‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. ⋆
fireworks were always brighter when we were together.
Mafuyu did not have a passion.
It wasn’t something she ever cared about. Her mother always preached that passions took time away from one's true goals in life. And it wasn’t like she had many of those either. Mafuyu was vague when she answered; elusive when asked about her plans for the future. "I'm going to medical school," was the mantra she told every peer in a disarmingly innocent way.
In her seventeen years of life, she learned that people feigned their interest, and with a quick, short explanation, she tended to rid them of curiosity.
And what was the point anyway? Her entire existence depended on whether she passed the entrance exams, and then her mother would take care of the rest. There was nothing she found passionate about her studies.
Yes, of course, she was part of the archery club, but it wasn’t because she liked it. A sliver of her conscience knew she joined out of obligation. Her mother was only looking out for her; she wasn’t as strict as her friends thought. Mafuyu was lucky that she was allowed to attend extracurricular activities in the first place, even if they were just a facade to keep her obedient. She was not that naive.
No. Mafuyu hated archery. She didn’t go to the club because of ambition. She only needed it to meet educated peers and create connections who enriched her culturally and challenged her academic prowess.
People who were completely opposite to Kanade.
Mafuyu didn’t tend to admit it, but Kanade was the only reason she went through with life. Her mind still remembered the flames that blazed through her chest when she heard one of her songs for the first time. It was one of the few times she believed someone finally understood her, and that's why she found the courage to compose a song with the same effect as Kanade's. She tried to replicate it with OWN; that fiery feeling that made her understand that she was not the only one who suffered and that there were more people like her.
But Mafuyu learned it was impossible to achieve it by herself.
After she told Niigo she found her true feelings, long after she said in SEKAI that her greatest wish was to disappear, they all reacted carefully, walking on eggshells in case they said the wrong thing around her. However, Mafuyu had been so close to happiness and closure that she didn’t care about anything else except her friends. She still remembered how Mizuki smiled when harmonizing the song created from Mafuyu's emotions, the way Ena tried to mask her tears by wearing a vexed front, and Kanade—
Kanade’s pale hand reached out to hold hers, a small gesture that didn’t go unnoticed amidst the music, and gifted her a smile that made something coil inside her lungs, something that grew even more intensely than when she was with the group. A feather-light touch, fingers curling hesitantly around hers, "You are not alone anymore, Mafuyu."
Those words brought her to an emotion resembling relief, her eyes stinging with the dawn of tears; she had to grip that hand to stay upright. Mafuyu blinked at their entwined fingers, then peered into her friend’s hyacinth eyes, dumbfounded. Her heart always fluttered when she remembered how Kanade ceased her smiling to stare at her with a furrowed brow.
Mafuyu's mind had gone curiously blank that day, but she needed to see that smile again. It was a scorching sensation, a needy ache that expanded along with the need to hoard that heat-like water that might slip through her fingers. Somehow, she replied, "No, we're not," and in that moment—that one, single second; it was true.
She never did stop replaying that scene in her mind like a worn-out videotape, the desire to keep the warmth emanating from Kanade burning.
In retrospect, that had probably been the beginning. And the end.
𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸
Even if Mafuyu’s recollection of events remained fuzzy most of the time, a part of her acknowledged that she used to smile before.
By day, she pushed those thoughts away. She did her homework; and attended cram school. They would consume her later; for now, she needed to focus. Some memories had been crucial to getting to the point she was at then, and they were the only ones that had not yet turned into nightmares.
But at night, when she dreamed of smiling, she woke up with the cloying stench of amaranth, a stinging, suffocating ghost pain of thorn-filled vines around her windpipe, and the pungent taste of roses on the tip of her tongue. And yet, she decided to fall asleep again, if only to keep that odd feeling they gave her alive.
𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸
Mafuyu and Kanade became friends before they met in SEKAI. They had known each other for a long time, speaking on Nightcord at midnight sharp. Or rather, listening to Ena and Mizuki argue for most of the evening. It was annoying at times, wanting to work on new songs but threading around the possibility that they would end up talking about mundane, everyday things that frankly left Mafuyu with the desire to rip every concord strand out of her scalp and toss them inside the trash.
Her seat creaked from under her, and she still didn't say a word.
Mafuyu had a tough time understanding why people willingly decided to waste time instead of getting to work. Miku said that's what friends are for, and while she did enjoy spending time with the other members of Niigo, Kanade's demo still wasn't done after a week, and that was enough time to spare, especially with her practice exams so close by.
"Shut up, Akito!" a door slammed shut, almost cutting off the call, and an unknown voice groaned from Ena's screen. "How many times do I have to tell you I'm the better cook!"
"I don't know, Enanan," Mizuki added with a hint of hesitation in their voice, "Your brother makes delicious pancakes… way softer than yours." A groan, "You shut your mouth, Amia! As far as I know, you weren't invited to this conversation!"
"Well, it's hard not to when you're yelling two feet from the screen…."
If Mafuyu had a brother, she would have agreed with him and moved on. Why waste her breath with a meaningless discussion? It wouldn't be the end of the world if she lost the argument over something that meant nothing. But Ena wasn't the same as her; Ena was defiant, and it was evident that she didn't like to lose, much less when it came to Akito and Mizuki. Today was one of those days where Ena refused to keep her mouth shut, of course, and she wouldn't let it go that easily.
Mafuyu envied that about her. Even though dealing with Ena was a pain the majority of the time, and most days, she had to find many ways not to offend her, just to avoid awakening the monster, she thought it was an admirable quality to have. Her passion and her pride knew no bounds.
