Archive of Our Own ^beta

When Aoi is three years old, a new boy moves into the apartment complex next door. She doesn’t learn about this by choice—it’s an off-handed comment over the dinner table, something about a kid her age with a name that matches hers.

“His name’s Aoi Akane. Isn’t that funny?” Aoi’s mom doesn’t sound amused, though. It’s her usual dry tone with a touch of detachment Aoi’s grown used to.

“I guess so,” Aoi says.

“Maybe you’ll bump into him some time.” That’s the end of their talk, because there isn’t much more to say. He is nothing to her as of now, just a faceless name that doesn’t mean anything. Her dinner is the more pressing matter at hand. She chews on her mashed potatoes and tries not to dwell on it.

“I’m going on another business trip starting Tuesday,” her dad says, breaking the atmosphere.

“Another? Really?” her mom says.

Aoi stares at her plate and tries not to ask him to stay. She manages to succeed, but mostly because she knows how he’ll respond. As her parents start yet another whispered argument they all pretend Aoi can’t hear, her mind drifts back to Aoi Akane and wonders what he’s like.

She first hears about him then, but it takes another three days for them to meet. Her mom is there to witness it, alongside the boy’s parents. Her dad is on his business trip, because of course he is.

Aoi’s first thought is that the boy is nothing like she expected him to be. It’s hard to achieve that seeing how she had no expectations in the first place, but he managed to do so. Brown hair and brown eyes stare at her as if she’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. For a while, neither of them says anything, instead checking each other out. There’s something about him that bothers her, but she can’t place her finger on what.

The boy is the first one to break the stalemate. “Hi!” he says.

“…Hi,” Aoi says back, unsure.

He nods, seemingly satisfied, and then holds out his hand to shake. “My name’s Akane. Let’s be friends!” Akane’s grin is wide and as bright as the Sun, and Aoi knows that they’ll never get along. She’s always been good at reading people, and he’s the type of person she hates. He’s someone whose laughter comes easily and can make new connections in an instant—everything she’ll never be.

There’s no use in leading him on, so she ignores his hand and tells him, “No.”

Aoi’s always been good at reading people, yes, but she has no idea what the look on Akane’s face means. It’s neither sad nor angry as expected, but something else. Before he has a chance to reply, though, Aoi’s mom gets the first word in with: “Aoi. Don’t be rude. Say you’re sorry right away.”

Aoi crosses her arms and stares at the ground, but the concrete doesn’t offer anything interesting to the table. “Don’t wanna,” she mumbles.

Her mom squeezes her shoulder tight enough to hurt. While her mom rushes an apology to Akane’s parents—She’s usually not like this—Aoi glances up to see Akane staring at her.

“What?” she says, sullen.

“It’s nothing.” But it doesn’t look like nothing to her. Nothing is the blank look in her parents’ eyes whenever they have a conversation. Akane is the opposite of nothing—his eyes are full of sparks. Aoi doesn’t like it because it’s scary and new and not something she’s used to.

Akane doesn’t follow up on what he was saying, because Aoi dashes back into her house before he gets the chance and holes herself up in her room. Her mom attempts to coax her out, but she refuses no matter what. No matter what it takes, she’ll never speak to Akane again.

But unfortunately, things never go her way, because halfway through dinner later that night the doorbell rings.

“I’ll get it,” Aoi says, putting her fork down and getting out of her seat. She likes doing stuff like this, because it makes her feel mature. Grown-ups do stuff like get the door when someone rings it.

“Make sure to ask who it is before answering,” her mom says. “If it’s a stranger, come grab me instead.”

“’Kay.” Heavy footsteps plod along the carpet as she walks toward the front door. “Who is it?” she says, ear cupped against the door.

“Akane. Your neighbor,” the voice replies back. Aoi purses her lips. “I wanted to say sorry.”

Aoi’s eyebrows crease. Say sorry? Why would he do that? She’s the one being mean, but she can’t bring herself to care.

“Why?” she says out loud.

“Well, it seems like I did something wrong, and my mom told me to say sorry whenever I do.” Akane pauses. “So, sorry.”

Silence. Aoi doesn’t know what to say. How does one reply to that?

“Are you here by yourself?” is what she comes up with.

“My mom’s at the end of the hallway.”

“Oh.”

“Um, well… I still wanna be friends,” Akane says. “So…”

“Just go away and leave me alone,” Aoi says, and dashes back to the dinner table before she can hear his response.

“Who was it?” Aoi’s mom asks.

“Nobody important,” Aoi says. It’s not a lie. Her mom doesn’t press further, instead directing her attention toward the food on her plate. Thankfully, the doorbell doesn’t ring again.

Despite what Aoi said, Akane never goes away. He’s like a fly—buzzing around whenever she steps out of the house, annoyingly adamant in becoming her friend. Aoi refuses to crack, though. Either out of stubbornness or genuine disdain, she isn’t sure. Maybe a mixture of both.

(There’s a deep rooted curiosity in her, though, one that nags at her no matter how hard she tries to push it down. The longer he stays, the more she realizes she was wrong about him. Akane’s nothing like he appears to be on the outside; he’s someone that keeps her on her toes. Contradictory traits—patient yet hotheaded, friendly yet rude. They’re two messed up peas in a pod, two people pretending to be something they’re not. Everything down to their names are similar, Aoi Akane and Akane Aoi. Curiosity killed the cat, and she strangled it to death herself.)

(So maybe, just maybe, that’s why she doesn’t try hard enough. Maybe that’s the reason why she lets him stay.)

But the biggest question she has is why? Why does he stick around if Aoi wants him gone? It’s simple—she builds up her walls and Akane barrels straight through them. No matter how many times she pushes him away, he’s always there, hovering. I’m not the person you think I am, she wants to scream. Don’t try to get close, because you won’t like what you’ll find.

He dares Aoi to climb to the top of the big oak tree in the middle of the park, and she does it because she’s never been able to back down from a challenge. All things considered, she’s doing pretty well. There's dirt on her skirt and leggings and the tree bark feels coarse in her hands, but she doesn't care.

