Time for some romantic angst, because why not =P These kids really have issues, let me tell you, but I suppose that's what planning a Killing Game does to you.
In any case, enjoy!
He was waiting in the same seat in the lobby that he always sat in, underlining just how much of a habit it had become. It was reassuring to Mizuki as she came out and crossed over to him, under Oshino's watchful eyes.
"Not too bored, I hope?" she asked by way of greeting.
Mokomichi looked up and got up, tucking his phone in his pocket.
"Nope," he said. "Not at all. Hello there, Oshino-san."
Oshino simply nodded at Mokomichi, and Mizuki stifled a smile. She was sure that, the older man's reservations aside, that he liked Mokomichi a fair deal. In a different world, she would have invited him-and maybe even Aki-over to dinner with the two of them, so they could all get to know each other. Of course, she suspected that in that different life that Mokomichi would also leave at the end of that warm, candlelit evening. In a happier world, they wouldn't need to live together. She knew that, and she knew that Oshino knew that even if he had no understandings of why it was clear her world wasn't a happy one.
Oh well. He will just have to find a way to deal with it. Now more than ever, I can't carry on in an empty home. I just can't. The two of them left, grasping hands only once they were out of the building, heading home.
"Apparently Taki Ichihara's woken up," Mokomichi told her as they walked. "A couple of days ago, but he was still groggy. "
"Has he said anything? About what happened?"
"Only asking for his girlfriend." Mokomichi replied. "And apparently, he wasn't able to tell anyone anything-not the police or staff, not his mother, not anyone on the Student Council."
"The Student Council have visited?" she asked.
"President Nomura did," Mokomichi shrugged. "Apparently. Worried about him blaming the school or something."
This, she knew, was a result of articles digging into some of the 'milder' allegations on the Despair's Descent page, as well as certain former students speaking up against mistreatment and pressure to conform to Talents and sacrifice other things in the process. It had made it clear that the problems in the school were not just restricted to the Reserve Course, which was gratifying, in a way. Another push towards meaningful change. She'd instructed Azuki to try and reach out to those people, and perhaps get a video made of them giving an extended insight into their experiences-no rush, though, considering it was the holidays and he was actually overseas visiting his father. All the same, she was looking forward to seeing the results of that.
"Perhaps I should visit him, if he isn't discharged. Perhaps after you have left to see your parents. It will give me something to do."
She said this with a smile that belied her feelings about the matter. Apparently, since high school, Mokomichi's parents spent most holidays travelling while he spent most of his in his own apartment, and while this had been the case already so far, they'd wanted to see him for the New Year this year. She'd told him that he should go, that of course she should go. Mentally patted herself on the back for it, because of course in a normal, adult, life there'd be times when one or the other had to go somewhere overnight separately. She wasn't dependent or anything. And yet. And yet.
There's still that…but it's only been a week or so, and I was irregular when Mum and Dad died, from the stress. It could be that, but…
"Mizuki?" Mokomichi asked, concerned, jolting her out of her thoughts.
"Sorry, sorry." She shook her head. "Even if we did take a little advantage of it, it's awful what happened to him. I feel kind of responsible."
Mokomichi nodded slowly, and squeezed her hand briefly. They reached a crossing and waited for it to show the green man, which seemed to be taking an unreasonably long time.
"So, what have you been up to all day?" Mokomichi asked. "Were there urgent things that needed sorting?"
"Not urgent as such," Mizuki said. "But I wanted to make sure all my affairs were in order before we began things, you know. Make sure all the ongoing projects are where they should be, and release some from my control."
Mokomichi regarded her quizzically at that.
"Why?"
"They're…when everything happens, however it unfolds…they're going to say all sorts of things about us. Aren't they? And some of it…well, some will be fair enough, won't it?"
Mokomichi pursed his lips, but made no comment, instead nodding and inviting her to go on. She took a deep breath. She couldn't blame him for this reticence. She felt it too.
