Efforts and Changes: Umi Sonoda
"Do you ever wonder, Umi, what others think of you?"
"P-pardon?" Not that you didn't hear or weren't paying attention, no. It's simply that the question is… an odd one, especially coming from Nico of all people.
Moreover, you aren't about to admit that it's a thought that occasionally (often) creeps into your mind; that would be much too personal an answer for a question of mere curiosity's sake.
When Nico regards you with almost uncharacteristic gravity, however, you pause to reconsider her question. If it means this much to her, then of course you must meet her with equal seriousness in return.
Still, you don't want to give too much of your own insecurities away—ironically enough, you are quite aware that you have an image to uphold.
"I think, well," you can't help but let your eyes stray to Honoka and Kotori on the other side of the rooftop as you answer, "I think it is a natural, human impulse to do so. I cannot deny that I occasionally dwell on it, myself, every now and then." You turn to Nico for her response, to see where she is going with this.
Nico nods and she, too, looks to Honoka and Kotori.
"But some people," she muses, "some people wonder more than others, don't they? And then it becomes something more."
You frown, not quite understanding. "Everyone is different… and I would not say it makes you less of a person for it," you say, because you know what it is like to fret over others' opinions, and perhaps Nico is beginning to compare her slight vanity to Kotori's modesty.
Nico scoffs, glaring at you, "I'm not talking about me, dummy." Her eyes once again stray to Kotori and Honoka, and her expression softens. "No… I'm just wondering what Honoka thinks of herself."
Your eyebrows go up in surprise this time.
"Don't you ever wonder, too?" Nico adds when she catches your startled expression.
"Of course not," you dismiss the notion. "Honoka's too confident to question herself. If anything, I wish she would think more about her reputation with others; it would save me a lot of headaches and time, I'm sure," because goodness knows you've spent far too long chasing after Honoka.
Shaking her head, Nico says, "That's not what I meant. This isn't about wondering if your clothes are weird, or if your hair is nice, or if your laugh is too loud, or if they like your joke—none of that stuff is what I mean."
Isn't that, though, precisely what it means to wonder what others think of you?
Before you can ask for clarification, Eli claps her hands to announce the end of practice, and then Nico quickly slips away, only pausing to give you a scrutinizing look on her way out the door that is entirely too cryptic yet just enough to linger in your thoughts.
And so you wonder, glancing intermittently at Honoka's cheery face, what Nico had meant.
What does Nico see in Honoka that you cannot?
"What's with the ruckus?"
You turn to greet Eli, who has her head poked out of the student council room and looking bemused. It's then that you realize that she probably heard you shouting after Honoka.
"P-pardon me," you give Eli a shallow bow, "I might have gotten carried away in chasing down Honoka." You grimace.
"Oh," to your surprise, Eli laughs sheepishly and gestures for you to join her inside.
Although you aren't one to say no to your upperclassmen, you consider excusing yourself, since Honoka really should get around to studying for the upcoming quiz and if you let her escape now it'll be that much harder to get her to focus when you next track her down.
Then again, Kotori will probably have better luck getting through to Honoka.
"We won't take long, I think. Actually," Eli chuckles, "we've been wanting to talk to you for a while now, Umi."
"We?" you echo, following her in, but then you notice Nozomi by the windows; of course, you should've remembered that Nozomi rarely lets Eli be by herself in the student council room. "Ah, good afternoon, Nozomi."
She faces you briefly, giving you a smile, but her focus returns to whatever it is she's looking at outside.
Eli gestures to an empty seat as she takes her own—you have to shake off the faint feeling of being in a student-teacher conference when Eli leans forward with her hands clasped on the table and a stern expression on her face.
"About Honoka," Eli pauses to glance at Nozomi, who keeps her back to the both of you, "I have to ask that you please give her some leeway for now. I have given her a certain matter to think about, you see, and while I know it has distracted her somewhat," and here at least Eli has the grace to look guilty, "it is important."
It makes you wonder why Eli speaks so obliquely of this "matter." What could she possibly ask of Honoka that you, Umi Sonoda, cannot know? You hope Eli has not fallen into the same trap that Kotori has, always babying Honoka and making excuses for her.
Perhaps it's that twinge of suspicion and disapproval that enables you to remark, "Honoka has not said anything to indicate that she has important matters on her mind."
