Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sometimes, Akane didn’t think she’d get to 24. 

It isn’t a pervasive, running thought in her head. At best it comes in slowly, at random, during times of complete stillness. A rarity in Akane’s life, to let something prod at her for more than a minute. Still, it has its purpose. A small reminder, if nothing else. Life simply isn’t as unpredictable as it used to be. 

Her apartment looks over the Tokyo skyline with ease, and sometimes, when the night is just right, Akane lets herself stand there for a moment and simply be. She wouldn’t have been able to do this before, the reminder came again. Maybe on rooftops or fences or anything particularly high above the alleys she used to scavenge. She’d only do that before to scan the area for home. She hadn’t looked to look. 

Weird, that. She takes a bite of the apple she’d been slowly gnawing at during the hour, and heads inside. Her apartment was small (it didn’t need to be bigger) with trophies and medals adorning the walls. Akane wouldn’t have otherwise cared to put them up, but her siblings had insisted years ago, and so they stayed. In the middle of all of the awards sat a hefty Olympic gold medal.

It’d helped her some. Not all. Some. The waitress uniform that hung in her closet was proof that she still had to work. And while fancy scholarships and medals were enough to keep her afloat, everyone had to be a cog eventually. At least the restaurant wasn’t like the dive she used to serve at. Even then, it’s times like these that she thinks to herself:

Am I happy?

It’s a stranger thought than the one about her age, and one she doesn’t need to pay much mind to. Akane yawns, stretches, and feels the fatigue of her work day falling upon her in waves. If it weren’t for the screeching notification of her phone on the kitchen counter, then she would have dropped to the carpet by now. She shuffles tiredly to her phone, which is cheap and simple and does the job, and answers it without looking at who it is. 

“Yeah?” Akane says into the receiver. 

“Owari-san! Hello, it’s been so long!” 

Akane nearly throws the phone back because of the voice on the other end. It’s an energetic, feminine voice, and one she can’t easily replace. “Oh. Hey, Nevermind!”

“Hello!” Sonia Nevermind, former classmate and princess, says again, excitedly.

“Hey,” Akane responds, “Why’re you calling me?”

“Well, I suppose I’ve been calling everyone. I’m amazed you all still have the same numbers. But yes, why am I calling you?” Sonia hums, “I’ll be on vacation soon to Japan, and I suppose I’m here to give you an invitation. To a luncheon.”

She insinuated the last word as if it were supposed to mean something. Akane asks, “Oh, like you’re getting together with the old gang?”

“Something like that! Can you come? I’d love to see you!”

Akane can say with confidence that she hadn’t remained friends with 77-b as much as the others had. There isn’t much to comment about when you’ve graduated high school, gotten jobs, and moved on with your lives. A cute cat here, a funny image there. The last message was Mahiru scolding Kazuichi for sending a text meant for his boss into the group chat, and that had been nearly a year ago. 

And even before, during her school years, she can’t say she was particularly close to a lot of them. In the past, maybe Akane would have said yes immediately to Sonia’s request. A luncheon implies free food. Free food meant a full stomach with about 80% less effort on her part. Still, with her life now, busy as it was, did she have time for that? 

“I dunno if I can come,” Akane finally answers her. On the other end of the line, she could have sworn she heard Sonia droop slightly.

“Oh, I see. That’s quite alright, Owari-san. I understand things are busy with your gymnastics. But if you ever decide to come along, I’d be so pleased.”

Akane’s eyes scan over the few photos she kept around below the medals on a small table. Not many compared to the few other apartments she’d visited over the years, but ones that were supposed to matter. She picks up the largest photo, one of her posing with her siblings at a park, each of them young enough to stand below her shoulders. Neither of her stepmoms were in any pictures. 

One particular picture was one her little sister Ume insisted she keep up next to the others. It’s smaller, a 4 x 4 portrait frame of her at the age of 22 in a sparkling maroon leotard with the gold medal hung around her neck. Beside her in a proud side hug is Nekomaru. Akane’s hands are full of flowers, so many that she, at the time, didn’t know what to do with them. As they are, frozen in time, the two of them look happy.

“Is everyone coming?” Akane feels herself saying before she can stop herself.

“I’m hoping so, yes. All of the calls and invitations I’ve sent out. There should be a full house, so to speak. Does that mean you’re considering?” Sonia asks, voice brimming with hope.

Akane tears her gaze away from the photo. She thinks for a moment, as the city brightens in the beginning of the night.

“I’ll think about it,” Akane says.

…

Ultimately, Akane decides to go. Her siblings are being taken care of, she had the day off work, and it couldn’t hurt to take a break, she’d thought. When she arrives on a Saturday in fall, Sonia is the first person she sees, practically leaping from the patio table to pull her in with the others. The princess is glowing, her hair still coiled and long down her back in a braid, and her eyes excited as she talks Akane’s ear off to the table.

“Oh, I have so much to tell you! Tell you all, really! Where do I even start?” Sonia says.

Turns out some people couldn’t make it. The ones remaining at the table were people Akane wouldn’t say she had found herself talking to much at all back then. Mahiru and Hiyoko sit with their arms intertwined. They stayed in close contact, at least. Others, such as Teruteru, Mikan, and Ibuki, wave at Akane as she enters. Kazuichi is currently deep in a heated conversation with Hiyoko.

“I’m telling you, she is real! How is this surprising to you people?!” Kazuichi wails, his cry cut short by Akane’s entrance, “Oh. Hey, Owari.”

“Hey,” Akane says, “Who’s real?”

“His girlfriend,” Hiyoko adds. Over the years, her impish grin had mellowed into a graceful, closed smile, one that exuded all the tact she lacked in high school. 

Akane only looks at Kazuichi, who she realizes is wearing glasses. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend. Good goin’!”

“Don’t encourage him, Akane-chan,” Mahiru says with a playful roll of her eyes.

Kazuichi pleads, “I swear, I’m telling the truth this time! I have pictures. Really, tons of them.”

“Then let’s see her!” Teruteru says.

Embarrassed, Kazuichi pulls out his phone, types for a moment, and shows a picture to the rest of them. A plain, but pretty girl in glasses stands with a socket wrench next to Kazuichi. Nagito is the only one of the others who frowns at the sight. 

“Oh, Ibuki likes!”

She’s like a cuter version of Souda,” Hiyoko laughs.

Kazuichi huffs, “Gee, thanks.”

“How’d you guys meet?” Mahiru asks.

“At a convention, actually. It’s a really cute story! I saw her first staring at the muffler of this old mustang by herself, so I asked her…”

As it did in high school, Kazuichi’s rambling starts, then fizzles into nothing in the depths of Akane’s mind. This used to happen a lot more back then. Even if she was scolded for it, she could never seem to stop. On the glass table in front of her are delectable little desserts thoughtfully picked by Sonia: tiny macaroons and cakes and the faintest dollops of strawberry ice cream. Akane busies herself with it while her classmates talk. 

Teruteru mentions his mom, something about group therapy. Akane takes a bite of a tiramisu. Mahiru and Hiyoko announce that they’re an item. Akane gulps down a milkshake. Ibuki mentions her new band, partnered with someone who went to Hope’s Peak with them… Le…Le something. Mikan talks about moving to the UK for an elite nursing program. And Akane wonders why she even came. 

It’s not like she dislikes this. No, they’re friends. Old friends. People she talked to when she was a teenager. Most of which she hasn’t seen in years. Akane also hasn’t eaten like this in a while, either. She supposes that to the others, she looks like the same old Akane. Like she hasn’t changed at all. Maybe that’s a comforting thought to them.

In the corner of her eye, she spots Sonia, standing off to the side with a tray of more macaroons. She hasn’t sat down once or talked much at all. Akane wonders why she’s even noticed this, but she supposes Sonia does like to talk. Their eyes meet, and Sonia’s wistful, blue eyes spark - as if lit alight by a firecracker - and she smiles at Akane in a way that unsettles her. There’s a flare inside her gut. 

Sonia doesn’t look happy. 

Maybe it’s the slight disturbance, or her disinterest in the table and its conversations, but Akane gets up and walks over to her.

“Hey, this is a real nice place,” she says.

“Thank you, Owari-san. It was hard to book it, but with just the right day, I managed to! You see, it’s quite difficult to reserve locations overseas...” Sonia realizes she’s rambling, shuts her mouth, and smiles again. “But oh, you ate so much! You’ve got a little…right there.”

Sonia delicately points at Akane’s chin. There must be a bit of frosting there. 

“Oh, whoops,” Akane grins, and wipes at it.

“It’s not coming off. Here, why don’t we go somewhere we can clean it?”

“We?”

Somehow, she ended up in the nearest bathroom with Sonia, as the princess rubbed at Akane’s face with a fancy towel. The bathroom, much like the rest of the place, was decked with fancy plating and shiny white floors. Plants sat in clumps in vases on the sinks. Fitting for Sonia. Not so much for Akane.

Sonia smiles suddenly, another sad one, as she places the towel down. 

“It’s a comforting thought to know that you haven’t changed, Owari-san,” Sonia says, confirming Akane’s suspicions, “Do… Do you mind if I be a little candid with you? Friend to friend?”

Akane isn’t sure she can call Sonia a friend. She barely talked to her at all in high school. She barely knows her now.

“Sure,” Akane says anyway, because what else do you say to that?

“You might have noticed that a few of our friends couldn’t make it. Most of which is understandable. Who am I to stop our old friends and demand they come and see me? That would be… That is not fair. Is it not?” Sonia asks. Akane doesn’t answer.

The princess doesn’t speak for a short moment, but she seems nervous. Akane doesn’t know why.

“Mitarai-san. I tried calling him, but I’m not sure if he bought a new phone or moved somewhere else. Kuzuryu-san and Pekoyama-san’s absences are understandable, given their entire situation. Gundham…” Sonia takes a deep breath, “Gundham said he wished he could come, if not for his profession. It’s quite serious.”

Akane tries remembering where Gundham is now. Someone at the table mentioned polar bears. Something, something Arctic. She does know one thing. Sonia and he dated for a while before and after graduation. As disinterested as she is in gossip, Akane wonders if the two of them are still a two-package deal. By the far-off distant look in Sonia’s eyes, probably not.

“But Chiaki…” Sonia shakes her head, as if trying to convince herself of something, “She, I was surprised by. Akane, have you heard anything about her? From her?”

“Nanami? Nah.” Another person Akane didn’t know well. One Nekomaru knew a lot better, despite his admitted distaste for video games. For all she knew, the two of them were still friends.

“I see,” says Sonia, “That’s that then. I just hope I can see her sometime on this trip.”

“Yeah, hopefully.” 

“The trip is to last a week. I’ve planned several trysts and destinations for myself. Non-refundable, of course. It would be a longer vacation, but duty tends to call when you least expect it,” Sonia laughs pleasantly, but Akane finds she wants to go back to the table again.

“Yeah,” Akane says, “Hey, good luck with that. And thanks… for the towel thing.”

“Oh, it is not a problem at-”

A loud noise startles both of them, a loud noise that Akane knows better than she knows most things. She quickly stifles the muted ball of nervousness that settles in her chest and leaves Sonia there with the towel in the fancy bathroom. 

Akane finds him laughing loudly with Kazuichi about something she has no context to. In the last five months she’s seen Nekomaru, she finds he looks the exact same, if not slightly different. Little details, but she couldn’t let all that time spent with him go to waste. A new, navy blue jacket, his longer, but still spiky hair. He’s shaved recently, but not too much.

“I hope you all believed him!” Nekomaru booms, his voice as intimidatingly loud as it always seems to be, “You did, didn’t you?”

Some others nod, some don’t. Nagito doesn’t show a single sign that he heard a thing.

“That’s a real shame. I expected more from all of you! Souda’s put a lot of work into his self-improvement.”

“Alright dude, cool it with the compliments, okay?!” Kazuichi whispers, embarrassed. 

Akane uses this opportunity to walk up casually, even if her arms feel tired and she weirdly doesn’t want to talk. She ribs him on the side while he’s distracted, and grins.

“Hey, old man. Long time no see.”

“OWARI!” he laughs, and crushes her into a quick side hug. She guesses it was stupid of her to feel nervous, after all.

…

Conversations bleed into new conversations, and eventually the sun rests in the middle of the sky, slightly bent toward the west. Others take their leave, all with smiles and thanks and “talk to you soons,” but Akane finds herself cleaning up the venue with Nekomaru, Mikan, Nagito, and Kazuichi. She knows Mahiru had insisted to stay behind and clean the inside with Sonia, bringing Hiyoko with her. Everyone else is gone.

She wonders that wherever Chisa is now, be it with her husband, on vacation, or even at the grocery store, she knows Akane’s contributing. Maybe in small ways, but ways nonetheless. 

“How are things with your athletes, Nidai-kun?” she hears Nagito ask cheerfully from one side at the venue. Akane realizes she hasn’t seen Sonia in a while.

“THEY’RE GREAT!” Nekomaru grins, “In actuality, they’re still just high schoolers. But they’ve got a lot of potential!”

Kazuichi groans, “Don’t tell me it’s still those soccer players.”

“Of course. Don’t you remember me telling you that? Pay attention!” Nekomaru says.

“I am! I do! They’re just assholes, man!” 

Akane hears Mikan giggle. She doesn’t stop herself from doing so this time around. Nekomaru pauses sweeping to glance at his stopwatch. Because of whatever that’s on it, he leaves the broom by one of the tables, and glances frantically around the venue.

“I’m sorry, everyone, I didn’t realize-” He stands up straighter, “I have to leave for an appointment. I was a fool and didn’t think I could miss it. Where’s Nevermind? I need to thank her for the invite.”

“Oh shit,” Kazuichi says, sharing a glance with Mikan, “Yeah, I don’t know, man. Try looking inside the building.”

“WILL DO! It’s been nice to see you all!” Nekomaru gives a small finger salute before sauntering off toward the building. The group is left behind as Akane follows him briskly to the doors.

“Wait, wait,” she says, grabbing at his arm, “Why’re you going so soon? I thought we’d, I dunno, hang out or something. Maybe I could fight ya like old times, or-”

“I told you, I have an appointment. I’m sorry, Owari,” Nekomaru tells her. The start of an exasperated grin etches across his face. “But you know, I’m always a phone call away! I always have time for a former athlete.”

Akane doesn’t respond at first, her mouth dumbly open. Ultimately, she murmurs a small “okay” and watches as he disappears through the ivy archway and into the building. All of his loudness is dragged in with him. They’re in the backyard segment of the venue. He probably won’t come back out.

She’s not sure what else she expected, given the busyness, the chaos, whatever that appointment was. She supposes she can see him some other time, and he told her that, so Akane goes back to washing the table. She tries to ignore the persistent, anxious feeling that she thought had died. No, it’s back. It’s worse. She wants to shove something down her throat. The sponge under her hands squeezes itself free of water. Akane lets go of it and simply stands there.

Then the others talk.

“He’s been going to them more and more lately, it seems,” Mikan speaks up.

“Yeah,” Kazuichi says, “Like he tells me everything’s fine, and I believe him and all, but I dunno man. Sometimes it feels…”

“I’m sure he is fine, Souda-kun. He’s a strong person,” Nagito smiles.

“Well, of course you’d say that shit.”

Nagito only tilts his head. Akane can’t help herself.

“What’re you talkin’ about?”

All three heads turn back toward her. The air seems stiffer now. She holds her breath. What did she do this time? 

“What’s the deal with the appointments?” she asks again. 

No one immediately answers her. 

“Owari-san, I’m sorry, um...” Mikan looks unwell by awkwardness. “But… do you not know?”

“Know what?”

Kazuichi’s groan of disappointment upsets Akane in a way not much else does nowadays. She feels antsy. More nervous than she’s been all day. She grinds her teeth, awaiting an answer.

“Well… about his heart condition.” Mikan’s words die in her throat. Akane stares at her like she’s crazy.

“His what?”

“You really didn’t know?” Kazuichi asks.

“No?” Akane says. Her breath feels cold inside her mouth.

“Goddamnit, Owari,” Kazuichi sighs, “I mean, you’ve known him for how long, went to the fucking Olympics with him, and you still had no idea he was sick?”

Akane has no rebuttal. She didn’t know. She truly didn’t. Where were the signs if he didn’t say anything? 

Nagito still smiles, deep in thought. “Let’s give Owari-san the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps Nidai-kun didn’t want to burden her with the knowledge, especially since he used to train her.”

“I doubt that, since almost everyone knows except for her,” says Kazuichi. 

“Everyone…! Everyone knows?” Akane feels her voice rise before she shuts it away. She clamps her teeth against her tongue, biting it, and allowing the sting.

The other three glance at each other, back at her, then back at each other again. 

“It’s okay, Owari-san.” Mikan tries her best to comfort her.

“No, it’s messed up,” Kazuichi says, wiping at his glasses, “I mean, how does that even happen?”

Noticing her twisted expression, he stops, then glances at the venue. It’s clean, save for a small spot on the window near a strand of cascading ivy. Kazuichi clears his throat and walks to it.

“Guess I'd better get this one.”

…

Akane doesn’t go home. She stays until the others leave and the signs of the reunion are soon nowhere to be found. No desserts, or charcuterie boards, or anything pleasing to the eye. Akane wants to binge again. Instead, she sits on the steps and drags her finger across the pavement until she hears footsteps behind her. Small, dainty footsteps.

“Owari-san! You’re still here,” Sonia says, hesitant. 

Akane looks up at her. The princess is adorned with the same jewelry she’d been wearing hours before, save for one of her bracelets and a pin in her hair. It flows more freely now, as she waits there for Akane to answer her. She doesn’t.

“May I sit?” she asks. 

“Sure.”

Sonia sits. Something about her, the way she moves, always reminded Akane of the ladies on TV - the elegant ones with shiny hair. The ones Akane, as a growing pre-teen, knew she wasn’t. She smiles at Akane as the sunset gleams against her blonde head. Their feet rest peacefully on the steps. Akane realizes that she doesn’t know Sonia as well as she probably should. 

But she finds that now - right now - she decides that she trusts her. Akane speaks.

“Did you know about Nidai’s heart thing?”

“His heart condition?” Sonia asks, smile falling, “Yes, I do know about that. It’s very unfortunate.”

“What…What do you know about it?”

“Not much, I’m afraid,” Sonia pauses, “Were…you not made aware?”

“No.”

“I see. I am very sorry. That must be very shocking news, then. However, I must say he’s doing quite well despite what the doctors predicted,” she smiles.

That gets Akane’s own heart to quicken. “What does that mean?”

Sonia is stricken, and Akane realizes that perhaps she shouldn’t ask Sonia this. The uglier, weaker part of her demands that she does. She waits.

“If I remember correctly, they said his life expectancy was 20 years old-”

“20?! He’s 24 now!” 

“I know, Owari-san, but-”

“No, I…! I can’t believe I-” Akane inhales quickly, her thoughts a mile a minute, “I’m so stupid. I’m so…”

Her head falls into her hands, and the only sound out of her is a muted groan of panic, embarrassment, or shame. All of the above maybe. Have a fucking free-for-all. 

“Please don’t say that about yourself,” Sonia says gently. 

Around them, the October winds have barely picked up a few leaves as they twirl in the walkway in front of them. Akane feels the warmth of her hand rest upon her back, and at the touch, she flinches and straightens her back. Sonia’s voice wavers with guilt at once.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I-”

“It’s okay. It’s just a thing I have. You’re…Fine,” Akane says, “But it’s true, about the other stuff. Now I have to do something about it.”

Sonia blinks at her, pink-cheeked as her hand retracts to her side. “What would that be?”

“I dunno, but … something. Instead of just doin’ what I normally do. He’s done so much for me. I hafta at least try.”

“Hm,” Sonia’s voice is thoughtful, “I could help you, if you’d like.”

“Help me?”

Sonia nods, eyes glittering enthusiastically, “This sort of thing calls for an event, does it not? Think about it, Owari-san. We have all the pieces here for a wonderfully original romantic scenario! I would love to help you confess how you feel.”

“Huh?” Akane asks, “What’re you talkin’ about?”

At once, Sonia’s face turns even pinker. “Only if you’re comfortable! I don’t want to be presumptuous. Not like I have before. No, no, it’s different now. Much different. But I still want to provide any assistance I can to you. You are my dear friend, after all.”

“Thanks,” Akane feels her voice leave her, but her mind is still buzzing from what she said.

The princess curls her fingers into her blonde hair, pulling slightly at the braid as it comes undone. She asks, “Will you at least think about it? Please let me know if you would like any advice. I’d be happy to give it. Or anything at all. Say the word.”

Akane nods. It’s the only thing she can manage. Sonia doesn’t seem to mind either way, and the two of them watch as the last of the sun drips gold over the city’s skyline. Sonia’s expression, a contemplative thing, never shifts until the last of the light has left the sky.

…

Akane has never hated just how quiet her apartment is more than right now. Unlike her old neighborhood, the one she resides in now is safe, tucked in the nicer parts of Tokyo. Free from the mold, and dogs, and people who used to hurt her. The floors are plush. The walls are smooth and free of holes, or cracks. The AC works. She should be grateful. 

But Akane still hates it. 

A building scream leaves her throat as she slams her fist into the door, closing it behind her. She’ll get a complaint tomorrow, she’s sure of it. The brief sound of her fury dies and she’s stuck in the vacancy once again. Akane moves on. 

She drags her feet until she gets to her fridge, slams it, opens it, and slams it again. 

I haven’t starved in years, is the thought Akane forces herself to repeat. I haven’t starved in years. I haven’t.

