Work Text:
'Fujino,' She turned towards the voice; 'Thank you for bringing me out of my room.' The train cart clattered along, the scenes outside left faster than the could come, leaving behind an impressionist blur. Kyomoto's presence was light—fleeting almost—she stared down into her lap and smiled.
Fujino and Kyomoto (as Kyo Fujino, of course) were going to continue publishing together, one-shots for now, but eventually a serialised manga. They discussed it hundreds of times, how they would go on adventures so that they could write and illustrate incredible stories together, forever!
This plan was working so far, having published plenty of one-shots, they spent all of their time together, building their skills and experiencing the world.
Fujino looked over to see Kyomoto drawing, her left hand moving about the page rapidly, her skill apparent as she worked. Forests, seas, rows on rows of buildings, she captured environments so easily. Like she just got drawing and if Fujino were to be truthful, she would say that she was jealous. So, so jealous, Kyomoto drove Fujino to get better every single day and was blissfully unaware to it.
'We're getting serialised?' Her voice came out higher than intended, excitement evident. She looked over to Kyomoto; expecting to see the enthusiasm evident on her face—even if she didn't say anything. She looked conflicted, uneasy, an impression of her face left in Fujino's head as she looked down into her orange juice.
'I... Can't help with the manga series...' Fujino could see her fists balling up, arms falling at her sides.
Where was this coming from? Has she just forgotten about our plans, our forever? Has she realised that there's better things for her out there than me? Does she not care? Does she not care about everything we've worked towards? Fujino turned around quickly, a flurry of different emotions threatening to reveal themselves.
Her eyes split open, stinging with that familiar sadness before she was aware of anything. Then she became all too aware of everything.
The cold air felt sharp against Fujino's face, the dark only making it less welcoming. Her bedsheets itched against her skin (the way Kyomoto always said she hated.) A strange painful numbness fell over her (as it usually did now.)
A year since Kyomoto died, and yet Fujino had been mourning her for much longer. Starting when she lost her and while she didn't think it was forever at the time—it was.