Notes: Hi there. It's me. Hopefully not too much time has passed between publishing dates that you forgot what's happened up until now. Hopefully this chapter also serves as a refresher.
It's more than that, though: I've had this chapter planned since I started writing this story. That didn't make it any easier to write; part of the reason this took so long is because it was so emotionally difficult for me to type this out. That just boils down to another excuse for a four-month wait between chapters, though.
This chapter is also a fitting Christmas Eve read, for the sole reason that it takes place during Christmas Eve. So enjoy, laugh a little, or feel your soul get ripped out, because I experienced all those things while writing this.
Umi's phone rattled against her nightstand, causing its owner to stir somewhere amongst the tangle of sheets. A hand emerged and groped blindly for the phone, finally finding purchase. A finger brushed across the screen until the vibrating stopped, and the hand dragged the phone back under the covers.
She tried to greet her caller (and assailant on her much-needed sleep) with a simple "Hello?" but the sound that she produced sounded closer to "hnnnnmu?"
The caller on the other end seemed to get the message regardless. "Want to hang out?" the voice asked in a familiar sharp tone. "I'm at the Dotour near the school if you have some extra time to spare before tonight," it continued.
Umi shrunk away from the loud voice and held her phone away from her face. "Ugh... what time is it?" she asked. Her voice was starting to clear up.
"Almost nine."
She finally managed to pinpoint that distinct, self-assured manner of speech; she was talking to Maki, who was probably judging her for sleeping in this late as they spoke. "That can't be right." She rolled over and clutched at her pillow.
"Please don't tell me you just woke up." She could almost hear Maki rolling her eyes through the phone.
"Of course not. I can be there at…" she pried her eyes open to get a glimpse of the time, but the phone's dazzling brightness forced them shut again. "... in half an hour, if that's alright."
"Sure. See you."
"Mm." The call ended. Umi rolled over again. Her phone fell from her hand, and she was back to sleep before it hit the sheets. December 24, 8:46 A.M.
An hour later, Umi opened the door to the cafe. She spotted Maki at a four-person table in the far corner, and she wasn't alone.
"Umi-chan?" Nozomi, who sat across from Maki at their table, noticed her first and waved her over. "What a nice surprise!"
"Same here." Umi offered her senior a wave as she approached.
"There you are." Maki smiled up at her. "What took you so long?"
"Getting out of bed can be difficult." Umi shrugged, looking down.
Maki pursed her lips, mimicking Umi's shrug. "I guess I can relate. Are you going to order something, or do you just want to share with me?"
Umi glanced at her steaming coffee and croissant, reasonably portioned for one person only. "I'll just buy something for myself." She stepped towards the counter.
While she decided between a latte and a house drip coffee, she picked out Nozomi's voice among the general murmur of conversation in the shop:
"You didn't tell me you invited Umi-chan, too!"
"It was pretty last-minute." That was Maki. "I figured she'd want to make up for the time she hasn't seen any of you."
"I really did miss her! I hope this means she's really back."
"Back from what?"
"From whatever kept her away from us."
Umi tugged at the sleeve of her jacket, trying to focus on the menu. Naturally, her efforts failed now that she was zeroed in on the conversation back at the table.
"Are you going to ask her about it?" Maki asked.
"I probably shouldn't pry, especially if it's something serious."
"Why would you assume it's serious?"
"It's been two years, Maki-chan! Two years!"
"Yeah, that's true…"
"Do you know anything?"
"Me?" Maki's voice hitched. "No. Like you said, it's best not to pry."
"Yeah. Just because she's back doesn't mean she's ready to open up. It's too bad."
Maki took an audible sip of her latte. "I hope you're not saying that just because you've been low on gossip lately."
"Oh, you wound me!" Nozomi gasped in what sounded like mock offense. "Are you assuming that I give more importance to juicy information than the well-being of my friends?"
"You said it, not me."
"I would never!"
Maki didn't answer to that, and when Umi returned to the table after placing her order, both girls were still silent. They looked at her expectantly.
"Is there something you want to ask?" Umi narrowed her eyes. She couldn't tell if they had been deliberately talking loud enough for her to hear, but she doubted the two of them would be so brutish in their techniques. Especially Nozomi.
"So, Umi-chan…" Nozomi started. She drummed her fingers on the table and leaned in. "How are you?"
"Didn't I tell you on Monday?"
"You did, but we didn't get too much time to talk about it."
Umi shrugged, trying not to let her apprehension show. She could already guess where this conversation was headed. "What else do you want to know?"
"Where to start?" Nozomi put a hand to her chin. "A lot. Maki-chan wouldn't tell me anything."
She gave said girl a pointed look.
"Because I don't know anything." Maki returned the look with a glare of her own. "Just because we go to the same school doesn't mean we see each other all the time."
"I didn't say it was your fault. Since Umi-chan did such a good job of staying off the map…" Nozomi shifted her stare to Umi, who stiffened. "It was actually impressive, how you managed to lay low for that long."
Umi swallowed, hard. "You say that as though I was avoiding you girls on purpose."
"Were you?"
She realized, too late, that she had just cast suspicion on herself by reading too much into Nozomi's words. "I mean, the days tend to blend into one another and it's easy for me to lose track of time…"
Nozomi was silent for a moment, simply regarding Umi and her answer. Then she leaned forward, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "You're right about that." She picked up her spoon and stirred it in her coffee, even though it was already fully mixed. "It's kinda crazy to think that you've been gone for almost two years."
Umi weighed this against her most recent interactions with the rest of their friends. "It… almost doesn't seem like it."
"That's why it's so crazy!" Nozomi sighed, stirring her coffee absently all the while. "But then again, we don't get to meet up all that often. You know when you surprised us two days ago? That might have been the…" Her nose wrinkled. "...the third time we all met since everyone graduated?" She glanced towards Maki, who up to that point had been content to let Nozomi talk. "Is that right, Maki-chan?"
"I'm not sure," the redhead said. "Something like that."
"Does that mean I haven't missed out on too much?" Umi's question was a little more hopeful than she wanted to let on.
Nozomi wagged a finger at her, crushing what little hope Umi had. "You're wrong about that. Don't think we didn't miss you like hell."
"That's right. Of course." Umi looked away, flushing.
"You've been a ghost in the group chat, too," her senior added.
She could only shrug. "I'm guilty as charged."
"Oi."
A sharp voice interrupted their chitchat. All three girls turned at the same time to see a petite girl wearing a pink apron imposing on the table. A name tag fastened near her chest had the letters "NICO" emblazoned on it in a rather unimpressive black font. "I hope you're not expecting me to waste my break time here again." She held Umi's order on a tray.
"Yo!" Nozomi waved at her and smiled a thoroughly innocent smile. Umi breathed a sigh of relief, seeing as Nico's surprising appearance was also a distraction from their discussion about college life. "Fancy meeting you here, Niccochi!"
"Could you drop the act already? It got old the first time you did it," Nico retorted.
"Is this the reason why you picked this café to hang out?" Umi whispered to Maki while their seniors were distracted.
Maki shrugged. "More or less," she whispered back. "Nico-chan makes it more exciting than your average café, so that's a plus."
"I heard that!" Nico pointed an accusing finger at the pair. "So you're admitting that you come here just to mess with me, huh?"
"Of course not! We genuinely enjoy your company," Nozomi said. Her words seemed to have no effect, much to Umi's chagrin.
"And you!" Nico's glare now zeroed in on Umi. "You're the last person I'd expect to join in on their funny business."
Umi averted her gaze. "The feeling is mutual."
