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Chapter Text

A sudden rush of air pushed Ena out of her afternoon stupor and back to reality.

“Things are really looking bad for this country if the teacher is sleeping in class instead of the students…”

Ena looked up. One of her male students had waved a page of his sketchbook in her face, and was now crossing his arms, looking down at her.

“He’s right, Shinonome-sensei,” agreed another girl.

“Say what you like,” said Ena, rubbing her drooping eyelids. “‘Free time’ applies to teachers too, you know.”

A smattering of chuckles filled the classroom.

“Whatever you say, sensei,” said the boy who’d waved his sketchbook.

“Shinonome-sensei’s always trying to sneak in a nap on Fridays,” a student muttered. (These students had names, of course, but Ena was a bit too sleepy to remember them at the moment.)

“Shouldn’t you guys be grateful I’m letting you do what you like?” Ena replied, unsuccessfully stifling a yawn. “It’s not like you get that from your other teachers.”

She was going through the motions of defending her little drowsy episode, but it was an exchange she and her students were very much used to, so nobody took it too seriously. Of course, they didn’t know why she tended to accumulate a sleep deficit as the week went on, and she couldn’t exactly tell them—working on art commissions outside of school, even dabbling in streaming, weren’t exactly the kind of activites the school would sanction.

Ena sighed. “Well, if you guys want something to do so badly, how about we watch some educational programming?”

The boy—Yaguchi-kun, that is—raised his eyebrows. “Isn’t that what teachers do when they don’t feel like teaching?”

“It’s the TV that’s doing the teaching, so it’s fine.”

“Well, whatever.” Yaguchi-kun shrugged, and returned to his seat.

Ena rummaged through her desk for the remote. “Anyone who’d prefer to keep sketching your still-lifes, feel free to continue.”

This period happened to be the second-years’ mandatory art class, so most of her students didn’t care much about the curriculum anyway, and just saw it as a free period in all but name. The after-school art club was where she could give the students who were actually passionate about the subject the attention they deserved…

That was her selfish justification for slacking off, anyway.

Yaguchi-kun was probably right—teachers shouldn’t be slacking off to begin with, even under those circumstances—but that was something she’d worry about later.

In any case, after many long years of effort, “Enanan” had finally achieved a half-respectable level of notoriety on the internet, so her commissions actually brought in some decent money. One of these days, she’d finally quit teaching and focus on her own art full-time… or so she’d been telling herself for most of the last decade. To be past age 30 and still worrying about that kind of thing… she did think it was a little pathetic, but at least she hadn’t given up on her dreams completely—right?

Brushing those thoughts out of her mind, Ena grabbed the remote from her desk and flipped on the TV. Around this time of day, they’d air some boring human-interest stories to distract homemakers and retirees—perfect for surreptitiously continuing her nap.

Ena watched from the corner of her eye as the chiron lazily scrolled across the bottom of the screen.

“Exclusive interviews! LGBTs in art and culture—their struggles and successes.”

It was a slightly unusual topic for this channel, but Ena figured it was alright to play. It was art-related, for one, and it wasn’t like much of the class would be paying attention anyway—herself included.

“All right, free time—I mean, educational programming time—starts now,” announced Ena in a monotonous voice.

The only responses from her students were audible sighs from Yaguchi-kun and a few of the more artistically-inclined girls.

If you’ve got a complaint, talk to the PTA or something. I don’t care.

Ena once again laid her head on the desk, preparing to let the TV noise go in one ear and out the other.

A few minutes later, though, Ena was jolted out of her half-sleep—this time, not by a student telling her off, but by something her sluggish mind had heard on the TV.

“…That was Sakaguchi-san, the retired music producer. Thank you very much for speaking to us, Sakaguchi-san. Next on the program is—the internationally recognized fashion designer and model, whom less fashion-inclined viewers may recognize from appearances on a selection of variety shows: Akiyama Mizuki-san! Coming up after a short break!”

Wha—haaaah!?

She bolted upright. “M-Mizuki!?”

“Sensei?” came the confused voices of several students.

Ena covered her mouth; apparently she’d said that out loud. Embarassing…

She looked away from the TV—her students were all giving her quizzical looks.

“Ah, um, I…” she said sheepishly, voice wavering. “I’m just… familiar with Mi—Akiyama-san’s work, you know… As an artist…”

“But isn’t Akiyama Mizuki a fashion designer?” asked Yaguchi-kun.

“W-Well,” said Ena, “art isn’t just paintings and sculptures. F-For a designer, cloth is their canvass… you know?”

“Bit suspicious, if you ask me…”

“Oh, can it, will you…” Ena snapped—though the redness slowly tinging her face did slightly undermine her authority.

“Definitely a bit suspicious,” agreed another girl. “Could it be that Shinonome-sensei has a sordid past with Akiyama Mizuki?!”

“Of course not!” Ena shot back. “Just—just be quiet and watch the program, okay?”

Maybe it was bad form for the teacher to fall asleep instead of the students, but it was definitely just as bad for the students to tease their teacher, right!?

“Okay, okay~,” repeated a few of the students.

Finally realizing how much blood had rushed to her face, Ena turned away from the class and stared intently at the TV. The damage had been done, but she didn’t want to give them any more ammunition. Even for someone nearly twice their age, high schoolers could be pretty scary.

Mizuki, huh…

So “Amia” had finally reached the point of being interviewed on television… Ena had only vaguely kept up with Mizuki’s career after falling out of contact when they were in college, so that came as a bit of a shock. Although, the announcer said Mizuki had already appeared on variety shows, so maybe she was even more famous than Ena thought.

Sigh. Ena would prefer to deny it, but her feelings on that were just a little bit mixed. After all, “Amia” and “K” had both gone on to achieve success in the creative industries, but Ena was just a high school teacher, and despite how seriously she took her own art, it was still technically a hobby. Frustrating… doubly so, considering it was those feelings of inferiority that had made Ena less and less proactive about keeping in touch with her old Nightcord friends.

Ena wasn’t sure quite how she stacked up against “Yuki” in the “achieving your dreams” department, but maybe that was for the best.

Fortunately, the TV program came back from commercial break just in time to stop Ena from spiraling into another whorl of self-doubt. Despite everything, that was something she definitely did not want her students to see.

“Continuing on, we’re now speaking to the one-of-a-kind Akiyama Mizuki-san, renowned designer, model, and variety show guest—”

“Hey, wait a second. Don’t make it sound like ‘variety show guest’ is just as important as the other ones .”

Ena’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t expected to hear Mizuki’s voice before the introduction finished, but there it was, blasting through her memories in all its sardonic glory. Mizuki’s voice was slightly distorted by the unexpected microphone pickup—it brought to mind how she’d sounded over the microphone in Nightcord.

Despite the distortion, Mizuki’s voice sounded both familiar and new. It hadn’t lost that playful huskiness, but Ena thought it seemed a bit deeper, more mature, and maybe even more… resonant. I wonder if she’s done voice training, she thought.

Listening to that voice for just a few seconds had drawn Ena into its clutches, and she found herself desperate to hear more.

“Ah, my apologies.” The interviewer chuckled self-effacingly. “We thought some of our audience might only recognize Akiyama-san from television, but we didn’t mean to make light of your work.”

“Oh, no worries. Being on TV is a pretty great way of advertising my clothes, anyway.”

So she hadn’t taken offense…?

Ena sighed internally, reflexively giving the TV a deadpan look. She suddenly felt like she’d been in the interviewer’s shoes many times before… Even after all these years, Mizuki was still Mizuki.

Mizuki was still Mizuki—that was how things had settled down between them, wasn’t it.

“Well, moving along,” said the interviewer after a few awkward seconds of silence. “Would you like to give a brief self-introduction to start things off?”

With that, the camera finally switched over from the interviewer to Mizuki—apparently they hadn’t planned for her to say anything until that point—and Ena’s breath once again caught in her chest.

It wasn’t like she’d expected Mizuki to still be wearing her hair in a single side-tail tied off with a ribbon after all this time, but she was definitely not prepared for—twintails!?

S-Surely there’s no demand for twintails on a 30-year-old, right!?

And yet she seemed to be pulling it off? How unfair can life get?

Ena started to get a little worked up—then, suddenly, Mizuki popped into her mind, telling her Whoa, whoa as if talking to a horse. Okay, calm down, Ena. Y-You’re not a horse.

Underneath those swaying, pink twintails, Mizuki was sporting a black blazer over a silky white blouse, with some scary-looking stiletto heels peeking out from under a long, black skirt replete with plenty of ruffles around the edges. An artsy-looking gold necklace in the shape of a flower perched on top of the faintest outline of her chest.

It was a look that miraculously combined “cute” and “professional”—and very distinctive, too. No wonder she’d been invited to appear on TV. All she needed were some big, impractical sunglasses, and she’d look right at home in Hollywood.

Mizuki must have designed the whole outfit from top to bottom. Impressive…, Ena thought, glancing down at what she was wearing: bog-standard officewear bought on supersale from a chain store.

Once again: sigh…

“Of course I’d like to give a self-introduction,” replied Mizuki, crossing her legs and leaning forward towards the camera. “Yaho~! My name is Akiyama Mizuki, affiliated with with Akiyama International, and I design clothes and model them. Nice to meet you!”

Ena found herself giving the TV yet another deadpan expression. What do you mean, “Yaho~”… Good grief. Was it possible age had only rendered Mizuki more annoying?

“Akiyama International, that’s your agency, right?” asked the interviewer.

“Indeed! It’s the agency I founded with my older sister, Akiyama Yuuki, a few years ago.”

“That’s very impressive, for both of the Akiyama si—siblings—to be so talented in this field.”

Mizuki raised her eyebrows for a moment—and Ena knew why. The interviewer was probably about to say “sisters,” but reflexively “corrected” himself.

Apparently even now, Mizuki hadn’t quite managed to escape that sort of thing—though Ena supposed Mizuki wouldn’t have gone on TV, much less programs like this, if she wasn’t prepared for it.

“Well, I would give my sister most of the credit,” said Mizuki, facial expression quickly relaxing. “She was successful way before I was, and she gave me a lot of support at the beginning. Both personally and professionally. Not to sound too corny, but I guess you could say she inspired me to find my passion.”

“That’s wonderful to hear.” The interviewer smiled. “You mentioned how she supported you personally—would you mind elaborating on that?”

“Certainly. That’s what this show is about, right? Not just a way to plug my new line of—ahem.” Mizuki interrupted herself by clearing her throat. “Never mind…”

“Well, you’re free to plug whatever you wish, but we’ll probably have to cut it in editing.”

“How merciless!”

…Nice one, Mr. Interviewer.

“You’re not the only one trying to turn a profit here, Akiyama-san.”

“Touche!” said Mizuki bemusedly. “Well, in that spirit, I suppose I should give an honest answer.”

“Please do.”

Ena was in full agreement with the interviewer there—she was very curious to hear more. Mizuki’s sister had been out of the country since before Mizuki had moved up to high school, and Mizuki had never really spoken about what happened between them back when she was in middle school.

Or much about her time in middle school at all, for that matter.

“I…” Mizuki began, then paused. She seemed to be choosing her words carefully.

After a moment of silence, Mizuki sat back in her chair, blinking slowly, then refocused on the camera in front of her.

“Since the day I was born, I’ve always been me, you see.”

“I see. Isn’t that true for everyone?”

“That’s… probably right,” agreed Mizuki. “But for some people, just being themselves—I know it sounds like a cliché, but bear with me—just being themselves is pretty damn hard. People like to put each other in convenient little boxes because it makes the world easier to understand—”

“Right, and we should probably stop doing that,” said the interviewer.

“Oh, everyone does it, even me!” retorted Mizuki. “I think it’s natural to think that way, as a human. Maybe I shouldn’t be saying this, but when I was a teenager, I was as cute as any ‘normal’ girl could hope to be, you know? And even I kept getting shoved into a box that said ‘normal’ that was totally different from everything I—ah, sorry, I’m getting a little heated.” She took a deep breath, and gave the interviewer a self-effacing look.

“No problem at all. This is why we’re here, after all.”

“To make some good money off my suffering?”

“That’s a nasty way of putting it.”

Mizuki laughed. “Well, I do appreciate the honestly. Anyway… What I’m trying to say is—if you’re someone who doesn’t fit in the box, you need courage to be yourself. And for that you need some support. The first person to give me that kind of courage was my sister, Yuuki.”

“As expected of someone bearing that name.”

“Indeed!”

Mizuki grinned at the interviewer’s bad play on words.

If Ena had tried a joke like that, she’d never hear the end of it…

Not that she’d ever have the chance to make it. Surely Mizuki remembered her—Mizuki remembered her, right…?—but it wasn’t like she could boot up Nightcord and talk with her in the middle of the night anymore. Ena didn’t even have a way of contacting her outside of that long-defunct chatroom.

“But it wasn’t just my big sister,” Mizuki continued. “There were plenty of other people who supported me along the way to where I am now.”

Hearing that, Ena’s ears perked up like a cat’s.

“Oh? Do tell.”

“I might be a bit of an extreme case, actually. I needed support from more friends I could count on one hand just to make it through that circle of hell we call ‘high school.’”

The interviewer laughed politely. Ena’s ears drooped—apparently Mizuki wasn’t going to talk about her, after all.

Obviously…

“What a weak reaction!” accused Mizuki jokingly. “I thought it was a pretty good line.”

“A wonderful line, yes,” replied the interviewer—with just a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“Hmph. Well, anyway. That’s all I wanted to sa—oh, wait, speaking of that. One more thing.”

Ena’s ears perked up again.

“Hm?” inquired the interviewer.

Without any warning, Mizuki leaned toward the camera, and made the kind of diabolically coquettish face that Ena hadn’t seen in over a decade. To make matters worse, she then pushed her hands together in the shape of a heart.

Ena felt her cheeks involuntarily flush a tinge of red.

Wait. What’s happening!?

