Chapter Twelve

"I'm starving," Sayuri announces.

"You're always starving." Michi rubs her dripping hair vigorously with a towel and reaches for her shirt. "Didn't you eat half of Kaname's ramen earlier?"

"No," she says, offended.

"Because you didn't want to, or because he wouldn't let you?"

Sayuri makes a face. "…He didn't let me. Don't laugh! And that was hours ago. It's almost dinnertime now." She stretches out on the bed, thrusting her arms over her head and arching her back, cat-like. Michi eyes her slender figure enviously. She's long since figured out that shoujo heroines, unlike the rest of them mere mortals, can eat constantly and never gain an ounce. It's one of the unspoken laws of this world that irks her. She prods her own stomach self-consciously. She's never really thought about it much before, but Mom's started making pointed comments about eating healthier, and her clothes have been uncomfortably tight these past few months.

"Did Jirou say anything about dinner?" Sayuri asks, sitting up again. Michi shrugs. "Takeout, probably."

Sayuri sighs longingly. "I want fried chicken."

"That's only for holidays, silly."

"It's a holiday, isn't it?"

"This one doesn't count." Michi gives her hair one final rub and combs her fingers through the damp strands. Her hair's finally grown out past her shoulders. She's tempted to cut it again, but part of her wants long hair like Sayuri's. "If you ask Jirou, he'll probably get some for you," she adds.

Sayuri giggles. "Yeah right. He'd just tease me."

"Nagisa would side with you, though."

"That's cause Nagisa likes food even more than me."

"What about Tatsuya? He would definitely get you fried chicken any day of the week." Michi sits down on the other side of the bed. "He makes these big mournful puppy eyes whenever you're sad. He would probably buy you a whole bucket of fried chicken." She grins at Sayuri, expecting a laugh, but Sayuri has an oddly serious expression. "Tatsuya would do that for you, too," she says, her green eyes clouding.

"Oh, he wouldn't," Michi says lightly. Sayuri shakes her head. "He would," she insists. "You're his friend, too."

"I mean, yeah, but that's different."

Sayuri tilts her head. "What do you mean?"

"Never mind." Michi shifts. "Come on, let's see what's for dinner."

Sayuri doesn't move. "You know, even if you and Tatsuya had a fight, that doesn't mean he doesn't still care about you."

Michi blows out her breath. "Does everyone know about that? Look, it's not about that, I promise."

Sayuri tilts her head the other way. "Then what? I don't understand."

Michi looks into her wide, childlike eyes, and sighs. "Tatsuya is my friend. But we're not – well, we're not that close. I can't just ask him for stuff. But you've known him since you were little. Of course he'd do more for you. It's the same with Nagisa and Jirou. I'm not saying we're not friends," she adds hastily, as Sayuri's eyes blaze. "It's just, well, you're closer to all the guys. They only really spend time with me because I'm friends with you." She runs her fingers though her hair. "It's not a bad thing, Sayuri. That's just how the world works."

"That's not true," Sayuri says hotly. "You're their friend, too."

"I know. But…" Michi bites her lower lip. "It's different, okay?"

"How?"

"Don't look at me like that." Michi swings her legs over the side of the bed and scoots closer. "They are my friends. And I care a lot about them. But you're pretty and outgoing and smart and–"

"So are you!"

Michi gives her a look. Sayuri thrusts her chin out stubbornly. "You are."

Michi sighs again. "Yuri," she starts, and changes what she was going to say. "Look, I didn't mean to argue. I'm sorry. It's not really important." She gets to her feet. "Come on. Let's go find out what dinner plans are."

"I still think you're wrong," Sayuri says, frowning. Michi laughs softly. "I know. That's what makes you an awesome best friend," she says, and stoops to gently flick her furrowed forehead. "You are wonderfully oblivious to my many flaws. Come on." She takes her hands and tugs. Sayuri reluctantly gets to her feet. "That's because you don't have any," she grumbles, following Michi down the sleek wooden stairs. Michi only laughs. "See? You spoil me rotten. Any more and I'll end up like Jirou."

"You'll what?" Jirou drawls, looking up from the TV.

"Mean," Sayuri retorts, ignoring him. "I wouldn't do that to you."

"Oi," Jirou says.

Michi flings herself onto the sofa next to him, giggling. "Really? Jirou-kun, do you think I could ever be like you?"

"You could be so lucky," he shoots back. Sayuri plops down in between them. "I would never curse you like that, Michi," she says seriously. Jirou whacks her with a throw pillow. "Excuse you. I'm fabulous."

