Chapter Text
The intervention was Iruka.
"So," the woman herself dawdled, "what the hell is this all about?"
"Thank you for joining me today," Inori said, pointedly ignoring the question, hoping her voice had a tone that would give off a feeling of seriousness, "I know you have a terribly busy schedule."
"Yeah, no shit," Iruka hissed, yanking the food displayed onto her plate, "I told you I wanted to spend my break sleeping as soon as I returned to Japan— do you have any idea when the last time I had more than three hours of sleep was? I can't even sleep on planes!"
"Yes, yes, terribly tragic," The junior nodded in faux sympathy. Truth is, she was incredibly envious of Iruka. Apparently, being in Senior also meant constant travels, and the most overseas action Inori got was the periodical (and dreadful) Grand Prix and Junior Worlds. But today she was here to simmer in another type of misery, so she moved on with the topic. "I'll try my best to make it short. Thing is, I need someone to talk to about Hikaru with, so ma—"
Iruka dropped her food just as she was about to bite it.
"Oh my god. I am not doing this." She decided, grabbing her plate while getting up. "I'll ask a waiter to get this ready for travel. If you think I'll sit here and hear you babble endlessly about Hikaru when I still haven't even gotten home since landing, you—"
"If you hear me out," Inori bargained, a challenge flashing across her eyes, "I'll invite you next time I go on a shopping trip with my sister."
Iruka froze. The hand holding the plate shook a bit.
Silence settled between them.
"And when would that be?" She asked tentatively.
"Anytime after you get those hours of sleep you've been yearning for. I'll make it work."
Like magic, Iruka sat back down. Hook, line and sinker.
In all honesty, Inori couldn't believe she played this card herself— being close with someone who was actively pining after your sister was, to say the least, very awkward.
But alas, desperate times called for desperate measures. She would simply have to pay the price later.
"Just… hear me out, okay? Things have gotten complicated recently," Inori began explaining, as though that whole interaction hadn't just happened. Iruka picked her chopsticks back up and resumed eating. "Hikaru has been doing this really… annoying thing."
"Let me guess: she was breathing too loudly. Or, no, wait, I have a better one— she picked up something you dropped, and dared to smile when you thanked her. Maybe she even complimented one of your jumps, too?" What sounded like Iruka spit-balling was, in reality, much for Inori's embarrassment, actual things she had complained to Iruka about. "The horrors."
"Very funny," Inori grumbled— God, she used to be so petty as a kid. "No, actually. She has been breathing just fine, and she's still as polite as ever. That's not the issue here. As I was saying, before I got very rudely interrupted, it's uh… it just has been weird since our last training camp."
"Weird, huh?" Iruka parroted, disinterest as clear in her tone as the sleep deprivation was in her eyes.
"She keeps, like, looking at me this way — even during very inconvenient times, by the way, like when a coach is explaining something — touching my hand at random times — which scares the heck out of me, since she gives no warning — and overall doing all this… stuff that you would usually see people who are actually dating doing. And, okay, maybe you could argue that the fact that we kissed a couple times might have given her some mixed signa—"
"You what?!" Iruka uncharacteristically yelled, dropping her food onto the plate again. Inori started feeling antsy they would be kicked out for causing a scene.
"Can you please listen for longer than ten seco—"
"Holy shit, Dahlia owes me so much money," Iruka went on, grabbing her phone and typing like a madman. "What a lucky coincidence we're going on that shopping trip soon."
"Money? What do you mean she owes you money?"
"During one of the training camps, we made a bet on when you two would kiss." Iruka explained like it was no big deal, laser-focused on her screen, with fingers moving at a velocity a normal person couldn't keep up with. "Dahlia said it'd be when you guys were in Senior, but I was so sure it would happen before you were done with Junior— and there it is. I'm so good at these things."
"This is—" Inori started raising her voice, but then remembered where they were. "Do you realize how outrageous that is?" She whispered angrily.
"Do you realize how annoying it is to be in the same room as you two? If I had to live through that anyway, I might as well put some money on the line. Dahlia thought the same." Iruka then smirked, "And she lost."
"I will make it so my sister never stands within five hundred meters from you ever again."
"You can try," she narrowed her eyes. "She will be there to see me at the Olympics anyway."
"I will make it so she watches from at least five hundred and one meters away."
To her surprise, Iruka just snorted, setting her phone down.
"Sure, kid, whatever. What were you saying, anyway?"
Inori grumbled. Even though she didn't feel like sharing anything with Iruka anymore, she continued where they left off. She was just so desperate to have someone to talk with— someone who wouldn't feed her with pointless encouragement like Mika.