She leaves the fridge closed and backs away until her spine hits the cold tile of the countertop. Akane gasps, grabs a glass, and throws it hard at the opposite wall when it hits something-

The Olympic medal clatters off the wall and onto the carpet with the shattered bits of glass. The medal sits there expectantly, glinting there against the cheap yellow lights beaming down below it. Akane creeps up to it as if it would hurt her. She steps over the shards as her fingers carefully drag across its sheen before she picks it up.

It’s heavy in her hands. When she first held it, it felt heavier. Her fingers had been slightly bruised from the bar routine, but she wore a smile on the podium as the lights flashed and she thought of her siblings at home cheering for her on the old TV. It’s when she saw Nekomaru some yards away, looking the proudest he’d ever looked at her, that she remembered thinking that maybe gymnastics wasn’t so boring after all.

He was past the age of 20 then. In a foreign country at a high-profile event thousands of miles from his hometown, from his parents, his friends. If she knew what he was dealing with, at least a fraction of it, would she have done something? Could she have? Akane tries to think of herself, a recent graduate with misguided optimism. Calmer than high school, but not by much. She tries to recall something. Any sign. A gut feeling, even. Any minuscule clue that something was wrong. 

She can’t think of a single memory. But there had to be at least something. Didn’t there?

Akane slides from the wall to the floor, taking the medal with her. She sits there idly. All of this is much too quiet and her head is much too loud. It’s a few minutes into this shame-filled haze that the buzz of her forgotten phone shows itself in her pocket. On the screen is a single message from Nekomaru. She has no profile photo for him, nor does she for anyone.

“HEY!! It was really nice seeing you today. I’m sorry I left abruptly. If you ever want to do something, then let’s do something!”

Akane feels the heat behind her eyes before she blinks it away, squeezing her eyes shut and letting the medal fall beside her. Her breath is rocky, unstable. Years of living in a safer environment, eating more and starving less, winning and altogether being wholly better, and Akane still despises just how weak she is. How weak she continues to be. 

She doesn’t want to admit it, but maybe Sonia was right. 

Her fingers are tight around her open phone. Without thinking, she scrolls past his message, goes to contacts, and clicks on one. It dials. Dials. The electronic hum nearly seeps into her brain. She waits until the end of the line opens when she hears Sonia exclaim:

“Owari-san? What a surprise!” 

“Hey.”

There’s a pause on the other line. Sonia asks, “Is everything alright?”

What surprises Akane more than Sonia is how fast her own voice comes. It tumbles out of her, rushing with panic, and all Akane can say is:

“I think I need your help.”

Chapter Text

When Sonia offers lunch, Akane can’t in good conscience turn her down. She’d been busy all morning shopping in the more mediocre part of town, and ran a few miles before that to clear her head. Still, it doesn’t help. Akane’s brain is fuzzy from a lack of sleep. That doesn’t stop her head from remaining ever-so-faithfully on a swivel. Better safe than sorry, especially with the lil ones around.

Speaking of which, where are they?

Akane peeks behind. Miki and Mirai, the youngest of her family at 11, are preoccupied with arguing about two different types of snacks. Their pale blonde hair stands out against Akane’s. It’s no wonder they’re not actually blood-related.

“The chips are better!” Miki whisper-yells.

“No, dumbass. It’s the-” Mirai’s remark is cut off by a soft wop to the head by Akane, as she stands crossly above them.

“Knock that kinda talk off,” Akane says to them. “What did I say about calling your sister things like that? What’s the rule I taught you?”

“I’m not five anymore. Akane-”

“Say it.”

“Don’t argue over stupid stuff. What we have is just enough,” Mirai recites quickly, blushing furiously from the childish rhyme, “But Akane! She got the potato chips twice in a row! And because we only get one-“

“Then why don’t you ask her nicely instead of being so dramatic?” Akane rubs his hair, pushing him forward to his sister. Miki’s doing that thing where she pretends not to be pleased she isn't in trouble. She blinks at Mirai.

“Can we just please get the rice crackers instead this time? I’ll pay you back next time, I swear.” Mirai asks.

“Okay.”

They turn toward Akane respectively. She nods and grabs some oil from a shelf, “Good. I’m sure Nevermind would like how polite you guys are.” 

 “Is that your princess friend?” Miki asks excitedly.

“She’s from high school, yeah. You two better be on your best behavior if she decides to-“ Akane stops when she feels her phone buzz. She picks it up, “Nevermind? Is that you?”

“What? No, it’s me.”

“Oh. Sorry, Satoshi,” Akane blinks. The eldest of her siblings remains as deadpan as ever. She can picture him now with a list of groceries intertwined in his fingers. “What else do you guys need?”

“Nothing else besides the toothpaste. And make sure it’s the cheapest one, please.”

“I already got that.”

“Right,” Satoshi pauses, “And Akane…”

She listens for something. Her brother takes a moment.

“They’re not home, so don’t worry.” 

“Oh,” Akane breathes, and a breath she didn’t realize she was holding flies loose, “Okay.”

The rest of her shopping trip goes by quickly. The twins help her as best as they can manage. Miki especially likes to be helpful. Must be a phase, learned from her mom. Akane just hopes she won’t help too much in the future. 

They walk the shorter route back to the house, past some revitalizing businesses, to the district they call their neighborhood; the place Akane used to call home. It’s been years, and Akane still feels a coldness curl inside of her chest every time she visits. She can’t help it. It’s always been this way. Back then, all she had was her gut feeling. But she has something now she didn’t have before: reflection. She just hadn’t had the time to think on it before. It’s different now.

Where they live now is a nicer part of the neighborhood than where Akane grew up, but it doesn’t matter. She keeps Miki and Mirai close to her as they walk. Eventually, the three of them reach the steps of the property Akane bought years ago. It’s a small house, with crooked windows and brown, stained wood paneling, but it’s stable. It’s kept a roof over the lil ones' heads for some time now. Them, and their mothers. Sure, it doesn’t have many bedrooms, and it seems every month it has a leak, but Akane’s never really been one to fix things that are broken. Sooner or later, these problems seem to disappear.

She glances at the clock by the time she reaches the dingy kitchen. 3:30. She still has time to meet with Sonia. She won’t be late. As she gets to work putting things away, both of the twins have scurried away to watch TV with their snacks, and she’s too focused to call out to anyone else. The house is still. Like Satoshi said, neither of her stepmoms are home.

Makes it all a lot easier. 

“You don’t have to put everything up. I know you’re busy,” she hears Satoshi say before she sees him. She looks back from the open fridge.

“Hey, Satoshi.”

“Really, you can just go if you’re running late for - the thing. Wherever you had to go,” he adds. Satoshi is 17 now, in his third year, with brown skin and sharp eyes. She’s starting to see what people say that Satoshi and her look the most alike. Sometimes Akane feels like she blinks, and suddenly they’re all so much older. No longer are they the small fragile things she used to protect.

She tells herself they’re safer, even if she’s away. But even then, when has Akane ever been a bastion of safety? When she didn’t even know her best friend was on limited time? How can she-

“Akane?”

“Oh,” Akane blinks, then grins, “It’ll be quick. You worry too much, Satoshi.”

“Akane’s home? Hey!” Ume, the second oldest after Satoshi, bounds into the room with a small box in her hands. Behind her is Haruo, scratching under his hat. He waves at Akane, grabs a drink from the open fridge, and sits down at the kitchen table. After him, proddles in Juno, who’s into cutting her hair short nowadays. Satoshi is already putting half of the items away.

“What’s that you got?” Akane asks Ume.

“We’re supposed to make a collage in my art class. So I thought, hey, I had that digital camera for a while! Look how old these are.”

Akane laughs. They are old. She’s a teenager in half of these. Her hair is still just as wild, but her shirt is much more unbuttoned. This must be before Chisa took her clothes shopping one day after school. What a sight she was. Her siblings even more so. In one picture, all six of them and Akane pose in front of a fountain. Must have been a special occasion. 

“Look at the birthday one,” Haruo supplies from his seat.

Yuna, the last of her siblings, makes her appearance. She’s wearing that creepy necklace she got from the pawn shop last year, the one Akane doesn’t like. She says, “Oh, or the one where Haruo peed his pants.”

“It was water!”

“No, it wasn’t,” laughs Juno.

Akane shakes her head, “Hey, speaking of birthdays. Ume, what’d you wanna do for yours next week?”

“Oh - I dunno. Probably just something casual,” her sister pipes back, before diving into a new pile of surprise photos. 

Thanks to Satoshi, all of the groceries are put away. She doesn’t know what she’d do without him. She glances at the clock again as it sits on the wall. It’s always been a few minutes off. She still has some time. Akane notes internally that she doesn’t like how punctual she’s become. Or how nervous she is now, how her fingers twist against the sides of her jacket, grasping. 

“It’s sad though,” Ume sighs, “I mean, I have all these pictures, but where’s the camera? I’m starting to think I really have lost it.”

“It’s not like it was super expensive,” Haruo says.

“Yeah, but it was a gift. And now I don’t know where it could be…”

“Gift?” Akane asks, “I didn’t give you any cameras.”

Ume shakes her head, “No, you didn’t. But Nidai-kun did. Remember?”

Akane’s mouth opens. She nods and doesn’t say a thing. 

“Oh yeah, I remember that. That was cool of him,” Haruo smiles, “Didn’t you see him recently or something?”

“Yeah.”

“Probably like the first time in months,” Haruo says.

“We still talk,” Akane affirms.

Juno frowns, “Yeah. It’s just been a long time, I guess.”

“He’s busy. I’m busy. You’re busy,” Akane points at the group of teens accusingly, “Dontcha have homework to do? Anyways, I gotta go.”

“Go? But you just got here, Akane.” Ume frowns.

“I gotta meet someone. She’s one of those fancy types. So I can’t be late,” Akane pats Ume as she leaves the room, and gives the others a wave, “Nice pictures, Ume!”

She goes to pick up her shoes at the doorway before she realizes she hadn't kicked them off when she arrived. Of course. Akane goes to open the creaky, old door when-

“Akane.”

She turns around to see Satoshi. His brown eyes are slightly skeptical under his glasses.

“I… Akane, if you were going through something, would you tell me?”

Akane stops at his question. Her ears feel like they’re ringing, and she nearly checks to see if they are. Satoshi’s cheeks are red hot. 

“You don’t have to say anything. But I dunno, I guess I just felt something was up.”

“I’m okay,” Akane smiles. She knows Satoshi doesn’t buy it, “I’m just… thinking about stuff.”

The pause between them echoes. Satoshi tilts his head, studying her slightly. The suspicion in his gaze falters somewhat.  He sounds out a small, “But you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” she repeats.

Satoshi finally nods. He’s satisfied for now. And although she wishes she could stay, there isn’t much time left. Akane leans forward, captures him in a small hug, before opening the front door and leaving the old house behind.

…

“I greatly adore this atmosphere!” Sonia’s animated voice soars briefly above the tinny radio music just for a moment, as Akane gazes down at the remains of her omurice with a stern expression. She splits it the leftover pieces with her fork, watching the contents spill. Numbly, she shoves a warm bite in her mouth as Sonia babbles on about architecture. Eventually, the princess settles. Her excitement over mundanity seems to trickle away for now.

“Do tell me, Owari-san, why this restaurant in particular? I mean, it’s lovely, but what is its meaning for you?” Sonia asks.

Akane hums, “Well, I guess I used to work here. It’s not as crappy as it used to be. Used to get discounts for the lil ones sometimes.”

“Oh, did you? That’s lovely,” Sonia looks down at her own food for a moment, a small parfait, before returning to Akane again. “I never did know how many siblings you have. Was it four?”

“Uh, seven. They’re pretty cool.”

Sonia laughs. It’s a slightly uncomfortable laugh. She settles. “I just think it’s aspirational how you managed to care for that many children growing up. Seven! That’s remarkable!”

“It’s not really a big deal. You’re supposed to do that kinda thing.” And Akane wouldn’t hear otherwise. Not from Nekomaru. Not from anyone. Especially not from Nekomaru, despite how much he’d tell her that back then.

Just thinking about him now is enough to make her slightly bend her fork. It curls under her fingers, held securely in a fist until the metal twists against her skin. Sonia notices. Her eyes widen slightly at the sight. It’s not something Sonia would do. Akane clears her throat. 

“But uh, yeah,” Akane says, “Why are we here again? I mean, the lunch is nice, but…”

“Didn’t you ask for my help?” Sonia asks.

“Right. Yeah.”

If she’s honest with herself, most of last night was a blur. Part of Akane wishes she had never called Sonia to begin with, to stuff down whatever she was thinking and never confront it again. But that couldn’t be her anymore. Not when Nekomaru deserved more than she gave him for years.

“Owari-san, though I am excited to contribute in any way I can to my friends’ happiness, I have to ask…” Sonia says, “Do you truly need my help?”

Akane looks up, confused, “Huh?”

“Well, I know this is a private issue. The two of you have been close for a very long time. I mean, you even went overseas… What was that, two years ago?”

“Yeah.”

“And pardon me for prying, but nothing ever…happened between you two?”

Akane doesn’t understand Sonia’s questions. Or she does, and she doesn’t want to think further into them. 

“Nah, we’re friends,” Akane says. 

“But you do feel something, do you? For him?”

Now’s the part where Akane wants to run away. Her hand grips the seat of the booth. She could break it, feel the stuffing and leather rip and tear.  

“I…” Akane swallows, “I dunno. It’s all confusing. I’m not good at these. These…big feelings.”

“Big feelings,” Sonia parrots back, her voice ushered.

“That’s something you’re better at. I remember. In high school.”

Sonia’s confused expression causes Akane to quickly clarify.

“You dated Tanaka. You know about these kinds of things more.”

“Oh…”

“You also cried a lot.”

Sonia’s mouth opens as if to protest, but she doesn’t.

“So that’s why I-” Akane shakes her head. She says, “I can’t do it on my own. I’ll just screw it up otherwise.”

“Owari-san, do not say that!”

“No, it’s true. It just won’t sound right because I won’t know what to say. I need to make this count.”

She runs her fingers under her lip, contemplating. Her face remains hot with embarrassment as Sonia watches her, dish abandoned, as if everything important is already in front of her. Akane briefly thinks that Novoselic’s citizens might at times feel the same way she does right now: vulnerable, embarrassed, overwhelmed, with attention as focused as Sonia’s on them like a searching light. What a mess this all is.

“May I?” Sonia asks.

Before Akane can squirm away, Sonia takes her hand tightly across the table and gives it a light squeeze. The feeling is odd, foreign to the touch, but acceptable as long as it’s from the front. No one really holds Akane’s hand anymore. 

“We’ll make it count. I’ll do everything in my power to ensure your happiness,” Sonia says, “First, why don’t we ask him what he’s doing tomorrow?”

“Why-”

“You must spend time with him if you intend to confess your feelings. There is so much to do. So much to go over!” Sonia tuts, bringing out a small, black notebook as she begins to transcribe her thoughts. She’s very detailed. Akane’s own handwriting is chicken scratch in comparison. “We must make this a reality!”

“What if that’s not…” Akane attempts, “Not what’s really there? He’s a nice guy, but that doesn’t really mean anything. Right?”

“Oh, surely you’ve seen the signs?”

“Signs?” Akane asks. What signs? 

Sonia only looks more excited. She says, “Think about it, Owari-san. They’re there. All the tropes. The forbidden love. The boundaries he purposely didn’t push or tread as your coach. The tender feelings, never said out loud!”

“Tropes?” Akane frowns, “But-”

Sonia’s very blue eyes glance up and blink in Akane’s direction. Her pen stops in its scroll.

“I just,” Akane starts lamely, “Didn’t you tell me you had all this fun stuff planned for yourself? A whole trip. What about the mountains? Weren’t you gonna go there or something?”

Sonia laughs pleasantly. It’s a bell in her ears. “I’m sure I’ll have time after tomorrow. It’s just one day, Akane. A day in which I’m dedicated to helping my friends sort out their feelings.”

Akane thinks idly that it’d make more sense if Sonia spent time with Chiaki instead. She doesn’t say that, though, and takes another bite.

…

On the way back home, as she dangles her apartment keys in her fingers, Akane thinks back on what Sonia said.

“Why don’t we ask him what he’s doing tomorrow?”

There’s an oppressive nervousness to the entire ordeal. Sonia is helping her, whether she texts Nekomaru or not. It doesn’t matter. So her fingers find his contact and types the quickest message she can manage. Akane hates texting. She hates calling. She wants to be done with this already. 

Akane’s heart thunders once she reaches her apartment. She clenches her phone at the feeling of it. Her breath lurches in her throat when her fingers stop in their typing, and she clicks on his contact before she can stop herself. There’s a faint ring. It goes two times before he picks up. 

“HEY!! Owari!! Long time no talk!!” Even when he’s not on speaker phone, Nekomaru’s voice blasts through any barrier. 

“Hey,” Akane says back to him, “Doin’ anything tomorrow?”

She nearly cringes at the hunch that won’t stop kicking at her, but every word reminds her of Sonia, which reminds Akane of their plan, which reminds her of big feelings. What a mess.

“Oh!” Nekomaru’s doing something on the other side of the line that she can’t even guess—rifling through papers or something. Probably his calendar. He’s always been obnoxious about his calendars. “I’m going to a game for my athlete tomorrow, actually. It’s a big event.”

“Oh-”

“Of course, you’re invited! Sorry, I meant to clarify. I’d love for you to see what I’ve been up to.”

Without realizing, Akane finds herself outside of the balcony, overlooking the city once again. If she does go, as Sonia asked her to do, then what? She thinks of what usually happens when she hangs out with Nekomaru. The predictable outcome is them sparring because she could never leave well enough alone. When he was her manager, he’d give her massages. Sometimes they’d go to restaurants or on jogs together. That’s about it.

What does Sonia expect will happen? Even better, how does Akane expect to get anything out of herself that’s real, or authentic, or anything beyond this cowardly, pent-up fortress she’s kept up for years?

“Owari?”

Akane nearly bites her tongue when she hears him. Stupid! Did she not already answer? Guess she didn’t. Clumsily, Akane murmurs,  “Nidai, I…”

She could say something, she thinks. Right now. Just get it over with. Even if she wasn’t sure exactly what she felt. Even if she hated it. Akane’s tongue hurts from the pressure to speak. Should she? 

Ultimately, she doesn’t. 

“That sounds good. I’ll see you there,” she says instead. 

“PERFECT! 3 PM! Be sharp!!”

They hang up without much issue. Akane wishes she could understand why her head falls against her hand the way it does. There is no relief, and she watches lifelessly as the city roars in the distance. So many of her former classmates live here just as she does. She thinks about their lives here.

Their relationships, their commitments, their careers. The steps they took to get to where they are. Do they go through the day without much to think about? Or do they stand on their balconies too?

Are they happy? 

Akane isn’t even sure if she wants to know.

…

It’s about 2 pm and Sonia is combing Akane’s hair. Something, something about appearances. Looking your best. It reminds Akane of Chisa, back when she’d gently remind Akane to button up her shirt more, or shave her legs. Akane did neither. 

Sonia, however, has genuine reasoning on her side. And Akane, with a stomach full of lead, isn’t necessarily going to argue with her anytime soon.

“How are you feeling, Akane?” Sonia asks her as she pulls a strand of her hair and sprays it with something that smells floral, pinning it squarely in place. 

“Okay, I guess.” Akane squints at herself in the mirror. 

Sonia’s hotel room, like the princess herself, is extravagant. Glass tables and marble counters reflect against the pink-white walls. It’s much nicer than any hotel room Akane’s been in. Even during the Olympics. Sonia treats it like normal. Because this is her normal, Akane reminds herself.

“Nervous? Do you need the ladies room to yourself?”

“Nah, I’m fine,” Akane says, and it’s true. The nerves from last night have dissipated for the most part. If she doesn’t think about it, or what exactly she’ll say, then she can ride the wave for now.

“That’s very good. I don’t want you to be out of your element. You’ll do your very best, and that’s what matters,” Sonia smiles. 

The gesture is comforting. Akane sort of smiles back. In the mirror, Sonia pulls her hair back into a ponytail with a black scrunchie. She peers back at her handiwork with a starry-eyed grin.

“Well, what do you think?”

“It’s…” Tight. Akane wants to say it badly. She only doesn’t because somehow, she’s learned a semblance of restraint over the years. “Great. Thanks.”

“You’re very welcome! Now, let’s see…”

Sonia briskly walks to her closet, pulls out two articles, and comes out. When she holds them to Akane’s face, she can see they’re jackets. One red, and one a crisp blue. They’re nice jackets, similar to the ones she uses on winter morning runs, just scaled up in price. Knowing Sonia, these jackets would cover the entirety of Akane’s biweekly paycheck.

Akane, of course, chooses the red jacket. There’s just something about the color red. When she shuffles it over her tank top, Sonia stands behind her, proud like a mother.

“Oh, you look so beautiful!” she coos.

Beautiful. 

That’s funny. All Akane sees in the mirror is herself. There is nothing beautiful, or special, or even particularly striking. It’s just her in a jacket she wouldn’t be able to afford, strapped with a tight ponytail, and covered in the scent of sweet flowers. It’s a facade that Akane simply isn’t, but she knows Sonia is trying her best.

Akane says, “Thanks. Do I gotta pay you back or what?”

“Not at all. I enjoy buying clothes. Think of it as a gift.”

Akane wrinkles her nose. She’s not used to gifts. What else is she supposed to do but accept? In the mirror, when Akane goes to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, she notices the slight tremor in her hand. She puts it down by her thigh and waits until they’re ready to leave.

