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Ei missed her and her phone calls.
Her oldest friend had been radio silent for two entire weeks, and the lack of notifications from her on Ei’s phone made her feel incomplete. Ei wouldn’t dare to give in and call her first, though, so she found ways to keep her mind busy: she cleaned the cat’s litter box; she did the history homework she’d been avoiding the whole week; she ordered food and ate it as she ignored Sara’s insistent calls.
Then, when her place was cleaner than it had been in a year, she peeked at her phone again.
Unsurprisingly, nothing had changed. Nothing significant , to be fair, except for six different notifications from Sara — four missed calls, two texts that said “I know you’re home” and “can you please answer me???” — and an email from her History professor reminding her about her final assignment.
Her phone buzzed again as she got a new notification, messaging app open. She dared herself to hope for just a second that it would be her.
Instead, it was just her group of friends.
morax: Ei, are you coming?
barbatos: ei u need to come im not paying for john lees dinner 😭
She replied with a simple “Im not in the mood”, washed the dishes, and went to her room — the only part of the small apartment she hadn’t properly cleaned, just barely tidied up.
That was the worst part of her missing Miko: the knowledge that, though that room had been occupied by her for many days and nights, the pieces of her that stayed there would eventually wear off. That the whole place still smelled sweet because of her, which made Ei more bitter than usual... and also that part of that smell was probably just Ei’s imagination, pinning Miko to her bed, pink hair matching her rosy cheeks as she laughed at Ei’s awkwardness, telling Ei about some of her favorite dirty short stories.
Her feet moved around slowly as she avoided Miko’s dresses on the floor, constant reminders that that apartment had been theirs for a moment.
So unusual of Miko to leave her place like this. She must have been really mad after Ei told her to leave.
—
Miko pretended to read a book.
At the publishing house, where she got her first internship, her feelings hid under a mask of mordacity.
She could tell people were scared of her. Maybe because she was too efficient at her job and they thought she’d steal theirs, maybe because she didn’t hold back on criticism. She knew she could be a writer herself, but editing was her true passion. And, yeah, she was barely 24, but she was very good at it.
Fact is, she didn’t have any friends to spare, but she was ok with that fact as long as her colleagues didn’t stop her from reading stories and writing notes on them.
That day, however, editing felt more like punishment. It was a novel — she usually preferred short stories — from a new author that had published a huge success the year before, but that now she worried could be just a one-hit-wonder. Chapters merged in themselves as the author reutilized the same plot points they’d used in the first book. Same letters rearranged in different ways to tell the same stories… none of them as interesting as the words Ei whispered to her every night.
She looked up and sighed.
Goddamned Ei. Interfering with her judgment and, now, interfering with her ability to do her job properly, which was arguably much worse.
So she closed the book and brought it to her forehead, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply.
“Why won’t you call me?” she whispered, too tiny for anyone else to hear.
Then, she opened the book and continued her annotations, each comment nastier than the other as she turned her feelings into pencil on paper.
—
a week later.
It was at times like this that the pain of her sister’s death felt just as recent as six years before, when Ei’s life had turned upside down.
Makoto had been brilliant, the shiny star, a sun to Ei’s dark sky. And brilliant her life had been, though very short. They were already orphans, heirs to an empire with no parents to guide them. And, in a matter of days, Ei had lost the only family support she’d ever had, months before they entered a new phase of their lives.
But she tried to move on. She assumed all responsibilities and found a way to attend college — her sister’s dream, not hers, but she figured she owed her that. She tried and she eventually was capable of moving alone. But she didn’t forget the pain.
She soon learned she never would.
During the first months, Ei thought losing Makoto and dealing with such sorrow would make her harder and stronger as time passed. Maybe her heart wouldn’t hurt as much when it healed and brought scars with it. Instead, she found a cureless hole in her chest that could be poked constantly, especially when she felt most vulnerable.
That was one of those moments. A moment where she clung to the hole and it became all of her.
It had been three weeks since Miko last talked to her, and Ei realized maybe something was eternally broken. She’d been so hurt by her own hypotheses that she didn’t mind asking Miko what she meant. Maybe, if Ei had asked instead of completely pushing Miko away, she’d be here.
