AN: A little quickie thingie I made after watching ep10. You's expression when she finally realized what was going on between Chika and Riko called for angst, and angst calls for my precious third-year baby Dia. I want these two to be happy, so let's have them make each other happy. I live for angst.
And in case you didn't notice, I'm now Daiyou trash. I love it.
I hope you enjoy.
Ciao. c:
"Dia?"
"Mm?"
"Can...I talk to you about something?"
"Of course. If it's about the idols, I can help you in any way I—is something the matter?"
"W-what makes you say that?"
You winced when Dia's cold finger wiped away a warm tear, the chilly contact shocking her away from her worries. Dia inspected the perfect bead, scrutinizing it intensely as if it held all the secrets to You's woes before looking up with a concerned expression, eyebrows knitted with worry.
"What's wrong?" Dia asked. Her voice was soft and gentle, yet her request held enough firmness to be called a demand. It almost compelled You to dive into the other girl's arms and sob. Almost.
But, like Kanan, You's pride was big and hard to swallow. She steadied herself and took a breath, just like the many times she did before leaping into the water. Her vulnerable face was covered by a stoic mask. Dia looked disapprovingly at it, her icy eyes threatening to crack it, but You held onto her facade for as long as she could. She opened her mouth to speak, but Dia's stare almost cracked it. Almost.
"You don't have to fake it," the older girl said. It was a quiet reminder, one that reminded You of a mother consulting a child, yet held the sweet flavor of tenderness in its core. You almost wanted to break everything down and reveal her own interior to Dia. Almost.
So she closed her mouth and stayed stubbornly and foolishly mute, despite approaching the other for help. It was at this moment that the silver-haired girl noticed that she held a bit of hypocrisy in her ideals; she wanted people to be honest with her, including Aqours and especially Chika, but even with all her strength, You still wasn't strong enough to be honest with the most important person: herself. This realization almost made another tear slip from her eye. Almost.
Suddenly Dia's hard stare softened with understanding, and a very, very subtle smile tugged at her lips. You recognized it as the same look she would give to Chika, reading her friend like an open book, even when the orange-haired girl didn't want to admit what was wrong. She had a lot in common with her best friend, You realized.
But one of the things they didn't share were their feelings.
Then everything broke. You's face twisted into one of pain and agony, a mirror of the heart-wrenching battle raging in her heart. Clear blood spilled from her eyes as she feebly wiped them away with clenched fists, her nails piercing her pale palms with a dull sensation of pain. Her wails, ugly and gross, filled the empty student council classroom as she sobbed, body trembling and shoulders shuddering as she heaved for breath. She had experienced many forms of pain, from bruises to disgusting gashes, but all that was nothing compared to the deep, deep wound in her heart.
"I-I d-don't get it!" You croaked, her voice cracking as she struggled for air, "W-what does R-Riko have t-that I d-don't? I-I've been with C-Chika longer, I-I've seen h-her struggles, I-I've even seen h-her at her worst! A-And I-I've supported h-her! B-but i-it's STILL not e-enough! W-What a-am I m-missing?!"
A lavender-scented warmth enveloped around her, holding her and tugging her close. You melted into Dia's embrace and buried her face into the latter's shoulder, heaving all the while. Her tight fists released themselves only to gather handfuls of Dia's uniform in a vicegrip.
"It hurts, doesn't it?" Dia whispered into You's ear. Her breath was like a blanket, coating the silver-haired girl in a comforting fondness that reminded You of Chika's smile. Such an image would have put her at ease, but when she remembered the smile Chika gave to Riko and only to Riko, You felt herself tense at the sudden chill that coursed through her body.
"I d-don't want this anymore! I d-don't w-want this p-pain anymore!" She blubbered, coughing when the knot in her throat became too much for her to fight through.
A delicate hand rested itself on her head and began to comb through her hair with its fingers. It worked out the knots with skill and precision, leaving minimal pain in its wake, until it was able to make a smooth journey without stopping. Dia continued with this motion, running her fingers through You's short hair, and the younger of the two found herself calming ever so slightly.