…

The sports center is huge. Instantly, the sight of it as it towers over the two women reminds Akane of the Olympics. It’s just not as big as the Olympics stadium. Still big, just-

“Now when you go inside, I want you to place this inside your ear,” Sonia’s voice interrupts her train of thought, as the princess places a small, black piece of technology inside Akane’s open palm. “This is a Bluetooth speaker. We’ll be on call the entire time. If anything goes wrong, I shall rectify the problem posthaste. But you must not talk to me. Do you understand?”

Akane’s never been good with technology. She decides it’s easier to nod along if she wants this to work. Obediently, Akane places the piece into her ear. It’s slightly uncomfortable, but she soon forgets about it.

“I’ll be coaching you along the way. Not unlike Nidai-san that way,” Sonia laughs, amusing even herself. Her eyes grow intense when she says, “Then when the timing is right, you will have your chance to say what you feel.”

“Okay,” Akane says. She starts to think, however, that it may be hard to have a tender conversation, any talk of big feelings or otherwise, when she’s at a sports game. When everything is loud and chaotic, and Nekomaru’s athletes are on the field. She almost wants to say something, but Sonia’s already walking her toward the entrance. But Akane’s not good at thinking anyway.

“I’ll be outside! Near the entrance. Try not to worry!”

“I’m not-” And Sonia is already gone. Akane goes through the doors. The venue is seemingly larger on the inside, with large windows and busy floors. It doesn’t take her long to find the grassy field outside. It extends for yards and yards beyond what Akane can see. No one’s on the field, as the game must be about to start. The light wind is cool on her legs as she searches for him. Her arms are covered by the jacket. Sonia must have forgotten Akane was wearing shorts. 

Eventually, she does find him. His back is turned near the field on a dirt path. He’s talking to someone, whom Akane guesses is his athlete, though she doesn’t see. 

There’s a buzz in Akane’s ear. She’d forgotten she’d put that damn thing in there. She almost squeaks at the sound. 

“Owari-san? Can you read me?”

“Uh, yeah. That’s cool. Can you hear me too?”

“Yes, I can,” says Sonia, “Wonderful! Have you found him yet?”

“Yeah,” Akane says, feeling suddenly stupid for talking to herself, “And he’s talking to…”

She walks closer, and when she reaches a certain angle, the person reveals themselves to be-

“...Nanami.”

“What?!”

The sound of something crashing juts harshly into Akane’s ear, causing her to jump. “Hello?” she asks. There’s no response. Is the connection out? What’s Akane supposed to do now? Walk back?

No, Sonia would want her to continue. She’ll be back. Akane presses on. Chiaki, several feet below Nekomaru in her usual wheelchair, has her arms crossed and her face sits in a tight scowl. They’re arguing about something, she realizes, and she hears more as she comes closer.

“I just don’t understand why you care so much about this,” Chiaki says.

Nekomaru scoffs, “Obviously because I hate to see you avoiding the issue! Come on, Nanami. This is getting damn annoying.”

“I’m going to do something. You’re just impatient.”

“And YOU’RE not thinking of her feelings!”

“I am,” Chiaki says, “You’re being-”

Her words die when she sees Akane, standing awkwardly some feet behind them. Nekomaru turns around and his demeanor changes so quickly Akane isn’t sure if it’s good or bad.

“Owari!!” 

“Owari-san, hey,” Chiaki says. She doesn’t seem surprised to see her. Akane isn’t sure when the last time she did was though. “Sorry, um, I’ll be back. I have to go to the bathroom.”

Akane stands by Nekomaru as Chiaki turns her wheelchair around and leaves. It’s one of those motorized ones, too fancy for Akane’s liking. Still, she imagines it’d be good for Haruo’s limp. Expensive though. She’d have to put a pin in it.

“Oh shit,” Nekomaru murmurs, “She’s pissed…”

“For real?” Akane asks.

“Yeah. Just look at the way she’s clenching the armrest like that. Also, the chair’s moving slightly faster than normal. I wouldn’t want to be the unlucky soul in front of her.”

“Man,” Akane says, “You guys really are close.”

Soon, Chiaki becomes a dot in the distance. Nekomaru shakes his head and turns to face her. “I’m sorry about that, Owari. I’m glad you came!! It’s going to be a great game today!!”

In the depths of Akane’s ear, she hears noise again. Sonia must be back. She’s muttering something to herself, over and over, a small: “What about the gaming convention?” Akane’s mouth feels dry. She realizes too late that Nekomaru is still looking at her.

“What-” Akane tries, then fails again. “Yeah, I’m…”

“Happy!” Sonia says suddenly, her voice frail but horribly loud, “You are happy to be here! Say that.”

“I’m happy to be here,” Akane’s grin feels wrong and pulled at the wrong places, but Nekomaru smiles back at her anyway, so she supposes she’s playing the part right.

The game is fun, though Akane can't remember much of it. She’s too busy listening to Sonia ranting in her earpiece. Multiple times, she nearly responded, although she wasn't supposed to. Nekomaru’s on her left, whooping and hollering encouragement to his athletes, who are about as scrawny a group of teenagers you can get. Chiaki’s on her right, watching the game with minimal glances at her phone. She seems to have calmed down for now. As the game draws to a close, Nekomaru runs out onto the field to the athletes. He’s sure to give each one a high five.

“She is really there, isn’t she? Oh, how could I be such a fool?” Sonia is whimpering now. Akane's sure she’ll be crying soon. She sounds like how her siblings would when Akane and her first stepmom would fight years ago. Snot and tears and bubbling words. Usually, Akane could hush them without issue.

But right now, she’s stuck. She has to say something, doesn’t she?

“Are you okay?”

Sonia chirps, “Owari-san, not out loud! Remember?!”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Chiaki says instead. Crap. Akane forgot she was sitting next to her. “Sorry for earlier. Did… Did you go to the luncheon thing?”

“Yeah,” Akane doesn’t know what else to say.

“Looks like mostly everyone did then. I should have gone.”

“Fuck! Shit! Why the hell didn’t she then!?” Sonia snaps. Akane isn’t sure if she’s heard her this angry before. Not even at Kazuichi.

“That’s okay,” Akane says to Chiaki.

 She hasn’t ever been sure what to say to Chiaki before. Sure, Nekomaru managed to form a surprising friendship with her, but most of the time, Akane and her barely spoke full sentences to each other. Video games just weren’t really her thing. She can count a few significant moments in her head. One, was that Chiaki’s disability was not too unlike her brother Haruo’s, in some ways. Besides that, it’s a white blank slot in her mind.

What is she supposed to say now?

Thankfully, she doesn’t have to think too much longer. Nekomaru returns, but with him, a new wave of uncertainty appears. He’s beaming ear to ear, talking with his athletes as they crowd around him. Popular as always, he’s caught up in his world until he notices her as she sits blankly on the bleachers with a too-tight ponytail and a distraught princess in her ears.

There’s a moment of pause. Akane tilts her head. As if he were a dog mirroring her movements, Nekomaru does the same. Then, Akane does it again. He laughs. She smiles back at him, and all she can feel is an uneven tear in her chest.

The game ends. Akane feels like an astronaut stranded. Crowds swarm and scuttle away, but Akane remains on the bleachers because she hasn’t been told to do anything else.

“Hey,” she whispers, “What do I do?”

“So sorry, Owari-san,” comes the voice of Sonia, slightly weak from earlier. “Yes… You are still my number one priority. I will not leave you. Where is he?”

“I dunno,” she says. Chiaki is gone, too. Maybe she’d said goodbye to Akane, maybe she didn’t. Either way, the field is emptying of families and athletes. Akane doesn’t even know who won. God, she’s clueless. The warmth of the sun is beginning to leave her, slimming out into husky oranges and pinks as it falls back against the horizon.

“Owari,” says a voice, and she faces it. It’s Nekomaru. 

“There he is. Now Akane, be ready for anything. Remember what we practiced.”

What did they practice? Seriously, what? Akane suddenly can’t remember shit. Even worse, a heavy feeling of dread sinks into Akane’s chest, that presses on her throat, that presses on her words. 

“Can I sit?” he asks.

“Yeah.” Akane scoots over so he can join her. They sit in relative silence for a few seconds. Nekomaru scratches at his ear, then laughs to himself. 

“What?” She asks.

“Oh, nothing. Just thinking.” As much of an oversharer as she is, he decides not to share this. Akane sets her palm into her hand.

This half-comfortable, half-easy silence is something Akane is used to with Nekomaru. In high school, it happened as they settled into their third year. Routines got more serious, as did their familiarity, she supposed. Yes, they were loud. Destructive, even. They’d been rather infamous for it in some parts of Hope’s Peak before they’d calmed down. Before Chisa decided Akane’s laissez-faire attitude about everything had to change.

There was also two years ago, in Rio de Janeiro. Whether it was on the remaining jet lag from the 26-hour plane ride, or the adrenaline from her gold win, Akane and Nekomaru didn’t speak much for their last night in the city. What sights they saw, they had visited them previously, like the excitable tourists they were. But for their last night, all Akane remembers is them on the balcony of his apartment, caipirinhas in their hands, as they watched the sun go down together.

What Sonia had said. “Did anything happen?” Was that what Akane wanted? Was that what she was supposed to want? 

“Owari,” Nekomaru murmurs, his voice snapping her back to reality, “I meant to ask. Are you… wearing perfume?”

“Uh.”

“I mean, if that’s what you want to do… I suppose that’s fine. It’s never too late to try new things, right?” 

“Say yes, Akane!” Sonia adds encouragingly, a fairyfly in her ear.

“I just wanted to…yeah,” Akane says. 

Despite what he says, something about the way he speaks to her now is off. Suspicious, maybe. Akane isn’t used to him being subtle. The great thing about Nekomaru in the first place was that he was the complete opposite of subtle. What is this now, him acting so coy?

“And the jacket. The hairdo. Don’t tell me,” Nekomaru eyes her more intensely, and Akane feels her stomach squirm. “You wanted to visually show support for my athletes’ game! How considerate of you!”

Sonia makes a soft noise of confusion. Akane doesn’t know quite what to say to that. She shrugs.

“You didn’t have to. I know everything is busy with you already. How are they, by the way?” Nekomaru asks.

“Who?”

“Your siblings, of course! Who else would I mean?”

“Oh, they’re good. I visited them today. Just shopping for them. Miki and Mirai fought over snacks.”

He laughs warmly, “I can imagine! That’s very them.”

“And they asked about you. Ume…She had pictures. From that camera you gave her years ago.”

Nekomaru’s expression turns more thoughtful. Akane wishes she could understand how he lets himself show so much. Emotions aren’t a hurdle for Nekomaru. They never have been. And truthfully, if she did the rare introspective dive, Akane always felt a bit inferior for it. 

“I’m sure they were beautiful pictures,” Nekomaru says tenderly, “She’s a very talented artist.”

“Geez, old man. You should tell her that yourself if it means that much.”

At the nickname, Nekomaru only rolls his eyes. His gaze shifts ahead of them. The sky is a blueish twilight. By all means, the two of them should be heading back, but they don’t. Akane watches him closely. His expression is wistful. It’s either he says something or Akane does, and she finds her fingers are starting to tremble. She locks them in a fist.

Nekomaru asks, “Hey, do you remember when Koizumi took our group pictures for the Christmas party? Everyone kept blinking, or moving. Especially you. You kept scratching your arm.”

Akane can’t remember much, and yet other things she can remember well. High school, like many parts of Akane’s young life, was split between obligatory and familial duty. Hope’s Peak was unlike home though. She could do whatever there. Care about no one. Waltz the roof and skip class. 

“Oh, or the time Tanaka brought an eagle to class… Can’t forget that!”

At the mention of Gundham, Akane hears a soft noise on the other side. Sonia must have moved to hear them better.

“The field trip to the race track. You racing that horse…”

“Come on,” Akane groans, “I would have won! I just wasn’t ready when you clicked the timer.”

Nekomaru laughs, louder this time. Akane simply watches him. When he stops, he runs a hand against his hair and simmers there. He’s thinking. With a quieter tone, he adds:

“They were good times, weren’t they? With all of you. Crazy shit went down, for sure, but… I wouldn’t take any of it back. Not for anything.”

They lock eyes again. She wonders, panicked, why now is he getting so nostalgic? She wants to say, I know. I know about your heart, Nekomaru. But something in her stomach churns against her better judgment. When he speaks again, she speaks too.

“I just-”

“Nidai-”

He stops, eyes wide, and she doesn’t provide him with an easy answer. Sonia’s voice comes in like a savior from heaven. “Akane, this is the moment. Be brave. Tell him how you feel.”

“You go first,” Akane says. Nekomaru pauses, stares, before doing what she asked.

“I guess I just wanted to thank you for coming!” Nekomaru coughs a little, awkwardness settling between the two. “I know we haven’t seen each other in some time. Especially since I left Sonia’s reunion as abruptly as I did. So you doing this, showing up for my athletes, and supporting them… It means a lot. Really.”

Akane hates that in this moment, all she can think of is that it was Sonia’s idea. 

“It’s nothing,” she manages. She wants to say more. She wants to say she’s here for him. Goddamn it. The pressure in her throat builds. She feels a scream buried deep in her chest muddle away. And everything - god, everything. Possible feelings and guilt and shame and fear and missing him even if he’s right here. And so much that it’ll makes her head hurt, until she’ll end up crying over something and she won’t know what she’s crying for. 

“So what did you want to say? It’s your turn,” Nekomaru, with a grin, adds, “Don’t you hold back on me now!”

And Akane blanks. Her mind completely, utterly, fails to think of anything. Whatever Sonia wanted. Whatever Akane thinks she wants. It doesn’t matter. It’s all gone and she can’t get it back.

Nekomaru waits. His smile falls and he looks concerned now. The night grows dimmer. Sonia is hushed in her ear, carrying with her a tone of worry.

“Oh dear. Are you alright?” 

“I-” Akane’s voice is raspy. She swallows. She’s dizzy. “I forgot. Probably wasn’t anything super important. I gotta go.”

She stands up from the bleachers. Both Nekomaru and Sonia call out to her.

“Owari-san, what’s happened?”

“Owari-” Nekomaru doesn’t grab at her. He stays put. She looks at him on the bleachers. His hands are in his lap, strangely polite and uncertain. “Is everything okay?”

She doesn’t know. Akane nods, but it’s an unnatural motion. Like it was back then, when she’d come home with table scraps for her siblings, to find the men her stepmom kept around. And afterwards, when Satoshi would ask her: “Are you alright? Are you okay?” Akane wouldn’t cry. She’d nod, and smile, and promise herself never to think of it as long as she lived.

She feels like that right now. Panic rising, she vows to get out of here before she screws it up further. 

“I’m okay, I just gotta go,” she’s terrible at lying. So why is she doing this? Akane doesn’t run away. That’s weak. She can’t allow this.

“Oh,” Nekomaru says. He knows she’s full of shit, she’s sure he knows. Still, he doesn’t pry. “Well, take the train. Don’t be reckless and decide to walk.”

“I can… Take care of myself,” she adds, using a smirk to cover herself, “Don’t make me fight you.”

“Believe me, I don’t think anyone wants that. Especially not the owners of the venue,” Nekomaru says with a weak laugh that brightens his cloudy expression. He takes a pause, “Just don’t be a fool.”

Bossy as always. Akane finds herself slightly relieved he doesn’t ask anything else. After she says goodbye, she slinks away out of sight to leave him there on the bleachers. Nekomaru hasn’t moved when she looks back, yards away. He watches the beginning of the night sky. She wishes she could see his face.

She turns and walks into the closing building. What little light that remains streams in through the setting moon in the panes of mottled glass, creating spots of light on the dark tiles. Akane thinks they look a little like stars. She numbly touches one with her foot and looks at the large front doors of the lobby. Sonia must be on the other side. Her voice arrives in a hushed strain strain in her voice as she gains the courage to speak again. 

“Owari-san, what are you doing?” 

“I don’t know,” Akane says, “I blew it.”

Chapter Text

They meet a day later at the same diner.

Akane is so thoroughly stressed that she orders nearly half of the menu, or at least, it feels like it. She can worry about her side of the bill later. Sonia orders nothing but a tea. The two of them sit and eat and drink but don’t speak for what seems like twenty minutes. Finally, Sonia sets down her cup with an austere expression.

“Owari-san,” she says, “I just want to say that it wasn’t your fault.”

Akane’s mouth is full. She hums something inaudible. 

Sonia continues. “It was my fault, if anything. How embarrassing of me, to make your private moment so… How selfish. I am so sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“You’re okay. It just happened. I told you. I ain’t good at big feelings stuff. Also everyone knows I’m not the smartest, so it’s my bad.”

“Please don’t say such things about yourself,” murmurs Sonia, horrified.

“It’s just too much. I shouldn’t have asked you for help in the first place,” Akane only shrugs.

“But … I live to help my friends.”

And Sonia is supposed to be at the hot springs right now. She should be, anyway. Why the hell is she still in Tokyo at this shitty one-bit diner with her? She keeps going, unaware to Akane’s spinning internal questions. Something isn’t right, and it’s not just Akane’s inability to express herself. She glances at Sonia, lowers her brow, and feels a sharp gut instinct as she asks:

“What about Nanami?” 

Sonia nearly gasps. An unrefined, un-princess-like expression crosses her dainty features for a flash and it's gone. “W-What? What about her?”

“Well, she was at the game, and you freaked out. And then… Uh, I think you talked about her before too.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Sonia weakly smiles, then says, “The truth is, I’m not sure what happened either. I had talked with Chiaki briefly before my flight days ago. She said to me that she’d be out of town, for a gaming convention. Therefore, she wouldn’t have been able to come.”

Sonia’s finger gently nudges at the cheap tablecloth, squeezing it against the side of her cup.

“Then, it turns out she hadn’t left. She was simply lying to me, her best friend…” Sonia’s eyes brim with tears. Akane can only watch. She’s never been good at comforting girls her age, though Mikan did trail after her sometimes in school.

“Why?” Akane asks.

“Why? Oh, how I wish I knew the answer. She’s never done something like this before. Especially not to me. Though there was that Reserve Course boy she dated for a while… I wonder what became of him.” Sonia shakes her head tersely, “No, she wouldn’t have done it to him either. Chiaki simply doesn’t do things like this. She doesn’t.”

Clearly, she did, but Akane doesn’t know, because she doesn’t know Chiaki. Even so, there is a subtle feeling of recognition in Sonia for a small moment. As different as they are, the two of them were lied to by their best friends. Weird how that works out. 

Akane shifts her weight against the table softly. Sonia is gazing forlornly at the corner of the table. Against her better judgment, Akane opens her mouth.

“Why don’t you talk to her and find out?”

Sonia’s eyes widen. She says, “Talk to her? Oh my, why would I ever do that? It’s clear she doesn’t want to talk to me, so I must respect her boundaries.”

“How do you know that?”

“It’s just a rule. An unspoken one, perhaps, but a rule nonetheless. I’m sure you understand. After all, it’s what we must do as girls.”

“Man, girl world doesn’t sound fun,” Akane says.

“But Owari-san…” Sonia frowns, “You are a girl.”

Akane only hums. Sonia continues to think out loud.

“However, Nidai-san is close to her, isn’t he? I remember all of the times they talked to each other in high school.”

The mention of Nekomaru’s name sends a sharp spiral of anxiety into her gut. How many forks is she going to bend at this place? She guesses it might as well be penance for all the men she had to deal with serving here. The memories of slipping hands and whiskey breath causes her to shut her eyes and hope to whatever’s out there that Sonia doesn’t notice.

She thinks about what Nekomaru must be doing now. It’s morning on a Monday. He must be on a jog. He doesn’t sleep in. She’s also never seen his apartment. Akane imagines it’d be clean like his dorm at Hope’s Peak. Fresh towels on a neat stack in the bathroom. Healthy food in the fridge. There’s a safety in that place, imaginary or otherwise, that she doesn’t feel nearly anywhere else.

And she left him on the bleachers when she should have told him something. At least a few words. A thank you. Anything. She wonders how long he stayed there under the sky. Or if he missed her when she was gone.

“They’re close, aren’t they?” Sonia says gently, breaking her out of her trance.

“Yeah,” Akane says. Obviously. She was at the game before Akane even was.

“It’s unexpected. But perhaps he knows. Do you think he…?” Sonia stops when she sees Akane’s lack of expression. The two women stare at each other with not much else to add or say. “Nevermind that. It’s best not to get others involved in your troubles. Especially when they’re going through so much themselves.”

Akane nods.

“That leaves the two of us, I suppose,” Sonia prattles on, glancing to Akane for approval, “Even if this past attempt didn’t go as well as we had hoped, I have a few more days in Japan. There’s still time…” 

“What about your hotels?”

Sonia’s eyes gleam with determination. She says, “I believe I’ve found a new purpose to my vacation, Owari-san. I won’t stop until I’ve helped you!”

That doesn’t make much sense to Akane, but a lot doesn’t make sense to her. A lot that everyone else seems to have figured out. She sits there awkwardly, deciding whether or not she should be grateful or clawing the sides of her cage with anxiety. She chews on the inside of her cheek when she looks at Sonia again.

“Yeah, thanks.”

…

Sonia has a plan. She keeps saying that over the next day, by text or by calling or however she wants to reach her. A big plan, she’d practically beam over the speaker, He won’t see what hit him! At the last part, she seemed to become a little maniacal. Akane sat on the other side of the line, feeding herself canned soup.

How many days are left?

Not many, she’s sure of it. For the entirety of Akane’s workday, she thinks of what Sonia must be planning. She wonders if she’ll have to wear another earpiece, or say anything strange. She weaves through the tables and adjusts her outfit when she feels someone’s eyes on her back. Perhaps another person who’s confused to see an Olympic gymnast working part-time. That, or someone else.

