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It felt like years had passed as Kokomi waited for Sara. Sitting on the tatami mat in her spotless aristocratic kitchen, she tapped a cerulean nail against the birch floor rhythmically, wondering if she was even going to show up. Kokomi was bored. But she wasn’t surprised.
Even though their armies had chosen peace, politics had placed a ponderous strain on their relationship. Perhaps a greater one than being exes already had.
Kokomi and Sara had spent a lot of time together when they were dating, so Kokomi had known everything about Sara, from her obscene obsession with the number five to how she always had to have a smiley face on her pancakes. However, if there was one thing Kokomi knew about Sara more than anything else, it was that she was a woeful workaholic who was working herself to an early grave. It wasn’t Sara’s fault, though. Her father was to blame. He had ushered her into a life of living and dying by the sword for pretty much nothing but money and land. She was always more a puppet than a person. Then again, Kokomi supposed she was similar both in actions and philosophy. So that made her a hypocrite, she guessed.
Looking up at the faux pearl-decorated wall clock that read five thirty-seven, Kokomi sighed. She wasn’t coming, was she? Kokomi should’ve deciphered as much from the moment that she hadn’t gotten a letter back from her after she had sent hers two weeks ago. Actually, that was fine. She could probably find something interesting to do, anyway. Find some books to read or something.
Kokomi stood up like a sloth climbing a tree and sauntered over to the pile of books that she kept in the kitchen. She kept her hand against the ivory drywall as she walked like she could keel over from the pain of disappointment at any moment. She even stopped a few times to look back at the door. Nobody was there. No matter how much she looked, nobody was coming.
Once she was in front of the pile, she reached down and just picked up the first thing her fingers touched. Maybe it was one of life’s cruel jokes, but she ended up picking a book of purple-prose filled poems that Sara had written for her when they were dating as teens. It wasn’t anything like the assortment of novels that she had owned. It was made with large sheets of paper that Sara had found lying around that Kokomi had kettle stitched together. Age and spilled food during strict sessions of reading and re-reading had turned the pages yellow, but she didn’t mind. It gave them some charm. The covers were just some recycled board that Kokomi had laying around with a leather sleeve that Sara had painted. Even if she wasn’t the wisest wordsmith, she was definitely an amazing artist.
On the cover was an uncanny portrait of Kokomi, laying on a bed of multi-colored jellyfish as she held the thick stack of poems against her chest. In bold, Sara had drawn the words FOR KOKO with the O’s as hearts. What a cheesy romantic. Kokomi swore she was going to get high cholesterol if she stared at it for too long.
She sat next to the pile and read the poems. They were bad, written in rhymes and riddles that only the two of them could understand. But to Kokomi, that just made them better. It was their code. Their love language. A jubilant grin grew on Kokomi’s face as her cheeks reddened. She hadn’t read those poems since the gods knew how long, but it was like she was back in her teenage years again. Kokomi couldn’t help but recall all the times that they had sneaked off together into the forest to kiss under the moonlight. Better times.
Kokomi sullenly shook her head. She shouldn’t have been thinking about Kujou Sara like that. Even back then, their relationship wasn’t that serious, anyway. Just a fast fling started by stupid kids who wanted to live life like there was no tomorrow. Things weren’t the same as then. Those two kids became guarded grown-ups who, until a few weeks ago, were at war with each other. There was no point in getting sentimental about some childish relationship.
Closing the book, Kokomi let out a small sigh. However, the moment she did, there was a timid knocking at her door, fast and frantic like her racing heart, which came to a stop as the knocking did. Kokomi knew that knocking anywhere. Sara was here! She was actually here!
Kokomi shot up like a bird taking flight and made a beeline for the door. However, she stopped mid-sprint. What was she even going to say to her? Kokomi had called her over because she had missed her, but not because she had anything especially interesting to say or talk about. She had just figured with the truce in effect, she could rekindle the passionately fanned-out flames of their relationship. At least a little. Even if they just stayed friends, Kokomi would be happy. She didn’t want to feel like her callous tactics could cause Sara’s death ever again.
