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Mizuki is fundamentally a fool.
It’s something she's always been at least acutely aware of. Though gifted kid syndrome had made reality harder to accept at first, the world had made it easier by reminding her. Like right now when she was standing, casually clothed in the negative degree tundra that was a late December night. She swears it wasn’t that bad when she’d packed, that a light jacket should’ve been enough, but…
She's shivering.
It’s not pleasant being on a hill, cold and alone, with only yourself to blame. The only bright side is that it didn’t snow last night, which is a pretty bleak thing to be happy about. It just means she can sit down. People always said to move around when you’re cold, but as much as Mizuki wanted to do that, the heavy weight of exhaustion and reluctance was hitting hard , and it made even the idea of movement difficult to fathom. She’d rather curl up.
So she does, nestled on a small grassy patch beneath a tree, watching the time tick by on her phone. 10:55pm. She's still got five minutes before Ena’s supposed to arrive. Because it was bad enough being underdressed, she just had to be early too. Mizuki shudders and leans on her knees, keeping her fingers inside her sleeves and cupping her shaky breaths.
Five minutes to wait.
That’s not so long, is it?
When Ena finds Mizuki, in fact only three minutes later, she's huddled on the floor in the foetal position, hugging herself tightly— so tightly that she almost doesn't even notice Ena's approach, too occupied in her own shivers.
It’s when Ena steps on a stick that Mizuki jolts upwards, equipping a grin that breaks in her barely suppressed chatters. “Hey Enana—”
She's immediately cut off as Ena hunches down and pries her hands from the floor, paying no mind to the dirt. “Your hands are so cold,” she mutters, massaging them with her soft, warm palms.
Each press breathes more life into Mizuki, and she wants to just melt into Ena's touch. It’s tempting, it really is. The only thing stopping her is a morbid awareness of what doing such a thing could actually imply, how she could only disgust her, so she refrains.
Ena’s smarter than her. She’s wearing a cute yet practical winter coat, a soft pink that’s weirdly reminiscent of Mizuki's hair. She hasn't seen this coat before. It looks new, though it wasn’t something she’d bought on any of their recent shopping expeditions. She’s got a great fashion sense. It’s not always the same as Mizuki's, but they do tend to align with each other more often than not. It was both a blessing and a curse, where matching garments were easily found just as easily as one-of-a-kind discounted treasures that only one could have, igniting an instant squabble. (The kind where you keep insisting the other takes the thing, that you’ll be alright without it.)
…
Was that why she’d bought it without her?
Mizuki bites the thought away, turning her attention back to Ena. She realises she's stayed quiet for a beat too long and that Ena's studying her with scrutinising eyes. It’s uncomfortable. Not in a necessarily bad way, but in a way where she can’t help the feeling that she should be saying something to fill the gap. Ena’s staring at her so intensely, Mizuki could almost mistake her cold-flushed cheeks and concern-parted lips for something else… But that’s wishful thinking.
Think, Mizuki, think. She needs to say something. At times like this, Mizuki falls back on her endless, unrelenting charms—or rather, the fact that Ena’s so easy to fluster. This is no different. With all the mustered grace of a belly flopped swan dive, Mizuki pulls her best, sly tease. “You can keep them warm if you like.”
Ena deadpans. She’s not supposed to, but she does, and her kneading stops. “You know, that would’ve been a lot smoother if you weren’t shivering.”
It’s not the reaction she was expecting and Mizuki can’t help but be caught off guard. A twinge of panic pulls at her gut. She’s getting too used to you.
Ena notices her surprise and smirks. She takes her hands off Mizuki's, leaving searing ghosts of touch, then moves them to cup her cheeks and worry displaces her smile. “I’m being serious, Mizuki,” she’s leaning closer and Mizuki can feel warm breath ghosting her face. It’s exhilarating. It takes everything to ignore the fact that Ena’s basically straddling her now, and Mizuki can only hope she thinks her blush is still from the cold. “Didn’t you bring another layer?”