"But…they'll probably attack all this, too, right? All the good things? I don't want people and places that have could have been helped to go without, just because that help came from something related to me. I don't want to taint the good things. So, if I remove it from my control, as much as possible, then that association, hopefully, will reduce. And if all goes wrong…then at least there'll still be something, you know?"
"Yeah."
"Of course, the balance is making sure it doesn't look so sudden it sparks suspicion." Mizuki sighed. "Oh, the light's gone green."
They rushed across the road, and continued on their way, meandering, looking into shop displays so prettily arranged in their windows though not stopping to take a look inside the shop itself. Not with things to do at home, and time to make the most of. But the worry she was holding in the back of her mind was still there, intruding ever more. Her plan had been to simply find out for herself once he had left, and then tell him after if need be. If it came to nothing, then of course, he'd need not ever know.
But that wouldn't be fair. And truthfully, I'm scared. Not even for the reasons that people would be scared, in a situation like hers. Or maybe not fully. But she was scared, and though she could deal with scared for everything else, she couldn't deal with it for this. For something that could change the thing that helped her keep all other fears at bay.
I have to wonder at what I've become, Mizuki thought as she spotted a chemist's up ahead and started to slow, but in the end, it could be worse, couldn't it? I could just not care anymore. But even so…
They got to the chemist's, and she dragged to a stop by the door, and let go of Mokomichi's hand.
"Mizuki? Did you need something from here?"
"I…" She could hardly blurt it in the street, not like this. "Yeah, I'll just be a minute. It's…."
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm late."
Alright, perhaps I can just blurt it out. Her cheeks heated and she looked around, but luckily there didn't seem to be anyone too near. Mokomichi stared at her for a long moment, blank for a moment before comprehension dawned.
"Are you sure?"
"It could be stress," Mizuki said hurriedly. "Or just, something else. But I have to be sure."
"I'll get it for you."
"You do-"
"Wait here."
Mokomichi didn't wait, instead going past her and into the chemist's. She thought of following, of insisting, but she didn't want people to talk or wonder. She didn't care if they recognised her or anything like that, she just didn't want them to know that somewhere in their immediate worlds, such a story was possibly unfolding. She moved a couple of steps to stay out of view of the window and waited, watching the people go by, counting down the seconds, each one feeling like an hour until finally he came out with a striped plastic bag.
"There….were no problems?" she asked.
"Nah," Mokomichi shrugged. "Truthfully the person at the till looked like he was just counting down the minutes until he was free. He wouldn't have noticed if there'd been remarkable dwarfs with flowerpots on their heads, dancing down the aisles."
Mizuki snorted at that, before remembering herself.
"Thanks. I'll pay you back."
"No, it's our problem. Not just yours."
A problem, huh? She supposed it was, for so many reasons that they were not even worth listing in her mind. She knew how life was supposed to go, and things like this were a sign of irresponsibility. For the first time, it felt like Oshino actually had had a point, during that conversation on the Artificial Beach. Even if they had not been in the middle of what they were doing, the time for heirs most certainly was not while she was in school. And she would never, ever have imagined that one day, she'd be the type of girl to get into this sort of situation. She wondered, as they walked home, what Mokomichi was thinking, whether he was having the same sort of anxieties. She knew his parents didn't know their living situation, having only been mildly interested in him being in a relationship, and pleased it was her. She didn't want to ask. It was enough that he was calm, that he hadn't pinned the blame on her, was still holding her hand.
What would Mum and Dad have thought of me, in this situation? This is not how they have raised me.
Mizuki gritted her teeth at the thought, then forced herself to relax, trying to fight the bitter impulse to think well, they aren't here anymore, are they? Trying to remind herself that while that was true, it was also true they'd raised her to be resilient. To be able to solve things and not crumble in a heap. And she was sure that whatever happened, whatever it turned out the answer was, they would have helped her. She just had to imagine that.
