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Mafuyu flinched at the sound of the front door opening. She wiped at her face with her sleeve, soaking the fabric in tears and snot, her skin burning where the side of her hand brushed her cheek. Taking deep breaths wasn’t working; she’d been trying to be quiet, but she couldn’t slow her breathing, couldn’t stop herself from whimpering with every sob, and now it was too late. Someone was coming and she couldn’t possibly make herself look normal. She was done for.
“Yuki?”
Mafuyu went limp, relief flooding her body like iced water, shaking against the back of her chair. Kanade. Just Kanade. She didn’t have to worry about those kinds of things anymore.
Still, though. Kanade had seen her cry, but never like this. She’d always kept herself dignified, quiet, manageable, wiping her eyes and sniffling softly without drawing attention to herself, and Kanade was good about not reacting. Kanade would sit next to her, cutting her an apple or offering her an earbud, and it would pass, and they’d act like nothing happened. The space between them was tangible, an invisible patch of freezing air, but Mafuyu figured it was safer that way. Kanade probably liked it better that way, too. They loved each other, and that meant keeping things comfortable for one another.
Mafuyu imagined what she probably looked like, what Kanade would see once she turned on the light— a mess of tears, red eyes and red cheeks, hands shaking, shoulders heaving. Whining like an animal.
This isn’t comfortable.
She closed her eyes, biting down on her fist, trying not to make any sound while Kanade rustled around in the entryway.
“Yuki?” Kanade called again, her voice hovering somewhere between curiosity and concern. Mafuyu swallowed hard, trying her best to breathe, praying that her voice didn’t shake.
“Kanade?”
“Oh.” Mafuyu heard a thump from down the hall, followed by rushed footsteps. “Mafuyu. I’m— what’s— um, what happened?”
Mafuyu didn’t even try to reply. She buried her head in her arms, weeping into her sleeves, useless to do anything but cry even as she knew she was supposed to pull herself together, sit up straight, welcome Kanade home.
Kanade’s hand stuttered across Mafuyu’s back, slowly trailing from shoulder to shoulder, like she wasn’t sure of what she was doing. Still, Mafuyu relaxed a little bit, warmth spreading through her from the places Kanade had touched.
“It’s okay, Yuki,” Kanade murmured. “Here. I’ll play that song you liked.”
The floorboards creaked as Kanade headed for her laptop, sitting on the desk across the kitchen. Mafuyu nodded, though she knew Kanade wouldn’t see it. Slowly, she pushed herself up, wiping her eyes and then drying her fingers on her skirt. She forced herself to take a deep breath. Kanade was helping her. Kanade cared.
Her shoulders fell as the cold swirled around her like a thick blanket, destroying every glimmer of warmth inside her before she could even try to hold on.
“Mafuyu, honey, oh no, did we fall?”
Mafuyu nodded through huge tears, everyone else on the playground staring at her as she wailed. “I— I was climbing the ladder,” she sniffled, “and I fell all the way down from the top!”
“Awww, Mafuyu,” her teacher cooed, crouching to sit beside her. “Can I look?”
Mafuyu nodded again, hiccuping as her sobbing slowed.
“Ohhh,” her teacher breathed, gently touching Mafuyu’s scraped-up knee. “I can see how this hurts. And falling from all the way up there must have been very scary. You’re a very brave girl.”
“Thank you,” Mafuyu mumbled, wrapping her arms around her legs and pulling them in to her chest. There were bark chips stuck to her hands. She held them out, palms up, for her teacher to examine. “Look. I got sticks in my skin.”
“That’s okay!” Her teacher brushed the bark chips off Mafuyu’s palms, quickly checking for slivers. “See! All better! Do we need anything else, or do you want to go back and play with your friends?”
The other kids on the playground had all gone back to their games, but Mafuyu didn’t really want to join in with any of them. Nobody seemed to like her that much. Everyone said she was weird and mean and didn’t know how to play. She shook her head. “My leg still hurts.”
“Aw, well, you’re not bleeding, but we can get you a band-aid anyway if that’ll help you feel better.” Her teacher stood all the way up, offering her a hand and helping her off the ground. “Or, I know something else that might make you feel better.”
Mafuyu looked up at her with huge eyes. “What?”
Her teacher smiled, squatting to Mafuyu’s height and taking one of Mafuyu’s little hands in both of hers. “Do you want a hug?”
Mafuyu had seen other kids give each other hugs before, and it seemed sort of nice, even if she didn’t really understand. She considered it for a moment before nodding.