But it was Makoto’s day, and Miko didn’t call.
Everyone else called, though. Morax, Barbatos, Sara. Her neighbor, Kokomi. Some of them — she couldn’t tell exactly who — even knocked on her door and left her some food.
Miko was the only one who could ever understand and comfort her at that moment, though. So Ei locked herself inside her head and decided she wouldn’t leave for the day.
—
a week later.
Sara sat in front of Miko. She was always very collected, calm, direct, with a perfect uneven haircut. But Miko could tell just how uneasy the other girl was.
They were at a coffee shop. Though Miko wasn’t a big fan of caffeinated drinks, Ei was a fan of sweets, and the place had tons of them. So she got used to the light noise and music around her, the smell of warm drinks, the warm temperature compared to the cold of the publishing house’s rooms. It was a good place to meet someone she didn’t especially like.
“You know, Raiden hasn’t been responding to my calls,” Sara said, not trying to sugarcoat what the conversation was about.
Miko had one thing clear about Sara: she was obsessed with Ei. Not in a stalker way — Miko would have known, Ei had some of those — but in a somewhat gay kind of way. Apparently, as an orphan, Sara had found inspiration in Ei’s story, and meeting her in college was the perfect chance she had to meet the girl she admired so much.
But at some point, Sara had crossed the line from being a fan to actually becoming a friend of Ei’s… which was good, because it meant Ei was less alone, but also terrible, because now Sara felt entitled to talk about Ei to Miko as if she knew Ei the way Miko did.
How absurd.
Miko smirked.
“Maybe if you were a bit less annoying…”
Sara raised her brows.
“What’s your problem?”
“What’s your problem?”
“You know Makoto died almost exactly six years ago, right? Her death anniversary was a week ago, in fact. Can you imagine how Raiden feels?”
It was funny, the way she called Ei Raiden . As if they were not close at all, though Sara certainly wanted to get through every single one of Ei’s barriers.
“I know,” Miko answered. Her pain couldn’t ever be compared to Ei’s, but Makoto took a part of her heart with her too when she died. Miko couldn’t possibly forget about that day.
“Then why aren’t you with her right now?”
“She doesn’t want me there.”
“I heard you guys fought.”
Miko pressed her lips, then moved her head slightly to the side.
“Yeah? Who gave you that information? Kokomi?”
She just wanted to provoke and didn’t expect a very interesting answer. But Sara, very serious Sara… she blushed.
Oh, what a nice turn of events. Had it really been Kokomi who told her about Ei?
“She was coming back from the temple and saw you leave Raiden’s apartment.” Sara knitted her brows. “They live on the same floor, you know. It’s not like she was following Raiden for me or anything. I wasn’t, either.
“So you’re close with Kokomi, huh?” Miko moved back on her chair, crossing her arms. “I think she’s really cute. She could definitely help you be less… uptight.”
“Can you please take this seriously?” Sara said, both hands on the table. “You don’t have to take me seriously, but I know you care about Raiden. I know you like her.”
The word like sounded suspiciously like love.
“Of course I care about her. But, as I said, she doesn’t want me there.”
Sara stared at Miko, and then shook her head.
“What? Don’t stare at me like that, it makes me nervous. I might start flirting with you.”
Sara ignored the second part.
“Why would Raiden ever fight with you?”
“If you think I’m telling you…”
“I’m not asking you to tell me, I’m just wondering out loud. Because it doesn’t make sense.” Sara couldn’t hold the stare, and Miko was sure she’d somehow hit a sore spot. “She’s obsessed with you.”
She’s obsessed with you. What a weird way to describe Ei’s feelings towards her. Was it obsession? Was Sara just projecting what she felt? Or was it truly what everyone saw in the way Ei talked about her?
“I thought she… appreciated my company too,” Miko finally answered.
“So what happened?”
She could see Sara wasn’t interested in knowing what happened for pure gossip or pure curiosity or any ill intentions really, like the men at Miko's job that kept asking about her personal life.
