Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Mizuki walked up the dirt path, pup at her heels. She set a brisk pace and the white mutt had to trot in order to keep up with her. The country town was quiet at this time of day, as it usually was and so, Mizuki’s walk was only interrupted by the occasional SUV or pickup truck.

As the warm late summer air tickled her skin, she found she had no particular destination in mind. She just wanted to get away from the eyes, the stares, and the comments. If she were alone, she’d probably walk for a short eternity, but the dog at her heels was panting heavily and she supposed she was far enough.

She spotted a fig tree up ahead, its green leaves stretching out over the grass as if offering a warm embrace. She figured it would do and sat against its trunk. Her ever-loyal shadow climbed into her lap. His tail wagged as Mizuki’s hand ran through the white scruffy fur between his ears before coming to rest against the pink paisley printed fabric of his bandana. Her pink eyes stared into the horizon as she lost herself in thought and for a moment, the dog's pants and the sounds of grass rustling in the summer breeze were the only sounds around her.

That moment ended when the branches above her shook violently and figs rained down on Mizuki, startling them out of their thoughts. Her dog stood alert, barking up at the branches as if chastising them for ruining the serenity of the scene.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” a voice rang out from above her.

Mizuki looked up and met eyes with the most beautiful girl she had ever seen. Short, chestnut hair framed a pretty face accented by dark mocha eyes that looked down at them apologetically. She had, Mizuki noted, wonderful fashion sense as well, from the pale yellow sweater to the black bellbottoms.

“Um— It’s alright. Sorry for taking your spot.”

“I don’t mind. You were quiet and I was just picking figs,” she held out her hand. “Do you want some?”

Mizuki hesitantly accepts her offering, the dog beside her ceasing his yapping, apparently realizing the stranger poses no threat.

“Thanks.”

The stranger nods, before climbing down the tree to stand beside them.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around here. I’m Ena. I live just that way.” She points to her left.

“I’m Mizuki,” they reply before pointing to the dog at their feet. “This is Aspen. We live—” they take a look around before pointing in the direction they came from, “a bit farther down in that direction.”

“Cool,” Ena says, “Well it’s nice to meet you.”

Mizuki nods. “Likewise.”

They both take a bite of their figs. Mizuki’s eyes fixate on the golden cross resting above her new companion’s heart.

Ena’s eyes are trained on the dog, who sticks to their side like a shadow. “What breed is he?”

They shrug, “Not sure. Dad says he’s a mutt but we don’t know what he’s mixed with.”

“He looks a bit like a terrier. Does your family hunt?”

“Ah, no. Aspen’s… a guard dog of sorts, but I just consider him a companion.”

Ena nods and says nothing more. They finish their figs in silence before she grabs a basket full of them.

“If you want,” Ena says hesitantly, “you could come home with me. Mom says she’s gonna try and put these figs in a pie.”

“Okay,” Mizuki says, still a little bit in awe that this girl was actually being nice to her.

They assumed it was because she hadn’t heard of them. The town freak who paraded around, pretending to be a girl. The confused and misguided young man who had nobody to correct him with his parents constantly working. Typically people steered clear of them, unless it was to try and ‘fix’ them somehow. They didn’t apologize for dropping figs on her head, much less invite them into their homes. The only reason Ena was different had to be because she didn’t know what she was yet. That kindness of hers would dissipate when she found out.

“Hello? Earth to Mizuki! You in there?”

They blink. “Oh, sorry.”

Ena sighs, “Come on, let’s go.”

She turns and walks in the direction she’d pointed in earlier.

Mizuki figured it couldn’t hurt to hold on to this fleeting connection while it lasted. If Ena didn’t know, she saw no harm in keeping it from her forever.

(That’s a lie. She did see the harm and she knew the guilt of keeping such an important part of herself from her forever would eat at her from the inside out, like maggots in a carcass.)

She turns and follows after Ena, Aspen at her heels.

“Absolutly not.”

As it turns out, Ena’s father, Mr. Shinonome, was not quite as fond of the idea of Mizuki entering his house. He also wasn’t a fan of Mizuki themself, seeing as he stood over them glaring at them in disgust.

“I will not have the likes of trailer trash sniffing around my daughter.”

Though, apparently that disgust was for a different reason than they’d assumed. Trailer trash. She turns the term over in her head, familiar with it, but surprised he found her financial situation more abhorrent than her gender identity. (And she knew he was aware of the latter, otherwise he wouldn’t have mentioned her ‘sniffing around’)

Ena makes a sound of indignation. “What does that have to do with anything?! And Mizuki isn’t sniffing around! She’s my friend!”

“What’s taking so long, Shinei? You’re letting all of the cold air out.”

Ena’s mother is comparatively shorter than her father, but still slightly taller than Mizuki herself. She seems gentler than her husband with hair the color of maple leaves framing kind green eyes.

“He won’t let her in for tea!” Ena yells.

“Ena, don’t raise your voice sweetheart. It’s not ladylike.”

Ena scowls at that.

Her father is quick to defend himself. “I refuse! I won’t let this kid go sniffing around my daughter.”

“I promise I don’t mean any trouble.” Mizuki speaks up, “We met by the fig tree and she invited me for dessert.”

Now under the scrutiny of both parents, Mizuki wishes the ground under the (nice cedar) porch she stood on would swallow her whole.

“I doubt she’s doing any sniffing around honey. Surely she knows better,” Ena’s mother says before turning to address them directly, “Sweetheart, you’re welcome to come in for tea.”

Shinei narrows his eyes before conceding, realizing he’s outnumbered. “Fine. For tea and nothing more ya hear? And the mutt stays outside.” Ena opens her mouth to protest but he cuts her off, “I won’t budge on that one, Ena. You know how your brother is with dogs.”

Ena sighs, “Okay, thanks dad.”

He nods and both parents disappear deeper into the house. Shinei shoots Mizuki an ‘I’m watching you’ gesture before he leaves.

“Sorry about that,” says Ena, “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re trailer trash.”

“It’s fine,” She sets Aspen in a down-stay, “It happens. It hardly bothers me.”

“It shouldn’t. It shouldn’t happen.”

Mizuki shrugs and follows Ena into her parlor.

The house is nice. It’s big and fancy and through the windows painted with golden trim, Mizuki can see the farm they tend to.

When they reach the olive green table set out for tea, the rest of Ena’s family is already waiting for them.

“Oh good,” says her mother, “I was worried Shinei had scared you off.”

A boy with ginger hair like his mother addresses Ena. “Wow, you haven’t brought a friend over since—”

Ena’s glare cuts him off. She turns to Mizuki. “Mizuki, this is Akito, my little brother and the reason poor little Aspen has to sit out in the heat all by his lonesome.”

She waves at him nervously, “It’s okay, really, he’ll be just fine.”

Ena’s mother gasps, “Right! I should get that poor little pup some water.”

“There’s a dog on our porch?!” Akito exclaims, glaring at his sister.

“It’s not her fault!” Mizuki cuts in, wanting to be rid of the hostile tension in the air. They shift from foot to foot. “He’s my dog. He doesn’t bite or cause trouble.”

Akito still doesn’t look happy, but his glare softens a bit. “Y’know, you’re a lot less annoying than you seem at school.”

“Akito,” his mother scolds from the kitchen where she’s filling a plastic bowl with tap water. “Don’t be rude.”

Mizuki’s tempted to tease him, but there are two adults in the room and one already doesn’t like her so she opts to just keep quiet and not cause trouble.

“What are you waiting for?” Ena asks, pulling out two adjacent chairs, “C’mon sit.”

They nod and take the seat she’s pulled out for them. Ena’s mother comes back and pours the tea.

“It’s peach,” she says, “And Mrs. Mochizuki baked us an apple pie earlier this morning.”

Akito snorts, “Surprised Honami didn’t eat it first.”

“Akito, comments like that are unbecoming of a gentleman such as yourself,” scolds their mother.

Ena snickers, though apparently it’s only loud enough for Mizuki to hear as there is no reaction from anyone else at the table. They decide not to rat her out and pretend they didn’t hear anything at all.

“I’d like to see it by the way,” Ena eventually says through bites of pie. “Your trailer, I mean.”

Mr. Shinonome drops his fork at her words. It clatters harshly against the china plate and Mizuki winces.

“If you really want to, I don't mind,” they say awkwardly, desperate to change the subject. “But it's really nothing special. Your farm is much more impressive.”

“I see that farm every day,” says Ena, “But I'll promise to show you around if you promise to show me your trailer.”

She can feel Mr. Shinonome's eyes boring a hole into her skull and the sensation paralyzes her for a moment. He sighs.

“If you're gonna look you'll have to help out, understand kiddo?”

She nods. “Okay, deal.”

Ena isn't quite as accepting of these conditions. “What?! But she's a guest! You can't just put her to work like that!”

Mr. Shinonome stands up, slamming his hands on the table with a force that makes the silverware (and Mizuki) jump. “Why must you always fight me every step of the way?! Isn’t it enough that I’m letting the kid come back at all?!”

“No!” Ena shouts back, “It’s always something with you! Why can’t you just let me be?! I’m sick of having to find workarounds for all your dumb rules!”

Mrs. Shinonome stands and Akito follows. He walks further into the house while his mother gently pulls a dumbfounded Mizuki to her feet and escorts her in the same direction. She leads her to what seems like a sitting room with sage green walls and a trim made up of the same dark cedar as the hardwood floor. She sits Mizuki down on a plush couch before sitting down across from her with a sigh.

“I’m sorry you had to see that hun.”

“Honestly,” huffs Akito, “I get that they have their differences and all, but do they really have to do this now? We have company over.”

“It’s okay,” says Mizuki, “I don’t really mind much. It was probably my fault anyway. So, I’m sorry for that.”

Akito scowls, “Geez, no wonder she likes you. Look, we can tell it bothered you. I mean, you froze up as soon as they started yelling. You don’t hafta pretend.”