At this, Nozomi finally turns to watch, interest clear in her expression (and making you slightly uneasy).
"That is for Honoka to know," Eli says in return, frowning slightly to indicate that you're about to overstep your boundaries; it's not often that Eli exerts her authoritative aura, now that µ's has become so close-knit, so it comes as a surprise for her to stand so firmly in this.
Your shock must show on your face, because Eli softens again.
"Honoka will tell you herself when she comes to a decision, I promise."
Somehow, that doesn't sit well with you.
It also reminds you of that peculiar question Nico brought up the other day.
"Umi," Nozomi interrupts your thoughts and you turn to face her, "I had a certain conversation with Honoka yesterday—" a certain conversation. Why so vague?—"that lead me to wonder. You, as one of her oldest friends, might be able to clarify this for me." Nozomi crosses her arms.
You frown more deeply, and your earlier unease returns. This, indeed, strongly resembles a scene you had thought long buried: Umi Sonoda trying to defend Honoka Kousaka to the principal and homeroom teacher. The parallel in Eli and Nozomi's positions is not lost on you.
And so you brace yourself for one more accusation.
It's not like you hadn't expected this to eventually come up. They, all of µ's, had to have noticed by now. Your job is to nip it in the bud here.
"Has Honoka always been like this?"
You meet Nozomi's gaze steadily as you probe, "Has she been like what, precisely?" You need to know Nozomi's stance on this in order to formulate a proper rebuttal—as caring as Nozomi may be, you are not about to let that sway you into a false sense of security.
Not where Honoka is concerned.
"Has she always had trouble with deciphering people's expressions?" is Nozomi's question, posed cautiously but straightforward nonetheless.
It is not accusatory.
You nod curtly.
Eli chooses this moment to interject, "Really? I've never noticed." She appears genuinely taken aback.
"She's practiced," you say with a touch of pride seeping into your voice.
"But she didn't know what wry meant," Nozomi points out to your own surprise. "I made this expression," she demonstrates a wry smile, "and she asked me what it meant."
You consider what this means.
On one hand, if Honoka felt safe enough to ask Nozomi, then perhaps you don't need to be wary of Nozomi—Honoka's judgement of people tends to give them the benefit of the doubt, but in this aspect she does exert some caution.
On the other hand, Honoka's judgement is skewed. Detecting deception is beyond her current understanding.
"Yukiho," you reply at last, "helps her learn new expressions and body language. Sometimes, however, Honoka forgets. It is… difficult. Honoka is a tad defensive when it comes to this. If she asked you to clarify—" here, you give Nozomi your most stern frown—"then she wholly trusts you."
It's an oblique warning, to test the waters.
"That might explain it," Eli murmurs with a troubled frown. "I wondered why… and now I've gone and upset her, haven't I?"
Bristling at the admission, you snap, "What did you tell her?"
Honoka hadn't seemed upset when you saw earlier today—distracted, yes, but you are quite used to her being absentminded—but what if you missed something? What if—
"Nothing bad," Nozomi intervenes, "and it really is Honoka's decision, whether we upset her or not." The look she gives you is, well, wry. "You can't protect Honoka from the world forever, Umi. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that you shouldn't."
You aren't going to get anything else out of Eli and Nozomi.
"If you will excuse me, I need to find Honoka." You dip your head to them as you leave, but Nozomi says:
"Please, Umi. Give her the benefit of the doubt."
"Umi!"
You flinch, not having expected to run into anyone here—in fact, you'd been counting on the fact that you wouldn't.
But it would be rude, and perhaps even a tad cruel, to leave Hanayo hanging like that, so you slow your steps and crane your neck to locate the girl in the crowd. You briefly catch sight of a frantically waving hand about a dozen feet behind you but, oddly enough, you can't see Hanayo herself.
"Help meeee!"
Ah, but you definitely hear Hanayo's helpless wail, leaving you no choice but to dive into the crowd. You apologize to a few people as you bump into their bags and shoulders—luckily, you don't step on anyone's toes and you quickly find Hanayo behind a rather large man and a few old ladies.
"Pardon me," you tell the ladies, who smile up at you, and take Hanayo by the shoulder to guide her through the mass of people.
