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The world has been slipping out of place ever since Mion graduated, Satoko thinks. Everything is slipping and spiraling and shifting, and she used to think that if she just held onto Rika’s hand, it would be alright, but even Rika is changing, and she has to grip her hand tightly and run and run and run, trying to catch up, trying not to be swept away and be dragged away from Rika. Satoko just wants to stay by her side. Rika is precious to her, so she can’t be left behind. She refuses to be left behind.
She doesn’t get why Rika is captivated by St. Lucia. She’s seen the pictures too - Rika fell in love the moment she saw them, even Rena thinks it’s “kyute” - but she just doesn’t see the appeal. Hinamizawa is safe, warm, familiar, in a way. Maybe Satoko’s been hurt a lot here, but… but… it’s where she’s always been. It’s where the club used to have so much fun, all of them together. It’s where she lives with Rika in a nice, safe house that belongs to both of them and both of them alone, their own private space that no one else can touch. There are old traps in the mountains that Satoko knows every inch of. She knows every scratch in the desk she’s used her whole life, every floorboard in the school she’s grown up attending.
The people used to be mean, and she knew their names and faces to know who to avoid and who would tolerate her, but that’s changed - and for once, it’s a good change, a happy change. Slowly, people are treating her nicely now. Old ladies remark on how cute she looks in her new uniform, and when she’s struggling with a heavy bag of groceries, fathers will offer to help her carry things part of the way home. There’s an acknowledgement of her presence, of Houjou Satoko as a person and not an enemy, as a resident of Hinamizawa, as a child and as someone to be protected and loved and cared for instead of a traitor to be shunned. And… Satoko likes that. Maybe she still remembers how those old ladies used to ignore her, how those fathers would look away when Satoko would trip and fall. Those memories won’t fade easily. But… she wants to get used to this. She wants to stay here, in Hinamizawa, and soak in these precious feelings and this precious new world.
But Rika doesn’t want that. And as much as Satoko loves Hinamizawa’s warmth, she knows she’ll be burned by it without the coolness of Rika’s hand. So she studies with Rika, every day, every night. She makes her fingers and her head ache from it, and exchanges every hour of play for the sake of being able to stay with Rika. In return, Rika gives her bright, beautiful smiles, sweeter than the free parfaits at Angel Mort that Shion always gives her whenever she visits. Rika makes her head spin worse than when she eats those parfaits too quickly, makes her tongue twist up and her hands sweat and her heart pound and her entire being is Rika’s, really. She’s only able to be here because of Rika. Without Rika, Satoko knows that she’s useless. Without Rika, Satoko knows that she’d be dead.
Rika was the one who always stood up for her. Rika was the one who always looked after her. Rika was the one who did the most to make her smile again, when Satoko thought that there wasn’t anything left for her to do but to die. Because without Satoshi in the world, because even Satoshi had abandoned her, she didn’t… know how to live. She was a worthless person that could only live so long as someone was supporting her. But even so, but even despite that, Rika had saved her. Rika, who was loved by everyone, had saved Satoko, who was hated by everyone.
So Satoko is alive to be by Rika’s side. Maybe it’s selfish, she thinks to herself some nights, Rika leaning against her half-asleep from too much studying. And yet, she continues on like this anyway. Rika wants her by her side, and Satoko wants to be by Rika’s side. So, as long as that continues to be true, there’s nothing wrong with Satoko being just a little selfish. After all, they’re best friends, aren’t they?
Every year, too, Rika becomes more beautiful. Rika has such a slender, petite figure, and Satoko’s sure that she could pass as several years younger than her age if she wanted, but instead with her natural elegance she merely looks even more mature, even more ladylike. And yet Satoko only grows more detestable every year. She looks in the mirror, at the way her chest is filling out and her body is curving, and she wants to cut it all off. She wants to stop time and make her body stop growing like this, stop remembering disgusting comments her uncle used to make about how she’d grow up to have so many boys chasing after her. She wants to be like Rika, who other girls admire and envy, who she admires and envies.
Rika is Satoko’s everything, the ideal she aspires to, the idol she worships, the person she loves. She really, really loves Rika. More than anything else. It’s enough that she’ll even leave Hinamizawa and all their friends and her big sister and her big brother to be with her, and she thinks that that’s a confession all on its own. Every example problem she solves that brings her one step further from home, every hour she spends studying instead of with Shion or her friends, every night she stays up late with Rika, all of them are her screaming, ‘I love you.’ But maybe it’s not enough for Rika, because Rika doesn’t seem to hear it. Rika doesn’t ever say ‘I love you’ back. Rika… doesn’t sacrifice anything for Satoko. They study together, and Rika helps Satoko study, but it’s not the same. It’s Rika’s dream. It’s not for Satoko.
They go to school together every day on their bikes, they cook together, they have classes together, they study together, they study together, they study together, they study together, they…
Satoko is tired. She’s… really, really tired. She’s a jumble and a mess of everything, and maybe part of that is because she’s growing up and everything’s changing and she can’t even hold onto Rika’s hand. She’s just chasing behind her, praying that she’ll catch up. She doesn’t understand Rika’s smiles, sometimes, when before she could read her heart so easily. She doesn’t understand the world anymore.
