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Iroha was never really that good at planning things out.
That was Kuroe’s realization as she loaded (what she thought was) the last of the boxes of things into the back of Iroha’s truck, with the girl herself fretting over something in the garage behind her. Iroha had had weeks in order to get everything packed, and instead she had put it off all until the last day, asking Kuroe to help her. She had said yes, of course. It was the least she could do… and probably the most, too.
“Where is it?” She said to herself, as she paced back and forth.
“What are you looking for?” Kuroe asked in response.
“I’m trying to remember where I left the box with all of my hair supplies…”
“Oh… that?” Kuroe said. “It’s already in there. It was one of the first things I packed, remember?”
“Really? Oh…” Iroha deflated, realizing that she had been working herself up for the past few moments over nothing. “Thanks, Kuroe.”
“Yeah… no problem.”
It was the last day they’d see each other for a long time. Iroha had been offered a scholarship to the University of California, Los Angeles, and after a lot of thinking, had decided to accept it. That meant uprooting herself from their small Michigan town and taking the drive, thousands of miles long, to California.
Kuroe wasn’t going to college, of course. She had told her parents that she was going to take a ‘break year’ and then figure something out, but she hadn’t even begun to think about what that ‘something’ was. Some dark nights, she thought that she might never.
Iroha was headed for great things. She wasn’t sure of it herself, her doubts coming out in late night talks over the phone, but Kuroe knew. Even if they hadn’t spent years together, having fun underneath the pine trees and scraping their knees on rocks, watching her best friend grow up into the most beautiful and intelligent person she knew and falling in love, she would know. Kuroe saw someone who was willing to brave the beyond, to head into a new world because she thought she saw something out there, even though she was scared. It was that kind of bravery that convinced her that no matter what happened, Iroha would always find a way to land on her feet.
She was nothing like Kuroe. Kuroe, who had never reached out for anything. Kuroe, who did not believe in a version of herself that could be different from the one she was now. Kuroe, who could not be brave. There was just too much between them that was different.
Kuroe knew that Iroha had always been worried about her. Whether she was falling just shy of clearing tests, or messing up at her gymnastics competition, or struggling with figuring out whatever she wanted, Iroha was there for her like no other. That was the problem…
Iroha walked in front of her, over to the driver’s door of her truck. “I guess I should probably get going, shouldn't I? It’s a long way to the first hotel in…”
“Des Moines.” Kuroe had helped Iroha pick out the place. The pink-haired girl had wanted to push on to Omaha for the first day, but had been convinced otherwise, with Kuroe concerned about her having to drive for that long.
“Yeah, Des Moines.”
It had always been “Iroha and Kuroe”. Ever since they were little, when they had met just because their parents had happened to bring them outside at the same time, and spotted each other from across the street. Throughout elementary and middle school, when teachers would call their names for attendance at the same time, because asking for one and then needing to think if the other would be there would be silly, like looking at the day and not being sure if the night would follow in its footsteps.
In high school, it was still “Iroha and Kuroe”, but different. It was never something they drew attention to; there was no hushed confessions or anguished declarations. At some point, “Iroha and Kuroe” was one thing, and later, they realized that at some point, it had become something else. Nights spent out camping in the woods, Iroha dragging Kuroe out far past where she ever thought she would be comfortable, became nights spent indoors, curled up together under a blanket with interlocked fingers, watching a movie. Just as scary as the depths of the forest, and yet Iroha managed to ease her into it all the same. Sometimes, people at school would see them and gossip, about how they’d changed and who they’d become, but Iroha never worried about that. So, Kuroe had resolved that she wouldn’t, as well. But she was not as strong-willed as Iroha, and so no matter how much she pretended she didn't care what they said, sometimes she would lay awake at night and think about the things they might have spoken; phantom words that would never reach her ears.
“Well… uh…” Iroha started, before her voice fell off.
“Yeah…”
But now, it would have to be “Iroha and Kuroe” no longer. Iroha had promised that she would text her every day, but Kuroe knew the truth. Over time, those texts would slow down, and maybe even stop; Iroha’s life in California becoming much more important and immediate to her than anything back home, Kuroe included. Out of sight was out of mind, wasn't it? That was how it should be. That was what was best.
Iroha shook her head before getting in the truck and slamming the door. Only another moment passed before the door opened and Iroha jumped back out.
“Iroha?!” Kuroe’s voice rose as Iroha walked over to her and took her hands in her own.
“Come with me!” Iroha’s eyes were wide and her voice was earnest, with Kuroe surprised at the uncharacteristically passionate outburst.
“Huh?”
“We can figure things out later! Whatever you have going on here or whatever your parents are thinking or would think… we can handle those! But what I don’t think I can handle… is you not being there, Kuroe.”
“Iroha…”
“I… I wanted to pretend I wasn’t leaving. I wouldn’t pack for today because if I didn’t do that, I wouldn’t to think about today being the last time I would see you. But now today’s here, and I’m still not ready.”
Kuroe took a deep breath. She wanted to just say yes. To get in the passenger seat, without even thinking, without packing anything. To just go wherever life, and Iroha, who was her life, took her. But she knew that that dream could never be, because what would lay beyond it would only be a nightmare.
“I can’t, Iroha.”
Iroha’s hands dropped, as tears started to form in her eyes. “…Why? Why can’t you?”
“I don’t think I could make it there. It’s just… way too different from here.” Kuroe hoped that Iroha wouldn’t see the lie in her words, the inconsistency that revealed the true source of the hollowness that was eating her heart.
Kuroe could probably make it in California. She had no attachments to the life that she currently lived, no reason to hold onto what she had, when what she truly had was nothing. The only thing that she desperately wanted to hang onto was the thing that she knew she had to let go. The flame between was not gone. But to keep it alight, Kuroe would have to sacrifice both of them to the dancing blaze.
It was always “Iroha and Kuroe”. Never was Iroha allowed to stand on her own, with Kuroe the addendum alongside her. She had only as much value as imprecise, clumsy wordplay that only served to muddle the message of “Iroha”. Whatever dreams she had, there was no way that she’d be able to chase them every time she saw Kuroe in the same place as her, unable to imagine anything for herself. If you’re always looking back, you can’t find the way forward.
So, in the end, there was no place for her at Iroha’s side. Every minute that the love of her life spent fretting over her was a minute where she wasn’t free to be her own person, to spread her wings and fly. If Kuroe went with her, she might be happier now… but in however long, at the end of their lives, could Kuroe look Iroha in the face and accept what she had done to her? Anchored her to the ground and chained them together? Or would she simply have realized that her truest regret was her entire existence?
She couldn’t imagine going on forever like that, taking, with nothing to offer of her own. She couldn’t be like Iroha, who had given everything to her. Any solace that Iroha found in her company was simply the strength of Iroha’s own heart, finding a way no matter what was thrown at her. She could not be a beacon of light to her in her darkest moments, because no matter where Iroha was at, Kuroe was always one step lower.
The words that truly lay within her were ones that she could never say:
It’d be better for you if I didn’t, right?
Iroha waited for a moment, before falling forwards and collapsing into Kuroe, her body shaken by sobs she couldn’t deny, as arms wrapped around her.
Kuroe could only try her hardest to hold back her own tears.
Kuroe watched as Iroha’s red truck drove down the street slowly, as it was trying to trap her in the nostalgic, suffocating dream of their neighborhood, before it sped up and zoomed off, turning onto another road that she couldn’t see.
Her house was just across the street from Iroha’s, so it would only take about a minute to walk back home. But why hurry? It wasn’t like there was anything else she had to do.
After all, all she had left waiting for her was the rest of her life.