a look, but begin to smile again. “So, Maki-mama’s on the late shift tonight,” Makoto says, “And Nico-mama’s away on business. So,” “Do you wanna come over tonight?” Kamiko finishes. Makoto shoots her a glare, but the mischievous glint returns to their eyes in a split-second. There’s a hidden message in their seemingly-innocent request – you know well they just want you to cook them dinner. Still, it’s not a bad idea, considering their kitchen’s appliances are super expensive, and they always get the good meat. You could make a really nice curry, you muse. “Fine,” you agree, ruffling their hair with your hands, “but you two are helping me cook this time.” It’s a wasted statement, because you know they’re not going to, but the pleased looks on their faces are cute enough to stop you from caring.

The curry you make – alone, mind you, although Kamiko did show you how to use the stove – is probably the best one you’ve ever had. The twins agree, rather noisily, but somehow manage to avoid spilling any on the table. It’s not that late when you finish eating, so you decide to finish off those pages of Math. You know Yuuki will have your ass if you don’t, especially after today, and an angry Yuuki is a Yuuki to run away from very fast. The twins are browsing though some old Muse videos from when their parents were still in high school, and you listen, absentmindedly, whilst you grind out some equations. Most of the songs are familiar to you – they’re still played occasionally on the radio, and of course your mothers have been religious about teaching you their solos for ‘Family Fun Friday’, much to your disdain. Natsuki is always equally as enthralled as you are, but you wonder if singing Garden of Glass ever bothered him. It’s not like he’s ever shown any interest in anyone other than Hikaru. You make a mental note to tease him about that later. You derive a small amount of pleasure from just how embarrassed the twins sound as they watch an interview with their mothers from when they were still a first year and third year. “Oh my god, Mom, no.” “I can’t believe we spawned from their loins.” “How did they ever get together?” “I have no idea.” “How come you’re watching all these old videos if they embarrass you so much?” you ask, leaning back in your chair and glancing over at the couch. You can see their 80-inch TV from where you’re sitting, and in the back of your mind, you’re seething with jealousy. “Blackmail material,” they answer in unison, and you roll your eyes – of course. What else would they be doing it for? When you finally finish the last gruelling page of Algebra, you decide to join them. It’s equal parts hilarious and cringeworthy to see your parents and theirs in their teen years, but something about it makes you smile. If not for Muse, you’d probably have never talked to Yuuki. The two of you made an unlikely pair, and if not for the fact that your parents were close friends, you’d probably never have felt the need to become so as well. You wouldn’t have met the twins, or Aoi or Hana or Junko. Despite all this, it was still embarrassing as hell. As you watched, however, you became less distracted by your parent’s teenage antics, and more and more invested in the relationship between Yuuki’s parents and Aoi’s mother. In the beginning, they’d always been together as a trio – HonoKotoUmi, the media called it in the many, many interviews. There was so much love between them, it warmed your heart. Yuuki’s parents were adorable, if humorous, and Aoi’s mother was so genuine it was almost painful to watch. They reminded you of the three of you – like mothers, like daughters. The further down the line you watched, though, the more and more you saw of Kotori and Umi together, and less and less of Honoka with them. Every now and then, Honoka’s smile looked – just a little, just a little – forced, whilst Yuuki’s parents looked happier than ever. It became apparent to you that over the months and years Muse had been together, Kotori and Umi had grown slowly closer, and with Honoka, had grown slightly further apart. Your heart almost breaks when it’s decided that Honoka will switch with Umi to be the center of WILD STARS. It looks so unnecessary to you, but Aoi’s mother takes it in her stride. She’s the leader, after all, and a member of the student council. She can’t let petty things like feelings get in the way of her friends and her duties. You admire that hardworking side of her. Then, you’re watching one of their old training videos. They’re practising the steps for Future Style, one of their last ever songs, and Honoka’s without her typical smile. She stops, and Yuuki’s parents look at her strangely. “Honoka-chan, what’s wrong?” “…do you two not like me anymore? Are we not best friends anymore?” The hurt on Honoka’s face is so palpable, so real, and you relate to it so much. In your head, Yuuki is Umi, Aoi is Kotori, and you’re Honoka. You’re on the brink of tears when you hear a key in the lock, and the twins frantically shut off the TV, unplugging the laptop from it and slamming it shut. Your heart sinks, because you just have to know what happens next – you think you’ll expire if you don’t know. “Can you guys give me that videoclip? I kinda want to keep on watching,” you ask. The twins nod. “Uh, sure, but I don’t know where a spare USB is.” You don’t have one in your school bag, but you settle for the promise that they’ll bring you it tomorrow. You can wait, you think. Probably.

