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Mari did not mind Lara’s absence. Not at all.
It had been three weeks since the tournament.
Three weeks of Lara constantly clinging to Luca’s side.
Mari slowed to a halt with a sigh, glancing up at the sun with a hand over her eyes, squinting against the glare. It was almost midday, halfway to another day where Lara would have her schedule likely filled with frivolous activities. Mari blinked, shaking her head to clear her thoughts as she glanced towards the vast expanse of Lake Biwa to her right, the ripples reminiscent of distant stars as the wind traveled over the water.
The lake breeze offered no comfort, carrying instead the faint, phantom echo of laughter that had no business lingering in her head. Mari turned her back to the water, the gravel crunching beneath her sneakers as she forced her feet to move away from the shoreline and toward the shaded path that wound through the pine trees neighboring the path.
She told herself she preferred the quiet. Three weeks ago, her schedule had been filled with her determination to win the tournament, with the occasional excursions to Otsu with Lara, or work days. Now, even her room felt slightly more hollow. Without Lara’s relentless energy bouncing off the walls, or her maddening habit of leaving her clothes in the middle of the room no matter how many times Mari would berate her, the silence felt heavy, almost accusatory.
Let them have each other, Mari thought, almost to reassure herself despite the bitter twinges in her chest, her fingers curling tightly around the strap of her canvas tote until her knuckles turned white. They fit each other and they are happy. Lara is no longer moping around.
Yet, as she stepped deeper into the cool, dappled shade of the pines, the justification rang hollow even to her own ears. It wasn't just that Lara was spending time with Luca, it was the easy way she fit into his world, integrating into the common practices of life that Mari had always kept herself apart from. Lara had swept into Shiga prefecture like a localized storm, upending Mari’s meticulously ordered routine, and then, just as quickly, pivoted to grace the numerous attractions of the prefecture, leaving Mari standing on the outside looking in.
The crunch of distant footsteps on the pine needles broke through her spiraling thoughts. Mari froze, her muscles instantly tightening as a familiar flash of color caught the sunlight filtering through the canopy.
Her breath hitched. For a wild, humiliating fraction of a second, she thought—hoped—it was Lara.
The figure stepped fully into view, and the brief, desperate spike of anticipation vanished, leaving behind a cold, leaden weight of disappointment. It wasn't her. Just a stranger passing by, talking quietly on their phone, completely oblivious to the world around them. Mari let out a slow, shuddering breath, disgusted with herself. When had she become so pathetic? Constantly jumping at shadows, waiting for a crimson head of hair or a familiar laugh that wasn't going to show up.
She forced herself to keep moving, her sneakers crunching rhythmically against the path, but the solitude she had craved only turned inward, amplifying the noise in her own head.
’What is wrong with you?’ she berated herself, the internal dialogue sharp and unforgiving as she frowned at the divots underneath her. ‘She’s allowed to have other friends. She needs to find her prince.’
Yet the thought did nothing to soothe the persistent ache behind her ribs. It was humiliating, recognizing how thoroughly Lara had overtaken her quiet, predictable life. Before Lara arrived, Mari had been entirely self-sufficient, a closed circuit that required no outside input, no chaotic bursts of laughter echoing down the hallway, no uninvited opinions on how she lived her life. She had prided herself on her independence. Now, walking the familiar paths around Lake Biwa felt less like freedom and more like exile. Especially since Lara’s time was running out.
She reached a wooden bench overlooking a particularly calm stretch of the water and sank onto it, resting her elbows on her knees and burying her face in her hands. The canvas tote slipped from her shoulder, pooling at her feet like dead weight.
Down by the harbor, miles away, Lara was probably smiling that brilliant, easy smile at Luca. She was probably effortlessly charming a room full of people who didn't spend their nights overanalyzing every word spoken during practice. Lara belonged everywhere; Mari only belonged in the rigid lines of a routine she had built to keep the world out. And no one else knew that Lara was fading away beneath their fingertips.
