Work Text:
Don’t Tell Mom
She was twenty minutes late by the time she stumbled across the crowded streets of their predetermined meeting place.
It was not her fault. It was not her fault, she chanted to herself, the mantra the only rhythm keeping her breathing from spiraling into a panic attack. She sidestepped loud teenagers and liplocked couples, avoiding eye contacts with buskers desperate to win her attention.
It was not her fault she’s late. It was not her fault she’s late.
But really, it might be a bit of her fault. Or perhaps, a lot of her fault.
Despite this being an unfamiliar district in Tokyo, one she never stepped foot in before, and despite both Takeru and Taichi insisting she took an Uber - at their expense - she decided and was determined to find her way through public transit. With her less than stellar direction sense, the result was her missing her stops and boarding the wrong connecting train - twice, culminating in her deciding to figure out her bearing on foot with the help of Google Maps, which to be fair, wasn’t much help to her at all at the moment.
But it wasn’t her fault. If it was up to her, she would ask Miyako to consider a girl’s night in at her apartment, instead of meeting up at a god forsaken bar on the other side of the city. But Miyako, nostalgic and homesick for the comfort of a chaotic Tokyo nightlife after four years of studying abroad in balmy India, begged Hikari for a girl’s night out. And that’s how she found herself here, wrapped in a fringe trimmed sequin dress she would only wear for Miyako, clumsily stumbling on high heels across uneven pavement until at long last, the lit up neon sign of the bar reared itself up, welcoming her with the oppressive stench of alcohol and cigarettes.
The first thing she did when she entered was wrinkled her nose, the smoke-induced headache reminding her of all the reasons she should have stayed home, and all the reasons why she preferred to stay home. But regardless, she narrowed her eyes and scrutinized the dimly lit hall, looking for familiar lavender hair.
She delved deeper into the bar, scanning tables after tables, studying each face at the bar counter, wondering if Miyako had given up and left the bar after she failed to show within the first fifteen minutes. She retrieved her phone, just as the speaker blared out the opening beat of a new dance song, her heart hammering hard with the teeth-chattering rhythm.
Just then, a mysterious hand encircled her wrist. Hikari jumped, her phone twirled in the air right before her eyes and landed in the open palm of her caller.
Panic paralyzed her limb, but it dissipated the moment she heard the high-pitched laugh, its sound ringing out in spite of the loud music.
“Miyako!” she called out, but then…
“Miyako?” she took a step back in shock - and awe, and understood now why she couldn’t locate her distinct purple hair amongst the throngs of people.
Her purple was…gone.
At least most of it. Her usual long flowing locks were shorn short into a scalp hugging crew cut. She stared agape at the asymmetric shape, the way it highlighted her high cheekbones and accentuated her elongated face.
“Oh my god, Hikari!” Miyako squealed, “Finally! You made it!” She pulled her in for a tight embrace, then led her to a table near the back of the bar, where two women and a man she’s never met before were seated with their eyes glued to their phone.
“Everyone, this is the friend I told you about, the one I knew since I was twelve and have been best friends with ever since. This is Hikari. Hikari, say hi!”
Miyako’s companions looked up at her at once and chirped their greetings, their voices lost in the roar of the bar’s next dance track. Meanwhile, the best Hikari could manage was a meek nod and a frantic wave, her head pounding too hard for her to make heads or tails of her surroundings.
She pulled Miyako close, then strained her question into Miyako’s ears, her throat throbbing from the effort.
“Are these friends you made in India?” she inquired.
Miyako laughed, “No, I just met them. They’re a hoot. We’ve already ordered like three rounds of shots. Oh Hikari, I miss Japanese sake, you have no idea”
Just met them?
She sat back and watched as Miyako clinked glasses with them, downing the cup in one giant gulp before bursting out in hearty laughs. They looked like old friends reuniting after a long absence from one another, like they shared secrets during sleepovers and passed notes to each other in middle school.
“Wow, look at your hair,” Miyako commented as she twirled Hikari’s locks between her fingers.
At first, Hikari was confused, but then she realized…it’s been a good two years since she saw Miyako last, at that time, her hair was just grazing her shoulder. Now, it flowed behind her back, long enough for her to experiment and test out updos and fancy braid patterns.
“My hair?” Hikari yelled out, “Look at yours!”
Miyako laughed and combed her fingers through the short locks.
