Work Text:
The thunder struck so loudly that Nazuna bolted awake, eyes blown wide and chest heaving.
She searched the room quickly, looking for anything out of place. Dresser, desk, shelves with pictures and accomplishments—it’s all there. Just like it should.
Foolishly she reminds herself that it was crazy to think so otherwise, she’d been living in Animacity for a good few months now. This is the same room that the co-op had generously offered her all that time ago, she’s not sure why she thought it would be different.
She forced a few slow breaths, wiping away some tears.
Nightmares were, of course, nothing new to her. They’re always the same; either Boris or Alan; either hurting her or someone she cares about. (Usually Michiru.)
Hopelessly she wondered if they would ever go away. Of course, she’d gone to counceling a few times, but that was mostly to make sure she wouldn’t try such a stupid stunt again.
Because, pretending to be the Silver Wolf… what a stupid stunt that was indeed.
She gripped her head harshly, yanking a little at her hair. It hurt, and it grounded her.
“Stupid,” Nazuna scolded herself, “stupid girl.”
She looked to the side, catching sight of the picture on her nightstand. It was of Michiru and herself, just after an intense karaoke session a few weeks ago. Both their cheeks were flushed, and Michiru was sticking up both her thumbs. Nazuna wasn’t looking at the camera, instead focused entirely on her best friend.
Her best friend, who she only just got back, but who surely hated her. Michiru may not naturally be a hateful person, but Michiru wasn’t stupid. She did stupid things, yes, but she wasn’t stupid.
She dropped her hands, letting out one painful sob.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered to unhearing ears.
The alarm clock directly next to the framed picture read 03:46. Good, nobody would be awake.
She swung her feet off of the bed, sighing heavily. She sighed the way Shirou does, tired and worn out. At first, it was a funny realisation. They really did have more in common than they thought! But, guilt replaced that much more easily.
It was selfish to compare herself to Shirou. Shirou, who offered their life to all the fallen beastmen over a thousand years ago. Shirou, who was so hurt by her actions that they ended up hurting Michiru.
Shirou. The actual Silver Wolf, entirely deserving of all good things.
Her feet padded softly against the floor as she made her way to the kitchen.
Unlike Michiru’s room or Shirou’s room (which is also their office), her room was directly next to the living room. Melissa and Gem slept on the other side of the floor. But, Gem was dead to the world until the clock hit five in the morning, and Melissa could sleep until the sun was well and truly up, undisturbed by noise despite having the hearing of a dog.
She put on the coffee pot, staring idly into the machine. Sometimes, she wishes she could drown herself in coffee, or coffee beans. Or water, or dirt, or—
“Why are you making coffee at such an hour?”
The voice cut through her thoughts sharply, making her yelp in surprise and spin around.
“Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “Couldn’t sleep.”
A lie. She could sleep perfectly well, actually. But she didn’t dare to, like the coward she was. Every time she closed her eyes, an image would flash before her eyes. Images that dragged up a lot of emotions she spent so much care into repressing.
Shirou grunted in response, after eyeing her carefully. “Alright,” they accepted the half-assed lie.
Nazuna liked that about Shirou. They didn’t ask too many questions, didn’t try to understand her like Michiru does.
Of course there are flaws to that, since it kept them from letting her anywhere in his life until Michiru convinced them to. But, in moments like these, where her heart was beating too loud and too hard to the point that she was scared they could hear, and her eyes were sore from crying, she was glad that they were so closed-off.
The silence stretched on, and usually Nazuna is great at putting up a front, able to make a conversation flow even with Shirou, but tonight her mouth was clamped shut, looking anywhere but directly in Shirou’s eyes.
“Michiru has melatonin pills,” Shirou mentions off-handedly, as they grab two mugs from the cupboards and some sugar. (The biggest surprise about them had to have been that they liked their coffee with sugar, Nazuna thought.)
Nazuna almost laughed at that. Shirou is the worst at sleeping, insomnia would have killed them already had they not been immortal. They’re even dressed in their usual shirt and trousers, clearly not even having tried to sleep. Why were they suggesting that to her?
“You should take some, then,” she playfully bit back, but her voice cracked towards the end and the raspiness in her voice betrayed the emotions swirling inside of her.
“They don’t seem to work on me,” Shirou rolled their eyes, taking the coffee pot once it was done brewing.
They poured both a cup for themself and Nazuna, handing her a mug with her own name printed on it.