After shooting a wink at the bemused interviewer, Mizuki looked directly into the camera.

“I just wanted to say that I miss you, ‘Enanan’~! Okay, we can keep going now. Anything else you want to know?”

…………Eh?

………………………………………Eh?

………………………………………………………………………………………………………Eh?

………………….Eh?

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………Eh?

………………………………………………………………………………………………………Eh?

………………………………………Eh?

…………Eh?

………………………………………………………………………………Eh?

After an indeterminate amount of time had passed, it was Yaguchi-kun’s voice once again that finally broke through Ena’s stupefied trance. She came to her senses just enough to see him waving a hand in front of her face.

“Shinonome-sensei seems to have crashed. Anyone know how to reboot her?”

Chapter Text

By the time Ena came to her senses, the interview with Mizuki was over.

…So too, as a matter of fact, was the class she was supposedly teaching. That took her by surprise when she heard the end-of-period chimes.

She watched her students pack up and filter out of the classroom from the corner of her still-averted eyes, hoping none of them would try to strike up a conv—

“I knew it. There’s totally something between Shinonome-sensei and Akiyama Mizuki, right?”

—Dammit.

Ena gingerly turned her head. The girl who made the accusation, one of the girls from the art club named Mikami-san, was standing in front of her desk with a rather smug look on her face.

To make matters worse, Yaguchi-kun was standing next to her, and he had an equally annoying glint in his eye.

Ena sighed, averting her gaze downward.

“O… Of course there isn’t. Is making fun of your teacher’s embarrassing moments really that interesting?”

“Well, yeah,” said Mikami-san, without a hint of sarcasm.

I guess it would be, wouldn’t it…

“…Still, you shouldn’t make that kind of face at your elders. You know that, right?”

“So you can say teacher-like stuff sometimes.”

Yaguchi-kun raised his eyebrows.

“Of course I can. I’m a teacher, after all,” replied Ena, looking very self-satisfied.

Shame she was still staring at the floor—otherwise it might’ve had more impact.

“Oh, but you’re not that much older than us, right?”

“Th-That’s… ehe… I mean!” Ena cleared her throat. “I’m not falling for that kind of flattery today, guys.”

 Yaguchi-kun and Mikami-san glanced at each other.

“Ehhh… and it usually works so well…”

Striking where it hurts today, aren’t we…

Sighing again, Ena swiveled in her chair and fished around in her bag for a few seconds, eventually pulling out a couple of small hard candies. She then held them out, one in each hand, to the pair of students.

“Look, how about you take these as a peace offering and go to your next class, okay? Sensei has some, uh… work to do.”

“Right…”

They took the candies, but didn’t seem too convinced.

“H-Hey, you’re going to be late,” pressed Ena.

Finally, they took the hint and started walking toward the exit. As they were about to leave, though, Mikami-san looked back over her shoulder.

“We’ll let you off the hook this time, sensei, but I’m expecting a full explanation at next week’s club meeting. Bye-bye~”

Good grief.

The lack of respect did irritate her a little, but Ena would be lying if she said she wasn’t at all happy to be perceived as younger than the other teachers—even though she knew for a fact she was far from the youngest member of the staff. Between her naturally petite figure and religious adherence to an expert skincare routine, she’d managed to retain a precious bit of youth.

Ena ran her fingertips across her cheeks—it was a habit of hers. She liked feeling the results of her efforts. This time, though, it made her remember something…

That skincare routine was originally recommended to her by Mizuki.

“Ahhhhhhh…………..”

Ena groaned, letting her forehead fall down onto the desk. Of all the times to remember that particular piece of information…

Did it all really come back to Mizuki?

Did… did Mizuki really want to come back to her…?

“Mrgh,” she mumbled into the desk. She knew she didn’t want to keep embarrassing herself in front of her next class, but… but…

She raised her head off the desk, only to bury her face in her hands. How was she supposed to stay calm and act like nothing had happened after that!? Even adults—even teachers have their limits, you know. Did Mizuki not understand that?

The worst part was, Ena could just imagine Mizuki ruthlessly making fun of her flailing about. “Oh, Enanan’s getting all worked up over little old me~” “You can’t take a selfie with your face that red~”

“Ugh. Shut up. I don’t take selfies anymore.” “That’s a lie.” “W-Well, I mean, I don’t take as many… Besides, there’s filters for that.” “So you are using filters!” “Not… normally…”

Suddenly, Ena slapped herself. Arguing with Mizuki like an imaginary friend was not going to help anyone, least of all her students—the first of which would be arriving soon.

“I miss you, ‘Enanan’~!”

That definitely wasn’t imaginary.

Gahhhhh. Just remembering it again made her want to roll around on the floor like a teenager.

She rubbed her face forcefully. The good news was that she didn’t seem to be sleepy anymore. The bad news was that she somehow had to teach another class, and for that, she needed to get a grip for at least a couple minutes.

Five minutes of sanity shouldn’t be that hard, she reasoned, as the next wave of students started coming into the classroom.

Just hold it together for a little bit longer…

Somehow—read: with a large amount of assistance from the adjunct lecturer, Mr. Television—Ena managed to pull through the rest of the school day. She’d tried to attend the afterschool staff meeting, but fortunately one of the senior teachers took pity on her and told her to go home early.

Catching an earlier train had the added benefit of being less crowded—i.e., she could collapse into a seat as soon as she boarded.

Soon as she did, she involuntarily let out an audible sigh. A few of the other passengers gave her odd looks, but she was too tired—and preoccupied with other thoughts—to notice.

She held her head in her hands for a few seconds, then got to work.

Despite her exhaustion, time was of the essence. This couldn’t wait until she got home.

Would be nice if I had a couple friends… and uh, a bunch of phone-dwelling vocaloids to help again …

Nevertheless, she had to do this—she had to find Mizuki.

“Stalking me again, Enanan~?” she heard her old friend say in her head.

“I-It’s not stalking,” Ena muttered under her breath—immediately praying none of the other passengers had heard her.

It wasn’t, right? Mizuki had basically extended an invitation to meet, so this was just what she needed to do to answer, right? It’s not stalking, it’s just… an RSVP!

Brushing those thoughts from her mind, Ena opened the browser on her phone. What should she search for…?

Ah. Right.

Mizuki was a celebrity now. With an agency and everything.

A quick search for “Akiyama International” brought up an office building in Shibuya in the first few results.

Was it really that simple!?

Suddenly, a fresh wave of embarrassment washed over her. Was it really that easy to find Mizuki? Could she have done this at any point in the last several years? Why—why hadn’t she even tried before now!?

Of course, she the answer she’d prefer to give herself was that she needed to focus on her “career”—whether that was as a teacher or an artist—but deep down, she knew that was just an excuse. She just didn’t want to admit it.

She copied the address into the maps application. No use dwelling on that stuff now. She’d think of a proper excuse when… if she actually found Mizuki.

I-I’d prefer not to lie, though…

She’d have to transfer trains in a couple stops, but the trip shouldn’t take more than a half hour. Though, the idea that she’d been less than hour away from Mizuki all this time was yet another dagger in her poor, fraying heart.

Keep it together, Ena.

For once, Mizuki’s voice playing in her head sounded encouraging instead of sarcastic.

“Hang in there, Ena! You can do it!”

It had been a while since she’d been to Shibuya, and she nearly got lost several times just navigating the train station.

Nevertheless, she made it out and immediately took off power-walking toward her destination. The clock on her phone showed 5:30 PM; she had no way of knowing how long Mizuki would stay at the office, especially on a Friday, but that might be cutting it a bit close.

To that point, Ena had no way of knowing if Mizuki would actually be at the office. For all she knew, Mizuki could be off in Paris doing market research or New York for a photoshoot. Those TV interviews were usually recorded a while in advance of airing.

No use in entertaining those doubts. She could always try again, she reassured herself.

This time, it wasn’t urgent. After all, she’d already “lost” Mizuki, years ago…

Still, the more blocks she rushed down, the more ragged her breath became (she could never claim to have much cardiovascular endurance) the more it started to feel like she just had to find her. She couldn’t explain it.

Glancing at her phone while waiting at a crosswalk, she noticed it was at less than 10% battery.

But—she was close. The building was less than a block away. Just cross this street, and—

Oh, god.

I-Is this really happening!?

All of a sudden, the immediacy of the situation hit her like a truck.

The walk signal came on, and she took a deep breath. Then another.

After a few more, she crossed the street.

The office building that housed Mizuki’s agency came into view. Ena slowed to a walk, and started to catch her breath. Despite that, her heart seemed to be beating even faster.

She checked her phone one last time. 5% battery.

When she looked up, two fashionably-dressed women were leaving the building and heading toward a black car on the street.

One of them had a black bob cut and sported a pair of big, round glasses—the other was—was—

Her bright pink hair was pulled into a side ponytail, swaying in the light evening breeze.

The pair approached the car.

In an instant, adrenaline took over Ena’s body, and she started sprinting as fast as she could.

I’m—not going to make it…!?

After just a few seconds, her heart just about gave up, forcing her to stop. Her lungs were on fire, and her head was pounding.

She didn’t know if she was close enough, but at that point, there was nothing else for it—she took as deep a breath as she could manage, and yelled as loud as she could:

“MIZUKI!!!!!”

……

Just as the pink-haired woman was about to get into the car, she stopped, and looked up.

For a brief moment, an expression of shock danced across her face.

Then, without missing a beat, she raised a hand and lazily pointed a finger in Ena’s direction.

“Scary selfie girl!?”

Chapter Text

Ena finally came to a stop in front of Mizuki. For a second she felt like she was about to collapse, but after leaning on her knees for support, she looked up with a big, self-satisfied smile on her face.

“Not quite,” she wheezed. “I’m the scary selfie woman.”

“Ahahaha!” Mizuki laughed loudly. “That’s true. ‘Girl’ doesn’t quite work at our age.”

Ena tried to return the laugh, but only ended up coughing.

“Wait a minute. That’s no way to greet me after all this time, is it?”

“Ufu? But you do look pretty scary right now, Enanan.”

“What are you talking about?” Ena asked—still panting like a horse. “This is my best condition, obviously.”

Surprisingly, Mizuki didn’t take that particular bait—instead, a warm smile spread across her face.

“My goodness. It’s not like you’re Kanade,” she said softly.

Between gasps for air, Ena chuckled. “Honestly, I think I might be worse than she ever was.”

“Now that’s a scary thought.”

“Well, it’s not like… I haven’t chased after you… before…”

Taking a few more deep breaths, Ena tried to push herself off her knees. As soon as she did so, though, she felt light-headed, and began wobbling.

“Ena? Wait—”

Ena craned her neck up to see a concerned look on Mizuki’s face.

The next thing she knew, she was leaning on Mizuki’s chest, her shoulders firmly clasped by Mizuki’s hands.

……..?

“Are you alright?”

Mizuki’s husky voice sounded worried—and very close.

…………………………?

“Ena?” Mizuki seemed increasingly concerned. “Enanan?”

……………………………………………………………………….?

So close!

Why was she so close!?

A-Am I being—held? ………….By Mizuki? ………………………….Right now?

Put simply, Ena was not prepared for this turn of events. She’d barely been emotionally ready to see Mizuki again in person—this was altogether too much, especially for an oxygen-deprived brain.

“Hang in there, Ena,” said Mizuki, shaking her shoulders.

E-Even if you say that…

“If you die here, it’ll be a huge pain in the ass for me, you know.”

“Well,” Ena finally managed to sputter out. “I’m glad you’re so worried about me.”

“Apology accepted!”

The anxiety—which had seemed entirely genuine—in Mizuki’s voice had abruptly vanished.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Ahaha,” Mizuki giggled loudly, brushing the question aside. “Anyway, are you all right? Can you stand?”

“I—I think so.”

Hearing that, Mizuki finally released her grip on Ena’s shoulders, and gently pushed her away from her chest.

“Sorry for, well, embracing you all of a sudden…”

“Y-You don’t have to call it ‘embracing!’”

“Oho? Come to think of it, your face is pretty red right now~”

“That’s—just because I was pushing myself so hard to get here.”

“Of course…”

Ena took a step back, putting a few more inches of much-needed space between her and Mizuki, and put her hands on her hips.

“I really did work hard to find you. Maybe you should be praising me instead of making fun of me.”

Mizuki raised her eyebrows. “Is that the kind of thing an adult should say…? I-I mean, actually, how did you find me?”

“Well, um…” Ena shifted her eyes. “I saw your interview on TV and… did some research online…”

“Ena, have you been stalking me~?”

“N—”

“Ah, let me rephrase, have you been stalking me again~?”

“Hmph.” Ena folded her arms. “You said you wanted to see me, so this was the only way.”

“Oh, I’m not blaming you. ‘All’s well that ends well,’ I guess—those are the words of Shakespeare, by the way.”

Right voice actress, wrong character…

“Well. Here I am.”

“Here you are.”

“I’m back.”

“Welcome back.”

“……”

“……”

For a few seconds of silence, they looked into each others’ eyes—like they were each confirming that the other was really there.

“Um… Apologies for interrupting, but I take it this is a friend of yours, Mizuki-san?”

Ena turned her head, finally remembering that they weren’t alone—there was that other woman who’d exited the building with Mizuki. She suddenly felt a rush of embarrassment, realizing that her little episode had been witnessed by someone she didn’t know.

A-Actually, who was this black-haired, bowl-cut-sporting woman? An associate of Mizuki’s? A friend? A… girlfriend…?

 Maybe it was Ena’s imagination, but her voice sounded… well… a bit like Mizuki’s. Could it be that…?

“Oh, Yui-chan, sorry about that,” replied Mizuki.

Yui-chan, huh…

Ena took a little heart in the fact that Mizuki wasn’t dropping honorifics. So they couldn’t have been close close…

Wait, why should Ena be concerned with that right now? All that running must have gotten to her brain.

“Guess I should give you a quick introduction. Yui-chan, this is Ena—she’s an… old friend of mine, back from my school days.”