"What I keep trying to say is, she keeps acting this way with me, and it's starting to… it's doing something to me. I already had a hard time keeping my thoughts about her straight— stop laughing, I'm serious," She reprimanded when Iruka cackled, "but now it feels like… like, before, my thoughts about her were in this cup of water, filled to the brim. Now, it's… at some point it became a fountain. It keeps overflowing. And that's obviously a problem when you need to keep your table dry, or else how are you gonna do anything on it? When it was kept in the cup, sure, it was risky since it was full, but if you're careful enough you can move past it and keep the table functional. Now, the cup isn't enough anymore and there's just… water. Everywhere. I don't know what to do."
She paused.
"I don't even have a cloth to dry the table with." She added, in a whispered horror that would make you think she announced the passing of someone.
Once again, silence settled between the two. Inori kept her gaze unfocused, lost somewhere on the table, completely disconnected from the world around her. Iruka, meanwhile, had her mouth agape, stupefied.
"…Wow, this is serious." She said, at last. "I'm not sure I completely kept up with your cup-water-cloth metaphor, but I definitely got the gist of it. Although you might need to work on it a bit— this wouldn't really hit if you wrote it down."
"I couldn't care less about that!" Inori protested, back in the real world. "Just, please, help me understand, I… I'm not even sure if I got the gist of it."
Iruka stared at her quietly, so quietly that it made it all the more unnerving to the Junior. After reaching some sort of decision, she said:
"Listen, kid, my thoughts are: I'm not spelling your feelings out for you," She concluded, getting up. "Hopefully just hearing yourself talk was the push you needed to connect some dots. I'm going to the bathroom. All this blabber-fest is making me need to take a minute. Maybe multiple minutes."
"Wha— then what was even the point of meeting up to talk! You helped with nothing!"
"Hmm, I don't know," Iruka crossed her arms, blowing some hair out of her face. "Haven't you heard about how some therapists will stay silent the whole time, and that somehow gets people on the right track? We're doing something like that here." She nodded.
When she glanced towards the younger girl and was met with Inori's sheer despair, Iruka felt a pang of mercy in her heart.
"Trust me, I'm a specialist." She moved next to Inori, ruffling her hair. "You'll figure it out! Even something like that can't be that hard of a case for you to crack."
Afterwards, she started making her way to the bathroom. Before she got too far, however, she stopped.
"By the way," She turned, smile smug, "If you can make it so the outing with Mika is next Saturday, that'd be fantastic."
And then she was gone.
Inori sat in silence — except it wasn't, since the restaurant was fairly crowded — mulling over what had just happened. Not only did she not get any sage advice from Iruka (which was admittedly silly of her to even hope for in the first place), she got made fun of and promised to sacrifice one of her weekends withstanding the most awkward silence in human existence.
There was still a lot she needed to learn in life.
Interrupting her brief moment of introspection, she couldn't help but glance when Iruka's phone lit up, noticing it was a message from Dahlia. Even though it wasn't lined towards her, she could recognize what it said, since there was only a single word:
Fuck.
The third time had a twist to it.
It was time for another West Japan meet, and Inori couldn't be more excited.
She had been in top form since the beginning of the season, after all, and she couldn't wait to show it off to both her family and colleagues. The latest jump combination she' d managed to incorporate into her program would drive everyone insane— Inori had gone lengths to keep it a secret until she could personally show it to her family, after all. She also missed her colleagues— spending some time catching up would be exactly what she needed to take some of the edge off before competing.
All in all, this was mounting up to be a fantastical meet.
…Or, at least, that's what she would've liked to have said.
If only Hikaru weren't inexplicably there.
"Why are you here?" Inori asked, at last. She couldn't pretend she wasn't there anymore. They were sitting together and everyone else they knew had left the waiting room.
Inori's family and Coach Tsukasa had arrived much earlier than necessary — a trauma response from Inori — so they had as much time as they'd need to fetch anything that would be necessary for competing but slipped their minds when preparing. Forgotten skates, for instance.
But arriving extremely early also meant that most of Inori's acquaintances and fellow competititors hadn't arrived just yet, so Inori had no one to talk or catch up with, like she hoped.
Except Hikaru.
Who, again, for some unfathomable reason was there too, arriving shortly after Inori's family.
"Well," As though she knew Inori's bubble would burst eventually, Hikaru started speaking with an air of satisfaction. "I had some break time gracefully given to me," she explained, as if they didn't both know it was more like forced upon her. "So I decided to visit my old hometown for a while."
"This is quite far from the place you used to live at." Inori pointed out, uselessly.
It was another neighbourhood entirely.
She didn't go into that much detail, however.
"You know what they say…" Hikaru's expression shifted, smile gone. "Home is where the hear—"
"You're not finishing that. I refuse to hear it." Inori got up. The situation was getting out of hand too quickly. Then, she started to do some small stretches. "I might go on a run to warm up."
