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Ena was having a bad day.
Which usually would mean everyone else in the Shinonome household would also be having a bad day. But after breakfast’s complaints about being ‘too bloated’, her drawings ‘looking like shit’, and that ‘nothing was working’, everything had been quiet. Suspiciously quiet. The muffled sounds of objects breaking, complaints and screams never came from inside Ena's locked bedroom, and that was more worrying than anything.
Akito sighed. No, he didn't think she had gone that far from just another usual bad day, but still. Too damn quiet. Nothing good could possibly be brewing in there.
And the thing was: he couldn't check on her. That was out of question. Absolutely not an option, not if he didn't want to get yelled at and leave with no actual answer to his question. Their mother had already tried; it was equally as fruitless as his attempt would've been. Though excluding the ‘getting yelled at’ part.
The worse thing was: the only other option to get in contact with his sister, to make sure she hadn't done anything idiotic, was through that pink-haired nuisance he knew as her friend. And since desperate times called for desperate measures, that's what he did. He contacted her, and she replied saying that she could try to talk to Ena before leaving school. Akito wasn't even sure if Ena was going to attend school that day, but it was his best shot.
Now, he could only hope that would work out.
“Yahoo! Ena, you there?”
Tracking down Ena’s location was fairly easy, at least in Mizuki's opinion.
It was something she wouldn't tell her, but Ena could be quite… predictable, at times. And If predictability wasn't anything to go by, Mizuki could always scavenge through Ena's private twitter account for clues on what she could be doing.
But this time it wasn't necessary, as the more Mizuki searched for spots where Ena could be, the more it became obvious that she was hiding in one of the least used, half-abandoned bathrooms in the school. At the very last stall.
“Mizuki?” Ena replied, lightly hoarse. It was obvious she'd been crying. Hiding her emotions had never been one of Ena's strengths. “What are you doing here? Get out.”
“So mean. Unfortunately, I can’t,” Mizuki said, playfully, but keeping an even voice tone. She walked towards the stall and leaned on its door. “Your lil bro is worried sick about you, ya know? So I can’t leave until I'm able to confirm that you're okay.”
“Tell Akito that he can fuck off. I’m okay. It doesn't matter.”
“Yeah… that's very evident, but I still need to check on you.”
“Seriously, since when are you his carrier pigeon? If Akito wants to hear from me, tell him that I told him to fuck off out of my bussiness! It doesn't concern him in any way!”
Mizuki furrowed her brows, quietly sighing against the cold, metal door. “Ena, you don't need to tell Lil bro how you're feeling, but you're also worrying me, as your friend. Can’t you open the door so we can talk? Amia to Enanan, no Akito?”
“...” Ena didn't reply. Mizuki could hear her sniffling, and, after a minute, the faint sound of the bathroom latch sliding open.
Ena was sitting on the toilet, eyes red and swollen, nose running, and uniform’s sleeves dirty. She silently clutched at her arm, looking up at Mizuki.
Neither of them uttered a single word to each other at first. Mizuki’s brows furrowed further before her facial expression became melancholic and stunned. She approached her, sitting on the dirty floor beside the toilet. Mizuki wondered when it was the last time someone had ever mopped that floor.
“That's gross,” Ena quietly sniffled again.
“Can I see it?”
“Huh?”
“Can I see it?” Mizuki repeated her question, unchanged, hugging her knees and looking at Ena with worry written across her face.
“... Why do you need to?” Ena replied, harsh and crestfallen in tone. “I fucked up, I get it. You don't need to rub it in my face.”
“I’m not rubbing it in your face. You need to disinfect those. Do you have any bandages on you?”
Ena once again didn't reply. She got up, grabbing her bag that was tossed at the corner of the stall and pulling a band-aid pack out of it, then extending the box towards Mizuki.
Mizuki took it into her hands, being able to feel Ena's body temperature at the tips of her fingers during their little exchange.
“Well… unless you plan on using toilet water I would recommend you to go wash that on the sink. I’ll stay right here, if you want me to.” Mizuki said, holding the box close to her.
“... Come with me,” Ena replied, shooting Mizuki a glance before walking out of the stall. Mizuki followed suit.
Ena rolled up her sleeves as they reached the sink and the faucet was turned on. Mizuki couldn't help but momentarily avert her gaze. It was bad. It looked really bad, there was no other way to put it. Not only did the wounds look deeper than anything Mizuki had ever seen, but there was blood, both fresh and dried, all over them and her cream uniform blouse. Ena hadn't taken care of it at all.
“You must think I'm crazy now or something,” Ena muttered, flinching as the wounds came in contact with the cold water.
Mizuki dodged Ena's self-deprecating comment. She stood close, tempted to hold her hand in an attempt to soothe Ena, but unsure if that would make the situation worse. “Man, is there even soap in those dispensers…? Great call, Ena, coming here out of all places,” she lightheartedly teased. It was a small semblance of normality, the only way Mizuki knew how to distract herself and not let everything go to shit.
“Shut up. I came here because I didn't want anyone to find me, I couldn't give less of a fuck about some damn… soap dispensers, or whatever…”
Mizuki bit her inner cheek, watching the red-stained water disappear down the drain. Ena had a pained look on her face, a single tear-streak falling down one of her cheeks. As the water came to a halt, they both realized there were no paper towels in there either.
And the next thing Ena knew was that Mizuki was using her cardigan’s sleeve to pat her forearm dry.
Ena tried to pull back, eyes widening, but Mizuki held her in place by her other arm. “Mizuki…! You're going to get your clothes all dirty, what the hell?!”
“It is going to feel gross, having your sleeve wet on top of the amount of blood it's already stained with. I’m going home soon anyway, I can just wash my cardigan once I’m there.” Mizuki said, continuing to gently tend to her girl. “It’s not a big deal, really.”
Ena wiped at the tears with her free hand in a fluster. “Why… you don't need to do that. Just go home already.”
“Uhm, no, sorry. I’m not doing that.” She opened the band-aid box, holding it between her knees as she grabbed one. “I'm gonna put it on, okay?”
Ena reluctantly agreed. Mizuki was a little clumsy with the bandages, as Ena squirmed the whole time and made it difficult to put them in place without hurting her.
"It hurts,” she said, absentmindedly, after Mizuki had finished.
‘Of course it hurts.’ Mizuki wanted to reply, but she couldn't bring herself to. Instead, she apprehensively looked at the teary-eyed Ena in front of her, whose lips quivered.
They were both angry, confused, and, more than anything, sad.
“Ena…” Gathering her courage, she took Ena's hands in hers, closing the distance between them. “Are you late for your classes?”
“I don't know. I don't care if I am right now, to be honest.”
“Okay then.”
Mizuki quietly, tightly wrapped her in a hug. Ena froze at first, unsure how to reciprocate the gesture, afraid to somehow get Mizuki even more dirty. But after a short while she let herself melt into the embrace, burying her face in Mizuki's upper chest.