Chapter Text
The bluebird call becomes their thing over the next few days and Ena uses it whenever she wants to get Mizuki’s attention. This morning is no different, Mizuki hears the call while walking along one of the town's many dirt roads. She spins around to look behind her and Ena smiles.
“Didn’t I promise you I’d show you our farm?”
“Right now?”
“Sure, dad thinks you and Aspen can lend a hand and there are things I want to show you too,” She grabs her hand. “So hurry up! The faster we get the boring stuff out of the way, the faster we can do stuff that’s actually fun!”
Ena takes off and Mizuki stumbles after her. Their hands stay intertwined the entire way to Ena's farm.
Mrs. Shinonome is happy to see her again and profusely apologizes for all of the fighting from last time. Then she offers her so many snacks and sweet treats to take home that Mizuki's head starts to spin. She tries to refuse, but Mrs. Shinonome is apparently just as stubborn as the rest of her family and absolutely insists on preparing her a treat basket for when she has to go home. She says she's even bought dog treats for Aspen. After a while Mizuki finds she doesn't have it in her to refuse anymore and gives in. Mrs. Shinonome claps her hands excitedly and rushes off to the kitchen to prepare. Ena giggles behind her, smirking like she knew what the outcome would be even before the interaction had occurred.
“So the kid came back after all.”
She spun around to find Mr. Shinonome sitting on a couch in the living room. A cigarette is in his mouth and its smoke taints the air around him. If Mizuki were not already accustomed to the smell, she would have surely choked on it. He's staring at her with what looks like indifference but Mizuki knows better. She's able to pick up the disdain flickering in his eyes, dulled by the nicotine he's staining his lungs with. She knows he doesn't want her here. His eyes flicker to a spot between Mizuki and Ena and she realizes they're still holding hands. She stiffens and lets go, tugging lightly to get Ena to do the same, but the other girl only tightens her grip. When they look over to her, they see defiance in her glare and grab onto her hand once more. They give Mr. Shinonome an apologetic smile.
He sighs. “Where's your mutt?”
“Outside,” she tells him, “You said he couldn’t be in the house last time.”
“And that rule still stands, so don't lip off to me, kid.” Mizuki flinches at his tone and he settles back down. “I got a job for him today, so grab ‘im and let's go.”
He walks away, cigarette still between his teeth, not even sparing a glance behind him to make sure they were following. Ena squeezes her hand and whispers in her ear.
“You don’t have to be afraid of him. I won't let him hurt you.”
She nods but doesn't otherwise respond. She has a feeling there's a dusting of pink painting her cheeks. Their hands stay intertwined the entire walk to the front porch where Aspen sits waiting.
Mr. Shinonome scrutinizes him for a moment before asking, “What breed is he?”
“A mutt,” she answers, “We don’t know what he’s mixed with.”
He sighs, “Then what’s his purpose?”
“He’s a guard dog, but I just think of him as—”
“Some guard dog. He’s so small I doubt he’d actually be able to fight anything off.”
“He can bite. All dogs bite.”
“We can kick. All people kick. Some even shoot.”
Ena steps in. “Are you done threatening her dog? Can we get to work already?”
Mr. Shinonome scoffs. “Alright. It's a good thing we don’t need him for guarding today.”
He walks away again, this time putting the cigarette out and tossing it in a random direction, not caring where it ended up. He leads them to a small herd of sheep and turns to the two of them.
“This is all I need from you two today, afterward you can go and tend to the chickens or something. I just need the sheep in the fence. Akito and I can handle the rest.”
Ena nods. Mizuki is thoroughly lost. How exactly were they meant to get the sheep into the pen?
Mr. Shinonome offered no further instruction, instead walking away and lighting another cigarette.
Ena scoffs. “Alright then. Let’s get to work.”
“How?” asks Mizuki, “How are we supposed to get the sheep to go anywhere?”
One of them glanced over, completely indifferent to her presence and she doubts any of them would listen to her.
Ena bent down and pet Aspen. “With this little guy, obviously.”
