Notes: Any inconsistencies in tense are (mostly) intentional.

The fact that this shares a name with a recently published doujin by Nagisora Riku is also intentional.

Why can't I not write angst

Something compelled me to leave school through the front entrance that day, for better or for worse.

After practice, I had stopped by the archery building to pick up my shoes, which I'd forgotten earlier in a rare moment of oversight. The archery building was on the edge of the campus, but instead of beginning the walk home from there, I retraced my steps and found myself in the school's deserted locker room. The sunset gave the thicket of trees that lined the main walkway up to the school's entrance a pleasant orange tint. I told myself that I wanted to get a better look at this view that day, but as I've said, I'm still not sure what the real reason was.

I stepped outside and took in the view for a moment before someone caught my eye. A girl sat in the shade of one of the trees, alone. She faced away from me, and I would not have recognized her save for her red bowtie and bright ginger hair, which almost blended in with the evening background.

She seemed distracted, which gave me the opportunity to approach her. "It's not like you to wait for me, Honoka," I stated. I intended it as a lighthearted joke, which is why I was taken aback when she turned to me and recoiled slightly, her expression giving away her surprise.

"Oh! Hey, Umi-chan! I was wondering when you'd be finished." She grinned at me and I thought to disregard her strange behavior from moments before.

"I had to go back to retrieve my shoes." I carried the guilty party in one hand and raised it to indicate them. "It's a stroke of luck that I left through the front today. I usually don't if I'm coming from the archery building."

"Wow, guess it's my lucky day today!"

I sized her up. "You didn't tell me you wanted to study together. You know Mother would have let you into my house, right?"

I had turned to leave, confident that my assumption was correct, but stopped after realizing that Honoka hadn't stood up to follow me.

"Umi-chan, wait."

If I had dismissed the idea of Honoka acting strange earlier, the quiet seriousness of her voice brought it back to the forefront of my mind. I turned back to her and saw that she had an intensity of her gaze to match.

I got the hint - or rather, I should say that I thought I did. I walked the few steps back to her and sat down. I instinctively smoothed out my skirt, thankful that the morning dew had long since dried up. "What is it?"

Instead of answering right away, she blew out her cheeks in a long, slow exhale. Instead of looking at me, she focused on the line of trees opposite the ones that we sat under. Maybe she was looking past the trees instead of directly at them.

In that short time span, I had already begun to fret. It is incredibly obvious when something is bothering Honoka once it reaches the point that she cannot hide it behind her usual fearless, even reckless, smile. Usually it's concerning one of her insecurities; we all know that they're there, even if she pretends as though they aren't.

She spoke up before my imagination could run away from me. "We're friends, right, Umi-chan?"

I was caught off-guard by her question. Up to that point, she had never questioned our relationship, rough spots and all. "Of course we are. You don't need me to tell you that." A dangerous thought struck me. "Is this about me scolding you in front of the class earlier? I apologize if I -"

She was quick to wave her hand in the air, effectively cutting me off. "No, no, I think I deserved that." She chuckled drily. Hearing her half-hearted laugh made me shift uncomfortably, but I knew I had to be there for her, insecurities and all.

"Do you have anyone you like, Umi-chan?"

I was mentally prepared for a number of things, but I certainly hadn't expected this to be on her mind. So I reacted accordingly.

"Wh-what?! Where is this coming from?"

Normally Honoka would have taken advantage of my flustered state to tease me even further. Instead, she pressed on. "Hehe, I thought you didn't. You would have given it away by now if you did."

"I suppose you're right," I admitted, my face still burning from the initial shock.

"So you don't, then?" She turned to face me. It was difficult for me to read her, and this unsettled me.

"I don't."

"Ah."

I didn't have an answer to that, since I felt that she had yet to reach her purpose for asking me. Instead, we watched as the wind picked up. Orange-tinted leaves were scattered about the walkway, but now they tumbled and rolled towards the entrance. Eventually the silence began to border on uneasy, awkward even.

"Honoka, I really think you should be talking to someone else about this."

"I know, but I wanted to ask you about it."

"Why me?" I turned the little advice I could give her over in my mind and hoped it would be enough to satisfy her.

Once again, she didn't answer. I looked over to see her gaze riveted on me. She had never looked at me in that way before.

I think this was when I realized where she was headed, moments before it actually happened. The strange atmosphere, her stranger, extended bouts of silence, the frown that replaced her usual smile - all of it coalesced into one, horrifying realization.

"It's you, Umi-chan. I like you."

She said it at the same moment that my jaw dropped and blood rushed back to my face. The fact that I had just figured out that she was confessing to me didn't mean that I was prepared to respond properly. In fact, I responded extremely poorly.

