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Nejire’s stomach flips when the familiar face sitting at the table looks up and waves her over. Even though it’s been weeks, maybe even months, she can’t get rid of that excitement, the pounding in her chest and the rush of happiness. It’s like tiptoeing on clouds in her kitten heels.
She smiles, all teeth and bright blue eyes, and squeezes past the tightly packed tables with barely an apology (her attention is always divided, so the last things on her mind are the scowls and clattering teacups). By the time she’s plopped herself down in a seat and taken off the gigantic sun hat like a halo in the sky, there’s a straight line of disturbance all the way from the door to their table.
“Hey!” Nejire says breathlessly, eyes on Yuyu and Yuyu only, and sets her purse on her lap. “Hey! It’s been so long since we’ve been able to do this. You should’ve asked me sooner!”
Yuyu glances to the side with an apologetic smile, then rests her elbows on the table, eyes full of fire. “In my defence, we were both busy! I’m exhausted, but look at you—fresh as a daisy! Like a little, porcelain doll.”
She beams. “You think so? It’s a new serum I was recommended! What do you think, huh? Does it make my skin look brighter or paler?”
“Brighter, definitely.”
Now that the initial excitement is wearing thin, Nejire relaxes and crosses her feet at the ankle. Yuyu has the uncanny ability to calm her down when she bounces too quickly, and she’s thankful for it. It finally allows her to look at the mess she created and bite gently on her lower lip.
“I was rude, wasn’t I?”
“Just a little.” She’s grinning now, and reaches over the table to take one of Nejire’s hands. Unlike her own nails—perfect to every cuticle—Yuyu’s are bitten and uneven. “You got excited.”
“I did,” she agrees, because how can she not? Yuyu is her best friend, her pillar of support and biggest fan, but here they are, leading two separate lives. She misses her more every day. She squeezes her hand as a waitress in a lace dress appears with two cups of tea, cream, sugar, and an abundance of little cupcakes on a plate. Nejire’s eyes light up, and Yuyu snorts.
“I figured you deserve something nice after those weeks of hard work. Don’t eat too many, or you’ll be sick.”
“Never,” Nejire laughs airily, using her free hand to disperse the contents of the tray between them and stir her tea. The tearoom is quaint, but in a beautiful way. Quiet, peaceful, and though it’s squashed and always full, there’s a charm about it that leaves Nejire feeling bubbly and bright. All good places leave her that way.
“So, what’s your plan for the future?” Yuyu asks suddenly, adding three sugar cubes to her tea and stirring roughly, droplets splashing into the saucer. “I know it’s been a while since we graduated, but word on the street tells me you’ve had modelling offers.”
“I have! Exciting, isn’t it? But I don’t know if I’ll accept.”
Yuyu hesitates. “Really? How come?”
“Well—”
And there’s the question she can’t quite answer. She’s worked hard all her life to pursue a career in heroics—it’s always been her dream—but then everything else happened in between. Modelling and fashion were hobbies for a little extra money on the side, but now it’s an ultimatum: continue heroics or a full-time career being beautiful.
Nejire sighs. “They don’t want to compromise or share me. They think I’ll get scratched and won’t be fresh-faced enough to model.”
“Wow, what assholes.” The furrow in Yuyu’s brow deepens. The piercing hooked through her left eyebrow accentuates the angle nearly perpendicularly, and Nejire giggles. “But aren’t there other heroes that went into modelling? Uh—Midnight, for example? Mount Lady?”
She shakes her head. “It’s usually either one or the other, with exceptions for things that don’t need a pretty face, you know? It’s upsetting.”
“I can tell.” Yuyu drums her fingers on the tabletop, and takes another sip of her tea. “Take your time deciding and don’t let them make the decision for you, okay? You can’t rush this stuff.”
“I won’t! I promise,” Nejire says, but she knows she can’t. Outside influence will be needed to make a decision, but she can see to that later. She pushes her worries into a bite of a strawberry cheesecake cupcake instead.
“Mm! But, what about you?” She asks after a mouthful, heels tapping on the ground. “Hero or photographer?”
Yuyu beams. “Both! I’ve actually set up a contract with my Hero Agency to photograph and record the daily lives of heroes. Something about PR and promotion.”
“That’s amazing! You’re so cool.”
They grin at each other. Nejire knows Yuyu as well as Yuyu knows herself, and whatever she photographs or records will make a statement, whether it be about pay or the Government’s focus on heroes and villains. She never did things without making one; it’s both her worst and best quality. In Nejire’s opinion, it’s her best by far.
