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It’s dark by the time she arrives back at the dorms.
Class B had needed more help. Her teacher had wanted her help with some documents. All she could do was smile and help them, try to enjoy these familiar things for as long as she could, as much as she could.
She wouldn’t miss the tiredness that she felt now. But she’d miss opening her door to a not empty room.
Nana had forgotten how much loneliness could fill an empty room. She didn’t want to remember.
“Nana.” Junna smiles, shuts the book, and rests it on her lap. “You’re back.”
She smiles back, drops her bag by the door. She’s too tired to care, pulls away the band that held her hair in a low ponytail. “Does Junna-chan have any medicine for headaches?”
“I have some.” Junna grabs her bag as Nana gets rid of her jacket and skirt, putting on her sweatpants. “Are you… okay?”
“Nothing to worry about!” She can still manage a smile. Her head hurt but she could handle it, it was nothing to worry. She’d had worse, headaches and everything. She didn’t need to make Junna worry.
Junna doesn’t seem to believe her, but she does give Nana a water bottle and the pill in her hand. Nana pops it in her mouth and drinks, only now realizing how dry her throat was. Junna takes care of her bow, sliding it away gently and opening the buttons of her shirt.
Nana doesn’t move her away. Even as Junna’s hands ghost over her upper body until they reach her shoulders, sliding her warm palms under her shirt.
They remain there.
Her hands are gentle. They don’t move, rest against Nana’s skin. Waiting for permission, Nana wonders. After all they passed and Junna still would ask for for permission over something as small as this.
“Hey.” Junna has a small smile. Nana smiles back.
“Hey, Junna-chan.
She nods her head. Junna slides her button-down off, hands trailing down Nana’s arms and placing it on the chair next to them.
“Someone is tired.”
“Maybe.”
“Did you eat anything?”
“I had a muffin with me. I’ll eat later, too. It’s my turn to help Mahiru-chan with dinner tonight.”
“I can do that.” Junna leans down, grabs the shirt Nana is gripping in her hand, pulls it over Nana’s head. “While you should rest. I came home earlier, so I can handle tonight.”
“But it’s my turn-!” Nana pulls her shirt down, sighing in relief when she pulls her bra off from underneath and throws it behind her. “It’s my turn. I’m okay, I swear-”
“Nana.” Her voice isn’t questioning. It’s final. It’s a voice Nana has heard far too many times.
“I can do it.”
“I know. But you’re tired. You should rest. We talked about this.”
They had. About helping each other. About letting each other take care of things the other couldn’t do. It was the first real thing they’d ever said to each other.
It makes Nana laugh. She raises a hand and digs her fingers in her eyes, rubs them until she sees red dots.
When she opens them, it takes a moment for her to focus on Junna’s face.
“Okay…” She nods her head. “Okay. Junna-chan can take care of my work. It seems this banana is lacking potassium tonight.”
Junna laughs at that, a small laugh before she sits down again. Nana keeps standing up, before shaking her head and going to her table. Everything is nearly bare. She pauses when she makes to take her special bookmarks, halting her hand in the air when she remembers they were-
“You put them away yesterday,” Junna speaks from the bed while still reading. “Nana, are you sure you’re okay?”
Nana sighs. Her head felt heavy- as if someone was strangling her brain inside. Maybe it was from dehydration, or lack of sleep or any other reason Nana was too not in the mood to think of.
“I-” She turns to Junna, leans her forehead on her hand. “-Might be kind of tired.”
“That isn’t news,” mutters Junna, before closing her book again. “I could notice. You took my shirt instead of yours.”
Nana looks down. It wasn’t her shirt. It was a grey Seisho hoodie that had a familiar scent that definitely wasn’t hers.
“Oh.” Nana blinks. “Maybe I am more than just a little tired.”
Junna nods her head. “You are.”
“Junna-chan knew, didn’t she?”
“I could. But I’m glad you realized yourself, too.”
Nana pulls her bangs up with her hand, keeps them tangled between her fingers to look at Junna better. “Can I ask of something?”
Junna is warm. Junna is smiling, her head tilted to the side when she nods.
Nana can be selfish for one last time, can’t she? Her head hurts, everything is changing so fast and she just-
She just wants to rest.
For one more moment.
.
..
…
….
It doesn’t take long for them to find a comfortable position.
It’s one that Nana has never found herself in, one that neither of them ever took.
Whenever they’d be on bed together, they’d be sitting side by side. Sometimes Nana would lay on top of the covers as Junna fell asleep under them. Sometimes they’d lean their heads there as they sat on the ground.
But now Junna’s arm was under the pillow. Now Nana’s head rested on Junna’s sole pillow.
She’d never felt as big as she felt now, and never had she felt so small. Junna’s other arm was thrown over her body, her palm resting on Nana’s back. Nana had never been in this position, but neither had Junna.
It was okay. It was okay for now.
“Are you comfortable?” Junna hums as a reply, settling better against the pillow. It feels weird to not be able to face her. “Is Nana comfortable too?”