She cared for Ei, more than she should, considering Ei wasn’t always the most responsive or accessible of friends. Sara was probably the only person that Miko could share the story with without feeling like she was betraying her. If anyone was more loyal than her to Ei, that’d be Sara.
“Ei’s just stubborn.” Miko tried to avoid the conversation one last time.
“That’s not enough of a reason.”
“Ok then. I kissed her.”
Sara didn’t look surprised, just confused, as if that didn’t explain anything. She really just had a way of getting into Miko’s nerves.
“I kissed her, and she told me to leave.”
——
the past.
Ei and Miko had known each other since elementary school. They went to a very strict, very respectable boarding school that taught them how to lie, cheat, and sneak out whenever nobody was looking. Ei wouldn’t do any of that, but she supported Miko when she did.
And though Miko also loved Makoto dearly, Ei was her closest friend by far.
During high school, Miko dated. Ei and Makoto never did.
All three of them were gorgeous and amicable and popular, but Miko enjoyed the way she made people uncomfortable with her bluntness, and people were unexpectedly drawn to her sincerity. Makoto was too busy being prepared to lead the company, so her presence at school wasn’t as noted. And Ei was more like the odd mysterious queen with a sister that looked like her, but friendlier, though she barely showed up. People were also curious, but not as drawn to her.
Ei didn’t care about impressing people. She cared only about Miko. And, truth be told, about the people that flirted with Miko — not so much the guys; she was mostly worried about the girls.
“What if one of them steals you from me?” Ei asked one afternoon, as they lay under a tree, sun reddening the inside of their eyelids, waiting for the next class to start.
Miko laughed. “Kissing them won’t make them my best friend. You have that spot forever.”
Ei smiled back, though her heart still sunk.
Miko couldn’t know that each time she kissed a different person, Ei felt like a part of her was taken too. Such a thought was selfish and silly. They would always be best friends, after all.
Ei couldn’t ruin that by telling Miko she had been in love with her ever since they first met.
After Makoto died, during sophomore year, Ei and Miko got closer than both had thought possible. Grief was a powerful catalyst, and their feelings changed with it, though none of the girls could describe exactly how. Ei would share with Miko the burdens of the family that she didn’t have before, and that, even if she did, Makoto had previously been there to listen to.
They finished school, applied to the same universities, and eventually started college together.
That was when things got somehow complicated, though none of them would admit.
“You can stay here, you know,” Ei had said one night, when they were drunk on the couch and Zhongli, Venti and his boyfriend had already left. She was holding a cup of water, hiding half of her face with it.
“On your couch? I don’t enjoy waking up with incapacitating back pain that much, thank you.”
“No, with me.” Raiden then corrected herself way too quickly, even before Miko could hear any strange intentions. “In my bed. Like we did when we were kids. I know we’re way taller now, but it is a king-size.”
Miko shrugged, though her heart probably couldn’t beat faster without going into cardiac arrest.
“I think I could fit. Unless you have a secret form in which you’re three meters tall.”
Ei turned around, leaving her cup on the counter behind her.
“Very funny. Go change, you can grab one of my pajamas. I’m sleepy.”
And that suddenly became a habit. A completely innocent one.
They did sleep in the same bed as kids and then got too big for that, but now Ei had a king-size bed in her gigantic apartment in the middle of the city. Miko had her own place, of course, but she wasn’t loaded like Ei. She had to share the place, and her room was smaller than Ei’s kitchen.
So Miko lived in that apartment, and she lived with Ei. The day-to-day contact gave them new information about each other, the way they liked their routines. If somehow they could be closer after dealing with grief together, that was it.
Miko felt guilty, though, because even though it was innocent and she would never try anything, she didn’t want it to be. She changed clothes in front of Ei as she would with a close friend, letting Ei catch glimpses of her body. And, eventually, much-more-reserved Ei started doing it too, letting Miko memorize, without noticing, every mole on her skin, every deeper and swollen spot.
