Chapter Text
Hitori Gotoh could not handle novel situations well.
It was a fact of life for her, as basic as the necessity to breathe. It was encoded in her DNA, a locus signaling that she would always, without fail, have trouble with unfamiliar people or places.
Since she'd met the three incredible women that she felt impossibly lucky to now call her girlfriends, they were always advocating for her. Always acting as her hype squad, always "she asked for no pickles"-ing for her, always prepared to beat up anyone that said something bad about her. Willing to do anything for their Bocchi.
But some things were beyond their help. Hitori didn't think she would ever be able to ask a worker for help finding something at a store, or to make routine phone calls, or to feel comfortable wearing a swimsuit at the beach. Her partners knew and understood that Hitori's anxieties meant she just couldn't do some things, but rather than try to fit a square peg into a round hole, they always worked to accommodate her needs and went above and beyond to ensure her comfort.
Why, then, did Kita invite her to an onsen?
She didn't understand. She couldn't understand. And— she'd only been told a few hours in advance! This felt like too little time for her to even begin attempting to calm her anxieties around a public outing, much less one that involved being naked around strangers...
Baring her body to her partners was mortifying at first, but she had become accustomed to it through exposure. The thought of anyone else she knew, even close friends like Kikuri, seeing her like that made her want to shrivel up.
The idea of being naked, in public, as a trans woman? She didn't want to think about the consequences; she was liable to never go outside again if she did. Sure, she longed to be able to experience hot springs, but that simply wasn't an option for someone like her.
But... Kita seemed so excited about it. She said it would be a special night, just the two of them. They could just relax and look at the stars. Hitori knew that she was just trying to help her try new things, and truthfully, she wanted to have these experiences.
Everything would be okay, Kita told her.
Everything was not okay. Kita had failed to realize just how bad the situation would be for Hitori.
She had to deadname herself on check-in. She was given a men's yukata. And, to top it all off, when Kita went to ask about accommodations for a trans woman... there were none.
Hitori would have to go in the men's bath. There wasn't any option to be with Kita.
She couldn't cry. She couldn't move. She couldn't even think.
She could tell that Kita was trying to get her attention, to bargain, to do anything to salvage the situation, but it wouldn't work.
It couldn't work. Not for someone like her.
This was her fault. Her fault for not just being normal. For not being a real—
Her legs gave out.
Kita was even more frantic now, trying to see if she was injured, attempting to help her up. Hitori wasn't sure herself whether she was hurt. Nothing felt real, as though she no longer inhabited her own body and was acting as a third-party observer.
Hitori had no memory of whatever came next. Anything she may have done was entirely on autopilot.
They left that evening, Hitori's face shrouded by her bangs and Kita trying in vain to keep up her cheerful front.
Hitori could barely walk. Even then, she couldn't bring herself to lean on Kita.
Neither of them said a word for the rest of the night.
These events (what she could remember of them, at least) played on repeat through Hitori's head. She couldn't get them out, couldn't think of anything else. She curled up in Nijika and Ryo's bed, without even the glow of fairy lights illuminating the room.
She thought through what happened three, five, ten, fifty times. She felt like she was going to be sick, were it not for the fact that she had barely eaten in two days. She dimly registered Kita's voice—and Nijika's, and Ryo's—trying to get through to her and at least get her to sustain her body, but she remained largely unresponsive. Her sense of smell worked enough that she could tell that someone, probably Kita, had left food by the bedside. She tried her best to ignore it.
She roughly exhaled and closed her eyes tightly; even as she attempted to cry, she was stopped by the reality that she had been doing so for so many hours and hadn't gotten nearly enough water to compensate. Her head hurt. Her stomach hurt. Her soul hurt.
She shoved her face back into the pillow. Maybe she could get herself to pass out; at least that way she wouldn't have to think about anything and wouldn't be able to be a burden on anyone. Any nightmares that she could have couldn't possibly be as bad as what she had just lived through.
Eventually, she got her wish and lost consciousness, her last thoughts being those of inadequacy and shame and a hope that she would never again wake.
Kikuri immediately recognized something wasn't right with Hitori. Something beyond her usual not-rightness.
The two had been meeting up every couple weeks for some time now—at least a couple years—just to chat about goings-on. Hitori had been tempted to text her and call today's meet off, but some part of her brain managed to drag her out of bed. Maybe she'll have some advice, it told her. Even besides that, she didn't want to inconvenience more people right now.
This time, they were at an izakaya in Kabukicho, Kikuri's usual haunt. It was dim, cramped, devoid of people—exactly what Hitori liked. At any other time, she might have been able to let herself enjoy the bar's relative tranquility, but she felt unworthy of respite after having made such a huge mess of things.
