Work Text:
Minako had a problem.
“Oh, hey!” Ryoko smiled as she made brief eye contact with Minako, walking over as she found her seat next to her. The choir room was even more barren than it typically was, and it only made the closeness between the two of them all the more noticeable. “I was hoping you’d come to practice. I wasn’t sure after Yukari went home early.”
A 5’10, pale yellow scarf-wearing, overwhelmingly watermelon perfume-scented, second soprano, flirtatious problem.
She didn’t figure it out for a while. At first, Minako had thought that perhaps Aigis had been right in her declaration that something was terribly dangerous about Ryoko, and that was the source of the strange feeling in her chest whenever she was around. There was something off about her, though she could never find the words to describe how or what. Granted, she could never seem to find the right words to describe how she felt about anything, so that really wasn’t too much of a surprise.
She couldn’t breathe properly around her, Minako realized rather quickly after starting to hang out with her. It was like running a marathon every time she spoke or smiled at her, and it was just as uncomfortable as it was confusing. And the more time she spent with Ryoko, the more symptoms she noticed.
Her chest felt heavy when talking with her for too long, to the point that it made her feel sick at times. Her face started to feel warm when she smiled or laughed or, well, did much of anything, really. She started to feel this horrible, burning jealousy deep in her core when one of Ryoko’s fanboys (or especially fangirls) approached her after class, shoving Minako aside as if she wasn’t even there with the occasional side-eye or glare.
It was embarrassing that it had taken her this long to figure it out.
“Of course I came.” Minako stared ahead to the piano at the front of the room, trying to avoid looking at Ryoko as best as she could. Sitting so close to her was already a liability in and of itself, and she didn't want to risk losing herself even more than she already was. Minako wanted to slap herself, letting her emotions guide her to this extent, but she didn’t have the slightest clue what to do about it. She’d never felt this way about anyone before; it was entirely foreign to her. The only thing she could do was avoid eye-contact as best as she could, but between their proximity and the ocean-blue eyes that begged Minako to drown in them, she wasn’t sure how well she would succeed in that regard. “Yukari only went home because she was sick. She wouldn’t miss practice for any other reason.” Minako’s mind flashed back to all the times Yukari had stayed for choir practice even when she was exhausted, sick, had to go to archery straight after, or whatever other affliction that Minako definitely wouldn’t have put up with for a choir that sounded like nails scraping against a chalkboard. At least her motivation for showing up every week was more admirable than Minako’s. “Our concert’s in two weeks, so I had to come. It’ll be embarrassing if we suck.” That’s what she said, and what her reasoning would be if any of her friends asked why she suddenly seemed so passionate about a club she had initially joined only because the school required participation in an after-school activity of some sort, but, of course, there was more to it than that. She wanted to see Ryoko, mainly, as embarrassing as that was. She was beyond the point of trying to deny that to herself, despite how stupid it made her feel. It was all the more noticeable without Yukari here with her. There wasn’t anyone to distract her from her feelings, no one to shoot Ryoko a glare every time she said something a little too flirtatious, no one to keep them on track and prevent her heart from imploding in her chest.
“We aren’t going to suck,” she insisted, though Minako wasn’t sure she agreed. “But, still, this club doesn’t seem to be a top priority for some people.” Both of them looked around the room, and Minako sighed quietly as she processed just how empty the room was. There were only seven people including the two of them, and approximately zero of them seemed to actually be practicing. The director was nowhere to be seen, either, which was becoming an unfortunately common trend as of late. “I knew you’d come, though. I’m just happy to see you.” Minako’s traitorous eyes locked with Ryoko’s, and the smile she gave her made her feel sick to her stomach. Ryoko always had the brightest, most affectionate smiles Minako had ever seen, to the point that if they were coming from anyone else, she would have assumed they were fake. Minako envied her sometimes, being able to express herself in ways that she herself immensely struggled with, but she could rarely feel said envy over the rush of warmth that took over her body every time Ryoko flashed one of her heart-stopping smiles at her. “I see you all day in class, but there’s something different about spending time with you here.” Minako had to agree with her. Before Ryoko joined the Gekkoukan choir she had considered quitting and finding a different club to join, but now, it was what she looked forward to the most every week. There was something impossibly tranquil about getting to sing with her every week, especially considering their dwindling number of members resulting in a warm feeling of closeness that left butterflies in her chest. “I guess it’s that I get to keep you all to myself here, since your friend doesn’t seem to like me all that much.” She giggled quietly, eyes finding her way to Minako’s no matter how hard she tried to escape their iron grasp.
Oh.
“Huh?” Minako’s shock displayed itself in her voice crack and expression before she even had the chance to process what was happening. Ryoko let out another laugh, this one somehow even more gentle than the first, and for a moment, Minako felt like she was going to throw up from just how warm her body became. You can’t just say things like that, she wanted to scream, grabbing Ryoko by the shoulders and getting it through her thick, pretty skull just exactly what she was doing to her. She didn’t, though. Saying that out loud would not only require communication skills that Minako admittedly didn’t have, it also meant that she would stop. Stop giving her those smiles, stop saying those gentle teasing words that Minako liked to pretend were directed at her in particular even though she said similar things to almost all of the fanboys and girls that approached her, stop being Ryoko. And as much as it made her feel like her world was ending whenever Ryoko teased her, the absolute last thing she wanted was for her to stop. Good god, she felt like she was going to die if she stopped. “Yeah, I guess.” Minako tried her hardest to lower her voice back down to her normal tone, and succeeded better than she had anticipated. She managed to force herself to avoid eye-contact again, mostly because she wasn’t sure she’d survive if she had to look into those damn ocean eyes for another second. “With how things are going, it might actually just be us by next week.” That was supposed to be an exaggeration, but looking around, it didn’t seem like it was. The five other girls had already diminished down to three, and they all seemed to be showing each other messages on their phones rather than making any attempt at practicing. The two girls that had left had been the only other second sopranos in the room, too, which left Minako and Ryoko alone in their section.
“Would that really be so bad?” Again, it took a lot of restraint not to grab Ryoko by the shoulders and scream out in frustration. She was smiling at her again, Minako noticed out of the corner of her eyes, and it took more restraint than she had ever used not to look back over at her. She had no idea what she was doing to her, the bastard. “I guess we wouldn’t really have a choir anymore, though. And I doubt they’d let us use the practice room by ourselves.”
“If the choir shuts down I’ll have to do a sport,” Minako mumbled, once again avoiding admitting the actual reason she didn’t want the Gekkoukan choir falling apart. Sure, having to participate in any amount of physical activity outside of Tartarus would make her want to jump off a bridge, but that paled in comparison to the idea of not getting to spend extra time with Ryoko every Monday.
“You act like that’s the worst thing in the world.” Another laugh, soft and sweet and suffocating. Minako took a deep breath, trying to settle her nerves. It didn’t work, as per usual, so she settled with twirling a finger around the wires of her MP3 player as a method to distract herself.
“It is.” Minako’s eyes were locked with the ground intently, hoping that it would keep them from betraying her again. It worked well enough, though she would much rather be looking at the girl next to her instead of the disgustingly dirty tiled floor below her. Still, she knew it was better this way—at least she would actually be able to think without her heart nearly exploding in her chest.
