Work Text:
“Read chapters 14 & 15 for next week,” says the teacher. Ichika lifts her head from the desk in a short-lived burst of motivation that is overrun by exhaustion within the next second.
She has enough time, at least, to note down the assignment before she loses any wish to study or learn any more history for the rest of her life. A glance at the board informs her that they’d been learning about the French invasion of Russia for the last hour. She tells herself that she’ll go over it tonight, and has some hope that she’ll actually do it.
Avoiding learning history has led her to almost-failing, and she’s fine with that, but if almost-failing turns into actual failing, she might have a bit of a problem.
“Ichika,” says a familiar voice. Shiho, clearly bothered with her lack of haste packing, is standing behind her, an annoyed expression on her face.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she promises, and she hurriedly closes her laptop and tosses that and her textbook - which she did not have to close on account of never having opened it - into her bag.
“We’re going to miss the pizza,” complains Shiho. Shiho doesn’t like history any more than Ichika does, but this manifests in a constant hunger, rather than constant fatigue.
“As long as the coffee machine isn’t broken, I’m happy,” Ichika responds.
Maybe she’s cursed, she thinks, staring at the coffee machine with a piece of paper that says ‘broken, sorry :(‘ taped onto it.
“You jinxed it,” Shiho remarks, holding a piece of pizza. At least one of them gets what they wanted, Ichika decides.
“Did you get the history notes?” she asks as they find their usual seat next to Honami and Saki.
Shiho sighs, “Kind of. I got bored halfway through and started doodling Shinonome. Y’know, the guy that sits beside me? He looked kinda constipated and I thought it was funny.”
Honami looks up in alarm. “Why are you drawing constipated people?”
Shiho just shrugs, and when Honami’s gaze turns to Ichika, she waves her hand in a hard to define gesture that tries to communicate the general sentiment of ‘that’s Shiho for you’. Honami seems to get the message.
“I still have my notes from when I took that class,” she says, instead of pursuing the Shinonome topic further. “If I give them to you, will you promise to actually listen in history? I am very worried about your grade.”
Ichika leans back on her chair, “You drive a hard bargain, Mochizuki.”
When Honami doesn’t respond, she sighs. “Fine. But if I fall asleep, that’s not my fault.”
“Well,” Saki begins, but she’s interrupted by Honami.
“Drink more coffee, then.”
“The machine’s broken,” Shiho and Ichika say in unison.
Honami glares at them, and Ichika assumes a sheepish expression.
“I think…” Honami begins, looking thoughtful, “I still owe you for helping me through physics last year.”
Ichika is unsure whether this means Honami will give her her notes or not.
“What I mean to say,” Honami continues, “Is that I can teach you some history, if you want me to.”
“I love you, Honami,” she replies emphatically, grinning.
Honami blushes, but maintains her level gaze. “Do you want me to?”
“Of course she does,” Shiho puts in, “She’s just a little too proud to accept help.”
“I think you’ve got you guys mixed up, ‘cause that’s you,” jokes Saki, and the conversation devolves from a serious discussion into those two making fun of each other.
Well, they both think they’re making fun of each other. Ichika can tell they’re flirting. She exchanges a knowing glance with Honami.
While the other two are otherwise occupied, she leans over and whispers, “Thanks, Honami. It- well, it really means a lot.”
Honami smiles, smiling in the kind way that only Honami can, a genuine smile that warms Ichika to the bones, especially because it’s rarer now than it was when they were kids. Just having that smile aimed at her makes her want to smile too.
“I just want you to pass history,” Honami says, earnest as ever, “And don’t go thinking I won’t be harsh to you. I’ll do whatever it takes…”
Ichika raises her eyebrows, “I believe you, Honami. I am fully prepared to be screamed at.”
Looking satisfied, Honami leans back. “Good.”
Ichika can’t help grinning at that. “Good,” she repeats, and she interrupts Saki and Shiho’s conversation by bringing in her complaints about the coffee machine.
