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Asahina Mafuyu does not understand love.
Asahina Mafuyu does not understand many things. She does not know why it is that she struggles to process others’ emotions, something that has caused her no shortage of trouble. She does not know why she cannot taste the foods which—judging by the glowing reviews of her friends—must be nothing short of delicious.
Asahina Mafuyu has grown, naturally. Slowly but surely learning to read those around her based on expression and the inflection in their voice, even if she still needed help grasping more complex emotions. Occasionally pausing at the faintest tingle of flavor on the tip of her tongue, always wishing to savor what little of it she could. But love, that supposedly ubiquitous affliction of the heart? She is hopelessly naive, no more than an idealistic child. And she is a hopeless victim to that parasite called love.
Asahina Mafuyu desperately wants to understand love, more than anything else in the world. She craves it, a desire—a need—to indulge in its sweet nectar. She is a captive to its whims, wholly enraptured by her captor, her savior, her love.
Her Yoisaki Kanade.
She immersed herself in her work; cut after cut, clean and practiced, a rhythm building with each subsequent hit of her knife against the cutting board. It crescendoed in a drawn-out scrape, gathering up the fruits of her effort to be gently dropped into the broth. Beef, carrot, potato, onion, all simmered and robotically stirred under the oppressive whirring of the range hood.
Her forehead glistened with sweat under the intense kitchen light, it coated her hands, loose hairs stuck to the back of her neck and clothes clung to damp skin; the feeling is hardly an unpleasant one though. She was cooking an extra special childhood favorite of hers, all for her love, and isn’t enduring such discomforting sensations merely proof of her labor of love?
…It smelled good, nostalgic. She lifted the stirring spoon to her lips, giving a soft cooling blow before the anticipated sample… It tasted like nothing, unsurprisingly. Lately, she found herself attracted to foods with an excess of ingredients and spices over such a simple recipe, if only for the slim chance to partake in the joys of flavor. She can’t deny her disappointment, but it’s hard to linger on for long. After all, she is content as long as the dish is suitable to her love’s sensitive palate.
Only a few short minutes later and a blunt tapping of the spoon against the pot’s rim signaled the meal’s completion. With food quickly plated and set, all that remained was the beloved guest that all of her hard work was in service to.
She made her way out of the kitchen and down the hall, every footstep heightening her anticipation, the floorboards creaking under her weight. It felt like an eternity, she was growing tired; was the hallway always this long? And yet her pounding heart threatened to break free from her chest, she had never been more alert in her life. She finally reached the door at the end left slightly ajar, and announced herself with a light knock before peeking her head inside.
“Kanade. Dinner is ready.” Monotone, as usual.
The other girl perked up from the computer she was always so engrossed in at her call and turned to her with a smile. “Mm? Oh, of course. I’ll be right there.”
She scanned over the surrounding room from the doorway. It was a mess, littered with all sorts of boxes and sheet music ranging from crumpled and creased to pristine. Of course, this was all normal. What caught her eye was the open closet, all sorts of supplies and knickknacks seeping out onto the floor. Behind those, however, lay an old acoustic guitar solemnly resting on its stand at the far back of the closet. It seemed… lonely.
“Kanade, what’s with the mess?” She turned her attention back to the other girl, though her tone was now far more inquisitive.
“Ehehe… I was having trouble getting my idea for our new song to sound right, then I remembered some old reference materials my dad used to use were still in storage, so…” She stammered on futilely in an attempt to dissuade Mafuyu’s questioning glare, soon devolving into childish pleading. “I-I’ll put it all away after dinner, I promise!”
Mafuyu knew she couldn’t trust Kanade’s word when it came to tidying, but just hearing it was enough to satisfy her for now. She softened her expression ever so slightly and looked back to Kanade, who flashed a smile so awkward and yet so full of warmth.
The bluish hue of the monitor behind her, the only light illuminating the room, bathed her stark silver hair in a haunting glow; the sight was ethereal, almost divine. Mafuyu’s eyes widened an unnoticeable amount. She couldn’t help but stare for a moment, entranced. Even after finally mustering the strength to tear herself from the doorway, it lingered on her mind as she walked back to the kitchen. Her world, her savior, her love.
