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"Icchan!"
With her wide grin and loose hair, Saki is a whirlwind of brightness when the door flies open and she bursts into the room, beaming at Ichika. More amused than surprised, Ichika just looks up from her phone, and cocks her head in a silent gesture for Saki to continue.
She does, eyes glowing. Her hair sways as she bounces on the balls of her feet, pink and blonde blurring together. "Remember those few weeks after our concerts where we’re taking a break?”
"Yes," Ichika says slowly, setting her phone aside as Saki crosses the room to climb onto the bed. Almost on autopilot, she shifts so that Saki can lie between her legs, her back pressed against Ichika's chest. It's a familiar position, and Ichika rests her chin on Saki's head. "You have something in mind?"
"Mm hm." Though she's sitting still, Ichika can still hear Saki's barely contained excitement in her voice, straining to escape. "I had an idea of what we could do then. We've been stuck in the city for so long, and every time we go out it's all for band stuff, so I thought we could go on a road trip!"
“A road trip,” Ichika says thoughtfully. Her hand reaches up and cards through Saki's hair.
It isn't a surprising suggestion by any means; they've been on much more unconventional ventures together, like the time Shiho had dragged them around the whole of Shibuya in a search for a specific bunny plushie, or the time Ichika had forced them to wake up at 3 am to queue for the release of a CD she wanted. Still, a road trip is something they've never done, even with all the years they've spent together. The idea of spending hours, even days cooped up in the same small area as her girlfriends is oddly appealing, even more as Ichika considers it.
"I like that idea," Ichika decides.
Nodding, Saki taps on her phone. "I've already found a few routes we can consider, like this one—"
"What was Saki-chan yelling about?”
Honami stands in the doorway, apron tied around her waist and a fond smile on her face. Next to her, Shiho peeks in curiously, a hand perched on Honami's shoulder for balance.
“Saki was suggesting something for us to do on our break."
"Really?" Shiho says. "What is it?"
Ichika nudges Saki, who explains her idea again. As she speaks, Honami walks up to the bed and stops next to it. Next to her, Shiho settles onto the bed on her stomach.
"That's going to take a lot of planning," Shiho says, resting her chin on her hand. “Finding a vehicle to rent, preparing supplies, planning the route…”
"But it'll be fun!"
"I never said it wouldn't.”
"I think a road trip would be nice," Honami says, before Saki can get in a jab at Shiho. "A few days of nothing but us and nature sounds relaxing."
"Speaking of nature… I was also thinking that we could go stargazing," Saki says, and the way Honami immediately perks up is entirely expected, but adorable nonetheless.
"Well, we have to go, then," she says. Her gaze turns faraway, and Ichika imagines the images flashing before her eyes, quick estimations of what stars will be the most visible during that time period.
“So no objections, then?” Ichika asks. It's more of a courtesy than anything, since any disagreements would have been obvious by now, but when everyone nods enthusiastically, a rush of anticipation floods through her all the same. The last time they'd left the city for pure relaxation was— well, probably trips to the beach in high school.
"Don't forget about the actual concerts, though," Shiho cuts in. "We can plan the road trip, but we should still be focusing on–"
"I know, you don’t have to nag," Saki groans, with exaggerated annoyance, and Shiho digs fingers into Saki's side in retaliation. Always the most ticklish out of all of them, Saki bursts into reflexive giggles and twists, breaking Ichika’s embrace. "Stop it! Shiho-chan!"
While Saki squirms under Shiho's attack, Honami and Ichika share a look. It's wry, amused, and even a little exasperated, but filled with affection that has never faded. And as always, they're in sync with each other's thoughts. Honami takes a step back. Casually, ignoring the sound of laughter interspersed with scuffling, she says, "I'm going back to our dinner. Do you want to come help?"
"Yeah." Leaning forward, Ichika reaches for Honami's hand with a knowing grin; it's nowhere near the first time they've escaped from the antics of the other two together. But as they begin to leave the room, they're stopped by a voice.
"Hey, me too!" Saki calls, and in a flurry of movement she and Shiho scramble off the bed.
"We won't all fit in the kitchen," Honami says, frowning, but it doesn't matter and they've never cared anyway, and before she can continue protesting Saki pulls them all down the corridor, laughing.
“Saki, let me help you with that…”
“No, it's fine, I'm— ah!"
Saki yelps, her hands too occupied with other items to catch the bag that had slipped from her grasp, but Ichika grabs for it. Her hand closes around the strap just before it hits the ground, and she hoists it onto her shoulder. The items inside jostle as she does, metal scraping against metal. Something pokes into her back.
Saki sighs in relief. "Nice catch. Though, I'm not sure I would have dropped it if you hadn't distracted me…"
"Yeah, I believe you," Ichika replies, pointedly eyeing the multiple things in Saki's arms—two jackets, a first aid kit, and a camping chair—and Saki smiles sheepishly.
"I had a lot to pack last minute," she says with a shrug. "Help me load these into the van?"
"Sure. Watch yourself on the step…" Ichika gestures to it with her free hand, as if Saki hasn’t walked this path hundreds of times already.
She ends up taking the chair off Saki anyway, worried that it'll obscure her vision. Shiho is there when they arrive at the camping trailer, organising their bags and supplies into neat piles according to necessity.
"Just put it down over there," she says, pointing with her chin, "I'll sort them out."
"Thanks, Shiho-chan!" Saki chirps. With a thud, she deposits everything in her arms onto the floor. Ichika places the bag and the chair next to Saki’s pile, then straightens up.
“Is there anything else you need to bring in?"
Saki deduces Ichika's offer and quickly shakes her head. "You can help Shiho-chan with the packing, I just need to grab a few last things."
"Okay." Ichika watches Saki climb out of the trailer and disappear back into the house. Then she turns to Shiho, who's already lifting up the first aid kit.
"Could you help me put those next to the cooking supplies?" she asks, and Ichika complies.
She carefully steps over a couple items as she shifts the bags to the corner Shiho has designated for the cooking supplies. Once she does, she makes her way to the entrance quickly, breathing in the fresh air with relief. The trailer is much smaller than the one they usually use when traveling for the band, and within only a few minutes the air has become stale.
In contrast, the morning air is crisp, pleasantly stinging the inside of Ichika's throat. It's still early in the day, with the pale yellow sunbeams reflecting off the trailer carrying a hint of warmth that barely cuts through the lingering chill of night. They'd picked a good time to set off on their road trip, Ichika thinks; they'll be on the road by the time the day starts to properly heat up.
"Ichika."
Ichika turns to face Shiho, and something that was previously tense in Shiho's face relaxes. With a small smile, she sits down at the entrance, her legs dangling over the edge. "Hey."
"Hey," Ichika returns. Behind Shiho, all the bags have been stashed against the walls—at least, until Saki returns with more.
Shiho follows Ichika's gaze and makes a face. "You know, I thought we already put most of the stuff we needed in here last night."
"Not if Saki had anything to say about it." Both of them laugh, one mostly fond, the other mostly exasperated. They’d both seen Saki dashing around the house, suddenly deciding to add in item after item that she deemed necessary "just in case". They're lucky that their unit is on the first floor of the building; Ichika's patience would have worn thin far sooner if not.
Shiho wordlessly shuffles to the side to let Ichika sit next to her in the doorway. It's barely big enough to fit both of them, and their thighs are pressed together. "Are you excited?"
"'Course I am."
