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It's a windy day, Honami oh so smartly remarks as she pushes her hair out of her face for the 20th time. She took it out of her usual style - the tension was giving her a headache.
The trees swayed with the wind, cars rushing on the street in the distance.
The cold of the rooftop's chain-link fence bites at her fingertips.
She doesn't come up here very often, unlike a certain someone. (She's surprised they aren't here at the moment, actually.) She's not used to the concrete beneath her feet, the digging of uneven stones into her socks. She would be a bit more displeased by the jaggy texture in any other scenario, anytime other than this one.
The sickeningly familiar sound of tearing bandages snaps her out of her daze.
A pained hiss in an achingly familiar tone of voice, a mirthless chuckle that sends an unwelcome rush of emotions through Honami's heart.
The fence clinks as she tightens her grip.
Her eyes burn. Her throat tightens, her chest aches with the need to claw itself apart, because the very thought that Shiho could be at the same point in their life as her makes her sicker than imaginable, and she can't bear the thought any longer.
She tightens her grip on the fence again, somehow, the metal digging into the flesh of her palms and fingertips. The pain and the cold ground her in an inexplicable way.
Unsure of Shiho's exact position, Honami slips through the broken part of the fence and takes a seat on the very edge, unfocused eyes scanning the fall. A guaranteed death.
She's done her research.
"Guess there's no point in leaving you this now."
An unopened letter addressed to her sits in between her and the only person who could save her.
"Shiho."
"Hm?"
"…" Just wanted to feel your name in my mouth one last time, "It's nothing."
"Honami."
"Yeah?"
She gets her first full view of Shiho, in their most vulnerable state, sitting on the edge of a rooftop, ready to die.
Their eyes are empty, not unusually flat, but dimmer. There's a large blood stain trailing down their nose, wiped away at their lips. Their arms are scarred and bruised, old bandages sticking to half-healed wounds. Their hair is a mess.
Honami had made herself to be beautiful, in hopes of dying in a way that is at least a little bit visually pleasing. Her hair washed, scarred arms covered with her nicest sweatshirt. The shine in her eyes artificial at best.
Shiho pulls themselves closer with the help of the fence, positioning their face barely inches away from her own.
"Everything's gonna be alright."
Honami can't help a soft gasp. Her breath mixes with Shiho's, blowing away in the wind.
"Liar."
They grab her hand, calloused fingertips scraping her soft palm and curling around her hand.
"Because you're our dear friend…!"
Shiho brushes her hair out of her face.
"Maybe so."
But the liar's lips on her own makes her heart skip.
This wasn't how she expected to be kissed for the first time, dangling on the edge of life and death at age 17, cracked and shattered.
She's not complaining.
"We should…" Honami doesn't want to stop, "get off the roof."
"Mm."
"I told you it'd all be alright."
"I can try again another day."
"Me and you both."