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The room’s bathroom was… white.
Small and, Toko couldn’t find it in herself to not stress it enough, white.
The kind of white that, once the artificial light of the lighting fixture hit them, forced whoever walked in to, for the sake of their sight, blink a few times, little colorful confetti and the ghost of anonymous furniture lingering in the back of the lids even after keeping them shut for a few seconds.
It kind of felt like an operating room, which, if she had to be completely honest, only made the girl feel more unnerved than she already did on average, chapped lips pressing hard against each other as she let her eyes linger around on the toilet and its lifted lid, the sink, not the mirror, everything but the mirror, her clothes still hanging from her left arm, clutched to her chest like she couldn’t get herself to let go of that old school uniform that was now more torn fabric than anything, her free hand lightly pulling at a long strand of purple hair, the slight jolt of pain sparking from her scalp feeling somewhat grounding.
…
It felt oily.
It always felt oily.
…
She tried to take a long breath, teeth grinding a little when her eyes, perhaps driven by the need to avoid the large rectangle of reflecting glass standing above the equally large sink that felt disproportionate to the otherwise small room, fell on the tub.
Another ridiculously large piece of white porcelain, long and deep enough for one tall person to comfortably sit in it with their legs extended all the way, the shower head hanging above shining in all its silvery glory, barely hidden by the baby blue curtains closed on the side, the only real mean of privacy.
Toko, if someone was ever to ask, wouldn’t have been able to say how long she’d been standing there, naked and shivering in a room that, despite having been visited by her multiple times in the last couple of weeks, she couldn’t stop herself from examining over and over again, eyes widening and squinting behind the thick round glasses hanging to the bridge of her nose for dear life, all of her attention suddenly caught by those small details one would normally not really think about, like the way the two towels sitting beside the sink, while virtually the same, could be differentiated by the way one was still holding the vague resemblance of something that had been folded (Toko wasn’t really keen on making anything look like it had been in contact with something so putrid) and the other looked like it had been thrown over the shoulder without its owner even making sure it had landed in the right place at all, or…
Or…
Or the fact that the tub looked like it had just been used!
Right, right… the tub… the tub was not just wet, it was drenched, droplets of water coating both the insides of the porcelain and the wall, and that was without mentioning the small carpet laying in front of the tub, the two distinct darker shapes on the beige fabric, followed by more wet footprints making a beeline to the door, making it painfully obvious that Komaru had just been there without even bothering to hide it… why would she, after all?
It wasn’t like Toko didn’t know her friend took showers, she…
She…
…
The girl, hand tugging a little harder to her hair, found herself sighing, back pressing a little against the door’s wooden surface when she took a few steps backwards.
She pressed against it harder.
For a moment, she was temped to look down on herself.
…
She didn’t.
Instead, Toko closed her eyes, stale air filling up her lungs as she closed her eyes shut for a few seconds, the somewhat haunting shapes of the tub and sink dancing onto the insides of her lids as she let herself feel the way that all too familiar pressure built up inside her chest, pushing against her lungs and ribs like an invisible force.
She… she was just taking time, wasn’t she?
Definitely.
As she let the air she’d taken in go, Toko tried to swallow.
She couldn’t.
…
Well, amazing.
Fucking amazing.
Some things, she guessed, never really changed.
Or, at the very least, they didn’t change because she managed to survive Junko Enoshima’s killing school life plan and then defeat said woman’s very own army of misguided traumatized children just half a year later.
…
No, actually, that probably added to her issue, ‘cause, like, what if someone actually decided to come and kill her right when she finally decided to take a shower and was at her most vulnerable state?
Then, that disgusting body of hers would’ve had to be exposed to the eyes to whoever came to investigate, or just happened to pass by, she…
…
Another deep inhale.
Toko’s eyes opened slowly, the very same painfully obvious scene of wet tiles, ceramic and messy towels presenting to her in all its organized mess.
…
Well… at least, she guessed, now she knew Komaru would’ve never been able to make it out pf a class trial… right?
The thought, even if just for a second, made her smile a little.