And well, the more she listened to Ena, the more she tensed up. It was ridiculous to take notice of the different emotions she was capable of hoarding inside. Mom, Ena, and Mizuki made her feel things, even though none were the same.
"Honami…"
Kanade's voice sailed through her bedroom, relaxing her body completely, and the sensation was so strange that she had to shut her eyes and take a deep breath before saying anything.
The silent anger that ate through her body had completely dissipated, and she didn't have the strength to continue trembling. She found it curious how Kanade was the only one who could make her snap. When it came to Kanade, the emotions from Ena, Mizuki, and Mom were amplified to extreme levels. It was like she could make her experience all of them at once.
Mafuyu smiled to herself, bright and beatific. It was something she usually did at school not to look disinterested. Ena often commented on how creepy her face got when she did this. She said it showed her straightforwardness, lack of tact, and bluntness when asked for feedback. She didn't usually give much thought to it until they started working together. To call her straightforward was not a bad thing, per se, but Ena and Mizuki tended to differ. Plus, there was no reason to make such a face now. No one was judging her from behind the screen.
But she still did it, only for Kanade to hear her grin.
"Did you say something, Kanade?"
"Oh, it's," she trailed off, awe filling her voice, "I was thinking."
There was silence for a minute. Even Ena and Mizuki fell silent upon hearing Kanade. And knowing them, both probably felt guilty for arguing.
"Honami makes the best pancakes."
The way she mumbled, soft and barely breathing, made it sound almost inaudible; in a little girl's way, whispering about a crush in her class.
Mafuyu whipped her head towards the chat with wide eyes. A prickle crawled up her spine, and she swallowed nervously. Her heart skyrocketed, a feeling unlike anything she could name. It was much more gut-wrenching, something that made Mafuyu want to curl up into a ball and clamp her hands over her ears. Squeeze her eyes shut to block out the world. It was awful, vile, horrible. It was beyond her comprehension.
"You're always thinking about Mochizuki," Ena griped, chortling. "You really care about her, hm?"
"Yeah, with how much you talk about her, it sounds like you've been married for twenty years!"
"Married…?"
For some reason, Kanade's question nearly forced her to crush the computer mouse with her bare hands. It was strange whenever that happened. Mafuyu wasn't one to sense things; it wasn't worth it. But still, her chest tightened. Just the thought of Kanade getting married to someone who wasn’t her…
Why did it make her so miserable?
"That sounds nice."
Somewhere far, far below the surface, Mafuyu could feel something within herself shut down. She could almost hear it: an earthen, heavy thud, like a cellar door shutting, enclosing something horrible deep inside the soil and stone. In the distance, Kanade's words echoed and reverberated. “That sounds nice.” Over and over, until they became nothing more than a jumble of noise.
It was almost enough to make Mafuyu sick.
𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸
There used to be a time when her mother’s presence was comforting:
Mafuyu lay in her bed limp, pale, and nauseous. Her mouth remained shut—taut as if it would tear apart at the slightest cough. A cold tremor ran through her body, and she had to hide in the fleece blanket to find some warmth somewhere inside. "M-mommy…"
Each word coming out of her rattled like wind running through an abandoned house; from each exhalation came a breathless sigh, like a puff of breath in the winter sky. Her eyes seldom came into focus, and her mother became a mere shadow looming over her.
"You're burning up, Mafuyu! Let's get you into some new pajamas, okay?"
Watching her mother mess up her room that day filled Mafuyu with guilt; sin. She was sick but still didn't want to see her mother upset. The worried lines on her face told her everything she needed to know, and she couldn't help but feel grief for her mother.
"I'm sorry for today," she mumbled aloud, then coughed. "I know you're busy with your neighborhood association, but because of me…."
"Hehe, what are you saying? It's not your fault you caught a cold, Mafuyu!"
Her mother ducked her head, and her lips curved gently upward, but it was far too short to be a smile. "You need to rest up after you change clothes, okay?" She murmured, "So you can show me your beautiful grin again."
Beautiful grin... when was that? The only thing she wanted when dreaming of these moments was to keep the flame alive, to have some semblance of emotion. Mafuyu couldn't be bothered to remember when things used to be good.
"Okay…"
Why was it so demanding to reflect on her past?
"By the way, we've got some apples from the neighbor. I heard they are perfect for treating a cold! How would you like to eat them?"
"…Bunnies. I want them peeled into bunny shapes."
"Mafuyu really likes bunnies, huh?"
Did she like them? Maybe she used to have some blight regarding bunnies. Her memory was vague, but she knew about the blush-colored plush she used to drag all over the city. Bonbon, she thought. That thing mysteriously vanished after its rosy cheeks grew hoary; though remembering exactly what animal it was became an uphill battle.
"Please wait a moment while I cut them," she said, her voice soft and far away. She swallowed, used her soft hands to cut the slices into little bunnies, and looked off into some unfathomable distance. Her fingers moved with dexterity, shaping the pieces precisely.
However, Mafuyu noticed her mother forgot to shape one of the rabbit's ears. Her caregiver never made mistakes, so Mafuyu had chalked it up to her fever at the time. "Yes, it's done."
Apples were a pretty color; Cadmium over her organic chemistry homework–Her teacher marked that paper a 100 with the same shade–even if they had no taste now. But her childhood self didn't need to know that yet.
"Thank you."
