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Naturally, Yui braided her hair.
Weak, her fingers are—brittle by the frostbite that made home in her bones, but good enough to lead one strand over the other; Kyoko sat as still as she could, with tense shoulders and a stern expression in the mirror. A princess, Yui might call her, hardened by the sorrow of the wintertide the two of them endured; a soon-to-be monarch of a world growing forever hostile.
She sits, with her hands covered on top of the other—like royalty do. Never looking down to marvel at them like Yui has done countless times since their departure. Perhaps that makes her lowly commoner. Gazing upon someone from a world so distant from her own, that she can’t possibly imagine what it would be like to stand on equal footing.
But she has. And she did. Yui reminds herself—as the braid starts to come towards its end.
‘That difference’ the two of them accomplished has been finalized; and for now, the world will never know pain at the hands of their protectors. And when they get just a little bit stronger, there are more things to come after, like justice, in due time.
“Finished, just like I promised. How does it feel, Kirigiri-chan?”
Her new braid sits a bit lower than her old one in a different shade of ribbon. Kyoko turned around, letting it fall over her shoulder—her coldness softening.
“It could be better.”
She pinched the side of her cheek. And pulled, just once. Kyoko faked a wince.
“Onēsama is cruel.”
“I can’t help it,” Yui said, “Your cheekiness knows no bounds. I have to correct it.”
She hummed, before going to the kitchen to rummage through Yui’s things—she imagined. What’s left of her dorm room anyway.
That night was like a dream. Veiled by her reddened eyes as she destroyed the things that made up her humanity. Her diaries, family photos, her photos, scraps of loose poems—and maybe her old clothes. She doesn’t really remember much, besides how full her bag felt over her shoulder—and the hallway light that shined from the door as Kyoko went to retrieve her for their final Duel Noir.
The cold, from outside; and the sound of the enthused in that car driving towards a world’s end. The flick of his cape, and the rage of the beautiful soldier. All drenched in blood, killed cowardly—and dragged towards the abyss with the pull of her wrist. And his fortune—burned to a crisp.
Maybe that was the feeling she felt—despair—as she awoke by herself in the hospital room. Never knowing whether Kyoko came out all right in the end. If everything came to its end. And when she found out…
Her face flushed pink. Now’s not the time to think about those kinds of things.
Yui looks outside the window, and not even the sun wishes to greet her. Hidden by clouds left over from the previous season. With fresh blooms wilted on the ground, and the sounds of phantom walks carried by the city wind. If she had some paper on her, she could probably draft a sonnet; with Mayu as its narrator, for a touch of anachronism.
“There’s nothing to eat, Onēsama.” Kyoko said, joining Yui by the window. Out of habit, she raises her hand to straighten her bangs. And a memory lingers too hotly of when she last did it—of Kyoko’s face closing in on hers.
Anyway!
“I’m sure there’s some places that are open by now. How about it?”
Yui was never one to venture outside of her destinations ‘A’ and ‘B,’ but she was at least aware of the numerous breakfast joints littered around the area. Sometimes those places would become a ‘C,’ if a suspect was on the prowl.
Surprisingly, Kyoko shook her head. “We could just eat here.” Or maybe it wasn’t surprising, by the way she held hands together.
Hm, this was going to be a problem. Sometimes Yui forgets Kyoko is a girl. Can she really be faulted for that?
What to do, what to do… Ah!
Yui shrugged her shoulders. “Well, I guess that means Kirigiri-chan will just have to wait here all on her lonesome while I-”
“-Its too soon for Yui-onēsama to leave my side.” Kyoko was quick to grab onto her arm, holding it tightly close to her chest. “Yui-onēsama knows better than to make jokes like that.”
Finally, she pouts.
That’s the Kyoko she knows. Yui can’t help but pat her head.
“Of course, what kind of onēsama would I be to leave my kouhai behind? I guess we should leave together, then.”
“Hmph.”
5:30 AM was probably too early, but at least the restaurant she was thinking of was open.
It was one of those blink-and-you-miss-it types of places; the faint smog of the city hung over the downtown area, and the congested walls of shop blocks loomed over as the two of them walked towards the doors propped open by the advertisement signs. A family-owned establishment, probably. The young girl by the counter stewed over cold coffee as she took both of their orders and directed them towards a spot by the window.
If she squinted, Hope’s Peak Academy barely peaked over the view. A touch of irony stirs within her. Or was the term foreshadowing? She could hear her teachers scolding her from here.
