A paper airplane flew from Yukina Minato's fingers.
Even as a seventh grader, she already knew her only redeeming quality was her voice, and this damning fact of hers manifested in the airplane's asymmetrical wings. She followed the YouTube video to a T, had pressed down on the creases as instructed, and yet a pathetic plane rested in her hands. Imperfect. Tarnished. To think that a kid who garnered constant praise from her vocal coaches could create something so flawed—this was why she'd leave everything behind for her music.
From there, she would reach the stage that her father could not.
Still, though.
Yukina already folded this airplane, and to attempt to make another would be a waste of paper and time. If there was one thing she'd learned since she realized her near impossible goal, it was that she must be efficient. The girl crawled across her bed. It would have to do. Settling her weight on her knees, she pulled her curtains to the side.
The summer sun recognized Yukina the moment that she slid her balcony door open. Heat blasted her, blinding Yukina with sunlight before grasping at her air-conditioned room. She winced as her eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. Summer meant that the days were longer, meaning that the sun loitered overhead, and a stubborn, gross heat persisted. The rising temperatures only served to make Yukina sweat. But cooling off was a distraction from practice. It was inefficient. Yes, that was it. She needed to stop procrastinating.
There was a short distance between her balcony and the next. And unlike Yukina's, her neighbor's door was already open. The curtains billowed from a weak breeze, as if to invite Yukina over.
Perhaps she would accept the invitation another time, if she could afford to.
Pinching the airplane between her thumb and index finger, Yukina sent a single thought along with it before flicking her wrist.
At least I still have Lisa.
Even if her dad would abandon his dreams and shatter hers, she would still have Lisa.
Yukina regretted sending the airplane into her best friend's room that day.
If there was any way to revert this mistake, Yukina would catch the plane midair, and then all of this would have been avoided. But the second that the plane took flight, she'd set their friendship down a branched path. They might have headed in the same direction, but it wouldn't be together, not in the same way that they had before.
The plane leaned to the left, and Yukina berated herself on the chance that it fell to the ground instead of its intended destination. The poor thing would soon be recycled like all its predecessors before it, used as nothing but a middleman until Yukina was allowed a cellphone. Lisa had a cellphone already, yet she insisted on making cuter, better airplanes alongside Yukina, drawing kitties and bunnies on its wings and sending them to knock on her balcony door. Lisa was the type of person to do these types of things easily.
Despite its descent being as pitiful as its folds, the plane edged the balcony railing and slipped through the curtains. It landed somewhere that Yukina could not see.
She heard a chair slide.
Though it was tempting to close her balcony door and retreated into air-conditioned coolness, Yukina stayed where she was, waiting for her friend. The summer air felt humid on her skin. If she had a choice in the matter, Yukina would shut herself inside all summer, waiting for fall to whisk the harsh sun away. Her parents had given up on forcing her outside. The only person who still worried about her was Lisa.
As if summoned by these thoughts, light brown hair poked out into the balcony. A teasing smile was already making its way onto her face. "A little birdy told me Yukina was feeling lonely, but I wanted to see it for myself," Lisa raised an arm with the airplane in hand. Her best friend had a constant lilt to her voice, as if she had a secret that she'd love to tell, as if the very thought of spilling it would make her erupt into a fit of giggles. Lisa Imai, however, didn't carry a pocketful of secrets. She only had one secret, and it was that she was more than she let on.
"It's not a bird," Yukina pulled her curtain aside to signal that Lisa should climb over.
"I don't know if I can call this a plane, though!" Lisa laughed, flicking the airplane in Yukina's direction.
"Well, it's definitely not Superman," she smiled in return, catching the paper plane in her hands and crumpling it. Unless its kryptonite was a would-be world-famous singer, then this airplane was useless. And useless things had no space in Yukina's life.
Lisa shook her head as Yukina tossed the paper into her recycling bin, before lifting a plate of cookies and a jug filled with milk. "I ran downstairs to grab these, by the way."
Yukina stepped out onto the balcony to take the milk and cookies. As soon as she did, Lisa jumped over her balcony railing and stepped atop of Yukina's, dropping down without a hint of hesitation. When Lisa took the milk jug from her once again, Yukina snatched a cookie and took a bite. It was fresh. Had Lisa baked these just today, despite the heat? She wouldn't put it past the other girl. "Thank you," she mumbled as she finished the cookie.