“You really should try one,” she said, though judging by her tone, she already knew that she was fighting a losing battle. “Especially volleyball. It’s fun being on the team and all, but it would be so much better if you were around.”
“No.” Minako answered firmly, raising her gaze up from the floor to the rest of the room. The other three girls had gathered in front of the piano now, still talking and laughing and doing everything but actually practicing. One of them paused for a moment and flashed the two of them a dirty look. Minako shot them a glare. “I joined the choir to avoid physical activity. Why would I willingly do more of it and have to deal with—” she gestured vaguely. “This?”
“Yeah, that sounds just like you.” Ryoko sighed, though with an undertone of endearment. Minako pretended it didn’t make her heart skip a beat in her chest. “I suppose we should grab a practice room, then. I really love talking to you, but I wanna get some practice done while we can, y’know? I think Yukari would kill us if she finds out we didn’t do anything productive while she was gone.” Minako noticed her smile out of the corner of her eye, and, of course, her stupid mind betrayed her once again. Her eyes were locked with Ryoko’s again in an instant, and she physically felt her body warm up with each passing moment.
“Yeah, I guess.” To be honest, Minako had almost forgotten that was the reason they were here in the first place, especially after looking into her eyes like that. Ryoko tended to have that effect on her—making her heart take over for her brain and lose her sense of priority. She stretched her arms out and started making her way over to one of the handful of practice rooms attached to the choir room, before stopping dead in her tracks.
Though their choir wasn’t exactly known for their consistent attendance, this was the first time the two of them had been the only ones in their section. This was the first time Yukari had missed practice since Ryoko had transferred, and with her taking up the unofficial role as their section leader, this would be the first time the two of them would have to practice alone.
Just the two of them. Alone. In a tiny, cramped, dusty room. Together. Alone.
Just the two of them.
“B-But is it even worth it if it’s just gonna be two of us? Shouldn’t we just leave and go get food or something?” Minako was hyper-aware of the way her voice stumbled as she spoke, and she was starting to wish her evoker was a real gun. You shouldn’t even care about this, a voice in the back of her head told her with a sigh. You’re friends sharing a practice room and singing. That’s it. Stop being all weird about it. You shouldn’t care. That’s what the sensible part of her mind told her, but the emotional part wouldn’t listen. She hated this, hated having her stupid feelings take precedence when they shouldn’t, but there wasn’t really anything she could do about it. She wasn’t exactly experienced in this whole ‘feelings’ thing, and hell if she was going to figure it all out now.
“C’monnnnnn, Mina!” she whined exaggeratedly in a way that Minako would have found infuriating if it was coming from anyone but Ryoko. It was the same way with that nickname she seemed so intent on using—Minako would have knocked out anyone else that called her that. In the rare cases that someone tried calling her that, it made her feel like a child, or at the very least as if someone was talking down to or mocking her in some way. With Ryoko, though, it made her feel strangely… happy, like a pair of bright blue butterflies fluttering around in her chest. She hadn’t known what to make of that feeling for the longest time, having suddenly grown fond of a nickname she’d always hated, but, of course, the realization dawned on her the same time about a hundred others did. “Don’t you think we should at least try?” Minako shrugged. Ryoko rolled her eyes. “Besides, have you looked at the sheet music we got last week?”
“The one where our notes are lower than the altos for half of the damn song?”
“Yep.” Ryoko unzipped her bag and dug through what looked like an impossible amount of papers and books for just one person to carry, finally pulling out two identical black folders full of sheet music. She’d insisted on keeping Minako’s in her own bag for safe keeping, gently teasing her about how disorganized she tended to be and that her sheet music would end up lost in the void of her dorm room if she held onto it herself, and Minako had let her, knowing that her fears had weight to them. “Which is why we need to practice. Maybe if we do it’ll inspire everyone else.” Minako glanced back over at the other girls, who now seemed to be engaged in a heated debate over which of the two tenors who never showed up for practice was hotter.
“There is no way in hell that is going to happen.”
“…Yeah, probably not.” Despite her words, and to Minako’s dismay, Ryoko continued walking towards the practice rooms. “But why’re you so hesitant to practice today, anyway? Usually you and Yukari are the ones that have to drag me into a practice room.” Minako swallowed uncomfortably. Ryoko wasn’t wrong, and she wanted to punch herself for not thinking she would notice her change in behavior. Ryoko noticed everything about her, even the things that Minako hardly noticed herself. Of course she would recognize her sudden hesitation for practicing.
“I, uh—” Fuck. It wasn’t like she could tell Ryoko the real reason she would rather die than go into a room alone with her, but her improvisation skills weren’t good enough for her to come up with a believable lie. She idly stared for a few seconds, eyes accidentally meeting Ryoko’s once again for insult to injury, before she decided to essentially throw in the towel. “I dunno,” she answered finally, hoping that Ryoko would somehow take that as an answer. “I don’t wanna.”
“Are you feeling alright?” Ryoko took a step closer to her, and Minako was about ready to accept her death. She looked and sounded genuinely concerned, and she almost felt guilty for making her worry like that. Almost. It was Ryoko’s damn fault she felt this way in the first place, so, really, Minako didn’t feel all too bad about making her worry. “You’re not getting sick, are you?” Another step closer, and her heartbeat was in her ears. “Don’t you and Yukari share a room? Do you think you could be catching whatever she has?” Nope. Unless Yukari had suddenly come down with a case of lesbianism, Minako sincerely doubted that was what had happened here.
“Nope. I’m fine.” But there was something else about Ryoko’s question that caught her attention. “And we don’t share a room. We share a dorm. I think someone would have been killed by now if our dorm had roommate assignments.” Though rooming with Yukari didn’t seem like the worst thing in the world, she couldn’t imagine how the rest of those theoretical living situations would play out. Akihiko and Junpei would probably be stuck in a room together, and that sounded like a nightmare in and of itself. She was suddenly immensely thankful that SEES was small enough for everyone to have their own separate rooms.
“Oh, you don’t?” Ryoko looked weirdly surprised, and, even weirder, relieved. “You two seem close. I figured you were roommates.” In what world did that make sense? Minako was pretty sure her people-reading skills were failing her once again, but she almost saw something similar to jealousy laced into Ryoko’s words. Was this something she actually cared about? Why? Why the hell would something as insignificant as her and Yukari sharing a room matter to anyone, let alone someone that Yukari herself didn’t even like? Minako didn’t get it, and it frustrated her. She was used to not understanding people, but Ryoko was someone she could usually read better than others. But right now she couldn’t, and it was all over something laughably stupid.
“If we were roommates, half of my room would be bright pink. I don’t know if I could put up with that.” In reality Minako wouldn’t have cared that much, but she needed something to say to distract herself from the uncomfortable, frustrated feeling bubbling inside her. Ryoko laughed, releasing some of the tension that probably only existed in Minako’s mind.
“Well, that’s good then.” She flashed her a smile, and, just as it always did, it made Minako’s heart flutter. “Well if you’re not catching what Yukari has, are you just tired then? What have I told you about getting at least eight hours of sleep every night?”