Dressed in a dark green hoodie and black jeans and swinging her legs idly, Shiho seems like the complete opposite of excited, even further when contrasted next to Honami's sparkling eyes, or Saki's almost constant fidgeting in the week leading up to this. But spotting the little tells that say otherwise comes naturally to Ichika. She's learned that Shiho's excitement manifests briefly; it's a gleam in her eyes, or little smiles when she thinks no one's looking. And now she looks down, one of those exact smiles tugging at her lips as she fiddles with a hoodie string.
"'Course you are," Ichika echoes affectionately. Suddenly struck with a wave of impulsiveness, she reaches out and touches Shiho's cheek, turning her head towards her.
Shiho blinks, and Ichika huffs out a laugh, leans closer, noses her cheek. She watches Shiho's eyes flutter shut. "Kiss?"
Wordlessly, Shiho shifts and closes the distance. She misses at first, getting the corner of Ichika's mouth and eliciting giggles before their lips properly meet.
Her cheek presses further into Ichika's hand as they kiss, and when they separate her hand stays there. Shiho's cheek is warm, a beacon in the chill of their surroundings. She's almost always warm, somehow. It makes her very nice to cuddle, Ichika muses as her thumb idly skims across heated skin.
A distance away, the doors to their apartment building open and Saki emerges, toting two plastic bags and a backpack. When she spots them, her face lights up and she starts making her way towards them, not bothering to watch her step.
Ichika’s hand falls back to her side as she straightens. "There she comes."
Shiho sighs. "She's going to trip."
She stands and hurries toward Saki. Her warmth retreats as she does. With a sigh matching Shiho's, Ichika gets up to help her girlfriends.
Thankfully, Saki is true to her word; it's the last time she adds something to their supplies. Ichika ducks into the house to do a final sweep with Honami, and after they're done, they finally gather outside the van— the first time they've all been in the same place since they finished breakfast, with everyone having been at their own tasks.
Saki's practically bouncing on the spot when Ichika stops beside her. Her eyes shine with a culmination of her contained excitement over the past few months, every time Shiho had had to pull her attention back into band practice and away from anticipatory thoughts of them finally having an entire trip to themselves.
Now that there's no one to stop her (no one wants to stop her), Saki says, "Five days of no practice, I can’t wait!"
Honami stifles a laugh behind her hand. "That's the best part of this trip to you, Saki-chan?"
"Of course not," Saki quickly amends, her eyes widening. "The best part of this is being able to have fun with my lovely girlfriends!"
She plants a kiss on Shiho’s cheek as if to prove it, and Shiho rolls her eyes but leans into her touch in a returning affectionate gesture.
"Well, should we go? I have the keys."
Honami opens her mouth. Anticipating her question, Ichika says, "I locked the door and all the windows. And double checked."
Honami nods. “Are we all ready then?”
In a practiced movement, Ichika meets their eyes one by one. It's comfortable and familiar, reading their moods in a short glance and assuring each other that they're all here. They do this before every time they perform, and though this is much less high stakes, the way it settles Ichika's nerves is the same. Although they’ve thoroughly planned their route and their schedule, there’s still an element of thrill to it. Being able to watch their reactions is half of the experience; they'd agreed to go through life together, and every new thing they experience together is one more step towards fulfilling that promise.
"Here we go, then," Ichika says, and with a flourish, pulls open the door.
They've already poked around the interior of the van beforehand, but it still looks much larger than it does from the outside. There's a bed at the back, occupying the rear portion of the van, that Ichika still doubts they'll all fit in. Along one side of the van is a few cupboards, with windows lining the opposite side. Back to back with the driver's seat is a couch and a coffee table.
Ichika takes in the bed, the couches and table, and the size of the space, large enough for the four of them to fit comfortably for the next week. They've been in camper vans while traveling around for concerts, but never ones this big, rented for comfort instead of budget.
"I'm taking the bed first!"
The sound of conversation, along with hurried footsteps, echoes in the enclosed area, which is then quickly followed by the opening and shutting of cupboards. The air smells faintly of leather, which makes Ichika's nose wrinkle, but she sits on the couch anyway. It sinks down a little more than expected, then even further after Honami appears beside her.
They gravitate toward each other without thinking, Honami resting her head on Ichika's shoulder. "Don't mess up the sheets, Saki-chan," she says, her eyes closed.
"I won't!" Saki's voice assures her, followed by the sounds of hurried fabric smoothing. Honami snorts a laugh.
"All good to go?" Shiho asks from the driver's seat. The floor jumps, then starts vibrating after she starts the engine. "Say your goodbyes to the house."
"Bye house," Honami says dutifully.
"Bye cacti," Ichika says, then nudges Honami. "Say bye. You too, Saki, Shiho."
They wave goodbye to the cactus family in their window. It's their little collection of cacti gathered over the years, made up of Ichika’s original pet cactus, a few gifts to Ichika, and a few others they’d collectively agreed to buy to keep the other cacti company. Ichika says good morning to them almost every day, and while the others have never been nearly as enthusiastic as her, they’ve developed a decent amount of affection for the cacti.
"I hope they'll be alright," Ichika says.
"I thought you already made sure the soil wouldn't dry out while we're away," Shiho says.
"I did!" Ichika leans a little closer into the van window as they begin to move. "I just don't like leaving them alone."
Logically, it's a ridiculous statement, but her girlfriends all nod in understanding. Ichika keeps her eyes on the cacti until Shiho makes a turn and they disappear from sight, then she sits back into the seat.
"It's a good thing we don't have cats yet," Honami says thoughtfully. "I'd feel bad leaving them behind like that. At least the cacti take care of themselves."
Something shifts in the air, the relatively quiet atmosphere becoming a little charged. Ichika looks away from the window as Saki sits up. She's wearing an accusing frown that already has Ichika amused before she calls across the van, "Bold of you to mention cats when the reason we don't have them is because you keep shooting me down!"
"She has a point," Shiho adds, and if she weren't driving Ichika can picture the exact kind of pleading puppy (or maybe kitten) eyes Shiho and Saki would be pulling right now.
"We talked about this, guys," Ichika starts, because this isn't the first time they've had this exact discussion.
It always starts with Saki bringing up the idea of them adopting cats, and always ends with Honami as the voice of reason saying that they'd leave the cats home alone too often while they traveled back and forth between concerts. But it’s always been a matter of when instead of if, with Saki always trying to push the date a little bit more forward. So far they’re at “once our band career begins to die down a bit”, moved forward from “after we officially retire the band”.
Saki huffs. "Well, then maybe Hona-chan should stop bringing the topic up just to tease me."
"What? I would never," Honami says, her eyes wide.
"You were!" Saki frowns at Honami for a moment, then adds, "But we are getting those cats one day. Right?"
"Yes, yes, darling," Honami sighs, and effectively ends the conversation as Saki blinks, stunned by the pet name.
Then she turns to face the window in an attempt to hide her blush, and Honami's eyes crinkle: an admission of guilt, an expression of fondness, and a promise all rolled into one.
Ichika stretches, grinning. "Can we save the arguing for a little later? We've got a long drive ahead of us," she says.
"I thought driving was the whole point."
Shiho snorts, and they keep driving ahead.
“I know, Shiho-chan! Let’s play I Spy!”
"That's a terrible idea," Shiho groans.
Ichika folds her arms and grins. "Shiho, c'mon. I spy with my little eye…"
A long sigh. "No."
Saki sighs and slumps back into the seat. They'd been in the middle of a card game, with Shiho providing comments based on their running exclamations ("Pick this one, Hona-chan, no this— this one— noooooo!" "I think you made it way too obvious which card's which, Saki…"), until Honami had suggested playing a game that involved Shiho.
