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“And that’s… hanamaru case closed…!”
Mikuru glanced over, snapped out of her trance by Anna’s slurred drawling. She smiled fondly, reaching a shaky hand over her sleeping form to brush a stray lock of hair from where it’d fallen into her agape, drooling mouth.
“It’s a wonder that she can sleep so soundly after everything…” Mikuru sighed wistfully, letting the soggy strands slip between her fingers before bringing her hand back to her lap. After a second of hesitation, as though she feared Anna would inexplicably vanish if she were to do so, Mikuru managed to tear her gaze away and stared pensively into the cracks of the floorboards.
July, 1999. The first day of that fateful month was only two months, or 8 weeks away. That was the timeframe they’d been granted to figure out how to rewrite the foretold future, and put a stop to Usonoir’s plans.
Mikuru leaned forward to hold her throbbing, spinning head in her hands. Her quiet, reluctant suspicions of the London branch hummed louder than ever, with all of her worst fears and somehow more having been blatantly confirmed just a few hours prior. Just why were they withholding so much crucial information from them? If they’d been hiding something like this, the limits were endless to what else they could possibly be keeping the Makoto Mirai branch deliberately in the dark on. Had Mikuru erred as a Detective, as a Chief? Was she somehow untrustworthy?
“Oh? Do they really protect others?”
With the crackling of static, Luluka’s mysteriously compelling comment echoed through Mikuru’s skull, drowning out any shrill screeches of self-blame.
Mikuru quickly shook her head. She hardly knew who, or what to believe anymore as her neat, clear-cut mindscape grew warped and muddied. If there was one thing she was sure of however, it was that she was getting fed up with this blind rat race she’d been thrust into, whoever the looming mastermind truly was.
“Mmm… Mama…”
Mikuru’s eyes widened as she snapped to attention, turning back to face Anna. Though she still appeared to be sleeping peacefully, her mouth had at some point clamped shut. Mikuru watched as her fingertips curled slightly around the pillow, as though reaching out to take hold of something that wasn’t there.
A bitter ache coursed through Mikuru’s chest, her jaw clenching tightly on its own accord. None of this should have ever been a burden that Akechi Anna had to bear. By this point, she should have been back safe and sound in her own time, her own house, her own bed…
And yet, despite the fact that Mikuru had promised her she’d get her there, she hadn’t made a lick of progress to show for it.
Some detective she was, right?
As always, before Mikuru could realize, her vision blurred and a thick knot settled uncomfortably in her throat, to be disparaged only by the choked sob that escaped her lips. Her eyelids, heavy and weary, released her bitter tears without resistance; and as she leaned her head back against the couch a salty stream trickled down her scabbed, battered cheek. She’d learned quickly, much to her and Anna’s dismay, that injuries sustained while in Cure form didn’t always disappear with the termination of their transformations.
Suddenly, a quiet rustling sounded beside her.
“… Mikuru? What’s wrong?”
Mikuru’s eyes grew wide, and she scrambled to wipe them with the back of her hand. “A-Anna! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you!” she stammered out, desperately trying to mask her wavering voice. As Anna’s brows furrowed around her tired eyes in deep concern, Mikuru plastered on the best reassuring grin she could. “I’m fine, really! Don’t worry about it!”
Unconvinced, Anna rubbed the sleep from her eye as she sat up. “It’s… it’s okay if you’re not, you know,” she whispered, reaching across the blanket and placing her hand down for Mikuru to take if she chose. “I think anyone would be, after… all that.”
The solemn silence between them hung thick for a few long moments, and it wasn’t until a howling gust of wind echoed faintly through the walls that Mikuru spoke again.
“It’s just…” her voice cracked, and she awkwardly cleared her throat. “It’s not fair. That you have to put your own life on hold to deal with the fate of the universe.” she weakly muttered. Though her words should have been near comically absurd, that was in fact the bitter reality Akechi Anna was forced to reckon with.
Anna flashed a weak, lopsided grin as she scratched at the back of her head. “… You’re right, it’s not. But I told you, didn’t I? I’m going to prove whatever that old book says wrong…with my own two hands,” her brows furrowed momentarily, before softening again as she continued. “Besides… after we get all that out of the way, I know we’ll find a way to get me back together! It’s… it’s hard, sure, but… I’m trying not to worry about it too much. I think we just need to take it one day at a time, and do whatever it is we can do right now.”