"Don't incriminate yourself like that, Umi-chan." Nozomi chuckled. She pulled Nico closer to the table and added: "That's not what you're here for, right?"
"Um…" Umi considered the question directed at her. Supposedly, Maki had brought her here to hang out, and nothing more. "I don't think so," she answered with this in mind.
"Then what brings you here? If you didn't know, these two only hang out here to get in the way of my work." Nico glanced at Nozomi and, after a small nod from the other girl, sat down at the last vacant seat. She slid Umi's order to her across the table.
"You love it," Maki chimed in. "Don't lie."
"You're lucky I do," Nico shot back. "If I didn't, I'd have you kicked out for loitering." She jerked her thumb towards the door.
"I'm sure you would." Maki smiled, her voice containing not one hint of sincerity.
Nico inhaled sharply, and Umi braced herself for the argument that this would surely lead to, but no biting response came. Instead, Nico looked her straight in the eye and changed the subject; a wise move, if Umi were to judge. "As you can see, nothing's changed," she said. For a moment, Umi was unable to respond to this somber declaration, but then Nico grinned, belying that statement's true nature.
"It's good to see that." Umi returned the smile. "But I don't entirely agree."
"I mean, I'm sure we've all changed a bit, in our own ways." Nico conceded. "Especially now that everyone's graduated. But when we get together it's…"
"You've seen it for yourself," Nozomi finished for her.
"Exactly," Nico said, snatching up a piece of Maki's croissant. Her junior eyed her disapprovingly but said nothing. "You could've come back any time."
Umi frowned, swishing her coffee from side to side. The liquid sloshed around close to the rim, but didn't spill over. "If you say so…" she muttered, not convincingly.
"What took you so long to come back?"
Umi watched the other girls' expressions darken. Maki narrowed her eyes. Nozomi cleared her throat. Nico seemed to notice this, too, and she expressed it. "What? Is there something wrong with that question? I just want to know for sure."
"No, it's just…" Maki ran her thumb across the side of her coffee mug, her mouth creased into a straight line. "It's a pretty blunt way of asking."
"Yeah, of course it is. Isn't that the best way to get an answer?" When Nico was met with more silence, she let go of a long sigh that could have been a groan, had they been in a more private place. "This happened the last time I tried to ask, too. Something's up."
"If you know that, you shouldn't be so adamant about asking Umi-chan," Nozomi pointed out.
Nico didn't budge. "It bothers me that we can't talk about it. You can trust us, you know." She said this to Umi, and all of them turned towards her at once.
Umi resisted the urge to avoid all of their gazes. Nico had a point, and as Umi considered the events from two years' prior, she realized that it might be better for the truth to be out there. It had been so long, and she might actually be able to glean some advice for her tenuous situation from someone other than Kotori. There's nothing wrong with Kotori's opinion in the first place, but...
Of course, her long-standing fears were still in effect here. They could all hate her after hearing what she did, a perfectly understandable reaction. But if that meant Honoka would receive more sympathy for her past (and current) situation, then it was worth the risk.
Kind of shameful, how it took her almost two years to realize that.
"Okay. I'll tell you," she declared, staring into her coffee.
"Seriously?!"
"Are you sure?"
"Don't feel pressured by Nico-chan."
Umi looked up to her three friends staring her down. Nico in particular looked like she was about to leap over the table. "What's with those reactions?" she asked, feeling a little pinned down by their intense gazes. "Don't tell me you already know something."
Everyone looked away at once, suddenly intrigued by her coffee, her part of the table, her apron.
"Um…"
"Well…"
"Not exactly, but…"
Umi's suspicion grew. She sat back and waited for someone to respond.
Finally, Nozomi looked her in the eye. "We might have assumed that there was something keeping you away from us," she admitted. "On top of the usual college stuff. Making new friends and all that."
"I know it's bad for us to talk behind your back like that," Nico added. "We tried not to draw any solid conclusions without knowing anything, but…"
"It's like what I told you on the train. I'm not excusing what we did, but it's pretty hard not to talk about you," Maki said. She didn't seem too apologetic, but perhaps she didn't have to be.
Umi took in their apparent concern. "You deserve to know."
"So there was something?" Nozomi had long since dropped her teasing ways after the conversation turned serious, and Umi was grateful for that. This was a good, honest group to talk to about this, she supposed.
"Yes. Something happened the day I left, and it's mostly why I haven't come back until now."
"Was it that bad?" Nico raised an eyebrow, seemingly not convinced.
Umi nodded grimly. "It was pretty bad."
Her two seniors exchanged a glance. "As long as you didn't kill or torture anyone, I think we can let you off the hook," the shorter girl said.
"Well…" Umi suddenly took an interest in her coffee. "I didn't. Physically, I didn't."
Nico leaned back in her chair, her face twisting into a grimace. "I do not like how you answered that."
"Do you still want to hear it?"
After a moment of deliberation, Nico replied: "It's better than making assumptions."
Umi nodded slowly. "Okay." She blew on her coffee, trying to ignore the expectant gazes of her friends. "Before I start, I want to warn you: you might hate me after hearing this."
"You're killing me with this buildup, Umi."
She shrugged. "I'm essentially the villain here. There's no other way that I can see it."
"Okay, we'll be the judge of that." Nico waved her hands, interrupting Umi's introduction. "Can you get on with it?" She placed her elbows on the table.
"Do you need time to recollect?" Maki asked her.
"Unfortunately not. I still remember it as though it happened yesterday." Umi let out a humorless chuckle, her expression darkening. "We might be here for a while if I tell the whole story, though. How long is your break?" She turned to Nico.
The shorter girl shrugged. "It's not peak hours, but I'll keep an eye out, so don't worry about that."
Umi took a deep breath. "Alright. It started the day before I left. All of the... "
April, 2 Years Ago:
All of the preparations had been made. Luggage was packed and appliances were readied for the new apartment. The only thing left for Umi to do was to say goodbye. That, and at least try to catch a wink of sleep before that moment arrived.
She hadn't expected this day to come so soon, but it was only willful ignorance that prevented her from seeing just how little time she'd really had. The shopping, the paperwork, the university's orientation, the signing up for classes - all of it came and went in the blink of an eye. In addition, she'd spent almost all of her free time with her friends and family, and she had virtually none of these fleeting days to herself. In this way, she now stood in front of the train station with her two closest friends, a looming prelude to what she herself would have to do tomorrow.
She'd already known that her last day here would be spent with Honoka and Kotori, the latter of whom was also trying to make the most of their limited time together. After all, Kotori was leaving today.
"Don't cry, okay, Kotori-chan?" Honoka pulled her into a tight hug. "We promised not to cry!"
To her credit, Kotori showed no signs of discomfort despite being the target of such a determined embrace. "You're the one who's about to cry, Honoka-chan…"
"Me? No way!" Honoka stepped back, and Umi saw that Kotori was right: that girl hadn't smiled since they left for the train station. Her eyes weren't watery, but Umi figured it wouldn't take long for the waterworks to start.
She hoped Honoka could hold out. Was this all happening so soon, so fast? Apparently so.
Kotori herself sported her usual smile, but it was a little more forced than normal. Spending her whole life around these girls allowed Umi to tune in to these sorts of things.
"I'm not crying!" Honoka was adamant. "It's just cold."
She was right. April was often one of the most pleasant months of the year, but today the chills of winter were still heard and felt all over Japan. Honoka's choice of apparel for today, casual wear complete with a thin jacket, didn't help either.