"Can you eat them properly? I'm worried they are still too hard…"
"...a little…"
"It can't be helped after all, hehe," Mom gently closed her fingers around the steel spoon, then reached up, brushed a lock of hair out of her face, and pressed her frigid palm to her cheek.
"Open up, Mafuyu! Say ahh!"
Mafuyu felt so… adored that day. She used to giggle when her mother gently untangled messy strands. Before, her hands used to be warm, but now, whenever her mother helped Mafuyu tie her ponytail, she couldn't stop the overwhelming cold that seized her body when her fingers scratched her from spreading completely. Maybe one of these days she’d wake up to the smell of pancakes and a kiss on the forehead.
"It's delicious… thank you, Mom."
Mafuyu could only dream.
𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸
"Asahina?"
Mafuyu blinked once. Twice.
She sat on a wooden bench under the shaded area of the archery club. Shizuku Hinomori, her companion for the afternoon, fixed her school skirt and shifted a little closer to Mafuyu. Every movement of hers was lovely, and Mafuyu had a nagging sensation that any other person would have reacted differently when faced with the model this closely.
"Are you okay?" Mafuyu almost jumped when she felt a wintry hand resting on her forehead. The other didn't seem to notice—or overlooked her reaction.
"It doesn't feel like you have a fever..."
She sputtered and moved her head surreptitiously out of Hinomori's reach. Her bento was still condensing, even from atop her uniform. Mafuyu was sure she resembled a statue, wide-eyed and slowly feeling the water from under her bowl trickle down her legs. Luckily she was very good at making excuses, and it didn't take long for her to come up with one that was somewhat credible to her friend.
"I'm okay, Hinomori. I was just moving the bangs out of my eyes."
"You look sad."
Her classmate had always been a total mystery to her; she did and said nonsensical things without the slightest concern for her reputation.
Yet, she admitted that Hinomori could be quite observant within her airheaded personality. Anyone who only painted her as the beautiful, dumb member of MMJ clearly never bothered to spend more than a second with her. It was evident she possessed an emotional intelligence that not everyone recognized.
Sometimes, Mafuyu discerned their souls were similar in nature, and reality always showed itself when Hinomori was in the archery club. Her face became serious, focused. An air of relaxation arose solely when one's posture was straight, focusing on nothing, just the stretching of the drawstring and the target before the eyes.
That tended to be the only thing that fascinated Mafuyu about Miyamasuzaka: the number of people and different personalities that made them what they were. And yes, Hinomori was right; she was upset, or at least there was a similar feeling clumping inside her, one that made her want to scream until her throat ached under the stress of her vocal cords. The only emotion Mafuyu identified was and always would be, envy.
"But I will not pry if that's your wish."
"…I think that's for the best."
Hinomori had always been a respected idol. And any idol knew their fans like they were an extension of themselves. So Mafuyu loved sitting with her, only because Hinomori treated her like what she truly was: a simple and ordinary individual. Save for her endeavors, Hinomori was her friend, and Mafuyu noticed the relief that emanated from those spearmint irises every time she treated her classmate like a person. It was the least she could do for her.
"Thank you for having lunch with me, Asahina; I asked Shii if she wanted to join us too, but she's eating with Mochizuki today."
Splinters pinched Mafuyu with every breath she took. They dug into her skin, prying, pulsing. The bench was still moist, and the damp oak made her shiver in place. She tried to mask her disgust but she was exhausted and numb; her body felt like it was not her own. Mafuyu gasped for air, choking on nothing.
It didn't matter.
𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸
Kanade settled Mafuyu's soul.
There was no other way to describe it. Kanade was calm, even-tempered, and unflappable. Her mother would call her detached and see through her like she wasn't quite there. But Mafuyu knew better. Kanade was like her namesake: music delicately floating around at night, soothing her soul. If someone met Kanade and wasn't immediately drawn in by her magnetic aura–something was wrong with that person.
"Don't leave me." It was a low-voiced confession. One that made Mafuyu break out in hives. Her forehead creased, and she fisted her hands in the fabric of her cotton skirt, then peered at Kanade from under her bangs. "Please."
Kanade scratched her cheek, burning a hole in the pillow beside Mafuyu's head. She was still wearing her shoes, even though Mafuyu had shed them long ago, as it was common courtesy to take them off before entering someone's house. Kanade probably tucked her in bed immediately after carrying her to the house before anything else, and that thought was so lovely; so Kanade, that she couldn't find the strength to chastise the composer for her ill manners.
"I see. It's alright," Kanade said at last, "I'll always be here with you. Hold my hand. You're not alone."
There it was again. "You are not alone." She sneaked a glance at Kanade. There was a softness to her expression now, a hint of hope. The glint in those azure eyes made Mafuyu's chest feel bizarre.
She swallowed the fluttering sensation as it traveled down to her stomach. "No," she responded cautiously. "We’re not."
Kanade's answering smile was quiet and subtle, easy to miss. Mafuyu didn't miss it.
The fluttering in her stomach grew louder as if she'd swallowed a dozen butterflies or a hundred flower petals, and she had a sudden burst of uncharacteristic courage.
"Your hand is warm."
She squeezed Kanade's hand with a bravery that stunned even her. They intertwined their fingers, and Mafuyu stared at Kanade with an intensity beyond any words she could think of to say. Kanade blinked at their coiled digits, but instead of turning away or shaking off Mafuyu, she simply looked up again.
"Yours is too."
That night, she dreamed of her mother, feeding her apples and caring for her sick body. When she woke up, with Kanade snoring quietly beside her, she felt her cheek uncharacteristically wet.
𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸
“What do you want to do, Mafuyu?”
“Don’t make a decision you will regret later, okay?”
…she wouldn't make it in time for her curfew anyway.
“Now that I’m here after all… I’ll watch a little of the night show and then go home.”
Mafuyu was disobeying her mother. She missed her mock test, and now she was skipping curfew. But even so…
Kanade’s hand was cold compared to hers. Yet it wasn't a deadly frigid; it didn't give her chills or shape her face with fear. No, it was… comforting, somehow. She didn't know why Kanade stirred her insides. Why…?
It was a type of heat that didn't bother her. She always experienced it when she spent time with Kanade. It was pleasing on her chest. Why did that happen?
“All right! Then we have to hurry up! We must go fast, or we’ll have to watch from afar!”
This strange emotion with Kanade, along with her friends. It relieved her. But then… what was the difference between Kanade and Mom? Why were her mother's hands bleak? And Kanade’s weren’t? Why was it that when she was with her mother emptiness consumed her? It was painful. She had barbs all over her muscles, and there was a rope suffocating her neck. It was better not to think about it now.
“Hey, Mafuyu?” Kanade grasped her hand tighter, “Do you still feel cold?”
“No,” Mafuyu blurted, “I think it must be because… I’m here with you. With everyone.”
A chuckle, “I also feel warm when I’m with everyone.”
Hearing Kanade utter that phrase awakened something… unexpected. Time became vague and disconnected. The rides seemed to warp and distend, undulating in mind-boggling fractals; the sun dipped below the horizon, the rays of light transforming the long shadows around the trees into dark, spindly, spidery legs that threatened to crawl over her and drag her into oblivion.
The realization that Kanade saw her in a separate light than she did was stifling.
After Kanade let go of her hand; after the big bulb in the sky lowered, and she rushed to the bathroom the moment dusk appeared, bright cyan, golden, and endless fireworks; inside the music and the actors, Mafuyu disappeared into the crowd and struggled to breathe. She was drowning; she coughed, once, twice—
And a single petal emerged from between her lips.
𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸
Despite the toxic concoction of negative emotions accumulating inside Mafuyu's ribcage, her room remained neat and tidy. Her mother hated messes, so she made sure not to move too many things before she cleaned up after herself every day.
Her desk was organized, with a cup for pens and another for pencils, a box in a drawer where her extra papers were kept, a specific shelf for her school books, and a calendar to write down homework and exams. The bookshelves were devoted mainly to her notebooks, and she maintained a carefully organized system, all of her biology journals neatly arranged alphabetically and by topic.
Only one thing violated this carefully maintained order: an empty aquarium.
It didn't live on her desk but on an ebony table next to her nightstand. There was nothing extraordinary about it; the glass was pristine, so clean that she could catch her reflection. Not even fish swam in the space; it just housed a couple of seagrasses and some doleful algae that swayed from side to side in the same rhythm as her breath, sometimes releasing oxygen bubbles that slowly rose to the surface to pop before fleeing the water.
Mafuyu had no reason to have that aquarium in her room. Other families would place it in the living room and overfill it with colorful and showy animals. No, she didn't have any; but she didn't need them.
Her real hobby was, in fact, only staring at the aquarium.
She liked to contemplate her life while she watched it. Or even empty her mind to think of nothing. Those were her favorite sessions. She only peered into her reflection's eyes; the longer it stood before her, the blurrier it became. There came a time when she felt herself become transparent, slowly disappearing from the face of the earth. She could forget about her problems for a brief moment, and not feel any emotion. Only disappear.
But even if those used to be her feelings before she created SEKAI, she could never let them resurface. Not when Kanade always promised to compose a song that would save Mafuyu from her misery one day. And she would wait for Kanade, as long as she needed. Mafuyu would continue to exist until Kanade fulfilled her promise.
𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸
The sound of fireworks and muffled voices snapped Mafuyu back to reality. She looked around her in a weary rush, but she calmed down once she regained her memory.
She was in Kanade's house, at the request of Mizuki, who suggested time and time again she flee her home. And they were right, although she found it hard to admit it. Her mother kept getting worse and worse with each passing day, so Kanade offered her room like always with the excuse of watching a movie. And so she allowed herself to sleep, her arms around another person and her head resting on a thick mound of pillows.
With much effort, she sat up to look at Kanade, who was staring at the computer.
“Everything would be better if I just disappeared…”
"Kanade?"
The other paused the movie almost at the hour mark, already nearing its end. Listening to her voice, Kanade rearranged herself to snuggle up against Mafuyu. Her eyes were narrowed and glued to the screen, her face painted with a soft smile. Slowly, her hyacinth irises shifted to the side to catch Mafuyu's gaze. She turned her head almost weakly as if she had fallen asleep for a while.
“You’re awake.”
“I’m sorry for falling asleep,” Mafuyu muttered calmly, with a bit of guilt in her tone.
“Don’t be sorry. You need to rest,” Kanade mumbled, and Mafuyu blinked owlishly at her. “You deserve it.”
“Can you hold my hand?” is what she would have asked Kanade if it weren’t for the ever-increasing pain building up in her chest. Instead, she craned her neck to peer at the laptop, squinting.
She forgot to mention it, but Mafuyu had already seen this movie more times than she could ever count. And a part of her perceived that Kanade knew it too.
Mafuyu wasn't one to cry for nonsensical reasons, but she couldn't help but do it every time the leading girl came on the scene. Memories of that time at the classic doll show came to her again. How she panicked when that shattered one lay forgotten in the bathroom. The tightness was the same.