The room fell silent once more as Mikuru struggled to find her words. Even now, Anna still placed unwavering faith in her and the logic-bending vow she’d made on the porch that evening.
Mikuru turned away as that same familiar lump awkwardly bubbled back up, unable to face Anna as she asked the only question she could seem to muster in the moment.
“… Don’t you miss your Mother?”
Mikuru honed her vision in on the corner of the ceiling, quelling any nervous temptation to peek at what kind of expression Anna must have been making in her own painfully quiet thought.
“I just…” Mikuru continued, “sometimes it sounds like you’re searching for her in your dreams, so I was-”
“I do,” Anna started, abruptly interjecting. “A lot, both miss her and dream about her. She’s a great Mom, y’know. I think about her all the time, but…”
Mikuru finally glanced over, met with the sight of Anna smiling fondly despite her evidently glassy eyes. She moved again to scratch at her neck before continuing with a shaky chuckle. “It’s… it’s kinda hard to say out loud, but for some reason, being with you reminds me of her. It… it really helps to put me at ease.”
“… Anna…” Mikuru’s eyes widened.
“I know, I know, it’s weird!” Anna stammered out quickly, fidgeting with the hem of her blanket now. “I just… I don’t know, maybe it’s that I… well you could probably guess by now that even back home I wasn’t too great at the whole ‘friendship’ thing,” she gestured nervously to the air. “It’s always felt like… everyone else is in on something that I’m not getting. But… Mama never made me feel that way. I always felt safe at home, even if school and stuff was hard. It’s… it took a while, but I get the same feeling with you now too, Mikuru-chan,” Anna finished earnestly, finally meeting her gaze once more.
Mikuru listened patiently and intently, taking in each and every one of Anna's words. “...Well first off, nothing about that is weird at all,” she whispered after a short pause, shaking her head. Before Anna could double down in insecure protest, she reached across the cushion and finally took her still waiting hand in her own. Anna stiffened in surprise at first, but when she relaxed and gently squeezed back, Mikuru took that as a good sign and continued. “I’m so, so glad that I can be that kind of place for you, Anna… I’m… I’ll always be in your corner. For as long as our paths cross, I won’t ever let you be alone, okay?”
The way she lightly dragged her thumb over her knuckles, her soothing voice that very well could have lulled Anna back to her much needed slumber right then and there…
In her clouded, hazy vision, Anna couldn’t tell who exactly she was looking at anymore, her best and first ever friend or her mother.
“Gah! I’m sorry, did I—”
Mikuru’s panicked burst of rambling was swiftly silenced by Anna squeezing even tighter and shaking her head. “I just… thank you, Mikuru-chan…” she whispered before taking a deep, unsteady breath. “Can we… can we just stay like this for a while?”
Mikuru exhaled a sigh of relief. “Of course…” she squeezed back, “for as long as you need.”
Anna focused her gaze on their interlocked hands, swallowing hard.
“For… for as long as you need too, okay? I’m… I’m always here for you too, Mikuru-chan. Don’t forget that.”
Mikuru let her eyelids flutter shut, slumping against the cushion again. “… I won’t. Consider it another promise.”
As Anna burst into hushed giggles, Mikuru couldn’t help but smile softly. An offhand creak pierced the air as Anna reclined, followed quickly by the same rustling from earlier. While she nestled herself back beneath the covers of the little nest she’d made on the couch, her hand didn’t slip even once from Mikuru’s grasp.
“… Thank you for being you, Anna. Sweet dreams, partner.”
That was just how they stayed until well into the next morning, when Jett stumbled upon them still sound asleep on the couch. Whenever one of them would snore, the other would snort back, as though somehow communicating even in unconsciousness. Right beside Anna’s head, Pochitan was curled into herself snugly, having fallen asleep long before even the two of them had. Suddenly expanding to over ten times your own size surely had to take its toll on a little baby, right?
“Geez, it’s already almost noon.” Jett muttered, scratching his ear as he eyed the taunting clock hands looming in the corner. He glanced back over to his snoozing colleagues, unable to repress a fond grin as he quietly sauntered behind the couch, reaching over to endearingly pat both of their heads.
“Well, this is fine once in a while, isn’t it? You need the rest, that's for sure.”