"Pillow fight!" Nagisa chirps, grabbing a decorative pillow off the other sofa. Tatsuya ducks as it sails past his nose and hits Sayuri. Nagisa blinks. "Oops."

Sayuri grabs it and turns on Jirou. He yelps and dodges. Michi tumbles off the sofa, giggling as Kaname calmly catches a pillow mid-air without looking up from his book. "Don't hurt Yuri, please."

"She's hurting me," Jirou complains, lying facedown on the carpet as Sayuri smacks his back with a pillow. She growls. "It's not fair if you don't put up a fight!"

Jirou sighs theatrically. "You asked," he says, and lunges for the pillow. Sayuri topples back onto the couch with a squeak. Kaname sighs and closes his book. Jirou makes a very undignified noise as Kaname looms over him. Nagisa laughs and pelts them both with pillows.

Michi takes refuge behind Tatsuya as Jirou collapses on Sayuri and sends both of them tumbling to the floor. Despite Sayuri's furious squeaking, Michi can tell that Jirou is being careful not to accidentally crush her. Kaname can probably tell as well, because Jirou is still conscious despite the pounding he's getting. Still, she didn't know small decorative throw pillows could leave bruises before.

Nagisa grows bored of the one-sided fight and bounds onto the other sofa. "Tatsuya, to arms!" he cries. Tatsuya blinks. "Um–"

Nagisa's pillow nails him in the forehead. Tatsuya blinks again and slowly picks the pillow up. Nagisa bounces expectantly. Tatsuya hefts the pillow, stands up, and carefully thrusts it into the smaller boy's chest. Nagisa tumbles off the sofa with a yelp. Tatsuya turns back to Michi. She flings her hands up defensively. "Hey, I didn't hit you."

"Michi-chan! Avenge me!"

"Nagisa, he literally just killed you in one blow."

Nagisa flops onto his side and gives her the wide irresistible puppy eyes. Michi groans. "Nooo. Okay. Fine." She stoops and picks up a pillow. "Please don't kill me?"

Tatsuya cocks his head to the side. Michi throws the pillow. It sails neatly over his shoulder. She winces. Tatsuya hefts a pillow. She squeaks and dives onto the other sofa.

"Michi!" Sayuri cries, her voice muffled from somewhere under Jirou. He's sitting on her, balancing against the arm of the sofa with one hand and fending off Kaname with the other. Michi sets her jaw.

The look on Jirou's face when she tackles him is almost worth getting hit in the side of the head by Kaname. He drops the pillow, genuine regret flickering across his face. "Ah. My bad. Are you okay, Michi?"

She throws the pillow at him. Jirou promptly rolls over and squashes her. Sayuri, freed from her captivity, starts beleaguering him about the head. Kaname picks up another pillow and staggers as Nagisa jumps onto his back with a shrill war cry.

They end up in a massive dogpile. Sayuri clambers triumphantly on top of Nagisa, and hastily scrambles off again as Michi wheezes. Jirou grits his teeth. He's on his hands and knees above her, straining under Kaname's weight as Nagisa untangles himself from the top of the pile. "A little help?" he grunts. Michi clutches his shirt. "Please don't let them squash me."

He grimaces down at her. "Trying."

Tatsuya wanders over and plucks Sayuri free. Michi can't see much from under the tangle of limbs, but the weight crushing her chest eases. She sucks in a breath. Jirou rolls off her, wheezing. "Geez, Ichijo, how much do you weigh?"

"Don't make me kick your butt again," Sayuri warns. Michi rolls onto her back. "Thanks," she pants. Jirou shrugs. "You're flat enough already. Oof!"

Sayuri picks up another pillow. "I will kick your butt again."

Michi pokes him. "Jerk," she mumbles, ears pink. He rubs his chest. "Sorry."

She stares up at him, eyes wide. He blinks. "What?"

"Nothing," she says quickly. She sits up, ignoring Sayuri's triumphant I-told-you-they-care expression. "So," she says brightly, as Jirou hauls himself to his feet and Kaname starts picking up the fallen pillows, "what's for dinner?"

"Fried chicken!" Sayuri says.

"That's for holidays, idiot," Jirou says, dusting himself off.

"That's two votes for fried chicken!"

"I want fried chicken!" Nagisa says.

Tatsuya blinks. "Sure."

