summary: miyako has a realization and hikari is none the wiser
a/n: (i needed a break from my campdigimonth project aha) for the new year, i am pushing myself to write different scenarios, such as a rare pair! miyahika (hikamiya?) involves both of my best girls, so i thought i would write a cute lil drabble about them! hopefully, i've done them justice! (a little over 500 words)
Pink petals soared through the air, tangling themselves in Miyako’s hair. The sakura trees were in full bloom, coating their path with a rosy dust. Underneath the branches, Hikari brandished her chopsticks along with the story she was telling, engrossed in her tale of classroom drama.
With her legs tucked neatly underneath her, Miyako allowed her eyes to flutter shut. Hikari’s voice was warm, wrapping around her like a blanket. A small breeze ruffled her bangs, disturbing the petals once more.
“Anyways, enough about that. How was your day, Miya?” Hikari’s bento sat open on her lap, her focus now engrossed in the leftovers of her lunch. With a tree trunk behind her back and the sun’s warm breath on her cheeks, Miyako was content to rest in the silence. The weight of Hikari’s gaze, however, rested heavily on her cheeks, a strange flush crawling up her neck.
“I guess it was okay,” Miyako muttered. Her voice was raspy from disuse, having spent the better part of an hour getting lost in Hikari’s adventures in public school.
Hikari hummed around the rice ball in her mouth, hands gesturing for her to divulge further. Her crimson eyes were bright, glimmering in the afternoon light. The breeze had coaxed a rosy sheen to Hikari’s cheeks, momentarily rendering Miyako mute. A strange sort of fluttering erupted in her stomach, her mouth as dry as cotton. “Ah, well, the theater club was overbearing as usual.”
Her voice sounded strained, even to her own ears. Hikari swallowed her bite of food, Miyako unable to tear her eyes away. There was a strange anticipation in the air, a twinge of electricity shooting down Miyako’s spine every time Hikari’s gaze met her own.
“Did the boys dress you as a Disney princess again? Oh!” she pulled out her phone, glittery nails typing at speed that not even Koushiro could manage, “I bet they have photos.”
Miyako managed a laugh. She would rather live without internet access than allow any of the boys in her club to collect the evidence of their terrible cosplay. “Don’t get your hopes up, Hikari. Mimi was out sick, so the others thought it would be impolite to dress up without their 'queen'.”
Hikari’s bottom lip puffed out in annoyance, glossy and plush. The fluttering in Miyako’s stomach worsened, air now crackling with electricity. “I love it when they dress you up, though. You make such a pretty princess, Miya.” Her eyes were wide and honest, boring into Miyako’s with an uncomfortable intensity.
Miyako was much too practical for focusing on her looks. Her subjective attractiveness did not matter; her scholarship was not dependent on whether or not she was pretty. But Hikari’s tone was uncharacteristically soft, almost a whisper. The butterflies began to soar, Miyako’s palms growing sweaty. Unlike her male classmates that showered her in superfluous compliments as often as they breathed, Hikari’s felt genuine.
Hikari thought she was pretty.
And for a moment, Miyako allowed herself to believe her.