Akane looks back to find no one there. The plates of food feel hot on the tray. She quickly reminds herself that this isn’t home, and moves on.

Akane doesn’t receive any news from Sonia as she settles in for the night after work. She ignores the dreaded, welcome silence in her apartment as she kicks her shoes by the door and shuffles to the couch. After taking off her waitress uniform and stripping down to her underwear, it’s plush on her aching body. Akane’s TV, a rickety thing she barely uses, sits in front of the couch on a stand.

To escape the shakiness of her head, or perhaps because she’s just bored, Akane grabs the remote and turns it on. Maybe a ninja show is on or something. 

Every channel is boring. 

Re-runs, quiz shows, and medical dramas. She decides she dislikes the cooking channel the most, because none of the food being prepared will even be eaten by her, so what’s the point of it? Where’s the ninja shows, Akane thinks to herself and presses the button again. Again. Again-

She turns the TV off. She’s not sure why she even has it. An insistence from her siblings, but not anything that had any real practical use besides distractions. When Akane was young with a fever, she watched cartoons on the TV. Or when she was with her birth mother, as the woman lay in an induced coma some feet away.

The only other time she got that sick was at Hope’s Peak. Months of running around recklessly, going from her neighborhood to school, back and forth, must have contracted her with something so fierce she lost her voice for a week. In the blur of days on end without anything to do or say, Akane felt herself slipping into uneven dreams and prolonged boredom. Chisa would often visit, with her bottles of water, medicine, and wet wash cloths in her hands. 

There was something about it. Something foreign. At the time, Akane didn’t like it. She’d managed for years alone. She’d been sick countless times, dealt with numerous ill siblings, and rarely did she need medicine to survive. That was just what you did. That’s what she told herself. 

On the second day of her bedridden state, Nekomaru visited. He hadn’t since he found her coughing during a training session and forced her to rest. Akane, deep in the haze of sickness, barely noticed him until he was right beside her, a contrast to his usual bombarding presence. She must have really been out of it.

He said something she couldn’t hear. The room was dark and made it that she couldn’t see his hand until she felt it against her sweaty forehead. Her breath came out in strained puffs, groaning as he did so. This time, she did hear him.

“Still a fever,” Nekomaru murmured, as he refilled the glass of water on her desk. Even with her eyes closed, she could feel his gaze on her. “I must have pushed you too hard. That wasn’t right of me, as your manager. I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t long after that he left her, leaving Akane back in the dark messiness of her cluttered dorm room. It was typical that every time he exited a space, things suddenly seemed quieter. It was different now. Everything was loud. Staticky, like fiberglass. 

In the sober present, Akane sits alone on a slightly stained couch and stares ahead at the wall of an apartment she’ll never feel at home in. She doesn’t stop herself as she places her hand across her forehead just as he did. It moves down her face, landing on her cheek, and stays there. For reasons Akane struggles to understand, it hurts to do this. 

…

“Alright Owari-san, this is it. Are you ready?”

Akane’s been taking the subway more and more recently for work, but that’s not why she’s here today. It’s her day off, and the buzz of everyday people wave past her in droves. Sonia said this was the exact line he takes some Wednesdays, and though Akane has no idea how the princess knows this information, she’s not going to take it for granted.

“Sorry, what do I gotta do again? Which chart am I doing?”

“You are doing whichever pathway fits the moment best. The red path is for a romantic scenario. The pink path is for a platonic scenario,” Sonia reminds her from the phone close to her ear. Akane has been on call for her, reviewing their homework for the past ten minutes.

When Sonia brought out the board this morning (Yes, a board. Full of charts, graphs, and branching paths at that), Akane would have nearly blanked out if it weren’t for her fueled desire to right her wrongs. She listened, and understood this time that even if the directive changed, Akane could still make it right. Any slip-up, or change of “genre”, as Sonia called it, would give her the opportunity to say at least something of substance. It’d be different every time, but that’s what made it more lifelike. At least, that’s what Sonia said.

“This is no means a demand for you to reenact these scenarios perfectly,” Sonia says, “It’s simply a guide. This means you must speak from the heart. I will not be there to ruin it with my silly quips or comments.”

“Nah, you won’t ruin it,” Akane says, taking one last look at the station’s entrance before tapping her card at the Ginza line’s gate. Immediately, the influx of people is overwhelming. 

“That’s very kind of you to say, Owari-san, but I want you to hang up as soon as you find him. I won’t be intruding this time, no matter what you say,” Sonia tuts.

The train itself seems larger than usual. Akane can’t hear much of anything around her, and her chest feels cold like it does sometimes when she runs too far. She asks, “And I’m doing a …Meat cube?”

“A meet cute. This means, be natural! Act as though it was a complete accident you ran into him today. Be spontaneous!”

“But it’s not an accident.”

“What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him. You’ll do wonderfully. I just know you will.”

There’s a fat chance she’ll even find him in this crowd, but she’s not going to argue with Sonia. The traingoers murmur and shift as Akane looks around like a lost puppy. Finally, the doors open to the arriving train, and everyone seems to pile in at once.

It’s now or never. Akane runs and leaps into the nearest car, taking with her a gust of air before the doors close. A woman rubs her arm crossly from when she must have bumped into her. Akane apologizes quickly and walks on.

Every section of the train is full of people. Some sections are emptier than others, therefore she starts there. As she does, the reminders from this morning stick out like flagpoles in her mind. Red path. Pink path. Akane thinks, and thinks until her head becomes numb.

A persistent feeling of tunneling black clouds her vision as she stares down the train car. It goes on forever. She wonders what Sonia is doing now. Akane takes a few strides into the next section. No luck again. Now if she could-

“Have you found him yet?”

“Nah, not yet. I dunno if he’s here.”

“I’m sure of it. In my research, he always took this line. Keep looking.”

“Alright, I’m just-“

“OWARI?”

In one fell swoop, Akane hangs up on Sonia and turns around to find Nekomaru, standing behind her with his hand on the overhead bar and his eyes wide open. A few bystanders wince at his exclamation. He doesn’t notice, and Akane doesn’t really care. She shoves her phone in her pocket, praying that he didn’t hear her.

“Oh,” Akane tries to put on as natural as an expression as Sonia taught her. “Hey, why are you here?”

“Why am I here?? Why are YOU here? You don’t take this line!” Nekomaru scratches at his neck. He’s dressed very casually today, sweatpants and a hoodie over some graphic t-shirt. A lot more down to earth than his usual garb. He says awkwardly this time, “Sorry, I’m just…I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“Me neither.”

She’s half-expecting Nekomaru to let out a boisterous laugh and pull her in for a side-hug like he always seems to do when they meet unexpectedly, but that doesn’t happen this time. Instead, he only looks down at her with all the hesitance of a small, fuzzy animal. He finally sighs, and scoots over so she can stand next to him. 

“Why are you heading out this way?” he asks her.

Sonia’s excuse had been to look for clothes, but Akane doesn’t exactly clothes shop, and she knows Nekomaru knows that. She thinks of something else fast.

“I wanted to get Ume a birthday present,” she says, and hates that it’s a lie. Akane promises herself to get her something nice for her birthday next week. If not a new camera, maybe something nearly as good as one. 

“So you came all the way out here? I don’t know. That seems rather far…” Nekomaru says. He’s deep in thought, which Akane never really likes. The conversation dies quickly after that for the minutes it takes to get to the next stop. Most of the passengers thin out and leave but the two of them are there in the middle of the train car, stuck to look at one another.

The latest flush of people leaves them with enough room to sit on the open bench together. It’s too quiet for both of their liking, especially Nekomaru, by the way he shifts uncomfortably and glances the other way. Akane thinks of the board, and how she won’t screw this up again. There’s no way. She can’t.

“So,” he starts, “Where are you getting off?”

“I dunno, I figured I’d just follow you. Since I found you and all.”

He frowns. Did he not like that answer? How was a “meet cute” supposed to go? Be spontaneous! Sonia had said. Akane can be that. Spontaneous. Can't she?

“Did I say something wrong?” she asks him.

“N-No, it’s nothing like that. I’m just… Today’s not the best day for me. You see, I have to go somewhere. I wish I could help look for a present with you for Ume-san, but I’m afraid I have to let you down easy.”

Akane eyes him closely, “Where are you goin’?” 

Nekomaru is nonchalant, which sends another flare-up into her spine. “An appointment. I’m a bit early for it, but heh. I’d imagine you remember how much I yelled at you to be punctual!”

An appointment, he says. Today, of all days. 

And he’s laughing. Why is he laughing about this? Akane’s blood stills. She gawks at him, her hands clench into white-knuckled fists, and whatever resolve she has left in her system vanishes. 

“When were you gonna tell me what those were for?” she asks, “Cause they’re for your heart, right?”

She wishes she could understand the severity of Nekomaru’s surprise, while simultaneously being glad she didn’t. One fact is clear: his expression, twisted as it is, means that he didn’t plan on her finding out. The thought is so blindly angering that it brings back a flare of an old coping mechanism and a grinding in her teeth.

“Owari…” he says weakly. She doesn’t let him continue.

“No. Cause when the hell were you going to tell me? Were you just gonna let everyone else know but me? What am I-” Akane takes a rapid breath. She can feel all the progress and research her and Sonia had done wash down the drain in an instant. “What am I supposed to do about this?”

“Nothing. Because this isn’t anyone’s burden but my own. Listen-”

“I don’t care! God, I’m gonna seriously punch you so hard-“

“Let me finish!” Nekomaru snaps, “I don’t want you to feel as if I purposely didn’t tell you. I did mention appointments over the years. I did! But I just-”

“You mean those dentist appointments?” Akane feels lightheaded, “You didn't even correct me or anything when I thought that’s where you were goin’!”

“Why would I, when any external stressors could have ruined your progress as an-“

“Who cares about stupid progress when you could have died?!” Akane screams, and finally, Nekomaru is rendered silent.

She lets go of the seat she was desperately gripping her fingers into. Her other hand is pierced by her own nails, which dig into her skin. Akane takes a deep breath, shaking at the end of it, and glares up at Nekomaru. He appears at a loss of words. He blinks when the leftover salarymen shift even further away from the both of them. Finally, he regains his voice.

“I want you to think about something. Why would I, as your manager, put that kind of stress on you? You were training for the Olympics. Not to mention everything with your family…”

“So? It’s not like I can’t handle a little stress.”

“That’s not what I’m saying. I know you can, and you did,” Nekomaru says, “But I figured I’d tell you eventually. Just with our lives, the busyness, it never came up. This was my stress, and my problem. I chose not to involve you for the time being. I wasn’t purposely avoiding you.”

“Well, yeah. You’re a crappy liar,” Akane says, “But I bet you didn’t mind not tellin’ me too.”

“I didn’t plan on anything. You’re being stubborn about this.”

Akane thinks of a dark room and a lost voice and a gentle hand on her forehead. She doesn’t want to think about it anymore.

“Well, you’re seriously pissin’ me off,” she tells him instead. 

There isn’t much else to say. Nekomaru clearly doesn’t want to fight her, so he doesn’t say a word. She feels emptied out. Her feet shuffle together on the floor of the train. 

Now what?

It’s with a sobering stillness that Akane realizes she fucked up again.

She thinks of Sonia in the hotel room, most likely pacing in place, torn into ribbons over whatever happened with Chiaki, and unaware to Akane’s rapid deceleration of their carefully crafted plan. Akane takes a breath, glancing to the awkward Nekomaru for a second, before realizing that there could still be a chance somewhere. She could be spontaneous, couldn't she?

Nekomaru is looking deep at the waxy floor of the train. It’s too muddy with shoe-streaks to see his own reflection. The bench, as wide as it is, only exists to constrict the two of them. No wonder she doesn’t take the subway when she can help it. It’s a tight, metallically bound box heading straight without stopping. Conformed to one direction.

But Akane is committed to this now. 

“I’m goin’ with you,” she says, causing Nekomaru to turn towards her.

“Excuse me?”

“The appointment. I’ll be there.”

…

Doctors’ offices were never Akane’s forte. When she was younger, the only times she remembers going to one was when her siblings were too sick to be helped by over-the-counter products. Before her birth mother left her to take care of a baby Satoshi, they’d also gone to a clinic that wasn’t too bad when she had a cold. There was a stack of kid magazines in the lobby, and Akane liked the pictures.

This office is just like the rest of them. Maybe it’s a little nicer, more upscale. Besides that, it’s like stepping into a corner of her life she barely remembers. Nekomaru signs in while she sits down on one of the many chairs. Something banal plays on the TV in the corner. Only one other person, an older man, sits on the opposite side of the waiting room. 

Akane plays with her trembling fingers until Nekomaru sits next to her. She places them down, hidden between her knees. When she sees Sonia, she’ll tell her it was a success. She said what she needed to say. She was there for him. She was spontaneous in saying she’d come. Is that natural? What she wanted? Is that enough?

It doesn’t feel like enough, but she can’t afford to think like that right now.

“Are you sure you want to wait here?” Nekomaru asks Akane, startling her slightly. What little energy he carried with him earlier has diminished. He speaks softer, as if afraid he’d rupture the building otherwise. If it were even possible, he looks small. 

“I’m fine,” Akane says, “I’ll be here when you come out.”

He nods. Another bout of silence follows them in the sterile, white room. Akane is too angry at herself to feel anxious. Nekomaru must feel worse than her, because he chooses to say something.

“I’m sorry,” he tells her, “I should have said something before.”

She nearly snaps at him again. The words throttle inside her throat, desperate to escape, but she doesn’t let them. Not now, god. She’s already ruined enough. Akane shrugs, rolling her shoulders as she clicks back into place.

She says, “It’s fine. I never asked.”

And it’s true. Not once did she ask. 

“No, you’re right. What if something happened to me then? You wouldn’t have known unless someone told you after the fact,” he says.

She tries not to think of that reality. The present is unbearable enough, and at least he’s right here beside her. Her fingernails bite against her skin - not nearly piercing it -  as she switches gears, looking to Nekomaru as he sits there and sinks into himself. 

One hand buries itself against his face. The other is nearly hanging on his knee as he bounces it anxiously and stares holes into the back of a nearby chair. He did this a lot when they traveled for competitions. Memories emerge of the two of them, squished in the seats of buses or planes, young and hopeful and sincere. She is overcome with the desire to touch him.

Akane isn’t thinking when she places her hand on top of his. It’s a shaky leaf on a puddle, balancing between lines and years of confusion as Nekomaru blinks out of his trance. He looks down at her, frazzled, before moving his mouth to say something that doesn’t fully register. Akane realizes what she’s done by the time her own mouth begins to wobble into a thin line. 

“Let’s just call it even, alright?” Akane says before she has a chance to run again, and his expression shifts. Akane doesn’t think that she’s seen Nekomaru look this sad in the nine years she’s known him. 

“Nidai-san?”

The two of them jolt in place and turn towards the voice. A young man dressed in white, holding a clipboard smiles cheerily at the two of them. Just like that, Nekomaru’s previous expression vanishes.

“Oh, sorry! I must have not realized you called me!” Nekomaru says.

“It’s quite alright. We’re glad to see you here,” the man responds in kind, taking a moment to look over Akane as she sits there awkwardly beside him. “Oh, hello. Are you Nidai-san’s sister?”

What?

“What?!” Nekomaru asks, “No, no, not at all! She’s my friend. She’s come to support me.”

The nurse blushes as red as a beet, apologizes, and briskly gathers Nekomaru so both of them can forget about this interaction. Sister. Do they look related? Akane briefly looks over herself, at her clothes, her legs, her shoes, before she realizes that Nekomaru is at the other side of the room, glancing back at the door and meeting her eyes.

She doesn’t know what to do. Akane gives him a quick thumbs up. She finally gets that laugh, but she feels nothing but a buzzing in her ears and a feeling of sour disappointment. The door shuts and all Akane is left with is the washed out remains of her anger and cheap, thin magazines about worlds she doesn’t live in. She doesn’t care for the pictures this time around.

…

Hours after the appointment, the lights in the city do nothing to comfort her. Akane simply stands and watches. She doesn’t want to take the train. She doesn’t want to go home either. Not to that apartment. To the medal, or the balcony, or her fridge. 

So Akane pivots, as her shoes scratch on the pavement when she takes a train uptown to Sonia’s hotel room. Does she need to text or call in order to show up like this, unannounced with nothing to say? Probably. Is it eight at night? Yes. But she can’t afford to care.

It’s a long way up once she enters the building. She doesn’t take the elevator. Too much of today has been spent in metal boxes, and Akane already feels too caged in to stand a single second more of it.

The stairs aren’t much better. Sonia’s suite was on the 12th story, and while Akane’s athletic skills don’t mind the work, it leaves her mind without any distractions. Only the carpeted staircase, the faint smell of floor cleaner, and her soft breathing keeps her company.  And she can’t help herself. She thinks about Nekomaru. That seems to be a common occurrence when she’s alone. 

Akane makes it to the 12th story without much fanfare, marches endlessly until she finds room 1207, and knocks. It only takes a moment. Sonia is there by the third knock, her hair in an updo and her face covered in a light green substance. A face mask of some sort. Her eyes widen when she sees her, hand flying to her mouth in surprise.

“Owari-san!” Sonia exclaims, being careful not to touch Akane as she leads her inside the room, “Is everything alright? How did it go? Please, tell me.”

Akane is sat on the plush bed as Sonia waits diligently beside her. Akane takes a moment to look around at the room. While it remains just as tidy as it did before, there are signs of permanency. Her luggage is thrown open and clothes are hung up orderly in the closet. There’s a makeup bag by the mirror on the table. Sonia doesn’t plan to leave anytime soon. It’s confusing to Akane as it is strangely comforting. 

“I-” she starts, then tries again, “I dunno. I guess it went fine. Better than last time.”

“But you met him? You did the meet cute?”

“Yeah,” Akane says, “Then I went to an appointment of his. And then we-“

“Hold that thought! Are you saying you went with him to an appointment?”

“Well, yeah-“

“Oh, that’s amazing news!” Sonia smiles brightly.

“It is?”

“It means you were there for him. You showed you cared. Tell me, what happened next?”

“We just… talked, I guess. Then he went home.”  Akane grits out, “And before that, I kinda fought with him. And he was so frustratin’ that I just…”

Sonia doesn’t have a response. Akane is just embarrassed enough that she falls back against the bed with her fists clenched. There’s a soft “pomf” as her hair hits the plushy quilt. It’s much nicer than any bed she’s had, even the one she has now. Akane feels Sonia scoot closer to her. Her voice is much more delicate when she speaks.

“Owari-san… It’s not your-”

“I still don’t get anything,” Akane says. Her face is red-hot. She’s too humiliated to care. “I’m doin’ all this stuff, following those charts. Even when I don’t screw it up, other things happen. Like when that dude called me his sister.”

“His sister?” Sonia’s mouth gapes just slightly, “My, that’s unusual. It’s normally that a bystander calls the love interest a girlfriend or boyfriend to the protagonist, causing flustered reactions… Not a sibling.”

Romantic comedy logic, Akane guesses. Something she still has no knowledge of. Akane turns over, her face hitting the smooth fabric. She realizes briefly that despite all she told Sonia, she didn’t tell her about her lying her hand across his. But Akane would rather not think about that either. She closes her eyes. Her words are muffled when she asks, “How do you…know, anyway?”

“Pardon?”

Akane moves her face and blinks up, then away from Sonia. “How do you know when you love someone, I guess. In that…way.” 

“Well,” Sonia’s face is almost redder than Akane’s, even through the green mask. She clears her throat and tries her best not to look ridiculous with it still on. “I suppose it’s just instinctual, even if you try to deny it. At first, there are fuzzy, happy feelings. A desire to be around them… A joy.”

Akane watches her closely. The princess is focused on her perfectly manicured hands as she moves them around the bedspread, creasing the folds flat.

“Then, if you’re apart, it may feel like you’re being torn on the inside. All you want to do is be with them, even when you can’t. It is a painful, wonderful experience.”

“Oh, okay,” Akane murmurs, “Did you feel that way about Tanaka?”

Sonia nods, smiling despite herself, “I did. It was very hard to separate when we did, even if it was for the best. With his profession, and my status.”

Sonia says the last word as if it stung her. Akane shuffles her arms under her chin and watches her continue. Futtering lashes move soft like butterfly wings, her voice dramatic and imposed.

“But when I was with him, yes, I felt quite alive.”

Alive. Akane stifles something down. She asks instead, “What about Nanami? You feel the same with her?”

“What?” 

“Well, y’know, had a gut feelin’ about it. But I’m not good at girl stuff, so maybe I’m wrong.”

“You had a feeling about… Chiaki and I?”

Akane pauses. Well, she supposed the two were friends. Best friends even, especially with the first-name basis. And it’s not like Akane was accustomed much to the lives of those with different orientations. She’s heard words, titles, and whatnot. Nekomaru knew them pretty well, as did some of her other former classmates. But she must be presuming. Being rude. That’s a usual for her.

“I…Hold on one moment!” Sonia blurts out, her face still a bright red, and hops off of the bed before Akane can say she’s sorry.  She hears the faint sound of the sink and splashes of water as she sits and waits. She really can’t keep her mouth shut, can she? Sonia obviously didn’t want to think about Chiaki, and here she is mentioning her. 

Akane pushes herself up to her knees and bounces there silently. Her anxiety builds and bubbles. She begins to bite at her nails. They’re short and blunt. She wants to bite them shorter.

“Owari-san-” Sonia’s hand comes to rest at her shoulder, and Akane gasps.