And naturally, while beginning to drive past long stretches of hills with nothing to see but grass and flowers, Saki had suggested I Spy. It wouldn't have been as questionable of an idea an hour ago, when they'd been driving past the rural areas on the outskirts of the city, with fields of cows and handfuls of buildings to break up the sprawling fields.
"That's the only game you can think of?" Shiho asks.
"Then think of something else, if you're so smart," Ichika says.
"No. I'm driving."
With both of them sitting on back to back seats, when Ichika looks straight ahead, Shiho appears as a disembodied voice coming from the opposite side of a wall. It sparks a distant childish part of Ichika, thrilling in the memory of whispering to each other through room doors, the secrecy of it.
It makes her smile as she jabs, "Driving down a straight road doesn't require that much concentration."
"Well… yeah. I just…" Shiho leans her head back, causing the back of the couch to judder in response. She pauses for a long moment. "I just like listening to you guys, alright? I don't mind not talking. So let me do that in peace."
Then she goes back to staring determinedly at the road.
"Aww, Shiho-chan," Saki coos.
Ichika grins. "That just sounds like an excuse to not play I Spy."
"Get back to your card game," Shiho mutters, the fluster in her voice not needing any of the familiarity between them to spot, and Saki's eyes melt a little more in endearment. Ichika's sure that if not for the whole driving thing, she would already be in Shiho's lap, cupping her face— or at least, attempting to.
In a bid to spare Shiho from any further teasing, Honami leans forward and places two cards in the middle of the table. "Your turn, Saki-chan."
"Aw— no fair!" Saki exclaims. She grumbles and flicks through her cards, trying to counter Honami's play, and with her successfully distracted, the van picks up speed again as Shiho turns her attention back to driving.
Eventually, Ichika excuses herself to wander to the back of the van to check out the bed. Despite her best efforts, Saki had left a few large creases on the sheets, and Ichika smoothens them out before taking a seat herself.
Shiho has a point about listening to them, she thinks. There's something comforting in just letting the others talk, knowing that she's welcome here. It feels like it's been ages since they got the chance to simply exist in the same space, breathe the same air, without the prospect of work hanging over their heads. Sure, they wake up and go to sleep together, but every day for the past few months has been a flurry of what are we getting done today? in the mornings and then exhaustion in the evenings, at least one of them too sleepy for them to properly wind down together.
It's nice to listen to the three of them bicker without having to actively tune into the conversation, just in case it turns into a discussion about their new song or their next concert. Without paying attention, Shiho's low tone, Honami's gentle voice and Saki's bright speech blend into each other as easily as their instruments do, Ichika's own personal song. Ensconced in the sound, Ichika stares out the window and lets the scenery outside blur into blue and green.
She doesn't know how much time passes like that, but suddenly she blinks and realises that it's gone quiet. When she tears her gaze away from the window, she sees Honami and Saki asleep on the table, the cards still spread out in front of them. The van isn't particularly cold, but Ichika still fishes around for a jacket and drapes it over Saki's bare shoulders.
Then she pulls herself into the passenger seat. The driver's window is larger than she'd expected, and the scenery they're driving past is thrown into jarring clarity. "Hey."
"Hey," Shiho returns. Her fingers tap absently on the steering wheel, a fidget that surfaces to keep her occupied when she's bored.
Ichika frowns a little. "How long were you driving with them asleep? You could've called me over to accompany you after they did."
"Didn't want to disturb you."
"I wouldn't have minded," Ichika protests, but she's acutely familiar with Shiho's stubborn form of kindness and the way she cares for them, so she just scoffs and shakes her head.
"Well, I don't know how you drove in silence for so long. Can I put on a song?"
"Sure."
It takes an embarrassing amount of time for Ichika to figure out how to connect her phone to the audio system. Shiho's no help, snickering every time Ichika makes a frustrated noise, but she eventually makes it work and hits shuffle on her playlist.
The first song is, unsurprisingly, a Miku song. It bleeds out from the speakers, filling the space between them with electronic warble and the almost indistinguishable steady beat of the instrumental. Never the most talkative pair of them, they're content with letting the music cut through the silence; Shiho keeps her eyes on the road, but her fingers start to tap along to the rhythm. Ichika, on the other hand, leans back and watches Shiho.
She's watched Shiho a lot; performing on stage, directing staff, smiling and greeting their fans. Shiho the bassist is effortlessly charismatic, and even next to her while performing, it's all too easy for Ichika's gaze to drift over to her. But somehow, in this van, she's never held Ichika's attention this naturally before.
Her hair is at that length again, the one after she forgets to cut it for a few months, and it brushes her shoulders as she nods along to the music. Ichika wants to reach over and run her hands through it and tease Shiho for how long her hair's grown out, but that would mean disrupting the calm on her face—because she'd almost definitely try to shake Ichika off—and Ichika wants to admire it for a little longer.
"You're staring at me," Shiho says.
Ichika feels her lips tilt. "Sorry," she replies, continuing to stare.
You're pretty, she considers adding, because it's true, with the sunlight washing over her and highlighting her features. The sharp, confident tilt to her chin that she wears onstage and any other band activity softens around the three of them, and Ichika takes a quiet thrill in knowing that even though they're watched by so many people, only the three of them get to see Shiho like this.
Like this, meaning bathed in gold every morning when she wakes up, rubbing sleep from her eyes, or curled up next to Ichika on their bed after arriving home from a particularly draining concert, or even lined with mock anger after Honami splashes her with water when they brush their teeth, frowning and complaining about water marks on the mirror all while preparing to splash her back.
And it's at times like this when she remembers how lucky she really is. To be with her girlfriends like this— to have met them at all. She's memorised the lines of their palms, the feel of their skin against hers, the way they look at her like she's more. They make a conscious decision to stay together every day, she's never really stopped being grateful for that.
She lets herself get lost in these thoughts, and despite her protests Shiho lets her stare. The van vibrates gently beneath them, blending with Shiho's soft humming to the songs that play through the speakers.
I wouldn't mind doing this forever, Ichika thinks hazily. Admiring her girlfriend, driving down an endless road, the world sprawled wide open in front of them. Like they're suspended in time, free to do whatever they want.
The spell is broken when Shiho tilts her head and frowns, and Ichika tunes into her surroundings again to realise that the song has changed. Briefly, Shiho turns from the road to side-eye Ichika. "You have our songs on your playlist?"
"I– I like our songs," Ichika protests weakly. It's one of their slower songs, one that Saki had struggled over walking the line between too slow to have enough energy for a performance, and too fast to convey the right feelings.
Shiho's nose scrunches in its endearing way. "Isn't hearing your own singing weird?"
"Well…" They fall into a brief silence, so instead of conversation floating through the air, it's the recording of Ichika's voice— a little warbled from the van's audio system, but her voice nonetheless. It only takes a few moments of listening to herself before she winces. "Now that you mention it… it is. A little."
But the songs make her smile, their melodies bringing along memories of Saki's unrestrained excitement every time she finished a song, or Ichika's own thought process while writing the lyrics. And after Shiho and Honami had started chipping in and their music had grown to incorporate ideas from all four of them, it had become that much more meaningful to her.
Shiho must be following the same line of thought, because she says, "This is one of our very first ones."
"Yeah, remember how Saki was struggling to write it? It sounds so…" she lowers her voice conspiratorially, "...amateurish now, but it's still one of my favourites."