"Hey, Bocchi-chan. What's up?" Kikuri spoke with an uncharacteristically serious tone. She looked Hitori up and down, noting how pale she was and the way that her hands shook. It reminded Kikuri of the way she played up her own misery when trying to mooch off of people, but she could tell that, if anything, Hitori was attempting to hide her pain; the problem here was one far more serious than a lack of money or alcohol.
"Um, well... last week, uh... Ikuyo had me go to an onsen with her," Hitori began, hesitantly.
"Okay." Kikuri's eyes were now open and full of fire. She immediately understood where this was going, but needed to hear it in full.
"And, well, you know, I'm... there's..." She trailed off, unable to maintain eye contact.
"Not really a place for you there?"
Hitori cast her gaze downward and nodded. She didn't want to open up about this, but she needed to vent to someone.
About ten seconds away from bursting into tears, she continued. "And I... I ruined the whole night because I'm not just... a normal girl, a-and now I think Ikuyo feels bad even though it's all my fault for being like this, and..."
"Bocchi." She placed her tattooed hand on her shoulder.
"Huh?"
"You know it's not your fault. Girls like us, it's just... who we are. The people that don't accept us, that don't want us around? They don't fucking matter. Not one bit. I'll drag 'em to hell myself if I have to."
Her glare didn't once divert from Hitori as she spoke. Hitori could feel the rage behind Kikuri's eyes, but it was a tempered rage, directed not at her but at those who would dare hurt her. Nevertheless, her fury burned fiercely and permeated the air; Hitori found herself unsure, just for a moment, if Kikuri wasn't actually a human incarnation of an oni.
"There's ways around dealing with that shit, but... Kita-chan didn't realize there would be anything wrong, did she?"
Hitori gazed morosely into her soda. "...no."
"So now she's blaming herself for making you go through this," Kikuri contemplated, more to herself than to Hitori. She stared intently at her glass, drawing circles around the rim with a finger before speaking again. "...have you two actually spoken about this? As partners?" she asked, those intense violet eyes of hers piercing straight through Hitori.
"Not... not really. She's been trying to do stuff to make up for it, although I don't get why, but... we haven't actually... sat down and talked through this."
Kikuri sighed, her brow furrowed. She pinched the bridge of her nose as she looked down at the bartop, trying her best to cool her anger to a simmer. "I don't really have room to get on someone's ass for running away from their problems, but... do that. Talk to her. It's the only way to get past this."
"...I'll try."
Hitori's karaage arrived. She ate in silence for a few minutes, slowly nibbling at first before hunger pangs drove her to ravenously devour every scrap. Kikuri didn't touch the glass in front of her.
"How have the other two been handling this?"
"They've... they've been trying to help, but, I don't think either of them really have the right words..." Hitori choked out through her sore throat. "They're both just affirming me, but that doesn't really... help with what happened."
"Yeah. I've been there. It's a situation that sucks all around." She sighed again. "Just... do your best, okay? I know you lot are too close to let some shit like this drive you apart."
"I... okay. Thanks for this... K-Kikuri-san." Hitori still wasn't accustomed to calling her by name, even as she insisted on it.
Kikuri wasn't entirely sure what Hitori was thanking her for; she didn't feel as though she had actually helped particularly much. She wanted to help her, but a mere pep talk could hardly solve the world's injustices. All she could do was hope that the girls could sort it out themselves.
Nonetheless, she was glad to have seemingly been of some use to her sister in need. She flashed a toothy grin in response before grabbing her drink, fully prepared to blow all the money she had.
"Order as much as you want, Bocchi-chan. It's on me!"
Hitori returned to the apartment that evening to find the door locked and the lights off. She supposed that the others must have gone out somewhere? She felt like she vaguely recalled something about Nijika and Ryo going out, but she hadn't been paying much attention, considering her current circumstances.
As she took off her shoes, though, she heard a faint sound. Almost like—
Oh no. Her heart sank as she ran to her room as fast as her legs could manage.
Kita was in bed, her face buried into a pillow, her crimson hair messily splayed out in all directions. She was curled up tightly beneath the sheets, squeezing the pillow between her limbs in a deathly tight grip as though it was her only tether to the physical world.
Had she caused this?
"Ikuyo?" she meekly offered.
"H-Hitori... I'm sorry. For everything." Kita responded emptily, barely able to muster the effort to make herself heard.
"N-no, actually I—"
"I... I understand if you don't want anything to do with me anymore," Kita interrupted, her words coming out unevenly.
What? Hitori was caught completely off-guard. She tried to run over so that she could be there for Kita, to hug and console her, but the motor neurons wouldn't fire.
"I messed up big time. I... I made this happen to you. It's entirely because of me..." she continued raspily. Her voice was as a dry, cracked riverbed, once full of life but now entirely drained.
"Wh— no— I—" Everything Hitori had intended to say was now caught in her throat, even as she desperately needed to get the words out. Her vision blurred. Her fingertips went numb. She feared that she might again see the karaage from earlier.
