Chapter Text
The walk back to Kohane’s house had been quiet, but it was that warm, comfortable kind of quiet that always settled over them after a really good practice. Still, by the time they took off their shoes in the entryway, Kohane felt completely sticky and exhausted.
"Um, An-chan...?" Kohane asked softly, clutching her towel to her chest. "You must be so tired. You can use the shower first, if you'd like...!"
An, whose cheeks were already dusted with a bright pink flush, waved her hands frantically. "No, no! I'm totally fine! I barely broke a sweat today! You go ahead, Kohane, seriously!"
Kohane blinked, tilting her head a little. An-chan is amazing... she thought, full of pure admiration. We danced so much, but she doesn't even seem tired at all. I want to build up my stamina to be just like her.
"If you're really sure..." Kohane smiled gently, gathering her change of clothes. "I'll try to be quick!"
She stepped into her en-suite bathroom and softly closed the door. She still didn't really understand why the apartment was designed this way. There was a large glass panel connecting the bathroom right to the bedroom. The bottom half was frosted, but the top half was completely clear. It always made her feel a tiny bit shy, but... well, it was only An-chan out there, so it was okay!
Humming a soft little melody from their setlist, Kohane unzipped her damp jacket and pulled it off. Ah... that feels much better, she thought. She grabbed the hem of her sweat-drenched t-shirt and pulled it over her head, grateful for the cool air against her skin.
As she reached for the shower dial, she happened to glance up through the clear half of the glass partition.
An-chan was acting... strange.
She was sitting on the edge of Kohane's bed with her knees pulled tightly to her chest. Both of her hands were clamped over her eyes, but Kohane could see that An's shoulders were trembling. As Kohane watched, An slowly dragged her hands down her face, looking absolutely tormented, before flopping backward and burying her face completely into Kohane's favorite throw pillow. She looked like she was trying very, very hard not to scream.
Kohane’s hand paused on the faucet, her heart giving a little squeeze of worry.
Ah... An-chan... Her chest ached with sympathetic concern. She must be agonizing over that one time our harmony drifted during the bridge section. An was always so cool and confident on stage, but Kohane knew how strict she was with herself behind the scenes. It was the only reason she would look so utterly distressed while sitting all alone in the quiet bedroom.
I know exactly how she feels... Kohane thought, her own brow furrowing with empathy. When you make a mistake, it just keeps replaying in your head until it feels like you can't breathe.
She turned the shower handle, resolving to be as fast as possible.
I need to hurry up and wash, Kohane decided, nodding to herself. As soon as I'm clean, I'm going to make her some warm honey tea, sit right next to her, and tell her how absolutely amazing her singing was today! I won't let her be sad!
-
An Shiraishi was not going to survive this afternoon.
She was currently face-down on Kohane’s mattress, which was her first critical mistake. The bed was an absolute sensory landmine. The pillows, the duvet, the very air around her—everything smelled distinctly, overwhelmingly like Kohane. It was a soft, clean scent, a mix of sun-dried laundry and that ridiculously practical eucalyptus shampoo Kohane always used. To An’s hyperactive, hopelessly smitten brain, lying there felt like being wrapped in a warm, Kohane-scented hug. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the world.
But her ears were actively betraying her. From the other side of the glass, she could hear the shower running, accompanied by the soft, incredibly sweet sound of Kohane happily humming the melody to their newest song.
And her memory was currently projecting the image she had just seen onto the back of her eyelids in devastating high definition.
Seriously, what kind of chaotic architect designs an apartment with a glass wall between the bathroom and the bedroom?! Sure, the bottom half was frosted, but the top half was crystal clear. And Kohane, in all her sweet, trusting, oblivious glory, hadn't even hesitated before taking her clothes off.
An hadn’t meant to look. She really hadn't! But human reflex had betrayed her right at the exact moment Kohane pulled her shirt over her head, revealing her incredibly normal, everyday underwear. It wasn't meant to be an alluring moment. It was literally just Kohane getting ready for a shower.
But that was exactly the problem. The sheer, casual, domestic trust of it all had hit An like a physical blow.
She trusts me, An wailed internally, gripping the bedsheets. She trusts me so much she doesn't even think twice about changing with the door unlocked, and here I am, losing my mind over her midriff! I'm the worst partner ever! I'm a degenerate!