She looks down at her small pup who looks back up at her, likely just as confused as she was.
“Dad thinks Aspen here has some type of herding breed in him. I thought he looked more like a hunting dog, but I guess it’s worth a shot,” says Ena, “So we’re gonna get him to move the sheep for us.”
“Okay,” Mizuki says slowly, still confused, “How do we get him to do that?”
“I read an article or two. Just have him chase them a little and they’ll run right in.”
“And what if it doesn’t work?”
“Then we’ll just bribe the sheep with treats.”
Mizuki shrugs. “Alright then. So what do we do?”
“I can’t really do much. He’s your dog. Tell him to chase the sheep. Or maybe just circle them, sheep get spooked easily.”
Sounded easy enough, except she hadn’t trained him with sheep in mind, only teaching him tricks that were either useful for what she needed him to do or that she found cute. She looked between her dog, Mr. Shinonome, who was watching from underneath a tree a few feet away, and the sheep who were still grazing. She ran through all of the tricks she'd ever taught him and then she got an idea.
She hopped the fence, Aspen following after her. Once she was sure she was in a position where the sheep would enter the pen without trampling her, she gave the dog the command and watched as he ran around the sheep then back to her. Sure enough, despite the fact that Aspen was smaller than them, the sight of their natural predator in their vicinity was enough to spook the sheep into moving. Mizuki beamed with pride as she watched her dog corral the sheep into the pen. Once the last one was in, Ena closed the gate and Aspen returned to her, tail wagging. She made sure to shower him in praise and pets once they were on the other side of the fence again.
“Well would you look at that,” said Ena. “He did it.”
“Figured,” said Mr. Shinonome, “I figured he had some herding in him. He looks like a buhund.”
“I think he looks more like a terrier,” says Ena, “his left ear is floppy like a jack russell.”
“He's a bit too big for a terrier. He’s as scruffy as one though.”
Ena turns to face her. “‘Boomerang,’ huh? When’d you teach him that?”
Mizuki smiles sheepishly. “It was an accident. I had a boomerang a while ago and whenever I’d throw it, he’d chase after it. I thought it was funny so it became a trick.”
Ena laughs and Mr. Shinonome walks up to her, patting her shoulder.
“Who cares where it came from, it worked! Good job kiddo, guess you’re good for something after all.”
She thanks him, ignoring the backhandedness of the compliment and then Ena grabs her hand. “Come on, let’s see if mom needs us for anything. After that, there’s something I want to show you.”
She nods and follows after her, distantly hearing Mr. Shinonome call for Akito.
Mrs. Shinonome does in fact want help with the chickens and they leave Aspen on the porch while they follow her to the coop.
“It’s just egg collection,” says the ginger woman, “but I want you two to be careful. Chickens can get really protective over their eggs.”
Mizuki doesn’t think it’ll be too hard. It’ll just be chickens. They’re small and it sounds like the Shinonomes have been collecting eggs from them for a while now. Surely they’ve come to expect people to come and retrieve their eggs. They can’t be nearly as bad as people are.
Mizuki is wrong.
In hindsight, it makes a lot of sense. The hens have no way of knowing there isn’t a chick in the eggs they protect so aggressively and it’s only natural for parents to want to protect their young. However, in her hypothesis, Mizuki failed to consider one important fact: chickens are mean. Not only do they seem to hold just as much hatred in their small bodies as humans do, (maybe not quite that much, but Mizuki feels she is entitled to some dramatics after being viciously attacked by birds far smaller than her) but to top it off, they possess beaks and talons as sharp as knives. All this is to say that egg collection hurt like a bitch. Mizuki was covered up to her elbow in scratches and a few of them were starting to bleed.
“We should get that patched up,” says Mrs. Shinonome, who fared just a bit better than she did.
“They really tore you apart in there, huh?” asks Ena who looks about three seconds from laughing at her suffering.
The trio goes back inside, where Ena tends to their wounds while Mrs. Shinonome tends to the eggs.