“That’s nothing, I just don’t really like conflict is all.”

Mrs. Shinonome chimes in. “It isn’t your fault, dear. Ena takes after her father, and a lot of the time they clash because they’re too alike. Now I’ll go get some snacks and see if they plan on finishing their little spat anytime soon.”

Akito looks surprised at her words and she walks out without another word.

“Mom’s angry and we get to eat in the sitting room,” he says, “That means it’s really bad.”

“Does this—” Mizuki almost doesn’t want to know, “Does this happen often?”

“At least once a week.”

She sinks a little in her seat.

“Why? Are you reconsidering coming back? Ena will kill you if she doesn’t get to see that trailer.”

“No, I still want to come back. I just… don’t really understand.”

“Don’t question it. Ena’ll argue with anyone.”

She nods and says nothing more, wishing she hadn’t opened her mouth at all earlier. For a moment she wonders if all of the Shinonome’s nice home decor and tea times and insistence on good manners was just a ruse to hide the simmering anger that threatened to tear the house apart like a powerful stick of dynamite with a short fuse. If the house comes down around them it’ll be her fault. She’s the one who lit the fuse earlier.

“I said don’t think too much about it,” Akito repeats, “This is just how family is.”

“My family is never like this,” she mutters.

“That’s ‘cause they’re never around.” Akito sounds like he’s getting defensive. “Honestly, I think they’re a myth sometimes. And you don’t have any siblings, so you wouldn’t understand that either.”

Mizuki wants to correct him, but they can sense he’s one comment away from snapping at them and they’ve already ruined things enough, so they lower their gaze and keep quiet.

He softens slightly, but his gaze and tone still have a venomous barb to them. “Just… stay out of our business, okay. I mean it.”

They nod.

The door opens and Ena steps in, “Are you done yelling at her yet, or does mom have to come and tear into you too?”

“Oh, you’re finished.” Akito said, “That was fast. What happened?”

“Mom tore us a new one and then dad switched targets. I was going to bunker down here with you two,” she glances at Mizuki. “But now I get the feeling you’d rather go home.”

“Oh. It’s okay, really. We never finished tea, and your mom never did put the figs in a pie.”

“Trust me, there won’t be any more tea by the time they’re done in there.” Akito’s point is authenticated by the distant sound of something shattering. “See?”

Mizuki gapes in horror. That was such a nice tea set too!

“Don’t worry about it,” says Ena, “We’ll go downtown and buy a new one. Now, do you wanna go home or what?”

“Trust me, you’ll wanna go home,” says Akito, “Just take her home, Ena.”

She looks up at Ena. “Well, my parents’ll want me home by sunset. So I guess I could go now.”

“Alright. I’ll walk you to the fig tree, but you’ll have to make it home from there by yourself. Come on, let’s grab Aspen and go.”

She follows Ena and they leave the Shinonome home through a door they did not enter.

“Listen, I’m really sorry about that,” says Ena, “I mean, you had to listen to me and dad argue and then Akito tore into you and then mom and dad started arguing. Must’ve been a pretty lousy experience.”

She shrugs, “It’s fine, really.”

“It’s not! Why do you always—” she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Look, I know it upset you. Mom said you froze back there when we started, and then to have Akito yell at you too. Honestly, I’m almost tempted to go and give him a piece of my mind, but we’ve argued enough for one day. I mean it isn’t your fault you don’t get it. You aren’t— nevermind. The point is, he shouldn’t have yelled at you for being an only child and not getting it.”

“He was wrong.” Mizuki manages in a whisper. “I— I’m not an only child.”

“Really?”

She nods, “I have an older sister. She moved away for college a few years ago.”

Ena smiles softly. “Well I’m sorry for assuming. And I’m sorry he assumed too.”

Their voice was hardly a breath, “We never fought. Not like that.”

Ena hums. “Well… maybe your family’s just different. Maybe it’s because your parents work all the time.”

Mizuki doesn’t believe that at all, but they don’t press. “Maybe.”

“You don’t have to come back,” Ena says, “I’d understand if you wanted to stay away from us after that.”

Now it’s their turn to hum. “I’ll come back. We had a deal, and I really do wanna see the farm.”

“Even if my family argues like that again?”

Mizuki nods.

Ena lets out a breathy laugh. “Really? Even though you don’t get it? Even though Akito yelled at you for not getting it? Even though it makes you uncomfortable?”

“I promised you didn’t I? Besides, I liked the tea, even though there was yelling, and your mom was pretty nice.”

“You don’t have to keep coming back just because you promised and the tea’s good.”

“But I liked hanging out with you.”

Ena sighs. “You really are strange, y'know. The only people who’ve stayed before are people who understood.”

“I don’t have to understand it to hang out with you, do I?”

“Of course not, Mizuki. If you want to come back you’re welcome to. I think mom likes you anyway.”

Aspen pokes at her ankle and Mizuki looks up toward the setting sun. “Right, that’s my cue to go. I’ll see you around.”

Ena nods. “I’ll see you.”

Mizuki is walking through a grove, searching for the sprawling oak tree she knows is at its center. She’s seeking alone time today and this tree is one of the only places she’s guaranteed to get it. It’s been that way since Rui shot himself back in middle school.

Solitude is not what she gets as at the base of the tree sits Ena, scribbling furiously at a notebook while angrily muttering to herself.

“What does he mean, ‘I don't think you can handle another one'? I know better than him what I can handle. You aren't like her. You aren't Mafuyu. You're like a skittish cat and you don't speak your mind but you aren't her. You can't be like her because if you are then—”

She steps into the clearing, “Ena?”

The brunette startles and the book she was scribbling in snaps shut. “Mizuki?! What are you doing here?!”

They point up to the oaks branches. “I come here a lot. I was going to climb it and sit for a while.”

“Oh, well then I'm sorry. I guess I'm intruding on your spot now. I'll find someplace else.”

“I don't mind.” Ena's face sours at those words for some reason. “Really, I don’t. You can stay.”

They climb the oak, coming to rest on their usual branch. Ena watches from the ground.

“You mind if I join you? I don't wanna go home just yet and you look pretty comfy up there.”

Mizuki leans over and pats the branch Rui always sat on twice in invitation.

Ena stares up at them for a moment before sighing. “Could you help me up?”

They blinked owlishly at her, having never met anyone who couldn't climb a tree like this one (except Aspen, she supposed, but he didn't really count as he was a dog). “Right. Sure, hang on.”

It takes a minute but soon Ena is sitting on the branch Rui used to sit on. Mizuki stares for a moment trying not to think too hard about her old friend lest she start crying. She says the first non Rui related thing that comes to mind.

“If you can't climb trees then how'd you get up the fig tree the other day?”

“I had Akito help me. I can't climb, but I can get down a tree just fine.”

“That's because that's the easy part. It's nothing worth writing home about.”

Ena’s face scrunches up in indignation and Mizuki worries she's crossed a line. Then she starts laughing.

“Y'know Mizuki, I think I like you better when you're like this!”

“Really? You like it when I poke fun at you?”

“Sure I do! It means you're speaking your mind!”

“But I hardly mean half of what I'm saying! And what if I cross a line?”

“If you cross a line I'll let you know. This is better than when you were all quiet and scared during tea time.”

“I wasn't scared! All the arguing and smashing fine china just caught me off guard."

“Still, when you're all quiet and polite like that, you remind me of—”

“Of Mafuyu, right?” They glance up at her. “Is that a bad thing?”

Ena’s eyes narrow. “Say, how much of that did you hear?”

“Not much. It sounded like you were talking to someone, only nobody was there.”

She sighs. “Mafuyu was my friend.”

“Oh. I'm sorry.”

Mizuki remembered the day Mafuyu Asahina was found hanging from an apple tree last year. She remembered wanting to pay respects, though she didn't know her that well, and being turned away at the door. She remembered the look in Mrs. Asahina's eye as if she blamed the world itself for her daughter's suicide. She remembered thinking she understood how that felt.

“Don't. It's not your fault. If anyone's to blame it's that so-called mother of hers.”

“She seemed so grief-stricken when I last saw her. I think she loved Mafuyu very much.”

“She didn't” Ena's words were as cold as ice. “She didn't love Mafuyu at all. She just loved the sweet southern belle she pretended to be.”

“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s fine. It’s not your fault. It’s just… just thinking about it makes me mad. She didn’t even allow me to attend the funeral.”

She nods. “She didn’t let me pay respects either.”

“You went to pay respects?”

“Yeah. I only met her once or twice, but I figured I could offer her mom something since I get how that feels.”

Ena looks at her expectantly prompting her to continue so she does. “Y’know… this spot was Rui’s before it was mine. He used to live in a camper. He taught me how to climb and he used to sit in that same spot you’re sitting in now. We used to be inseparable back in middle school, but then he went and shot himself the summer after he graduated.”

“I remember hearing about that. There was a speech about it when high school started. I didn’t realize you two were friends.”

Mizuki nods again. “I’m still mad at him. For leaving me behind even though he promised he wouldn’t. He didn’t even leave a note. It’s like he doesn’t want me to grieve him.”

“I get that. Mafuyu left a lengthy note behind, but it was all one big apology. I was so angry then and whenever I see her farce of a mother or my parents mention it, it’s like that anger bubbles up until I have to let it out somehow.”

“Is that what you were doing earlier? With the notebook, I mean?”

Ena nods, “Whenever my family sees you, they see Mafuyu. It’s like they think you’re the same as her and it makes me angry. I think that’s why Akito was so frustrated when you didn’t understand, because Mafuyu understood, and you aren’t her.” 

“Oh. I thought I’d overstepped.” She shifts a little on the branch.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. It pisses me off when you apologize like you did. It reminds me of her.”

“Right. I’m sorry.”

“I said stop apologizing!”