And somehow, Lara had still managed to waltz right past every single wall Mari had spent years erecting.
She needs help, Mari told herself fiercely, squeezing her eyes shut as the lake breeze rustled the pine needles overhead. You were fine before she got here. You'll be fine now. She needs help, she needs this.
But as she sat there in the stifling August heat, staring out at the vast, indifferent expanse of the lake, the silence of the afternoon pressed down on her with the crushing weight of a truth she refused to speak aloud, the quiet wasn't peaceful anymore. It was just empty.
_______________________
Mari stared at the framed photo on the shelf, a brief, rare moment captured before everything changed, and told herself for the hundredth time that she did not mind Lara’s absence. Not at all.
The sliding door clicked open, and the heavy silence that had filled their small, shared room shattered in an instant.
"I'm back!"
Lara dropped her bag onto the floor with a thud, letting out a long sigh as she kicked off her shoes. Her red hair was a soft, untamed mess, slipping out of its braid, and her cheeks were flushed pink from the late summer heat. She stepped into the room and immediately sank down onto the wood floorboards beside Mari, resting her chin on her hands atop the desk, peering at Mari scrolling through social media.
"It was so warm out today," Lara sighed, though her face brightened almost instantly. "Luca took me to this little cafe near the station in Otsu. Have you ever been? He ordered this massive strawberry shaved ice, and we ended up talking for hours."
Mari kept her gaze fixed on the screen in her hands, her movements slow and deliberate. Her pulse gave a quiet, stubborn thud, but her voice stayed entirely even. "Is that so?"
"Yeah! He and Leo went to the park with me, and then we walked along the pier," Lara continued, her voice light and animated, full of that effortless energy that usually filled every corner of their room. That same fake energy that haunted Mari when the mermaid collapsed before her eyes. Lara shifted closer, resting her elbow on the table. "He’s really easy to talk to, Mari. Really thoughtful, too. I... I think I really like him."
The words hung softly in the air. Mari’s fingers paused over the screen for just a fraction of a second before she continued the habitual scrolling, paying no heed to anything flashing past her eyes. The persistent ache behind her ribs flared up, but she forced her shoulders to relax, carefully keeping every trace of unnatural bitterness off her face.
"He... seems nice," Mari said quietly, her tone reserved, devoid of any edge. She put her phone down on the table with a dull thud, turning her head and pointedly looking anywhere but Lara’s face. "If he makes you happy, Lara... that’s good."
Lara tilted her head, watching Mari for a moment with bright blue eyes, a soft, appreciative smile touching her lips. "He really does. I was hoping you'd get to know him better soon, too."
Mari offered only a faint, noncommittal nod, looking out toward the balcony where the late afternoon light was beginning to fade. "Maybe."
"You're working too hard," Lara murmured, reaching out and gently tapping the edge of Mari's neatly folded laundry stack perched at the corner, misaligning it just a fraction. "You should have come with us."
Mari didn't fix the stack this time. She just sat in the quiet warmth of the room, listening to the soft rustle of the wind outside, and the way she knew the rays of light would illuminate the sapphire crystal eyes of the girl below her.
Lara sat up straight, her eyes lighting up as if a sudden realization had just struck her. She rested both elbows on the desk, leaning upwards into Mari’s space with an eager, bright expression.
"Oh! That reminds me— Luca mentioned going to a karaoke place near the harbor tomorrow evening," Lara said, her voice filled with easy enthusiasm. "He said they have those private rooms that are very muffled. You should come with us, Mari! It’d be so much fun, and you've been training a lot even though your tournament passed."
Mari’s hand paused over the edge of the shirt she was intent to fix on the pile, more to keep her mind and body occupied than anything else. She kept her head tilted downward, letting her dark fringe hide her eyes for a brief, quiet moment. The invitation felt like a gentle tug on a line she wasn't sure she wanted to pull, a strange mix of inclusion and a reminder of where she stood.
