Chapter Text
These kinds of nights are the most dangerous.
“Eeh, really? Never?”
“Why is that so surprising, huh?” Ena grumbles in her shrill tone, equally annoyed as she is flustered, but still retaining an edge of grumpiness.
Mizuki stops working on the video and leans back in her chair. This is dangerous territory, covered in landmines left and right. Mizuki needs to carefully plan and prepare for every step.
Or, you know, she could just walk away from this minefield.
“Come ooon, Enanan, tell me more,” she teases, in that tone that she knows would be recognized as shameless flirting by anyone else but the girl on the other side of the monitor.
Mizuki’s fatal flaw is that, when it comes to Ena, she can never really resist playing with fire. Always careful and guarded with everyone else, Ena is the one person Mizuki always ends up pushing, testing, riling up. She was never able to resist her.
“Haa? What is there… There’s nothing more. I just never had a crush on a guy. Mou. Yuki and K are coming back online any moment, so you’d better have a draft to show them.”
“But this is soo interesting…”
“Why though?”
Well, talking about crushes isn’t that interesting to Mizuki. But Ena is getting defensive, for some reason. Very defensive. That’s what’s interesting. Mizuki has been wanting to dig deeper into this since the other day, when she compared Ena to Kuromi. Ena had gotten so weirdly annoyed at Mizuki pointing out that, just like the Sanrio character, Ena might like good looking men. She had frowned and her cheeks had flushed and she had interrupted Mizuki. She seemed angry, even, almost offended.
Mizuki needs to know more. And she hates that she wants to know more because it’s not like this has anything to do with her. Ena is her friend. Her best friend. She doesn’t even know about Mizuki, and Mizuki has been deceiving her, lying to her.
And because of this Mizuki knows she’ll lose her any time soon.
Even though she doesn’t want to.
“Because, you know, it’s you!” Mizuki exclaims. “You seem like the type to have a poster of some heartthrob from some idiot drama up in your room.”
“What?!”
Ena is getting angry. Mizuki goes for the kill.
“Yeah, and you’d smooch the poster every day and post selfies hoping the actor would find your account-”
“Enough!” Ena roars, and Mizuki startles back.
She didn’t expect this. Ena is not just annoyed with her—she’s furious. There’s something raw in her voice that makes Mizuki feel instantly guilty. She feels cold all over.
“Ena-”
“Just shut up for a second, will you?”
Oh, Ena is terribly upset. Mizuki’s heart is trying to beat out of her chest.
She thought she had it under control; she has been careful in avoiding the landmines all around herself, so that they wouldn’t explode and cause her to accidentally show her hand, reveal her feelings for Ena that she definitely should not experience, let alone entertain. She wasn’t careful enough in sidestepping those landmines that would set Ena off, though. Mostly because she tends to see Ena as quite harmless.
Mizuki thinks she knows Ena pretty well. Above all, she knows extremelywell how to push all her buttons without ever truly upsetting her. This is out of character. She missed something, something that-
Suddenly, it clicks.
Her original question didn’t mention guys at all. She only asked Ena about crushes in general. And throughout their conversation, Ena kept insisting she’s never had a crush on a guy. Could Ena…
For some reason, Mizuki had never considered this. Even though Ena is always glaring at guys who catcall them in the street, sometimes even flipping them off, and she never mentioned anything that was remotely close to “boy talk”. And she’s so dismissive of guys in general, never really liked a male idol or actor or public person. Now that Mizuki thinks about it, Ena is instead always talking about how pretty the female idols and models in the magazines they check together are, and has seen her getting a bit flustered around attractive girls.
Mizuki is an idiot, sometimes. It has always been glaringly obvious. Ena is a lesbian. Of course she would get angry at Mizuki teasing her so much about guys.
On top of that, Mizuki jokingly implied that Ena might post selfies to get guys’ attention. Which, to be fair, Mizuki always suspected, and she’s surprised that might not be the case.
Oh. It makes Ena’s relationship with her account worse. Mizuki knows, has always known, that it’s Ena’s coping mechanism, toxic and maladaptive as it is. She knows it’s her outlet, her way to fill the gaping hole inside of her that is always craving attention in all the wrong places. Mizuki knows—and she’s never liked it. She has always tried, with jokes and little jabs, to make Ena see that her selfie account is bad news. She sees Ena’s poses, sometimes in her school uniform. She sees what kind of people comment on it.