When they’re all finished, Ena asks her mother, “Is there anything else you need or can we go. There’s something I want to show Mizuki.”
“We’re all done here,” replies Mrs. Shinonome. “Have fun you two! Come back in time for lunch.”
Ena seems satisfied as she nods and grabs Mizuki’s hand once more. She pulls them along past the sheep pen, where Akito and Mr. Shinonome are still hard at work. She leads them to a stable where a trio of horses are waiting.
“Welcome to my favorite spot on the farm,” she says.
Mizuki can’t help but ask, “You ride?”
“Sure I do. Have been since I was little.” Ena points to a grey and black horse. “This here is Silver. He’s my horse.”
She opens the stable and the horse walks out. He’s taller than they are and Mizuki wasn’t aware that horses were so big in person. They always looked so small from a distance. Now their mouth gapes in awe as the large creature inspects them. They find they like him much more than they liked those chickens as he was far kinder. He snorts indifferently at her presence.
“You wanna ride him? I’ve had him since I was a little kid and he makes for a great starter horse.”
“Sure. I mean, I’ve never really ridden one before.” Or been this close to one, but she doesn’t mention that part.
Ena laughs. “I can tell. Right now, you’ve got this look on your face like the world is rearranging on itself or something.”
“It’s just that I’m learning a lot about these animals,” they reply, “Like the chickens. I didn’t know they were so mean.”
“Yeah, they’re just like that. I get it though. I mean, I wouldn’t really appreciate it if someone just barged in and tried taking something special to me away like that. I’d probably fight back too. I guess I’m kinda like them.”
Mizuki snickers. “So, Enanan is a chicken.”
“Who are you callin’ a chicken?!” Ena hisses indignantly before pausing, “Wait, Enanan? Where’d that one come from?”
Honestly, Mizuki isn’t even sure themself. The nickname just fell out of their mouth before they knew what they were even saying.
“It’s a nickname,” they say, “Do you not like it? I thought it suited you.”
“I like it just fine, idiot. It just caught me off guard. God, if you’re gonna make fun of me, don’t look so scared of me getting angry. I told you I’d let you know if you crossed a line, didn’t I?”
Mizuki nods, looking to change the subject. “You did. So, horseback riding?”
“Right. I’ll teach you how to mount one first.”
It doesn’t take long for Ena to get Silver saddled up. It does, however, take a while for Mizuki to figure out how exactly to mount the horse without scaring him off. Horses, as it turns out, are skittish creatures whose first instinct is to flee at any sign of danger. Mizuki can understand that and she’d be a hypocrite if she got upset at the horse for that. Still, it would be nice if she didn’t fall into the dirt every time Silver took a few steps forward.
“I wish he’d just stay still,” she says.
“He won’t,” Ena replies, “it's not a problem if you mount him correctly.”
On what must be her thirtieth try, Mizuki finally finds herself sitting squarely in the saddle. By some miracle, Silver hasn't moved an inch. She stares at little before realizing she has no clue what to do next. She turns to ask the person who does.
“How do I get him to move?”
“Use your legs and squeeze. Be gentle ”
Thankfully, this step is far easier than mounting the horse was and soon enough, she has Silver walking forward. A problem quickly approaches though, the horse is heading straight for the pen's fence and is showing no signs of stopping. She looks to Ena for help once again.
“He's trusting you to do it. Pull on the reins and he'll stop.”
She does as she's told, though she must have pulled too hard because Silver rears and she's sent tumbling into the dirt with a squeal.
“Wow, you are awful at this, aren't you?” Ena says with an outstretched hand and a fond smile on her face.
Mizuki grins and takes it. “Oh Enanan, how you wound me! I was thinking I wasas a natural.”
She snorts, pulling the other girl up. “Come on, you dork. Let’s go get lunch.”
They walk back to the house, hands intertwined once more. After they eat, Mrs. Shinonome hands Mizuki her promised treat basket as well as a carton of eggs, she’s about to refuse when the older woman speaks up.