“I… No…” Mizuki whispers, too mesmerised by her touch to elaborate, even when she quirks an eyebrow questioningly.
“No? Why not?” She demands, but as soon as Mizuki opens her mouth to respond Ena cuts her off. “Ah, forget it,” she huffs, pulling away and unzipping her coat.
Mizuki barely has a moment to register it when she pulls her into a hug. And even then, it takes her longer still to process as Ena threads her hands around her waist, locking them to where she’s warmest. The new weight on her shoulder isn’t at all unwelcome, but Mizuki can’t help the flinch of surprise that comes when Ena rests her chin, and it leaves as suddenly as it arrives. The few working connections in her brain stop Ena from leaving entirely with a tentative tug.
“Mizuki?” Ena whispers from a close distance. She’s giving her a confused look, one that demands attention but Mizuki’s unable to meet her gaze. Her eyes train on a tree behind her, and Mizuki can only study her fluctuating expression through her peripheral. “Is this okay?”
The waver in her voice hurts. It’s strong enough that it overrides the doubt in her system and Mizuki snaps back in panic. “Sorry I just—” she pauses, scouring her mind for the perfect quip to break up the moment. Usually they come so easily, but something about the loose tilt in Ena’s eyebrows is fraying her mind and nothing’s coming up at all. She can only hold her searching gaze, taking in the way her eyes narrow in the telltale sign that she’s making deductions. She’ll probably let go soon; Mizuki doesn’t want that. It can’t happen; she can’t let it. It’s not worth it, she decides, forfeiting the endeavour to tease in favour of tugging her back, close. Ena makes a small noise of surprise but doesn’t complain, accepting the position easily. Mizuki— albeit hesitantly— takes it as an all-clear to nuzzle into her, and she lets out a quiet gasp that softens into a satisfied hum as she mumbles the one coherent thing that comes to mind. “Warm.”
There’s a small moment when Ena doesn’t seem to know what to do, stiffening for a split second in Mizuki’s arms. She quickly relaxes, however, returning to perch on her shoulder, her slow breaths sending shivers down Mizuki’s exposed skin as arms climb up their waist— and oh, she’s playing with her hair. Careful, rhythmic pulls and twists tempt her further from reality as Mizuki finds herself edging closer, securing her tighter, until Ena breaks the silence with a question. “How long have you been out here?”
“Not long,” Mizuki mumbles, leaning into her caramel perfume, “maybe twenty— no, thirty minutes?”
She yelps in surprise as Ena lands a soft but sudden tap on her back. “Thirty minutes? Without a coat in this cold? Mizuki, you idiot! What if you get sick?”
“It wasn’t that cold when I checked!” Mizuki protests, though it occurs to her that the check had really just been sticking a hand out the window while being more preoccupied with trying not to burst from excitement, instead of checking the weather app like a normal person.
There’s another warm wave of air as Ena lets out a heavy sigh. “What will I ever do with you?” She grumbles, though there’s no venom to it as she soothes her back with slow, gentle circles. “You’re too careless. I worry about you, you know?”
“I know, Enanan,” Mizuki breathes. She sounds like she’s pouting. It’s such a cute image that despite it all she finds it hard to suppress a smile, opting to burrow into her neck even if it isn’t necessary; her face feels hotter than ever. “I’m sorry.”
Ena clicks her tongue. “You should be. What am I supposed to do if my partner can’t make it to the next Nightcord meeting?”
Her voice wavers at the word ‘partner.’ Mizuki’s not sure if she was imagining it, but she’s sure it does because it sends chills through her spine. Partner. It has a clear double meaning, though she can only mean it in the correct context— partner as in Niigo’s editor, not the other meaning, the one Mizuki really wants it to be. Ena notices it too. It’s probably more awkward on her end since she used it unintentionally, and she coughs before adding the necessary clarification.