“Ah! Don’t-”

She stops when she sees Sonia, wide-eyed and guilty without the facemask, above her with a small black TV remote in her other hand. She retracts herself and wobbles out a, “I-I’m terribly sorry. I did it again, didn’t I?”

“No, you’re… You’re fine. I don’t even know why I do that,” Akane says, rolling her shoulders, “I don’t mind it, really.”

Sonia stands conflicted. And what can Akane really say? That she can’t stand unexpected touch and she doesn’t know why? Or she does know, deep down, and she doesn’t want to confront it? 

Akane can’t stand the look on Sonia’s face. She quickly changes the subject, “What’s the remote for?”

Luckily, this works. “Oh, it’s for the streaming service. I was wondering if you’d like to watch a film with me.”

“A film?”

Sonia nods, coming back to the bed again. She sits close. Akane can still smell the remnants of her perfume on her skin. In front of them, the luxurious flatscreen shows a plethora of movies Akane hasn’t heard of or cares to remember. Sonia scrolls past several before coming to a section that’s even more foreign than the previous.

“I greatly enjoy them,” Sonia smiles, “Though I prefer the horror genre, I must say that romantic comedies are very darling. Plus, they’re relevant right now, are they not?”

Akane squints at the screen. One movie after the other looks roughly the same. Most are foreign films, American or otherwise. White backgrounds with smiling faces. Beautiful women with wavy hair. Is this what she was supposed to follow? Her end-goal, as Sonia dictated?

They watch a romantic comedy. Sonia’s by her left, eyes glued to the screen, laughing along. Akane doesn’t remember the name. She barely watches at all. All that persists is a pervasive, running thought that kicks her gently, then harder again. A reminder that none of the women look like her.

Chapter Text

The scent of florals is suffocating when Akane comes to. Though nicer than the smells of the red-light district back home, it’s sharp and feminine in a way that startles her awake rather than gently shaking her. Akane’s heart pounds immediately on her chest before she realizes she’s still on the bed. She’d fallen asleep on her stomach, facing the TV. 

Guess she didn’t watch the movie until the end.

The clock on the sidetable reads 8:47. Almost nine? No way. Akane shoots herself out of bed. She relaxes, however, when she remembers she doesn’t have work today. But nine is still late for her. Usually she doesn’t sleep much at all, a habit of her past she has yet to leave behind.

As she stands and walks around, stretching her aching legs, Akane discovers that she’s the only one here. Though the smell of her shampoo and perfume remain in the hotel room, all traces of Sonia are gone. Multiple sections of the suite remain untouched. Perfect. The bathroom calls to her, so Akane shuffles over, feeling constrained in her clothes from yesterday. Being the nude sleeper she is, the urge to rip her shirt off grows steadily before she sees herself in the bathroom mirror.

What a mess she is. It’s not like she’d normally care. She almost doesn’t now. Nonetheless, she finds herself tugging lightly at the tangles that jut out against her hair, and poking at the bags there under her eyes. A few dozen bottles of expensive product sit on the sink. How did she pack all of these into her suitcase? Is what Akane wonders, as she picks an especially fancy purple bottle and tests the weight of it in her hands.

She has Olympic money now. Akane supposes she could afford herself to buy a few bottles of whatever this is. Maybe then people would assume she wasn’t the sister. Maybe at least, a friend.

The door opens with a quiet click. Akane quickly puts down the bottle, but has no time to dart away. Sonia, in all her extravagance and dressed in a short white dress, looks at her with query.

“Owari-san, good morning. Are you looking at my soaps?”

“They smelled,” Akane says. She forgets to say “good” at the end of it. Her eyes trail to what Sonia is holding, a plate of what appears to be a tray of deluxe foods. Egg whites and pastries and cups of rich coffee. Her stomach growls, causing Sonia to giggle.

Sonia says, “Please come and eat with me. Usually the staff here brings you the food themselves, but I wanted to take the initiative!” 

It’s delicious. Akane has no complaints. After the rollercoaster that was yesterday, she can’t be more thankful that the food is good enough to make her forget. Akane stuffs a bowl of rice, some soup, and a small cookie down her throat before she realizes Sonia hasn’t taken a single bite. Akane nearly chokes, hits her chest, and swallows.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, “Do you wanna bite?”

“All is well, Owari-san. I ate downstairs already. Though this is for me,” Sonia takes a sip of the coffee, sighs, and smiles at Akane. “Actually, I thought of an idea.”

Akane isn’t sure she can take another idea. The image creates a hard knot in Akane’s stomach. Still, it’s not like she can do this on her own. She listens intently as she chews on a piece of fried bread.

“First off, we are not going forth with a new attempt today.”

“Oh. We’re not?” Akane asks.

Sonia hums, “No. Instead, I was thinking about the spa. Just the two of us. Wouldn’t that be splendid?”

“The… spa?”

Akane knows as much about the spa as she does arcades, or bookstores. Which is to say, not much.

“Yes! Have you been, Owari-san? For two spry young women such as ourselves, I’d say we’re both overdue for a visit!” Sonia seems especially chipper, her words vibrantly ringing in Akane’s ears.

“Nah, I’ve never been to anything like that,” Akane says.

Sonia makes a strange sound, a mix between a gasp and a squeal, before she beams with delight. “Then it is imperative that we both must go! Is it not?”

It’s weird. Akane doesn’t think the two of them have one thing in common. With the other girls in school, Akane can think of some similarities, but Sonia was a mystery. Despite that, something about her remained comforting. And if Sonia’s smile wasn’t slightly infectious, maybe then Akane would have said no quicker. 

…

The spa Sonia takes her to is beyond her usual budget, to say the least. Akane hasn’t even heard of the place. Sleek black marble and gold furnished pillars greet them as they walk through the main lobby. A smell of deep incense stings Akane’s nose. It’s obscure enough to go unnoticed, and boring enough for her to otherwise not care. Still, she’s here.

What the hell now?

The woman at the front desk inspects her, then Sonia, and greets them both with one of those smiles she could never get right as a waitress. Pressed, thin lips into an all-too familiar feminine expression. It reminds her for a moment of her second stepmom, Riko, who allowed men to loiter around the house sometimes on the weekends.

“Owari-san?” Sonia asks, “Do you want the full package deal?”

“Uh - sure.” Akane doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She just wants to move on.

Apparently, a full package deal meant everything. A facial and a scrub, in which Akane’s face was treated clean and deep after she was placed in a towel. The entire time, Akane is with Sonia as they go from station to station. She feels as if she’s in an alien world. A luxurious one, but alien nonetheless.

When her legs are waxed and her hair is washed, that’s when Akane fully lingers on the night before. Of the movie posters. Their shared plan together. Akane’s second failure. She can’t concentrate on anything else but the slight sting of her legs as they ache from the ripping and tearing of the tape. They’re smoother now than they’ve ever been. 

That’s good, isn’t it? She tells herself this, that it will help and she should stop complaining, but the feeling that persists is creeping and achingly restless.

In the massage room by hour three, Akane lays next to Sonia on a separate table. A woman is massaging her deeply, tending to each area delicately with a firmness that lingers. This should feel better than it does. She tells herself to shut up, that she doesn’t know the first thing about being a normal woman, that she should just deal with it.

But the thoughts barrel in anyway. Why doesn’t this feel good? Why were massages okay then, if now fingers feel like daggers in her skin? The woman, delicate and precise, moves her hands down to Akane’s thigh. It’s a miracle she clenches her teeth, barring any noise from escaping.

Some ways away, Sonia sighs with contentment, and the sound moves through her body in a smooth wave. She seems relaxed from behind the partition. There’s too much incense to fall asleep. Akane stays put. Sweat drips down her forehead onto the leather table. She’ll think of anything to avoid remembering the past right now. She’ll even think about Nekomaru. 

And she doesn’t remember the last time he massaged her. It’s just not the same, she finds, if he’s not the one doing it. After all, only he knew her body so well. He was the one planning regiments, meals, routines, all with a time limit on his head. And why? Why did he decide that Akane’s victory was more important than his life? And why instead was she here, being groomed and presented like a porcelain doll, when she could be doing something better? 

She buries her face into the table. The sweat from her forehead builds into an uncomfortable gel. If she could bury thoughts before, she can do it again. She’s here with Sonia. Sonia is kind enough to waste her entire vacation helping Akane, who has yet to get a grip. The spa isn’t what Akane is used to, but it’s not bad. If she can just focus. Focus. 

She will get this right. She’ll survive this. This isn’t like when she was 14. Whether it’s a stranded thought or a chance at new distraciton, Akane idly thinks she needs to get Ume a birthday present soon. 

After the massage, Akane thinks about nothing but the gift. She could go for a camera. It’s not like she couldn’t afford it. However, the old thing was probably somewhere in the house. Under a floorboard, or in a cupboard. Ume was artsy, but she was also practical. Maybe a nice shirt. Akane’s never been the best with presents. She doesn’t want to remember how many birthdays she forgot while attending Hope’s Peak.

Maybe a sketchbook. She’d seen bits of what Ume had been drawing across the house. She’s good. 

Akane drags her finger across the wet tile as the onsen warms her from the inside out. Sonia had always been excited for hot spring baths in high school. Only now, is that same excitement muted by a new quieter expression. She comes to the side of the bath, undresses, and sits down in front of Akane, though she’s far too focused on the droplets of water her hand has left. Despite this, not an inch of the bath relaxes her.

“Well,” Sonia says briskly, “I feel much better! Would you say the same, Owari-san?”

Oh, right. That’s her name. Akane looks up. “They do a lotta stuff here, don’t they?”

“Oh yes, I came here a lot back in the day. They’re quite thorough,” Sonia’s placid smile quickly turns into a troubled expression. “Oh, but a lot of it was optional. I just wanted to say that.”

“What’d you mean?”

“Well, I noticed you got the waxing just as I did. And if you truly wanted that, that is fine. But if you didn’t…”

Akane opens her mouth, but she doesn’t say a word. Sonia binds her hands together beneath the glassy water. Her lips tremble nervously when she meets Akane’s eyes again.

“And the massage. How did I not consider that? I must be such a stupid, stupid woman.”

“Hey, Nevermind. It’s cool,” Akane says firmly. She’s telling the truth, she’s mostly sure. She went along with it. She didn’t say no. “I’m fine with massages.”

“But…touch. You have jumped when I’ve touched you.”

“Well, it’s…” And Akane doesn’t know how to answer that. She does know one thing. The “touch problem” is one of many she’s locked away and stuffed in a proverbial drawer. Thinking still hurts when she does it for too long. “I don’t know why that happens. I still don’t. I just… It’s different now than in high school.”

“Different? May I ask why?”

“It’s like, before all I had was my gut. It’s different now. Like I was underwater, and all you hear is this…” Akane makes a muffled sound with her wet hands. “...And now I’m not. It’s not much, but I’m not in the water anymore.”

Sonia listens deeply, though she seems to barely understand. Akane doesn’t get it either. 

“I see. I suppose that sometimes, I feel as if I’m underwater too,” Sonia hums. “Do you…Like it? The difference?”

“It makes things more frustratin’, I guess,” Akane says. 

Sonia laughs, and Akane decides that she likes the sound. It fades when the sounds of the onsen grow stronger, but muddied in frequency. Akane sinks to her chin in the hot water. Sonia’s smile falls. She’s deep in thought, her eyes zeroed in on the shimmering rings of light on the surface. 

“Owari-san, do you ever miss Hope’s Peak?”

“Do I miss it?”

“Yes, do you?”

Akane sinks slightly further, and blows a few bubbles into the water. They rise up with her and she tries to answer as her hair feels heavier by the second. She misses Chisa. Somedays, the class would have hotpot for lunch. The field trips were fun. Nekomaru and her had never been more inseparable. She thinks of the two of them some days ago, nostalgic on the bleachers as the sunset bled into stars.

“Yeah,” Akane says, “It was fun.”

Sonia’s eyes are cast in grey when she smiles, “Yes, it was.”

…

There’s something about Akane most people wouldn’t guess. She notices things. It’s true she’s never been the most observant. Her obliviousness is what got her in trouble more times to count. Still, once in a blue moon, she notices. Gut feeling or otherwise, Sonia is mentally somewhere else.

They’re walking together, free from the spa. Akane is clean and factory-made and overall, so wholly different from who she was when she walked in that she barely recognizes herself. The air feels strange on her smooth legs. Her body is light, relaxed, but her mind has never been more spread thin.

Sonia has her hands bound in front of her wooly sweater. She does that a lot, Akane thinks. They haven’t spoken for a while. The silence might have been more comfortable if the tension wasn’t already as thick as it was. Akane glances to Sonia, whose attention is quick and sharp despite her pensive energy.

“Owari-san, let’s travel over there.”

Akane follows her point. It’s a small bridge at the end of the path. A cherry red fence guards the edge. When they reach it, the water below is thick and dark like ink in the night. There are other people around, crossing the bridge at some points, but none linger. Sonia takes a deep breath through the nose and stares out into the waterway. 

“I’ve been thinking about what you said last night,” Sonia says.

“Huh?”

“About Chiaki and I.”

Akane bites her cheek. She’d forgotten about that thanks to everything else. “Nah, don’t worry ‘bout that. I was just sayin’ shit.”

“But Owari-san, I do believe it was your gut. You knew, didn’t you? To think that all this time, I haven’t been honest with myself,” Sonia says, eyes glimmering.

“Oh.”

 So it was true. Sonia loved Chiaki, in the way a girl might love a girl. Maybe to someone else it would have been more obvious. 

“Uh, when did that start?” Akane asks.

“I'm not sure myself. It couldn’t have been when I was with Gundham. If I’m honest, I must confess the long distance makes everything just a little harder,” Sonia says, “Perhaps it crept up on me and I was none the wiser.”

“Yeah, I mean, I guess that can happen sometimes.”

“And now, with her refusal to communicate… And everything that comes with it. Owari-san, I hate to put this on you, especially with all you have going on, but I just don’t know what to do,” Sonia’s words end in a muted whimper. Her bottom lip shakes with intensity. 

Akane should say something. Sonia’s frail voice carries on. 

“And I know that speaking to her, as I’ve said before, is fruitless. I’m no naive woman. I know how much pressure she was under during our time at Hope’s Peak. From Yukisome-sensei, to her mother, to her daily duties as a class rep,” Sonia trails off, voice weaker by the second, “I don’t want to play a part in that. I hate how I probably already did.”

Akane finds her own voice, awkward and tumbling. “But… I remember hearing her tell Nidai that she wanted to talk to you.”

“Well, she hasn’t. No explanation. The two of us… I thought best friends told each other everything. How silly I was,” Sonia says, “Do you remember us? How close we were? I don’t understand what could have happened between us to have her hide like this.”

Akane remembers only so little. It’s not surprising. Her attention had been only on a few people in high school. Despite her tunnel vision, glimpses and fragments of Sonia and Chiaki remain in class, in the hallways, talking about their interests, their hobbies. There was the Halloween party Sonia had thrown in first year, or the Christmas outing the year after. The two of them were almost always together.

And Akane thinks about what Sonia said. If Chiaki was really was under immense pressure during her time at Hope’s Peak, then that only adds more fuel to the fire, doesn’t it? Suddenly, Chiaki and Nekomaru don’t seem that different from each other anymore.

“What if she didn’t want to hurt you?” Akane asks, catching Sonia off guard.

“What?”

“Because it makes sense, right? Sometimes people hide things because they don’t wanna hurt you.” Or burden you, Akane almost says.

“But I don’t understand. If that is indeed true, then what could she possibly have to hide from me?”

“I dunno. I guess that’s for you guys to talk about.”

“No, I can’t do that,” Sonia says quickly, tears brimming, “I cannot. That would be me announcing that I knew she was hiding something at all! I’ll only drive her away!”

“But that’s what I did,” Akane murmurs. A flare of muted panic spikes in her chest.

Sonia doesn’t answer. Her breath has melted to shaky sputters, as she holds onto the railing and squeezes her eyes shut. A few tears fall down into the waterway. Sonia gasps out again. The two of them are in this moment, strange fixtures against the quiet world. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Owari-san,” Sonia cries, “This… This wasn’t supposed to happen. I should be the one helping you, and I haven’t even been able to do that.”

“Nevermind, it’s okay-”

“No, it’s very much not!”

The sight of her is enough to cause Akane to move. She inches closer, slowly, until she places a hesitant hand on the edge of Sonia’s shoulder. 

“Hey, you don’t gotta worry,” Akane says in the voice she used more often years ago, as a scrappy teenager with seven mouths to feed. As a child. “Here. Look.”

Before she thinks about it, Akane wraps Sonia in a hug. She hears the gasp from beside her ear, before the shaky sobs threaten to accompany it. Akane doesn’t hold her any tighter. Simply, like all the times before, she takes her hand and rubs it down Sonia’s hair, pressing slightly in the middle, and continuing all the way down. The movement keeps Sonia still, until her breathing slows and she lets her face fall against Akane’s shoulder.

“I used to do this to calm down the lil ones. Y’know, like when they hurt themselves, or they were scared. It always worked,” Akane says.

Sonia doesn’t answer at first. She sniffs, swallows, and warbles out a small, “Thank you.”

When Sonia is calm enough, Akane feels she can step back. Tear streaks stain her face. Her eyes are red. She looks refreshed in a way the spa must have neglected to fix. Crying did her some good. Akane knows she’s a hypocrite. All this, and she still avoids crying herself.

No one is around them. The sound of croaking frogs makes its way from the waterway up to their ears. Sonia is wrung-dry. Akane feels stranded. Is this what progress feels like? This avoidance, anxiety, and pain? If Sonia decides to never confront Chiaki, then what does that mean for Akane? Does she double down? Does she clam up like the first time?

“Owari-san,” she hears Sonia speak at last, “I have something to ask of you, if that’s alright.”

“Sure.”

“Do you mind if you called me Sonia? I… I would like that.” 

The question catches her in a spin. The idea that any former classmate would ask her to use their given name is near asinine, and yet here Sonia is. It’s not a norm Akane is used to, and one she’s sure Sonia is back home. And she realizes that she hasn’t thought of it before. She’s known these people for nearly a decade, and yet all she thought to use was their surname. No one told her otherwise.

Ultimately, she speaks. “No, I don’t mind.”

“You don’t?”

Akane smiles, shaking her head, “Nah, I don’t care about that sorta stuff.”

“I’m very glad,” Sonia laughs, relieved. It’s smaller than the other laughs before, and yet it sounds all the more genuine for it. There’s a pause, and the prodding feeling in her stomach returns. The leftover smell of the shampoo and soaps do nothing to calm her. She misses the sweat from a good run. More natural scents.

She thinks of herself in Sonia’s hotel room days ago, hair in a ponytail that didn’t suit who she is, covered in perfumes and nice clothes and things were fundamentally unlike her. She decides then, a clear thought in a sea of submerged sludge, that she can’t do this anymore. These plans, these makeovers, everything that Sonia is generous for doing, but also everything that Akane simply isn’t. It’s a performance. It’s not real, no matter how much she tries, it’s a script she can no longer follow.

She finds her voice again. Her fingernails press into the polished wood of the fence. Akane asks, “You mind if I ask you something too?”

“No, of course not. What is it?”

“Can we stop doing the romantic comedy thing?” 

“Oh,” Sonia says softly. Her smile returns, and her eyes are warm. “That’s quite alright. I don’t ever want you to force yourself to do anything. Only with what you’re comfortable with.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

Akane breathes a sigh of relief. It falls off her shoulders like rain. That was easier than expected. She cracks a small grin in Sonia’s direction, returning her smile, and everything should feel normal now but it isn’t.

“Thanks, Sonia.” Akane says.

It’s been a long day. She just wants to go home. 

…

So Akane goes home. Her apartment greets her with the usual silence. She’s glad she doesn’t have any pets, since she was gone for nearly a whole day. It’s in the same state as she left it in: a bit cluttered and messy but overall liveable. Dull. Nothing she’s not used to. 

She kicks off her shoes, cracks her back, and thinks about Sonia. She’d always been a confusing one, but worse now. Sonia, as kind as she is, frustrates Akane in a way that’s difficult to define. They’re different. Night and day, really. Clothes, hair, lifestyles, personalities. Akane glances over her nails, finely manicured in a way they’ve never been. 

They’re just different. 

But the good thing about no longer having to artificially plan and follow said plans, was that Sonia was free to do what she wanted now. Her vacation has to be ending soon, she thinks. Maybe now she can finally go to that hot spring. She could be a part of something that wasn’t  Akane’s chaotic life. Anything, everything, but apparently confront Chiaki. 

That only left Akane. No more plans. No more schemes, or confessions, or whatever Sonia had set out for her to do. So what would she do now? Return to normal? Pretend all of this didn’t happen? Go back to seeing Nekomaru every few months, and wait for the inevitable? 

The thought makes her tremble. 

She made a mistake, didn’t she? She had a moment of weakness. She shouldn’t have told Sonia she wanted to stop. There was no way she’d say anything otherwise. Akane already knows this about herself: she is not capable of big feelings. She doesn’t think she will ever be. Akane likes the comfortable, the breezy. She’ll never improve because she’d rather live in the moment than ever dig deep. She hates a performance, despite always living one.

Maybe Sonia was right, in the venue’s bathroom nearly a week ago. She hasn’t changed at all.

And Akane is predictable. She shuffles over to the fridge, and pulls out some leftovers. Eats them. Pulls out a microwave meal. She heats it up and eats it, despite it burning her hands. She paces, paces some more, and throws the empty container in the trash. 