As Kokomi heard a second round of knocking, she swore under her breath. She just had to answer the door. She would figure out what to say after. She hurried to the door and wrapped her slender fingers around the handle, hesitating for a second before she swung the door open. Just like she had expected, Sara was on the other side, but from the loath look in her eyes, it seemed like she already wanted to leave.
At first, Kokomi thought that was fair. After all, they had only just put an end to the war. Tensions between them were still probably sky-high. Maybe Kokomi could force herself to say something if that was all, but considering that she had just been reminiscing about the tranquil times when they were star-crossed lovers just moments ago, embarrassment had sewed her mouth shut and colored her cheeks red.
An awkward silence that seemed to last an eternity passed; during it, Kokomi’s mind ran wild. She had wanted to say something to Sara, but the only thing that she could think of were half-hearted greetings and awkward ramblings that ran on and on and went nowhere like a dog chasing its own tail. Ironically, it would be Sara who spoke first.
“You’re… holding my poem book?”
She was. She was!? She was.
Kokomi swallowed what felt like a sack of pebbles. She tried to think of a white lie to save her hide, but she ended up bleaching her mind. Kokomi opened her mouth a couple times to speak, but only looked like a fish gasping for air. So, she simply shook her head, then nodded, then shook her head again, then nodded again.
Clearly, Sara understood her paradoxical answer because she just replied, “Okay. Um, might I enter?”
That time, Kokomi nodded as if her head was too heavy for her body and stepped out of the doorway to allow Sara entry. Sara gave a profound bow with the elegance of a crane before she marched inside. Now that Kokomi wasn’t staring at those hypnotizing yet stifling amber eyes, she had a second to take a deep breath. Just Sara’s presence had sowed the seeds of worry and doubt in her mind—but she had to greet those with pesticides of pragmatism. Fear was an emotion that looked ugly on any well-respected tactician. If she could survive bloody battles and wretched wars, she could surely survive spending some time with her ex.
In order to shove her unease aside, Kokomi viewed the situation with an analytical eye. That was a tactic that she had abused often on the battlefield. It had helped her to maintain some semblance of humanity since knowing hundreds—if not thousands—have died at your command makes it hard for your lunch to go down sometimes. Treating things like a game was Kokomi’s premium strategy, prime for success. Life was a game like shogi or Go; Kokomi played to win.
Though, Kokomi didn’t know whether she was competing against Sara or herself. It didn’t matter, though. She was going to win, regardless.
Kokomi turned to look at Sara, who had made herself at home, sitting silently on the tatami mat. In her expression, she could discern neither dread nor panic. In fact, Sara seemed quite content fiddling with her fingers as she probably waited for Kokomi to come over and say something. She actually looked sort of cute doing so.
Shoot. She was thinking about Sara in that way again.
Kokomi shook her head and slapped her cheeks, which caught Sara’s attention. The two of them locked eyes again, but nothing spilled from their lips. The silence left Kokomi stressed as she counted the seconds that passed. One. Two. She needed to say something.
“Er, apologies, Sara,” she started. “I, er, well… I’m not quite sure what came over me. I didn’t mean to, er, grab your attention?”
That was terrible. Kokomi was ashamed that she had even said such incomprehensible nonsense.
Sara’s lips stretched into a sullen frown as a sigh slipped past them. “Kokomi. Come here. Sit.”
Sara patted the space next to her and Kokomi obliged, shuffling over to her. However, the closer that she had gotten, the more she felt like she was wading against a heavy tide. After each step, the pace of her racing heart increased, until it was pounding at her rib cage like a desperate prisoner craving freedom. Despite that, on the surface, Kokomi had maintained a veneer of calmness. And even though her cheeks were a little red, she could explain that with the slaps instead of her excruciating embarrassment.
Once Kokomi sat, she was silent, strategically planning what she wanted to say in her mind. However, the feeling of Sara’s hand over hers halted her thoughts and drew her eyes up to Sara’s. There was a distinct warmth in Sara’s sunny gaze—one she had missed for years. Maybe that was why she had become more and more cold these days. It was stupid to fight a feeling that felt so good—that made her feel so safe—so she leaned into that warmth, nestling her smaller hand beneath Sara’s slightly larger one.
