SEVEN

Carol glares at her.

She raises her eyebrows in return.

"No. I don't want to go to school."

"Alright," she agrees, closing the door behind her. She chooses to sit at Carol's desk, relatively close but not too close to Carol's position on the bed.

Carol's glare intensifies.

Miku waits.

Carol's glare drifts from Miku to the bedcovers. It's less of a scowl, and more of a pensive, brooding frown.

This isn't one of Carol's tantrums about not wanting to put up with the Matou boy at school. This is… uncertainty. Carol glowers, but that anger masks something more like pain—Miku, after all, might as well be an expert at obfuscating hurt with anger.

"I'll call the office to let them know, and I'll ask Hibiki to pick up your homework."

Carol shrugs. The movement isn't enough to hide Carol's flinch at Hibiki's name.

She sighs. It's one step forward, two steps back again with Carol and Hibiki. If only Finé hadn't gotten in the way, if only Hibiki's father hadn't hurt Hibiki so deeply, if only Hibiki hadn't gone to that Zwei Wing concert—if only, then none of them would be here. There's no point in wishing for that, because that would mean... losing everything she has here, right now, with Hibiki and Carol and their friends. What she has here, right now, means more than hypotheticals. It simply must mean more.

Does Carol understand that? Has anyone ever explained this concept to Carol?

An idea blooms in her mind: food can serve as both a distraction and a medium, the perfect way to discuss these things without cornering anyone involved. They can talk, and they can feel safe. With that stroke of inspiration, she declares, "We're going grocery shopping."

"What?" Carol startles out of brooding, giving Miku the opportunity to hustle her out of bed.

"Since we have all this time on our hands, we can spend as long as we want in the kitchen." Food. What kind of food to make? Something easy, like soup, but exciting, something like—"Crêpes. What do you think of crêpes? A crêpe bar? Sweet crêpes, savory crêpes, and whatever other kind of crêpes there are, we just need to pick up a few ingredients from the store. I think we ran out of flour, too." She tries to figure out the last time she used flour, can't recall, and realizes she doesn't even know where the flour is stored.

Her heart somehow feels like it's beating faster, she can't contain a smile, and Carol thoroughly eschews brooding in favor of boggling at Miku.

It's one of her more brilliant plans.

And so, they find themselves walking to the market. Over-large sunglasses hide her own surprise when Carol takes her hand as they walk; Carol isn't a small child to guide through the streets, but Miku consciously tries not to draw attention to how her hand tightens around Carol's small hand.

Miku isn't… well, she isn't an optimistic person. When she was younger, when she and Hibiki became friends and during the early stages of their relationship, she had been mostly happy and hopeful (except, of course, that time that Hibiki had died for a few months). That could have been called optimism: for a person constantly left behind while their significant other went on dangerous missions, optimism makes sense. How else would someone endure the constant give-and-take?

This is how.

The sun warms their faces, she swings their hands a little, and Carol starts asking questions—why are crêpes so popular here, how are crêpes here different than crêpes in Germany, if crêpes are like thinner Eierkuchen then does she think they could make Eierkuchen (also known as Pfannkuchen outside of Berlin)?

It reaffirms Miku's quiet philosophy. This is how she endures (and more, when possible, which is often). She wants Carol to know this.

"We don't have a list," Carol says once they're standing in front of rows and rows of aisles, baskets in hand.

"No," she agrees. She scans the aisle names, finds the baking section, and nudges Carol's shoulder in that direction. "We need flour. The rest… we'll think of stuff as we go. It works for Hibiki, doesn't it?"

Carol's expression scrunches into displeasure, but then she says with a mischievous twinkle, "Sometimes," and goes up on her tiptoes to reach for a bag of flour with both hands. Somehow, Carol manages to precariously wiggle and balance a bag into her hands.

Her own hand quickly steadies and takes the heavy flour. "Thank you. What else should we get?"

Carol hums, rotates to look at the shelves around them, and points, "Chocolate sauce! Caramel sauce, strawberry sauce, real strawberries, and pears, and apricots! Not the canned stuff. Can we make caramel?"

"Yes, and we can make chocolate sauce from scratch, too, and make whipped cream from heavy cream. Cream cheese for cheesecake flavors, and let's get some ricotta—"

"—Nutella, peanut butter, bananas!"

"Mushrooms, bacon, spinach, basil."

"Ham! Potatoes, sauerkraut with sausage!"

A crêpe with sauerkraut and sausage? It sounds like something Maria might enjoy. Maybe they can compare recipes, and she can ask how much Elfnein's tastes vary from Carol's… when they're back on speaking terms.

She stops, watching Carol bound ahead to the produce section.

Elfnein.

Nothing else has changed, except Elfnein's presence. Obviously, this is what troubles Carol.

She catches up to Carol, who's critically examining a couple of pears, and smiles.

Regardless of ulterior motives, she and Carol are having fun. The rest can wait until later.

