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Ena.
That was the first thought on Mafuyu’s mind when she woke up. Surprisingly so. And yet not, at the same time. She had found herself dreaming of Nightcord. Something about hanging up from the call and immediately going straight to bed had to do with it, she was sure.
A methodical and logical person Mafuyu Asahina was, and so this must have a reason. But why Ena? Was Ena the last one who had spoken on the phone last night? That would be the only reason. And it’s likely that they had bickered over something or other. But nothing that she remembered, not last night…
Perhaps she had dreamed of her. And dreamed of her, she had. It was a strange dream , she mused, as she had never seen Ena the way that she had in that dream. But she wouldn’t allow that to hinder her. She would not surrender her time to that ill-tempered girl.
She always woke up a little fuzzy, as if the day resetting made her look in the mirror and forget who she was. Putting on a facade left her feeling without a self, as if she woke up an empty mold to be filled. Filled of nasty things, she figured, like maggots and crumpled newspaper. Did everyone live like this?
Is this what I must do to become human-... Does Ena do this?
No, she wouldn’t, would she? Ena wears her feelings on her sleeve. Mostly negative. But her brain recklessly drifted back to the dream. It was weird seeing her there. Her face typically contorted into a scowl, looking softened, almost calm. At peace. Mafuyu thought she would only ever see her like that in her sleep. But there she was, smiling.
What could she have been smiling at?
Was she smiling at… me?
The real Ena would never. She could not imagine a world in which the two girls exchanged a smile. She kept an icy stare on her own face, and Ena a permanent grimace, a nose turned up, scrunched. And now Mafuyu was stumped. Her mind kept gravitating to Ena over and over again, not understanding why.
There was no chance of her pinpointing why. It’s not like emotions came easy to her. Thoughts and logic made sense to her. Hypotheticals, subjectives… it was too much.
And yet all she wanted to do in that moment was speak to her. She couldn’t, she couldn’t really. It was morning. Ena must be asleep. Knowing that made her feel strange. Unsure what kind of strange, she tried to work logically through it.
It must be because she hates me, I must be so pathetic to be so aware of her rhythm.
She wouldn’t do the same for me. And yet… it’s good to know, isn’t it?
She wonders briefly if she asks herself too many questions. Always unsure. Always in need of a little push in the right direction. She wondered if she would ever be able to let go. She also wondered if she would ever be able to decide…
Decide what ? What was she talking about?
Too much time had passed and she was sitting in the same place, doing nothing. It made her feel useless. It made her feel small. When she knew there was work to be done, and yet she was stuck here thinking about somebody who would barely give a second thought in her direction.
If Mafuyu were to ponder about her future, Nightcord haunted her. She knew what her duty was and what it meant to fulfill it. The future felt like duty. Obligation. Far from the carefree life she assumed that Mizuki lived. Yet strangely, her co-workers followed her in her mind.
A borderline fever dream of what it meant to continue to make music. It all came so hazily, and perhaps it was because she was still adjusting to the light of coming awake. Coming awake never truly felt like light to her, but instead an oppressive darkness. But when she felt the music overtake her, she felt free, if only for a moment. As if her life was a waltz, and this creation, this idea of what it meant to make music danced with her. It never lead, instead, just gently embracing her as she stepped.
She would never be able to dance freely. Not without weights on her ankles. Duty.
What worried Mafuyu the most, however, was that every future that she imagined, she could never part with the idea of living a life without Ena. She could never imagine a future without rolling her eyes at her bickering, her emoting loudly at the smallest things.
Perhaps, just perhaps, she was envious of Ena the same way that Ena was envious of her. Because, sure , Ena wasn’t born with the same talent she was–
Despite how much she truly appreciated Ena’s art.
But Ena, oh, Ena felt. She felt constantly. Seeing her feel, experience, made Mafuyu feel jealous. And she knew it was jealousy, as it was the same jealousy painted on Ena’s face.
She balled her fists. The jealousy she felt was overpowering. She has all of these spare emotions, not a single one spared for her, and yet she greedily spends them over and over again on negativity, on hatred, on comparing herself to others. What a rotten girl she must be, to have all of it and put it to waste.
Didn’t she know how lucky she was?
Still. She could never say that to Ena. She could never bring herself to do it. Though she felt her heart turn poison at the thought of her being so wasteful, she could never tell Ena how she felt.
Because if she told Ena how she felt, she would reject her, turn her away, mock her…
What was she talking about? This isn’t what she was thinking about at all.
And yet her mind kept gravitating back to that. The idea that Ena would reject her. Reject what , exactly, Mafuyu had failed to acknowledge. She didn’t ever see herself acknowledging what she wanted to tell Ena, not ever.
Seriously, she had to work. Too much time had elapsed.
Mafuyu’s phone lit up. A new message.
She powered it off.