Archive of Our Own

To Mizuki, Ena is a contradiction – she’s simultaneously everything she shouldn’t want, yet longs for all the same. Ena is danger, but also the only person Mizuki ever feels safe with. Ena is a seductive temptress sent to Earth to corrupt her and ruin her beyond repair. Ena is her guardian angel, sent to Earth to guide her and protect her. Ena is heated kisses against a wall in some dirty alley and sweet caresses in the dark. Ena is Mary Magdalene and the Virgin Mary. A sinner and a saint.

Ena is eternal damnation.

Ena is salvation.

They met only three months ago, on Mizuki’s eighteenth birthday.

Her parents were working late, and promised her they’d celebrate this “milestone” the following day. Mizuki didn’t care – this was going to be her last birthday, anyway. She was determined on it. And celebrating with her parents only meant a stiff three-piece suit and a tie that might as well have been her rope. She wasn’t looking forward to tomorrow.

But her parents were going to be out exceptionally late, and Mizuki was feeling daring. That was why, after pacing her room for forty minutes straight, she ran into her sister’s old bedroom. Yuuki lived in Paris now, and wasn’t even allowed to contact Mizuki anymore – their parents got Mizuki a new number and strictly monitored her phone to ensure Yuuki wasn’t putting “weird ideas” in her head again. But Yuuki had left Mizuki a treasure, appropriately locked away in a box securely hidden at the back of her empty closet. With her heart racing and anxiety gripping her stomach, Mizuki unlocked the chest as she had done only a handful of times in the four years since Yuuki’s departure.

She lifted the lid, and her eyes filled with tears at the sight of all the garments that Yuuki had managed to save from their parents’ destructive rage, all those years ago. Beautiful dresses, frilly shirts and skirts of all colors, along with shoes to match, cute ribbons, and all kinds of make-up. Mizuki picked her favorite outfit – a white and blue lolita dress – and carefully folded it. She placed it in a backpack along with some of the make-up, a cute bag, and a hairbrush. She locked the chest, once again pushing it in the shadows, where it would never be found, and took a deep breath.

She ran out of the house without looking back, feeling free and exhilarated and terrified beyond belief. She got on the first train to Ikebukuro and was left panting, hands braced on her knees, on the empty train. As she watched the city pass by through the window, she had a sudden feeling that today was going to be a rebirth, of sorts. But that was a stupid thought, and Mizuki laughed bitterly at her hideous reflection.

Once in Ikebukuro, Mizuki booked in a manga cafe and sealed herself in one of the pods. She got out of her house clothes and slipped into her dress. It felt like she thought it might feel to finally come home after a long day, if home was a place where she felt loved.

Her hair was shorter than she would have liked, but luckily not too short that she couldn’t style it to look more feminine. While she had only ever applied make-up to herself a handful of times, she had watched enough tutorials online to know what she was doing, and while the final result wasn’t perfect, she was still left gazing at herself in the small mirror with her heart in throat. She cried a bit, and had to touch up her eyes again as she laughed at herself.

She was happy.

Or, as happy as someone like her could be.

She put her backpack in a locker she found just outside the manga cafe, and after securing her grip on her bag and taking a deep breath, she started walking towards the entertainment district. It’s not like she was going to run into anyone she knew there, and she had heard people were a bit more carefree, in that area. So, despite some anxiety, she still forced herself to put one foot in front of the other, and walk.

At first, she felt like everyone was staring right at her, and their gazes felt like they could see under her clothes, to uncover her unsightly self and punish her for daring to think she could walk around dressed like that. But, the more she walked, the more Mizuki realized no one was actually staring, and a couple of girls even stopped her to gush at her dress and ask her where she got it from. Mizuki was careful in how she spoke – terrified of her voice giving her away, but the girls just kept on smiling and thanked her as they left. It was much easier, after that.

Mizuki found that, when dressed like this, she felt bolder and more extroverted than usual. At school, she would typically hide herself away, shrinking in a corner, blending in the background. Withering away. But now, she was blooming – she felt light and bright and right, and all she wanted was to smile at people and engage in fun conversations.

When it started getting dark, Mizuki knew she should have left. Despite knowing it, she watched herself as though from outside her own body take up her phone and text her parents in the family groupchat, “A friend from school threw me a surprise party. I’ll be here until later in the evening.”

What was she thinking? Her parents were going to find out. Mizuki was about to delete her text, and her heart sank in horror when she saw both her parents had already seen it.

From: Mom

That sounds wonderful! I am glad you won’t be alone on your special day. Sorry again. Have fun!

From: Dad

Have fun, son. You’re only young once!

Mizuki’s insides twisted, bile rose to her mouth. She wasn’t supposed to lie. And she couldn’t even confess to this sin on Monday – the priest taking confessions that day was her homeroom teacher, and while he would be bound by secrecy, Mizuki would rather die on the spot than tell him about what she was doing right now. She would just repent on her own tonight before going to bed. Maybe she would even give up fries for the entire week in penance. Yeah.

It was just one night. One night of freedom, in her last year of life. She knew suicide was also a sin, but she also knew God would forgive her – he had given her a cross too large for her to bear, after all. And Mizuki wasn’t that strong.