The moment they got home, she took the bag from Mokomichi, and barely paused to shrug off her jacket and leave her bag with her shoes by the door before heading to the bathroom. Still standing, she read the instructions on the long slim box, and found herself wondering-Mum, how was it for you? She pictured herself as a little girl, walking down the street and chatting to her mother, looking up into the green eyes she'd inherited, framed by the black hair that she hadn't and above all, that fond smile. There wasn't any doubt that Mizuki had been very, very much wanted and way beyond the practical reasons that came with the label of 'heir'. Never, ever, had she doubted that. Yet, she'd never thought to ask anything about how she had come into the world. Had they been trying for a long time? Was she a lucky early success? Had they been taking a wait-and-see approach? Looking back, trying to filter through the millions of fragments of memories, she couldn't be sure. There was nothing that she could grasp at that would answer that question for her.
I wish I could ask.
Mizuki sighed and shook her head, and tipped the test out of the box, double checked the instructions and followed them to the letter, taking no more than a few minutes. Yet, in those few minutes, as she wondered about her own mother and what she'd felt all those years before when Mizuki had only ever been an idea, a person in progress, there was a part of her that begin to wonder, and hope, that maybe, just maybe…
And then the test beeped, and the answer displayed itself clearly across the screen
Negative
…
Mokomichi jumped when Mizuki came out of the bathroom, not realising how tense he had been while waiting.
"Well?"
She shook her head, quickly.
"Negative."
The relief rushed through him, and he let out a breath. Oh, thank goodness. Things could have been so much different, and he hadn't much liked any of the possible scenarios that could have resulted. But this way, it was over, and all they needed to do was be careful, and then they would be-
His happiness drew up short as he realised that Mizuki didn't look nearly as pleased by this as he was. Instead, she just stood there, looking at him. Not crying, but seeming close to it.
"What? That's what we wanted, right? It's a good thing."
"No it's not."
"You can't possibly mean-"
"No. No, not that-but don't you get it?"
Mizuki sounded almost hysterical, her voice rising up a notch with each word. She ran a hand through her hair, mussing it.
"Don't you get it?" she asked. "What it means?"
Mokomichi shook his head slowly, frowning at her. Mizuki let out a frustrated noise, somewhere between a growl and a sigh and then shook her head.
"There is no forever," she insisted. "That's what it means. The things that we're wishing for, we can't have them, not like this. Not when everything ends."
Mokomichi rubbed his face tiredly. Everything was fine, wasn't it? Yes, they'd had a scare, but surely the lesson had been learnt. He most certainly was not about to forget it in a hurry any time soon. So couldn't they just shrug it off and move on? He didn't understand this reaction at all.
"Mizuki, it's fine, alright? Everything is fine, let's just not worry about it."
"Wor-"
Mizuki's eyes flared, and instinctively Mokomichi realised he'd made a mistake, somewhere. But his brain scrambled, and couldn't work out why. He tried to think of something consoling to say, but then Mizuki pursed her lips and shook her head, becoming cold.
"You know what, never mind. I'm going to make lunch, so you'd better come soon."
"Mizuki, wai-"
Of course, she didn't wait.
…
It was an alien concept, the two of them floating around each other, like isolated islands. Even when they had been in different parts of the flat, doing their own thing, there had been a sense of togetherness. Not so now. Once lunch had been done, she'd made a point of hiding in the bedroom with her laptop for a while, and then after a while, she'd switched to the desk and not said a word. Mokomichi had been studying, or something or other-she'd made a point of not looking. It was petty, and unfair, and all on her. But she was too stubborn for her own good sometimes, and her awareness of that was not the first step to solving it this time. So she buried herself in work for Teranaga Trade and the Teranaga Foundation, continuing what she'd started on-site in the morning.
Occasionally, though, she checked the group chat for any updates from those of the others who were completing tasks. From time to time, there were also stabs of goofiness, but these were few and far between, having rapidly reduced after Sho's death. She'd never really participated in those, but she'd always liked reading those silly moments, like:
Kaneda-sempai: What's your blood type, by the way?
Shinonononono: How would I know?
Azuki: How would you not!?
Shinonononono: Who am I, Karl Landsteiner, discoverer of blood groups?
Azuki: You don't know your own blood type but you know who discovered them?