Despite her stupid stunt, she managed to keep some support from fans and gain sympathy when the truth about Alan and Boris had been revealed, letting her keep her career as a pop star. Michiru had gifted her a custom designed mug for her as a present after her first official non-Silver Wolf concert.
Right now, she wants to throw the stupid mug against the wall as hard as she can and watch it shatter all over the floor. Maybe, a shard will fly towards her and stab her somewhere fatal.
“They don’t work for me either,” she said quietly, idly sipping the bitter substance.
When it was an hour as late (or early, depending how one looked at it,) as this, she would usually take some milk with it. Mainly so that she wouldn’t be bouncing and shaking throughout the remainder of the night, but now the horrible taste served as a distraction she was willing to suffer for.
“So, melatonin doesn’t work for gods, huh,” they off-handedly continued, probably meant as a light-hearted joke. They glanced up at her. They watched her swallow, and sighed. “Kid, you can relax. I’m not angry about it anymore.”
Nazuna frowned. That was way too honest, and absolutely not what she wanted to hear. Her heart was doing that thing again, when it would beat too hard and too loud. She was sure everyone in Animacity could hear. Certainly Shirou could.
“Why?” She finally settled with. “Why aren’t you angry anymore…? I- I basically ruined this city, I betrayed everyone, including Michiru, I said awful things! I… I pretended to be you…”
What was she if not a problem, she often wondered. What was she, if not a burden, someone to use, a temporary fix.
“I guess… you remind me of myself,” they sighed. Then, in a warning tone, said: “You’re not gonna like this.”
She shook her head, what does it matter if I like it or not?
“You’re too hard on yourself. You made mistakes… and you regret it,” they explained, but ended it with a shrug. “If mayor Rose, or Michiru, or you, or… any of the beastmen today, hadn’t forgiven me, I… well, I suppose… I still struggle with that. But at least I’m working on it.”
“Yeah, but, you’re actually the Silver Wolf,” Nazuna scoffed. “I’m just some human girl… I’m only here because you pity me, and soon you’ll see I still haven’t changed, and I’ll just get sent away. And honestly, at this point I want it to happen sooner than later, because then I can rot away without someone thinking I’m still—still worth it! ”
She stared out in front of her, eyes blown wide. She blinked a few times, eyebrows knitting together.
Shirou probably thought she was crazy, and she’d put it all out there now too, but would they still lie? Would she finally be put out of her misery? How selfish to hope for that, really.
How selfish, but there was no selfless way out of it. Either she kept living off all of their pity, or she would be rid of it. It was going to kill her alive.
Shirou stepped closer to her, crouched down to her eye level. “The old you would not have said that. You do realise that, right?”
They were wiping away a tear she had felt pricking her eyes but hadn’t realised had already fallen. She certainly understood why Michiru had dubbed them her unofficial father. “Sorry.”
“Look, kid,” they continued, patting her head as they straightened out, “I’ve already forgiven you. I’ve been around you for months. Around the real you, that is. And I can honestly say you’re a great addition to… whatever this place is.”
A great addition to your family, she internally realised, but she didn’t dare to say it out loud. The words would be too good to be true.
“And… you make Michiru happy,” they finalised. “I know you two have a… close relationship. I have my reasons to keep you two in separate rooms.”
She went bright red, the blush spreading to the tips of her ears and into her neck. They chuckled at the reaction, but then turned away again to finish their coffee.
“We’re not—I mean, Michiru doesn’t like me like that,” Nazuna rushed out in explanation, and even she heard how weak that sounded when there was literally everything about them to base that on, sinking in on herself. “I mean, I’m not saying that I don’t—I mean, I—well, she is Michiru, and I like her, but she doesn’t like—it’s not like that—!”
“Sure.”
Nazuna opened her mouth to argue, but decided against it. Whether Michiru liked her like that didn’t really matter anyway. Nazuna doesn’t see what there’s to like about herself, but if by some miracle chance Michiru isn’t entirely disgusted by her, then Nazuna would never let Michiru stoop down to Nazuna’s level.
They live in different worlds, it has been that way for almost two years. Nazuna may not like it, may not even accept it, but she can at least tolerate the truth.
“Shirou, please,” she begged, after a moment of contemplating. “I just want to know… I mean, when we first met, you hated me, how can that have changed? How did I earn your trust?”
They thought about it for a moment, which Nazuna appreciated even if it made her nervous too.