Shiho smirks. "Don't let Saki know you said that."
“You’d never tell her,” Ichika says, fixing Shiho with a threatening stare. "You wouldn't dare."
"No promises."
"I'll tell her about how you slack off when it's your laundry day."
"Hey!"
They dissolve into laughter that Ichika is quick to shush, aware of Saki and Honami still asleep behind them.
"I'd be surprised if she doesn't already know," Shiho says after she catches her breath. Then she leans over and looks at Saki, still asleep on the couch. There's a little quirk to her lips when she looks back to the front.
"I'm sure she'd say the same about it," she adds after a while. “She's always the one fighting us to exclude it from our setlists."
Ichika snorts at the memories that surface: a frowning Saki leaning over their dining table, her face contorted as she protests the addition of their first song to their concert setlists. And the accompanying exchange:
The fans would love it, Saki… please?
No! I wrote that in high school, it's so embarrassing…
The song ends with a guitar riff that the speakers distort so horribly that it pulls Ichika from her thoughts and makes Shiho wince.
"Maybe we should have tested the speakers before we rented the van," Ichika says, shaking her head.
"I don't think the people at the rental place would've let us look at it any longer," Shiho says. "Between you and Honami, I think they were close to kicking us out."
"We had to make sure it was suitable for us to live in for a week!" Ichika protests. "Remember that van with the wiggly driver's seat? Aren't you glad we checked and didn't get that one?"
"Very grateful," Shiho says, deadpan. She reaches over and turns the volume of the music, which has now changed to another Miku song, a little softer.
They sit in silence for a while. Ichika sings along to a few songs, Shiho joining in occasionally, and their voices meld without effort.
“Hey,” Shiho says lowly. She nods towards the outside with her chin. “What flowers are those?”
Ichika blinks and turns to look. While she'd been distracted, they'd started driving past fields littered with patches of purple-pink flowers, splashed vibrantly across stretches of green. The van is moving too quickly for Ichika to identify them, though, but before she can say anything, they slow a little, enough for Ichika to squint at them and her memory to spark.
“Oh! They’re sakurasou,” she says, recalling the flowers from her research. “They’re named that because they look like sakura, but they’re actually primroses.”
“What do they mean?”
The answer comes immediately, but Ichika says, “I thought you three were all experts after I taught you. Don’t you remember?”
It's meant to be a light jab, but when Ichika looks over at her Shiho is frowning, trying to recall all the flowers Ichika's given them over the years. She bites back a grin, endeared.
"Did you tell us about this specific one?"
"Maybe?"
Shiho squints so hard in concentration that Ichika takes pity on her.
"Long lasting love," she says. Her heart does a flip as she says it, which is stupid. This isn't even a love confession, and even if it was, it's the most indirect way she's ever told any of them she loves them— but that doesn't make her feel any less embarrassed.
"Oh." Ichika doesn't turn around, still looking at the flowers, but she imagines that the expression on Shiho's face matches the softness of her voice. "Fitting. For us, I mean."
Any other time, Ichika might have teased Shiho for being sappy, but given that she'd been thinking the exact same thing, she makes the decision to keep it to herself. The van starts picking up speed again, and the sakurasou turn back into purple smears on vivid green. Still, Ichika continues looking out the window.
Now that she's paying attention to the outside, she can see the slopes of hills and distant mountains in the distance. Saki was right; after all the time they've spent in the city, being able to see nature with her own eyes makes even the simple things seem beautiful.
"Do you think we should wake them up to look at the mountains?"
Shiho hums. "Maybe later. They'll still be there when we stop for lunch."
It's just the two of us for now. The thought, just like many other things that she and Shiho understand between themselves without words ever being exchanged, goes unspoken. She loves her girlfriends, loves when they're all talking and laughing together, but there's also something about this quiet moment with Shiho. They'll have all the time they want after this, anyway.
In the serenity, Shiho's hand touches Ichika's elbow. They interlock hands, and Ichika feels warmth bloom in her chest as a thumb brushes featherlight over her knuckles.
Some time along the way, Saki wakes up and goes up to the passenger seat to ask for "alone time with Shiho-chan". Ichika huffs but leaves her to it, and Saki crawls into the passenger seat.
Honami is still asleep on the table, her head resting on her folded arms, her legs curled up on the bench. They hadn't bothered to clean up the card game, so Ichika takes a seat and starts gathering cards together.
While stacking the cards, she finds herself sneaking glances at her girlfriend. Sleeping Honami is a rare sight; usually she's the first to awaken of all of them— even before Ichika, who already considers herself an early riser. Whether it's because she's grown accustomed to being the one making breakfast, it's hard to catch her asleep. Besides, on the occasions that Ichika does wake up before her, her face is so often buried in Saki’s hair or pressed against Shiho’s back that it’s hard for Ichika to properly look at her.
So being able to see, really see, the relaxed part of Honami’s lips, the gentle flutter of her eyelashes and the subtle twitches in her face as she dreams— it feels like a secret being shared, a side of Honami that Ichika doesn't see often being entrusted to her.
Entranced, Ichika reaches out to tuck a lock of hair behind Honami's ear, then leans down to kiss her cheek, the skin surprisingly cool. If she were awake, Honami would be laughing softly; Ichika finds herself missing the sound, even if she is only asleep.
But she doesn't want to wake her up yet, so Ichika continues her task. She tugs a card out from under Honami's arm and she shifts, muttering a little. The movement reveals two more cards that she'd been lying on, and Ichika wonders who had been winning before they'd fallen asleep; she hadn't been paying much attention, staring out the window while the other two bickered over the cards.
With the low murmur of conversation from the driver's seat combined with the faint hum beneath her feet, Ichika lulls herself into a quiet reverie. She counts the number of cards to ensure they haven't lost any, then shuffles them around to keep her hands occupied.
She's just slid the cards back into the box when Shiho's voice comes from the driver's seat. "You should probably wake Honami up soon so we can decide when to stop for lunch."
"Mkay."
Then, “Honami,” she whispers, shaking her gently.
“Mm?” Her left eye opens. Then she blinks, as if she's orientating herself. “Oh…”
Still sleepy, she sits up, yawns, then closes her eyes and leans her head on Ichika's shoulder.
"I'm supposed to wake you up," Ichika whispers.
"Mm," Honami sighs, throwing an arm across Ichika's chest to pull her in closer, turning her head to hide it in the crook of Ichika's neck as she does so.
“Honami…” Ichika trails off, unable to stop the fond smile that forms as she rests her head on Honami’s and wraps her arms around her. “You… fine. I’ll get you up later.”
Saki finds them like that after a while, after she leaves Shiho at the wheel and turns around to see them.
“Why is Hona-chan still sleeping?"
Ichika blinks, a deer caught in headlights. "She was still sleepy and ended up falling asleep on me, so…"
"That just sounds like an excuse to cuddle."
“Maybe, but— don’t join now, she has to wake up,” Ichika says, frowning and swatting Saki away when she tries to crowd closer.
"I'm helping," Saki says, without any attempt to sound or act convincingly. Her head rests on Honami's back, and her arm circles Honami's waist to touch Ichika's arm.
Between them, Honami makes a soft noise, and a long exhale brushes across the skin of Ichika’s neck. So she’s at least half awake; Ichika opens her mouth to attempt to convince her to get up again when she speaks.
"This is a little suffocating," she mumbles.
"Blame Saki," Ichika says, beginning to untangle herself from the embrace.
