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Terhuashi Kokomi is a name everyone in Japan knows.
Ever since her debut at eighteen, her songs have flown to the top of the charts with each new release. She’s performed sold-out shows not only in her home country, but also in a multitude of venues abroad. She can hardly leave the house without being recognized, and while she does thrive off of the fame and attention, it can also be a bit…much.
She loves her job, and her fans—really! She loves making music and sharing it with the world; she loves the live performances and getting dressed up and shooting music videos and even endless hours spent in the recording studio ensuring every note sounds perfect. It’s what she’s wanted for as long as she can remember—a dream stretching bad to the earliest days of her childhood. To be someone with the world at her fingertips.
She just didn’t realize how exhausting it could be.
It’s one thing to put on a show—to be the perfect pretty girl whenever she’s on stage, and during interviews, and even while interacting with fans on the street. But the persona she has curated is something she’s been piecing together since long before she rose to fame, and so, it’s something she must maintain at all times. No exceptions, no excuses—lest the media catch wind of a slip-up and drag her name through the mud.
There’s no escape.
Kokomi steps off stage, and she does not get to breathe a sigh of relief or let her smile drop. She graciously thanks Sawakita for the water bottle he has ready for her, never once allowing her expression to falter. She takes slow, careful sips, though her throat is painfully dry from so much singing. She greets the rest of her backstage crew by name as she passes by on the way to her changing room. It’s only once she’s locked the door behind her and double-checked to ensure she’s alone that she can finally, truly, relax.
She breathes out slowly, then drops into a chair. She downs the rest of her water rather messily, desperate for the hydration, then wipes her mouth with the back of her hand—something she would never allow herself to do where another person may see.
She sets the empty bottle on the counter, at which point, she catches sight of her reflection in the mirror.
Her makeup is still picture-perfect, hair still expertly pinned in place and held fast with too much hairspray. She looks every bit the goddess her fans believe her to be.
But—
Even with the entire world ready to bend to her whims, there’s still an empty space in Kokomi’s chest. Especially when she’s so far from home, so far from everyone who knew her before and from the select few who have seen who she is beneath the myriad of masks she wears. She could have anything she asks for handed to her on a silver platter in five minutes, but it would never be enough.
Because the one thing Kokomi wants, above all else, is someone who can stand on equal ground with her.
She wants her friends.
Yumehara Chiyo is, for all intents and purposes, a completely ordinary university student. She attends lectures, suffers through homework and exams, meets up with her friends for study sessions, and even goes to the occasional party when she’s invited. She works part-time at a café and sometimes steals pastries to take home with her if the manager isn’t looking, and definitely makes herself drinks without ringing them up for ‘stock purposes’ or whatever. She still lives with her parents, but campus is close enough that there’s no point in moving out and paying for an apartment of her own. Besides, when she needs a bit of space, she just crashes with Kaidou and Kuboyasu.
So, you see: Yumehara Chiyo is a perfectly average girl.
She just might also have one small secret.
It’s not, like, a devastating secret or anything. There’s no hidden traumatic backstory, or fear that her friends are going to turn their backs on her if they ever find out. In fact, some of them—like Kaidou—already know. And she’s sure others could find out too, if they knew to look for it, so it’s probably kind of only a matter of time before some random classmate or customer asks her about it.
But.
Basically,
the thing about Chiyo that is not ordinary, and which she doesn’t offer up in conversation to anyone who isn’t already aware, is that she’s been friends with idol Teruhashi Kokomi since high school.
Crazy, right? The Teruhashi Kokomi was Chiyo’s high school friend—and not even just her friend, but her very best friend. They had sleepovers and movie nights, they ate lunch together, they hung out after school and on the weekends. Kokomi said once, that she knew whenever things got too much for her at home, she could always find safety with Chiyo. Chiyo was there for her back when being an idol was a fantastical dream and not the every day reality of her life. She was there for Kokomi’s first concert—hell, she was the first real fan of the Kokomi who is an idol rather than just the Kokomi who was the most popular girl at school.