No matter how many times she tried–when Kanade's hand was on hers–she couldn’t find a reason to cry.
“Shoko!”
Mafuyu had nightmares about computer screens and deafening fireworks.
When she woke up, there was an empty feeling in her chest, as if something was missing, or rather, something was stolen from her. Even before her eyes snapped open, she was leaning over the edge of her bed, all her insides clenching at once. She opened her mouth and expelled a stream of bloody flower petals to the ground, slashing her lips violently. Her fingers trembled, digging into the sheets, and the petals coming out of her mouth were black, and very dark, barely more than shadows in the dead of night; she wanted to scream, but her mouth was full of flowers and she couldn't speak, I can’t breathe, I can't—
She’d never seen such a beautiful bouquet of black lilies before.
𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸
Cackling, Mizuki nearly toppled over at the outraged face Ena gave Mafuyu. The artist pointed at her with a wooden pencil, her open sketchbook between her knees. Even the unfinished drawing had "Absurd!" written all over the face—like it usually did on those nights when the four met at SEKAI for their MV sessions.
"You—are you serious? You really don't know what Tanabata is?!"
Mafuyu peeked at Kanade, who cringed into her neck at her expectant gaze and tried to explain. "It's," she mumbled uncertainly, playing with her fingers, "a festival… we're talking about the festival, right?"
Then Mizuki laughed even harder, delighted to see Ena's exasperated face.
Mafuyu raised an eyebrow. What was so important about Tanabata? Perhaps Mafuyu regarded the festival once, on some distant occasion, but she struggled to rouse it now. Was it that interesting to the others that she hadn't heard of such a celebration before?
"I don't know what Tanabata is either," Miku declared, and Mafuyu was silently grateful for the acknowledging nod the other gave her. "Could you explain it to me?"
"I guess," Ena whined, a little too annoyed. She tapped the tip of the pencil on her chin. "It is a festival that occurs on the seventh day of the seventh month. Supposedly, it is the only day of the year that the two lovers, Orihime and Hikoboshi, can meet."
Miku shifted and moved closer to Ena, squashing her dress with interest. Seeing this, Ena pressed her lips together, something she usually did when she felt regretful. "It's a pretty known festival; almost everyone in Japan celebrates it." She didn't look at them; instead, her head dipped as she dropped her pencil. "That's why it shocked me to hear you didn't know about it, Mafuyu. I'm sorry; I didn't mean to make fun of you."
"It's fine. I was interested to hear more about this day regardless."
After all, Hinomori invited her to celebrate the day with all her friends. She wanted to know what the festival was about before going, and she couldn't deny that Ena's little explanation inundated her with genuine intrigue. Why was she so interested in the story of the two lovers?
Mizuki cleared her throat, clearly pleased by the question she posed. "Allow me to tell you. The story of the legend of Tanabata."
As Ena groaned this time, Kanade chuckled, brushing against Mafuyu's shoulder. She froze, feeling something akin to flowers bristle in her chest.
"The story goes like this:"
Princess Orihime, the seamstress, wove beautiful clothes by the heavenly river, the Milky Way. Because Orihime worked so hard making beautiful clothes, she became sad and desperate to find love. Her father, a god of the heavens, loved her very much and arranged for her to meet Hikoboshi, the cowherd who lived on the other side of the Milky Way. The two fell in love instantly and got married. Their passion and devotion were so deep that Orihime stopped weaving, and Hikoboshi allowed his cows to wander the skies.
Angry, Orihime's father forbade the lovers to be together, but Orihime begged him to let them stay. He loved his daughter, so he decreed that the star-crossed lovers could meet once a year on the 7th day of the 7th month if Orihime wove again.
"That's not the entire story," Ena grumbled and shot a glare at Mizuki. "It’s said that the first day they were to meet, they found the river too difficult to cross. Orihime got so discouraged that a flock of magpies came and made a bridge for her. It is said that if it rained on Tanabata, the magpies would not come, and the two lovers would have to wait another year to meet. That's why Japan always wishes for good weather on Tanabata."
"And that's why we write our desires on paper and hang them on trees," Kanade added, clearly amused despite herself. "It's good fortune if the lovers do get to meet, and who knows… your wishes might come true."
“I’m gonna wish Morishita finally leaves a comment on one of my art pieces,” Ena declared with a surprisingly genuine haughtiness. Mafuyu had heard of this Morishita at her school; she was a pretty popular mangaka. She couldn't care less about her at all, and the fact that it was Ena who wished for something as mundane as that surprised her even less.
"Don't be ridiculous, Enanan," Mizuki barked beside her.
“Why wish for that? I would ask for something bigger, like… oh, you know! A closet that can hold all the clothes in the world!”
"That's impossible, Mizuki."
"Not if you wish for it!"
It amused Mafuyu to see her friends argue sometimes. She found it curious how they had different ideas regarding their artistic creativity. Mizuki was more hyperactive in person, while Ena contrasted with her ill temperament. However, when it was time to work, she found that Mizuki took the job more seriously, while the artist eased up the process because she had more freedom.
It was the same with wishes. On New Year, they seemed to take things seriously, but now they didn't want to. Was it because they wanted to mess with Miku? Or was there another reason?
"I wish we could all go to the festival and spend the night with the rest of our friends."
Kanade was always honest no matter who she was with. She appreciated that about her, and it was one of the reasons she liked her so much.