When you emerge on the other side of the street—you question it momentarily before deciding to leave it well enough alone—you note, "I could hardly see you in that crowd."
"I-I have a knack for spotting people," Hanayo chuckles sheepishly. "T-thank you for saving me!" She beams up at you.
"It was nothing," you murmur (hoping your face isn't beet red).
"But it is!" Hanayo insists with startling—perhaps even a bit flattering—vigor.
You are bad with compliments, so all you can manage in response to Hanayo's kind words is a rueful (and probably awkward) smile.
She continues, "You're always helping us, Umi, from physical training in µ's to tutoring me and Rin to helping us out completely outside of school and idol practice! I—" Hanayo blushes—"I really admire that about you. It's… it's sort of my goal to become someone reliable like you," she ends in a near-whisper that you strain to hear.
At this point, you're quite certain your face is aflame.
"You give me too much credit, Hanayo, really," you say, partly because Hanayo is giving you too much credit for such a minor thing, and partly because…
Honoka likes to praise you like this, too, whenever you let her. Well, Honoka likes to sing everyone's praises, so it's not so important—but. Every time… you can't help but feel a bit… false, undeserving of such acclaim.
"No," you murmur, casting your eyes back to the bustling crowd, wishing for the anonymity found there, "I am not someone to admire."
"Why not?"
"Huh?" You furrow your forehead in confusion; you hadn't expected to be questioned.
Hanayo repeats, her eyes regarding you with both curiosity and concern, "Why not? You are someone to respect and admire, Umi. Everyone knows that."
You want to tell Hanayo that you don't deserve any of it. How could you, when you can't even properly help Honoka?
"Maybe I'm just too modest," you chuckle weakly. You want to get away from this unexpectedly probing conversation. You need to keep your shields intact for what's to come.
Hanayo laughs, as well, though her laughter is genuine.
She believes your excuse, and you nearly sigh in relief.
Unfortunately, Hanayo then moves the conversation to wonder at why you're in the middle of the shopping district instead of at afterschool archery practice—what was that saying? Out of the frying pot and into the fire?
"Honoka said you would be a while and that you told her not to wait for you, so she went with Kotori to Akihabara," she says, not quite a question but approaching it.
"Listen—I—it's been nice seeing you, Hanayo," you say even as you begin to edge away, towards the crowd, "but I just remembered—I have to go."
You flee, because you don't want to see this through.
"Hey, can I talk to you for a sec, nya?" Rin accosts you just as you head out to lunch.
"We'll save you a spot by the tree, Umi!" Kotori calls back over her shoulder as she and Honoka abandon you to your death. Honoka even briefly turns to give you an enthusiastic wave—does she not see the desperate plea scrawled on your face?
No, of course she doesn't, so you reluctantly turn to face Rin, who reclines against the wall across the classroom doors.
Rin wears an uncharacteristically troubled frown; you steel yourself lest that troubled frown turn into a true scowl of anger. You should have seen this coming.
"How can I help you, Rin?" you ask, because perhaps this is merely a case of one of your underclassmen seeking an upperclassman's help on something.
"I talked to Kayochin," Rin says and crushes your hopes, "she told me 'bout what happened afterschool yesterday, you see. She was really upset, nya."
You close your eyes.
Guilt, your stalwart companion, wells up in the back of your throat. You hadn't thought that Hanayo would take it so harshly—ah, but you remember her shining eyes when she told you how much she admires you, and then you abandoned her with such a flimsy excuse.
So you bow, tucking your chin into your chest, "I sincerely apologize, Rin, for behaving so disrespectfully towards Hanayo. I will find her at once to apologize to her, as well."
"Uh, thanks… but that's not what I'm talking about, nya!"
As you straighten, you frown—what else is there to talk about in regards to what happened yesterday? How is this not important?
Rin levels you with her own disbelieving look.
"We're worried about you, me and Kayochin," she tells you with the utmost seriousness.
"T-thank you for your concern…?" You intended it as a statement of gratitude, but your bewilderment leaks through. You hasten to add, "I'm quite fine, however."
"Nope!" Rin shakes her head adamantly.
Frowning, you echo, "No?"
"Nope!" she repeats. "Something's on your mind, Umi, and we can tell it's really bothering you, nya. Why don't you want to talk about it?"
