Chapter Text
Some weeks later.
“And now, a toast,” bellows Kasumi, raising an almost depleted glass of beer high above the rest of the table. “A toast for the cutest, smartest and, perhaps only after Shizuku, the person who is most fluent in the French language sat at this table. The one whom, by the way, happened to have aced her final exam on the very language!”
A collective gasp overtakes the members of the gathering, broken only by an eye-roll from Shizuku, who nonetheless raises a glass of water.
“Kasumi, I told you already,” Shizuku says. “You’re not supposed to know that.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Kasumi waves off. “And put that glass down, Shizuku. It’s bad luck. Not that it has ever stopped me before.”
“Yes it has,” Rina says, deadpan as she holds her chuu-hi in the air, and leans against Shizuku into a conspiratorial whisper. “If her calculus grades are any indication, at least.”
The table breaks into laughter and the clinking of glasses makes way for more lively conversation, which is almost entirely carried by Kasumi’s and Yuu’s tacitly-understood drinking competition.
“Say, Shizuku,” Rina asks some time later. “How did you get so good at French? I thought TAs had to be graduate students.”
“Oh, that. Well, my mom is a diplomat, so I spent a good portion of my childhood in France,” Shizuku says, casual as ever. “She still lives there, actually. I visit every time I can.”
“Whoa, that’s wicked cool,” Yuu says, slamming her hands on the table. “No wonder you’re so...classy? So...Refined? So...”
“Yuu, please,” Ayumu says, looking sheepish. “I’ve told you all of this before. You’re embarrassing Shizuku.”
Kasumi, suddenly quiet, takes small sips from her beer as she sneaks glances at Shizuku, who hasn’t looked her way anywhere as much as she would have liked that night.
“Oh, no, it’s okay,” Shizuku says, with immaculate courtesy. “But that’s actually where I got into fencing, since it was popular with the children of embassy employees. And, of course, that’s also where I got into acting.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” chips Rina. “You have this classic look to you. Especially in that beige raincoat. You kinda remind me of—What’s the actress’s name? Something-something Hepburn.”
“Audrey?” Shizuku asks with obvious surprise, even blushing a bit. “I remind you of Audrey Hepburn? That might be the nicest thing anybody has ever said to me!”
It doesn’t happen often, but Kasumi wishes for once that Rina wasn’t breaking out of that shyness of hers.
At least, with all matters Shizuku-related.
“Yeah, you would look good with her hair, too,” Ayumu says, moving with her hands in the shape of a bob-cut. “Short.”
“No,” says Kasumi, before she has time to regret it.
The whole table goes quiet and turns squarely in her direction. Shizuku cocks her head just a bit, furrowing her eyebrows. A small smile creeps on one side of her lips and Kasumi tries not to stare.
“I like Shizuku’s hair,” she says in a small voice. “Like...this.”
Shizuku is about to say something, when a knock on the door is swiftly followed by Ai, who enters their private room with two more beer glasses in hand.
“This round’s on the house,” she grins, placing both glasses in front of Kasumi and Yuu, respectively. “Since y’all seem to be having so much fun.”
“Ai,” Rina tries to protest, as both Kasumi and Yuu finish off their current glasses in an impressive feat of synchronised university etiquette. “Are you sure?”
“But of course, anything for Rinari’s friends,” Ai says, winking sweetly at the younger girl. Rina shifts a little in her seat, and plays with the pink charm on her phone by way of a response. “So are the rest of you sure you don’t want anything? Shizuku? Ayumu?”
“No, thank you so much, Miyashita,” Ayumu is quick to say. “Both Shizuku and I have an early morning. Plus, someone’s got to get these two home.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Ai says. “But I swear, Ayumu, if you don’t start calling me Ai , I’ll never allow you in this place again.”
Placing the bill safely in Rina’s hands, who makes a quick job of splitting it and requesting each member’s part, Ai removes her apron.
“Anyway, my shift is over. You guys take your time, and get home safely!” Ai chirps. “Rinari, if you guys need anything else, feel free to let my dad know.”
She gently tousles Rina’s hair before disappearing behind the wooden door. Rina, who doesn’t stop playing with her phone charm, seems to linger behind her absence.
Not long later, Shizuku feels a tug on her sweater sleeve coming from Rina, who has been looking at her phone.
“Hey, Shizuku,” Rina said, looking at the door one last time. “You don’t live in the dorms, do you?”
“Hmm, no. But I am on the way,” Shizuku says, after thinking about it a bit. “Why do you ask? Can I help with anything?”