It takes a little pouting on Saki's part and a few kisses exchanged, but Honami manages to sit up and stretch out the stiffness from her sleeping position. Her hair is sticking up and unruly, and she combs her hand through it a few times, frowning.
Once she's fixed her hair to an acceptable state, Honami holds up her hair tie and turns her back to Ichika. "Ichika-chan, would you…?"
Taking the hair tie, Ichika ties Honami's ponytail for her. It's a little clumsy; Ichika doesn't have much practice tying someone else's hair, but she manages. Honami touches the ponytail, with its lopsidedness and all, and thanks Ichika with a smile and a kiss to the forehead.
They end up deciding to stop the van next to a field littered with flowers. Shiho stops on the side of the road, and together they pull out the necessary supplies for lunch and prepare to set up in the grass a short distance from their van. In the time between the early morning and the afternoon, the air has warmed considerably while they'd stayed in the van, and the sun beams into their eyes. A dry wind almost snatches the picnic mat right out of Shiho's hands when she unfolds it, to their collective amusement.
Once the food is properly spread out on the mat, Ichika settles down to eat what might be the most familiar food of the trip; they'd brought along cooked food for the first meal to eat before it spoiled, and she intends to savour all of it before they start eating canned food for the rest of the trip.
"These flowers are really pretty," Saki says. She's pulled her hair into a braid, and it makes her look distractingly cute as it falls over her shoulder.
"They are!" From her position at the edge of the mat, Honami reaches out to touch a white flower, almost glowing in the sunlight. "Here, this one— Ichika-chan, what is it?"
Lunch passes in a flash of name-the-flower, after which Saki suggests making a flower crown, and all of them have a go at it. Only Honami successfully produces one, and she promptly sets it on Saki's head, the pink petals matching perfectly with her dyed tips; Saki proceeds to blush a shade that almost matches the flowers, too.
Having a picnic in this field feels like something out of a book, too idyllic to be real. The colours of the flowers around them look a little too vivid, the sky is bluer than she's ever seen it, and even the lukewarm yakisoba buns Ichika eats feel like the best she's ever had.
As they start finishing up the last remnants of their lunch, Shiho and Saki leave to organise their items, the orderly piles disrupted by their search for cooking paraphernalia.
"Ah, here, Ichika-chan, you can finish the pie," Honami says, pushing the tray over.
Ichika can still taste the cherries from the last slice she ate. “Oh, are you sure the others don't…”
“I'm sure they won't mind,” Honami says, and holds the fork up to her lips.
They had packed the pies in the front of their bags, intending to eat them at lunch, but Ichika feels a little bad as she takes the last bite. It's still warm, and sweet and everything good about Honami's baking, and even though she’s still guilty it's hard to not enjoy it.
“Good?” Honami asks, beaming when Ichika nods. Then, her eyes widen.
“Ah, Ichika-chan, you have a…”
Honami leans forward and swipes the corner of Ichika’s mouth with a finger, then eats the crumb herself.
"Honami!" Ichika’s cheeks warm, and she turns away to cover her face, an incredulous, flustered laugh escaping her lips. Behind her, Honami’s accompanying laugh fills the air, and arms pull her back.
"Sorry," Honami giggles, resting her chin on Ichika's shoulder. Her chest is flush against Ichika's back. "It was a good opportunity."
"Opportunity for what?"
"To make you blush," Honami says. With a hint of smugness, she adds, "It worked."
The heat of the sun barely rivals that on Ichika's cheeks. She groans in embarrassment, head falling back to make eye contact with Honami.
"You're so lame."
Honami laughs again, pressing their cheeks together in a show of overbearing affection. One of her arms goes to Ichika's waist and now they're basically cuddling on the picnic mat, and it should be uncomfortably hot, but it isn't. Ichika just stretches out her legs, mindful of the remaining plates scattered around. She closes her eyes.
"Ichika. Honami."
Ichika opens her eyes. Shiho stands above her, a plastic bag of trash in her hands, and Ichika realises that she'd dozed off and left Shiho to clean up. She tries to find the voice to apologise, but Shiho just seems relieved that she's awake.
"Oh, good. Please don't fall asleep on the mat." She punctuates her sentence with a tug at the mat. Honami grumbles, seeming freshly awoken herself, but they eventually untangle from each other. Not quickly enough, though, and Shiho tugs the mat again.
"Let's get going, lovebirds."
"We love you too, Shiho-chan!"
"That isn't what I said."
After lunch, they get back into the van and start driving again, with Honami at the front. Saki suggests a board game, during which she and Ichika target Shiho with every move possible. With Honami too occupied with driving to mediate, the game quickly escalates into playful yelling and shoving, as if they're children again, and they end up working their way through almost four games before Ichika looks up and realises that the sky has darkened from bright blue to orange.
"The sun's starting to go down— I'm going to find a spot to stop," Honami calls from the driver's seat.
The van stops next to a wide expanse of nothing but grass, broken only by the mountains in the far distance.
"Hurry, let's try to get settled before sunset," Honami says, and a hand appears on Ichika's shoulder to nudge her forward.
They all climb out, and after a few minutes they have the supplies needed for dinner. The grass this time is shorter; it barely reaches Ichika's ankles as they set up their camping chairs around the stove. The air is cooler now, the breeze brushing her hair carrying a hint of the night's chill.
They sit down, chairs facing the horizon, where the sun is beginning to touch the peaks of the distant mountains. There's something appealing about the simplicity of it. Back in the city, the sun is always hidden by the buildings, leaving the only proof of the sunset the sunlight reflecting off the glass panes of skyscrapers. But here, the sun paints the sky orange and pink with no interruption as it slowly sinks out of sight.
And in the light of the setting sun, they start preparing dinner. It takes some struggling with the camping stove, then the can opener, then the soup when it nearly boils over, but each of them has a warm bowl of udon by the time the sun is beginning to properly set.
Ichika squints up at the sky, which is slowly fading into hues of dark orange. Everyone has gone silent, leaving only the soft sounds of eating that fades into the air. Out here, there are no trees, so the only sounds of nature is the muted ruffle of grass. It's peaceful.
“Hm.” Shiho breaks the silence. She stretches, careful to not topple the bowl in her lap. “I can’t remember the last time we watched the sunset together.”
Honami stirs, lifting her chin off her hands. “We’ve been really busy, haven’t we?”
It's such a simple thing that it completely slipped Ichika's mind, but as she thinks about it, Shiho's right. In the past few months, they've occasionally caught the change of lighting through their windows, but more often than not they just emerge from a performance or the practice room to see that night has already fallen.
And while watching the sun perform the same route it has for millennia is nothing special at all, it's comforting to know that they're catching up on lost time. Ichika lets her head fall back, a smile on her lips. "I'm glad we're here now, then."
"Thanks for the road trip idea, Saki-chan," Honami says.
"Of course," Saki replies, sounding smug, "my ideas are always the best."
"Ah…" Ichika exchanges glances with Shiho and Honami for a long moment, and she knows that they're all recalling the many times Saki has dragged them out for some poorly planned activity that she'd decided to go to on impulse.
Shiho suppresses a smile. "Hmm."
"What?" Saki frowns, turning to look at them. "Hey! What is it?"
"All your ideas are good," Honami says, patting Saki's head gently.
"And this is your best one," Ichika adds.
Saki eyes each of them in turn before turning back to her food. "I'm taking your word for it and ignoring whatever you three were just doing."
"Good idea," Ichika chirps. "Honami, can you pass me the water?"
