Title: She Looks Like Autumn
Pairings: HotaYuu, subtlely implied AoJun
Words: 2186
A/N: so birbyonce's muse babies au is amazing and i sorta had to write something on it. any ocs here belong to .com. this story itself can also be found at .com. enjoy~
When she firsts asks you, you're too busy staring at the way her hair floats on the July breeze to hear her. It's another few moments before the sound of her voice reaches your ears, and you sputter, appropriately.
"Hello, Earth to Hotaru-chan? Are you listening to me?"
"Ny-uh, yes," you stammer out, tracing the curve of her brow as she gazes at you with undisguised disdain. She always looks at you like that, so it doesn't bother you but – maybe it does, just a little. Perhaps she catches the change in your expression – you've never been great at hiding how you feel, thanks Eli-mama – because she offers you a wry smile. It's an improvement on the disappointment, but you still feel a little sick in your stomach. Not that that's because of her face, necessarily, or, well – okay maybe it is but you don't have to admit it.
"Right, well, what do you think? We'd go well together, right?" she says, and your brain immediately jumps to – no, no, you don't need to think of that because Yuuki Sonoda is most definitely not into you like that, and you really need to stop with these kinds of thoughts.
"Uh," you manage – and how utterly eloquent a response it is. Yuuki raises the other eyebrow this time, and whilst it's a struggle to keep yourself from looking at the curve of the other eighth wonder of the world, you manage to stay focussed enough to see the smile drop from her face entirely as her expression folded into a sigh.
"I asked you if you wanted to be my Vice President when I run for the Student Council," she elaborates, much to your gratitude, "but I'm wondering if I should take back my offer, based on your impressive attention span."
You wave your hand in front of your face, trying to play it off, but for all your efforts you just earn an even more disappointed expression. It takes all your focus not to let your face droop right then and there.
"Aw, Yuuki, don't be like that," you say, nudging her with your elbow, "I'd love to. And I promise I'll take it seriously," you offer, trying to make amends. If she believes you, she doesn't show it, but as she leaves the classroom for club, you catch the hint of a hum on her breath.
Naturally, the election is a huge success. It doesn't come as a surprise to you at all – with Umi's dedicated nature and Kotori's confidence flowing through her veins, Yuuki is a perfect candidate for the position. Perhaps it's the sweeping grace and poise she walks with, or maybe it's the boundless pride in her voice when she addresses the school, but as you stand by her side as she gives a speech to thank all those who voted for her, you know that there could be nobody else.
Despite the difference in your heights, when she stands at that podium on the stage of the school hair, you feel like she's standing a thousand times taller than you ever could. You look up to her – at the way her hands tighten around the papers she'd holding when she gets excited, at the way her eyes shine when she talks about how much she loves Otonokizaka, and the way she leans all the way forwards, bouncing on the balls of her feet as if she were ready to take to the skies and fly away.
Most importantly, however – to you, at least – is the way she smiles at you when she steps down from the podium, and takes a seat at your side. You've never seen anything like it, and it's enough to send butterflies running through your lungs. You think you forget to breathe, in that moment, but it's worth it.
Your first line of duty as the heads of the Student Council is organising the budgets of each of the clubs, and you've never seen Yuuki more stressed.
"What they're asking is impossible," she mutters through her teeth as she reads over the budget requests for the fifth time that day, and you just nod because you've read it twice yourself. Her upper lip curls in frustration as the Drama Club's requests form comes to the top of the pile, and you notice the way her eyebrows knit when she reads the Badminton Club's request form. It's Aoi and Junko's club, and you can tell how badly she wants to give what they're asking for, because she's heard from them all year how hard it is to enter tournaments when they get so little from the school, but –
She sighs, resting the papers on the table and her head in her hands.
"Hotaru-chan, what do we do?" she asks, the exhaustion in her voice weighing so heavily on your andarm around the girl's shoulders, and shiver slightly as she leans into you. It's 8pm, and the bags under both your eyes aren't going away any time soon.
"Let's head home for now. Maybe our mothers can help," you say, and she nods, sighing and burying her face into your chest. It's not often you see this side of her – you wonder maybe if Aoi is lucky enough to see it more than you do – but whenever you do, it send those butterflies running right through your lungs again. You're friends, you say, but your body doesn't quite believe it, and maybe, maybe, if you're honest with yourself, your head doesn't believe it either.
Yuuki comes to school the next day with a renewed desire to work hard, and as she babbles to you about what her Umi-mama told her last night, you become even more distracted. You can't help but admire the passion in her eyes, and you mutter aloud, "Cute,". It's not intentional, but you figure she couldn't have heard it until she stops, and looks at you with that winning, smug grin of hers, and raises a godly eyebrow.
"Oh? Did you just call me cute?" she says, and your face turns an apparently pleasing shade of pink, because Yuuki leans her face in closer, all smugness and white, shiny teeth. When you try to stammer out a reason, all you release is an undignified squeak, which only further serves to fuel her smirk.
"Cat got your tongue? Or is it something else that's leaving you speechless?"