“Ah this…I completely forgot I chopped my hair off”
“Chopped it off?” exclaimed mystery girl #1, “You mean…”
“Yup, it’s been a few months so some of it has grown back. But back at the start of this year, I was 100% bald”
“Wow! That’s hot,” commented the mystery guy, the huskiness of his voice made Hikari’s skin crawl.
“What made you decide to shave your head?” mystery girl #2 inquired.
“Oh you know…it was really hot in India,” Miyako responded with a laugh and a shrug, “I just thought it made sense so I just…did it.”
“That’s it? You shaved your hair because it was hot?” mystery girl #1 dug.
“Does there need to be another reason?” Miyako laughed again, the sound so infectious it made her mystery friends join her. But Hikari remained silent, staring up at her old friend in admiration as she studied the shine in Miyako’s eyes.
It took her years of thinking and questioning to finally decide to grow out her hair, to shed the identity of that safe obedient daughter and embrace the control she could have over her body. And yet, it took Miyako all but a slight whim to commit to something as drastic as shaving her head.
People often wonder how it came to be that two people’s paths would intersect, and what wondrous magic sparked a bond between them. Hikari wondered about it, too, about every significant relationship in her life and if they would even exist had it not been for their fated role as chosen children. After nearly two decades of knowing him, Hikari was sure that regardless of universes and outcomes, she would somehow always cross paths with Takeru. It seemed like fate that they met and remained in each other’s lives. By now, he was a sturdy homebase for her to return to.
But the one conundrum in her world was Miyako.
She often wondered if they were not Chosen Children, if they were not jogress partners, would they be as close as they are now? Would there be a reason for Miyako to speak to her, for her to respond to Miyako? After all, they were as different as land and water. Hikari was the sturdy and safe land that grounded all life, and Miyako was the wild and tameless ocean that existed around land. She could never understand Miyako, the same way land could never understand the ocean. Even now, after all the adventures and battles they fought together, she knew deep down that no matter how hard she tried, she still could never ever truly understand the vivacious boundless spirit that was Miyako.
So what, she wondered, drew them together in the first place? Had they not been jogress partners, would they be sitting together tonight at this bar, the music ramming into Hikari’s skull, the stench of alcohol deluging this dimly-lit room?
Had they not been jogress partners, would they even be friends?
—
Hikari waited until 11:15 PM before she announced her departure.
It took her 45-minutes to get here, she figured it would take her another 45-minutes to get home, and she desperately wanted to be back in her apartment before midnight. She excused herself on the basis of an early morning shift at the daycare, then convinced Miyako to stay with her newfound friends instead of accompanying her home.
She practically rocketed out of the bar, her senses desperate to escape the overstimulation. All at once, the rowdy Tokyo streets seemed like a relaxing spa in comparison. She breathed in deeply, inhaling the delicious scent of pan-fried street food, swimming in relief that she was no longer trapped in a haze of cigarette and booze.
The bar door squeaked open behind her, she turned around just in time to catch a glimpse of Miyako and her new haircut, dashing out with her heels hung on her left index finger.
“Miyako?”
“Hikari, sorry, I wanted to walk you back…at least to the subway station.”
Hikari blushed, but nevertheless, allowed Miyako to rest against her as she clumsily slipped her shoes back on.
“Miyako, you don’t have to…” Hikari began. Her stomach dropped at the thought of Miyako abandoning her companions for her sake.
“You haven’t changed, have you?” Miyako commented with a laugh, before pulling Hikari down the street, past busy food vendors and cramped eccentric boutiques.
Hikari remained silent, but watched Miyako closely as they walked together. Away from the dimly-lighted bar, Miyako’s hair was violently violet, the colour more vibrant than Hikari remembered, a product, perhaps, of being out in the Indian sun for the past four years.
“So what’s been going on, Hikari? I feel like we haven’t really spoken much tonight.”
“Umm…” Hikari began, then pursed her lips. She wished she could say it was a little difficult for them to speak, considering that Miyako had chosen a screeching bar as their meeting place, and she found herself three strangers to sit with throughout the evening.
“But…I guess it was silly of me to choose a bar to meet up at when we wanted to talk and catch up after my return from India.”
Hikari balked, she stared back at Miyako dumbstruck, amazed that Miyako could read her thoughts so well. Unlike her own self, who could barely read Miyako despite their status as best friends. Her face heated up with shame, and for the next few minutes, they walked in silence as Hikari struggled to bear the weight of her guilty heart.