“I see.” The black-haired woman—Yui, that is—walked over and extended her hand to Ena. “My name is Tsukinoki Yui. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too… I’m Shinonome Ena.” Ena cautiously shook her hand. “So… what’s your relationship to Mizuki?”

“Hang on, Ena, that’s a little too obvious,” Mizuki cut in.

“It’s a normal question, isn’t it?” Ena shot back indignantly.

She was hoping the redness in her face could still plausibly be explained by the physical exertion.

“Maybe, but you’d usually start with ‘So, do you work with Mizuki?’ or something like that… Did you never learn business-talk, Enanan~?”

“Well, my apologies for not being a corporate slave,” Ena scoffed, then turned back to Yui. “So…?”

Yui folded her arms, looking nonplussed.

“I’m Mizuki-san’s administrative assistant.”

“Hmm?” Ena raised her eyebrows. “But you use her first name?”

“Well, Yui-chan’s not just my assistant,” said Mizuki.

Ena froze.

“…she’s also my friend!”

Ena unfroze.

“I owe a lot to Mizuki-san, too,” said Yui.

That wasn’t too surprising. The more she looked at and listened to Yui, the more Ena became convinced that Yui was similar to Mizuki in more ways than one.

Since Mizuki’s little incident all those years ago, she liked to think she’d gotten much better at recognizing… that sort of thing. She’d started following a lot of those kinds of people online, too, for reasons.

“Actually,” Yui continued, apparently oblivious to Ena’s ogling, “didn’t you say that you barely attended school, Mizuki-san?”

“Well, that’s true, but I still had a lot of friends. There’s no way someone as cute as me wouldn’t be popular, no matter the circumstances.”

“Yeah, yeah.” “Of course, of course.”

—Ena and Yui responded to Mizuki’s little boast at the same time.

Ena found it embarrassing, but Mizuki seemed to think it was hilarious, and burst out laughing.

“Ahahaha. Maybe Enanan and Yui-chan are more alike than you guys think~”

“That’s not true,” they both responded. At the same time.

Which only made Mizuki laugh harder.

Ena noticed that Yui’s bowl cut was bisected by a few thin braids, almost making it look like the way she’d worn her hair back in high school. Surely Mizuki hadn’t recommended that look to her because of me… right, Ena thought for a moment, delusionally.

“Well, I’ll be going now,” said Yui, interrupting Mizuki’s giggling. “Do you still need me to drive you, Mizuki-san?”

“Hmmm… I think I’d better take care of Ena for now, so you can go without me.”

“Understood. Have a good weekend.”

“You too!”

Yui gave Mizuki a nod, then walked back to the car and opened the door into the driver’s seat. Just before she got in, she shot Ena a rather suspicious look over her shoulder.

What kind of face was that?

Ena couldn’t help but look smug and stick her tongue out in return.

When the car had finally started to drive away, Mizuki turned toward Ena, the playful laughter on her face replaced with a more sincere, warm smile.

“So, Ena… want to hit up a family restaurant? For old times’ sake?”

Chapter Text

Walking side by side through the crowded streets of Shibuya, Ena couldn’t quite get used to the fact that the person next to her was really there.

Maybe it was the lack of sleep—her vision kept getting fuzzy, like she was dreaming, but the slightest reminder of Mizuki’s presence would snap her back to reality.

A lock of pink hair swaying into her peripheral vision.

The faint clack of heels against the concrete.

A hand moving just a bit closer to hers than would a stranger’s.

Just to make absolutely sure, she snuck a careful glance at her companion—or what she thought was careful, but since Mizuki turned her head and winked back in response, clearly she’d been a bit overconfident in that.

Ena could only give a frazzled smile in return.

Still, it provided her an excuse to take in Mizuki’s appearance in a way that she wasn’t able to when she’d been fighting for her life post-sprint. Her old friend’s outfit wasn’t quite as fashion-forward as she’d looked in that TV interview, but it was still impressively put together. Despite not being a fashion professional like Mizuki, Ena had always had a certain eye for clothes.

Sensible black pumps under silky black dress pants, a ruffled pink shirt under an artistically-cut black blazer; apart from looking very nice, Ena’s second thought was that it all looked pretty expensive. Designer clothes tended to be pricey… but she supposed the designers themselves would at least get a decent discount on their own clothes.

“I—I really like that jacket,” Ena said honestly, trying to fill the silence.

“Aha, thanks,” Mizuki replied. “You want one?”

“Eh? You’d just… give it to me?”

“I’d give you at least a 20% discount.”

“On what…?”

“Three hundred thousand yen.”

“That much!?” Ena’s eyes flared open. “N-Now it feels like you’re being cheap with that discount…”

“How about 50%?”

“A high school teacher can’t afford that, even with a 50% discount.”

“Oh? So that’s what Ena turned into… a teacher, huh…”

“W-Well, yes.” Ena turned away, biting her lip. She hadn’t meant to let that slip so soon—but it had to come out eventually. She sighed.

“I think that’s great, actually.” Mizuki giggled softly. “You know, if there were more teachers like you around back in the day, maybe I’d have wanted to go to school a little more often.”

Hearing that, Ena suddenly swelled up with pride.

Then she remembered how she really felt about the job, and immediately deflated.

“J-Just so you know,” she said, looking down at the sidewalk. “I’m still trying to be an artist. I mean—I am an artist.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I know. I follow your art accounts online, actually.”

“Huh?”

Ena stopped. She planted her feet on the ground and looked right at Mizuki, folding her arms.

Mizuki turned around. “E-Enanan? What’s with that face?”

“Then—then you could have at least DM’d me!”

“I—I, well…” Mizuki raised her eyebrows skeptically. “I only found your new account relatively recently, so it would’ve been a little awkward, right? Besides, wasn’t my little shout-out on TV waaaay more fun?”

“F-Fun!? You practically gave me a heart attack! And I made a fool of myself in front of my students…”

“You watched it in class? What kind of teacher are you supposed to be!?”

Mizuki’s expression turned from skeptical to looking a little concerned.

“Hmph,” said Ena in response, turning up the corners of her mouth. “I’m an art teacher, of course.”

“Is that really something you should say with such a smug face? I mean, I guess art class does have a pretty slack-offy impression, but…”

“Don’t worry. For the kids who don’t slack off, I run the art club.”

“Ahaha. There’s something poetic about Ena’s first time participating in club activities being as an adult instead of a student.”

Ena sighed again. “I guess you’re right about that. I’d rather go home, but it beats having to hang around in that stuffy faculty office all afternoon.”

“That does sound like you.”

“Doesn’t it?”

They gave each other self-satisfied looks. This continued for several seconds, until they both descended into laughter.

“All right, let’s go, shall we?” offered Mizuki, and Ena nodded in agreement.

With the brief confrontation over, they started walking again.

As the friendly silence returned, Ena couldn’t help but steal more furtive glances at Mizuki. Despite her companion clearly realizing and shooting her a bemused look, Ena’s eyes still lingered on certain details that she hadn’t noticed before.

For example, the faint outline of—something on her chest.

Ena figured it could easily have been a padded bra or something similar, since most women’s tops needed just a tiny bit of that something to fill them out properly. But she couldn’t rule out the possibility that the source was a little less—artificial.

She quickly turned away, cheeks flushing. Probably shouldn’t be thinking about Mizuki’s chest, now of all times.

…Still, even so, she wondered what it might mean if Mizuki had been pursuing those kinds of physical changes. Maybe there were—other changes…?

She’d seemed just like the Mizuki she’d always known—just a little more grown-up, of course—but it had been many years, and lots can change in that amount of time. Ena knew people from college who’d turned into totally new characters in just a few years, so maybe she shouldn’t assume Mizuki was the same person, or even that she thought of herself the same way as she did when they were teenagers.

Not that there weren’t exceptions—Ena herself hadn’t managed to change very much, despite how the years kept passing.

Sigh…

She wondered if it was alright to take some solace in the fact that hers were still slightly  larger than Mizuki’s. That was one place she could still claim a small amount of superiority, stupid as it might be. Before, she’d been teased by Mizuki about that, but given the—uh—situation at the time, she couldn’t really return that teasing. Now, though, maybe she could finally get a bit of revenge…

“This place look good?”

Ena’s unproductive internal monologue was interrupted—or, more accurately, mercifully killed—by their arrival at the restaurant Mizuki was leading them to.

“Ah—oh, yeah. Sure.”

Ena replied sheepishly, brushing those silly thoughts aside, and followed Mizuki into the restaurant.

Fortunately, they didn’t have to wait long to be seated at opposite sides of a booth.

“Let’s order some drinks… Oh, Enanan~, want to get some cocktails or something?”

“Huh?”

Ena blinked.

As they were sitting down, it had felt for a moment like they were back in the old Niigo days, like nothing had changed—but obviously that Mizuki wouldn’t be suggesting they order alcoholic beverages, so the illusion was quickly shattered.

“I know it’s a family restaurant, so they won’t have much, but… hey, Ena...?”

Mizuki tilted her head.

“Y-Yes?”

“You’re spacing out.”

“Oh, sorry, I just—I wasn’t expecting you to, you know… alcohol…”

“Ahaha. We’re adults, aren’t we?”

“I guess so…”

“Ena… by any chance, can you not hold your liquor~?”

“Of course I can!” Ena shot back, tearing her gaze away from Mizuki’s taunting face. “I’ll order a cocktail too.”

She flipped through the menu to the alcoholic beverages page. The pictures looked inviting, at least, even if the ingredients seemed intimidatingly—well, alcoholic.

“Don’t give in to peer pressure so quickly, Enanan. Isn’t that what you teachers say?”

“I’ve never said that,” she replied, not looking up.

“Some teacher you are…”

“The kids like me, at least.”

“Really? I didn’t realize there was a demand for tsundere teachers these days… Maybe I’m just out of touch with today’s youth.”

Ena finally looked up from the menu, having been totally unable to concentrate on it, and crossed her arms.

“I’m not a tsundere. And you can’t talk like a crotchety old man while not looking a day over 25, it’s unfair.”

“Whahaha!” Mizuki laughed. “Gosh, thanks. That’s very dere—I mean, nice of you to say.”

“Hmph,” said Ena, looking back down at the menu. “Why does your skin look so good, anyway? I do a pretty good skincare routine, but they stopped asking for my ID when I buy age-restricted stuff years ago…”

“Well, the eye bags don’t exactly help your case.”

“I cover them up with makeup!”

“That’s not a solution.”

“Don’t you have any advice or something?”

“Hmm, let me think…” From the corner of her eye, Ena saw Mizuki stroking her chin dramatically. “Well, if you want to imitate me, you can always add some estrogen injections to your routine.”

Ena looked up again, eyes wide. “Eh? Are you joking?”

“Mm, I am joking about recommending it to you…”

“Seriously? You’re actually doing them?”

“Whoa, Ena, you look a little scary again.”

Mizuki scrunched up her eyebrows. Realizing she was probably right, Ena tried to relax her facial muscles, and sighed.

“Sorry… I was just, you know…”

“Surprised?”

“N-Not exactly… well, I am, but… I did notice there were some other… new changes… thought it was a possibility…”

As Ena trailed off, Mizuki leaned forward, looking amused.

“You were looking at my chest, weren’t you, Enanan~?”

“Hah…? Of course not!”

“Right, right. Well, that’s good to know. I guess your face is just red from anger, is all.”

“Oh, say what you like,” said Ena, burying her face once again in the cocktail menu.

Guh…

It’s not like she could even deny it. Mizuki had definitely noticed her sneaking all those glances as they were walking to the restaurant.

Mizuki had always been pretty well-attuned to the perceptions of people around her…

In an effort to distract herself from the conversation, Ena finally started reading the cocktail menu. They all seemed pretty basic—hardly surprising for a family restaurant—but given the occasion, that was probably for the best. She didn’t want to take a chance with an unknown drink, given her tendency to… well… never mind…

“Think I’ll get that fruity green one,” said Mizuki—apparently taking the cue to revert the discussion back to more ordinary places. Thanks for taking pity on me.

“R-Right…” Ena glanced over to the cocktail Mizuki was talking about. “That does look good. Maybe I’ll get the same thing.”

“Okay!” Mizuki smiled. “All right, I’ll hit the button.”

“W-Wait… You’re not going to make a comment about how it would look good in a selfie, or something…?”

Mizuki raised her eyebrows, smiling playfully.

“I was going to save that one for when we ordered food.”

“……”

Winking at Ena’s deadpan expression, Mizuki pressed the button to call the waiter.

Ena promised herself she’d be perfectly normal about the cocktail...

Chapter Text

Ena was not normal about the cocktail.

She’d known what was going to happen as soon as she and Mizuki took their first sips—the latter casually remarking, “Oooh, this is pretty sweet. That’s dangerous”—and the faint, familiar sting of alcohol hit her throat.

It wasn’t that she was an alcoholic or something—far from it, she hardly drank at all, and that was the problem. Within a minute, she could feel her inhibitions starting to slip. She could vividly imagine Mizuki teasing her about being a lightweight, and prayed that even if that did come true, the effects would stop somewhere short of truly embarrassing.

“Do you not like it?” asked Mizuki.

“Eh? What do you mean?”

“You were making another scary face just now…”

Ena’s forehead quickly flushed red, and she put the glass down.

“Oh, no, I mean, I do like it,” she said, shifting her eyes. “I was just, uh… happy that it was sweet. I don’t like bitter drinks.”

Mizuki grinned. “Something a little kid would say…”

“And I bet you’ve developed a refined palate for all kinds of weird alcohol, right?”

“Ahaha, nope,” said Mizuki, tilting her head to the side. “I’m just as bad as you.”

“Then why did you say that?” Ena crossed her arms.

“I wanted to see what kind of face you’d make.”

You’re not supposed to be honest…. Ena sighed.

“Is my face really that interesting?”