It honestly might all feel like a fever dream now, years after the fact, except for the fact that they’re still in contact.
They’re not as close as they were in high school, which Chiyo supposes is only to be expected. Kokomi is always traveling around for concerts and media appearances and whatnot while Chiyo is…an average university student. She’s sure Kokomi has plenty of other friends now too, but she at least still likes Chiyo enough to keep in touch. She sends Chiyo pictures from her travels—cityscapes from fancy hotel rooms, delicious foods from pricey restaurants, pretty scenery from countries Chiyo will probably never get to visit. Meanwhile, Chiyo sends updates about their mutual friends from high school and cute animal videos and funny memes she finds while scrolling through Twitter during class.
They talk sometimes too—about movies and tv shows and music—but it’s not quite the same when they can’t see each other face-to-face.
And it’s totally selfish, but Chiyo misses being able to actually see Kokomi every day. Because the press can release hundreds of pictures and videos, but none of that is the same as the nights when Chiyo and Kokomi would stay up late, holed up in Chiyo’s bedroom, whispering and giggling and sitting close enough for their knees to touch. It’s not the same, because world-renowned idol Kokomi is different from Chiyo’s friend Kokomi.
Kokomi the idol is perfect, but Kokomi the friend was real.
All that to say—
There might be one other tiny secret Chiyo has been holding onto. One that could actually ruin things if it were to come to light. Maybe not on a worldwide level, and most of Chiyo’s friends wouldn’t ditch her or anything, but sharing it would risk the one friendship she cherishes most: her friendship with Kokomi.
Because Chiyo has a crush on her.
Since high school, probably, though she didn’t realize as much until after graduation and after Kokomi had already slipped through her fingers. And at this point, it’s gone on for so long that it might honestly constitute as something more than a little crush. It’s certainly not whatever Kokomi’s fans feel for her when they declare their love either—Chiyo’s feelings aren’t shallow and appearance-based. She didn’t fall for an idol persona, and she wouldn’t call her affections for Kokomi worship.
She just…
She loves Kokomi. In every way—all of them at once. And she has for…a really long time.
But, of course, Kokomi is out of reach. She’s impossible—she was impossible even in high school, really. Chiyo doesn’t know if she even likes girls, first of all, and secondly… Well. An average university student is never going to have any luck dating an idol, and an average high school student was never going to have any luck dating the most popular girl in town. Chiyo’s feelings have been doomed from the beginning, before she even knew what they were.
Unfortunately, knowing that has not made them go away.
(Chiyo is starting to fear they never will.)
When Kokomi returns to Japan, she’s whisked away from the airport in a sleek black car, heading straight for the hotel she has booked so she can get some sleep before a morning interview. She has one evening free, and then it’s back to alternating between concerts and traveling and entertaining the press.
As the city flies by outside, Kokomi looks down to her phone screen. Chiyo has exams this week, so it’s unsurprising that there were no messages waiting for her when she got off the plane, but it’s still…disappointing, in a way. Kokomi always looks forward to hearing from her. Even more so when the homesickness eats at her chest, widening the gaping chasm that was once filled by the friends she had in high school.
She opens her text thread with Chiyo, staring at the most recent interaction between them, which was just Kokomi wishing Chiyo luck with her schoolwork and Chiyo thanking her.
She’s overcome, suddenly, with an urge to throw both caution and her entire career to the wind. To tell the driver to stop, change course, head to the nearest station so she can get on the next train to Tokyo. It would be impossible, and terrible for her image—it could ruin everything she’s built up, but—
(Wouldn’t it be fun?)