[***]

"Hmm." She stares at all the ingredients cluttering the kitchen table. "I remember the basics… should we consult a recipe?"

"Google has lots of recipes," Carol replies, already scrolling down the results page on Miku's phone. "Sweet or savory?"

"Let's start with the sweet ones, since we have more fillings for those, and we can save some savory ones for Hibiki's dinner."

"More for me!" Carol grins.

[***]

'Later' comes when Carol bumps into the bag, spilling flour down the side of the kitchen table.

She only hears a thump, an Eep!, and a sneeze. By the time she plates up the last of the sweet crêpes and turns around, the silence has taken root in Carol and the clouds of flour have settled. There's powdered white on Carol's blonde hair, which shadows Carol's eyes and expression. Carol's hands are in fists.

"Hmm," she runs a finger over the table. "At least it's not hard to clean up. Can you get some paper towels, please, Carol?"

Of course, Carol doesn't move.

"Carol?"

Carol draws in a deep breath that trembles when she exhales. "I messed up. Again." Carol shakes her head. Another deep breath. "I keep messing up." Fists clench even more tightly, knuckles more distinct. "Why—?" Carol's voice breaks. Then: "Elfnein hates me."

Carol's hand is even softer with the spilled flour. She pulls Carol into a hug—the kind of hug she learnt from Hibiki, the kind of hug that grounds her in the present.

She says the barebones of the truth to this child:

"You're here, Carol. I'm here. We're here, right now." Carol's little hand in hers shifts as she pulls back to meet Carol's gaze. Carol regards her with wide eyes. Even behind the blocky frames and the sheen of tears, the blue of Carol's eyes arrests her in its intensity, all of Carol's attention focused on this peculiar fact. She returns that intensity solemnly, repeating, "You're here, right now, and we can't go back to then, somewhere else. Whatever else is true, this is real."

Carol blinks, astonishment chasing away the tears. Her narrow shoulders straighten and her chin rises back to its usual confidence.

"Do you understand?"

"Yeah."

[***]

And when Hibiki comes home—there's still plenty of sunlight in the day, but it's no rival to Hibiki's immense smile upon finding them surrounded by crêpes and ingredients and smeared in flour—Carol drags her fearlessly by the hand to show off their creations with loud descriptions and slips of enthusiastic German.

That is more than enough to make her feel better about the uncertainty regarding Elfnein, Maria, and Tsubasa.

[***]

They're in bed when Hibiki finally asks, "You let her stay home from school?"

She says, as casually as she can, "One missed day of classes does not matter more than her emotional wellbeing. Carol has a lot on her mind that would distract her from learning."

Hibiki only hums and nods, turns the light off.

What's better than one success? Two successes, of course. As cute as Hibiki is when she sulks over food, it's disheartening when Hibiki broods over things that should be in the past (what other than Finé's reappearance and its consequences can be the root of Hibiki's current preoccupation?), so instead of letting them drift to sleep, she scoots closer to Hibiki and probes, "Carol's not the only one with stuff on her mind."

Hibiki twitches, shoulder brushing Miku's.

She breathes slowly, keeping her eyes open to the dark grey ceiling of their bedroom, and lets Hibiki make a decision.

"I… I just don't understand," Hibiki finally says. "Finé kidnapped the children. We were so—so scared. Why would Finé do that?"

"Did you expect differently?" She doesn't say it to be harsh; she's genuinely curious. Almost all of Hibiki's missions remain classified to this day, and all of Miku's knowledge comes from little offhanded mentions, throwaway remarks, accumulated over the years.

"She promised." Hibiki presses more closely against her, half on top and half not, head firmly tucked under Miku's chin. Frankly, the arm underneath Hibiki has gone numb, but… she has missed Hibiki's closeness. She has missed Hibiki's body pressing against hers. She has missed Hibiki's warmth—even the incessant fidgeting of limbs and chins digging into her.

"Promised?"

"Mhm…. She promised me. She said she'd stop hurting people. I believed her… and then she took Carol and Elfnein. Why?"

That's one hell of a promise from someone who had been a villain for such a long time. Miku forgot how to live in the present. Chris forgot how to be soft. Finé must have forgotten these things and others, too. "Are you sure she meant to hurt anyone?"

Hibiki finally stills.

"She's here, you know. Maybe you should ask her while she's here now."

"…I will." Determination colors Hibiki's voice.

It and the resolution in Carol's posture earlier are enough to keep her going another day.


a/n:

I'm going to try something, maybe not next chapter, but the chapter after that, or someplace else. I'm not sure. I had to finish this chapter because I didn't want to start experimenting partway through the chapter, lol.

Anyway.

Imagine if canonical Kirika and Shirabe were to meet canonical Finé (the Finé who tells Hibiki to follow her heart's song, the Finé who protects/saves Shirabe).

I'll reply to reviews soon!