And just as she stared at her phone in contrition, the word “son” boring a hole in her heart, obfuscating her vision, a guy bumped into her, causing her to drop her phone.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he apologized, bending to pick up Mizuki’s phone. He handed it back to her with a charming smile, and she accepted with timid hands. There was something off about him. Mizuki knew he had bumped into her on purpose, despite the fact that he was acting very nice and apologetic right now.

“Hey, you’re quite cute, did you know? Wanna have some fun with me?”

Mizuki’s heart picked up its pace, and her throat closed off. She couldn’t speak if she tried.

“Aww, you don’t have to look that scared. I just wanna hang out. What do you say?”

He flung his arm around her shoulder and Mizuki froze, sick to her stomach and so scared, her legs started shaking. Embarrassingly, she started crying, looking at her own shoes. She had no idea of how to get out of this situation.

The guy’s arm was suddenly yanked off of her shoulder, and Mizuki watched as he staggered forwards.

“Piss off. She’s not interested,” a girl’s voice growled from right in front of Mizuki. All she could see was the girl’s back – she seemed to be dressed in jirai fashion.

“Who the fuck- oh, it’s you. Whore,” the guy spat on the ground, and Mizuki watched as the girl kicked him right in the crotch. He fell to his knees, and the girl grabbed her wrist.

“Come with me,” she said, dragging Mizuki away. They ran through all kinds of alleys and dark corners, and Mizuki realized this girl knew this district like the back of her hand.

She finally stopped in an isolated alley, away from the crowd, and leaned against a wall, exhausted.

“A-are you dumb? What the fuck were you doing in that street at that time?” She snapped, glaring at Mizuki while breathing heavy.

Mizuki looked at her. She might be the most beautiful girl Mizuki had ever seen. Her mouth dried up.

“I-I don’t know. It’s my first time here.”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Obviously.”

They were quiet for a few seconds, as the girl got her breathing back to normal. Mizuki had already recovered from their brief run, and she found that, unlike the beautiful brunette in front of her, the more they stayed quiet, the faster Mizuki’s heart beat, and the more erratic her breathing grew.

“Well, not even a thank you? Tsk. That’s what I get for looking out for kids. Are you even eighteen?” The girl finally snapped, crossing her arms.

Mizuki nodded. “From today.”

The girl frowned at her, lifting herself off the wall.

“And you’re spending your eighteenth birthday… wandering around the red light district at night for the first time?”

Mizuki blushed and looked away.

“Ugh, you’re going to be a piece of work, aren’t you? Alright, come with me.”

The girl grabbed Mizuki’s wrist again and dragged her towards the entrance of a small pub at the end of the alley.

“Your make-up is a mess. I’ll fix it up and you can talk to me while I do, okay?”

Mizuki was speechless, so she simply followed. However, once inside, the girl led her towards the girls’ bathroom, and Mizuki froze in her spot, right in front of the door. The girl shot her an equally annoyed and confused look, tilting her head.

“Got a problem?”

She had to tell her. She had to.

“I’m- I’m not… I’m trans.” Saying the words out loud for the first time in her life made Mizuki feel so scared, she thought she was going to faint. She felt dizzy.

The girl’s frown deepened. “So? Want a medal? Come.”

She tugged on her wrist and entered the bathroom.

“Are you sure it’s okay for someone like me-”

“It’s the girls’ bathroom so yeah, I’m sure. You idiot. Stay here.”

The girl hoisted herself onto the sink, and once she was sitting on the marble counter, she grabbed Mizuki by the soulders and pulled her close, even wrapping her legs around her waist. Mizuki knew she was probably blushing more than ever in her life. She had met this girl not even fifteen minutes ago and yet she knew she was already crushing on her. Hard. She felt so flustered, she thought she might die.

“Alright, let’s fix you up… And talk, if you want. I’ll listen. Oh, name’s Ena, by the way.”

“I’m Mizuki,” she replied, looking anywhere but Ena’s pretty face as the girl dug around her own bag, from which she produced a small pack of make-up remover wipes and some make-up. She grabbed Mizuki’s chin with one hand, redirecting her gaze towards her. Mizuki couldn’t breathe.

“Well, nice to meet you, Mizuki. Now, be a good girl and tell me a bit about yourself…”

And Mizuki actually did. As Ena patiently worked on her face, her soft hands gently guiding Mizuki’s head, causing Mizuki to stumble over her words, Mizuki told her everything. About her traditional, Catholic family. About Catholic school and the horrible boys there. She mentioned a few of them, by name, and the torments they had subjected her to. She told Ena about her sister, and how, when their parents caught Mizuki wearing her clothes, Yuuki had lied and said it had been her idea. About how Mizuki cried in her arms all night the day before Yuuki left, and how she had wanted to disappear. About how tomorrow she’d have to be in a three-piece suit and tie, and how she just wanted to be herself one last time, before she finally disappeared, for she was tired.

Ena listened without ever interrupting her, but her expressions spoke volumes, to Mizuki – she was an open book. She would scoff and look appalled and angry and at some point, she even spat out a furious little “bastards” directed at Mizuki’s parents.

Once Mizuki was done talking, Ena said nothing. She looked sad, though, and pensive. Mizuki realized she was thinking of what to say, so she stayed quiet. Ena finished applying her make-up, and silently put everything back in her bag. Then, she cupped Mizuki’s face in her cold hands.

“You can’t disappear. I know what that feels like, I have been there. I know people who have been there. It’s… I’m not going to lie to you, it sucks. But the world is a better place when people like you outnumber people like them. Don’t let them win.”

