A tad bit late for New Year's, but it's fine! A little one-shot to occupy the time between longer fics. I hope you enjoy!

Was beta-read by the skilled Kokodoru.

Content Warning: mention of suicide.

"I can't believe my eyes."

Though the sentence had been spoken softly, more out of sheer disbelief than in an attempt to garner any kind of attention, it was still loud enough to attract attention. Somewhat uncertain, Miku turned to face her, her forlorn expression shattering to show her own surprise.

"Luka?"

The woman nodded with a somewhat incredulous chuckle before taking another step towards the bar, where the tealette had been quietly nursing a drink, her back turned towards the room.

"Yeah."

"What are you doing here?"

"Just hanging out." Luka chuckled again, eyes downcast now that she was standing somewhat close to the other woman. She gestured to the empty chair beside her. "May I?"

"Sure."

As the taller woman sat, Miku sat up slightly but never turned away from her glass.

Luka pointed to the drink with her head. "Strong stuff, even for you."

"Heh, yeah. I guess I need it."

Miku didn't develop any further; Luka's smile slowly fell. "What, shit hit the fan?"

"You have no idea."

"Is that why you're here, on the other side of the world?"

"Yep."

Luka leaned against the bar with her elbow. "So you're telling me that it's pure chance that you're here, of all places."

"Pure chance."

"Small world."

"I suppose. You're saying that you're here often?"

"This is my go-to place," the pinkette admitted, turning to face the room somewhat.

"Even for New Year's?"

"Yeah." It was Luka's turn to keep any further details to herself.

"Shit hit the fan?"

"…Yeah. A long time ago, but yeah."

Miku chuckled and took a generous sip from her drink, but didn't say anything else. She stared at the glass, moved it to and fro slightly, surely admiring how the light played with the transparent material. Luka sighed to herself and turned to the bar as well, leaning on it heavily. She watched how Miku watched the glass, taking in her features.

She'd grown.

The taller woman swallowed past the growing lump in her throat.

"It's been a long time."

The tealette nodded. "It has."

"Ten years, now?"

"More or less."

Luka bit her lip, unable to ignore the fact that Miku just wasn't going to face her. "High school graduation… It feels like yesterday."

The other woman scoffed. "Feels like a lifetime ago."

"That, too."

Miku didn't reply, her eyes riveted to the bottom of her glass. The bartender gave Luka a polite nod in greeting before gesturing to a bottle. Luka acquiesced wordlessly. After a small shot glass was placed in front of Luka, she picked it up and emptied it in a single go.

"I missed you," she confessed.

Miku shrugged, didn't say anything, didn't look at her. She took another sip. Luka bit her lip again, finding the veins hidden in the wood of the bar before pushing her nails into them.

"Want to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?"

"About the fact that it's New Years, and you're here instead of being back home in Japan. What happened?"

Miku took a deep sigh. "It's not a particularly good story."

"So?"

"Don't you have your own friends or family to celebrate New Years with?"

"Not right now, no."

Miku seemed to digest the reply along with another, more hesitant, sip from her glass. She had started shaking a little.

"You don't have to talk about it, if you'd prefer not to," Luka hurried to assure her.

"Are you kidding me? You're my high school sweetheart. My first love. How could I not talk about it with you?"

"But we haven't spoken in ten years."

Miku finished her drink. "Doesn't matter."

"…If you say so."

With just the tips of her fingers, the tealette pushed the empty glass away from her. Luka did the same, and continued, in vain, to hope that the other woman would just look at her.

"Did you ever think we'd see each other again?" Miku asked suddenly.

Luka chuckled sadly. "Between me moving here, our bigoted parents, and our promise to simply cut off all contact, it always was more of a wish than a thought."

"Right. Well… The first summer was tough. But when university started, I met a guy. Figured I was actually bisexual and my parents would never have to know about us; it was perfect. After we graduated, we got married. He was a sweetheart."

Luka's newborn smile failed. "What happened to him?"

Miku stalled, fingered at the veins in the wood. "Nothing. Turns out I'm actually gay and my love for him was nothing but a lie and when I confessed, he turned his back on me. He phoned my parents before I got to them and as predicted, they pushed me away, too. So I got on the first plane I saw and just…left."

"…When did this happen?"

"Two days ago."

Luka's eyes darted between Miku's eyes and how her nails were digging into the wood. She saw how the tears were starting to hang from her eyelashes, how the tealette bravely refused to cry openly, how her knuckles were turning white.

"I'm sorry."

Miku shook her head. "No. I should have known from the start. It was obvious."

"Things are never obvious."

"I didn't want a kid with him. I never did. He was all about starting a family, settling down, and the thought… It always scared me. At first, I said that we both needed a secure job. Then I said I wasn't emotionally ready. Lies. All of them. I knew I was lying. I couldn't drop anchor with him, so to speak."

