Chapter Text
Nimble fingers traced over the texture of the red ribbon. Mizuki was using that velvety string to make a knot, tying two collar pieces together in a cute way. The room was dark, messy. A shallow light she flicked on above her was the only source of brightness, only meant to fall on the mannequin’s dress and its details.
Words lingered, ringing in her ears.
‘Ah, does that mean you’re a boy too?’
‘What did you mean by I’m normal?’
She tried not to let the heaviness affect her hands—she really tried. For days, she hadn’t gotten out of her bed without a struggle, much less go to school. At least in the dulled room, she could be as exposed as she wished, and she wouldn’t be seen. If she were to go to school, to meet An and her friends…
Her chest ached at the thought. Her eyelids squeezed shut before her gaze fell on the ribbon she tied. Right, she was making a dress. Something to calm her down, to motivate her to continue living again. Even if she was a coward, maybe she could at least redeem herself to pick up the pieces. To return to her life, to avoid Nightcord and allow them that peace to move on. She couldn’t hide in the Empty Sekai forever—she may not even belong there anymore.
Her breath hitched at the thought. Not belong anymore. She shook her head—the dress, she was working on the dress.
She wanted to fix up the collar, and refine its intricacies before adjusting the lower half of the mannequin, its skirt. The upper section was nearly finished before the festival… So she wanted to finish the remainder of the outfit before she'd forget about the inner details that lay in her messy sketches and idea phases.
She picked up a pair of scissors, holding them against the ribbon. She remembered how she picked the color.
‘Oh Enanan~’ Mizuki teased.
‘Oh, what do you want?’ Ena would grumble, irritable and groggy that evening.
At the time, she sent a picture of two different ribbons: a blue ribbon, and a red one.
‘Which one do you think would suit the dress better?’ Mizuki asks, before adding with a sly smile, ‘Being our art expert.’
‘...Red.’ The brunette replied after a moment. ‘It’ll compliment the rest of the palette well-’
‘Wait- Mizuki!’
She hadn’t even cut the ribbon from the rest of the roll before both the ribbon’s roll and scissors fell to the ground. That raspy voice Ena used to call for her. The way she kept running, vision blurring until her aching lungs forced her to stop. She spent her days in dazedness, in self-critique she’d ultimately detach herself down with every limp movement. But now, when she had to apply such detailed focus into a craft, she couldn’t. Her mind kept flooding to the events of the festival.
She weakly pushed the mannequin—her art—from the light, Mizuki herself taking further and further steps away. She heard it fall weakly on the floor as her footsteps echoed in the bedroom, the space under the light now empty. That scrutiny on her when she arrived to the roof, the stares, Ena’s face as she ran-
She tripped back on her bed, her breath in and out as puffs. She wanted to stay close to Nightcord. That safety she felt under their ties, it was undeniable to her. The close conversations she had with Mafuyu, a silent concession that maybe they were more similar than they spoke aloud. The high adoration she and Kanade both had for each other, even though Mizuki thought she didn’t deserve the awe in Kanade’s eyes. The banter she’d pass back and forth with Ena that kept their conversations light, something to help her feel better after a long day.
She missed it—she missed it deeply, and yet, the thought of meeting them again terrified her. The thought of them treating her as somebody in need of pitiful care—like a glass that would shatter on touch—made her feel naked. If she lost that safe space, lost the ability to be herself around them, it would hurt more than if she were to just leave their ties on an open-end.
Mizuki sat up on her bed, a familiar device under her palm’s reach. She took her phone, disappointed in herself yet comforted as she played ‘Composing the Future’ once again. She was a coward, but at least this way, she shut down the pain that made her want to disappear.