"I know how it feels," Dia said quietly, pulling You closer to her. "I know exactly how it feels."
You forced her sobs down her throat and sniffled. After a moment of collecting herself, she separated herself from Dia's shoulder and stared quizzically at the third-year. The hand in her hair slid down to rest on her shoulder.
"You d-do?" She asked.
Dia's smile from before never faded, and she nodded almost imperceptibly. Almost. "Of course I do. I'm with Kanan and Mari all the time."
You's puffy eyes widened a bit as she began to put the pieces of the puzzle together. "T-then Kanan and Mari are—"
"Together, yes. And I am effectively their third-wheel." Dia's smile finally fled from her face, leaving somber residue in its wake. She almost looked like she wanted to cry, You noticed. Almost.
And because of that, the silver-haired girl was hesitant with her words. "Does it...hurt?"
"What? Seeing them together?"
A burning sensation ignited in You's stomach, the familiar sensation of jealousy, as that image of Chika and Riko holding each other, holding one another's hands in the light of the rising sun flashed through her mind. "Yes," she muttered.
There was a slight hesitation before Dia answered. "Sometimes," she admitted.
The silver-haired girl looked back to the various times she saw the third-years together: while yes, they were always in each other's vicinity, You couldn't help but notice that Kanan and Mari shared a certain kind of intimacy that only involved the two of them, while Dia would watch in the distance with that gentle, yet almost sad smile on her face.
"...How do you do it?" You asked disbelievingly, shaking her head as that burning inside of her began to grow, "How are you able to handle it?"
"It's easy. It's because I love the both of them."
The silver-haired girl couldn't stop the scoff that escaped her lips. "How? It's not easy—"
The hand that was resting on her shoulder suddenly moved to cup her cheek, and You quieted down when she saw the look on Dia's face. It was the same look she would give to both Kanan and Mari, that gentle, gentle look. It took a moment for You to realize that perhaps the third-year wasn't sad at all; she was absolutely and wholeheartedly sincere.
"The journey to realize it wasn't, but when I did, everything fell into place. Being in love is to be patient and to be kind, even if you get nothing in return. So I am patient and kind, to both Kanan and Mari, because I want nothing more than two of the most important people in my life to be happy."
You tossed and turned Dia's words in her head, thinking about them over and over and over again. Then, she sighed, and the fire burning inside of her went away with her breath, leaving the ashes of a sense of peace that felt lonely at the same time.
"I think I somewhat get it," You said as she leaned into Dia's hand.
"So what are you going to do now?" The third-year asked.
"...I don't know. I want Chika to smile, but I want to be the reason."
"Everyone has those desires."
Then You saw it.
That familiar glistening in one's eyes before one began to cry. It came and went, flashing past before Dia gave the same look as before; but now, that gentle and sincere smile held onto a different meaning.
Just because Dia supported them, didn't mean that she wasn't hurting too.
"You don't have to fake it," You pointed out as she reached out to cup the third-year's cheek. It was very warm to her chilly touch.
"...I know," Dia said, allowing a singular tear to slip past her eye. As the silver-haired girl brushed it away with her thumb, a small amused smile crossed her face.
Even the perfect student-council president was a bit of a hypocrite.
Then, using her other hand You reached out for Dia's. They met halfway, their fingers intertwining in an intimate embrace. You stared at their hands, relishing in the aura of being so close to someone after so long. It warmed her up, inside and out, as if everything was frozen and Dia was the torch that was slowly, but surely thawing her from her prison.
"It's lonely, isn't it?" You asked softly.
She felt another tear slip under her thumb as Dia let out a croak of a chuckle.
"It is," she said.
And the two of them stood there, holding hands and cupping cheeks with the touch of lovers, sharing their woes and sorrows through the language of tears and embraces. They told each other how much it really pained them, how much they longed for love, and how very, very lonely they felt.
But as You buried herself into the blanket of lavender once more, she thought that being lonely with someone else wasn't so bad.
In a twisted sort of way, it almost resembled love. Almost.