“What would Niigo do without their video editor?”
Well, it was nice to flirt with the impossible while it lasted.
Mizuki hums, feigning consideration. “I’m sure you’d get by,” she laughs like the idea is new to her, “you’re all so skilled I bet you wouldn’t even need—”
Ena pokes her again, lightly. “Don’t be stupid,” she warns, her voice low and dangerous in a way that really shouldn’t be accelerating Mizuki’s heartbeat in the way that it does. “We’d fall apart without you. It wouldn’t be the same at all, do you even realise how much you mean…” She trails off and Mizuki’s breath hitches. The lazy pattern she’d been tracing on her back comes to a stop as Ena draws in a breath— audibly. Mizuki can hear her sucking it through her teeth. “...to us?”
It’s nonsensical to think that she could’ve been talking about anything else. Mizuki shouldn’t be disappointed, but she is, and she tries to hide it by closing her eyes, only letting herself feel the soft rustle of Ena’s hair as she shifts subtly to face her. She should give her an answer, but Mizuki can’t find it in herself to reply.
The silence speaks for her. Ena tenses and Mizuki hears her take another breath, as if she’s about to say something, then decides against it and exhales. In the way she always appreciates, Ena doesn’t push her further as she slinks her arms around her waist instead and rests her head, likely looking up to the stars. “I’d like to hang out as a group again sometime soon. Not like the after parties, like—”
“The mystery tour?” Mizuki suggests, talking more into her shirt than her ear.
Ena delays her response, opting to lean into her more first before speaking. “Yeah. Exactly like that.”
I’d like that too.
But just before Mizuki replies, Ena shudders. She’s still warm, but Mizuki isn’t sure how much of that is because she’s colder, and she can’t help the need to edge away, though she can’t find the strength in herself to do so. “Sorry for making you cold, Enanan.”
“It’s fine.” She doesn’t hesitate to cling tighter, and for a moment Mizuki wonders if she feels the same reluctance too. It’d be nice if they were on the same page, not wanting the hug to end for better or worse, but it was probably just because holding someone was warmer than holding nothing. Or that Ena was too kind to let go, even if it was hurting her. Mizuki doesn’t know how to help, but staying still didn’t seem fair. On impulse, she does the first thing she thinks of and draws Ena closer, daring to press into her just a little bit more. It seems to work because she doesn’t push back, instead letting out a gentle hum. “You can make it up to me by bringing a proper coat next time.”
Mizuki’s so engrossed in the pounding of her own heartbeat she nearly misses it. “Next time?”
“These fireworks are an annual thing, remember? They’ll be on next year too.” Ena’s voice has lost its usual edge, and Mizuki’s never heard her speak so softly. “We might be able to get Kanade and Mafuyu to come next time .”
Next time?
She repeats it like a promise, or a threat, though it's another one Mizuki struggles to believe. There won’t be a next time; she already knows better than that. As it is, she’s already overstayed her welcome in Ena’s life—in Mafuyu and Kanade’s as well. Leaving is the last thing she wants to do, but she’s never wanted it before—it just happened, and happened, and kept happening until it became a fact of life. A fact of Mizuki. She doesn’t want to think about what things will be like a year from now because, as it goes, all good things must come to an end. And even if it’s greedy, even if it makes Ena hate her more when the time really comes, she wants to selfishly savour every last second of her kindness.
So Mizuki lies. “Yeah, you’re right.”
Neither of them speak after that. It’s a comfortable, relaxed silence, and Mizuki’s not sure either of them want to break it, but one has to because there’s a glaring issue.
“Speaking of fireworks… How are we meant to watch them like, erm—” she stammers, nearly flubbing it. “—this?”
Ena groans and her grip tightens. “How much longer do we have?”
It’s a little awkward as Mizuki shifts to check her phone. “Well.. It’s 11:57 right now, so… three minutes.”
