The girl had been living in Utopia for almost a month at this point, but still, her feelings on the situation were muddled and confused.Â
She almost felt blurry, walking through the large city, her friends not by her side. Like something small could blow her away easily, without their support.
So, having found Ayano, and then Shintaro, was a blessing. A new hope had sprouted, that she could find everyone, that they could live happily here, without him to hurt them.
Which was why sheâd been trying to find every tiny inch of the city possible, despite her low stamina and her lack of proper self preservation when compared to the hope of her friends. Which was why she was here, practically exhausted, pushing open the door of a cosy cafe to the sound of a bellâ
A waiter stands by the cash register. A familiar hoodie.
Blink and youâll miss it, the cashier disappears from Marryâs sightâ
only to approach her from the side, a carefree voice cutting through the sense of silence to bring a lump to Marryâs throat.
The corner of Marryâs eyes start to glisten. Her lips move frantically, as if trying to think of what to sayâ
A warm mug is pressed into her palms. The boy in front of her smiles.Â
[ Take a load off and relax. ]
Thatâs what he says, but Marryâs fingers feel weak, and her eyes are glued to the boy who had often brought her to tears back home. Even now, the waterworks start to turn, though the reason is perhaps a happier one than usualâ
The mug slips from her hands. She pushes herself forward, and wraps her arms around Kano.
ââŠToo long⊠You took too long⊠It wasnât funny, KanoâŠ!!!â
Her face is buried in his chest, so the sound of her voice is muffled and distorted. The girl is weak, but still, she manages to hold unto Kano tightly, her tears soaking into his clothes.Â
     CHARCOAL SOLES s t a g g e r backwards, clamoring to retain balance against the hardwood flooring. his arms hover-- uncertain, unable, undeserving-- at his sides, the slightest hint of a tremble working its way down his wrists. words hang at the tip of his tongue, but the only thing that falls is silence. hazy frustration bubbles in the pit of his stomach; even now, he canât just say something, anything--
     that only lasts a moment. his composure rebounds instantly, formulating a lively exclamation as he waves his hands in a pacifying gesture.
ăwoah! youâll wrinkle the uniform if youâre rough
with it like that! plus, the cup-- well, iâm here now,
arenât i? as an apology for my bad ( joke )-- well--
how about another cup of tea?ă
     he overestimated his composure as the words tumbled out, fragmented, terse, and awkward. the blonde looks down, finally making contact-- leaning in for a few brief pats on the back-- before breaking the embrace. thereâs no mischief in his expression this time around, but there is something else; something complicated. however, thereâs no time to figure what it is as he turns to retrieve a handkerchief and a second cup. he's composed for real this time, all smiles; the âclassicâ kano sits down across from the other, elbows on the table.
ăit mustâve been really rough for you . . . sorry!
iâll make it up to you somehow-- letâs start with
forgetting about that cup you broke, huh?ă