Stifling a yawn, Mirai brought a hand up to rub her eyes, carelessly pushing her glasses up and out of the way. She blinked back down at her homework, seeing it was still only halfway completed. A quiet sigh rolling off her lips, she looked across the table at Akihito. He was already at the bottom of his page, nearly finished. Unable to will herself to finish, Mirai slid the print out away, resolving to finish it later, after she had taken a break.
Outside, a harsh wind blew through the trees, bare branches rattling against her window. Sending a glance that way, Mirai nestled further underneath her kotatsu, trying to soak up the warmth. It was nearly winter, the last of the autumn leaves being torn from their branches by the elements. And, with the coming of winter also came the colder, shorter days, often spent doing homework or reading quietly. Though, ever since meeting Akihito, she found the dark season becoming much less lonely.
"Finished?" Akihito asked curiously, setting down his pencil and languidly stretching his arms up over his head.
"I'll finish it later," Mirai replied quietly, casting a sidelong glance at the half-empty worksheet.
"I can help you after dinner, if you want," Akihito offered. Putting his things back in his bag, he gave her a quick, easy smile.
"Really?" she asked, her formerly tired eyes lighting up.
"Really, though, in exchange, you'll have to help me cook," he replied, grinning at her enthusiasm.
"How unpleasant," she muttered, though made no further objections, a small smile still pulling at her lips.
Akihito chuckled warmly, watching Mirai from across the table. Finding his happiness infectious, Mirai let a light laugh spill from her lips too, thinking the space somehow seemed just a little bit brighter, a little bit warmer.
Mirai woke to find her cheek pressed against the cool, hard surface of a table. Blinking at the blurry world around her, she picked out the red frame of her glasses, which had been neatly folded and placed beside her. Sitting up in her seat, she slipped them on, quickly realizing she was in the Literature club room. Mitsuki sat across from her, attention fixed on her book, which was haphazardly laid out across the table, pages dangling over the edge. Gaze sweeping over the rest of the room, she noticed they were the only two there.
"Where's Senpai?" Mirai asked sleepily, drawing Mitsuki's attention. Though, Mitsuki only stared back at her, ruby eyes sudenly painfully full of sorrow. Mirai cocked her head slightly, not understanding. It was only when the dreary haze of sleep started to wear away that she remembered.
Flashes of their fight played through her mind. And, finally, when she watched the light leave Akihito's eyes, her blood saber plunged deep into his chest, she knew she had made a grave mistake. There was no separating him from Kyoukai no Kanata, and she had killed them both.
Droplets splashed down onto her hands, clenched into fists, and everything started to blur. Reaching up, she ran a hand across her cheek, her fingers coming back wet. She hadn't noticed she'd started crying, but now she couldn't bring herself to stop. Tears rolled down her cheeks, dripping off her chin. Absently, she heard the sound of a chair scraping against the floor, being pushed back, but it somehow seemed so far away, so little and unimportant. It wasn't until Mitsuki had pulled her to her chest the Mirai realized what had happened.
Holding the younger girl tight, Mitsuki clenched her eyes shut, trying to will away the crushing tightness in her chest, the aching in her throat, the stinging behind her eyes. Every part of her wanted to cry too, wanted to let everything out until she couldn't feel any longer. Instead, she desperately fought to keep herself put together, convincing herself it was for Mirai's sake, not because she was afraid.
"Please, don't cry," Mitsuki whispered, her voice catching her in throat and coming out shaky. She hated how broken she sounded, knowing she couldn't assure Mirai if she couldn't even convince herself.
Despite Mitsuki's words, Mirai only found her tears coming quicker, hot, streaming over her flushed cheeks. A quiet whine died at the front of her throat, her arms coming to wrap around Mitsuki's middle. She clung to the older girl's uniform, nails digging into the back of her shirt.
"I miss him so much," Mirai murmured, her words sounding strangled in an attempt to keep them from coming out in a heaving sob. She thought Mitsuki might have said something back, but she couldn't make it out. Everything sounded underwater, swimming murkily, muffled beneath the blood rushing in her ears.
All she could feel was the clawing misery deep in her chest, tearing at her heart, her lungs, everything, ripping it all to pieces. Every time she thought of him, his kind smile, his playful teasing, his strong heart, a fresh wound tore into her flesh, marring just beneath the surface where no one could see.
Though, Mitsuki was there, holding her close and rocking her gently in a feeble attempt to soothe both of their hurting nerves, anchoring her to reality and preventing her from losing herself in the pain. Mirai supposed she might have been thankful, though it seemed much easier to drown in the depths of it all, giving up the fight to keep her head above water. Still, the comfort of a friend was nice. It helped, even amongst all the darkness.
Detaching one of her hands from where it had been latched desperately onto Mitsuki's shirt, Mirai wiped at her running nose and teary eyes, swiping with the back of her sleeve. She took in a deep breath, trying to bring herself down, put herself back together. It wasn't until she tried to pull away that she realized Mitsuki had such a tight hold on her, her own head tucked over Mirai's shoulder. She gingerly pushed against Mitsuki's shoulder, unraveling the dark haired girl from her.
Standing back up, it was Mitsuki's turn to draw in a long, shaky breath. Blinking against the heat in her eyes, Mitsuki offered a sorrowful smile. "Okay?" She asked quietly, the word coming out as little more than a watery whisper.
"I'm okay," Mirai replied, and she meant it. No matter the hurt, she would be okay. Even if Akihito was out of reach now, she would find him again, even if she had to live a thousand lives to do it.