All those disgusting guys, commenting hearts and telling Ena how cute she is. Some of them are old—Mizuki knows they probably get off seeing such a pretty high school girl posting pictures of herself with her stuffed animals and black tights.
She knows they all just want to fuck her.
Mizuki knows that because she’s not that different, because just like most of them, Mizuki also has notifications on for the account. She’s also one of the first people to click on a new post, and leave a like. Just like those disgusting men, Mizuki also feels attracted to Ena. Her eyes wander to her chest, her thighs, her neck. Her stomach twists and her heart aches and she yearns.
Oh, she was so stupid, earlier.
“I’m sorry,” she croaks out, and Ena doesn’t reply.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you-”
“It’s fine,” Ena mumbles, and her voice makes Mizuki feel instantly relieved while also increasing her guilt tenfold. It’s a paradox.
Ena sighs. “Just… finish the draft,” Ena cuts her off curtly, and Mizuki’s words die in her throat. “I’m sending you one more asset—the one where the character closes her eyes. Let me know if you need more poses. I’ll go grab some soda, be right back.”
She leaves the voice channel without waiting for a reply. Mizuki stares at the screen, yet barely registers it when Ena sends her the asset Mizuki had been asking for. She feels sick.
Ena likes girls. More importantly, she dislikes men.
Mizuki takes off her headset and stares at it, feeling numb in a way that she hasn’t felt in a while. Her hands are shaking slightly, her heart hurts.
She should have just kept her stupid mouth shut. She knew, she knew that nothing good would come of this. Why would she even want to know about Ena’s love life? As if Mizuki stands a chance.
And now here she is, with the confirmation that Ena exclusively like girls eating at her even when ultimately it does not matter. Nothing will ever come of this, Mizuki has made peace with it since before they met in real life. She has been crushing on Ena since she met her, after all.
Finding Ena’s art felt like being thrown a life jacket while she was drowning in a stormy sea. Finding Ena’s selfie account instead felt like being thrown in a whole different storm, one of flushed cheeks and disgusting, sinful desires and bitter jealousy.
Mizuki’s relationship with Ena’s selfie account is… complicated. She’s never liked it, yet can’t get enough of it. That account perfectly encapsulates and showcases all the parts of herself that will always make her different, abnormal; someone who should be kept at arm’s length, who stains everything she touches just by existing.
Because the truth of the matter is that Mizuki could never have an account like that. If she wanted to start a page where to share her cutest outfits, her comment feed would be flooded with people who know. Instead of focusing on how cute the outfit she put together is, or how good her make-up looks, they would only be talking about one thing.
Did you know this is actually a guy?
Ugh, what an attention-seeker.
Gross.
Hey, they look quite cute for a—
Mizuki closes her eyes, her headset fall on her desk with a loud clunk. She can never have what Ena has, and she is bitter. Which is unfair—it’s not like this is Ena’s fault. Yet Mizuki can’t help but tease her about the account any chance she gets. She tells herself she does so for Ena’s sake, to subtly make her see she should ease up on this toxic coping mechanism, and sure, that might be part of it but… The truth is that Mizuki is simply not that good a person.
Unfairly bitter and repulsively attracted, she has had perverted, vile dreams about her best friend. In them, Ena kisses her and loves her and touches her without any disgust, and Mizuki is allowed to touch, see, experience in return. Sometimes, just looking through Ena’s account reminds her of those sickening, exploitative dreams, and she should really just at least turn her notifications off for it.
Mizuki won’t stop—she tried. That account is a window into Ena’s headspace, a way for Mizuki to know how she’s doing, when she doesn’t- Oh, who is she kidding.
Mizuki is disgusting.
And now she has hurt Ena, assuming she’d be into men and making fun of her account for the thousandth time when she should have learned by now to be more careful about it.
What was all this for, anyway? What has she gained from this, if not the warning signs of an imminent panic attack burning in her chest? Bile rises to her mouth. She is going to be sick.