"Don't mention it," Lisa threw over her shoulder as she led the two of them back into Yukina's room. Yukina lingered at the balcony, watching as Lisa walked in a loose circle. The girl placed the milk jug on her desk. Her eyes stared at the manuscript paper. An incomplete composition was scribbled onto it. "Anyway," Lisa perked up, looking over at her. "what're we up to today?"
"I was hoping to polish this song more," Yukina got straight to the point, shutting the balcony door behind her and coming up beside Lisa. She placed the cookies down next to the milk. "It would be a good chance for you to practice your bass as well."
"Oh yeah? That's one ideaaa…" Lisa's voice drawled on the last note.
Yukina wasn't a stranger to this side of Lisa. Whether it was hesitation or nervousness, it was obvious that she was hesitating at the prospect of practicing. In fact, the frequency in which Lisa would act this way only increased. Yukina had suspected that final exams were the reason, but seventh grade had ended, opening a lot of free time to practice. Her hesitation did not come from school, then.
"You know how I feel about this," she inserted, feeling like she had to defend herself to something that Lisa hadn't even accused her of. "Every day that I'm not devoting myself to getting better is another day lost."
"I know that! I know that the most out of everyone," Lisa motioned for Yukina to settle down, even gesturing that they sit at her bed. She did no such thing. Lisa looked at her with so much sympathy, so much unnecessary compassion for her as she held her ground. "I was just thinking that I'd looove to do more than just practicing music with you. Like before, Yukina, you remember? We used to have so much fun."
"That was before things changed," Yukina gripped the edge of her desk.
Lisa plastered a forced smile on her face. Yukina didn't like that look on her. "I get that. I really, really do. Maybe I'm overstepping, but I'm still your best friend. And I don't like the way you're treating yourself."
It felt like someone had pressed the fast-forward button. The scene rippled and teared as video player skipped ahead, and Yukina didn't understand why the consecutive scenes weren't as she imagined. Gaining a reputation as a solo singer, forming a competent band, then joining and performing at Future World Fes. Where did Lisa fit in all of this if she didn't understand the magnitude of her goal?
They were only thirteen, but time would catch up. The days where people lauded Yukina as a young genius singer were numbered. When the attention wandered from impressed to indifferent, it would become that much harder to be recognized.
Yukina glared to the side. Her eyes landed on Lisa's cookies, fresh despite the summer heat. She must have anticipated that Yukina would call her over, if she thought to bake cookies today. Yukina felt her heart pound, and she forced herself to look at her unfinished composition instead. This was her life now. She'd sacrifice everything to stay true to her music, something that her father failed to do.
She pressed the pause button. The moment held its breath.
Did that mean she was willing to sacrifice Lisa as well?
"You are overstepping," she asserted. "This is something I've decided for myself. I hoped you of all people understood that."
"Y-Yukina, come on," Lisa laughed, as forced as her smile was. She rested a hand on her shoulder. She brushed away some of Yukina's silver hair. It was an attempt to reach out to her, when smiling didn't help and words weren't working. "I love your dad's music too, you know that, right? I want him to perform again someday, too…"
"Then what are you suggesting?" Yukina looked up from her desk to find that Lisa was struggling not to frown. If anything, it looked like she was struggling not to cry.
"I want to do things that best friends do together. Watch some movies. Go to the beach. Eat cookies with milk and talk about nothing. I see you almost every day, but it doesn't feel like it," Lisa clasped both her hands on Yukina's shoulders now. "I like our music, Yukina, but—can't we have fun too?"
In the few seconds before Yukina answered her, she considered what it would be like if she agreed with Lisa. Would they watch movies in the living room, sharing the plate of cookies and dunking them in milk until the cookies threatened to crumble? Would they have fun? Would Lisa be happy? The girl stared at Yukina, hanging onto every word of hers.
Then she imagined losing time spent on honing her skills as a vocalist. The gap window to stand out among everyone else would close, and then Yukina would lose the opportunity to do great things. Soon other talented teenagers would find their voices, and then Yukina would be another singer among many. She would've captured the hearts of many, but most of all, she would've been able to convince her dad to take the stage once more.
The very thought that she could lose that chance because her best friend wanted them to have fun? It was too much to ask. To her, it was the same as asking her to give up her impossible dream. It meant Yukina would admit that her dad would never steal everyone's hearts with his voice ever again.
And that—that was something that Yukina was not ready to accept.