“I… wish for that too,” Miku added, closing her eyes. "If you could, I want all of you to bring the festival’s happiness to SEKAI."
Mafuyu wanted the same. She also sought fulfillment of Miku's wish. And if she could bring a smile to SEKAI as a gift, she would do it for her, and for everyone else who lingered here. It was the least they could do for Miku and the others.
She unconsciously smiled, and the look Kanade threw her was warm, but it was as if she was looking right through her. So she excused herself and fled the scene, wandering around SEKAI like her stomach was about to explode.
It was probably the reason the flowers in her throat finally broke free.
Mafuyu stared at them, wide-eyed and frozen, her mind spinning helplessly. There were at least a dozen buds, small and imperfectly formed, the flowers box-shaped, and their wing-like petals wrinkled and collapsed. They were surrounded by countless loose petals, each smaller than her thumb, their bright pearl hue marred only by the dark magenta at their base, as if smeared with blood.
“Japanese Camellia,” Miku provided. “Best kept as a houseplant; they thrive in partial shade with plenty of protection from the bright afternoon sun. In the language of flowers, it means unrequited love.”
Unrequited love. Love. She was in love with Kanade.
𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸
Drizzle some water on the wound… Dab with a cloth…
The girl's small sobs ceased when Mafuyu removed her hand from her knees. Her medical instincts had kicked in when she saw that child crying alone by the fountain.
It touched her to help others. That could only be achieved with treatment, and bringing out a smile in others after they were cared for, became something inexplicably restorative.
That's why she always pretended to be fine at school. Just because she cared little about her own life didn't mean that helping others ceased to fill the void in her chest, even if it was only for a second. After all, she had always been the perfect little Mafuyu.
"Thank you, big sister!"
"Remember to be more careful next time, okay?"
“Mafuyu…?!” Ena had a hand over her mouth, mirroring the rest of her friends. “You're smiling…”
Her fingers caressed the corners of her mouth gently. “I'm… doing that?”
She couldn't control the laughter that came out of her, especially when she felt Ena's arms go around her torso, and Kanade's hand, always her hand, held tightly against hers. That was where it was meant to be.
Mafuyu was born to be with everyone. Together. Despite her eventual demise at the hands of her incurable illness; a fitting death for a girl who had never made a single decision in her life.
𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸
Mafuyu wanted to be a nurse. She loved helping people since she was little, and she strove to take care of her elementary classmates whenever possible. Unfortunately, her mother disagreed with her practices when she discovered this. "It's for uneducated girls," she used to tell her. "Why be a nurse when you can be a doctor? Doctors earn more money."
And she came to believe her mother, for a while. There was no other way out, anyway, and she wouldn’t find it.
Because in Mafuyu's life, choices were nonexistent. Mom would always be there to decide for her.
𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸
"You should tell Kanade," Ena pleaded with her. "I don't think she's going to abandon you-"
"You don’t know that. And you know I can't do that." She left a few words unsaid, which she had already argued her point with days ago.
Making Kanade feel responsible for cutting what little time they already had left together? She couldn’t do that. Not a chance. She wouldn’t allow Kanade to feel guilty after her death. Mafuyu had already made peace with her circumstances.
“But if you'd just try…” she begged.
"No." Her defiant tone made Ena stop.
It was obvious Kanade wasn't in love with her. Not when there was Honami, who took care of her as no one would ever take care of Mafuyu. Not when Mafuyu had been arid, and spoke without a filter to everyone but Kanade. Never when Mafuyu pretended to be kind to everyone, while Honami remained naturally thoughtful, without having to lie to be liked by anyone.
Kanade never realized the ugly green emotions that washed over Mafuyu every time she mentioned Honami on Nightcord until her chest tightened with shame that she excused herself to cough it all up. She never took notice of her, even when Mafuyu's napkin was stained with vermillion flecks; shamelessly hidden in her pocket and tossed into the void of her SEKAI.
Maybe Mafuyu wouldn't be special to Kanade in the way she wanted, but she was fine with that.
That was alright because at least she meant enough for Kanade to look at her like that in the first place. It became a gift, one she was never going to take for granted.
Ena's fingers floated delicately over the coarse fabric of her canvas, incoherently fused with pastels. On another day, she would have told Ena that the colors made the painting look dirty and that the shape of the petals was uneven compared to the tree trunk. The mixture of pine, fig, and ivory seemed identical to the mess she'd vomited up that morning, except the one on her bedroom floor had also been speckled with red.
She sighed and then looked at Ena. It appeared as she blinked back tears when Mafuyu smiled warmly at her.
Mafuyu pointed to the messy pastels on the floor, “Do you think Kanade would like this color or the other one better?”
They became locked in a silent battle, until eventually, Ena relented and pointed to a different one to the far right with her pencil. "Wysteria." She mulled it over for a second. “It matches your hair. She would like that."
Her chest felt lighter than it had all week hearing that. "One could only hope."
𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸
Mafuyu's dreams used to be filled with endless fireworks.
Then, they became tainted with something too vile and terrible to name or even look at. They reached for her in the dark, with vines coiling around her throat and working their way into her mouth, pushing down into her throat, her lungs, and her heart, and it would kill her. Destroy her.
Still, if she had to die, then she'd have chosen to die for Kanade.
𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸
SEKAI turned out to be empty today.