While Honami sorts through their stuff for the water bottle, Ichika swirls her soup with her chopsticks, watching the mushrooms and baby carrots float around. Despite the soup consisting of only a chicken stock cube and canned vegetables, it isn't awful. They'd prepared food beforehand, and Ichika had been bracing herself for a week of mediocre food, but this isn't as bad as she'd expected.
"You know, this is surprisingly good," Shiho comments, her chopsticks halfway to her mouth. It's exactly what Ichika had been thinking, and she looks up, startled.
Honami raises her eyebrows. "Surprisingly?"
"Because it has canned vegetables! Not because of your cooking skills," Shiho rushes out.
Honami makes a soft disbelieving noise, but tops up Shiho's bowl with soup anyway.
They talk until the sun fully sets, when the chill begins to finally set in. Ichika ladles more soup into her bowl and wraps her hands around it for warmth. Somewhere along the way, they'd moved from the camping chairs to sitting on the picnic mat, and now Saki has her head in Ichika's lap, her loose hair fanned across Ichika's thighs.
"—And then they asked me for an autograph, and I was so surprised I forgot my own autograph…"
Ichika's already heard this story from Honami, but it's nice to watch her eyes light up as she tells it to Shiho and Saki, hear her embarrassed laugh at the end.
"I guess I'm not really used to being recognised on the streets yet. Usually we only get noticed because we're with Ichika-chan—"
"That isn't true, you have your own fans," Ichika interrupts, though a part of her knows that it's true. Whether it's because she's the one the audience sees the most of, or something else, she's always been the most popular member of their band.
Saki turns her head to look up. "Yes, but everyone loves you, Icchan."
"They don't," Ichika protests. "Can we please go back to Honami's autograph?"
But it's already too late. She recognises the gleam in Saki's eyes, the one before she decides to shower Ichika in compliments just to see her blush. Groaning, Ichika covers her face with her hands as if it can stop anything.
"Aw, c'mon, Icchan…" Saki takes both of Ichika's wrists, tugging her hands slightly apart. Through the gap, she can see Saki's grin. "You deserve the praise."
"You guys always exaggerate too much. I'm not as… whatever as you say I am."
"Of course you are. Our darling vocalist," Saki coos, and Ichika feels her face fairly burn up.
Saki laughs and kisses her stomach, and even through her shirt Ichika feels her stomach flip. She opens her mouth to reply, but Shiho's voice interrupts her.
"—chika. Ichika. Saki. Look up."
A moment after Ichika realises that Honami and Shiho have been oddly quiet up till that point, she looks up.
While they'd been absorbed in conversation, the sky had darkened enough for stars to be visible. And away from the city, with no light pollution to overshadow the starlight, the entire Milky Way gleams and shimmers in the sky. It's—
“It’s so pretty,” Shiho whispers, the first one among them to find words.
The spread of colours above them is larger and much more vivid than in the city; not only the regular specks of white and yellow, but even the red, blue and purple glows of distant planets and stars that they wouldn't normally see from Saki's balcony. With orange fading into indigo and pink blending with midnight blue, the galaxy arcs across the sky, impossibly large and bright, leaving afterimages on her eyelids when Ichika blinks.
It feels like a dream. It is a dream— to be able to see something so beautiful with the three of them.
When Ichika follows the trail of luminescence where it meets the ground, all she sees is the distant mountains that have faded into smudges of black on the horizon. Like this, all she can see is the sky and the small circle of light from their stove.
It's just them. Them and the stars. Ichika's world has been reduced to this circle around the stove and this sky. And she'd be happy with that, she thinks. If she could live in this moment forever…
She’d never thought that the world could be this pretty. Over the years, she's become familiar with the constellations visible from where they live, and Honami has showed them enough photos of space while on one of her rambles, but seeing it all with her own eyes… it's like a curtain has been pulled back, revealing a side of the world she's never seen before. It's so close, and so real, that it feels like if she reaches out a hand she'd come away with a handful of stars.
"I don't know how we're going to return to the city after this," Shiho muses aloud.
"I know! It's so gorgeous out here," Saki breathes.
"You're prettier, though," Ichika says without thinking, and Saki swats her on the arm.
"You're so cheesy," she snickers.
"It's true," Ichika retorts. She looks down the same moment Saki turns her face back up, and the stars reflected in Saki's eyes make her far more stunning than the sky itself.
“Look! The Cancrids are so bright,” Honami says. "And Shiho-chan, do you—"
“Remember what that star's called? Oh, yeah, Sirius.”
“No,” Honami says, sounding scandalised, and Shiho laughs.
"Sorry. Go on, tell us."
It's an obvious ploy to get Honami to talk, but none of them mind, content to listen to her. With an entire galaxy spread out for them to admire, Honami fairly jumps at the opportunity to point everything out for them, and soon they're all ensconced in Honami's unique brand of reserved passion. A smile tugs at the corners of her lips as she talks, and her eyes reflect the sky, midnight blue sparkling with swaths of silver.
She's so blinding that Ichika looks down and away, only for her eyes to meet Saki's.
Saki's grin is so bright that Ichika wonders if she'd suggested this road trip entirely for herself. And of course she didn't, they'd all planned it together, but the pure adoration in Saki's eyes… Honami might love astronomy and everything about it, but Saki loves the stars just for what they are. For the way they paint the sky, reminders of how vast the universe is; Saki has told her as much across the years, her eyes sparkling more than the sky itself.
Seeing Saki smile, Honami's eyes light up, and Shiho languidly lean her head against Honami's shoulder, Ichika feels her chest warm with emotions that feel too large for it. Too large for her to contain, to even try to possibly express.
The sky above them is massive, the space they're admiring stretching into infinity, and yet they're still here. Ichika might only have one burning heart, on this picnic mat in this expansive field below the never-ending sky, but this is enough. Because she finds twin stars when she looks at them; a galaxy in her chest, expanding too far for her control, with every breath she takes. Even now, she feels the sun's warmth bleeding into her skin.
Pausing to take a break from her ramble—Ichika immediately feels guilty for letting her attention slip, but surely Saki and Shiho were compensating for her—Honami says, "Did we take the marshmallows out?"
"Yeah. I've got it," Ichika replies, turning to rummage through the pile next to her.
The plastic crinkles in Ichika’s hands as she opens the packet of marshmallows, then the packet of skewers. Meanwhile, Honami fiddles around with the stove, turning it back on but lowering the flame to a gentle orange.
Ichika eyes the stove critically. "Not much of a campfire."
"Unless you want to get an axe and chop us some firewood…"
"I'll pass," Ichika says quickly, and Saki smirks. With a pat to Ichika's thigh, she sits up and reaches for a skewer.
They huddle around the stove, each holding a skewer. The firelight casts a warm glow on their faces, and even though they're squished against each other and Shiho almost pokes Ichika with her skewer, it's nice.
"I've never toasted marshmallows like this before," Shiho says, sounding reflective.
Ichika frowns. "You haven't? What about—"
"We got caught before I could roast mine, remember?"
The four of them, reeling and trying to hide the skewers behind their backs as Saki's mother came downstairs to see them toasting marshmallows over the Tenmas' stove. They hadn't realised it, much too distracted by the scolding they'd received afterwards, but now that Ichika thinks about it, Shiho hadn't eaten a marshmallow then.
"Oh, right! Mom was so mad…"
Saki snorts, then bursts into giggles moments later. The firelight catches on the tips of her hair, dusting her face with warmth the same way the laughter does.
"The marshmallows weren't even that good," Ichika adds, which only serves to add to Saki's mirth.
