Chapter Text
Thunderstorms today. Fitting, considering the exam this afternoon.
Roka had been dragging herself along in this class all year, with Mami barely ahead. If it weren’t for Iroha, both of them would be failing.
Iroha Sakayori was a generational student. Roka was certain that she had genius qualities to her, considering how she was top-of-the-class at literally everything. Not only that, but she was exceeding completely on her own, with zero support from her parents.
Well, ‘parent.’ Her father was dead, and from what she said about her mother, she was dead to her. She said it didn’t bother her too badly, and she certainly didn’t seem to ever be down in the dumps about it, but that was still a pretty sad state of affairs.
Roka’s parents were extremely supportive of her. They also were quite fond of both Iroha and Mami and wanted to spoil them whenever they came over. It was something that she just took for granted; a parents’ love just seemed like something that was given, a commonplace thing everyone experienced. It was unfair that Iroha didn’t.
While the rain blasted the windows to the classroom, the students inside were even more tumultuous than the thunder. This exam was going to suck really, really bad. Nobody in the class had a full grasp of the material, save one, of course.
“Morning, Iroha,” Roka waved, barely dry from the walk to school.
Iroha was gazing out of the window when Roka greeted her, staring at something either far off or near, Roka couldn’t tell. Whatever the case, it seemed like it wasn’t pleasant to look at, because Roka caught a glimpse of that look again in her reflection before she turned to greet her with a smile.
Roka was an expert in cosmetics. She ran a successful streaming channel exclusively about it, both in real life and in Tsukuyomi. She was so educated about brands and application that she could pin down someone’s selections at a mere glance. It wasn’t what Iroha could offer, but it was a talent.
Iroha was hiding a serious pair of bags under her eyes again, and judging from the expression Roka peeped in the window, she was feeling downright rotten today.
“Hi, Roka,” she cheerfully acted, “did you review the notes I lent you?”
“Sure did, hung out with Mami on a video call going over them. We both figure we each have about a fifty-fifty chance of passing.”
“Well,” Iroha smiled, “let’s all do our best and come out of this in one piece.”
Roka offered a fist bump, which Iroha happily accepted.
The girl wasn’t in one piece. She was barely half an Iroha held together by duct tape and glue. It was obvious to Roka, it was usually obvious to Mami, so how come none of the teachers ever stepped in? Did they even care about their jobs or what?
It’s been way too long since Iroha genuinely smiled. Roka, of all people, could easily tell the difference between Iroha’s genuine smile and the facade she put up at school, even when hanging out.
It was that smile that made Roka fall for her so long ago when the two of them were still just children.
Iroha wasn’t aware of that, Roka was certain. No one was, not even Mami, despite their closeness. It was a secret Roka kept well hidden, beneath any number of cosmetic layers or outfits, or smiles, or tears, anything. The last thing she ever wanted was to burden Iroha with something so troublesome as her feelings. Besides, they were both girls, and Roka had grown to understand what that meant.
What was natural for her might not be so for others. Iroha included.
So Roka went along with the charade, herself pretending she didn’t desperately want to hold Iroha close and tell her she would do anything for her, and Iroha pretending she was happy. It hurt. It hurt so much, but both of them had gotten used to it by now.
“Aaah, safe!”
Mami slid into the classroom, drenched.
“What happened to you?” Roka inquired, half laughing as to prod Iroha into a moment of levity too. It half worked, producing a chuckle out of her.
“My umbrella got caught in the wind and broke!” Mami pouted, stomping her right foot, “oooh, my hair is all messy and gross now!”
“Here, here, let me tend to your wounds.”
Roka produced a hairbrush from her schoolbag, and with expert precision, combed Mami’s hair back into its more typical, wavy nature.
“Thank you Roka.” Roka received payment of one hug. Mami felt stronger than usual, maybe it was from her new fitness streams to justify eating larger meals. Or maybe she had been literally picking up her boyfriend and spinning him around. Whatever the case, Mami was happy now. Iroha couldn’t be fixed with a comb.
How much longer was this going to go on for? There was no way this was healthy for her, to clearly work herself to the point of exhaustion, needing to wear extra blush to hide her eyebags. Worse, today wasn’t even a bad day for her. Roka was also familiar with makeup’s ability to hide a fresh case of crying if applied correctly. Though she had yet to catch iroha in the act, more than one trip to the restroom had resulted in her coming back looking too different around the eyes for Roka’s attentive gaze not to notice. So, on top of not getting sleep, and staring off into space with a grimace, the girl was also sneaking off to cry. She wasn’t being bullied, everyone in the building loved her, down to the janitors, and as far as anyone could tell, she was the exemplar student worthy of having a statue of herself erected in front of the school.
But Roka knew her before her father passed away. And before her brother moved away.
And before… her mother. Roka didn’t like her mother very much.
She knew it all too well. She couldn’t ever forget it, it even went so far as haunting her dreams.
Yeah, she dreamt of Iroha all the time. That sort of thing was natural for a young woman drowning in love.
She can’t even remember when it happened. They had known each other since their earliest years in elementary school, where they became fast friends along with Mami. Those bygone days feel like a dream now; hazy memories with blanks filled in by the current Roka’s imagination. She probably fell for Iroha before she even realized that she liked girls. That day she does vividly remember: it was when the three of them went to watch a new romance movie, and despite the reviews, none of them particularly liked it. The theater was actually empty aside from them that day, so the three decided about thirty minutes in to commentate what was happening on screen. Iroha was hesitant at first, but eventually she came up with some of the funniest riffs Roka ever heard.