“Well…” Mizuki paused for a moment, then contorted her face into a sickeningly pleading look, replete with upturned puppy eyes. “It’s been a really long time, you know. My Enananium levels are dangerously low~”

“Hah—”

The little act hit Ena’s chest like a hammer. At least she hadn’t put her hands in the shape of a heart this time…

She took a deep breath. “Well, my Mizuki levels are just about overloaded right now, thank you very much.”

“Eh… That’s no good, we’ve still got a whole dinner in front of us.”

Ena responded to that by taking another sip of her drink—consequences be damned.

“I guess I’ll have to manage somehow…”

“Don’t leave too much of that to the alcohol, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ena took a deep breath. “Speaking of which, maybe we should order food…”

Mizuki raised her eyebrows, then smiled.

“Oh, right. Good call,” she said, pressing the button to call the waiter.

They’d arrived at the restaurant on the earlier side of the evening, but the booths around them were slowly starting to fill up. As they waited, Ena absentmindedly noticed a wide variety of people sitting down to eat—not just students and salarymen, or even the occasional tourist, but also more than a few people who probably fell outside the bounds of “normal” in one way or another.

Well, if Mizuki chose this place, maybe… she thought. Mizuki’s office is around here, and that Yui woman…

Ena quickly brushed those thoughts aside, willing her eyes to stop wandering. She didn’t want to seem prejudiced, especially in present company.

…Though, who knows, maybe Mizuki would find it amusing.

“—can I get for you?”

The voice of the waiter broke through Ena’s daze. She opened her mouth to order, but Mizuki started answering before she could say anything.

Slightly annoyed by that, Ena decided to plot some petty revenge.

“…And for an appetizer, I’ll have the—”

“French fries, right?” Ena interrupted, smiling at the waiter.

“Eh?” Mizuki objected. “I’m on a diet, actually…”

“Oh, really?” Ena looked back at Mizuki, suddenly feeling bad. “Sorry…”

After a moment of hesitation, though, Mizuki shrugged. “Well, let’s do it anyway. I’m sure one little thing won’t hurt.”

“…Got it,” said the waiter, seeming entirely unfazed by their little argument. Having waited a few tables herself during college, Ena could understand…

Once their orders had been taken, Ena furrowed her eyebrows at Mizuki.

“You’re really on a diet?”

“…Trying to, at least.”

“Hardly seems like you need to, from what I can see.”

“Aww, thank you~. Good to know you’ve been keeping such a close eye on my figure.”

“Th-Th-That’s not what I—hmph,” Ena stuttered, looking away.

“Heh,” laughed Mizuki.

An around-thirty woman really shouldn’t be getting so easily flustered—she understood that logically, but somehow Mizuki had found a way to bypass the safeguards she’d put up over all those years of adulthood. Surely there was no deeper reason for that.

Get it together, me.

“So… why are you dieting, then? For modeling?”

“Oh, that’s not a bad guess.”

Ena’s face brightened. Then—

“But, no, actually. The clothes I make aren’t really the kind of thing you’d be walking down a catwalk in Paris in, so don’t have to worry about being super thin.”

—well, at least Mizuki had praised her reasoning.

“I guess that makes sense. So, why…?”

“Aha. Well, it goes back to those… changes you noticed earlier.”

“Eh…?” Confusion took over Ena’s face.

 “Apparently the estrogen works better if you put on weight and then diet and then repeat the process.” Mizuki looked just a tiny bit sheepish. “I’m sure this is all pretty strange to you, sorry…”

Hearing that, Ena’s ears perked up.

“Oh, actually, no.”

“Hmm?”

“I saw, uh… some people I follow online were talking about that…”

Mizuki laughed. “Seriously? You’re full of surprises, Ena.”

Hey, it’s your fault that I—

Swallowing that thought before it accidentally escaped her mouth, Ena calmly replied, “You shouldn’t underestimate me.”

“Sorry about that. You must know a lot, then, if you’d heard something like that.”

“W-Well, I suppose, maybe…” Ena suddenly felt a little self-conscious. “It’s not like I’m a… you know…”

“A what?”

“Uhhhh…. Oh, never mind.” Ena forcibly put an end to the discussion by taking a big sip from the drink.

Ironic, considering it was probably that drink that lead her here in the first place…

“Well, if you’re so knowledgeable about… that kind of thing, that must mean you’ve had some pretty interesting life experiences since Nightcord, right?”

Ena was prepared to shoot another deadpan look at Mizuki, but looking at her, she actually seemed to be serious. So, in that spirit, she decided to answer seriously.

“Nothing particularly interesting, actually.”

She’d participated in some wacky antics in college (though, didn’t everyone?)—and occasionally got dragged into tomfoolery with her little brother that some would call “interesting”—but surely none of that would be on the level that the famous Akiyama Mizuki would find entertaining.

Trying to pass that stuff off as compelling anecdotes would probably just make her feel pitiful, anyway, so she took the so-called high road out.

“Ehhh, really? That can’t be true.”

Apparently, Mizuki was not going to let her off so easy.

“W-Well, nothing to write home about, so to speak…”

“How about… romantic experiences, then?”

Ena gulped, looking down.

“That’s… um…”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you’d rather not,” Mizuki assured her.

Hearing that only made her feel more pathetic.

Normally—well, on the very rare occasion when she was talking with a friend in person instead of online—she’d have the good judgment to end this line of questioning gracefully, but at that point there was a vicious combination of sleep deprivation and alcohol in her system.

“I—I haven’t...”

“Hmm? What do you mean?”

“I haven’t had any, okay!”

“Eh?” Mizuki’s mouth fell open just a little.

“You can laugh if you want.”

“I—ehe…” Mizuki laughed awkwardly. “I wouldn’t do that… But… you’ve really never…?”

“I just—I haven’t had the time… or like… it hasn’t been the right time… you know…”

Ena wasn’t just blushing; tears were now starting to pool in the corners of her eyes.

“W-Well,” said Mizuki, clearly trying to diffuse Ena’s embarrassment, “Some people are just like that, right? It’s okay to not have a big, like, need for romance.”

“That’s—it’s not really like that…”

“Hmm?” Mizuki tilted her head quizzically.

“I just—I guess I just never found the right time… or the right person… ahaha.” Ena let out a self-deprecating laugh.

“I see! That makes sense.”

“R-Really?”

“Your standards must be higher than most people’s. That’s a good thing, if you ask me.”

“I-I wouldn’t really say—I’m not sure it’s a question of standards being ‘high’…”

“Truth be told, I don’t think I could imagine Ena with a boyfriend, anyway.”

Saying that, Mizuki leaned forward and rested her chin on her hands. After blinking away her tears, Ena saw that the look on her friend’s face was not just casual teasing—she looked almost expectant.

Ena rubbed her eyes, then sighed.

“Me neither.”

“So…” Mizuki raised her eyebrows. “You don’t want to go out with anyone, then…?”

“No, dummy. That’s not what I’m saying.”

Actually, what the hell am I saying!?

Whatever it was, it was too late to put the cat back in the bag.

“Ehehe. I knew it.”

Mizuki leaned back, stroking her chin philosophically.

“What do you mean, you knew it? Knew what?” Ena asked pointedly.

“Oh, no need to be ashamed, Enanan, I think that’s wonderful. Kids these days are proud of who they are.”

“There you go talking like an old man again…”

“Ahaha. Well, sorry for being an old man with twintails.”

“Yeah, what is up with that?”

“What can I say? Somehow there’s demand for it.”

“Sometimes I just don’t get the trends these days.”

“Ena’s sounding pretty old-man-y now, too…”

“Oh, you’re right.”

They both descended into fits of laughter, definitely a bit out of proportion to the jokes that preceded them. At the end of it, though, Ena’s chest felt just a little lighter, and that wasn’t entirely the alcohol’s fault.

“So,” said Ena, folding her arms. “What about you, then? Any romantic experiences?”

“Oh, me?”

Mizuki fluttered her eyelashes innocently.

“Who else would I be asking?”

“Hehe.”

“What do you mean, ‘hehe’?”

“Well, anyway. My story might be a bit longer than yours—sure you want me to answer?”

Ena nodded vigorously.

Too late to back down now, she, taking another sip of her dangerously sweet drink.

Chapter Text

“I’ve actually gone out with quite a few people over the years.”

“Is that so.”

“Hey, you’re the one who asked me!”

“Oh, sorry. Please keep going…”

Apparently, Ena didn’t realize how monotonous her response sounded.

“Well, anyway.” Mizuki took a quick sip of her drink, then looked back at Ena. “There’s been a bit of a variety of people—my exes are a pretty diverse group.”

“Really?”

This time, Ena tried her best to sound interested.

Not that she wasn’t interested, of course. This counts as “girl talk,” right, she tried to convince herself.

“Yep. I think there’s actually about seven in total.” Mizuki mimed some finger counting. “Let’s see… two guys, four girls, and—one somewhere in between.”

“Seven…” Ena muttered.

“That’s the split as it stands now, actually,” Mizuki said, ignoring Ena’s mumbling. “If we’re going by when we first started dating, it was more like four guys and three girls, or something like that.”

“S-Seven?” Ena muttered again.

“Enanan, are you paying attention?”

“Eh? Uh, y-yes, I just—that’s a lot, isn’t it…”

“Don’t worry, you’re not gonna have to fight them or anything~.”

Ena shot her another deadpan look, which only made her giggle at her own joke.

“I mean, it’s been almost ten years since we graduated,” Mizuki continued. “I think that’s pretty normal—oh, no offense meant.”

“Some taken, thanks.” Ena took another swig of her drink—the glass was getting perilously close to empty already.

“Okay, if it makes you feel better, maybe seven is a bit much?”

“Seven is still infinitely more than zero.”

“I’m trying to help here…”

“Well, I appreciate the effort at least.”

“You’re very welcome.”

Mizuki grinned broadly.

Unable to maintain her expressionless look in the face of that smile, Ena couldn’t help but smile thinly in return.

Then she tried to tell herself that it was the alcohol that was making her more susceptible to her friend’s charms.

“Th—That is a pretty wide variety of people, though,” said Ena.

Mizuki rubbed her neck. “It is, isn’t it? You can probably tell me I’ve been indecisive. I get that a lot from Yui-chan.”

Her again…

“Oh, no, I mean… There’s nothing wrong with—you know. Not caring about gender when it comes to love.”

“Aww, thanks.” Mizuki smiled again. “But to be honest, I think I have been a little indecisive. It’s a—a bad habit of mine.”

Their eyes met for several seconds. Ena understood what she was trying to imply.

“Anyway!” said Mizuki, ending the little moment. “You’re not surprised, Ena?”

Ena tilted her head. “Surprised about what?”

“That I’ve dated so many different types of people. Like if you just watched me on TV, you’d probably get the impression that I was some boy-crazy queen with a new crush every other month.”

“What, seriously?”

That surprised her more than anything. It was totally different from the Mizuki that Ena had known—though, that said, Ena had to remind herself that it had been a very long time since then, and people did have a tendency to change a lot in a decade.

Still…

“Uwah, Ena’s making another weird face…”

“Ah, sorry. It’s just—sorry, I haven’t really seen you on TV besides that interview.”

Ena suddenly felt bad about that. She should have done some more research before literally running over to Mizuki like there was no time to waste. Too late now, of course.

“I’m not 100% sure how to feel about that,” replied Mizuki, laughing. “I guess it’s nice that that’s not the impression you got, but I still would’ve wanted to show off my fame a little…”

“Well, I’ll be sure to watch all of your VODs when I get home.”

“Ehhhh… Don’t do that, it’ll be embarrassing…~”

“Which one do you want!?” Ena exhaled loudly.

To which Mizuki simply stuck out her tongue, and grinned.

Ugh, you know I can’t resist that… Ena thought, gritting her teeth.

“Okay, but like, why do you think I’d get that impression?”

“Oh, you know. It’s the character I play. Like the twintails… There’s demand for it. Though I have actually started to like the twintails, if I’m being honest.”

“I see… You never struck me as someone who’d change themselves because of what society wanted, though,” Ena objected.

“…Tell me what you really think, will you?” said Mizuki sarcastically.

“Ah—uh, sorry…”

“Ahaha, don’t worry, I’m not offended. I’m happy that you think that about me, but...”

“But…?”

“Well, adults have to compromise sometimes. I think I mentioned in that interview—it’s good advertising for the business.” Mizuki looked down at the table. “Besides, I’m not really ‘being myself’ on TV. I’m just playing a character named Akiyama Mizuki, who sometimes happens to align with the real person, and sometimes doesn’t. Does that make sense?”

Mizuki looked up at Ena, her face earnest for once.

Ena blinked. “It does, actually.”

“Glad to hear that~!”

“…You’re very welcome.”

They both took sips from their drinks.

Ena wondered just where the line between “character” and “real person” really fell. She remembered how Mizuki’s classmates back in school had sometimes accused her of playing a character, aiming for attention, just by being herself—it must be strange to do all of that deliberately. Strange… or even distressing, unless you were blessed with particularly strong self-assurance.

She knew Mizuki could be fragile, but she also believed that Mizuki had an unbreakable core somewhere deep down… one that she’d like to think she played some small part in forging, all those years ago.

It did seem to Ena that this grown-adult Mizuki had a good handle on these things. Based solely on their brief reunion and a short TV interview, at least.

She stole a glance over the table; Mizuki was looking down at her drink, eyes unfocused, with a faint smile lingering on her face. Maybe being able to say what she’d just said—and have Ena understand—really had made her happy.

As Ena tried to return her glass to the table, she realized she’d started to sway a little. She carefully put the glass down without causing an accident, but she definitely needed to slow down—that is, assuming the damage hadn’t been done already.

“Ena, I think you might be a little tipsy…”

“Oh, shut up,” she growled at the drink in front of her—then looked up at Mizuki’s half-concerned, half-amused face. “I jusst wanted to ask, by the way…”

“Oh?”