“You’re still on this?” Minako sighed with annoyance. Sure she had only slept about five hours last night, but that had nothing to do with the fact that she was avoiding that damn practice room like the plague. She’d sung on one hour of sleep before, sung while incredibly sick, sung after the most exhausting Tartarus infiltration of her life—and none of those things would compare to having to sing alone with Ryoko.
“Well since someone doesn’t want to sing, I kind of have to be.” She took yet another step closer. There were only a few centimeters left between them now, and Minako’s heartbeat was going absolutely haywire in her chest. “Are you sure you’re not sick?” She tried to muster up something vaguely sarcastic in response, but any and all words died in her throat as Ryoko lifted a hand up to her forehead, placing the back of her palm gently atop it. Minako’s eyes widened like she was a deer about to be struck by a high speed vehicle, and as desperately as she tried to say anything, all she could do was stare helplessly. Sometimes, Minako couldn’t help but wonder if she was doing this on purpose. If Ryoko had found out somewhere down the line just how much power little things like this had over her, and decided to use it to her advantage just to be a tease.
‘This is just how she acts,’ Minako’s mind taunted her, still feeling the warmth of Ryoko’s hand against her forehead despite her pulling it away. ‘She does this with everyone. You aren’t special.’
“You’re burning up!” Her tone was almost scolding as she looked at Minako with surprise and worry, and that was enough to pull her out of her head. She needed to focus on convincing Ryoko that she was fine, at least physically, or she would try dragging her to the nurse’s office. And as bad as practicing alone together sounded, sitting alone with Ryoko in the nurse’s office waiting for the nurse who never actually seemed to be there to begin with would be so, so much worse. “Why didn’t you say anything?” She asked, and Minako felt her heart sink deeper into her chest with every word. She didn’t want to worry Ryoko like this, but what other choice did she have? Admitting the real reason she was acting so strangely? Absolutely not. “You don’t have to come to practice if you’re sick, you know. Your health is more important.” ‘I’m not sick,’ she tried forcing out, eyes locked to the floor once again because she would die if she had to look anywhere else. The words died in her throat, though, and all she could muster was a nervous, dismissive shrug. That was probably for the best, she realized after the fact. Admitting that she wasn’t sick would only raise more questions as to why she was burning hotter than an Agidyne, and with how nosy Ryoko was, Minako doubted she would leave her alone until she knew the truth. The truth that she would rather die than ever admit to anyone, let alone Ryoko herself.
“‘M not sick,” she managed to mumble out after a suspiciously long pause, and Ryoko sighed at her.
“You’re burning!” She repeated, and, as if this situation couldn’t have possibly gotten worse, she placed her palm on the side of Minako’s face and forced her to look up at her. “What’s wrong, Mina?” Her voice dropped lower into a more serious tone rather than her typical bubbly one, and her bright blue eyes burned a hole right through Minako’s heart. “Is everything okay? Do you need to talk?”
“I’m fine,” she forced out, taking Ryoko’s hand off of her face as gently as she possibly could. “Let’s just practice.”
“…If you say so.” She didn’t sound like she believed her, and hearing a tone so worried and serious from someone so loving and bright was a sound infinitely worse than nails on a chalkboard, but at least she had gotten out of this with her dignity mostly in-tact. “Let’s take practice room C, then, since no one’s using it. I like that one the best.” Her voice lightened up a little, though she still looked a bit worried.
“I don’t think I’ve ever used room C. The first sopranos always steal it before I get here.” With their class being on the second floor and on the opposite end of the building, Minako Ryoko and Yukari almost always wound up stuck with the practice rooms that no one else wanted. They always got the choice between the room the size of a closet or the room that had a permanent leak in the ceiling and smelled like wet cardboard, how lucky. But with the member numbers dwindling and the other singers not even bothering to go into a practice room to gossip anymore, that was slowly starting to change.
“I’ve only gotten to use it once, actually.” Ryoko walked over to the door in the corner of the room labeled as practice room A, and turned the doorknob. Minako stepped inside and found a small smile curling on her lips, surprisingly enough. The decor wasn’t anything to write home about, with just a few treble clefs and quarter notes stuck around the walls with a large mirror sitting in the middle of the room, but at least it was big enough to actually fit the two of them and it didn’t smell like someone had died. “It was that day you were sick, and most of the other girls were too apparently. So me and Yukari got to take the nicer room.” Minako’s tiny smile quickly dropped back down to a neutral expression.
“Of course it was the day I was gone,” she complained monotonously, and while she couldn’t have cared less about something as insignificant as Ryoko getting to use a nicer room without her, she hadn’t known that the two of them had gone to practice that day. It filled her with some strange emotion she couldn’t quite describe, but whatever it was, it wasn’t good. It shouldn’t have mattered and Minako knew that, especially considering that Yukari almost certainly hadn’t enjoyed the experience as her opinions of Ryoko tended to be… less than fond, but as it always seemed to do around Ryoko, her brain abandoned all logic in favor of emotions she could never find the words to describe.
“Well, hey, now we’re practicing without Yukari, so you’re even now.” She flashed one of her impossibly infectious smiles, and set the folders on the floor beneath them as she sat down and gently rifled through her sheet music. “I guess that means I’ll be sick next, though. Try not to have too much fun without me.”
“Without you, we’ll actually end up getting practice done.” Minako spoke each word with intention, trying her hardest to get her sarcasm across enough to make sure Ryoko didn’t take her seriously. Yeah, the two of them wound up talking more than they did singing a lot of the time, but Minako wouldn’t trade that for the world.
“C’mon, don’t be like that,” She whined exaggeratedly, teasingly hitting the top of Minako’s head with the piece of sheet music she’d grabbed out of her folder. “I don’t wanna hear that from you when I practically had to force you in here today.” Minako swallowed. Yeah, Ryoko had to force her in here because she didn’t want to practice. Yep, that was totally the only reason. She didn’t say anything as she grabbed her folder and started skimming through the sheet music, pulling out the two pieces she believed needed the most work.
“Do you wanna start on the one we got last week?” She asked as she flipped through the pages, feeling her soul leave her body as she looked at their line for the song.
“That’s what I was thinking, but the director might not have us do it.” Ryoko pulled the piece out of her own folder, tracing along their notes with her finger. “No one really wanted to do a third song for this concert, and I don’t think she’ll make us sing it if we aren’t ready.”
“She can’t do that if she’s never here to hear that we suck in the first place.” Despite her words, Minako put the song back into her folder. She didn’t want to get up on stage not knowing the song, but she really didn’t want to sing what was essentially a tenor part for an entire piece, and that overpowered her sense of responsibility.
“She’s just been busy.” Ryoko flipped open the other song she had taken out of her folder, which coincidentally happened to be the same one Minako had taken out. It was a gentle and somewhat short piece called ‘A Way of Life,’ though both of them and Yukari always got their part confused with the first soprano’s. “I’m sure she’ll be here next week.” Minako had to admire Ryoko’s optimism—only she would have confidence that a director that hadn’t shown up to manage her own choir for nearly a month would bother coming any more than the bare minimum the school required of her.