"Oh." I said, dumbly. I was painfully aware of my burning ears.

She laughed again, sadly. My heart clenched. "I know, I know. It's pointless to say it. I just…" She rubbed the back of her neck, and I thought that it was harder to watch her smile through it than if she had been sad, or even crying. "I had to say it, especially before it got worse."

"Before what got worse?" I asked her automatically, to prevent any awkward silence that naturally followed events like this. I only realized later that I was rubbing salt in the wound.

"Before, like, you start thinking about boys and talking about the ones you like. That kinda thing."

I looked away. "Don't say that."

"Hehe. Just saying." She stood up abruptly and brushed off her skirt. "Don't let it worry you, 'kay?" She clasped her hands behind her back without offering one to me. "You can't help how you feel. And we're best friends, so asking for anything more than that would just be selfish of me."

I imitated her motion, and the lump in my throat fell into the pit of my stomach. "Sorry." I didn't think it would help, but then again, neither did anything I possibly could have said, save for I like you too.

She waited for me to take the few steps onto the walkway before we started the walk home. "It's not your fault."

"It's not yours, either."

"Yeah. I guess I thought I'd feel better after saying it, since it's out in the open and all."

"Do you?"

She scuffed her shoe against the brick walkway. "I don't know."

I felt awful.

A week has passed since then, and I keep replaying that evening in my mind.

My awkwardness aside, school has progressed as usual. Honoka never finishes her homework on time, I lecture her, we practice our choreography for a few hours after school. None of the girls give me dirty looks for rejecting my best friend, which is a slight relief. Word getting out about this wouldn't help in the slightest, nor would it ease my guilt.

Still, I'm certain that there's at least one other girl that knows. To my knowledge, there have never been many secrets kept between the three of us… other than Honoka's feelings for me.

Currently, Honoka isn't here; she bolted to the cafeteria the moment that we were dismissed for lunch. I turn my chair around to face Kotori's desk and pull my lunchbox out while we wait for Honoka to return. The classroom buzzes with its usual lunchtime chatter, and I know that we can have a fairly private, albeit quiet, conversation if we so desired.

Kotori seems to realize that I would rather dwell on last week's confession than attempt to conduct a decent exchange with her. Her ability to read people is not uncanny, in part because it only applies to me and Honoka, but I appreciate it all the same.

I also hope that she's willing to talk to me about it.

"Is Honoka alright?"

Kotori looks up from her lunch. She has a portion of rice halfway to her mouth. "That's a weird question, Umi-chan."

"Sorry. I'm just worried about her."

"Why?"

I give her a pointed look, since I don't want to declare Honoka's feelings for me in front of the entire class.

When she sighs and puts down her chopsticks, I know that she knows. I tense. Kotori is not the type to raise her voice at anything or anyone, but her disapproval of my actions will sting all the same.

"Umi-chan, I want to be mad at you."

I deflate in my seat. "I know I didn't handle it terribly well."

"She actually thought you would overreact even more."

I smile cautiously. "I don't blame her."

Kotori nods sagely. "I'm not mad at you," she clarifies. "You can't help how you feel."

"Ah. Thanks, I think." Secretly, I'm glad that she didn't side against me. I immediately feel a twinge of guilt as the thought enters my mind. What am I doing, thinking of myself at a time like this? I don't deserve someone like Honoka if I'm this selfish.

"Honoka-chan is a strong girl. She knows that there are other things for both of you to focus on right now, so she won't let it take over her life. She also hopes that you'll do the same."

I nod, digesting Kotori's words as I poke half-heartedly at my lunch.

"She also knows that you still love her, even if it's not in the same way."

"Gods, that girl..." I smile sadly. "What did we ever do to deserve her?"

Kotori merely shrugs and returns my smile. I would like to think that hers is slightly more hopeful. "You're wonderful in your own right, Umi-chan. She wouldn't feel this way about you if that wasn't the case."

"I certainly don't feel the part right now. Besides, is it really okay for you to tell me all of this?"

"I don't think Honoka-chan would tell you herself, but it's better for you to know. She doesn't want you to feel bad about it, remember?"

Kotori's right, but I don't get the chance to agree with her as the classroom door opens. Honoka has returned from the cafeteria, and she moves her own chair to our desk as she complains about the length of the lunch line to Kotori.

I watch her animated movements as she gestures this way and that. From her body language I could assume that she's perfectly fine, but deep down I know this isn't the case. With a quiet sigh, I tell myself that she will have to bear it, as will I.

I'm sure that this will make me sound cold-hearted, but I'm surprised at how easily matters such as these can be moved to the back burner.