The twins make good on their promise and deliver it to you in the morning – “Just for you, Hotariiiin~” “It’s Hotaru-senpai, but thanks.” – but it’s not until after club that you have a chance to watch it. You’re freshly showered, and Yuuki is running late, so you open up your laptop, and continue from where you left off. Almost immediately, that sinking feeling reappears in your chest when you see Honoka’s forced smile. “Honoka, what are you talking about? Of course we’re still friends.” “Umi-chan’s right. We’re definitely still friends.” You swallow as Honoka takes a step back, still wearing that painfully forced smile. “Then…why do you two seem so much closer to each other than you are to me?” “Honoka…” “Honoka-chan…” “….it’s fine,” she says, and you can feel your eyes begin to water. “I think I’m gonna head home for today, okay?” You burst into tears as you see her run far, far away. The clip ends, and you try to rub the wetness from your eyes, but it just keeps coming, and you release an undignified sob. Even though the clip is over, you can’t get Honoka’s hurt expression out of your head. It’s just so, so unfair. The three of them should have been together forever, and if they couldn’t, then what did that mean for you and Yuuki and Aoi? Didn’t that mean that one day, Yuuki and Aoi were going to leave you too, and you’d be forgotten about? They’d go on to have a happy family, and you’d be left all alone. The thought rips a hole in your heart, and you can feeling it bleeding out through your tears. “Sorry about that, Hotaru-chan, Minori-chan had a couple of questions, and – “ Yuuki enters the room at the worst possible time. You look up at her, tears streaming from your eyes, and immediately bury your face in your arms. A touch to your arm indicates she rushed immediately to your side, but your eyes are tightly forced shut, and you think that maybe, maybe if you pretend you’re not crying and that it doesn’t hurt she won’t be able to see and everything will be fine. “Hotaru-chan, what’s wrong? What happened?” But it’s not. You shake your head over and over, unable to say anything because oh god, she’s part of the reason you’re like this and why won’t she just leave you alone? You release another ungainly sob, and forget to breathe for a half-beat, trying so, so hard to just ignore her, but you can’t, you can’t. “H-hotaru-chan? Talk to me…” she says, but her voice is wavering too, it’s almost as panicky as you feel and you know she’s about to cry too. She doesn’t even know why you can’t stop crying, and you choke at the feel of her hands gripping onto your shirt. You hear her whip out her phone and tap away at it, but then she puts it down and awkwardly strokes your hair. It’d be comforting if it wasn’t her. You forget to breathe again, and heave out another sob, wiping your eyes again to no avail. Suddenly, Aoi opens the door and oh god you don’t this could possibly get worse, but Aoi takes you in her arms and rubs your back. Just like that, you feel a little calmer, and you bury your tears into her chest until your heaving subsides, and the tears finally stop falling. “Better?” Aoi whispers, and you nod, wiping your eyes again. You take a moment to glance over at Yuuki and instantly regret it. Her eyes are surrounded by a painful pink, her eyebrows knitted, and her face all screwed up. You did this, you realise. You feel awful for it. “I’m gonna take her with me, okay Yuuki-chan?” Aoi says, and she takes your hand in her warm, warm one and leads you out the door. Yuuki refuses to meet your eyes, and you suddenly wish it hadn’t been Aoi to comfort you. The thought of her being jealous over you stings. Aoi herself, however, is kind and gentle, and all the things you’ve ever wanted in an older sister. You’ve known her for a long time, but you never were as close to her as Yuuki is. She holds your hand in an effort to remind you she’s still there, probably, and you appreciate that. The two of you walk in silence, but that’s kind of nice, too. Aoi smiles at you and squeezes your hand whenever the two of you meet eyes – and you glance at her a lot – and you think to yourself that Yuuki is so, so lucky to have her. You can’t blame either of them, really. They shine in places where you don’t, so it’s only natural for them to be attracted to each other. Yuuki is the kind of person you can’t look away from, and Aoi has her own gaggle of fangirls for a reason – it’s not like she lets anyone forget the time she received nine valentines on Valentine’s Day when she was in her second year. You’re just…you. Nothing else. “Do you wanna talk about what happened?” Aoi says, eventually, but you shake your head. The older girl ruffles your hair, and you chuckle. “Nah,” you say, looking up at her, “but thank you. Uh, but could I come to your house today, maybe?” You feel a little rude, inviting yourself over, but you doubt Honoka will mind. She’s always welcomed you into her home. “Of course,” Aoi says, and you thank the gods, “How come?” “I want to ask your mother for advice.” Aoi raises an eyebrow – appropriate, considering how much she complains about how unreliable her mother can be – but shrugs, and elbows you. “A curious choice for advice there, but I guess you know what you’re doing, Hotaru-chan.”