"How convenient— I was just thinking about stretching my legs as well." Hikaru quipped, immediately up.
If only she'd stretch them all the way back to Tokyo, Inori thought mournfully.
"I'm sure you were." She said, instead. "Let me just make sure my things are all in order before we go." God knows she'd rather die than go through an I-forgot-my-skates-again scenario. Even if she had already checked it two times since arrival.
Hikaru went on her phone while she crossed her mental checklist.
Dress, check. MP3, check. Skates, check — she took a second to close her eyes in sheer relief. Phone, check. Water bottle, check.
Weird.
Everything essential for competing was there, no doubt about that.
But, still, Inori couldn't help this nagging feeling of there being a giant hole amongst her belongings. And, the more she thought about it, the more the shape of that hole became… almost like a zigzagging cylinder. Almost like…
Oh no.
"My worm plushie," Inori whispered, realization hitting her too late. "I forgot it,"
Hikaru, noticing something was amiss, turned her phone off to look at Inori.
"Hm? Did you say something about a plushie?" She asked, all too innocent. She had no idea Inori's world was crumbling then and there.
"My worm plushie," Inori repeated, louder this time. "I forgot it!"
"Oh," Was all Hikaru could say. She didn't tend to bring plushies to competitions herself, so she had no idea how serious this was to the shorter girl. "You're plenty famous, though— I'm sure a lot of fans will throw tons at you when you're done performing."
"But they won't be worms,"
Even though everyone was very respectful about it, the people who cheered for Inori didn't tend to partake in her worm enthusiam. They'd most often than not throw other animal plushies, like bees or the like.
She imagined sitting at the kiss and cry holding a bee plushie.
Her world started spinning.
Thus far, every time she was at kiss and cry, she couldn't remember not being with her plushie— it was always the first thing she held on to when she heard the results, the best and the worst of them.
All of them.
Hikaru stared at Inori's increasingly pale face until an understanding expression took over.
"Okay," She said with a tone of finalty. "I get it now."
"Huh?" Inori asked, not really out of the daze she was in. She only truly came back to reality when she noticed Hikaru was gathering her things.
Then she was heading for… the exit?
Her steps were so quick, Inori started following her without thinking much about it, trying to understand what was going on in the younger girl's mind.
When the question finally came to her, they were already running from the arena.
"Wha— where are you going?!" Inori wheezed, breathless all too soon; she hadn't readied herself mentally to be running right now.
"To do something I've wanted to do for months now!" She said, not turning back. Even from behind, she could tell Hikaru was beaming.
Then, as though second-guessing herself, her steps faltered. Making up her mind, she turned her head back to Inori, still running. "Don't worry— I'll be alright! Just focus on your warm up! See you soon!"
Inori lost sight of Hikaru's disappearing silhouette all too soon. Everything was so sudden, part of her still thought the younger girl was standing beside her.
She snapped out of it when she heard Mika's voice in the distance.
"Non~! What are you doing over there?" Her sister asked, jogging to meet her. "Were you thinking about buying a snack? You could've texted us to get it, silly."
"I, uh," Inori sputtered, realizing she hadn't kept track of how long she had been standing there. She tried her best carefree smile. "…yeah! I wanted to get something but couldn't decide on what."
"Well, consider yourself the luckiest person in the whole wide world, for having a big sister that knows you so well!" Mika announced, all too proud. "I got those chocolate cereal bars you like to eat before competing!"
Inori was stunned for a second. She didn't expect her sister to have an immediate response, so she tried to rewire her brain as fast as she could to keep the act going.
"I'm— oh, wow, thank you," She said, grabbing the bars clumsily. Her stomach was tied in so many knots, eating was the last thing she wanted to do right now. When she saw her mom approaching behind Mika, however, she peeled one open.
She couldn't stress any of them over something silly like this. Not after what she did at this same meet all those years ago.
"Oh, wow," Inori exclaimed after the first bite, "It's the exact same brand I like, too! That's incredible, sis!"
"I know, ri—" Mika started to gloat, but was interrupted.
"I was the one who had to tell your sister which one was it," Her mom said, glaring half-heartedly at Mika, "she was so all over the place, trying to decide between three different brands — which all looked the same to me, but I was never an athlete, so who knows — that I called your dad to get the name, since he likes buying them in bulk."
Mika turned to her mom with a sour expression.
"You know what, I might not lend you my charger after turning on me." She hid her purse from view.
"Oh? Your phone ran out of battery, mom?" Inori asked, worried.
"Don't worry about it, dear," Her mom said lovingly. Then, she narrowed her eyes towards Mika, "and yes, you will, young lady— who even bought it for you in the first place?"
"Wha— against my will! All I did was mention was that my old charger broke, not that you needed to buy a new one— I'm a working adult! I can do these things by myself!" She protested, even though it fell on deaf ears. After getting no response, she sighed dramatically while opening her purse, "Fine. Here you go."