"Karaoke?" Mari repeated softly, her voice barely carrying above the faint hum of the late-afternoon wind outside the balcony.
"Yeah!" Lara beamed, reaching out to lightly poke Mari’s arm. "Come on, it won't be as fun if it's just the two of us. You don't even have to pick up a microphone. You can just sit back, eat the fries, and help me pick songs!"
Mari felt a slight, involuntary tightness in her chest, but she smoothed down the fabric in her lap with deliberate, steady movements. She didn't look up, offering only a small, noncommittal murmur. "I need to still keep up with my exercises, and you shouldn’t push yourself too hard..."
"You can take a break for one night," Lara coaxed softly, tilting her head to catch Mari's eye. "Please? For me?"
Mari stared at the neatly pressed collar in her hands, her heart doing a slow, heavy ache. She wanted to give a firm refusal, to protect the quiet walls she had built back up, but looking at Lara's bright, expectant expression, she couldn't bring herself to shut it down completely.
"I'll... I’ll come," Mari murmured, her voice reserved, carefully neutral. "If I finish everything early."
Lara’s smile softened into something warm and satisfied. "Thank you, Mari." She leaned back onto her hands, resting her head against the low table again while her fingers roved over the shallow grains on the desk.
_______________________
That’s how Mari found sits on a plush bench, staring at Lara, who stumbled over the words on the screen.
The room smelled faintly of ozone and stale fries, bathed in the erratic, neon cyan glow of the television display. On screen, a pastel background bounced wildly out of time with the upbeat j-pop track blaring through the speakers. Lara held the microphone in both hands, her hair catching the strobe lights as she practically shouted the lyrics, completely off-key while determinedly pushing through despite the nervous sweat trailing down her forehead.
Beside her, Luca was laughing, a warm, bright sound that echoed around the small, windowless booth. He was leaning forward, tapping his foot against the sticky linoleum floor and offering quips to match Lara's frantic energy. They looked effortless together, completely synchronized in their loud, messy joy.
Mari sat tucked into the deepest corner of the U-shaped booth, her fingers curled around the condensation slicked glass of iced green tea she hadn't touched. She kept her posture straight, her back barely touching the faux-leather cushions, but still allowed the occasional smile and nod. It was rather entertaining to see Lara flounder over the timing of the lyrics and beat.
"Mari, you're missing the chorus!" Lara suddenly called out, spinning around mid song. She thrust the microphone toward Mari’s face, her blue eyes wide and sparkling with mischief. "Help me out here, I can't read the kanji for this line!"
Mari flinched slightly, pulling back just enough to keep her distance without drawing attention to her hesitation. "I don't know the song," she said, her voice remaining low and even beneath the booming music that defeated her ears.
"Nobody knows this song!" Lara laughed, her voice static-laced through the mic before she whipped back around to panicky read the rapidly scrolling text, her eyes comically widening as more words continued to come on to the screen.
Luca glanced over at Mari, giving her a soft, sympathetic smile. "Don't force her, Lara. She said she just wanted to watch." He picked up a plate from the low glass table and set it closer to Mari’s side. "Here, the french fries are good. You should eat some."
"Thank you," Mari replied quietly, offering a polite, minimal nod. She forced herself to pick up a single fry, chewing it slowly while her eyes drifted back to Lara, who sucked in mouthfuls of short breaths.
Lara was practically bouncing on her heels now, reaching the climax of the chorus and missing every single high note with glorious, triumphant confidence. When the track finally faded into applause from the automated scoring system, Lara dropped onto the couch right next to Mari with a dramatic sigh, throwing an arm over her forehead.
"A sixty-two!" Lara gasped, breathlessly staring at the score screen. "Is that good?”
"It… is decent," Mari said reservedly, her tone carefully neutral, though the faint edge of a fond smile threatened to breach her lips as her mouth quirked upwards.