"Fried chicken sounds good," Kaname adds. Michi catches Sayuri's eye and grins. Sayuri bounces on the arm of the couch. "Fried chicken it is! Who wants to order?"

Michi shakes her head. She really doesn't know, she thinks. Maybe it's another heroine thing, like never having bad breath, or bedheads.

She crisscrosses her legs and rubs her arms absently, trying to chase the goosebumps away. The bay doors are open, the gauzy green curtains fluttering in the cold breeze sweeping up from the sea. The whole house is soaked with the heavy tang of salt water. She takes a deep breath, feeling her heart settle in rhythm with the endless distant thrum of the waves.

She's grown used to watching them. The boys have formed their tiny circle again, Sayuri at its center. She's balancing on the arm of the sofa, one long bare leg draped idly across the black leather, leaning against Kaname as he absentmindedly plays with one of her damp curls. Tatsuya stands a little behind Kaname, turned away from Michi. She can only see the striking line of his profile, the twitch in his black sweatpants as he fiddles with the earbuds in his pocket. His dark lashes –it should be inhuman to have lashes that long– are half-lowered, sleepy, but his gaze never leaves Sayuri. She turns her attention quickly to Jirou. He's sitting on the back of the sofa, legs crossed, leaning forward, his eyes glinting as he teases Sayuri. His eyes remind her of the sea; that stormy, unreadable kind of bluish-grey that thaws to warmth when Sayuri laughs despite herself. Like the sun melting a frosty autumn day. Nagisa is at his feet, his curly head tilted back, his amber eyes crinkling as he tickles Sayuri's bare foot with a fingertip and waits mischievously for her to notice.

Her gaze is pulled irresistibly back to Sayuri. Sayuri's green eyes meet hers, and she realizes, with a start, that while she's been watching the others look at Sayuri, Sayuri's been watching her.

Sayuri tilts her head, her lips flickering upwards as if to say, aren't they funny? Don't we have such strange friends?

Michi smiles and shakes her head slightly. Sayuri wriggles her eyebrows and beams as Michi snorts a laugh.

"Stop flirting, you two," Jirou drawls. "Are we getting fried chicken or not?"

"Jealous, Kirishima?"

"You wish, Ichijo."

"Let's go ahead and order," Kaname says, nudging Sayuri off the sofa. "Who wants what?"

Michi reluctantly uncurls as the others move past, following Kaname into the kitchen. A pale hand is thrust before her. Tatsuya's blue eyes are almost black in the darkening light outside.

She hesitates, and takes it. "Thanks."

Tatsuya doesn't let go. "Are you alright?" he asks, his voice low.

"Yeah," she says, bewildered why he's bringing up their fight now.

"I've never seen you cry," he says, and she realizes that he's talking about the incident from earlier. She flushes. "Oh. Yeah. I've never had an asthma attack before." And now that the weird damsel in distress scene is over, I probably won't ever have one again. She forces a smile. "It freaked me out, is all. I'm fine now."

Tatsuya tilts his head. He's still holding her hand. Her heart is suddenly beating faster. She resists the urge to stare down at her bare feet as Tatsuya searches her face. The crease in his forehead eases. He lets go. She steps back quickly. "You shouldn't frown like that," she says lightly, trying to cover up her awkwardness. "Models shouldn't have wrinkles, yeah?"

"You were crying," he says, as if that answers it.

"It was an asthma attack. That doesn't count." She reaches up on tiptoe and taps his forehead with a fingertip. "I'm serious. You shouldn't worry because of me."

His expression shifts. He steps back. "Friends worry," he says quietly, and turns and walks into the kitchen. Michi bites her lip. She doesn't follow him.

"What's going on with you and Tatsuya?"

Michi opens her eyes. She's sprawled face-down on the bed in her pajamas, trying to summon the willpower to get up and brush her teeth. "Nothing. Why?"

Sayuri plops down beside her. "You've both been acting weird."

Michi reluctantly rolls onto her back. "No, he hasn't," she says, trying to remember what Tatsuya has been doing that's weird. He only ate a few pieces of fried chicken, but that's just because he doesn't like greasy food. He was quiet during the movie, but that was because Jirou started a tickle fight with Sayuri and they had to pause the film while Kaname hauled him off again.

"He doesn't talk anymore."

"It's Tatsuya."

"He doesn't talk to you anymore."

"I don't talk much when we're in a group." Which is true. She only got dragged into the tickle fight because Kaname had asked her, in that very-calmly-scary tone of voice, to sit on Jirou's chest while Nagisa administered the tickling punishment, and Jirou had discovered she was very ticklish and promptly escaped. She shivers, remembering. Sayuri prods her back to the present. "Michi. What's going on?"