“Don’t fall off,” Akane calls up to her, sounding worried. "I didn't think you'd actually do it." Aoi can’t see his face, but she can only imagine the look of horror on it.

“I’ll be fine.” Aoi grabs another tree branch and brings herself up. "It's not hard." Immediately after saying that, she stumbles. For a moment, there's a jolt in her stomach at the prospect of falling. It never comes, though—she manages to catch her balance and hoists herself onto the nearest branch. Her heart feels like it's beating out of her chest, but all that matters is she made it.

“I’m coming up.” Akane's voice shifts from nervous to urgent.

“Wait—” Too late. Aoi peers down to see him already on the second branch. He's fast. Faster than her, which is bothersome. "Akane-kun, you don't have to."

Akane grunts in response and continues to climb.

"Really, Akane-kun," Aoi tries again. She's tempted to ignore him and keep on climbing out of spite, but instead chooses to stare in amazement as Akane scrambles up to meet her in record time to prop himself on the branch next to her.

"Why'd you do that?" she asks.

"You were in danger."

"No, I wasn't. Now you are, too—or would be if I was." Now that she's taking a closer look, though, they're much higher than Aoi thought. While that wasn't a concern before, it now feels as if they're a million miles off the ground.

"So... how do we get down?" Akane asks.

Aoi blinks. That's when the realization sinks in: she doesn't know how to. She's stuck in a tree and the only person to keep her company is a boy she hates. Maybe they'll be here forever.

"I don't know," she says out loud, and the weight of the situation crashes down on her.

It takes thirty minutes for their moms to find them.

"Aoi? Akane-kun?" her mom says, cup of coffee in one hand and the other on her hip. "What are you doing?"

Aoi starts bawling instead of answering and Akane does as well, because whatever Aoi does, Akane is soon to follow. Even if she doesn't want him to. He pushes and she pulls away. It’s a practiced dance, one they’re well-versed in. Tears sting her eyes and her nose starts to run, but she can't seem to stop. It's a stupid thing to cry over, yet here she is.

Akane's mom grabs him by the waist and brings him close to her chest, murmuring, "Hey, hey—it's all right." After a moment's hesitation, Aoi's mom does as well. Aoi buries her head into her chest and sobs, even though she shouldn't.

Ten minutes later, after the sobs subside to sniffles and Aoi's feet are steady on the ground, she's placed on the curb and told to stay tight. That's fine, seeing how it gives her time to think.

She chooses to be angry at Akane for starting this whole mess and for daring her to climb up in the first place. He can say he didn't think she'd do it all he likes, but he should've known she would. So really, it's all his fault. The anger starting to boil in her gut helps curb the leftover tears. At that moment, she decides she'll never speak to Akane again.

She only has a few minutes to revel in her bold claim before she's interrupted by someone sitting down next to her. It's Akane himself.

“Hi,” he says. He's holding something in his hands. “Want a popsicle? My mom got some—told me to give you one.”

Aoi’s supposed to be ignoring him, but a popsicle’s a popsicle. She breaks her two-minute vow of silence by asking, “What kind?”

“I got orange and purple.”

Aoi can’t help but wrinkle her nose when he says purple. Akane seems to notice this, because he holds out the orange one and says, “Here.”

“Thanks.” Their hands touch as she takes it from him. Despite it being for a second, her fingers feel sticky as she licks her popsicle. It's good.

“Do you not like purple?” Akane asks as he bites into his own, making a face.

She should say no, but she’s already been caught. “…Yes.”

“Me, too. I hate it.” He has a knowing smile, as if they’re both in on a dirty secret.

“Oh,” she says. “Then why’d you take it?”

“Because it’s yours as well. I don’t mind if it’s you.”

"You shouldn't."

"Why not?"

“Because I don’t like you." She’s made it clear many times before, but it seems he needs a reminder.

“I know.” Akane doesn’t seem bothered by it. “You don’t have to. I like you anyway.” His smile warps into a purple-stained toothy grin, full of affection and glee. As Aoi licks her popsicle once more, she thinks to herself—maybe this boy with his sickeningly sweet eyes that makes her stomach churn isn’t so bad after all.

It’s gotten to the point where Aoi would call Akane a friend without hesitation. After all, if they aren’t, what would they call this—late night sleepovers where they talk until they're unable to keep their eyes open; her pushing him on the swings and not off the playset? There’s the added complication of Akane falling in love with her, sure, but other than that it’s a normal friendship.

She learns not to mind much over time as it quickly becomes part of their routine. Akane fawns over her, and she brushes him off without a second thought. It’s become as much of a truth to Akane as wariness is to Aoi. You learn to accept it as an Akane trait; he is passionate, stubborn, and in love with Aoi.

(But there’s a thought that nags her at the back of her mind: Would he still say the same if Aoi was her messed up, complicated self? Would he still love her, or would he be disappointed—disgusted? She doesn’t want to ask, because she wouldn’t know what to do if he said no.)

Akane’s a lot of things. He’s annoying, frustrating, and all other synonyms to those; someone who manages to make her angrier than she’s ever been before. But he’s also the only person who’s willing to be her friend, someone privy to her not-so-nice side and still doesn’t mind. And so, finally, she decides to let him in.

The older they grow, the more people start to pay attention to the two of them, for very different reasons. Akane’s supposed to start playing sports and roughing around with the other boys, and Aoi is supposed to look cute and pretty and pretend it doesn’t bother her. She's had eyes on her ever since the start, but this is something else entirely. They're at the age where the other girls on the playground start whispering things about the boys roughing around in the sandbox, inconspicuous giggles and stolen glances that show there's something underneath the surface Aoi's missing. Is it something one grows into over time—calling them cute or squealing when their crush so much as glances at them?

"What's it like?" Aoi asks one time. She and two other girls are loitering by the jungle gym. She wishes she were anywhere but here, but Akane's nowhere in sight and the last thing she wants to do is be alone with any of the other boys. (That's another thing that confuses her: the way they line up and get down on their hands and knees professing their undying love. Why? Was it something she said? Something she did? And why does it make her feel so hollow?)

"What's what like?" Yuuka says.