She shakes her head, shutting off her phone and directing her gaze through the window instead. She looks past her reflection in the glass, out to the city beyond, and counts her breaths. She can fantasize all she wants, but she can’t make such an impulsive decision that she knows she will regret. She can dream about seeing Chiyo again, but she is needed elsewhere right now. She has a duty, as an idol, to be there for her fans whenever she’s promised to show up. She can’t cancel an interview—or, God forbid, an entire concert—for anything less than an absolute emergency.
If only there were a way to…
Kokomi lights up at her sudden realization.
She doesn’t need to go see Chiyo, when she can just as easily bring Chiyo to her!
kokomi 💙
I feel like we haven’t seen each other in FOREVER, so I was thinking you might want to come to one of my concerts? No pressure of course, but I get friends and family tickets for every show that I never really use, and I can totally cover the cost of transportation and a hotel! Feel free to bring a friend along with you too, if you’d like :-) Just lmk so I can get you the tickets and make arrangements <3
Chiyo reads the message four times over, but she still has trouble believing she’s actually comprehending the words correctly. So she forwards it to Kaidou, asking him to confirm Kokomi is really offering an all-expenses-paid trip to any concert date she currently has lined up. Kaidou confirms that seems to be the case, which doesn’t actually help Chiyo feel better at all, because she is totally freaking out about this!!!!
It’s not like she’s never been to one of Kokomi’s concerts before—she’s been to plenty of them, actually, considering Chiyo is literally her oldest and biggest fan. But previously, she’s only really gone to shows that are nearby. She can’t just ditch work and school on a whim to fly to Okinawa or whatever.
And yet.
Right now, that is exactly what she’s thinking about doing.
“I mean, it wouldn’t be that bad, right?” Chiyo asks, pacing back and forth in the kitchen of Kaidou and Kuboyasu’s shared apartment. “My last midterm exam is Friday, so I’m basically free after that! I can definitely afford to miss a couple days of classes. If it’s a Saturday concert, I could probably just, like…leave Friday night, and maybe even make it back before Monday! That would totally work, don’t you think?”
She stops, looking up at Kaidou and Kuboyasu, who are both staring at her. Kaidou just looks confused while Kuboyasu is clearly hardcore judging her. Which—rude, she’s literally having a crisis right now!!
“You’re asking the former delinquent if you should skip class?” he raises an eyebrow.
Oh. Okay. Well…
Chiyo sighs, burying her face in her hands. “I just don’t know what to do!”
“What do you mean?” Kaidou asks.
She splits her fingers apart, peering at him through the cracks. “Huh?”
He averts his gaze, focusing instead on picking at the bandages he still wears on his hands for some reason. “I just mean… Obviously, you want to go. This is, like, the opportunity of a lifetime! If I got offered VIP tickets to a BTS concert, I wouldn’t even think twice before accepting.”
“But that’s different,” Chiyo protests. “You don’t personally know BTS. Kokomi is my friend! I don’t need a VIP pass to talk to her; I literally have her phone number. The closest you are to Jimin is in your private Ao3 bookmarks!”
Kaidou squeaks, his face going red. “That’s not—!”
“This isn’t about Shun’s RPF erotica,” Kuboyasu interrupts, causing Kaidou to let out a strangled whine that is even more embarrassing than his fanfiction history. “This is about you deflecting, for some reason. You don’t need permission to go, and certainly not from us.” He folds his arms over his chest, looking her up and down with a critical eye. “I’m not sure why you feel the need to get the go-ahead from someone else anyway. Teruhashi-san is your best friend, right? The only person who’s opinion you should be worrying about is hers.”
Chiyo presses her lips into a thin line.
She knows Kuboyasu is right—there’s no reason she needs an okay to do this from these two. Her professors can deal with her missing one day of class, and it’s not like she regularly skips for no reason, so she could probably even claim to be sick. So as long as she can plan things around her work schedule—and Mera is always looking for shifts to pick up, so that shouldn’t be a problem—nothing is stopping her from going.
Nothing, except her own fear.