Hitori watched helplessly as Kita pulled away from the pillow to sit up and face her. She swept away the stray hairs that clung to her cheeks, only actually catching around half of them, but still enough for Hitori to witness her mouth hanging open and the tears and mucus trickling down her chin.
"I'm sorry... I'm so fucking sorry, Hitori... The... the way you looked that night, the expression on your face, it's... I don't feel like I can be with you anymore. I don't feel worthy to." Her every word was punctuated by shallow breaths.
"I-Ikuyo, n-no..." The more this went on, the more paralyzed Hitori felt. She couldn't bring herself to look away from Kita, even as the sight of her puffy, bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks tore her heart to shreds.
"I'm so sorry... I never thought that I was fit to stand by your side... I guess now I know for sure..." Kita sobbed as she doubled over, wadding up as much of the sheets for support as she could.
"No, Ikuyo, it... please, it's not your fault..." Tears began forming at the edges of Hitori's own vision. Why couldn't she just move? Now, of all times?
"But it is. It is! I was the one that made you go there! I saw how scared you looked and I still... and then you..." She let out a wail into the balled-up sheets.
Hitori had to do... something, anything, to keep Kita from slipping away. The sound of her voice, usually so warm but now filled only with pain, made her heart ache. She couldn't bear this for a second longer! She couldn't just leave her like this!
"I... I'm s-sorry, Hitori. I know that I can't... that I can't ever make this up to you... I'm sorry that my stupidity has ruined the band and our relationship and—"
"Ikuyo!" Hitori yelled louder than she knew she could. The sound shocked Kita silent.
"Ikuyo, I, I..." She took a deep breath, trying and largely failing to center herself. "O-of course I want to be with you, I can't… I can't imagine my life... without you..." Tears rolled down her cheeks as she put the thought to words. Any confidence she had from her talk with Kikuri was gone.
"You're... you just... you didn't know, that it would be a problem. It's... it's just a mistake, it's easy to make, especially since you're...
"You're used to hanging out with— with real girls, right...?"
The air stilled. Even as Hitori quietly sobbed, Kita stopped.
"What... did you say, Hitori?" Although Kita whispered these words, they felt almost deafeningly loud.
"I... you know, I'm... I get how it can be kind of, a pain, to deal with me, I don't really know what I expected, it's not like I really belong in women's spaces and..."
Kita threw away the covers and leapt from the foot of the bed before grabbing onto Hitori's shoulders, stunning her quiet. Her reddened eyes were full of pain and sorrow and rage and anguish.
"Hitori. Look at me." Stormy blue met murky green.
"Listen to me. You are a woman. You are as much a woman as me, or Nijika, or Ryo, or... anyone you could think of. You being born differently doesn't change anything." Her tone was the most intense Hitori had ever heard her.
She continued, quickly losing her composure, "Hearing you say those things about yourself makes me feel like my heart is being ripped in two... Don't insult the... the girl I love like that, please..."
Kita squeezed her eyes shut and let out a few quiet whimpers through closed lips. Her face bore the expression of one that feels they'd made the biggest mistake of their life—she certainly felt so.
"I think you'd be justified in hating me now, but I... regardless, I can't let this stand. At least let me just—"
"I don't hate you!" Hitori wailed, far louder than she intended. "I don't... I don't hate you, how could I ever hate you, Ikuyo, you're... you keep me going, you're my lodestar, I, I couldn't..."
"But... but I..." Now Kita was at a loss for words.
"Y-you... you thought that things would be okay for me, you just expected better of the world. You were just, trying to help me to do something new, something I've. Always wanted to do..." Hitori mumbled those last words, her eyes averted from Kita.
Kita started to say something, but that last part completely derailed her train of thought. Realization dawned on her face. She had just organized the trip to help get Hitori out of her shell, she didn't know that she actually...
She pulled Hitori into a bone-crushingly tight hug, relenting only a little bit when Hitori let out a death rattle.
"Gods, I'm sorry, Hitori, I had no idea that you... I just thought it would be a fun thing to do with you..." she apologized, hands moving up and down Hitori's back.
Hitori managed to get past the initial shock and reciprocated the hug. "It— it's okay, Ikuyo, you tried. There's just, there's a lot of things I want to do but can't, this is just one more..."
"I." Kita pulled back to again look her in the eyes. "I promise you, Hitori, I'll do everything that I can to make it up to you. Anything. Just say the word."
"No, y-you don't have to..."
"But I want to! For you, my princess. My starlight."
Hitori still couldn't internalize much of what Kita said, couldn't shake away all of the anxiety and doubt and dysphoria. The way Kita was now looking at her, though, she felt a stronger need to try than ever.
Kita reached out to grip her hands tightly, tacitly communicating that we'll make it through this, together. It was weak, but she felt Hitori reciprocate the gesture.