"See? Mari gets it," Lara beamed, turning her head to look at Mari, her face flushed and glowing under the dim neon lights. "You have to pick the next song, Mari. I'm taking the mic away from Luca until I beat him."
"I really don't—"
"Come on," Lara pleaded softly, leaning a little closer, her shoulder pressing against Mari's in a gesture so tender it made Mari's chest tighten with that familiar, quiet ache. "Just one. You don't even have to sing. Just pick something we can all do together."
Mari looked down at the glowing touchscreen remote lying on the table, then up at Lara’s hopeful, expectant face, and finally over at Luca, who was patiently waiting for his turn. She felt the heavy walls of her quiet reserve holding steady, even as the warmth of Lara’s presence threatened to melt them away. Lara wanted to bond with Luca, she was just a visitor for now.
"Fine," Mari murmured softly, reaching for the remote. "But only if you let Luca sing the next one."
Lara let out a victorious gasp, clapping her hands together as Mari pulled the heavy plastic remote onto her lap. "Deal!" Lara declared, leaning back into the cushions, though she didn't move away. Her arm remained pressed against Mari’s, warm and heavy through the thin fabric of Mari’s sleeve.
Luca laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "I accept the terms. Just don't pick anything with rapid fire lyrics, or Lara will try to rap again."
"I did better than you," Lara protested, nudging Mari’s knee with her own. "Ignore him, Mari. Pick whatever you want."
Mari kept her eyes fixed on the illuminated screen, her thumbs swiping slowly through the popular song lists to avoid looking directly at either of them. The contrast was stark—Luca sitting comfortably on the other side of the booth, easygoing and radiant, and Lara suspended right between them, a bridge Mari didn't quite know how to cross without falling into the water beneath.
She scrolled past the loud pop anthems and energetic rock tracks, her gaze landing on a soft, mid-tempo song from a few years back. It was simple, familiar, and wouldn't require anyone to strain their voice or hit impossible high notes. She tapped the selection screen and pushed the track into the queue.
"Ooh, classic choice," Luca said, recognizing the intro chords as the neon lights dimmed from sharp cyan to a gentle, revolving violet. "Good pick, Mari."
"It looks interesting," Lara said, leaning her head back against the leather seat. She reached down, picked up two french fries from the plate Luca had set down, and offered one directly to Mari. "Eat up. We have to beat my sixty-two."
Mari stared at the offered fry for a fraction of a second before taking it from Lara's fingers, her own touch light and deliberate. Her finger tips brushed against Lara’s for a brief moment before the mermaid sat back with a smile, completely ignorant to the fire she sparked within Mari’s hands. "I told you I'm not singing."
"We'll see about that when the main part hits," Lara teased, her voice dropping into that soft, conspiratorial tone she always used when they were alone in their room.
As the music built, Luca took the second microphone, singing the opening lines with an easy, pleasant pitch that instantly filled the room. Lara joined in on the second verse, her voice rough around the edges but full of uninhibited warmth as she looked back and forth between Luca and Mari, trying to coax Mari into joining.
Mari sat quietly in the soft purple light, holding her untouched tea. She didn't sing a single word, but as she watched Lara’s eyes light up when Luca hit the harmony, the sharp edge of her solitude smoothed out into something quieter. She was still on the outside, looking in, but for tonight, sitting in the crowded, noisy room with the smell of stale fries and the vibration of the bass through the bench, the distance didn't feel quite so vast. She felt a smile tugging at the corner of her lip when Luca and Lara began to debate about the score on the screen.
The door clicked shut behind Luca as he stepped out to grab drinks, leaving the small booth suspended in a quiet, cool blue glow. Lara leaned her head against the headrest, letting out a soft sigh, before standing up and wandering toward the tiny, private balcony attached to their room. Pushing the sliding door open, she leaned against the railing to breathe in the humid, midnight breeze blowing off Lake Biwa.