It is true that you have had something on your mind—several things, in fact, as of yesterday's encounter with Hanayo—only you don't think it's anything serious. Not as serious as Rin makes it out to be, at least.
"I'm afraid—"
"C'mon, nya! I know where to go!" Rin takes you by the arm, and thusly you find yourself dragged down the corridor, down the stairs, before you can utter even a shout of surprise or a word of protest.
Rin drags you to—to Kotori and Honoka.
Though, not exactly. Rin's grip keeps you locked in place, dozens of feet away from the tree where Honoka and Kotori are eating lunch; they cannot see you from your vantage point by the school doors but still your heart trembles.
"Listen up, Umi, 'cause this is important," Rin sternly instructs you. "Hanayo and me have been friends since we were kids, nya?"
You nod despite not at all understanding Rin's line of thought.
"I rely on her a lot. She's the first person I go to—whenever I can bring myself to talk," and Rin chuckles wryly. It is somehow unsettling, seeing such an expression on Rin. "I mean, I get it, nya. You don't wanna say it out loud, 'cause that makes it too real. It hurts so much and you just… you just don't want to make yourself hurt even more.
"But see them, there?" Rin points to Kotori and Honoka, who are in the midst of laughing at something.
There is clearly something you have missed here. You cannot fathom why Rin is so serious, so unyielding in this.
So you look to Kotori and Honoka, as if they can give you the answers to questions you haven't even formed yet.
You find yourself staring at them: Kotori's genuinely delighted smile and Honoka's relaxed posture and the easy coexistence between them.
Inexplicably, your breath catches in your throat and you think—you love them both so, so much that it is almost a physical pain in your sternum.
"Honoka and Kotori are your friends. It'd mean a lot to them if you just tried. You don't even have to say anything, s'long as they know you're reaching out, nya!"
"Thank you, Rin," you say almost automatically.
As you turn away from the sight of your best friends, you murmur, "You've given me a lot to think about."
"—zoning out!"
"P-pardon?" you ask as you jerk back into the present, where Maki looks a hair's breadth away from launching into a stern lecture about wasting her time because—
Ah, that's right. The two of you are supposed to be working on the upcoming song for μ's. You are in the music room, and everyone else has gone home.
"I said, stop zoning out," Maki repeats with a dangerous frown. "Geez, what's gotten into you? You're never this distracted."
The beginnings of a blush creep up your neck; you mumble, "Nothing."
Maki scoffs.
In the back of your mind, you remotely note that Maki could really give Nico a run for her money as the grumpiest in µ's.
"Say," and the abrupt hesitance in Maki's voice makes you turn to her, "would you happen to know anything about why Honoka's been…." Maki hunches over the piano, though it's barely effective in hiding her blush. She mutters, a trace of forlorn wonder in her tone, "She's been distracted, too."
The grumpiest, but with a heart of gold.
"I'm afraid she hasn't said anything to me."
Maki gives you a doubtful squint—you must admit, it is odd being on the receiving end of suspicion. What a peculiar sensation.
"Are you sure?" she presses.
Oh. It looks like Maki is being protective of Honoka. When did that happen? People rarely dive into Honoka's mind, believing that the shallow waters near the shore are all that pertain to Honoka's nature.
That is, after all, what you did… at first; of course, you understand Honoka much better now—don't you?
"I am… not sure," you admit. You voice this concern for the first time since Nico set the ball rolling.
"Why?" There is only hostility in Maki's voice, but you are glad. Glad that Honoka has made such a loyal friend—someone who will defend her and protect her and understand.
Unlike you.
You have taken Honoka for granted, haven't you? You have let yourself fall into a rut—you are hurting Honoka.
Becoming friends with Honoka was a mistake. You have shown, time and time again, that you would rather mold Honoka into your own image rather than accept Honoka as she is, haven't you?
"I—" your voice cracks. Your cheeks burn red as you clear your throat, but you need to say something. "I am glad you are Honoka's friend, Maki. She needs someone like you." This, this is why you aren't someone to look up to.
You shouldn't be a role model when all you've done is turn a blind eye to the person you claim to love.
"H-hey, now," Maki stands as you walk to the door, "I didn't mean—"
"Perhaps," you find yourself murmuring, explaining, "let us say that someone felt they owed a great debt. Perhaps this person also realized that their savior… is nothing more than a regular person. Perhaps, these two facts have troubled her for—years, let us say, so long that it has become….