Ena’s thumbs were stroking the sensitive skin of Mizuki’s cheekbones – no one had ever touched her like that, and her heart was going to beat out of her chest. Ena’s words touched somewhere deep inside her, and her vision grew hazy.

“Ah, don’t you dare cry! I just finished fixing you up!”

Mizuki laughed a bit at Ena’s words, and saw a small smile tug at Ena’s lips before her hands left Mizuki’s face. Her skin felt bereft. She wanted Ena’s hands back.

Ena jumped off the sink, and finally Mizuki could look at herself in the mirror. Her heart grew ten times in size.

“Did a good job, didn’t I?” Ena said smugly from next to her.

“Y-you made me look so pretty… How…” Mizuki was going to cry again. But she couldn’t ruin Ena’s handiwork.

“Well, I am quite brilliant at it, yeah, but I was working with a good base. You’re quite beautiful,” Ena replied easily, before she stretched her arms behind her back.

Mizuki was going to fall in love. Pathetic.

“So, you told your parents you’re staying at a friend’s place?” Ena suddenly asked, and Mizuki looked at her in the mirror’s reflection.

“Yeah- what are you planning?”

Ena grinned mischievously. “Oh, you a quick one, aren’t you? Well, give me your phone and find out.”

Mizuki hesitated.

“Come on, take a risk. Trust me.”

Mizuki stared at Ena’s outstretched hand, and was hit by the sudden realization that she was at a crossroad. She could refuse, run back to the locker, get changed, and go back home, where she would wait to wilt away. Or, she could hand Ena her phone and see if she would change her life.

When the phone touched Ena’s palm, Ena’s grin grew wider.

“Passcode?”

Mizuki quickly tapped it in, and Ena went straight to her contacts.

“Your surname?”

“Akiyama- wait, why-”

Ena scrolled down her contacts and pressed to call her mom.

“Ena!” Mizuki exclaimed, desperately reaching for her phone, but Ena turned around, holding Mizuki at arm’s length.

“Oh, Akiyama-san? Good evening.”

Mizuki swallowed thickly. Ena was speaking in a weird voice that made her sound more mature. What was she playing at? Mizuki was going to have a panic attack.

“I’m Takeuchi Kotarou’s mom- yes, he’s in Mizuki’s class. He organized such a wonderful surprise party for Mizuki, and now all the boys want to sleep over and I was wondering- oh, you want to talk to Mizuki? Of course.”

Ena handed the phone back to Mizuki with a wink. Mizuki tried to get a hold of her racing heart.

“Hi mom.”

“Darling. I thought Takeuchi-kun was one of the boys who used to bother you last year?”

’Bother’ was an understatement. A sanitized way to describe the torture that Mizuki’s life was at school and which conveniently ignored the root cause of her ridicule. 

“W-we’re on better terms, now. It’s all water under the bridge.”

Lying came more easily to Mizuki than she thought. She was going to have to give up fries forever.

“Oh, I’m so happy to hear! Well, if you’re sure it’s all fine, of course you can stay there! Have tons of fun okay? But not too much, you boys behave, okay?”

Mizuki was now glad she was lying, and she wasn’t going home.

“Yeah.”

“Give me Takeuchi-san again, I’ll thank her for her hospitality.”

“S-sure.”

Mizuki watched in a daze as Ena pretended to be her horrible classmate’s mom. Everything felt utterly surreal. Ena finally ended the call, and Mizuki put her phone away as though having an out of body experience.

“Well, you only turn eighteen once, so let’s have fun, hmm?” Ena said with a smile.

Mizuki was so out of it, she forgot to look at where Ena was taking her. So, when she found herself in foyer of a love hotel as Ena booked them a room, she startled out of the blue.

“Oh, calm down. Don’t make a scene.”

Ena got their key from the self-service machine, and took Mizuki by the hand, confidently guiding her.

“You’ve been here before,” Mizuki whispered out loud as soon as she realized.

“I come here all the time, yeah. The rooms all have a different theme so they make for a good setting.”

“For what?”

Ena shrugged. “I know you think I’m going to say ‘sex’ but no, actually. For pictures.”

“W-what kind of pictures-”

“You ask too many questions,” Ena dismissed her, tapping the key on the lock of one of the doors. It beeped as it unlocked, and once she stepped in, Mizuki felt like she entered a whole new world.

“This is my favorite room,” Ena sighed happily, throwing herself on the pink bed.

The whole room was meant to look like it was in the middle of a cherry blossom viewing event. There were cherry trees in bloom on every wall, and everything was pink and lovely. There were even fake cherry blossom petals scattered everywhere, and the lighting had a pink shade.

“We can sleep here tonight. Let’s order all kinds of foods you like- oh, and cake! We can celebrate your birthday like that. Forget about your family for tonight.”

The events of the day finally caught up to Mizuki, and she fell to her knees.

“Are you okay?” Ena asked, slightly panicked, as she crouched next to her.

“I think you just saved my life,” was all Mizuki could reply. Ena hugged her without saying anything.

That was three months ago. That night, they really did have a lot of fun – they sang karaoke, ordered all kinds of junk food, danced till they were breathless, told each other funny stories and got to know one another better. They eventually fell asleep when it was already dawn.