“I told you, you remind me of myself,” they answered. “You had a nightmare, right?” When she didn’t respond, they hummed. “You don’t have to like yourself, Nazuna. Just put up with yourself long enough not to break Michiru’s heart.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment. She walked over to the window, next to Shirou.
It was dark out, just as it usually is at this hour. There are the usual lights illuminating the city, but all the windows are dark.
“You sound like you have experience.”
She didn’t mean to sound so blunt about it, but she had genuinely thought that they had gotten more support than that they were letting on now throughout the years.
“I do. I have put up with myself for centuries.” Shirou placed their empty mug on the table, before running a hand through their hair tiredly. “I mess up all the time, but I have been forgiven by the people that matter.”
“Do you think Michiru has forgiven me?” she tentatively asked. But as the words are leaving her mouth, she realised she doesn’t really want to know the answer.
“Knowing her, she probably forgave you long before you deserved it,” they sighed. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it now. I think you should talk with her anyway. Properly. Give yourself the peace of mind and let yourself be forgiven.”
It was entirely silent as Nazuna contemplated their words. She was thankful, really, that they had no filter. They could be blunt and honest and didn’t skip around the bush (usually).
“Now, go back to bed, and play some video games or whatever it is you like to do,” Shirou half-heartedly scolded, raising an eyebrow at her before grabbing both mugs and putting them in the sink.
“Okay, Dad, ” she laughed, pretending not to notice their eyes widening and a small, fond smile replacing their usual frown. “You should try and sleep too. We need our dog to get the post in the morning, after all.”
By the time Shirou had processed what she said, she’d already sneaked back into her room.
From the other side of the door, she heard them groan exasperatedly.
“Nazuna!”
Nazuna blinks away the remnants of sleep trying to lull her back into unconsciousness, recognising the voice calling her even if she vaguely misplaced it as home itself.
“Nazuna, c’mon, you have to at least try to keep a decent sleeping schedule,” the voice groaned.
Soon after that, there was a loud rattling noise, and then her blankets were thrown off of her, leaving her unprepared and blind as sunlight filtered through her open windows directly into her eyes.
“Ugh, Michiru, it’s too early for this…”
“It’s one in the afternoon already!” Michiru laughed. “C’mon, Melissa asked us to get groceries! She wants to teach me how to make some kind of Italian dish.”
“Why does that plan include me, then,” she asked rhetorically.
Of course, Michiru, in all her sincerity, answered without giving it a second thought: “Because she said she wants to teach both her cousins—like, okay, she said something… else, but—“
Nazuna cracked her eyes open properly, seeing the blush high on Michiru’s cheek bones. That caught her attention.
“What exactly did she say?” She raised an eyebrow, flopping back onto her bed.
“Ah! Well, g- girlfriends, but she was just teasing me!” Michiru stutters out, and forced a nervous laugh out of her throat. “Melissa is funny like that sometimes, y’know?”
Nazuna rolled her eyes. “Sure.”
Apparently, all parental figures in their lives felt the need to butt into their love life. Maybe, if only just to disperse the teasing, she’d date Michiru. Only for that reason, obviously. Except, of course, she would never, that’s just completely ridiculous to even consider.
“Just—get ready,” Michiru groaned, throwing a shirt that had been lying on the floor in her face. “Shirou said you had to come along because I’m bad at managing money.”
Nazuna sighed. “Suppose I cannot argue with that.”
“Hey!”
Nazuna was outside the co-op with Michiru only twenty minutes later. In those twenty minutes, she dragged herself out of bed and put on Michiru’s hoodie which Michiru for some reason refused to take back.
She didn’t mind too much. The smell was comforting, as if Michiru were constantly hugging her.
Michiru looked at her skeptically. “What?”
“Hmm?”
Nazuna had been distracted, repeating Michiru constantly hugging me in her head. She’d like that life.
“You’re blushing,” Michiru pointed out, narrowing her eyes. “Oooh, were you thinking about someone special?”
Nazuna didn’t have time to focus on the prominent disappointment in her voice, so she decided to change the subject. “Don’t be stupid, Michiru. Now let’s get coffee, I’m gonna fall asleep again while standing.”
“Okay Mrs Sleepyhead,” Michiru declared, grinning widely. “Let’s go get some coffee in you!”
Michiru grabbed onto the sleeve of her hoodie as she jumped ahead, ever so energetic, and pulled her along the street.
And then, once Nazuna had a large cup of coffee and Michiru had a smoothie, they walked to the park, as she sighed contently at the familiar bitter smell. Despite the nice weather and time of day, the park was fairly empty.