"Thank you, sweetheart," And, with the wind, all the strictness was gone. "I'll find somewhere in the arena to charge it. Let's head back together."
"Sure, but, um," Inori kept looking around, "Where's Coach Tsukasa?"
"Went somewhere to 'run off the nerves'" Her mother explained, sounding tired. "So many years, and I still don't understand that man."
Even if unintentional, that had managed to get Inori's first genuine reaction since they arrived: a resounding laugh.
"Inori-san!" Tsukasa greeted, incredibly soaked. "Feeling the competitive nerves hit you yet?"
"Coach Tsukasa! Hi!" Inori waved as happily as she could. She was having a hard time getting through all the cereal bars— hopefully Tsukasa would want some, too.
"Did you have to run that much?" Inori's mom asked, trying to sound as polite as possible. Mika held in a laugh.
"If I don't, I get this unnerving feeling that something is wrong— it has basically become a pre-competition ritual for West Japan meets." Tsukasa explained, as though his reasoning was perfectly sound. All Inori's mom could do was nod (politely) in response. "Good thing there wasn't anything to run for this time, right, Inori-san?"
Inori internally winced. She was so close to taking her mind off of it, too.
"Yeah!" She agreed, expression not faltering. "I already went over my things five times now— the skates were there in all of them."
But not the worm, her mind depressingly added. She kept smiling nonetheless.
Mika's phone suddenly went off, taking most of them by surprise.
Weirdly enough, Mika was unresponsive, eyes fixed on something else.
"…? Mika?" Inori's mom inquired. When she touched Mika's arm, she snapped out of it, looking back at her.
"Hm? Oh, my phone!" She jumped, grabbing it. "Oh? Dad? Why would he be calling me instead of— oh, right, I forgot about your phone."
"You should go see what he wants," Her mom encouraged. "There's still quite a while before Inori has to go in."
"Yeah, that's true," Mika nodded, "I'll go see what's up."
And so, she was gone. Inori idly wondered what would get her dad to call so close to competition time. Well, there was still about an hour left, but still. Deciding she had bigger fish to fry, she looked back to the bars she still had left, trying her best to not let the despair she was feeling show.
"Where's Kamisaki-san?" Tsukasa wondered, looking around.
"Inori explained that she had to leave a while ago— apparently she had business in the area, and had just dropped by to say hi." Inori's mom explained offhandedly, distracted by going through her purse.
"Oh, did she? I thought she'd stick around to watch the competition— it just seemed like something that she would do." Tsukasa commented, murmuring the last part.
Suddenly, Inori felt like eating a brick, instead.
"Do you want some of these, Coach Tsukasa?" Sensing the opportunity, she offered, holding up the cereal bars she had left.
"Oh, I wouldn't dare, Inori-san!" Tsukasa was quick to deny, thinking Inori's offer was made out of politeness. "Calorie consumption before competing is extremely important! Please feel free to enjoy those to the fullest."
In recent years, Inori very, very rarely felt frustrated with her coach, and, to be fair, he hadn't even done anything wrong by denying— instead, he thought this was for the best. She knew that. She really did. Unreasonably, she still felt like screaming.
Her mom and Coach Tsukasa then engaged in small talk for a while; Inori, lost in her own thoughts, didn't pay particular attention to any of the various topics they brought up.
"By the way, I've been meaning to ask— is your phone out of battery?" Tsukasa asked at some point, curious.
"Oh, yes. Apparently, I forgot to charge it last night." She explained, sighing. "And speaking of being forgetful, that's probably what's going on with her dad. He always forgets where things are at home, so, every time I'm out, he calls."
"Oh, he's at home?" Tsukasa was visibly surprised, "He couldn't come?"
"No, he had an important meeting scheduled— I found out later than I should've that he asked for a day in home office to try and sneak off to see Inori's performance, but I didn't let him." She sighed again, even though she was smiling now. "He's such a handful sometimes."
"Sounds like a great dad to me!" Tsukasa exclaimed, vibrant. "Going to such lengths to try to see Inori-san perform— I need to work hard to keep my spot as her biggest fan."
"The biggest fan will always be the mother," She corrected, admonishingly.
"More like the sister!" Mika added, startling everyone— no one had seen her return.
"Hi, sweetheart. How was the call?" Her mom immediately cut to the chase. She was worried, after all, even if she had tried to not show it.
Mika froze up for a fraction of a second; no one seemed to really notice it.
"It was, uh— well, it was… It was," Mika kept looking for words, but none of them seemed to be able to convey what she wanted to say. "I, we definitely chatted. That we did."
"About?" Her mom pressed, impatiently. Inori was giving Mika a weird look. Even Coach Tsukasa seemed curious with her reaction.