Ena inhaled and exhaled. “Why did you do… that? On the interview.”

“That?”

“You know… with the h-heart, and everything…”

“Oh, that. Heh.” Mizuki cocked her head. “Because I missed you—didn’t I say that?”

“You did, but, you know. It’ss been, like, a decade, right?”

“Y—Yeah…”

“So… why after all thiss time…?”

“Eh…” Mizuki scratched her chin, averting her eyes—as if she didn’t have a good answer to Ena’s tipsily delivered question.

Or, more accurately, that she didn’t want to answer.

Ena haphazardly thrust out her arm toward Mizuki, pointing accusingly. Fortunately, she didn’t impact any of the glasses.

“Answer, please.”

“There’s not a lot of persuasive power in that floppy noodle…”

Ena withdrew her noodle. But she remained defiant.

“Hmph. Can you at leasst say why you missed me, then?”

“Well, I—I mean…” Mizuki scratched her neck this time—still acting evasive. She made eye contact with Ena, and seeing her still-serious face, seemed to realize she wasn’t getting out of this line of questioning very easily. “Gosh, you’re really coming on strong here.”

Ena let out another hmph. “I’m ssorry to say that old age has only made me mooore stubborn.”

“Ahaha,” Mizuki laughed… just a bit more awkwardly than normal. “Guess I should’ve predicted that…”

“Oy!”

“I-I mean, wow! I’m so shocked that Ena’s a tsundere! Why did I never notice before?”

“Th-That’ss not much better…” Ena folded her arms indignantly. “Wait, you sstill haven’t ansswered!”

“W-Well, how about I ask you why you tracked me down so quickly, then?”

“Because you’re my preciouss friend!!”

“Whah, even tipsy Ena didn’t even skip a beat…” Mizuki seemed a little taken aback.

“I answered, so you should answer too!”

Mizuki sighed—twice. Then one more time.

“Oh, fine. Fine, okay?”

“Mmmhmm!” Ena leaned forward, ears fully perked.

“This is… a little embarrassing, but…” Mizuki began, gaze flicking between her lap, the table, and Ena’s expectant face. “I—I really like Yui-chan, and I’ve made a lot of good friends in the agency and other places and stuff, but lately I… I’ve realized that… I…”

A few tears had started to pool in the corners of her eyes.

That made Ena feel a little bad for pushing her so hard, but it was too late to stop now. Besides, that was the drink’s fault, right…?

“I still haven’t managed to find someone like you in my life, okay?”

Ena raised her eyebrows. “Someone like m-me?”

“Mmm.” Mizuki nodded. “Someone who—someone who makes me—I’m not sure exactly how to describe it...”

“Y-You can do the besst you can…” Ena offered.

“Well, thanks for that. I guess… for the past couple years or so, I’ve been feeling a tiny bit—lonely, sometimes…”

“Despite all your friends?”

“You really want me to say it…?”

Mizuki gave her one last pleading look. Ena nearly fell for it and caved, but held her ground.

“Please…”

Upon hearing that, Mizuki screwed up her fists for a moment, apparently trying to summon the courage to respond.

“I just—I haven’t had anyone like Ena in my life for a while, okay? You were always my—my—my—solace—my rock… my… you know what I mean…!”

Mizuki looked directly at Ena again—eyes glistening with tears.

Ena suddenly felt the edges of her own eyes getting wet. Her face, already pink from the cocktail, flushed red.

She’d been the one who insisted on getting an answer, but this was all so sudden—everything was happening so fast.

They looked into each others’ eyes.

The silence held for a few seconds that seemed like minutes, and then—

Chapter Text

“Sorry for the wait, here you are!”

They were jolted out of the moment by the waiter setting plates down onto the table. Right, they had ordered food, hadn’t they…

What was that, just now…? Ena thought, staring intently at the plate of pasta in front of her.

She stole a quick glance across the table—Mizuki was doing her best to smile politely at the waiter, tears still glistening in the corners of her eyes. As an adult, Ena should probably be doing the same, but that was a little more than she could manage at that point.

The waiter departed, and an unclear amount of time passed in silence.

Probably fifteen seconds, maybe, but who’s counting…

“Not going to eat, Ena?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” Reflexively, she picked up her utensils and started poking at the pasta—still avoiding eye contact with Mizuki.

A few more seconds passed as they both chewed on their food. Ena heard the faint crunch of Mizuki eating the fries she’d forced on her, and got a little distracted.

“…Was my answer satisfactory, then?”

Ena finally looked up, only to see Mizuki looking down at her food.

“It—that—”

She stuttered, then took a deep breath.

“…Well, even iff the ending got cut off, it made me happy to hear that you think of me like that. Thankss for answering.”

“N-No need to thank me,” said Mizuki, fiddling with her fork.

“I was coming on a little sstrong, sorry…”

“Ahaha, don’t worry about it.” With her head still pointed down, Mizuki raised her eyes to look at Ena. “Besides, apparently it’s good for Ena to be aggressive with me sometimes…”

Ena almost dropped her fork. “Wh-What’s that supposed to mean!?”

“Oh, nothing~. Just an observation based on our our personal history.”

“Ah, right… I-I seeee…” Ena looked down, trying in vain to hide the crimson shade her ears had turned.

“Wow, looks like Ena can be pretty cute when tipsy,” said Mizuki, casually popping another fry into her mouth. “Did you think I was referring to—something else?”

“Wh—”

The crimson on her ears suddenly spread to her forehead.

“O-O-Of course not, idiot!” she said loudly, poking her pasta so hard with her fork that it collided with the plate with a clang.

That only made Mizuki giggle again.

“Enanan, whoa, whoa…”

“I’m not a horsse, you know!”

“Aha, sorry. Just a tiny bit of revenge for earlier.”

Ena sighed, scooping up some pasta. She took a tentative bite.

“Oh. It’ss good.”

“I know, right?” said Mizuki without missing a beat. “I go here all the time after work. Much better than you’d expect for a family restaurant.”

“Mmm.” Instead of responding, Ena shoveled another big bite into her mouth. It really was good.

And Ena, it turned out, was starving.

“Still, a teacher, huh… Standing on the other side of the podium. You’ve got to tell me what that’s like sometime.”

“Rrtss rrhdrr rrhn rrt rrrks.”

“Okay, ‘sometime’ might have been a little vague, but it definitely referred to after you finished chewing.”

“Shrrt rrp.”

To that, Mizuki only laughed.

Finally swallowing the much-too-large chunk of pasta, Ena shot a smug look over the table.

“Don’t be tooo mean to me. I’ll put you in ssupplementary lessons.”

Mizuki’s face suddenly paled. “Anything but that…!”

Ena giggled triumphantly—then set about devouring more pasta.

“Oh, but now that I think about it,” said Mizuki, casually munching a fry, “supplementary lessons for art class don’t actually sound that bad.”

“Rrr’ll mrrk—” Ena caught herself, and hurriedly swallowed. “I’ll make it extra tediouss, don’t worry. You can’t lleave ‘till you drraw 50 thoussand still lifess.”

“Whah, scary!”

“Hehe.”

“50 thousand is way too many… Are you trying to keep me there forever?”

“Sso what? At leasst you couldn’t run away again.”

Ena picked up another spoonful, and had it halfway to her mouth before she realized what she’d just said. She froze.

“Ena…”

Mizuki’s sarcastic tone had softened.

“I—I mean—forget I said that!” she declared, then stuffed the pasta into her mouth.

Her friend raised her eyebrows for a moment, then smiled. “Okay, if you say so.”

“Hmph.” She swallowed. “It’ss the alcohol’s fault, anyway.”

“Well… My sister told me there’s a saying in Italy that goes something like, ‘there is truth in wine...’”

“What’ss that supposed to mean?”

“Ohhhh, nothing~.”

“Bessides, I’m not drinking wine, it’s a… a… what is in thiss, actually?”

“I have it on good authority that it’s just one shot of shochu.”

“R-Really…?”

“Yeah. You’re just a lightweight, apparently.”

“I’m nnot a lightweiight.”

Mizuki responded to that with a deadpan look that could rival Ena’s best.

With a—friendly—pause in the conversation, they both turned their attention to finishing their food before it got cold.

A little while later, they’d finally finished eating, and it was time to leave. Recognizing Ena’s, uh, particular state, Mizuki had graciously gone to the counter to settle up without dragging her along.

When she returned, Ena was sitting in the booth, gazing off into the distance. Filling her stomach had only partially tempered the effects of the alcohol, apparently, so Mizuki had to tap her on the shoulder.

“Time to go, Enanan.”

“Eh? Oh, rright.”

Ena tried to stand up—and immediately collapsed back into the booth.

“E-Ena?” Mizuki asked, now sounding concerned instead of teasing.

“I-I’m okay… prrobably…”

She tried to stand up again, and this time managed to get out of the booth—as soon as she did, though, she started wavering dangerously.

“Wai—whoa, okay, okay.” Ena heard Mizuki’s voice, and the next thing she knew, one of Mizuki’s arms was supporting her back, preventing her from falling over. “Are you alright?”

“I’m not ssure,” Ena replied, face flushing an even deeper shade of red than before.

She was probably not okay, but Mizuki’s arm around her was definitely not making things better.

“Here, take my hand,” said Mizuki, extending her other hand toward Ena.

Ena cast a wary glance at the hand, then looked up at her friend’s face—Mizuki was smiling reassuringly, but her ears also seemed to be tinged a tiny bit crimson. Her eyes were so—friendly…

After a brief moment of hesitation, Ena decided to put her embarrassment aside, and grasped Mizuki’s hand.

“All right, let’s head out. Carefully, now.”

Mizuki removed her arm from Ena’s back and turned around. Ena steadied herself, leaning on Mizuki’s hand.

“Ready?” asked Mizuki.

“Mmm.”

Taking that as a “yes,” Mizuki started slowly leading Ena out of the restaurant.

Fortunately for everyone involved, and perhaps a bit miraculously, they made it out into the languid Shibuya air without making a scene. When they were a few steps away from the entrance, Mizuki turned around, still holding Ena’s hand.

Ena, however, was not looking at Mizuki—she was looking up.

“Ena…?”

“The starss are so beautiful…”

“Eh?” Mizuki glanced up at the sky, confused, then looked back at Ena. “Wh—What do you mean?”

It was a reasonable question. Maybe Ena couldn’t answer in her current state, but Mizuki could plainly see that there were no stars in the sky.

You can’t see any stars from the streets of Shibuya. Obviously.

“Gosh, you really are drunk.”

“I’m not thhat drunk, I’m jusst… You don’t ssee?” asked Ena, still gazing upward.

“Ahaha,” laughed Mizuki. “I see a bunch of offices and shopping centers and stuff with some lights on, but not quite stars. Oh, but—” She looked up again, waving a finger up at the buildings. “I guess those could be stars—for an artist like Ena, maybe.”

“Not ssure what that meanss, but ‘sprobably right.” Ena finally lowered her gaze and looked down at Mizuki. Her eyes were wide and glistening.

Looking up and down seemed to have scrambled her sense of balance even more than it already was, though, and she quickly started to wobble.

She focused on two new stars—Mizuki’s eyes, both sparkling with the cityscape’s kaleidoscope of lights.

“Sso… beautiful…” she muttered again.

Since she was still leaning on Mizuki’s hand for support, the two were quite close together. She tried to ground herself in Mizuki’s eyes, but found herself being drawn toward them, inexorably pulled forward until their faces were inches apart. Mizuki’s glittering eyes suddenly grew very wide.

Ena leaned—almost fell—forward.

Her lips brushed against Mizuki’s.

Then her head collapsed onto Mizuki’s shoulder. She was fast asleep.

Sitting on a bench a few meters from the restaurant, an around-30 woman slumped against her shoulder and drooling onto her very expensive jacket, Mizuki was happy to discover that Ena’s phone could be unlocked using her face.

What, it’s not like she was going to do anything malicious with it. Probably.

She just needed to make a quick call…

“Yaho~, lil bro!”

“Geh.”

“Hey, ‘geh’ is no way to greet someone you haven’t spoken to in years, is it?”

A few seconds of silence passed before the man on the other side of the line responded.

“…Who is this, again?”

“Oh, you’re being mean. It’s me, of course.”

“Is this some kind of ‘don’t you recognize me’ phone scam?”

“Ahaha. What, has old age turned you into a comedian, lil bro?”

“At least I’m not a 30-year-old who calls people ‘lil bro.’”

“So you did recognize me!”

“You’re the only person who’s ever called me that in my entire life, so, obviously.”

“Well, that makes me happy~”

“Don’t be.”

“Too late.”

“So… Guess I need to ask.” He sighed. “Akiyama… why do you have my sister’s phone?”

“Oh, various reasons...”

“I’m gonna hang up.”

“Wait! Calm down, I’m about to explain.” Guess he hasn’t changed that much, Mizuki thought. “Ena and I just had a super touching reunion in Shibuya, you see, and, well—”

“She made a fool of herself drinking and needs someone to pick her up?”

“How did you know!?”

“Well, despite everything, I am her little brother.”

“Has—has this happened before?”

Akito laughed hollowly. “Just a few times. My sister’s a total lightweight, but she gets caught up in social drinking whenever she bothers hanging out with real people.”

“I guess that sounds like her.” Mizuki glanced over at Ena’s sleeping face. “Still, I mean… even a lightweight shouldn’t have this much trouble with a single cocktail. I think she was pretty exhausted already.”

“Probably sleep-deprived.”

“You really do know her well!”

“Yeah. Even if I’d rather not.”

“That’s just siblings for you.”

“Hah.” A car engine started in the background, then he continued. “Could be worse, I guess—I could have you as a sister.”

Mizuki raised her eyebrows for a moment, then laughed.

“So you can say things that make me happy, lil bro!”

“That wasn’t a compliment…”

“I’ll take it as one anyway.”

“Suit yourself… Anyway, I’m driving over now. Should be there in 20-30 minutes. Text me the address.”