Aoi’s family is lively as ever. Hikaru leaps up from the couch to greet you, and Hana waves enthusiastically from her chair. “Hocchi! I haven’t seen you in ages!” Hikaru says, and you give him a pointed look at the nickname he calls you by. Hikaru just grins, shrugging his shoulders. Honoka is in the kitchen, squatting in front of the oven and watching intently. She’s cut her hair short since her idol days, but it still looks nice, with the two clips from when she was 16 tucking a lock of hair neatly behind her ear. She doesn’t notice you until you walk right up to her. “Good afternoon, Kousaka-san,” you say, and Honoka immediately stands up and grins at you. “Hotaru-chan! It’s been so long since you last visited, how have you been?” Honoka’s face lights up as she looks at you, and it fills you with a warm, fuzzy feeling, countering the gloom still lingering in your chest. “I’ve been really good, but I wanted to ask your advice on something,” you say, and watch as her mouth briefly forms an ‘o’ before she glances at the oven. “Of course,” she says, “but just let me pull out this batch of melonpan.” As always, Honoka’s bread is delightfully tasty, and you relish in the gentle crunch of the sweet exterior as she leads you outside, into the garden. It’s a small, but peaceful place. Their house is somewhat compact, as well as open-plan, so you understand why Honoka chose this place to talk. It’s probably the most private place on the property. “So, uh, Kousaka-san –“ you begin, only to be cut off. “Call me Honoka, Hotaru-chan. You’re a Muse kid. We’re family.” The sentiment fills your heart with warmth, and you can’t stop a goofy smile from creeping to your face. Honoka smiles brightly at you. “Honoka-san, I was watching one of your old training videos today. You were practising Future Style.” Her smile fades a little, to be replaced with compassion. You worry you might have brought up a painful memory too late, but her eyes encourage you to go on. “Except there was a fight, and you ended up leaving Sonoda-san and Minami-san behind. You see, I – “ you say, “I think I’m in a similar situation. Two of my friends are – close, closer to each other than they are to me, and I think I’m getting left behind.” Your shoulders droop. “I don’t want that.” Honoka rubs your back in the same way that Aoi did, gentle and calming. “That video probably didn’t give you a great picture of what happened. It was a silly fight, really. I was so worried over being hurt by the two of them that I didn’t realise how much I was hurting them by pushing them away,” she says, her voice soft. “They chased me down, and once we talked about, I realised that they still cared about me just as much as they cared about each other – just in a different way. Maybe it was a little difficult to adjust at first, but I’d never wanted to date either of them. I just wanted them to be happy.” You nod, but you don’t see how that can help you at all. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want something more with Yuuki, so what good was that sort of advice? “I guess what I’m saying is, don’t be afraid of talking to your friends, even if you think they’re something wrong between you. You’ll solve a ton of problems if you just talk about things, you know?” You nod, and swallow. She makes a good point, you suppose, but – “But how am I meant to talk to them if they’re the reason I’m so upset? I like – “ and you almost say it, but you manage to withhold her name. Honoka’s face softens in realisation, and she hugs you to her side. “Talk to them anyway. Tell them how you feel about everything, and if they’re really your friends, things will work out. If they care about you, of course they’re gonna care about your feelings,” Honoka says, and you don’t want to but you’re beginning to think that maybe she’s right, “If things don’t work out, then you probably weren’t great friends to begin with, but I don’t think that’s the case here.” She squeezes your hand like Aoi does. “Does that help?” she asks. You nod once, twice, four times for good measure. “I – I think I know what I’m gonna do. Thank you so much for talking to me, Honoka-san.” She just smiles, and pats your head.