"I know! Hona-chan's one was almost burnt, right?"
"I didn't expect the stove to heat it up so fast," Honami says in a bid to defend herself.
Then, as if the conversation itself had made it happen, Shiho leans forward and nudges Saki's arm slightly.
"Saki. Your marshmallow's burning."
“Oh!”
Saki jerks her burning marshmallow away from the fire to blow desperately on it. The wind helps her extinguish the fire, but by the time it goes out, half of it has turned black. Saki frowns down at it.
Shiho sighs. "Here," she says, leaning over and offering Saki her skewer.
Saki’s frown turns from the burnt marshmallow to Shiho. "I can just toast another one, you know."
"So can I." Shiho shakes the marshmallow again.
Saki humphs almost inaudibly, but takes the skewer anyway. The marshmallow is perfectly toasted; Ichika can hear the crunch when Saki bites into it, and see Saki's eyes widen.
"So you are good at cooking something, Shiho-chan."
Shiho raises her eyebrows. "I'm sorry, what was that?"
It only takes a few moments for the conversation to devolve into cooking-related bickering. Ichika toasts another marshmallow silently, not intending to defend either of their questionable cooking skills. Maybe one day in the future when they have more time to spend at home, they'll be able to properly learn some sort of cooking together. The idea of that domesticity distracts her enough that she almost burns a marshmallow, too.
They eventually run out of marshmallows (Honami eats the most of them, followed by Shiho, Saki, then Ichika). Having returned to stargazing, Ichika listens to the sound of them from the edge of the picnic mat.
The mat shifts, and Saki appears next to Ichika.
"Icchan," she murmurs. When Ichika turns to look at her questioningly, she doesn't make a sound; instead she wraps her arms around her knees and looks up. After a moment she leans into Ichika. It's much less tactile than what she's used to from Saki, the pressing of shoulders together instead of a hug, but she doesn't mind. Saki seems to be quieter, more introspective.
Happy to just exist here. Ichika knows exactly what that feels like.
Behind them, Honami and Shiho are talking in low murmurs. Shiho laughs, quiet and brief, and even though it isn't directed to her, a warm thrill rushes through her chest.
"Icchan," Saki says again, her tone faraway, as if she's saying her name just to feel it on her lips. Ichika turns to look at her and falls in love all over again, just like she has years ago.
There had once been a time where Ichika would just have stared, and resigned herself to simply staring. But now, she can let her heart tug her head down until her lips brush a warm cheek and press lightly. And a few years ago, under these same stars, Saki would almost definitely have blushed, but now she smiles, turning her head to properly kiss Ichika.
Four years of this, of laughing and caring and loving, and Ichika still isn't used to the rush of happiness she gets when she kisses them. It's more muted now, a soft glow instead of a rush of heat, but it warms her all the same.
Ichika doesn’t even realise she’s off balance until her back hits the mat and they separate. Startled, her eyes fly open, and in a moment of disorientation all she can see is Saki; Saki with the night sky behind her, the starlight casting her in an ethereal glow, turning her hair a shade of light gold. The sight makes Ichika lose what little breath she had after falling.
Saki's gaze flits over Ichika, something a little stunned in her eyes. “Sorry.”
She'd landed half lying on Ichika, their legs tangled together. The solid pressure of Saki's body weight, along with the way she's silhouetted against the stars, is so distracting that Ichika can barely find the words to reply.
"You taste like marshmallows," she manages to say. She sounds a little breathless, and it comes out much less teasing than she'd meant it to, but Saki beams, the brightest star in the sky.
"As if you don't," she laughs softly. Her hand is braced on Ichika's chest, its presence comforting, and Ichika doesn't want her to leave just yet. So she hooks her arm around the back of Saki's neck, pulls her down, and loses her breath all over again.
When Saki pulls away the second time, her hand is on Ichika’s cheek. Ichika wonders what had made Saki stop— usually Ichika is the one who has to pull away— but Shiho strums the guitar again, and Ichika looks up to see that she's pulled out their acoustic guitar.
Shiho blinks at them. "Oh, I was just tuning."
"The moment's ruined anyway," Saki pouts. As Shiho goes back to tuning the guitar, Ichika and Saki pull themselves up to a sitting position, although Saki still manages to sneak in a few kisses; two to Ichika's nose, one on each cheek, one more on her lips, not that she's keeping track.
Shiho ends up playing the tune of one of their songs, and Ichika groans but sings along to it anyway. Honami joins in by drumming the skewers on her knees, and Saki starts playing air piano soon after. It’s a little—a lot—pathetic compared to the sound of their entire band, but they put their all into it, not-playing their instruments for all they're worth.
They end up mock playing through an entire song, ending on a final guitar strum that quickly dissipates into the night air. What follows is the sound of wind, then silence. The silence in which they'd usually catch their breath, revel in the song they'd finished, and let each other bring up any mistakes they'd made.
This time, none of that happens— until Shiho speaks up.
"Saki, you were early on the bridge."
She says it in her most serious voice, and Saki opens her mouth as if to apologise, then closes it again. A moment later, they all burst into laughter.
“Ah, shoot, Shiho-chan, you got me!” Saki cries, and another wave of giggles escapes her lips.
Ichika takes the guitar from Shiho, who's not bothering to hide her grin. "I really had you guys. You should've seen your faces."
They've long since progressed past the point where Shiho has to point out their mistakes before they can catch them themselves, but the early days of her listing their areas for improvement are still ingrained into them. Back when they'd still been trying to catch up to her, prove themselves worthy of standing next to her, vigilant of every turn of her voice and every piece of feedback given.
Ichika sets the guitar into her lap and settles her hands on it. "My turn now. Let's see how well you play air bass."
It turns out that Shiho is terrible at air bass. She takes it way too seriously, frowning and trying to place her fingers on the imaginary fretboard, her other hand hesitantly strumming at nothing. She looks so distressed at the lack of a physical bass that halfway through the song, Ichika starts laughing too hard to continue singing properly, which prompts Shiho to frown at her and Honami to take over the singing instead.
Ichika plays through a mixture of the setlist of their recent concert and random Miku songs, every song coming more naturally than the next and her girlfriends singing along with increasing enthusiasm. The acoustic guitar makes their songs sound much more mellow instead of energetic, but Ichika likes that these songs will never be heard like this anywhere else. Their songs with this guitar, four voices blending together, and with the wind carrying the melody along and up.
Their own little concert under the stars. Ichika sings her lyrics, their lyrics, her best attempts to put out her feelings into the world through words. But it isn’t true, not exactly. There’ll always be a part of her that she keeps to herself: the pure adoration she has for the three people always next to her, no matter what. Because it's not just that they're dating; it's that these three people are the ones she loves most in the world, the ones who she would do anything for. Her friends, her best friends above all.
She’s tried to put her feelings into words, into songs and her voice, but she can’t. She doesn’t think that she’ll ever be able to. All she can do is spend the rest of her life trying.
And in this field under the shining galaxy, Ichika continues trying.
After they’ve had their fill of the stars and Saki yawns thrice in the same minute, Honami gently suggests they make their way back to the van to rest for the night before they all end up asleep in the field.
"I'll carry the chairs," Ichika offers, standing up. Her joints crack as she does, and she stretches out her limbs after so long spent on the ground.
“It’s fine, I’ll…” Honami trails off, and Ichika looks at her to see that Saki is leaning against her, her eyes closed. “Saki-chan?” She pokes Saki’s shoulder experimentally. “Let’s go back to the van, c’mon.”