As if that wasn’t enough, Ei would often hug Miko in her sleep. Miko had to learn breathing exercises to control herself when that happened, but she didn’t think Ei meant anything by it. Ei and Makoto had been very close, after all. She probably just missed her sister. Miko had no reason to feel like that hug meant more than Ei’s secret need to replace the emptiness her sister had left. And she could not — should not — take advantage of it.
So Miko hid her feelings from Ei and herself, sleeping there and letting Ei hug her tight and whisper nonsensical lovely words like it didn’t mean a thing. Every night, when Ei put her chin on her shoulder, Miko thought she could probably have been an actress instead of an editor if she’d dedicated herself to theater classes in high school.
She also sometimes wondered if things would’ve been different if they hadn’t gotten so close so fast, without having a chance to slowly get to know each other.
That night, when they fought and Ei asked Miko to leave, there had been an event where all seniors needed to be present, an anticipation of a future celebration, and they’d drunk a bit. Not enough to make them incapable of understanding what they were doing, but enough to make them both braver and stupider.
When they got home, after having to act like they weren’t total outsiders with their group of friends, they joked around, imitating each other. Miko liked to imitate Ei’s solemn look, the way she made people feel like their lives meant nothing. Ei made fun of Miko’s voice when she tried to persuade people to do whatever she wanted — which often worked.
“I don't sound like that,” Miko laughed, throwing a cushion. “You make me sound like a cat!”
“You’re right, you’re not a cat,” Ei threw herself on the sofa, right beside Miko, and touched her nose lightly. “You’re more like a fox.”
Miko removed Ei’s hand from her face.
“Like a fox?”
Ei shrugged. She was looking up, neck touching the back pillow of the couch.
“Cunning, sly. You know, all the common adjectives.”
Miko wasn’t satisfied.
“You think I'm sly?”
“Foxes are my favorite animal.” Ei interrupted.
When Miko didn’t answer, honestly just confused by the abrupt sentence, Ei looked at her.
“Just like you’re my favorite person.”
Miko rolled her eyes and stood up. “Let’s not get sentimental.”
She hated that. When Ei was open like that, she had to be open too. And there were some doors she needed to keep very close, lest they’d open and flood their relationship.
Miko went to the room and prepared herself to sleep. She removed her makeup in seconds and put her hair down. Her dress was a bit fancier than usual, but not so hard to remove. She was in the process of doing so when Ei stopped by the door. Miko could see her in the mirror in the closet.
Ei wore a gray dress with buttons on the back, unreachable by her own hands. Miko figured that was why she wasn’t undressing.
“Can’t take your dress off, right? Just a moment.”
But Ei didn’t answer.
Miko finished putting on her pajamas — pink silk that she’d stolen from Ei — and turned around.
“Are you ok?”
Silence always scared her, because Ei hadn’t talked for an entire month when Makoto died.
“Ei, what’s going on?”
Ei stood by the door. She never showed anxiety, but her avoidance, the fact she wouldn’t look into Miko’s eyes, was a sign she didn’t feel right. Miko walked in her direction.
“Ei?”
“What will you do after we graduate?”
Miko stopped.
“Uh, I haven’t thought that far. You’ll take care of the company full time, I will create my own publishing house.”
Ei crossed her arms. A sign of insecurity, not hostility.
“Won’t that make us distant?”
“How can we be distant? We live together.”
Ei’s eyes were deeper than before, and more hopeful, too.
“So you’ll stay here?”
And Miko understood. She’d always just assumed they’d keep sharing that apartment — any apartment really — after they graduated. They were good roommates. There was enough space. None of them were dating. Why change it?
“Of course I will. Where else would I go?”
“I don't know. Your old apartment, with one of your work colleagues…”
Ei sounded like she’d been thinking about Miko wanting to move out for a while. Why? Miko had never said anything about it.
“…or with someone new. Someone… you could share a bed with.
Miko was puzzled.
“Ei, do you want me to move out? I can do that. It’s ok.”
Still standing by the door, Ei seemed to lose her anxious composure.
“What? That's literally the opposite of what I’m trying to say. I don't want you to move out.”
“Why are you asking me all those questions then? It’s like you’re trying to find out if I have another place to go to.”
Ei shook her head and entered the room, stopping in front of Miko.
