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When Makoto’s head rolls onto Yuzuki’s shoulder, Yuzuki’s heart stops.
She stares straight ahead, back ramrod, pulse fluttering in her throat, like the butterflies in her stomach have gotten tired of staying contained and want to get out.
Makoto’s breath is warm against Yuzuki’s neck, her hair tickling Yuzuki’s skin. Her glasses press awkwardly against her face. Still staring ahead, trying not to call attention to them, Yuzuki slowly takes them off, brow furrowing as she tugs gently. Makoto’s eyes pinch at the movement before smoothing further.
Yuzuki gazes at her. Streetlights flash through the window as the bus trundles towards home, and Makoto’s face is illuminated by them in intervals. Her cheek is squished into Yuzuki’s shoulder, her expression utterly at peace.
She’s beautiful.
Something nameless and expansive fills in Yuzuki’s chest. She’s felt it before in…other situations, but not so strong. Not so urgent and whole, not so demanding of her attention.
There is a name for that feeling. But Yuzuki isn’t ready to say it yet.
She jerks her gaze away, cheeks hot, and looks around the bus.
As always happens on a return from a school trip, most of the other students have fallen asleep to the gentle swaying of the bus, exhausted from the excitement of the day. Mika has gotten lucky enough to get her own seat, and Yuzuki sees that she’s listening to music, her gaze faraway as she stares out the window at the winding road ahead.
In the row beside her, Mitsumi is passed out on Shima’s shoulder, drool starting to slip out of her mouth. Yuzuki hides a grin as Shima’s expression alternates between slightly-grossed-out and overwhelming, unadulterated affection. He reaches up and pushes Mitsumi’s hair back from her face. Mitsumu grunts something, then shoves her entire face into Shima’s chest. He laughs, cheeks glowing even in the darkness of the bus, and lifts his arm to pull her closer so that she can rest her head fully on Shima’s chest.
Mitsumi returns to snoring, a smile on her face. Shima’s gaze is soft, wondrous, like he can’t believe this is happening.
Yuzuki’s chest hurts for a different reason—but one that’s the same. The way Shima is looking at Mitsumi is familiar, recognizable down to her very bones.
Yuzuki can’t help it. She looks down at Makoto again, still and warm against her. Tentatively, tenderly, Yuzuki brushes her hair away, fingers hovering above Makoto’s cheek for just a moment before she drops her hand.
When Yuzuki looks up again, Shima is staring right at her.
The warmth in Yuzuki’s chest dies as her blood turns to ice. She almost pushes Makoto away, then stops herself, fists clenching by her side. Calm down, she tells herself, fighting back her panic. Calm down. He doesn’t know anything.
Shima’s eyes are shrewd, and all of a sudden, Yuzuki remembers that though they’ve never really talked, she and Shima are very, very similar. They’ve both been chased by people for most of their lives. They’ve both been on the receiving end of unwanted affections and calculating friendships. They have similar personalities.
If anyone else had caught her—and Yuzuki hates thinking of it as being caught, hates that she’s so uncertain and afraid—Yuzuki wouldn’t be as worried. But Shima…
Yuzuki’s heart thunders in her ears as she holds Shima’s gaze. Shima’s gaze drops to Mitsumi, and then flicks to Makoto.
Then, he smiles.
And his smile—it’s wry, tender. Understanding. Seeing. Knowing .
Look at us, his smile says. Aren’t we lucky?
Yuzuki’s eyes sting, her breath shaky. She blinks back her tears, thankful for the relative darkness.
Slowly, she smiles back.
Shima holds her gaze for a second longer, then drops it. He settles back against the window, arm still around Mitsumi.
Yuzuki swallows. She takes a few deep breaths, waiting out the remaining panic-induced adrenaline, then sits back.
There’s still almost an hour until they’re back at school. Yuzuki shifts closer to Makoto, looks at her again. She imagines being able to put her arm around Makoto like Shima had around Mitsumi. She imagines being able to hold Makoto close. To touch her. To…to…
Yuzuki’s face burns again as she looks away from Makoto’s lips. Her eyes fall to Makoto’s hand, which sits in the space between their bodies, half on her own lap and half on Yuzuki’s.
Yuzuki closes her eyes. She thinks of the safety on this bus right now, no eyes on her. She thinks of Shima’s quiet support, the way she knows he’s paying attention in that distant way of his. She thinks of that feeling in her chest, the way that some part of her feels like she and Makoto are the only two people in the world in this moment, the places they touch burning like a brand.
She steels her courage and slowly, carefully, links her pinkie around Makoto’s.
Like Makoto’s smile, it’s warm.
Yuzuki breathes, in and out. In and out. In and out.
For the rest of the ride home, she soaks in the moment and hopes for it to last forever.