Because it’s not like Kokomi could possibly know about Chiyo’s feelings, so taking her up on this offer feels a little…predatory? Like she’s taking advantage of Kokomi’s kindness and friendship for her own gain. Even if she isn’t going to do anything—even if she’s sworn she’ll die with her feelings for Kokomi still a secret.
But if Kaidou and Kuboyasu are telling her she should go simply because she wants to, that alleviates the guilt. Somewhat.
It reminds her she’s allowed to be a little selfish about Kokomi sometimes.
“Okay,” she relents. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, guys.”
So Chiyo gives Kokomi an affirmative response. There’s a Saturday show in Nagoya in a couple weeks, and technically Chiyo has a shift at work the following Sunday morning, but a quick text to Mera solves that problem. Kokomi pays for the train tickets and a hotel room, as promised, along with providing Chiyo both a ticket to the concert and a backstage pass.
I’ll be super busy beforehand, but please come see me after! she tells Chiyo. We’ll be staying in the same hotel, so we can head there together after the show if you’d like.
Chiyo is fairly certain Kokomi must have other friends she’d rather spend time with, but when she asks about others joining them, Kokomi shoots down the assumption. And since Chiyo isn’t bringing anyone with her—she did ask Kaidou, but he had a family obligation he couldn’t get out of—it’ll just be the two of them. Like their sleepovers in high school.
It feels almost too good to be true.
And Chiyo knows, probably, she’s over-hyping this up in her mind. She’s imagining a fanfic-esque scenario where Kokomi invites her onstage to confess her feelings, or a kiss in the back of a taxi, or a confession beneath the moonlight—though she knows, in reality, she and Kokomi will probably just chat and catch up a bit, and then go their separate ways for the night once they arrive at the hotel. There isn’t going to be a swell of music or bisexual lighting or a Love Confessions tag, so she needs to manage her expectations.
She needs to remember: although she might be Kokomi’s oldest friend, she is nothing compared to the rest of the world. Kokomi can have anyone and everyone she desires, and there are probably thousands of guys and girls out there who are better than Chiyo in every way. CEOs and actors and lead singers of rock bands; models and dancers and rich women in sexy pantsuits.
Chiyo isn’t special, she’s just lucky.
But it’s fine, because she doesn’t need Kokomi to reciprocate her feelings anyway. She’s made peace with it, mostly, even if her fantasies act up sometimes when she’s having a bit of a himejoshi moment on Ao3. She’s genuinely happy to be Kokomi’s friend.
Really, she’s never needed anything else. As long as Kokomi is in Chiyo’s life in some way, she’s content.
Kokomi hasn’t been this nervous for a show in…ever, actually. She knows she’s perfectly capable of every performance she has lined up for herself; she has faith in her own abilities as well as that of her tech crew who will put their lives on the line to ensure everything goes smoothly. She’s never gotten stage fright either, so these pre-show jitters are a new experience.
But Chiyo will be in the audience tonight, and she is more important to Kokomi than the rest of her fans combined. She can play off a slip-up or mistake in the lighting in front of anyone else. She can ad-lib and placate them with pretty smiles until they forget anything was ever wrong—if they even noticed in the first place.
That isn’t possible with Chiyo, because Chiyo knows Kokomi better than Kokomi even knows herself sometimes.
She needs this show to be perfect not for the sake of her own self and her image, but for the sake of Chiyo—so her friend can have fun and enjoy herself. She wants tonight to be everything Chiyo could dream of and more. She wants to let Chiyo knows just how deeply she lo—
—appreciates and cares for her.
There’s a knock on Kokomi’s dressing room door, and she jumps. Quickly, she smoothes her expression into something pleasant and polite, then hurries over to answer. She almost dares to dream it might be Chiyo, having disregarded her insistence that she would be busy before the show and come to wish her luck regardless.
Unfortunately, it’s just Sawakita checking up on her.