It wasn’t much longer until Kanade emerged, brightening the kitchen with her presence. She sat down at the table, Mafuyu patiently waiting on the opposite side. “You said you were making beef stew, right? I haven’t had that in a long time.”
“Yeah. My mom used to make it often for me during the cold months, it was always a favorite, I think.” Mafuyu looked down into the thick, murky broth in her bowl. 'Nostalgia?' What a joke… She doesn’t feel much of anything for this dish, certainly not the warm, fuzzy memories she supposedly had for it.
Why did she even cook this, of all things?
“Mm, it smells great.” Kanade, mercifully, spoke up before Mafuyu could question her choices further. Right, this is all for her. All for Kanade. Kanade. Kanade. Kanade. Kanade.
“Mafuyu? Are you okay?”
Kanade. Kanade. Kanade. Kanade.
“Mafuyu?”
“Huh?” Oh. Was she spacing out? “I’m fine, sorry. I’ve just never made it myself before. I hope you like it.”
“I’m sure I will. You made it after all, Mafuyu.” Her tender voice was a radiant melody to Mafuyu’s ears, a gentle reminder of what all of her work was in service to.
She fixated on Kanade. All of her little habits that she’s examined, learned, grown to love.
The way she innocently gave thanks for every meal, no matter how small or simple. She clasped her hands lackadaisically, her tone half-hearted, almost like a child being forced into politeness by her parents during a family get-together. The way that, in spite of this, she had been consistent, ever grateful for something to eat as if it were her final meal. Just another form of self-inflicted punishment, Mafuyu thought. It’s different with her cooking though; Kanade always seemed genuinely happy to eat something of her making, the tiniest bit more life in her body, like she allows herself to indulge in the delights of food for a change.
She was so much more used to using chopsticks with her favorite noodles that it took her a moment to adjust to the spoon in her hand, awkwardly wrapping her fingers around it until she found a semi-comfortable position. She brought a little bit of steaming stew to her lips, practically winding herself just trying to blow to cool it off—she really needed to work on her constitution… Mafuyu couldn’t help but adore that too, though.
With some apprehension, she pecked at the spoon, unsure if it would still singe her tongue now. Her face perked up at the sensation and she relievedly took a full bite, eyes sparkling in response. Those beautiful, ocean blue eyes. Her tired, precious eyes that were rarely graced with such light. Her eyes that reflected only Mafuyu.
Mafuyu was obsessed, lost in the sea of her love without a lifeline. The waves churned violently, beating against her face, threatening to consume her whole. And who was she to fight back?
“...fuyu?”
To succumb to the embrace of her love, let it wash over her. If she were to drown in its murky depths here and now, Mafuyu would probably be happy.
“Mafuyu?”
A pale arm penetrated the water Mafuyu had submerged herself in, aimlessly flailing around as if in search of something. It brushed past her hand before doubling back and gripping it as if its owner’s life depended on it.
A muffled voice reverberated from the surface above, calling something over and over again. Its grip was weak, only hindered further by the current carrying Mafuyu away. It was slipping, it knew it could not hold on much longer. The voice grew louder—its desperation barely reaching Mafuyu’s waterlogged ears—but it just wasn’t strong enough.
The arm finally relented, hanging limp just out of reach. That voice—now choked and out of breath—slowly, agonizingly, grew quieter and more distant as she sank. Deeper, deeper.
“Mafuyu!” Kanade practically leapt from her seat, chair squealing across the floor as she rose.
“Hmm? …Kanade?” She tilted her head to one side confusedly, as if nothing were out of the ordinary.
“A-Are you all right, Mafuyu? You’ve hardly touched your food, and you seemed to be in a daze…” The worry in her voice was palpable, eyes ripe with worry.
Mafuyu was given a momentary pause at the sight of Kanade’s clear distress. “Sorry for worrying you… I’m not very hungry. All the cooking might have tired me out, I’ll be fine.” She feigned composure, but grimaced at herself internally for leaving Kanade so afraid.