Despite her mood, she allowed herself a smile, and then decided to send a message praising the pictures of the set-up efforts that had been earlier up in the chat when Sosuke sent a message.
Sosuke Mori: The Towa City police department are issuing a press conference in relation to what they are calling the Centenary Crimes. It will be livestreamed on this website in about half an hour.
He had then sent a separate message with a link. Mizuki quickly went back to finish the email she'd been in the middle of, then sent that off and opened a new tab. Carefully, she typed in the web address, and watched as a page on the Police website came up, with a little countdown in a black box stating exactly how many minutes and seconds there were until the stream was due to start. Mizuki made a note of it, then switched tabs and continued what she was doing. Time went by, and eventually, just as the time for the conference came, Mokomichi wandered into the kitchen, looking for a drink.
"Did you see the message about the press conference?" he asked her idly.
He wasn't looking at her, but all the same Mizuki got the sense that he was studying her. She took a breath and then answered.
"I have the page up on my laptop."
Mokomichi nodded to himself, finished fixing up his drink, and came to sit at the table. She pushed the laptop over, carefully, so that it was between them and they watched.
On the screen, three members of the police force were sitting. The one in the middle was the Chief of Towa's police force, Chief Ishitaka, while the other two were from the media relations department.
"Good afternoon," Chief Ishitaka began as cameras flashed. "We have come out here today to provide you an update on the state of the Centenary Crimes. We first off want to assure everyone in the community, including the families of the missing students, that we are all working around the clock to find them and to apprehend the culprits behind this. There are a number of leads being followed, most significantly into the online group known as 'Despair's Descent'. The identities of those behind the group have not yet been identified, but we are reasonably sure that they are somebody who is currently at Hope's Peak, a recent graduate or someone with easy access to the school-we will be taking questions soon, please wait a moment."
The reporters who had put their hands up sheepishly put them down, but Chief Ishitaka waited a moment before continuing.
"We are also taking a closer look at various negative incidents that occurred earlier in the year, including the two suicides, as possibly having connections with Despair's Descent, particularly with the implications that Riko Izumi may have been an early accomplice. As such, we are also looking into various people who have previously spoken against Hope's Peak in public forums for any possible leads. Now, to Detective Hanasawa for a few words on Taki Ichihara."
The media relations detective on Chief Ishitaka's right nodded and cleared their throat before beginning, and camera flashes intensified.
"Ichihara-kun is thankfully making a remarkable recovery considering the extent of his injuries, and has now been released from hospital into the care of his family. His location is being kept private, and we ask you to respect his and Fukuda-san's privacy as both of them continue their recoveries. While both students have been cooperative, they have no new leads to give us except for the fact that the culprits are most likely young and fit, thus lending credence to the theory that they are students, either at Hope's Peak or even former students currently at university. The fact that no more disappearances have been reported over the winter break thus far makes this a lot more likely. We ask all Hope's Peak students, regardless of course, to remain vigilant even so, and to make sure they do not travel alone once back in school in the New Year. Back to Chief Ishitaka."
Sosuke Mori: The Fukuda family are looking after Taki Ishihara and covering his continuing medical costs. I believe his mother and older sister are visiting on a regular basis as well.
Mizuki looked down at the message momentarily, but still remained listening.
"Yes," Ishitaka nodded. "We are hoping that from the many leads we are pursuing that something should be found soon. Now, we will take questions."
Instantly, hands went up, and people started clamouring, and Ishitaka looked around before selecting a representative from a well-known national newspaper.
"Would you say at this stage with some of the earlier disappearances you will be looking for bodies, rather than the safe return of the students? After all, with every day that goes the chances of returning alive get lower."
"While we are prepared for that eventuality, we still have hopes of managing to rescue at least some of the missing students. Nonetheless we will be searching woods and rivers, while also retracing any last steps. Next question?"
Looking up with a start, Mizuki realised the person that has been selected was none other than Shuuhei Murayama. Whoever was manning the livestream camera also seemed surprised, as they zoomed in momentarily on him before going back again.
