Chapter Text
The night hits as soon as they leave the diner. It basically slams into her– any lingering warmth from the indoors dissipating when a gust of frost-cut air hits her face. Mizuki blinks twice, sniffles, but ultimately trudges through the biting cold to hold the glass door open for her girlfriends. The metal knob burns through her hand.
It’s hard to believe it’s only November. Wintertime has descended over Shibuya like one large blanket. The days are hazed over with dark navies and flurry whites, softened by the lighthouses they call skyscrapers. You can look up and see millions of blurry orange and yellow windows. The colors blink in and out like stars. Not like she has an accurate description of stars– the city’s smog smothers everything. Don’t get her started on the actual city. Shibuya's nights are boarded with skyscrapers and towers and everything in between– all glistening– that nearly stab at the nebulas. She’s gotten around to enjoy it. There’s never a dark night here.
The frost pins down the sweat that had been steadily descending down her back the entire date. Mizuki can feel each individual droplet underneath her coat sit against her skin like knots. Swiping them away only adds to the tension. And here she thought the cold would smack her out of indecisiveness. She shivers, what a pain.
Kanade trots over to put her hands over her own. She’s too bundled up in the giant scarf Ena gifted her last Christmas to kiss, but the gentle squeeze of her gloves on her hands is enough to thaw enough of whatever was pinning her down. She hadn’t realized she was frozen in the first place.
Mizuki breathes in a gust of air. It dares to freeze over her lungs, and the threat is just what she needs to start moving again. That’s why she made this decision– to follow them. It doesn’t mean her knees won’t buckle as she does, but it’s a work in progress.
Mizuki is going to ask 25ji to marry her tonight.
No, she doesn’t think they would say no. Even in those early days where none of them were able to say the word ‘wife’ without overheating, they used to get so excited at the idea of staying forever together. Now it seems she couldn’t last a week without Ena complaining about the lack of a ring on her finger, or Mafuyu jumpscaring her with marriage statistics, or Kanade murmuring about which songs she would like to walk down the aisle too. They talk about it as much as most healthy couples do– a lot and ad nauseam. Almost concerningly so. So, realistically, there is no reason why her hands shake when she opens her purse.
It’s just– considering marriage to be the ‘natural’ “next step’’ in their relationship kinda makes her want to gag. Asking her partners’ hands in marriage is certainly not natural (see: the want to gag), and, if she really thinks about it, it wouldn’t change much. It’s just a name change and a chance to host some cool ass parties. And, by god, Mizuki has been dreaming of the day she’d become a Yoisaki.
The four walk back to the station in high spirits. Mizuki trails a little behind, watching the scene play out in front of her. Kanade has one hand around Mafuyu’s, another quickly shooting up to mute a yawn under gloved fingers. Ena snaps to the sound like a piranha. She reminds Kanade to go straight to bed after they drop her off, “Mizuki will snitch if you pass out at your desk again.” Mafuyu argues Kanade is an adult while pulling her closer in the same breath. Ena goes about her yeah, but-isms but her fight is weaker tonight. Tender. And maybe it's her eyes playing tricks on her, but Mizuki swears the streetlights illuminate them in this irradense hue. The need to get closer is no longer an ache but a gentle push. Like fizzy bubbles popping whenever she cracks open a soda or the insert song of an anime growing as the love interests get too close.
In the background traffic continues to race. Even further the trains are hissing into stations and people– running and seeing and breathing all over. But right now only the four of them exist.
Snow begins to fall. Mizuki inhales the ice and imagines it slowing the jackrabbit beating of her heart. The forecast says it’s the first snow of the winter. She wants it to continue forever.
“Mizuki.”
She looks up. Her partners are all looking at her.
“You stopped.” Mafuyu cocks her head, a silent question. Mizuki sucks in another breath. Feels the frostburn.
“Yeah. Um, before we go, I wanted to ask something.” Mizuki fights the stutter of the speech, fights the awkward fumblings of her hands. At this moment, she is perfect. “You know, these three years have been the best of my life.”
“Are you okay?” Ena’s voice is more confused than heated. Her gaze snaps from her face to the crossbody she slowly dips her hand into, almost daring her to confirm her suspicions.
“Don’t worry about it,” Mizuki laughs. “I’m just mentioning it because I want these days to last forever. And there’s one easy way to make that happen.”
Mizuki’s hand finds a tiny velvet box. She pulls it from her purse. Sinks to one knee.
“Kanade. Ena. Mafuyu.” The rings dazzle against the misty streetlights when she clicks open the box, the snow reflecting off their gold sheen. “Will you make me the happiest woman alive and marry me?”
Silence. The shock pervades like wads of glue, slowing the scene until it’s completely frozen in perpetual awe. Mizuki half-expects some omnipresent narrator to rattle off the moral of the story before the curtain closes so they run off to enjoy that perfect fairy tale ending.
“Oh.” Ena places a hand over her mouth. “Huh.”
The curtain opens wide. The audience are on the edges of their seats. Huh? Who says huh during a proposal?!
“Um.” That’s worse, Kanade! “I didn’t… you…” She pulls at the ends of her scarf as she fumbles for words. “Er– Mafuyu? What do you think?”
