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An outwardly calm Mafuyu finds herself waiting in front of the local mall, staring absent-mindedly at the ground, waiting. Outwardly being the keyword. She picks and scratches at the frilly edges of her new dress in an attempt to ground herself.
She’s not sure it's working.
The discomforting feeling of wearing it continues to build up in her chest as a constant dull buzz making her hyper aware of every little sensation. It buzzes like an unattended landline phone, ringing out, calling out, purposefully trying to make its presence overtly known, even with no one intending to answer.
The garment itself feels almost too tight in some places, especially her torso, almost restricting in a way, like coils. In an attempt to conceal it Mafuyu reaches to button up the thin jacket she decided to wear over it.
She remembers how her mother came into her room with the dress earlier today. The way she immediately beckoned Mafuyu over to her to see how it would fit her dear daughter.
‘Oh, this is a wonderful way to show off your femininity, Mafuyu.’
‘Won’t you wear it while you're out?’
‘You look so, so pretty.’
She can still hear the words ringing in her ears.
Always assuming and pushing and yet Mafuyu couldn't bear to fight back. Not against her. Even if deep down she longed for nothing more than to loosen those strings that had gotten oh so tight around her joints, nearly cutting off the blood flow.
Hence, her solemnly standing here now wearing that god-forsaken dress like a dolled up mannequin trapped behind a store window.
Now, as far as she could remember, she never felt very strongly about dresses in the past but this one felt repulsive to wear. The texture of the fabric rubbing against her, her skin, it made her feel so off. Any longer in this thing and she might just rip it off—
She suddenly feels a tap on her shoulder and stiffens in surprise. Did she really spend so long thinking about a dress?
Mafuyu doesn't have any time to continue her trail of thought before a voice chirps up next to her.
"Hey, hey, Mafuyu! You alright?" Mizuki smiles attentively at her. The two had planned to meet here at the mall after Mizuki had invited her to a so-called “mall date.”
Mafuyu had expected the other to invite someone like Ena for such an occasion but they insisted on hanging out with Mafuyu. They lamented as much over voice call. Desperately “wanting to find out more about her, specifically.”
"I'm fine," Mafuyu replies emptily. Certainly not the truth but it's hard to tell with her usual poker face. Though it seems nothing can get past Mizuki, as their mouth forms into a frown. Their eyes flick to the cause of Mafuyu’s inner distress.
"Is that dress new?" Mentally they take a tiny step forward, trying to ease into it, scanning over Mafuyu’s facial features for some kind of reaction or sign.
Mafuyu pauses for a moment, then nods. “My mother got it for me,” she scratches her nails against the fabric.
To Mizuki, the reaction is rather clear-cut, so they back off. They’ve always been particularly good at recognizing a person’s feelings based on even the subtlest facial expressions, even if Mafuyu (usually unintentionally) makes that a bit tricky at times.
But, they also know what it’s like to get pushed just a bit too far about things that may not need any addressing. Mizuki knew that Mafuyu’s mother was a sore subject, just from the few things they’ve seen and heard of her.
Ever since Mafuyu stopped putting up her façade around 25-ji, Nightcord de., Mizuki felt as though they were two kindred spirits (or more like two sides of the same coin), even if Mafuyu may not share that sentiment. Whatever it may be, they wanted to stay by her side, find out more about her, really understand her.
"Do you wanna go inside?" They ask softly.
Mafuyu nods in response. Anything to get her mind off of this. Mizuki perks up at this with a smile as they turn to the entrance. They push the door open with one hand, reaching over to somewhere Mafuyu doesn't really pay attention to with the other and—
Oh.
They have rather warm hands, Mafuyu remarks.
That warmth spreads from their now intertwined hands through Mafuyu's entire body, leaving her a bit frazzled internally but not in a bad way. She notices her cheeks feel a bit warm too. This… is a rather new feeling to her.
Sure, lately things haven’t been so outright draining like in the past, and thanks to Kanade’s song she’s even found herself smiling more. More pieces of the puzzle are being discovered day by day and she's slowly getting more and more fond of the warmth in her chest that periodically appears. But this specific feeling was a wholly new experience.