"He— he wanted to know whether he could still make it to the meet if he left now," Mika explained, words quivering. "I-I had to sit with him and explain all the reasons why he shouldn't."
"My god— see what I meant, Coach?" Her mom turned to Tsukasa, who nodded in understading. Inori was the only one who saw the way Mika immediately relaxed when her mom turned her back to her.
Unbeknownst of Inori's suspicions, Mika sat down next to her.
"What are you hiding?" She whispered, noticing the way Mika flinched. She really was hiding something. "I promise not to tell mom," She tried to bargain.
"Well…" Mika started, unsure. "Let's say I got… the most interesting call from dad,"
"About?" Inori insisted, unrelenting.
"I— okay, listen," Mika tried to compromise, "I promise I'll tell you after you're done competing, okay? Don't worry! It's a good thing!"
"…Is it? You're not being very reassuring." Inori noted, narrowing her eyes.
"I am ninety-nine percent sure it is!" Mika reinforced, sounding more confident this time. She even gave a thumbs up.
That didn't really bring peace to Inori's soul, but she decided to drop it for now. She'll just go back to questioning her sister after all is said and done.
But, even if she decided to leave it, she still kept note of the way Mika's leg began bouncing unceasingly.
Fifteen minutes before it was time for Inori's group to be called, a loud sound was heard from the entrance. Every person present turned their heads towards it, alarmed.
What no one would expect, not even in their wildest dreams, was to be met with the one and only Hikaru Kamisaki, holding onto the main door's handle like her life depended on it, soaked to such degree a few wondered if she fell into a river on her way to the arena. Beyond that, to top it off, she was even holding a—
…Wait. Huh?
It felt like the very air in that room stilled, as people tried to process what that thing could possibly be. Like they couldn't keep reacting until they knew what they were even reacting to.
What even is that? Was the thought running through every person's head.
Every person, except a select four.
"Oh my God," Inori exclaimed in a whispered horror. Mika had her hands over her mouth. Tsukasa looked stupefied. Inori's mom just looked mildly confused.
"I got it," Hikaru wheezed out at last, tumbling away from the entrance. "I got the worm."
The worm.
It was there, right where they stood, even though it really shouldn't be.
Even though it should've been very, very far away from where they were.
"What—how—the—" Inori's mind was a mess. She couldn't form coherent sentences. Seeing the worm—seeing Hikaru hold the worm— felt as surreal to Inori as witnessing a bench stuck on the ceiling. It made no sense—it should be on the ground.
Very much like how the worm should be at her house.
Mika turned to Inori, with some hidden mischief in her eyes, "Well… I did say I got the most interesting call from dad earlier."
Inevitably, seeing the shock in Inori's eyes as she turned back to look at her, Mika thought back on it.
"Mika, there's this teenager trying to break through our front door!"
—Was never a phrase Mika ever expected to hear when picking up a call from her dad. From anyone in particular, really.
She stood there, thinking she might've forgotten the meaning of all words for a second. A what was trying to what.
Then, the call picked up on an unidentifiable loud noise, which finally brought her back to reality. Without noticing, her heart rate had already spiked up.
But, even with the possible evidence of imminent threat, Mika needed to understand:
"A-A teenager you said?" She repeated, even if she had stuttered a bit. It just felt too ridiculous to say out loud. "How can this even be? Could you, uh— could you describe them?"
"It's a girl. She's, uh, she has long black hair tied up in a ponytail. Looks to be around Inori's age? Tall, too, I think. That's all I can tell you with the front door's camera."
A girl with long black hair, around Non's age, tall… Mika began cataloguing those characteristics in her mind. Has she ever met someone like—
Hold up.
"Oh my God," Mika whispered, not believing the place her mind went.
There was no way.
There was absolutely no way.
Still. She had to ask.
"Dad, do you think it could be Hikaru Kamisaki?"
"Hikaru who? Is that a friend of Inori's?"
"Hikaru Kamisaki, dad! You should know her!" Immediately after Mika said that, exasperated, an idea hit her. "Wait, wait, wait, thats it! Dad, open google and search Hikaru Kamisaki— see if it's the same girl."
"Google…? Is a celebrity trying to break into our house?" Was all Mika could hear before shuffling noises took over her dad's voice. Every second without an answer was torture.
"—Oh, yeah! I've seen this kid before." Came the answer at last. Even his tone lightened up. "Most photos of Inori on the podium has her in it, too."
A few seconds of silence were allowed to reign.
Then, the absurdity of the situation hit him, a significant amount later than when compared to Mika.
"Why the hell is this kid trying to break into our house?!" He yelled, scandalized.
"I don't know! That's why you should've gone to see what was up from the start!" She almost threw both hands up in the air. When the phone slipped, however, she forced herself to keep them in place.