“Do you—” Mizuki hesitates, but Ena looks as though she’ll reach across and strangle them if they don’t say what’s on their mind. “Does it bother you? That I’m like Mafuyu. Does it make you angry?” Does it make you hate me?

“You aren’t like Mafuyu. There are some similarities, but they don’t really bother me. They worry me more than anything. I worry one day you’ll end up on the business end of a rope like she did. What makes me angry is when my family acts like you’re the same when you aren’t. Honestly, they act like she died yesterday instead of a year ago and sometimes I wish they’d just move on.”

They can’t hide the sigh of relief they let out. “Okay.”

“My turn. Do I remind you of Rui?”

They think about this for a moment. “No. You’re nothing like he was.”

“Do you ever wish people would forget about him? Like I do with Mafuyu?”

“Not really. If anything I wish people would remember him. And I wish they’d do it properly. Remember him for who he was and not who they thought he was.”

“I get that. Whenever people talk about Mafuyu, they’re always talking about this perfect, sweet southern belle and that just isn’t her.”

They sit in silence for a moment before Ena speaks again.

“Hey Mizuki, we’re friends aren’t we?”

“Sure. As long as you want to be.”

“Then I want you to make me another promise. Promise me you won’t leave me behind like that and I’ll promise you the same.”

She extends her pinky out to them. They intertwine it with their own.

“You swear you’ll keep it?” They ask, their voice coming out smaller than they intended.

“As long as you keep yours. I’d seal this in blood, but I don’t have anything sharp, so this’ll have to do.”

“I might have something if that’s what you wanted to do.”

They dig into their pockets, finding nothing. “Nevermind, we can always do that later.”

Ena nods.

Realizing the weight of what they’ve just sworn, Mizuki laughs. “This is our second meeting and we’re already making a suicide pact.”

“It isn’t a suicide pact! We’re promising not to do that!”

Mizuki laughs again and then they’re both silent once more. The light breeze rustles the leaves and lighter branches above them. Once again, Ena breaks the silence.

“It’s a sketchbook, by the way.”

“Huh?”

“You called it a notebook earlier. That’s wrong. It’s a sketchbook.”

Mizuki tilts their head, “You draw?”

“Yeah. Dad doesn’t want me to, so don’t go telling him when I show you our farm.”

“My lips are sealed,” they say, “Can I see your art?”

“It’s not very good."

“It’s probably better than anything I could do.”

"We’d have to climb down since I left it down there.”

"That’s fine."

Ena sighs. “You’re persistent.”

She climbs down to retrieve her sketchbook and Mizuki follows behind her. They both settle down against the tree’s sturdy trunk as Ena flips through the first few pages of her sketchbook. Mizuki admires in quiet awe but doesn’t miss the way Ena will skip over certain pages she seems to deem too poor quality or too embarrassing. She doesn’t comment on it.

“You draw a lot of birds,” she observes instead.

“Yeah. Since dad doesn’t want me to draw, I only do it outside. There are a lot of birds around, so I draw them a lot. It’s pretty peaceful when the only sounds are the birds chirping and my pencil moving across the page. I’d bet I could mimic any bird call by now.”

Mizuki would like to test this theory. “Really, so you can do a sparrow.”

She does. Perfectly.

“A mourning dove?”

Another perfect mimicry.

“A cardinal?”

She can do that one too. They go on like this for a while, with Mizuki listing off species and Ena mimicking their calls.

“A blue jay?”

“A goldfinch?”

“A chickadee?”

“A bunting?”

Ena scoffs after that last one. “Are you done yet or are you planning on going through every species of bird in the area?”

She laughs, “Okay last one. Do a bluebird.”

She does and Mizuki finds she likes the sound of that one. She likes it so much that she asks Ena to do it again and again until she refuses. They both go home smiling by sunset.

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.

Chapter Text

Mizuki is surprised to hear the bluebird’s call late at night from outside her bedroom window.

Now, Mizuki was a lot of things (a liar, a coward) but she was no fool (she most certainly was). She knew that bluebirds were diurnal creatures who slept at night like most humans did. She also knew there was only one person who could possibly want to come anywhere near her house in order to call out to her specifically, only one person who gathered her attention with the wonderful chirp of the bluebird. What she didn’t know was how the girl in question had found her bedroom window as she clearly recalls her aim to keep her away from her bedroom at all costs. Though, in hindsight, the laced pastel pink curtains were probably a dead giveaway. More pressing was the question of why Ena was sitting outside of her window on a Tuesday night at an hour where she should be sleeping (not that Mizuki herself was doing much of that, mind you) and that curiosity is ultimately what gets Mizuki to rise from her pink fluffy cocoon and cross the short distance to see the other girl.

(If the fluttering butterflies that tended to arrive in her stomach whenever Ena was on her mind or in her vicinity had anything to do with it, that was between her and the lavender scented cat that stared at her with knowing eyes)

Mizuki opens her window and then looks between the brunette and her digital alarm clock surrounded in miniature plush keychains in what is almost disbelief.

“It’s…” she checks her clock again just to make sure she isn’t going crazy. “1:00 AM.”

Ena sighs, “Tonight was a drinking night.” she elaborates when it becomes clear Mizuki doesn’t know what that means. “Some nights dad just drinks until he can’t taste the liquor anymore and so I had to wait a while for him to go to sleep.”

“Okay?” Mizuki doesn’t quite understand how that answers her non-question that she didn’t ask and she wonders if that’s because she’s up later than she should be.

Ena sighs. “I got in trouble at school today and now mom and dad are mad at me.”

Mizuki’s eyes widen as her friend continues, “Normally mom would just be disappointed in me while dad would fly off the handle, but I guess it’s different this time. I punched a kid. He deserved it, but my parents don’t seem to think so.” Her fists clench at her sides as she bares her teeth. “My dad says I’m grounded until he can find some way to curb my rebellion, my mom agrees with him because ‘young ladies don’t fight’ I was just so sick of it and so I sat in my room for a while and seethed.” She looks up, meeting Mizuki’s startled gaze. “Then I realized that I wanted to see you, so I waited until everyone went to sleep and now here I am. So are you going to let me in or not?”

Mizuki’s mouth opens and closes dumbly for a moment. There’s so much they want to ask and also it’s far too late to do much thinking so they once again blurt out what comes to mind.

“Why?”

“Why what?” asks Ena, “Why did I want to see you? Because I care about you dummy. Now let me in.”

She reaches up and makes a grabby motion with her hands like a petulant toddler, only they’re much too close for it to have the desired effect and they swear her hand brushes their shoulder on the way down, making their already fuzzy mind short circuit completely.

“Oh. Alright,” she says, moving aside so Ena can climb through her bedroom window.

Hold on a second, wasn’t this exactly what she had wanted to avoid? Why had she let Ena in so easily? Why did the idea of Ena looking into the safe haven she’d so carefully crafted for herself seem less terrifying now than it had two days ago. Was it because she needed sleep? Maybe she just wasn’t thinking clearly enough.

Unaware of Mizuki’s inner turmoil, Ena looked around Mizuki’s very pink and fluffy room, making sure she didn’t disturb anything. There was something akin to wonder in her eyes, as though she had stepped into a new world.

“It’s very pink,” she says.

Mizuki looks up at her nervously. “Is that a bad thing?”

Ena tilts her head in consideration before answering. “Not really— I mean, it’s certainly more pink than I’d personally like, but it suits you. I don’t hate it.”

They hope she doesn’t notice the sigh of relief that escapes them.

Ena looks over to the alarm clock. “Wow, it is late. Sorry for keeping you up, you were probably trying to sleep and we have school tomorrow.”

“It’s fine, I wasn’t really sleeping, and I don’t really care about school. You’re much more important to me.”

Mizuki blinked at the sudden honesty that came out of their lips without their permission. Maybe they really should sleep.

“Still, it’s late and I’d imagine your parents would like to avoid truancy charges, so you really should sleep.”

She resists the urge to tell Ena that her parents would not receive truancy charges over one absence and she had in fact skipped more than that before, instead asking, “But what about you? I’d be a bad host if I slept while you were here and I don’t want to send you home when you just got here.”

“I can just sleep here, as long as that’s okay with you.”

“But my parents don’t know you’re here and you said yours didn’t either— wait, didn’t you just say you weren’t supposed to be here?”

Ena grimaces, “Alright fine, how about we lay down and I’ll be sure to leave after you fall asleep.”

“Won’t you be tired tomorrow morning? You have to go to school too.”

“Do you have a better idea?!”

Mizuki shook her head and the two of them dove under the blankets and covers of her bed.

Ena’s plan had quite a few flaws, the most pressing of them being the size of Mizuki’s twin bed, which was only meant to house one person. This meant that Mizuki and Ena had to cuddle up very closely in order to fit onto it. Despite the tight squeeze it was quite comfortable and with a fuzzy pink blanket and Ena’s warmth surrounding her, Mizuki fell asleep faster than she could ever recall doing beforehand, thinking that she would like to keep this warmth with her forever.

When she woke, there was a cold empty spot where Ena was last night and a note written on a bear shaped sticky note waiting for her.

Hey, I felt bad disappearing without a trace even though that’s what I told you I’d do, so I wrote this note. You know, you’re awfully cute when you’re sleeping. It makes me wonder if you just look that pretty all the time. That’s kind of unfair.

— Ena

There was that fluttery feeling again. Ena thought she was pretty. Ena said she cared about her with such confidence. She'd said it like it was the answer to everything. She said it like it was a definite fact of the universe and that just couldn't be the case. It couldn't be true because it contradicted almost every truth Mizuki had learned through painful experience. It just couldn't be true, not unless Ena knew something she didn't.

Below her, Aspen, who had decided to sleep under her desk for the night, snorted in his sleep.

She chuckled, addressing the sleeping dog, “Some guard dog you are.”

“How about a sleepover this weekend,” Ena asks after school on the Friday before Labor Day weekend.