Her expression fell.
…
Komaru… well, it was kind of her fault if she was in this situation to begin with, right?
Yeah, she… it was her who had hid the clothes Toko had picked for herself when the two of them, tired of marinating in the same sweaty and highly impractical school uniforms, had finally decided they weren’t above stripping mannequins in the midst of the apocalypse, it was her who, after two weeks of being forced to share a room with someone as disgusting as only Toko could be, had told her that she wasn’t getting that comfy sweater back until she took a shower, she thought Toko was disgusting, she…
…
She…
…
The ultimate writing prodigy felt her teeth sink deep into her thumb before she could stop them.
Not deep enough to draw blood, but, certainly, forceful enough that, even just for a few seconds, she could let herself focus on the sting alone.
It… it wasn’t like she could blame her, at the end of the day… right?
Komaru was her friend, sure, she’d even come up with a nickname for Toko (as much as Toki lacked of any imagination and made Toko feel overwhelmed to a point where it was barely used), but… everything had to have a limit, right?
Right.
And Toko herself was a limit, or, if she had to be precise, a fully checked list of crossed lines that came together to make one big limit.
An impossibly huge one at that.
All in all, if he had to be honest, it was a miracle that the younger girl had held on for so long.
The clothes made a soft thud noise when they hit the floor, both of her arms wrapping around her torso, hands feeling at the ribs pushing against the skin, counting them.
Too thin.
Not that it was a surprise, Toko had never really been good at eating enough, at all, not that the memory of the burning eyes of her mothers whenever they would find her eating alone in her room, like the very act of putting something into her mouth that they couldn’t was an offense to everything that was right in this world, helped, it was… complicated.
A lot of things were complicated, for her at least.
Eating in front of other people was complicated.
Being in the dark without feeling like the walls were closing in and collapsing on her was complicated, though Toko had to recognize she was getting better at that.
…
She stared at the droplets inside the tub, pale cheeks sucking themselves in.
That was probably one of the most complicated things on the list.
Washing herself.
…
Stiffly, as if her legs had been turned to stone, Toko moved a step towards the tub.
Then another.
Examined her options...
Two.
Two options, and the dilemma of which of the two would’ve been the lesser evil.
…
Option number one: a bath.
Overall, an awful experience on every point of view, one she didn’t really talk about because, really, how was she supposed to explain that just seeing a tub filled to the brim with water made her lungs burn and scream like she was five and thrashing while her mother, the one who always talked about how she should’ve stayed in America instead of opening her legs in Japan, held her head underwater?
How was she supposed to explain that her voice, distant from the water in her ears, still rung the very same truths of how her birth should've gone wrong she’d been told all her life in her ears to this day?
She couldn’t, so she didn’t.
It was the kind of experience Toko would try to avoid at all costs… kind of like talking to women who were prettier than she was… which usually meant all women.
…
Option number two: a shower.
Overall, another absolutely awful experience.
Toko could see herself while showering, she had to watch her own body as she scrubbed it, and that meant watching… that.
The tally.
The one she would carve on her this and update whenever a new victim was added.
And, look, technically speaking, she knew Genocide Jack had been out of business for a while, but there was… something, about the memory of waking up with her leg warm with still sticky blood and a new sign, knowing what her body had just done without her knowing… it made her stomach twist until she felt like throwing up.
So… yeah, overall, not really an option she was fond of.
She could try taking a shower in the dark, sure, it wouldn’t have been the first time she used that expedient, but then, again, that wouldn’t have changed the fact that she would’ve known.
Toko wasn’t an idiot, she knew curiosity killed the cat, and, above it all, she was smart enough to know just how stupid she could be when it came to her alter.
She knew.
Even if she didn’t want to, Toko was perfectly aware that, even if she tried to take a shower with the lights off and her eyes closed, her hand would’ve wandered right there, a little past her pelvis and the unshaved horror that was between her legs, right where she knew her skin was all carved and ugly in that pattern she knew by heart, both terrified and eager to know whether she had done it again.