“I'm worried you want to move somewhere else.”
Ei turned around, her back to Miko so she could remove Ei’s dress.
Also, Miko realized later, maybe to avoid Miko's eyes yet again.
“I saw the notes one of the girls that work with you has been sending you. It’s ok if you’re dating. You don’t need to hide.”
Miko was puzzled again. Those buttons were so hard to open, and Ei wasn’t making any sense. Such a lightweight, she was probably drunker than Miko still.
“What are you even talking about?”
“Her messages to you. You left your laptop open once. I swear I wasn't prying or anything. But it’s very romantic, Miko. The way she keeps sending you random romantic stuff. I figured you didn’t block her or anything because you enjoy it.”
Miko chuckled, and Ei turned around, offended by it. Miko had opened enough buttons, so she could remove her dress if she wanted.
“What?”
“Are you talking about Miyuki? Ei, she’s sending me quotes from a book. I think she does have a crush on me, but those quotes mean nothing. I asked her to send me the ones she found the most peculiar.”
Ei looked hesitant at first, but then she sat on the bed, covering her face with her hands.
“I feel like such an idiot.”
Miko couldn’t help but laugh again. “You really think I wouldn’t tell you if I were involved with someone? You are such an idiot.”
When Ei didn’t answer, Miko approached her, sitting by her side on the bed. She was trying to comfort Ei, but Ei’s back was completely exposed by the open dress, so she didn’t touch her. Too dangerous. Too, too dangerous.
“Those quotes were indeed very romantic.“
Ei still didn’t answer.
“Seeing you jealous like that was a bit worth the confusion though.”
Ei looked up, her nose just centimeters from Miko’s. She smelled so sweet. Miko felt disorientated.
“I wasn't jealous , I was scared!”
Miko's hands touched both sides of Ei's neck.
“I'm not leaving this place, dumbass. I'm definitely not leaving you.”
Ei nodded. She moved as close as it was possible without touching noses.
“Good, because I need you here with me. You’re the only person in the world that understands me.”
What happened after that was a blur in Miko's head. She couldn’t explain why she did so.
Maybe it was Ei's expectant eyes, telling Miko to do something, anything. She probably just wanted Miko to reassure her again, but Miko did feel like it could be a kiss that she wanted, too. She was looking at Miko's lips too, wasn’t she?
Had Miko been so eager to kiss her that she completely misinterpreted all the signs?
So she kissed Ei. Eyes open, because she wanted to see Ei's reaction — and Ei closed hers. Then Miko closed her eyes, too. Her lips were slow at first and then hungry, hungrier.
Ei didn’t stop her then. She could. She savored Miko — a bit awkwardly, because she wasn’t a very experienced kisser, but still glorious to Miko's lips. She touched Miko's hair and pulled her closer.
And then Miko touched her on her exposed back, and Ei stopped the kiss, a hand between them to stop Miko.
“What are you doing?”
Miko stood up; the realization of what she’d done fell like a stone. Ei looked hurt.
“I'm sorry.”
Ei’s hands covered her face again.
“This... it shouldn’t have happened like this.”
That room always felt too big, but now it was too small. Miko had nowhere to walk to without leaving it.
“Why did you kiss me?” Ei asked.
Because I’ve been wanting to do so ever since we became friends , Miko wanted to say.
“I'm sorry, Ei.”
“Answer me. Why did you kiss me?”
Miko couldn’t tell the truth, could she? Kissing Ei was one thing — confessing her love and letting Ei know that she had been in love with her throughout all their sleepovers would have no comeback. Ei would feel betrayed and used, and fairly so. Her trust in Miko would wane when she learned Miko had been acting and lying for so long.
“Because we’re drunk and I misread everything. I thought you wanted to kiss me.”
Ei nodded. “So you didn’t actually want to kiss me? You just thought I wanted a kiss and gave me that?”
“It doesn’t matter, Ei.”
“It does matter to me.”
“It doesn’t matter because I did it without thinking. And because this won’t happen again.”
“It won’t?”
That made Miko realize she would never be able to kiss Ei again, when Ei asked the question like that.