“Aren’t you still grounded?”

Her face sours at that. “Not anymore. Dad thinks he’s found a way to ‘fix’ me.”

Ena doesn’t seem like she’s in the mood to elaborate, so Mizuki doesn’t press, instead writing it off as one of the odd Shinonome family dysfunctions that she will never quite understand.

“I don’t think your dad would like the idea of a sleepover between the two of us very much.”

“Are you still scared of him?”

“Shouldn’t I be? I mean it’s hunting season isn’t it? He could get me while we sleep and hang me up like that deer head in your living room,” she jokes, “Who knows, maybe he’s got traps set already.”

“Idiot,” Ena hits her on the head lightly, “Dad isn’t going to hunt you down, that’d be murder, and didn’t I already tell you I wouldn’t let him lay a finger on you?”

“You did! You did!” Mizuki laughs, “That hurt Enanan! I think you’ve given me a concussion!”

“There’s no way! I didn’t hit you that hard did I?!”

She only continues laughing. “I’m joking, Ena! That dainty little tap of yours didn’t even hurt!”

“Don’t laugh at me! I was worried! You know what, maybe a concussion’ll do you some good. Maybe it’ll knock that stupidity of yours out of you!”

Mizuki only laughs harder.

“Anyway,” continues Ena, “I was thinking you could come over on Saturday night, that way, you could come to church with us on Sunday morning. Then you could stay the night and we could spend Labor day together.”

Now, Mizuki was not the biggest fan of churches. To her, a church was a place where she was especially unwelcome, so she tended to steer clear. Despite this, seeing the way Ena’s eyes lit up at the chance to show them more of her world, a world where people like them were entirely unwelcome, made them want to try. They quickly realized they would do a lot of things for Ena.

“That sounds like fun, but are you sure your dad won’t mind?”

She scoffs. “Who cares what he thinks, this is just the two of us spending time together and there’s nothing wrong with that.” She trails off, thinking a moment, “Though… on some weekends, he drinks a lot and alcohol makes him more insufferable than usual. Oh, and church can be kinda stuffy sometimes, they’re all really traditional. Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

Not really. “It’ll be fine, I’ve got you to protect me.” She shoots Ena her best smile.

“That’s right,” Ena’s fingers slowly find their way to Mizuki’s, “And I’ll do a damn good job of it too.”

The determination behind that sentence catches her off guard. She cannot remember a time when anyone had said such a thing with such certainty. She blinks through her shock and pushes out a laugh.

“You sure will!”

Ena nods, then, “Say, Mizuki?”

They hum.

“You may not be like Mafuyu, but someone’s hurt you before, haven’t they?”

You have no idea. They try to make their next words come out as evenly as possible. Ena is brushing dangerous territory here. “Sure, I’ve been hurt, but hasn’t everyone? I mean, I can tell you have. Rui and Mafuyu too. Isn’t that just a part of life?”

“I suppose so. So tell me, are they still hurting you?”

Another forced laugh. “You worry too much Enanan~ It’s all in the past now, water under the bridge. I’m doing just fine now, so don’t worry. Don’t we have a sleepover to plan?”

A series of lies followed closely by a deflection, Mizuki’s tried and true. Still, a part of them wonders why Ena wanted to know so badly. Could it be that she truly cared about them? No, that was just impossible, and even if it was true, it would all be temporary in the end. Best to dodge her well-meaning questions now so they can’t be made into fine tuned weapons later.

“I’m just doing my job as a friend, but you’re right, we are planning a sleepover. So, what time are you coming over tomorrow evening?”

Mizuki arrives at the Shinonome homestead at 8pm sharp and Akito is the one who answers the door.

His eyes narrow. “You again.”

She grins. “Me again. No need to be so sour, Lil' Bro.”

“Lil’ Bro?! But aren't I older than—” he scoffs, deciding not to question it too much and turns to call into the house. “Ena your girlfriend's here.”

Ena appears at the door. “She's not my girlfriend, and you aren’t half as funny as you think you are.”

Her glare melts as her eyes meet Mizuki's and Akito smirks knowingly as she pulls them inside.

“You're just in time, mom's making dinner. I can show you my room so you can put your stuff down.”

Mizuki nods, allowing Ena to drag her through the house, Mrs. Shinonome notices them as they pass the kitchen.

“Not so fast girls,” she says, “You two can't just run off without saying anything. Mizuki, I haven't seen you in forever!”

“You saw me last month,” she replies awkwardly.

“Exactly!” I haven't seen you in a whole month!”

“Mom, weren't you making dinner? You'll see Mizuki all weekend.”

“I am, and you two are going to help me. You can't keep her all to yourself, Ena.”

She turns to tend to the pot again and Ena sighs. “Mom's really excited to see you again. I guess it has been a while. We see each other at school every day and I was just at your house a few days ago, so I didn't really realize.”

“I hadn't either. I guess I'd just gotten so used to seeing you every day, it hadn't crossed my mind.”

“She missed you.”

Mizuki nods, “she did. So, once I put my stuff down, we'll help her make dinner.”

“She doesn't really need it. She uses that trick whenever she really wants to talk.”

Mr. Shinonome glances up as they pass him. His gaze passes over them and then the spot where their hands meet. His expression shows triumph instead of the anger she expected, as if they've fallen into his trap. It sends a shiver up Mizuki's spine.

“Hey kiddo, how's that wonder-pup of yours?” He asks cordially.

“He's doing just fine.”

“Come to think of it, will he really be okay all by himself? I mean, your folks are hardly home and you'll be here all weekend. How will he eat or go potty?”

“He'll be fine,” she asserts, “he can get outside through the doggy door and I'm not exactly being held captive here. I can still feed him when I need to.”

He gives her a sad smile, but Mizuki sees the faint hostility flickering underneath. “You know, I feel bad for you sometimes, kid. To grow up without parental guidance, it just isn't right. Even now, you can't enjoy this here sleepover to the fullest because your parents can't take care of that dog of yours.” He meets Ena’s eyes, “Kids like you end up getting into all sorts of trouble, not having anyone to tell you right from wrong.”

She understands the underlying message he's trying to convey. Stay away from my daughter. People like you mean trouble and I don't want her tangled up in it.

Ena bristles like an angry cat and pulls Mizuki away without another word. They reach what she assumes to be Ena’s room and she slams the door behind them.

“Seriously, what is his problem?!” She huffs.

They shrug, “he just doesn't like me very much. Still, he's never been quite that hostile.”

“Are you alright? He said some pretty nasty things back there.”

“I'm fine. It's nothing I haven't heard before.” And he could have said so much worse.

“It isn’t right,” Ena hisses, “for him— for anyone to say such awful things about you, it just isn’t right!”

“Calm down,” she says, “I'm used to it. It doesn't bother me.”

Her fire turns on them. “How can you be so calm about this?! Don't you know? Don't you understand how awful the things they say are?” She's shouting now. “How can you just roll over and take it?! Why don't you just fight?!”

Mizuki feels her breathing quicken. “E-Ena, please… just drop it.”

“Answer me!” She demands. “It's everywhere! It's all awful, and if I'm hearing it this often, if it hurts me this much, then I can't imagine how much it hurts you! So then why do you act like it doesn't bother you?!”

She laughs nervously, trying to keep her breathing under control. “You— you're angrier about this than I am.”

“That’s the problem!” Ena cries, “Why aren’t you angry?! Why aren’t you upset?! How can you just look away and pretend this doesn’t happen to you?! It does!”

“I know!” Mizuki’s raised her voice now, “I know, and I’m used to it now. It’s fine.”

That last word comes out in a sob and she frantically rubs at her eyes to keep the tears at bay. The sight seems to give Ena pause as she stops her angry tirade.

“Yesterday, when you said they weren’t hurting you anymore,” she says, sounding grimly serious, “you were lying, weren’t you?”

No longer trusting their voice, Mizuki simply nods. They do not look up, they do not see Ena’s face scrunch up in hurt and guilt, they do not break down. They only listen as the door clicks shut with a sound of finality and then…

Silence.

Mizuki sinks to the ground, only now allowing herself to cry quietly.

Liar. Coward.

She had lied in order to keep Ena with her, and now because of that, Ena was with her no longer.

Mizuki does not end up helping with dinner as Mrs. Shinonome hadn’t come to fetch her (she does vaguely remember the sound of the door opening, then gently closing again) until the meal was already finished. When she’d arrived at the table, both Shinonome parents were already there. Mr. Shinonome glanced up at her from his newspaper, taking in her masked dejection. He looked back down.

“Just… don’t forget about Grace, kiddo.”

“You worry too much,” says Mrs. Shinonome, “Of course she’ll remember to say Grace.”

Mizuki nods and says no more. She takes the same seat she did during tea, hoping that when Ena got here, she’d do the same.

(Of course she wouldn’t, Mizuki had hurt her, driven her away. Of course she wouldn’t want to be around them anymore.)

The Shinonome siblings are the last to arrive to the table and they arrive together. Akito glances from Mizuki to Ena then takes the seat he took at tea time, leaving only the seat between them for Ena, who takes it without complaint.

Another pointed look from Akito gets Ena to speak. She whispers in Mizuki’s ear, “Hey, after dinner… can we talk?”

She nods, though the idea sends shivers up her spine. “Okay.”

The meal itself is delicious and had Mizuki not been so anxious about the chat they and Ena were about to have, they would have made a comment about how excited they were to be able to enjoy Mrs. Shinonome's cooking all weekend.

Mrs. Shinonome made conversation with each of them as dinner went on, which was fine. If nothing else, Mizuki was good at pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t. While Ena glanced a few times in their direction, she never made conversation with them.

The second dinner was over, Ena grabbed them by the hand and pulled them to her room, shutting the door behind her. She pulled out an old notebook and sat on the bed, patting the spot beside her.

“Come sit.”

Mizuki nodded and obeyed without a word.