“Mhm,” she ‘agreed’ sarcastically. “Let’s hope.” Ryoko looked down at her sheet music with a bit of worry in her eyes, though it was so faint that Minako wouldn’t have noticed if she wasn’t admittedly staring a bit more than she should have.
“Well, there’s no point in worrying about it now. We should get as much practice in as we can, since we’re down a member for the day.” Minako swallowed. Yeah, they were down a member. A member that was always there to break the tension between her and Ryoko. A member that was a close enough friend to her to realize that maybe her feelings for Ryoko were a bit more than platonic, though Minako had always vehemently denied it whenever she asked, so she knew when to change the topic of conversation when Ryoko’s teasing was breaking through the walls of her heart a little too well.
A member that was the sole person keeping her from having to sing alone in a room with Ryoko.
“Yeah.” Minako flipped back to the first page of the music and cleared her throat. “Are we starting from the beginning?”
“I don’t see why not.” Ryoko scooted back to lean against the wall, which gave Minako some much-needed breathing room. Unfortunately, because her heart and her brain were two different entities locked in an eternal
struggle against each other, she found herself subconsciously moving closer to her before she even realized what she was doing. Ryoko didn’t say anything, but, unless Minako was seeing things that weren’t there, she faintly smiled. “We should probably review our other songs after a run or two, though. Our main problem is staying on our line instead of jumping up, but we can’t really practice that when it’s just us. Maybe I can try to get everyone to practice together before we leave?” The snort that left Minako’s mouth was truly unintentional.
“I’d love to see you try that.” She smiled softly, covering it with her sheet music. “Yukari used to try getting them to practice with us before you joined, but she stopped ‘cuz they all started being assholes about it.” Maybe it would be different with Ryoko, though—with the way the entire school seemed to regard her as some kind of goddess, there was a good chance that she could do the impossible and actually get the choir to sing for once in their lives.
“Oh.” The disappointment in her voice was clear. “Well, I guess that just means the three of us will just have to practice harder.” Ryoko flipped her sheet music to the first page, and gave Minako a warm glance. “Are you ready to start?”
“Y-Yeah.” Noticing the stutter in her voice made her want to rip her heart out of her chest. “Do you wanna count off?”
———
Apparently, singing is rather difficult when your heartbeat is in your neck and breathing consistently is a Herculean task.
This was her first time singing alone with Ryoko, and, for all Minako knew, she could have been singing an entirely different song than the one that was written on the page. It was hard to focus on what was written in front of her when she had Ryoko singing in her ear, her voice impossibly bright and beautiful despite only having been here for a few months, and eventually, Minako stopped even turning the pages. She let her heart sing for her, even if her ‘heart’ tended to sing higher notes than the ones written on the page. The three minute long piece felt like it took centuries to run through, but once it was done, she took the deepest breath she ever had.
“You have such a nice voice, Minako,” Ryoko said after a few seconds, and it immediately sent Minako’s efforts to calm herself down spiraling off-course. That wasn’t uncommon for her to say, though she usually offered Yukari and whoever else was practicing with them the same compliment. Today it was just the two of them, and even though she suspected it was just out of courtesy, it made her heart flutter in her chest.
“You too.” Minako realized she was just repeating her compliment, though, so she tried to add something a little more genuine. “You’re so much better at low notes than I am. They sound really nice coming from you.”
“Aww, thank you!” The genuine appreciation in her voice made Minako feel like she was going to explode into a million pieces. “I actually wasn’t sure how I sounded with them. I always feel like I undershoot.” Ryoko moved back to the center of the room where her folder was, and, like a lost puppy, Minako followed her. “Do you wanna review our other song? I know we have it down already, but it’s been a bit since we’ve ran through it. I think it could be good just to practice.” She opened her folder back up and started to say something else, but cut herself off as she heard her phone buzz in her pocket.
“Who’s that?” Minako asked perhaps a bit too quickly. No, she wasn’t jealous that it was most likely someone asking her out on a date over text again. She absolutely was not.
“Let’s see…” She pulled her phone out and looked down at the message she’d received with a look of slight surprise. “Someone named Hayato. He’s in our class, isn’t he?”
“I think so.” Truthfully, Minako hadn’t paid enough attention to the people in her class that weren’t her friends to know for certain. The name sounded familiar, though—if she remembered correctly, that was the guy who had called Yukari a bitch after she refused a date with him. Lovely. “What, did he ask you on a date?”
“Yeah.” Minako knew the answer as soon as she asked the question, but it still hurt to hear. Ryoko stared at the message for a few more seconds before closing her phone and slipping it back into her pocket.
“Are you gonna go?” She figured she already had her answer by the way Ryoko put her phone away without giving a response, but still, she had to ask. Perhaps it would be better if she did end up going, a voice in the back of Minako’s head suggested. If Ryoko found herself a boyfriend that loved and cared about her, Minako wouldn’t be stuck in the hurricane of her feelings anymore. At least she hoped she wouldn’t, anyway, but with the way her brain tended to fuck her over, she’d probably still be stuck with her feelings even if Ryoko found herself a partner.
“I don’t think so, no.” Minako breathed an unintentional sigh of relief. “I don’t like going on dates with people I don’t know well. I tried it a few times, but most of the people I went with wound up being strange and creepy, and the ones that weren’t weren’t my type, so I stopped going.” Ryoko shut her folder without pulling any more music out, turning to face Minako, and she had a sneaking suspicion that they weren’t actually going to get any more practice done this afternoon. “I once had a guy tell me out of nowhere that I’d ‘be a ten if I weren’t so tall.’ That’s the last blind date I went to.” Minako’s eyes widened like she’d just seen a ghost. Someone had actually said that to her? On a first date? Ignoring the obvious audacity of even saying that to someone in the first place, Minako couldn’t imagine someone possibly complaining about Ryoko being too tall. The almost six inch difference in their height was one of the things that had burrowed its way into Minako’s brain and made a home there. The way she had to look up to make eye contact with her, the way she could hold things above Minako’s head where she couldn’t reach if she was feeling particularly teasing that day, the way she would fit snugly in her arms if she held her, the way she would have to stand up on her tip-toes if she wanted to kiss her—
Ahem.
“Someone actually said that to you?” The main reason she said anything at all was in a desperate attempt to get herself out of the stream of thoughts that were currently running through her brain.
“I know, right? I can’t imagine ever saying that to someone. It’s insane.” She paused, letting her eyes drift to the floor for a moment before looking back at Minako. “I thought I might have feelings for him before that, but I immediately stopped liking him after he said that.” No, Minako didn’t feel her heart sink into her chest after hearing that. Not at all.
“I don’t blame you.” Her eyes drifted around the room, trying her very hardest to avoid looking into Ryoko’s eyes. She tended to be able to read her like a book more often than not, and she didn’t need her doting on her any more than she had earlier. She was pretty sure Ryoko was still convinced that she was sick, and her catching a glimpse of the somewhat upset look Minako was certain was unintentionally reflected in her eyes would only make her more concerned.