Whether it was the cold or the melancholy, Honoka's face was quite red. Kotori giggled and pulled her into another hug. "It's okay to cry if you need to."
"Like I said, I'm not…" Honoka seemed to relent after Kotori embraced her. "You'll visit soon, right?"
"I'll try my best. Maybe even before summer break?"
"You better!"
"It'll go by before you know it." She released Honoka and turned to Umi, who had been watching from a few feet away. "Don't be so stiff, Umi-chan. Come over here."
She hadn't realized, and so she quietly obliged by walking over. Kotori wasted no time in hugging her. "Take care, Umi-chan."
"You too."
"Wait for me!" The sight of them must have awakened something in Honoka, because she came barreling forward and crashing into the pair, almost knocking them off their feet.
"Hey! Wait - Honoka!"
"You already got your turn, Honoka-chan!" Kotori teased.
Honoka only giggled and wrapped her arms around the two as best she could. Umi was relieved to see that her almost-carefree smile had returned.
"Okay, I'm happy you two love me so much, but I really have to go now."
They stepped back from one another. Honoka rubbed the back of her head, her smile now sheepish. Umi couldn't help but smile a little herself.
"Good luck!" Honoka said. She stepped forward, and Umi thought she'd have to restrain her from lunging at Kotori for another hug, but she didn't act beyond that.
"Don't be afraid to call or message us if you need anything," Umi added.
Kotori nodded, hoisting her purse over her shoulder and gripping her single (albeit overstuffed) bag of luggage. "Likewise." Then, she turned, ran her card across the scanner, and slipped through the open gate, her bag in tow. With a final glance back and a warm smile, she turned around and was soon swept up by the early afternoon crowd.
The two watched her leave.
"So…" Honoka said. Umi glanced at her and saw a resigned smile on her face. "That's it, huh?"
"Don't say it like it's so final." Umi frowned, nudging Honoka with her elbow. "Didn't she just say that she'll be back after the first term is over? Or perhaps even before that?"
"Yeah, I guess so." Honoka looked around and seemed to notice the sea of people that was forced to part around the two of them. "Ah, we should get going." She shrunk back as one particularly grumpy-looking businessman shot her a glare in his attempt to wedge past her.
"You're right." Umi flushed in a similar manner; standing still in the middle of a train station was the equivalent of a grievous sin, after all. "Let's go."
Outside, the rush of people was less suffocating, albeit no less constant. Umi leaned against the wall and stopped for a breather, mindful enough to not disrupt the flow of walking traffic. Next to her, Honoka did the same, and for a few moments the two silently let the crowds pass in front of them.
"Now that Kotori-chan's gone, it's finally starting to hit me," Honoka murmured as she scuffed at the ground with her sneaker.
"Me too." Umi had to agree. "I can only imagine how different our lives are going to be, starting tomorrow."
"For you two, maybe." If Honoka's response wasn't delivered with a smirk and a chuckle, it would have sounded awfully bitter.
"The same goes for you, Honoka." Umi smiled playfully, then added: "I won't be around to clean up your messes any more."
"Ah, you don't have to worry about that!"Honoka crossed her arms and gave Umi a smirk that exuded confidence. "It's already been three days since I made that chili pepper manjuu!"
"Is that supposed to reassure me?" Umi shuddered. The mere mention of that accursed recipe brought painful memories back to her mind. She had probably lost a couple hundred taste buds in sampling Honoka's most experimental venture.
"Of course! Yukiho told me it's the worst thing she's ever tasted, which means I can only go up from here."
"Alright, Honoka." Umi smiled, amused. She wasn't convinced, but she did have to credit her friend's enduring optimism. "You might put your bakery out of business if you tried to sell chili manjuu," she added. "And for the record, I agree with Yukiho."
Honoka shrugged. She'd given up on that recipe, thankfully. "Have some hope in me, will ya?"
"Of course. That's what friends do."
Silence settled on the two. Umi didn't feel the need to elaborate or continue.
This situation wasn't new to either of them, especially not in the last few months. Up until then, Honoka was usually the driving force behind their conversations, either steering them into uncharted territory or going on and on about this and that. Umi didn't mind, of course; she hated to call it "chatter," but that was sometimes the best way to describe the verbal manifestation of Honoka's boundless optimism. A break from that once in a while couldn't hurt, Umi supposed.
Besides, sometimes Honoka would say something, and Umi would be reminded that her childhood friend's mind wasn't always concerned with bread, with idols, with μ's, with scraping by on that next quiz.
Sometimes, Umi would be reminded why she had always been so drawn to this girl.
"Hey, do you think Kotori-chan had any regrets?"
Speak of the devil.
"I…" She paused when she realized that she wasn't confident in her answer. "I don't know. Why didn't you ask her?"
Honoka shrugged. "I just thought about it, and it's too late to ask her now."
"You could text her."
"Yeah, I could. But I'd feel more comfortable if I asked her in person, maybe?" Honoka's smile wavered.
Umi mulled over her response. Honoka's eyes were elsewhere, which allowed Umi to observe her freely. "Do you think she has regrets?"
"Yeah. Doesn't everyone?"
"Hmm..." Umi bit her lip in thought. "I don't have any."
"Really?" Honoka turned towards her and their gazes finally met. Her eyes were wide with genuine surprise.
Umi nodded. "I've made plenty of mistakes, of course. But without them, I wouldn't be who I am today."
Honoka's look of surprise remained for a moment longer before she burst out laughing. "That's so like you, Umi-chan."
"I don't see what's so funny." Umi averted her eyes. She flushed red, wondering if her answer had been inappropriate in some way.
"Nothing!" Honoka calmed down, although her shoulders still shook with the occasional giggle. "I just don't know why I thought you'd say anything else."
Umi could only shrug, considering the accuracy of that statement. "Well, what about you? Do you have any regrets?"
Honoka was looking at her curiously. Her eyes were narrowed slightly, and the small smile that she wore along with it was a little unnerving to Umi. "Yeah, I do."
She paused. They silently held each other's gazes until Umi found it too intense, and she looked away. "Like what?"
"...You know what? It's not important."
Umi frowned. In any other situation, she would have pressed for more information. It wasn't exactly fair for Honoka to bring up such a personal topic, only to dodge the issue when it was directed back at her. But now that Honoka had withdrawn back into herself, pushing her for a real answer would only prove frustrating and unfruitful. Umi dropped the subject with a resigned "Okay."
Honoka gave her a wide smile, which wasn't entirely convincing. "Want to stay the night at my place?"
"That's what we planned."
"Just making sure. Oh, but we can't talk about you leaving."
"Why?"
"There's no point! Let's just try to enjoy ourselves, okay? First one to bring it up owes the other person something."
Just like that, Honoka had buried her odd behavior from just seconds ago. It would be inappropriate to bring it up now. "Okay." Umi forced herself to smile, thinking it would be the best way to get in the mood that Honoka was pushing for. "I'll come over after dinner."
"Woo!"
"I didn't think anything was too out of the ordinary," Umi said. She downed part of her coffee and tried to convince herself that she didn't need any additional sweetener. "The fact that the three of us would be separated for the first time in our lives was finally starting to sink in for me, and I assumed that Honoka felt the same way."
The girls had leaned in considerably since she'd started, their coffees and pastries untouched. "But there was something out of the ordinary?" Nico asked, her hands balled into fists.
Umi frowned, looking disapprovingly at each of her friends in turn. "It would be nice if you didn't act so excited to listen. I don't take much pleasure in talking about this." Her frown deepened as she briefly considered just how much of that day's remaining events she should disclose.