“I have my exam in two weeks,” Ichika confesses once it’s her and Honami alone in the room. They’re all roommates, but Saki and Shiho have gone somewhere, probably tolerating Saki’s brother to give her and Honami some space.
Honami’s eyebrows scrunch together in a way that is positively adorable, but Ichika doesn’t have long to focus on that. “Are you serious? You waited ‘til now to tell me this?”
Ichika, suddenly intrigued by a speck of dust on the carpet, sighs. “It didn’t seem relevant earlier!”
“Not relevant? You-” Honami, who isn’t often seriously angry, seems close to it now, but Ichika attempts to console her with a grin. Apparently, it works, because Honami doesn’t finish her sentence, and instead takes the seat next to her.
Ichika, not trying to anger Honami, quickly opens her textbook. “Well, I need to go over what we did today first,” she begins, and Honami nods along as she continues, perpetually there whenever she’s confused (which is a lot).
“And what year was that?” Honami asks, finally at the end of a series of questions, all of which Ichika has miraculously managed to answer correctly.
Ichika stares at her blankly, racking her brain for a date that eludes her. “Um.. 1806?”
“Yes!” Honami jumps up from her chair and wraps her arms around Ichika in a hug that leaves Ichika’s insides feeling all muddled.
“I knew you could do it,” she adds with a smile, and the certainty in her voice makes Ichika want to cry.
Honami has always been the kindest of their little group, and her unshakeable belief in Ichika, although certainly only from a place of friendship, sparks the hidden part of Ichika that wishes it could be more.
This isn’t the first time she’s thought about it, and it definitely won’t be the last. It started when they were kids, she thinks. Everyone had started talking about romance and all Ichika had been able to think about was her friend, and how much she’d missed her.
Even when they reconciled, Ichika had expected the feeling to go away, but it didn't. Now, she supposes that it’s just stayed all this time, never fading despite how hopeless it seems.
None of their group have dated anyone before, although she suspects it won’t be long until Shiho and Saki stop being idiots and realise their feelings for one another. She’s always been too hung up on Honami, and possibly too good at hiding it, and she knows all too well, from rather painful experience, how good Honami is at hiding her feelings.
If, and that’s a big if, Honami does like her back, she doubts she’d find out any time soon. She knows, at least, that Honami likes girls, because of sleepover confessions in high school that had ended in all four of them sobbing and hugging.
She doubts, still, that Honami could possibly like her, possibly because she feels inadequate, like years of a crush have put Honami onto a pedestal. That’s not it, though, because she knows Honami completely, her flaws as well as her good traits, and that just makes her love her more.
Love is a word she tends to throw around; she loves her friends, of course, because platonic love comes easy to her. In this situation, it fits perfectly, but that doesn’t mean she will admit it.
She watches Honami now, smiling with pride in Ichika but also in herself for her teaching abilities, and Ichika begins to twirl a piece of her slightly-too-long bangs. Her friendship with Honami, moments like these, are too good to risk, no matter what chance she has of developing something more.
“We can take a break now,” Honami says, and Ichika is more than a little relieved. She’s crammed a ton of history into her mind, and she’s pretty sure that her brain will start forgetting important things if she has to fit any more in.
Like, yes, she now knows when each Second World War battle took place, but if she can’t remember her own name, how much use will she be?
“I’ll get us some drinks,” she says, going to the fridge to grab a nondescript fizzy drink for herself and an apple juice for Honami.
The other girl thanks her as she hands the drink over, and they sit in silence for a moment.
“Do you think they’ll get together soon?” Honami asks eventually, ‘they’ clearly referring to Shiho and Saki.
Ichika considers for a moment, turning her head sideways as she always does when she’s thinking. “Depends on your definition of soon. I don’t think it’ll happen tomorrow, but by the end of the year? Sure.”