Mari hesitated for only a second before following her, stepping into the warm night air and settling on the empty chair before her.
"It's nice out here," Lara murmured, not looking back as Mari settled beside her, resting her forearms against the cool metal rail. "Much quieter than earlier."
"You were the one shouting into the microphone," Mari noted softly, her voice carrying a delicate, guarded restraint.
Lara let out a light laugh, tilting her head up toward the starless sky, her smile slightly dropping. "Yeah. I guess I was." She quieted down, her bright expression softening into something gentler, almost solemn. "Luca’s really sweet, isn't he? He makes everything feel so easy. I’m glad he invited us."
Mari’s fingers tightened slightly against the table. She stared down at the dark water below, where distant city lights rippled like scattered stardust. The familiar, persistent ache behind her ribs pulsed, but she smoothed her expression into a quiet, careful calm.
"He is," Mari replied, keeping her tone strictly gentle. "He takes good care of you."
"He tries," Lara agreed softly, turning her head to look at Mari. "But you barely said a word to him. Or to me. You spent the whole time sitting in the corner and then ran off."
"I was listening," Mari murmured, glancing away. She adjusted the cuff of her sleeve with painstaking care, searching for words that would keep her dignity intact while letting the truth slip through the cracks, the lie easily rolling off of her tongue. "Besides... you didn't seem to have any trouble filling the space. You look... brighter when you're talking to him."
Lara blinked, caught slightly off guard by the unexpected softness in Mari's voice. "Mari—"
"I just mean," Mari interrupted gently, her voice dropping to a near-whisper, laced with a strange, sweet awkwardness she couldn't entirely mask, "it's just a little unfair, isn't it?"
"What is?"
Mari pressed her lips together, her dark fringe shading her eyes as she stared intently at a spot on the balcony floor. You're supposed to be my messy roommate, she thought to herself softly, her words coming out sounding more like a quiet, endearing complaint than a confrontation. "You leave your water on the bathroom floor. You mess up my folded laundry. You take up all the air in our room..."
She took a slow, steady breath, trying desperately to dismiss the thought before it fully bloomed. "Not that I mind. Obviously. Luca treats you well, and he likes you, I’m sure of it."
Lara stared at her, her lips slightly parted in quiet realization as the childish, sweet jealousy underneath Mari’s reserved phrasing hit her.
"Mari..." Lara breathed, a warm, tender smile breaking across her face.
"Don't look at me like that," Mari murmured instantly, her cheeks flushing a faint pink under the moonlight as she looked back out over the lake, trying and failing to regain her usual rigid composure. "I'm simply stating an observation."
Lara shifted her position on the balcony rail, stepping closer until her side brushed against Mari’s shoulder. She didn't press her advantage or tease her, not with that familiar, lingering fragility hanging over them like the summer humidity. Instead, she rested her elbows on the rail next to Mari, leaning into her space with a quiet, persistent warmth.
"You're terrible at lying, Mari," Lara whispered, her voice missing its usual loud edge, softening into something far more tender.
"I'm not lying," Mari insisted quietly, though she didn't move away. Her heart was beating a panicked, betraying rhythm against her ribs, but she kept her gaze locked onto the dark surface of the lake, stubbornly clinging to her composure. "I was only pointing out that you have a bad habit of stealing all the quiet, and then leaving only the silence behind."
Lara let out a small, breathless laugh, bowing her head slightly so her mess of braided hair fell forward, catching the warm draft rising from the street below. "I'm not going anywhere right now. I'm standing right here."
"Tonight, yes," Mari murmured. The words slipped out before she could catch them, loaded with the unspoken truth they both lived under, that Lara was a fleeting presence, fading a little more beneath their fingertips with every passing day, no matter how brightly she smiled for Luca or how loudly she sang.