In the morning, they exchanged contacts (Ena saved herself in Mizuki’s phone as “Takeuchi-kun” with a sly smile and a wink that made Mizuki blush to the tips of her ears) and started meeting up almost every day. Mizuki told her parents she and Takeuchi had really hit it off, and they believed her. Mizuki found out Ena was only a year older than her, and already lived alone, with two roommates. Ena rarely talked about herself, and Mizuki didn’t ask.

Together, they went on all kinds of little adventures. Mizuki was different, around Ena – whereas at school she was quiet and invisible, she felt like she was shining, with Ena. She would tease her, and Ena would stomp her foot and puff her cheeks and Mizuki’s crush would get worse and worse. Ena took her shopping, and kept the clothes they bought together at her place, safe from Mizuki’s parents. Ena taught Mizuki more tips and tricks about make-up, and took her to an underwear store to buy her first bra. They mostly hung out at the usual love hotel, because Ena always complained about her place being too small and already cramped with her two roommates. In the various rooms, they chatted, they sang, they did each other’s make up, they held little fashion shows, and stuffed themselves with cheap fast-food. In those rooms, Mizuki helped Ena out with her job – getting paid online to take risqué pictures of herself.

When Ena first asked her, Mizuki had just stared at her with the camera in her hands.

“Isn’t that…” Prostitution, Mizuki wanted to say. But if there was something Mizuki had already discovered about Ena, it was that she had a quick fuse, and didn’t take well to anyone looking down on her or judging her choices. Even though Mizuki wouldn’t mean it in a bad way, Ena would interpret it as such.

“What?” Ena snapped, narrowing her eyes.

“I thought you didn’t like men.”

That was a fact. Ena had told her so that very first night. About how she hated men, and how she had taken girls to that same love hotel, and not to innocently hang out and eat cake like she was with Mizuki.

“Well, I already had a relatively successful selfie account in high school and I’m good at it so like… Now I’m just getting paid for it. What’s the difference? And it’s not like those men can actually touch me. I don’t even see them. They don’t exist, to me.”

Ena sounded sad all of a sudden, but quickly sobered up when she noticed Mizuki was staring.

“Well, are you gonna help me take some pics today or will that make you too much of a bad girl?”

Mizuki smiled shyly at her own shoes.

“I’m always a bad girl when I hang out with you.”

When she looked up, she was surprised to see Ena was blushing, a bit.

It went on like that for about two months, the happiest months of Mizuki’s life. Then, a month ago, their relationship changed drastically.

They had a fight. A rare occurrence, but Mizuki couldn’t just stay quiet any longer.

“I’m not taking a picture of you like… that.”

“Mizuki. I have rent due. Kanade just got herself fired and we can’t survive off Mafuyu only. Do you know much this imbecile is willing to pay me-”

“You don’t take pictures like that. All your pics they’re… Yes, they’re not exactly chaste but there’s some artistry in them. I can see how much you care about lighting, and composition, and this isn’t-”

“There’s no art in my stupid pictures. They’re just…” When Mizuki looked up, she saw that Ena’s pretty face had paled. She looked stunned, and furious. But mostly, she looked utterly heartbroken, for some reason. “What the fuck are you even- Get out. I don’t need you for this. GET OUT!”

Ena started pushing Mizuki towards the door as she yanked her camera back. Mizuki braced herself against the door. She refused to leave. She was terrified of losing Ena – but above all, she was terrified of leaving Ena alone right now.

“No. You’re not taking those pics. I’ll pay you myself.”

“I said get out!”

Ena sounded desperate – Mizuki could tell from her voice only that she was about to cry. She was pushing Mizuki with all her strength, to the point she was hurting her. But Mizuki didn’t budge. She was too scared.

“No. No, Ena, you… You always let me talk about myself, but you never do. Talk to me! I clearly hit a nerve so please tell me… I can’t lose you, please, just tell me how I hurt you so I can never do it again, please, please…”

Ena’s fingernails dug painfully into Mizuki’s back and Mizuki hissed in pain. Ena let go.

“You… You have no idea…”

An opening. Mizuki turned around, falling to her knees, just like that first night. She took hold of Ena’s calves with her hands, and lowered her forehead onto Ena’s feet.

She’d pray to her.

“Please. Forgive me. Forgive me. Do not forsake me.”

Ena freed herself from Mizuki’s hold.

“Tell me something,” Ena said as she crouched to the ground, and Mizuki looked up. “Do all Catholics speak like they’re in a period drama or are you special?”

Mizuki couldn’t laugh. She was too relieved, yet still scared.

“Please just… It’s time you tell me more about yourself. I don’t want to lose you. And I want to know.”

“You… You’re gonna be the end of me.”

Mizuki frowned at Ena’s words, but suddenly Ena’s face was so close to hers that all of Mizuki’s questions died on her tongue. She found that her head felt very light. Her stomach dropped, and all she could hear was the sound of her own heart as it attempted to break her ribcage from the inside. Ena’s lips ghosted over hers, and Mizuki’s whole body caught on fire.

“Mizuki,” Ena whispered, in a voice so low and soft and intimate that it sent a violent shiver down Mizuki’s back, “I really want to kiss you. Can I?”

Mizuki should have probably run. Had Mizuki been the good Catholic schoolboy her parents believed her to be, she would have never even found herself in a love hotel with someone like Ena. But Mizuki wasn’t who her parents thought she was.

