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“So,” Megumi prompts, leaning backwards, “tell me about yourself.”
Miwa laughs, light and airy. She looks away modestly. “Miss Yokata, I'm really not all that interesting,” she protests. She looks back up at Megumi, batting her eyelashes and smiling slightly. It's the sweetest look she can manage.“I'd much rather hear about you.”
Megumi tilts her head and gives her a look that says ‘really?’ “C'mon, Miwa, I've talked about myself all day. You know, like, everything there is to know about me.” Her eyebrows crease, and Miwa has to look away again. “I think I've officially run out of things to share.”
Miwa shakes her head and laughs again. She shifts, pulling her wet legs out of the pool and tucking them underneath herself. “I assure you, you have far more to share than I do,” she insists.
“Miwa,” Megumi whines playfully, “tell me anything. I'm begging. I just want to know one thing.”
“You know my name,” Miwa replies, equally playful. She fleetingly thinks of how odd it is, to be so casual with another person. Something about Megumi, though, relaxes her. She never demands anything of her– well, except now, but this is different. She's not ordering her to clean, or to serve, or to help, she just wants to hear about her. That's new, too.
Megumi laughs, and Miwa can't help but melt. Her laugh is unapologetic, barking and sweet all at the same time. Miwa has heard the cruel laughter of her superiors many times, always aimed at her, and this is technically aimed at her, too, but it's not the same. Back then, when someone laughed at her, it was to belittle her; with Megumi, it's to connect with her.
Miwa's thoughts are cut short when Megumi splashes her with the heated pool water, kicking her foot. Miwa flinches, but laughs, too. It's another new experience– all of this is. She's never been able to wear a swimsuit, always too preoccupied with work, nor has she ever simply hung out with anyone. She normally wouldn't, but Megumi begged, and Miwa couldn't say no to her, not when Megumi had been so sweet and gentle with her the entire time. Besides, by doing this, she's technically performing her duties; a superior requested she spend time with them, so she is obligated to. If she enjoys herself while doing so, well… that's just a fortunate byproduct.
“I meant, tell me something I don't already know about you,” Megumi corrects, still giggling.
Miwa adjusts her body, dipping her feet back into the water. She shyly looks at Megumi, who is looking at her with expecting, kind eyes. Miwa bites the innermost part of her bottom lip, then looks into the water. Her reflection watches her, just like Megumi does, but her reflection doesn't have the same intoxicating and new twinkle that Megumi had in her eyes. She sighs. What does Megumi see when she looks at me? she asks herself. Does she see Miwa, or does she see Tao? Does she see the blood underneath my fingernails, or how soft my hands are?
“What do you want to know?” Miwa asks, forcing her voice and face to be cheerful again.
“Whatever you want to tell me,” Megumi answers.
Miwa closes her eyes for a moment. “I appreciate the sentiment, Miss Yokata, but I function best with specific tasks.”
“You make getting to know each other sound like a chore,” Megumi comments lightheartedly, nudging Miwa with her shoulder. Miwa offers her a wary smile. Is it not? she wonders. “But okay. Why don't you… tell me about your family?”
Miwa blinks. Without thinking, her head whips around to face Megumi. She figures that the expression on her face, one that is completely out of her control now (much to her dismay), must show as much shock as she feels, because Megumi immediately shrinks in on herself. Her eyebrows crease as she studies Miwa's face.
“If you don't want to, we don't have to,” Megumi assures quietly. Her tone is so genuine that it twists Miwa's heart.
Miwa can't look at her. She cares too much. If she stares into Megumi's soft eyes for a second longer, she would spill her guts, and she can't do that. Not when Megumi likes her so much. Not when she built this version of herself up so carefully.
She shakes her head. She stares back into the water, past her reflection. One of her legs moves in slow circles, rippling the image of the murderer staring up at her.
“It's okay, Miss Yokata,” she says calmly. Her voice gets slightly higher as she shifts back into the persona she’s always been forced in. “It's okay. I apologize for my reaction, I just… miss my family.” The lie feels heavy on her tongue, leaving a bitter taste. She swallows thickly and hopes to rid herself of that feeling.