"Are you looking at Reserve Course students only, or Main Course students too in terms of the disappearance? Because although the focus on Main Course suggests that it is a Reserve Course student behind all this, Riko Izumi was Talented as well and there have been former Talented alumni now speaking out."
"Our persons of interest are from both courses, though as they are not yet suspects we will not be giving out their names."
"Would Fumiyo Doux count as one of those? He has been speaking out all year and even revealed those controversial videos?" another reporter from a main news channel called out.
Chief Ishitaka gave this reporter a cool look, but then nodded.
"Yes, he would. However, he has been cooperating and the current line of thinking is that Despair's Descent are using his videos and social media posts as justifications for their own work. We are also investigating the claims he has made as concurrent to these investigations, as they may speak to motive of the culprits."
"Have you made any progress on those other investigations?"
Shuuhei jumping in earned another cool look, but Chief Ishitaka nodded.
"We have, but to preserve the integrity of the investigation we are not revealing any leads at the moment."
More questions were asked, some with some semblances of useful information, the others nothing new. Mizuki made a few notes, both mental and on a sheet of paper she had at her side, before firing off a text to Azuki to ask him more about the interviews he had had. Considering he was currently on the other side of the world and given the way Chief Ishitaka had described him, she didn't think there was too much to be concerned about. But all the same, it was a piece of the puzzle and they had to make sure that none of the others were found. She didn't check to see what Mokomichi was thinking or doing, and he didn't say a word either.
Then, Chief Ishitaka chose another reporter to ask a question, and this one seemed a little different as he stood up. Calmer, not particularly excited or curious, something thoughtful in his expression, as if he was carefully considering everything before taking a step instead of just rushing in. The name wasn't one she recognised, and the newspaper he was with apparently a tabloid of sort. Huh, I wonder when that newspaper joined this press club. In any case, that newspaper was what she would have expected from someone with such a level demeanour, but Mizuki didn't let herself get distracted by that as the reporter cleared his throat and asked a question:
"Sir, will these 'Despair's Descent' now be regarded as a terrorist group."
Mizuki sucked in a breath, and it seemed as if everyone in that press conference seemed to do the same, almost at the same time. She flicked her gaze sideways at Mokomichi, watching the proceedings intensely, his eyes almost hooded. Quickly, she turned her attention back to the screen as Chief Ishitaka began his answer.
"Although nobody specific has been found responsible, nor are their end goals clear, it is known that they are specifically targeting a specific institution and everyone and everything relating to it, and that they intend to cause further harm in the future. Therefore, yes, we are now considering them terrorists."
"And will you be investing extra resources into investigating them before another young person disappears?" the journalist asked.
"It goes without saying," Chief Ishitaka said curtly. "Now, are there any other questions?"
Hands shot up, even as some of the journalists got up, clamouring for leads, for anything else that they could possibly be told. Mizuki had had enough, and closed the tab, thereby exiting the livestream.
"So, we're terrorists now, are we?" Mokomichi mused quietly.
Mizuki sat there, not moving a muscle as she stared at her email inbox without really seeing what was there. Terrorists? Us? Oh, god. If anything, it made the unexpected grief over that negative test so much more stupid. But if anything, it made it worse. I suppose it's a good thing I'm tying up loose ends and making projects self-sufficent. I'll have to make sure to do a bit more of that once term begins again.
"They would expect us to react to that, wouldn't they?"
Mizuki's brain felt old, and creaky. She had to dig deep to find the words to respond and when they came out they sounded dusty, unfamiliar.
"They would, yes."
"We could title a post like that 'So, we're terrorists now, are we?' make a point that how it has taken us for them to care."
The statement sounded unfinished, and Mizuki peered over to see Mokomichi tap his fingers silently against the table in thought. Then, they stilled and he met her eyes.
"So, shall I ask Yanagi-chan to write it?"
Mizuki nodded numbly, hating herself for the urge to flinch and turn away, the unfairness of her reactions magnified. None of this was his fault. He was more right than she was-they'd been pretending, right? And now, reality had called. But sometimes being right was nothing against the debris of shattered dreams and she still felt like that she was stepping through them, barefoot, the shards making her bleed relentlessly. Besides, one thing she was right about, was that there is no forever. If Mokomichi had accepted the reality of their fragile-glass lives, why didn't he feel it too?