“Are you sure? Maybe you should get to bed early tonight…” Kanade’s perception was almost frustrating when it came to Mafuyu sometimes.
“I’ll try. I’m far more worried about your health though, Kanade. How was your dinner?” She gestured to the empty bowl in front of her.
“Oh. Right, I almost forgot. It was delicious! Thank you for always taking the time to cook like this, Mafuyu. It really beats instant noodles three times a day… hehe.” Kanade awkwardly giggled at her own self-deprecating comment in an effort to lighten the mood.
Mafuyu beamed in response—as close as she could come to beaming, at least—to hear Kanade’s positive review, but it disappeared just as fast. “Is something the matter with it? Please don't hide your thoughts from me, Kanade…”
A hint of concern underpinned Mafuyu’s tone of voice. It seemed to shake Kanade slightly, “Ah, n-nothing like that! I just… You put in all this work, and I have no idea how I could possibly repay any of it…”
“What are you talking about? You work harder than anyone in the group on composing, all for my sake. I never said you owed me anything else.” Mafuyu paused, an idea coming to her. “If it doesn’t bother you though… could I make a request?”
It was then Kanade’s turn to tilt her head in confusion. “Really? I’d be glad to do anything—w-within reason of course, not that I expect anything you ask to be outlandish.”
“Can you play guitar for me?
Strum. Pluck. Tune. Strum again. This process repeatedly echoed down the hallway from the cracked-open door.
Kanade was sat on the edge of her bed, legs dangling off the side. She cradled her father’s old guitar on her lap and fiddled with each of its long out-of-tune strings.
“I’ll try my best, but I haven’t played in a long time,” she paused her train of thought for a moment to check her work, running her finger meticulously over each string in focused silence. “I never really had much experience with guitar to begin with, I hope you don’t expect too much of me, Mafuyu.”
She shifted her focus to the floor in front of her where Mafuyu sat politely on her knees and flashed a knowing smile, no need for any response from her sole audience member.
Mafuyu’s heart choked. She was like an eager puppy only maintaining composure at the promise of a treat; if she had a tail, it would certainly be wagging out of control by now. Kanade really did look divine, gazing up at her like this.
The onset of Mafuyu’s delusions was interrupted by a sudden, beautiful strum; Kanade had finally finished tuning. She took note of her hands, one shakily hovering at the ready over the strings, the other making its way up the neck, shuddering at the quiet shrill as it fingered the G note the whole way.
“All right… I think I’m ready.” Kanade took a deep breath, stilling her fingers in preparation.
Her first chord was slow and clumsy, straining her hand to press down on the right strings. It was off-key, out of time, only vaguely recognizable as one of their own songs. Kanade couldn’t even break sight with the neck, too focused on trying to force her fingers to cooperate. It was completely unlike the Kanade who always fixated on perfecting the tiniest details of her music. It was amateurish, entirely devoid of any grace or deep purpose.
It was beautiful.
Every note, every little imperfection in Kanade’s playing imprinted itself into Mafuyu. Her brow would furrow at every slip of a finger, she would cringe at each off-sounding note, her uneven voice trying to hum along in a vain effort to keep pace.
This was Yoisaki Kanade. Raw, unfiltered, authentic. Her precious Yoisaki Kanade.
There was no room for anything in Mafuyu’s soul but the sight and sound of her love. Everything else was a haze, fire swelling in her chest, lingering sweat leaving a chill down her back. Mafuyu was drunk on Kanade’s dulcet tones, savoring each and every flavor as if partaking in the finest aged wine.
How she wished to be graced by this flawless imperfection for eternity, to offer her own voice to this choir of love such that only death could tear apart their harmony.
Mafuyu was addicted. She sat in purest bliss, numb to all but the song. A song just for the two of them. Just for her. Just for her savior.
“Ow!”
What? It… stopped? What happened…? Kanade? Why is Kanade not singing? Is Kanade okay? Is Kanade hurt? Kanade… KanadeKanadeKanadeKanadeKanade—
Mafuyu lunged from her seat to the foot of the girl in front of her, staring up at her like a scared animal. Kanade flinched at her, one hand held tightly over the other and guitar laying flat on her lap.