And just like that, she would’ve known her promise to master Byakuya had been broken.
That she would’ve never become a full member of Future foundation.
Because Toko didn’t trust her, not when she was more than certain that, at some point, Komaru had to physically hold her back from killing that Warriors of Hope’s servant, the devil she’d almost sold her soul to for her master’s well being.
…
All of that for him to…
…
She shook her head, lips pressing tight as she found herself exhaling, hand extending to turn the water on, the cold jet hitting her hand before she could retract it, ripping a surprised hiss out of her, goosebumps raising all over her arms.
…
She took the hand to her chest, now feeling a little stupid, self conscious even, as she turned her head towards the still closed sand colored door, the side of her tongue catching between her molars, squeezed softly as she waited for… something.
She wasn’t quite sure of what, but, she guessed it never came.
The young woman shook her head, swearing under her breath as she looked at the tub once again, her lips popping with a little satisfying noise.
“This is ridiculous…”
She wasn’t sure whether she said that for herself or the empty bathroom, but, either way, the strained streak in her voice couldn’t even manage to convince Toko herself, heart now starting to beat in her ears.
Okay… she’d already done this.
Multiple times.
A shower, she… she guessed it was better to be scared than to feel the water running into her lungs and burning them from the inside out… right?
Yeah, sure…
She raised a leg.
Put it inside the tub, careful not to look past her knee, where a few hair hinted at the thicker ones running all the way down to where her calves begun.
The cold of the tub’s bottom, already wet with the crashed down water, made a shiver run down her spine, throat tightening just a little as she shifted her weight, so she could push herself all the way in.
Okay… a shower.
Just a shower.
She just needed to hop in, close her eyes, and finish this whole thing before that curiosity started eating at her like the parasite it was… easy.
Yeah.
Definitely, she could do it, she-
The noise of three quick knocks at the door startled her so bad she almost screamed, the remaining leg already halfway up into the tub, frozen in precarious balance.
The ultimate writer inhaled sharply.
It was-
“Is everything fine in there? It’s been half an-”
Toko fell.
She didn’t even notice until she was hitting the ground, eyes widening when a loud yelp escaped her throat, pain blooming from her shoulders and the back of her head in a split second, glasses now all crooked on her nose as she stared at the white ceiling and took short breaths.
…
Right.
She hadn’t taken her glasses off.
“Toko?!”
…
Ah, yeah, she wasn’t alone in that hotel.
… fuck.
The door flung open before she could even say anything, Komaru’s slippers slapping against the tiles as she started saying something with a high pitched voice that had Toko roll her eyes back so she could see her... then she stopped.
The sound of a soft gasp.
Judging from the noise in the room, Komaru had stopped herself from walking any further, a thick silence, only broken by the sound of the still going shower, wrapping around the two of them in a way that had the older one inhale deeply.
“Well, I could as well be d-”
…
Oh.
Oh.
Toko felt her face flush red as she scrambled to her feet, arms flying to cover as much of herself as she could as her eyes, now so wide they could’ve as well rolled out of their orbits, pointed at the only other girl in the room, offhandedly noting the way that fuckass bob was still a little damp and the large hoodie she’d taken from the store they’d passed by that morning was long enough to reach all the way to the lower half of her thighs.
She was looking at her with slightly parted lips, eyes widened in something that Toko could not find in herself to call anything but utter disgust because, really, how could anyone look at that wretched body of hers and feel anything else, cheeks completely flushed as she stook stiffly, like the sole sight had been enough to turn her into a sculpture of salt.
Oh, she was mad.
She had to be mad, there was no way she wouldn’t have been mad at that show, Toko herself would’ve been livid if she’d walked into a bathroom only to be forced to see something as vile, ruined and filthy as her body was, she…
“S-… Stop looking at me!”
The scream came out as a shriek, shame and a blind, livid fear getting to her head as she looked at Komaru, who, on her part, blinked a few times, suddenly seeming to come back down to Toko’s same plane of existence, hands shooting in front of herself defensively, her voice an equally embarrassed cry.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I-”
The younger girl shook her head, eyes now pointing towards the bathroom sink, though Toko notice they would start drifting back towards her every few seconds.