She looks back at Kyoko. Watching her play with the cup in her hand.
“Coffee? Not going to have some black tea?”
For the first time in a long time, she glared at her.
“I rather not.” Kyoko mulled. “Well, not from Onēsama anytime soon, at least.”
“That wasn’t my fault though! Didn’t we discuss that already?”
“You never know.” Kyoko said with a playful smile.
Thankfully, their order arrived. Yui was starting to feel offended.
Nothing too fancy, given for a place like this. She had two eggs benedicts', and Kyoko had two french toasts covered in wild-berries. The remainder of their breakfast continued in silence. Over time, the sun soon started to part through the cold clouds and shine through the open window. The shadows from outside loomed.
They were shorter now. Suppose it is finally spring.
The walk away from the restaurant was also quiet. Nothing but the sound of their shoes scraping against the sidewalk could be heard. And they continue to stretch on away from them, to a place they have never been to.
Kyoko was slow to wrap herself around Yui’s arm. She doesn’t push it.
A part of her starts to feel awkward. With Kyoko’s presence suddenly becoming more louder and apparent as they act like nothing is happening. She wants to act like that’s the case. But she can’t stop how fast her heartbeat beats, nor Kyoko’s that matched her pace.
Does she say something? Right now?
Oh, she’s too nervous.
In the hospital, she didn’t feel that way. When Kyoko barged into the room as Yui awoke from slumber. It had been a long day, staring at nothing besides nurses with clipboards and the television that played. Recovery felt meaningless. Almost.
‘I missed you.’
‘I missed you too.’
Those were the only words exchanged, before they shared that kiss.
Too quick, too chaste; soft like a brush of paint coated on a canvas; coaxed into another one like a siren’s lure. One became two, and two became three. They haven’t done it since.
It was almost like a game. A silly one, where they danced around it without so much as a hint of knowing. That didn’t stop Kyoko from cuddling with her after they called it a night, or Yui giving her more attention when they decided to take a bath together. Something that didn’t have a name.
More than friends, but not quite lovers. Maybe.
She’s never been in a relationship before. In fact, she’s made it a point to ignore it in pursuit of her goals. No doubt a pile of love letters have settled in her locker—-and maybe Kyoko’s too, asking for some kind of assistance.
A sigh escapes her. And somehow they ended up at the public park.
It doesn’t take a while to sit at the bench.
Yui sits first, and Kyoko follows—now nestled more closely to her. Anyone looking their way would probably call them a couple, with the way she’s doing it.
…
Should she say something?
She hesitates, and lets Kyoko lean into her more—invading her space.
“Why didn’t Onēsama walk towards the dormitory?”
“Huh? Was I supposed to?”
Kyoko mopes. “Does Onēsama not want to have her way with me?”
Her eyes widened. “What!?”
“Is that not how dates are supposed to end?”
This girl-!
“No, I think you're just crazy.” Yui protested. “What kind of person do you think I am?”
“A weird one.”
“You’re the one with your implications.” She scoffed.
“I faintly recall Onēsama telling all the girls at school that we were on a date, and it's been about 4 months long at this point. I am quite eager to see how Onēsama plans on ending it.”
“...Are you fucking with me?”
“I’m trying to.”
She jumped from the bench. “OKAY. Alright, I get it. Kirigiri-chan doesn’t have to say those kinds of things anymore.”
Kyoko giggled, uncharacteristically. She stands up too. The distance between them is giving her anxiety, suddenly.
An ending to a date? That she didn’t even know they were on? Yui’s not sure if she could end it on a high note.
Despite her attitude, Kyoko has never looked so sharp under the blinding light that approached the sky. The shake of her legs became hidden within her assertive composure, looking at her with a sense of inquiry—as if what Yui would say or do next was important. Unfitting for a princess, who she has no place to stand on equal footing with.
Because.
A long time ago, for a long time, Yui was certain she wouldn’t make it past the observatory. Locked behind frosted windows under the weathering storm of blizzard snow. The fall of the Committee, the end of her sister’s murderer, and the inevitable end of her passion—of what made her want to be a detective.
Where does she go from here? What new terrible thing would this world bring—in the woes of another committee, or maybe at the entrance of a new school day?
Maybe that doesn’t matter anymore. And maybe it never will. All that matters is the girl in front of her, waiting for her decision.
She lifts Kyoko’s chin and leans in.