“Got it. I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“Thanks.”

“See you soon~”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Akito hung up.

Now there’s just one more thing I need to do to this phone before he gets here, Mizuki thought, opening the camera app with a mischievous look in her eye.

Chapter Text

“Hey there~”

…was the first thing Akito heard upon rolling down his car window. The voice emanating from the pink-haired woman on the bench was a little different from what he remembered—a little lower, a more feminine, even sultry, but still playful.

It must have taken some restraint not to immediately shoot back a “Geh.” Instead he replied, “Long time no see”—but his face still betrayed a measure of disgust.

He’d probably like to assure you that it wasn’t homophobia or anything, just good old-fashioned Shinonome hater behavior.

“Way too long, lil bro.”

Mizuki stuck out her tongue, then turned toward the other Shinonome sleeping on her shoulder.

“Enanan, still out cold?”

The only response she got was incoherent muttering and another gob of drool leaking onto her expensive jacket. Mizuki sighed, then put her arm under Ena’s shoulder.

“Oh, well. One, two… Three!”

On the last count, she tensed her meager abdominals and pushed both of them off the bench. Fortunately, Ena’s listless body maintained just enough awareness to not immediately fall back down—which probably would have floored them both like a pair of dominoes.

As they struggled toward the car, Mizuki called out, “Hey, lil bro, could you help me out a little? Maybe open the door or something?”

“Oh, right. Yeah.”

Realizing he’d been just kind of staring at Mizuki, Akito quickly put the car in park and got out.

“Thanks. I’m not as strong as I look.”

Akito opened the rear passenger door, casting a sidelong glance at Mizuki. “You know, ‘strong’ is definitely not an adjective I’ve ever associated with you.”

“Aww, that’s sweet.”

“Wasn’t intended as a compl—oh, whatever.”

“Ehehe.”

With some persuasion, Mizuki successfully coaxed Ena into the car and fastened her seatbelt. Closing the door, she found Akito raising his eyebrows at her.

“You two sure seem close for people who haven’t seen each other in a decade…”

Mizuki would prefer not to admit it, but her forehead got just a tiny bit red.

She looked away. “Oh… W-We’ve always been close, what do you mean?”

“Whatever,” Akito replied monotonously. “Well, it’s been good seeing you.”

“You too… wai, wait—”

Acknowledging the reply with only a brief nod of his head, Akito turned around and headed for the driver’s seat.

When he’d sat down and closed the door, he breathed a sigh of relief—only for that relief to be abruptly punctured.

“Hey, don’t run away from me!”

Pink-hair was sitting in the passenger’s seat, arms folded, looking simultaneously annoyed and pleased with herself.

This time, Akito didn’t even try to hide the look on his face.

“What the hell? You’re coming too?”

“Mhm!” hummed Mizuki, happily snapping her seatbelt into place.

“Did you not hear me say I’ve done this plenty of times before? I don’t need your help.”

Mizuki raised her eyebrows. “Girl, this car is almost as old as you are. Looks like you need help no matter where it comes from.”

“Listen, you,” began Akito—who soon found himself grinding his teeth, unable to come up with a good response.

“I’m listening?”

“…Shut up.”

“No.”

“What do you want from me…?”

“How about putting the car in drive?”

He reflexively put his hand on the gear, but then paused.

“…There’s nothing I can do about this, is there?”

“Nope!”

With a sigh of resignation, Akito yanked the car into drive and merged onto the road.

 Thirty seconds of silence passed. Just as Akito was starting to think that this experience might not be as bad as he was expecting, Mizuki’s singsong voice once again penetrated his ears.

“So, how are things with Toya-kun?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“So you are still together!”

“I’m not sure I like what you’re implying with that ‘together’…”

“Fufu,” Mizuki chuckled knowingly. “What did you assume I was implying?”

“Okay, I’m done.”

If he wasn’t currently behind the wheel of a large automobile, that would be the point he’d have turned heel and walked away. Unfortunately, at that moment, he was trapped.

“Don’t worry, lil bro. I of all people would be the last to criticize.”

“…I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Akito tried his best to focus his mind purely on the road.

“Oh, that reminds me,” said Mizuki, happily ignoring Akito’s objection, “did Ena show you the TV show I was on?”

“The what now?”

“Eh? She didn’t?”

“You were on TV?”

“Well, yeah.” Mizuki crossed her arms indignantly—she really hadn’t expected this level of obliviousness from Ena’s brother. “I’m pretty famous. Didn’t you know that?”

“Famous for what?”

“Hmph. Have you been living under a rock?”

Akito ran his hands over the wheel. “More like living for rock… if you know what I mean…”

“…”

Mizuki tried and failed to suppress a snort. “Lil bro…” she managed to get out before descending into a fit of giggles. “Sorry. I can’t.”

Half a minute passed before Akito interrupted her laughter with a sigh.

“Can’t have been that good.”

“Oh, no, I mean,” said Mizuki, catching her breath. “Just. Coming out of your mouth, you know.”

“What. People change.”

“I haven’t changed one bit!”

Akito finally took his eyes off the road—just for a second—to cast a severe sidelong glance at the woman next to him.

“You can’t be serious,” he declared matter-of-factly.

“Eh? What do you mean?”

The fact that Mizuki seemed to be asking earnestly, without any sarcasm, surprised him.

He exhaled audibly. “I know it’s hard to notice yourself changing since you, you know, see yourself every day, but—like—take it from someone who hasn’t seen you in nearly a decade, okay?”

“Take what, exactly?”

“Okay, never mind.”

“Oh, come on…”

Akito could tell that Mizuki had turned her head to look directly at him, but he kept his eyes looking straight ahead.

“Whatever face you’re making, it won’t work on me.”

“Bluh.”

“…”

“I just stuck my tongue out at you.”

“Yeah, I got that.”

“Damn, have you got Devilman eyes, lil bro?”

“Yeah, beam and everything.”

“Ahaha,” laughed Mizuki. “You know, I did miss you. Not quite as much as Ena, but still.”

“Really…?”

“And not quite as much as An, or Kanade, or Rui, or Maf—” She coughed. “You know who, anyway. But I still missed you.”

“Great…”

“Probably a little more than Toya-kun, I guess. Not by too much, though.”

Akito chose not to dignify any of that with a response.

Of course, his silence didn’t present much of a deterrence to his passenger, who broke it less than a minute later.

“So, got any interesting stories about your big sis?”

“…You do know she’s in the car, right?”

To that, Mizuki loudly asked no one in particular, “Hey, Ena! Your little bro is gonna tell me all your most embarrassing stories from your twenties! You’re okay with that, right?”

Ena’s only reply was a faint “Mrrblr.”

Akito drummed his fingers on the wheel. “Well, that means ‘no,’ so I’m not going to tell you anything.”

“Tch. You can translate that?”

“Yeah. Shinonome telepathy.”

Mizuki sighed. “Guess I’ll have to ask her directly, then.”

“Please do.”

“Something to talk about at our next date.”

“Wh—” Akito’s heart skipped a beat. “Next… date… seriously…?”

“Hehe.”

“What the hell is that, ‘hehe’…”

“Oh, nothing!”

“Seriously…” Akito muttered again.

The drive was nearly over, and he’d started allowing himself to be relieved that the unexpected reunion old pink-haired classmate was drawing to a merciful close. But it seemed that Mizuki would not be vanishing from Ena’s—and therefore his—life again anytime soon.

“Well. Anyway. Ena’s place is just past this turn, so I guess this is goodbye. For now.”

Akito tried to hold on to a small amount of hope.

But a wicked glint flashed across Mizuki’s eyes.

“What do you mean? You still have to drive me home, lil bro.”

If he hadn’t been driving, he’d have buried his face in his hands.

“I’ve got to bring you up to speed on my illustrious fashion career. Don’t worry; you can tell me all about your… activity… with Toya-kun too.”

…This time, he couldn’t suppress either the “Geh” or the look on his face.

Chapter Text

Finally, Ena couldn’t keep herself asleep, and her eyes slowly flickered open.

She blinked. Glancing at her bedside table, she could see it was almost noon.

Oh, dammit… She knew it was late, but she didn’t realize it was that late. When did she get home, again? After the whirlwind of meeting Mizuki, she couldn’t remember much of what happened in the later part of the evening, but it couldn’t have lasted too long. Did that mean she’d slept for over twelve hours?

Her sleep deficit had finally caught up with her, apparently.

Ena yawned, and sat up in bed. She could feel her hair frizzing wildly around her face. At least she’d probably already slept off any potential hangover from the prior night’s indiscretions.

Speaking of which, how did she end up getting home? She remembered leaving the restaurant with Mizuki, but after that—

Uh… after that…

Her mouth twitched, and her face suddenly turned four shades of crimson. She felt like burying herself in her pillows, but settled for her hands.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…”

She groaned.

…Then her stomach groaned too, briefly snapping her out of her embarrassment.

L-Let’s just make some tea and breakfast, for now, she thought. Hopefully that would take her mind off things. It was too early to think seriously about anything, anyway.

Setting aside the actual time of day, of course.

Besides, she’d been asleep for long enough that maybe the whole affair with Mizuki was just part of an elaborate dream. Really, why would Mizuki show up in her life again after all those years, out of the blue? The reverie of a sleep-deprived drunk would be a more convincing explanation for the events of last night.

Ena swung her legs over the side of the bed and stretched her arms, stifling another yawn. She made a critical mistake, though, when she reflexively checked her smartphone: lo and behold, she came face to face with a background image that was definitely not there yesterday.

Akiyama Mizuki.

The grinning face of Akiyama Mizuki, looking positively coquettish, replete with a peace sign, was staring back at her from her phone screen.

Maybe she could explain it away as an image she’d found online and placed there in an alcohol-induced stupor—were it not for the fact that in the corner of the picture, resting on Mizuki’s shoulder, no less, was the drooling head of Shinonome Ena.

Mizuki… what were you doing when I was asleep…? I mean, messing with my phone!?

Ena tried to get mad, but quickly found herself unable to suppress a smile widening across her face.

Honestly…

It was just the kind of thing Mizuki would have done back in high school.

After staring at the background image for several minutes longer that what anyone could consider “normal,” Ena put her phone back to sleep and, with a deep breath and a sigh, finally got up from the bed.

Tea time, tea time.

Ena shuffled into the kitchen and put the hot water on. Catching her reflection in the kettle, she noticed a dumb smile still plastered on her face.

She stuck her tongue out at the distorted image. Bluh.

Despite the meagre attempt at taking her mind off things, Ena couldn’t help thinking about last night. She must have been in quite a state to go off and do something so… bold and adventurous.

Gosh, she hoped Mizuki didn’t think she was that desperate… Not that Mizuki didn’t deserve any of the blame after that little stunt she pulled, on TV of all places.

Things had been going well until she started drinking, at least. Probably.

As she was making faces at herself in the kettle, she felt her phone vibrate. Taking it out (bashfully blinking at Mizuki’s impish face), she found a new message from her brother:

> you ok

“Hah?” Ena exhaled. What do you mean, “you ok.” Why wouldn’t I be okay. Why do you care? She hammered out a quick reply.

< yeah why??

She indignantly turned the screen off and went back to mewing at the kettle—only to realize less than a minute later the likely reason why Akito had sent that message, and felt a little chagrinned. Tsundere instincts aside, she was glad for the momentary distraction.

She hastily unlocked her phone again and scribbled out a followup message.

< thanks for driving me btw!!

Hopefully he didn’t see the first one without the second… After a few tense seconds, she was relieved to see “currently typing” pop up.

> just treat me to something

> like always

“Hmph,” she muttered. Who does he think he is…

The hot water chose that moment to be done heating up, so she put her phone down to pour a cup and stir in some tea. Taking a tentative sip, she was suddenly assailed by thoughts of Mizuki and her cat’s tongue, always having to wait a few minutes for hot drinks to cool down.

She sighed. Too much Mizuki on the mind lately…

Well, that calmed her down enough to not snap back at Akito.

< mustve been out pretty bad

< dont even remember calling you…..

This time, her brother’s “currently typing” came up right away. Oh dear. What did that mean…?

> no shit

> akiyama called me not you

> using your phone

> you were 100% useless

N… Not leaving any words on the table, are you…

Wait a minute—so that’s why Mizuki was messing with her phone! There was at least some kind of pretext, at least.

Obviously if Mizuki didn’t even have her current details saved, there’s no way she’d have Akito’s. So she would need to use Ena’s phone.

Loathe as she may be to admit it, Akito was active in the “alternative artist” scene, to the point where he and his… special friend even had a manager and an agency and everything. So it wouldn’t be totally out of the question for him to have made a connection with—what was Mizuki’s fashion company, or whatever, called again… Akiyama Worldwide, or something—before Ena did. It’s not like they hadn’t been close in high school.

Although, Ena had the impression that back then, Mizuki might have been keener to call them “friends” than her brother would be.

Anyway, it brought her some twisted relief to know those two hadn’t been communicating without her. For—perfectly normal reasons.

< i see……….

< did you talk to mizuki

Ena walked over to her couch and sat down to wait for Akito’s response. The midmorning sun was streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows of her fourth-floor apartment. It felt nice, for once—she usually spent her weekends with the blinds pulled shut, drawing feverishly in the dark.

> lmao

> I had to drive them home after you

Ah. Ena wondered what they talked about if they’d spent that much time in the car together, but didn’t think her brother would tell her… even if she asked. Nicely, even.

< your efforts are appreciated, sir……

> actually. you owe me 2 x

< yeah yeah…

She sipped her tea for a few more minutes, but Akito didn’t send any further responses. He wasn’t the type to have a lengthy conversation over text, after all.

Flipping idly through her phone, her eyes lingered for a moment on the icon for the Nightcord app. Even though it went defunct several years back, she’d never gotten around to properly deleting it.

She probably wouldn’t be able to, honestly. There was just too much old emotion wrapped up in that app.