Mafuyu doesn’t bother with words– she just kicks the air out of her. Mizuki crashes onto brittle concrete. She can’t even attempt to scramble away before Mafuyu slams her boot onto her chest. The last thing Mizuki sees are their eyes– Ena’s amused, Kanade’s slightly apologetic, and Mafuyu’s, so dark not even light could pass through. She stomps her windpipe. Mizuki wakes up laughing so hard she cries.
See, Mizuki keeps having these weird dreams.
She wasn’t too peeved about the first couple. Mizuki’s imagination is known to run rampant, so nightmares about being abducted by Rui’s alien spaceship or getting murdered by knife-wielding Elmo dolls aren’t too concerning. Especially when it leads to Kanade calming her down in the bed they shared, rubbing her back with sleepy coos of "It’s okay, Kamishiro-san needs a permit before operating alien spaceships" until they both fall back asleep. It was fine then.
It’s only when she’s jolting awake for the seventh time, tired and shivering and alone in her parents’ home, that she realizes these nightmares aren’t just the subconscious need for more cuddles. The eighth time makes her seriously consider if this is something her therapist should know about. Oh god.
“Sleep disturbances are often tied to stress,” Hina says, scribbling lyrics on her notepad. She’s decidedly not her therapist, but she's close and willing to give valuable feedback without outright laughing at her.
“Are you saying I’m due for wrinkle lines?" Mizuki frowns, sitting up from where she was previously splayed over Hina’s bed. “Am I saying I’m due to wrinkle lines?”
Hina points the end of her pencil towards the handheld mirror on her desk. Y’know, the mirror Mizuki gifted for her birthday? Hina nearly cried when she first got it– It’s shaped like a crab and everything!
She huffs, standing to swipe the mirror from the desk Hina was sitting next to. Mizuki’s reflection puffs out her cheeks as she pouts, scrutinizing for any sneaky crow’s feet. None yet! Over the years her skin has only gone softer due to finally getting her hands on some estrogen. The progesterone only boosted things. Her face has filled out in the way she has always dreamed of, softer cheekbones and fuller lips and– oh, look at those dimples! She used to be so obsessed in burying herself in clothing that she hadn’t considered her body could change into a home itself.
“I’m not stressed.” Mizuki plops back on the bed, watching her lips twitch back into that familiar smile. She can’t press it down nowadays– how could she when she’s this close to fashion? She has finally risen through the ranks of her boutique to become the head manager! It’s not just finding the cutest clothes for her customers (which is already an impossible task!), but taking care of her team, dealing with finances, trying her best with pissed off moms– oh, she’s already been yelled at too many times this week.
Sometimes she misses her lazy part-time gig; calling all the hours she wanted while still having free time was a dream! But in those times she thinks about the people she reaches now. Once in a blue moon she gets the girl with a misdirected body she can only hide in frilly dresses. Helping them makes her role– not easier, but steadier. A little more firm.
Once in those blue moons she changes the clothes on the display mannequins and wonders if her stuff could be on those bodies. She usually laughs it off. Mizuki missed her opportunity of pulling a Yuuki in high school. Could you imagine? She’d probably freak out the moment a piece of hers had eyes on it!
Besides, it’s all worth it when she gets to stumble to Kanade’s and ramble to Hina-chan like this. She’s here most of the time now. Her situation isn’t the easiest either, but Mizuki can manage. All she can ask for is Hina’s happiness.
Is it being granted? Not really; Hina’s in middle school. But! She managed to scrape up enough meaning to get out of bed today! Her newest obsession with songwriting is doing wonders for her. She didn’t even look up when Mizuki entered– just “Welcome home, Akiyama.” And, yeah, that’s what it is. Mizuki is home.
Right now Hina is making a non-committal noise from her desk. Mizuki breaks away from her reflection to squint. “What? Do you think I’m secretly depressed or something?”
Hina shifts in her chair. For the first time tonight she turns, her eyes sharp as they look her over. Over the years she has grown into Mafuyu– at least a Mafuyu she knows– blunt, boring eyes and an expression only distinguishable through powers beyond them. She never got into the habit of tying up her hair in a ponytail like Mafuyu used to, fizzled curls fraying down her shoulders and back. Her mother’s scrunchie curls around her wrist.
Mizuki holds her gaze. Hina’s looking for the reprimand, so Mafuyu says. She absentmindedly smooths away the goosebumps ghosting her skin. Being stared at has never stopped feeling like a spectacle.
“You have been weird lately.”
Mizuki is calm and normal and does not want to bury herself in the carpet fibers. “Weird how?”
Hina’s eyes flicker to the floor– shit, she totally caught on to that last part. “Not weird, just quieter.”
Just quieter? Well, she can play that off with normal exhaustion. She has been tired for several months.
Mizuki tilts her head, a silent coax of could you tell me what else is wrong with me pretty please? Hina’s gaze flickers back to her for half a second before ultimately landing on her lyrics.
“You spend more time thinking,” she continues, pulling herself back to her desk. “And staring at the girls for extended periods.”
“Ah? Are you still hung up that we’re in love?” Mizuki laughs at Hina’s flat look. “Wait, are you jealous? Do you want a hug?”