“Is something wrong?” …But, apparently she couldn’t escape it either way. She should have realized that staring intently at the floor was probably even more concerning than what she was trying to avoid in the first place. “You better not be sick, because if—”
“I’m not sick,” she cut her off with a bit more edge than she intended. “I’m alright, I promise.” She forced a small smile and a lighter tone to relieve Ryoko’s worries, but she still didn’t look convinced.
“Somehow, I don’t believe you.” The worry in Ryoko’s eyes was actually making her feel sick, though. She was so sweet and caring that it made her stomach churn, making her wonder what she’d ever done to deserve someone so concerned for her well-being. Ryoko’s phone buzzed again, and she pulled it out of her pocket. A part of Minako’s brain wished she would just go out with whichever guy was asking her out on a date this time, just so she wouldn’t have to deal with her heart betraying her anymore. Perhaps that was selfish of her, but she didn’t care—it wasn’t like Ryoko would ever know. She planned on keeping these thoughts in the very deepest reaches of her mind, thank you very much. “I—” She started, but cut herself off as her eyes widened with more shock than Minako had ever seen on her face. “Oh!” Minako’s curiosity immediately got the best of her, and she leaned over to see what message could have possibly gotten her to react that way.
…
Oh!
The laugh that left Minako’s mouth was entirely intentional this time.
She couldn’t have imagined a worse attempt at flirting if she tried. It was a full paragraph that seemed to be written from the same guy as earlier, filled with horrible, disgusting things she couldn’t imagine saying to someone at all, let alone someone she had talked to a total of once, all somehow being framed as being romantic.
“H-Hey!” Ryoko realized all too late that Minako was leaning over her shoulder to read her screen, laughing harder than she usually allowed herself to. “I wouldn’t be laughing if this happened to you!”
“Yes you would.”
“Okay, maybe, but…” She trailed off, her face burning a bright red as she fumbled around with the keypad of her phone. “How do you block someone on here?” She mumbled meekly, sounding unlike herself.
“Click on the—” Minako could hardly speak over her laughter. Ryoko shot her a glare, though it was difficult to take it seriously with the bright red tint covering her face. “Click on the contact at the top of the screen. It should let you block from there.” After a few more seconds of continuing to fumble around with the keypad like she’d never used a phone in her life, she managed to successfully block the number.
“Thanks.” She breathed a sigh of relief. “Didn’t think you’d actually know how.”
“It’s no problem.” Minako chose not to take that as an insult. She doubted Ryoko had meant it as one, considering the fact that her own tech literacy was about on the level of the old couple that ran the bookstore in the strip mall. “I’m surprised you don’t, with the amount of weird messages you get.” This wasn’t the first time Ryoko had gotten some sort of questionable message on her phone while they were hanging out, and Minako doubted it would be the last. This was certainly the worst of them, but sometimes it seemed like she couldn’t go a full week without being asked out on a date over text by some random person neither of them knew. How so many people even got her number in the first place was completely beyond her, but somehow, it felt like the entire damn school was in a competition for who could send Ryoko the cringiest possible pick-up line. Minako would be lying if she said she wasn’t at least a little jealous, but like most of her feelings, she tried swallowing it down. She didn’t have a right to be jealous, and she knew that, but ignoring the feeling wasn’t exactly something that could be done with the push of a button.
“I’ve learned to just ignore them, mostly.” She closed her phone and slipped it back into her pocket. “I feel rude blocking people that are just trying to have a genuine conversation. I usually try to at least respond to them a few times, but I don’t want them to think I’m leading them on. A lot of them are nice people, really; they’re just not my type.” Ryoko was looking down now, her face partially covered by her scarf. It was a rare sight, having her be quiet and vulnerable like this, and Minako had a feeling there was more to what she was saying than she was letting on.
“Not your type?” The question left Minako’s mouth a bit sooner than it probably should have. Even putting her own feelings aside, she had to admit she was curious. It wasn’t often that she got to have such casual conversations with her friends like this, as it was only in the past few months that she’d opened up enough to be comfortable with them. Really, she couldn’t believe she’d wasted so much of her life pushing everyone away and sleeping her days away—she largely had Ryoko to thank for her change in attitude. “I thought you said you don’t go out with them anymore. What, can you tell if they’re your type or not just based on the way they text?” Minako thought she made it clear she was just joking, but with the way Ryoko continued to hide her face within her scarf, she wondered if it had come across properly.
“That’s…” She laughed, though it didn’t sound entirely genuine. Minako would know; Ryoko’s normal laugh played on a non-stop loop in her brain most days. “It’s not really important,” she finished, and though the bright and cheery look quickly returned to her face, Minako’s brow furrowed. It wasn’t like her to hide things like that, as open and extroverted as she tended to be.
“C’mon.” If she was with anyone else she would have dropped it, but her curiosity was swallowing her whole. If anyone were to ask, her excuse would have been that it was strange for Ryoko to be so hesitant about her question, which was true, but it wasn’t that wasn’t the full extent of it. Truthfully, as selfish as she felt for it, she may have been a little more interested in hearing what Ryoko’s type was than a normal friend would have. She knew it was selfish, knew that whatever person she described would be the furthest possible thing from Minako even in the off-chance she liked girls in the first place, but that didn’t stop her from asking. That was a new part of her personality that SEES and Ryoko had awakened in her. She was allowed to be a little selfish at times, she was allowed to have these feelings, she was allowed to talk and laugh like the rest of her peers. And though she still struggled to accept that sometimes, it was a freeing feeling whenever that new personality slipped through the cracks of her old, more reserved one. “You ask me those types of questions all the time.”
“And you always beat around the bush when I ask them.” A slightly more natural smile graced Ryoko’s face. She wasn’t wrong about that, but at least she did a better job at dodging the question than Ryoko was doing right now.
“I dodge most of the questions people ask me.” Which, again, was true. Though it was a habit she’d been working on undoing recently. “You don’t.”
“Okay, okay, fine.” She laughed, though Minako didn’t miss the nervous, almost terrified look that flashed by her eyes for a split second. Minako felt her heart sink just a bit; what answer could she possibly have to that question to make her that scared? She wanted to reach out and grab her hand, let her know that everything was okay, but she hadn’t yet built up that level of confidence in herself. She knew Ryoko would have done the same for her, and it hurt that she couldn’t bring herself to do something so insignificant to ensure her friend’s comfort, but she focused her energy on listening to what she had to say. Ryoko took a deep breath, and through a faltering smile, said in a shaky voice. “Promise you won’t make fun of me, alright?”
“If I was going to make fun of you for anything, I would have done it already.” Her joke had apparently come across properly this time, and let out a loud, genuine laugh, grabbing her folder and gently smacking the top of Minako’s head with it.
“You’re so mean to me, Mina.” The amount that nickname made Minako smile was almost criminal. “But…” she trailed off, briefly hiding her face in her scarf once again before looking up with slightly more confidence. “I’m into girls, mostly.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, yet it was the loudest thing Minako had ever heard.
“O-Oh.” Minako felt her heartbeat in her ears, pounding so loudly in her chest that she wondered if it could be heard across the room. Her face quickly burned bright, and taking a quick glance in the mirror confirmed that she was about the color of her uniform’s bow.