Luka bit her lip and rolled her empty glass between her hands. "At least you're free now."

"Free, days after Christmas and hours before New Year's."

"It's a new start. Those are always refreshing."

"I just wasted ten years of my life."

"You learned something, at least."

Miku chuckled, so gutturally bittersweet it almost startled the pinkette. "God, you're so good at finding the good in even the worst things. You haven't changed a bit."

Luka shrugged. "Some things never change."

Miku got the bartender's attention and wordlessly asked for another glass. The taller woman watched her carefully, digesting the tale she'd just heard.

When the tealette got her glass, she quickly took a sip before asking, "So, how did you cope after you left?"

"…I didn't, not really."

Miku looked at her without fully turning towards her, while it was Luka's turn to avoid her eyes. "What happened?"

The taller woman shrugged, tried to be casual about it while the lump in her throat returned with a vengeance. She imitated Miku, ordering a second drink, taking a sip and heaving a deep sigh.

"You don't have to talk about it," the tealette whispered.

"It would be fair, I suppose," Luka said with a wry smile. "We're catching up after ten years, how could I deny you the story?"

"…It's not about being fair," Miku insisted, actually turning her shoulders so that she was facing her.

"Then it's what you said earlier. My first love. Can't really hide anything from you even if I wanted to."

From the corner of her eye, she saw Miku suppress a playful scoff: Luka wasn't smiling anymore at that point, not even a little.

"So what happened?"

"First New Year's, when the clock struck twelve, I tried to kill myself."

The tealette's breath caught. "What?"

Luka shrugged, pulled up her sleeves so that Miku could see the faint scars on her wrists. "Razor blades. Turns out I did it wrong. Lucky me."

"But why?"

"I didn't know the places, the people, the expressions. I couldn't just forget you, but I couldn't talk about it with anyone: what if my parents heard? I didn't make any friends, and my folks kept spouting their stupid bigotry all the time. And then I failed the midterms. I just couldn't—"

A hand on her forearm stopped her. It was cold, but the pressure was comforting. Luka realized that she had grown tense, let out a breath.

"That was nine years ago, though. Things are better now. That's what matters."

One sideways glance in the tealette's direction was enough to let her know that she wasn't convinced.

"Yet you're here at a bar, alone, on New Year's."

"Yeah. Parents were disappointed in me. I couldn't tell them why I just couldn't deal with it all, so they thought that the pressure of school alone was enough to do me in. Cue three years' worth of insults and condescending bullshit before I managed to become independent and move out and far away. Luckily I met a few folks via support groups. They helped me keep my chin above the water throughout it all."

"Why aren't you with them right now?"

Luka chuckled humorlessly. "They're on vacation abroad. I could have joined them, but I felt like taking it easy this year." Miku still seemed skeptical, which made the pinkette laugh a bit, albeit sincerely. "Honest. It's nothing more than that. I have friends, don't worry."

Miku nodded, her hand retreating back around her glass. Yet she continued to face her, even if her eyes were downcast. "So how's life like, now?"

Luka, ignoring the sudden cold feeling left behind on her arm, could breathe a little easier. "I bought a nice little place for myself a couple of months ago. I have a good enough job so I save up quite a bit."

"What do you do?"

"I started in law enforcement a couple of years ago. Hoping to be a homicide detective someday soon."

Miku whistled. "Fancy. I never really managed to push past the 'odd jobs' phase. I make some extra cash with freelance composing, but that's about it."

"Music?"

"Yeah. I got a few hits here and there, but composers don't get nearly as much recognition as the person singing."

"Hey, that's still not bad at all. This is what you've always wanted to do, right?"

"Sure."

"Hey, congrats. I'm happy for you."

Miku chuckled. "Now if only I wasn't a total outcast from all of my social and familial circles. Then I'd really have it made."

"I'm sure they'll come around."

"Nah. My husband is a charismatic guy. I'm sure he has everybody wrapped around his finger. I won't be talking with anybody for a long time."

Luka shrugged. "Well, I'm on your side, if that counts for anything."

The tealette smiled, and for the first time that evening, despite the drying tracks of the tears that had rolled down her cheeks, she actually looked happy. "It does. Thank you."

The taller woman couldn't help but reciprocate the smile, happy that they were finally truly face-to-face, still somewhat incredulous that they had crossed paths at all. "So, what are your plans, now?"

Miku sighed, less out of sadness and exhaustion than before. "You talking long-term or short-term?"

"Why not both?"

"First things first, I need a place to stay. I'm too old for youth hostels and hotels around here charge insane rates for the holidays… I was hoping to find a few connections, maybe make a quick friend or two here, but I started moping instead."

"A quick friend?" Luka asked with a raised brow.

Miku rolled her eyes with an amused grin. "Not like that. I've been married for over five years, now. I have no game to speak of and have no idea how things work nowadays. I was counting on the holiday spirit for some generosity."