“I wish we could work together again.” Nejire’s next sigh comes wistfully, trawling through the remnants of daydreams of when they were still in class, preparing for the future. She misses those days, and she misses the normalcy, the routine of school. No one could have prepared them for how erratic graduation would be.
“Me too!” Yuyu squeezes her hand tighter and, playfully, lifts her hand to kiss the back of it. “I miss working with cuties! You’re the cutest of them all.”
Nejire huffs a laugh. She misses that too: Yuyu’s never ending compliments and the way she always, always picks her up and makes her feel new again. Now that they aren’t around each other every day—don’t have neighbouring dorms or classes where they sit together—her lack of presence hurts. Here, in this tearoom, is a breath of fresh air.
“And you’re gorgeous,” Nejire tells her earnestly, heels tapping again. She chooses another cupcake. “Don’t compliment me without complimenting yourself!”
Yuyu giggles and accepts the half of cupcake that Nejire offers to her, chocolate with caramel icing, the same brandy wine colour as her eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“You know,” Nejire hums, letting Yuyu pull her into her side as they dodge the rain falling in sheets across the street. “Maybe I’ll go to University instead.”
“University?”
Yuyu peeks at her from beneath a soggy newspaper she picked up from a stand, and Nejire wishes she could offer her a parasol or the rim of her hat. She has nothing but the crook of her arm as they skim the hangovers of shops and lips of buildings to hide from the rain. Yuyu’s hair is beginning to curl and frizz, and Nejire’s own is not much better.
“It gives me more time to decide!” She sidesteps a puddle, then pushes Yuyu underneath the shelter of an antique bookstore decorated in bright red and gold. “Don’t you think? I’ll do something no one expects.”
Yuyu shrugs, but she’s grinning now; mischievous, a glint that Nejire’s been told many times she’s picked up from her. “Go for it! That would give you a backup plan, at least. Photography is totally too hands-on to get a degree in.”
“A shame!”
“A shame depending on how your financial situation looks.” Her dryness makes Nejire giggle. It’s too easy to forget how much she’s missed these things—these little comments and quips—and, with Yuyu, it’s just as easy to remember them. “Hell, you don’t even have to stick to Japan! You can go to America or England. Or France!”
“France?”
“France.”
Yuyu beckons her closer and points through the raindrops on the glass of the shop. The place is crammed from floor to ceiling, and it just so happens that the bookcase in front of them is Countries of the World . There, in the ‘F’ section, are half a dozen books labelled France and Fashion, France and European Clothing Through the Years, and so on. Nejire’s eyebrows raise.
“Huh. Huh!” She decides to pursue her curiosity and opens the door to the bookshop, smiling at the little tinkle of the bell and taking a book on the Louvre straight off the shelf. “Think this could be for me? Fashion! I can study fashion and intern with some French heroes. Exciting, right? Right?”
Nejire looks up at Yuyu, beaming, but then it falters. Yuyu’s eyes are sad and, though she’s smiling too, it’s not as confident as before. Nejire often overlooks expressions and emotions (sometimes by accident, sometimes not), but this time is different.
She replaces the book before taking Yuyu’s hands in her own. “Hey, don’t look sad! I’ll come back and visit you!”
“Hm? Oh, don’t worry about me. Do what you want! It’s your life.”
“But you’re my best friend,” Nejire presses, swinging their hands like they’re swaying in a gentle breeze. “And I won’t forget you. I’ll call you every night, and we can have lunch dates over the phone!”
Yuyu snorts and places a kiss on her forehead. “God, you’re the cutest! You better keep that promise if you go.”
“I will!” Nejire says with purposeful intent and reaches by her to pick out another book. “I’ll have to learn French quickly. I know English, but they don’t speak English there, do they?”
“Uh.” Yuyu makes a face. “There’s gotta be someone who speaks English. You can learn.”
Nejire’s enthusiasm returns full force, smile as bright as the sun. “You can help me research when you’re free! That way, it’s like you’re coming with me.”
“I’ll be with you in spirit,” Yuyu laughs and takes the books that Nejire hands her on fashion, food, and tourist exhibits. “At this point, there’s no separating us.”
“Of course not!” Nejire puts one more book in her arms and leans on them to look her in the eye, ecstatic. “We’re like two peas in a pod. You’re my best friend. That will never change!”
“Two peas in a pod.” Yuyu clicks her tongue, then nods. “I like it. It’s like we’re stuck together forever.”
“I should hope so.”
Even if Nejire goes to France, there’s no way she wouldn’t come back to visit or pay every penny of a loan to fly Yuyu over. Each friendship forged in the hero course is moulded from steel and iron, a bond that can never be broken, and will stay inextricably linked until the end of their days.