Months pass. We're still best friends. Honoka tackles her new student council duties and schoolwork with a surprising urgency, and while it's a welcome change, I cannot help but wonder how much of it has to do with me.

She has done her part in trying not to worry me, but I must say that she isn't entirely successful. Her feelings are only apparent when we're alone, when I catch her staring at me for too long. She always reddens and looks away, and it's embarrassing for me, too, but I've grown accustomed to it.

I want to be there for her and tell her that it's alright, but I can't, not when I'm part of the problem. Actually, wait: I'm the entire problem. As such, I never say anything when she stares at me. I can only offer her an unsure smile, and it seems to be enough for her in that moment.

I'm guilty of many things in our relationship: being too harsh with her, failing to understand her, overestimating her ability to handle emotional problems. Now I'm also guilty of being self-centered, although this may not be anything new. It's merely amplified by how nervous I feel when I'm around her, and my heightened awareness of it.

This feeling is always followed by guilt; I shouldn't be so occupied with how her presence makes me feel when it most likely hurts her so much more, but I am unable to dislodge this instinct of mine.

If I ever did return her feelings, I would still think that I don't deserve someone like her.

The third-years graduated last spring. I'm still adjusting to the sight of Honoka sporting a green bowtie.

On their graduation day, the non-graduating members of μ's stood in a group, each of us waiting for our turn to offer our thanks and best wishes. A lot of us were crying, and I'm not proud enough to admit that I teared up myself.

It was my turn, and Nozomi embraced me warmly. She also had an ulterior motive for doing so.

"Good luck."

She stepped back, grinning widely. I was still attempting to process her weighted words of encouragement and Eli's equally knowing smile as the former student council president repeated the gesture.

With all the subtlety in the world, my eyes immediately went to Honoka. She didn't see me as she was busy talking to Maki and Rin, but I'm positive that anyone else who looked at me in that moment knew how obvious my body language was.

It's strange how someone else can know you before you know yourself. Nozomi's words to me is only one example of this, and I've been running into this issue a lot more as of late.

I had always assumed that we had put our feelings aside primarily for μ's. Now that we're disbanded, Honoka's still acting the same.

I don't know what I expected, since I hadn't given her the slightest hint that I might finally return her feelings. Still, the lull in club activities has given me the time to truly reflect on that day and its implications.

It's true that I think about it a lot, even now, but instead of simply repeating the scene in my head, I finally start to think about the whys: why Honoka has feelings for me, of all people, why she wanted to tell me at that moment (other than her stated reasons, of course), and the most daunting one.

Why did I reject her?

I was certainly taken aback by her sudden confession, but giving me more time to prepare would have only allowed me to think of a more articulate rejection than "Oh," although it would have been equally crushing. No, I'm certain that I didn't return her feelings back then.

Still, maybe it would have been better for me to say something along the lines of "I'll think about it," since I've certainly been doing a lot of that. I didn't want her to completely discount the possibility, either.

It doesn't seem like she has. Whenever I catch her staring at me, I can't help but think that she's daydreaming again, imagining the two of us together. Once I'm aware of this, the thought refuses to leave my mind, so I start to imagine it as well.

I've since realized that the image that I get isn't bad at all. I've taken somewhat of a liking to it, if I'm being honest. Picturing her smiling at me with that earnest, loving gaze that I've only seen once is bad for my heart, and it's happened often enough that I'm not sure it's merely out of embarrassment.

I want to see her look at me that way again, without the pained resignation that muddled it on that day. It's incredibly selfish, especially because I know that simply being around me hurts her, but as she said, I can't help how I feel.

It's also selfish that I've yet to tell her. I should take a hint from Honoka herself, and just say it. I think I have less to lose than she did, anyway.

We graduate in less than a year. One day after school, a rare day where we don't have any club activities, I pull Kotori aside and convince her to go shopping with me. Mostly, I need assurance that what I'm going to do is a good idea.

There is no shortage of malls and shopping outlets near our school, so I pick one almost at random.

"What are we shopping for?" Kotori asks me. It is still technically summer, although it's pleasant enough that we aren't sweating through our uniforms.

"I wanted to pick out a graduation present for Honoka."

"But we don't graduate for another six months." Kotori tilts her head.

"That's alright. Honoka's waited for me for about that long, anyway."

I wait for my words to sink in. After a moment, Kotori's eyes light up. She clasps her hands together, and her wide smile is contagious. "I'm sure that she'll love it."

Now I'm slightly more confident that I'm doing the right thing.

Honoka was speechless at first when I gave her my present, which would have been humorous if the moment didn't carry so much emotional weight. Then she started to cry. Seeing her cry made me start to cry too.

I think all these months of figuring out my feelings have caused me to turn soft. But that's alright.