“I’ll be out in a moment, thank you,” she tells him, with a sugar-sweet smile. He flusters and apologizes for the interruption before leaving her be.
As soon as the door is shut, Kokomi’s smile drops.
She glances towards her reflection, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. Surely she’s just overthinking things, right? Chiyo has loved seeing her perform ever since they were in high school together; she was cheering Kokomi on during silly karaoke nights with their friends. There’s no reason for Kokomi to fret!
She can't let her nerves get the best of her. She has a show to perform, and she’s determined to make it the best performance of her life!
For Chiyo—for her friend.
When Kokomi finds Chiyo in the crowd, she’s beaming brightly, wearing an out-of-print merch shirt from Kokomi’s early idol days and a headband that is her signature shade of blue. Chiyo’s smile brightens even more when Kokomi meets her gaze, shining brighter than any spotlight—brighter even than the sun itself.
Kokomi gives her a half-wave and a wink. It’s something she’s done for plenty of other fans, but it feels different with Chiyo. More intimate, in a way, despite the full stadium of people surrounding them.
For a moment, no one in this room exists apart from Kokomi and Chiyo. She is the only person Kokomi is performing for, and the only fan who has ever mattered. Chiyo raises both of her arms in the air, waving her hands, and her lips form the words YOU’RE INCREDIBLE, KOKOMI!
High on the adrenaline rush, Kokomi blows her a kiss in response.
After the concert has ended, it takes Chiyo longer than she’d like to find Kokomi backstage.
She has the pass, of course, but figuring out which security guard or venue employee actually knows the right direction to point her in proves to be way more difficult than she expected. She’s about to just start wandering aimlessly herself when finally someone who must be from Kokomi’s team spots her and offers to take her back to where Kokomi is.
“Teruhashi-san said she had a friend coming to the show tonight,” he explains. “She seemed very excited about it! It’s always so nice to see her happy like that.” He lets out a dreamy sigh, and Chiyo’s heart clenches. It doesn’t matter because she knows everyone in the world is in love with Kokomi, but for everyone else, it’s just superficial nonsense. And Kokomi deserves better than that.
“I had a great time!” Chiyo replies, after she’s taken a second to calm herself down. “The whole thing was amazing, and it’s so nice getting to see Kokomi again!”
The man side-eyes her. “You two must be closer than I thought.”
Chiyo flushes. “N-not really! We’ve just known each other since high school, is all.”
He hums as if he doesn’t quite believe her.
It doesn’t take long after that before they arrive outside Kokomi’s dressing room. The man knocks on the door, then calls, “Teruhashi-san, your friend is here!”
The door opens near-instantaneously, and Chiyo is met with the sight of Kokomi, close enough to touch, face glowing and hair hanging loose over her shoulders. She’s already changed out of her concert attire to something much more casual, but she is every bit as beautiful as she was on stage—maybe even more so, because she looks much more real like this, and Chiyo has always loved the core of Kokomi better than the performative outer shell she displays for everyone else.
“Chiyo!” She lunges forward, wrapping Chiyo in a hug. It lasts only a moment, and then she’s pulling back, taking Chiyo by the arm to pull her into the room. She bids the man who brought Chiyo here farewell, thanking him for his help, and then the door shuts behind them.
And then they’re alone.
“Is everything alright?” Kokomi asks, a frown tugging at her lips.
That snaps Chiyo out of her temporary stupor, though she still feels all fluttery at every spot where Kokomi made contact with her. “Yes! Yeah, sorry, it’s just— Wow. I can’t believe I’m really here! I haven’t seen you in forever!”
Kokomi giggles. “I’m glad you came,” she says. “I was worried they may give you some trouble trying to get backstage, even with the pass.” She turns away, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Lord knows there have been countless crazed fans trying to make counterfeit passes so they can get closer to me. Let me gather my things, and then we can leave.”