Mafuyu was kneeling before the cyclamen she just hurled a few seconds ago. She didn't have enough strength to stand in front of the flower, so her knees buckled until she ended up making eye contact with her reflection. It was an act of supplication; an act of mercy. Somehow, she cleared a space for the long cyclamen and set the bud on the ground, positioning it so that her bloodied flowers faced away from it. She didn't want to taint it; it didn't matter if she created all of them as a product of her disease.
And it didn't surprise her then when she coughed and choked; when she spat a mouthful of stringy scarlet petals into the palm of her hand.
She stared at her petals, so bright, so lovely. Spider lilies, she thought, and her heart contracted in her chest. She wanted to crush these petals in her fist, squeeze them tight, and hold them close to her; she wanted to cast them aside and let the void take them.
"You should tell her."
Kaito appeared before her as if he had been summoned. Mafuyu sighed through her nose.
She’d heard that phrase before, from Ena and Miku. She wasn't in the mood to deal with Kaito as well and plummeted to the ground with the feeling of Kaito's hand on her back. Mafuyu reeled from the emptiness of her SEKAI and rolled towards him. His face was drawn with a solemn line, which Mafuyu already expected to see, though, surprisingly, he said nothing more. She blinked slowly at him, an insult on her lips, but he raised a hand to her, sternly telling her to stop.
"Don't talk," he commanded, and his voice was so convincing that she acted as such. She wanted to speak. Oh, how she longed to say something. She needed to tell him how much she cared about Kanade. How much she loved her, and how important she was to her. But she couldn't. As always, Kaito was right.
All alone, I remembered laughing with you,
For some reason, my emotions just kept on making noise.
Was it fine like this? Where did I make a mistake?
This heat in my chest won’t subside, why?
“…Kanade…”
For some reason, I’ve grown lonely,
As my heart has withered, and nothing has flavor,
Inside of the days I’ve grown used to, I wonder if tomorrow will be like this too…
Tears did not stop rolling down her cheeks, her chest rising and falling to the tick of his song. She couldn't stop thinking about Kanade, about the music that made Mafuyu cry and laugh. The music that made her fall in love. She was grateful that this was her SEKAI. She didn't need to say anything and Kaito would already know what she was thinking.
“…Take care of this flower… Take care of it as if it were…”
She sobbed, silently, into Kaito's chest. He rubbed his hand up and down her back with gentleness, and she could feel the stutter of pain from her breath every time she took a particularly strong breath, which meant her hyperventilated cry was nowhere near coming to an end. What they said at school was true–when one was closer to death, one felt the most alive.
Loving Kanade would never be a regret in her life. She gave her everything she ever wanted; and more than she needed. Perhaps there would never be a song to save Mafuyu. But really, she’d rather die than live a life without discovering the feeling that loving Kanade gave her. She was calm now, she was convinced of it. But she was also human and intensely mortal.
Humans were inherently selfish, she knew that, and regrets were always rooted in them. She only wished, in the next life or the afterlife, that Kanade would have half as much love for her as the flowers that grew and twined around her heart.
“Keep visiting,” Kaito told her. His voice was dry against the wetness of her tears. “Keep visiting until every flower consumes you, Mafuyu. Then you can go."
Mafuyu nodded mutely against his chest.
𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸
In Mafuyu's entire life, she never had a choice.
But for the first time, she was finally doing the right thing. It didn't matter how many times she suffered, how many carnations, hyacinths and thorns ate away at her insides. No matter how many memories were wiped clean from her subconscious; if she were deaf, blind, or mute; she would always fall in love with Kanade, in this life and the next.
And yet, she could have lived through a thousand lifetimes and still not deserve Kanade in any of those.
Mafuyu drew her bow. It was mid-spring, perhaps. It was neither hot nor cold, and the wind blew calm as afternoon fell and the rays struggled to reach them. Hinomori had once mentioned that she liked to sit facing the school doors because the sun would catch her and bathe her back with warmth for a certain hour, which was a revitalizing sensation. Mafuyu couldn't match that. When the sun touched her, she felt she could collapse at any moment, that the light would pierce her skin and turn her to dust.
The sun was not revitalizing to her at all; it was agonizing, more like. It was searing heat, a fever that boiled her insides but never finished killing her, flooding her body in a suffocating anxiety that made her throat knot. Because if life inevitably culminated in death, then what was the point of making her wait?
There, being a part of Kanade's identity without leaving a significant dent in her life, she figured she was in a similar situation. No matter how much she wanted, Kanade only had eyes for Mochizuki. And how could she blame her?
Mochizuki was the only reason Kanade was still alive.
And Kanade was the only reason Mafuyu was alive. She never felt something with such intensity before, something that made her suffer as much as Hanahaki. And the simple fact that Mafuyu was carrying those feelings for Kanade meant that she had already been saved. If she could keep that pain alive, that was already a reason to stay until the day of her last breath.
"Your ponytail is lopsided today, Asahina."
Mafuyu released the arrow, listening to the string twang thanks to the force.
She was willing to keep these flowers alive for Kanade. Her love was worth dying for. This would be her first and last choice.
𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸
Mafuyu spent the Tanabata Eve like most people would: hanging empty paper on trees and gallivanting around with her friends.
Unlike most people who would go down to the river during festivals to set off fireworks or spend the night praying at a shrine, Mizuki and Akito suggested that they go down to Shibuya Station instead, where no one but them would be around. So now, laughter echoed around them, and the people strolling by judged them, puzzled, but they didn’t care.
“Miss… Asahina?”