She holds up her arms. Hina promptly shakes her head. “No thank you.”
“Boo~” Damn, she kinda hoped she got that hug. Mizuki flops back onto the bed with a thump. Hina’s ocean tapestry stares right at her– stock sea images spread wide against the ceiling. Ena’s lucky thrift find. Neither Mafuyu were decorators, but Kanade’s guest room ended up getting filled this time around. These purple walls contain so many trinkets Hina never got to keep at home– PXL plushies, marine textbooks, Kanade’s old synthesizer. And the tapestry, of course. Hina was the one who asked– hesitantly, as if unsure of her own words– if they could pin it above the bed.
The next day Mafuyu pulled a ladder in and nailed it into the ceiling. Hina barely breathed the entire time. Ena was worried her fingers would lose circulation with how hard she pressed her hands together. Yet when everything was said and done she couldn’t stop smiling. They spent the rest of the day watching her map out the trajectory of the waves. “If you squint,” she had whispered. “You can see the tides wash over you.”
“I don’t see how that makes me weird, unless being gay and quiet is weird…” She turns her head towards Hina. “You’re not projecting, are you?”
“No.”
“Thought so.” She hums, admiring herself in the mirror once again. “I would say it’s mean to call Yuki weird, but she wouldn’t care. K wouldn’t either.”
She begins rambling on how many gay and quiet friends she has– which isn’t a lot, they’re a loud bunch here. She half-expects Hina to tune her out again, but she turns back around when Mizuki reaches a lull.
“So you’re not planning anything?”
Mizuki sits up so fast it makes her dizzy. “What?”
Unfortunately, the adverse reaction of flinching is making Hina flinch too. Her face doesn’t change, but one of her hands grip onto the sidebar of her chair. “You’ve been protective over your bag recently. I thought you’re surprising the girls again.”
Why didn’t you start with that?! She doesn’t say anything, Hina’s is one misunderstanding away from spewing apologies at her feet, but it would’ve been nice. Mizuki gathers her purse into her arms like it’s her baby. It’s one of her favorites, heart-shaped and pink with all the room for the random shit she puts in there, so she thought no one would notice her never leaving anywhere without it draped around her shoulder. God forbid people are reminded she has a collection.
But moving from purse to purse is a liability, and this is something she doesn’t want to mess up.
“Akiyama?”
“It’s fine,” Mizuki says, drowning out the rest of her brain screaming that it, surprisingly, might not be fine. “Does Yuki know?”
“Probably. There’s an Akiyama Cycle.” Noticing her bewildered sputters, Hina picks up her pencil from her desk. “Your quietness increases with your excitement. It rises into the reveal before dropping during the aftermath.”
Right before her eyes, Hina raises her pencil into a trajectory before suddenly dropping it like it was one of those death-drop thrill rides. Mizuki gets the very sobering realization that her feelings could be mapped onto a bell curve graph, and that graph was currently being made by a thirteen year old girl.
Hina nods to herself. “It was easy to figure out.”
Easy?! Mizuki’s going to melt into a puddle of her own embarrassment. She thought she was pretty sneaky with it– “off-handedly” gauging out free time between the four of them for “dates,” casually bringing up jewels and ring styles, sneakily connecting strings under their noses. Well, Kanade noticed she was messing with her family’s stuff pretty quickly. Was pissed off for three whole days. Mizuki barely clutched that! And now all her efforts are being dug up by a single bell graph?!
“I don’t think this detracts from the surprises themselves,” Hina mentions oh so politely. Mizuki buries her face in her hands.
“It’s different.”
She blinks. “You once surprised them with a hot air balloon ride.”
“Everyone surprises their partners with a hot air balloon ride, that's why they're there.”
“–When it ended you led them to a lakefront cabin to spend the weekend,” Hina continues, barely acknowledging the interruption. “There were fireworks that spelled out your names over the water. It wasn’t your anniversary."
“I mean, we don’t really have one…” Hina scrutinizes her. Right.
It’s true that Mizuki can be a bit… overzealous when it comes from surprising 25ji. But why wouldn’t she? She has three of the cutest girls in the whole wide world and the means to explore it. Nothing’s off limits when it comes to seeing their smiles.
“It’s different,” Mizuki whines, leaning back to lamely kick her feet against the bedframe. “I can’t just spring it up like I always do.”
“Why not?”
She looks up. Hina’s expression has softened into something few can decipher as caring, but Mizuki’s been around Hina enough to know her ‘void’ beckons for nothing more than understanding. It’s nice, being wrapped up in a darkness only meant to hold you. Too bad that she has to find a way to get out of it. Boo!
Hold on. Why does she have to get out of this one?
To everyone else Hina remains a frequent family friend, but that doesn’t quite explain the scope of their relationship. Neither does something as straightforward as doppelganger– Hina and Mafuyu once vowed they will never be one another, and that has held true through the three years since they’ve met. Ever since she appeared on Kanade’s doorstep Hina has intertwined herself into this family in ways words simply can’t describe. But who can explain time travel anyway?
“It’s alot…” She smiles sheepishly. “I don’t want to bother you when you’re busy.”
“I’m available right now.”