“Oh, umm— I’m sorry if I scared you, Mafuyu… It’s just a little cut, see?” Kanade held up the hand she was clenching, highlighting the small red mark over her index finger.
Mafuyu raised her own arm as if to hold the injured hand, but paused halfway, her critical thought reigniting. “I’ll get some bandages, wait here.”
She bolted from the room and returned with a small first-aid kit just as quickly, kneeling in front of Kanade and cracking it open.
Kanade made an attempt at protest, but reflexively extended her hand anyway. “I um, I don’t think it’s that bad, Mafuyu, really. You don’t need to— Ack!” Her prattling was silenced by the sting of disinfectant against her wound, the nauseating scent of alcohol burning at her nostrils.
“Sorry. I won’t be long.” Mafuyu set aside her cotton swab and reached next for a sealed bandage, carefully unwrapping it. “It’s for your own good though, Kanade. You don’t want it to get infected.”
Kanade could only respond with a resigned sigh. Of course, Mafuyu was right as usual… She held still as Mafuyu carefully wrapped the bandage around her finger, quietly immersed in work. The girl reflected in her eyes seemed to remind Kanade of something, and a smile crept onto her face.
“All done.” Mafuyu raised her head to meet Kanade’s, her hand rested on her own. “Kanade? Is something the matter?”
“Hmm? Oh! N-no, I’m fine. It’s just that… You look happy, Mafuyu.
“Do I?” She lowered her head back to their hands and gently stroked her thumb across Kanade’s palm. “My chest has felt sort of light and ticklish lately… I guess it isn’t a bad feeling.”
“I’m glad. Sorry for not playing so well though… And for getting myself hurt…”
“You were good. I really enjoyed hearing you play.”
That’s right. It hardly mattered that her performance was interrupted. Even that short moment of bliss left Mafuyu’s heart aflutter. She even got a chance to care for Kanade, to feel her…
Mafuyu drew little imperfect circles with her thumb in the back of Kanade’s hand. It was so small, cradled in her own, riddled with so many stories. Pale, soft—if a little bony—but speckled with a rough patch; Mafuyu recalled it from the time Kanade burnt herself while learning to cook.
Its natural resting position was awkward, far from healthy, a result of her shut-in, workaholic behavior; she really needed to teach Kanade some wrist exercises. Right now though, all Mafuyu desired was to cling to its unfaltering warmth for a little bit longer, to grow even closer with her love, her Kanade.
A small part of her wished for the freshly tended-to cut never to heal, to stand as an eternal recording of this evening they shared together, just the two of them in their own beautiful world free from strife, if only briefly. Of course, that was impossible, it probably wouldn’t be recognizable within a week at most, but she dreamed of it nonetheless, a simple, naive, precious desire from a young girl.
She gripped Kanade’s hand, interlocked their fingers firmly but gently, silently begging for this not to end. Please. Please. Please.
“M-Mafuyu? Is there something wrong with my hand?”
“Oh. No, it should be fine. I just…” Mafuyu hurriedly pulled her hand away and averted her eyes from Kanade’s now bright red face, her own cheeks mirroring some of that same color. “Maybe we should get to bed, it’s pretty late anyway.”
A suffocating pause, as if Mafuyu was being sucked into the frigid, empty vacuum of space. A mistake. A disappointment. Just another screwup. Kanade would surely be uncomfortable, upset with her for overstepping.
Please. Please don’t hate me. Please please please love me.
And then she felt the warmth of that small, pale, beautiful hand on her shoulder. She was hardly given the chance to doubt her own intentions, all evaporating in an instant. It told her she was okay, that she hadn’t wronged, that she wouldn’t be persecuted, and had nothing to worry about. She was safe here.
“Umm, if you don’t mind, Mafuyu… Can I suggest something?”
Anything. I’ll do anything for you.
Mafuyu awoke to the earliest vestiges of sunlight peaking through her curtain. It seared itself into her eyes as they struggled to adjust and scanned over the scarcely furnished, makeshift guest room she had been calling a home.