Ena sighed. “You don’t have to keep quiet, you know. You can say something.”

“I don’t— I’m not sure what to say.”

“Then I’ll start,” she says, “I’m sorry I upset you. I’m sorry I made you cry.”

They want to deny crying, but think better of it. “It’s— I forgive you. I’m sorry too. For lying to you.”

“It’s alright, I probably shouldn’t have pushed so hard. You asked me to drop it and I just kept pushing and I shouldn’t have. My point still stands though. If you close your eyes and pretend it doesn’t happen… if you just let it happen, then it’ll kill you someday. And I don’t want that to happen to you.”

“It won’t kill me. I can handle it. I promised you I wouldn’t die.”

“I know. I know you promised, but it still worries me.”

“How come?”

“Didn’t I tell you before? I care about you,” she grabs onto Mizuki’s hands once more. “I care about you more than I care about anyone else. That’s why I want you to be more honest with me. You don’t have to tell me everything, but I want you to tell me when something’s wrong.”

“I don’t know if I can,” they admit, “I don’t know if I can tell you.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m scared. I’m scared things will change if I tell you, and this is all I’ve ever done. I think I’ve forgotten how to do anything else. I don’t think I could be anything else.”

“I’m scared too,” says Ena, “Mafuyu, she used to pretend like you do and now I’m scared it’ll turn out the same. I’m scared that I wasn’t enough to help her and I won’t be enough to help you. I’m scared too, so let’s be scared together. You don’t have to say anything now, we can take it slow, but I want to help and I can’t do that if you don’t say anything.”

She nods, then musters up the courage to say her next words. “Do you remember that time when you took me to the nurse. I’d rolled my ankle and I told you I’d tripped.”

Ena nods. “I do. You tried to walk to class like an idiot.”

“I lied to you then. I didn’t trip, I was pushed,” she meets Ena’s eyes, “I lied to you and I’ve been lying to you this entire time. Doesn’t that upset you?”

“It does, but you’re telling the truth now, aren’t you?”

She nods.

“Then that’s all I need for now. You can keep your secrets, but I hope you’ll tell me someday.”

“What if I don’t? What if it’s something I’m never able to tell you?”

“Then that’s okay too. Like I said, you don’t have to tell me everything.”

“So then you aren’t angry at me?”

“Not exactly,” she replies, “I was upset that you’ve been lying to me, but I think I was angrier at myself, for pushing you like that, for making you cry, for not being someone you could trust, for not being able to do anything.”

“It isn’t your fault.” Mizuki says.

Ena smiles, then she opens the notebook. “I wanted to show you this. These are the only drawings dad let me keep.”

She flips through the pages and Mizuki marvels at Ena’s art. It wasn’t quite as sophisticated as the bird drawings she was shown at the oak tree though. This feels more like taking emotions and tossing them at the page. She finds she quite likes it.

“They aren’t quite as good as those bird drawings I showed you a while ago,” Ena says bashfully.

“I really like them. More than the birds, I think,” she backpedals realizing how bad that could sound, “Uh— not that I didn’t like the birds, of course but, these just feel so… raw? Honest? It’s like you’re throwing your feelings onto paper.”

Ena laughs. “You don’t have to pretend, I know my art is awful.”

“It’s not. I wish I could do what you do.”

She looks at them quizzically and Mizuki takes this as a sign to elaborate.

“I mean I sew and sometimes I edit, but that’s not really creating anything. I’m just altering what’s already there. You… you’re actually making something new and I think that’s amazing.”

The artist visibly softens and says, “I appreciate the compliment, but you really shouldn’t sell yourself short like that. I, for one, think I’d like to see what you make sometime.”

“Then I’ll show you someday— if you really do wanna see it, that is.”

That’s enough to get Ena smiling again and Mizuki turns her attention to the poetry written in pristine handwriting occupying every left page of the book.

“Wow,” she says as she reads over one of them, “First your art and now this, is there anything you can’t do?”

That comes off far softer and honest than she wanted it to, so she quickly covers it up. “Enanan must be some kind of superhero~”

A furious blush rises to Ena’s cheeks, informing Mizuki that she has succeeded. “I’m no superhero, dummy! I didn’t even write these!”

“Ah, I should have known! Ena’s handwriting couldn’t possibly be this neat. After all, Ena’s handwriting is probably illegible, vicious chicken scratch!”

“I’ll have you know that my handwriting is perfectly legible! And vicious?! Where’d that idea even come from?”

“Yeah, vicious. Y’know, like a chicken!”

“Are you still on that? That happened three weeks ago!”

“You’re right, I suppose that is ancient history by now. After all, the burning question is simple: If you didn’t write these poems, then who did?”

This kind of banter with Ena was nice. No deep honesty threatening to tear anything apart, no deep conversations (not that they particularly disliked those, they just tended to go hand in hand with the aforementioned honesty), just her and Ena engaging in simple, unserious conversation.

“Mafuyu did. That’s why dad let me keep this one.”

And now they were back to the aforementioned serious conversation. Mizuki looked back down at the perfectly pristine handwriting— Mafuyu’s perfectly pristine handwriting. Now that she examined it closely, it almost looked inhuman. As far as she knew, humans were imperfect and prone to making mistakes, but Mafuyu’s handwriting saw no eraser marks, no misspelled words and not a letter out of place. It was inhuman, as if a machine wrote it instead of a person, and as far as she knew, Mafuyu was no machine.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Her head snaps up at Ena’s words and she turns to make eye contact.

The girl in question giggles, “Sorry, did I startle you?”

“A little,” she admitted before looking back to Mafuyu’s handwriting, “It’s just… her handwriting’s too perfect. It’s all in pen and there aren’t any spelling mistakes. Every word and letter is spaced apart the same. It’s almost… uncanny.”

Ena laughs again. “I always thought the same thing. I’d tell her that myself and she’d always say that she didn’t notice or that maybe mine was too messy.”

“So your handwriting is messy!”

“It’s not! Anyway, this was just a little something we used to do for fun. She’d write the poetry and then I’d draw something to go with it. Even when I’d draw first, she’d insist on me keeping them on the right side of the page.”

Mizuki laughs, “She sounds like a fun person to be around.”

“She was, even though she was annoying a lot of the time, kinda like you.”

“Really?”

She hums, “Well, not exactly. I don’t think she meant it most of the time, but you,” she reaches over and tickles them, “I know you’re doing this on purpose.”

“W-well someone has to do it,” they manage between giggles, “If… if I don’t then—” they’re cut off by their own squeal as Ena doubles down.

“Then what, Mizuki?”

“Then— then you’ll— Alright, Alright I’m sorry! Mercy Ena, please.”

Ena seems thoroughly pleased with the effect her tickling is having and does not show mercy. She now sits on top of them, tickling any spot she can reach. She finds a particularly sensitive spot and Mizuki squeals with laughter. They know they have to escape somehow.

Desperately they reach for one of Ena’s many pillows, grabbing the edge of a pillowcase (was that satin?) and hurling it at the other girl’s face. Ena stops her relentless assault, blinking once, then twice. Mizuki takes this opportunity to catch their breath.

Ena smirks, “So then, it’s a pillow fight you want?”

They shake their head, “Maybe another time. It’s getting late isn’t it?”

Both of their heads turn in unison to the clock in her room which reads 11:25 PM.

“You’re right, we have church tomorrow morning and neither of us is in pajamas.”

Right, that was something they needed to do. “You first?” they suggest.

“Sure,” she agrees.

After they’re dressed they prepare to go to bed. Mizuki notices there is no sleeping bag or blow up mattress set up for them. There isn’t even a pull out couch in the living room.

“Where do I sleep,” they ask.

Ena looks at them as if they’d asked what two plus two was. “With me of course.”

Mizuki feels their face burn. “Oh. Well isn’t that— um, I mean… I could—”

“What’s up? It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before and besides, mine’s much bigger so we don’t have to cuddle— not that I’m opposed to cuddling of course, but in case you don't want to, though I suppose mom and dad may find it indecent.”

“You… you liked it?”

“Sure I did,” Ena says, climbing into bed. “Now I understand why couples like it so much. So are you coming or what?”

They nod and climb in next to her, shifting to be as close as they humanly can. Ena wraps her arms around them and all is right in the word again.

“I liked it too,” are the last words they manage to say before falling asleep.

Come morning, Mizuki learns the Shinonomes are early risers, or maybe that was just the magic of Sunday mornings. Either way, Ena was apparently an exception as she was still fast asleep with her arms wrapped around Mizuki and a hand tangled in her hair.

While she's been awake since she first smelled pancakes cooking, Mizuki knew trying to escape the other girl’s grip was both a futile endeavor and a waste of time. She'd learned that the hard way and each attempt to wriggle out of Ena's bear hug was met with the sleeping girl only holding tighter, as if she'd disappear completely if she were to let go. Mizuki was sure she'd suffocate if she were to try that again.

“Enanan's so clingy~” she teases, though she knows the girl in question can't hear her.

So her next course of action is to wake her, though she is admittedly adorable when she's asleep like this and squeezing her like she's a particularly cuddly teddy bear. It doesn't matter in the end as waking Ena is a more futile endeavor than escaping her. No matter how much she shakes her, the brunette sleeps like the dead.

As far as she can tell, the rest of the Shinonome family is already awake. She can hear them bustling around.

“Akito you can wear something a little nicer than that, can't you? It's a Sunday morning for Christ's sake!”

“This suit's plenty fancy, mom!”

“Not styled like that, it isn't! At least iron it. And put a tie on honey I am begging you.”

“Either of you seen my lucky tie?”

“In the wash sweetheart. Playing Bingo again?”

“Sure am! That Haramuchi thinks he's some hot shot because he's won two Sundays in a row. I'll make him eat his words today, I swear!”

“Well I wish you good luck. Akito, do you mind waking the girls? Breakfast is ready and they'll have to get dressed quickly if we're to make it on time.”