Feeling anything at all tends to be much too overwhelming for her at times but whatever this is, is definitely preferable to that past wave of pure emotion that made her wish to simply reject any sort of it. No, this feeling nestles itself in her as a kind of gentle comfort. Nothing more, nothing less.
She squeezes Mizuki's hand tightly.
They turn their head to Mafuyu in a silent show of acknowledgement, who then returns a small smile.
Mizuki can’t help but grin.
❦
Their first stop is a boutique, à la typical Mizuki. Frills, ruffles, ribbons and pearls. Mafuyu can’t see herself wearing clothes like these and actually taking pleasure in it (tip: the abomination she’s wearing right now) but seeing Mizuki, completely in their element, takes her mind off of it.
At least somebody's enjoying themselves.
A muddled cacophony of ohh’s and hmm’s sounds out from next to Mafuyu as her eyes focus on her friend’s face, assuming they’re addressing her. Mizuki seems rather preoccupied though, staring intently at two copies of the same dress. They hold up the one in their left hand.
“This one has more of a typical cutesy vibe, which is what I usually go for anyway,” Mizuki mutters under their breath, just loud enough for it to be audible before lifting up the other, “But this one has that fresh, elegant cuteness to it, which I’ve always wanted to try out,” they pout, lip jutting out, clearly deep in thought.
Turning to Mafuyu, their brows furrow, while peering deep into the other’s eyes, “Hey, which one do you prefer?” They say earnestly.
Mafuyu stares blankly. Are they not the same dress? Mizuki’s eyes don’t falter.
After a second-long staring contest, Mizuki takes it as a request to let them show off their modeling skills. Mizuki holds up the apparently more elegant dress up to their body, striking a pose akin to something you’d see on Ena’s social media feed.
“The Graceful Lady Amia,” they wistfully smile at the distance. What are you looking at? “or Cutesy Mizuki Next Door?” Finishing it off with a hasty switch to the other dress, they throw up a peace sign. If Mizuki were in an overly romantic shoujo manga right now, there’d surely be sparkles all around them.
They deliver the performance with the sincerity of that one blond eccentric from Kamiyama that Ena sometimes whines about, so sincere in fact, that Mafuyu can't tell if they're being dense, or simply incredibly dedicated to a bad joke.
“That's two of the same dress,” Mafuyu deadpans.
Mizuki’s face falls and they sputter. “They’re totally different!”
They then proceed to shove both of the dresses into Mafuyu’s face, as if that makes the “difference” any more evident.
“Okay, look: this shade is warmer, which makes the person wearing it seem more friendly and approachable, while this shade is like something you’d see a pretty, intimidating model on a magazine cover wearing!”
They hurriedly tap their finger on the corresponding dresses while explaining. “I mean, maybe to the untrained eye, it’s not as obvious but they’re still— really different…”
“Pfft.”
The unfamiliar sound escapes Mafuyu’s mouth, her lips very subtly upturned, so much so that she doesn’t even notice it herself.
Mizuki abruptly trails off mid ramble until the two of them are left wordlessly staring at each other, only the peppy boutique music quietly playing breaking the silence. Mizuki’s eyes get wide for a moment, jaw dropped, the light shade of pink tinging their face being the cherry on top. A picture perfect deer in the headlights expression.
“You—”
“That’s… kind of silly,” Mafuyu cuts them off suddenly, leaving both of them to clumsily talk over each other for a good second. “I really can’t see any difference between the two, though, so I doubt I’m any help.”
That seems to shut Mizuki up, as they simply gaze at the other for a bit. Eventually wildly shaking their head, similarly to a wet dog, they look back down to the dresses.
“Yeah! It’s fine,” an awkward laugh passes through the air. “I’ll just decide by myself, no problem!” They announce with finality before rushing away, the twin dresses fluttering behind them as they retreat.
So, while Mizuki continues to compare the two practically identically colored dresses, in a corner, Mafuyu settles for thoughtlessly staring into the distance.