“It won’t.”
Ei sighed. She then hid under the covers, staring in the other direction.
“I need you to leave.”
“What?”
“I need you to leave my apartment.”
Those words didn’t make sense. Wasn’t she promising Ei exactly what Ei wanted? Come on.
“Are you serious?”
“Leave, Miko. Now.”
“I know I made a mistake but I promise you I won't do it again. You’re my friend. I have no intentions of changing that or making you uncomfortable.”
“It's ok. Just leave, please.”
“Just tell me what I can do to fix this.”
Ei raised her voice without turning around.
“Miko, leave. Now. I need to be alone.”
Ei had never asked Miko to leave, not even when Makoto died and she isolated and silenced herself for a month.
So Miko grabbed her purse and left. Her dress on the floor, her toothbrush by Ei's toothbrush in the bathroom.
If Ei wanted her to leave, there was no reason for her to try to stay.
—
the present.
“So that’s what happened?” Sara said. The fact she looked bewildered instead of shocked annoyed Miko. Were Miko’s feelings for Ei that obvious?
“That’s what happened. Now, brilliant Sara, what do you think?”
Sara shook her head, grabbing her teacup to drink it.
“I think there’s something I’m missing here.”
“The way I missed the fact Ei is probably straight?”
Again, Sara’s face annoyed Miko too much: she stared at Miko like Miko was stupid.
Only Miko herself could look that way at others.
“Raiden’s not straight.”
How could she dare to think more about Ei than Miko did? Miko snorted.
“Yae, I’m serious. I’ve seen the way she looks at you. She’s clearly in love with you.”
Miko hated to show surprise, especially to Sara. But that really caught her.
“What?”
“Oh my god.” Sara dared to sound exasperated. “I thought you were the smarter one, but you’re clearly just as clueless as her. You should text her and let her know how you feel, too.”
Surprisingly, that didn’t sound like a terrible option. Miko had already hurt her somehow, so why not tell the truth with it?
“I've learned to give her space when she needs it,” Miko answered. “She might think she wants to be alone, but she’ll soon realize she’s wrong.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I'm not. But I’m not going after her when she so clearly told me to leave.”
At that moment, as if it were listening to that conversation, Miko’s phone buzzed.
She checked the notification screen. Ei had finally texted her with one of the vaguest questions she could probably start a conversation with.
did it mean anything to you?
—
Ei was tired of the slumber she’d put herself in. She knew Barbatos was already worried enough about his sick boyfriend — she didn’t need to make him worry more.
Besides, today was a terrible day that couldn’t possibly get worse. Her professor had called her to notify her of the deadline she’d completely missed. Her thesis proposal , and she couldn’t focus enough to send it to him.
Not when the only question she wanted to investigate was, why hasn’t Miko called ?
She figured if Miko hadn’t called one week before, when she knew Ei was probably at her lowest, there were no winners. Miko wouldn’t be the first one to break.
Why would she, when you so clearly told her to leave you alone? She’s always respected your wishes.
Ei sighed. The problem was, she could only tell the truth. She wasn’t postponing forgiving Miko, because there was nothing to forgive Miko for. She didn’t misread anything. Ei had been careless and basically begged with her eyes for Miko to kiss her.
She was postponing her exposure, the way she’d go through each of her lies and tell her she hadn’t been honest. That every time she asked Miko to stay because her apartment was bigger and closer to campus, it was just that she could have Miko on the bed with her.
That she was pretty awake when she decided to hug Miko every night, and that her sleep had gotten much better because of it.
So she took her phone and texted the question that had been running in circles through her mind, stopping her from doing even the simplest chores lately. She couldn’t think too much or try to explain it too much. She hoped Miko would understand.
did it mean anything to you?
The wait of 46 seconds almost broke her, but before she could delete the text, Miko answered.
i messed it up, i’m sorry.
Won’t she stop apologizing , Ei wondered. Miko had done nothing wrong.
Words were too messy, and if in person they could be completely misinterpreted, texting all of them could be even worse.
Ei wanted to be as unambiguous as possible. So she decided to call.
It took Miko less than three seconds to answer.