When she watches TV again, there’s an unsteady, rocky beating in her pulse. She makes no expression, or movement. What’s playing? Something she doesn’t care about, like all the other times before. She’s still in the same clothes as yesterday. She smells like sweat and heavy soaps, a disgusting combination, and she wrinkles her nose as she stands up to turn off the TV.

Once it’s off, she doesn’t crash. Akane simply feels the glue holding her together leak out like a tiny cut. She sinks to the carpet in the center of her apartment, hugs her smooth knees, and tries to control her breathing. She can’t soothe herself like she did her siblings, or even Sonia. Her breath catches and catches and there’s a heat in her chest that feels loose and broken.

And then her phone buzzes, deep in the pocket in her pants from yesterday. It’s like an electric shock. She numbly pulls it out, blanking when she sees Nekomaru’s name on the screen. She sits there as the phone rings, heart skyrocketing. Her thumb hovers on the green button, and she watches as the ringing drones on in the stinging silence.

She takes it with her as it rings, her mind a waving line, and opens the balcony door and steps out into the night. It’s as cool out here as it was on the bridge. Her hand presses into the steel fence, grips it, and lets go again. She glances at her phone. Akane has never wanted more than to not call him, as much as she wants to call him. 

When she thinks of Sonia, in tears on the bridge an hour ago, Akane can’t help but give in. She breathes deep, straightens her back, and picks it up. There’s a bit of a stillness on the other side, until Nekomaru realizes she’s answered. 

“Owari?” he asks. On the other line, Nekomaru is heard walking around. Probably pacing. He does that sometimes.

“Yeah,” she answers, voice dry and chalky.

“Hey! I don’t want to take up too much of your time. I just, let’s see…” Nekomaru trails off. He sounds almost distracted. “I guess I wanted to call to address what happened yesterday between us. On the train.”

Oh, that. It feels like forever ago, if Akane thinks about it. 

“Yeah,” Akane swallows, “You’re fine. I thought we worked that out.”

“Well, no. It’s not fine. I wanted to check in, regarding everything, as well as apologize again for how shittily I treated the situation before.”

“You don’t need to. It’s just…”

There’s a pause on the other side. Akane looks at a small crack in the concrete slab.

“Owari,” he says carefully, “Are you alright?”

That causes her to blink, then straighten up. “I’m fine. Why?”

“Well, you’re breathing pretty hard. What happened?”

Akane clamps her hand over her mouth in an instant. Damn it. She hadn’t realized. “Nothin’ happened. I was out with Sonia.”

“You were out with Nevermind?”

Akane hums through her hand.

“Well, that’s nice, but something still seems off. If you want to talk about it-”

“Nidai, I’m fine. Can you quit being so nosy?”

Nekomaru shuts up. Without expressions to read, the silence feels like a slap in the face. Despite herself, the heat of tears burn Akane’s vision. She blinks them away before they can fall.  There were times before where she could have cried in front of him. They were together constantly after all, and any “ghost sightings” or flash of a childhood memory, could have let it happen, but Akane was one step ahead. He’s seen her frustrated, angry, sad, but he hasn’t seen her cry. 

And he can’t. Not when she’s supposed to be here for him. Plan or no plan, she can’t continue to fail him like all the times before. 

“I just… You’re not the one who should be askin’ those questions,” she says.

“What do you mean?”

“I should be the one that’s there for you. And… I really haven’t been, okay?” Akane says, “I didn’t even remember your birthday until the third year.”

His response is a surprised, but genuine laugh. It fades. “Owari…” 

“It’s true.”

“Look, I don’t give a shit about any of that. What matters is the present. What you do with the time you have NOW! Isn’t that right?”

Does he apply that to himself? He must have. Akane sets her phone next to her on the slab, as she sticks her legs out of the slits of the balcony fence.

“You’re talkin’ like my coach again,” she says.

“Heh, I guess some things never change!” roars the speakerphone.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“But seriously,” he says, quieter, “I don’t want you to ever kick yourself for anything like that. Because it’s not true. You are there for me, Owari.”

“Not enough. Not when it counts.”

“You are! What was yesterday then? What was this whole week, if that’s what you were doing?”

“I was-” Akane huffs, “You’re…Doin’ it again. Making this about me. How great I am or whatever, when this should be about you! That’s all I’ve been tryin’ to…!”

Nekomaru listens closely. Akane, a blubbering mess and nearly in frustrated tears, grits her teeth and waits for the rest of her words to slip from her. Akane’s face sinks into her hands, palms pressing into her eyes. 

“You’re so frustratin.’ It’s like… You just keep shutting down everything I say.”

“I’ll shut you down every time you shit on yourself. Look, Owari…” From the other line, Akane hears a measured breath. “I don’t know exactly what you’ve been doing this past week, but I will say this. You don’t need to repay me.”

Akane slowly raises her face from her hands, skeptical eyes glancing over the phone as it lays there, unmmoving from its previous spot. For a moment, it’d felt as if he was right next to her.

“There’s no need to. All I did was support an already gifted athlete. You did most of the work. And never should you feel you need to ‘return the favor.’ You’re already enough,” Nekomaru says, “You’re such a strong person. A loving sister. God, I can’t imagine where they’d be without you providing for them-”

“What do the lil ones have to do with this?” Akane asks, “You’re lecturin’ me again, old man.”

“Because you don’t realize the good you’ve done. You still don’t. You would rather think that it just happened out of coincidence, Owari. You don’t even realize what you’ve done for me.”

And Akane doesn’t want to know. He’s probably bluffing, either way. Akane closes her eyes. She imagines how she would feel if Nekomaru used her first name instead. Would it feel any different than it did now? Would he do it if she asked?

“It’s late. I know you hate it when I expatiate like this, but you can’t just talk about yourself like that” Nekomaru says, “I care a lot about you. I can’t have you torturing yourself because of this. Because of me.”

Akane’s breath shudders into the empty air. “Okay,” she finally says.

“Okay?”

“Yeah. I’ll stop… sayin’ that kinda stuff,” Akane continues, “But I need you to promise me something too. You can’t go and hide things again. I don’t care if you were ‘gonna tell me eventually’ or whatever.”

“I promise-”

“I’m serious. If you do that again, I’m gonna kill you for real.”

“I promise I won’t. Owari, it’s over. No more secrets.”

She nods, voice weak. “No more secrets.”

Another bout of silence settles. Akane wonders if he’s gone and left the room, but she can hear remnants of his presence like residue. Akane sits there on the balcony and thinks of Sonia. Of her inability to confront Chiaki, and even if Akane gave up the romantic plan, that didn’t mean she still couldn’t do her part somehow, to say what she should have said years ago.

“And Nidai,” Akane murmurs, “Thanks. For everything.”

“Why are you thanking me when I should be thanking you?”

“Just let me do it. Please.”

He stubbornly grunts in approval from the other side, conceding. “Alright.”

“And besides that, I wanted to say something else.”

“Of course, what is it?”

Akane stands up, and faces the city lights that glint in the dark. She thinks for a moment, testing the silence. Her tongue twists, and while her fingers tremble as she picks up the phone, she thinks to herself that it might be true she’ll never confront big feelings. If not that, at least she can come close to the real thing.

No more secrets. No more plans. Just her, Nekomaru, and however long was left. She can do that, she thinks. As much as it scares her, she can try. 

With a smile, Akane asks, “Would you come to Ume’s birthday party?”

Chapter Text

“What about this one?”

“Yeah, looks super good,” Akane says, overlooking the assortment of colorful cakes in the display case. The cake Juno pointed out is pink with small strawberries on the top. “I like this one for her.”

“You just like that one because you’re gonna eat all the chocolate pieces,” Haruo laughs.

In response, Akane just flicks him lightly on the head. 

Today is Ume’s birthday. And while a birthday party means more time with at least one of her stepmoms, Akane knows that doesn’t matter. Ume matters, and it’s been a hell of a week and a half. She’s never been more ready to buy a cake. But they’ve been in the small, pastel-colored bakery for over 15 minutes now, and they’re not getting any closer to their goal, despite the pleasant waft of cookies and bread in the air.

“All of them are pretty small…” Juno murmurs, twisting her split ends between her fingers.

“And pricey,” Haruo says, “What is this place, Akane? It’s like, way too fancy for us.”

“Don’t say that. Sonia told me about it.”

“Well, she’s…! She’s obviously gonna be able to afford one of these more than we are.”

“Relax. I got Olympic money, remember?” Akane leans in to suspect one of the bigger cakes, when the bell of the door dings and welcomes the next customer. 

“I hope I’m not too late,” she says, walking briskly to where they are. Haruo and Juno gape, their eyes wide as Akane stands up straight. Sonia smiles at the three of them with aplomb, her hair swimming behind her in a long ponytail. She wears a crisp outfit perfect for Fall. It’s too frilly for Akane’s tastes, but it’s perfect for Sonia.

“Are you…?” Haruo asks, suddenly flustered.

“This is Sonia. She’s helping us today,” Akane says, nudging her brother and sister to introduce themselves, “Don’t be shy.”

“Greetings to you both! Yes, please call me Sonia. I’d much rather we be informal here,” Sonia beams, starry-eyed, “Come, let us find the perfect cake for your sister. Tout de suite!”

Sonia has a way about her that exudes grace and authority at the same time. Naturally, this means that Juno and Haruo follow her lead enthusiastically. Gone are the usual groans and moans they sometimes give Akane. Sonia is bred royalty. Because she’s on vacation, it’s almost easy to forget that.

In the days that followed that night on the bridge, Akane thought about Sonia. She couldn’t help it really. The two of them had spent a significant amount of time together. It felt strange to end it right there. The romantic plans Sonia and her embarked didn’t work. That was obvious. But despite it all, Sonia had tried.

And maybe Akane wants to include her, for the hell of it. 

The three of them, with Sonia’s help, end up with a small, but colorfully decorated white cake, strawberries and blueberries adorning the center. Ume’s a fan of blueberries. 

“Alright, well, I guess I’ll pay for it,” When Akane goes to find her credit card, she’s stopped by Sonia’s gentle hand across her own.

“Akane, is it alright if I pay for the cake?” she asks.

“Nah, you don’t hafta do that-”

“I insist. In my haste, I didn’t bring a gift for your sister. It’s the least I can do,” Sonia says. 

It’s an offer Akane can’t in good faith turn down. Without any effort on her part, Sonia buys the cake. It’s when the group walks outside of the bakery, the sun bright on their faces, that Juno asks her:

“Geez, Akane… Where did you even find this one?”

…

Birthdays became more of a treasured tradition since Akane bought the house. Before, days were focused so solely on survival that Akane is sure she’d missed nearly all her birthdays until she was 15. It simply wasn’t important. Even now, the day doesn’t do much for her.

The lil ones were always different. Even back then, in between the looming threats of starvation or acts of violence, Akane would attempt to make those days just a little bit special. Bits of leftover scraps, maybe a flower she found on the side of the road. Whatever they liked, Akane would make an attempt.

She doesn’t feel like she tried hard enough this year. Her present for Ume, a practical and useful assortment of smaller items (a shirt, a paintbrush set, some pencils) isn’t as much as she got her the last birthday. Still, she’s here. She can make it through today.

“Make sure you get the streamers up in the front room,” Satoshi tells Mirai, who makes a face at him when he turns his back, “Akane, can you grab the tape?”

“Sure,” she says as she tosses it to him. Her brother nods and ventures into the front of the house.

“When is Ume coming, anyway?” asks Mirai.

“Soon-ish,” says Yuna, who’s tying balloons to a chair, “She’s out with her friends right now at the manga store.”

“That’s gonna take forever…”

Satoshi, as if he noticed his little brother’s complaining, peeks his head over the open doorway, “Mirai, get back to it.”

He disappears again. Mirai is left sulking. Akane brushes his hair back affectionately. “It’ll go fast,” she says, and turns to Sonia, who is at the kitchen table making paper lanterns with Miki. Her youngest sister is nearly infatuated with the princess, asking her countless questions.

“So what is being a princess really like? Do you tell people what to do?”

“Oh, I assure you I’m merely a figurehead in a lot of ways. However, I have always found myself more fond of the commoners’ lifestyle than my own.”

“Really? Isn’t that boring?”

Sonia says, “Not at all! Life as a princess isn’t the most eventful. That is, until it is time to marry…”

“Marry?” Miki’s eyes sparkle, “Do you know any princes? Are they handsome?”

Akane is quick to swoop in, guiding her sister away from the table, and taking the lantern out of her hands. “Alright Miki, why don’t you go and help Mirai with the streamers?”

“But I was just-”

“He’s all sulky, and I know you’d help him best. Pretty please?” Akane asks, grin bright, and her sister concedes with a small sigh. She runs off after her brother, leaving Akane with the woman of the hour.

“Sorry for all that,” Akane says, “I think she’s just a little excited to meet a real princess.”

“Not to worry. I enjoy talking to your family,” Sonia smiles, “They’re so…free-spirited. Much like you, in that regard.”

Akane supposes that happens when you practically raise seven children. “They’re great,” is what she responds with. 

“In that way, I cannot help but envy you, Akane.”

“Huh?”

“Forgive me. I don’t mean anything wrong by it. I suppose I…” Sonia ponders for a moment, her eyes downcast at the table. “I wondered often, in Hope’s Peak, what it would have been like to be born someone else. Do you feel that way too?”

Akane almost says no. She could never afford to think like that before. Growing up in a crappy town with crappy people, not knowing if you’d survive a week, or even a day. Akane never envied. To envy someone was a luxury people like Sonia had. 

But looking at her now, Akane can’t help but wonder what life might have been like if she grew up differently. If she never starved, or took home scraps to her siblings. If she never got into gymnastics because an old man told her to. Would she have even gotten into Hope’s Peak if not for that? She wouldn’t have met Chisa, or Nekomaru, or the others. She wouldn’t be here now, with Sonia, discussing their lives.

“Sometimes,” Akane says.

Sonia’s lips are pulled tight and thin. For a moment Akane wonders if she said the wrong words, but thinks it over. If she didn’t know better, she could have sworn Sonia was hiding something. No progress with Chiaki, if she had to guess. Guess there’s only one way to find out.

“Hey, so…” Akane says, “What’d you do these past days?”  

“I had a fun time visiting Koizumi-san and Saionji-san. Did you know they own their own business now?” Sonia asks.

“Oh. That’s cool.”

Does she ask about Chiaki? Is she even qualified to? Akane knows she’s struggled with tact in the past. Maybe before she would have blurted it out.

“What else are you gonna do?” She asks instead, and watches as Sonia’s expression turns pensive.

“I’m afraid not much else. You see, I have a late flight tomorrow. Around three in the afternoon. It was to be a short trip, you see.”

“Oh,” Akane murmurs, “You leave tomorrow?”

Sonia nods, a melancholic smile on her lips. “I do, but I will cherish the time I’ve spent with you, Akane. Truly, even if some things haven’t gone the way I hoped… I am glad I got to know you more.”

Sonia is eloquent. Akane is not. Still, her words mean something in a way she finds difficult to describe. She smiles back, and says, “Hey, me too.”

When Nekomaru arrives, as he said he would days ago, he drags everyone’s attention like a magnet. The cheers and loud greetings of her siblings nearly shake the foundation of the old house. Akane’s just glad her stepmom isn’t here yet. She finds him in the front room, boisterous as ever, surrounded by five of her siblings. Satoshi, as always, remains polite in the corner.

“Nice jacket, Nidai-san!” Juno says. 

“Hey, have any new manager stories?” Haruo asks.

“Dude, look at my handstand really quick,” Mirai exclaims, and prepares to do his trick.

“One at a time!” Nekomaru shouts, waving his hand at the bustling crowd. When he laughs at their shenanigans, it’s cut short when he notices Akane leaning on the wall across from them. 

There’s a pause. For an unknown reason, he looks at her like she’s struck him before his smile returns. Akane briefly wonders if she looks any more unusual than she normally does. She’s only back to basics, a t-shirt and shorts and no perfume to be found. Akane walks over to him, pushing back some of her siblings in the process.

“Will you guys cool it?” she sighs, “Let him settle in first before you show him all this crap.”

But Nekomaru had never seemed more invested. He says, “Are you kidding? I love to see their progress! Now Mirai-kun, let’s see that handstand!”

As if his life depended on it, Mirai performs a semi-irregular handstand, much to Nekomaru’s applause and the rest of her siblings’ amusement. When they've had their fill, the five succumb to Satoshi’s bossy demands and disappear into the different crannies of the house, leaving Akane with Nekomaru.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he says once the coast is clear, pulling out a plastic bag, “But I had to get her something.”

“Aw, come on. You didn’t.”

“I did!!” When he places the gift in her hands, Akane can’t help but gape at it. It’s heavy, still in a brand new box. The price tag has been deftly removed. “I figured she might want the newest model,” he says.

It’s a new camera, because of course it is.

“I didn’t have any time to wrap it,” Nekomaru says, ashamed. 

“You’re kidding,” she rolls her eyes, “You got her the best present here.”

In response, he only looks a little sheepish in the yellowish light of the foyer. It’s a given that Nekomaru will find a way to one-up her. After all these years, he doesn’t even have to try.

“Owari,” Nekomaru says again. Akane listens. “Thanks for inviting me.”

Akane only shrugs. “They love you. Why wouldn’t I?”

He laughs. By the way he’s looking at her, Akane knows he has more to say. For some reason, he doesn’t, the two of them both choosing to stand awkwardly by each other instead. She waits for him to mention anything more, her nerves alight.

Finally, he does. He says, “Well, I appreciate it nonetheless. You’re a really good friend. Did you know that?”

Akane beams at him. It feels good to hear it as much as it hurts. 

…

Ume loves the camera. Even more so, is she overjoyed that Nekomaru is here to give it to her. As she parades the house in a cute dress given to her by one of her friends, she holds a cake-filled spoon in one hand, and uses the polaroid in another. Several photos are taken, of the few, but meaningful gifts she received, or her family, or even Sonia, posing youthfully in each one.

Hours after the party began, Akane sits in the kitchen and eyes the clock with a watchful stare. Her siblings and Nekomaru remain in the backyard as seen through the smudged kitchen windows. It’s a crowded space, filled with extra things they can’t fit in the house and dirt. He’s crouched over as Ume fiddles with the camera. The rest of them wait for what’s going to happen. Even Satoshi, as skeptical as he is, seems invested. The sky grows into a sandy grey behind them.

It’s been an eventful week. But it’s over now, she tells herself. Everything is fine. So why does it feel off? Why isn’t she happy? The plan is over. If anything, returning to her previous life should feel like relief. It doesn’t. Why does it feel like, despite all they’ve said, that they’re lying to each other?

“Akane,” she hears Sonia, as she moves into the kitchen. “Why are you stuck inside?”

“Oh - yeah,” Akane says, “In a bit. I’m just watchin’.”

“Do you mind if I join you then?” 

In response, Akane pulls out a chair for Sonia to sit in. The two women don’t speak for a moment, content to watch the others from inside. Whatever Ume was trying works, and she squints behind the camera, taking a surprise photo of Haruo. The sound of her squabbling siblings can be heard all the way from here. Sonia laughs. Akane only cracks a smile.

“I wanted to thank you for inviting me,” Sonia tells her at last. “I know this week hasn’t been the easiest. I… haven’t helped in that regard, I’m aware. But you invited me anyway, and because of that, I’ve gotten to meet all of your lovely siblings.”

 Akane only shakes her head. How does Sonia make everything sound like a post card? 

“Of course I invited ya,” Akane scratches behind her ear. “You’ve gotta tell the people in Novoselic what crappy neighborhoods in Tokyo are like.”

“I will,” Sonia smiles, though she obviously doesn’t agree with the sentiment. 

“And there’s this park. I gotta show you next time you visit. Me and the lil ones went there all the time when I was training. Nidai would come sometimes too,” Akane says, reminiscing. 

The old playset had been replaced in the years to come. When Akane was a child, it was older and rickety and had splinters. She’s glad it was made into plastic by the time her siblings grew up. One particular time in high school, when Nekomaru came along, he played as a monster as her siblings screamed with delight on the platforms above him. They were so little back then.

“And besides, you didn’t ruin anything,” Akane continues, voice more pulled away. “Like, things with Nidai. They’re back to normal.”

“They are?”

“Yeah,” Akane nods, “We talked a few nights ago. It was good.”

“I’m very glad to hear that, Akane,” Sonia says. 

“Nothin’ happened. I guess no more bullshit, is what we decided,” Akane says, rolling her shoulders, “And I dunno, I guess I feel better. Plus, I already realized I didn’t have to force any of that other stuff. We’re friends. That’s never gonna change.”

Sonia watches her carefully. Her smile feels taut, fragile. Akane doesn’t like it. “You shouldn’t have to force yourself into a role that you don’t see yourself in. I’m very happy for you two.”

“Yeah,” Akane says, and tugs on the sleeve of her jacket. Something is wrong. She feels it, twitching in her gut. Is Sonia upset about the plans? She seemed fine at the bridge. Is that what this is about? Or is Akane upset, because something feels wrong and she won’t let it be?

Akane’s mind scrambles, suddenly desperate to grant itself some kind of answer. Sonia glances down at the tablecloth, then back at Akane. Her eyes are full and wide. Someone cheers in the background, and goes ignored by the two in the kitchen. 

“But… I suppose there was something on my mind,” Sonia gives in, slowly. “I-I was only going to ask. What of your feelings?”

Akane says, “I told you, I’m not doing that romantic comedy thing anymore.“

“But this isn’t about the plan. This is about your feelings for him,” Sonia says.

Nekomaru laughs at something Haruo said. Akane’s hands flatten against the table and she stares at Sonia, stupefied. “Whatever I feel, he doesn’t have to feel anything back. That’s… not his job.”

