Work Text:
Kagami lowered the manga she hadn’t even been reading in the first place—she was too frustrated to focus. She went from glaring at the pages to glaring at her foot, which was wrapped tightly and propped up on a few pillows at the end of her mattress. The pain wasn’t really that bad, but it throbbed persistently enough that she couldn’t quite ignore it.
Her staring went on long enough to border on ridiculous, as though she might will herself to heal if she tried hard enough.
She was about to give another attempt at reading with a soft knock and a sharp intake of air sounded from the doorway. Kagami didn’t have to look to know who who it was; Marinette’s hesitance spoke for itself.
“I’m surprised my mother let you in,” Kagami said. A part of her was tempted to bury her nose back in her book, but she wasn’t that childish.
Still, there was a reason she hadn’t told Marinette about her injury. Granted, that reason had nothing to do with Marinette and everything to do with Kagami’s pride. And now that Marinette was here, even that was wearing away.
Marinette had an almost magical way of making Kagami feel better.
“Well, you know how it is,” Marinette said. “I can always bribe your mom with an eclair or two.”
She did a decent job of hiding the unease in her voice, but Kagami still picked up on it. And that only made Kagami feel worse as soft footsteps approached the bed. Marinette had done nothing but be her usual, wonderful self, and she didn’t deserve the silent treatment.
Kagami just wasn’t sure what to say.
The mattress dipped as Marinette climbed carefully onto the bed and settled in cross-legged, facing Kagami from the side. She bounced her knees and fidgeted non-stop with her fingers, but Kagami couldn’t bring herself to reach out and offer reassurance. So she simply stared back at her ankle until Marinette spoke again.
“Actually, your mom called me. I think…she might have been worried.” Marinette didn’t add, which says a lot, but that was implied.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” Kagami said. “It’s just a stress fracture.”
Marinette sighed, then shifted a bit closer and wrapped a hand around Kagami’s wrist. “What happened, Love?”
Kagami shrugged, her anger rising irrationally from the way Marinette’s thumb stroked the back of her hand. There was nothing strange about that, except that right now all of Marinette’s movements held the same gentle, careful quality, and it made Kagami want to scream.
She wasn’t going to break. She wasn’t even hurt that badly.
She just felt useless.
“Mimi, come on.”
Marinette moved closer again, repositioning herself so she sat back against the headboard at Kagami’s side. Her hand inched forwards too, grabbing Kagami’s hand properly and knocking the manga onto the mattress.
“It’s just me,” Marinette whispered, bumping her shoulder affectionately—and still too gently—into Kagami’s.
“Didn’t my mother explain?” Kagami asked.
Marinette exhaled. “She gave me the basics, yeah. But I’d rather hear it from you.”
“There’s nothing to it, really. I landed funny on a lunge at practice yesterday.”
“And that’s all?”
Kagami finally turned, only for Marinette to look away the second their eyes met.
“What are you getting at, Marinette? I don’t wish to play games.”
Slowly, Marinette looked up again, her eyes determined. “Your foot was bothering you this weekend when we went for ice cream.”
Kagami’s gaze fell back to her lap. “I thought it was fine.”
Except that was a lie. She’d known something was off, she’d just decided it didn’t matter. She’d decided she was somehow above getting injured, so she’d ignored the pain. Now she was paying the price.
And, apparently, she hadn’t even hid her feelings that well.
“Did you, though?” Marinette asked. “Did you really think you were fine?” Her voice was soft, but the words cut deeply.
Kagami blinked furiously against the stinging sensation in the corner of her eyes. How infuriating.
How embarrassing.
So she wouldn’t be able to fence for a few weeks? So what? It was still early in the competitive season; she wouldn’t even be missing any important events. There was nothing to cry about. And, really, Kagami didn’t even do tears. So why now of all times?
“Maybe you should go,” Kagami said rather harshly.
Marinette’s response was instantaneous. “And if I don’t want to?”
“You should. I’m in no mood to talk right now, and I’d rather not take it out on you.” I’d rather you didn’t see me like this.
Kagami squeezed her eyes shut, but it was too late. A tear slipped beyond her control, and she did her best to ignore it. If she didn’t react, Marinette might not notice. Of course, the stupid thing had to fall on the side where Marinette obviously would see, and Kagami’s heart clenched when Marinette caught it with one of her fingers.
“Does it hurt?” Marinette asked. “Do you need me to get you anything?”
Kagami shook her head.
Marinette’s hand slipped from her cheek to rub up and down her arm. “I’m not leaving, okay? We don’t have to talk. We can just sit quietly.”
Kagami almost smiled. “You don’t even know the meaning of quiet.”
“I do too!” Marinette said, far too loudly considering her short distance from Kagami’s ear. She seemed to realize her mistake, letting out a little giggle and lowering her voice to a whisper. “I mean, I do too.”
“You even breathe loudly.”
“Then I…won’t breathe?”
Kagami reluctantly opened her eyes, wiping them with her free hand. She glanced over as Marinette took a huge breath and puffed out her cheeks, her eyes widening until Kagami couldn’t help but smile. After another moment’s hesitation, Kagami poked one side of Marinette’s face until the breath sputtered out of her.
“I do prefer you alive,” Kagami said. Her tone wasn’t as light as she would have liked it to be, but she did feel a little better. “And I don’t want you to be quiet. I just might not say much in response.”
“That’s okay. I can just, hm…I don’t know. Treat it like a bad breakup or something?”
Kagami glanced sharply at her.
“Oh my gosh,” Marinette exclaimed. “Not us. I meant your ankle. You know, I can trash-talk it the way people do their ex. Like, ‘God what a loser she is. You’re better off without her anyways.’”
The absurdity of the statement combined with Marinette’s goofy expression and exaggerated eye roll made Kagami laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”
Marinette beamed. “But you love it.”
“I love you.”
Marinette leaned in and kissed Kagami’s cheek. “I love you more.”
That was impossible, but Kagami let her have it. In truth, she often let Marinette win that particular argument, because she found it absurd. There was no empirical way to measure love, no way to gauge the true winner. But Marinette was simply better at showing it sometimes, and somehow it meant more to her to “win”.
In the end, it didn’t really matter if one of them loved the other more. It mattered that their love felt right. It mattered that when Marinette curled up beside her and scrolled through funny TikToks she’d saved to her phone, Kagami felt the world lighten a little more. It mattered that eventually Kagami couldn’t remember why she’d clung to her pride so tightly in the first place.
She let her head fall onto Marinette’s shoulder and enjoyed the fingers combing through her hair. She breathed in Marinette’s familiar scent and listened to Marinette’s tiny giggles or huffs or contended sighs. Kagami’s eyesight blurred as she lost interest in the videos, her mind morphing into a colourful canvas that only Marinette could inspire.
The next time Kagami shut her eyes, there was nothing she wanted to hide.