“Consider it your share for helping out today, and compensation for the chickens.”
“I thought my payment was… nevermind I just can’t take it. They’re your eggs.”
“Exactly!” says Mrs. Shinonome, “They’re my eggs so I choose what I do with them, and I choose to give them to you.” She presses the carton into Mizuki’s hands.
“You really don’t have too,” she tries again, “We can just buy eggs.”
“Honey, do you know how much eggs cost nowadays? Consider this payment for your work. If you come and help out again, I’ll give you the same thing.”
She takes the carton without further complaint, figuring not having to buy eggs for a while wasn’t a particularly bad deal.
Afterward, Ena walked her to the fig tree again.
“Y’know, what mom said back there. It’s the same trick she used to use on Mafuyu.”
Mizuki blinked. “Is it?”
She nodded. “She used to refuse our gifts all the time, she thought she hadn’t been good enough to deserve them. Mom would tell her that it was our stuff and we chose what we’d do with it and that’d shut her right up.” She turned to her and smiled. “But I guess that doesn’t work on you.”
“Right. She really shouldn’t have though. Your mom is too hospitable.”
Ena scoffs, lightly smacking her arm. “Hey, don’t say things like that, okay. There’s no such thing as being ‘too hospitable’, especially not down here. And if mom thinks you deserve all of these goodies and treats, then she’s probably right.”
She’s wrong, Mizuki thinks, she’s oh so wrong. Mizuki didn’t deserve nice things such as treat baskets and free eggs. She didn’t deserve hospitality. Mizuki was a liar and a coward and a hypocrite and all around an awful deceitful person and people like her only deserved to burn.
She changes the subject. “I think I’ll still be sore tomorrow. That last fall really hurt!”
Ena laughs again. “Y’know, it really isn’t fair how you can still look so pretty even after falling onto your ass with all the grace of a drunkard on a Saturday night.”
Pretty. She turns the word in her head over and over again. Ena thinks I’m pretty. She refused to call the fuzzy feeling inside of her love, because liars like her don’t deserve such a thing.
Dear Mizuki,
Happy birthday! 16 years old, wow I feel like a grandma just thinking of it. I still remember when you were small and wore little cat onesies and could hardly take two steps without falling onto your butt. I wish I could be there in person, but school starts for me soon and I’ve got to be ready. Hopefully the gift I’ve attached will be enough. I saw it and it reminded me of you, I even sewed the ribbon it’s wearing myself. Oops I’ve said too much. Open it and see for yourself.
Anyway, how are things on your end? How’s granny? I know she’s getting up there in age and I’d send her a letter as well, but I’m running out of stamps! I know schools already started for you, so how is it so far? Is it the same as usual or was it different this time? Have you made any friends? If anyone’s giving you trouble, just let me know and I’ll fly down and handle it myself! I know I’m asking a lot of questions but I want to know how my baby sister is doing. Though, I guess you’re not exactly a baby anymore.
Miss you, Yuuki.
Mizuki clutched the birthday present in question (a pink weighted cat plush that smelled like lavender) as she tried to keep her tears off of the page. Typically on days like these, her sister’s letters were the only thing keeping her going. While they still helped, she found she wasn’t quite as reliant on them as she used to be, not since she met Ena, anyway.
Aspen was asleep at her feet and her parents were sleeping just down the hall, so she tried to keep as quiet as possible as she cried herself to sleep again, clutching the stuffed cat tighter.
Silly Yuuki, just write Granny a letter. Don’t waste your stamps on me.
The first few weeks of school came and went and before Mizuki knew it, her birthday had too. That wasn’t to say school wasn’t hell, it always was, she had just gotten used to it over the years.
Something she had not gotten used to, was seeing Ena everyday instead of every week or so. Sure they didn’t always speak, but Ena always made sure to wave at her and Mizuki would return the favor, pretending she wasn’t miserable.