That got her thinking, though. If Mizuki had called her brother using her phone, and had taken selfies and all that, did that mean she’d also… you know…

Just as her heart started thumping noticeably louder, another message notification flashed across the top of the screen. She swiped on it immediately, bringing up a brand-new chat window with…

She nearly spilled her tea.

“Oh, come on,” she said out loud, mouth contorting into a bemused squiggle.

> ENANANANAN

> °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

> you up??

—were the initial messages she’d received from, and I’m quoting now, “The world 1st KAWAII Akiyama MIZUKI-chan ✿♥‿♥✿”.

A person thirty (30) of god’s own years of age.

I can’t open this chat in public, can I,  she thought. Especially at work. The students would absolutely tear her to pieces.

Ena took a few deep breaths. She agonized for a little while over how to reply, but quickly determined it wasn’t worth it—the least she could do was not reply fast enough to seem desperate.

< good morning! Yes im up

< just having some tea…

> such a coincidence! me too!!

The response on Mizuki’s side was instantaneous. Guess she wasn’t worried about the same things.

Ena was about to start typing a reply, but more messages from Mizuki started flooding in before she her finger even touched the screen.

> also it’s not morning any more lol

> oh no… Ena’s gone back to Nightcord mode (>_<)

> it’s my fault… (>_<)

> come back to adult society Enanan… (>_<)

> guess it can’t be helped

> after what we did last night (✿˶’◡˘)♡

Wa-wait a minute!! How was she typing so quickly? And are those emoticons on speed dial or what!? *

Also—Ena’s face flushed red again—what do you mean, what we did last night?

She tried her best to get a word in edgewise.

< sor

< sorry about last night !!

> ahaha dw about it

> hopefully your drool comes off in the dry cleaning ♡( ◡‿◡ )

Another immediate response…

This old woman might be a faster texter than her teenage students.

Ena held her breath. She hoped Mizuki wasn’t too mad about the way the night had gone—she really had caused a lot of trouble for her old friend. (And for Akito, but who really cares.)

< I can uhhh

< pay for dinner at least…

> (;﹏;)

> Id never take a hard working teacher’s hard earned money…

< well… thats nice of you

< I feel bad though

> well in that case!

> I mean I was gonna ask anyway but still!

> how about we meet up again!

> next weekend?

> ◕‿↼)

Ena let out all the breath she’d been holding in.

She hadn’t dared to hope—well, she had dared to hope, but that was the problem, because it made her nervous—that Mizuki would be the one to “take responsibility” and ask her out again. That is to say, ask to meet again. Not on a date, necessarily. Why would you assume that.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she replied:

< ssure!

Of course, she didn’t have to wait long for a followup.

> awesome!!

> Ill send you the details later

> look forward to it ◕‿↼)

< thhis better not be haunted spot related!!!!

> hahaha

> still holding a grudge about that

> Enanans still scary…

Hmph…

After nearly a minute of searching, Shinonome Ena (31 years old) finally found the appropriate emoticon and laboriously pasted it into the app.

< im normal thank you

< ​(◕ᴗ◕✿)

To that, Akiyama Mizuki (30 years old) simply replied:

> of course you are my dear

> (◕‿◕)♡

…Suddenly overwhelmed by both cringe and an altogether indescribable sense of affection, Ena put her phone down and rubbed her eyes.

“Ahhhhhhhhh,” she groaned.

Then her stomach groaned too, just as loud, and she remembered she was supposed to be making breakfast.

Hah…

The “second meeting with Mizuki” turned out to be way easier to achieve than expected. This time, she wouldn’t screw up—at least, not as badly as last night… not that it would be hard to improve on getting drunk, attempting to kiss someone you hadn’t seen in years out of the blue, ruining an expensive jacket, and passing out.

Chapter Text

“Shinonome-sensei.”

No sooner had Ena sat down at her desk in the staff room than a stern, male voice rudely interrupted her quiet Monday morning—like a big rock dropped into a pool of still water.

“Whuh!?”

Reacting gutterally, she spun around to find herself face to face with the wizened old head of the school’s art department. Which, since she was an art teacher, naturally made him her boss.

She hastily calmed herself down. “G-Good morning, Saitou-sensei.”

“Good morning,” he replied coldly. “You missed the art faculty meeting on Friday without a note or any message. Would you like to explain?”

Shit.

In all the chaos around Mizuki that evening, she’d completely forgotten about it.

“Ah, ahaha, well. Something came up… I apologize…”

“Something more important than a meeting that only happens once every three weeks?”

He wasn’t letting up.

Did you really have to do this first thing in the morning…? thought Ena.

Besides, it’s not like anything truly important happened at those meetings. They were usually just lectures from Saitou about how today’s students were being corrupted by the internet, smartphones, social media and the like. As a social media addict herself, Ena mostly let it go in one ear and out the other.

(Former social media addict, that is. She’d deleted or privated all the selfies she’d posted as a teenager—imagine if her colleagues, or worse, her students found them. She’d have to flee the city… maybe even the whole island of Honshu.)

“It was a sudden… um, family emergency… type thing. I should have sent a message, I’m sorry.”

Saitou took a deep breath, then let out a long sigh of disapproval.

“Be more careful in the future. And you can talk to Tanaka-sensei or Yoshida-sensei for the meeting notes.”

“I’ll do that. Thank you.”

With only a grunt in response, the old man turned his back and left Ena alone.

She breathed a sigh of relief, but the aftereffects of the scolding lingered in the air. Now she had to prepare for classes in a sour mood—not a fun prospect.

Well, getting scolded is better than getting fired…

That’s what she told herself every time this sort of thing happened. Probably not the best outlook to have as a working adult, but as she’d like to remind you, teaching at a high school wasn’t her primary career choice anyway.

Although, after nearly seven years of doing it, it was getting harder to convince people that it was “temporary.” Including herself, if she was being honest.

In any case, after glumly plodding through her morning preparations, Ena slouched into her first class of the day just before the students began to arrive. She really shouldn’t have let Saitou put her in a bad mood after the veritable whirlwind of high spirits she’d spent the weekend in, but Monday mornings have a funny way of dampening even the best of circumstances.

She checked her phone—no new messages from Mizuki. Maybe she was still asleep?

No, if this were their high school days, maybe, but now she was a proper member of society, right…?

Ena found herself hoping Mizuki didn’t skip out on work as much as she’d skipped school back then.

Some time later, in Shibuya…

“Oh, Mizuki-san, you’re in today? That’s rare for a Monday.”

“But of course I am, Yui-chan!” said the aforementioned “proper member of society,” beaming ear to ear as she hung up her coat. “How could I stay home, after everything that happened this weekend? I’d have nobody to spill tea with. Nope, today I’m at the office all day!”

“You say that, but it’s 10:30—so ‘all day’ is already out of the picture, I’m sorry to say.”

“Don’t sweat the small stuff, Yui-chan.”

Yui raised her eyebrows. “Are you planning to stay until 6:30 tonight, then?”

“Of course not,” Mizuki replied proudly. “‘Going home on time’ is the company motto, after all.”

Yui raised her eyebrows even further.

“I believe the company motto has something to do with giving everyone the freedom to express who they truly are inside, or thereabouts.”

“And giving everyone the freedom to go home at 5:00 PM. I just added that part.”

Sighing in surrender, Yui rubbed her eyes.

“…You really are in good spirits this morning, Mizuki-san. Did something good happen?”

Mizuki, who’d been walking past Yui’s desk toward her own at the front of the office, stopped and looked back over her shoulder with a feline grin on her lips.

“You wanna know?”

“You’re going to tell me anyway, right?” said Yui impassively.

“Correct!” Mizuki let out a loud chuckle, turning around. “Actually, I love your hair today, Yui-chan.”

Taken aback, Yui blushed a faint shade of red.

“Th-Thank you?”

“Mm! Those braids with the bob are pretty cute. Reminds me of Ena.”

“…Ena?” Yui passed a hand over the back of her head, thinking. “Oh, that woman from Friday?”

“Hang on. You can’t just call Ena ‘that woman from Friday.’”

“Uh… how about ‘that person you made the weird callout to in that interview a while back’?”

“At least say it was a cute callout, gosh.”

Mizuki sighed theatrically, then started walking toward her desk again. However, she only made it around three steps before spinning around to talk excitedly at Yui again.

“I think Ena tried to kiss me.”

“Hah?”

“I know, right?”

“Were you two—like—”

“Mmm.” Mizuki shook her head. “Actually, we hadn’t seen each other in years.”

“Really? And she still—I mean, are you sure she’s… all right…?”

Yui tentatively pointed at her head.

“Oh, I’m sure she’s… managing,” said Mizuki. “Though to be fair to her, she was a little tipsy.”

“E-Even then, doing something like that is a little, you know—improprietous…”

“‘Improprietous,’ lmao.”

“Don’t say ‘lmao’ out loud, please.”

Mizuki guffawed. “Ahaha, you’ve got to loosen up a little, Yui-chan.”

“Hmph. Somebody around here has to make up for how slovenly the boss is.”

“Now you’re calling your boss ‘slovenly’…”

Seeing Mizuki (pretend to be) offended, Yui immediately started talking very quickly. “Ah, um, just to clarify, I meant ‘slovenly’ in terms of behavior, not appearance, in terms of appearance you’re always a literal goddess, Mizuki-san, please don’t misund—”

“Th-That’s fine, I’m not mad,” interrupted Mizuki, bemused.

“J-Just making sure…”

“Ahaha, you’re so cute, Yui-chan! I couldn’t ask for a cuter little kouhai.”

“I-I’m not… that…”

Yui looked down, blushing.

“Anyway, back to Friday night.”

“R-Right.”

Mizuki proceeded to recount in minute detail the events of her reunion with Ena, taking full advantage of the captive audience that was her unfortunate assistant. The only part she left out was the rendezvous with Akito at the end—just because Yui would’ve asked to be introduced to him, and she knew that couldn’t possibly end well.

When the report was finally over, Yui tilted her head and sighed.

“Sounds like you had quite the evening,” she said monotonously.

Mizuki nodded happily.

“Mmmmm! Well, what did you get up to on Friday night, then?”

Yui pursed her lips, glancing down at the floor. “Another date…”

“Oh? How’d it go?”

“Another… failure…”

“I-I see…” Mizuki gingerly walked behind Yui’s desk and patted her on the shoulder. “I’m sure it’ll work out eventually.”

Instead of reacting to Mizuki’s half-assed consolation, Yui’s eyes were now staring boreholes into the floor.

“Did you know, Mizuki-san. It’s been three years since I came out and I haven’t had a single boyfriend since,” she half-mumbled. “Maybe a couple of those years can be written off for… reasons… but it was never this hard before… is it possible it’s all over for me…?”

What’s brought this on, all of a sudden, thought Mizuki, before realizing the reason all of two seconds later. Oh, yeah, probably me gushing about my evening with Ena.

“You’ve dated loads of people since coming out, right, Mizuki-san… must be nice…”

Maybe I should’ve stayed home today…

“W-Well,” Mizuki said hesitantly, “I’ve been out for a lot longer than you, after all. It’s way too early to give up on, uh, stuff… trust me!”

Yui looked up. “But aren’t we similar ages?”

“Oho, looking to flatter me, now?”

“S-Surely you can’t be that much older…”

“Heh heh. You may not believe me, but I’ve got three whole decades under my belt.”

“Oh, wow…”

Yui seemed honestly impressed. Impressed enough to take her mind out of the depressed dating-related spiral she’d been sinking into.

“By the way, Ena is 31.”

“Well, that makes sense.”

Sorry, Enanan…

Mizuki felt bad for cheering up her coworker by making Ena catch a few strays—but, hey, it’s nothing the old woman couldn’t handle. Besides, imagining Ena’s reaction if she’d actually been here to hear that was highly amusing.

Elsewhere, around that time…

“Bless you?” said Yaguchi-kun, looking up from his canvass.

Apparently, Shinonome-sensei had sneezed. Maybe Mizuki was talking about her… The thought made her a little bit excited.

“Nnh,” she grunted in response, not looking up from her desk. The desk, or rather, the phone on the desk, which had yet to display a single new message from Mi—uh, anyone.

“‘Nnh’,” Yaguchi mimicked. “You seem a little distracted, sensei…”

“Ehh, I’m normal (◕ᴗ◕✿),” Ena protested, glancing up to see her student walking toward her desk.

“Pretty sad that looking at your phone all class is ‘normal’ for a teacher, isn’t it?”

Ena folded her arms. “Hmph. And are you finished with your assignment, Yaguchi-kun?”

“Oh, just about.”

“Just about? If there’s something you’d like help with, let me know…”

“Now that you mention it, maybe there is something,” he said, leaning closer. “Mikami and I were talking about our next project for art club, and we were thinking maybe… designing clothes?”

“Hm?” Ena tilted her head. “Clothes?”

“Weren’t you saying how fashion is another type of art?”

“W-Well, yeah, but for the designing part—” Reflexively, Ena glanced at her phone. “—You shouldn’t talk to me, you should talk to Mizu… ki…”

“Aha! So it is Akiyama Mizuki that’s got you acting weird…er than usual!”

Yaguchi brandished a pointed finger in her face. So it was a trap, huh.

“Wai—um—”

“There’s definitely something between the two of you, isn’t there. Ahh, is it finally time for sensei’s sordid past to come to light?”

He sounded, and looked, rather pleased with himself.

Ena sighed. “We were—we’re just—friends, that’s all. Why don’t you go back to your seat, Yaguchi-kun?”

“That’s not how ‘just friends’ would react to something like that, you know,” he whispered, fox-like grin still plastered on his face. “Not to mention the whole, ‘waiting for a text message like a soldier’s wife waiting for news from the war’ thing.”

“What have you been reading?”

“Literature is another type of art, isn’t it?”

“Okay, Yaguchi-kun. Let’s go back to your seat and take a look at your assignment together, shall we?”