Coincidentally, her eyes land on a smaller section of the boutique that doesn't fit with the rest of the interior. It’s a bit farther away and she doesn't have her glasses, nor contact lenses on her, so Mafuyu squints, in a fruitless attempt to see.
Mainly big whitish blobs, probably dresses, lined up next to each other, dotted with a few different color variations like red or light blue. She can’t really tell anything apart other than those few blurs of color.
“Are you looking at the wedding section?” Mizuki suddenly pops up from behind her, seemingly fine after their previous state of distress.
“Is that what it is?” Mafuyu turns to them, unsquinting her eyes. “I don’t have my glasses with me, so I can't really tell.”
“Yeah, it’s June after all, just the right season for this stuff,” Mizuki smirks, stuffing both dresses into a bag. “Wanna check it out?”
“Sure.”
❦
“Ooh! Mafuyu, look at how pretty these wedding gowns are!” Mizuki gushes, pulling at Mafuyu’s sleeve as she just lets herself get pulled along.
“Just imagine getting married some day and wearing one of these!” They squeal. Staring at the dresses for a moment, Mafuyu admits that they are rather pleasing to the eye, now that she gets a closer look at them.
But, as she reflects on Mizuki’s words, she hits a bit of a wall.
Imagining something like that, almost feels like playing into her good girl persona. The one that everyone expects of her. The one that listens to whatever her mother says. The one that will reluctantly play along with the strict life plan given to her. It feels like pushing herself back into that mold, just like giving up.
“Mafuyu?”
She looks to Mizuki, with their bouncy, wild strawberry blonde hair and endearing face. Their gentle eyes, their soft hands, the faint freckles dotting their nose… Not to mention their sweet personality, surprisingly caring actions, and the fact they make for rather good company. Despite making stupid jokes and acting rather unserious at times, that’s hardly a major flaw.
Someone like that…
“You would look good in a wedding dress,” Mafuyu thinks out loud, earning an embarrassed chuckle and elbow nudge from the other.
Something in her chest lights up, she thinks.
“Mafuyu, geez, at least take me out to dinner first…” Mizuki tries to joke. The fact they awkwardly try to cover their face with their hair betrays their words. After a short recovery they grab one of the try-out dresses hanging on the nearby rack and pull it in front of them, body language changing along with it.
They’re going for another one of their performances.
Mizuki places their free hand on their chest dramatically, as they initiate extreme eye contact with Mafuyu, practically staring right through her. “Oh, dearest spouse of mine, may we stay together in sickness and in health…”
Only able to stay in that position for a few seconds while Mafuyu just stares, they stumble and break into another fit of laughter.
Mafuyu thinks. Still staring.
She turns away for a moment, suddenly occupied with something which leaves Mizuki mildly confused. They’re about to tap the other on the shoulder until Mafuyu turns back around suddenly.
“I do.”
A gasp falls out of Mizuki’s mouth.
Mafuyu stands there with an expression somehow even more earnest than it usually is around their circle. You could practically imagine over-dramatic focus lines floating around her. (Read: it was pretty easy for Mizuki to.)
But, no, that wasn’t the part that stunned Mizuki, not at all. What surprised them was the fact that a suit typically meant for the groom was pulled in front of her totally contrasting, soft and feminine outfit.
A small thought pops up in their mind.
They're unable to truly bring it into form though, when a startled laugh racks through their body. With a frankly quite embarrassing wobble they plummet to the ground, continuing to cackle. Rather quickly Mafuyu appears at their side, peering down into their eyes.
They both gaze at each other for a moment, Mizuki trying their hardest to stop laughing, ultimately failing and shutting their eyes.
“I doubt that’s what you’re supposed to do at a wedding,” Mafuyu says sardonically. The laughing fit continues. “Are you alright?” Looking back into the girl’s eyes again, Mizuki finally quiets down before speaking.
“Yeah, fine, thanks,” They say as they scramble their way back to a normal standing position, any longer and other customers might stare. Mafuyu grabs their shoulders to steady them.
