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Drenched and sticky—cold rain fell but all they could think to do was chase and shove each other through the empty streets of the shopping district. Despite branding herself as trouble with that rebellious red streak, Ran wouldn’t have dared to sneak out at this hour alone—hands anxiously laced with Moca's as they charged into the freezing rain.
It was just another stupid fight with her father. Him and his stupid traditions that made him uptight and tense and tempered, always testing the waters for what offensive crap he could say to her. His thin lines would snap against her sharp edges, and they’d be back to the yelling.
He didn’t get the dyed hair and the black choker and the loud music that makes his ears bleed and the raspy way she screams her feelings into a mic. They yelled across the house into the evening, and her throat was sore, but he was just as stubborn as always. So she slammed all the doors and ran to hide under the covers—an old habit from childhood Afterglow found endearing (it's not, really).
Don’t look at me, because crying was so stupid and lame and everyone will leave you if you keep—
Clank!
Scary thoughts didn’t get to finish, and Ran slowly dragged her body to the window. Another pair of rocks were thrown at the glass.
Clank! Clank!
And of course it was Moca—with clothes dripping from the downpour—standing in the middle of the street and throwing stones at her window, like in one of Himari’s stupid shoujo manga (they weren’t stupid, but who could ever admit that they wanted to be gently kissed in the rain and held tightly and loved?)
And Ran wanted to strangle her, opening the window to see Moca making tiny heart shapes with her fingers and blowing kisses to her lips, as if she wasn’t breaking glass and hurling rocks at buildings.
Moca’s teasing eyes and shit eating grin always tried their best to light her fuse, to push her over the edge. Really, they only ever pulled her closer, as if she’d just die if she didn’t get up to drag Moca to their warm spot on the roof and wipe that stupid smile off her face. Of course, Moca knew that.
“My dearest Ran, oh beloved Ran of mine.”
Ran rolled her eyes.
“Would you, most beautiful maiden in Japan, bless a pitiful Moca-chan with your presence in her humble abode? With a stop on the way for snacks of course~”
Suddenly, the teasing grin is replaced by a gentle smile—the one she wears for sunsets on the roof after school, when they’re sharing earbuds and plunking at stings on their guitars and trying to get that last riff down because they need to try it out at their show.
Suddenly, Ran’s staring into the same kind eyes that have watched over her all her life. They’re kind, but anxious, and she’s reminded of the burning in her own eyes. Ran furiously wipes her face with the sleeves of her sweatshirt. Moca fiddles with her fingers, peeling at the skin around her nails.
“You weren’t answering your messages. Poor old Moca-chan thought Ran forgot all about her.”
Ran opens her phone to find two missed calls and three unopened texts. Moca’s contact photo is a picture from the last Afterglow sleepover, the one where they all caught her sleeping with arms and legs wrapped around her guitar—a little drool running down her cheek. Moca will never admit just how much she loves the instrument, but anyone could tell just from the way she sounds, and Ran would rather die than admit how every night, she hears it in her dreams.
“Moca-chan was so sad, she was in tears for the entire walk to Ran’s house.” Moca chuckles. “Of course, Moca knows Ran could never forget her beautiful face. Who else would she have to kiss during class on the roof~? Very scandalous of Ran.”
Ran glared, blushing at the memory.
“Moca-!”
“My house, same as always?”
Moca was fidgeting, shuffling her soggy shoes in the puddle beneath her and picking at her fingers. Ran hates it when Moca rips and tears at her skin; it makes her want to steal those hands away—to hold the pretty fingers that thread in her hair and rub her back when she’s falling asleep at a family restaurant after a long practice.
And those stupid pretty eyes won’t look away, hesitant but wanting. Words get stuck in the back of Ran’s throat.
“I, I want...”
Ran struggles to speak, although Moca can tell she’s just about ready to break the glass and jump out the window. She’s not even wearing socks. Moca smiles.
“Jeez, Moca-chan will get all sad again if Ran doesn’t come with her. And after all the trouble she went through too.”
“I want-!”
The last phrase comes out as a squeak. Moca begins to walk away.
“Well…I guess if Ran doesn’t wanna come out of her room then that’s fine. Poor Moca-chan will be on her way now, walking home lonely and sad in the rain. Bye bye Raaaaaaan.”
Moca waves, a cheerful grin on her face as she skips in the puddles down the street.
“Moca!”
Ran groans, throwing on an old hoodie and rushing down the stairs. Somewhere deep down, she knows there’s really no need to hurry; Moca’s already waiting there for her.
And Ran just wants to cry the moment she opens the back door and Moca drags her out into the pouring rain and into her arms. She’s grasping at the dirty sleeves of Moca's drenched sweater that still somehow smelled like bread. Ran smiles into her neck.
Moca ruffles her hair. “I knew Ran couldn’t resist my loveliness~”
Soggy white hairs stick to her face and cover her eyes. The dripping hair and goofy smile makes Ran think she looks a bit like a wet dog, but it's that stupid charm that makes her want to ditch class together and steal kisses behind the stage after coming down from the high of a summer show and sneak out in the middle of the night to play guitar in the empty parking lot of a family restaurant and start a band together.
“Your mom better be cooking. You’ll burn the kitchen down again and I’m starving.”
Moca tugs at the drawstrings of Ran’s hoodie. “Moca-chan bought takeout.”
Suddenly, the back porch lights turn on. Her dad must have woken up from his nap and heard the noise. Moca turns toward Ran with a serious expression—fingers digging into her shoulders. Ran tenses up.
“Moca-?”
She breaks into a smile, abruptly shoving Ran into a puddle and laughing as she makes her escape down the dark rainy street.
“Oy! Moca!”
Ran crawls out of the water and hurries to her feet. She hears the sound of footsteps approaching the backdoor, and rushes to Moca’s side as they make for a warm bedroom with rock band posters covering every inch of wall space and a bag of takeout waiting on a mess of paper plates across the floor.
It's almost midnight and the neighborhood surely hates them, but Ran thinks they’ll just have to suck it up, because they’re almost home and she has yet to decide if she’s going to kill Moca or kiss her.