Me: oh i'm done with this
Also me: ((writes a second chapter weeks later)) ok NOW i'm done
It's gray, watery sunlight when she wakes the next morning, alone in Aizo's bed. But not alone in his room; Aizo himself is snoring on the floor on a futon, with all the extra pillows Hiyori had said she didn't want. Yujiro had taken the couch.
She thinks if there had been another futon, they would've all slept in the same room.
If she had been (if they all had been) brave enough, they could have shared Aizo's bed, barely big enough for them all. Elbows and knees and bothering the others upon needing the bathroom; she wouldn't have cared. Alas, that had been a bridge too far for her emotional vulnerability.
She creeps out of Aizo's bedroom to find Yujiro already up, working on breakfast. The time of day, and what day it is, blare into her head, causing her to gasp so sharply she chokes on her own spit.
"What the hell, Hiyori? Don't die," Yujiro comments unhelpfully, not even turning from the stove.
"It's— it's Monday, I have to get ready for school and my uniform's at home, and...!" She gets it out around coughs, sitting heavily in a kitchen chair.
"I went to your house and got your clothes."
"Y-You what?"
"And your book bag. And also, your face is fine, if you don't mind using Shibasaki's soap for one morning I'm sure that'll do."
"What did you tell my mom?!" Her voice is hoarse but still forms a half-scream.
"You were sleeping on Aizo's couch after a study session. I live a little closer so that's why I was picking up your things."
Relieved, she sighs, head plunking onto the table.
"Hey, dumbass, what are you doing to Hiyori?"
"Feeding her. And us. So ungrateful."
"Guys, stop, it's way too early for fighting," she whines into the table. But their voices don't hold as much bite as usual, like someone sanded the sharp edges. She sits up and cranes her neck to see Aizo, and Aizo's bedhead, and immediately turns back, face burning.
"Thank you for the food," says Aizo flatly. And equally flatly, sitting next to Hiyori, "Don't make a mess of my kitchen."
"We have to leave in an hour in a half," Yujiro responds, carrying over steaming plates of rice and eggs. "Why are you still in pajamas?"
The rest of their bickering fades out while Hiyori, stomach growling, practically inhales her plate (after a hasty thank you). Scraps of last night come back to her as she eats, warming her chest. It seems like everything has reset, gone back to normal, and she doesn't really mind, but...
But she misses their closeness already.
She doesn't want to believe it was a fluke, but she also most definitely is not going to bring anything up. So: normal school routine it is. Well, as normal as it can be after waking up in Aizo's apartment with Yujiro having retrieved her school supplies.
They let her get ready first, which doesn't take long. And then they leave together, her between them, and she's at least brave enough to take their hands.
The school day is like any other, the bright and sunny weather burning away any lingering lurking thoughts. The boys might sit a bit nearer to her at lunch, and they're certainly arguing less, but nothing new besides that. When they go home, sunset clear and cool, it's to their own homes. None of them talk about the previous night, even though Hiyori can almost feel it between them, like if she just touched their hands, she could unlock the words for all of them.
The next three days are bright and sunny; the routine is similar, with that underlying slightly-different feeling. They still don't talk about that night. They talk about the festival LIPxLIP will play at a month from now, talk logistics and travel and merch.
Friday dawns pleasantly enough, but the sky turns gray by mid-afternoon, and the wind on the way home is wet and heavy.
A light drizzle has started by the time the three of them reach Hiyori's doorstep. Her chest feels heavy now too, dangerously so. Want is welling up in her, the latest wave since that night, and it's gotten more and more difficult to keep it buried.
Aizo grips her shoulder; she turns, gasping lightly.
He's looking down, bangs hiding his eyes. "I have leftovers at my place that are still good, and I can't eat it all, so, you two should come help."
Yujiro snorts, not looking at either of them. "Maybe I need to cook dinner in your kitchen sometime too, then."
Aizo's pink cheeks are obvious even in the gray light. "Also. Doing homework alone sucks in this weather.
Hiyori nods furiously, half-thinking she must be dreaming. Or hallucinating. "O-Okay, yes, I'll do my best to help with the food!"
Beaming, she ducks inside to tell her mother where she's staying (and really, bless her mother for not teasing or worrying or anything stereotypically Mom-ish, how lucky is she?), packs an overnight bag, and scurries back out, rain clothes forgotten in her happiness.
They sit on the couch after their homework is done, after sitting so close they nearly knocked heads more than once. She and Yujiro are on either side of Aizo. She finds herself stealing glances at him, face warming.
And then she snuggles into him, pressing tight, reaching for and taking his hand.
His face reddens, but he leans right back.
Hardly daring to breathe, she tries to see Yujiro and can't quite manage it. But she feels Aizo's breath trip, and moments later Yujiro's fingers, then palm, reach her shoulder.
Aizo shifts toward him, and Hiyori is pulled along.
She can't not breathe; she inhales as carefully as she can, takeout utterly forgotten. Then Aizo makes some comment definitely about the show they're watching, voice soft, and she ekes out a hum of agreement.
The tension... doesn't snap. More like it relaxes, and Hiyori feels so cozy it's almost as unbearable as that tension. A shiver ripples through her, seems to set off the other two, but no one moves.
The thought nags at her in the middle of a commercial break: So. It's something for the weekends, then. She could learn to be all right with that, really is all right with it, if Aizo and Yujiro are as comfortable as they are now with her and each other.
When she insists on taking the couch (even though it isn't what she wants), Aizo claims the futon.
She spends far too much time over the weekend thinking about that.
Her weekend theory is destroyed by the next Monday, during which it rains all day. She wants to ask, feels brave enough to, but the boys beat her to it and part of her wanted them to bring it up first anyway.
Aizo has gotten another futon, so they all sleep in the living room this time, with him on the couch.
Tuesday is clear and... well, whatever this new routine is has settled into her bones now, so the urge to Talk About It has died down greatly despite their switch to normalcy(?). Whatever this is, it's hers and Yujiro's and Aizo's.
Wednesday is an outright storm at the school day's end, and so Hiyori outright proclaims that this time they're going to Yujiro's, and Aizo had better bring the extra futon because Yujiro was staying in his bed, thank you very much.
They boys accept without a peep of complaint.
Hiyori wants to fly down the street. It's the weather, she's realized giddily; all this set in motion by her emotional crisis over a week ago. For whatever reason, the boys are so much closer, more intimate, with each other and her in autumn rain and cold. It's like they created a secret in those dark clouds, a silver lining for them and no one else.
If this is all she's getting (but what more does she want?), then she'll grasp it with both hands. She'll appreciate it just as much as their time together at school and on stage.
And if she treasures these particular times just a bit more than the others, well, she's the only one who knows that.