An’s heart was hammering so fast against her ribs that she genuinely wondered if she was going to pass out. Her face was blazing hot, radiating enough heat to iron the pillowcase she was currently screaming into. She clamped both hands over her nose, suddenly terrified that the sheer spike in her blood pressure was going to trigger a massive nosebleed right all over Kohane's pristine, adorable hamster-themed blankets.
Breathe, An, she chanted internally, squeezing her eyes shut even tighter. You are a cool, confident street musician. You are supposed to protect her! You are not going to pass out just because your extremely cute best friend is ten feet away!
Through the glass, the blurred silhouette of Kohane stepped under the spray of the shower. The humming grew a little louder, shifting into a cheerful, slightly off-beat rhythm as Kohane began washing her hair, completely unaware of the absolute crisis happening in her bedroom.
An let out a muffled, high-pitched whimper into the mattress. She was absolutely, one-hundred-percent going to pass out.
-
The shower turned off with a soft squeak, leaving the bathroom quiet except for the sound of water dripping onto the tiles. Kohane carefully wrung the excess water from her hair, letting out a happy little sigh. She felt so much better!
But as she reached for the towel rack, she froze.
Ah... Kohane blinked, her hand hovering in the air. I... completely forgot to bring my pajamas in here.
She looked around helplessly. Normally, she would just quickly wrap herself in a large bath towel and walk the few steps to her dresser, but she had forgotten to do the laundry, leaving only two small, standard hand towels on the rack.
Kohane bit her lip, her cheeks warming up a little. Uu... this is kind of embarrassing... If she was alone, she would just run to the dresser, but An-chan was out there. It felt incredibly rude to walk out completely unclothed with a guest over!
But it's just An-chan! Kohane reasoned, trying to encourage herself. She won't mind if I look a little silly for a second.
Doing her absolute best, Kohane wrapped one small towel tightly around her chest, tucking the corner under her arm, and tied the second one around her waist. It really wasn't much coverage at all—her stomach, shoulders, and legs were completely exposed—but she hoped it was enough to be polite. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the bathroom door open.
A soft cloud of warm, sweet-smelling steam rolled out into the bedroom.
"An-chan...?" Kohane called out gently, stepping onto the carpet.
On the bed, An Shiraishi completely ceased to function.
If seeing Kohane through the glass had been a shock, seeing her step out of the steam, dripping wet and wearing almost nothing but two tiny squares of terrycloth, was a devastating critical hit. An’s eyes went impossibly wide. The flush that had been slowly fading from her cheeks came roaring back with a vengeance, turning her face a brilliant, burning shade of red.
Kohane immediately noticed, her eyes widening with pure, instinctual panic.
"A-An-chan?!" Kohane gasped, taking a quick step forward, completely forgetting her own embarrassing lack of clothes. "Are you okay?! Your face is completely red...!"
An’s mouth opened, but her vocal cords absolutely refused to work. Her eyes darted wildly at the ceiling, the floor, the walls—anywhere to avoid looking at the damp expanse of Kohane’s waist.
"Did you catch a fever?" Kohane pressed, her voice trembling with genuine, sweet worry. She wanted to reach out and check An's forehead, taking another step closer. "Or... are you still feeling sick about practice? Oh no, let me get you a cool washcloth...!"
"Squeak," An managed. It was a tiny, high-pitched sound that sounded nothing like the cool, confident girl who sang at Weekend Garage.
Before Kohane could take another step, An launched herself off the mattress like she had been electrified. Moving faster than Kohane had ever seen her move in her entire life, An scrambled across the room, snatched her duffel bag off the floor, and practically threw herself through the open bathroom door.
"I'm-gonna-shower-now-thanks-Kohane-you're-the-best-bye!" An shouted in one single, breathless panic.
The bathroom door slammed shut. A split second later, the shower turned on full blast.
Kohane stood frozen in the middle of the bedroom, blinking in completely adorable confusion as a drop of water slid down her shoulder.
An-chan is so fast... Kohane thought, her head tilting slightly to the side. ...Ah! She must have suddenly realized how sticky she felt! It made perfect sense to Kohane. Sometimes the post-practice sweat didn't bother you until you finally sat down and relaxed. Relieved that An wasn't coming down with a terrible cold, Kohane offered a soft, fond smile toward the bathroom door. She quickly turned around and hurried to her dresser to finally put on her pajamas, determined to have that warm tea ready the second An came back out.