“Ah,” Michiru sighed, sipping loudly through her straw. “This is the life.”
Nazuna snorted. “There’s a little more to life than smoothies.”
Michiru startled, and looked at Nazuna as if she had grown a second head. “Well, yeah, duh! I meant, sitting here with you.”
Nazuna swallowed. Of course Michiru would say something like that. She always said stuff like that to throw her off, but the worst part was she always was thrown off. Letting Nazuna believe that maybe, if she let Michiru, maybe something would happen.
Her heart sped up, but she mostly decided to ignore the blush set on her cheeks that spread out all the way to her ears and neck. Now she just hoped Michiru was ignoring that too.
“Yeah,” Nazuna whispered, looking away quickly. She cleared her throat. “Anyway, um, what… what do we need to get from the store again?”
Alas, reality was ever something she had to come to terms with. She couldn’t let Michiru do that to herself. Michiru deserved better than her. Better than someone who hurt her and everyone she loves.
She indulged the fantasy sometimes, in private when she figured there was no way a mind reader would be able to hear her thoughts, but talking to her reminded Nazuna that Michiru deserved so much better than what she had to offer.
Michiru, in all her obliviousness and prettiness and—endearingly enough—sweatiness from jogging, sat not so still, her leg bouncing up and down and slurping, because she knows Nazuna will tell her to stop. Michiru who, frustratingly so, refuses to look away.
Sluuurp. “Pasta, meatballs, and tomatoes. Maybe we can get some wine!”
“They’d never allow that.”
“We’re adults now! We can buy alcohol if we want,” Michiru whined, pouting a little. “Even Shirou couldn’t argue that.”
Nazuna finished her coffee, letting the heat burn her tongue. She stood up and threw the empty paper cup away, before walking back to Michiru and holding her hand out to take, and pulled Michiru up.
The butterflies in her stomach loved that Michiru was staring at her with those puppy eyes—literally, she had morphed her eyes—but there was no time to dwell on it. Or better said, no need.
Nothing is ever going to happen, she reminded herself. I can’t do that to Michiru.
They walked to the grocery shop without much more trouble. Michiru mostly rambled about some new interest, which Nazuna gladly listened to. And then she was talking about a new workout she’d started, together with the new protein shake flavours, which they absolutely had to get because otherwise Michiru would explode with curiosity. And it’s not as if Nazuna would have said no, even without the excessive whining and cuteifying her features, because how could she ever? This was Michiru, she’d do anything for her.
Except let Michiru do what she knew Michiru wanted, maybe most of all, because that would mean letting Michiru in on this shitshow in her head, and she wouldn’t want to burden anyone with that.
There were a few people here and there who whispered when they saw them. “Look, it’s Nazuna, that singer!” “Those two girls stopped Nirvasyl, right?”
The worst one was “Wow, that’s Michiru!” and then their friend replied, “Don’t say anything. That Nazuna is with her. Stay on this side of the street.”
Why… why did that hurt? Well, she knew why. Michiru deserved all the greatness in the world, Nazuna did not. This was a simple fact, but perhaps hearing others say it so plainly… so easily…
Michiru turned to her, eyes crinkly and mouth wide with whatever she was about to say, but she clamped it shut. A frown replaced her wide smile, which hurt so much worse than the words of strangers putting new chains around her heart. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
Michiru raised her hand. Nazuna didn’t need to repress the flinch around her anymore, but she twitched an eye out of old habit. Michiru swallowed, brushing away—a tear.
“Oh,” Nazuna said simply.
She hadn’t known she was crying. That had happened for the second time in twenty four hours now. She was starting to see a pattern.
“Nazuna,” she levelled with her, speaking clearly. “What happened? Are you okay? Do we need to go back? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have forced you to come with me, I thought it would be fun, but—“
“I’m okay!” Nazuna interjected. The chains around her heart tightened, squeezing too hard. “I’m okay—nothing happened. Sorry.” That’s not enough.
“You don’t need to apologise,” she said determinedly. She gazed at Nazuna a second too long, but still didn’t look away. “Let’s go back. We’ll make that Italian dish some other time, Melissa won’t mind, come on.”
She reached for Nazuna’s hand again, but Nazuna yanked it away before they had even made contact. Michiru’s eyes widened, and Nazuna saw Michiru keeping in a wave of panic and hurt.
“Nazuna…?”