This definitely doesn't affect Mizuki in any way, shape, or form, by the way. They're not avoiding returning the intense stare fixed right on their face, nor the girl’s unusually strong grip, no sir.
Just as Mizuki is starting to imagine their future together, married and unimaginably in love, Mafuyu speaks up again.
“The clothes are all on the floor, by the way,” she says.
Silence.
“Right.”
❦
For an awkward minute or so, the two teenagers simply sit on a pair of nearby seats, still in the wedding section, no words exchanged, just Mizuki sneaking occasional glances to the other.
With the dress and suit all put away orderly, logically there's no reason left to stay. Mizuki would have already offered to leave together a long time ago, if that small thought they had earlier wasn't currently picking at their mind like a pigeon to a bread crumb.
They really wanted to address it with Mafuyu, though in hindsight, it was a bit of a weird thing to start yapping about after a minute of solid silence. It might even cause their mall date to end way too early. And rather poorly at that.
Well, better sorry than safe, wait that's not it—
“Hey,” which receives a turn from Mafuyu. And damn it, they’re in too deep now. C’mon, go for it, Mizuki!
“Why did you pick a suit?” Mizuki’s voice stays steady as they start, even as Mafuyu tilts her head in confusion.
“What do you mean?” She questions back.
Mizuki looks up at the ceiling and gestures vaguely with their hands, carefully trying to form the words in their head.
“What I’m saying is that you could have picked a dress instead. But you didn't.” They swallow dryly. “I was just wondering if there was a reason for that. Since you looked like you thought about it pretty extensively,” the last sentence comes out a bit shaky, as if trying to explain themself.
Mafuyu blinks at Mizuki, and then looks down, seemingly pondering the question. The silence returns, thickening. But that tension between the two eases out once she answers.
“It just felt right.”
Mizuki's gaze softens.
Now it's their turn to ponder. Mafuyu waits patiently for a response, repeatedly gliding her fingers across the smooth fabric of her dress. Mizuki roughly follows her hands movement, remarking on it.
“Do you think you like it?” The words hang in the air for a few seconds.
“Or, well, them. Suits,” they add on haphazardly.
“Maybe,” Mafuyu softly hums. “I would have to actually wear one to be sure.”
Mizuki hums as well, an idea beginning to take shape in their mind. “We could try one out, if you’d like,” they suggest, the starting fragments of a grin forming on their face.
“Really?” Mafuyu almost whispers.
“If you can find something that you truly like, it’ll be worth it.” Mizuki speaks from the heart.
“And even if you don't, that's still one step closer to figuring yourself out, right?” They lean their head towards Mafuyu in a placating gesture.
The girl nods.
❦
“Ready when you are!”
“You can come in, if you want.”
“You sure?”
“I’m not changing anymore, so it's fine. I haven’t looked in the mirror yet, I’d like to see it with you.”
“If you say so.”
Mizuki pulls the curtain aside with a swift movement of their hand, closing it as soon as they step inside the changing room. Flicking their eyes up, they almost bump their nose against Mafuyu’s chin with how cramped it is. Stepping back a little, they look over the other’s new outfit.
“You look nice,” Mizuki gives them a smile.
Mafuyu blinks, not seeming to quite process the compliment, as her eyes make their way to the floor. She stays quiet.
The feeling of something pulling on the bottom edge of Mizuki’s sleeve is so faint, they might as well be imagining it. But, as they peek down, they’re greeted with the sight of Mafuyu’s fingers gently grasping it.
In a silent question, Mizuki looks back up, over the other’s shoulder to the mirror behind her, and then back to the girl's face.
An affirmative mumble comes out of Mafuyu’s mouth before she decides to turn around, letting go of the sleeve.
Standing directly behind her gives Mizuki a perfect view of her reflection. In the glass they see how something brightens in Mafuyu’s eyes, like she’s having a moment of clarity. To a stranger it may look like nothing changed at all, but Mizuki can tell.
Though their eyes are focused on the other, it almost feels like seeing a younger self.
Something warm blooms simultaneously in both of them.