“Mmmmhh,” Saki says. Honami and Ichika share a wry look.
“What are you– oh.” Shiho turns, having already taken a few steps toward the van. “Let’s just leave her to sleep on the ground.”
Saki yawns. “Not asleep yet. Shiho-chan’s s’ mean.”
“So you can talk but not walk twenty steps to the van,” Shiho says.
"Exactly," Saki says, muffled from where she huddles closer to Honami. "You're sleeping on the ground later, Shiho-chan."
Honami’s shoulders shake in silent laughter. “It’s alright, I can carry her. Can you two pack up all the other stuff?” When Ichika nods, Honami gently props up Saki's head. "Okay, Saki-chan, put your arms around my neck…"
Scooping one arm under Saki's legs and looping the other around her back, Honami picks her up bridal style with Saki clinging to her neck. After taking a moment to adjust her grip, Honami strides away.
Watching them, Ichika feels her heart flutter a little; Honami has carried her like that once, mostly as a joke — and only for a few seconds before Honami had put Ichika down, exclaiming that she wasn't strong enough — but recalling the way her feet had been swept completely off the ground, and the steadiness of Honami's arms… her girlfriend is definitely attractive, and it does things to Ichika's heart.
“Honami spoils her too much.” Shiho's voice snaps Ichika out of her thoughts, and she shakes her head in mock disapproval before turning back to the stove.
Ichika snorts.
“What?”
“Weren’t you toasting marshmallows and feeding them to her just now?”
Shiho purses her lips. “Hand me that chair," she orders brusquely, avoiding the question, and Ichika grins as she picks the chair up.
“Let’s get back in quickly, it’s getting a little too cold.”
Spoiling Saki is something of a tenet of their relationship, whether they've collectively acknowledged it or not. Between Honami showering her with all the physical affection she wants, Shiho giving her the first bite of every meal they have, and Ichika refusing to leave the bed in the morning until Saki wakes up, over the years they've fallen into the habit of spoiling Saki rotten, their quiet way of returning all the love and joy she gives them.
When they arrive at the van, Honami and Saki are already cuddled together on the bed. Honami lifts her head to smile at them as Shiho busies herself with tidying the inside of the van. Ichika starts to unpack the bags, but Honami stops her.
“We can leave that till tomorrow, Ichika-chan,” she says. “Come to bed, please?”
Somehow, hearing Honami ask that makes Ichika’s heart flip in the exact same way it did years ago, when she’d first heard those same words from Honami. She doesn’t think she’ll ever stop treasuring the fact that she gets to share a bed with them.
Saki yawns again as Ichika slides an arm around her waist. Usually, trying to sleep in the same bed is an ordeal of arguing over who sleeps in the middle, but tonight it seems that they’ve all silently decided, with Saki in the middle and Ichika on her left. Ichika waits for the last of them to get on the bed, but the sounds of shifting continue.
“Shiho-chan? What’re you doing?”
Shiho holds up the sleeping bag she’d dug out of the cupboard. “Sleeping on the ground?”
“Wha– I was joking, it's going to be cold, come over to cuddle,” Saki pouts, and Ichika doesn’t miss Shiho’s smile as she climbs into bed behind her.
It's a tight fit, cramped enough that Ichika thinks someone should probably take the floor after all, but they make it work with a little wiggling and squeezing. Besides, it isn't their first time squashing together in a bed that's too small to realistically fit four people; the hotel rooms they've stayed in with only one king sized bed can attest to that.
When they finally get comfortable, Ichika sighs as she’s enveloped in warmth. She hadn’t noticed until she and Shiho had been packing up by themselves, but the night really had turned especially cold. But all that is immediately forgotten once she has Saki in her arms and Shiho at her back.
"Hey, Icchan?"
"Mm?"
Saki shuffles so she's facing Ichika. "Goodnight kiss," she says, pursing her lips slightly, and Ichika obliges.
Even with this brief contact, kissing Saki always feels like it lights a spark between them. It doesn’t always grow into a flame, but the flash of brightness, the flicker of warmth is always the same no matter what.
"Love you," Saki mumbles when Ichika pulls back, and impulsively, Ichika kisses her again— once, then two more times for the bubbles of fondness that swell and then burst in her chest. Her own way of returning the three words.
Saki mumbles something that sounds like Shiho-chan, reaching a hand past Ichika to grab blindly for her.
They sit up, and Saki threads a hand into Shiho's hair, pulling her closer to press her lips to hers. When they separate, Saki kisses Shiho's nose and giggles at the startled blink she gets in return.
"Love you too, Shiho-chan," Saki says. Shiho just makes a muted sound of acknowledgement, but Ichika feels the smile pressed to her skin when Shiho curls herself against her back.
"Saki-chan," Honami says in an insistent tone after a few long moments.
With a put-on sigh, Saki wiggles around in Ichika's embrace to kiss Honami.
“Love you the most,” Saki says, and Shiho stirs.
“The most?” She almost sounds indignant.
“Well… she carried me back here,” Saki tries to defend herself.
“That’s unfair and you know it,” Ichika retorts.
"We can't all be drummers," Shiho chips in.
Honami clears her throat. "There, there, guys…" Her hand reaches past Saki to awkwardly pat at Ichika's waist.
"You're one to talk," Shiho grumbles, but their faux argument peters out after her interjection.
Ichika finds herself smiling— not consciously, but it's something she's grown used to after so many years with her girlfriends.
Saki yawns. "Have we decided who's driving first tomorrow?"
"I nominate Saki." Shiho traces a nonsensical pattern on Ichika's stomach, her touch light but not enough to be ticklish.
"I can drive. Saki probably wants to sleep in," Ichika says.
"Yay!" Saki cheers, throwing her arms around Ichika, jostling the other two to the side in the process. "You're the best, Icchan!"
"You're still going to drive in the afternoon," Ichika reminds, but she smiles as Saki buries her head in Ichika's neck. She'd drive the whole trip if it meant Saki would be happy, she thinks. Then she wonders, if she voiced it aloud, if Saki would take her at her word and insist she do just that.
The bed shifts a little more, Saki's breaths fanning across her skin as they all get comfortable again. Ichika slips her hand down to rest on Honami's hip, her other arm still around Saki's shoulders. It's both familiar and not; squeezing onto one bed like they always have, but always in different positions.
"Goodnight," Honami whispers.
"Goodnight," Ichika says. Shiho just grunts, Saki grasps for Honami's hand and intertwines their fingers, and they fall back into silence again.
Hearing all four of them breathing together, in such close proximity that she can't tell where her own breath begins and ends, and feeling nothing but the press of limbs on her skin; their presence is suddenly so strong that it's all Ichika feels. With a jolt, she realises how foreign this feeling has unknowingly become.
Even across the span of this one day, she's felt closer to them than in the past few months. She hasn't stopped loving them, it would be impossible, but they haven't had much time to themselves in a long while. Somewhere along the way, girlfriends had nearly started slipping into band members who share a house. But today, surrounded by the very foundations of not only the universe, but them, they've reconnected in a way that Ichika desperately needed.
It's like she's fallen a little more in love with them.
And knowing that there’s still space for that, that no matter how full her heart becomes, she'll always find a way to pack more love in, is comforting. She wonders if they feel the same way, too— but she already knows the answer to that, with more clarity than the stars shining in the sky tonight.
Behind her, Shiho has already fallen asleep, and across the top of Saki's head, Honami gives her a sleepy half-smile. Ichika closes her eyes and falls asleep with three heartbeats in her ears.