"Y'know. You like Seiji-kun, right? What's it like?" Is it in the same way of Akane's like—unwavering devotion and adoration—or something else? Yuuka doesn't go to the extremes Akane does, but maybe that's an Akane thing. He puts 110% into everything he does, and this is no different.

"Mm…" Yuuka taps her finger on her chin as she leans against the jungle gym. "I dunno. I just do."

"What about Akane-kun?" Michi pipes in. "Do you like him?"

"Akane-kun? Don't be silly." Aoi laughs and waves her off. "He's…"

Huh. What is he? Akane and all of his Akane-ness is hard to describe. More than a friend, but nothing like a crush. Yuuka's answer wasn't very helpful, but that means Aoi should know, right?

"He's different," she concedes. He's far more than different, but it's not something these girls she barely talks to will ever understand, especially if she herself doesn't.

"You're lucky, Aoi-chan," Michi says with a sigh as she slumps over the railing. "The guys are all over you."

Aoi doesn't feel lucky. She doesn't feel lucky that she has to be on guard everywhere she goes in case someone pops out with a confession. She doesn't feel lucky that she now has a mask she has to permanently keep on, if only to not shatter the image she's been putting up. She doesn't feel lucky, because they aren't in love with the real her—Akane least of all. After all, if he did, he’d know that she hates all of this. The constant confessions, the way he looks at her, she can’t stand any of it. He’s confusing—someone who sees the real her, yet doesn’t at the same time. Someone who ignores all of her twisted parts, both for better and for worse.

"Mm. Maybe," she says as she traces an incomprehensible shape in the dirt with her foot. Here's the thing—Aoi's anger is hot like coals, always simmering beneath the surface. With each and every confession, all she feels is hatred. (There’s something else there as well, something she doesn’t want to admit, even to herself: fear. Fear at what will happen if she says no. Smile and laugh it off, and hopefully she’ll make it out unscathed.)

“Ao-chan!” Speak of the devil, there Akane is. He’s holding his signature baseball bat, which looks a little too worn for comfort; there’s a splotch of color she can’t make out on it.

“Akane-kun? Why does your bat look like that?” Aoi asks.

“We were just talking about you, Akane-kun!” Michi says with a sly grin. She hops off the playset and leans forward with her arms behind her back. “Whatcha doing?”

Thankfully, Akane ignores her. “These guys came up to me and asked for advice on how to ask you out. I told them to back off, but they said no.”

“That’s dumb,” Yuuka says. “They were stupid enough to ask you?”

“No matter what, I’ll protect Ao-chan from everyone else.” Akane puffs out his chest and beams, and Aoi remembers. That’s right—she’s not alone. No matter what, Akane will be there. As Yuuka and Michi chatter away with him, Aoi bites back a sliver of a smile.

On the days Aoi can’t stand to be in the husk that’s meant to be her home, she finds herself standing on Akane’s doorstep. It’s a sight that’s become as familiar to her as her own house; the merry chime of the doorbell soothes her with its familiarity. (It’s one of the only consistencies in her life—no matter how messed up everything becomes, this will never change.)

“Let’s run away,” she blurts out the moment Akane opens the door, not even giving him the chance to say hello.

Instead of asking stupid questions like What happened or Why, Akane says, “Where are we going?” That’s what Aoi likes about him—he doesn’t go poking around in places he shouldn't be. The one thing he needs is to be in her life, and he manages to piece things together on his own.

"I'll show you."

“Can I let my mom know first?”

“That ruins the whole point of running away.”

Akane considers it for a moment before he concedes with, “That’s true.”

“So just come with me.” Without thinking, Aoi grabs his hands and tugs him toward herself. His palms are sweaty. “Let me show you something cool I found.”

Akane’s face is bright red as he squeaks out, “O-Okay.” And of course he does, because Aoi expects no less. Wherever she goes, he is soon to follow. It’s a simple law of the land.

Said destination is a small pond tucked away in what feels like the corner of their world—or maybe just their neighborhood. It’s a place her dad showed her the other day, even going as far as giving her directions.

“Why are we here?” Akane asks as Aoi takes out the clips and pins in her hair. It falls down from its usual donut shape and hangs at her shoulders.

“We need a place to run away, right? I thought this would be good. Besides, my dad brought me here and taught me something I wanted to show you.”

Akane’s eyes sparkle, and Aoi isn’t sure if he’s genuinely interested or if it’s because she’s the one teaching him. “Really? What is it?”

“Skipping rocks.” The words feel anticlimactic, like she should’ve said something grander.

If Akane’s disappointed, he doesn’t show it. “You’re going to teach me?”

“Yup.” Aoi picks up a rock, throws it in the air, and catches it with one hand. “That is, if you want to learn.”

“Of course!” Akane exclaims. “If it’s Ao-chan, I’ll learn anything.”

Aoi’s fist clenches, and the other one throws the rock across the lake, just like she practiced. It skips six times. Not a new record, but pretty impressive.

“Wow… You’re amazing, Ao-chan,” Akane says. “Will you marry me?”

“No can do,” Aoi says. She bends down to pick up a rock and places it in his hands. “It’s your turn to try.”

Akane throws it clumsily across the lake in the same way you’d throw a baseball. As she expected, it sinks to the very bottom without fanfare.

“Not like that,” Aoi says, shaking her head. “Let me show you how first.” Akane blinks, disappointed, but then nods.

He’s not very good at it at first; his stance is too sloppy and his throws are too weak. But over time, he finally manages to get it. Aoi will never forget the look of pure ecstasy on his face as he whoops in delight and throws his hands in the air. It’s the same thrill she got when she first succeeded, only more composed. But the feeling still remains.

After that, it’s just them—Akane, Aoi, and the ripples that echo across the lake with each stone thrown. While he’s not as good as she is, he’s slowly getting better the more he practices. Aoi’s almost proud of him. It’s… nice. Really nice. Every time she does a good throw, Akane looks at her the same way he looked the first time, with all the adoration in the world. Full of love and pride and everything she doesn’t deserve.