Of course they did.
“W-… what…? Is m-my body so… d-disgusting you c-can’t l-look away?”
“No! no, I…”
Komaru shook her head, eyes closing shut for a few seconds while Toko felt her lips pull into that usual ugly grin that came to her whenever she was saying something she knew was right, arms still moving in an attempt to cover as much of her body as possible.
But it wasn’t enough.
It was never enough.
There wasn’t such thing as too little of her body being shown, after all.
The girl in front of her, still red in the face, shook her head again, taking a deep breath.
She took a few seconds to answer, the exhale that came from her lips soft.
“I was just worried… you’ve been here for the last twenty minutes, and…”
She shrugged.
She looked at Toko, then at the shower, full lips pressing tight for a moment.
“… are you okay?”
“Of c-course I’m…”
Toko hesitated for a moment, Komaru’s eyes now poking eyes in her face so intensely she felt her cheeks burn.
She looked away.
“It’s… complicated”
She felt the knot in her stomach tighten a little at the confession, blood rushing in her ears for no real reason.
‘Cause she knew, technically, there she had nothing to fear, not from Komaru at least, bless her soul, the girl standing in front of her already knew things had always been more tragic than anything for Toko, she knew of the closet she’d been locked in for three days, the hospital accident, her mothers… there was something, though, about being this vulnerable with someone, about giving so many information to an individual she had no control over, someone who could just, one day, decide to use her trauma against her, just like last time she’d told someone about her out of her own free will.
That time, she’d only had herself to blame, he’d said so himself.
This time, would’ve been the same too.
Yet, Komaru just nodded, quiet, eyes going from Toko, to the shower, to Toko again, a small humming noise coming out of her lips.
“I see… do you..”
Komaru cleared her voice, rocking on her heels.
“… need help?”
…
…
. . .
Toko blinked, something in her brain short circuiting at the offer, whatever quick retort would’ve usually been there completely running from her as she looked at her best (and only) friend with a dumb founded expression, arms tightening a little around her body.
“… what?”
That was all she could throw out, her tone softer than she’d expected, more incredulous than offended… surprised.
Yeah, that was the right word, surprised.
Komaru squirmed a little under her stare, lips stretching into an awkward smile.
“Yeah, y’know… like… like with the dark! You seem to be more at ease when I’m with you in a dark place, so I thought…”
Her voice died down, the shower jet crashing down onto the tub still filling up the silence for them, Toko’s brows raising up as she let out an uncomfortable laugh.
“Y-you… j-just want to w-watch me n-naked, d-don’t you?”
“Toko-”
“M-man… you really are a p-pervert.”
“Toko, stop!”
Komaru’s face was all red again, eyes closed shut.
Silence fell between the two of them again as Toko looked over her shoulder, the sole sight of the shower making her shiver a little, nails digging into her poking ribs.
Then, she looked at Komaru again.
She was still there, looking at Toko with those infuriatingly honest eyes, the same her brother had when he suggested she channeled all that anger and emptiness she’d never really stopped feeling into a novel, the same kind of eyes that had prompted her to write her very own I novel, her masterpiece she wasn’t even sure would’ve ever seen the light.
…
She inhaled, deeply something inside her chest cracking against her will.
…
And out.
“W-well…”
She cleared her voice, Komaru’s lips parting.
Toko could swear she’d seen her leaning forward a little.
“I g-guess… since we’re both girls… i-if you want to see me n-… naked so bad…”
Komaru nodded, lips widening into a toothy grin.
“Very well! Hop in the tub, I’ll scrub you!”
Toko couldn’t help but notice she hadn’t denied it this time.
…
She did as she was told, taking her glasses off and putting them on the sink before walking into the shower, eyes closed shut and arms still wrapped around her body.
Bad idea.
Horrible idea.
The very same moment the water hit her back, cold in all the worst ways, the girl felt her whole body shiver and shudder, teeth grinding against each other as her eyes shut tighter, her very being shaking like a dead leaf in the midst of a storm.