And in only two months since meeting Ena, Mizuki had fallen in love.

So, she nodded.

The feeling of Ena’s lips on hers was earth-shattering. Mizuki knew she could never go back. Like Eve tasting the forbidden fruit in Eden, Mizuki was committing the original sin – discovering a forbidden knowledge she wasn’t meant to ever unveil, and she would be cast into the abyss.

But, as Ena pried her lips open and deepened the kiss, Mizuki thought maybe eternal damnation didn’t sound so bad. After all, if Ena was there, she knew she could make even the depths of Hell feel pleasurable.

Ena was already stripped down to her lingerie, and made quick work of Mizuki’s dress. She dragged Mizuki to the bed and devoured her. Mizuki was fine with it, even though she had no idea of how to reciprocate. Ena didn’t seem to mind.

“I have wanted you since that first night,” Ena whispered afterwards, as she spooned a naked and trembling Mizuki under the covers.

“Me too,” Mizuki confessed in the dark.

“I want you to be mine,” Ena murmured, burrowing her forehead against Mizuki’s shoulder as she tightened her hold. Mizuki held her breath.

“You’re so… I have never met anyone like you. And you make me feel like… I feel like I’m real when I’m with you. I have fun with you. And you make me want to- I painted you, you know? I painted you over and over. I hadn’t touched my painting materials in years. You did that. You don’t know how much that means, how big- I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you everything. But before that please, I want you to be mine.”

Ena’s voice was shaky, and it made Mizuki’s eyes sting with unshed tears. Her throat ached, for some reason.

“I already am.”

That was how Mizuki found out about Ena’s love for painting. About her father’s words in middle school, and how they broke her. About her miserable days in evening classes in high school, adrift and alone. About how her only comfort was her selfie account, and how she started selling pictures of herself as soon as she turned eighteen. How she spent her whole last year of high school selling and saving, so that she could move out as soon as she graduated. About how she answered an ad she saw online, and met Kanade and Mafuyu. Ena told Mizuki about Kanade, an aspiring musician whose parents had died, leaving her with no money. She also told Mizuki about her other roommate and Kanade’s girlfriend, Mafuyu, who had run away from home at only seventeen and had been living with Kanade ever since. Ena told her about how the three of them, broken beyond repair, had saved one another. They were the ones Ena talked about that very first night she met Mizuki, when she told her that she knew people who also had wanted to disappeared. She told her about drinking with girls she had never met before, and taking them to the love hotel to feel some human warmth. To feel wanted. 

Ena told Mizuki about her painting supplies, hidden underneath her bed – out of sight but never out of mind. She told her she had held a brush in her hand for the first time in years the day she met Mizuki, and that she had been painting her ever since.

Mizuki asked Ena to show her, one day. Ena replied her art was no good, that she had no talent, and that all she painted was probably worthless. Mizuki couldn’t take it, and hugged Ena to silence her.

Dating Ena was… exhilarating, in ways Mizuki couldn’t even put into words. They would meet up almost every day, and Ena would shamelessly shove Mizuki against whichever wall was closest as she dragged her to the usual love hotel. She would kiss her against those filthy walls until Mizuki’s knees almost gave out, at which point she’d smile smugly and tug Mizuki a few steps closer to their destination, just to push Mizuki against another wall as soon as they turned the corner. Mizuki had never been happier. Every day was so full of joy, her chest felt like it would explode.

One day, Ena snuck white wine into the love hotel.

“We’re not supposed to drink!” Mizuki hissed, staring at the bottle in Ena’s hands with wide eyes.

“Oh, don’t be boring,” Ena complained as she rolled her eyes, “We’re so close to drinking age, what’s the big deal? I heard in Europe you can drink at eighteen.”

“But we’re not in Europe!”

Ena shrugged as she popped the bottle.

“You said you were interested in trying alcohol, the other day, I thought you’d be happy.”

“Well, I… I am interested but it’s not something I’m supposed to do. It’s like… frowned upon at least!”

“Don’t you guys like, drink wine at mass or something? That’s why I picked wine, by the way. I usually get something stronger and cheaper.”

“What-”

“A story for another time. Now we drink. Be a good girl and get me glasses, hmm? Chop chop.”

Mizuki did as told, despite a weird guilty feeling lingering in her chest. She was doing something that not only her parents and the priests at her school would have definitely disapproved of, but that was actually against the law. Oh, she was starting to feel sick.

She joined Ena on the bed and handed her one of the glasses.

“Please stop looking so guilty and enjoy life a bit more, I swear it won’t kill you,” Ena muttered under her breath as she poured some wine in the first glass. Mizuki took it back in her trembling hand and handed the empty glass to Ena.

Once her glass was also filled, Ena slammed the bottle on one of the bedside tables.

“Now, kanpai!” She said happily, and chugged the whole things. “Ugh, this is basically vinegar. That’s what you get when you’re broke I guess…”

Mizuki stared. She couldn’t do it. It was wrong.

Ena sighed, and placed her empty glass on the bedside table, next to the bottle. She shuffled closer to Mizuki, and cupped her neck, her other hand wrapping around Mizuki’s on the glass.

“Here… What is it you guys say… Ah, yes. This is my blood, and blah blah blah. Here, drink.” She guided Mizuki’s hand until the glass touched her bottom lip, and tipped it.