“Alright.” Her teacher held out her arms, and hesitantly, Mafuyu shuffled closer to her, letting her pull her close and pat her back. Mafuyu grinned, surprised at how happy it made her feel. She clung to her teacher tighter, hanging on until her teacher told her it was time to go play.
“Thank you,” she said softly, resisting the urge to grab on around her teacher’s legs and stay there ‘til recess was over. “My leg feels all better now.”
“Of course, Mafuyu,” her teacher replied. “I’m glad.”
Mafuyu nodded, standing and watching while her teacher walked away.
“Do you feel better?” Kanade asked, turning from the computer and watching Mafuyu with unreadable eyes. Mafuyu wrapped her arms around herself, shuffling her feet. Kanade’s expression almost scared her. She didn’t understand it. Kanade had done all the right things; she’d seen Mafuyu crying and rushed to help her the best way she knew how. They were both supposed to be happy now. They’d settled into something like happiness before. Every time Mafuyu was scared or sad or upset, Kanade would comfort her and then Mafuyu would dip her head and say thank you, and Kanade would smile, and Mafuyu would cook dinner while Kanade worked. And Mafuyu felt safe. Cared for. More cared for than she ever had at home.
Still, it was cold, and maybe it wasn’t just cold but… empty. Mafuyu couldn’t help but wonder, sometimes, if she had anything real to do with it at all. If Kanade would treat anyone like this if they seemed enough like they needed it. Kanade was wonderful, always did everything she could to help, but it always seemed to be in response to something, never out of the blue. She’d never hold Mafuyu close just because. It was always to fill some sort of obligation, and Mafuyu was just the person she’d chosen to devote herself to.
That didn’t make any sense, though. Mafuyu was reading too far into things. Kanade loved her.
She shrugged. “Kind of.”
Kanade nodded, the intensity hardening on her face. “I understand.” She turned back to the desk. “I’ll play you another one.”
Mafuyu forced herself to smile. Kanade loved her. This was just how she knew how to show it.
“Thank you.”
“Mommy!” Mafuyu shouted, hanging her school bag on the hook by the door and running inside. “I fell off the playground at school today but it was okay because Miss Yoshinaka gave me a hug and said it was all okay!”
“Hi, Mafuyu,” her mother murmured, standing up from the table and coming to meet Mafuyu in the middle of the hall. “Did you learn anything else at school today? Anything good? What are you learning in math?”
Mafuyu took her coat off and turned back to her mother. “I dunno,” she mumbled, too focused on recess to remember what they’d done in class. “I didn’t really notice.”
“Oh, Mafuyu,” her mother replied, her voice growing colder. She seemed to grow taller right in front of Mafuyu’s eyes, and Mafuyu took a couple steps back, holding her coat tight to her belly. “That’s no good. We’re sending you to a very good school, we pay a lot of money for you to learn. You need to pay attention.”
Mafuyu nodded, looking down at her shoes. “Okay. I’m sorry.”
Her mother sighed. “It’s okay, Mafuyu. You can do better tomorrow.”
“Um.” Mafuyu shuffled her feet. “Miss Yoshinaka said hugs make people feel better.” Maybe her mommy wouldn’t be so mad at her if Mafuyu gave her a hug. “And I think it worked on me.”
“That’s nice, sweetie,” her mother said, messing with something on the table. Mafuyu stood still for a moment, watching her busy herself. She seemed angry at Mafuyu. Maybe a little bit sad, even.
Maybe Mafuyu could make her feel better, too. Quietly, she crept forward, wrapping her arms around her mother’s legs and pressing her cheek into her skirt.
“Oh! Oh. Oh, Mafuyu.” Her mother grabbed one of her hands, prying it off her leg and gently pushing Mafuyu back away from her. “I’m glad that you liked the hug you got from Yoshinaka-sensei, but we don’t do that, okay?”
“Mommy,” Mafuyu murmured, hands clasped behind her back, “Miss Yoshinaka said we don’t have to call her that, that she wants us to—”
Her mother held up a hand, cutting her off with a sharp sound. “I don’t care what Yoshinaka-sensei says, Mafuyu,” she said, and her voice was deep, stern, shaking a bit. Like her mommy was hiding something that she didn’t want Mafuyu to hear. “It’s about respect .”
Mafuyu nodded. “I’m sorry, Mommy. I won’t, um. I won’t call her that ever again. Or try to give you any more hugs.”
She peered up at her mother, who was frowning at her with crossed arms.