There’s a fundamental difference between the two of them. Aoi thought they were the same, but they’re far from it. She’s only pretending to be a good person, while Akane actually is. She didn’t give the boy next door enough credit, and she gave herself too much. So why does she keep him around if that kinship is no longer there, now that her curiosity has been satiated? Maybe it’s the little things—tall trees and baseball bats and smooth stones cold in her hands leading to this unnecessary affection that runs deep in her veins.

That’s what she’s thinking about as she blurts out, “If you could have any superpower in the world, what would it be?” It’s a silly question, but she needs something to break the silence, lest she suffocate in her own thoughts.

No response. Aoi glances at Akane to see his face scrunched up in concentration. "Akane-kun?"

"Lemme think."

He's taking this more seriously than Aoi intended, so she does as well. What does she want? It's a weighted question with a million potential answers. Flight, telekinesis, reading minds—they’re all good choices.

“Anything that could protect you,” Akane decides. “What about you?”

She’d like to stop time, she thinks, so she can live in this moment for as long as she likes. No worries of returning to loud arguments or dead silence—she isn’t sure which is worse.

“Invisibility,” she settles on. They both know it’s an answer enough.

"That sounds pretty cool. I wonder what that would be like." Akane’s rock skips four times. It’s one of his better attempts, but not the best. Aoi’s own record is nine.

Aoi shrugs. “I guess so,” she says. “Wanna do a competition? Out of the next five we throw, the winner is the one that gets the most skips.”

Akane stares at her for a moment with his signature starstruck, all-encompassing eyes, and then grins.

The two of them come back home when the sky turns dark, dirty clothes and wide smiles on their faces sharply contrasting the night sky. Akane gets a long scolding and is sent to his room without dinner, and Aoi gets nothing at all. Her parents didn’t even realize she was gone.

Aoi’s birthday is in a week. She’s expecting a talk about a party when her parents sit her down to talk, but what she gets is something else entirely.

Divorce. Her parents use a lot of other fancy words, but Aoi gets the gist of it: her dad is leaving and never coming back. He says he'll come and visit her, but she has a sneaking suspicion he won't. Her mom stares her down with judgmental eyes that reek of blame, screaming things like it’s your fault that this is happening, that we’re going through all of this.

Aoi shouldn’t have said anything; her mom's right. She's the one that caused all of this. What did she do wrong, though? Why did it make everyone so upset? Adults are strange, and this is no different. She knows she's not welcome here for now, so she yet again finds herself ringing Akane's doorbell.

“Hi, Ao-chan,” Akane says, breaking into a smile as he opens it. Aoi can't stomach the look on his face: warm, inviting, and delighted to see her.

“My parents are getting divorced,” she says in lieu of a greeting, and hates the way she revels in seeing Akane's expression fall.

She's ushered in without another word, led to the kitchen table and forced to sit down. Akane lingers in the middle of the kitchen, swaying back and forth on his heels with his hands clasped behind his back.

"What are you doing?" Aoi asks, brow furrowed.

"Um, want me to get my mom?"

"No," she rushes out, "don't." Please. The last thing she needs is for someone else to see her like this.

Akane nods and clears his throat with his fist. “Oh, that’s… Yeah. I can do that.”

“You’re making it a bigger deal than it is.” She doesn’t know if she’s lying or not.

“Are you sure you’re not mad?”

It’s an interesting question—instead of asking if she’s surprised or sad, it’s if she’s angry. (The honest answer is yes, Aoi's furious. But it’s not the correct answer. It's not an answer the Aoi that Akane is in love with would give. The Aoi he smiles so tenderly for wouldn’t sully herself with unladylike emotions such as anger.)

“I’m fine. It’s been a long time coming," she replies. A part of her wants him to put his fist down and say, No, you’re not, but it never comes. Coward.

“Okay." Akane gives her a strange look. “Just know you’re allowed to be.”

“I know." Curt and to the point. Something akin to annoyance bubbles up inside of her, but something else as well. Something she can’t place. If Akane sees her wipe indignant tears from her eyes, he doesn’t comment on it. He’s always been good at not pushing too hard, even when he should—even when Aoi wants him to. He knows her better than anyone else in the world, yet at the same time it’s as if they’re a million miles apart. How are you able to see through me so easily, yet are still blind to what I’m really like? To this day, she still doesn’t understand him.

“Let’s play a game,” he says instead. “We haven’t done so in a while. I’ll grab my controllers?”

Aoi blinks. It’s a lifeline he’s handing her, a way of avoiding the issue at hand. A distraction instead of letting her get lost in her thoughts and wallowing in self-pity. If it’s a good or bad thing, she isn’t sure, but it’s an opportunity she’ll take. Talking about her feelings is hard, and this is no exception. (There’s a part of her that wants to scream, though, to cry and shout and release the feelings that consume her. Part of her wants Akane to realize that she desperately needs someone to talk to. But she can’t say it, can’t get the words out. To do so feels like defeat.)

“Sure,” she says, “but don’t let me win just ‘cause.”

Akane shakes his head. “Ao-chan, I would never.”

(He loses anyway. She’s always been better than him.)

Aoi turns eleven in the beginning of September. In celebration, she boards herself up in Akane's room without saying a word to anyone else.

"What's in the bag you brought?" Akane asks as Aoi dumps it on his bed.

"I'm giving you a makeover."

"A... what?"

"A makeover," Aoi repeats slowly as she unzips the bag and takes out the makeup. It's a nice one she stole from her dad that he missed in his hurry to leave. (To leave them.)

“Oh.”

“Sit on the bed,” she instructs. He complies without complaint, and she starts to get to work. “Let’s play a questions game.” She starts with applying foundation to Akane’s face. His face is close, but a comfortable enough distance. “One person asks, and the other one has to answer.”

“Sure,” Akane says without hesitation. “Why?”

“Is that your first question?”

“I guess so.”

“No reason. Something to do.” She doesn’t like the silence; it feels too much like home. Akane is loud and fills the space with his words and his warmth, and that’s the way she likes it. “What’s your favorite food?”

“Whatever you’ll make me.”

They swap back and forth for a while, occasionally pausing while Aoi does something he needs to sit still for. Nothing big, just the little stuff. They get into a comfortable rhythm over time as they near the finish line.

