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An’s bedroom is comfortable. She’s always thought so, and it’d only been confirmed to her further when Kohane started staying over regularly; it’s homely, she’d murmured, expression endlessly fond. It’s like a little capsule of you. I like it.
And by all means, she’s right. Everything– photos on the wall, vinyl records lined like trophies, the hamster plushie Toya won for her, even the old skateboard she’d been gifted as a kid– all of it feels so perfect, a center for all the love in her life. Each little trinket holds a place in her heart, every photo a devoted corner of her memory. All of it is hers; all of it is comforting.
Tonight, that comfort is harder to find.
That’s not to say it isn’t there. It still is, of course it is, but there’s a weight in her chest, an unwelcome shadow in the back of her mind. The more she tries to fight it off, the harder it becomes to ignore; to no one’s surprise, the mental mantra of come on, An, just don’t think about it only makes it stick more. Discontent swirls deeper in her stomach with every moment that passes. She doesn’t like it, not one bit.
“Mm… An-chan?” Kohane’s little voice suddenly pipes up, fuzzy at the edges as she lifts her head from An’s chest, adorable in every way as she blinks slowly. “Are you okay?”
An’s voice catches ever so briefly as she goes to respond. “Ah, y-yeah!” She smiles half-heartedly, bringing a hand up to card fingers through her girlfriend’s hair (it looks so pretty down, after all). “Yeah, of course! Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Mm… you’re quiet, is all.” Kohane’s gaze is soft, honey brown hues filled with utmost care. Still, An shakes her head, “I’m fine, really, ‘Hane,” gently guiding her girlfriend’s head back down to her chest.
Kohane accepts the position readily, nuzzling into her collarbone. “Are you sure…? You’ve seemed a little out of it all afternoon, and we did have a pretty overwhelming day…”
Of course they did, of course; the SEKAI somehow sprouting a whole new area overnight had obviously been more than a little tiring to explore and adjust to. Definitely a lot to deal with, especially given…
No, An. Don’t think about it. Just don’t think about it! It’s that easy.
Kohane makes a soft little sound against her. “Ah, is that it…?”
“N-No!” Hard to not think about it when you’re asking. She waves a hand as if to dissipate the subject, “It’s nothing, I swear. Nothing at all.”
There’s a small noise of discontentment as Kohane brings her head up again. Damn An’s lesbian heart, throbbing just from that. “You’re not a very good liar, An-chan,” she murmurs softly, voice fond and yet edged with concern. “Please?”
A moment passes. An sighs softly; again, she guides Kohane’s head back down, and again, her girlfriend easily complies. They both remain silent for a long few seconds.
“So, um…” Come on, An, spit it out– “Those SEKAI places are all made of our feelings, right…?”
“Mhm, at least that’s what we think. Why?” Kohane shifts slightly, hand creeping up to lay against An’s, resting back on the mattress. “Did you find something?”
“Well, ah…” Rip off the bandaid, come on. “I must have felt really really strongly, ‘cause, um. I kind of.” She swallows thickly. “I conjured up Nagi-san.”
It’s instant, how Kohane stiffens against her, a tiny shocked noise escaping. She exhales slowly, relaxing after a few moments. “Mhm?” Soft fingers slip between An’s own, squeezing gently.
“Y-Yeah. I heard singing, and she was just… there.” Her chest feels a little clogged up. Kohane doesn’t notice, not yet, at least; she squeezes her hand again, humming, a prompt to continue. An stumbles for a moment, “She was all there. Her voice and everything. Like– like she hadn’t aged a day!” She laughs hopelessly, breath hitching, “Which, I guess she hasn’t, but–”
“An-chan,” Kohane murmurs; it’s soft, quiet, but it cuts through her like a knife. “Take a second, it’s okay.”
“M-Mmh.” An’s lips press tightly shut, preventing more words from tumbling out. Kohane’s breath is warm against her skin, rhythm slow and steady; An attempts to follow it, throat threatening to close up on her a few times. Kohane doesn’t lose patience.
