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Nighttime was cast over Tokyo. Far aloft the reach of boundless skyscrapers, a waning crescent suspended itself effortlessly, glinting down upon the world that worshipped it so. Escorting the moon were myriad stars, each idiosyncratic to one another, yet refracting through glass, across oceans, and against pavement all the same, coalesced into unknowable splotches of light bedazzling the world. Sheathed from its grace, Shiina Taki retreated beneath underpasses, below rooftops, within the carapace of a late-night train, freed out into the night’s air, up flights of staircases, and at last to her very own front door. In tow, she dragged along a companion—that of Yahata Umiri.
Such was their routine. Seldom had Taki gone more than a week without Umiri’s presence at her side amidst the hours of darkness; in the event that she had, it was not for lack of accompaniment, rather that she trailed Umiri’s side to her very own apartment. Not a secret to their bandmates, the two dedicated ample time to one another, even as Taki found the prospect embarrassing to confess. “We’re dating,” Umiri had oh-so-casually admitted numerous times to her utter mortification, the likes of which she often repaid threefold with a yank to her necklace, a few extra kisses, and nefarious thoughts of a one-day ring.
They were in love. By the time that Taki had lost track of how many days and nights they had brushed skin throughout, she knew how she wished to spend the remainder of her life, who she wished to spend it with. Many a quandary had bent or fractured their bands—neither Ave Mujica nor MyGO!!!!! were prone to utter equanimity—yet, they always had one another. Taki had Umiri.
Umiri, who always worked so hard.
Umiri, who always took care of her.
Umiri, who always eased her troubles.
That evening, Taki dragged Umiri alongside her, beneath overpasses and rooftops, seated adjacent to her on a midnight train. MyGO!!!!! had held a performance that night. Whilst it was not as explosive of a turnabout as Anon had exclaimed it surely would have been, Taki found fulfillment in it, particularly that Umiri awaited her in the crowd until its very end, as she always had. Despite their routine wending as it unremittingly had, it was not as praxis. She gleaned things, small things, little and minute, in how Umiri seemed.
Umiri dawdled as Taki took her hand. She spoke not a single word to the rest of MyGO!!!!! following their showing. She stumbled at the train’s platform. She didn’t look once at Taki during their ride. How unlike her, to have been so inattentive. And so, upon their arrival to Taki’s apartment, she found herself holding the door for Umiri, whereas it had always been contrariwise. With the click of her door’s lock, she took a deep breath.
“Is… everything okay?” Comfort wasn’t her strongsuit—she bit herself for sounding so angular.
“I’m fine,” Umiri nodded, simply hanging up her jacket, and taking a seat atop Taki’s bed. For a moment, she stared into nothingness, eyes not quite meeting her own, nor proffering the intense gaze that combed over her every facet.
That was frustrating. They had been together long enough that Taki knew, and if she refused to confess willingly, then she vowed, ‘I’ll drag it out of you one way or another.’ Sighing a second time, she made her way across the room, grabbing a spare change of clothing left folded atop her desk, thus posited, “Just think about it. I’ll be back shortly, okay?” She received no reply, not that she needed one. But, she postulated that one would have been nice.
Slipping out of her dress, Taki dighted herself in a black, short sleeve shirt, one too large for her form—loose at the shoulders as it was, it was no fault of her own, hitherto having belonged to Umiri—with a complimentary pair of shorts to match. Comfortable and dulcet, she folded her dress and set aside her accessories, returning bedside to find Umiri sat still, perfectly still, not having moved a single centimeter.
‘That’s not like her,’ first came to mind, followed by stewed contemplation over what Umiri would have done. Her proclivity for checking her phone, keeping herself busy, posing in some way charming or goofy to draw Taki’s attention whence she returned—she did none except stand. “What’s wrong?” Taki crossed her arms.