Oh.
Oh, she hated it.
She didn’t think she’d ever hated anything more.
…
Okay, maybe that was a bit too much, but still.
“Okay, just…”
Komaru’s voice, a little distant amidst the roar of running blood in Toko’s ears, sounded a bit unsure, like she herself hadn’t planned the action that far ahead… typical.
Fucking typical.
“… can I come in?”
She heard the sound of something hitting the ground.
Through it all, Toko’s eyes snapped open, head turning so fast she felt her neck cracking as, without even waiting for an answer, Komaru all but jumped into the tub, making her mouth go completely dry on the spot.
…
They stared at each other.
…
Then, Toko screamed-
No, that wasn’t even a scream, she… the sound Toko made, in all honesty, wasn’t even one she was aware could come out of her, loud and high pitched, like Komaru had just come in with a knife.
…
Well, there was no knife, but Komaru sure did scream back.
Which made Toko scream back, which… went on for way longer than necessary.
In the end, taking short and shallow breaths into her fully emptied lungs, the taller girl found herself wheezing a little, words coming out into a deflated hiss as her body jerked away from the water.
“W-w-what the fuck?!”
“I’m sorry! I… you looked like you needed help, and-”
“Why d-did you even ask if you were g-gonna come in anyway?!”
The younger girl opened her mouth.
She closed it.
She opened it again, eyes looking worryingly focused for the kind of question she’d been asked.
“… I have no idea.”
…
Of course she didn’t.
The two of them stayed silent for a while after that, Toko’s whole body shaking violently as she found herself focusing on the blurry lines of the girl now standing in front of her, naked in a way she could only vaguely distinguish in the form of a silhouette that looked painfully average, blotches of colour showing the rich green she’d learned to recognize in two different areas.
…
Then she remembered Komaru was probably doing the same.
She was… looking.
Quietly.
“W-what are you staring f-for…? I-if I’m so disgusting y-you… you s-should just say it.”
Toko’s face turned away, her tone lower than she would’ve wanted, fragile like the smallest interruption would’ve formed an unrepairable crack in her voice.
A bite with no real teeth, so to say.
Komaru’s figure shook her head, still looking a little stiff.
“No, I…”
She was quiet for a moment.
“I don’t think that, I… who told you you’re ugly?”
Quite literally everyone that had ever mattered in her life.
Toko rolled her eyes, turning her back to Komaru, arms hugging as much of her body as she could, so that her back was taking the brunt of the jet’s relentless attack.
“L-let’s just get this over with… Omaru.”
If Komaru minded the name calling, she didn’t say that.
Instead, all Toko heard was a light scoff before the sensation of the soap soaked bath sponge coming into contact with her skin made the ultimate writing prodigy jump a little, eyes closing once again.
Tighter.
Hands holding each other so that, even if she was tempted to go and touch her thigh where she knew the tally was, she would’ve been able to hold herself back.
But then, again, it was a little hard to focus, she…
When was the last time Toko had washed herself with someone else?
Had anyone ever scrubbed her back… like, at all?
Sure, there was that time at Hope’s peak academy where she and the other girls had all taken a bath so that they could keep Alter Ego’s existence a secret from Monokuma, but… did that really count, when all she’d done at the time was trying to keep herself as far from the others as possible?
That still left her out of someone who would scrub her back, so…
…
“Really though… I don’t think you’re ugly”
Toko scoffed, focusing on the feeling of the sponge moving up and down on ger back.
Long movements, going from a point A to a point B.
…
Kind of soothing, actually.
“… s-sure…”
“No, really!”
She could hear the pout in Komaru’s voice, the way her cheeks would fill up with hair like she was some kind of hamster.
“You’re pretty, you know? Like… really pretty.”
Toko really wished she could believe her.
They were quiet for a while after that, Toko focusing on taking long breaths while Komaru soaped up and rinsed her back, lending her the sponge right after.
“Can you do the front?”