Hina’s face changes a near militere– the slight tilt of her head, her lidded eyes widening just a bit. Mizuki feigns getting hit by a truck. Three years have not dampened the effect of those puppy dog eyes. She’s supposed to be the altruistic one! Mizuki has been planning to be super smart and brave by doing things by herself, but it could be nice to have a little help… Hmm. And Hina’s the least likely to blurt things out. Must be some Mafuyu gene. Right now, it’s working in her favor.
Mizuki casts a stray glance at the closed door. Kanade’s finishing up a composition, and the others are busy making dinner. If there’s any time to tell her, it’s now.
“Can you keep a secret?”
Hina nods, placing her pencil on the table. Mizuki zips her purse open and beckons her near.
“The smaller one is mine, but look at this.” Inside her bag sits two square, velvet boxes. “Neat, right?”
Hina stares. Mafuyu says Hina stares when she gets too into something (like she doesn’t do the same exact thing) but this was completely different. Her eyes widen enough to faintly mimic surprise. Ie: she’s fucking gobsmacked. She looks at Mizuki. The boxes. Mizuki.
Finally registering that this was in fact reality, Hina frowns. The look would’ve been stupidly cute if not for the word that followed. “Huh.”
Huh? Hasn’t she already said that’s the worst thing you can say to a proposal? Nightmare #7 is flashing before her very eyes. Mafuyu probably told her she’s thinking of breaking up. She’ll take Hina in the divorce, Kanade will have her home, and Ena will take everything else. Mizuki will be penniless, homeless, wifeless. And Mafuyu would kick her windpipe open after, just because!
“I thought Yuki would propose.”
Mizuki is so whiplashed she has to laugh. “Give or take a million years. I love her, but I’m way too impatient for that.” She pauses, her heart suddenly on route to splatter against the floor. “Yuki’s not proposing, right?”
“No.” Heart attack averted! “I don’t think the others are, either. Congratulations.”
“Awh, thank you!” Satisfied, Mizuki closes her purse. “I try my best to speed things up around here.”
Hina nods. “Do you have a date in mind?”
…And there goes any semblance of her wits! She coughs into her fist. “About that…”
Hina hums, completely unaware of her depravity. It pains her to rip out such innocence, but if she wants any semblance of help she needs to be honest. Mizuki has grown tired of hiding behind little white lies, no matter how embarrassing standing alone can be.
That being said, she can’t help the awkward trill in her voice. “Not particularly?”
“Oh.” Hina’s face doesn’t change. “Are you doing it spontaneously?”
“Well, that was the plan.” A beat. Hina doesn’t say anything because that wasn’t a complete answer doofus! “But, y'know, spontaneity isn’t my strong suit. Things fell through the first couple times, so I figured maybe I needed a plan to fall back to. Have you seen Emu recently? I basically channeled that business Wonderhoy grindset!” She cringes at Hina’s Blank look. “Er– that didn’t work either, but I’m getting better every day! Improvement is a sign of success! You can’t really propose again, except for maybe vow renewals, but I don’t think I’m proposing again, so I gotta do it right–”
“Akiyama.” The carefulness in Hina’s voice cuts straight through Mizuki’s blabbering. Her rambles get strangled in her throat. Was she really so bad Hina dropped into the good girl persona? “How many times have you proposed?”
Great question! She opens her mouth, only to close it– she tried sometime in summer too. Opens it again. Closes. Damn, she should’ve really kept that planner.
“...I got the rings four months ago?”
Hina’s trying to be so kind about it, but her eyebrows knit together in the same way they do when she’s trying to solve some herculean level equation. Mizuki feels something fragile somersault through her stomach and land in her ass. “So that hot air balloon trip…”
“...was supposed to be a proposal!” She claps as if Hina just buzzed in the correct answer at some shitty gameshow. “That attendant was super kind too– had the team scrub anything with the semblance of marriage off the Airbnb right before we landed. The girls didn’t know a thing!”
Mizuki laughs. And laughs. And… laughs. Hina doesn’t join her. Obviously. The air is left stenched with awkwardness.
Hina wouldn’t tell anyone. She wouldn’t– she’s literally limited to interact with the select people of their friend group. But if she keeps up that good girl persona every time she’s in proximity to her Mizuki would die. Literally, Ena would find out she broke Hina and poison her tea or something. But her cause of death will mostly be the way Hina would look at her, terrified, as if it was the first day all over again.
“Would you like to propose?”
Mizuki looks up. There’s not a trace of the hesitancy she has been fearing on Hina’s face. The baby fat has lessened with age, and the lines under her eyes and on her forehead have only grown heavier (granted, Mizuki probably caused that), but there’s no fear. She looks into her face wildly, almost desperate. Like she’s drawing something out of her. Pinned by the purple intensity in her eyes– Mizuki can only describe her wavering pupils as black fires.
“Yeah.” She nods, swallowing a sudden lump in her throat. “Very much, yeah.”
Hina nods. At once she stands from her table, collecting her notepad and putting it back in her bookbag. Mizuki starts to speak when she pulls out her laptop, but Hina shushes her with a hand. She sits next to her.
“So you're going to,” she concludes, lifting the lid of her laptop open. “Let’s make a plan.”