"Yes, do," she said brusquely. "but make sure that she says one particular thing."
"Which is?"
"That we wanted to help, all along. Let them call us what they want, but tell them to remember that when it comes down to it, all we wanted was to help."
The look he gave her at that, she hated it. Or rather, wanted to hate it. How was it that he could understand that so instinctively, but not this thing which now loomed like a tiny ghost? She shook her head.
"In any case, at least now we know where things stand with being found out. Can you see if the others watched it and if they picked up on anything we may have missed? I'm going to continue with this."
And as she turned back to her emails, focusing on them properly this time, she pretended not to see the flash of hurt in his eyes.
…
Later in the evening, Mokomichi saw Mizuki disappear over to the family shrine. He thought of going over to her, but hesitated. He wasn't sure if he could face another cold shoulder. At least she was talking to him now, which was an improvement, so maybe all she needed was time. But the entire thing baffled him. A negative test was exactly what they'd both wanted, he was sure. He was still sure. But there was something else missing, and he just couldn't understand it. He wished he could understand it.
He looked over at the recipe he was following on his phone, to double check he was following it correctly, and then continued with that night's dinner preparations. Idly, he looked at the picture of the finished meal on the webpage, wondered how he could rearrange it to make it look nicer, by way of silent apology. He imagined, that when they were adults, he'd probably buy flowers if ever they had a serious spat like this one (though he hoped they wouldn't). He wasn't about to leave, though. Perversely, even if she was still prickly, he didn't want any moment without her, not when he was leaving the next day.
As if it's such a long time, he scoffed to himself, it's just because you're hoping that somewhat contradictorily, you being around is helping. He shook the thought away, and concentrated on dinner. Once it was all done, he let it cool on top of the stove, and then began to clear up. As he scrubbed the pans, he heard Mizuki leave again and he turned, holding his breath. He counted to five, then closed the taps, wiped his hands on a tea towel and quietly padded over to the area.
Mizuki had lit incense, but he decided to do the same anyway. But when it came to a prayer, he didn't know what to go for. In truth, he wanted to think of something to ask. He had no expectation of hearing an answer, but he wanted clarification. He looked at the photographs of Mizuki's mother and father, marvelling at how easily he could see which of her features she'd inherited from which parent and how somehow the end result was so different. Looking at his own parents, apart from their colouring, it was not so easy to tell. He certainly hadn't inherited any more internal traits from them, either. They were like strangers, really. But Mizuki, and her parents…even with the nostalgic cast grief would have cast over the descriptions she'd given to him, he knew it had been a different story. Hiroshi, Reiko, and Mizuki. It's a disparate set of names, on the surface you'd never imagine to be a unit, unlike Dairoku, Momo and Mokomichi. And yet, in the end, they were the ones that were really a family.
Wait. Family.
It hit him, just like that. Let's pretend, they had said when they'd untangled their feelings that September morning and decided to be together. Had she been missing them, and wondering what it would be like if she had begun a new family, one in which she was parent instead of child? Playing with the idea, pretending. He recalled a photograph that she'd shown him once, some formal studio thing where she'd been about four or five, wearing one of those poofy silk dresses all little girls seemed to get dressed up in, beaming with both her parents' arms around her. The dress was green, he remembered. Had she imagined a little girl in a poofy silk dress of her own? Or maybe a little boy wearing….he paused, unsure quite what the boy equivalent of such an outfit was. Suits, in comparison, weren't nearly as fun, not for a kid. Maybe they'd be extra-progressive and let him wear one of those instead.
"Can I blame her for that?" he asked the photographs in the shrine. "I can't, really."
He knew, as he also knew that she knew, that even if it had come to be, it simply couldn't have been. It was not something that they could pretend at, not truly. Only imagine. But that small moment of imagination must have hurt, as it did now, with new images running through his head. He bowed at the photos briefly, then turned and snuck back to the washing up before Mizuki noticed and wondered and came looking. He had clarity now, but somehow it didn't help.
