Author's Note: This didn't really make it into the actual story, but I liked it enough so I thought I'd attach it as sort of an extra chapter.
Mari staggers down the sidewalk, the constant droning of the cicadas ringing in her ears. Their songs echo in the encroaching darkness, growing louder in the shadows of the buildings where lights fail to reach. Mari welcomes the white noise; she wishes it was louder, so it would chase away all the thoughts in her head and leave it blank. She knows little of Gendo Rokubungi- only his face and his name- but each time she recalls them, a pain shoots through her like needles being pressed into her skin, and each time she stops, only to begin the cycle anew.
After walking for hours, everything from Mari's face, red from the cold, to her legs feel like they're burning. She needs to return home soon, only Mari doesn't know where home is. Her mindless wanderings and the setting of the sun have left her disoriented.
A lamp flickers up ahead, and Mari glimpses a bench beneath it. She lurches forward, grateful for the promise of rest. Once she's had time to recharge, she'll get back up and try to find her way back: or that's what she plans to do. Her nerves fail her five feet from the pool of light; her already tired legs lock up and freeze. Standing next to the bench, visible now in the faint radiance, is the first landmark Mari's recognized in hours. All this walking has done for her is take her back to the start.
"Nothing goes right for me, huh," Mari spits, moving slowly towards the familiar tree. The upper branches appear to suck in all the light from the nearby lamp post, blotting out even the faint glow of the moon. The perfect place to be, she thinks.
Dropping her bag at the base of the tree, Mari seeks out the hand and footholds from before. They welcome her back, urging her closer like the friend she believes never will. The bark scrapes against her skin as she climbs, raising jagged red lines on her arms. Mari pays them no mind as she pulls herself up, perching carefully on the branch.
When she angles back towards the path, she recognizes none of it. The night has twisted everything beyond what she can recall, and only the bench remains the same. If she tries hard enough, if she squints the right way, Mari can just make out Kyoko sitting there, scorn on her face as she chastises Yui for-
No. Mari closes her eyes, wrenching her head in the opposite direction. The sudden movement makes her head spin, and for a split second she feel's like she's about to fall. Her hands grab the branch with an urgency she's not seen since the first week of classes, and it's then that Mari knows it was a bad idea to stop here. From this portion of the campus, the dorms should be only a fifteen-minute walk away. Just a little while more, Mari tells herself, and then she'll be on her way.
Leaning against the tree, Mari allows her eyes to wander back towards the bench. With the way the light flickers, it looks like a scene from an old movie. She watches the lamp shudder, struggling to stay lit, and a smirk finds its way to her lips. In a way, they're both alike- fighting to fulfill a purpose no one will appreciate, not until they've both failed and someone else has to pick up the pieces.
Or, in Mari's case, she gathers herself back together on her own.
With a final, valiant sputter, the light bulb winks out, plunging everything into darkness. Her eyes unaccustomed to the sudden change, Mari gropes about for the branch beneath her, making sure it's still there. Yes, it is, and she lets herself relax again.
The buzzing of the cicadas grows louder in the absence of light. As her eyes slowly adjust, Mari notices movement further down the walkway. She tenses, pulling her knees up to her chest and wiggling back against the trunk. The figure draws closer, and Mari makes out a humanoid outline, partially obscured by a long coat. Her stomach shrinks when the figure lifts its head, almost looking directly at her.
Unease becomes all-out panic as the figure starts forward rapidly, heading straight for the tree. Mari scrambles to her feet, looking for a way up into the higher branches, but with such little visibility, it's no use. The footsteps stop directly beneath the tree, and Mari's heart stops along with them.
Then she hears the most welcome sound she's heard that night.
"Mari?" Yui asks, peering up into the branches. "Is that you? I've been looking all over for you!"
"Oh. Yui," Mari replies, her voice weak. "You scared me."
"Hold on, let me come up there. I can barely see you!"
"Do you need help?"
"No, I have it!" Yui grunts, slowly inching her way up the tree. "You made this look so easy," she complains. Mari edges over as Yui brushes past her, taking a seat on the same branch, just a few feet out from the trunk.
"Why are you here, Yui?" Mari barely holds back the edge to her tone, but she knows Yui hears it anyway.
"I needed to talk to you."