“Are you sure?”

Akane doesn’t answer. The sounds outside the kitchen window nearly cause her to flinch. Nekomaru mentions something about posture. Juno laughs. They’re so close by that any minute now, one of them could run in through the door, or maybe one of her stepmoms will return, or maybe-

“I’m sorry, Akane, but I cannot just sit here and watch as you lose something you never even got to have. Are you - Are you sure you want this?” Sonia asks. 

“I…” Akane swallows. “All I wanted was to be there for him. We talked about it. Isn’t that enough?”

Because what else is she supposed to do? Humiliate herself again? Follow the steps of someone who, by all accounts, doesn’t know her that well? Or worse, follow her own intuition, her own feelings. Feelings she still couldn’t fully unravel, or understand. 

But one thing is clear. Sonia knows something she doesn’t.

“What the hell’s going on?” Akane snaps, causing an already frazzled Sonia to back away slightly in her chair. 

“Akane…”

“No, because you can’t hide things from me either. Why’re you even telling me this?”

“Because I…” Sonia says, slowly and gently, “Because I was there when he said he was in love with you.”

It’s at that moment that Sonia seems to have regretted saying anything at all. It’s too late. The truth has already started to spin out of control, and all Akane can do is blurt out a small:

“What?”

“It - It was a long time ago. In third year at Hope’s Peak. I’m not even certain he feels the same way anymore,” Sonia’s voice is shaking. She regrets doing this. Akane doesn’t care. “I’d been early to class one day. Chiaki and him were already there, just talking. And while they never noticed me, I… heard them.”

Akane almost can’t believe it. Is that how close they were? That he’d just keep it from her and continue on with his life? And here she’d be, none the wiser. Oblivious, unaware, typical Akane.

“Goddamn it,” she whispers. 

“It’s possible, like I said, that he may not feel the same way anymore,” Sonia says.

“Who cares about that?” Akane hisses, “When he told me no more secrets? I thought … I thought..! Damn it.”

“No, it’s alright-”

It’s not. “I… I don’t -” Her head sinks between her hands. Every breath is fragmented. When she glances up, Sonia appears close to tears. 

“Oh, Akane,” Sonia murmurs, “I shouldn’t have said anything. I am truly sorry. I’m so…”

“Why did you wanna help me, Sonia?” Akane asks, “Because you wanted to play around with me?”

Sonia shakes her head adamantly. She cries, “That’s not it at all.”

“I’m all messed up now. I was fine before, and … I dunno what to do anymore,” Akane’s previous angers dulls into something colder, sharper. She doesn’t care if it hurts anyone. She just needs it out of her mouth.

“I was caught up in the moment, but that’s no excuse. I am truly sorry. I’ll do anything to help you,” Sonia tries, “Please.”

When her hand snakes across the table to land near Akane’s, she yanks it back, and slams her fists on the table, shaking the glasses of water that sit there. “No!” Akane hisses, “Why are you telling me these things when you can’t even talk to Nanami?”

“I-”

“I know,” Akane says, “You’re just a coward.”

The tangled words leave the both of them in silence. Sonia, in tears, struggles to breathe as she retracts her hand. Akane’s mind is blank. It’s only the opening door that catches their attention.

“Owari, I was just-” Nekomaru is halfway through the frame when he notices Sonia, then Akane, and he closes the door behind him. “What happened? Nevermind, are you-”

“I am alright,” Sonia nods, and as if this were her cue to leave, smiles as she quickly gathers her things. “I do have to go. I have a flight tomorrow. But this was a very lovely party. Goodbye.”

Just like that, Sonia leaves through the kitchen and through the front door. She’s gone. Akane is barely cognizant herself. She looks at Nekomaru as if he’s a stranger that just showed himself through the doorway. He looks at her with nothing but concern.

“Owari?”

When the rest of her siblings follow him inside as an oblivious parade, she pretends he never looked at her at all.

…

The party is over. Ume doesn’t need to know what happened half an hour ago and Akane is glad she doesn’t. She’s happy, talking Yuna’s ear off about some manga she bought earlier today. It’s winding down at night. She hasn’t looked outside in a while. Inside the kitchen where she’s stayed, Akane’s head may still be spinning, but that’s no reason to stop herself from eating as much leftover cake as she can.

Nekomaru, for some reason, hasn’t gotten the hint and gone home yet. While he’s bothering one of her siblings instead, Akane idly begins to glance around the kitchen. There’s a dead bulb in one of the light sockets. She knows the faucet has been having problems lately. Maybe she’ll look at it later.

“Akane,” she hears, and turns around to face him. It’s Satoshi. He’s got the expression she doesn’t like, a judgemental little thing he’s carried with him since he was below her hip. “What happened with your friend earlier?” 

“Nothin.’ It’s fine. Hey, does the faucet need to be fixed?”

“Akane.”

“What?” she asks, realizing that despite her smile, she’d slammed the fridge too hard by mistake. She’s not hiding it good enough. Why, when it was so easy before? When she walks past her brother into the hall, he follows her.

He calls out, “I was just wondering what happen-”

They both stop when they come across Ume and Nekomaru, speaking together near the front door. Her hands are on her camera, which strapped to her neck, and her excitement is enough to calm Akane for a moment.

She says, “I really can’t thank you enough, Nidai-kun. I felt so bad when I lost the last camera you gave me.”

“Hah, it’s no problem! Just try not to lose this one.”

She nods with a bright smile, before she thinks for a moment. “Are you sure you have to leave now? Don’t you want some more cake?”

“I’m sorry, I just have a schedule to tend to. But it was great to see you all!! We’ll have to do this again,” Nekomaru says “Now if I could just find your sister. OWAR-”

His loud call is cut short when he sees her and Satoshi only a couple of feet away, slightly obscured by the hallway’s shroud of shadow.

“Oh, there you are,” he says, causing Ume to laugh. Akane can feel Satoshi’s eyes burning into her skull. “Well Owari, I’m gonna head out. Come with me to the station?”

She shouldn’t say yes. She doesn’t trust herself enough to say yes. But she says it anyway, and soon leaves with him out the door, taking her jacket with her.

…

They’ve done this too many times to count in the past, in the years at and after Hope’s Peak. There’s a train station not much of a walk away. Usually, Akane would have the lil ones around her shoulders, or sometimes they’d sit on Nekomaru’s instead, as she walked with him to say goodbye.

This is no different. At least, it shouldn’t feel any different. But the lil ones aren’t here anymore, and there’s a tension that hasn’t dissipated since Sonia ran from the home hours ago. No doubt is the princess an anxious mess on her bed, watching movies to be less miserable. Akane doesn’t like that mental image at all. Does she want Sonia to be miserable? It’s not as if she purposely went out to destroy Akane’s life. 

Her hands clench as she walks. They’re in the nicer part of the slums. Graffiti and upturned trashcans in the alleyways are a common sight. A feeble stray cat bounds across their path, catching Nekomaru’s attention. They haven’t talked in a few minutes. Or rather, she hasn’t.

“You should have been out in the backyard with us, Owari,” he says, “We hung up a lot of the paper lanterns! When you get home, you should look at them.”

She glances at him while they walk. She’s got an incredulous expression that has Nekomaru frowning when he catches her eye. 

“Why weren’t you with us?” he asks her, a bit accusatorily. “You were with Nevermind, and when I came in… It looked like you were fighting.”

“I guess we were. Why’s everyone so interested?”

“Well, I guess I’m just confused. I didn’t even know the two of you were friends until a few days ago.”

“Okay,” she says. Does it matter? “And you’re friends with Nanami and Souda and probably every single one of them so can you let it rest?”

Nekomaru nearly laughs, out of surprise rather than actual amusement. She walks a bit faster, as if desperate to get away from him. Of course, this doesn’t work, and he catches up to her from behind, voice sobering.

“Shit, Owari. What happened? I had a really great time today.”

They’re a few blocks from the station now. Akane is counting the steps she takes until she can say goodbye. Then maybe, she can think about something else, if that’s even possible. Probably not. There’s a lack of civilians around them tonight. The old neighborhood is even more of a ghost town now than when Akane used to fear it was. 

She barely spoke to Nekomaru at the party, despite inviting him to it. After Sonia left, there was no way she wanted to be in the same room alone with him. Walking, while it gives her something to focus on that isn’t him, or the memory, or Sonia’s departure, prevents her from attacking him head-on, does little to ease her weariness. She feels tethered to the ground from the sky, pressed into the concrete, despite doing everything she can to keep moving her legs.

“Owari,” Nekomaru’s voice comes again, louder to grab her attention. She stops. And when she looks in front of her, she realizes they’re in front of the park. That park. The plastic playset still stands the same, glinting in the pale moonlight, though Nekomaru shows little care for it. He’s too focused on her.

“What?” she asks. She’s still looking at the playground.

From where they are at the edge of the park, several trees sprout around them. Nekomaru follows her line of sight, but returns his intense gaze to Akane once again. “Look, can we just talk about it? I thought things were okay between us again.”

Akane walks and goes to stand in the grass. She can practically feel Nekomaru’s frustration simmering behind her. She shouldn’t act. She shouldn’t jump to conclusions. No, that’s the old Akane.

Old Akane. New Akane. She doesn’t know anymore. It doesn’t matter. All she knows is the twitch of her fingers as Nekomaru comes closer, her hackles raising.

He says, “If you’re going to straight up ignore me, fine, but just know I don’t appreciate being iced out like this. Especially after all the progress we’ve made.”

And that’s all it takes. Akane grits her teeth, and with a solid swing, kicks her leg around to hit Nekomaru’s side. He’s caught off guard, but manages to stay upright.

“Owari! What are you-”

“You’re iced out?!” she snaps, surging forward with a twist of her body, kicking again. He dodges this time. He’s frazzled. “What about me? Huh?! What about me, Nidai?!”

She punches him on the arm. Again, then again. He blocks her. She screams, red-faced, and doesn’t remember being this angry in years. It falls out of her like vomit onto the grass. He keeps dodging. She gets angrier, until the two of them crash against the nearest tree. The branches shake, falling leaves cascading down their backs.

“Stop it!” Nekomaru shouts, “Just because we used to train like this, it doesn’t mean you get to throw punches out of nowhere!”

“I don’t care!”

“You-”

Before she attacks again, Akane takes a step backward, breathing heavily. She’ll strike him soon, but he’s wary. Hesitant. Too good to fight with her now, is he? Too good, and full of feelings?

She feels sick.

“You said no more secrets,” Akane bites out. Her words shake, “You promised me that. But then you don’t tell me about your heart, and you don’t tell me that…”

She can’t bring herself to say it, as if repeating it will make it reality. If it is, what does that say about her? About the two of them, and all that follows? Nekomaru shares in her strained silence until he breaks it.

“That what?” he asks.

Akane stares. The minute holds, until it feels like five, until five feels like ten. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Akane’s words appear as a faulty whisper. Her fingers tremble, aching from her punches, and she looks at him for anything other than ignorance or shock. Nekomaru is wordless before she sees the faint sign of something clearer. He understands.

And maybe that’s too much for her. Maybe she’s had enough of all of this. Akane grounds herself, screams, and flies forward. Her fist soars ahead of her, outstretched-

And he catches it, his palm covering her wrist. Akane could easily break free. Her other arm isn’t held. Her legs are planted on the grass. They stare at each other like there is nothing else to say. With his back nearly against a tree, Nekomaru is covered in shadow not much unlike the rest of the park. 

His hand lessens in its grasp. Each of his fingers are gentle around her skin, and every flicker of anger, intense and small, leaves and falls through the cracks of the ground. He lets go. It’s when Nekomaru places his free hand near Akane’s shoulder, below her jawline, that she feels everything telling her to move. She does, and kisses him. 

His reaction is immediate, all-fire, a desperation she hasn’t felt from him before. Nekomaru pulls her close and kisses her back. She pushes him against the tree, pulls him down to her level, and breaks only a moment before returning. He’s all around her, touch consuming. The cracks form and break and form again in the intakes of their frantic, panicked breaths.

It feels like a firecracker was lit alight in her chest when his hand moves to her hair. Her own hands map across his chest to up over his neck, desperate to grab and hold on. The feelings are too much. Akane wishes that this doesn’t mean as much as it does. But touch doesn’t matter as long as its with him. She wants so much that she didn’t realize she wanted.

Nekomaru cradles her face and he kisses her one last time before letting go. His hand remains there against her cheek. They’re forehead to forehead, breaths evening out against each other. His eyes are closed until he pulls away. He smiles warmly at her, she finds herself nearly grinning back, and she trusts him so completely that her heart aches. 

“Owari, I…” his smile fades when he looks at her for too long, his words pulled back, replaced with something else. A cold, frantic expression. His hand falls from her face, slow in its removal, as if the action had taken everything from him to do. “I can’t do this.”

The words don’t register for a moment. Akane stalls, “You can't what?”

“I'm sorry. I can’t. It’s not in your best interest.”

“Best interest…” Akane says, “You’re not my manager anymore. You haven’t been for years. That’s what you’re worried about?”

“It’s not just that.”

“Then what? You- You can’t do this,” Akane squeezes her burning eyes shut. “Nekomaru, please.”

Nekomaru stalls. When he hears his first name, he looks as if he could bring her closer again, but he doesn’t. Instead, he places his hand on her own, over his chest. Every action seems carefully placed, hesitant. 

“You and I both know something,” Nekomaru finally says, “I’m on borrowed time. What kind of person would I be to get in a relationship now when I could die within the year? Why would I do that to you?”

“That doesn’t matter,” Akane shakes her head. She steps back, hands straight by her sides.

Nekomaru seethes, “It does matter! If I die on you, and we’re together, I would never be able to forgive myself. Years have passed since I was your manager, sure, but that doesn’t mean my selfishness should hurt you.”

“So I’m something to be protected instead? So you can feel better about yourself?” Akane’s throat feels tight, swollen. Any minute, and she’ll break apart. “Did you ever even trust me?”

“Of course I trust you,” Nekomaru says, “But I don’t expect you to understand-”

“Then make me understand!” 

Nekomaru reels back. Akane watches him. The distance between them had never seemed more long than it does now. Her breath is heavy. He’s not breathing at all.

“I’m afraid,” is what he finally tells her.

Akane had been ready for anything, but she can’t find a response to that. Years ago, when she was young and dumb and full of life, she wouldn’t have thought twice about it. Nekomaru Nidai, afraid. The thought was ludicrous. Make believe. She would have laughed, maybe, and rolled around and ran off to do something else.

But here she is, and here they are, and she’s never felt more resentful of her younger self than she does in this moment. 

Akane creeps forward. He takes a step back.

“I’m going to miss my train,” he says. 

Her heart sinks. Everything inside of Akane screams to keep going, to rip, to tear, to kiss him again. She could, if she truly wanted to. Or if she wasn’t so scared herself. 

Akane finally nods. She wants to cry. She doesn’t.

“Okay,” Akane tells him, “Go catch it.”

Chapter Text

As Akane arrives back home - not the apartment - but home, she’s greeted by an already cleaned kitchen and a numbness in her brain. 

Most of her siblings are packed away in the few rooms the house has, which makes her introduction a peaceful one. She flicks on the lights around the faucet. It’s about the only thing she can allow herself to focus on, that sink. It splashed her with water hours earlier, and had frequently been a source of problems in the house before that. Household projects haven’t been Akane’s speciality in the past, but she shouldn’t let that stop her now. Akane kneels and opens the cabinet, when a voice behind her says:

“Oh, Akane. Why are you here?”

Akane swivels around on the floor to see her. Above her, some ways away by the door, is Haruka, her first stepmom and the mother of Ume, Juno, and Haruo. She’s a late shift worker at the local factory. By the way she’s holding the housekeys in her hand, she must have just returned home. 

“I’m fixin’ the sink,” Akane says bluntly. 

“I would have thought you’d gone to your apartment.”

“Do you want me there?”

Haruka doesn’t answer immediately. She concedes with a small, “No, you’re fine.”

Akane dislikes how frigid the air feels around her stepmoms. Haruka especially, manages to set Akane on edge. She’s sure Haruka feels the same way. It brings back memories of screaming matches in their old house, or being kicked out in the rain shortly afterward. She doesn’t know how many times she got sick from that sort of thing happening. 

And Akane is tired. She is so worn thin she feels like bits of string. She can’t afford a fight now. For god’s sake, it’s still her little sister’s birthday.

“There’s some leftover cake in the fridge,” she tells her instead.

…

Akane spends an hour on the sink before she falls asleep on the kitchen floor. She wakes up with drool on her arm and a sleepy feeling in her wrist and left foot. She doesn’t know how long she slept, but it was long enough to see dawn streak through the glass into the kitchen’s windows. The tile is cold against her arms, even through her jacket’s sleeves. 

She pulls herself up. The cold, crippling anxiety when she does is almost enough to bring her down again. There are a scattered assortment of metal parts by the sink. Now, if she’d been born Kazuichi Souda, the sink would have been fixed by now, but she’d been born Akane Owari and couldn’t “fix” things without breaking them first. 

Still, it’s there. 

She takes one of the metal parts and a flathead screwdriver, unscrewing at the faucet and hoping she doesn’t unhinge it. It’s a little hard to see in the dark, even with the overhead light. The sounds of feet padding make it into the room. What Akane thought was Haruka coming for her morning coffee, was Ume. Her footsteps were different from her mom’s. 

“Akane?” she asks, voice groggy.

“Sink was weird.”

“Oh,” Ume murmurs. She shuffles to the fridge, opens it, and pours herself a glass of something. “I didn’t think you’d come home.”

Why does everyone think that? 

“How was your birthday?” Akane asks her.

“Good!” Ume hums appreciatively, “Thank you for everything. It was nice being with everyone. Meeting your friend Sonia. Seeing Nidai-kun.”

Akane’s hand clenches around the screwdriver. She shouldn’t be holding it in the near dark. Ume continues to sip at the drink she’s poured herself. She yawns and sets down the glass.

“He’s always been really good to us, hasn’t he?”

“What are you two doing in here?” someone new asks.

That someone comes to Akane’s rescue in the form of Satoshi. When he arrives, however, Akane remembers yesterday and the brief encounter they shared the day previous. The anxiety crawls back again. She stands up to her feet, wrench in her hand.

“I’m fixin-”

“She’s fixing the sink,” Ume finishes for her.

“Well, you can’t really do that in the dark,” Satoshi says skeptically.

“I’ll turn on the light then.”

“Akane…”

Akane takes herself to where Satoshi stands, by the lightswitch, and flips it on. She stares at him blankly, before taking herself back to the faucet, and getting back to work. With her back turned against her siblings, she pretends not to notice when they speak to each other, voices hushed under their breaths.

“Something happened last night,” Satoshi says.

“Yeah, I thought so. There’s not much else we can say to her though. When she’s like that, she won’t listen to anyone.”

Akane can feel the muscles in her shoulders clench at Ume’s words. She’s not angry, no. If she is, never at them. But if they don’t leave the room-

“Excuse me, you two,” another voice joins the others. Haruka again. Akane can hear her kiss the top of her daughter’s head. “Happy birthday, Ume.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

There’s a few seconds of blissful silence. Then, to her left, she sees Haruka tending to the coffee maker, and then turning to her.

“Akane, the sink.”

Akane looks at her.

“Could I use the sink? I need it for the coffee,” Haruka reminds her.

“Just use another sink."

She ignores her. “It wasn’t broken before.”

“It had a leak,” Akane says.

“So you take it apart with a wrench?” Haruka asks, “The least you could have done is pay for a repairman with that Olympic money.”

“I’m-” Akane breathes in. The coldness of the air hits the back of her throat. “I’m trying. I’m doing the best I can.”

“You obviously don’t know what you’re doing. Let me.”

“No!” Akane snaps, “I need to do this!”

“Akane-”

And before Akane realizes it, her hands have snapped the faucet’s tip off into the basin of the sink. It clinks and dances across the metal surface before coming to a restful stop. She stares in horror. Haruka looks on with unsurprised disappointment.

“Look what you’ve done,” Haruka says. While Akane is weak, she takes the wrench from her hand and places it on the sink. “I hope we don’t have to call a repairman because of this.”

“I-I… I didn’t mean to-” Akane squeezes out, and with the energy she has left, steps away from the sink. 

She needs to go. Where, she doesn’t know. But she can’t go there. No, not to her apartment. But she doesn’t feel welcome anywhere else. Akane simply turns and pivots, opening the door to the backyard and shutting it tight behind her.

No one follows her outside. They’re no doubt invested in the mess she’s created. In the early late October morning, the sky appears dark and grey. Bits of sun continue their dance to the grass. It’s a small, boxed in backyard. Akane never liked it as a teenager, but there were areas she could parkour from if she tried. She realizes just then, that she doesn’t remember when the last time she scaled a building was.

Is that sad? Does she feel anything about that at all?

She presses her shoe into the dewey dirt. It’s flattened down from what used to be fresh grass. Too many feet over the years paved it over nice and smooth. She moves her foot across, back and forth, and thinks about the kiss. She can’t help it anymore. Everything falls out of her gradually. Regrets and tears and broken promises. The way it felt, how she wanted nothing else. How he said he loved her, and how he hid so much from her in the same breath.

And Akane can’t deal with that. She just can’t. This isn’t before or even a few days ago. Big feelings or otherwise, it doesn’t matter anymore. There isn’t anything to confess because she’s already gone and foolishly spilled herself. There isn't much left to say because Nekomaru closed that door before she could think to follow him. 

But he’s afraid, and he still loves her. 