Nozomi pursed her lips in a tight, apologetic smile. "Sorry, sorry." She leaned back in her chair and gripped Nico's shoulder as she did so, forcing her to do the same. This prompted a glare from the other girl, which was ignored. "It's hard not to make any definite assumptions for two years, that's all."
"Well, like I said, the truth won't be very pleasant."
Nico wasn't about to let Nozomi hold her back. She leaned in again. "Whatever! I just need to know if I should judge you or not!"
"So you'll judge me if you deem it fit to do so?"
"Yeah," the shorter girl huffed, "but you knew that going in."
Suddenly, Umi was reminded of the potential wrath Nico could bring down on her. That part of her certainly hadn't changed, it seemed. But she was right: the story couldn't just end here.
She took another deep breath. "I agreed to spend the night at Honoka's house, but before that, I went home since my parents wanted to take me out for one last dinner. They let me go after that, and I packed a toothbrush and a change…"
… of clothes for the night. After a short goodbye to her parents (she'd see them tomorrow, as well), she heaved her backpack onto her shoulders and began the brief walk to Honoka's house.
She didn't have to wait long at the front door; Honoka answered promptly, still wearing the same clothes from a few hours earlier. "Ready?" she asked, her expression bright and expectant.
"Ready for what?"
"For the best night of your life!" Honoka grabbed her hand and pulled her in. "We're gonna stay up all night, got it?"
"Is that a good idea?" She started to slip out of her shoes. Honoka's house was warm and comforting, both figuratively and literally. "I'm not supposed to leave until noon, but…"
"Of course! You want to make the most of your time until you leave, right?"
"That goes without saying. So with that in mind, what do you want to do?" Umi asked at the foot of the stairwell. She was rummaging through her bag for her toothbrush, and as such she didn't see how Honoka had paused on the first step. She walked headfirst into her friend's still figure.
"I don't know!" Honoka turned around with a strained smile plastered on her face. "I was hoping you'd have an idea."
Umi halted the search for her toothbrush. "You invited me over without any plans?"
"Yep! You know what they say." Honoka looked at her with hopeful eyes, as if she expected Umi to glean her intended meaning from that cliché.
Unfortunately, Umi didn't quite follow. "What do 'they' say, exactly?"
"That spending time with people you love is more important than what you do with that time. Right?"
"Do they say that? It doesn't exactly roll off the tongue." Umi had to resist the urge to laugh.
"Don't they?" Honoka suddenly sounded a lot less certain. "It's true though, isn't it?"
Umi tilted her head, but in the end she decided this wasn't worth arguing about. "You're right," she said, laughing. "I'll see what I can come up with."
"Yay!"
This was their night, after all. No point in worrying about trivial things, like plans or accurate aphorisms.
"Umi, you're really pale." This time, Nico's voice jarred Umi out of that warm, ephemeral scene.
"Am I?" She reached up and ran a hand down the side of her face. It was cold. "I'm sorry."
"Are you sure you want to keep going?" Nico looked at her dubiously. "If it's affecting you this much, it's fine -"
"No. I'm going to finish." She brought her hand down on the table, which didn't change Nico's expression.
After a moment, though, her face softened a bit. "Alright. Whenever you're ready." The other two nodded.
Umi finished what was left of her coffee. It didn't go down so well cold. "I don't exactly remember everything we did that night. It was mostly comprised of typical sleepover activities: we went over what I'd study in college and how I felt about it, remembered some amusing times from μ's and from elsewhere. That sort of thing. For most of the night we stuck to Honoka's promise. We…"
... successfully avoided talking about the next day's departure.
Then, halfway through a youth-oriented fantasy movie, Umi found herself losing interest. There was nothing wrong with the movie, but her curiosity shifted to the girl sitting next to her. Honoka was still thoroughly engaged with the film, and so she didn't notice how Umi had started to stare.
It took her minutes to realize that she was the only one still paying attention to the movie. She turned, and when she saw Umi's expression, the cheeriness on her face vanished.
Umi saw her opportunity. "It's about tomorrow."
Honoka's reaction was strong and instant. Her mouth screwed up into a pout. "Umi-chaan! You promised we wouldn't!"
"Sorry." Umi shrugged, since she wasn't all that sorry. "I just feel like that's somewhat unfair."
"Why's that?"
"It feels like we're avoiding the topic."
"Isn't that a good thing?" Honoka tried, with only a shadow of optimism.
"Maybe not. You've been acting like this is the last time we'll be together," Umi said. "You don't need to."
"I know. But don't you think it kinda is the last time, in a way?"
That was a little foreboding. Umi looked down, fiddling with her hands. "In what way?"
"Like, when you two come back, you might already be different." She saw Umi move to respond, and she quickly continued. "Doesn't that happen to people? Going away to college changes them? You could chop your hair off. Or join a motorcycle gang. Or start talking in a different dialect."
"I think that's more of a cliché than anything," Umi mused. She tried to imagine herself with short hair and a rebellious glare to match, but couldn't fully picture it without breaking out into a smile.
"Yeah, but maybe it's a cliché for a reason."
Umi turned, surprised at the perceptiveness in that one comment alone. Honoka met her gaze with a seriousness that she hadn't seen since… actually, since earlier that afternoon, at the train station. "So you have been thinking about this a lot."
An embarrassed smile tugged at one corner of Honoka's mouth. "I can't help it."
"...Well, it's not a guarantee that I'll change that much. I might get along with my classmates and join a club, but I can't see those things changing me so drastically in only three months."
"That's true, that's true," Honoka seemed to mutter the phrase more to herself than to Umi. "It's more that this is the last time that I'll have you to myself?"
"What do you mean?"
Honoka fidgeted, but then shrugged. "Dunno."
That was the second time that day Honoka had said something unlike her and refused to elaborate. Was something on her mind? Even if there was, Honoka had already clammed up already. For the second time that day, Umi just had to accept it. Though it was frustrating to do so, she could only return the shrug and say: "I understand why you're worried, but…" She paused.
"But what?"
"Don't… be worried?" Was that really all she had? Not exactly the best reassurance.
Honoka realized it too, as she started to giggle. "Wow, the well-spoken Umi-chan's at a loss for words? I'm learning new things about you, even now."
"Sorry to disappoint you." Umi looked away, flushed.
"It's not a bad thing!" Honoka paused the movie (Umi hadn't realized it was still playing) and sprang up. "It's getting kind of late, so I'm going to take a bath first if you don't mind."
"Go ahead. I'll go after you."
Honoka shut the door behind her, leaving Umi alone in her room. As soon as she was alone, Umi shook her head and sighed. "'Don't be worried?' Seriously? What is that?"
Umi stepped out of the bathroom wearing her pajamas and a towel around her neck. The steam followed her out, and she noted that the door to Honoka's room was curiously shut. As she approached, however, the light from inside her room poked out from the gap at the bottom of the door.
She opened it slowly. "Honoka? Did you fall asleep already?" She peeked inside when no response came.
Honoka sat in the same position that she'd taken when Umi left, seated on the floor while the side of her bed served as her backrest. She faced away from the door, and her shoulders rose and fell gently as Umi watched.
"It's still early," Umi murmured to herself, laughing quietly. When Honoka didn't move, she switched off the light. She could still see Honoka's figure. "Didn't you say you wanted to stay up longer than this?" With a resigned yet content sigh, she draped her towel on the nearby desk chair and stepped over to the bedside. "This is just like you, though." She plopped herself down next to her friend and leaned back, letting her still-damp hair splay across the bed sheets. Why was it only now that she was in a talking mood?