It feels like really, truly seeing yourself for a moment, doesn’t it? Imperfect, maybe, but closer to anything you’ve seen of yourself before.
Mafuyu places a hand on her chest. Pulls on the tie a little. Fumbles around with the collar. And finally drops her hands to her sides.
It was comfortable. Comfortable in a way she hadn't felt in a long time. It was like finally bursting out of an old stuffy cocoon, the long overdue butterfly spreading its wings and enjoying its first taste of freedom. For just a moment, her life felt as if it were no longer dictated by somebody else.
“I like it.” She murmurs and looks to Mizuki for confirmation.
A full grin spreads across their face as they place a hand on her shoulder, letting it slowly evolve into a back hug, their head gently placed on Mafuyu’s shoulder.
“Seriously? That’s great!” In return, Mafuyu’s lips form into one of her subtle little smiles, the blink-and-you’ll-miss-it kind.
Looking back into the mirror, she brushes over the dark suit with her hands. When she sees that dress hanging behind her in the reflection, her mind comes to a harsh conclusion that creeps up her spine like a skittering bug.
Her mother would never accept something like this, would she?
Her smile slowly fades.
Mizuki has been trailing her movements with their gaze all the while and a bit of panic sparks up in them, noticing the change instantly.
“I won't be able to wear suits often, you know?” It comes out in a low, hesitant voice.
Mizuki raises their head.
“I know what you said, but,” she adds in a hushed tone. Releasing a breath she had unwittingly been holding, Mafuyu’s expression withers further, unable to continue.
Hurriedly stepping in front of her, Mizuki gently places their hands on Mafuyu’s forearms, blocking her view of the mirror, seemingly for naught though, as she lowers her head anyway.
“Hey, Mafuyu—”
Their hand twitches. They consider reaching for Mafuyu’s face to cup her cheek. However, they force that thought down along with the hand.
“I don't want to be forced to act like— like this different person,” her voice cracks, grabbing for the thin lace lining the bottom of Mizuki’s top.
Their eyes fog up.
“I know,” Mizuki blurts out, dazed.
“All I want is to find myself,” she says.
“I know,” it slips out again, spilling out of them like a leaking faucet.
“I can’t keep going like this,” another cry comes out.
“I know, I know, I know,” and for the third, fourth, and fifth time.
“You do,” it’s simply stated as a fact and Mafuyu doesn't push any further than that. She does understand, after all.
❦
They leave the store with one bag. Two dresses. One suit. A secret agreement now between Mizuki and Mafuyu.
Their mall date takes its final bow as they make their way to the nearby café which has oddly similar aesthetics to the boutique. After finding a suitable spot, the two take their seats, opposite to each other.
Once the waitress walks over to their shared table, Mizuki orders a large, sparkly, over-accessorized strawberry parfait along with an inexplicable side of fries, making the order entirely mismatched. As she usually would during 25-ji, Nightcord de.’s afterparties at the diner, Mafuyu settles for a simple cup of black tea, no additives.
(If Mizuki sees Mafuyu's judging glare whilst they list their order, they don't say anything.)
One may think the atmosphere between the two circle members to be rather heavy now, that they’re itching to part ways at this point. That's what Mizuki may have thought beforehand, were they not currently still sitting across from Mafuyu, their greatest worry being if perhaps the cherry parfait had been a better choice. Hopefully not, or else that would be a major waste of money. This place is actually rather expensive.
But of course, that's not the truth. Mizuki had let out much more about themselves than they ever planned to in the little time they spent inside of the changing room. The distance they had been trying to keep between them and the others was broken. They had gotten too close.
Mafuyu knew the bare minimum from when she asked about their motives, that she had ‘nothing to worry about’. Mizuki’s sure she's aware now that their feelings for her run a bit more personal than that. She knows.
The thought makes them feel queasy but looking at it realistically, the girl hadn't shown any disapproving signs. Besides, why would she? There's no reason for her to, especially when it's something she understands right at that moment. No need to worry. Not at all.
