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MITSUKI NEVER THOUGHT SHE’D BE AT HER OLD HIGH SCHOOL AGAIN. She didn’t hate the place, especially since it held many dear memories. Maybe she hated it during the time she was enrolled. Anxiety made her dread going to school and being surrounded by everyone. It felt worse when someone tried talking to her. She truly never saw herself coming back here once she graduated.
Moreover, she never saw herself coming back for a high school reunion hosted by their former school principal ten years later. Who had probably made the great effort of finding out where all the former teachers from their third year and peers were.
Yet, Mituski was in attendance.
She dressed formerly for the occasion; at least, according to her standards. Her and Aya came together, arms linked as they entered the decorated gymnasium filled with old faces that, if she were being honest, barely recognised.
The same place where their prom was hosted. The best part of that night was kissing Aya, sitting on the floor of the storage room; a hand on her waist, the other cupping her face, and afterwards they rejoined their friends for the remainder of prom night—even winning Prom King and Queen, which shocked her too.
Amongst other things, the recognition from her peers about her music was unexpected. People came up to her, praising her lyrics, asking for autographs. She didn’t mind it, chuckling nervously and signing off whatever they had. When she had stepped into the building, she forgot about being Me to Her. She was simply Koga Mitsuki walking through the familiar hallways and passing classrooms.
Mitsuki stood at the back of the gymnasium, leaning against the wall, her head nodding along to the song playing through the stereos, humming. Her hands were in the pockets of her slacks, her thumbs rubbing over the soft material. She loosened the tie around the collar of her white button-down shirt a little bit. She resigned herself to people watching after interacting with everyone.
Aya was in the middle of the room, beautiful in a dress—that she designed and made herself—and heels. The set of gold jewellery complimented her skin. Aya stood tall and walked gracefully. Mitsuki could hear the distinct sound of her heels clicking with each step she took. Every few seconds, their eyes met, and they’d smile before Aya returned to her conversation with Megumu and Mao.
They had stumbled upon the couple a few moments ago. Megumu and Mao have been dating for about two years. Something that came as a surprise to Mitsuki. She hadn’t known either one had feelings for the other. Then again, she had a hard time understanding her own feelings for Aya.
Mitsuki saw Megumu a lot back in Los Angeles. More than her own girlfriend, since Aya was working at a fashion house in New York. Megumu had become a successful actor, starring in lead roles and winning awards. Mao became a model in Tokyo, she was on magazine covers, billboards, and walking down runways. Somewhere in between, Megumu and Mao had started dating when he came back to Tokyo.
Friendship with Mao came easy.
Conversation flowed with her, whether it was through text or a phone call. She showed support for her music, often sending Mitsuki a review of the album or posting about it. In return, Mitsuki sent photos to Mao whenever she came across a magazine with her on the cover or a billboard. Mitsuki attended fashion weeks with Aya and Megumu to watch her on the runway.
However, there were moments where Mitsuki hadn’t enjoyed herself. That’s because she was too busy sparing glances towards the one person she last wanted to be around alone ever since their high school days.
Chizuru.
A shudder ran down Mitsuki’s spine, making her straighten her posture. She removed her hands from her pockets, smoothing out her shirt for absolutely no reason. It felt like her mind kicked into autopilot to just appear normal.
Totally not anxious.
Her eyes were totally not scanning around the gymnasium, alert, to see if she was here. She was totally not already rehearsing what to say to her if they crossed paths. They were friends; why would she be acting like that? It wasn’t as if she was only friends with Chizuru because of Aya, right?
Of course not.
Well… maybe?
She ran her hand down her face with a frustrated sigh. She didn’t know why she felt that way, but she knew it had to do with Chizuru. The confusion that whatever their friendship — could she even call it that? — was swirling in her head. If anything, they were cordial towards each other. At least, that’s how Mitsuki tried to interpret whatever this was. Circling around each other as if they weren’t grown adults.
Mitsuki felt the familiar vibration beginning to shake in her leg. The anxiety was starting to get to her. Her fingers flexed, wishing that she could grab her lighter and a cigarette. But she was on a sobriety journey from nicotine.
She glanced towards the exit and back to where Aya was; her back facing her as she continued talking to Megumu and Narita. Their conversation animated, hands moving around as they told stories and recounted events.
“It’s fine. You’re okay,” she murmured to herself in reassurance. “It’s just your anxiety. That’s all.”
She made her way to Aya, politely smiling and nodding to anyone that had caught her eye as she passed; muttering apologies in case she bumped into someone. When she reached her, hearing Aya exclaim in annoyance at something Megumu said, while Mao was laughing at their disagreement; hiding her mouth behind her hand.
“That’s not what happened!”
“That’s exactly what happened though!”
“And how would you know?”
“I wasn’t the drunk one that nig—!”
“—Irrelevant!”