"You should go to him," Mari interrupted softly, the words scraping against her throat like dry sand. She forced herself to turn and look at Lara in those beautiful crystalline eyes, burying her own ache beneath a fragile layer of protective composure. "He’s thoughtful. He’s kind. He can give you the kind of life... the kind of story you’re looking for."
Lara’s brow furrowed, a faint sadness shadowing her expression. "Mari, that's not—"
"It is," Mari said, her voice dropping to a gentle, steady murmur, though her fingers trembled where they gripped the metal. She forced a faint, subtle smile, one meant entirely to reassure, even as it cost her everything to offer it. "You believe he could be the one, don't you? Your prince. You shouldn't hold back on my account just because I'm used to the quiet. If he is the person who can save you... then you need to let him."
Mari turned away, keeping a tense smile on her face as she got up. “It’s late, we should head to bed soon.”
Sara watched her go with a solemn face, her fingers outstretched to plead for Mari to stay, for just a bit longer, but no words came out of her throat.
The heavy silence of the bedroom felt different than before, less hollow, but far tighter, weighed down by the unspoken words hanging between them.
The soft rustle of sheets filled the dark room as Mari adjusted her futon, smoothing out the blanket with meticulous, practiced movements. Beside her, just a few feet away, Lara had already settled onto her own futon, turned completely to the wall, her crimson hair spilled messily over the pillow. She was unusually quiet, lacking her usual dramatic sighs, fidgeting, or late-night chatter.
Mari pulled her soft eye mask down over her eyes, plunging her vision into familiar blackness. She lay flat on her back, hands folded neatly over her chest, trying to force her breathing into a slow, rhythmic cadence.
Minutes stretched on, measured only by the distant hum of night cicadas outside the window screens and the lethargic movement of Gon in the tank.
"Mari?" Lara’s voice broke the quiet, low and hesitant, muffled slightly by her pillow.
"Yes?" Mari replied evenly from behind her mask, her body remaining entirely still.
"You really think... he could be the one?"
The question floated in the dark, fragile and heavy. Beneath the silk of her eye mask, Mari’s eyes squeezed shut. Her chest tightened with a sharp, familiar ache, but she forced her posture to stay relaxed, her tone remaining steadfast and calm.
"You deserve someone who can give you the world, Lara," Mari murmured softly into the dark. "If you believe it's him... then you shouldn't doubt it."
Lara didn't reply right away. Mari heard the soft friction of fabric as Lara shifted slightly on her futon, but she didn't turn back around.
"Goodnight, Mari," Lara whispered barely above a breath.
"Goodnight," Mari whispered back, pulling the mask just a fraction tighter against her face to catch the heat rising to her skin, listening to the quiet space between their futons until sleep finally took them.
_______________________
Over the next fortnight, the distance between them grew not from absence, but from a quiet, deliberate shift in gravity.
Lara spent almost every afternoon with Luca. They frequented the quiet harbor cafes, wandered through the garden grounds, and spent endless hours by the water. True to her promise, Mari tagged along occasionally, a quiet, shadow-like presence walking a half-step behind them. She watched Luca hand Lara soft drinks, the ones Lara didn’t like, watched Lara laugh at his easy joke, and watched the subtle, terrifying way Lara’s energy seemed to flicker like a spent candle whenever she thought no one was looking.
Lara played her part flawlessly. She flashed her brilliant, blinding smiles, insisted she was fine, and brushed off her growing fatigue with lighthearted excuses about the humid late-summer heat. She acted as if everything were perfect, as if her time weren't steadily running out, and as if Luca truly were the fairy tale answer she needed.
It wasn't until late one evening, back in the stifling quiet of their shared room, that the facade finally cracked.
Lara was sitting at the low table on their balcony, humming a bright tune as she brushed out her hair, making a grand show of how wonderful the day’s outing had been. "Luca found this incredible spot by the pier today," Lara said, her voice dripping with artificial cheer. "He said we should all go back next week. Isn't that great, Mari?"