It couldn't, unless he found a way to reach out.
…
The room was completely dark and Mizuki was resolutely turned away from him when he climbed into bed, and she didn't react even when he lay down. Staring at her back, Mokomichi found himself no clearer on how to proceed, to bridge the gap. But he had to try. So he lay there, watching her, letting different thoughts rise to the surface of his mind, weighing them up. When he finally thought of the right words, he had to swallow a few times before he could manage to express them. But finally, he managed it, in a hesitant whisper.
"'Ayumi' would have been a nice name, don't you think?"
Mizuki drew in a breath, but she didn't turn towards him. He wanted so badly to reach out, but didn't want her to shrink away. He took a breath of his own, and waited, until eventually a tear-choked whisper responded to him.
"Ayumi Yamashita."
"Not Teranaga?"
"You wouldn't have minded, changing your name to mine?"
"Ah, well." Mokomichi half-laughed. "My name's not as important as yours."
"You're an only child."
"I could have talked my parents around, I'm sure. But…a nice name, right?"
"Mmmmm. What about a boy?"
"You choose."
There was no immediate response this time, and Mizuki curled in a little tighter, still away from him, but then:
"Fumiki."
"Ayumi, or Fumiki. Or maybe, one day, there may have been both?"
Mokomichi, Mizuki, Ayumi and Fumiki. That, too, was a list of names that sounded like a unit. Like a proper family.
"Maybe…."
"A girl and a boy, your eyes and…maybe my hair. Or maybe yours, or some brown that's a mix of the two…"
"Your eyes."
Mizuki turned over at this, and even through the dark her eye contact could be intensely felt. Mokomichi just nodded. He liked her eyes better, their vivid, soulful green. If ever there was a chance of those being replicated, he'd have preferred that. In the fragile picture of two children that he saw forming between them, they had green eyes. But if she wanted to imagine them with his eyes instead, there was no harm done. What did it matter, when all it was happened to be little more than a dream?
"Fumiki and Ayumi," Mizuki whispered. "We could have loved them, right? We'd have been good parents, if there was the chance."
"Of course we would have." Mokomichi said.
Mizuki reached out her hands, but hesitated halfway. Mokomichi had no such worries, and grabbed her hands tightly, as if he'd never let go.
"It won't happen, though. It couldn't have happened, even if the test had been positive. I know that, I knew that."
"It could, though, maybe. In ten years' time, when it is all over. Just not now."
"No, no, that's the thing." Mizuki shook her head.
Mokomichi waited, and then abruptly Mizuki tugged her hands out of his and sat up, pulling the quilt around her. Mokomichi sat up as well, though he left the quilt. She sighed quietly into the darkness, and then hit the switch on her bedside lamp, bathing them in a small stream of soft yellow light, throwing shadows that emphasised the strain on her face.
"Even if we get clean away with this, we'll be looking over our shoulders. We're terrorists now, remember? Maybe the two of us, we'd be able to get some kind of normal, but that's no way to bring up a child, is it?"
"I suppose not."
"All of this…I don't want it to, I can't bear it to, but it's going to end, one way or another, isn't it?"
"I can't bear it, either."
After this admission, Mokomichi held out his arms, and after a moment of tired blinking Mizuki shuffled over and leaned against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and breathed in her scent.
"We should make the most of what we have, for as long as we can."
"Mmmm. But…."
"I know, we need to be careful. I don't want today repeating."
"I don't, either."
"And I…." Mizuki took a breath. "I don't want to think, okay? About the end? I just want to keep pretending, everything, perhaps apart from….from Fumiki and Ayumi. Can we just keep pretending as we have been, as long as possible?"
"That's not even something you need to ask."
Mokomichi whispered this, a note quieter than before, but Mizuki just continued to talk, concluding with an idea that made his heart stop.
"I want to keep dreaming until the end. But when we get to that end….we need to end."