"And God knows I will now! Celebrity or not, she will get a piece of my mind."
And so he hung up, not knowing the anguish it'd inflict on Mika, left with no more updates on the situation.
Should I tell mom about this? She wondered. After contemplating for a while, waiting for her father to call with news seemed like the better option. How could she even say Hey, mom, remember Hikaru? The skater? Yeah, turns out she's trying to break into our house as we speak. Dad probably has it handled, though.
She kept thinking up multiple scenarios in her head, but none of them made any sense whatsoever. What the hell was Hikaru thinking? Wasn't she here not that long ago? It couldn't have been more than an hour, right? How long would it even take to get to her house, using the train? Mika wasn't sure— she hadn't been paying any particular attention during their commute. Maybe thirty minutes?
After an undentifiable amount of time, given how she was completely lost in the scenarios she kept making up, her phone went off again. Mika doesn't think she had ever picked up a call so quickly.
"Dad, hi," She said as fast as she could. "How was it?"
"Hikaru-chan is the sweetest kid I've ever met!" Was her dad's joyous greeting. Mika felt like a brick fell onto her head. "I don't think I've ever met a teenager that polite, and I thought our Inori was ahead of the curve when it came to that."
If someone heard this without context, they'd never guess you're describing someone who was trying to break into your house, was Mika's silent thought, which she wisely decided to not say out loud.
"What, uh, even happened though?" was Mika's dubious response instead.
"Oh, you should've seen her face when I opened the door," He told the story with a smile so obvious Mika could see it, "poor girl went pale from terror. Apparently, she thought Inori's whole family went to the meet." He explained, as if that justified anything.
"What did she even want?"
Mika needed to know. It was driving her insane.
"Inori's worm plushie!" He revealed with a laugh, "I couldn't believe it at first!"
Well.
She could not believe it, either.
"Are you, uh… really?" Mika asked. She had to be sure this wasn't all one big lie. She was starting to think Hikaru was never there in the first place.
"Yeah!" Again, her dad's sheer joy kept leading her to believe otherwise. Maybe she should encourage him to do a medical check-up soon; It had been a while since the last time, now that she thought about it. "It was a very interesting conversation, the one we had."
It's Matrix, Mika concluded. It all made sense. I took the wrong pill at some point.
"I didn't know Inori had a friend that cared this much— I'm very happy."
When she heard that, however, she was back in reality.
Something was off about what her dad said, but Mika didn't know what exactly.
Was Hikaru worried about something? Regarding Inori, specifically? Why would she—
Then, it clicked for Mika.
She thought back on all the interactions she had with Inori since she and her mom came back.
Non actually was distressed— I wasn't seeing things. She forgot the worm plushie and it was messing her up.
Inori had always been a kid that stood out for making sure her emotions didn't get in the way— a habit Mika wished hadn't gotten to the point that it did. Even her mom, who tried her best, had a hard time seeing what was below the surface sometimes. The fact that Hikaru picked up on it surprised her most of all.
Were they always this close? Non rarely talks about her. In fact, I can't remember one time she's talked about her unrelated to skating.
But then, Mika remembered.
That time, all those years ago, when Inori ran away from Hikaru in front of her and her mom, escaping into the empty streets in the middle of the night. She remembered how Hikaru promised to get her back, and how — when she did — she stood resolute besides a tear-stained Inori, both covered in leaves and small scratches.
She thought about the way Hikaru refused to let go of Inori's hand until they had to go their separate ways. She thought about the look on Inori's face when she came home the following day, how she noticed something had changed in her but Mika didn't know what.
Of course, She closed her eyes. I should've realized sooner.
"I'll call you back after the competition," Mika said, a lot calmer now. "We still need to talk about this in length."
"Of course! We also need to catch up your mom to everything, after all!" Oh, God. That was something Mika would think about later. "Do make sure to tell Hikaru-chan that she's invited over for dinner anytime! I'd love to talk to her again."
After I have a conversation with her, that's for sure. Were Mika's thoughts, which she, again, wisefully decided to keep for herself.
"Sure, dad." She decided on, instead. "I'll talk to you soon. Love you."
"Love you too, sweetheart."
And then she hung up.
Boy, did she have a lot to mull over.
"Hikaru, why are you— how did you— why—"
"Don't… worry about that right… now," The younger girl waved her off, attempting to stand straight (she couldn't). "just focus on… the competition and… the worm… that you have now,"
She dared to raise the plushie, handing it to Inori as though it were a trophy. An offering. She kneeled, even, but Inori was pretty sure that was because of the difficulty she was having keeping her balance.
Regardless of the reason, it didn't make the situation any better.
Everyone was staring at them. Inori felt like she could die out of sheer embarrassment.