Eventually, the smaller girl exhales fully, warm air brushing An’s collarbone. “Only say as much as you want to,” she whispers. The sound is enough to soothe some of the crinkles in An’s heart. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
An takes a breath in carefully, chest heavy as she begins to speak again. “She was there. She was singing, but… she didn’t talk. She looked the same as she did… before.” The image is seared in her mind, now. Silky hair curled around her face and over her shoulders, eyes soft and rounded and kind, still wearing the lipstick and nail polish that An had always stolen as a child. That perfect idol.
“Mm.” A tiny kiss is pressed to her collarbone. “So, what happened? If you want to say.”
Again, she takes a moment to breathe before she speaks again, lest her mind get ahead of her and forget about oxygen entirely. “Um… I called out to her, but she wouldn’t talk to me.” The pain in her chest swells. “She started to leave, so I… I followed her. I ran, but… I couldn’t catch up. No– no matter what I did, how hard I tried, I just.” She swallows nothing. Her throat is dry. “She was leaving. I-I couldn’t catch up.”
Again, they both fall quiet. Kohane allows it to linger, she doesn’t force anything, only continues the slow breathing for An to follow, squeezing her hand periodically. It’s soft. It’s comfort. An exhales slowly.
“…She stopped, eventually. She… she let me get close to her.” An swallows again, a few quick breaths escape her. “She, um… she pet my hair,” a soft, sad laugh, “like– like she always did when I was upset as a kid. Like she… knew, somehow.”
She trails off, though it’s clear that there’s more to say. Kohane nudges her forehead against her after a moment.
An’s breath hitches, and she runs her fingers carefully through her girlfriend’s hair again. Kohane has never pushed, when it comes to this; she takes whatever An is willing to share, encourages her but never expects anything. It’s when she’s at her gentlest, and it makes An want to give her more, share memories she’d never thought would be quite so fragile.
“…There’s this song,” An whispers, unable to bring herself to anything more. “I-I don’t think I’ve sung it in years. We would always use it to practice together. It… it made me want to be like her so badly, singing with her.” Melodies bounce around her skull, somehow as disorienting as they are soothing. “We sang it. Well, I– I did. I don’t know if it… if it counts as her.”
And quiet again.
An has said all she can bring herself to, at least for now; it’s clear that there’s nothing more, but Kohane waits, continuing her soft, slow rhythm. An appreciates the moment of silence. It lets her mind soothe itself; she’d never understood the peace of silences like this until Kohane.
Eventually, Kohane pipes up, her whisper matching An’s. “I can’t… tell you if it counts. Only you get to decide that, I think. But…” another soft squeeze to her hand, “I’m glad you were able to sing with her. Even just a little.”
“Mhm.” An sighs softly. “It– it just. It makes me wish things had… gone differently, you know? That– that you could sing with her too.”
“I know.” Kohane’s voice is small, sweet; she presses another little kiss to An’s skin. “I know, I understand. But… things are okay. They will be.”
Another sigh. “I know.”
Another pause, and then Kohane shifts, bringing her head up again. She leans over An, gaze warm and fond, so loving An could drown in it; Kohane’s emotions are written on her face, they always are, and all she reads now is affection. After a small moment of eye contact, Kohane leans down, pressing a small, soft kiss to An’s lips. A slow, steady reassurance, nothing more and nothing less. An wishes she could keep her there forever.
As is, Kohane pulls away after a few seconds, gaze fixed on An. “Thank you for sharing that all with me, An-chan. You’ll be okay. I promise.”
“Mhm. I know.” It isn’t a lie. She knows, now; so long as she has Kohane, and Akito and Toya, she’ll be okay. Nagi– the memories, the photos, the songs– will always be there. That little piece of her heart is protected, safe in Kohane’s hands.
It always will be.