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It's getting late, judging from the way the sky has gone several shades darker than the faint purple it was when they left the live house. Bocchi checks her phone and sure enough, it's almost six.
She looks up, seeking out the stars, or at least what stars still persist with light pollution obscuring most of them. Which isn't that many. Just a handful of tiny scattered pinpricks of light, like the residual tiny shards of glass that her mom had to sweep carefully from the floor when Bocchi didn't manage to get all of them after trying to clean up the mess herself when she accidently dropped another glass for the-- she wasn't sure how many times she broke something at home by accident. But she's sure Futari kept count somehow. She could ask her later when she gets home except that would open up the topic of her breaking things by accident at a disturbing rate and the last thing she needs is another intervention like that time they got an exorcist to come to their house and--
Her mind skids to a halt when she's suddenly pulled to the side. She looks down at her arm where something warm is clinging to her and finds a hand holding her steady. The same one that abruptly pulled her in the first place.
"Sorrysorrysorry," comes Kita's voice. Oh right. Kita offered to walk with her.
The hand retreats as quick as it came. Kita gazes down at her shoes, her cheeks flushed, a strained chuckle escaping her lips. That's odd. She's standing very close but Bocchi's too confused to feel embarrassed by the proximity.
"You were about to hit that pole so I had to... do that." She gestures vaguely like she's miming how she'd grabbed Bocchi just now.
"Oh." Bocchi glances at the pole in question, then back to Kita. "Thanks."
They stand there. A nearby street light flickers twice. A car honks in the distance.
Shame finally catches up to Bocchi's brain and she shrivels up. She tries to laugh it off but it sounds like a wheeze to her ears and oh god she's making it worse isn't she. The urge to bang her head against the pole she narrowly avoided fills her now. She tapers it through the sheer willpower she gets from not wanting to humiliate herself even more.
Kita lets out a giggle. They're still standing awfully close to each other and her breath brushes Bocchi's cheeks lightly.
She can feel the tips of her ears grow searing hot.
This is how she's going to die then. Death by overheating, after blushing too hard because a girl is breathing too close to her face, and it should be illegal how even Kita's breath smells sweet but wait what? Why is she fixating on that detail like a fucking creep? Stop stop stop Kita's going to see through you and finally realize how weird you are and never want to have anything to do with you anymore and it would be so awkward and one of you would have to leave the band or you'll break up before you can even get your big break and it'll break Nijika's heart and you'll lose the first friends you lucked yourself out to having and your chances at being anything remotely successful as a musician will be crushed completely and and and --
She feels a sudden warmth again but this time it's draped across her shoulders, like a blanket. A hand is brushing up and down her arm, as though trying to comfort her, like what her dad used to do when she was younger.
Kita's soft giggle fills her ear. The distance between their faces is far enough this time for Bocchi not to feel Kita's breath on her, and Kita is looking ahead instead of at her and oh. They're moving now.
Kita's arm slides away from her shoulders but her hand finds Bocchi's. Her strides are steady and long, slower than Nijika's staccato but quicker than Ryo's languid glide. Bocchi manages to match her pace without panting or having to slow herself down.
Kita starts giggling to herself again. Bocchi would call it weird but she's not one to talk really and well, it's kinda cute. And she's distracted, and more than a little dazzled, by the occasional glances Kita throws her way.
It used to be overwhelming, it still is sometimes, but Bocchi's gotten used to Kita now. Would even go so far as to say that she's gotten to know her well, if she were presumptious enough to believe such a thing.
They make a turn and Kita glances at her again. The smile lingers a beat longer. Bocchi can't help but speak up this time. "W-what are you…?"
"It's nothing." Kita stops to fully turn to her. She looks flustered again. Must be a trick of the light, or an onset flu? "We should do this more often, Goto-san."
"Wha… huh?"
Kita shakes her head. Her loose hold on Bocchi's hand briefly tightens to a squeeze and that split-second was enough for Bocchi's heartrate to quicken a notch.
"Never mind," she says. "We'll practice again at school tomorrow?"
"Y-yeah, of course."
"Great! You're the best."
The smile Kita gives her then. It's the type that could make empires fall, or gain a hundred likes on social media if Kita were to take a selfie now and post it. This low but perfect light and the darkened background only emphasize how radiant Kita's smile is. It's aimed at her, and just her, and she quashes the urge to squint as she looks at it.
She wishes-- no, she wants to be bright enough to be worthy of it. She wants to, just as bad as she wants to be good enough to stand on a stage beside Kita and the rest of the band.
And it's a little scary, but very few things aren't scary to Bocchi, and this one scares her in a way that makes her want to…
Move forward instead of back. Better herself. Face a crowd when the last thing she wants to do is be perceived for what she is, but it's okay because she won't be alone. And what she is is probably not that bad, since someone like Kita is still holding on to her hand despite it being clammy with sweat, and looking at her, smiling. Bright as ever, just for her.
They resume their walk and Bocchi gazes up to the night sky again, unafraid of lampposts on her path with Kita leading the way. The stars are still hanging up there, stubborn as ever.