Mokomichi took in a breath, lifted a hand to run through her hair, but dropped it again before then lifting it again and placing it on her back.
"So it'll hurt less, being separated…however it might happen." He stated, tears of his own starting to well up.
"Yeah."
Mokomichi took a deep breath, closed his eyes, feeling the wetness in his own lashes. No, no, I don't ever, ever, ever want this to end. I would never have seen something like this coming, but I can't see myself without it. I can't, Mizuki. Yet, I would do anything for you and you know it. And really, I would rather have run away with you instead, somewhere far away and change our names the way Yanagi-chan will be doing and pretend even more.
But I will do anything for you. Even if it's something I don't want myself.
"Mokomichi?"
"Alright." His voice came out rough, and he tried hard to soften it. "On one condition, though."
"A condition?"
"To live. If the time comes we do have to end, I'm not having you die in order to do that."
Mizuki hesitated, and Mokomichi's shoulders tensed. But then she sat up, and took his face in both her hands, leaning her forehead against his and looking into his eyes. Hers were shiny with tears too, though they didn't spill this time. His, though, did, silent and steady as he waited and hoped that this would not be too much to ask. He waited until Mizuki nodded, ever so slightly, and answered:
"Okay."
…
When they finally did go to sleep, both of them dreamed.
Of a life where everything had been more or less the same over the year, but that they did not have to resort to any of this. Where their change was being effected through exposes and interviews and nothing dodgier than covert recordings and break-ins. Where their main project ended up being the School Separation and though they did stay over at each other's it was only on evenings when they'd worked too late on the project and it would have been too arduous to make that journey home.
Of a life where it wasn't the Centenary, but Mizuki had come back after that tragic year off, to take up a title and to rekindle what had been a tentative friendship that gradually blossomed into more, a somewhat more conventional romance that took its appropriate place next to school life and work life and whatever other friendships she managed to pick up on the way.
Of a life where instead she'd come back as a Reserve Course, and they'd ended up in the same class instead and turned an acquaintanceship into love, again taking its appropriate place but also becoming jokingly known as the class couple instead. Where Mokomichi would have charmed Kaneda to ask Minah to find out how they could get to the superior view of the Main Course school roof for a picnic, amongst other date ideas.
Or a life where she'd not had a tragedy at all, and they progressed through school together, but smoothly. Where, when she realised that her feelings were beyond even friendship, she would have asked Aki for help and advice, and then have been able to introduce him to her parents.
A life where, after school was over, after they had celebrated their graduation and other successes with a restaurant meal and a midnight walk, she went straight to work and he went to university and then gradually they moved in properly. Where they had all the ups and downs and mundanities and wonders of the normal life they'd been fantasising about, with their motley crew of friends and acquaintances as part of the background tapestry. Where one day, there would be Ayumi, or Fumiki, or maybe even both of them.
They dreamed, because now they knew: that was all they could do.
…
Mizuki saw Mokomichi off at the door the next morning, bright and early.
"Stay safe, alright?" Mokomichi asked.
"Oshino-san will be walking me to the hospital." Mizuki reminded him. "After that, I'll work from home."
"I know. Just…"
When he hesitated, she leaned in to kiss him.
"I know." She murmured. "I'm….I'm sorry."
"There's nothing to be sorry for."
Another kiss, and then he straightened, adjusting the strap of his backpack on his shoulder. He looked at her searchingly, and then gave a crooked smile.
"Before you know it, it'll be 2033 and I'll be back."
"Mmm. Bye, now."
She watched him go down the corridor, and then when she could no longer see him she shut and locked the door, with the extra lock she'd bought after Taki. She put her hand against the door and sighed.
I know I promised it to you, but I don't know if I can keep that promise.
She'd not been sure, even then, but how could she say that? There was no way she could have. But perhaps it didn't really matter. It wasn't ending now, was it? She shook her head, annoyed with herself again. No, it wasn't ending now. That would not be for a while yet, and she herself had said, that they were carrying on until that end.
But for now, there were things to prepare, so she moved away from the door, and set off to do them.