"What's your biggest fear?" Aoi asks as she adds eyeshadow. She’s almost done.

"Losing you." Akane says it instantly, without even considering any other options. "What about you?"

It's something like that for her as well, but it's less about him and more about losing stability. He's one of the only things she has left that doesn't leave an uneasy feeling in her gut. The parts she both likes and hates about him will never change. (There's so much to like and hate as well. She likes him for the things that she hates at the same time.)

"Mm. I'm not sure. The dark, maybe?"

"I'll protect you, then. You don't need to worry if you're with me."

“I’ll be fine on my own,” Aoi says as she applies the finishing touch. She stands up and pulls back to admire her work. "I’m done,” she says. “It looks good.”

"Do you think so?" Akane's voice borders on the verge of hopeful.

"Yup." It's not a lie—Akane looks ridiculous, sure, but it suits him in a strange way. All things considered, she did a pretty good job. “Go take a look.”

Akane gets up and peers at himself in the bathroom mirror for a long time. Aoi fiddles with her hands as she shifts in place. Does he think it's ugly?

"I like it," he decides with a sense of finality. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

There's a small twinge in Aoi's chest as she replies with, "Two points." Two out of one hundred. That’s not what she needs right now.

Akane sighs, but doesn’t seem caught up on it. He’s always been good at bouncing back. “But seriously, thanks,” he says. “It’s really good. How long have you been doing this for?”

Aoi doesn’t remember exactly when she started wearing makeup, but it was earlier than most girls. She’s always been naturally pretty, so people started looking at her. Appearances are important to someone who’s supposed to be perfect. She doesn’t particularly like doing it, but she has no say in the matter. It’s not like she can’t go back to being just plain old Aoi. “A while now.”

“Well, I think you’re beautiful either way,” he says. “This is impressive, though. You even managed to make me look like—” Akane gestures at the mirror, “—this.”

“…Thanks.” The compliment feels good—it feels different from all of the ones she usually gets. It causes the twinge in her chest to be replaced with something warm.

“Could you do it again some time? I had fun.”

Aoi can’t begin to know what he’s thinking most of the time, but now even she can see that he’s telling the truth. It’s the way his smile is a little softer around the edges, how his eyes crinkle in all the right ways. “Sure.” She smiles at him, and she can’t help but think that it’s the best birthday she’s had in a long time.

“Why do you love me?” Aoi asks one day. They’re sitting at Akane's kitchen counter playing cards. He's beating her by a considerable margin, but it's not unwinnable.

There’s a brief pause before Akane sets down the winning card and replies with, “Because it's you.” Unabashed, just as always.

It’s supposed to be an answer, but all it does is leave more questions. But because Aoi is a coward, she doesn’t ask any of them, instead frowning and placing her deck on the table in defeat.

And then, they start middle school. That’s when everything changes.

“Why did you suddenly start wearing glasses?”

“I… felt like a new look?”

Liar.

One time Aoi made an off-handed comment about being impressed by the number one scorer on the exams. The next time they come around, Akane shoots up seventy-five ranks to become the top of the class.

“What are you up to when you disappear after school?”

“Just a little self-improvement!”

Liar.

Aoi said something about admiring the student council. When the next election comes around, all Aoi can see is posters advocating for Akane to become the class representative.

“Are you hiding something from me?”

“Of course not! I would never!”

Liar.

Aoi made a passing glance at the boys on the sports team, more lightly intrigued than anything. It seems Akane misunderstood, because two weeks later, she spots Akane towing a boulder with Lemon sitting on top of it.

As most childhood friends tend to do, they drift apart. It’s not something they explicitly agreed upon or even acknowledged in the first place, but to anyone with eyes it’s as clear as day. One could technically blame Aoi, yes, seeing how she’s the one who started pushing him away. But she wouldn’t have to if Akane wasn’t a liar in the first place. He’s not good at keeping secrets, never has been. They stack on top of each other, threatening to topple over and crush them both. A part of her wants to beg him to tell her what he’s hiding, but the other, meaner part of her doesn’t want to care. Akane doesn’t deserve her worry. He doesn’t deserve to be in her life, because he is a liar. He has become yet another person to be wary of, so she swallows her hurt and lets him go.

It’s as she lies in bed awake late one night that she realizes what happened: Akane figured it out.

On paper, Aoi is better—she’s pretty and popular and nice. However, it’s also true that she’s spiteful and cruel and bitter at the world for the hand she’s been dealt. (The pieces that make up Akane Aoi are fractured shards that no one bothers to try and pick up. Do so and they cut your finger, causing blood to gush out. People both love and loathe the image of her they’ve made up in their heads, so being anything less than perfect isn’t good enough.)

On paper, Akane is worse—he’s loud and sardonic and crude. But it’s also true that he wakes up every day and chooses to be kind, despite it not being in his nature; he cares about Aoi more than he cares about himself and was a shoulder to lean on when her thoughts overwhelmed her. She’s more scared now than ever, but Akane is no longer by her side. He finally sees her for who she truly is, without all the sparkles and frills, and that’s the reason why he left. She’s no longer worth his time, so she hates him for it.

Like with most things, there are upsides. There’s no more half-hearted confessions that leave a sour taste in her mouth and cause her jaw to clench. Nene is now there to distract her, with silky hair and bright smiles that makes Aoi’s breath catch in her throat. But there’s a hole in her heart that she’s too proud to try and patch up.

Once again, Aoi's anger is hot like coals, only now Akane isn’t there to put them out. So she lets it consume her—directs it toward everyone else. Her parents, her classmates who see the image she's put up, and Akane most of all.

(She doesn’t care, she doesn’t care, she doesn’t care. Aoi doesn’t care, because she can’t allow herself to.)

It's raining cats and dogs, and Aoi finds herself standing underneath the roof of the school alone. It’s her fault for not checking the weather beforehand, but that doesn’t take away from the fact she has no other way to get home.

“Ao-chan?” Aoi hears someone say from behind. She doesn’t need to turn around to tell it’s Akane. Not even considering the silly nickname, he always manages to be right behind. A compass tuned north towards Aoi, because wherever she goes, he is soon to follow. No matter what changes in her life, that will always be an indisputable truth. For better or worse, she isn't sure. "Did you forget your umbrella?"