She sees Megumi's reflection relax at that. She huffs out a nervous laugh. “God, I get that,” she murmurs, staring up at the ceiling. Miwa manages to sneak a glance at her. Her expression is neutral enough, but she can see lines of worry etched into her skin. She's telling the truth about missing her family. Miwa wonders what that's like, but she knows she will never find out. She could imagine herself missing Megumi, but the idea of missing any member of her family is a concept so foreign it almost is impossible to picture.
“D'you still want to talk about them?” Megumi asks after a moment of silence, looking back at Miwa. “I know reminiscing and stuff always helps me when I miss Shika and my parents.”
Miwa swallows again. She wants to scream that no, she doesn't want to talk about it because she'd be lying to the one person who has ever given her a shred of kindness, and that, if she was honest, Megumi would know she was nothing but a murderer and a failed servant. She looks down at the tile of the pool's edge.
“I don't see why not,” she forces herself to say. She cuts her eyes back up to Megumi, who was offering her an encouraging and sympathetic smile. She's too nice, Miwa thinks, inner voice torn between fondness and disdain, much too nice for someone like me.
Miwa clears her throat and stands up tall. Her eyes are focused on the opposite end of the square pool. Looking at herself, or even Megumi, would make everything shatter. She inhales deeply. I might as well start with the truth and ease into things.
“I'm an eldest sibling,” she begins, “much like you. I have three siblings– all boys. The second oldest of us, Akira, is well on his way to being the second Tao sibling to be an Ultimate. We expect an acceptance letter next school year, when he's fifteen.”
“That’s awesome,” Megumi comments. “So much talent in one family. That's gotta be a record, right?”
Miwa chuckles. Her cheeks get warm. “A-ah, no. Other families have had more Ultimates in their lineage than us,” Miwa corrected with a small smile. “But thank you regardless, Miss Yokata.
“My other brothers, Susumu and Dai, are twins, and nine years old. They're rambunctious, and messy, but I love them.” Miwa pauses. Her throat feels tight. She didn't intend on getting as emotional as she is. Some parts of her do miss her family, as it turns out, but not much. As young as the twins were, they still treated her just like everybody else. She was as much of a maid to them as she was to her parents. She reminded herself of that a few times, then continued.
“My parents met in Puerto Rico, where my mom is from, while my father was traveling. She moved here with him, got married, and had me, then my brothers. While giving birth to the twins, she… didn't make it,” Miwa explains. Her shoulders sag. She can still remember when her mom was around, when things were better, when she wasn't the Ultimate Housekeeper and was a normal little girl instead. Her memories of that time get hazier with every mess she cleaned, every meal she prepared, and every order yelled at her.
“I'm sorry to hear that,” Megumi said quietly. One of her hands pressed itself gently into the swell of Miwa's back. Miwa tensed, unsure of what to do, but relaxed into it quickly. Her hands were dry and warm and big, a comforting presence. Touch wasn't Miwa's favorite thing, but when Megumi did it, it didn't feel so bad; in fact, Miwa realizes she likes it. She childishly hopes her hand could stay there forever.
Miwa shakes her head and smiles sadly at Megumi. “It's alright, Miss Yokata,” she says. “We've managed.” Because I've become a surrogate mother, Miwa thinks bitterly, looking away again so Megumi can't see how her expression sours slightly, and a servant.
“Is that all?” Megumi asks. “I'm not trying to be like, ‘that's it?’, I just mean… is that all you want to say about your family? ‘Cause I have some more things I wanna know, if you're cool with that.”
Miwa opens her mouth. There is certainly more she can say, yes. She can say how her father, and all of her brothers, due to his influence, treat her like the subhuman scum she supposes she is now. She can say how, after nine years, she grew sick of it. She can say how she bashed her father's brains to the point where he wasn't recognizable anymore.
She can say how happy she felt after murdering him, how right it felt to have his blood sprayed all over her.
She can say how she left her brothers to fend for themselves. She can say how she did this all while they were at school, washed herself up, grabbed the bags she always kept packed, and left. She can say how she thinks about her brothers every night– how they reacted, where they think she went, how they're doing.
Instead, though, she smiles and looks at Megumi, saying, “Yes, I believe that's all. I told you I wasn't terribly interesting.”