Rina looks down, and blinks a couple of times, clearly taking her time choosing her words. If Shizuku assumes she’s learning some of Kasumi’s roommate’s mannerisms, she would dub this as a form of a blush.
“No,” Rina starts. “Well, yes. I need to...I want to meet someone right now.”
She gives the door another peek.
“Do you think you can make sure Kasumi makes it to the dorms? You can stay over if you want; I’ll be back by then. Just make sure she makes it to the building.”
Shizuku looks at Rina for a couple of short moments, and feels a swell in her chest that she figures must be as close as she’ll ever feel to being proud of a younger sibling.
“Of course I can do that, Rina,” she says, not having to try very hard to bring about her brightest smile. “I’m sure I can manage Kasumi somehow.”
As if remembering something, Rina peers over to Kasumi, who seems to now be chugging her glass alongside Yuu, much to the apparent chagrin of Ayumu.
“I...hope so,” she says and, flashing a rare smile: “Good luck.”
“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh,” Yuu slurs, jumping up on the stone ledge of the fountain in the middle of the campus square. “What’s next? Karaoke? Another bar? Let’s go back to the apartment. I have some wine there!”
Kasumi joins Yuu on the ledge, who is held only in place by a frantic Ayumu, who herself switches between bouts of concern and laughter. Shizuku is slow to catch up to them, letting the mid-December wind coil past her friends, billow up her loose raincoat, and scurry up past the brilliance of the holiday lights. A fragrant, rainy night, the ones she was raised to love, is more intoxicating than the most sought-after vintage in the world, she figures.
“Ayumu, oh my gosh, Ayumu,” Yuu says, completely forgetting about the world. “I love you so much, Ayumu. You are the cutest girl in the world!”
“After moi , of course!” Kasumi is quick to add. “After Kasumi Nakasu, future number one idol in Japan!”
“Yes!” Yuu whips around. “Oh, I can’t wait! We’ll be there, front row. Won’t we, Ayumu?”
Shizuku laughs, and turns to find a silent Ayumu, who, far from looking upset, has tears in her eyes.
“Yes,” she says, smiling, gazing at Yuu as if her other two companions had never even been there. “We will.”
God , Shizuku says to herself. They really are so cute.
“Let’s go, Yuu,” Ayumu says, gently easing Yuu off the fountain ledge. “The team’s bus leaves for Kyoto at 6, and you’re paying for the bullet train if I don’t make it. Shizuku has to sleep too.”
“Okay! Bye, you two! Good night!” Yuu waves, leaning on Ayumu for support. “I’ll see you guys after the holidays! Let’s get a drink before class starts again!”
Shizuku and Kasumi wave back, watching the two break into instant conversation after turning around, as if they had only stopped seconds earlier to comment on the weather.
“Wow,” Kasumi says, voice hoarse. “I’ve never seen Ayumu like that—so...”
“Happy?” Shizuku says. “They grew up together. They went to the same schools, and now they live and study together. Ayumu has been in love with her the whole time, and just now Yuu realised that she feels the same. I can hardly fault her.”
Kasumi doesn’t say anything, and in fact, feels tinged by a curious melancholy—of lonely childhoods, perhaps? Unrealised and yet-to-be realised dreams; love? It’s a complex feeling, she thinks, and if only she could just think straight at the moment.
She turns to find Shizuku staring at her, and almost jumps in surprise. It is then, naturally, that she realises that they’re by themselves. On second thought , she thinks, thank goodness I’m as drunk as I am right now.
“Hey, Shizuku,” Kasumi starts, wobbling in the damp pavement, after walking for a few. “I-is it true what they say about the French? That they’re a bunch of...that they’re mean? Or...um. Or something.”
Shizuku laughs, as if having expected the question. “No. Well, maybe? It’s possible.
Parisians can be, I guess. I can see why somebody might think that if you don’t grow up there. I’ve mostly learned to ignore them if they are being mean.”
Kasumi nods, a bit exaggeratedly, and hums in acknowledgement. Her sense of time is understandably distorted, and she can’t quite measure how long their silences go for. She tries to fight off nerves by clutching to her inebriation.
“Man, I want to go!” She suddenly says, opting for confidence, “I picture it just like this. Rainy and cheesy. Stereotypical, like...” she suddenly frowns. “...like your Audrey Hepburn movies.”
“Like my Audrey Hepburn movies,” Shizuku repeats, giggling, as if measuring the weight of the words. She doesn’t quite look at Kasumi, who notices and begins to feel impatient.
It’s high time you notice me, you dumb, French, cute meanie.