"I'm sorry that I'm only telling you this when you're asleep, but maybe that's for the best. It's a lot.
"I can't stop thinking about what you said. About how this is the last time. I can see why you didn't want to talk about it. It's scary to think of how different we might be the next time we see each other.
"To tell you the truth, I didn't want to think about it either. I might be even better at it than you, since I haven't thought about it much at all. Maybe I just haven't had time to. I mean, the last year's gone by so fast. I was constantly studying for exams, getting caught up in club activities and school trips, and before I knew it, we were walking through those gates for the last time.
"In a way, it still feels like μ's just ended, and everything after that was just an addendum."
She flushed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "That's not to say that our last year of high school was dull. It's just… it's hard to compare anything to μ's. You know that, too. Especially now that we're leaving.
"You never told me how you feel about that. How you really feel. You kept deflecting it back onto me, saying you'd be happy if I were, too. I can't blame you - we haven't had much time to talk about it, either. Maybe we always assumed this would happen someday? And we'd accepted it long ago?
"If you don't want me to go, I wish you would tell me. Now's the time to say it. It won't change anything, but…" Umi sighed. She regarded Honoka's sleeping figure for a moment. Her back was turned, and she gave no indicator that she had heard any of that. Of course she wouldn't: she was asleep.
Umi felt a twinge of dishonesty. As though she was cheating Honoka by not letting her hear her true fears. Maybe this was a bit selfish of her. She would be lying if she claimed this wasn't cathartic to an extent. She could feel her shoulders relaxing already, even though her heart still thumped loudly in her chest.
"I still can't believe that I'm leaving tomorrow," Umi said, her voice hardly above a whisper. "Maybe it won't really hit me until I'm on that train, alone.
"I feel like I should be more nervous about myself, since it's my first time away from home and from everyone I know. And I am. But…" she reached out and ran a careful hand through Honoka's hair, tucking some of it behind her ear. "...but I'm more worried about you.
"In a way, you might be glad to know that I'm gone. You won't have to put up with my lectures." She laughed softly. "Then again, Yukiho might pick up the slack for me. I kind of hope she won't, since we're at that age where we shouldn't have to monitor each other like that. But… well. There might be a small part of me that hopes she will. Old habits die hard, I suppose?
"Earlier, when you asked how I could relate to your worries, I didn't have an answer, but I think I do now. I think that's all we can do. Worry. Because it's different when I know I can't see you whenever I want."
She stopped. It all sounded so bleak, even though she didn't exactly mean it that way. "We'll get used to our new lives. We have to."
That wasn't helping. Umi buried her face in her hands and groaned, quietly so as to not disturb her sleeping friend. Even now, she wasn't able to learn from Honoka and see the good in things. Even when she tried. She shook her head and tried again. "It's silly to feel this way, since I'll try to visit often. You'll probably be the same as always. We'll probably be the same as always."
She paused.
"...but what if we're not?"
Honoka was right: this really was the last time they'd be able to do this. The next time they met, it would be with the additional implications of their gradual transitions into adulthood. All of the idle days and idol days alike that made up their shared youth would be reduced to nostalgic memories over late-morning coffee. They were moving on to better things.
Was that really what she wanted?
She squeezed her eyes shut. Her next words came out unsure and shaky. They were supposed to be a reassurance, but she couldn't even bring herself to believe them.
"If we're not...I think that's fine, too."
Umi heard a quiet gasp. It wasn't her own. She opened her eyes and was met with the soft shimmer of Honoka's. Her mouth was slightly open.
Heat rushed to Umi's face. "I thought you were asleep," she whispered.
Honoka shook her head but said nothing.
"How much of that did you hear?"
"All of it."
"Oh."
Again, Honoka said nothing. She simply stared. Umi couldn't look away, as much as she wanted to. It might have been easy for her to start laughing, to brush her speech off and claim that it violated their agreement in front of the train station. Then they'd be able to move on to a better topic, or better yet, call it a night and avoid any more of these situations.
Instead, she sat there, captivated, almost terrified, hyper-aware of what Honoka would do next.
This wasn't like those comfortable silences that Umi had grown accustomed to. No, this silence was daunting. Yet at the same time, it was tenuous, the result of too many feelings that Umi now wish she had left unsaid. They sat there, staring, standing on a string stretched too tight. Either the weight of the silence would collapse beneath them, or one of them would take the leap themselves. The end result would be the same.
"I don't want you to go." Honoka took the leap. "Do you know why I never said that?"
"Why?"
"Because it won't change anything. You're right: I have to accept it. I just haven't accepted it yet." As her face shifted, the moonlight caught a glimmer running down her cheek.
"Honoka." Umi closed the small distance between them and brought her hand up to Honoka's cheek. When she brushed one tear away, another one took its place, so she cupped the side of Honoka's face and used her thumb instead. "This is what happens when you keep those feelings all bottled up like that," she murmured.
Honoka offered no resistance. She reached for Umi's other hand and, upon finding it, interlocked their fingers. "It's not the first time." Her voice was almost strangled.
"I know."
In the moonlight, Umi could see Honoka's eyes on her. She seemed content just to watch, and Umi was okay with that. It was understandably difficult for her to talk at the moment.
But after a few moments, Honoka replied with a strangely unconvincing "...yeah. I guess you do."
Umi paused. Her hand was already quite damp, and as a result of her stopping, the tears simply rolled over the edge of her thumb on their way down. Honoka's tone was… odd. Were they referring to the same thing?
She couldn't tell. The room was still clothed in darkness, and even though her eyes had long since adjusted she wasn't able to see what Honoka's free hand was doing, the shape of her mouth, or anything else for that matter save for her blue eyes. She had almost none of her usual tells. She wanted to bolt up and switch on the light, but she knew that this strange, intimate moment wouldn't survive such an alien presence. There was only one other thing she could do.
"Honoka?" Her voice was shaky with trepidation. "Is there something else on your mind?"
For the first time in minutes (or was it seconds? Hours? How long had they been sitting here?), Honoka looked away.
Umi unraveled her hand from Honoka's and brought it up to the other side of her face. It came away wet. "You can tell me."
Silence, save for the occasional sniffle.
Earlier that day, Honoka would turn cold when their conversations got too implicative. If this situation was at all similar to those earlier ones, Umi would have realized that pressing for more information was a bad idea. But perhaps because of the moonlight, illuminating only a slant of the room, the real and pressing fear that once they woke up the next morning all of this would be lost, some combination of the two, or something else, Umi leaned in. She didn't realize how close they already were until their noses almost touched.
With a gasp, Umi finally realized the nature of their position. She held Honoka with both of her hands, while tears rolled slowly down her face. The two of them lay hardly an inch apart. Honoka was staring at her mouth.
Her instincts told her to pull back and apologize, but Honoka's eyes (and her silence) indicated otherwise. What did Honoka want her to do?
Umi leaned in further, never breaking eye contact. She pressed her lips to Honoka's cheek, coming away without a sound.
She had done something like this before, as a purely friendly or comforting gesture. But here, under the watchful eye of Honoka, it was different.
It was wet, for one. Salty, too. But as Umi pulled away, she couldn't help but think about how warm Honoka's face was. It was as though that warmth had spread through Honoka and into Umi through that one simple action.
So simple, yet so implicative.
Through it all, Honoka said nothing. Her eyes had become considerably wider. The moonlight set her entire face in a silver glow. She was now crying freely, silently.
Umi couldn't bear to see Honoka like this. Her heart twinged. She leaned in again and began to kiss her tears away. Still no response from her. She didn't even move. Her breathing might have become sharper, shallower, but otherwise she simply lay there, and let Umi kiss her.