"Well, we're both here. What is it?"
"Mari, about what happened in the library..." Yui shakes her head, and the leaves around them rustle. "I didn't know you felt that way. I'm sorry."
"You shouldn't be. It's stupid, anyway."
"It's not stupid!" exclaims Yui. "That's- I never meant to upset you, Mari. If you had just told me-"
"Then what? It would still be the same."
To that, Yui has no response. Mari is right, and both of them know it. Yui sighs, the sound lost in the whispering of the wind, and the branch trembles. Mari shivers, her jaws ground tightly together to prevent her teeth from chattering in a stubborn gesture of strength.
"You're cold," Yui remarks, removing her lab coat. "Here. Wear this."
"I don't need your pity."
"Mari, don't be silly. You're going to get sick." Mari turns away as Yui reaches over and drapes the garment around her shoulders, fastening a button to keep it in place. Though she won't admit it, the cold vanishes almost instantly, and for that she is grateful.
If only it hadn't been Yui.
The silence stretches on, seconds dragging by with painful slowness. Yui seems content to say nothing, though occasionally she throws a glance at Mari to make sure she's alright. Mari recognizes the look on her face from those brief moments of eye contact. She's seen it before, always accompanied by a quiz or a study session. When Yui gets determined, it is best to yield, and so Mari does.
"Yui, just tell me what you want so I can go."
"I don't want anything, Mari. I just wanted to be here for you."
"Fine job you're doing," Mari scoffs. "If the only thing we're going to be doing is sitting up here all night, I'm lea-" She freezes. Surely that warmth isn't what she hopes it is- but she's right, and her heart soars. Yui's arms settle around her shoulders and slide down to her waist, pulling her closer.
"Yui? What are you doing?"
Yui doesn't respond, but one of her hands leaves Mari's side to thread through her hair. Mari's breath catches, and as Yui's head settles gently against her neck, she knows she has to say something.
"If this is supposed to make me feel better, I'm not buying it," she snaps. "Stop lying."
"What if I'm not lying?"
Mari's hands clench with an audible crack. "Yui. Why?"
"I care about you, Mari."
"Like you care about Gendo?" Mari chokes back a laugh, struggling to maintain her composure. "You know, you probably could've found me faster if you'd just asked him to help you. Why didn't you?"
"Not everything is about him." Yui's voice is painfully close, so close that Mari has to look away, her blank expression finally wavering. "Mari, just forget about him."
"I will if you do." This time, Mari's too slow to stop the words from leaving her mouth. Her shoulders slump as she feels Yui move away, no doubt repulsed by her selfishness.
Then she feels the hand on her cheek. She can't bring herself to look at Yui, to see what must be pity marring her beautiful face, but when Yui guides her head around, it's not pity she sees, but a smile. "I can't do that," Yui says. "But I can help you forget."
"With what? I don't think anyone's invented memory serum yet."
"Just close your eyes."
Mari's heart skips a beat, skips three beats. Yui is still smiling patiently, and Mari wants to ask if this is all a joke, and if Gendo and Kyoko are lurking somewhere nearby to laugh at her. But she still trusts Yui, and so she follows her instructions, unsure if her hopes are too high, if she's misjudged her friend.
Yui's hand leaves her cheek.
Time itself stops.
There is nothing. No touching of lips, no affectionate gesture. Mari waits long past what any reasonable person would have waited, and when she finally opens her eyes, the light from the street lamp blinds her.
Yui and her lab coat are gone, replaced by the cold air. Something rolls down Mari's cheek- not a tear, but dew, dripping down from the leaves above. As Mari pushes herself away from the trunk, the campus clock strikes midnight, its final peal echoing when Mari's feet hit the ground. The blades of grass beneath her are wet and untouched; she is the first to disturb them this morning.
After such a long period in the tree, Mari feels numb- every part of her, even her mind, hums along with the ever-present cicadas. The last moments of her dream loop through her thoughts, taunting her, and every time she pushes it away, it comes back in vivid clarity. Amazingly, she holds herself together long enough to climb the stairs of her dorm and collapse onto her bed, while the last shred of her consciousness tells her she'll wake up with leaves in her hair, and Yui nearby.
She wakes with the sun in her eyes- and of course, it was only a dream.