She walked over and wrapped her arms around Aya’s waist, causing her to yelp but she was silenced by pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. Aya leaned into her hold easily, feeling much calmer.
Megumu playfully gagged, rolling his eyes. He leaned to whisper — he barely tried to — in Mao’s ear.
“They’re at it again.”
“Oi.”
Aya narrowed her eyes at him. Mitsuki rested her head on her shoulder, chuckling, pulling Aya closer to her. She continued, retorting.
“Don’t act like you’re not the same with Mao.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
Megumu gasped, mouth agape and a hand drawn to his chest as he pulled back from Mao; dramatic and distraught. He couldn’t believe Mao, who was unapologetically smiling with a mischievous glint in her eyes, was on their side.
“Mao?!”
“What?” She shrugged at him. Her arm wrapped around his middle, leaning her head against his shoulder. “It’s true!”
“No, it’s not!”
Mitsuki and Aya snickered, Aya enjoying the moment more. Mitsuki paid no attention towards Megumu and Mao’s playful argument. Instead, she lowered her head, pressing a kiss onto Aya’s shoulder, and turning her around to be face to face. Aya wrapped her arms around Mitsuki’s shoulders, smiling at her.
“You okay?” Aya asked, concern laced in her tone.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Mitsuki nodded, swaying them gently to the music and glanced around, before stopping. “Just, uh, wanted to let you know that I’m heading out for some fresh air.”
“Wait, why? What’s wrong? How are you feeling right now?”
She took a step back, her hands holding onto Mitsuki’s shoulders. Her eyebrows furrowed, eyes scanning over Mitsuki’s face to decipher what’s wrong, and her lips curling into a frown.
“Oh, I’m okay,” she said swiftly, rubbing her thumb over the fabric of Aya’s dress by her waist. “I’m feeling a bit anxious; need to clear my head. Calm myself down.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” Aya rubbed her hands soothingly over Mitsuki’s upper arms. “You know I don’t mind.”
“No, it’s fine.” Mitsuki assured her. “Stay here. I won’t be gone for too long. I just need a minute, okay?”
Aya narrowed her eyes, letting out a hum as she thought about it. She trusted Mitsuki, no doubt about that. She wanted to be there for her as usual. But, she also knew that when Mitsuki needed some space, she often preferred to be alone.
She nodded her head. “Okay. But let me know if you need anything.”
Mitsuki smiled and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. Then she gave another one another to her lips; soft and lingering, which Aya returned.
“I’ll be back,” She murmured. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Mitsuki let go of Aya and weaved her way out of the gymnasium, slipping past everyone politely. Once she got to the exit door, she looked over her shoulder. Aya, Mao, and Megumu were talking amongst each other again.
The warm, spring breeze felt refreshing once she opened the door to the balcony as she stood at the threshold. She took a few steps forward, walking down the three steps. She closed the door gently behind her, and exhaled a shaky breath as she rested her forearms over the railing and pressed her forehead against them for a minute.
It was peaceful outside, but her mind was racing. It felt as if she had to brace herself from the worst-case scenario. Which, to Mitsuki, was running into Chizuru.
She groaned loudly, burying her head into her hands.
Mitsuki hadn’t seen nor talked to Chizuru in a while. If she had to be honest, she hasn’t been in contact with her since they graduated high school ten years ago. Whatever updates she learned about Chizuru was through Aya. For instance, Chizuru had apparently been working at a public relations firm.
Which seemed fitting for Chizuru.
She had always been the person everyone went to for their problems. As much as she hated it, sometimes Mitsuki guaranteed that Chizuru didn’t care, she still gave solid advice and solutions to anyone who came to her. Often times, it appeared that she wasn’t listening from how she was mostly seen scrolling through her phone, but Chizuru was more attentive than people gave her credit for.
Not that Mitsuki could vouch for her.
If anything, she didn’t know whether Chizuru liked her or not. Maybe Chizuru hated her, or maybe she was trying to grasp at straws to make herself believe that she hated Chizuru too. It shouldn’t matter, is what she kept telling herself throughout the years. But her being Aya’s friend meant something. If she was important to Aya, then Chizuru was important to her.
Even if they didn’t like each other.
Right?
“Mind if I join you?”
“What the—”
Mitsuki gasped, startled, and flinched. She turned her head at the sound of the person’s voice. It was none other than Chizuru; and it seemed nothing about her changed.
She still had the same nonchalant expression on her face, as if she didn’t want to be here and talk to anyone, with an eyebrow raised. Her lips pursed in a thin line. Her phone was in her hand; more than ever now since she was probably working on it majority of the time.
“Oh, hey… Chizuru.”
“Hey, Mitsuki,” she greeted plainly. “Again, do you mind if I join you?”
Straight to the point as always.
“Uh, no. It’s okay.” Mitsuki gestured vaguely towards the balcony, feeling awkward. “Feel free.”