She didn't know why, exactly. She could have just continued brushing Honoka's tears away with her hands. Or, better yet, said something to comfort her. But she didn't trust her words at this point.
Was this any better? Umi was doing this for her. Was it enough?
Perhaps she was too lost in thought, for one of her kisses touched the side of Honoka's mouth. She knew by its dryness and the way that its gasp sounded close to Umi's ear.
She jerked back, an apology on her own lips, but Honoka's face belied no anger or even bewilderment. Her eyes were simply wide. With surprise, shock, or perhaps even wonder, Umi didn't know, but it was more neutral than she would have expected. All the while, Honoka reached up to where Umi held her head in her hands. She took one in her own, and when Umi gave her a small nod, she laced their fingers together and lay them in her lap.
Then Honoka closed her eyes and closed the distance between them once more. This time, she kissed Umi properly, on the mouth.
It was Umi's turn for her eyes to go wide. She looked down but could only process Honoka's long eyelashes. Her eyes failed her here, since these new, warm, not entirely unwelcome feelings overpowered her. Honoka had since stopped crying, but her cheeks were still damp. One of Umi's hands still cupped her face. The light, airy breaths each of them had to take. Their fingers, tightly interlocked on Honoka's lap. And, of course, the warm, quiet desperation of Honoka's mouth against her own.
They were little things.
Their lips parted without a sound. Once again, Umi expected one of them to launch into an apology, stammered words that would fail to explain away what they just did, words that would finally shatter this delicate moment they had been suspended in.
Once again, silence won out. Honoka took her in with her straightforward eyes, her mouth still slightly open. But if their feelings were at all similar in this moment, she was probably scared too. Umi was. She was scared as all hell.
Honoka got up. Their hands were still joined, so Umi stood as well. When Honoka sat down on the bed, her back against the wall, Umi was almost pulled down with her. They sat side by side.
When Honoka's eyes followed the side of Umi's face, down to her open mouth, Umi didn't resist. When Honoka took her face in her hand and tilted it towards her, Umi didn't resist. When Honoka kissed her again, gently, Umi closed her eyes and returned it.
Umi's desire for either of them to say something, to bring this moment to an end, dissipated into the cold night air. This was what Honoka had wanted, so Umi would give it to her.
Would it be enough?
"I love you."
Sometime, at some point during the night, those words had been spoken.
Umi wasn't sure how many times. Whether they had been whispered hurriedly, said with earnestness, one time after another, after another… She was only sure that she hadn't just heard them in her head, in the middle of this silent, delicate affair.
It was Honoka. It had to have been Honoka. These were her feelings, not Umi's. Because Umi didn't want to hear those words. They were too implicit, too much of a reminder that what they did tonight might not be forgotten in the morning.
She was doing this for her.
The next morning.
Umi stirred to the early-morning sun, which poked through the blinds and snaked under her eyelids. She tried to move, but quickly found that she was more or less pinned. She couldn't roll onto her side to escape the sun.
She opened her eyes, squinting as she adjusted to the surprising brightness of the room. An arm lay across her. She turned, with what room she was able to.
Honoka lay next to her, facing Umi but still peacefully asleep. All of last night's memories came flooding back to Umi at the sight. Without thinking, she reached up and touched two fingers to her own mouth.
They came away dry, with no indicator of what they had been through the night before. What did she expect? Did they really do all of those things, during that… that tryst?
Perhaps that was too strong of a word. They did nothing but kiss, feeling each other in a fairly modest way. 'Modest' was subjective, of course, since before last night Umi hadn't so much as breathed in the direction of any potential interests.
But clearly she hadn't been looking in the right places. It would be more accurate to say she hadn't been looking at all. Of course she'd miss the writing on the wall if even her closest friend had developed some sort of attraction to her.
How long had she felt this way? Was there any writing to miss in the first place? Umi struggled to recall any out-of-place instances where Honoka had been staring at her with no explanation, asked Umi for romantic advice, or otherwise acted suspiciously.
...Then again, there were multiple instances of her doing just that yesterday. But that gave no indication of how long these feelings had been inside her.
Umi watched Honoka's sleeping face. With those same two fingers, she touched the other girl's mouth. Warm, but also dry. Once again, they gave no sign as to what happened between them last night.
What would Honoka say after she woke up? Would she greet Umi with a smile, but make no reference to last night's events? No, it clearly meant too much for her just to drop it, if her confession last night was any indicator.
"I love you."
Umi flinched as the words echoed in her head, as clear as if they had just been spoken aloud. But Honoka continued to sleep the morning away right next to her.
That's what she had said. Umi had absolutely no reason to doubt her. She was serious about this.
So… did that mean she would want more? Most likely. Umi had all but accepted her, after all, without so much as a protest.
As Umi lay there, the feeling of those gentle, loving kisses washed over her. She didn't know how long it would be until she looked at Honoka's face and didn't think of what they did.
That morning, in the bright, exposed sunlight of the early morning, the previous night's events seemed less hushed, less secretive. They weren't buried or forgotten; in fact, Umi's memories of last night were detailed down to every quiet breath and caress.
There would be consequences for her actions. She should have known that. So why did she forget, or even worse, why did she fly in the face of that fact?
It was for Honoka. Umi wanted to give her what she wanted, just for one night.
...But of course, if her feelings ran as deep as Umi thought they did, she wouldn't be happy with just that. She would want more. Of course she would want more. And Umi wouldn't be able to give more to her.
Umi turned away. The sight of Honoka's sleeping face was grossly inappropriate for what she was thinking. Gently, she eased herself out from under Honoka's arm, breathing a sigh of relief when the other girl didn't stir. She crept towards the door.
In the bathroom, she propped both of her hands on the sink and stared into the mirror. Her face was a lot paler than she realized. She brought a hand up to her eye-level. It shook and jittered violently.
"Oh, God. Oh God, oh God."
What had she been thinking? Under the pale soft eye of the moon, it might have seemed like a good idea. But her expression in the mirror revealed that it was short-sighted, selfish, and frankly, idiotic.
She turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on her face. When she looked back up into the mirror, Honoka's face stared back at her. Her eyes were puffy, swollen. Her hair stuck out in the oddest places. She mouthed, silently, but Umi could read her lips:
"It wasn't worth it."
Umi flinched. She reached for the mirror, but by the time her fingers made contact, her own haggard reflection had since taken its place.
She did that. Technically, she hadn't yet, but that was surely how Honoka would react when Umi confessed that this was all a mistake. Her own mistake. She couldn't accept Honoka's feelings, not permanently. She just didn't feel that way, even if in this moment, she wanted to, if only to avoid the fallout.
Honoka's expression in the mirror had been hurt, but more painfully, it was betrayed. Her feelings were a delicate matter, so of course they had to be handled as such. Instead, Umi had treated them like they were disposable, like they could be tossed over her shoulder and forgotten once she was done with them.
And she was about to do it again. Because she was a coward, because she didn't know if she could handle seeing that expression again.
She left the bathroom, pale and nauseous, a shaking hand covering her mouth. Back in the bedroom, Honoka still hadn't moved. Quickly, before her moral compass forced her to rethink what she was doing, Umi dug into her bag and pulled out her notebook. Once she had a pen and paper, she inhaled deeply.
Her writing hand trembled so much that the pen fell out of her grasp and clattered onto the floor. She snatched it back up, glancing at the still-sleeping Honoka.
"She'll understand. She has to understand, for her sake."