Toko nodded, eyes closing as she took it and started roughly rubbing all over her front, breath catching when it touched that one ruined part of her thigh.
…
She scrubbed harder.
“… what’s the deal with showering anyway?”
She felt Komaru’s hand pressing lightly on her shoulder, prompting the older girl to lower herself a little, knees bent at an awkward angle and head leaning slightly backwards as she felt the cold sensation of shampoo being poured right in the middle, on the line where her hair parted.
She thought of complaining for a moment, throwing a safety net for a conversation that felt more uncomfortable than necessary.
Instead, as she felt the younger one’s fingers sink within her hair, all she could manage was a questioning humming, like she hadn’t really understood the question.
She did.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you since… y’know, you always kind of shut down when it comes to washing up”
…
Toko opened her mouth.
She closed it.
Being Toko the ultimate writer, one would’ve expected her to be good at describing what it was like for her to see a filled up bath, anyone would’ve guessed that if there was someone able to describe the feeling of water filling up burning lungs, consciousness threatening to slip away and the utter terror of knowing someone could’ve used your body to do something you had no control over or memories of, it would’ve been her.
Instead, Toko noticed, she was a loss of words.
It happened more often than one would expect, talking, after all, wasn’t like writing, it was… a muscle.
A muscle that Toko, all stutters and terror of those invisible consequences that saying the wrong thing brought, had never felt safe training.
So she kept quiet, her lips pressing tight as she focused on the feeling of Komaru’s fingers on her scalp, nails lightly scratching at the itchy skin as foam started forming.
“… it’s complicated.”
Her tone was soft as she said it, low as a whisper against the loud noise of water crashing against bodies and porcelain, a sound begging not to be heard.
Komaru hummed, starting to rinse.
“Is it… complicated like your fear of the dark is complicated?”
Toko nodded.
An understanding was reached.
Komaru didn’t push it.
Instead, she gently grabbed Toko’s arm, the shower turning off as the older girl turned towards her.
“… I’m sorry”
Toko shook her head, shivering from the cool hair hitting her wet skin, goosebumps raising all over.
She didn’t wanna hear her apologize.
Not Komaru.
Instead she looked away, hugging herself in the bathroom’s cold.
“D-don’t… it’s t-too cold for that".”
“Ah- right!”
Komaru all but jumped out of the tub, Toko’s heart missing a beat in the process.
“H-hey- don’t j-jump out like that! I-I’m not fixing y-your neck!”
Komaru laughed sheepishly, handing Toko her glasses and a large towel.
“Weren’t you the one on the floor earlier?”
Toko scoffed, putting her glasses on.
“D-don’t be a smart ass, y-… you s-scared me.”
She wrapped the towel around her body, careful to make it as tight as possible as she blinked, eyes adjusting to the glasses’ familiar presence.
Komaru let out another chuckle, turning to take a towel herself.
“Sorry, sorry…”
Toko rolled her eyes, gaze falling onto the other as she went back to rubbing her own arms and blowing from the nose.
Just as she’d guessed, everything about Komaru’s physique was, as the younger girl herself would’ve said, normal.
Not too thin, not too fat, just a couple of healthy rolls falling at the bottom of her stomach and a medium size chest… a few burns and scrapes, perhaps, but that was normal.
Toko had those too.
…
Actually, anyone who had been living in Towa city for the last year and half had at least some of those after all, one didn’t just live through an apocalypse where murderous nightmare fuel robo-bears terrorized the city in the name of despair and not get injured after all.
…
She looked away, cheeks burning a little as she noticed, in the corner of her eye, Komaru’s lips curling up into a sleazy grin.
“You were looking.”
“N-no, I was not!”
“Who’s the pervert now, Toki?”
Toko planted her palms in her face, screaming against the wet skin as Komaru laughed.
“S-shut up!”
“Okay, okay, i get it… let’s get you all dried up, okay?”
And so they did.
Toko stood in front of the slightly foamed up mirror, hand instinctively pressing against the glass to push the foam away, leaving a section of it looking like a glass of water had been emptied on it, her features slightly deformed by the unevenness of the liquid.