She needs to stop. Thinking about this will only frustrate her more. So Akane focuses. Across the fence, above the shitty shed in the back, are the paper lanterns swaying gently by the wind. She’s almost surprised they’re all still hanging, when she sees one of them nearly deflated on the ground a few feet away. 

Akane can’t fix things. She gets up and walks to it anyway. It’s slightly wet from the ground, and folded over on one side. Luckily, it has a small hook on the top that fits seamlessly across the string holding the rest of the lanterns. She lets it go, and it slides in next to its brothers and sisters, joining them in the wind. 

“Thanks for that.”

Akane jumps. Behind her when she turns around is Satoshi. She relaxes when she realizes it’s just him. That doesn’t mean she’s at ease.

“Though I don't think they should be up for that much longer,” he adds, coming up to lightly touch the bottom of a lantern. “They’re all gonna fall down otherwise.”

“It’s okay. It’s for Ume’s birthday,” Akane says.

Satoshi doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he lets go of the lantern and lets it swing and knock against the others. The wind is picking them up again.

“She wanted to show you the pictures she took,” is what he tells her.

“Then she should.”

“She feels awkward about it, I think,” Satoshi says, “Considering, well, everything.”

“I still wanna see them. Where is she?”

“With Haruka.”

Akane winces. Knowing her sister, she’s probably attempting to convince her mom not to fix the sink herself, or call someone. The knife twists further. “I’m sorry. About the sink.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“No, really. I’m…” Akane takes a deep breath that tumbles out of her. “I’m sorry, Satoshi.”

Satoshi isn’t able to form a response. The rest of the backyard feels secondary to the thrumming in Akane’s head, like a incessant tap-tap noise that won’t go away. Her fingers are tightly pressed together in balls against her sides. Akane breathes in, then out.

“I know you’ve been tryin’ with me. I know you wanna talk.”

“It’s okay,” Satoshi says.

She looks away from Satoshi. All he’ll do is deny her. But she’s right. If she just didn’t listen to her gut, if she didn’t involve Sonia, if she simply left it alone. Tried something normal. Stuffed it down. Maybe she wouldn’t feel like this now, worn with so much fear it threatens to drown her from the inside out. 

She continues, “No, it’s not. I haven’t been there for you. Not really. Not like I should’ve. And the sink.”

“Akane.”

This time, she looks at her brother. He’s dead serious, brown eyes intense with interest. Her hands are trembling. She has to hide it. Despite her wants to, Satoshi sees her, and the way she shakes, the unshed tears in her red eyes. He doesn’t look at her any different than he would any other Sunday.

“I want you to look at the house. Remember our old one?” Satoshi asks instead.

Akane rubs against her mouth, merely humming in response. He must expect her to go along with this, because she’s too tired to fight back anymore. 

“Remember how bad it was? There were slats in the roof. We had rats,” he continues, “Back when it was just us, Ume, and Juno, there was this one stray dog that lived in the alley nearby. It always barked at us, and I was pretty scared of it.”

“Really? That’s news to me.” Akane’s throat is constricted and raw. 

He says, “Well, I pretended I wasn’t. Anyway, it stopped bothering us because you got in the way. You yelled at it enough to where it actually chased you. I never saw it again after that.”

“Oh,” Akane hums. She’s been chased by and chased too many dogs to fully remember. “Why’re you telling me this?”

“Because you need to realize something. We’ll be fine.”

Akane balks, her words going dark.  “Huh?”

“I’ve gotten better at fixing things around the house anyway. Plus, there’s seven of us. Better luck that way if anything happens when you’re not here.”

“I-I don’t…”

“Akane, you’ve been watching over us our entire lives,” Satoshi says, “But what about you? When’s it going to be your turn?”

And for once, Akane doesn’t know what to say to him. She sniffs, rubs at her eyes. When Satoshi holds her shoulder, she remembers suddenly how he looked as a baby. How much older he is now. She realizes that all she’s done since she was seven is want him to be okay. But he is okay, isn’t he?

“I want you to be happy too,” he tells her, and it’s over.

The tears fall, mournful and quick down her cheeks. It falls out of her. Years of crying alone, in dark rooms when no one was around, in alleyways when she was a child, in the bedroom of her lonely apartment with a medal as company. Crippling shame, and guilt, and love. Satoshi places his hand on her shoulder. He doesn’t crowd her, or hold her. He simply lets her cry.

Minutes pass and roll away. When it’s over, she’s still sniffling, rubbing at her nose and face. Akane feels the numbness leave her in waves. With its exit, comes clarity. With clarity, comes action. Akane looks up from the long grass to Satoshi and before she does, she catches in the reflection of a discarded watering can: herself. 

Wild, messy hair and red-rimmed eyes. She looks younger than she is and how she feels. This girl, no longer a stranger, looks back at her. Maybe she’d called herself weak, some time ago. But when she blinks away from her reflection to face her baby brother, Akane thinks to herself that maybe, just maybe, she hadn’t been weak all along, that maybe “weakness” was good, in some ways.

Satoshi stares at her, brown eyes in waiting. There’s still something else pressing on her mind.

“Hey,” She says weakly, “What time is it?”

“It’s about noon. Why?”

She leaves soon, is her first thought. A phone call isn’t enough. Today is also not every day that Akane feels as urgently as she does now. This is do or die. She needs to act, to mend, to fix. Before it’s too late, and she’ll never have the courage again.

With a final sniff, Akane asks, “Did Ume already print all her pictures?”

…

Akane takes the train. She doesn’t care that she barely uses it because she’s using it now, and she feels her heartbeat rock inside her chest like a stray pebble. Akane feels stupid, red-faced and she couldn’t care less. She doesn’t have a watch. On the electronic screen of the train, 1:05 flashes on the screen. Sonia’s probably left the hotel room by now. Goddamn it.

The tiny printed polaroid shines in her fingers. She just hopes she makes it in time.

When she arrives at the street the hotel is on, she books it to the doors, swinging them wide, disturbing the peace of the guests as they mingle in the lobby. Sonia’s high up. She doesn’t have time for the stairs. Swallowing her pride, Akane chooses the elevator.

It’s a long way up. No one stands in the elevator with her. Either she’s lucky or no one wanted to, she doesn’t care. She needs to find Sonia. She needs to talk to her, though she doesn’t know what she’ll say, or how she’ll say it. 

The hum of the elevator quickens. Akane’s clammy hands bound together under the fluorescent lights, under the steady whirring of machinery up ahead. She closes her eyes and when the door opens-

Sonia stands there, hand outstretched toward the buttons on the 12th floor.

Akane stares. Sonia’s feet carry her backward toward the dual pairs of elevators. Her shoes skid on the tile. Every word, or idea, or apology trapped inside Akane’s mouth shrivels and dries up without any fanfare. 

When the doors close on their own, both of them cry out, and Akane pushes forth, holding the doors open with her hands until they slide back into place. She breathes, breathes harder, before she steps out with shaky legs. 

“Hey, Sonia. Glad I caught ya,” she says casually. Sonia is too stunned to speak. She’s surrounded by luggage, but enough to pull around on her own. Her dress is pulled at by her anxious hands. 

“Akane,” Sonia murmurs, “I-I don’t know what to say. Have you really come all this way? For me?”

“Yeah,” Akane smiles.

Sonia looks at her, at the elevator, and back at Akane again.

“I am sorry, but if I am to reach my flight on time, I must-” Sonia’s lips quiver as she goes to move around Akane. However, the act of meeting Akane’s eyes has her stopping in place. She says, “I cannot cause you more problems than I have already! Akane… I am-”

“I’m the one that’s sorry,” Akane says.

“No. You had every right. All I did was get involved in something I had no right to get involved in. I overstepped, and for that I am truly-”

“I’ve got it.”

Sonia pauses, “What?”

“I’m gonna be okay,” Akane tells her. “You didn’t ruin anything. Maybe I still don’t get a lot of stuff… But I know I’m right about this.”

“Akane…”

Akane crosses the small distance between them, opens up Sonia’s hands, and places the photos between her fingers. The polaroid is of the two of them at the birthday party, talking in some corner with slices of cake on little plates. While unaware of the photo being taken, the two of them smile anyway. Sonia gingerly touches the side of the polaroid, breath quivering.

“Cool, huh? She’s good with the photos,” Akane says, “Anyway, I want you to have it.”

Sonia wipes at her eyes, trembling. She nods. Her words are swollen with coming tears. Another pause lingers. Akane can hear the hum of the second elevator a hallway away.

“But yeah. I wanted to tell you. Don’t run away.”

“What?”

“You can’t. You still have time, right? You have to use it now.”

“I-I have a few hours-” Sonia shakes her head fervently, “No, I can’t. I’m… I’m too much of a coward. I won’t even know how to confront her.”

Akane finds her words, wobbly as they are. “You’re… Not a coward for having feelings. Maybe I used to think that, but I was wrong.”

Sonia comes closer, careful not to touch her, but her eyes are downcast. She teeters slightly, off balance. 

“You love her,” Akane says, “You do, right?”

“I-I do,” Sonia admits.

“Then you gotta talk to her.”

“But I-"

“You have to. Or else what? You’ll let yourself be like this forever?” 

“What will I even say?” Sonia asks tearfully, “What if it’s worse than I imagined? How could I cope in that reality?”

“You’re never gonna know until you just say it. Even if it’s stupid,” Akane says, “Even if it’s big feelings. Or you just wanna yell at her. But you have to do it for your sake. No plans. Just do it.”

Sonia doesn’t rebuke her. Deep down, she must know she’s right. It happens naturally, after a chance for Akane to say no, that Sonia slowly embraces her. This time, Akane’s head lays on her shoulder. It’s a quiet hug. It decompresses something inside of her. This touch feels safe. The princess’ hands hold tight around the photo against her back. Her words are quiet, shaking, with resolve. 

When they let go and Sonia blinks away more tears, her smile is bright, if not the slightest bit sad. She pulls out her phone, and with a few clicks, puts it down again. 

“I’m going to talk to her,” Sonia says. She stands straighter, urgent. “And thank you, Akane, for showing me the real you.”

When Sonia goes to stand in the elevator, her luggage standing with her, it hits Akane just then how much she’s going to miss her when she’s gone. The princess smiles, eyes bright with relieved tears, and the elevator doors shut. There’s a hum, a thunk, and the elevator begins its descent. Akane is alone on the 12th floor.

There’s a relief there. She convinced her. Perhaps now Sonia could fix what was broken. That’s not for Akane to know. At least, not now. She can only wish her the best and move on. After all, there’s one last thing to do.

Akane pulls out her phone. 

She doesn’t like that running for miles and catching a train to a fancy hotel is easier than sending a single text message. Her hands are trembling. No matter how much time passes, she still hates texting the most. Before she can change her mind, Akane presses call and pushes the phone to her ear. 

It dials, dials-

Click.

“Owari,” Nekomaru murmurs. He’s at a bit of a loss. “Is everything alright?”

“I need to talk to you,” Akane says. 

“If it’s about yesterday-”

“Can I see you?”

There’s a bout of silence on the other side. Akane waits. As she does, the diamond-shaped wallpaper of the hotel shifts and bleed into the sides of her vision. Her shoes are scuffed with dirt from the morning. Eventually, she hears him. It’s a hesitant, yielding “yes.”

…

It’s been an hour. It feels like ten. When Akane arrives at the given address, she stands in front of a simple enough group of apartment buildings. They’re boxier than expected, close to the ground and less crowded than the rest of the city. White and green in color. Humble. Akane lets out a shaky breath as she reaches the second floor. She feels like she’s about to drop dead. 

There’s a part of her that doesn’t want to go through with it. Her adrenaline from the morning has drained away. She moves by compulsion, by a mission, but there isn’t anything holding her back save for the raw, dripping fear that hasn’t left since she first learned of Nekomarus’ condition a week ago. She knows she has to do this, but Akane hasn’t felt this exhausted in years. 

He told her the door was open. She doesn’t need to knock. When Akane invites herself inside, she doesn’t see Nekomaru anywhere. The apartment is smaller than hers, ironically. That’s the first thing she notices. While not as roomy, it makes up for it with colorful decorations, photos, as far as the eye can see. Nearly every space of the room, no matter how insignificant, is alive. 

It’s just as she figured it would be. It’s a comforting thought, despite it all.

She finds a photo on the coffee table lying flat on its back. An odd space for a photograph, if she’s ever seen one. When she picks it up, she realizes. It’s the same 4x4 photo as the one in her apartment. Her and Nekomaru at the Olympics, his arm around her shoulders. The two of them, smiling. 

He’d been looking at it.

It’s still locked in her hands when he emerges from the hallway, a towel across his shoulders. His hair is slightly damp from a shower, and he’s wearing nothing but a tank top and sweats. They stare at each other, no need for a formal greeting. When he discards of the towel and folds it away, he simply gathers his breath, walks over to her by the couch, and gestures for her to sit down.

“Do you want me to get you anything?” he asks. She could ask for something to eat. Even now, the urge to gorge herself until she feels nothing remains like a parasite, wriggling in her gut. 

“Nah,” she says, with some restraint. 

When she sits down, he quickly joins her. It’s a tight squeeze. His couch is a bit too small for the two of them. Her arm meets his side, though he attempts a distance. The apartment smells faintly of sandalwood and something floral. Not the most surprising, for him. She hasn’t let go of the photograph yet. Her finger traces on the edges of the frame. Nekomaru notices. 

“I’ve never been here before,” Akane says.

“I’m sure you have.”

“Nope, never.”

Nekomaru looks away. His aura is muted and dull. Akane hates this atmosphere. As brightly as the apartment is lit, she feels as if the blinds are all closed. It’s stuffy. In the same breath, however, she knows that this is the only way.

“It’s nice,” Akane says, “Reminds me of your dorm at Hope’s Peak.”

“Oh?”

“You even have the same weird knick-knacks on the walls.”

Nekomaru doesn’t laugh, but he smiles just slightly. He admits, “I don’t think I’ve seen your apartment either.”

“Huh,” Akane says, “Guess we’re both pretty bad at this.”

The two of them stew in another awkward silence. She sits and thinks about how she’s going to turn this around. He probably wishes that they hadn’t kissed the night before. But she’s here, and he allowed her to be here with him. That has to count for something. Akane feels his eyes on hers before he speaks. 

“What did you want to talk about?” he asks her.

Akane nearly stalls. The apartment is infuriantly quiet, and she tries to hold herself together. This should be easy, she tells herself. After all, helping Sonia had felt like a cake walk in comparison. Hours before that, she’d even cried her eyes out in front of her little brother. Nekomaru should be easy. He’s familiar. He’s Akane’s closest friend. She gathers herself and decides that if she’s going to say something, she has to start now.

“I wanna talk about you,” Akane says. 

Nekomaru winces, “I…I don’t know what else there is to say.”

Akane looks up at him. She has the urge to snap at him, tell him there’s too much to say and he’s an idiot for pushing her away. She doesn’t. She can’t. Akane sets down the photo slowly, making sure its stood up on the table before she leans back.

“We already talked. We did things we shouldn’t have, and I betrayed your trust again,” he continues, “I hope you do know one thing: you did nothing wrong. You had every right to be upset with me.”

“I did a lot wrong,” Akane can’t help but almost laugh, “You don’t know what kind of week I’ve had. I made all these plans. I even went to a spa.”

“What? Is that what the train thing was about?”

She ignores his confusion and says, “I guess I did so much because I wanted to repay you. That’s all I wanted. And I knew you wouldn’t care either way, but I still felt… I dunno, like I had to do something. Even if that something wasn’t me.”

Nekomaru doesn’t respond. Akane grits her teeth. Speaking aloud is almost too difficult. She hopes he understands how hard this is for her. 

“But I think I know now what is. And I know you’re scared,” Akane murmurs, “I’m…scared too, but I can’t just do nothin’ about it anymore.”

“I’m sorry, Owari, but I’m firm about this. It’s just too much of a risk,” he says.

“Then what’s not a risk? Spending all your time with me? With my family?” Akane asks. She points to the photograph on the table, “Going to the Olympics with me?”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“Because I-” Nekomaru’s voice falters. “I already told you that you don’t need to repay me.”

“This isn’t about repayment. This is about you and me,” Akane says.

“Owari…”

A stillness falls upon them both. In the midst of his bright, comforting apartment, Akane thinks about his old dorm, and how she’d sit on his bed upside down as he worriedly filled out calendars and homework sheets at his desk. Akane holds her hands together tightly.

“Do you remember the time I was sick?” she asks. It’s a sudden question, one that has Nekomaru blinking at her. He scoots slightly on the couch, awkward. 

“Yes, I do. You were out for a week. It was pretty bad,” he says.

“You kept checking up on me. That’s your job, yeah I know. But I kept thinking about it anyway. How safe I felt.” Akane’s breath stutters. “And I… Felt like you wanted to be there too. With me.”

“Of course I did,” Nekomaru tells her, “I always do.”

“And do you remember that night by the park, and the lil ones had fallen asleep…” Akane trails off. The memory is still so bright in her mind. “We took them home together, and you called me your best friend. Do you remember that?”

Nekomaru’s exterior is crumbling. His mouth trembles. “I do,” he says. 

“And the time we went to that buffet and got kicked out?”

“Hah, we were terrible,” Nekomaru laughs weakly. There’s a warmth here. The awkwardness leaves the room. She wants to hold onto his laugh. She wants him to do it again. Each time she speaks, she moves a little closer. He doesn’t back away, or push her.  She can feel the heat of his body nearly against her own.

“But we had fun,” Akane says, watching as Nekomaru meets her smile. 

When his hand grazes hers, he stops, and everything tells her that he’ll hold her again like he did the night before. She holds her breath. Nekomaru looks at her softly, then without warning, he goes to stand up instead, hands in his hair, and eyes screwed shut. When he opens them, he seems somewhere else. He glances back at her like it was an apology.

“I’m sorry, I need some fresh air,” he says.

“Wait, what are you-”

“Just need some air!” he repeats, a little louder, like that would make it any better. 

Nekomaru walks from her to open the balcony’s sliding door. Akane scrambles to her feet. He stands just outside the door’s large frame. “How much longer are you going to keep doing this? Tryin’ to protect me when you don’t need to?”

Nekomaru shakes his head. He’s panicking. Her own heartbeat rattles her ribcage with every tremor. It almost seems like a joke. Nekomaru, who cried at movies and valued confrontation, had committed himself to a reality where his own feelings didn’t matter. Akane can’t let him do this. Not to her. Not to himself. 

“Don’t you realize I’d be just as lost without you either way? It doesn’t matter what we are. I still need you.” Akane swallows roughly. “Don’t you want to be happy?”

Still inside, as the fragile wind blows in against her hair, Akane’s frustration builds when Nekomaru stands and ignores her. She straightens up, clenches her fists, and screams out:

“Nekomaru!” 

At last, he looks at her again. He’s at a loss of breath, eyes shining with tears, and Akane figures he’s been on the verge of crying for a while now. One of his hands grips the metal fence as if his life depends on it. The other hangs uselessly by his side. 

Akane, with a tremble in her steps, comes outside to join him. The waning sunlight illuminates the two of them unceremoniously. A dull, dying yellow. Nekomaru looks the most fragile she’s ever seen him. And Akane can’t help it. She doesn’t care. Her tears from the morning return, hot as she blinks them down her cheeks. She sniffs. Nekomaru looks ready to reach out to her, but she can’t let him. Not yet.

Her voice shakes as she says, “I used to think you were invincible back then. I never thought that there was a chance I’d ever lose you. But now I…Do you really expect me to just back away?” 

A few birds chirp, flying past them to another building. The city seems minuscule between the both of them. 

“You make me happy. No one makes me as happy as you do,” Akane stubbornly wipes her eyes with fist, “And I want you to know that any doctor’s visit, or any stupid medical thing, or anywhere, I’m gonna be there.” 

More tears fall. Nekomaru is crying so much his shoulders shake. The tears are fast and flowing down Akane’s own face and she takes a breath. Akane crashes her fist against his arm, enough to catch his attention and cries out.

“I always want to be there! With you! For as long as I can!”

“Akane…” Nekomaru sobs. 

“So please,” she asks. Her hand rubs against his arm where it landed. “Please let me.”

In between heavy tears, Nekomaru looks at her tentatively. Her hand moves up his arm, and while he doesn’t jolt away this time, he places his own hand on top of hers. He begins, voice strained, “Even if I do, for all you know, this week could be my last. You know this, Akane.”

She knows. She knows and doesn’t think that thought will ever leave her mind. There’s always a possibility for heartbreak. But he’s here now, and she’s with him. No matter what happens, Akane knows she’ll love Nekomaru until the day she dies.

She says, smiling, “So let's have a hell of a week.”

When Nekomaru laughs, surprised, she can feel the relief fall off him. With tears still in his eyes, they crash together in a hug, a movement too desperate and loving and thankful to define. There, as Nekomaru weeps into her hair, Akane holds him tighter than she’s held him before. Every side-hug, or brief amount of intense contact over the years, seems miniscule in comparison. This feels like everything she’s missed. 

In the midst of their embrace is when she catches it. Across the sky, miles and miles away, an airplane jets above the clouds. If it’s her flight out there in the sky, Akane only hopes that Sonia caught it after all.

Good luck, Akane wishes, to the both of us.

She turns back to Nekomaru, her hand tight around his. He holds her close and Akane curls against his chest. Through his tears, he kisses her forehead before he pulls her closer again. She thinks to herself how grateful she is for everything he’s chosen to be, and she thinks of herself.

Her hand trails upward toward his chest. Resting there above the fabric, she feels his heartbeat, steady and strong. It’s the reason all of this happened, the reason she’s here. Akane buries her face against him and his heart, as they hold each other in the fading light. 

She’s happy.