With her shaking hand, she penned out her message:
I'm sorry. Goodbye.
By the time she had placed it on her side of the bed, it was lightly stained with her tears. Silently, she cradled Honoka's peaceful face. It was the last look she would get at it for the near future, but she couldn't see it clearly through her tears.
She left, crying and without a sound. She couldn't think about it. It was all for the best.
That afternoon, she waved goodbye to her parents and boarded the train. She had said her goodbyes to the others earlier that week, and as such no one else showed up.
Honoka never called, messaged, visited at her house, or appeared at the train station. It was the first time in a long time that she felt truly alone.
By the time she finished, Umi's gaze was affixed firmly to the ground. Her fingers trembled; she curled them into fists failed to prevent the shaking.
While she had left out the most… intimate details in her retelling of that night's events, said details had still replayed vividly in her mind as she progressed through the story. How could she forget them? The whispered confessions of love, the feeling of Honoka's breath on her cheek, and, of course, the kisses. Never before had Umi thought that Honoka would be the one to offer her those experiences, the same Honoka that had tumbled headfirst into her life when they were kids, the Honoka that she spent all of those years with; she had seen the worst and the best of her alike, she had taken all of it in stride, and never would have imagined an outcome like this.
Nico was the first to break the uncomfortable silence. She said what Umi knew was on all of their minds in this moment.
"You're an asshole."
Umi clutched at her sweater but kept her gaze riveted to the floor. She heard multiple gasps and knew that the other two girls had glanced sharply at Nico upon hearing this.
"It's true! Look at her. She knows how badly she fucked up." Nico folded her arms, glaring in turn at Nozomi and Maki. "You two know it too. Don't act like I'm the villain here."
"Okay, but you saw how hard it was for her to recount that," Nozomi pointed out. She cast a sympathetic eye at Umi. "You can put it less bluntly."
Nico followed Nozomi's gaze, but her face seemed to harden further. "She wants to know our opinions, and I gave mine to her. I know what she did, so I'm not concerned about hurting her feelings."
"You should be," said Maki. "This is a really sensitive topic. Umi didn't trust us with this so you could scorn her."
Nico's glare shifted to Maki. "I'm not scorning her. She needs someone to tell her that! That stuff is not excusable!"
Umi looked up. The three girls all stared back at her with varying degrees of apprehension. She sighed. "Nico's right. I'm not here for anyone's sympathy."
"Thank you!" She turned, exasperated, back towards Umi. "You know, if you'd done this to anyone else, I'd tell you to cut your losses now. You're here to fix all that, right?"
"That's a large part of it."
Nico wasn't finished. "I mean, you pretended to accept her feelings, and just when she was at her most vulnerable, you abandoned her."
"Thank you for putting it so succinctly." Umi sighed. "But I didn't pretend to accept them. I really did accept them, just for that night."
Nico stared, her mouth open. "I kind of want to punch you."
"Nico-chan, please -"
"I won't." Her hand flew up, and Umi jumped slightly because of Nico's supposed threat. "It would get me fired. Honestly," she zeroed back in on Umi, "it's also a good thing you waited so long to tell us. If this had happened, say, a month ago? You'd be on the ground by now."
Umi's mouth creased into a tight line. "That's good to know."
"Yeah, and I don't think any of us would've been too sympathetic to you."
Nozomi shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I can't say for sure, but… it really sounds like you screwed up. And you mostly have yourself to blame."
"It's true that Honoka probably shouldn't have been so bold." Maki drew the stirring spoon out from her latte, placing it on a napkin. "It sounds like she wasn't thinking, just like you. Hard to blame her for that, though."
"As you can see." Nico jerked her thumbs towards them. "You did all that, and you were sure you didn't return any of those feelings?"
"No. No, I didn't. I think I would have known."
"So why'd you do it?"
It would be ridiculous for Umi to not have an answer to this after years of dwelling on it. She knew that. But after a moment, her shoulders slumped, and her hands fell, defeated, back into her lap. "I don't think there was one reason. It was the combination of all of these… factors." She grimaced at the cold, calculating nature of that word.
"Please, tell me what these 'factors' are." Nico folded her hands in front of her.
"Before I do, they won't justify what I did. But I still cited them as reasons to leave that morning."
"I'm all ears."
"Okay. Um…" She shook her head, wondering where to start. "I… wanted to do one last thing for her before I left. I saw her feelings as a way to do that, if only for one night. It wasn't until the morning after that I realized I didn't take her feelings seriously enough. And then I started thinking of what would happen when I ultimately rejected her. That what we did the night before shouldn't have happened. It would have been better for us to forget it all."
She shook her head. That wasn't entirely correct. "That applied to Honoka, of course, but it might have applied to me even more. I think, out of everything else, I was scared. Of our entire future, to put it simply. I was scared of my own feelings, which I still wasn't sure of yet. If I didn't have any feelings for her, then of course temporarily accepting hers was uncalled for.
"But if I did have feelings for her, that might have been even more terrifying. Did that mean I was obligated to take that next step with her? Especially when I was going to be away from her for most of the year?
"That might have scared me more than anything else. Once I started to imagine all the ways it could go wrong, I tightened up. Those thoughts were overpowering and… well, it's probably accurate to say I wasn't thinking straight ever since I showed up at Honoka's house the night before. But I didn't even consider how much I could have been hurting Honoka. Even if I did, I probably would have reasoned that it was for the best."
"When did you realize that you were wrong? That it wasn't for the best?" It sounded like a misleading question, but Umi agreed with the sentiment.
"As soon as I put the note on her bed. It wasn't too late for me to take it back, but… Well, it's like I said: I was a coward."
Nico shook her head sadly, making a sharp tsk-ing sound all the while. "And that's the tragedy of this story. Honestly, what did she see in you?"
Umi's laugh was humorless. "That's what I want to know."
"Off the record: you and Honoka?" Nico pursed her lips. "It's… kinda weird to imagine."
"So it's not just me."
"Yeah. I mean, you two were always at odds with each other. You almost never saw eye-to-eye. On anything."
"That's not entirely relevant," Nozomi interjected. "Compatibility or not, Honoka-chan's feelings seemed quite genuine. You two had been friends for so long and made that work. I'm not trying to equivocate that with a relationship, but…"
"It fell through because you just didn't return her feelings," Maki finished for her. "And you kinda screwed up in showing that."
"That's why I said it's off the record." Nico sighed. "Anyway, huge fuckups aside, you're here now and trying to make amends. So I guess I can give you that."
"Wait." Maki cut in. "Didn't you meet with Honoka yesterday, and you said it went fine?"
Umi nodded, but then realized that she'd had a second meeting with Honoka last night that Maki was unaware of. 'Fine' was not the first word that came to mind when she thought of that late-night rendezvous. "It was…" She hesitated. "Well, it seemed like we were friends again."
This drew looks of surprise from her two seniors. "Did you talk about any of that stuff?" Nico asked. She gestured towards nothing in particular, but it was clear that she was referring to the events that Umi had just recounted.
"No."
"What the heck did you talk about?" Nico questioned, her voice low.
"We…" Umi bit her lip and tried to look everywhere except at Nico. She had to word this carefully, so as not to further incite her senior. "We caught up. She asked me about college, I asked her about running the shop. We talked a bit about the old days, and how our current lives do or don't match up to that. But like I said, most of all it seemed like she just wanted to be friends again."
Nico sat back and Umi sighed with relief. "I… guess that makes sense, if she wants to make up with you."
Maki nodded. "If that's the mood she was going for, there's no way she wanted to talk about all that other stuff."
