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“Have I ever told you that I hate the person I become when I'm with you?” Hikari asks. Her eyes grazed along the softness of Miyako’s cheek, the dip of her chin that turned fatal. Hikari turns away, always. She only looks past her, refusing to acknowledge how Miyako had dolled herself up for this. It is absolutely venomless, a sad smile playing on her face.
But Miyako only grins in that way of hers, all-knowing and captivating. The shine of pearly fluorescence kissing her teeth—it's the last little piece of light that Hikari sees before she crumbles.
There's no need for small talk about her plans, they'd done enough of that at yesterday's seeing off party. Miyako who'd planned the whole thing herself, and made sure everyone has a chance to stroke her ego by making all of them pick up a mic and stammer out her best qualities and how much they'd miss her so, so much.
Friends and family had been there. Everyone from Miyako’s first cousins to Hikari’s own mother. When it was Hikari’s turn to grab the mic after Daisuke spat out some short and sweet message with a red face turned away so no one could see the wetness in his eyes, she spoke of this.
The people gathered here to celebrate Miyako, the support and love given to her wholeheartedly, and well wishes for good heath and safe travels.
Not a single word that spoke anything on the levels of their impossible connection, of how shadows curled and faded around Miyako’s beautiful form as if she was owed the light that shone bright atop the crown of her scalp. Hikari, who's felt the weight of Miyako’s beating heart in her chest, could only speak the words of a stranger.
But, there's only Hikari and Miyako now. Five in the morning. The sun has barely begun to rise above the tip of a far away shoreline. Hikari thinks of a dark coast, the waves that threaten to drag her in by the heels, the push and pull of her mind lulled into the bottom of the trench. Miyako, who pulled her out and breathed life into her lungs.
As if punishment for the flash of disappointment on Miyako’s face after Hikari’s pathetic attempt of a speech, only Hikari was able to come to Miyako’s send-off. Miyako sits next to her, bundled up in a blanket as she leans onto Hikari’s shoulder. There isn't a thump in her chest that can distract her from the anxiety boiling inside of her.
Miyako, who's probably going to meet the man of her dreams like they always talked about in coming of age movies. As if it wasn't Hikari who she always dragged out to watch with her, all the way back to 2002. When Miyako still had baby fat clinging to her cheeks, and Hikari’s knees were always raw with a new injury.
Swallowing this down felt like nothing but ice and poison, sitting heavy in her gut with a crushing weight. Miyako promised to call, to text, to tell Hikari all about the sights and scenery she'll be missing out on. Just last week, Miyako had even apologized to her as if she had to. As if she personally owed Hikari her presence, and that she could stop herself from shining so brightly to be noticed by a university abroad.
No. Even if Hikari had deluded herself in the past that they'd stay together, even if she couldn't have Miyako in the way she quietly began to want, there was always some existing part of her that it couldn't be. Miyako is brilliant, after all. No matter if the girl could forget to see that when she wallows in her faults too deep.
Hikari bumps against her shoulder, burying her temple into the curve just enough to catch the scent of Miyako’s subtle perfume. Something like honeycomb and lilies. This was Hikari’s Christmas gift to her just last year.
Two hours before Miyako’s flight to Spain, Hikari finally allows herself to be brave.
Despite that, Hikari could not remember covering her face in her palms. “Miyako-san, I love you.”
These words don't have the bite Hikari had prepared herself for. Even as wetness clings to her trembling eyelashes behind her fingers, Hikari has never felt lighter in her life. Logically, there is more after this—but Hikari has already cut the arteries of her heart to leave at the entrance of the airport. She is prepared to bury it at Miyako’s feet where she last stood in Japan.
But Miyako is coming back. Hikari knows this. And she also knows by admitting her overgrown affections, the ease of their bond will never come back. Unless, of course, if Miyako were to—
A choked sob rips from her throat. There's no hiding anything anymore. Hikari’s shoulders twitch when she feels Miyako’s arm coming to wrap around her side, pulling the other girl close to her.
Patiently, she waits for Hikari to remove her hands. Miyako is well-aware of Hikari’s more mature self, now. She knows she can handle this herself, and face her head-on.
And when Hikari finally does, she's sniffing away her snot before dragging her puffy eyes up to look at Miyako.
A few strands of Miyako’s hair clung to her cheeks, red with blood beneath the skin that was sticky with tears.
“I wish you'd told me sooner,” Miyako tells her. “We could've done a lot of date-stuff before I left. Hikari-chan, if you gave me flowers, I'd have dried and pressed them between a book to keep it as a bookmark.”
Hikari looks stunned, but a wonky smile is quick to form over her lips. “There's a stall here that sells some. Shall I buy you a bouquet?”
Miyako blushes, laughing. Hikari has already memorized the pitch and lows of Miyako’s laughter many years ago, and finds herself carving the frequency onto what little surface of her heart hasn't already dedicated to Miyako’s characteristics.
“I trust you know the flowers I like,” Miyako smiles, before shyly looking away. “Hikari-chan, you know, I like you a lot too.”
“Like?” Hikari squints. “I said love.”
Miyako sweats, red in the face while shaking her hands in front of her as defense. “Maybe later!”
And Miyako does end up saying it, standing by the exit with her arms full of a bouquet of fiery red lilies. Hikari tucks away the profile of Miyako’s profile in her mind, and later leaves the airport with a light, airy feeling shifting comfortably in her chest.
Thus came a new issue in the form of jetlag.