Did she actually have a chance?
“I hope that doesn’t make things too weird.” She sounded shy and embarrassed, a sound that Minako absolutely despised hearing on someone usually so confident, but as much as she tried to say something to comfort her, her mouth felt as if it had been welded shut.
But would someone like Ryoko ever like someone like her?
“N-No, it doesn’t,” she finally, finally managed, though the nervousness leaking through her voice hardly did anything in the way of convincing Ryoko that she didn’t think any less of her. A quiet voice in the back of Minako’s head yelled at her through the chaos, scolding her for letting herself be consumed by her own feelings when Ryoko had just admitted something so personal to her, but a louder, much more obnoxious voice was going ‘ oh shit oh fuck she likes girls’ repeatedly.
She should have expected this, really. It wasn’t that much of a surprise, with the way she flirted back with the fangirls that would occasionally approach her. It was something she should have reasonably assumed, and yet it was like her entire world had shattered, cutting her with the glass of realization that she actually had a chance. It was a small, almost nonexistent chance, because she couldn’t imagine why someone as beautiful and full of love as Ryoko would ever settle for someone like Minako when pretty much the entire school would sell their soul just for a chance to talk to her, but regardless of how unlikely, it was still a chance.
And that chance, no matter how small, was enough for Minako to completely disregard all of the rules she’d set for herself, for just a moment.
“It’s—I—Me too,” she admitted, her voice being even quieter than it normally was. She was mortified, her face was burning brighter than the heat of a thousand Agidynes, and she was pretty sure that the rapidness of her heartbeat had taken at least a year off her lifespan, but, weirdly enough, it wasn’t a bad feeling. It was… freeing, actually, being able to tell this to someone she cared so deeply about, especially when that someone was the one person she’d deliberately avoided telling for the longest time. It wasn’t a direct confession by any means, but it sure felt like one, and it was as if a thousand kilogram weight had been lifted off her chest.
“Oh?” Now it was Ryoko’s turn to be surprised, taking some of the pressure off of Minako. She let out a sigh of relief, her own cheeks glowing a light pink as she smiled, bright and beautiful and genuine. Minako’s heartbeat went even more haywire, if that was even possible.
“Y-Yeah.” She hated how much she was stuttering, but she couldn’t exactly blame herself. There was once a time where she probably could have gotten through a conversation like this without stuttering or blushing or feeling anything at all, but that time had long since passed. Though she was glad that she’d allowed herself to actually feel and express her emotions over this past year, it did lead to unfortunate circumstances such as this one where she wound up feeling like her insides had turned into jelly. “Didn’t— didn’t expect that from you. You always seem to flirt back whenever a guy comes up to you.”
“Yeah, well…” Ryoko stretched, and Minako could clearly see the look of relief washing over her. She looked into Minako’s eyes, and it was like she’d been turned to stone, unable to look away from the bright cerulean that always consumed her like a tidal wave. “I thought if I did that it would make me have feelings for them, you know? But I realized after a while that attraction isn’t something you can force like that.” She looked back down near the end of her phrase, a look of nervousness stretching back across her face, and Minako raised an eyebrow. What was it now? Perhaps it was just the lingering adrenaline from her previous confession, but something inside of her was clinging onto a small, near-impossible hope that the reason she suddenly seemed so shy again was, well, Minako.
“Is there… someone in particular that helped you realize it?” Ryoko clearly didn’t expect that question, her head whipping back up with a look of surprise.
“What’s with all the questions?” She laughed, but it sounded unnatural. As someone that had been so affectionate and cheery mere minutes ago, the change in her behavior made Minako fairly concerned. She had already admitted the main thing that had been on her mind, right?
Unless?
“Just curious,” she lied, shrugging. “You’re always nagging me with questions. Figured I’d switch things around for once.”
“Okay, but you always beat around the questions I ask you.” She wouldn’t say she ‘beat around them,’ but she did tend to give short, almost non-answers at times. “What about you, then? Who’s the lucky girl that helped you realize things?” Oh. Minako’s heart shot back up into the stratosphere, mind running at the speed of sound trying to figure out the least suspicious way to respond to a question like that. She could theoretically just describe a random girl just to get this over with, but knowing Ryoko, she would search the entire damn school for this imaginary girl to try and set them up. Plus, and a bit more selfishly, Minako didn’t necessarily want to deny the fact that it was Ryoko who had made her realize she liked girls in the first place. She sure as hell didn’t want to confirm it, because she was pretty sure she would keel over and die the instant those words left her mouth, but she didn’t want to deny it. Just in case.
“She’s…” beautiful, kind, smart, and funny? Smells overwhelmingly like the watermelon perfume from that store in Paulownia? sitting right next to me? “…not important,” she finally finished after a suspiciously long pause, earning her a playful jab in the side.
“You’re dodging again.”
“You say that like you didn’t dodge the exact same question two minutes ago.”
“I learn from the best.” She smiled, and Minako was so focused on it that she hardly processed the next words to leave her mouth. “Let’s play a game, then.” Uh oh. She didn’t know what Ryoko was implying, but she already didn’t like it. “We’ll both describe something about our girl until the other person guesses correctly. Winner gets… bragging rights, I guess.” Oh, cool. That sounded like the absolute worst idea she could have possibly come up with. Minako could not have imagined a worse ‘game’ idea if she tried. This would end up horribly, with either Ryoko realizing it was her Minako was talking about and getting weirded out, or with both of them going insane as Minako tried using the vaguest terms possible to avoid actually having to commit one way or the other.
It was a horrible idea, and yet, she found herself agreeing almost immediately.
“Yeah, sure. Why not.” Minako wished she could place the blame on Ryoko’s presence screwing up her decision making skills, but this was entirely on her. This was her stupid decision and hers alone, and even though she knew this would end horribly one way or another, she felt a strange excitement coursing through her. Besides, she doubted Ryoko would have let her say no anyway; she tended to have a way of persuading Minako into doing what she wanted anyway. Though that was more the fault of Minako’s heart consistently betraying her brain than anything of Ryoko’s doing.
“Wow. Didn’t think you’d actually agree.” As if Minako didn’t regret her decision enough already. If even Ryoko was surprised Minako had agreed to this, that couldn’t have possibly been a good sign.
“It’s not like you’d let me say no.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” At least she admitted it. Ryoko stretched, unclipping her hair and letting it flow down to her shoulders in messy waves. Minako couldn’t tear her eyes away as much as she knew she should, losing herself in such a simple sight. This was far from the first time she’d seen Ryoko with her hair down, with her fixing and fiddling with it nearly every time there was a mirror around, but just as she had the first time, it was like Minako’s entire body had been turned to stone. Ryoko was beautiful no matter which way she wore her hair, but there was something particularly alluring about her hair when she let it down. Minako weakly tried to force her eyes back down to the floor, but by this point, she had all but given up on trying to distract herself. It was unfair for someone to be so beautiful, she thought distantly, hardly hearing even her own thoughts over the racing in her heart. Completely and utterly unfair.