One thing Mizuki loves about the Mafuyus is when they get invested in something, they go full fucking throttle. It’s not often that Hina and Mafuyu act like, well, doppergangers, but seeing the gaps close between them is the cutest thing in the world!
Of course, this can have adverse side effects like the one time they were deadset on killing one another, or that other time they were deadset on killing one another, or– ah, bad example. Thing is, Hina can get very invested in something when she wants to be. And, unlike Mafuyu, she’s a little nicer when she has critique.
“So this is a problem with you?”
Nicer. Mafuyu would’ve just said it was a you problem right to her face, dead expression and all. At least Hina has the building blocks of concern. With the exception of dinner, Mizuki had just spent all night catching Hina up to all her various fumbles.
“Oh, probably.” Most definitely. “There have been times where things got out of my control, but most times it's time and I… I just can’t do it.” She laughs in a feeble attempt to distract from the flush crawling up her neck. Hina continues to type on her laptop. “I guess I have a chronic case of cold feet!”
Mizuki used to freeze at every middle-school choir concert. The whole thing was hell– climbing up the bleachers with the rest of the tenors and altos, jammed-packed between stiff shoulders and hot breaths of kids she never wanted to resemble. By the time the music started she had already bitten her tongue. The blood that had seeped from the wound tasted like cowardness, but not defeat. She remembers drinking it down like a feverish dog.
An gave her so much shit when she found out she almost flunked music, but it remains one of the worst subjects that middle-school curriculums are cursed to offer. Right behind PE– god, who decided systematic exercising was a good idea?
Hina taps a finger on the keys. “But you’re sure they will say yes.”
She barely thinks. “Of course.”
Hina stares at her keyboard, eyes sweeping across the letters as if searching for the right combination. Mizuki hugs her purse to her chest.
“Akiyama, do you know why you want to get married?”
The flush rises to Mizuki’s face. “Ah, well, there’s tax benefits.”
Hina’s eyes flicker in warning. She pouts. “I mean it! Ena’s getting too hard on herself for being a ‘starving artist’ or whatever, and the extra cash might allow her to finally relax. Besides, we won’t have to worry about insurance and other boring adult stuff. We can just live, I guess.”
If she holds her purse at the right angle, Mizuki can feel the two boxes push against the polyester. Depending on the day it feels like shoving hot coals around an open oven. Sparks fly across her skin. “I want to live with them. That’s all.”
“Arent you moving in with them soon?”
She shrugs. If Mizuki was braver she'd come closer, be closer until nothing can differentiate them from one another. But she stuffs her feelings in something stupid like a purse and convinces herself she’s fine being stuck in this current thing, only to get surprised when the door flies open anyway. Friends, girlfriends, fiances, wives– the labels mean nothing if Mizuki keeps getting them handed to her.
There must be a day where her fingers can pry her feelings out herself. But today she just looks at Hina and smiles. “They call marriage the next step for a reason.”
Hina’s gaze tunnels through her. “That can work for now.”
Mizuki quirks an eyebrow. “For now?”
“I have an idea.” She turns the laptop around to show her the screen. Mizuki immediately perks up– oh my god Hina’s on Wiki-How. “I read motivating people could ease them into their goals. If I take a more active role in encouraging you, would that decrease your anxiety?”
Mizuki has to fight to keep a straight face as she skims over How to Believe In Others: 11 Effective Tips and Tricks In Convincing That One Friend Into Doing Anything. Stunning. She thought Mafuyu using Wiki-How to learn about flirting was the last she’s seen of this website, but Hina just gave it its second reconnaissance. Time is a flat, glorious circle.
She places a hand on her chest, warmed beyond belief. “Baby, what does that even mean?”
“I don’t know.” Of course. “But if you’re working hard to propose, then I will try my best to encourage you forward.”
“You don’t have–”
“You told me for a reason.” Hina leans closer. The promise bracelet Mafuyu gave her quietly peeks from behind her mother’s scrunchie. For a second the lines solidify, and Mizuki’s looking at something so entirely Hina-chan. "If this is so important, wouldn’t you be willing to do anything?”
If she was ever younger she would’ve blindly agreed. Even now there’s a split second where she thought to say yes without a second thought– she trusts Hina and whatever confience boosting b-plot she had cooking up. Yet she can’t help but notice the way her voice snagged at the last word. Anything. At once Mizuki feels compacted with her things– her relationships, family, work. For once, there’s something stopping her from jumping off the ledge.
She knows Hina does too. Mizuki catches it whenever she loses days staring at her tapestry. The weight of personhood tends to swelter off of her like a heatwave. It used to suffocate the entire room.
A squeeze of her hand brings her back to Hina’s eyes. That hungry void. That blackened fire. For her to offer her anything… Mizuki’s eyebrows furrow. “Hina–”
The knock on the door makes both of them jump. “Mizuki, it’s 10PM! Let Hina sleep!”
Hina’s eyebrows quickly pinch together, but she dutifully pulls back and closes her laptop. Mizuki groans as she retrieves her bag.
“What? Are sleepovers not allowed anymore?” She stops Hina right before she grabs her phone. “We can totally have another sleepover.”