"...Yes," Aoi says as she turns to greet him. She isn't sure why it's so hard for her to admit it. People forget their umbrellas all the time; it's a normal occurrence. (Ao-chan isn't a person, though. She's pretty and perfect and an empty shell filled to the brim with expectations.)

"Want mine?"

"Your... umbrella?"

"Yup." Akane's already taking it out of his bag and attempting to wrestle it open.

"But what about you?"

"As long as Ao-chan is dry, I'm all right." He shoots her a grin, and Aoi feels something shrivel up and die inside of her.

"You take it, Akane-kun." She can't, can't let him do this because he's giving it to the idea of her instead of who she actually is.

Akane ignores her, instead shoving the freshly opened umbrella into her hands. "I want you to have it."

Aoi opens her mouth to protest further, but she's not given the chance—he dashes off into the storm with his bag covering his head to protect him.

"Wait," Aoi calls out. Before she has time to think she's following after him; her feet pound against the pavement as she runs. She's fast, but Akane's faster—he's just out of reach. His laugh is loud and clear even with the elements trying to drown him out. Aoi's reminded of a time before, when she could laugh alongside him without the taste of bile catching in her throat. Akane is wet and she is not because he's selfishly selfless, and Aoi despises him for it. They're both drowning in the expectations put onto them, but Akane shoulders the biggest burden of them all. The fact he's able to laugh like this is a miracle in and of itself.

They make it home in record time. Aoi’s a little wet—the umbrella couldn’t shield her all of the way—but Akane is drenched from head to toe. She’s sort of reminded of a wet cat.

"You're going to get a cold," she says with a frown.

"I'll be fine," Akane replies before sneezing twice.

Aoi shakes her head. “Come into my apartment. I think we have some medicine in there.”

Akane nods, and just like that, Aoi brings Akane into her house for the first time in years.

"Is your mom home?" Akane asks as Aoi fiddles with her keys.

“Nope. She’s working late today.” It’s the only reason why she’s letting Akane in; she knows she’d be barraged with questions otherwise. The door clicks open, and Aoi says, “You can sit at the table while I grab the medicine. Try not to get water everywhere.”

As Aoi goes to the bathroom and opens the medicine cabinet, she can’t help but remark on how… oddly impersonal this all feels. She’s categorizing Akane as a stranger in her mind instead of someone who’s allowed to trek dirt all over the house like he used to be. Akane, a stranger who lets himself get drenched under the pouring rain to keep her dry. She hates it. Hates him for becoming so distant.

“Akane-kun, I found the medicine,” Aoi calls out, but the words feel hollow on her tongue.

Akane starts carrying an extra umbrella with him to school after that.

"Why did you bring that?" Aoi asks.

"Just in case," Akane says. "You can never be too careful." Aoi wants to knock it out of his hand and smash it against the pavement until it's an unrecognizable mess, barely resembling what it used to be.

Aoi and Nene are walking back from the Gardening Club when they spot Teru and Akane by the front gates. Aoi’s about to call out a greeting, but she stops herself just in time.

“Oh, that’s…” she says.

Nene follows Aoi’s gaze, and then brightens. “It’s Akane-kun and Minamoto-senpai!”

“Wait,” she says, grabbing onto Nene’s arm. “Not yet.” From a distance, Akane flicks his forehead while Teru laughs. Even from this far away Aoi feels a spark of something. Are they—are they friends? When did this happen? Yet another secret badly kept, yet another drop in the bucket of lies.

“What are they doing?” Aoi says with a frown.

“Oh, yeah,” Nene says. “The two of them have been hanging out a lot recently.”

“Hanging out?” Aoi echoes, eyebrows raised. She thought Akane hated him. He’s been the subject of his rants many times before.

Nene’s always been one who easily succumbs to rumors and gossip, something which Aoi is now grateful for. She has a knowing smile on her face as she leans in to whisper in Aoi's ear, “Did you know Akane-kun was at his house earlier?”

“He was what?” Hook, line, and sinker.

"Minamoto-senpai passed out, so Akane-kun and I brought him home. During that time I left when we were taking care of the gardens. I had to get back to you, so I left Akane-kun there with Kou-kun—his little brother."

"That's what you were doing?" Aoi says, still processing. "Wait, Minamoto-senpai fainted?"

"Mhm. Don't know why, but Akane-kun seemed super worried. Hana—um, I mean, I asked if he died. That's how freaked out he was."

What does that mean? A million questions swirl around in Aoi's brain, threatening to overflow. She chooses to ask the stupidest one. "Is he all right?"

Nene gives her a strange look. "Minamoto-senpai? He seems fine to me."

Aoi takes a closer look at the two of them. Really scopes them out. What she's looking for is a mystery, but she seems to find an answer anyway. Akane looks… relaxed. He’s not smiling, but he seems happy. His shoulders aren't as unnaturally straight as they usually are, and the crease in his forehead is nonexistent. He’s better off without her.

Well, fine. She is as well. They haven't been friends for a long time—longer than Akane would think. Maybe he still assumes they still are now.

“Oh, but it doesn’t matter to me,” she says. “Nene-chan, did you hear about what happened yesterday in the lab room?”

Another thing Aoi is grateful for is that Nene knows when and when not to push, unlike someone. That’s why she lets Aoi change the subject even though it’s still obviously bothering her. Nene is everything good in the world, someone who acts kind just for the sake of it and likes Aoi for who she is. (There's always the underlying fear, though, that Nene will see who she truly is and leave, just like how Akane did. That she’ll decide Aoi’s not good enough to be graced with her warmth and praise. But Nene stays. Despite Aoi slowly sharing the uglier parts that prop her up, she never leaves.)

Aoi can’t sleep, which is something that’s become commonplace as time goes on—she can’t shake off the uneasy feeling in the corner of her mind. Usually when this happens, she curls up into a ball and tries to fall back asleep, but there are other times when she gives up on the idea and decides to go for a walk. It feels even later than usual compared to her usual ones on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but it seems it’s one of those nights. She can feel her stuffed giraffe boring eyes through the back of her head.