“—ako?” She came back to her senses with a hand being waved in front of her face, a look of curious confusion stretching across Ryoko’s face. “I, uh, asked you if you wanna go first. But, y’know, if you’re—”
“Not sick.” Minako cut her off before she could finish. Evidently, her prediction had been correct.
“Your face is bright red, y’know.” As if that comment wasn’t enough to make Minako’s breath catch embarrassingly in her throat, Ryoko put a gentle hand on her cheek and turned her head to look in the mirror. Sure enough, her face was scarlet red, even more so than it had been before. Minako couldn’t say for certain, but with Ryoko’s teasing tone, she had a feeling she knew she wasn’t actually sick. Though, she tried not to think about it—if she knew that much then she could probably figure out the actual reason her face was darker than Mitsuru’s hair, and that thought was terrifying to her.
“It does that sometimes.” Her ‘excuse’ wasn’t much of an excuse at all, and Ryoko looked about ready to call her out on it, so Minako quickly followed herself up. “But fine. I’ll go first.” That seemed to shift Ryoko’s attention well enough, thankfully. The only problem was that now she had to say something, and she hadn’t actually thought that far ahead. Through an endless stream of expletives in her head, Minako ran through a few possibilities. She didn’t want to say anything too revealing for obvious reasons, but at the same time, she didn’t want to say anything that didn’t describe Ryoko in at least some way. She was still clinging onto that tiny hope inside her that she felt the same way, that the way she flirted with and teased her was different than the way she did with others, and until Ryoko started to describe someone entirely different from herself and Minako felt her heart sink into Tartarus, she would continue to hold onto it. “…She has black hair.” She decided after a suspiciously long pause. She was going to play the long game with this until she had enough evidence one way or the other, and if that meant using the vaguest descriptors possible, so be it.
“Hey, no fair!” Ryoko pouted exaggeratedly, and Minako would be lying if she said she didn’t find it at least a bit cute. “That describes ninety percent of our school, you know.”
“Eh.” Minako shrugged. Ryoko looked like she was about to hit her with her folder again. “You never said it had to be specific.”
“Fine, then.” There was a growing smirk on her face that Minako decidedly didn’t like. “She’s shorter than me.” Oh. Okay, that narrowed it down by… two people? Maybe three? She should have expected this, really, but this was a flaw in her plan that she hadn’t seen through. Minako thought for a minute, staring intently at the tile flow below her as her mind ran through every single trait she could possibly list out. Again, she didn’t want to be too obvious, but she didn’t want to accidentally describe another girl either. This was more difficult than she thought, and it took her an embarrassingly long time to come up with something to say.
“She’s in our grade,” she managed, somehow looking back up at Ryoko despite herself, and while it wasn’t quite as broad as what she’d said before, it was still an admittedly cowardly choice. Minako wasn’t sure she even knew any girls outside of her grade other than Mitsuru, and she wasn’t sure Ryoko did either. Though, with the amount of fangirls she had, she probably knew more names than Minako did.
“Hm…” Ryoko thought for a minute, twirling her hair around her finger in a way that definitely didn’t have Minako mesmerized. “She likes music. A lot, actually.” Minako physically felt her body heat up a disgusting amount just hearing that, and even more as she realized Ryoko was staring directly into her eyes as she said it. Her MP3 player had never felt heavier against her chest, and her face burned bright red with just about every emotion under the sun. She had to have known what she was doing. The only question was whether this was more of her flirtatious teasing, or if there was actual meaning behind it.
Minako hoped it was the latter. More than she’d ever hoped for anything.
“She’s… on the volleyball team.” It took an extreme amount of confidence for those words to leave her mouth, to the point that she was surprised she’d managed to say them at all. She could still backtrack out of this if she needed to—Gekkoukan’s volleyball team was massive from what Ryoko had told her—but Minako had a growing feeling that she wouldn’t need to take back her words to begin with. Ryoko looked at her with a somewhat surprised smile, and Minako smiled back despite herself. Somehow, even though she didn’t have much proof, there was a rare, warm, and comforting feeling engulfing her and telling her that everything would be fine.
“She’s got such a pretty smile.” Ryoko inched ever so slightly closer to her as she uttered those words, quieter and shyer than she normally spoke, and Minako watched the very fabric of her reality shatter beneath her.
Oh.
She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. Wasn’t sure if she was even still alive, or if this was just a fantasy created by a charm spell she’d been hit with. Everything was hot, like she’d just been hit with the power of a thousand suns, and for a moment, she genuinely feared that she might lose consciousness entirely.
“I—” She choked out, hardly even noticing she’d said anything at all. Her mind was entirely focused on the girl in front of her, mere inches away now, and completely blind to everything else. There could have been a fire blazing just a few feet away from them and she never would have noticed; right now, Ryoko was the only thing in her entire world.
“Something wrong?” Ryoko asked playfully with a sort of false innocence in her voice, though she could still see a glimpse of anxiety in her eyes, as if she was somehow just as nervous about this as Minako was. She sincerely doubted it, as she doubted anyone in the world was feeling as nervous as she was right now, but it was still comforting to know that she wasn’t alone in her feelings. Minako stayed frozen in place for a few moments, watching as Ryoko’s bright, blinding smile faded into one of pure worry and regret. She scooted backwards and recreated the distance between them, and Minako’s heart sank deeper and deeper into her chest with every passing second. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“N-No, wait—” Minako managed to force out of her mouth despite her entire body currently working against her. She couldn’t let Ryoko think she didn’t want this more than everything, but how the hell was she supposed to tell her that when she could hardly say a single word? She thought for a minute, and it was as if the world had gone into slow motion.
Well, there was always one thing.
Minako closed the gap between them once again. It was only a few inches, but that made all the difference. She stared into the cerulean eyes in front of her, now with a slight relief washing over them. It was incredibly rare to see her this outwardly scared and vulnerable, and it was a sight that Minako decidedly hated. She just wanted to tell her everything right then and there, but she knew she’d never be able to properly express the weight of her feelings in her current state. So, there was really only one solution here.
She took a deep breath, and leaned in.
Immediately, the taste of watermelon chapstick overwhelmed her. It was sweet and comforting, and not too dissimilar to that perfume she always wore. The taste wasn’t that strong, really, but it served as something for her to focus on so she didn’t entirely lose herself in the realization that not only was this happening, but she herself had been the one to initiate it. She’d never kissed anyone before, and she had to wonder if this is what it was always like. Completely losing yourself in the feeling, letting your eyes drift shut like nothing else in the world mattered, hardly being able to hear your thoughts over the pounding in your heart… was it like that for everyone? Or was this just because it was Ryoko she was kissing, and just a few minutes ago just the thought of something like this was enough for her to uncharacteristically kick her feet? She had no idea, and that was her favorite part about it. For once, she didn’t have to put on a show. She didn’t have to run from vulnerability at all costs, do what she thought she was ‘supposed’ to. Granted, she had always let her true self shine through with Ryoko more than with others, but here and now, she was her most vulnerable. And, for once, that wasn’t a bad thing.
Distantly, Minako wondered if she was pushing things too far. In the height of her adrenaline-filled excitement she’d hardly considered Ryoko’s feelings in all of this. Perhaps she was going too fast with all of this, or perhaps Ryoko didn’t like her in that way at all.