Mafuyu averted her gaze from Kamishiro’s explosive cherry bombs and instead fixed on the delicate voice. She nearly choked on her saliva when she rested her eyes on Mochizuki, who smiled at her with pure, unbridled innocence. So much so that Mafuyu felt almost guilty for all the nauseating things she thought about her.
The youngest fiddled with a pen in her hands, surely looking for a way to offer it to Mafuyu. “We are writing our wishes… do- do you want to come?”
She had no idea how the paper ended up in her hands. The only thing she recalled was the black ink staining her sleeve and the way Mochizuki was looking at her with a hint of curiosity in her eyes. Because, of course, what kind of person doesn't smile in the middle of a festival? It was the first year she finally knew what to wish for, and it was time for her to put it into words, once and for all.
…Except she decided to ask Mochizuki what her wish was instead.
"My wish?" She seemed taken aback by the question, but Mochizuki being Mochizuki, she kindly answered. Without any shame in sight.
“My wish is that we can all spend another year together. My friends,” silver eyes turned to one of her classmates, Hinomori's sister, if Mafuyu remembered correctly. “And your friends,” this time, she made eye contact with Mafuyu, and her grin was so wide that she could see her perfectly straight teeth. White like Kanade's hair.
Kanade’s reflection dwelled in Mochizuki's pupils.
“I want us to be happy. All of us, together.”
Mafuyu’s eyelids fluttered shut upon hearing that, a small tingle tickling her lips. She needed that too. She wished to spend another year with her friends. Although that was impossible because unfortunately, this disease would kill her eventually.
Mochizuki's wish could not come true. Mafuyu was sure she wouldn't last another year, and no matter how much she wanted it to be possible, she was going to die.
Fingers clenched around her paper now. Her hands were shaking, bunched up in her kimono. She didn't want to think about it. Especially not tonight, when the weather was clear, without a single cloud in the sky.
So when Mafuyu opened her eyes–almost wet with tears–and met the look of alarm from Mochizuki, she couldn't stop the corners of her lips from turning up. Even if it was just a little.
"Thank you, Honami. I also wish we could spend another year together.”
Mochizuki's gasp was muffled by the boom of a nearby firework. Orange, like all the sunsets that once brought her happiness. Orange, like the lotuses Mafuyu unfairly assigned Mochizuki.
Seeing her face light up was enough to know that Kanade was in good hands. She always wondered if the girl knew how much she had done for the four of them; for Niigo. Maybe Mafuyu couldn't fulfill her junior’s wish, but she deserved happiness anyway. With Kanade.
Mafuyu could never have the heart to hate her.
“Honami! Asahina!”
Otori approached them with sparklers in both hands. A dangerous act; her mother would have scolded her before launching the gift in the trash. But today Mafuyu wasn't with her mother, so she gratefully accepted the sparkler from Otori’s hands and laughed alongside everyone. Today, she was surrounded by all the people she loved. Mizuki, Ena, Hinomori, Otori.
Kanade. We’re not alone anymore.
When Orihime and Hikoboshi finally met, Mafuyu vomited white orchids, long petals, and silky ivory. She felt them slide down her throat, rub against her palate, catch between her teeth, and spit them out in pieces. She lifted them, choking until she cried, and then, when the flood stopped, she pushed the loose, wet petals into the soil on top of them with her bare hands.
In the end, the sight of Kanade’s hand around somebody else; and their shared fireworks, soft and gleaming—the way Kanade stared at Mochizuki, in the way she once reserved for her, was too much to bear.
She never did finish writing her wish. Only asked the stars that Mochizuki loved Kanade with all that she had to give and that she cared for her even after her death.
Mafuyu’s lungs sprang. They caught fire, burning, killing everything in their path. Everything hurt, and it was impossible to breathe with the petals clogging her trachea, and the roses settling themselves in her ribcage as she lay with her back on the prickly grass.
“They are only two simple stars, Altair and Vega. There’s no real story behind them. Don’t forget to remind your friends today’s legend is pure nonsense, okay Mafuyu?”
“…Shut… up.”
Her eyes flew to the heavens, watching in agony as the two lovers got the one thing she wanted. Still, Mafuyu longed to prove her mother wrong. They did meet, I saw it with my own eyes, Mom.
She escaped shortly after, despite her friend's protests. Hinomori let her go. Ena didn't.
When the last firework went off, Mafuyu couldn’t bring herself to care.
𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸
Time was static and yet it moved forward. The minutes dragged on endlessly; days vanished in the twinkling of an eye. Her health quickly deteriorated. SEKAI did too. Only Mafuyu's flowers bloomed, lush with color and life. Her lungs bloomed with tulips and daffodils, ablaze with anemones and torch lilies. Flowers bloomed inside to die in her bathtub and then grew again.
One day, she told herself insistently. One more day, and I will grow courage. One day I'll tell you. I will, Kanade, I will—
𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸
And then one warm summer night
I'll hear fireworks outside
And I'll listen to the memories as they cry, cry, cry
𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸
The reality was that Mafuyu didn’t have a passion.
Until she met Kanade, and then, she became hers. Kanade was her only passion in life, but the thorn-filled roses, carnations, and suffocating hyacinths growing within her were the painful reminder that Mafuyu was never hers.
𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸
You are cordially invited to the Yoisaki-Mochizuki wedding on,
The seventh day of the seventh month.
Keep a seat reserved at our table for those who couldn’t join us on this day.
In loving memory of Mr Yoisaki,
who is not here today but always in our hearts
and, our dear friend Mafuyu Asahina,
May the cherry blossoms always bloom for you.
‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. ⋆