Yuuki leans in closer, and right before your foreheads touch, she jerks back, leaving you to wonder if she'd felt the heat radiating from your face.
"Just kidding," she says, but for the rest of the day there's a trace of smugness in her expression that you can't quite ignore. You pretend nothing happened, and Yuuki never brings it up again, but the memory is always painfully fresh in the back of your mind.
Thanks in no small part to the advice of your parents, as well as hours upon hours of your own hard work, the Budget Meeting ends without bloodshed. Yuuki's a far better diplomat than you've ever given her credit for, you realise, and it's just another thing about her that you've got to ponder about in the quiet moments between you two.
When the meeting ends, Junko and Aoi hang back, and invite the both of you to grab a bite to eat on the way home. You're tired, but you figure there's no point in looking it, and force a smile onto your face. Yuuki looks like she's never been more alive.
It's a struggle to walk in a group of four when the path's only big enough for three side-by-side. It's not a big deal, but you end up walking a step behind everyone else to make room. Yuuki's completely enraptured in a story Aoi's telling, and you want to respond, but Aoi's closer to Yuuki than you'll ever be, and you think that maybe interrupting isn't the best idea. Junko adds to the story with gentle gestures, and you come to the conclusion that just listening and being quiet is the best way to do things.
Besides, your head hurts a little.
The Café your senpai take you to is a small French one – it's your parent's favourite, and you've been there so many times you know exactly what to order. It has to be the parfait, and you exchange a smile with Junko when you realise the two of you share the same good taste. Aoi opts for crepes, and Yuuki takes a crème brulee. You pretend to yourself that you're not jealous when you see Yuuki offer a whole spoonful – she'd already eaten off of it, too – to Aoi, and that your chest is probably hurting because you're a little under the weather. Probably. Most likely. You keep quiet, becaue you'll probably say something stupid if you open your mouth. She notices.
"You okay, Hotaru-chan? It's not like you to be so quiet," she says, frowning – and is that concern in her eyes? Your headache hasn't gone away, and you say as much, but you think it's probably not to do with you being sick. Still, she puts a hand to your forehead, and adopts a worried expression when she draws it away.
"Your head is super hot. I think you've got a fever," she says, and takes your hand. Aoi offers to take you home, but Yuuki insists on doing it personally, and you leave your two seniors alone in the Café. Internally, you're weeping for the loss of your parfait, but you think perhaps it might not matter so much after all if you get to hold her hand.
She doesn't let go until you're at your front door, and you entertain the thought she let go because she didn't want your parents to see. It's unlikely, sure, but you can always dream. Still, you feel groggy, your chest hurts, and your head hurts, and nothing feels better than to fall into the gentle embrace of your mother as Yuuki passes you from her hands to theirs. She spends a good ten minutes lecturing them on how to look after you, as if you've never had a fever before, and she's your parent, not them. It's endearing, and your face turns a shade pinker, but that could have been the fever.
"She's definitely Umi's daughter," Eli-mama comments as she sits in your bed, and you lay back in her arms. She used to do so a lot when you were younger and sick, and Nozomi-mama would join her on the other side, sandwiching your tiny body between theirs. Normally you'd try to rush off their rampant affection, but right now, it's exactly what you need. Your mother's fingers run gently through your hair, and it's the most soothing thing in the world.
"Was Umi always like that?" you ask, and Eli-mama nods, gently.
"Umi was the worrier of the group. She could come off as stern or harsh, but she probably cared about everyone's wellbeing more than anyone," she says, her voice soft. You can feel the words on your cheek. "Kotori was the same – always worried, but she was the gentle opposition to Umi's rigidness. They balanced just right."
You snuggle back further into your mother's arms, burying your face in her hair, and think about just how much Yuuki is like her parents.
When you're better, student council work begins to wind down to a gentle pace, as opposed to the rush at the start of the year. You have less paperwork to do each day, and each day brings an extra moment where you get to gaze at her, or joke with her, or tease her. You prefer that relaxation, even if Yuuki doesn't. It's not often you get a chance to stare at those perfect eyebrows.
You're fixated on her eyes when you finally hear her calling you.
"Hey, Hotaru-chan, is anyone in there?" she says, her eyebrows curving downwards in disdain, "I was trying to talk to you about the Drama Club."
A shade of red appears on your face, but just this once, you manage to withhold the stuttering response.
"Uh, sorry. I was daydreaming," you offer as in explanation. Yuuki doesn't look impressed, "The autumn leaves are just so pretty."
This, at least, catches her attention, and you have to stop yourself from blurting out how the golden leaves match her eyes, or the soft, browns match her hair.
"They are," she agrees, tapping the pile of papers to the table in an effort to stack them neatly. "Hey, let's head home. You're obviously not focussing, and I'm done for today."
The sentiment is music to your ears, and you let her know so as you begin to pack your things away into your bag. Yuuki waits at the door, jingling the charms hanging off of it.
"Are you coming?" she asks.
You nod. Walking a half-pace behind her might not be so bad, just for now, you think. Just for now. One day, maybe you'll muster the bravery to change things, but for now? This'll do, you think. This'll do.