Aoi’s agreed to wait for you in her room, and you get Hikaru to point out which is the right one. Her walls are a light brown, but her duvet is sky blue. The Western influence has to be Tsubasa, you think Honoka’s always lived in a traditional Japanese house. Aoi’s relaxing on her bed, reading a book, and she pats a space beside her. “Good talk?” she asks, clearly not wanting to pry, and rests her book on her bedside table. You nod, and take a seat, almost falling backwards because you fail to expect how squishy her mattress is. Aoi giggles, and the two of you throw words back and forth until you’re both laughing uncontrollably. There’s nothing particularly funny about the mattress, but Aoi’s laugh is so contagious you think your sides might split. When the two of you calm down, you decide to take the plunge. “Hey, um, Aoi?” you begin, twiddling your thumbs. You’re not sure exactly how to start, but an ‘m’ seems perfectly sufficient. “Mm?” She gazes directly at you, focussing all of her attention onto you. You swallow. “It’s, uh, about earlier today,” you say, “about why I was crying.” “Was it about Yuuki?” she says, you immediately feel the colour drain from your face because oh god how does she know about that, what if Yuuki knows? You’re about ready to expire right then and there, but then Aoi laughs, a full sound. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she says, grinning. “H-how – “ you stammer inelegantly, your face turning red again. This seems to only encourage Aoi’s bemused expression. “Junko told me. She’s super observant, you know,” she says, “and I maybe accidentally eavesdropped a little when I went to the bathroom.” You flush, and try to be angry, but you’re so embarrassed you can’t even muster enough anger to scold her. “She knows Hikaru likes your brother, too,” Aoi continues. “It makes me worry a little, because she’ll probably figure out I like her eventually.” You stop. “Wait a second – you don’t like Yuuki?” Aoi gives you a strange look. “Ah, no. She’s my best friend, but I’m not into her like that.” You suddenly feel a lot better. “Is that what this was about?” she asks, ruffling your hair. You bristle, much to her amusement, “You thought Yuuki and I had a thing?” You feel stupid, but you nod once anyway. Aoi gives you a compassionate glance, and in that moment, she looks exactly like her mother. “I promise you, Yuuki and I are definitely not going to be getting together anytime soon. Besides, I think Junko would have told me if Yuuki was actually interested in me,” she says, and hearing those words lift a heavy burden from your heart. You let out a small smile, and everything feels better. “You’re as useless as your parents, you know that?” You flush again, but you’re laughing this time, and your heart feels lighter for the first time in weeks. “You should tell her how you feel,” Aoi says, “if nothing else other than to get it off your chest. She’ll worry about you forever if you don’t tell her what had you so upset.” You think that’s a ridiculous idea, but the later it gets and the more you ponder over it, the more you think that maybe, quite possibly, you could do it. Hana joins the two of you shortly, and you think about how nice it is to be able to relax for once. The student council doesn’t exactly allow for holidays, but this will do just fine. You think that a bigger family might have been nice, perhaps.