Unfortunately for her, she shared no classes with An this year. Instead she had English with a boy named Toya, who she’d seen but had never spoken to. This came with the added bonus of her seeing Akito everyday as he’d always be waiting outside of the classroom for Toya to walk with him to their next class. He’d always give her an odd look, but he’d smile at her nonetheless.
Other than that, everything else was exactly the same, she still got the nasty comments, the stares, the whispers, and the notes in her locker, telling her all sorts of things or giving her bible verses in an attempt to ‘fix’ her.
This too, was nothing new: three boys had cornered her on the way to class. The halls were empty and the late bell had already rung, Mizuki had been stalling. Now though, they wish they hadn’t been. Perhaps the cover of the crowd would have protected them.
The boys sneer at them, saying all kinds of things that she’s heard countless times before. They’re looking for a reaction and when she doesn’t give them the satisfaction of one, they push her roughly. Violence always succeeds where words fail, she supposes. She lets out a shout as her ankle rolls on the way down. She stays on the ground until she’s sure they’re gone, hearing them laugh and high five each other down the hallway.
Once she was sure they were gone, she stood and limped her way to class, or at least she would have if she hadn’t spotted Ena.
She and Ena were friends now and Mizuki wanted them to be friends for as long as possible, so Ena could not see this part of them. Not now, not ever. She wouldn’t think this part of her was pretty or deserved hospitality and gift baskets wrapped in checkered bows. She’d be right to think that. Mizuki didn’t deserve those things, but they want her to think she did for just a bit longer. So she put more weight on her rolled ankle, trying not to wince as pain shot up it.
“Oh, Mizuki!” Ena called waving as she approached.
“Shouldn’t you be in class?” Mizuki teases, hoping Ena wouldn’t notice the way she leaned on the wall for relief. “Or are you skipping like a bad student?”
“I should be asking you that,” she shows her a bathroom pass. Had it been over fifteen minutes already?
“I’ll have you know I’m on my way to class as we speak, Enanan~”
“Is that so? Well then, I’ll have you know you’re twenty minutes late, Mizuki.”
Twenty minutes? She really had to hurry. “Really? Well then I guess I should hurry.”
She walks in the direction of her nice class as normally as she possibly can, ignoring the pain that shot up her injured ankle with each step.
“Hang on,” said Ena, “What happened?”
Shit. “What are you talking about Enaemon? Nothing happened.”
Ena looks her up and down, ignoring the new nickname. “You’ve been limping. What happened?”
Having been caught in the act, Mizuki saw no point in lying to her anymore. That being said, she wouldn’t tell her the full truth either.
“I tripped earlier. I think I rolled my ankle on the way down.”
“Then what are you walkin’ to class for dummy? Come on, I’ll take you to the nurse.”
Mizuki’s eyes went wide. “But don’t you have to go to the bathroom? I can make it myself, you don’t have to take me.”
Ena slings their arm over her shoulder. “I can hold it. And that wasn’t a request, I’m taking you to the nurse.”
Mizuki offered no further argument, knowing if they did, she wouldn’t listen. Instead they let her take them to the nurse, who they’d told the same story.
Mizuki’s grandmother (by heart and not by blood) was a frail old woman who lived in one of the nicer trailers in town. Its bottom had been reinforced with brick, with a cobblestone path leading up to the door and a decently sized flower garden in the front yard.
From what Mizuki could tell, her granny had lived here even before her mother was born. She’d never had children of her own as she was widowed in her youth and never remarried (when Mizuki had asked why, she said her late husband was the type of love you can only find once) but she took to Mizuki’s mother as though she were her own daughter, and so both she and Yuuki became her grandchildren in that same way.
Now, Yuuki was away for college, and her mother was always swamped with work, so Mizuki tried to visit her whenever she could. She figured her granny must be getting lonely, being all by herself all the time. She wouldn’t wish that on her worst enemy.