The pinkette nodded pensively. "Right."

The barman suddenly leaned between them and announced that it was only a few minutes to midnight, in case they wanted to count down with the rest of the patrons. Only then did Luka realize how busy the bar had become, and that the television in the corner of the room was displaying a large clock. The final countdown, less than five minutes left, had started.

The pinkette grinned somewhat sheepishly. "Well, while I'm sure that in this group of folks you absolutely could find a generous soul, if you're comfortable with spending time with an old friend instead, I'd be glad to help you out."

Miku had just finished her drink and was also watching the crowd. "Really? I wouldn't bother anybody?"

Luka laughed. "Nah, I live alone. After we broke up and after everything that happened, I became somewhat of an asexual hermit. With the exception of a fling or two, no relationships for me. So yeah, you won't impose."

The tealette looked genuinely surprised but didn't comment further. "Then I'd be immensely grateful. I promise I'll try to get back on my feet as soon as possible."

"Don't worry about it, take your time. I'm sure you'll have a lot to do beyond planning your next step, so no pressure."

Miku smiled, seeming somewhat overwhelmed. "Thank you."

"No problem."

As the time ticked below three minutes, Luka turned back towards the bar. Their empty glasses had since disappeared, and the crowd was getting rowdy.

"If you're living around here," Miku suddenly started, still facing the room, "Then I'd like to stick around. It would be nice to have a friend close by."

"Sounds good to me."

The tealette nodded even though Luka couldn't see, hummed a small tune to herself. Then she stood.

"Come on."

"What?"

"I want to dance."

Luka looked at the others; the last song of the year was playing, and many of the party-goers had found a partner to dance with.

"Dance?"

"Why not?"

Luka stood, but insisted nonetheless, "Well, I've never been much of a dancer—"

"I know."

The pinkette didn't protest while Miku found them a little bit of space not far from where they had been sitting and was completely unable to resist when she looped her arms around her neck. Like an old habit that never really died, Luka's hands found the tealette's waist and just like that, ten years had never passed. And yet, she felt that Miku was thinner than before, and yet she felt that strange itch at her wrists, a neverending bothering nag that once never existed, and yet everybody around them was speaking in English instead of Japanese, the lettering was in the wrong alphabet, the music was from the wrong band, the drinks were from the wrong continents, the foods from the wrong brands… So much had changed, happened, but why did it feel like it once did?

Luka let out a shaky breath, fighting tears as they tried to flood her eyes, but Miku, eyes closed and a slight smile on her lips, seemed perfectly contented. They danced for a moment or two, wordlessly, the taller woman staring at some unknown point ahead while her mind reeled.

Somehow, the fact that less than a minute remained registered in her mind, if barely.

"I want to kiss you," Miku whispered out of the blue.

"What?"

"I want to kiss you," she repeated. "I can't explain why."

"But you're married…"

The tealette gave her a sad smile, new tears pearling at the corners of her eyes. "Tomorrow I'll call home and start the divorce, if he hasn't already. In any case, our marriage is already over. It has been since I left that house."

Luka swallowed thickly. "A lot has happened…"

Miku averted her eyes, a slight blush painting her cheeks pink. "I know, so many years have passed. We barely even know each other anymore. Despite that, I finally feel… I feel like I'm where I ought to be." Her hands played the collar of her t-shirt, neither pushing or pulling. "I'm happy right now, even though happiness ought to be the last emotion I feel, and I'm pretty sure I have you to thank for it."

Luka slowed her steps. She could see the clock out of the corner of her eye but she couldn't possibly see the time, or even hear what the other patrons where doing or saying.

The tealette turned back towards her, smiling a bittersweet smile, her hands still playing with Luka's collar. Her eyes were seeking, her expression uncertain. "You— You don't want to?"

As a reply, Luka shook her head, slightly, before leaning forward and then hesitating, searching Miku's eyes for even a speck of doubt, the smallest hint of a risk that she could change her mind.

Instead, Miku closed the distance between them, letting her eyes slowly drift shut. Luka couldn't stop the contented hum that emerged from her chest, couldn't help how her hands briefly grasped at the tealette's waist before releasing, just to be able to wrap her arms around her so she could hold her close. She felt Miku do the same, wrapping her arms tightly around her neck so that they couldn't ever come apart again.

The tealette tasted of the strong booze she had been drinking, and smelled of it too, along with the hints of salt and sweat: the leftovers of her broken life and the trip she'd taken to leave it behind. And she was so light, felt so tiny the taller woman was convinced she could quite literally sweep her off her feet and carry her away. Instead, though, it was Miku who was holding her in place, pinning her down effortlessly, keeping her in the moment and in the kiss.

Only when someone accidentally bumped into them did they break apart, hazy-eyed and breathless. The room was filled with cheers: the new year had started. Miku chuckled, her hands now playing with a strand of Luka's hair.

"You're right. Some things never change."