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A faint reflection in Kanade’s dusty mirror showed a purple-haired figure turning and shifting in the dawn light.
Mafuyu had gone online by herself to order a dress. It was the first purchase she had ever made independently, embarrassingly enough (More so since her girlfriend relentlessly insisted on celebrating it).
It stuck out to her when she had first browsed on her phone. A knee length white skirt with lace trailing up to the sleeves, which were frilly and semi-transparent. It felt right in a way she couldn’t describe.
A warmth budding in her chest.
The fragility of that feeling had been shattered in replacement of cold, icy hatred. It didn’t fit right. She disliked the curves it gave her, which twisted her body into a foreign entity that didn’t match up with her inner thoughts. It constricted her and made it hard to breathe.
And in a strangely humorous yet repulsive way it gave her the appearance of an abnormal butterfly that had burst from its cocoon too soon.
Wings, her arms, misshapen and thin with thick scarring. Areas of fat and muscle being even more accentuated. Disgusting.
She sunk down to the ground, unlacing the ties on the back of the dress. The top fell to her crossed legs, giving her space to gasp for air.
It came in quick cold bursts, and Mafuyu drank all of it until she was able to whisper a weak, “I’m sorry.”
To whom, she did not know. To Kanade, for having this hideous breakdown in the room she was lucky enough to have been given? To her mother, for becoming something she was never supposed to be…To herself?
She caught the eye of the reflected girl, flinching and turning away again. Mafuyu crossed her arms over her chest, drew her knees to her stomach, and dared to face her again.
Everything was wrong. She was distorted and where, where was the girl who her girlfriend loved?
“…Kanade…”
The door slid open, revealing the weaker build of the shortly mentioned girl.
Speak of the devil. Mafuyu thought, cursing herself internally. She looked like a mess. She wasn’t even dressed properly.
Kanade's footsteps were careful as she approached, each step deliberate in its gentleness. Like approaching a wounded animal, Mafuyu thought with bitter amusement. Though she realized that wasn't too far from the truth.
"I brought tea," she said simply, setting down a tray on a small nightstand. The ceramic cups clinked softly against each other, a sound that grated at Mafuyu’s ears. It screamed to her that the result of her first purchase wasn’t surprising - curled up half-dressed on the floor, shaking behind folds of iridescent lace. At least the tea would be warm.
"I look ridiculous," Mafuyu managed to scoff, though the usual bite in her self-deprecation was muffled by exhaustion.
Kanade's response was to drape a soft blanket over Mafuyu's shoulders— one that had seen them through many similar breakdowns. It was well-worn, grey and printed with navy-colored bunnies. It was silly, really. But…
Kanade mumbled, “…you always tug at your sleeves when you're anxious. And when you're really upset, you count the bunny prints on this blanket - I've watched you do it at least a hundred times. Sometimes you mouth the numbers. 128 of them. Not counting the ½ that’s cut off by the edge.” She giggled.
She settled next to Mafuyu, carefully maintaining a distance while staying close enough to wrap her arm around her side. "And you bite your lip when you're trying not to cry, just like you're doing right now... The first time I saw that was when you burned your tongue on my too-hot tea, but you were too polite to say anything."
The purple-haired girl paused. “…that was like three years ago.”
Kanade poured fresh tea into one of the cups, the familiar scent of lavender clearing Mafuyu’s mind. “…and I still remember. There’s so many sides to you, not just your appearance. You're my girlfriend, who organizes her phone apps by color, who always tests the temperature of her drink with her pinky first, who hums melodies when she thinks no one can hear."
The previously mentioned cup was pushed toward Mafuyu. She took it gingerly, and opened the blanket briefly, refusing to look at herself.
She tugged Kanade closer and the composer’s head fell onto her shoulder. It felt warm. So warm.
Underneath the soft cotton, Kanade’s hand ran up and down Mafuyu’s arm. The girl’s features eased slightly.
“Your scars are healing well," she murmured, relaxing in relief. "You're taking better care of yourself… Aren’t you?" Kanade’s fingers traced the faded lines. Each one jabbed into her with harsh memories of her and her girlfriend’s time in high school. She knew those moments probably more intimately than her own. Mafuyu gripped the blanket tighter around herself and Kanade, letting out a shaky sigh. The steam from her tea curled upward, forming wisps of heat before dissolving in the cold.
"I'm trying," she whispered back, and, for some reason that only further disgusted her, she didn’t like that it came out of her own mouth. When she was scarred, she was safe. Thick spurts of blood and thoughts that stormed with self-annihilation formed an impenetrable haze that let her not feel, escape the pressures of her future and role in her life.
She had been feeling for a long time now. Sometimes she hated it.
