Disclaimer: Kamichama Karin is (c) Koge-Donbo
Warnings: possible OOC (especially where it concerns Ami), spoilers for the first series & beginning of the second (with Himeka, I believe), dialogue driven.
A/N: I'm very slowly wading my way through small scenarios that I wanted to write up however many years ago now. Originally posted at livejournal; in which Ami and Himeka have a talk, and while they might not reach any conclusions, at least they'll find some kind of middle ground. (And the title was taken from a vocaloid song, but there's no real connection between the two.)
Two Breaths Walking
"You know, for some reason I don't think I'll ever be able to understand people like you."
"Hm?" Himeka glanced up, her fascination with the water below them temporarily forgotten.
Seated precariously on the bridge's railing, Ami kicked her legs out a little further and ignored the strange looks she received from passer-bys; "You- you're too accepting. You take everything in your stride, and you're so selfless it's almost painful to watch," she laughed at this, though it did not seem to be directed towards anyone in particular, "Michiru's like that as well, and sometimes I can't help but want to hit him."
"So… we frustrate you?" Himeka guessed, amused smile in place as she watched the older girl continue to swing her legs. A part of her had wondered why the curly-haired girl had practically barged in earlier that day and had dragged her outside, but she had no real complaints; they had done a little sightseeing, Ami pointing to small areas easily overlooked as she reminisced about her childhood. It had been fascinating for Himeka, who could only attempt to piece together what their lives had been like before Michiru had been taken under her father's wing.
It had all be so carefree, full of life; a childhood she herself was familiar with (even without her parents, there had always been Kazune, Miyon and Yuuki).
Ami grunted, face twisted into a frown as she tried to speak her mind; "Well, in the end, yes. It's not like you're horrible people, and lord knows Michiru can be a handful and a dork, but sometimes it just doesn't make sense. I don't know how else to explain it."
She cursed loudly as she tipped forward a touch too much, the same moment Himeka reached forward to grasp her arm, pulling back without too much effort. Ami groaned as she sat on the bridge's planking, blaming everyone but herself.
Turning so that she had her back was against the railing, Himeka slid down into a seated position, "Is it because… you feel like it's all changed?" A small part of her could imagine that, even if the details were murky at best.
"Well, some of the changes really weren't for the better," Ami admitted, "but they weren't for the worse either, so I guess I don't have much of a right to complain. Michiru… you didn't know him before all this, so it's only natural that what you see is how you perceive him."
The older girl bit her lip at this, as if unsure of how to continue, even as Himeka laced her fingers together and turned to look up at the sky. The grey had given way for a vibrant blue, while the sounds of cars and people filled the air, and Himeka could only wonder what her friends back at home were doing at that very moment.
"Do you…" she breathed, trying to find the right words to ask Ami, "do you think you've lost your childhood friend, then?"
"I don't know anymore," Ami's voice was muffled, barest hint of frustration in her tone, "When I was younger, that would have been a definite yes, but now… it's hard to say. That time, when I had to go to the Kujyou's, I never expected to see him so happy, but I could tell that something wasn't completely right. I mean, he was – is – happy now, but it was like he felt guilty about something."
Himeka nodded at this, "He knew how much he'd hurt you, and wanted to apologise."
There was a snort at this, and Himeka could only smile at the expression of suspended disbelief Ami chose to adopt in reply. But when the older girl made no move to speak, Himeka continued as best she could;
"In the end, we're very selfish people, but we can also tell when we've hurt others, especially friends and family," her smile faded a fraction, "It's painful, even when the fault isn't ours, and Micchi's a good person, so he would have known."
"He really is a dork," Ami said, shifting out of the way as a couple of people walked across the bridge, "and even when I'm angry at him he just accepts it. He listens, even when I'm throwing around wild accusations, and I don't get why. Why people like you can even stand being around people like me."
Himeka reached out to pat the other lightly on the shoulder, "Because we're human, no matter what anyone says, and those close to us will be the most hurt when these things happen."
Giving her hand a light squeeze before letting go, Ami glanced up at the sky, "Then we're all fools. It really is frustrating."
But she was smiling, perhaps from a memory, or some form of revelation. Himeka could only remain seated beside the older girl, as the surrounding noise continued to wash over them without pause.
The whirl of engines, the rise and fall of voices, the barest hint of a breeze as water flowed beneath them; they all merged into one, neither more important than the other. Then quietly, the sound of a heartbeat before Ami jumped up, insisting that they continue their impromptu tour before the day was through (or at least until Michiru realised Himeka had been 'kidnapped' by his childhood friend). Her offer was accepted with as much grace as Himeka could muster, laughing as she was pulled back to her feet.
Life was good, after all, and they could do nothing more than face it; as long as they strove to move forward without hesitation, one day unanswered questions – fears, frustrations; everything around them – would make sense. Until then, this was all they had.
