Brows narrowed in mild confusion as the redhead silently dismissed herself; exiting to the living room without a word of recognition or thanks for the older girl’s act of ‘selflessness.’
Biting her lip, Mami stifled a retort of mild insensitivity, choosing instead to ignore the other’s disregard and carry on with her task. Hadn’t Kyouko /asked/ to watch and help with the laundry, or had that been a figment of her imagination? Oh, how that behavior maddened her; her cheeks flushing with fury as she stood in momentary disbelief. It wasn’t as if it were difficult to utter a word of recognition; some type of thanks for what kindnesses she’d conjured to help the other girl.
Disappointed that her actions garnered no consideration, Mami fought to distract herself from the impulsive desire to chastize the younger girl for her rudeness. It wasn’t her fault, after all; or so the blonde reminded herself. Perhaps if she hadn’t spent these past couple years distancing herself from the redhead, the two might share a more amiable relationship. Perhaps if she wasn’t so pompous and vain, Kyouko wouldn’t act defensively. Perhaps— perhaps if she had been a good friend, their current state of affairs would be less hostile.
A hopeless sigh ghosted through parted lips at the thought. Brooding on the past wouldn’t change anything. All she could do now was try her best to mend the broken bits of their relationship. A relationship she’d single-handedly ruined; shattering the bond they’d once cared so deeply for and scattering the pieces carelessly about, as if it had never truly mattered to begin with.
Once upon a time, she and Kyouko had been close; their friendship so tightly knit, Mami had often felt it traversed the thin line between friend and lover. That past, however, was something long since gone; a flower lost to winter’s cold. Contemptible as it was, what was once so precious was now fractured beyond fixing. Regaining what had long since vanished would take valiant effort, and though she wished she had the patience to revitalize it, Mami wasn’t positive she could endure the emotional turbulence doing so would cost her.
Raising Kyouko’s hoodie to eye-level, Mami inspected the damage that the piece had endured. Though fresh stains from the dumpster littered the fabric, it was obvious the material had long since been clean. Now discolored, the mint-green the article had once boasted was now dull from months of grime. How much time had passed since the material had gotten a fresh wash? Slipping the sticky clothes into the machine and pouring a helping of soap atop the load, Mami started the wash cycle.
‘Things are far from perfect,’ she thought sadly, her eyes momentarily lingering on the younger girl as she passed on her way to the kitchen. Though Kyouko would be damned to know the blonde was pitying her, Mami couldn’t help it. From the state of the redhead’s clothes, things weren’t any better for the other girl now than they had been two years prior— back when things had turned so sour. It showed. From Kyouko’s near constant aggression to the state of her clothes and what few items she owned, the redhead’s poverty was practically palpable; as if she could taste the essence of Kyouko’s hardship upon her tongue.
It was taking all her strength to still herself from questioning the other’s living situation out loud. Surely, that would only result in Kyouko turning tail and running (as she so often did). Here, in the warm, cozy belly of the blonde’s apartment, she knew Kyouko was at her most vulnerable. It wasn’t really a secret how the other felt about her— about them. Asking for help and being here was surely a knock against the other’s pride, which Mami knew was oh so precious to the younger girl. That damned sense of pride was surely what kept Kyouko from asking for help any sooner than this. That, and the redhead’s inability to stand in the same room as the blonde without making some biting retort or unnecessary remark.
Noticing that the water was boiling and the stew was hot, Mami quickly hustled about the small kitchenette, gathering the proper utensils and dishes for the meal she had prepared. Graceful and quiet, Mami fluidly hurried the food into bowls and atop plates, humming sweetly to herself all-the-while.
“I do hope you’re hungry,” she mused, smiling brightly as she carried the prepared food into the living room, placing each dish neatly in front of the other girl. “A sandwhich, stew, a slice of cake,” her brows narrowed, “which is to be eaten last,” she warned, almost teasingly, “and chamomile tea.”
With a huff, Mami sat on the floor, situating herself elegantly at the opposite end of the coffee table; eyes of gold alight with question and intrigue as she studied the soft curves of her face and the wild, crimson orbs that focused anywhere but the blonde.
“So Kyouko, besides the obvious disaster which was today,” she said, rolling her eyes and distractedly pushing loose, blonde locks behind her ear (leaving it down was truly such an annoyance), how have things been for you?” The question was bold; locked and loaded. If she didn’t play her cards right, Kyouko would respond negatively to all inquisitions; even more lighthearted questioning. Obvious as it was that things weren’t all peaches and cream for the other girl, Mami wanted to hear her say it. The desire to play hero and swoop in to bandage the emotional wounds that Kyouko bore boiled hot inside of her; like a kettle which had sat for too long over the belly of a raging inferno.
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