She isn’t sure what she was expecting when gathering her belongings into her purse—phone, granola bar, pepper spray—and walking outside, but it’s safe to say Minamoto Teru standing below Akane’s apartment complex was nowhere near the top of the list.

“…Minamoto-senpai?” Aoi says. “What are you doing here?”

The figure turns around to look at her, and yup, that’s him. She can barely make out the look of surprise etched onto his face in the dark. “Akane-san? What are you doing here?”

“This is where I live,” she says. “Why are you standing outside of Akane-kun’s house?”

“Oh, that?” he says—casually, as if it’s nothing out of the ordinary. (Is it?) “I was trying to get him to come outside, and he wasn’t answering my texts.”

“At—” Aoi glances at her watch, “—three in the morning?”

“Yup!” Shameless, just as always. “What about you? Why are you up at this hour?”

“I was going for a walk.” Aoi's been going on them more often as of late. (It helps clear her mind when the thoughts in her head start turning into static, when she can feel the eyes that follow her at all times even through closed doors.)

“Mind if I come along?”

Yes. “Don’t you have Akane-kun to be with?” she says pleasantly.

“Aoi will be fine on his own. Let’s get going, shall we?”

Aoi is about to protest further, but gives up before trying. There's no point in doing so, as it'll lead to failure. Teru remains someone she can’t put her finger on. He’s like a golden retriever—barging straight into the conversation and somehow managing to get what he wants, much like Akane all those years ago. He wasn’t someone she had interest in before, but ever since they started going on their walks, she's been taking notice. There’s something underneath that sunny smile that makes her pause. It's something one notices if they're paying close enough attention, or maybe it's only her. Everyone else seems to be fooled, even though she doesn't know what he's trying to hide.

“How often do you do this?” Teru asks as they begin to walk.

It seems there’s no shaking him off, so Aoi accepts her fate and answers. “Just whenever I feel like it.” She plasters on a smile and says, “What about you? Is it your part-time job tonight?”

“That? Ah, yes.” Teru scratches his cheek as he looks off in the distance. “We always seem to bump into each other, don’t we?”

“You were standing outside of my house.”

“Outside of Aoi’s house,” he corrects.

That’s… Wow. Aoi opens her mouth to respond, but then shuts it halfway through. At least it’s a decent segway into the question that’s been nagging at her the entire time.

“Speaking about that—you and Akane-kun seem to have grown close recently,” she comments, making sure to keep her tone casual. It doesn’t matter; it doesn’t mean anything. It’s fine.

"Oh, Aoi?" Teru doesn't seem shaken up at all. "I suppose so."

…What does that mean? She tries another approach. Maybe this'll reveal something useful. Something new. "He seems... like he's enjoying himself."

That gets a reaction out of Teru. He snaps his head around to stare at her, eyes wide. "You think so?"

Now she’s even more confused. "I mean, I don't know. I guess?"

Teru's smile shifts into something softer, something genuine. Something that shows he cares. Huh. "Well, that's good," he says. "I'm glad.”

“…I suppose so.”

They don’t say anything else after that, just walk in silence. It’s nice, because she doesn’t feel the obligation to fill it up with words. She allows herself to relax for the first time in what feels like forever. For as much as Teru may baffle her, it’s easier to be off guard in the middle of the night when someone else is around.

“Aoi cares about you a lot, you know,” Teru says after a while, sounding almost bitter. There’s a sad smile on his face. “Far more than me. Even if you’ll never love him back, make sure to take care of him.”

The thing is, Aoi isn’t so sure if that’s true. Akane doesn’t care about the real her anymore, the one that’s ugly and twisted and nothing good. Aoi is watchful; she notices more than people think. She sees how Teru's eyes shine brighter whenever he talks about Akane, how he constantly brings him up in conversation. She notices the growing hesitation that seeps through Akane's voice with each and every confession, the way he no longer waits for her at the gates even when he's supposed to be free. She’s slowly losing her grip on him, and she doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

“I think you could take care of him better than I ever could,” she says. As she does, she knows it’s over. There’s no fixing their relationship now; she’s passing off the torch to someone else. Aoi's not able to make Akane happy anymore, so maybe Teru will. Does he deserve it, though? That's the bigger question. At least it takes off some unnecessary obligation she put onto herself.

(If that’s the case, then why does it hurt so much? Why does her chest ache something fierce that causes tears to prick at the corner of her eyes? She doesn’t know.)

Aoi wipes her eyes with her sleeve, and Teru has the decency to pretend not to notice.

And then, all of the sudden, her dad returns. It’s unceremonious—a crisp knock at the door one inconspicuous night. She's half-expecting it to be Akane. Nene doesn't know where she lives—Aoi doesn't allow her to come here, to be burdened with the weight of an empty home that reeks of shame and blame—so it can't be her. There aren't many options, really. Who else could it be?

It turns out to be someone she didn't even consider: her dad, sheepish expression on his face and a bouquet of flowers in hand.

Aoi blinks rapidly. "Dad...?"

He brightens. "Aoi! You're here!"

"Wh—What are you doing here?" They haven’t talked in what feels like forever.

“Can I come in?”

Aoi glances behind her. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” But the moment she says that, her mom turns the corner and notices them.

“Oh, good. You’re here,” she says. Wait, what? “Aoi, sit at the dinner table so we can have a talk.”

And then the two of them explain—they’re getting back together. A trial run. Nothing’s set in stone yet, but they both seem committed to the idea. Aoi only has one question, one left unasked: Why didn’t you talk to me? She hasn’t seen her dad in so long. He may be a bad one, but at the end of the day he’s still her father.

“…I’m going to go for a walk,” Aoi says. “I need to process.”

Aoi’s mom nods. “Take your time,” she says. “I know this is a lot to take in.”

Aoi’s out the door before her dad has the chance to say anything. Stupidly, she finds herself standing outside of Akane’s house. Akane the liar, who hurt her just as much as her dad. She doesn’t have anywhere else to go, though, so here she is.