In the weeks since meeting Ena, she’d neglected to visit her grandmother. She hadn’t meant to of course, she’d just been too caught up in having someone to talk to outside of her family. She hadn’t had that since Rui, after all. That didn’t mean she didn’t feel guilty about neglecting her grandmother though. She added it to the ever growing list of crimes she’d remind herself of whenever she mistakenly thought she could ever deserve such a thing as love or kindness or companionship.
With the letter from Yuuki, combined with her ankle in a compression wrap and her heart heavy with things she couldn’t talk to Ena about, she figured now was as good a time as any to make up for lost time.
As usual, her granny’s door was unlocked, a habit from her youth that she had never kicked. Her granny sat on her bed with an old scrapbook in her lap and lit up at the sight of Mizuki. She motioned for them to sit next to her and so they did.
“I was just reminiscing on old times,” she said. “Cherishing the memories before I lose them for good.”
Her granny had always assumed she’d die of Alzheimer's like many other members of her family had.
Mizuki felt a lump form in their throat at the thought. “Don’t— please don’t say things like that. You’re not forgetting anything.”
“It doesn’t hurt to be prepared,” said the old woman, “Why do you think I keep asking for pictures of you two.”
“I thought it was because you liked scrapbooking.”
She laughs, though it sounds rougher than it did even ten years ago. “Well there’s that too, but it’s mostly because I don’t want to forget my beloved grandchildren.”
Grandchildren. This was another reason Mizuki didn’t want her to forget. They desperately wished she’d say granddaughters instead, but most of all, they want their grandmother to think of them and see them as they are now and not how they used to be. Not as a boy.
Her silver hair sparkles in the sunlight coming through the window as she flips backward through an old scrapbook from when Mizuki and Yuuki were kids. Her hands shake with every page and her eyes start to prick with tears.
“I remember this, I remember all of this. I remember the little boy who used to beg for McDonalds every weekend. I remember the little boy who made funny faces at cars passing by because they’d ‘done it first’. I remember the little boy who used to crouch in my flower garden looking for butterflies. I remember the little boy who’d smile as if the world were nothing but sunshine and flowers and cars with silly faces. That smile of his, I’d believe him every time, even if it was just for a moment. My little rose, why did you kill that little boy?”
Now Mizuki was the one who was fighting back tears. “None of that’s changed granny. I still like butterflies and fast food. The cars still make silly faces at me.”
“But you don’t smile like you used to. It doesn’t reach your eyes anymore. I look at these pictures and then I look at you and I almost don’t believe you’re the same person.” Her hands shake as she runs them through their ponytail, “Are you ever going to cut it sweetheart. It’s getting awfully long.”
“No.” Mizuki sobs, because she knows what her grandmother is really asking and it hurts. “I’m sorry granny. I’m so sorry. Your grandson’s gone. He’s gone because I killed him and I can’t bring him back. I won’t bring him back. I’m sorry.”
Her grandmother pulls her in for a hug, rubbing her hands up and down her back like she did when Mizuki was little.
“That’s okay. It doesn’t matter. I still love you. I still love you even though you don’t go to church anymore and your smile doesn’t reach your eyes. I still love you even though you killed that little boy and you can’t bring him back, even if everyone else here can’t see why, even if I don’t understand it, because you’ll always be my little rose.
“I’ll call you a girl if that’s what you want. You’ll be a girl in my eyes. I’d call you anything if it’d get you to smile like that again. I just want to see my grandson— no, my granddaughter smile again.”
Mizuki only cries harder. “Thank you. Thank you.”
Her grandmother smiles. “When I pass, I’ll make sure you get something nice from the old jewelry box, the one with the jewelry you’d always asked to try on when you were little. It’s been passed down for generations among the women in my family and I think both of my granddaughters deserve some fine jewelry."
There was that word again, deserve, but Mizuki is too busy crying to pay it any mind.
Lately, Ena seemed to have a habit of appearing at Mizuki’s worst moments, which would explain why she heard the bluebird call shortly after her visit to her grandmother. She faces her, trying her hardest to erase all evidence of her previous sob session.
“Is everything alright?” asks Ena, “It looks like you’ve been crying.”