“Thanks.”
“Alright.”
Chizuru walked towards the railing, already scrolling through her phone. Her fingers were swiping and typing rapidly, sending messages and emails. That was it.
Mitsuki sighed quietly, counting down from ten to calm herself down. She returned leaning over the railing with her forearms, standing at a respectable distance from Chizuru and lowered her gaze. She twisted her rings, jaw tightening.
Because what happens now?
Nothing?
During their high school years, when she started getting to Aya; and by some extension, Mao and Chizuru, there were whispers from their classmates about how alike they were. Until this very day, Mitsuki couldn’t see it.
People said that they were alike.
They said that they had the same hair.
The first thing she noticed — as Mitsuki stole another glance in her direction — was how long Chizuru’s hair has gotten. Her blonde hair cascading down her back, sleek and straight. It was the same length as hers. Ten years ago, they both sported short, shoulder-length hair. Granted, they weren’t the only girls in class with that haircut, but everyone loved pointing it out.
Other times, people kept talking about how quiet they both were. However, Chizuru was quiet by choice, she could make a good conversation if she wanted too. Which was a rare occurrence. Anxiety grabbed Mitsuki by the neck and made her choke on her words, fearing how her tone would sound or how others were going to perceive them.
“Can I help you?”
Chizuru deadpanned, pocketing her phone.
Mitsuki blinked, leaning her head back slightly.
How long had she been staring at her?
“No! I mean—” Mitsuki paused. “I was—I was thinking.”
“About?”
“Us?”
“Ew.”
“Wait—No! Not like that!”
“Still. Ew.”
Mitsuki opened her mouth and closed it again. Afraid that she’ll say something stupid. To her surprise, Chizuru’s scowl morphed into a laugh. A delightful, unheard of sound coming from her. Mitsuki didn’t know whether to join in or continue to be shocked.
Chizuru noticed the stunned expression, rolling her eyes as she waved a dismissive hand.
“Relax,” she assured, turning over to the side to face Mitsuki. “I know what you meant.”
“You did?”
“Other than how everyone compared us for no reason,” Chizuru started, counting on her fingers. “How we’ve barely interacted with each other, and that all of this is fucking stupid, what else is there to think about?”
Mitsuki broke out in laughter in disbelief, shaking her head at how utterly ridiculous it was. It always has been. More so that Chizuru said it out loud.
“You’re right.” She nodded. “What else is there?”
“I don’t know.” Chizuru shrugged. “You tell me.”
She propped her elbow on the railing, her chin resting on her palm.
“You’re serious?”
“I mean, we don’t have that much in common to talk about anyway,” Chizuru mused. “Unless you count being here against our will, then there’s right.”
“You’re right.” Mitsuki chuckled. “But I wouldn’t say it’s ‘against my will’. I came here with Aya because I wanted to; with her, obviously. What about you?”
“Mao convinced me.” Chizuru sighed, turning around and crossing her arms. She leaned her back against the balcony rail. “She said that it’ll be good for me to show my face for once.”
“She’s not wrong.”
“Excuse me?”
“Think about it,” Mitsuki suggested. “When was the last time I heard from you?”
“And when was the last time you made an effort to hear from me?” Chizuru shot back.
Mitsuki fought back the urge to retort, but Chizuru gave her an expectant look that dared her to do so. She could argue that Chizuru hasn’t done the same thing. Yet, she felt that Chizuru was well aware of that fact.
Chizuru hummed in acknowledgment. “Exactly.”
“In my defence…” Mitsuki raised her hands in surrender. “You aren’t the easiest person to talk to. I thought you were—”
“—A bitch?”
“… Yeah.”
“Not surprised. You wouldn’t be the first; or the last.” she murmured dryly. “I thought you were too good to be around anyone.”
Mitsuki tilted her head, brows furrowed with a look of surprise on her face. “Wait, what?”
“You didn’t talk to anyone, had your earphones in and looking out the windows, was always the first person to leave class—shall I go on?” Chizuru gestured with her hands to continue.
“No, no need!” She exclaimed with a shake of her head, processing. “I guess we both misunderstood each other.”
“I guess so,” Chizuru agreed quietly.
Silence fell between them.
There was no sense of any lingering tension. Mituski’s posture was relaxed, Chizuru no longer scowled. Not once had she taken out her phone throughout the conversation. Probably placed it on silent but she’ll be glued to it soon, Mituski predicted.
The two of them stood there. Then, slowly, Mitsuki raised her hand.
“Let’s work this out?”
Chizuru hesitated for a second, then she raised her hand and accepted.
“Okay.”
Mitsuki exhaled a deep breath she didn’t realise she was holding, Chizuru let herself a small smile. They were both glad to learn how the other felt, and were willing to start fresh.
Everything between them was finally being put to bed.