“Oh, yeah, sure!” Chiyo watches in silence, for a moment, and Kokomi folds up her clothes and packs them into a bag. “Thanks again for all this, by the way. You didn’t really need to pay for my hotel or anything.”
“I wanted to,” Kokomi insists. She slings her bag over her shoulder, then turns to face Chiyo with a soft smile—one that Chiyo hasn’t seen since the last time they video called, because it’s one she doesn’t show the press or her fans. It’s something much more private, reserved for the people she calls friends.
Chiyo swallows thickly. “Oh.”
“I have a driver waiting for me,” Kokomi continues, before she can spiral any further. “She knows you’ll be coming with us. As long as that’s alright?”
Chiyo nods. “Yep!”
She follows Kokomi through the halls behind the stage, and then out through a back door where there’s a car waiting for them, exactly as promised. They sit side-by-side in the backseat, and the driver doesn’t say a word to them apart from an initial greeting and confirming the hotel address with Kokomi. Chiyo watches Kokomi from the corner of her eye, not wanting to be caught staring but still a little in awe of the fact that Kokomi is really next to her after so long spent apart.
Memories from the concert are still running rampant through her mind, too. Namely Kokomi spotting her in the crowd, and waving, and then blowing a kiss. It was all normal idol things, so Chiyo is pretty sure it was meaningless. Kokomi was on stage—she was performing. She was literally putting on a show, and Chiyo being in the audience wouldn’t change that, but—
She feels all warm and tingly inside when she remembers it.
The impulsive, reckless, part of her wants to ask Kokomi about it. But she knows better than to be presumptuous; if she brings it up and it really didn’t mean anything, she’ll be no better than the rest of Kokomi’s shallow fans who believe every smile she gives the camera is specifically for them. And that is the one thing Chiyo swore she would never be.
The ride to the hotel isn’t terribly long, and Chiyo is sort of expecting that to mark her and Kokomi’s parting of ways—except, when they go to check in, the man at the front desk bows deeply in apology as he explains that they had a water pipe burst, so they’ve had to rearrange things since they’re now low on available rooms.
“I am terribly sorry, Teruhashi-san. We have upgraded your room to a penthouse suite, but I’m afraid we’ve had to relocate your friend to a different wing.”
Chiyo looks over to Kokomi.
“I intended for us to have neighboring rooms,” she explains. “But surely the penthouse would be big enough for more than one person…?”
The hotel manager, or whoever he is, straightens up. He adjusts his glasses. “There is plenty of space for two, but we wouldn’t ask you to share—”
“It’s fine,” Kokomi assures him. She glances at Chiyo. “As long as that’s okay with you?”
“Of course!” Chiyo nods emphatically. Because why would she give up an opportunity to be in a penthouse suite??? She already came this far; she’d be crazy to turn down that offer just because she’s harboring a little guilt over her feelings. Besides, she and Kokomi used to share the twin bed in Chiyo’s room when they had sleepovers. Of course, she didn’t really know what her feelings for Kokomi were back then, but that’s irrelevant. Everything will be fine!
There are probably separate beds in the room they gave Kokomi anyway.
“Very well.” The hotel manager nods. “Give me one moment to cancel Yumehara-san’s room. You will be fully refunded for the second room, of course, and there will be no surcharge for the upgrade.”
Kokomi beams. “Thank you so much!”
Chiyo offers a smile too, through the incessant pounding of her heart and the warmth settling in her cheeks. As the manager updates things in his computer, Kokomi links her arm with Chiyo’s, leaning into her space. “It’ll be just like in high school!” she gushes.
“Right,” Chiyo agrees.
(She doesn’t let herself dwell on the statement any further than that.)
Kokomi is freaking out.
(Just a little bit.)
It made the most sense for her and Chiyo to just share the upgraded room, especially since the whole point of booking Chiyo a room at the same hotel was so they could be neighbors. But now that they’re actually here, standing in the entryway and gazing at the sprawling penthouse before them, Kokomi is jittery with anxiety. Even though there’s clearly more than enough room for the two of them—they could probably go the entire night without interacting once.