It felt so wrong. Yet, as Mizuki parted her lips to allow the liquid to invade her mouth and flow down her throat, she couldn’t help but not care, not one bit.

Being drunk was fun, Mizuki found. The sex was certainly nothing short of thrilling, intoxicating. But the severe headaches that would follow and the stomach aches made it so that Mizuki established a “drinking allowed only once week” rule, which Ena resented but dutifully abided by.

It was when drunk, that first time, that Ena first drew something in front of Mizuki. She drew funny, obscene little sketches on various napkins that had Mizuki in stitches. When they said goodbye, that day, Mizuki begged Ena to draw more for her. And that was how it began.

Soon, Ena started carrying some art supplies with her, and would paint Mizuki in different rooms of the love hotel. Her paintings always depicted Mizuki differently, using the various settings as inspirations – once Mizuki was a bride, smiling brightly under a shower of cherry blossoms, her hair short just like in real life, yet still feminine. In another painting she was a fairy, ethereal and mysterious, sneakily tasting a forbidden fruit. In yet another she was a lone hermit in the snow, and in another she was some kind of art thief. She was all kinds of people, and it seemed like she had lived all those lives: a runaway kid offering someone an umbrella, a doll dressed in the same lolita-style dress she was wearing when she first met Ena, a teasing catgirl, a drowning figure. Ena’s art was beautiful, breathtaking, and it moved Mizuki in a way she had never been moved before – she wanted Ena to paint more, paint forever.

One afternoon, Mizuki looked at one of Ena’s paintings in her hands, holding it high above their heads as the lay on the bed of the royal-themed room. In this painting, Mizuki was a bored maid. There was something so special about Ena’s art. Her lines weren’t perfect, and her composition felt… unique, even though Mizuki knew nothing about art. Her use of color was also different, mystical, almost magical.

“You’re amazing,” Mizuki whispered, and Ena softly gasped at her side. She hid her face in Mizuki’s shoulder, and said nothing.

“You’re… You’re so talented. I can tell you worked so hard to hone your skills. I love your art. You need to paint more. But not just me – I want you to paint all kinds of things. And always go back to paint me in the end.”

Ena quietly grabbed her own painting, prying it away from Mizuki’s fingers.

“You can’t just say…” Her words fizzled out, and Mizuki waited patiently as Ena’s shaky hands dropped the painting on one of the bedside tables.

“You can’t just say things like that,” Ena finally finished her sentence, turning to her side. Mizuki mirrored her, the two of them lying face to face, their hands tucked under their cheek.

“Why?”

“Because I might believe you.”

“What’s so bad about it? I mean it.”

“I’ll only get hurt.”

“Doesn’t it hurt anyway? Not making art. If it hurts anyway, you might as well try.”

Ena’s expression was indescribable.

“Why are you so kind to me?”

Mizuki frowned, confused.

“Because I love you,” she replied, as though it was obvious. Which it was, to her. But clearly not to Ena.

Ena sucked in a trembling breath. “But… I’m bad. I drink. I have hit people. I slept around with girls just because I felt lonely and unlovable and they were there. I ruin everything I touch. I’m a whore. Men pay me to gawk at me like…” Ena closed her eyes. “Mizuki. I’m no good. I’m damaged goods. I’m a bad influence on you. I’m-”

Mizuki shook her head. “You saved me.”

“I corrupted you.”

In many ways, it was true. Yet, Mizuki couldn’t bring herself to view it as a bad thing. Ena was yes, a corrupting force, but also her salvation. Ena was so pure, ethereal – to Mizuki, Ena was godlike. All-encompassing. And Mizuki was definitely not worthy of a god.

“What if it’s me… corrupting you instead?”

Ena opened her eyes. “Huh?”

“I don’t deserve you. I have nothing. I spent so much of my life hiding that I don’t even know who I am... I don’t understand what you see in me. I’m empty. I’m nothing. And you’re so bright. You have so much, you are so much, and I don’t know why you would ever be with someone like me.”

Ena smiled. Her expression was bittersweet. “Because I love you,” she whispered, mirroring Mizuki’s earlier words.

Ah, maybe it really was that simple.

And now, three months since meeting Ena and exactly thirty-four days since they got together, here Mizuki is, dripping wet under the pouring rain, an angry bruise on her face, and all her few belongings in a backpack. She has never been to Ena’s house, but Ena had given her the address for emergencies.

And this is one.

The door opens, and Ena freezes.

“Fuck,” she whispers, pulling Mizuki into a desperate hug. Mizuki collapses into her arms, and Ena stumbles under her weight. They fall to their knees in Ena’s ridiculously small genkan. Shoes and slippers dig into Mizuki’s knees. She couldn’t care less.

“T-they found out about… They know I haven’t been hanging out with Takeuchi. They confronted me. I thought- I thought maybe, now that I’m older, maybe they’d understand and not think like I’m being swayed by someone else or that I’m just confused but that only made things worse. M-mom cried. My dad…” The pain of the punch is still stinging too much, and Mizuki cannot speak anymore.

“Did he do this to you?” Ena asks coldly, cradling Mizuki’s face in her hands, her thumb ghosting over Mizuki’s swollen cheekbone.

Mizuki nods slightly, and Ena’s eyes shine with unabashed hatred.

“If I ever meet him, I’ll kill him,” she vows, her voice as cold as steel.