From a stagnating stare to a knitted brow and her focus panning downward, Umiri’s expression changed, concomitant with a subtle curling of her fingertips. She glanced at Taki’s eyes a second time, away, then back again, exhaled so soft she seemed not to breathe at all.
Prompting again, she moved closer, “So…?”
Tears welled in her eyes.
Taki’s throat went taut, mind buzzed. She felt terrible.
Lifting her forearm in a feeble attempt to sweep away oncoming wretchedness, Umiri sniffled once, so began to sob, messily shoving hands to her face. Still, no words came, yet it was impetus enough for Taki to grow overdrawn by guilt.
Governed by prudence, she approached closer, awkwardly placing a palm against her cheek. “Hey, what’s wrong?” she swallowed hard, a pit forming within her. Elegiac, Umiri shook her head, tears streaming faster, so she pulled her into a hug. While Taki would have cursed herself for acting so impulsively, Umiri immediately buried her face against her shoulder and neck, dampening their shirt. “It’s okay,” she whispered all that came natural, running a hand over her back.
Choking sorrow muffled into effusive whimpering, as Umiri hugged her tighter, tighter, tighter, that Taki barely made out an, “I’m sorry…”
“What are you apologizing for?” An attempt to reassure slipped forth amidst nuzzling against her side. By touch alone, Umiri’s skin felt etiolated, cold, she shuddered and shivered, sobbing to no end.
For a moment, Umiri retreated, sucking in air to breathe. She looked over her, eyes shimmering with droplets, shone a soft pink and puffiness about them. Perhaps endeavoring to blink embarrassment, woe, and the culmination of misery away, her voice crackled, “Can I… stay?”
“Of course you can, I invited you over, after all,” soothing, she caressed her cheek. Upon closer inspection, Taki deduced deep straining beneath her gaze, pale skin contrasted periorbital swelling, an unnatural darkness encircling her eyes. It wasn’t eye shadow—she knew she disliked heavy makeup. Ill at ease, her head tilted, pondering aloud, “Have you been getting enough sleep? You look very tired.”
Umiri shook her head anew. Leaning into Taki’s hand, her warm hand, her beautiful hand, her composure, or lack thereof, melted into a softness she hadn’t bore witness to more than a single time.
It alone prompted a thumb to slide over her cheekbone, an urge to provide whatever aid she could have, “How can I help?”
“... I apologize.”
Alas, an apology felt worse—she couldn’t have presupposed her turmoil, rectifying as best she was able, so failed to hearten, “No, no more apologies. Next time you apologize, I’ll, um… get upset?”
Still un-Umiri-like, she shrunk back. She messed up.
“N-no, please don’t— Sorry, I’m not great at this,” Taki released her cradling of her forlorn lover. Manifesting contemplation, she upreared both hands to rest upon her shoulders, a vow for another embrace. “Can you tell me what you’d like? I promise I’ll do anything.”
Although color returned to Umiri’s face, spoken craving remained beyond her, in lieu veiling, “I’m not… I don’t know.” Her feet shifted.
Taki forced a smile, “If you don’t tell me, I’ll just start doing everything until something works.” Following a puff of, “Here, I can’t imagine it’s comfortable to sleep in that,” she gestured downward at Umiri’s pants, making haste to undo her belt, checking her expression for approval, thereafter sliding her slacks to the floor.
Even so, her countenance stiffened.
‘If that’s not it, then…’ An embarrassed gulp preceded a deep inhale, and Taki gazed regardfully into her eyes, ‘Here goes.’ What began as a small kiss on Umiri’s cheek metamorphosed into Taki’s lips remaining close, near enough that her warmth hushed against her skin, “You’re very handsome, Umiri, um… I love your eyes, and your hands, and when you hold me, so I want to hold you, t—”
In a flash, she was pulled close, warmly. As they had enfolded prior, sobs dabbled the curve of Taki’s neck, hands clasped her back, hence she reciprocated in enwreathement. Quiet, so quiet that she worried it was imagined, Umiri whispered against her sodden shoulder, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she reassured back. Nevertheless, uncertainty bedeviled Taki’s conscience, that she yearned for nothing less than to provide succor, prompting her unconscious to slip out, “Did that, um… help?”