Trying to hide the quiver in her voice, Yukina made her choice, "I'll chase my goal on my own, if that's how you really feel."
"Can't I still play bass with you?" Lisa asked in a small voice.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the look on Lisa's face. Unsure, confused, it was like Lisa couldn't believe this was happening. But she knew how important this was to Yukina. Maybe she didn't understand her enough. Yukina would have to convince herself of that, to make the decision for the two of them.
"Halfhearted feelings like yours won't last," Yukina raised her chin, breathing in deep. She knew she shouldn't be saying this. She didn't mean it. Lisa was all she had outside of singing. But it was for that same reason that having her around was so difficult. How was she supposed to focus solely on her voice, when Lisa mattered so much to her? "I need more than that to get to Future World Fes."
"You don't mean that," the girl squeezed Yukina's shoulders. She was calling out her bluff. "If you're serious, Yukina, I don't know what to do."
"Then don't make me repeat myself," she whispered. Her eyes fixated on the far-right corner of her room. "… please."
The grip on her shoulders loosened, before Lisa's hands slipped away from her altogether.
It was a mistake. Whether it was self-sabotage, or an inexplicable need to isolate herself, Yukina had done something irrevocable upon their friendship. Even if she apologized, the damage was done. She had told Lisa, her best friend who'd done nothing but support her, that she wasn't enough.
"Ahah," Lisa stepped away from her. She crossed her arms, and only then did Yukina risk looking at her, to find that the girl folding into herself. Even now, she was still trying to smile. "If you think that, then you might be right."
God. What did she do?
What she did was take something from Lisa. It wasn't the last cookie, or a homework question, or anything as concrete as that. Lisa had given her a key to her heart, and Yukina had used it to wander in, pick apart a key component of what made her heart resonate, before hanging the key on a hook and walking out. Was Yukina allowed to put those pieces back together again? After what she said, she didn't think she had the right to.
"At least you'll be able to have fun," Yukina reasoned. "You have plenty of friends besides me. All I have is my music."
"No," Lisa made eye contact with her. Her voice was confident despite everything else about her implying otherwise. "Yukina, I won't leave you. Even if I'm not playing bass for your voice, I'm not going anywhere."
"How can you still say that after what I said to you?"
"We… we aren't childhood friends for nothing, okay?" Lisa's smile twitched, but she was always smiling, even though she had every right not to. "That's all there is to it."
Yukina couldn't find her words.
Lisa was too pure hearted for her, and Yukina knew it. She shouldn't be allowed to take advantage of someone as generous as Lisa. But she was still young, and selfish, and most of all, she was lonely. Before her was a kindness extended to someone as undeserving as her. For Yukina, Lisa's kindness was as much a saving grace as it was a harrowing cross to bear.
How was she supposed to turn her away? How could she accept her kindness?
Yukina soon learned that true cowardice came in the form of indifference.
"I won't stop you," she muttered, walking past Lisa and towards her bedroom door. Yukina paused briefly to mention, "I'll get a mug for the milk," before heading downstairs.
Just out of her earshot she heard Lisa sniffle.
Any good friend would have turned around, climbed the stairs, and comforted her. It would have been the best opportunity to take back those stinging words, apply some balm to the injuries. It wouldn't undo the damage, but in the least, it would have been the start to healing. Yukina could be the reason for Lisa's smiles again. They could make music together again. Things would turn out okay for the two of them, eventually.
A good friend would have.
And on that day, Yukina wasn't one.
…
Yukina folded the paper horizontally, taking its top corners and aligning them so it formed a triangle. A crease here, another fold there, and then tearing a little piece off here—she pressed down on the half fold. With that accomplished, all that was left was to fold the wings. It'd been years since her clumsy hands didn't understand the concept of symmetry. Now, she was older and in high school. At the bare minimum, Yukina should be able to fold a paper airplane.
Behind her, Lisa sat at the edge of Yukina's bed. She strummed her bass quietly, careful not to distract Yukina from songwriting, as she hummed the melody even quieter.
It was a kind gesture, but Yukina had already given up. The paper plane in her hands was the remains of a composition that lead to nowhere. Making a paper airplane out of it was more productive than forcing inspiration where there was none.
She twiddled the plane around her fingers.
In the depths of her silence, Yukina listened to Lisa. This song had a more emotive bass section during the chorus. It wasn't demanding in a technical sense, and Yukina heard no errors as Lisa repeated a bar a few times. And yet, just like the rest of Roselia, Lisa sought to create her own sound. She wouldn't be content until they performed onstage.