“What’s the matter, Kokomi?” Sara asked, her voice soft and sweet like ice cream. It was such a stark contrast to how she barked at soldiers on the battlefield that if she hadn’t known Sara as long as she did, she would’ve thought that the woman talking to her was another person entirely. “Was it something to do with the poem book? You don’t need to keep it if you don’t wish to. If it pains you, throw it out.”
“I won’t just throw out our memories,” Kokomi blurted out completely on instinct. “They mean too much to me.”
Shoot! Kokomi slapped her hands over her mouth and slid her fingers over her eyes. She couldn’t believe she had just said that! Why did she say that!? Why would she ever say that!?
If this really was a game, Kokomi had certainly lost. Panic crawled into every recess in her mind like tiny insects chasing the crumbs of her sanity. Whatever pieces of their broken relationship that Kokomi would have scraped together after all that they had been through wouldn’t make anything of note now. It would just be a mosaic of miserable memories.
Kokomi wasn’t sure what kind of masochistic demon possessed her, but she couldn’t help but pull apart her index and middle fingers and peek through them. Sara didn’t seem sour about what she had said at all. She just tapped her index finger against her forehead five times and let out a pensive hum.
There was no predicting what Sara had thought or would do next. Kokomi could only hope for the best.
Without warning, Sara reached for Kokomi’s hands and held them in hers. Sara’s hands were stone-coarse—undoubtedly a byproduct of her rigid training rituals. They were always like that, though, even back when they were dating. Kokomi would occasionally poke fun at them, but only to send signals about how she should take a day or five off. Sara ran her thumbs along Kokomi’s soft palms and the two locked eyes like they had started a staring match. Despite it not probably not being what she had intended, Sara’s gaze was fierce; Kokomi felt like the prey of a lion.
Still, it was nice to hold hands with Sara after all this time. Nervousness had left Kokomi petrified, but she could say the experience was still somewhat pleasant. Maybe. Or maybe that was just what she believed, so she didn’t break down.
Breathe, Kokomi. In. Out. In. Out.
As Kokomi closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her eyes widened once she felt Sara’s soft lips against hers. As a knee-jerk reaction, she nearly pushed Sara away—and by the gods, she was glad that she didn’t because she pulled her closer and deepened the kiss. Even though their tongues grazed against each other gracelessly at first, it didn’t take long for Sara to melt into the kiss like a cold treat in the summer.
After about a minute, Kokomi pulled away first, half-confused and all-excited about what had just occurred. Sara shyly looked away, her cheeks burning red. She looked so adorable!
However, as she was coming down from the high of their first-class kiss, Kokomi finally realized what Sara was wearing as she clutched the material in her fingers. Fleece. Fleece dyed teal. Kokomi had made her that sweater.
“Are you… wearing the sweater I gave you?” she asked, her voice hushed yet brimming with excitement.
Timidly turning her head back to her, Sara nodded. “Er, yes… I figured if I were to come over, it would only be right.” She looked away again, her voice barely audible as she spoke once more. “Was… the kiss good?”
Was Sara really going to put her on the spot like that? Well, it didn’t matter. She probably didn't fully grasp how grievous of a question that could be. Kokomi tapped her finger against her chin, feigning the need to think about it as deeply as one of her military decisions before she nodded.
“It was good,” Kokomi said like she was reading the words off a dry instruction manual—mostly to tease Sara. “Unexpected, but good.”
“Unexpected?” Sara repeated, her voice low and nervous. “F-Forgive me, but you puckered your lips, did you not?”
A sweet laugh spilled from Kokomi’s lips. Sara was so precious. “Yeah. To take a breath, Sara.” She shook her head. “Anyhow, it truly doesn't matter. If we both enjoyed it, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Er, yes, Kokomi. I agree. There’s nothing for us to be ashamed of.”
Their conversation died down and the two of them sat in silence, lost in the luster of the other’s eyes. While things between them were still electric, it wasn’t shocking that the two of them would simply enjoy the peace of silence. However, the sound of Sara’s grumbling stomach had put an end to that.
Kokomi chuckled. “Hungry, dear?”
“Er…” Sara gave a stiff nod and scratched her cheek with her finger. “Yes… Would you like to make cookies with me?”
Assuredly and hurriedly, Kokomi nodded. “I would love to, Sara.”