“I mean it,” she said—or whimpered, but she really didn’t want to admit how pathetic that would be. “I’m sorry, Michiru. I didn’t mean to—I know that you just wanted to—“
She could barely speak, the weeks of repressing all her emotions finally breaking her.
“Nazuna, please.” Michiru carefully reached her hands out to grab her shoulders, this time Nazuna didn’t back away. “I’m not mad. I’m just scared right now, you’re scaring me. You clearly aren’t okay, so let’s go back, alright?”
Nazuna sobbed, wiping furiously at her eyes while shaking her head. “No, wait— Michiru!” She snapped, even though it sounded weak because of her shaky voice.
Michiru stilled, finally taking a moment to take in the fact that Nazuna was not going anywhere until she’d finished. Nazuna had to do this. She couldn’t—she couldn’t back out now. If nothing else, Michiru deserved this from her, at least.
“I’m sorry for—for everything. You deserve a better—a better friend! You shouldn’t have to worry about me. I’m sorry for hurting you, and I’m sorry for causing you so much trouble, and I’m sorry for abandoning you, and I’m sorry for letting you think you were wrong. I’m just—I’m so sorry.”
She dropped her hands, tears falling too fast to wipe away. It was hopeless. Michiru finally knew what was going on in her head, and she would leave. Nazuna knew it was coming, because she knew she deserved it and Michiel knew it and hell, the whole world knew it.
And Michiru was going to call her out for all her bullshit, finally, and leave. Because she deserved better, and now she knew she didn’t have to pretend anymore and—and it hurt so much more than Nazuna expected.
The chains around her heart shattered, but they impaled her heart and wounded her. The chains had been removed, she was released, she’d let it all out—but now she almost regretted it. She almost took it back, almost begged Michiru not to leave.
Almost.
Except, as she could have and should have predicted, Michiru didn’t do that. Michiru is too kind, has too big of a heart and cares too much.
Michiru took Nazuna’s hands, and held them to her chest.
Nazuna dared look up into her eyes, but regretted it immediately. Michiru was crying too. She was so nice—too nice. Nazuna worried about that so much.
“Nazuna,” she whispered, “no. I’m sorry you feel that way… I had no idea you were carrying all this inside of you.”
For absolutely irrational reasons, that annoyed Nazuna.
“Can you stop that?!” She flared up. She clenched her hands, nails digging into her palms. “Stop! Stop trying to convince yourself that I don’t deserve all this shit. You of all people should know!” She took a shuddering breath. The tears finally stopped in their never-ending flow, and she wiped them away with finality. “You deserve better than me. Please—please, can’t you just accept that? Can’t you admit that to yourself? I’m hurting you. I’m hurting the people you care about. Everyone knows it.”
Michiru frowned, but now her eyebrows were drawn tight with her own anger.
“Don’t try and decide what I should feel, or how I should feel. Weren’t you the one who told me that?” Nazuna flinched. Probably one of the worst fights of her life, and they were in the exact same place having another fight, but this one was so much worse. “Then don’t be a hypocrite! Whether you like it or not, I do care about you. I know you feel guilty, and you try to be better everyday. I can see that. I wouldn’t do all this if I didn’t. And everyone else knows too! People who say you don’t just don’t know you. That’s okay, not everyone will like you. But can you please accept and admit to yourself that I like you? That I care about you? That Shirou, Melissa, Gem, Jackie—countless others—they all care about you. It would be selfish if you let us all put the blame on yourself and lock yourself away. That would be the easy way out. And I know, the great Nazuna Hiwatashi, she is better than that, she knows better than that.”
Nazuna rubbed her nose. She wasn’t crying. But now it was taking everything in her not to.
She didn’t believe it. Not fully. Not yet, at least. But… Michiru is also right. The easy way out is selfish. She couldn’t do that now.
“Nazuna, please,” Michiru said, but it held a form of finality. Nazuna’s reaction to this, right here and now, would determine their relationship forever. “Let’s just go home.”
But Nazuna could never say no to this girl. She’s long ago accepted that she would do anything for her. And she had to admit that the ring of ‘home’ in her ears always sounded pleasant, especially when Michiru said it.
“Okay,” she relented, nodding.
Michiru smiled weakly at her. She opened her arms, and Nazuna dived into them.
Being hugged by Michiru forever, she thought. That’s something I can get used to.
Another part of her whispered she didn’t have to get used to it. Michiru had already let her know she was ready to hold her forever. Nazuna was okay with that.