“Sure thing.”

Mizuki freezes. If Akito catches them like this they'll never hear the end of it. And she wouldn’t even be upset at him for it as she'd do the same if it were her.

She shakes Ena again. “Come on, Ena we really have to get up!”

Ena doesn’t stir. Akito knocks on the door.

“Come on, you two, get up already. The pancakes are gonna get cold.”

I'm trying, she wants to say, but waking Ena is now her top priority.

“Don't make me come in there, I really don't wanna see you two cuddling or whatever.”

She didn't want him to see that either. “You don't have to, I'm up!”

“Really? Since when?”

“Since your mom started breakfast, I think.”

“Then what are you still in here for? We've got church, remember?”

“I do remember! But uh— well there's…” she desperately shakes Ena, quickly running out of ways to escape this situation. She even tries wriggling her way out again, with just as much success as she had the first time around. She squeaks as Ena squeezes her tighter, then she goes completely still.

“You alright in there,” asks Akito who evidently heard the commotion.

“Sure am! I'll be out in a minute… just—” she fails again to escape Ena's grasp. “Um—”

Akito sighs, “forget it, I'm coming in. I've gotta wake Ena anyway.”

“How do you know she's still asleep?”

“It's not even half past eight, of course she's asleep! Besides, if she was awake, then she'd have told me to go away by now.”

He opens the door, taking in the sight of the two of them cuddling.

“Aw gross! Is this what's been keeping you?!”

“It's not… exactly what you think it is,” she tries.

“Well then what else could it be?! At this rate you’ll be my sister-in-law before we know it!”

“We're not getting married!” She hisses, blushing furiously, “and don't say it so loud! What if your parents hear?!”

“Mom will gladly walk her down the aisle.”

Desperate to wipe that stupid satisfied smirk off his face, she takes a shot in the dark.

“Well, if we're getting married, you and Toya must already have five kids.”

Akito sputters, proving her hunch correct. “Don't ‘cha have a dog to feed or something.”

She once again tries escaping Ena's grasp, predictably failing.

Akito laughs. “Oh this is rich! You two are never living this down!”

“Don't you have pancakes to eat or something,” she mutters.

“My pancake time relies on you two being able to make it to dinner, and that's only gonna happen if Sleeping Beasty here wakes up.”

“I've been trying to wake her for ages, nothing's working.”

“Move aside and let the master handle things.”

Mizuki would like to point out that she cannot simply ‘move aside’ but is cut off by Akito shaking the bed so violently that for a moment she thinks a sudden earthquake has struck. She yelps as he increases the intensity after this fails to rouse Ena.

Just how strong is he?

He finally stops his endeavor to shake them to death and takes a step back in confusion.

“Huh. That usually works.” He looks up. “Alright, new plan.”

He walks around to the other side of the bed before scooping Mizuki up, easily detangling her from Ena’s grasp and holding her in a bridal carry. Mizuki, for her part, is too stunned to do much of anything other than gape at the spot on the bed they used to occupy. Surprisingly, this wakes Ena instantly and she is not pleased with her new situation (re: with no Mizuki to cuddle with). She quickly sits up, glaring at her brother.

“What are you doing?! Put her down! And get out of my room while you’re at it!”

“She lives,” says Mizuki who is honestly surprised this is what woke her.

“No can do,” teases Akito, “You wouldn’t wake up so now you get no pancakes and no girlfriend.”

Ena’s face grows three shades darker, “She’s not my—”

“What’s all the noise about,” asks Mrs. Shinonome who appears in the doorway. “Oh, you two are awake. Hurry up and eat breakfast so you can get dressed. And Akito, put her down, you’re wearing your Sunday best!”

She leaves and the room is silent for a few seconds before Akito unceremoniously drops them and saunters away saying the pancakes were calling him.

Mrs. Shinonome's pancakes are the best Mizuki has ever had and she now understands why Akito had been in such a hurry. They're perfectly fluffy and sweet and she knows they were made from scratch. They taste absolutely nothing like the store bought boxed pancakes she was used to. They also seem to have the ability to soothe any sour temper as Ena shows no evidence of holding Akito’s earlier stunt against him and Mr. Shinonome wears a look of pure bliss upon his face which Mizuki had never seen before. It looks almost uncanny on the typically grumpy man.

After everyone had eaten their full and Mizuki had gone home to feed Aspen, she and Ena had begun getting dressed. In all honesty, Mizuki hadn’t been to church in years and she tried not to think about it too much. She hopes the dress she chose, which was consequently her favorite one in her closet, was fancy enough. She nervously twirls in front of Ena’s bedroom mirror, an activity that typically calmed her. As of now, it only stirred the pot of nerves deep in her gut.

“You look nice,” says Ena as she walks through the door, fully dressed.

“You think so?” They ask before taking in Ena's dress and nearly disintegrating on the spot.

She looks like she's come straight off the runway, or maybe even a movie set. The shade of yellow she's wearing looks amazing on her and her black hat, though old fashioned, adds just the right amount of contrast. Of course, the adorable little bee pin ties the whole thing together.

Ena smiles at their reaction, “I guess you think I look nice too. I personally think the hat makes me look like an old lady but if you like it so much, then maybe I'll keep it.”

It takes them a moment to find their voice again. “It looks amazing. The little bee pin totally completes the look, y'know.”

“I think you’re flattering me,” Ena says, averting her eyes with blush dusting her cheeks. “Anyway, do you mind if I do your hair?”

They smile at her embarrassment, but decide to offer her mercy, after all, was that not the point of Sunday mornings? “I don’t mind. Go ahead.”

They sit on her stool with the olive-colored plush cushion to allow for easier access and watch as she picks out a brush. Ena is gentle yet meticulous as she brushes Mizuki’s hair, not allowing a single potential tangle to go unchecked. Despite teasing her for her conscientiousness, which she found a bit extreme at times (“Ena, you’ve gone over that spot twenty times now,” she laughs at some point, “Any tangle that would have even thought to form there is long gone by now!”) she does find it quite soothing. The brushes continuous stroking motion makes her feel a bit like a spoiled cat who knows nothing of predators or potential danger. It’s almost enough to kill the anxiety she feels over going to church.

When Ena is finished, Mizuki’s cascading curls flow freely down her back only being kept in place by a braid that sits upon her head like a crown and is held up with a fancy looking bluebell pin. It’s a nice change from her usual ribbon-tied side ponytail. She’s never felt so regal before.

“How does it look,” Ena asks with insecurity tinting her voice.

Mizuki stares awed at her reflection, hardly recognizing the girl staring back at her. If she hadn’t known any better, she would have assumed she was looking at Yuuki or perhaps even a younger version of her mother (neither of them had ever let their hair grow quite this long though) but the reflection is also so uniquely her that she nearly cries.

“It’s perfect,” she says, nearly breathless, “Thank you.”

Ena smiles, “I’m glad.” She motions to the iridescent bluebell pin in her hair and then her own sparkling bumblebee. “We match.”

“We do,” she agrees, smiling widely.

She practically prances into the Shinonome living room feeling a rare confidence in herself. All it takes is one comment from Shinei Shinonome to nearly ruin it.

“Isn’t that dress a little juvenile?”

Juvenile? Well she certainly hadn’t thought so. Sure it was baby pink in color, and she was wearing a white petticoat underneath, but that was just cuteness. Sure, it had just enough frills to cover her silhouette in places she didn’t want people to look at two closely, but that was just comfort, a disguise, even. It wasn’t much more frilly than what she usually wore. That didn’t make it juvenile, did it?

“Don’t listen to him,” says Mrs. Shinonome, who walks up to her in order to get a closer look, “It’s wonderful. All you need is some jewelry and maybe some makeup. Say, are your ears pierced?”

“No,” she says as Mrs. Shinonome drags her away.

“That’s no problem, honey. I’m sure I have some clip-ons.”

Chapter Text

Going to church again feels exactly how Mizuki thought it would. Sure she walked off of the Shinonome property feeling the best she had in quite a while, but that didn’t matter in the end as sitting through a church service was guaranteed to make her feel exposed and vulnerable no matter how regal she felt even a few hours prior. To say she felt like she’d stepped in the middle of a lion’s den was an understatement. The stares were a constant reminder of how different she was from everyone around her, how unwelcome she was in this little community of theirs. The pastor looked dead at her every time he mentioned sins, repentance, or hell in his sermon. The air itself felt suffocating here and if it weren’t for the risk of drawing attention to herself, she would have made her escape ages ago.

It only got worse after the service ended. Conversations buzzed around her like incessant wasps. Though she tried to stick close to the Shinonomes in hopes of some kind of shelter it seemed as though every conversation was about her in some way.

“It’s so nice of you to take him to church.”

“Is he here to repent?”

“It’s nice to see Ena making friends, but as parents it’s your job to protect her from bad influences.”

She looks around for Ena, but she’s long dissipated into the crowd. She tries to focus on the minor gossip of older church ladies, or at the very least the rare conversations that aren’t about her presence. Church is an effective way to get the latest bits of news. The Mochizuki’s are moving away next week, someone up the street is getting married, and someone else just had a baby. That’s all she’s able to get, conversations have an odd way of dying off whenever she gets too close.

At some point she finds Mr. Shinonome talking to a few other men. One of them bears a striking resemblance to Toya, minus the fact that his hair’s gray, which is odd, because Mizuki has not seen the split-haired boy anywhere. She decides to hover around them while instead of directly approaching and from here, she’s within perfect earshot of their conversation.

“It’s an honorable thing you’re doing there, Shinei,” says the Toya lookalike, “That boy needs some church in his life.”

Mizuki wants to scoff. Honestly, would it kill these people to talk about anything else?

“Understatement of the century," says the other man, “I mean have you seen the pink dress he’s wearing? At this point I doubt even God can save him.”