Ena is back online—Mizuki can see her talking in the voice channel. Her voice is a soft murmur coming from her headset, and Mizuki refuses to pick it back up.
“AMIA!”
Ena’s voice finally reaches her, and Mizuki is so startled she jumps a bit, her heart in her throat. She wears the headset again without even thinking about it, her nausea subsiding.
“E-Enanan… You must have woken up your whole family…”
“Well, maybe if you’d listen to me. Ugh. Did you hear a word I said?”
“Sorry, I wasn’t wearing my headset.”
“You’re such a- Oh, whatever. I was saying I’m sorry for flipping out earlier, and that I’m not mad at you. Though now I am, a bit, since you were ignoring me. You jerk.”
The more Ena talks, the more relaxed Mizuki feels. She craves more. Ena should talk more, fill the hole in her chest with mindless chatter and annoyed jabs and fun bickering. Mizuki hears the distinct sound of someone drinking out of a straw, and finds herself speaking before thinking about it.
“What drink did you get?”
Mizuki knows her voice is shaking, and holds her breath when Ena hesitates.
“Did you just ignore my apology?! You’re such a- ugh. Ah, whatever. I got some… uhh…” Ena clearly picks up a can from her desk, “I have no idea what this is.”
Mizuki smiles incredulously at the screen. “Fufufu, did you steal Lil Bro’s soda?”
“H-he drank all my sweet tea!”
“Hmm, Enanan is such a little thief.”
“He’s the thief! Are you even listening to me? You’re so annoying. I’m muting you.”
“Noooo I’m sorryyy… Please don’t mute me?”
Even though Mizuki is using a funny tone, there’s a slight panic playing in the pit of her stomach at the idea of being left alone with her thoughts.
“Behave, then.”
“I promise!”
“Hmph.”
Mizuki grins at the screen, in love and in pain. She starts rattling off, talking about this and that, some anime or another and the new lolita pop-up shop in Shibuya, everything and anything to keep her mind from wandering back where Mizuki is sure to drown.
“Oh, and I was just window shopping this afternoon and I saw a purse that would go very well with that one outfit you recently wore in one of your selfies.”
“Wait, which one?”
“The one you took in front of a mirror at that cute cafe… You’re wearing a cream-colored long dress. It was giving very ‘otona girly’ as a style but your purse was a bit too casual for it. Wait, let me check. You posted it...”
Mizuki picks up her phone and scrolls through Ena’s account, swallowing her anxiety. Maybe she shouldn’t have brought this up. Looking at the account in this state of mind is not helping with her goal, namely to not think. But it would be weird to backtrack at this point, so she taps on the post she means and forces herself to adopt a cheerful tone.
“…Three days ago.”
“Let me see… Oh, that one. You know, I think I see what you mean. Mind sending me a link to the purse you saw?”
Mizuki opens the shop website while talking in her mic. “Yeah, lemme get it… Here you go. See?”
“Hmm, that is pretty. And it’s not too pricey either… Oh, they have it at the usual mall. We could have an outing this weekend?”
Mizuki knows she should say no, keep her distance. But Ena made a promise and Mizuki sometimes is too weak to do the right thing and resist temptation.
“Sure thing!”
“It’s a date, then,” Ena says cheerfully, and Mizuki’s traitorous heart skips a beat.
“We could also check that MiraMagi collab cafe that opens tomorrow?”
“Hai hai,” Ena replies with a happy sigh. “Oh, and Mizuki. About that one outfit. Mind pulling up the pic again?”
“You need some more advice from this fashion genius?”
Mizuki keeps her tone light, playful, despite her guilt. She’s pulling one over Ena. If Ena knew who she’s really asking to take a closer look at her body, if Ena knew the horrid thoughts Mizuki gets sometimes-
“Shut up and stop being a pain in the ass. Do you think the dress is a bit large around my waist?”
Mizuki zooms in, suddenly feeling focused. She traces the overall shape of the dress with her finger, pursing her lips as she looks at its ripples and folds and how they hug Ena’s silhouette.
“Hmm… I think it would benefit from getting cinched at the back… And it actually looks overall a bit flat… Like, it’s very pretty and sometimes simple isn’t a bad thing but… A flowy silhouette would probably fit better in this case.”