Perhaps Miyako might have been happier staying with the three people they met at the bar, partying it up and drinking the evening hours away…
Before her thought could spiral out of control, a sharp gasp pierced through the air, startling her out of her reverie.
“Hikari!” came the enraptured call, her eyes were wide unblinking orbs as she stared straight ahead with jaws dropped wide open.
“What? What is it?” Hikari stammered, the warmth leaving her body as she studied Miyako with uncertainty.
In response, Miyako grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her forward without a word. Hikari could only stumble along, visions of the most embarrassing falls assault her senses as she struggled to even her balance along the busy Tokyo street.
They pushed through a set of double glass doors, a cheerful chime announcing their entrance in the mysterious store.
“Miyako? What….?”
But the distinct buzzing off in the distance answered Hikari’s question. All around her were framed pictures of recognizable line art in black ink. Beyond the reception desk were rows of black beds resembling the examination table at the doctor’s office. Only two beds were occupied in the far corner, the occupants dwarfed by tattooed workers bent over their subjects like surgeons in hospitals. The back of the store was a simple white wall, with large cursive letters spelling out the store name in neon lights:
Don’t Tell Mom.
Miyako squealed and grabbed onto Hikari’s shoulders, shaking it as she spoke.
“Hikari, I’m going to do it tonight. I’m going to get a tattoo.”
Hikari’s eyes widened at the statement. If it was anyone else, she would be convinced that it was the alcohol talking. But this was Miyako. She watched Miyako drink twice the beer Taichi could stomach and recite the alphabet backward and rap an entire Eminem song with her eyes closed.
“Tonight?” Hikari repeated as Miyako flipped through a black binder at the reception counter.
“Yes, tonight. Oh look at this, Hikari, do you think this heart will look good on my shoulder? Like right here?”
She pointed at her shoulder, but Hikari was at a loss for words. Instead, she stared back at Miyako, mouth agape.
“Oh come on, Hikari, don’t look at me like that. Lots of people get tattoos, it’s not like I’m doing anything groundbreaking.”
“But…this is a tattoo. It’s permanent.”
“Yeah, that’s the point”
“But what if you regret getting it in the future.”
Miyako shrugged as she resumed flipping through the binder, “There’s laser”
“I don’t…I don’t think it’s that easy, Miyako.”
Miyako rolled her eyes and slammed the binder shut, “Look, I’m not asking you to get the tattoo, now am I? Although…”
“No!” Hikari screamed, drawing the attention of everyone else at the store.
“You haven’t even heard the rest of my question,” Miyako pointed out with a pout.
“No!” Hikari repeated, “No no no no no no no no no”
“But come on, Hikari, will you even consider it? I’m getting one.”
“So? You do whatever you want, Miyako, it’s your body. But why do I have to get one just because you’re getting one?”
“Because we’re jogress partners! Wouldn’t it be amazing if we get matching tattoos, like maybe right here on our hips or something. Then we’d be joined at the hips”
“I said no, Miyako!”
She realized a second too late that she had spoken too firmly and too loudly. Miyako withdrew herself, settling down on the reception chair and flipping through the binder once again.
The next few minutes passed in unbearable silence. Until at last, Hikari shouldered her bag, ready to excuse herself when Miyako’s words froze her to the ground.
“I was being too pushy again, wasn’t I?”
Her stomach plummeted, not at the question, but at the solemn tone of her voice. She didn’t hear it often, only during times when Miyako allowed her bravado to drop to reveal the insecure little girl she worked hard to hide from the world.
Hikari sighed and plopped herself down beside Miyako, watching as she flipped through the laminated pages of tattoo samples.
“Don’t worry about it, Miyako. It was more on me, I’m not brave like you. Tattoos…just aren't my thing, that’s all.”
Miyako scoffed, “No, Hikari, you are brave. I’m just reckless and impulsive.”
“That’s not true, Miyako! I promise you that’s not true.”
Miyako sighed and slammed the tattoo binder shut, standing up with her purse in hand. From the corner of her eyes, Hikari could see one of the tattoo artists staring intently at the both of them.
“You’re right, Hikari. This is permanent. What if I end up hating it five years from now.”
“You said so yourself. There’s laser.”