“Ei!”
“Miko.”
“How are you? Everyone’s been so worried…”
“Why didn’t you call last week?”
Not the question Ei had been dying to ask, but the one that came to mind as she heard worry in Miko’s voice.
Silence. She didn’t know how, but she could see Miko licking her lips as she thought of an answer.
“I didn't think it would be fair of me to ask for forgiveness when I knew you were your most vulnerable self. I knew you needed me, but I didn’t want to take advantage of that. And I’m not sorry for doing so.”
Ei could feel her nose prickling. That wasn’t a made-up excuse. Miko had thought of her and decided to leave her alone, probably for her best. Because Ei had asked her to.
“So you did remember.”
“ Of course I remembered, Ei,” she didn’t sound offended, just reassuring. “She was my friend too. And even if she weren’t, I care about you. I couldn't stop worrying about what you might do without me there.”
Ei scanned her hands on her lap, tears falling on them. Her voice didn’t so much as tremble.
“Where are you now?”
Silence again.
“Miko?”
“Getting my ass kicked by Sara. Who, unlike me, called you multiple times the past week.”
Ei knitted her brows, feeling like the shittiest person in the world.
“Tell her I'm sorry. And to thank Kokomi for the soup she left by my door, if that was her.”
“Yeah, sure. Ei says thank you.”
Silence again.
“Ei, you-“
“Miko, I-“
Both stopped talking.
“I think you should go first,” Miko said.
“Ok,” Ei said, but couldn’t bring herself to ask it out loud.
“Ei?”
“I can't do this.”
“Just tell me, it’s ok.”
“Where are you?”
Miko sighed. Ei could hear car noises. Was Miko crossing the street?
“The coffee shop across your building. I told you I was keeping an eye on you.”
“Can you come home?”
Home. Their home, for such a long time.
“Of course. Be there in 5 minutes.”
—
The doorman didn’t ring to let Ei know Miko was coming. He hadn’t for the past eight months.
“This is bad,” Miko said as she opened the door with her key. “It smells rotten in here.”
Ei sat on the couch. She didn’t move.
She barely had time to clean her face so she didn’t look like she’d been crying.
“Oh my god, Ei,” Miko sat right in front of her. It looked like she’d grab Ei's hand, but she chose not to. “You look terrible. I’m sorry.”
So washing her face to clean the tears didn’t work when she hadn’t brushed her hair in days. Noted.
“Don’t feel sorry, you’re right. You shouldn’t have come then.” Ei smiled, still looking down, unable to face Miko. “I needed to deal with this alone.”
It was weird, the way Miko felt so out of place. This had been their place for months, and now she didn’t know where to put her hands, where to sit, how to talk to Ei. Miko was always so sure of her every move. Ei felt guilty for changing that.
“I know you’re strong, but you didn’t need to deal with anything alone. I'm… sorry for messing things up.”
Ei winced. That word again, messy . As if Ei were this precious innocent thing and Miko had somehow corrupted their relationship.
“You didn’t mess anything up. You just complicated it.” She held Miko’s hand, knowing Miko wanted to hold hers, and finally looked up. “Did you mean it?”
Miko blinked, eyeing her carefully. “I shouldn't have taken advantage of you. I completely misread it.”
“I'm asking you if you meant to kiss me. I want to know what you were thinking.”
“That’s the problem, Ei,” Miko looked down. That was new in her too, such shame. She was never ashamed of her mistakes. “I wasn't thinking.”
“But you felt something. What was it?”
“I felt the urge to kiss you. God, Ei, why are you making this so hard?”
Ei let all the air from her lungs go, and stood up.
“Miko… I don't think you understand.” Ei paced from one side of the room to the other. “It's not that I disliked it, or that you shouldn’t have done it.”
“What is it, then?” Miko's purple eyes followed her figure.
“I just need to know what it meant to you.”
Miko stayed silent. Ei stopped pacing.
“Won’t you say anything?”
“You won’t like what I have to say.”
Ei’s heart sank.
“It's ok. I forgive you.”
Now it was Miko who was hiding her face behind her hands. Ei suddenly understood why Miko hated when she did that.
