Chapter Text
A minor fight escalated way too far, and now they’re avoiding each other.
As much as it hurts Ena, this was the system she and Mizuki agreed on. Wait until they both cooled off, then talk.
Mizuki had already given the go ahead that she was okay, but Ena just couldn’t. Too many thoughts she had to quell.
You are a terrible person.
How does she care for you?
How does anyone care for you?
Small.
Pathetic.
Worthless.
Weak.
Father was right about you.
Every word correlates to a stroke, a color, and she just goes, blinded by her own self hatred.
A small voice in her head calls out, telling her to calm down, slow down, and lay down. The other, cynical part of her wants to lay down and not wake up, but this small voice fights, trying to get her to take a break, lay down, and think.
Still, she paints until her wrist hurts, eyes burn, legs feel like they’re about to crumble to dust, spine curved more than a shrimp, and forehead pounding. And even then, what stops her but the urge to crumple to the floor, curl into a ball, and just sob?
Even then, she cries not for the mental anguish or regret, but because everything hurts. Why can’t everything just stop hurting?
She wants Mizuki.
Mizuki is a liar.
She isn’t ready to talk to Ena, she just doesn’t want to constantly be at odds with her. It hurts. Maybe, as she she shifts to look into the restroom across the hall, she should just-
Blocking her line of sight is a pathetic looking Ena. Not in a bad way, but looking very needy. “Mizu…”
Mizuki tilts her head, trying to hide the thoughts in her head. “Ready to-“
Ena suddenly presses her cheek against Mizuki’s chest, interrupting her. “Howt…”
Mizuki hesitantly sets her hand on Ena’s scalp. What is it Takemi would say about this kind of speech pattern? A “messed up Phonology”? “You hurt, Enanan? Where?”
Ena points at her wrist, then her back, her legs, forehead, really all over.
The compliance is what tips Mizuki off that something’s off. Ena would fight, usually. The fact she just pointed to places of pain without complaint, or really without word, means something’s up.
”Are you feeling small, Ena?”
Ena shook her head indignantly. “No! ‘m big girl!” Doesn’t sound like it.
Ena’s stomach rumbles, and she grabs her stomach. “Hung’y…”
Mizuki smiles and picks up her regressed girlfriend. “Let’s get you some food, then.”
This is the third time Mizuki’s dropped the skillet.
She’s trying to make a grilled cheese, but she keeps messing up. Too much butter, too much cheese, and now she’s apparently too weak to hold the skillet.
Ena’s getting fussy, Mizuki feels funky, and Takemi’s out with her girlfriends, so that leaves one option: Yuki.
Mizuki picks up her phone and calls Yuki (remind her later to update his name on her phone), but when he picks up, she can’t respond. The words just don’t come out.
”Mizuki, you called me. Do you need something?” Mizuki nods, the words not leaving her mouth.
Somehow, Yuki gets the message. “I’m grabbing Kanade, too. We’re coming. Don’t do anything stupid.”
It takes no more than ten minutes for Yuki and Kanade to arrive, and they spot absolute chaos. Mizuki is trying to cook and having a meltdown. Ena’s at the table having a meltdown. Kanade guides Mizuki away from the stove, as Yuki takes over, starting a fourth and fifth grilled cheese.
When he’s done, he gifts both girls with a sandwich each. “So what’s going on?”
Mizuki looks at Ena like that answers anything. Ena, meanwhile, just keeps nibbling on her sandwich.
Kanade looks at Yuki and holds her hand parallel to the floor, at her side. They’re both small.
Yuki nods. He knows how to handle them.
He sets some coloring pages her prints using Mizuki’s printer on the table. Both girls perk up as her softly smiles. “Cartoons, anyone?”