They try to convince themselves that they’ve calmed themselves down sufficiently once the waitress comes back with the exact items that were ordered. She chirps out a cheery ‘Enjoy your meal!’ before leaving the two teenagers back on their own.
Mizuki finally fixes their eyes back on Mafuyu. They hadn't been actively talking since they left the boutique, instead indulging in a comfortable quiet with nobody forced to speak.
The girl looked a little worse for wear but who could really blame her after what happened barely 20 minutes ago? Mizuki’s gaze is returned, as Mafuyu raises her head from the freshly brewed tea, letting out a content exhale. Her mood itself seems to have mildly improved, at the very least.
Mafuyu’s index finger unravels from her clenched fists, pointing over her cup, letting the steam lick at it like flames, over to the much too tall parfait that Mizuki had been neglecting to give even the tiniest bit of attention to.
“Are you going to eat that or not?” Her voice comes out somewhat hoarse. Mizuki chuckles in response. “What, do you want it? I didn't take you for the type to have a sweet tooth, you know,” the banter flows out of their mouth like it's their sense of life.
“You know I don't,” the expected answer comes, dull blue eyes glinting behind a steam fog.
“I do,” Mizuki smiles fondly, finally raising their spoon to pick out the big fruit chunks stuck in the heaps of whipped cream.
Putting the fog source, the cup, to her lips, Mafuyu takes another sip of her seemingly boiling black tea, only to set it back down, even more steam clouds generating from it.
“Geez, how hot is that thing? It’s been boiling for like five solid minutes!” Mizuki exclaims apprehensively, making their way down the parfait with their trusty spoon, as if climbing down a ladder.
Mafuyu follows the piece of cutlery with her eyes, before looking down at the would-be dark pool of tea rippling in her cup, and the would-be clear reflection only faintly in view, small clouds puffing up in her face.
“Hmm. My tongue was feeling a bit tingly.”
“I could never handle something that hot,” Mizuki jitters, stuffing a whole strawberry in their mouth. “I can only ever drink tea during the winter, if at all.”
Still peering into the cup’s murky void, Mafuyu’s blank stare begins to reflect on the surface, as the steam slowly lessens and the tea cools down.
“Iced tea,” she mumbles.
“Isn't it called ice tea?” Their eyes flick up and their parfait handiwork slows to a halt.
“There's a difference,” Mafuyu insists.
Mizuki leaves it at that, only humming in response, likely just planning to google it once they went home, and going back to their careful parfait-deconstruction.
Finally lifting her eyes up from the now lukewarm tea, Mafuyu looks to the crinkly bag sitting at Mizuki's feet, then up to the person themself.
Taking a moment to scan over their features while they’re now distracted with dipping the nearly forgotten fries in their dessert, she takes note of the few freckles sprinkling their button nose.
Sometimes Mizuki teases Ena for technically being ginger along with her little brother, despite having more of a typical ginger look than her. Whenever Mafuyu addresses this they always insist that being ginger is a mindset, then proceed to list all of Ena’s major traits while giggling.
Flicking over from their nose to their eyes, Mafuyu’s view is filled with thick eyelashes veiling their rosy eyes, signature pink lash growing out from the middle. Silently, Mafuyu wonders if it's eyeliner of some sort or somehow natural. She’s not experienced enough with make-up to be able to tell.
Lastly, their hands. Neatly cut nails, painted with care and painstakingly decorated with (what Mafuyu assumes had to be) patience. If she has to guess, the hands themselves are just a bit smaller than Mafuyu’s.
The warmth that came from them while the two had their hands bound together earlier surely made up for it. She hadn't been paying attention to the size of their hand, much too caught off guard.
Thinking about that again lifts a leftover weight from Mafuyu’s heart.
“Hey,” she suddenly calls, surprising even herself.
Snapping their head up from the formerly-strawberry-now-turned-fry-parfait Mizuki makes a vague noise of acknowledgement.
“Thank you.”
Their entire body language softens at that. The two simply look at each other, something unreadable in Mizuki's eyes.
“Of course,” is the answer that comes after a long wait.