“Of course, of course.”

Ena stood up—finally putting her phone out of sight. She needed to act teacher-ish sometimes, she reasoned, otherwise she’d only generate more Yaguchis.

“And, by the way,” she whispered to him as they were walking, “‘Waiting for news from the war,’ that’s way too depressing.”

“How about ‘sailor’s wife waiting for her beloved to come back from the sea?’ That’s more… romantic.”

To that, the 31-year-old blushed for a moment, then stuck out her tongue at her student.

Some time later, back in Shibuya…

“…and you’re so right, that’s a fabulous idea, sis! I’ll get Yui-chan on that right now. Anyway, see you at the expo next month! Love you! Mwah!”

Hearing her boss hang up the phone, Yui sighed.

When the boss and the bigger boss—that is, the Akiyama siblings—talked on the phone, it usually meant things were proceeding with the business, but she had a funny feeling that this particular call would result in some “unrelated” work being dumped on her plate.

“So, Yui-chan—”

“Mizuki-san,” interrupted Yui, “I would like to remind you that we have several deadlines coming up for that expo you were just talking about.”

“Oh, you heard all that~?” said Mizuki playfully.

“Of course. My desk is right here.”

“Ahh, right. Heh. Anyway… I just need you to do one little thing…”

“…What is it?”

“It’s totally fine if it doesn’t work out, but… Just do your best to get a certain agency on the phone, okay?”

“Which agency?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. That didn’t seem too unusual a request.

“It’s a bit outside our field, actually. They don’t do modeling or design, they do—music.”

Yui’s eyebrows drooped back down.

“…Your wish is my command, Mizuki-sama.”

“Thanks, Yui-chan! You’re the best!”

“Only if you stay until six today.”

Without looking over, she heard Mizuki’s breath catch in her throat—followed by a sad, muffled “fine.”

Chapter Text

The fading hues of sunrise met Ena at, of all places, the foot of a mountain—to be more specific, the head of a trail.

She yawned. At this time on any other Saturday morning, she’d still be snuggled up in bed. Normally, nobody could have convinced her to do something as normie-coded as getting up early to hike a forest trail—she could imagine her brother’s smarmy face saying “You really need the exercise, old lady”—nobody, that is, except the person she was about to meet up with.

Akiyama Mizuki, of course.

She’d been in a half-awake stupor her whole way there, but Mizuki’s name popping into her head made her heart suddenly beat faster. Dammit, the strenuous physical activity hasn’t even started yet; gotta keep the heart rate down…

That said, it wasn’t exactly a difficult trail. Mizuki’s original plan was for them to do this at night and go looking for ghosts—Ena had flatly refused, of course, but you wouldn’t do a serious hike at night, right?

Ena glanced at her phone. Fortunately, there were still about 45 minutes before they were supposed to meet. No danger of a sudden Mizuki appearing—plenty of time to mentally prepare.

No escaping the fact that she’d arrived 45 minutes early, though. She could just hear the Mizuki in her head saying, “Wow, that’s a little desperate, even for Enanan…”

As if to banish the little devil from her imagination, she waved her hands frenetically in front of her.

(No one else was hanging around the trailhead, at least, to see her acting like a crazy person.)

Even without Mizuki’s hypothetical teasing, though, Ena still needed to find some excuse for being so early—just to save face, if nothing else.

She took a deep breath, then glanced at her surroundings. There was something about the lingering shades of dawn filtering through the trees, the moon still faintly looming in the sky—et cetera. You get the picture. Ena didn’t get out much—she means, she didn’t touch grass much—ahem; she means, she didn’t often leave her urban confines for the natural world, but this was the sort of thing an artist would probably take inspiration from.

And she was, in fact, an artist.

Oh, that’s perfect. I’ll do some sketching!

Looking very pleased with herself indeed, Ena sat down on one of the stone benches, and rummaged through her backpack for the small sketchbook she kept with her for just this sort of situation—though it had been quite a while since it had gotten much use. She’d hate to admit it to Yukihira-sensei, but she’d mostly been using her tablet and computer the past few years for her work. Most of her physical art had been limited to instructional material for her students.

Still, sketching some trees and whatnot with a pencil shouldn’t be too taxing. And it would be a nice little gift for Mizuki when she arrived.

“……”

Her first few attempts, however, quickly wiped that smug smile off her face.

Maybe framing the endeavor as a gift to Mizuki wasn’t such a good idea. Really ups the pressure…, she thought, checking her phone. Her heart skipped a beat—new message from Mizuki!

> [elaborate, sparkly “good morning” stamp]

> on my way now~

Ena took a deep breath. There was still a while before their scheduled meeting time. For a moment, she considered lying and saying she was on her way too—would at least potentially get her out of having to present an unsatisfactory sketch—but she gritted her teeth and resolved to do things properly.

< Im actually here already

< just wanted to do some sketches…

> wowow, so artist-esque! (✪‿✪)ノ

> looking forward to seeing it~

< (◕‿◕✿)

< looking forward to seeing you too!!

> :)

Wh-What’s with that normal smiley face…

She put down her phone and wrested her focus back to the sketchbook.

Several minutes of furious concentration later, she was finally satisfied with the lighting and shading—she’d forgotten how finnicky even simple pencil drawings could be—and was just about to put on some finishing touches when a voice startled her from behind.

“That’s beautiful, young lady.”

Ena panicked for a second, but that definitely wasn’t Mizuki’s voice. She turned around to find an elderly-looking man peering over her shoulder, smiling.

“Oh, don’t go making trouble, dear,” said an elderly woman standing nearby—presumably his wife.

“I-It’s no trouble at all,” said Ena, quickly standing up and giving a slight bow. “Thank you for the compliment.”

And for calling me “young lady,” she thought to herself (trying and failing not to seem like a stereotypical around-thirty woman).

“Are you an artist, my dear?” the man asked, eyeing her sketchbook.

Her face brightened.

“Well, I’m… Yes, yes I am! Oh, one sec—” She rummaged in her bag for a moment, then pulled out a small box of business cards and offered one to the man. “I mainly work digitally, but here are my details…”

The old man raised his eyebrows. Suddenly, she felt super embarrassed, and her face started turning red. Oh, god...

She’d never actually handed someone a business card in real life.

Fortunately, after the smallest of delays, the old man took the card and chuckled.

“Well, we don’t use the inter-net very much, but maybe the grandkids could help,” he said, pocketing the card.

“Alright, you, let’s get going.” His wife sounded a little impatient. She looked at Ena. “Sorry about that, dear.”

“Not at all!” Ena said, smiling. “Hope you have a good hike.”

The elderly woman smirked. “Hike? This is a glorified walk. It’s all we can do at our age.”

“Ah—hahaha…” Ena laughed awkwardly—then the couple ambled away, slowly, into the woods. She immediately collapsed back onto the bench, waiting for her heart rate to slow back down after the unexpected little incident.

“Glorified walk,” huh. Guess Mizuki really doesn’t have a high opinion of my physical capabilities, she thought ruefully. Probably for the best, though, if we’re being honest…

Gosh, maybe she had turned into Kanade in her old age.

She hoped the real Kanade had started taking better care of herself—well, surely she had, otherwise she’d have burned herself to a crisp by age 25.

Anyway. She cast a critical glance over her sketch, and started making some small corrections. It really was a nice piece—even in monochrome, the viewer would get a good sense of the sunrise. Or—sunset. Whichever. The light and shadows really contrasted perfectly with the girl in the middle of the clearing, her bangs and side-drawn ponytail fluttering in the light breeze—

Hold on. She squinted at her sketch, then promptly dropped it on her knees and put her face in her hands. How did I not realize I was drawing Mizuki…

Ah, the consequences of thinking about her so much.

Could you really blame Ena, though? This was a date, after all.

Or, well, uh, maybe it was a date. They hadn’t officially called it a date, right? Yeah. She definitely would’ve remembered if the word “date” had been used, considering how feverishly she’d been checking their message log.

“Oh, is that Ena?” Another voice—certainly not from the elderly couple—suddenly cut in from behind her. “You really were early. Guess someone was pretty excited for our date.”

“…………”

For a moment, Ena could do nothing but stare blankly into the void.

“Going on a date with Mizuki” sure wasn’t on my [current year] bingo card, chortled the millennial in her mind, dissociatively.

“D-D-Date, um, haha, that’s, uh,” she mumbled.

“Ooooy, Ena.”

The voice was closer now, and she saw a hand wave in front of her.

Finally, Ena snapped out of it, and looked around to see Mizuki, replete with that bemused expression she’d seen so much.

Her outfit was a bit less “fashionable” than what she’d been wearing the last time they met—though Ena supposed that was understandable given the impending hike—consisting of a darkly colored, loose-sleeved shirt tucked into short brown shorts that flared out at the bottom. Still, the ensemble looked rather stylish—there were some artsy-looking cuts in the sleeves of the shirt, for instance, and instead of Ena’s little utilitarian backpack, she was hoisting a fashionable-looking handbag over her shoulder.

That’s not to say Ena hadn’t put effort into her appearance—this was a date, after all—but she kind of felt like an ordinary person going up against a fashion professional.

Well. That’s exactly what it was.

“M-Mizuki, good morning,” she said, trying to pretend that little mumbling moment didn’t happen.

“Morning,” replied the pink-haired woman. “Ooh, is that what you’ve been drawing?”

“Oh, yeah!” Ena stood up. “This is—I mean, I wanted to give this to you.”

“Oho? That’s so kind of you.” Mizuki smiled. “Let’s do a little trade, then… Not saying this is equal or anything, but I bought us lattes on the way.”

Now that she mentioned it, Ena noticed she’d been carrying one of those cardboard drink trays in her other hand; Mizuki held the tray out to her.

“Wah, thank you!” Ena took one of the drinks, then handed over her sketch.

“You’re very welcome.”

“Is this from that new place that just opened by the station?” she asked, eyeing the label on the cup.

“Of course! That little puppy mascot looked super cute, so I couldn’t pass it up.”

“Ahaha. Still saying stuff like that at your age?” she ribbed.

“I mean, no matter how old you are, puppies are still cute, right?”

“That is true…”

They shared a chuckle. Mizuki tossed the drink tray into a nearby bin, deftly swapping Ena’s sketch into her other hand. She then straightened the piece of paper out and carefully looked it over.

Ena tried to read Mizuki’s face for any hints of approval—or, gods forbid, disapproval.

“Wow, this is amazing,” she said after a few tense seconds (well, tense for Ena, who breathed a sigh of relief).

“Th-Thanks…”

“I’ve seen tons of your digital art, but it feels like I haven’t seen something you drew with an actual pencil in ages.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s probably been like… nearly a decade, I think?”

“Damn.” Mizuki’s mouth contorted into a squiggle for a moment, as if that fact made her feel conflicted—maybe a combination of guilt and god, we’re fucking ancient. “And you’ve got all those followers online, too. So this feels pretty special.”

“Ah, haha, it’s not—”

It’s not that special, no need for the glazing, as my kids say, Ena had thought, but then she remembered the occasion.

“—I mean, maybe it is a bit special…”

She looked down, slightly embarrassed to have actually said that.

Mizuki laughed. “I’ll have to frame it and put it up somewhere… Having such lovely art of myself on my desk would be very fashionable, actually.”

Ena tapped her fingers together bashfully.

“So you did notice…”

“That this girl is me from high school? Pretty hard not to recognize the hairstyle I was looking in the mirror at every day for three years, you know.”

“Oh, please. You did not go out every day for three years.”

“Hey, even if I didn’t go out, I could’ve still done my hair. Gotta look good for everyone in Niigo, right?”

“Well, fine, but I definitely remember you wearing your hair down on at least one particular occasion.”

“Oh? You have a good memory, Ena.”

“And you were wearing a dress just like the one I drew, and it was fluttering in the wind, and you were—you were—”

Ena coughed. She’d gotten a little choked up all of a sudden.

For her part, Mizuki simply sighed, shifting her gaze between Ena and the drawing in her hand.

“Did that really happen? I wonder.”

Ena breathed in and out, deeply, then looked up at Mizuki with a wry smile.

“Who knows?”

“Well, if we get to any especially scenic-looking trees on this hike, I could always let my hair down and do some modeling for you so we can recreate it.”

Oh, man, that would be way too embarrassing.

“Hmph. Miss Big Shot here wants two free sketches, huh.”

“O-One for each date?” Mizuki offered.

“You can’t put it like that!” Ena shot back, then immediately covered her mouth—she hadn’t intended to say that out loud.

Mizuki raised her eyebrows. “I—I mean, I’m sorry…”

“Oh, no no no no, I just meant—like—”

She suddenly started to panic. Oh no, please, not me and my big mouth again…

“I get it, I get it,” said Mizuki, holding her hands up in a conciliating gesture—fortunately, she didn’t seem put off by Ena’s little outburst. “I shouldn’t poke too much fun at Ena. When she’s not drunk, that is.”

“Aha, sorry…”

“Well, anyway!”

Mizuki carefully inserted Ena’s drawing into her bag, then tilted her head at the start of the trail.

“Shall we get hiking?”

“O-Oh, yeah, right.” Ena slung her backpack over her shoulder, and they started heading toward the forest. “Though, apparently it’s more of a ‘glorified walk,’ according to an elderly couple that came by before…”

“Whoa, well, at my age, anything hilly in the woods is a hike,” said Mizuki, sarcastically slapping her—slim and rather toned-looking belly. (Not that Ena cared. Or noticed.)

“Hah. And you wanted to do this at night.”

“Hehe, don’t worry, I’m sure we can find a few haunted spots to see even during the day.”

“Don’t you dare.” Ena furrowed her brows.

Mizuki started walking away, looking over her shoulder with exaggerated fear in her eyes. “Wah, Enanan can be scarier than a ghost sometimes…”

“You’re not getting away from me that easily,” said Ena, quickly closing the gap.

They shared another laugh, and with that, they walked side by side into the woods.