Damn it. Either Ena was very perceptive or Mizuki was worse at hiding things than they thought.
“Everything’s fine! It’s probably just allergies, y’know with the seasons changing and all,” they hurry to change the subject, voice infected with false cheer worn like a shield. “Say, you wanna see my trailer?”
“Really?” Ena’s eyes lit up, “You mean right now?”
“Sure, I promised you didn’t I?”
She nods, and then Mizuki walks toward her house, Ena following close behind her. Mizuki wants to grab hold of her hand, like Ena did when they went to her farm a few weeks ago, but every time the urge struck, their list of sins echoed in their mind, swirling like the red and orange leaves that would fall off of the trees around them come October. Liar. Heathen. Coward.
She didn’t reach for Ena’s hand in the end.
Mizuki’s trailer was nothing fancy, in fact, the nicest looking thing about it on the outside was the old tire swing hanging from a particularly sturdy tree in the front yard. A thump sounds at the door and she assumes Aspen tried to burst through a small doggy door as soon as he caught scent of them, running face first into the screen door in his haste. Mizuki laughed at Ena’s mildly horrified expression, before walking up the old wooden stairs leading up to her front door and freeing her dog, who spun around them, barking excitedly.
“You live like this?” Ena asks, taking in the trailer's dull siding and the trim that was falling apart in places.
Mizuki winces at her reaction. “It looks much better on the inside,” she tried, opening the door and letting her in.
Aspen immediately darts between their legs, retrieving an old baseball and returning with it.
“We can’t play fetch in the house,” she reminds the dog, who decides take it to some far corner and chew on it instead.
“Where’d he get that baseball?” asks Ena, who they had momentarily forgotten was in their house.
“Found it one day. He’s had it ever since.”
What Mizuki didn’t tell her was that the baseball they had ‘found’ was actually thrown at them one lonely day in their final year of middle school. It had hit them squarely in the eye and Aspen, who had been a puppy at the time, had picked it up. None of the boys had wanted it after that. Whether it was out of fear of catching Mizuki’s ‘disease’ or because of the dog’s tight grip on it, they would never know.
Now as Ena explored Mizuki’s small trailer, they were starting to regret inviting her in on such impulse. Within these four walls lie countless testaments of pain, a side of them that they didn’t want Ena to know about. Ena couldn’t know about it, because then she’d leave like everyone else eventually did and Mizuki wanted her to stick around for a little longer. Sure, things like Aspen’s baseball could easily be explained away with a lie or two, but there were other things that they couldn’t brush off so easily. She couldn’t keep this up forever, no, what she needed was a distraction.
“Remember our suicide pact?” she asks.
“Not a suicide pact,” Ena grumbles.
“Fine, our anti-suicide pact then.”
“Better.”
“Well anyway, I was thinking,” they continue, “You said you wanted to seal it in blood, didn’t you?”
Ena perks up, “I did.”
“Well we could do that now. I mean I could grab a knife or something.”
She nods and Mizuki grabs a boxcutter from the junk drawer, as well as her family’s first aid kit. She then ushers Ena outside with a “We can’t bleed all over this nice carpet” that she hoped didn’t sound too panicked. She needed Ena out of her house as fast as possible, this was an awful idea.
“Your carpet is puke-colored and Aspen’s probably drooled all over it at some point,” said the brunette in question, though she allowed Mizuki to gently push her outside without any resistance.
They reaffirmed their promise with a slice to each palm and after they were all bandaged up, they sat and drank Sunny-D on the front steps until Ena had to go home. On some level, Mizuki understood that they had given Ena the short end of the stick. They let that guilt fester for a while after she had left and it wasn’t until Aspen grabbed the hem of her blouse in an effort to physically drag her inside that Mizuki moved from her spot on the top step.
She supposed it didn’t matter at this point, what was one more lie told, one more maggot of a sin to eat away at her rotting heart?
In the end, two things would always be true: No matter what, Mizuki would always be Mizuki, and Akiyama Mizuki was a rotten liar.