“He’s just a bit confused, Frank.” The gray-haired man says, “It’s only natural, growing up with only his sister around.”

“Confused? Haramuchi, he’s downright delusional! That boy’s been playing dolls and dress-up with his sister since he could walk and now he’s lost all hold on reality. I mean, for crying out loud he thinks he’s a girl! How much more ridiculous can you get?”

She bristles at the insinuation that this is somehow Yuuki’s fault.

“Leave Yuuki out of it,” says Mr. Shinonome, voicing her exact thoughts in a tired voice.

“Really though, Shinei,” says the man known as Frank, “What you’re doing here really is charitable. You’re being the male influence that boy needs. I mean, just last month, I saw you putting him to work on that farm of yours. Have you had him drive the tractor yet? A pickup truck?”

“I don’t think the kid can drive yet, Frank.”

“‘Course he can’t,” scoffs Frank, “Nobody to teach him. Just another thing you’ll have to do. Don’t worry though, I’m sure you’ll make a man of him yet!”

“It is commendable,” says Haramuchi, “But for the love of God, did you have to let him walk outta the house in a dress?!”

“Baby steps Haramuchi, though he does have a point. Doesn’t Akito have a spare suit he could’ve worn?”

“The kid’s a pipsqueak," says Mr. Shinonome, “Akito’s clothes wouldn’t have fit in a million years. Besides, if the kid wants to wear something frilly, then what business do I have to interfere?”

“It would be the right thing to do,” insists Haramuchi, “would’ve set a better example. As things are, he might put ideas in your kids' heads.”

“What exactly are you insinuating?” asks Mr. Shinonome.

“If you’re really so insistent on this charity project, you’ll have to weed out that behavior of his as soon as possible. If you don’t, your other kids are sure to pick it up. Honestly if I were you I’d stop whatever it is you think you’re doing. It’s not your job to raise other people’s kids, and kids like him are beyond salvation.”

“Now you listen here,” hisses Mr. Shinonome, “Don’t you ever suggest that my kids can’t think for themselves, you hear. I don’t want to hear you critiquing any potential choice me or my family makes when you can’t even get your youngest to show up anymore. And one last thing, Mizuki’s a guest, not a charity case. I’m not raising anybody’s kid for them, understand? That kid chose to be here. I didn’t force or influence anything.”

Haramuchi averts his gaze at the mention of his son’s disaffiliation and his eyes meet hers. She jumps at his sharp gaze.

“Well speak of the devil and he shall appear,” he says, prompting the other two men to turn to face her as well.

Mr. Shinonome looks almost embarrassed, “You didn’t happen to hear any of that, did you?”

She nods, seeing no point in lying at this point. The air feels thicker than before.

The abrasive one— Frank, claps his hand on her shoulder like they’re old friends. “Hey there, bud. You lost? Hasn’t anyone taught you to stay out of grown folk’s business?”

“Uh—”

“Don’t mind him,” says Haramuchi, who Mizuki deduces to be Toya’s father, “How about you join us for Bingo? I can show you how a real man bets.”

“Would you two quit it?” Mr. Shinonome snaps, pulling her away from them, “Mizuki’s not old enough to gamble anyhow.” He turns his attention to them, “If you’re looking for Ena she’s probably with the Mochizuki’s. They’re moving to the city next week.” He steers them away from the group and they take the message to scram as a mercy.

Away. They need to get away. They need air.

They walk in the direction they were pointed in without complaint, steering through the crowd of wolves disguised as God’s sheep. There is no sign of Ena, but there is a bench in the corner that seems secluded enough. They decide it’ll do and sit down without so much of a second thought in order to catch their breath. They hardly register that the bench is already occupied until they look up and meet the cold, dead eyes of the late Mafuyu Asahina’s mother.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” they say, “I didn’t realize— I can leave if that’s what you want.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mean you any harm.”

They’re silent for a long while before Mafuyu’s mother speaks again.

“Haven’t seen you in a while. I was starting to wonder if maybe you’d hung yourself too. I was starting to grieve and everything. Ridiculous isn’t it, grieving someone like you? But since Mafuyu, the thought of any child doing that just makes me misty eyed. After all, despite,” she gestures vaguely at Mizuki, “all of this, you’re still someone’s Mafuyu.”

They nod, “I’m sorry about your daughter. Nobody deserves to go through that, especially not a mother.”

A near hysterical laugh tears its way through the older woman’s throat. “A mother?! Is that what you think I am?! No, sweetheart, I’m no mother. Not anymore. Never was one. A failure, that’s what I am.”

“I don’t think so. I think you tried,” they say, “I think you cared, doesn’t that count for something.”

“And what do you know?! What do you know of success?! I tell you I’m a failure of a mother and here you are trying to comfort me with a participation award!”

“I’m sorry,” they let out a self-depricating chuckle. “If it helps, I’m a failure too. A failure as a friend, I mean.”

“And now you’re comforting me with common knowledge,” she says, “Of course you’re a failure. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be sitting here on this bench.”

“You’re also on this bench!” they can’t help but snap before remembering they’re trying to comfort her and changing course, “I’m sure everyone’s sat here at some point. We can’t all be failures.”

“Shows what you know. Look at this bench and look at it closely. Don’t you see how decrepit it looks compared to every other seat here? Do you see how old it looks? Wanna know why? I'll tell you why! Nobody has ever sat in this seat, never, do you hear me? Not an ass has graced the surface of this bench since before I was born. Not one since it was built. Not a single ass has graced this bench until mine came along.”

Now Mizuki hasn’t been in years but they're pretty sure you aren’t meant to curse in church. However, Mrs. Asahina barrels on with her rant before they can point that out, not that it’d be wise anyhow.

“Do you know? Do you understand what happens when a mother loses her child? She gets sympathy right? All these people come up to her with condolences and offerings and reassurances that just make you feel sick inside don’t they? Well it isn’t the same when that kid kills herself. When you kid dies to a suicide, all of a sudden you’re just not trustworthy anymore. After all, it’s a mother’s job to make a kid feel all safe and protected and loved and if that kid goes out with a rope one day and hangs herself like some sort of Christmas ornament, then that mother failed!

“All of a sudden, nobody wants to talk to you anymore, because who’d wanna talk to someone who failed her daughter. They don’t want you to talk to their kids anymore because who knows, maybe I’ll fail them too! Suddenly they’re all saying things behind your back like ‘poor thing’ and ‘I wonder if there was anything suspicious going on behind closed doors’ and so I started sitting here on this stupid old bench, because it’s quiet back here. I started to think that maybe this was a bench for failures because the only person sitting here was me, but then again I just don’t see where I went wrong!

“Mafuyu was loved, she was protected. I did everything right so I don’t understand why— I mean sure, I could be a little hard on her sometimes, but if you don’t give your kids some tough love every so often then they’ll turn out like you. I only ever had her best interest at heart, so why did she—”

She looks like she’s going to start crying again, and Mizuki panics a bit at the thought. Wasn’t this what they’d planned to do since the day they learned Mafuyu was dead? Why was this so hard now? Luckily, Mrs. Asahina seems to pull herself together.

“And so since I was the only one here, I couldn’t prove for certain that this was the failure bench. That’s what they said anyway, but I knew all along it was true, and here you come, the poster child of failure, to prove me right.”

That was certainly a lot to unpack. Mizuki gets the feeling trying to comfort this woman is a job she isn’t qualified for and she understands that it’s one that isn’t required of her, but anything’s better than facing the judgement of the crowd, so she’ll do her best.

“What you said earlier, about nobody wanting to talk to you, it’s not true. I’m here. I want to talk to you.”

She laughs. “No you don’t. You don’t want to talk to me. You’re only doing it because we’re in the same boat, stranded on the same stormy seas. You don’t have a choice.”

“Well we could always hop out and drown,” she chuckles humorlessly under her breath. If Mrs Asahina heard that she doesn't give any indication of it.

“The fact of the matter is that we're on this here bench because we're both failures. I'm a failure of a mother and you're a failure of a boy. You're a failure of a lot of things apparently, but you're a failure of that most of all.”

She says the words with a sense of finality and Mizuki gets the idea that this conversation is over. They both sit in silence for a moment and she acknowledges the sting of the older woman’s words. Oh well, at least she said them to her face. At least she's willing to talk to her, even if it's only because they’re both stuck at the bottom of the barrel. Maybe that's why she feels an odd sense of comradery with this woman who's done nothing but insult her, such a strong desire to comfort her, because at the end of the day they were both on the failure bench together weren't they? Maybe they were even two sides of the same coin.

That's why when Mrs. Asahina stands and says, “be a gentleman and walk me to my car, will you?” Mizuki agrees without complaint even though the idea of being a ‘gentleman’ makes her sick to her stomach.

She takes the older woman's hand and together they brave the sea of judgment. Mizuki wants to cheer as her shoes meet the grass outside. Mrs. Asahina leads her to a sedan the color of old parchment and Mizuki bows dramatically as she opens the door for her. If she's going to play the role of ‘gentleman’ she should give it her all. That's what Rui taught her anyway.

Mrs. Asahina sighs. “Are you incapable of being normal for five seconds? Honestly if Shinei knows what's good for his kids he'll stop whatever it is he thinks he's doing with you.” She leans in and whispers, “but between you and me I hope he doesn't. I hope you ruin that precious daughter of his so he can know the pain I felt. It's his— no, that whole family's fault my Mafuyu is dead and I want them all to pay for it.”

With that she closes her car door and drives away, leaving Mizuki to stare blankly after her.

After who knows how long, someone tugs at her skirt. Startled, she turns around only to be met with a young boy with dusty brown hair and ice blue eyes.

“Excuse me ma'am,” he says, “I found a cool lookin’ snail, wanna see?”

She nods and the boy slowly opens his other hand to reveal what is in fact, a neat looking snail. Its pale figure contrasted nicely with the plethora of browns swirling around its shell. She wonders if Ena has ever drawn a snail. Maybe she’d like to draw this one.