Lisa continued to play. Words caught on her breath as she sang along to the chorus, unable to hold herself back from the music. And Yukina listened, happy to be the audience of one to this solo performance.
When Lisa paused in her practice, Yukina looked over her shoulder. "You've gotten your part down rather well," she observed.
"Do you think so?" The other girl looked up from her bass. Lisa shook her head, before sweeping her light brown hair over to one side. She was still focused on ironing out her technique, but Yukina could see the small smile on her lips and knew that Lisa was fighting it from spreading across her face. "I don't think I'm that good yet, but if it's coming from you, then I guess I'm getting somewhere."
"You're more than enough," Yukina stressed. For some reason, this was a compliment that she wanted Lisa to accept.
But Lisa only propped her bass up, ready to start playing again. "I thiiink I'll know when I've reached that point, Yukina. And I'm definitely not there yet. Sorry if I distracted you, though! I'll play a little quieter, okay?"
The bassist started practicing once more, and the singer didn't push. Or rather, Yukina would have gladly insisted, had she not realized the reason for Lisa's resistance to compliments.
That reason being herself.
It wound back to middle school, with an airplane in her hand and her same impossible dream. She'd come a long way since then, and still had much to learn, but if she could rewind and change a single moment, it would be that day. If her airplane hadn't flown that day, would things have turned out differently? Or was their friendship destined to disintegrate, because Yukina was too stubborn and Lisa too kind? Was it a constant, that Yukina would eventually wiggle her way into Lisa's heart and take something from her?
Because of that missing piece, Lisa didn't believe when people paid her compliments. There was no amount of convincing that could be done to make her believe her bass was on the same level as the rest of Roselia. Lisa saw flaws where no one else could. And Yukina knew she played a part in the process.
What kind of person was she, telling the kindest person that she wasn't enough?
"Lisa," she raised her voice. When the bass paused, Yukina adjusted herself so that she was facing Lisa head on. "Put your bass aside. We're done with practicing for now."
"I'm almost done with this part—"
A paper airplane glided gently until it bumped against Lisa, before collapsing on her lap.
She picked up the folded piece of paper, and both girls stared at it, different thoughts on their minds. Yukina couldn't imagine what Lisa was thinking, but she had sent a single thought along with the plane. She didn't expect Lisa to receive the message. Yukina knew that a single airplane wasn't enough to understand each other. But that wouldn't stop her from wanting to convey it.
I want to be better for you.
Apologies wouldn't be enough. She already brought it up before. Yukina had already taken something that she could never return, and even if it were possible, it wouldn't fix the chipped part in her heart. No, apologizing for the past wasn't enough, but what Yukina could do was be better, and to never hurt anyone in such a way again.
Lisa propped her bass against her bedside table. She opened her arms wide, gesturing for Yukina to come closer. "When a little birdy tells me Yukina is lonely, I can't ignore it, you know?"
"Send my regards to the bird," Yukina shuffled closer on her knees, until she wedged herself between Lisa's legs and wrapped her arms around her waist. She felt Lisa bow over her, her hands running up and down Yukina's back. She was enveloped by Lisa's warmth. Yukina pressed her cheek against her stomach, closing her eyes as she lost herself in Lisa.
"Are you doing okay? I don't mind you being clingy, hehe, but it is a little different than usual," Lisa murmured. Her hands came to rest on Yukina's shoulders.
"I simply wanted to be closer," Yukina stated.
Perhaps in the future Lisa would find a way to patch her heart together again, to make up for what Yukina had stolen. As much as Yukina would have wanted to make up for her past mistakes, she couldn't fix Lisa's problems, even if she was a root cause.
Yukina raised her head. Her hands slid up Lisa's arms, playing with her wavy hair. Eventually her fingers found Lisa's cheeks, then Yukina saw grey eyes staring back at her, and that was when she knew. Despite how much weight she shouldered on her own, despite the pain she'd inflicted on Lisa, and despite the tension that their relationship had to weather to get to this point—Yukina knew that she loved Lisa, and that Lisa felt the same.
Lisa lowered herself until their foreheads touched. Yukina closed her eyes when they did. This close, she could smell Lisa's fruity shampoo. She could feel and hear her calm breathing.
Someday the rest of their feelings would align.
Until that day came, Yukina would stay by Lisa's side.
Thanks for reading!