Mari stopped folding the laundry in her lap. She didn't look up, but her hands were trembling faintly against the cotton fabric.
"Stop it, Lara," Mari said, her voice dropping into a low, fragile thread.
Lara paused, the hairbrush hovering mid-air. "Stop what? I'm just telling you about—"
"Stop pretending," Mari interrupted softly, her dark eyes rising to meet Lara’s with a raw, translucent pain she couldn't hide any longer. "Stop forcing yourself to smile for him when you're exhausted. Stop trying to convince me that you're happy."
Lara’s bright expression faltered, a flicker of panic and defense crossing her features. "I am happy, Mari. I'm trying to make this work. I'm trying to find—"
"It hurts," Mari whispered, the confession slipping past her lips before she could build another wall to stop it. The words were small, sweet, and utterly heart-wrenching in their honesty. "It hurts watching you give him all the pieces of yourself that are running out."
Lara froze, the brush slipping slightly in her fingers.
"I told you to go to him because I thought it would save you," Mari continued, her chest heaving as she gripped the fabric in her lap, looking away as a faint, humiliated flush bloomed on her cheeks. "I told you he could be your prince. But every time you laugh with him, every time you come back here smelling like the sea and talking about his day…”
The heavy silence of the room settled around them, no longer empty, but thick with the quiet confession Mari had spent weeks trying to bury.
"I was fine before you came to Shiga," Mari added, her voice dropping into a barely audible fraying whisper, bitter and dangerously close to breaking. "I had my schedule. I had my quiet. But you swept in, made yourself at home in our room, made me get used to the noise... and then you got all comfortable in my heart and now..."
Lara’s lips parted slightly, as if preparing to say something, anything, but Mari heard no words fall from her mouth.
“I just miss you,” Mari finished with a low murmur.
Lara didn't speak. She ran her fingers over the smooth expanse on the railing, the coldness seeping into her skin.
Mari couldn't bring herself to look up. The humiliated heat burning up her neck was unbearable, stripping away every last shred of the quiet reserve she had so desperately gripped onto. She curled her fingers into her cotton shorts, bracing herself for Lara's easy laughter, her gentle pity, or another lighthearted joke to smooth over the wreckage Mari had just laid bare.
Instead, the soft rustle of shoes brushing against concrete signaled Lara moving closer.
Before Mari’s mind could urge her to retreat, she reached out. It wasn't a calculated move nor one she would make in any other scenario, it was merely pure, desperate instinct. Her hand closed gently over Lara’s wrist, her thumb settling directly over the pulse point.
Lara froze. Underneath Mari’s palm, Lara’s skin was cool, alarmingly cool, a quiet, terrifying reminder of how little time remained, but the steady, fluttering beat of her heart against Mari's touch was painfully real. Mari didn't pull her closer, nor did she let her go. She simply held Lara tethered to her, her fingers slightly tightening as she finally raised her eyes to meet Lara’s.
Lara stared down at Mari’s hand wrapped around her wrist, her bright blue eyes widening in genuine, stunned silence. The cheer she had worn all evening melted away, replaced by a sudden, breathtaking clarity. In that tiny, uncharacteristic action, in the tender way Mari clung to her as if she were the only thing keeping her anchored to the earth, Lara saw everything.
"Mari..." Lara whispered, her voice cracking under the sudden weight of the space between them.
Lara’s lips parted, a faint tremble touching her mouth as she slowly sank down onto her knees directly in front of Mari. She didn't pull her wrist away. Instead, she turned her hand into Mari’s, intertwining her cool fingers with Mari's warm ones.
"I thought I had to," Lara breathed, her eyes shimmering with a quiet, overwhelming tenderness that made Mari's chest ache. "I thought... If I found him, I could stay. But you never wanted me to leave, did you?"
"I never wanted you to leave," Mari admitted, the confession slipping out small, sweet, and entirely devoid of defense.