She heard the sound of a plug clicking into a socket and turned her head, Komaru now standing behind her with a hairdryer she wasn’t even sure she’d ever seen in that room.
She frowned, thinking of asking where she’d got that.
…
She decided, instead, to go for the more pressing question.
“You k-know I can do that myself, right?”
Komaru shrugged, the smile she gave her so warm Toko felt something melting dangerously close to that beating bleeding heart of hers.
“I mean… I've already washed your hair… may as well finish the job, right?”
Toko didn’t argue with that.
Komaru turned the dryer on, a blow of warm air hitting Toko’s head, soothing in a way she couldn’t see coming if she tried, shoulders relaxing a little as she let the younger girl move her hair around, eyes carefully avoiding her own reflection in the mirror (she didn’t need to look at herself to know those circle under her eyes and the sick pallor of her cheeks made her look like she was ill) and focusing on Komaru’s, the younger girl wearing a towel despite being barely half as wet as Toko was, de-saturated green eyes focused as her lower lip caught in her teeth, brows slightly furrowed, as if deep in thought.
She looked like she was doing something… important.
…
How long had it been since someone had blown Toko’s hair?
Played with them?
Had anyone ever done that?
…
She wasn’t sure of that.
It hadn’t happened in her childhood home, that was for sure, neither of her mothers (let alone her father, with how much effort he put into being as much out of the house as possible) had ever been too kin on doing anything with her hair, Toko had learned to braid them by looking at the other girls in her class, and the hairdryer in their house, the one they always used, was off limits to Toko, who was better off not being seen, heard, or, if possible, perceived.
…
She pressed her lips tight, eyes shifting on her own face.
Thin chapped lips, cheeks too bony, a mole too big to be considered a beauty mark, tired gray eyes with circles so deep she looked sick.
And yet, Komaru worked on her like there was nothing more important… or precious.
Her touch, Toko noticed, was more gentle than she’d been initially given her credit for, like she didn’t want to hurt her.
…
Like Toko didn’t deserve to be hurt.
…
She looked at her again, at that focused look and now tight pressed lips.
…
She felt something.
She wasn’t fully sure of what it was, or maybe she didn't want to acknowledge it, but it was there, something warm, and gentle, flourishing and spreading like vines, like the longing for a hug, familiar, yet so foreign in its way of being, it… it felt similar to what she felt for master Byakuya, yet… different.
Diametrically opposite.
Like something close she knew was safe indulging in, instead of something unattainable she knew was safe longing for.
…
She inhaled softly.
Took that feeling and held it close to her chest, hands intertwining with each other and squeezing.
Tight.
She didn’t try to make sense of it, not now.
There was no use in voicing something she’d just realized, she… she would’ve had all the time to have a panic attack about it later, when Komaru would’ve been asleep, thrashing in their bed like she was the only person there, and Toko would’ve been wide awake, watching her sleep.
For now, though… she guessed it was okay.
Indulging in the warmth.
…
“… wow”
Toko blinked, Komaru’s words violently dragging her out of her very personal gutter and back in front of her mirror.
…
Huh.
Funny how she hadn’t even noticed the dryer had been turned off, the silence almost deafening as Komaru looked at their reflection on the mirror, eyes shimmering like there were stars reflecting on a body of water.
Toko looked at the reflection too, and…
…
Her eyes widened.
“It’s… fluffy.”
She ran her fingers through a strand of purple hair, volume somehow doubled from before the shower.
It looked soft.
It was soft.
Komaru smiled.
“Your hair look so nice… I’m a little jealous”
Toko scoffed.
“W-what, m-mad that y-you can’t m-make fun of me?”
Komaru rolled her eyes, sighing in mock annoyance.
Toko looked at their reflection again, hugging herself tight.
The warm feeling in her chest spreading wider.
Despite herself, she smiled.
“… Thanks.”
Komaru smiled back, head leaning on Toko’s shoulder, the taller girl sucking in a sharp breath.
“So… can I style it?”
“No.”