Her half-finished homework and laptop sat on the low table exactly as she left them. Her spare clothes were neatly folded and hung up on the rack against the far wall. Nothing was out of the ordinary, and yet… she couldn’t see any of it without craning her neck over the strange lump under the covers that obstructed her view.
She gingerly lifted the covers with one hand, unsure of what to expect with her groggy brain still operating on half power… only to find a small girl soundly sleeping, cradled snugly in her other arm.
Kanade.
Mafuyu slumped back onto her pillow as her mental faculties started coming online, quickly filing through her memory for the relevant information.
She recalled the past evening, when Kanade awkwardly suggested some kind of sleepover and, childish as Mafuyu knew it was, she felt unable to refuse. Apparently her bed was much too cluttered with sheet music and empty boxes she had yet to clean up—something that was obviously a lie; it was about as messy as usual.
Regardless though, did Kanade… recognize something in her? Why else would she pose such a bizarre idea? Mafuyu couldn’t quite wrap her head around so many thoughts this early in the morning, nor did she especially care. Right now, she simply wanted to savor this moment, this precious instant with her love.
Mafuyu brought a hand to Kanade’s face and gently stroked a stray lock of hair to rest behind her ear. She looked so innocent in her slumber, pale complexion and silky, silvery hair giving her the appearance of a beautiful porcelain doll cut free from its strings. Then, she just stared through the girl before her.
How she wished she could wake up to this sight every day… To cook and compose and sing and hold. To listen to her perfect voice, to scold her over her diet and exercise, to run errands and go to restaurants and after parties together. To give every last ounce of her naive, desperate, childish love.
She protectively pulled Kanade closer like a kid clutching a plush toy, taking care not to wake her, both of them bathed in the sun’s warm light. She felt Kanade’s slow, rhythmic heartbeat against her chest, perfectly harmonized with her breathing. Even in her sleep, Kanade continued to grace Mafuyu with her sound, filled with so much more warmth than any song they had ever composed together.
Mafuyu closed her eyes, “ Just a little longer,” she thought. Just a little more time with her world. With her savior. With her guardian angel.
With my love.
Eventually, Mafuyu managed to fight off the urge to remain there forever; she had errands to take care of today, anyway. She crept over Kanade with utmost care and let the cool sensation of her bare feet against the floor shake off the remnants of drowsiness, throwing on a cardigan and making for the kitchen.
She busily worked away at the countertop, preparing a light breakfast for the two of them and pondering the day ahead of her. What would she make for dinner? Mochizuki-san lent them a cookbook recently, perhaps she could find something interesting in there? Something nutritious was a given for Kanade if she wanted any hope of offsetting her instant noodle addiction…
And maybe she could think of a way to give back tonight, like trying her own hand at guitar or singing along to Kanade’s playing. Mafuyu’s eyes, always deeper and murkier than any ocean, glimmered with the vigor of life for what seemed like the first time in her life.
Her train of thought was interrupted by an exhausted sounding groan from the hallway, soon accompanied by Kanade poking her head through the doorframe, eyes still half-lidded.
“G’morning…” She murmured, plopping herself into the nearest chair and resting her chin onto the table.
“Good morning, Kanade.” Mafuyu rather loudly planted a wonderfully decorated plate of food in front of Kanade’s face, shocking her into adjusting her posture to something only slightly less awful. “Your timing is good, I just finished preparing breakfast.”
“A-Ah, thank you, Mafuyu. It looks great,” she replied, still fighting the urge to drift back off.
While Kanade performed her usual meal routine, Mafuyu readied her own plate and took her seat across the table.
She hadn’t even seen Kanade take her first bite before something came over her. Her lips moved on their own, and she spoke as matter-of-factly as if she was reading off the morning newspaper. “Kanade. I think I might be in love with you.”
“Blegh— U-Um— I— Ack!” Kanade nearly choked on the first bite, coughing and failing to sputter out a coherent string of words in response to Mafuyu’s utterly absurd declaration.
Mafuyu looked on with a hint of confusion, “Why is your face so red?”
Yoisaki Kanade, on the other hand, may be too acutely aware of her own love.