U

Unease…?

Her hand reaches out, bumps into her bedside table. Wrong side; she keeps forgetting. Her head turns the other way. Soft….

…Warm….

…A prickle up her spine…?

Groan. Her eyes open, just a sliver, to a jumble of grays.

"Oh! Sorry, did I wake you up?" inquires a too-loud whisper.

"…Nnngh…."

"Um, I'm just—just getting my jacket!" A nervous laugh. "Carol wants to go for a walk. It's kinda windy outside, so… yeah…."

She resists the urge to burrow into the blankets. She opens her eyes, again just a sliver, and mumbles, "Time?"

"Uh, um, four-thirty! You've been asleep for an hour."

An hour? Her body is so heavy, it might as well have been a century, or even an eternity….

"…Go back to sleep, Miku."

Too late, she wants to grumble as she stares up at their bedroom's greyed-out ceiling. Even the soft twilight induced by their curtains isn't enough to lull her back into sleep. There's something wrong; she can't—won't—go back to sleep.

"…I'll go with you," she murmurs, dragging her heavy, heavy body to sit upright.

Her head sinks into her chest, but she clearly hears Hibiki's grateful, "You will?"

"…Mhm…." Her eyes feel gritty.

"I'll let Carol know, and we'll get you a cup of coffee while you get dressed!"

Footsteps hustle out their bedroom, down the hall; voices pipe up somewhere… the living room, maybe, or the kitchen.

Unfortunately, the sounds that echo throughout the house do not reassure her this time, for there is—there is what…?

She frowns, glares at her limp hands.

Hibiki is apprehensive about something. That does not bode well, and as much as she would like to sink back into oblivion to catch up on sorely-needed rest, she needs to be present for Hibiki.

(This time, she's not going to turn a blind eye. It's a resolution, by Jove, that she means to keep!)

And so she drags herself out of bed, squints at her rumpled clothing (maybe she'll change her shirt…? Too much work. She'll just wear a sweater; it's cold enough, right?), and half-heartedly runs her fingers through her short hair.

Good enough.

[***]

Until she's out in broad daylight, she doesn't realize how exhausted she is.

Her head bobs and her eyes blink even behind her sunglasses; her grip on the thermos feels loose and her knees might give out at any second; her shoes scuff the sidewalk every other step and her shoulders nearly pitch her forward into the ground.

She's practically sleepwalking, relying more on Hibiki's chatter and Carol's interruptions than her eyesight to guide her along.

It wasn't like this, before.

Before, she'd come home, weary to the bone. She'd sleep until she felt functional again. She would wake up, clothes hopelessly wrinkled, a sense lingering that Hibiki had been in their room sometime in between, her mouth fuzzy, body still tired, but her mind fully cognizant.

Until today, she hadn't realized how much she taxed her body working overtime (needlessly, in some cases).

Her left hand brushes her stomach.

She hasn't been kind to herself, has she?

"Don't fall behind, Miku," Hibiki scolds, pausing to wait for her to catch up. A warm hand grabs her own. Hibiki's smile falters. Hibiki tries to peer behind her sunglasses, asking, "Are you okay?"

"I feel like a zombie," she admits, waving her free hand dismissively. "Other than that, I'm fine." It's the truth—really. "Besides, aren't you the one with something on her mind?" she pointedly adds.

Eyebrows skyrocketing, Hibiki sputters, "H-how can you tell? You're more asleep than awake and I haven't said anything!" Then, Hibiki's energy dims. Her right hand comes up to rub at her neck and she mumbles, "It's… I mean… not right now. Later, after dinner.

"Hold up, Carol! Wait for us!" Hibiki calls out, lengthening her strides and letting go of Miku's hand.

Up ahead, at the traffic light, Carol swings her arms impatiently.

That's right, dinner. Today they're eating dinner at a restaurant—it's Friday and she was too tired to cook earlier.

She takes a long draught of lukewarm coffee from her thermos. The sooner she wakes up, the better; she has a feeling that the prickle of unease running down her spine won't be leaving any time soon.

[***]

Unsurprisingly, Hibiki commandeers the conversation over dinner to lighthearted topics.

Dread wants to settle in her chest, but she tells herself it's going to be okay.

She trusts Hibiki.

Besides, she's properly awake now. None of that foreboding disquiet will get beneath her skin.

The walk back home, then, is more enjoyable. She keeps pace with Carol this time, coaxes out a story about that girl Carol has tentatively befriended (Leia, or something like that), and even manages to make Carol laugh with her broken German (which wounds her pride a little, but it makes Carol's eyes shine, so it's fine).

Tension, however, usurps the relaxed atmosphere when they arrive.

(Part of her—a part she tries her best to bury—resents the change.)

(But she knows it's important, somehow.)

"Uh, um, Carol…." Hibiki loiters by the front door, fiddling with her shirt collar, then utters solemnly, "Come with me, Carol. A-and you, too, Miku."

"Why?" Carol retorts, squinting suspiciously at Hibiki.

"B-because it's important," Hibiki insists, causing yet another shiver of apprehension to run up Miku's spine.

Sensing an oncoming tantrum—a default response, more than anything—from Carol, she suggests, "Let's go to the living room."

While Miku and Carol take seats on the couch and an armchair, respectively, Hibiki paces in front of them. Carol crosses her arms and kicks her feet against the armchair; Miku simply leans back and closes her eyes.

She's not tired at the moment (thanks to three servings of coffee), but she thinks Hibiki might apprecia—

"I'm sorry I separated you from your sister!" Hibiki blurts and snaps into a ninety-degree bow.

This is not a great way to start the weekend.

Ultimately, however, it's for the best that they have this conversation now. Things like this aren't meant to fester—else it would feel altogether too much like betrayal, and that is something that Carol is too young to have to endure.

Unlike a certain other conversation….

a/n:

I finally figured out what is "wrong" with my writing: there's a lot of [vague] build-up in the first half or even three-quarters of the chapter, but the resolution is hastily crammed at the very end. I'm really sorry it took me this long to realize it. Now that I know, however, I can work at being better! Maybe it won't show in this story (since there are, like, five chapters left), but in future stories I'll definitely do my best.