Mizuki is too tired to explain. Too tired to tell Ena about her dad taking her out for ice cream when she was younger. About how he makes the best pop corns, and always gives most of them to Mizuki on movie nights. About his proud smile and his kind words of encouragement. But that wasn’t Mizuki’s father, not really. Because Mizuki wasn’t his son, and he wouldn’t take Mizuki as his daughter.

“They said I’m not their child anymore, that I’m eighteen and to leave until- They think I’ll just change my mind, and will go crawling back to them, they think this is-”

Mizuki is hyperventilating, and Ena’s hold grows tighter on her.

“You can stay here. This is your home now. Shh, I got you. You’re safe.”

Mizuki doesn’t know how long she was there, on the uncomfortable floor, cold and wet and miserable as she cried her heart out in Ena’s arm. But once she has no more tears left in her and her head is pounding, Ena helps her get up.

“My roommates are home – they’ve been dying to meet you, actually. But let’s get you cleaned up and dry first, hmm?”

They take a bath together, and Mizuki quietly weeps in the bath water as Ena gently washes her and holds her close. Ena helps her get into an oversized t-shirt (“It’s Mafuyu’s, I’m sure she won’t mind lending it to you”) and a pair of shorts.

Before exiting the bathroom, Ena hesitates.

“I know you’re not in the best headspace to meet new people right now but… I’m sorry, we only have two beds and sleep in the same room so…”

“That’s okay,” Mizuki murmurs.

As long as Ena is there, everything will be fine.

The apartment is so tiny, though. Is it really okay for Mizuki to stay? She didn’t know that a house so small could exist, let alone house three people. Mizuki understands, now, why Ena never brought her over to her place – it would be impossible to have any kind of privacy, here. The genkan leads directly into a kitchen slash corridor, which leads straight into the bedroom, no door. At least they have a bathroom with a bathtub – Mizuki thinks it must be pretty rare for an apartment this size. The bathroom is also unbelievably small. It was nice, though, since she and Ena really had to squeeze themselves in that miniature bathtub. It felt cozy.

Ena leads Mizuki into the bedroom, an open space with two beds, on opposite sides of the room. There’s a huge desk against the window, between the two beds. The desk houses three monitors and what looks to be an expensive PC. There’s also a small kotatsu in the middle of the room. Sat around it, are two girls. They’re eating tangerines and look up at Mizuki with interest once she and Ena step into the room. One of them has short, dark hair, and is staring at Mizuki with a gaze at the same time blank and penetrative. The other girl has incredibly long, white hair, and looks at Mizuki with so much kindness that Mizuki’s heart start warming up.

“Yeah, yeah, here’s the famous girlfriend. She’ll be staying here,” Ena grumbles, and goes to sit around the kotatsu.

Mizuki bows a little. “I’m so sorry for intruding-”

The girl with the white hair shakes her head. “Nonsense. Enanan is family, and you’re precious to her so you’re also family. Want some?” She asks, handing Mizuki a tangerine wedge.

Mizuki takes a step forward, silently accepting her offer as Ena smiles down at nothing, peeling her own tangerine. Mizuki sits down next to Ena, and bites into the wedge.

It’s sweet.

“I’m Kanade,” the girl with the white hair and kind smile murmurs. Her voice has a soft quality to it that makes Mizuki feel at ease.

“Mizuki,” she replies.

“Nice to meet you. We have been hearing a lot about you.”

Mizuki is starting to feel a bit better.

“Only good things, I hope,” she jokes, and Ena lightly elbows her, right before glaring at the girl sitting in front of her. Mizuki follows Ena’s gaze, and sees that Kanade’s girlfriend (so, Mafuyu) is staring blankly at Mizuki. It’s slightly intimidating.

“Mafuyu, will stop staring at my girlfriend like that? You’re gonna scare her off. You weirdo.”

“I’m Mafuyu,” the girl says flatly, and Mizuki finds it a bit funny that she would say so after Ena’s comment. Ena groans.

Mafuyu nods at Mizuki. “Hopefully now that you’re around, Ena will be less annoying. Please take care of her for us.”

“Hey! You- Ugh!” Ena throws a tangerine at Mafuyu’s face, who catches it barely having to look.

“See what I mean? Good luck.”

Mizuki snickers, and Ena pinches her arm. “Don’t you dare team up with her…” She threatens mildly, and before Mizuki can answer, Ena stuffs another tangerine wedge in her open mouth.

This one tastes even sweeter.

Living in a shabby little apartment with your girlfriend and two other people is not exactly the definition of romantic nor ideal, yet Mizuki cannot help but experience everything through rose-tinted glasses. It’s idyllic. Squeezing next to Ena on her small bed as Kanade quietly snores wrapped all over Mafuyu on the bed across the room. Waking up next to Ena every morning, seeing her bedraggled, sleepy face. Making breakfast for her, snuggling in bed until late in the day. Brushing their teeth side by side, and listening to Kanade and Mafuyu’s music. True to her words, Ena starts painting more than just Mizuki – she draws Kanade’s music on an old, battered tablet she has owned since middle school. Mizuki, inspired, creates a video using Kanade’s song and Ena’s art on a free app on her phone. They all love it. They sing the lyrics Mafuyu wrote and record them, and then upload the video. It explodes in popularity in only a day.

