How had it come to this?
Standing behind the school, Hanabi clenched her fingers in the fabric of her skirt. Her eyes stung, watery with tears that threatened to spill down her reddening cheeks. The wind whipped her hair up in dark waves, drifting in front of her face. The space, the handful of feet between her and Mugi, was charged with a dangerous sort of tension, almost palpable in the dry autumn air. Across from her, he leaned back against the cool concrete wall, blowing out a breath to try to calm the frustration coiling in his chest.
They had only come out here to talk, so why did it turn into a nasty fight?
"We made a promise, Hanabi," Mugi insisted, trying to keep his voice even, though his volume crept up.
"I know that," Hanabi replied, twisting her fingers tighter in her skirt.
Of course she knew that, but her heart was out of her control. As much as she hated the fact, her feelings weren't something she could manipulate and change. Sure, she could put on a pretty mask of tight-lipped smiles and docile nods. Sure, she could bottle her feelings away, push them down as deep as she wanted. But, that didn't stop the emotions from taking root in her heart, growing up like weeds no matter how hard she tried to squash them.
"You can have everything but my feelings," Mugi stated firmly, echoing their promise from months earlier.
Swallowing against the lump forming in her throat, Hanabi gave a short nod. "I tried so hard," Hanabi replied, voice shaking. She wasn't even sure if it was from anger, nerves, or hurt, but she couldn't stop it. Her hands were trembling too, but it was easier to hide.
"That's not good enough, Hanabi, and you know why," Mugi shot back, raking a hand back through his windswept hair. He moved to cross his arms over his chest, typically warm amber eyes blazing with a sort of frustration and anger that Hanabi rarely saw.
"I can't help it," Hanabi replied, cheeks flushing a darker shade of crimson. "It's not like I wanted this," she added, heart thumping in her chest. Longing settled deep in her bones, watching the boy across from her. She knew she couldn't have him, that his heart belonged to someone else.
So, why did her heart belong to him?
"You know how I feel about Akane," Mugi sighed, not sure how to diffuse the situation. All he seemed to be doing was stirring it up, his clipped comments bringing tears to Hanabi's eyes. Regardless of his promises and messy feelings, he couldn't deny that he did still care about Hanabi. Knowing his words hurt her made his chest ache and tighten uncomfortably, but what else could he do? Just like the way she couldn't change her feelings, he couldn't change his. He loved Akane. He liked Hanabi, nothing more.
Nodding at his words, Hanabi swallowed thickly and set her jaw, trying to keep her lip from quivering. "I wish I didn't love you," Hanabi murmured bitterly, tears starting to slide down her cheeks. Despite how she tried to blink them back, the tears dripped from her chin, splashing on the pavement by her shoes. Still, Hanabi stood resolutely, facing Mugi with a stubborn determination. Even crying and humiliating herself, she wasn't going to back down. She had hurt herself enough trying to shove her feelings down deep enough that she couldn't feel them any more, but they always bubbled back up to the surface. She couldn't do it anymore.
Mugi let out a breath, the anger visibly draining away as he relaxed his stance and let his shoulders fall. Stepping away from the shadow of the school's wall, he caught Hanabi's attention through the blur of her tears. He crossed the space between them in a few long strides, strong arms wrapping around Hanabi's back and pulling her tight to his chest.
"I'm sorry, Hanabi," he whispered, breath warm against the shell of her ear.
Of course he was sorry. Of course he didn't love her back. They'd promised that from the start. But, she never could keep her promises.
Tears coming faster now, hot and unreservedly dampening the fabric over Mugi's chest, Hanabi nodded gently. "Me too," she cried, voice strained and watery.
Though, no matter how much she reveled in the feeling of Mugi's arms around her, strong and supportive, it was soured by the sting of her unrequited love. Steeling herself, she unraveled her fingers from her skirt. She brought them to Mugi's chest, feebly pushing him away. Without taking a second glance at him, Hanabi turned and paced away, scrubbing at the tears that refused to stop rolling down her cheeks.
How has it come to this? Why did unrequited love follow her around like some sort of disease? First Kanai-sensei, now Mugi. It seemed to linger in her shadow, haunting her every move and dooming her to a life of loneliness and longing. It wasn't fair, or then again, maybe it was. She was just scum, and maybe tragedy was what she deserved.