In spite of silence, she was clutched nearer—testament enough.
Withal, she continued, “You’re such a hard worker… You deserve some rest, okay?”
The tiniest of mumbles breathed against her shoulder, “I want to stay for a few days.”
Taki froze. She intended on reserving that weekend for cleaning up her apartment, attending practice was non-negotiable, she knew they both had essays due the following week, and yet, before she parsed it all, a hesitant affirmation tumbled forth, “We’d have to go by your apartment and get you some clo—”
“Can we go shopping together?” Only then had Umiri released her embrace, tears sparkling away, eyelids flitted from lassitude-laden, to effervescent in meliorism.
‘For her, it’s worth it.’ In kind, Taki huffed, unable to deny, “We can do that, too. J-just, worry about sleeping tonight first…! You need it.”
Confidence retracted itself from her intonation, ergo Umiri’s sullen look formed a moue in demurral, “Only if it’s with you.”
“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”
In absence of further prompting, Taki reached for her hand, plodding to her bed, their bed, welcoming Umiri under the covers at her side. Prior, she was often hugged and huddled—she faced one direction, and Umiri, being the taller of the two, faced the same, forming a perfect shape for Taki to nestle into. But, that night was different. That night, she was certain to face her, resting a hand against Umiri’s cheek, not once peeping away nor closing her eyes. Not until the advent of her soft snores.
“I love you, Umiri,” they touched noses.
“I love you too, my Taki.” Softness seldom seen had swathed Umiri’s countenance, deduced as a plea for more.
Allowing herself conviction, she carried on, “I know I said you’re handsome, b-but… you’re very pretty too, my sweet Umiri.” Hearing herself elicited bright flushing across the entirety of her face, offset solely by witnessing the same bubbling to the surface of her partner’s cheeks. So, she resumed again, “You always take such good care of me, and I want to do the same for you.”
“What do I say to that…” An unrestrainable simper, silly as it was, took up residence across her expression. Tears followed, yet none of sorrow, as she shifted to put arms around Taki, pulling her into a cuddling hug.
Taki, naturally, embraced her thusly, huddling Umiri’s head to her chest, heartbeat heard. Running fingers through her strands of spiked hair, she kissed her forehead. “I love you, Umi— my Umiri.”
“I love you too, my Taki,” her voice, already low with uncharacteristic clemency, petered into a longing of, “You’re so warm… Can we stay like this forever?”
Taki lacked the heart to deny. Hence, she bestowed another kiss atop her forehead, another reassurance to follow, “As long as you promise to eat breakfast tomorrow.”
Fingertips arched gently against her back. “Mm…”
“And if you… get any nightmares, um… Don’t hesitate to hold me tighter,” her final cognizance escaped—so little thought had been put into her sentiment, howbeit she spoke truth and no fewer. When growing flustered from her very own proclamations was a nonfactor, that was.
Accordingly, Umiri willed another, “I love you.”
To which she complied, warm breaths and fresh kiss on her head, “I love you more than anything in the world.”
“I love you like that, too. You are my whole world.”
“And you’re mine. Sleep well, my sweet Umiri.”
From the very beginning until evening’s end, morning’s promised arrival, and several hours following, their positions hardly changed. Even as Taki was awoken twice by tighter holds, a deeper-nestled head, affections gracing her comatose state, her arms hadn’t departed their cuddling embrace for the whole of the night.
With the inevitable arrival of morning, Taki woke Umiri by 11:30 to the scent of yakisoba topped with fried egg. ‘A nice bubble bath after breakfast couldn’t hurt,’ she kept fresh in mind, ‘Then, we can go clothes shopping.’ Looking upon Umiri's waking expression, Taki couldn’t help but find her adorable.