That very hatred was an emotion gripped at her with clawed hands, and refused to let go. Feelings of humiliation; the dress that twisted her insides with disgust. Love so strong that it bordered on obsession. At times it felt that being numb, feeling nothing would be so much better than this.
But being empty never brought warmth. Kanade's presence wouldn’t feel the same. She didn’t want it to change.
Maybe feeling was inevitable, and maybe that wasn't entirely terrible. A weak smile crept onto Mafuyu’s face, one that Kanade noticed and mirrored.
“Feeling a little better?”
The purple-haired girl nodded.
Slowly, she stood up and turned to the mirror again. Her nose crinkled and she felt her mind begin to buzz. Almost immediately, Kanade’s hands were on her shoulders and gripping them tightly, as she began to whisper into her ear. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. I’m so happy I get to love you. You’re perfect for me. Every part of you.” The mirror had the blanket haphazardly thrown over it. And when Mafuyu began to shiver, the composer let go for a second to take off her worn sweatshirt. It was a dark gray that faded to white, tied around the hood with a red ribbon. The fabric was thick and heavy, which Kanade had noticed calmed her anxiety significantly. Left in a purple tank top, she tugged the item of clothing onto Mafuyu. She adjusted the thick sweatshirt on her frame, the comforting weight of it pressing gently onto her shoulders in replacement of Kanade’s hand. The latter took a step back, observing cautiously for any looks of discomfort (given Mafuyu had some issues with conveying her feelings clearly), but she only tugged the sleeves absentmindedly, her shaking fingers tracing over their frayed edges. It felt a great deal better— not perfect, but better.
The mirror remained obscured, its surface hidden behind the blanket. For a moment, the room felt muted. Nothing was too loud or stinging at Mafuyu’s figure. It was a fragile peace. Because of that, Kanade didn’t speak immediately; she simply sat cross-legged on the floor, humming a quiet melody in the voice that saved Mafuyu, over and over again.
The lyricist broke the silence first. "Do you ever feel like you’re someone else? It’s like I look in the mirror and I don’t recognize the eyes that look back. They look empty." Her voice was quiet and shaky, for fear of disturbing the calm they had created with selfish questions.
Kanade rested her head against her girlfriend’s, biting her lip to contemplate. "Sometimes," she admitted softly. "But I think it’s different for me. For you, I think your identity is still fragmented, it hasn’t come together yet. The you in your mind, the you that was faked for most of your life, the you in the mirror, they’re all unique and strung together by small details. For me… it’s more like I can’t accept the person I became with change. Not yet, anyway." The composer paused, then added on, "I think it’s okay not to have all the answers right now."
Mafuyu let out a shaky, bitter laugh. She folded her arms tightly around herself. "You make it sound so easy."
Kanade’s brow furrowed slightly, clearly in deep thought. "It’s not. It’s easier said than done.” She murmured. “But... I think it’s worth trying to focus on comfort. Even if it’s just little things, like finding something that feels good. Like my sweatshirt," she said with a small smile, gesturing toward the oversized garment that had been stolen from her (Um. Not like she… minded).
Mafuyu looked down at the sweatshirt, her fingers curling into the soft fabric. It did feel better, like a protective layer against the cold that gripped at her. She glanced back at Kanade, who was still sitting patiently, her expression calm and as soothing as always.
"Kanade," Mafuyu began hesitantly, her voice thick. The words stuck in her throat. "How can you even stand this? Stand me? I’m such a mess all the time. I can’t even wear a dress without falling apart. You could easily find someone who isn’t fucked up like me, when you’re this perfect."
Kanade leaned forward, her hands resting lightly on Mafuyu’s knees. Her voice was steady but laced with tenderness. "Because I love you, Mafuyu. Not just the parts of you that you show to mask, but all of you. The girl on good days, the bad days, the days where you’re not sure what you feel. You’ve saved me, just as much as I’ve saved you. And I can list far more reasons.” She reached her hands out, cupping Mafuyu’s face. “…Try not to worry yourself. We’re staying together.”
The lyricist was able to exhale. Something about this reassurance had unraveled something deep in her, that was previously holding her heart in a tight grip. Inhaling felt easier, her breathing no longer constrained. It gave her the ability to speak, even if it still ached.
“Kanade.”
“…Mafuyu.” She smiled quietly.
“I love you.”
The pale-haired girl giggled, her voice airy and light. Caught slightly off guard, she stammered, “That was sudden...! I love you too, sweetheart.”
The warmth.
It was back.
Mafuyu wanted to say those words a thousand times and more to see that face, see Kanade’s eyes light up. Making her happy, being happy.
She loved her. Maybe someday… she could love herself too.
Today she would take it slow.