Kokomi really doesn’t want that, though.
She wants to share the bed in Chiyo’s room like they did in high school. Bare arms brushing, giggling under the covers, whispering back and forth until sleep came for them both…
Chiyo takes a hesitant step forward. “I feel like I’m not supposed to be here,” she admits, letting out a nervous laugh. She glances over her shoulder at Kokomi. “Do you get to stay in places like this often?”
Kokomi hums an affirmative. She doesn’t even need to seek it out—she often finds her room upgraded to the fanciest one any hotel has to offer as soon as the person in charge sees her name. And the luxury is nice of course, but…
“I don’t typically have much time to appreciate the fancy rooms,” she admits. “Even when I do…” she shrugs. “I imagine it’s much more fun when you have someone to share the experience with.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m here!”
Chiyo reaches for her hand, then, and Kokomi lets her take it. She drags her towards the living area so they can put their bags down, but Kokomi isn’t taking in her surroundings; she’s staring at their interlocked fingers.
Once they’ve set down their things, Chiyo insists that they explore. So they open every drawer in the kitchenette, and then each dresser in both bedrooms. They admire the opulent baths and test each couch and chair to see which seat is most comfortable, then throw themselves onto the bigger of the two beds, sinking into the cloudy mattress.
Chiyo lets out a dreamy sigh. “This is soo comfy; I’m never going to be able to sleep anywhere else after this!”
Kokomi laughs. Chiyo’s eyes are shut as she lays on her back, arms spread, a grin pressed to her face. She looks beautiful like this—casual and domestic—and Kokomi’s brain-to-mouth filter must not be working right, because she hears herself say, “The beds aren’t always as nice as this, but I’d let you stay with me any time.”
She regrets the words as soon as they’re out of her mouth, afraid of how Chiyo might react to something so forward. But after a split-second that seems to stretch into an eternity, she hears a laugh.
“I wish I could,” Chiyo replies, voice wistful. She moves her hand, letting it rest atop Kokomi’s. “I’d love nothing more than to live in luxury with you forever.”
Kokomi escapes to the bathroom shortly after that, with a flustered excuse about how she needs to shower. Chiyo says she wants to soak in the bath anyway, so they head in opposite directions and Kokomi spends about thirty minutes in the shower trying not to think herself in circles. Because Chiyo has been her friend for years, so her expressing interest in an impossible dream of them living somewhere fancy together doesn’t necessarily mean anything.
Even if Kokomi wants it to.
Even if she would love to whisk Chiyo away from her ordinary life and bring her around the world with her instead. They could explore Kokomi’s extravagant hotel rooms together, and Chiyo would be there to cheer her on at every show, and afterwards, Kokomi would have someone who she can truly relax around. Every night would be reminiscent of their high school days, when it was just Kokomi and Chiyo, and nothing else mattered.
And maybe—
Maybe, Chiyo would feel the same way about Kokomi that Kokomi feels about her. That soft, glittery, musical sense of comfort and desire that Kokomi assumes must be love.
When Chiyo emerges from her bath, she wanders aimlessly around the room until she spots Kokomi outside on the balcony. After a moment of hesitation, she heads for the door and lets herself outside as well.
“Kokomi?”
“Oh!” Kokomi starts, then turns to face Chiyo with a smile. “I didn’t realize you were done, sorry. I was just admiring the view.”
Chiyo looks up, out at the city surrounding them. The skyscrapers with windows alight, reaching towards a dark sky; the cars and streetlights below. All while the moon shines overhead, full and bright. It really is beautiful.
But it can’t hold a candle to Kokomi.
Chiyo comes to stand beside her, hands resting on the railing. “Sorry if I came on too strong earlier,” she mumbles. “I just…really missed you, I guess.”