Her hand hovers at the door, about to knock. Let's run away, she would say, like when we were kids. Back when the only thing they had was each other, when they spent their free time climbing trees and exploring the world. Before Akane became a liar and decided to leave her. They could pretend everything’s all right between them, that he didn’t leave her standing barefoot on glass shards alone.

She can’t do it. She can’t bring herself to knock. She’s tired; Her dad is back and she wants him gone, wants him to feel the weight of what he’s done. Her dad is here and Akane is not, in this cruel, messed up parallel universe that shouldn’t exist. Wherever Aoi goes, Akane is supposed to follow. However, this time he is a phantom, a figment of her imagination. (Stupidly, she wants him to chase after her, just like before.)

Deciding not to overthink it and bracing herself for the worst, Aoi takes a deep breath and rings the doorbell.

Nothing.

They changed their doorbell. For some reason, that’s Aoi’s breaking point. She turns away and runs before anyone has the chance to answer, tears in her eyes and a heavy feeling in her bones. She doesn’t know where to go now. What to do.

Aoi finds herself at the lake she and Akane used to visit together for the first time in years. It wasn't on purpose, but rather instinctual. Her feet brought her here on their own. (Or maybe that's an excuse. Both are possible.)

Everything about Akane has changed—his love, his doorbell, and the way he looks at her—but this place is the same. Maybe it never will, but with everything that's happened she has an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach. Nothing is concrete anymore.

There’s a suitable rock next to Aoi’s foot, and she picks it up. It feels exactly the same as it did all of those years ago, the weight and texture and temperature. She hurls it across the lake, puts all her anger into it. Anger at everyone: her parents, Akane, and herself. It isn't fair, it isn’t fair, it isn’t fair. None of this should be happening.

It doesn't skip this time, only sinking to the bottom with a deafening SPLASH. Aoi thinks she might cry.

“I love you,” Akane says, arms wide. For the first time, Aoi finally believes him.

“I love you,” she says back, and it feels like an anvil has been lifted off her chest. She always has, ever since almost the very beginning, but she refused to admit it. Caring for people is dangerous, and Akane is the most dangerous of all. It's something she's never said out loud, but it was always an underlying truth, rooting itself in her soul and growing deep within her to where it's impossible to dig out.

For the first time in years, Akane feels steady as she walks into his embrace. Akane is easy to like but hard to love; Aoi is easy to love but hard to like. Yet here they are anyway throughout the hardships, just two estranged childhood friends holding each other tight.

After everything is said and done, Aoi finds Akane at the shore of their lake. It’s not something they mutually agreed upon, but it seems Fate had other plans.

Akane cracks a smile upon noticing her arrival. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Aoi says, sitting next to him. She’s wearing her hair down, both out of sentimentality and practicality. “What are you doing here?”

“Just came to think,” he says. “What about you?”

“I suppose I did as well,” she says, and Akane nods.

They don’t talk much after that—just drinking in the sounds of the wildlife—but her heart still feels raw from what happened. In a good or bad way, she isn’t sure. Maybe both.

"It's nice." Aoi's the first to break the silence. "When was the last time you were here?"

"Not long ago, actually," says Akane. "I brought President Minamoto here. What about you?"

Aoi chooses not to dwell on that. "About a month ago, I think."

"Why?"

"I just felt like it." A lie, a truth, or something in between.

“Oh.” Akane stops to think, and then says, “Let’s play a game, Ao-chan.”

“What kind of game?”

“One person asks a question, and the other has to answer.”

Aoi frowns. “Like that time in your room?”

“You remember that?”

“Of course.” It’s one of the last times she was genuinely happy, when the weight of her worries didn’t crush her. “Why?”

“Just humor me. Something to do with a fresh start, right? I figured we could try to be honest for once in our lives.”

Honesty isn’t something Aoi’s used to, but for Akane she can try. “Um, all right,” she says. There’s been something that’s been bugging her for years now, something that she’s never gotten closure for. “If I’m starting, then…” Once again, she asks him, “Why did you love me?”

Unlike before, Akane gives her a proper answer. “Because you didn’t love yourself, so someone had to have enough for the both of us.” Huh. “Why didn’t you believe me?”

“Because you didn’t give any reason to. And why do you love me now?”

“Because you’re Ao-chan,” Akane says. “Because you deserve it.”

This is the type of vague non-answer the Aoi from years ago hated. But now she understands: Akane is Akane, and Aoi is Aoi. There’s no point in making it needlessly complicated, because everything about them is complicated enough.

“Okay,” she says.

“…Okay?”

“I’ll accept it.” The implication: I’ll believe you.

“Oh.” Akane’s smiling. “Well, good.”

“It’s your turn for a question.”

He stops to think before saying, “Why didn’t you say something?”

There’s an answer for that somewhere, but Aoi can’t find it. She chooses the next best thing. “I was hurt.”

“That’s not fair. You didn’t give me a chance. You didn’t tell me how to help you.”

“Why didn’t you ask?” It’s Akane’s fatal flaw—he pushes in all the wrong ways. He respects Aoi's privacy too much. He says all the wrong things and he knows something’s off, yet he doesn’t try to change the status quo, instead tiptoeing around the problem. A coward’s move, one Aoi knows all too well.

“You wouldn’t have told me.” It has the uncomfortable weight of a not-quite-answer as well, just out of reach. An excuse that has a ring of truth, because he’s right. “I can’t know how serious it is if you won’t tell me. Stop pushing me away.”

“Stop avoiding the problem.”

“All right.” A pause, and then Akane says, “I’m sorry.” Quiet enough that she has to strain her ears to hear.

There it is. A proper apology. Aoi’s been waiting for this for so long, yet it doesn’t feel like a victory. It feels like a new beginning.

“I’m sorry, too,” Aoi says. Something she never thought she'd say. They aren’t fixed yet—not even close—but they’re trying, building up the foundations of what they used to be step by step, brick by brick. This is a foot forward in the right direction. “Thank you.”

Akane grabs her hand, and she allows him to do so. She allows herself to let her guard down and just… let him in. It’s scary and new, yet exciting at the same time.

“We’ve got this,” Akane says. “I believe in us.”

“I do, too,” Aoi whispers, and lets the silly, hopeful feeling overtake her.