She was always told as a child that she’d understand this or that thing when she got older, but it’s always the opposite, she’s found. It’s always things becoming harder and harder for her to understand. Because she just wants to hear ‘I love you’ back. She just wants Rika to shower her with affection the way she did once, when she’d been desperate and broken and incapable of smiling and barely breathing. And maybe that’s a sickening thought and a disgusting wish, but Satoko isn’t fixed. She’s still broken, it’s just that the cracks are all glued up.
Right now, she’s lying in bed. It’s a Sunday, so she doesn’t have to get up. Rika still gets up early anyway, so that she can study. She likes studying even on Sundays. St. Lucia is her precious dream that’s more important to her than anything else. They’ve already been studying for over a year, and maybe Satoko’s supposed to be used to it by now, but… she’s not.
They stayed up especially late last night, but even so, Satoko is surprised to have her thoughts interrupted by the sounds of Rika shifting in her futon. It’s enough to make her open her eyes, to make her sit up and glance over. Rika’s restless, mumbling some nonsense to herself, and it takes a moment for her to comprehend it.
“Mii…” softly escapes Rika’s lips. “No, if Satoko can’t, I…” She lets out a shuddering breath, as if horrified even in her dream. “I won’t go… to St. Lucia…” Her fingers are weakly gripping the blanket, like she’s trying to hold onto Satoko. “Satoko… don’t go…” Her voice sounds so faint, so pitiful.
As if Rika really does love Satoko, too. As if Rika really does need Satoko the way Satoko needs her. As if Satoko is more important than Rika’s precious dream, Rika’s precious St. Lucia. Satoko can barely bear those thoughts, barely believe this proof, but it’s being handed to her so sincerely and softly and accidentally.
Her lips curl up into a smile, and she crawls over to Rika’s futon, into Rika’s blankets, wraps her arms around her. Rika is so much smaller and so much more fragile than her, like moonlight that is so easily eclipsed by the sun. So Satoko has to be gentle.
“It’s alright,” she murmurs, her voice low so as to not wake Rika up. “I’m here, Rika. I won’t leave you…”
Her eyes burn a little, tears trying to escape them. She really can’t imagine leaving Rika. Maybe she can at times imagine Rika leaving her, but… for now, those fears have all melted away. Rika needs her. Rika loves her too. So even if studying is terrible and awful, even if she has to abandon Hinamizawa and sacrifice all her free time and work herself to the bone, Satoko doesn’t care. For Rika, she’d do anything. So long as she can stay with Rika, she’d throw away everything else.
Rika relaxes, settles into Satoko’s embrace. They fit together, the girl made of moonlight and stardust and miracles and the girl made of sunlight and earth and determination. They always have and always will. Satoko wants Rika to be here forever, wants the rest of their lives to be this moment where Rika is nothing but hers and wants nothing but her, this moment where Satoko knows that Rika’s feelings for her are true with an unshakeable conviction.
But Rika will eventually wake up, will indulge in this for only a short time before she insists on studying again. Satoko is sure of it. For she understands even this new Rika better than anyone else. As much as Rika says that she wants to go to St. Lucia with Satoko, Satoko thinks that she’d be left behind if she didn’t study just as hard as Rika does, that Rika would forget all about her the moment she passes through St. Lucia’s gates and never return.
It’s an irrational, foolish fear. But Satoko is a fool whose heart is sick with love and whose being is pieced together by the few people she cares about and revolves around, so she can’t help it. Maybe she’s the sun, but she’s a paradoxical sun that’s trapped in the orbit of the moon, an unnatural, strange thing.
“Rika,” she whispers, even though the other girl is asleep, even though she doesn’t want to awaken her.
There’s so much in those two syllables alone. She wants to say Rika’s name over and over and over, to call her home, to keep her here. And, she wants to hear ‘Satoko’ back. She wants Rika to call her name like she’s happy to see her, like she’s proud of her. She’s tired of living off of crumbs from when Rika praises her while studying, from playful rivalry that masks just how difficult and painful and excruciating this is for her.
Satoko wants to be crushed by love, wants to drown in it even. She wants to suffocate on her overpowering floral scent, she wants to be blinded by her beauty, she wants to go hoarse from screaming it out, she wants to go deaf from Rika’s own cries. Satoko wants so, so much from Rika that it’s all she can do to say her name softly while she’s asleep, and pray that somehow her wordless, too-intense desires will reach her.
Surely, when they get into St. Lucia together, they’ll walk side by side, the hardships disappearing, and maybe even Satoko’s weird body won’t be bad. Maybe St. Lucia will have girls that don’t know anything about Houjou Satoko, the village enemy, and will like her and Rika both, without any darkness haunting their friendship.
And then… Rika will say it back, won’t she? Surely, Rika will pay back all of this, take her hand… and Satoko won’t have to play catch-up anymore…
Satoko is silently begging for those words that she cannot bring herself to say nor to ask for, that she screams out without opening her mouth, that she pleads for without making a sound. Those words that she wants from Rika and Rika alone, that are for Rika and Rika alone.
Rika is sleeping, and surely doesn’t hear Satoko’s thoughts. Satoko smiles, her eyes still burning with tears, and prays to the Oyashiro-sama that she’s sure is still watching over Rika, to grant her wish. She’ll make Rika happy, so please… grant her that chance. Let Rika somehow understand the unspoken truth of her heart:
I love you. (So don’t leave my side, Rika.)