“Yeah.” Nana closes her eyes, finding a comfortable position for her arm between their bodies as her other fell on behind Junna, wrapped loosely around her.
Silence surrounds them. They’d done more than this. Had been closer than this. But silence always made things heavier, always made everything have more meaning.
She felt comfortable, still. After what they’d passed, silence was the least uncomfortable thing she and Junna could experience. They had months without being this close but-
But it felt nice. To be this way. To have Junna this close to her. To be this close with someone.
Nana lets her eyes fall shut, lets her brain think.
A lot had happened. More than a teenager had to go through. But didn’t everyone go through the ordeal of growing up? Was everyone as afraid and yet sure as Nana was?
Was growing up this contradictory? Did she have to feel so sure that she’d find a way to stand upon her ideal stage no matter what, and yet so afraid of every step she took towards that?
Her head hurt. Her thoughts probably weren’t helping.
.
..
...
Nana always thought she’d be the one to control when their stage ended, the one cruel enough to have the power to make that choice.
She never thought Junna would flip the script on her, make Nana nothing but an actress in their own stage.
That was the thing, Nana learned. As soon as another was involved, your stage stopped being solely yours.
.
..
“Junna-” Nana swallows.
“Yes..?”
It’s hard to speak. It’s always been hard to even think of this-
“You must leave-” Yellow lights, blue lights- “ -for Egypt now. For its warmth.”
She never could say those words. She couldn’t say them in their first year, couldn’t say them in their second year, couldn’t say them-
Nana couldn’t say those words. She could say it in all the ways but the one that actually mattered.
She couldn’t. Couldn’t ask for Junna to stay, to try-
Your star is a piece of trash-
She couldn’t ask Junna to stay for her if she was the one to tell her to go away. She couldn’t ask Junna for the same thing she denied her of, the same thing Nana pushed her away for.
And she doesn’t want Junna to stay. She doesn’t. She can want it now but in the long run, where both are on their stage, Nana doesn’t. Nana needs her comfort, needs it so badly but-
She cares for Junna too much to do that. She can’t remake a choice she made once. She can’t Junna do the same, too. So all she does is strangle the words in her throat and-
Junna stills, her hand stopping its movements on Nana’s back. Nana snuggles deeper, closes her eyes shut. She can’t say it, can’t, can’t, can’t-
“ It is not for Egypt I go to-”
But Junna is so warm and Nana is so cold-
“ There is a better warmth here.”
“Please.”
Junna’s shirt is tight in her grip. The silence seeped between them just as Nana’s teeth in her bottom lip. She couldn’t, she couldn’t-
“Please. I can’t.”
Junna doesn’t speak. Junna never does.
She’s smart, her Ju- Junna.
Junna.
Hoshimi Junna.
Junna is smart. Junna knows how to comfort her, always has.
The right words at the right time.
The silent comfort at the right time.
“Nana…”
A warmth meets her head. She has her hair down. Her headache still hasn’t stopped. But with the way her throat hurts, it won’t anytime soon.
Junna’s lips are against her hair, resting there.
Junna. It’s Junna. It was Junna, it’s Junna. Nana still can’t speak of the future.
Will or won’t?
But she can’t show Junna that. They are already packing their things. They are already discussing plane tickets and moving companies and new dorms and-
“Please. I can’t say it. Please.”
She’s a broken record. Nana knows that. She just wants Junna. Just that old comfort, that peace that Junna’s comfort could give her. This warmth.
For longer, just a bit longer-
“I’m here.”
Junna is gentle. Nana only holds her closer, pulls herself closer.
“It’s okay. I’m here.” Her lips lay another kiss on Nana’s head. “It’s okay, Nana. You don't have to. I’m here.”
And the tears break. And they don’t stop. And she can barely breathe between her sobs, trying to stop them and they don’t stop and she just-
And she just holds her. And Junna holds her too. Her grip on Junna’s shirt is tight but she feels Junna’s open palm on her back, holding her close.
And Nana cries. And she cries. For all she passed, for all she’s passing. For all the loops that just made her afraid of the future, of all the choices she’s made, for every single thing that she had to keep inside.
Nana cries for all she has done and for all she hasn’t and she doesn’t stop.
And Junna is there. And for now, she’s there. And Nana doesn’t ask for more.
And she cries. And cries until there is nothing left in her, cries in the comforting silence of someone who doesn’t tell you to stop.
She won’t have this forever. She knows that in a week time’s this bed will be empty and this room will be empty and these walls will be bare. In a week time’s all she’s known will leave and it might as well have been a dream for her.
She won’t have this. She had but she won’t. They had and they won’t.
But for now-
“Junna-chan.”
Just for now-
“ I love you.”
They can pretend to have it.
“I… I love you too, Nana.”
Just for now, they can be two girls who still have a play to prepare, still another day of classes. Just for now, Nana can close her eyes and pretend that nothing has changed, that she won’t move forward with putting these regrets behind her, that she won’t have to live with the choices she has made.
For now, they are just Nana and Junna. No past and no future. Just that. Just two girls.
And for now, that’s enough.