Chapter Text
When opening the doors into his backyard on a crisp fall morning—fluffy slippers meeting iced, dewy grass, black sky fading into the soft glow of a new day—Mizuki Akiyama wasn't expecting to step on a random person's arm. He also wasn't expecting the person—woman?—to be ass naked, unconscious, drooling, scratched up and muddy like the back of an off-road vehicle, sickeningly skinny, and/or still perfectly alive.
Screaming would certainly be a reaction to this. So would covering his eyes and letting out an incredibly awkward, dying animal-like noise as his ears went scarlet.
"Oh my god," he wheezed instead, turning a full 180. "Oh my god oh my god oh my god."
One brisk walk to the couch later, Mizuki was dropping a blanket blindly over the girl's body, not one coherent thought behind his wide, pale pink eyes. It landed over her torso with a fwump.
"H-hey?" Mizuki called, squatting on his slippers, bringing a hand to the stranger's shoulder and shaking. It was caked in wet dirt, the kind that made mizuki's mouth squiggle and the corners of his lips curl into themselves. "Hey, are you alright?"
A low groan escaped her lips. She lives! Mizuki sighed in relief as she stirred, bleary auburn eyes squinting, head groggily turning to face his. Those eyes made contact with Mizuki's—yep, probably noticing the tomato faced girl (assumption) in a stranger's backyard nowhere near home (assumption), with only a flamingo pink-and-white blanket keeping her from being exposed to earth's worst element, the early morning chill (fact).
"What the fuck...?" She mumbled. Then those eyes turned to saucers, shock smacked into her expression, panicked look exchanged between the two strangers. "FUCK, what the fuck!?"
She frantically grasped the blanket at her chest, tugging it around her bare body, making pissed off faces as she did it.
Mizuki had chosen to hold his hands over his eyes, and squeezed his eyelids shut under those hands just in case.
"Rough night," Mizuki joked—humor's the best form of defense?—but his voice edged with nerves and lacked the teasing tone that would make it a joke. The girl with her tits out didn't laugh, she rustled around and guffawed at him. He kept rambling to fill the silence. "It's okay, I get it! Parties and stuff. Lots of those this time of year, especially this close to the water. Tons! Lots and lots! Haha! That happens for sure, all the time, the beach and parties are things a lot of people enjoy, especially together—"
"This can't be happening." A shadow passed over Mizuki's face, which he assumed meant she was getting up. He followed suit, shuffling up from his criss-cross applesauce into a lanky-legged, stiff jointed stand.
"You're so right, none of this feels real~!" He needed to shut the fuck up, but that too wasn't happening. "Like, being alive is so weird, because things like this can just happen to you and it really feels like only you suffer that bizarre fate, huh! I'm Mizuki hehe do you have a name too?"
"Ena. And you can look now." Ena ignored his nonsense, thank all that was holy. Mizuki lowered his hand and instead cast his eyes to the ground, staring at her bare feet. A blade of grass stuck to her ankle. The flamingo blanket ended a little below her knees.
"I can't... I cant remember anything," Ena said. Her eyebrows pinched together like thinking hurt her. She was probably trying to remember the fuzzy details of her memory (assumption). "Jesus Christ..."
"You need to get some clothes," Mizuki stated, noticing the uncomfortable shifting of her bare feet on the lawn. It was cold as ice before the dew melted, Mizuki wore slippers for a reason. "My shower's all yours if you want it, too. Whatever I can do."
"Thanks," Ena sighed, hugging the blanket closer to her chest and stepping a little shaky towards the door. "God, I would die for a hot fucking shower right now."
Mizuki ushered them inside, harvesting a bundle of clothes for her to take into the bathroom. She was in, the water was running, and Mizuki had not a single idea of what to do with himself while the beat up stranger was showering in his house.
It's his day off, so no rush to get to work. He didn't have plans to prepare for, either. He didn't want to get dressed or do his makeup, that would be assholeish to do in front of her. He settled on stress cleaning the living room, tying his hair in a ponytail and organizing clutter scattered about the countertops. The vaccum even came out. The windex. A scented candle was lit to add some fresh touches. When Ena still wasn't out of the shower and he could see his reflection on every surface of the room, Mizuki made himself a bowl of cereal for comfort food.
He was chewing on Captain Crunch when Ena padded out in his socks, smelling like his fruity body wash, dressed in a baggy shirt and some sweats. There were traces of life in her eyes now, under the eyebags, dirt scrubbed clean off her body. She blinked at him, and her nose was scrunching up.
"Uh...are you burning something?"
Mizuki resisted the temptation to take another bite of Captain Crunch. "Just a candle. This place was a mess," he laughed, and realized he could get a good look at her for the first time. His eyes flicked over her body, seeing her thin cheeks and weighted eyes. Her elbows seemed red and dry. Her body barely held itself up. Ena looked exhausted.
"Trust me, I don't care." Ena was glancing around the room. Maybe the candle didn't smell good to her? She seemed to be distracted by it. "Well, whatever. Thanks for the shower. It ran out of hot water near the end, though."
"That's fine." So Mizuki would have to take an afternoon shower. He took a bite of his cereal, stalling before addressing the elephant in the room. "Did any memories come back to you? Or, if you want to share, you can talk about what's going on in your life."
"Honestly? Not a thing," Ena sighed, walking over to the couch and taking a seat. Mizuki stayed standing, leaning on the wall a few feet away. "My life is fine. It's just, I was... I don't know, partying, whatever, and now I'm here."
"This doesn't usually happen," Ena added while Mizuki absorbed her words. His disbelief must have worn on his face, because she kept defending herself. "I swear. It's a one time thing."
"I believe you," he lied. It was best not to press the subject. He wouldn't stress her out if he didn't need to. "Is there anything else I can do for you? Do you want something to eat?"
"No," she replied immediately, crossing her arms. It's cute how baggy the sleeves were on her shoulders. "I've taken enough from you. Just... maybe help me call a cab, and I'll get out of your hair."
Mizuki discarded his bowl in the sink and called in an Uber. He insisted on paying, which she begrudgingly had to accept, for lack of payment on her own end.
"Thanks, uh... Mizuki?" she said at the door. Her hair was almost dry at this point, the wet bob that clung to her face now light and fluffy. He wanted to style it so bad, it looked irresistibly fun to throw some accessories in! He kept his hands to himself, though, and waited for the Uber with her.
"Yeppers~" Mizuki smiled. They bantered for a bit about what to do with the clothes, which Ena insisted on returning. He caved and ran into the kitchen, scribbling his address on a sticky note, shoving it in her palm.
"In case you forget," Mizuki said. "Oh! Wait, and..." he snatched it back and put the note on his knee to scribble something else—his number. "Keep in touch, 'kay?"
"Thank you," Ena said again, looking at the paper, then at Mizuki. "I hate how nice your handwriting is."
"Is that a compliment?" He teased, elbowing her incredibly gently, like she would snap in half if he tapped too hard. "But seriously, text me."
"Maybe I should pass out in backyards more often, if a cute girl will fawn over me like this."
Flirt 100% effective. Mizuki stared at her, cheeks simmering then burning.
"Ah. UhjI. Iuh."
Ena snorted, and a car honk interrupted their moment. She looked like she wanted to say more, but another honk summoned her out the door, giving him a final wave before getting in the car.
And there she went. Like some naked human tornado, in and out. Mizuki stared blankly at his empty driveway and coughed, his face still burning. He walked to his couch and just sat there. Damn.
What a morning.