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Himiko laid on the carpet in front of the fireplace, sunning herself like a lizard on a stone. There was no actual sunlight to be found, of course, seeing as it was nighttime and the curtains were drawn tight, closing them in from the outside world. It hadn’t been sunny in the daytime either, gray clouds blotting out the sky until she’d be hard pressed to envision what it looked like without them.
They were closed up inside, her and Tsumugi, with the fire crackling in the grate. Maybe she could even describe it as dancing merrily, if she was in the mood for fanciful descriptions such as that. She wasn’t, though. No humanized fire, not when she felt like all the magic had been drained out of her bones. So she just laid there, a safe distance away but close enough to feel the heat, and watched the red-orange flames.
The scent of burning wood was pleasant and homey. It reminded her of her childhood with a nostalgia that nearly made her want to weep, but in a good way. The tightness in her chest reminded her that there was a time when she was happy, and that it might yet come back someday.
She laid there with her back to the table, still enough that perhaps Tsumugi would mistake her as having dozed off. Conversation was difficult sometimes.
Tsumugi was focused on her sewing anyway. There weren’t really cons to go to anymore, and supplies were scarce enough that they shouldn’t be wasted on anything too impractical, but she managed to keep up with her cosplay habit anyway, making outfits that could easily double as regular clothes. It was easier to justify, that way. A lot of them were pretty cute, so Himiko didn’t mind wearing them.
Whenever she modeled something for her, walking up and down the short expanse of their hallway, Tsumugi always squealed and applauded, like she was the cutest thing she’d ever seen. It felt a little fake sometimes, but then again, lots of things about Tsumugi did. Himiko had gotten used to it, brushed it off as a side-effect of how unremarkable she usually was.
“I could get used to this, couldn’t you?” The question jolted Himiko out of her thoughts, Tsumugi’s voice cutting through the hazy silence that had settled over the room. She frowned, watching the sparks fly in the fireplace and chewing at a bit of dead skin on her lip.
“I guess,” she replied, making no effort to change the monotone delivery of it. “It’s a pain to think of the other possibilities too much, what we could be doing right now if the world wasn’t like this.” Then, with a faint snort of amusement, she added, “Akamatsu would be proud of you for being so optimistic.”
Tsumugi giggled, and although Himiko listened hard, she didn’t hear any anger or hurt hidden within it. Maybe it was okay then, to mention Kaede like that. Tsumugi had had a crush on her, back when they were all classmates attending school together. As with almost everyone else, they didn’t know whether she was dead or alive, or if they’d ever see her again.
(Sometimes, in her ugliest, most afraid moments, she hoped that Kaede was dead, just because she was scared that if they ever found her, Tsumugi would leave. Himiko knew that wouldn’t happen, logically. Three people weren’t that much harder to provide for than two, and Kaede loved everyone in their class. Sure, Himiko would be the third wheel, but she wouldn’t be abandoned. Still, sometimes the more primitive part of her brain hoped.)
“I guess you’re right,” Tsumugi remarked. “But it seems like the least plain old me can do. We have to make the best of things and try our hardest until we reunite with everyone.” Himiko was still turned away, but she could imagine her pumping her fist in the air, probably still holding a threaded needle.
“Do you really believe that’ll happen?” she asked around a yawn. The air chilled, despite the flames being as lively as ever.
“I hope so. Either way, we’ve come this far. So we can’t give up now, right?”
“Right.” She rolled over onto her back, staring up at the ceiling instead. Her movement had stirred up some dust from the carpet. It tickled her nose, but a sneeze never came. Such a boring, ordinary moment. Proof that she was still alive.