“Good.”
Kanade was fixated on her computer, eyes narrowed to slits as she scrolled through her files. Her mouse trembled as it lingered over every .mp4, Kanade’s breathing slow and silent while she stared into her screen. “I’m sorry,” she breathed, clicking to open a different folder. “I’m working on finding the right one.”
“It’s okay,” Mafuyu rasped, her throat raw from screaming. “Um. You don’t really need to play me anything else if you don’t want to.”
Kanade’s breath caught audibly in her throat. She slammed her laptop shut, turning around to face Mafuyu, and on instinct, Mafuyu staggered back. Something shifted behind Kanade’s eyes. They seemed to glow, almost, shining with a severity that looked a bit like anger.
“I want to.”
“O-okay,” Mafuyu replied. “But. Can you also, um.” She reached for Kanade, who’d already turned away and opened her laptop back up. “Can I just—”
She closed her eyes, listening to her heart pound, thinking of her mother. Thirteen years ago, back when Mafuyu had been five years old and innocent and hopeful and stupid, back when— Damn it.
Miss Yoshinaka said hugs make people feel better!
Kanade’s hand twitched over the trackpad.
“Also?” she whispered.
Mafuyu said nothing. Didn’t move. Didn’t even breathe. Just stood there, fingers stretched towards Kanade, listening to the ticking of the clock.
Kanade didn’t turn back around, eyes fixed on the screen, the rigid curve of her back barely rising as she took long, shallow breaths.
“Aren’t the songs enough?”
Mafuyu was exhausted. Exhausted, and all she wanted was to curl up with Kanade on the couch and share a bag of popcorn, and they’d lean into each other and feed on each other’s warmth, and all the stress and all the anxiety and all the misery of the past day— hell, the past fucking week— would melt away as they melted into each other, and they’d be happy. They’d love each other. All Mafuyu wanted to do was lay down with Kanade in bed and hold hands while they drifted off to sleep together. In love .
“It’s not about me, is it?” she heard herself say, in a voice too clear to be familiar.
Kanade didn’t respond.
“You’re not doing this for me.” Mafuyu sighed, feeling her shoulders relax. She took comfort in the cold. It numbed her, almost. “It’s not about me. It’s about whoever you can save . Because that’s what you want.”
The screen of Kanade’s laptop went dark. Mafuyu pressed on.
“You’d date anyone you thought needed fixing. And it wouldn’t be about them, either. It’s all for you.” She felt herself start to cry again, but she stayed still, letting the tears roll down her cheeks. “When I get upset, like— like I was, I want you . I want to lay down with you and hear you tell me it’s okay. And when you get upset, you go to the computer. And you work on your music.”
Kanade cleared her throat. “And?”
“And it wouldn’t matter!” Mafuyu snapped. “It wouldn’t matter if that wasn’t all you cared about!”
“I care about you.” Kanade’s voice was even. Too even. Mafuyu peered around her head. She’d woken her laptop back up, still scrolling through songs.
“ Damn it, Kanade.” Something inside Mafuyu crumbled. It didn’t feel as earth-shattering as it should’ve. Maybe it had been crumbling for a while and she just hadn’t seen it. “Can’t you just love me?”
Kanade scoffed. Like Mafuyu was the one being ridiculous. “What are you talking about?”
“I don’t need all of this!” Mafuyu gestured to the computer. “I don’t need you to write all these songs and all these— this— I don’t need you to save me, okay? Look at me!”
Slowly, Kanade turned to look over her shoulder at Mafuyu, hand still hovering over the keyboard. “What?”
“I don’t want another song . I never wanted anything.”
Kanade’s eyes softened. “I’m doing this for you.”
“I know you think that,” Mafuyu murmured. “And I’m sorry. But you’re not. You never were. It’s all for you.”
Kanade turned back to her computer. “I’m sorry.”
Her voice was hard. Fake. Like she was just saying it to shut Mafuyu up.
She knew that tone. Mafuyu shook her head, chasing her mother out of her mind, staring at the back of Kanade’s neck.
“Kanade,” she said softly, waiting for her girlfriend to look at her. Wishing. Holding on to hope.
Kanade didn’t move. “Mm?”
Oh, Mafuyu. We don’t do that.
Mafuyu blinked, hands shaking by her side. The cold pressed in on her, less comforting now, but she tried to remember how to breathe through the chill, watching Kanade pull up a music program. The world seemed to dim as the final flicker of light died inside her.
“ All I wanted. Was a fucking hug.”