Miyako laughed, “And you said so yourself. It can’t be that simple.”
Hikari bit her lips, watching as Miyako moved towards the door. But just before Miyako stepped outside, she decided it was her turn to grasp onto Miyako’s wrists. So she reached forward, holding her and pulling her back to the seat beside her.
“If you really want to get a tattoo, then you should get one, Miyako.”
Miyako sighed and shook her head, “I’m sorry, Hikari. I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard about the tattoo. I should know that you’re not comfortable with the idea of it.”
Hikari blushed, “Oh no, Miyako, please don’t apologize…”
“I mean…I was told by my other friends that…I tend to bulldoze people.”
Hikari wrinkled her nose, “Oh? If that’s the case then…they don’t sound like very good friends”
Miyako laughed, then finally opened the binder and resumed looking through the catalogue.
“I wish…I wish I was more like you, Hikari.”
“What…what do you mean?”
“You’re kind and thoughtful, you always seem to understand people and empathize with them, no matter how infuriating they are. Truth be told, I often wonder how we even came to be friends. How could someone with such grace and patience put up with a person as impulsive and selfish as me?”
“Miyako…”
“If we weren’t jogress partners, would we still be friends? I mean…we’re so different, you and I.”
Hikari’s heart dropped. Throughout all the years they spent together, Hikari had put all her eggs into the belief that at the very least, Miyako believed in them. Miyako was the secure one in their relationship.
But it turns out, Miyako had doubts, too.
And…where did that leave them?
“Tell me, Miyako. Why do you want a tattoo?”
Miyako smiled sheepishly, “I’ve always wanted one. I like the idea of branding ourselves with something so important and personal to us, we’re willing to wear it on our body forever.”
Hikari couldn’t help but mimic her smile, her heart lightened by the way her friend’s features glowed with excitement once again.
“There’s always…lasers. Right?”
Miyako’s eyes snapped up.
“I’ll…I’ll do it, Miyako. I’ll get a tattoo if you get a tattoo.”
Miyako shot up from her seat, both her hands on her mouth as she stared back at Hikari in disbelief.
“No…no Hikari, I couldn’t ask you to…”
“But you’re not, I’m telling you I want a tattoo”
“Are you sure? I mean…it’s permanent. You’ll be staring at it for the rest of your life”
Hikari shrugged, “I like the idea of branding ourselves with something so important and personal to us, we’re willing to wear it on our body forever.”
Miyako squealed in response. Then pulled Hikari into a tight embrace.
“I can’t…I can’t believe we’re going to do this, Hikari. I can’t believe…we’re getting matching tattoos!!!!”
“Shh..Miyako,” Hikari hissed, but nevertheless, she was also giggling hard, then joined Miyako as they poured over the binders of sample tattoos together.
They were indeed different people, perhaps at opposite ends of some personality spectrum. Hikari was the sturdy land that grounded life and signified home, and Miyako was the wild and untamed ocean that surrounded her. Water and land might not understand one another, but perhaps it didn’t matter. What mattered was how they blended into one another, blurring the boundaries and pushing them out of their comfort zone. Miyako was the force Hikari needed to break her out of her boundaries, and Hikari was the homeland grounding Miyako to her core.
In their own ways, they were perfect for one another.
Two hours later, the clock was approaching two in the morning. But instead of being back at her apartment, Hikari found herself standing beside Miyako in front of the tattoo parlour mirror, admiring their new tattoos: Hikari a simple line art of a mountain peak, and Miyako the ocean wave in matching style, both on opposite sides of their hip.
“It’s perfect for you, Hikari,” Miyako commented with awe.
Hikari giggled, “Same with you”
She still firmly believed that in any and every universe, Hikari would always find her way to Takeru, and him to her, this was their fate and destiny. But with Miyako, it was only in this universe, this moment, that they found themselves as best friends, jogress partners, and kindred spirits. And somehow, that made it all the more special.
It was fate and destiny, after all, one that only her version of reality was privy to.
“Guess this really seals our status as jogress partners, huh?” Miyako commented as she bumped her hips to Hikari’s.
“No, Miyako, it’s more than that. We’re more than just jogress partners.”
She then entwined her fingers between Miyako’s and clasped their palms together, inviting her in to break her boundaries, to erase the frontier that separated their vastly different world, the same way ocean waves would wash ashore to blend the distinction between land and sea.