“How did it get that late? I swear I just got here,” Ena echoes the sentiment in Mizuki’s mind before continuing, “nevermind that— can we just stay like this a little… Actually no, you’re right.”
Mizuki tries to ignore the pull of disappointment in her gut as Ena’s hold loosens. She takes it as a signal to do the same, and the bitter cold hits her the very second she lets go. Somehow it’s much harder to deal with than before, and she has no choice but to pull the ends of her jacket together, trying to capture as much of Ena’s lingering warmth as possible.
To her surprise, Ena doesn’t zip her coat up. She takes it off. It exposes her thick grey turtleneck and she shuffles to a slightly flatter spot on the hill facing the view, then glances at Mizuki expectantly. “Stop staring and hurry up.”
“Hurry up?” She repeats blankly. Ena’s staring at them like it should be obvious and it’s a little unsettling.
“Come sit—” Ena cuts off as her face goes bright red in a way Mizuki can’t put down to the cold. She doesn’t finish for a good few seconds, only searching her with frantic eyes and staying otherwise still.
Eventually she gives up on articulating entirely and gestures to her lap.
“Huh?” Mizuki blinks dumbly. Because there’s no way she means what she thinks she means. Even if she looks like she’s about to explode, if her cheeks are puffed up with embarrassment and if she looks like she wants to crawl out of her skin right there and then. She can’t mean it.
Mizuki’s expecting her to falter. To explain this terrifying implication away so things can be normal, predictable again, but she doesn’t. She’s not looking at her anymore, whether it’s because it’s too hard or because she wants to do Mizuki a favour and spare her the pressure, and it comes out quietly. “Just do it.”
“Do what..?” She still doesn’t understand. Everything Ena’s doing is pointing to something, but that something is so unreasonable and impossible of an ask she could only dream of it. No, she must be talking about another thing. Mizuki needs a clear and concrete answer, because what she has right now is simply impossible.
Ena’s features crease up. “Mizuki! Can’t you just—” Mizuki flinches and she stops. “Sorry,” she whispers, glancing back with a conflicted gaze. “Here,” she does it again. She points at her lap. “Sit. Here. Don’t make me ask you again.” Mizuki can’t help but find it cute when she averts her eyes one last time, “please.”
Mizuki’s legs aren’t shaking from the cold when she stands up. It’s a difficult trek, the half metre between her post and Ena’s invitation but she makes it eventually. “Um,” deciding where and how to sit is difficult. She already knows she’s bony, so sitting in the wrong place could easily be painful, but Ena’s watching her silently and maybe just a little impatiently. Mizuki licks her lips nervously as she chooses a spot. It isn’t exactly on Ena’s lap, it’s more on the dirt, but it’s the best compromise she can think of. The grass here is a little shorter. It’s not going to stain her clothes, and it’s close enough to keep proximity. With time it’d be comfortable enough…
“Oh, for crying out loud,” Ena mutters. All of a sudden she wedges herself behind Mizuki, draping her coat over her body like a blanket. “We have to… stay close for this, okay?”
How close she meant Mizuki isn’t sure, less sure as Ena’s chin leans into her shoulder, and reaching hands weave their way right around her waist.
“Don’t get any funny ideas,” Ena adds, though she's the one pressing closer, and Mizuki can’t reply. Because, for the hundredth time that night, her mind short circuits from Ena’s proximity.
Ena’s warm. She always has been, and not just on a physical level. She’s warm, soft, careful as she tames the flyaway hairs poking up from Mizuki’s head. Mizuki doesn’t even mind it when Ena asks to undo her ribbon in that tender, quiet voice she’s been using so much, nor does Mizuki mind it when she combs through her masses of hair, touching and playing with it like she’s never let anyone else before. She’s even indifferent when the chilly breeze picks up. It’s not cold, Mizuki realises, or if it is, she can’t feel it. Not anymore.
The fireworks will start soon.