“Goodnight, Akiyama.” Hina presses a finger to her lips as she pauses her Composing The Future file. “Good luck.”
“Hina–!”
She disappears in a blink of an eye. Mizuki pouts at the flurry of triangles she leaves in her wake. She really would’ve liked a sleepover. What else is she supposed to do– face her partners? Ha!
Defeated on all fronts, Mizuki collapses on her bed. The ocean washes over her. She isn’t sure if it's her weakening tolerance for late nights catching up with her or whatever teenaged angst Hina infused to this two hundred yen tapestry sheet, but the waves actually move when she squints. The pixelated blues creep millimeters upon each other. Mizuki could only watch. She blinks and the entire world shifts further. Just a tad.
Another knock freezes the sea. “Mizuki!”
She jumps up, rubbing at her eyes. The mirror lying on the mattress catches her reflection– cute bedhead, bright eyes, happy. Her grin doesn’t take any effort at all. “I'm coming!”
♡
The next morning starts with Ena dropkicking her the moment she takes a knee. It’s one of the better dreams, and Mizuki takes a moment to stare at the ceiling and figure out what the hell that could mean. Then she checks her phone and has to physically stop herself from choking.
Hina had practically spammed her over the night, all her messages quite literally cheering her on. She once sent ‘I’m cheering you on.’ point blank. Mizuki quietly convulsed before Kanade threatened to wake, and then she took to not-so-quietly convulsing several rooms away.
Her terribly clipped, impossibly cute messages didn’t stop there. For a week Hina sends a message on the top of every second hour. Three days in Mizuki’s convinced it's automatic. Five days in she’s concerned for her safety. They learnt early on that doppelgangers share phone numbers, so either some other Mizuki is also being spammed with ruthless encouragement or Hina’s coming here way too much. She toned it down once Mizuki reminded her she has an entire life she should be attending to, but it never stops her from sending the most outrageous ‘Do your best!’ sparkling GIFs that nearly send her into a coma at work.
This, along with several nights of planning– Hina had reassured her she isn’t as much of a spontaneous girlie as she thought– had led Mizuki here, frantically turning Kanade’s dining room into a five-star romantic candlelight experience. Her partners will come back from the date she ushered them to any second now. Hina turns on the many electric candles lining the hallway while Mizuki tries not to gag in a cocktail dress.
It’s quite nice actually. Sure, listening to low jazz with added adlibs of stressed murmuring isn’t relaxing to anyone but her, but she takes what she can. For a long time it’s just been her crying into a bubble. Maybe, quietly, to a staff attendant. The echo gets overwhelming. Sometimes all she needs is her words to roll off and dissolve in space.
For a second she's thirteen and bedrotting in her room. There is nothing to confront here. No pain in the love of human perception, no love in the pain of knowing. Only Mizuki, alone, murmuring nonsense until the words too disintegrates. Just like she’s used to.
She sharply inhales. Yeah, that’s not a conclusive thought-process for trying not to hurl. What did her therapist say, redirect your thoughts? Mizuki can do that! Lets see, puppies exist, and she loves puppies, as well as her girlfriends, which she can turn into fiances with the rings in her bag, uh…
“It’s okay if you're not ready.”
Mizuki stops burning holes into the silk-covered countertop to smile at Hina. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Hina stares– she sure as hell doesn’t know. But the strangest thing is that Mizuki doesn’t, either.
There's movement outside the front door. It takes considerable strength to keep the smile on her face. Hina looks at her considerably, shakes her head, runs back to her room. Mizuki's gaze falls back to the elegantly-decorated table the moment she's alone– white silk adorned with flowers she just got at the local florist and golden candle holders she found in Kanade's storage. The plates are only full of anticipation. It gnaws at the emptiness of her stomach.
Oh, fuck it. Mizuki turns and calls out to the hall, “Hina-chan!”
Hina pauses in front of her door. Shadowed by the darkness of the hall, night-purple eyes find hers. Her face betrays nothing and– lord, she can’t believe she’s admitting this– but Mizuki can’t help but envy her. Hina-chan’s remarkable. Her life must be so chaotic right now, yet she immediately brushed everything aside to help Mizuki propose. She believes Mizuki can propose– her hope is so potent it revitalizes her. And sometimes she feels really bad, because Hina has a whole another world and not enough energy.
“Thank you.”
The words do nothing to express her gratitude, but she figures that’s something she’ll deal with later. Hina nods. “I’ll be watching.”
Watching? From where?! Mizuki feels a whole new wave of goosebumps ride across her skin as Hina disappears from behind her door. Oh, and she just got her anxiety in control. What the hell?
The front door opens, followed by a chorus of gasps. Mizuki closes her eyes, holding her purse strap to her chest. Her chest threatens to constrict, but she breathes deep enough to remember she's got something, even if it's just something unmonumental as air. She stomps the dread into the dirt.
Kanade beams as soon as Mizuki makes it to the entryway. The moment she slips her shoes off she's in her arms, cradling her cheeks in her hands as she presses her lips against hers.
“What's the occasion for this one?”
“Uh– it's I'm-in-love Sunday?” Kanade's face softens as if she still needs the confirmation. “Didn't you say you've gotten too tired for date nights?”