It becomes their hobby – Kanade composes, Mafuyu does the arrangement and writes lyrics, Ena draws illustrations, and Mizuki ties it all together in her free video-editing program on her phone. It’s too much fun, it brings them all closer together, and gives them a sense of belonging. Mizuki starts to understand what home and family might mean to other people.

The only issue is that Mizuki is skipping school a bit too much, and entrance exams are coming up. It’s not like she cares about school, but dropping out so close to graduation seems like a waste. But she’s too worried about her parents ambushing her, so she stays home. Ena is starting to get a bit concerned about her situation, because she knows Mizuki’s dream is to study fashion and she wants her to follow her dreams, instead of giving up like she did. Mizuki couldn’t even wish to apply to fashion school while still living with her parents, but she could now.

So, after some nagging from Ena, Mizuki agrees on going to school, only if Ena accompanies her. Ena holds her hand the whole way.

At the gate, Mizuki freezes, staring at the worried figure who’s scanning every face that walks past her. Sensing her shock and misreading it as fear, Ena protectively steps in front of Mizuki, shielding her from the woman. At Ena’s movement, she turns, and when sees Mizuki, her eyes fill with tears.

“Mizuki!” Yuuki screams shouldering past students to reach her.

“Nee-chan…” Mizuki breathes, and at the word Ena drops her defensive stance, though she looks just as shocked as Mizuki probably does.

Yuuki finally reaches her, and pulls her into a bone crushing hug.

“Are you okay? Are you safe?” Yuuki asks into Mizuki’s shoulder.

Mizuki nods, sobbing in her arms.

“Let’s… let’s go somewhere more private,” Ena murmurs, clearly worried about all the attention the two sisters are garnering. Ena is a bit like a guard dog, sometimes.

Mizuki nods as she sniffles, and the three of them walk to the other side of the road. Mizuki collapses on the pavement as Yuuki sits down next to her, holding her hands in hers. Ena hovers in front of them, both shielding them from view and scaring off anyone who might approach them.

“How- I thought you were in France,” Mizuki helplessly murmurs. Looking at Yuuki feels surreal, like she’s a figment of her imagination.

“Mom and dad, they… they called me. They heard you have been hanging out with a girl – someone saw you in Ikebukuro, and our parents thought it was me you were with, that I had come back and had secretly contacted you. And they thought you were staying with me and when I heard you were missing… I got on the first flight. I have been looking for you everywhere. I’m so glad to know you’re safe.”

Yuuki’s eyes fill with tears, and Mizuki starts crying again.

“I’m good. I- This is Ena. She’s my girlfriend.”

Yuuki smiles up at Ena, who awkwardly bows.

“Are you the one who’s been sheltering Mizuki? Keeping her safe?”

Ena nods.

“Thank you,” Yuuki breathes out. Ena nods again, clearly feeling a bit put on the spot.

“It’s my pleasure. Mizuki’s great.”

Yuuki grins at Ena, who clears her throat and resumes her defensive pacing back and forth.

“The fuck you looking at, huh? Walk on!” Ena screams at one of Mizuki’s classmates, who Mizuki now notices is staring at them from across the street. He visibly flinches and bows his head, speeding towards the gate.

“She seems protective,” Yuuki whispers, out of Ena’s earshot. Mizuki looks up at Ena’s angry face as she glares at the boy’s back.

“She’s perfect.”

Yuuki squeezes her arm.

Days later, Mizuki steps into the new apartment she will be sharing with Ena. Yuuki paid for the deposit and acted as guarantor. She even takes the both of them on a trip to a second-hand store to get furniture.

Mizuki applies to fashion school, and gets in. She starts HRT. Ena starts painting more, and gets a little job at a local art gallery – she hopes she can hang her paintings there, one day.

They still work every night with Kanade and Mafuyu, either in person or online. Their channel is growing, and so are their views.

In April, only eight months after meeting Ena, Mizuki is sitting on a blanket at a cherry blossom viewing. Ena is sketching the trees, while Yuuki is telling Kanade all about France and Mafuyu naps contentedly on Kanade’s lap.

Mizuki toys with the little cross that she still has on a necklace around her neck. Without thinking, she rips the chain off. It snaps, and Mizuki cradles it in her hand and simply looks at it. She thinks of her parents. Of the priests at her school. Of her classmates. She thinks of aching knees at mass, the smell of the incense, and the voices of the choir. She thinks of forbidden fruits, and prophets, and the commandment to love thy neighbor. She thinks of the confessional, the smell of the old wood and the coldness of the bench and the dim light seeping through the separating screen between her and a priest who swore he’d forgive her, and still shoots dirty looks at her in class.

She closes her hand around the cross, and is startled out of her thoughts by the sight of Ena’s fingers, gently prying her hand open. Mizuki lets her, and Ena slowly plucks the cross.

“May I…?” She asks.

Mizuki smiles. “Be my guest.”

“Make a wish.”

Mizuki closes her eyes and dutifully makes a wish.

I want Ena to be by my side forever.

“Done,” she whispers. Ena grins, and then she winds her arm back and sends the cross flying across the field. It lands pathetically in the little pond nearby.

“I think I know what you wished for,” Ena murmurs teasingly, setting her sketchbook down.

“Oh?”

Ena nods, and kisses Mizuki. In front of the whole world, without shame nor guilt.

Corruption was the right path to go down on, after all.