“Huh?” Kokomi turns to face her, eyebrows furrowed. “Why? If anything, I should be apologizing to you.”
Chiyo blinks. “For what?”
“Because I—” Kokomi stops. “Well, it’s just…I know, obviously, you can’t just drop everything to come on tour with me. That’d be crazy! Not that I wouldn’t love to have you, but you’re so close to getting your degree and everything. So, like, obviously the offer would totally be open if you ever wanted to accept, but I don’t want you thinking I’m trying to force it onto you! That wouldn’t be fair.”
Chiyo shakes her head. “You wouldn’t be forcing anything onto me. Honestly, I think living life as an idol wife would be sorta dreamy.” A second passes, and Kokomi’s eyes widen, and then Chiyo realizes what exactly she just said. “I mean— Not that I would be your wife— And, uh, not that there’s anything wrong with that either; I totally support gay marriage! We should have more gay idols with gay wives! And husbands! Like, okay, I know it’s not legal but the point still stands. I love gay people; I’m literally bi. And, like, I’d be your idol wife if you asked me to, but—just as a friend thing!”
There’s a tense beat of silence.
And then Kokomi asks, “You’re bi?”
Chiyo hesitates. “…Yes? Um.” She winces. “Did I…not tell you?”
“No?” Kokomi shakes her head. “Of course, you shouldn’t feel obligated to tell anyone, so I’m not upset or anything. It’s not like anyone knows that I’m—”
“You’re…?” Chiyo prompts, chest tight and stomach twisting.
Kokomi looks away, back to the cityscape. “It doesn’t matter,” she whispers. “Nothing will ever come of it anyway. I don’t think I could fall in love with anyone who can’t see me.”
Without thinking, Chiyo replies, “I see you.”
Kokomi turns. She meets Chiyo’s gaze, and Chiyo does not see the same Kokomi who performs on stage for tens of thousands of fans or the Kokomi presented in interviews and photoshoots; she sees her friend.
“I know,” Kokomi says. She reaches out, tucking Chiyo’s hair behind her ear, then traces her fingers along Chiyo’s jawline. Before she can pull away, Chiyo catches Kokomi’s wrist in her hand, holding her still.
For a moment, they just look at each other.
“Oh,” Kokomi whispers.
And then she’s surging forward, closing the distance between them and pressing her lips against Chiyo’s.
The kiss is better than anything Chiyo could have possibly imagined; none of her fantasies have come close to this. Because Kokomi is here, for real, her hands cradling Chiyo’s face like she’s something to be treasured. Chiyo fumbles in her haste to kiss back, but Kokomi doesn’t pull away.
She keeps Chiyo close until they fall into a rhythm, kissing each other breathless in the cool night.
When they do finally break apart, Chiyo’s lungs feel ready to burst. Kokomi is smiling at her, affection shining in her eyes with such weight that it could knock Chiyo off her feet. She tightens her grip on Kokomi, holding fast as if her life depends on it.
“We won’t be able to tell anyone,” Kokomi warns.
Chiyo shakes her head. “I don’t care. I just want you in whatever way you’ll have me.”
“You’re certain?”
“I’ve been certain.” Chiyo has never cared about showing Kokomi off to the world or publicly claiming her. She doesn’t want to use Kokomi’s popularity and fame to boost her own, or to use her as proof that she has a successful life. None of that matters.
All that matters is Chiyo gets to see the version of Kokomi that exists behind her idol persona. The Kokomi that exists here, now, in this moment, when it’s only the two of them.
Kokomi nods, albeit hesitantly. “Okay. I’d like that, too. To have you in whatever way you want.”
Chiyo beams. She wraps her arms around Kokomi, pulling her into a tight hug. “I’d like to be your best friend and be in love with you,” she says. “I mean, like, I already am both of those things, but—”
“That sounds perfect to me,” Kokomi interrupts. “Best friends and in love. I can’t think of anything that would suit us more.”