“Ah, just as I thought. You think if we stop at the sewing lounge you could fix it for me?”
They have done this several times, and it’s one of Mizuki’s favorite ways to spend time with Ena. She loves getting lost in her handiwork, just to sometimes glance up at Ena and find her staring at her with her eyes full of admiration and curiosity and affection. Ena always looks so happy when Mizuki is enjoying herself around her, because Ena cares. When Mizuki doesn’t deserve it. She wants to turn her down, tell her it’s too difficult a job and to bring the dress to a tailor or something, but her mouth answers for her.
“I think I could pull it off.”
“Perfect! I’ll text you the details tomorrow then.”
Mizuki is hurting. This isn’t helping. She needs to change the subject. She doesn’t want to think. She wracks her brain to find a topic that might be of interest to Ena, so that she can take the lead and help drown out the noise in Mizuki’s head with her lovely voice.
“Alright. Oh, by the way, how’s that new drama you mentioned last week? New episode today, right? Is it any good?”
Ena doesn’t reply. Mizuki hears her inhale a couple of times, as though she’s opening her mouth to speak and then changing her mind.
“Everything okay, Enanan?”
“Hmm? Yeah. I just… Are you okay?”
Mizuki blinks at the screen, before smiling in defeat. No matter how clueless Ena is about most things, she always seems to read her, as though by instinct.
“Me? I’m happy as a clam! Cool and dandy! Cute and lovely!”
Ena doesn’t laugh. Mizuki can perfectly picture her worried face, the way she furrows her brow and looks at Mizuki like she cares so much. She hears Ena inhale sharply, and sees her biting her lip as she remembers her promise to wait without pressuring Mizuki.
Mizuki is so in love it hurts. Nothing good can come out of their situation. Nothing. Everything is so messed up, hopeless-
“I really am not mad anymore. About before. I know you didn’t mean anything bad. I know you, Amia. You’re a good friend.”
Mizuki closes her eyes.
Ena is so kind. Too kind.
“E-eeh, what’s this all of a sudden?”
“Don’t play dumb. I know when you’re just trying to talk about random stuff to stop thinking. I can tell.”
Mizuki can never win against her. It should be terrifying, and it is, but Mizuki also cannot help but feel some undeserved sense of comfort bloom in her chest. It’s gone in a second.
“Amia?”
Mizuki imagines telling her her secret. What face would Ena make? Would she look surprised? Disgusted? Would she look like she’s trying to take it well, while her earnest face betrays her true feelings? Would she shoot her a confused, terrified gaze, looking at her as though she does not recognize her?
Mizuki realizes she cannot picture Ena smiling at her in such a scenario.
She opens her mouth and no sound comes out. Her throat aches.
Ena sighs. “You worry too much sometimes, I swear. You’re my best friend, for crying out loud. Sometimes you act like I’m just some rando you started talking with yesterday. Stupid.”
All of a sudden, Mizuki sees it.
Ena might smile when Mizuki finally tells her. She might smile just like Mizuki knows she’s smiling right now: soft, affectionate, fondly exasperated. Kind. Warm.
Ena.
“Iyaa, I guess what you’re saying is you’ll forgive anything I might do or say?”
“Hey now, I wouldn’t go that far-”
“Hmm, hold on, I’m texting Lil Bro to ask him what kind of soda you just stole from him.”
“AMIA! You little-”
Ena starts shouting abuse at her and Mizuki finally laughs.
If it’s Ena, it will be okay.
Mizuki will probably grow insecure again, tomorrow, once the sun rises and casts a light on all the ways in which everything will fall apart once Ena and the rest of Niigo eventually learn about her. But right now, in the middle of the night, Mizuki truly believes that no matter what, she’ll be okay.
Because it’s Ena.
A force Mizuki can never fight back.
This knowledge is sometimes terrifying, and lights a fire in Mizuki’s legs. But as she teases Ena some more just for Ena to threaten to mute her again without actually having any intention of doing such thing, Mizuki only feels reassured. Safe. Like no matter what, no matter how lowly she sinks or far she falls, Ena will catch her.
They’ll be okay.