"And, above all, perhaps this person never bothered to talk to their friend." You shrug, your hand on the doorknob.
Maki calls after you, "She'll understand when you do talk to her."
You've been thinking this entire time, but you've been looking in the wrong direction, and maybe Maki has a point: it's high time you talked.
"We're all worried, Umi," Kotori says; she huddles beside you, the bed shifting from her weight, and you tighten your hold on your knees.
"I'm sorry," you mumble, "I'm no good with this."
Her hand tugs at yours. You let her.
"Nozomi and Eli asked me about Honoka—and about you, too, you know."
You sigh, "I hope you gave them a better answer than I did."
Kotori shrugs, her shoulder brushing against your own.
Your eyes find a framed photo on Kotori's bedside table: the three of you, small children, holding hands with Honoka front and center.
Honoka has always been your center.
"It's… it's weird, isn't it, having friends who want to understand?"
"Yes."
"First it was just me and Honoka—our mothers were friends, so naturally we were, too, from the very beginning. I don't think," Kotori pauses to hum thoughtfully. She shakes her head, "No, I don't think it was obvious at that time that Honoka was different. It was after we met you that I saw it."
You recall, being six years old and being yelled at for something Honoka had done—you remember the confusion scrawled on Honoka's face, and the tears that had resulted afterwards, when you snapped at Honoka in return. You hadn't liked getting in trouble when you weren't even the one at fault.
You were… angry, at first. Angry that Honoka kept pretending to not understand, angry that Kotori didn't see anything wrong with it, and angry that your new friends (your only friends) weren't as perfect as you'd thought.
But then Mrs. Kousaka had taken you aside to explain; you no longer remember what it was that she'd said, but you do remember your disappointment.
That is what has stayed with you all this time: disappointment because the person you admire doesn't even exist.
"Rin said something odd," you say. Kotori tightens her grip on your hand, almost to the point of painfulness. "Prior to that, however, Nico asked a question—one I never would have asked on my own.
"It… bothers me." It lingers under your skin, like some sort of persistent feeling of having forgotten something.
Or—of having overlooked something.
Softly, Kotori asks, "What did she ask?"
Here, you have to pause. It strikes you how it truly is peculiar to be discussing this. For so long, it had been only the three of you. Now—now you have all of µ's, an impetus to confront old wounds.
"What does Honoka think of herself?"
This is what you have overlooked. This is what the rest of µ's has seen that you, Umi Sonoda, could not because you were too close and too far away.
Kotori sighs heavily, maybe even guiltily.
"Isn't it obvious, Umi?" she whispers.
All this time that you spent trying to change Honoka—trying to fix her, as if she were broken, just because you needed someone to hold your hand. It is obvious, now, that you have hurt Honoka in the process.
You disregarded her feelings entirely in favor of your own.
"But I had good intentions, didn't I?"
Once you had gotten over the shock of your disappointment, hadn't you done your best to help Honoka? You haven't been trying to change or fix her. You just want to make things easier—
For yourself.
"Umi," Kotori says your name with years' worth of memories and weight, "good intentions aren't everything."
"So it is," you whisper.
It's something you know from experience, from Honoka's good intentions and bad failures.
It's not as simple as you had made it out to be.
But now you have all the pieces of the puzzle; now you know what to do with them. You're not floundering anymore.
Taking a deep breath, you turn to face Kotori directly and pull your hand away from hers. You look into her eyes and say, "Thank you. Will you do me one more favor, Kotori? There is something I must do."
"Anything, Umi," she smiles.
"I need to talk to Honoka tomorrow—alone."
"I have something to say."
Honoka meets your eyes across the desk—determined and grave.
Wait, you want to say. You want to interrupt her, to apologize first, because it's not Honoka's fault at all and you need to tell her before she spends even another second hating herself—
But as your knuckles whiten on the edge of the desk, you can't bring yourself to take this moment away from Honoka.
"I'm going to be student council president," she tells you, completely taking you by surprise, "I know I won't be the best at it, and I'll slack off, and I'll make mistakes, and I'll depend on you guys a lot, but—but I'm going to prove that I can do it."