Lara leaned forward until her forehead rested gently against Mari’s, her breath brushing warm against Mari's cheek, sea-salt and citrus filling the tiny space between them. "Then I won't," Lara whispered, her smile soft, exhausted, and entirely honest for the first time in weeks. "I'll stay right here with you.”
Lara offered a small smile, her eyes crinkling as she locked onto the obsidian eyes a breath away from her. “You missed me.”
Mari turned her head away, looking out toward the balcony, suppressing the small, reluctant tug at the corner of her lips. "Don't flatter yourself."
_______________________
The room was quiet, save for the soft, steady hum of the electric fan in the corner blowing cool air across the tatami mats. Outside, the night insects buzzed softly against the screen window.
Mari lay flat on her back in bed, a black sleep mask pulled firmly down over her eyes. She was rigid as usual beneath her thin summer quilt, her hands clasped neatly over her stomach despite the newfound ease in her shoulders.
Down on the floor, tucked into her low futon, Lara stared up at the ceiling. The faint streetlamp light that had yet to dim filtered through the window, casting long, gentle shadows across the room. She shifted, the rustle of the cotton sheets sounding loud in the stillness.
Lara rolled onto her side, propping her head up on her hand to look toward the bed.
"Mari?" she called out softly, her voice low in the dark, as if hesitant to disturb anyone, or anything between them.
Mari didn't move an inch, though her jaw tightened slightly under the fabric of the mask. "It’s past eleven, Lara. You need to sleep."
Lara smiled, completely unbothered. She pulled the blanket up to her chin, her deep blue eyes fixed on the dark shape of Mari’s silhouette behind the sheet. Recently, Mari had begun to keep the sheet slightly open, just enough that her head and shoulders were visible to Lara, and it was just enough to ease that pierce within Lara’s heart.
"You're not sleeping either," Lara murmured softly, her breath catching slightly as she watched Mari's chest rise and fall in a slow, forced rhythm.
Mari remained motionless, but her hands clasped tighter over her stomach. "I am trying to. Which is impossible when you're staring at me."
"I can't help it," Lara said, her tone dropping into that gentle, honest cadence that always managed to slip past Mari's defenses. She adjusted her pillow, her blue eyes tracing the line of Mari's jaw, softened by the warm glow of the streetlight. "It's just... nice. Seeing you like this."
Mari let out a quiet breath, the sound carrying a mixture of exhaustion and a soft, reluctant warmth. She reached up, slowly pulling the eye mask up to rest on her forehead, opening her dark eyes to the dim room. She turned her head sideways on the pillow, looking down at Lara on the floor.
Lara’s smile widened in the dark as she hummed. She pulled the covers tighter around herself and closed her eyes, letting the steady rhythm of Mari’s routine breathing lull her into a tired state.
"Goodnight, Mari."
"...Goodnight, Lara."
The room fell back into a peaceful quiet, the steady breeze of the rustling the leaves outside. Down on her futon, Lara stared up through the dim shadows at the edge of Mari’s bed, her heart thumping a soft, rhythmic beat in her chest.
She shifted quietly, slipping one arm out from under her thin cotton quilt. Reaching up toward the wooden frame, Lara extended her hand, her fingers lightly brushing against Mari’s calloused knuckles resting near the edge of the mattress. At the sudden touch, Mari’s hand twitched, her fingers curling inward for a split second as if to pull away. But she didn't retreat.
Slowly, carefully, beneath the dark cover of twilight that had settled over the room, Mari let her hand relax. Her hand shifted over the edge of the mattress, searching awkwardly in the dim light until her small pinky found Lara’s index finger, hooking firmly around it in a quiet, tight hold.
Lara let out a tiny, breathless exhale, her thumb tracing the side of Mari’s knuckle.
"I'm glad we talked," Lara whispered softly into the dark.
Mari didn't answer with words, but her grip on Lara’s finger tightened just a fraction into an unyielding grip as the quiet room settled into sleep around them.