“I can't do this, Ei. Can’t we just forget this ever happened?”
“I can’t pretend it didn’t happen, Miko. It changed everything.”
Miko looked up.
“What do you mean?”
If Miko wouldn’t give her a proper answer, Ei might just give her a proper explanation. At least Miko would know why she’d asked her to leave. Why what that kiss meant to Miko mattered so much. Why it was probably for the best if they had to follow separate ways for a while.
“It’s just that…” she gulped. The words had been kept in her throat for so long, that now they didn’t want to come out. “I’ve seen you date other people, wondering when you’d finally look at me.”
Miko tried to say something, but Ei interrupted.
“Let me finish, please. I need to say it all in one go. Because I’ve kissed people before, but it never meant anything. And when you did that, I couldn't understand if you meant it, or if I was just… another. Among so many you’ve kissed. Which is fine, I don't care if you’ve kissed other people. As long as I was the last. I didn’t want to be one more.
“And that’s the truth, Miko. Stop apologizing for kissing me, it only makes me feel more guilty for wanting you so much. I haven't been an honest friend to you throughout these years. I’ve lied to your face and found excuses to hold you tight and close to me. And I understand that that kiss didn’t mean as much to you as it meant to me, but I need to know what you felt, for my own sanity.”
Miko still didn’t answer. She looked… speechless. It was the first time Ei had ever seen her like that.
“So? Won’t you say anything? I swear to god, Miko, I will just open a hole here and dig myself if you don’t say anything.”
Miko stood up, her hands touching Ei's neck in the same way she'd done that night.
“Ei... how could you ever think that? How could you ever think it didn’t mean as much to me?”
She touched Ei’s forehead with hers.
“You think you lied? I lied too. I held you closer. I pretended to be in control when I touched your hand tenderly, when you asked me to help you take off your dress, when you stroked my hair during your sleep.
“I held myself from kissing you so, so many times before. And that’s what that kiss meant to me, Ei. Release. I was determined to hide forever if that also meant keeping you forever, but for that moment I let it go. And I felt free. That’s what it meant.”
Both girls were breathless, but also grinning stupidly. They could almost feel each other’s heartbeat.
“I wish you wouldn’t have held back,” Ei said.
And, again, they kissed.
—
two weeks later.
“You two are such idiots.”
That was the fourth time they were hearing that same sentence that week. This time, it was Venti who said it.
“Are you serious? We’re being judged by the guy who thought his boyfriend hated him?” Miko said, turning to Ei. “We’ve really hit a low point here.”
“Xiao was dealing with stuff , ok?” Venti replied. “And he can be too intense sometimes.”
Zhongli, who sat beside Venti and right in front of Ei, nodded.
“You look happy, Raiden. You deserve good things in your life. I’m happy for you.”
“You guys are just… I swear to god…” Ei hid in Miko’s arms, completely embarrassed.
“Yes,” Miko beamed. “Keep telling me how good I am to my girlfriend. I love it.”
They’d been to that same bar so many times before and, though things felt pretty much the same, everything was different.
Miko didn’t have to control herself not to kiss Ei's forehead; she just did it. Ei didn’t have to hide her stares; she just faced Miko as often as she could, as lovingly as she wanted. Venti and Zhongli noticed the difference. They felt way more comfortable too, being able to not pretend to see.
The comfortable silence they’d had before, where they’d keep unspoken words floating for everyone else to grab but them, was now gone.
“You know,” Ei started, as they walked home. It was a chilly, windy night, with not many people in the streets, but plenty of crowded bars. “That month when I had to live alone again, I wondered if I could do it again.”
“Do what again?”
“…Losing someone I love.”
Miko listened. There were spoken words that could remain unspoken — the way Ei was marked by grief was not a secret.
So Miko stopped in her tracks and hugged Ei, because that was the only thing she could do.
“I won't leave you, ever. Unless you ask me. Unless you truly want me to.”
“Promise?” Ei hugged her back. Nobody could make her feel safer in the entire world.
“I promise. I won't leave you.”
And she wouldn’t.