For once she doesn't mean Kanade. Mafuyu and Ena blink at her from the front door.
“My residency has grown to be time-consuming, but I do have time available." Mafuyu steals a glance beside her. “This may be the only solution for Ena.”
“That was one commission! Don't you understand what a rush order is?!” Ena stomps up the steps, only to deflate one foot in the living room. “Zuki! Ugh, why is it actually cute?”
Mizuki scoffs. “You thought I wouldn't commit?”
Erk– poor choice of words! She thins her lips as if the sentence never appeared from them, but it seems like no one noticed. Or, no one's too obsessive over marriage to realize the potential life-bonding implications of it. She wins either way.
“...No.” Ena shuffles over, arms crossed and mouth folded in the pout she always adored. “Yknow, you could've given us a heads up on how to dress. It's hard not to feel shown up when you look like that.”
Mizuki trudged through years of aggressive flirting with Ena, but those blunt compliments never failed to get her flustered. The whispered “She's right!” from Kanade does not make things better.
“You can't say that when you're the Belles of the ball!” Mafuyu strides past them– too hot for romance she guesses. “I'm only here to make your night.”
Ena's pout deepens, bobbing up and down her heels in the world's weakest attempt to not melt into a puddle. Kanade giggles as she dislodges herself from Mizuki’s arms. It only fuels the heat in her cheeks, a blaze that continues to grow until Mizuki kisses her. Then she actually melts. Her lips push into hers so hard they momentarily fuse, arms wrapping around her neck and everything, and Mizuki is oh-so reminded of how passionate Ena can be.
“You're impossible,” Ena murmurs when she parts, all anger burnt out for this wonderful sappiness. “I love you.”
Mizuki giggles like a lovesick teenager all over again. They’re leaning into each other when Mafuyu magically reappears, bottle and cork screw in hand.
“Have you learnt how to open champagne?”
Unfair! The last time she braved a bottle the cork flew into a window, and Mafuyu wasn't even there. Also, champagne? It's almost like they want her to propose!
Mizuki chuckles sheepishly, “I was hoping you would go for the wine.”
“I'm teaching you.” She holds out a hand Mizuki dutifully accepts. “Come on.”
Mizuki ends up being a great server. She pops the bottle with minimum spillage, gets great compliments (and kisses!) for her cooking, and ends up even semi-relaxing. She would've leaned into it harder if she wasn't so– and god forbid she's a little corny here– distracted.
She's so in love with her girlfriends. Head over heels. Even just talking like they always do makes her feel giddy with it, and they talk for hours. Seeing them in their elements– Ena's brash words melting into Kanade's soft giggles melting into Mafuyu's deadpan voice– it completely energizes her. She's so grateful she's one of the only people who get to fall in love with her partners’ entirely.
All of this should be conclusive to her throwing herself onto her knees and begging for their hands in marriage, but it isn't. She smiles and laughs as if the keys for their happily ever after aren't tucked in between her hands. Talk about a hypocrite.
“Im so happy we got to do this,” Ena says sometime later. The candlelight makes the drunken flush on her face look ephemeral. Mizuki feels herself fall deeper into oblivion. “We couldn’t move without making use of this dining room.”
Kanade laughs. “Yknow, it was first used for dancing.”
“Dancing?”
“Mhm. When my parents brought this house they loved this room. It had lots of room for acoustics, but my father didn’t bring any of his music gear when they first moved in. So they danced in silence for the entire night.” Kanade’s eyelashes flutter, lost in the memory. “It became such a tradition that they danced here after they got married. Every wedding they attended after, too. They would come home and dance.”
A lull of silence comes over the table, comfortable to everyone that wasn’t Akiyama Mizuki, who is internally cursing. Yoisaki-san is going to haunt me for the rest of my life if I don’t pull this off!!
Honestly, she gets it. What partner is she if she doesn’t propose after a story like that? Give it up for the Yoisakis to be so hopelessly heartwarming.
Mizuki can picture it now: She would stride to Kanade, take her hands in hers. ‘Who says the tradition has to stop?’ Lead all of them in this flawless dance that sweeps them off their feet. Kneel once their backs are turned. She pops open the box– confetti falls. Ena and Kanade are crying, and she gets a misty-eyed Mafuyu as a treat. Hina finally sends that congratulatory GIF. Yoisaki-san is clapping from the grave. Throughout heaven and Earth, she alone is the engaged one–
Ena is pulling Kanade to a stand. “Let’s try it out!”
Damn it.
She can’t even be that mad, watching Kanade navigate handling a very tipsy Ena is adorable. She eventually settles on cupping the sides of her waist and pulling her closer. Ena cackles as they begin to lamely sway from side to side.
“We haven't danced like this before,” Kanade admits, peering up with soft, crinkled eyes. “Do you know how to waltz?”
“It shouldn’t be that hard,” Ena shrugs. She pulls Kanade closer. “Hold onto me.”
Kanade nods into her shoulder. Together, they dance in a cute circle. Mizuki can’t contain her smile. Seeing the people she loves so utterly in love– it's a high she can’t get down from. She could only hope that these slow moments can ebb into forever.
“Is that all you can do?” Mafuyu calls from the table. Ena snorts.