-
The digital clock on Kohane’s nightstand quietly flipped to 2:14 AM.
An Shiraishi had been awake for every single minute of it.
She was lying perfectly rigid on the guest futon Kohane had painstakingly arranged on the floor, staring intensely at the dark ceiling. Above her, on the low-profile bed, Kohane was radiating the peaceful, rhythmic breathing of someone having the sweetest dreams imaginable. For An, however, sleep was entirely off the table. Her adrenaline was still running way too high, her brain endlessly replaying the fact that the girl she was completely, hopelessly in love with was sleeping less than an arm's length away.
An risked a tiny, agonizingly slow glance to her left.
In the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains, she could see Kohane completely burrito-ed in her blankets. Tucked securely under her chin was an impossibly soft, round stuffed hamster. Kohane was hugging it gently, her face buried in its plush head with a tiny, contented smile.
An swallowed hard, her heart doing a complicated gymnastics routine against her ribs. It was objectively the cutest thing she had ever seen in her entire life. The urge to cross the few inches of space, brush the blonde hair out of Kohane's face, and maybe just... hold her hand, was a gravitational pull.
But slamming directly into that instinct was the iron-clad wall of An’s conscience. Kohane trusted her so much. Kohane let her sleep on her floor, in her room, completely unguarded, and she had looked so genuinely happy about it. If An so much as breathed too romantically in her direction, she felt like she would be tainting the purest, sweetest friendship she had ever known.
I am a guardian of this peace, An told herself fiercely, gripping the edges of her blanket. I am a noble knight. I will protect this sleepover with my life.
Rustle.
An froze.
Above her, the blankets shifted. A soft thump echoed in the quiet room as the stuffed hamster tumbled off the edge of the mattress and landed gently near An’s shoulder.
Before An could even process the tragic loss of the hamster, there was a much larger shift. Kohane mumbled something soft and completely incoherent—sounding a bit like, "Mm... An-chan... too far..."—and then a mess of blankets, limbs, and eucalyptus-scented shampoo slid haphazardly off the edge of the low mattress.
An gasped, throwing her hands up to catch her, terrified Kohane was going to hit the floorboards and wake up in a panic.
But Kohane didn't wake up. Driven entirely by the sleep-addled, subconscious instinct of a girl who just really, really loved her best friend, Kohane didn't even try to get back into bed. Instead, she let out a soft, happy little sigh and immediately began burrowing under An's blanket.
Wait, An thought, her eyes widening in sheer, unadulterated terror. Wait, no, abort—
It was way too late. Kohane shuffled forward, completely bypassing any known societal boundaries regarding personal space, and wedged herself firmly against An's side. She threw one arm casually across An's stomach, tucked her face directly into the crook of An’s neck, and let out a long, peaceful breath.
To Kohane's sleeping brain, An was simply warm, safe, and her favorite person in the world. Why wouldn't she want to be as close to her as possible?
To An, it was the end of the world.
Every single muscle in An’s body locked up. She was suddenly hyper-aware of everything: the soft, warm puff of Kohane’s breath against her collarbone, the gentle weight of Kohane's arm across her waist, the impossibly soft tickle of blonde hair against her cheek. It was a flood of sensory intimacy so intense that An genuinely worried her heart was going to beat completely out of her chest and wake up the entire apartment complex.
I am dying, An concluded wildly, staring at the ceiling with wide, terrified eyes. This is it. This is how I go. Defeated by the purest girl on planet Earth.
She desperately wanted to move. She needed to gently roll Kohane back onto her own bed to preserve whatever shredded dignity she had left! But at the same time... Kohane felt incredibly soft. She felt safe, and warm, and she was holding onto An like An was the most comforting thing in the universe.
If An moved, this perfect, quiet moment would end.
I am in heaven, An corrected herself. I am in heaven, and I am never, ever going to sleep again.
"Goodnight, Kohane," An whispered into the dark, her voice trembling with the weight of a secret she couldn't say out loud.
Kohane just hummed softly in her sleep, nuzzling a little closer.