Archive of Our Own ^beta

Haruka’s pretty, An thinks as she watches her blue-haired friend hack away at a level she couldn’t clear in a video game, brows creased with concentration.

She almost laughs at the absurdity of her thought. Of course she’s pretty. She’s Haruka Kiritani, nationally famous idol, adored by all who know her—

But not in the way I do. Another whispering thought blooms in her mind, and An feels her cheeks warm for an unknown reason. A fuzzy feeling creeps into her heart, a little like the one she had towards Kohane some time ago, but nothing like it at the same time. 

Feelings are confusing, An decides, and opts to turn her gaze to the game instead. 

Of course she’s pretty. It’s nothing new to Haruka—An has seen her streams. The comments were filled with similar compliments. Surely, An is no different.

And yet, if that’s the case, why does her heart squeeze uncomfortably at the thought?

She doesn’t even know why she’s so worked up over this anyways. The room suddenly feels stuffy.

“I-I’m gonna turn on the fan,” An stumbled to her feet, uncharacteristically clumsy. She fumbled with the fan buttons.

“What’s wrong?” Not even looking up from the game, Haruka asked casually. The question hits An like a punch to the gut, and she startles.

“Wh-what do you mean?” she cursed internally at the stutter.

Haruka finally sets down her phone, shooting a look towards An. An twists the fan around so the wind is directly blasting into her face.

“C’mon, I know you,” Haruka smiles. “And for the record, you’re terrible at lying.” Haruka knowing her so well that she could tell something was off without even looking made her feel…out of sorts. She vaguely wonders what that means.

Despite the fan’s best efforts, An still feels like she is burning alive. She ducks her head, suddenly embarrassed. “Ah…I…don’t know.”

She suddenly feels like a child again, running away because her dad broke a promise. Or like just a mere few months ago, pathetically begging Kohane to keep looking at her.

She hears shuffling, but doesn’t register what it is before a soft hand rests itself around her cheek, gently coaxing her to lift her head.

And there Haruka was, in all her glory, smiling at her so patiently, the ceiling light shining behind her like a halo. An stops breathing.

“…I beat the level,” and of course Haruka ruins the moment, because that’s her Haruka, so caring and kind, fiercely competitive, a little awkward, but still ending up saying all the right things.

And that gives An an inexplicable sense of comfort. It’s her who gets to witness this side of Haruka. Haruka Kiritani, who just happens to be a nationally famous idol, is her childhood friend, her rival, her best friend.

Her Haruka. Hers.

She doesn’t know why yet, but she likes the sound of that.

An splutters, then giggles, then bursts into a laugh until she’s collapsing into Haruka, toppling them both onto the floor. Haruka joins her, and An can’t help the thought as she watches her mirthful face.

She’s pretty.

And this time, she allows herself to indulge in the simplicity of it.