“Think you can do better, tough guy?”
“Maybe. Mother put me in ballet classes before wanting me to become a doctor.” Pause. Ena and Kanade break from their embrace to look at her. Mizuki has to give a side eye herself.
“I’m joking.”
“Don’t kid about that! I was almost convinced you were perfect."
“You don’t seem too bothered,” Kanade holds out a hand to Mafuyu. Mafuyu takes no time at all to part from the table and take it.
“Watch out for your toes!” Ena warns, taking refuge against a nearby wall. Kanade laughs affectionately.
There’s a reason why Mafuyu is often right. She doesn’t step on Kanade’s toes– she doesn't even let Kanade stumble on her own. They twirl alongside another like music box dancers. Mizuki falls deeper as she watches them, falls deeper into the moment. This would be a very nice first dance, wouldn’t it?
She scoffs. Yeah, it would be a nice first dance for the wedding she could have if she just asks them. Come on! The two are dancing, and Ena’s similarly distracted if her goo-goo eyes are anything to go by. There’s nothing stopping her from getting down on a knee and popping the question. It would be perfect!
Mafuyu pulls Kanade into a dip, and the hearty laugh she belts out is just delightful. Mizuki sighs through her nose. It would be really perfect, wouldn’t it?
Dipping Kanade had the adverse effect of breaking her. She becomes a mess of stilted giggles once Mafuyu pulls her up, whispering in her ear. Whatever she says has her squirming in delight.
“I did. You–” She snorts. “You’re a great dance partner, Mafuyu.”
Ena fans away the pink from her face. “I’ll give it a six out of ten.”
“Jealous?” Mafuyu gently pulls away from Kanade, still recovering from Asahina-Mafuyu-dipped-me-onto-the-fucking-floor syndrome. Symptoms include dizziness, downbadness, and Mizuki’s undying support.
“You wish.” Ena slots herself against Mafuyu’s chest like she has a death wish. “You definitely step on toes.”
Mafuyu kicks the top of her feet. Ena stomps her with the ends of her heels. They dance.
The opportunity opens again. Mizuki could take the knee and get it over with in less than three seconds. She could honestly shout the words aloud– ‘This is fun and all, but you really should marry me.’ They’ll probably say yes.
That’s the thing– they will always say yes.
“Mizuki.”
She blinks. Kanade is in front of her. She takes her hand from it's death grip on her dress, smoothing out the tension in her fingers.
“Will you dance with me?”
Mizuki’s breath catches. She hopes Kanade thinks its because of how endeared she is, and not everything else in her life fucking up. Out of everything, Kanade has always been a respite.
But enough of that sappiness. Kanade asked her a question. It’ll be rude to keep her waiting.
Quietly, Mizuki lifts the two-ton bag off her lap and drapes it onto the back of her chair. The edges of her eyes sting when she smiles. “Of course.”
Kanade guides her off the chair and onto the living room turned dance floor. They huddle close to each other, giggling when they bump into the others and whisper inside jokes in each other’s hair. Bathed in this warm candlelight, Mizuki finds there's no other place she’d rather be. She can get drunk on champagne and slow dance in Kanade’s home forever.
She scoffs. But marriage isn’t forever. It’s just a fabrication of one.
That’s… oddly edgy for being twenty-two in a long-term relationship. But it sticks. Throughout the night it seeps into her like blood.
“Zuki?”
She plants a kiss on the crown of Kanade’s head. Kanade cranes her head upwards.
“Are you okay?” Her gaze is so tender it hurts, wide and crystal blue– the color of heaven. “You’ve been quiet since dinner ended.”
Another point for the Akiyama Cycle. She just gives her a larger smile.
“I’m fine. Just had a long day.” Mizuki presses her forehead against Kanade’s. “I’m happy I’m ending it with you.”
“I’m happy too,” she hums. “Remember, you can tell us anything. Anytime.”
An uneasy laugh rumbles deep in Mizuki’s chest. “Do you think I have something to hide?”
“I wouldn’t mind if you did.” She pulls away to look at her, forever earnest. “You looked like you needed a reminder.”
Right. No matter how long it takes for her to tell them they will be here. No matter how she tells them they will be here. No matter how the future will tear them apart– because it will, eventually– they will be here, fumbling through her thoughts and dreams, and at the very least directing the trajectory of her atoms. Mizuki has long learned she can’t run away from them. There’s no reason to be restless, but she can't help the familiar rush of anxiety drum against her bones.
Marriage is a hope. Forever is a dream. What Mizuki wants is something she can’t fuck up. For Kanade to keep smiling like this– it costs nothing but time.
“I think I did.” Mizuki pecks at her cheek, drinking up the way Kanade preens. “Thanks, babe.”
It’s not until the end of the dance that she realized her mouth had been bleeding. The undertones of power keep her going.
♡
That night, her partners tie her to a chair and burn her alive as an offering to Yoisaki-san. In giving the body of a romantic coward, Yoisaki grants the three prosperity, honesty, and some really sick dance moves.
Amongst the festivities she spots Hina staring from the hallway. Night-purple eyes track the fire dancing up her body. Mizuki goes to say something, but nothing comes out. Everything disappears the moment her vision goes white.