"You, uh… Thank you," She said, although it could barely be heard. She didn't want the people around them to hear her. "You, uh… you must've had quite the trip."
"It wasn't… that much, I… I only ran around eleven train stops," She explained, so breathless Inori had a hard time understanding. She tried getting back up, but she buckled back down. Inori moved with her, hand reaching out uselessly.
"…Eleven?" The shorter girl asked when she finally made sense of Hikaru's words.
That was such a specific number— it didn't even match up to how many train stops there were between where she lived and the arena.
"Yeah, I got off after the first few stops," Hikaru explained, voice more stable now, "I managed to make it so… it'd be just right,"
"Just right for what," Inori asked, feeling like she was going crazy. None of Hikaru's actions or words made any sense.
"That… doesn't really… matter right now," Hikaru brushed it off, managing to get up this time. "What matters is that… we got a happy ending! You have the plushie now!"
Inori stared at her. Wordlessly, she took the plushie from Hikaru.
"Inori, I hadn't realized we forgot the plushie!" Her mom remarked, surprised. Then, she turned to Hikaru, awed. "You went all this way just to get it?"
"Yes," Hikaru nodded, putting on her best smile, "Mr. Yuitsuka was incredibly helpful."
"Oh, dear!" Inori's mom put her hands over her mouth, admiration for Hikaru going through the roof. Inori felt nauseous witnessing it. "That's so sweet of you! Inori, doesn't this remind you of when Coach Tsukasa went for your skates?"
"Uh… yeah!" Inori nodded, trying her best at a smile. She turned to Coach Tsukasa, who was awfully quiet. "Doesn't it give you, uh, flashbacks, coach?"
Inori was startled when she saw Tsukasa's expression. It was like he was hesitant of even opening his mouth to speak. Given how Inori had shed the spotlight onto him, however, he tried his best:
"Ah, yes! Yes, it ah… does!" Inori couldn't see it since she was staring at Tsukasa, but Hikaru was staring daggers at the coach, making him sweat cold. "Sure brings back memories, ha ha…"
Then, to his utter confusion, Hikaru mouthed what he was pretty sure was an I beat you.
Beat him in what, he was desperate to ask.
Not that it mattered, but still.
"Kamisaki-san, you… really need to go see the nurse," Mika cut in, "You look like you're about to collapse."
"I'm fine! I can go after Inori competes," Hikaru reassured, smiling charmingly while moving past Mika.
"Absolutely not," Mika was adamant, holding Hikaru by the arm. Inori immediately noticed how Hikaru paused at that, unsure on what to do— clearly, going against what a grown-up says was like pulling teeth to her. Inori felt a sick satisfaction seeing it. "You're going to the ER they have here, and we'll have a nice chat while you're being examined."
"A, uh, nice chat you say," Hikaru repeated, smiling somewhat nervously now.
"Yes. A very nice chat." Mika nodded, smiling as well. Hikaru couldn't read what that smile meant, and it was only making her more nervous. "I just feel like we have so much to talk about, don't you think?"
"I…" Hikaru looked at Inori, helplessly. Inori shrugged her shoulders, trying not to laugh. She had no idea what Mika was going on about, but she was having a great time. "…Sure! I'd love to."
And so, Hikaru went to the small emergency room after everything was settled. She kept insisting she was fine, but Mika all but dragged her by the hair. Since Inori still had about five minutes, she could at least accompany Hikaru there.
Truth was, she was desperate to talk to Hikaru alone. She kept trying to make up a reason in her mind to send Mika away for a couple minutes, so they could finally have a conversation without someone listening in.
Her sister, however, wise as she self-proclaimed to be, understood it all clearly— Inori wasn't sure if the fuming looks she kept sending her were what did the trick. As soon as they got there, Mika called the nurse to have a conversation outside the small ER. Inori didn't particularly care about what Mika told the nurse, but it seemed convincing enough.
At last, they were alone.
Inori knew she didn't have much time, so she cut to the chase:
"You need to stop doing this."
"Doing what?" Hikaru asked, mannerism still woozy. Inori could easily tell how much she had been pretending to be okay around Mika.
"I told you playing dumb doesn't fit you," was all Inori gave as a reply, tone dry.
Hikaru laughed, and her wobblyness would make you to think she was high — not that Inori even knew what that looked like, but she'd be willing to bet it would be something like this. She was wrong.
"Listen— I promise it wasn't an impulse, or some pointless whim. I really have been wanting to do something like this for a while," Hikaru explained, sitting calmly on the stretcher. Mindlessly, she tried waving her legs, but since she was too tall to do it comfortably, she resigned herself to sitting still.
What was it that she had been wanting to do? Why did it take months? Why did she have to do all that in the most ridiculous way possible? What was the point?