Michi looks up into her level green eyes and sighs. "Nothing. We had a bit of a misunderstanding last week, that's all."

"Did you explain it to him?"

"It's a bit more complicated than that," Michi says. Sayuri crooks an eyebrow questioningly. Michi sits up and runs a hand through her hair. "It's…hard to explain."

Sayuri tilts her head, and slides off the bed. Before Michi can say anything, she's climbing back on, gripping a hairbrush in one hand. She settles down behind Michi and starts to separate her hair into strands. "Is it something you can explain, or something you don't want to?" she asks. Michi shrugs. "Kind of both?"

"Hmm." Sayuri's fingers brush the nape of her neck. The hairbrush threads gently over her scalp. Michi exhales slowly and tries to find where to begin.

"It was last week, when we had dinner at my apartment," she says. Sayuri nods. She remembers. Michi's parents had been out on their monthly date night, so Sayuri could play her music on the mini speaker while Kaname bustled around in the kitchen, making dinner. Theoretically, everyone was over so that they could plan out their graduation trip, but mostly it was Michi and Nagisa googling train tables and calculating travel funds while Sayuri and Jirou bickered over who would be valedictorian, Tatsuya napped on the couch, and Kaname tuned them all out over the sizzle of mackerel frying on the stove.

"You left to call a friend," Sayuri remembers. "Tohru-chan, right?"

"Yeah." Michi fidgets with the hem of her oversized T-shirt. "I hadn't talked to her in a while. She goes to Kaibara Junior High now. She says it's a really weird school." She smiles crookedly. "They don't have princes or special nicknames or secret idols or anything like that. And the teachers are all pretty old. Everyone's pretty normal. Tohru said that even the cliques are pretty chill."

"That sounds kind of boring." Sayuri smooths a hand over her hair. "I can't imagine Shishio-sensei being old. Or people calling Jirou Kirishima-san instead of the Ice Prince." She giggles. "It just fits him so well."

"You don't ever think it's weird, giving strangers nicknames like that?"

Sayuri twists to look at her, surprised. "No. The whole school calls him that. It's not just us."

"I guess." Michi picks at her shirt again. Sayuri changes the subject. "So what happened? You were gone for ages. Kaname asked Tatsuya to go get you since the food was getting cold. He was up there for a while, and when he finally came back down he just mumbled something about needing to go home and left. And then you came down stairs all quiet and didn't talk for the rest of the evening."

Michi stares down at her lap. "So that's why everyone knows about it?"

"Well, Tatsuya and Kaname are pretty close. I don't know if he told him anything. But you aren't the best at hiding your emotions, either, Mich."

Michi makes a face. "So I've been told."

"You don't have to tell me what happened." Sayuri puts down the brush and rubs her shoulders. "But Tatsuya isn't the kind of guy who would get upset without a reason."

"I know," Michi sighs. "It's just…I don't know how to explain. To anyone."

"Then tell him that, at least."

"I did. I tried." Michi winces, remembering. "…I think."

Sayuri's fingers dance along the line of her shoulders, working deftly on a knot in her shoulder blade. "You and Tatsuya aren't very good at expressing yourselves," she says bluntly.

"No kidding." Michi winces again, this time because the knot Sayuri is prodding is coiled around a bundle of nerves. "I just don't really get why he's still upset, to be honest. It wasn't even really a fight."

"Well, what happened?"

"Tohru called. We were talking about the high school she's going to. And I was telling her that I wouldn't mind going to a school that doesn't have princes. That it wouldn't be that weird for me. I was joking around, saying that I might transfer. Ouch!"

"Sorry." Sayuri eases the pressure on the knot. "And that's when Tatsuya came in?"

"Yes." It's a white lie, but she's glad Sayuri can't see her face right now.

Tatsuya hadn't come in. He must have been just outside her door. Maybe he had even knocked, but she hadn't heard him. She was talking too loudly, caught up in the conversation, stumbling over her words as she tried to explain. Of course I would miss Sayuri. But I don't want to go to this school, Tohru. All the drama and princes and cliques. I just want a normal life again. I hate being the side character. No, it's not that bad, Sayuri's a good friend, I don't mind the princes, it's just –no, I know, but it really does feel like I'm just the side character, Tohru. I hate it. I feel like I'm trapped. Like no matter what I do, I'll always just be a shadow beside the princes and Sayuri. I'll never be able to compete with them, and I'll never be able to fit in with anyone else. Like I'm stuck in between. And I hate it. I –no, they really are fine, I swear. It's not them. I'm just…

And then she had seen him standing in the doorway, one hand on the knob, seen the look on his face. She almost dropped the phone. I –I, um, I'll call you right back, Tohru. Sorry. Yeah. Sorry.