Dinner with Aoi’s family is every bit as lively as you’d expect. What Hikaru, Honoka and Hana lack in table manners, they make up for in gusto. Tsubasa-san and Aoi look a shade embarrassed, but when you smile and join in, they seem to relax. It’s fun, you think, and so different from your own home. Sure, Honoka and Hana’s curry isn’t quite as good as yours, but you think you prefer it anyway. Eating it with five other people quite frankly makes it taste way better. The six of you laugh, joke, tease and tell stories, and all of a sudden it becomes a competition of who did the most exciting thing earlier today. Whilst Tsubasa’s story about Erena and Anju’s dog, Toru, comes close, nobody can top Hikaru’s story about Natsuki and the turnips. Every time you think of it, you burst out laughing again, and it seems like everyone at the table shares your thoughts. By the time dinner is over, you think you’ve laughed off enough calories to burn through all of it. It’s exactly what you need, however, because you haven’t felt so happy and loved in weeks. You thank Tsubasa and Honoka for having you, and Aoi offers to walk you part of the way home. Before the two of you leave, however, Hikaru darts up to you with a serious face. “Hocchi,” he says, “I need you to do something for me. It’s very important.” “Of course, Hikkun,” you respond, your face and tone matching his. “I need you to tell Tsucchi ‘Don’t forget the turnips’ from me.” You nod. “Of course.” Hikaru’s face twists into a grin at your response, and you bump fists as you walk out the door. Outside, the night air is cool, but it feels nice after the sheer energy of Aoi’s household. “Do you feel better about things now?” she asks, and you smile and nod. “A lot,” you say, “I really appreciate you letting me come over.” Aoi shook her head, waving her hands. She looked almost bashful in the light of the streetlamps, and for once, you can understand why she’s so popular at school. “Honoka-mama loves having you over. She practically wants you to move in,” Aoi responds, and you giggle. “I think her dream household is everyone from Muse, and all their kids.” That sounds about right, you think, and you briefly ponder over what it would be like having yourself, Aoi, Hana, Hikaru, Junko, Yuuki and – oh god not the twins – in one house. “It sounds like a living nightmare. Imagine living with the twins full-time.” “They’re not that bad. They just know how to push your buttons. They really respect you, I think.” You’d debate this concept, but you let it slide. “Your mother gives good advice, you know,” you say to her, and Aoi puls a face. “That would be the first time I’ve ever heard anyone say that,” but you’re both laughing about it. You figure Honoka can’t be that terrible a mother. She raised Aoi, after all. “Look, even if Yuuki doesn’t like you back, you don’t need to feel like you’re by yourself, okay?” Aoi offers, brushing against your shoulder in a gentle gesture. “I know Junko likes someone else, so we can be Team Unrequited Love if it goes bad.” You smile, because Aoi is rather sheepish now. “I just don’t want you to feel like I got your hopes up, or anything, because I really don’t know, and –“ “It’s fine,” you say, and nudge her gently. “I’m prepared for whatever happens.” “Have you figured out when you’re gonna ask her?” “Tomorrow. After we’re done with school council stuff,” You feel better about picking a Friday, because you don’t have to see her at all over the weekend if things turn to custard. Aoi nods approvingly. “Alright, I’ll leave you here, okay? Get home safe,” she says, “and good luck.” “Thank you so much, Aoi.” The two of you part with a smile, and you walk home with a bounce in your step. You’ve never felt this motivated before. As you open the door, you notice your parents curled up together, asleep on the couch. Natsuki is doing dishes in the kitchen, and he calls out to you. “Oh, welcome home, Hotaru-nee,” he says, without looking up. You grin. “Hey, Natsuki?” you ask. “Mm?” “Hikaru-kun says not to forget the turnips.” You laugh uncontrollably when you hear a loud crash and a volley of profanity from the kitchen.