"If I met someone for the first time in a few years and I wanted to bury the hatchet, the last thing I'd want to talk about is all those messy mistakes." Nozomi said.
"That being said, you need to talk to her about it soon." The look in Nico's eyes was fierce. "You left in the worst possible way, and I bet she still feels strongly about it."
"That's exactly what I'm afraid of."
"Cut this 'afraid' bullshit. You've been hiding from her for way too long, and you still don't know how she reacted when she found out you left. Or what she thought of you afterwards. Her true feelings, basically."
"She probably doesn't know yours, either," Nozomi added.
"Exactly." Nico gulped down the rest of her coffee and stood up so suddenly that her chair rattled. "I think I spent too much time on break. You know what you have to do, Umi." She walked to Umi's side of the table and gave her a painful slap on the back. "Good luck."
When Nico reappeared behind the counter and greeted a waiting customer, she wore a rehearsed smile that was slightly uncomfortable to watch. Umi's back stung where Nico had hit her. "Ouch," she muttered.
Nozomi turned back to her with a nervous smile. "Sorry about that, Umi-chan. Nicocchi's, well… y'know."
"She'd defend Honoka to the death if she had to," Maki clarified. "She probably feels indebted to her, in a way."
"Aren't we all?" Nozomi shrugged. "This is our former leader we're talking about."
"It's no problem," Umi said as she ran a careful hand across her back. "She's right: I probably needed to hear a lot of that."
"It took you awhile, but it's good to see you're finally ready to face your mistakes."
"I'm not looking forward to it, but yes. I couldn't have run forever."
"You walked out on your best friend and holed yourself up five hours away at college because of it," Maki muttered, more to herself than to Umi. "Suddenly, a two-year absence becomes a little less crazy."
"It wasn't entirely for the purpose of shutting myself away." She turned to Nozomi. "What I said earlier is still true: it's pretty easy to lose track of time when you're living away from home."
"Oh, I believe you," Nozomi said. "You just have a bit more to catch up on. For Honoka-chan, and for the rest of us."
Umi realized that, for all they talked about yesterday, she'd missed out on a few crucial details about her oldest friend. "How has Honoka been, by the way? From how shocked everyone looked, it seems she didn't tell anyone about us."
The two girls exchanged a glance. "Well," Nozomi started, "she'd never mention you unless I asked her about it. When I realized that she didn't know anything about your college life either, that's when I started to suspect something might be up. You two wouldn't just stop talking, just like that.
"But other than that I had no clue. About either of you, really. Whenever I visited her at the shop, she'd always ask me about how I was doing. Never any interest in talking about herself. My life's not that interesting, but somehow she made it work every time I visited." She smiled wryly. "She's kind of become a mystery, and she won't let me figure it out."
"She's kind of the same way in the group chat." Maki glanced at her phone, which until now lay dormant on the table. "She'll ask about everyone's day, but never talk about her own. And when she's not part of a conversation about someone else, she's linking silly videos for the rest of us to laugh at. Maybe that's how she spends her free time?"
So Honoka's been good at hiding it. Umi thought about yesterday's conversation on the rooftop. For now, that secret was still theirs to keep. "There's probably more to it than what she's showing," she said with this in mind.
"That's pretty clear now. Still, out of the few times she did mention you, I never picked up any resentment or ill will," Nozomi said as she stared into her empty coffee cup. "That doesn't mean she's forgiven you one hundred percent, but…"
"It's not a bad place to start," Maki added.
"Yeah. I hope so too." Umi offered both girls a smile.
Nozomi tilted her head. Apparently her interest had already shifted elsewhere. "Why'd you come back, Umi-chan?"
Umi's smile vanished. "Didn't I just spend all of Nico's break time explaining that?"
"No, why'd you come back now?"
"Was that explanation not satisfactory for you?" Umi sighed.
"It was more than satisfactory, but it doesn't account for the song. You come back and tell everyone you're writing a song? What's up with that?"
"Why is that so suspicious?" Umi asked, confused.
"You haven't written any music since we called it quits."
"I had no reason to."
"Exactly!" Nozomi raised a finger in the air. "Something must have pushed you towards songwriting again! I just can't see you saying 'I felt like it' and that's all there is to it."
"That's a… grotesque simplification of what happened," Umi qualified.
"So there is more to it than that!" Nozomi's eyes were gleaming.
"Yes." She looked towards Maki. Her junior nodded, encouraging her to continue. "To make a long story short, I've been having these recurring dreams for the past year. Once the details became clear to me, I wrote them into this song, and I want to see it through to the end. That's the other reason why I'm here now."
Nozomi let out a short whistle. "Must have been a hell of a dream."
"It was."
"Are you still having those dreams?"
"I'm…" Umi paused just as she was about to confirm this fact. She realized it was quite the opposite. "I… haven't had one since I wrote down the lyrics."
"That so?" Nozomi nodded to herself, but her brow remained furrowed. "How mysterious."
Maki looked somewhat surprised. "I didn't know that."
"I hadn't thought about it until now," Umi shrugged.
"Oh, speaking of which," Maki jabbed her fork at Umi, "I'm almost done writing it."
Umi was taken aback. "With all the parts?!"
"Yeah. I couldn't show you yesterday since I only have a piano and guitar at my house. I've made a lot of progress since then anyway."
"That's wonderful!" For the first time that day, a genuine, uninhibited smile graced Umi's face. "You're really something else, Maki."
"Really, it's nothing." The redhead waved away the compliment. "We're trying to secure recording sessions for the day after Christmas."
"So soon?"
"They're talented players and fast learners."
Nozomi, who had been observing the conversation intently, said: "Sounds like the fruits of your labors are coming together, Umi-chan."
"That's one way to put it." Umi rubbed the back of her neck, but her smile persisted.
"Can I hear it?" her senior asked.
"When it's finished, yes."
"Hopefully, that'll be before this break is over." Maki thumbed through her phone's notes. "I should have a set time by tonight."
"That's right, we're still meeting up to see the lights," Umi said.
"Are you seeing them with Honoka-chan?" Nozomi raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, the two of us will be going with Kotori."
"We'll meet up with you too, but I hope you have fun. Don't be afraid if the opportunity's right."
Nozomi reached out and patted Umi's shoulder.
Umi knew what, or rather, who she was referring to. "I think it's still too soon." The coffee churned in her stomach.
"That doesn't apply to just tonight." Her senior shrugged. "It's timeless advice."
Umi wasn't entirely convinced. "Thanks," she said, regardless.
"I really think Honoka should hear this song now." Maki was still going through her phone.
"And why is that?"
Maki shot her a look. "It's your song, Umi. You can figure it out."
Umi sunk down closer to the table and sighed. It was unsettling to think that Maki knew about her song than she did. But that was part of the songwriting process, right? She hoped so, although she'd never had an experience like this when she wrote for μ's.
Her thoughts drifted to tonight. Christmas Eve. Tonight would be fun, even if Nico's advice would be bouncing around in her head the whole time.
More Notes: Thanks again to all my wonderful readers for slogging through. I know it's daunting to think that, more than 50,000 words in, I've just barely laid out the entirety of the conflict and things don't seem like they're getting better, but trust me: I want Umi to find her redemption just as much as you do. She's been through a lot, and she's put Honoka through a lot. It's about time she gets on her way.
As for what exactly that entails, that remains to be seen. If it's any reassurance, I think we're more than halfway through at this point.
Thank you all again for reading :) crazy to think we've been at this for more than a year. Let's try not to make it two.