And then there had been the silence, thick and heavy between them. It hung there until she couldn't stand it anymore. She opened her mouth. He spoke first.

Is that really how you feel?

She couldn't look up at him. No. I –

What?

She swallowed hard. I can explain.

His voice was flat. Explain then.

…How much did you hear?

Why does that matter?

A pause. She fumbled blindly for words, for an explanation, for anything at all. Tatsuya's voice was very quiet. Have you ever thought of us as friends?

Yes. It sounded like a lie, even to her.

His grip on the doorknob was white-knuckled. She still couldn't look up at him.

Why didn't you tell us? Have we ever hurt you?

She had thought of their quiet place, of the sunlight speckling his face, the sleepy nonchalance in his voice as he said I like you. She didn't say anything.

Have you ever thought of me as your friend? The hurt in his voice stung worse than the accusation.

Yes, she whispered.

How can I believe you?

For a moment she wanted to lie. It would have been easier. She had been lying this whole time, hadn't she? One more lie wouldn't have hurt. One more lie to keep him from being hurt anymore. She hadn't wanted to hurt any of them.

But then she looked up into his crystalized blue eyes, and knew she couldn't. Not to his face. Not when he looked as if he almost wanted her to.

I'm sorry.

And he had left. She had waited for his footsteps to fade downstairs before she buried her face in her pillow and let the first sob escape.

She had thought that was it. Even Sayuri wouldn't forgive her twice. None of them would. She wouldn't blame them. Maybe she would transfer to a different school, after all. The thought made her sick.

But Tatsuya never said anything. They didn't see each other again until this morning. She had almost managed to forget it had happened at all.

"And?" Sayuri prompts. Michi stares down at her hands. They're clenched in her lap, fingers knotted between her white knuckles. "He thought I didn't like them. The princes, I mean."

"That's silly," Sayuri says. "Did you tell him that?"

"Yeah. I guess he didn't believe me." Another lie. But Sayuri is too focused on the knot in her shoulder to notice the odd note in her voice.

"That's silly," she says again. "I don't know why he wouldn't. Tatsuya is usually pretty practical." She pauses, and adds thoughtfully, "Maybe he's in love with you?"

"Definitely not."

"Oh well. I'm sure if you pull him aside and explain it again, he'll come around. Guys can be sensitive sometimes about stuff like this." Sayuri gives her shoulder one final rub and sits back. "I can talk to him if you want, but it's probably best you do it."

"Yeah." Michi slowly unknots her hands. "I will."

"Good." Sayuri flops back on the bed with a yawn. "Man, that fried chicken was good. I'm sleepy now. Can I turn off the lights?"

"Yeah." Michi rolls her shoulders. "Thanks for the back massage."

"No problem. You were pretty tense." Sayuri flips the lights off and picks her way carefully back to the bed. The mattress shifts as she climbs in and wriggles under the covers besides Michi. "You should ask Kaname to give you one sometime. He's really good at them."

"Um."

Sayuri giggles. "He won't think it's weird, I promise. He says you're basically another little sister."

"…Great."

"Hey, don't go having a crush on him. That would be weird."

"Trust me, I'm not in danger of having a crush on any of them. Ever." Michi nudges her under the covers, trying to lighten the mood. "Besides, I'm pretty sure at least two of them are madly in love with you."

"Oh, they'll grow out of it." Sayuri snuggles closer. She smells like strawberry shampoo and salt water. "They don't know yet that we're going to grow up and live in a city apartment and be rich and famous together."

Michi snorts. "You go do that. I'll just bum in your apartment and chase all the screaming fan boys away."

"Mm." Sayuri yawns. "That works too." She fumbles in the dark for Michi's hand. Michi clasps it warmly. "Go to sleep, Yuri."

"Mm." Sayuri sighs. "Hey, Mich?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm really glad you're not transferring schools."

"Yeah." Michi's voice is a little rough. She squeezes Sayuri's hand tighter. "I won't do that to you ever again. I promise."

"Mm." Sayuri's voice is barely audible. "I believe you…"