“Shiho’s never really been great at communicating feelings,” says Honami, and Ichika snorts, aware that she’s right and also holding back a comment about the fact that Honami is equally bad at that.
Honami understands, though, and replies, “I’m not as obvious about my feelings, though.”
Ichika nods in understanding, then as the words sink in, hope blossoms in her stomach.
She decides to be brave. “Do you like someone, then?” she teases.
Honami flushes pink, just a little, but Ichika won’t take that as confirmation. She waits, a singular eyebrow raised, for Honami to answer. Eventually, she does.
“Maybe…” she begins, slowly, “But don’t ask about it. I don’t think anything will come of it.”
It’s now or never, Ichika decides. “I like someone, too, y’know.”
Honami looks surprised for a moment, “I don’t suppose you’ll tell me who it is.”
“You can guess,” Ichika says, wanting to see where this goes.
“Or I can do what I’m meant to be doing, and teach you some more history,” Honami answers firmly. For now, Ichika’s window is closed, but knowing Honami likes someone has already made her more confident.
She struggles through the next hour, trying her best to remember everything and appreciating Honami’s kindness even when she is being a complete and utter moron.
Finally, they are finished, and Ichika is so exhausted that she’s leaning on Honami’s shoulder while Honami has her arm around her.
A display of affection typically correlated with romance would usually worry her, but at present she is too tired and Honami’s shoulder is too comfortable for her to care.
“Thanks,” she mutters, for what has to be the millionth time today.
Honami’s response of “That’s what friends are for,” makes her ache, but she knows it shouldn’t. It’s only that she’s allowed herself to hope, and she can feel that hope dwindling with every second.
But Honami doesn’t stop talking. “Although, I just thought you should know, Ichika. I was a little selfish about this. I didn’t help you because we’re friends, I helped you because, well…”
She trails off, and Ichika briefly wonders if she’s dreaming. Things like this only happen in her dreams.
“...Because I like you,” Honami finishes, and Ichika has to turn and look Honami in the eye at that, to discern whether she’s being honest. She doubts it intrinsically because she doesn’t believe that anyone could like her, yet she doesn’t- she can’t doubt it, because Honami is too good to ever joke about something like this.
“I like you too,” she says, rushing over her words to get them out quick enough, to ensure Honami that she does in fact feel the same. But that isn’t the whole truth, and she knows it. It’s only fair that Honami knows it too.
“I love you, really,” Honami’s eyes widen in surprise, but she doesn’t interrupt. “I’ve loved you since middle school, I think. I don’t know if that’s what you want to hear, but I’ve known it long enough that I think I have to tell you.”
“Ichika…” Honami begins, and Ichika squeezes her eyes closed, afraid of what comes next. She knows Honami likes her, but like and love are quite different.
“Ichika, why wouldn’t I want to hear that?”
That gets her to open her eyes, and she swears Honami is about to cry. Compelled by the force in her that hates to see her friend said, she sweeps the other girl up in a hug.
“Ichika, you loving me is nothing but a good thing, because I love you too. Since high school, I think.”
“I win,” Ichika mumbles into Honami’s shoulder, and Honami, despite the situation, despite her tears, lets out a giggle.
“It’s taken both of us ages, regardless. At least now we can beat Shiho and Saki by being together before them. If that’s what you want, I mean.”
Ichika smiles. “Of course that’s what I want, you idiot.” She pauses, and a mischievous grin appears on her face. “Maybe it’ll incentivise them.”
“God, I hope so,” Honami says, beaming as she takes Ichika’s hand and leads her to the sofa. They sit next to each other, hand in hand, and Ichika feels warm and comfortable.
Honami’s presence has always done that to her, but now it feels amplified, since the pain and the worry of her feelings being unrequited has disappeared. It’s just her and Honami, sitting peacefully next to each other, and she can’t help but think that it’s how things are meant to be.
She’s never been a romantic, but Honami makes her one.