“Ugh, yes, like your Audrey Hepburn movies!” She slurs, a tad bit louder than she expected. “And you’re going to take me, Shizuko! And show me around all those cheesy, romantic spots!”
“Okay, okay,” Shizuku says in a whisper, signalling Kasumi to lower her voice. Shizuko, huh? “We’ll go, and I’ll take you to every last romantic spot in Paris that has ever been worthy of the name.”
“Okay, good,” Kasumi says, pouting against her will.
“My, my, we’re feeling bossy today, aren’t we?” Shizuku says, laughing. “First you won’t let me cut my hair, now I’m your personal tour guide of Europe.”
“Well,” Kasumi protests, waving her hands in the air. She then stops and clutches her arms around her chest. Shizuku stops in front of her, bending over slightly so as to meet her face with a smile. Kasumi feels her defences, what few were there at all, crumbling. “I do really like your hair.”
“Then I won’t cut it,” Shizuku says, taking a step closer to Kasumi and waiting for her to meet her at their now minuscule distance. She drops her voice to a tone that could melt all the ice in the Arctic. “If you like it that much.”
The whisper sends chills down Kasumi’s spine, who finally reckons that it is now or never. She reaches over to take a lock of Shizuku’s hair.
“I mean, It’s just so nice and shiny,” Kasumi says, barely audible over the hoarseness of her voice. “And I always think about how nice it would feel...in my h-hands.”
Kasumi, reaching her other hand to grip Shizuku’s arm, pretends not to hear Shizuku’s gasp, tiny and delicate as it was. Now or never could not begin to describe the urgency that now propelled her, seeking like a homing missile the owner of those small lips.
She’s met with (she’s pretty sure) not lips but (now, opening her eyes, she is sure) with a small finger and with the bluest expanse of reflected light of Shizuku’s wide-open eyes. Oh no , she thinks, what did I do?
“Not when you’re this drunk, Kasumi,” Shizuku whispers, not attempting to hide a sweet sadness in her smile. “That’s not the kind of person I am, and...”
Shizuku moves her hand to caress Kasumi’s cold cheek.
“...and I want to make sure that you’ll feel the same way in the morning as well.”
Kasumi shakes her head, slowly at first. “I will. Oh yes, I will. Believe me, I will. I’m not even that—“
Shizuku starts walking away and Kasumi realises she’s been leaning on the girl the entire time. Losing her balance, she steadies herself as quickly as possible.
“Drunk?” Shizuku says, giggling again. God , Kasumi thinks, I wish she’d stop that. “Let’s get you home, Kasumi.”
As Shizuku starts walking away, Kasumi finds herself in a sudden panic.
“Shizuko, wait, please,” She starts, trying to steady her words in a futile attempt to sound sober. “You’ll leave tomorrow, for a whole week, and then...I don’t even know where you’re going for Christmas. Wait, you’re not going to France, are you? No, please, I promise. I...”
What is happening to me? Some part of Kasumi asks; the other answers that question for her as she pictures Shizuku walking away. As she pictures Rina, Ayumu, Yuu, Ai, and everybody else in the world but her, opening Shizuku’s apartment door, wearing nothing but a hoodie. Kasumi stops walking, and turns around to hide the warmest tears she’d ever cried. Not now, Kasumi! This is not the time to be a baby.
“Oh, Kasumi,” she hears Shizuku say, followed by the sound of her boots on the pavement. “Believe me.”
Then she feels arms wrap around her, seeking her hands as they yield completely to the warmth engulfing her from her back. She feels, in the nape of her exposed neck, one, two, three slow kisses (was it three? Kasumi doesn’t know. She counted to infinity in the soft moan that escaped her) being planted. And then, in that low voice:
“There is nothing I would rather do right now than to take you, just as you are,” Shizuku says. “But...”
She feels her hand being taken, leading her to face Shizuku, who gives her a smile that could have rendered all the anxieties of the world null and void.
“But you made me wait a whole semester,” Shizuku says, starting to walk, Kasumi in hand. “So I think I deserve to make you wait one more week. I’ll be back next Monday.”
Kasumi stutters a few meaningless words, sifting through her thoughts before landing on the one she cares about the most. “All semester? What? Why didn’t you give me a sign? You could have told me!”
“I did give you a sign,” Shizuku says. “But I’m typically not the one to make the first move.”
“You’re not... what ?” Kasumi tries. “Wait a second!”
Shizuku laughs again, and is thankful that her acting pedigree allows her to hold back her own tears. They’re of joy, she knows, and as she clutches onto Kasumi’s hand, breathing the cool winter air and watching their reflection through the silver of the puddled pavement, she allows herself to have at least this to herself.