This is where it culminates: it's 'you can't protect Honoka from the world forever' and 'you are someone to respect' and 'Honoka and Kotori are your friends.'
"I've—I've got lots of things that my friends gave me, you see, and, and I want to put them to good use!"
Honoka's blue eyes blaze with that determination you cherish so much.
You see it now, that Honoka's her own person regardless of what you and what the rest of the world think.
She smiles—wry—just as unsettling as Rin's expression had been, if not more so because this is: Honoka, your hero.
This is the person who rescued you from yourself. This is who Honoka Kousaka is.
"It's worth the effort," she says. "There are parts of me that don't fit in," her face reddens, "but you're my friend, Umi. That means something—right?"
Your heart breaks at the squeak of insecurity in that last word.
For all that you've fiercely tried to protect Honoka from teachers, from schoolyard bullies, from her own mistakes—you have failed to protect Honoka from yourself. You have made Honoka feel… inferior to you, because you made it seem like you didn't like her.
Which, well, is true to an extent. You were a little kid in need of a role model. Honoka seemed like she would be the one, until you realized that she was a far cry from your imagination's impression, and you simply couldn't reconcile that fact with your childish hopes.
And Honoka has suffered quietly.
"It does," you agree. You can't convey the entirety of Honoka's importance to you in those two words, but you hope she hears the weight in your voice.
That thought makes you smile—you know full well that Honoka will overlook it.
"U-Umi—"
"I'm so, so sorry I didn't realize how you felt, Honoka," you croak. "It was never my intention to make you feel inferior to me, to everyone else."
No, that wasn't your intention.
What will you tell Honoka?
"I only wanted to make things easier for you—that's why I've been so harsh. I've only ever wanted to help you, even when it got frustrating. I shouldn't have taken your attitude for granted, however. That is truly an unforgivable error on my part, Honoka."
You could elaborate on what you mean by 'when it got frustrating.' You could tell her how your drive to make it easier on her was partly fueled by your own disappointment. You could tell her how you struggled to accept her.
You do not. It is unnecessary here.
She closes her eyes.
You wipe the tears from your eyes as you stand. Your friend needs you just as much as you need her, and for the first time since you met disappointment, you are certain that this is what you need.
"I thought you were trying to change me," she whispers, her voice wobbling.
What matters is that Honoka is perfect as she is. You don't need her to be this larger-than-life figure. She's already extraordinary in her own right, unchanged from the moment she pulled you from behind that tree when you were children.
"No," you sigh, kneeling beside her. "And I thought you didn't care." You made the mistake of thinking she didn't mind your efforts to help her.
"No," she echoes, hunching over to clutch at your hands. "I do care." Her touch is almost desperate.
You have to smile, squeezing her hands in your own—regardless of your mistakes, and of the fact that Honoka might never understand, you are happy now.
The past will rest there, in your memories instead of in your every interaction with Honoka; you have finally, finally resolved the conundrum that has plagued your subconscious.
"Let us go," you stand, pulling her up with you, "let's tell Eli you've decided."
You are happy, too, because Eli and the rest of µ's are the friends that Honoka and you need.
For all of your flaws, you at least have this.
But then your arm goes taut when Honoka stops walking; you glance back at her, questioning, your heart skipping a beat because maybe you haven't said enough.
"I'm not going to change," she declares. "I'm going to learn, and maybe I'll get better, but I'm not going to change."
A feeling akin to coming home wells up in you when you reply, "I wouldn't have you any other way, Honoka."
That's the only truth you need.
/\
a/n:
Due to encouragement/interest/inspiration here on FFN, I wrote a chapter on Umi's side of things. It gave me a lot of grief, lol. It was significantly more difficult to write - three versions and then some - though I think I am finally at peace with how it ended. Umi gave me some trouble, perhaps because there were several directions this could have gone (and did go, according to the number of drafts I wrote); I hope I stayed more or less true to her.
Last, but certainly not least, thank you to fallouise and AshuraX and Honoka's Parfait and guest for leaving a review! ^^ You all made my day.
For guest, however, I can't send a PM so I'll reply right here: I'm glad you enjoyed it! That heavy feeling is a bit nice, in its own painful way, isn't it?
Thoughts, ideas, questions, concerns? Feel free to leave a review! ^^