Although all those questions had been undeniably running around in her mind, Inori was acting on a mission, and she didn't have enough time. She grabbed Hikaru by the collar — which was incredibly dangerous since it almost made her fall from the stretcher — and did the one thing she's been wanting to since she saw that godforsaken plushie.
With an amalgamation of different feelings that could be grossly simplified as unrestrained happiness and confusion all mixed together, the two skaters had, at last, their fourth kiss.
Hikaru let out a surprised noise. Clumsily, she held onto the stretcher, while also trying to lean into the kiss. She kept holding the uncomfortable position, all the while Inori didn't even seem to notice they were a misstep away from completely falling over.
In fact, Inori was so absorbed in her own head, she wasted no time going for what had mainly motivated the kiss in the first place.
She opened her mouth, and while Hikaru seemed to have shifted in some way, Inori closed it as quickly as she could.
"Ow!" Came the inevitable complaint.
Although, this time, from the wrong voice.
Inori pulled away, closing her eyes while still holding onto Hikaru's collar.
When she managed to get them open, she was surprised to be met with that same annoying smile— a mirror of the one she saw shortly after their second kiss. Immediately, she understood what had happened. She held Hikaru tighter, annoyance all over her face.
"I told you I'm adaptable," The younger girl dared to say, with the nerve to follow it up with a wink.
"You—"
Before Inori could properly say anything, the sound of the door being opened was heard, leading her to let Hikaru go with a startle. Trying to keep her expression as neutral as she possibly could — her bottom lip really was hurting, after all — Inori stepped away from the stretcher. Hikaru hopped so she could sit normally on it again.
"See, ma'am? So many different perspectives, and all to the same scene!" Mika emphasized, followed by a tired-looking nurse. "Who's to say who has the most accurate point of view regarding Kamisaki-san's well-being?"
"Well, I probably would, if I had been allowed to do the check-up once she got here," The nurse said, although you could feel no malice from it; she just seemed genuinely exhausted.
"And that you shall!" Mika nodded, signaling to Hikaru with her hand. Then, she turned to her younger sister, "And you, Non, really need to pick up the pace— I'm pretty sure I heard the announcer call your name just now."
"Oh, God, I need to go," Inori panicked, not even bothering to look back on Hikaru. In all honesty, a part of her kept telling her Hikaru didn't deserve it. When she passed by Mika, however, she slowed down to give her a half-hearted warning. "Watch out what you're gonna say,"
"Don't I always?" Her sister feigned innocence, batting her eyelashes. Inori just went back to running.
Although she was, admittedly, extremely curious about what her sister had to say, she couldn't keep them company— she had to compete, after all. Now that she thought back on it, the stress of having Hikaru sent to the ER should've weighed on Inori, but the truth was that she never felt lighter on her feet.
As she stepped onto the rink, the ridiculousness of the situation had fully sunk in. All throughout the warm-up, she kept laughing. Every time she stretched her lips, the slightly painful reminder of what had gone down made her giggle again, igniting an infinite loop. Her fellow competitors kept sending her worried glances, to the point it distracted some of them from their jumps.
Even when her name was called to compete, she couldn't rid herself of her giddiness.
Hikaru is so stupid, she kept thinking, always laughing to herself, She keeps doing so many overt, weird things— She's so— everything about her is—
The realization came to her then, with a strength similar to the breeze she always felt whenever she skated: calm, familiar, and all that she looked forward to.
Ah,
I love her.
With the fluttering feeling swimming around in her chest, alongside the quiet happiness inherently felt whenever she was on the ice, it was as though her body itself encouraged her realization to take a step further:
I think I've been loving her for a long time now.
Like the weather itself had cleared up, she could see everything for what it was, without that annoying fogginess that always got in the way whenever it came down to her thoughts about her rival.
She was in love with Hikaru Kamisaki, and that buried affection had been dictating how they danced around each other for all these years.
And throughout this whole time, Hikaru just let her.
While all those thoughts ran through her head, she reached the end of her program, with a slight change in her ending position; hand over her heart, she ended looking upwards.
I love her.
Maybe it really was as simple as that.
Now that she came to terms with it, she was free to take the wheel and direct their relationship to wherever it felt most right.
That understanding, however, brought to light a question that petrified her, forcing her feet back down. A question that had been in the back of her mind for a long while, although buried under her stubborn denial.
She didn't know how to answer it. She had absolutely no idea, and that blankness terrified her a thousand times more than when she forgot her choreography during a tournament, than when she forgot her skates, than all of the moments when she felt the ground under her give out.
How could it not?
This was Hikaru, this was her, this was their whole lives. For the first time, Inori fully, consciously understood just how much had been at play, what was at stake and she hadn't even known.
Under a different shade of denial, she buried her feelings once again— but this time with the uneasiness that came with being someone who knew there were skeletons in their closet.