“You're right, that is a cool snail,: she tells the young boy.

He grins and then as if she's passed some sort of test, several children swarm her, each with something neat to show her. She's overwhelmed with flowers and insects and oddly shaped rocks and sticks and surrounded by faces of childlike wonder. She looks over each of their treasures, approving every single one and for the first time since entering the building, she feels welcome, like a human being instead of a heathen to fix or a circus animal to gawk at.

That didn't last long, it never did. The parents were quick to scoop their children away when they learned they were playing with the town freak. Mizuki stares after the adult who was carrying the last kid— the one with the snail— away with a, “come on, Haru we really oughta find your parents. Her eyes follow as the woman carries him to the church step before setting him down in front of a girl around her age with the same colored hair as the snail boy— Haru. Beside her stands Ena and while Mizuki would love to greet her she has a feeling getting any closer would be a bad idea. The woman says a few words to the girl she doesn't recognize and then walks back into the building. The girl looks over to her and she averts her gaze immediately.

“There you are!” Says Ena, “I've been looking for you.”

The other girl also walks over with Haru in tow. The young boy grins as they approach.

“You have?”

“Sure I have!” She replies, “I didn't mean to lose you in the crowd, I was worried.”

“Hi again miss,” says Haru, “this is my big sister, Honami.”

Honami nods politely. “Sorry about Ms. Johnson. You know how people are.”

“They just can't mind their own business can they?” Grumbles Ena.

“Oh that? It's all good,” says Mizuki “No harm done.”

Ena gives her a look that tells them she didn't buy it but mercifully doesn't press.

Honami smiles, “I'm glad! Haru really seems to like you!”

Haru nods, “Mhm, we're friends now!”

His sister's smile grows solemn. He pays this no mind and rushes off, probably too find something else to show her. Honami follows after him.

“Mom wanted to ask you what you wanted for dinner,” says Ena.

“I don't really have a preference.”

“Then I hope you like seafood because that's what Akito wants.”

“That's fine with me.”

“Good,” Ena sits on the bottom step and motions for them to follow.

“Are you sure you're okay,” she asks once they've sat.

“All good! The crowd was just a bit bigger than I expected.”

“I'm really sorry. I didn’t mean for us to get separated like that.”

“Don't worry about it! There's a bench in there that nobody really uses. It's a good way to avoid the crowd.”

“If you say so.”

They both stay silent until Haru comes bounding up to her, Honami on his heels.

“Haru, mom and dad are already waiting for us!”

He ignores her, smiling up at Mizuki and presenting a marigold to her.

“For you,” he says, “‘cause we're friends now.”

He beams as they take it and thank him. They smile as they watch him be dragged away shouting “bye-bye” over his shoulder. Once he's gone they hold the yellow flower up to the sunlight and marvel at it smiling softly.

“He's a sweet kid, isn't he?” Ena asks. “It's too bad he's moving away next week. Honami too. I'll miss them.”

The look in her eyes is both forlorn and numb as though she's used to friends leaving her behind. Mizuki scoots closer wanting to offer what little comfort she can.

Ena looks at them and smiles scooting closer until they're practically on top of each other. “You really seem to like flowers. Maybe I'll get you some for Valentine's Day or something.”

Mizuki turns bright red, “wouldn't people get the wrong idea? Besides, Valentine's Day is about a half a year away!”

“Well I missed your birthday and when else am I supposed to get my best friend flowers? It doesn’t matter how far away Valentines Day is either, I mean it's not like either of us are going anywhere.”

They blink. “I'm your best friend?”

“Sure you are! Who else would it be?”

They look away, that pesky blush never quite leaving their cheeks. “You don't have to wait for any special occasion to give me flowers.”

She smiles, “Well maybe I want it to be special.”

“Oh my,” a voice says behind them, “that's a beautiful marigold.”

They spring apart and look up to meet the gaze of Mrs. Shinonome.

“Mom!” Ena protests, “Don't scare us like that!”

She ignores her, “how about we press it when we get back? That way it won't wilt.”

Mizuki nods.

“I'm sure Ena’s jealous,” snickers Akito who's just exited the building.

“Huh?! What would I be jealous for?!” shouts Ena, her face bright red.

“You're jealous you didn't give her flowers first. Now you've got competition.”

“Can it!” Ena seethes, “I'm not jealous!”

Akito cackles and walks to the car. The rest of them follow suit.

After changing into comfortable pajamas and eating the best seafood broil she's ever had, Mizuki is once again cuddled up with Ena and the two of them chatter quietly about any topic that comes to mind. Mizuki is certain that Ena is just trying to keep her awake. Every once in a while, she motions for silence before opening her door a bit and peeking out of it. When she doesn't find what she's looking for, she closes it again and goes back to cuddling. Mizuki does not verbally question this routine, though she does send Ena questioning glances every once in a while. She's been doing this since the sun first set and they didn't exactly want to admit to being a bit peeved that whatever it was came between their cuddle time.

It's midnight when Ena does it for a final time, only when she's finished looking, she beckons Mizuki closer. The house is dark as the rest of the family is likely asleep. She takes their hand and leads them through the house.

“Where are we going?”

“The back porch. We're playing Bingo.”

The moderate early September night air hit Mizuki as they stepped out onto the porch, Ena told them to stay put while she grabbed the game. She returned with Bingo and also—

“Is that beer?”

Ena nods, “I got one for each of us, but if you don’t want to you don’t have to.”

“Aren’t we too young to drink?”

“Like I said, you don’t have to if you aren’t comfortable with it. I’m turning 18 in April so I’m sure it’ll be fine. Don’t worry, I’ve done this before.”

They do not point out that 18 is still underage, saying instead, “I don’t mind drinking. I’m just surprised.”

“Alright then,” she says, placing a can of Bud Light in front of her, “How many boards do you want?”

They take two while Ena takes three. She spins the wheel and calls out the numbers. They play a round in silence before Mizuki decides to take a sip of their beer. They’ve never had it before, but they know it’s popular.

They take a sip and immediately spit it back into the can. It’s gross! Who allowed for this?! If this was the drink of 'real men' then it was no wonder so many of the ones she encountered were so grumpy. She was never drinking this again.

Ena laughs at her reaction, “Hang on, I’ll get you something else.”

She nods gratefully and watches as Ena disappears into the house returning with a pair of canned cocktails.

“What are you gonna do with the beer?” she asks.

“I’ll drink it,” Ena shrugs, “I don’t really mind the taste and it’s not like dad’s gonna miss it.”

She takes a tentative sip of her new drink and is pleased to learn it’s easier on the taste buds. They continue their Bingo game.

A while later, when they’re on their second round of cover all and each depleted both of their alcoholic beverages (Mizuki tries not to think about how they’ve indirectly kissed) Ena speaks again.

“One day, I’m going to take you with me and we’ll ride on horseback until we’re so far north— O70— ‘till we’re so far north that Bingo isn’t Bingo anymore.”

“That’s impossible,” says Mizuki, finding the square and placing the chip on it, “Bingo is Bingo everywhere.”

“It’s not. I’ve heard up north— I25— up north they don’t let you have more than one card.”

“But that’d be boring.”

“Exactly, they do board games all wrong up there, they don’t play stack in Uno either. O72.”

“Yuuki says the food isn’t as good either.”

“Is that your sister?”

“Mhm.”

“Then can you— O74— can you ask her if the board game thing is true?”

“Sure, I’ll ask in my next letter to her.”

Ena nods, then spins the wheel again and continues with her original line of thought.

“Anyway— N44— So we go up north and we stay there, because even though the food’s awful and there’s no sweet tea or house rules the people are less judgemental and we’ll— I17— we’ll be together forever. What do you think?”

“I don’t know if I’d be able to go forever without sweet tea.”

“B1. I can learn to make sweet tea if you really want.”

“Why on horseback? I still can’t ride.”

“You can learn— B4— you don’t have to steer either. Besides, if we go on horseback we’ll see better sights. They build roads in such ugly places— O74— and it’s harder to track down a horse. Tracking a car’s easy if you have the licence plate.”

“So you’re suggesting running away?”

“B6.” Her face sours when she realizes she doesn’t have that one. “Sure I am, you don’t want to stay here forever, do you?”

“I mean I guess not. Sure, we could run away but where would we go?”

“North— N36— Until there’s no sweet tea or house rules. Just think of it, the leaves will be falling right about now and we can walk around on sidewalks and visit— I21— visit city parks. It’ll snow in the wintertime and we could go to the beach in the summer. Aspen could come with us and he’d be able to sniff fire hydrants and steal hotdogs and do— B7— he’ll get to do all of the things city dogs do in the movies. He’ll get to see the tree that bears his namesake.”

“I don’t know how to swim.”

“We don’t have to swim— N39— we can go boating, or if you’d rather stay on the shore we could have a little sand castle contest or find pretty shells for each other. G46. And the best part is that you won’t have to hear those people call you such awful things anymore."

“You’d do all of that for me? You’d run away for me?”

“Of course I would!”

“Why?”

“Because I love you. G55. I love you a whole bunch.” She searches her boards for the space.

“I think you’re drunk.”

“I’ve only had two cans.”

“I think that’s too much.”

“I’m not drunk, Mizuki.”

“You are, you have to be.”

Ena places her chip, squints up at them and then leans in. “Are you sure you’re not drunk?”

“I wouldn’t know,” now that they thought about it, their head did feel a bit fuzzy, “I’ve never had alcohol.”

She leans in closer until their noses are practically touching and they back away a bit. “Ena? You’re awfully close.”

Was that guilt flickering in her eyes, or was Mizuki drunk after all? She leans back, pokes their nose and whispers, “I just won Bingo.”

They look down and see that one of her boards has every space covered in chips.

“See,” she says, “Bingo.”