Nope, she decided almost immediately. If she didn’t want Minako to kiss her, then she shouldn’t have looked at her with that flirtatious smile and playful look in her eyes after telling her she had a ‘pretty smile.’ And, besides, with the way Ryoko didn’t seem to be pulling back, Minako didn’t doubt that she wanted this just as much as she did.
Despite that, though, Minako was the first to pull away. She started to come to her senses after a few seconds, the overwhelming warm and fuzzy feelings inside of her fading enough for her to see the reality of the situation. She only managed to pull back a few centimeters, though, her face still extremely close to Ryoko’s. She took a deep breath, nearly panting from the fact that she’d completely forgotten to breathe while under her spell, and she felt relieved when Ryoko did the same.
“You—” She choked out between breaths, her face burning the same shade of red as Minako’s earlier. It was nice to be on the reverse end of her teasing for once. “I didn’t—I didn’t think you would… do that.” She didn’t pull back even a centimeter, looking at Minako like she was her entire sun, moon, and stars. Minako had never felt more special in her entire life.
“You just expected me to—” Another frantic breath. She felt like she’d just ran a marathon. “You just expected me to put up with all your teasing?” Instead of giving her an immediate response, Ryoko put a gentle hand in her hair and leaned in for a soft peck on the lips. It warmed her heart just as much as before, though she managed to keep her sense of reality intact this time.
“W-Well, you’re always so shy!” She argued, breathing even heavier than she had before. “I was just going to wait for you to admit it. I didn’t think you’d…” She trailed off quickly, adding in a tone sounding much closer to her typical self, “You taste really sweet, y’know. What kind of chapstick do you use?”
“‘Admit it?’ S-So you knew then?” Minako was so focused on the embarrassment flooding through her body at the implication that Ryoko had known about this all along that it took her a few seconds to even register what else she had said. Once she did, her entire body warmed up a whole ten degrees. “I what???”
“I… had a feeling.” Ryoko noticeably didn’t even acknowledge her second statement. Minako wanted to tear her hair out, but found herself smiling instead. Looked like she still wasn’t beyond Ryoko making her heart turn inside out with just a few words. “I— I started to notice you acting differently a few weeks ago. You always seemed more open with me than with other people. Happier, too. I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but that was around the time I started teasing you so much.” She paused, and Minako took that time to reflect. She’d been so deliberate with hiding her feelings, tried so hard not to let anything slip through the cracks, and yet it turned out that she’d known all along. That was… mortifying, actually. Completely and utterly mortifying. If Ryoko didn’t feel the same exact way, Minako would have buried herself underneath her sheet music and died there. “Yukari said she noticed the same thing, actually. She said that you always denied it, but she suspected something was up. I guess I kind of owe this to her, too.” Oh. Okay, now she was going to bury herself under her sheet music and die there. Yukari, too? She’d asked her about it a few times before, in a manner ranging from joking to scarily serious, but she’d thought her adamant denial would have been enough to convince her otherwise. Apparently, she had been wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong.
“This is so embarrassing,” she muttered, looking down at the floor. Well, she would have been looking downwards, anyway, if Ryoko didn’t immediately put a hand on her cheek and lift her head up to meet her gaze.
“That doesn’t matter now.” She spoke so softly and with so much affection in her voice that it hurt. Minako stared helplessly into her eyes, like they’d put her under a spell. “I love you, Mina.” Those three words echoed endlessly through her mind, and she felt her throat tighten immediately. “I’m so glad you feel the same way. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner.” And as if those three words weren’t still repeating themselves in Minako’s mind, she said them again. “I love you.”
Ryoko loved her. Loved her as more than a friend. Loved her as a girlfriend.
Hearing those words wasn’t all that much of a surprise after everything that had just happened, but in a greater context, Minako couldn’t believe she was actually hearing them. She said them so softly, too, like Minako was a fragile object that would break if she spoke too loudly to her. It made her feel sick with love and gratitude and affection and just about every other positive emotion that existed in the universe, and while she was certain she’d never properly be able to express the thousands of thoughts running through her head like scampering mice, she said what had been on the tip of her tongue for months.
“I love you too.” She liked the way the words sounded, but they weren’t enough. No amount of words would ever be enough, but she had to at least try. “So—so much.” And because she had always been better at communicating with actions than words, she leaned in and gave her another soft peck on the cheek. It was just as sweet and warm and breathtaking as before, and Minako wondered if that was a feeling that would ever wear off.
“…You’re so beautiful,” Ryoko smiled, her hand still unmoving from Minako’s cheek. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. I only wish you could see that yourse—”
Knock, knock, knock.
Minako immediately jumped backwards like a frightened cat. She would have felt embarrassed had Ryoko not done the exact same thing, eyes widened and hands jolting away from Minako.
“Ryoko! And, uh, Misato, was it?” A voice called from the other side of the door. It was just one of their club members. Minako’s relief was short-lived, though, as the realization that they were about two seconds away from being caught red-handed hit her like a tsunami. “We’re gonna practice our set together real quick, if you guys wanna join us.” Out of all of the times they could have actually rehearsed, it had to be now!? Her frustration was overwhelming, and she clenched her fist unintentionally. The only reason she noticed she had done it is because Ryoko placed a gentle hand over her fist, interlocking their fingers together.
“Are you ready to go out there?” She asked quietly so they wouldn’t be heard on the other side of the door, once again speaking with such gentle affection that it made Minako’s heart skip a few beats. She thought for a moment on her offer, and while it sounded like heaven to stay in here with Ryoko for the rest of practice after everything they had just confessed to each other, she truthfully wasn’t sure she could take anymore. Her face hurt from how warm it was, her heart was pounding so loudly in her head that she was starting to have a headache, and she could still hardly breathe properly. While all of those conditions sounded like hell to sing with, they would only get worse if she stayed in here with Ryoko and her stupid, flirtatious smiles. And besides, she had all the time in the world to spend time with her after this. One ten minute practice session wasn’t going to change that.
“Yeah,” she mumbled softly, feeling herself smile brightly. Ryoko looked like she was physically holding back another ‘pretty smile’ comment.
“Alright,” she said quietly, then raised her voice to be heard from the other side of the door. “We’ll be out in a minute. And her name is Minako, by the way.” She heard a mumbled out apology from the other side of the door as the girl presumably walked away, and the two of them grabbed their folders and stood up, still holding onto each other’s hands for dear life.
“This is gonna be the worst I’ve ever sounded.” Her comment was made in jest, and she wasn’t expecting any sort of response, but of course, Ryoko wasn’t going to let that slide.
“Even if it is, you’ll still sound beautiful.” Another kiss, though it was to her cheek this time. Somehow, that one made Minako feel more like her body was going to implode than when she kissed her on the lips. “And I’ll be right there by your side.” She squeezed her hand, and Minako squeezed back.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” They walked over to the door, and though it took a few seconds of awkward shuffling to open the door while both holding each other’s hands and carrying their folders, they managed. They stepped out into the choir room, and with a new outlook on the world itself, Minako walked towards the piano where the rest of the girls were gathered.