The romance in that movie sucked, so she ended up watching Iroha more than the screen. That was a day when she wore her genuine smile, and it was beautiful. That was the first time Roka realized that she found Iroha truly beautiful in a manner beyond just being friends. It embarrassed her to death, and the next few months were extremely awkward for herself, but she eventually came to terms with it all.
She liked girls. She liked Iroha. It was as simple as that. She could never, ever tell anyone about it, but at least it was simple.
That was a long time ago now, and her feelings haven’t changed at all. Iroha is still beautiful, no, more so now. It’s no wonder she has many obvious admirers across the school. Even in this very classroom, Roka was aware of two boys with eyes for her. She wasn’t particularly certain Iroha even knew she had so many fans, given how buried she was in books, work, and games, but she preferred it this way. The less people out there with the guts to approach this paragon of a high school girl, the better it was for her. Probably.
She didn’t even really know what “better” for her actually entailed. She didn’t really care to think about it, either.
What mattered most to Roka, actually, was that genuine smile Iroha wore years ago returning to her beloved friend’s face. Until she could figure out some way a middle-of-the-road high school girl without a lot of money, talents, or general purpose could help restore the happiness Iroha once had, before she lost so much, her own feelings could wait.
In short, Roka Ayatsumugi was a filthy coward, and she was mortified at what Iroha would think of her if she worked up the gall to confess her love.
The bell rang, and the gray school day commenced. The test sucked. Iroha had no difficulty with it, of course, but Mami basically died at her desk. Roka did better than she expected, but truth be told, most of the test period was spent eyeballing Iroha out of concern while her notes she memorized played through her head. She didn’t understand much of the subjects, but Iroha gave her notes, and obviously anything Iroha wrote for her should be memorized.
She loved her. It was really, really simple. Everything else in the world was needlessly complicated. Why can’t life be as simple as falling in love?
~ 🦌 ~
Weeks later, the late-springtime rains had subsided, and summer was in full swing. This meant sun, fun, and most importantly, trips to trendy cafes with besties. Thanks to Iroha’s genius, Roka and Mami actually managed to pass their flurry of exams, despite each of their innate academic inadequacies. Mami was particularly flabbergasted, since she typically performed so poorly that her boyfriend would schedule tutoring sessions with her rather than actual dates. Roka shuddered to imagine that sort of relationship, even with Iroha. Luckily, her actual relationship with Iroha helped a ton with grades, so with summer’s arrival, it was time to do what friends did best.
“You seriously have Tokyo University as a baseline? I mean, it is you, but man. Your mom’s a nightmare.”
“Yeesh, my parents spoil me rotten compared to your mom.”
It was a sunny afternoon, and with exams finished, the trio finally had some time to play together. Iroha, as always, was unfathomably busy, so IRL meetups like this had grown more and more scarce with time. Thank goodness for Tsukuyomi, or Roka and Mami might hardly see Iroha at all outside of school.
“I can’t complain, she gave birth to me with zero health issues. Thank you for the gift of life.”
She’s doing it again. Roka hated when she forced herself to be like this.
“Says the superhuman prodigy paying all her bills and tuition on her own. You’re pushing yourself too hard, girl.”
Please, please take some pride in yourself, she wanted to say, but had to play the game, so Roka threw some playful jabs at her best friend instead. At least they made Iroha giggle a little. It was a genuine giggle, so it was worth it.
“Oh, it’s over here, right?”
Mami leapt ahead towards a set of stairs leading up into a shopping plaza. As she did, Roka took Iroha by her arms and dragged her along. She seemed spaced out about something, but Roka didn’t mind. She was always spacing out about something.
“Huh? What?” Iroha inquired, snapping back to reality.
“The new cafe,” Mami replied with a pose, “you promised we’d check it out together once exams finished!”
“Ah, um, can I take a rain check on that?”
“Huh? No way!”
Roka smiled and continued to tow Iroha towards their destination, overpowering her tug of resistance. She just pledged to relax more, for goodness’ sake. Girl, chill out for thirty minutes and eat some real carbs, not just those nasty energy drinks.
The cafe possessed a comfortable, laid-back atmosphere, perfect for a relaxing rendezvous between two women and their exhausted friend. The menu was jammed-packed with sweet goodness: cakes, pancakes, tarts, lattes, it all looked delicious. Roka, secretly, had a bit of a sweet tooth, so she selected the chocolate pancakes with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top with a mountain of whipped cream on the side. She would need to exercise for a whole extra week to work this off, but it was too tempting to overlook. Mami ordered the special seasonal stack, the one covered in flowers and carved strawberries. She had a much more experienced palate than either Roka or Iroha due to her experience as a cuisine streamer, so it wasn’t surprising that she picked out the artsy one. Iroha ordered the strawberry stack, one of the plainest selections on the menu. Still, compared to what Roka knew of Iroha’s typical diet, it was probably the most gourmet meal she’s had this year.
“In honor of Iroha’s notes saving us from flunking, it’s our treat!”
Iroha was practically drooling over her plate, despite her protests earlier. She really was just a normal girl underneath everything, it was cute. Roka cared more about Iroha’s reaction to her treat than her own plate of chocolatey heaven. It was because Roka’s attention was so focused on Iroha that she missed the person zip into the cafe, run up to their table, and swipe one of Iroha’s pancakes out from under her fork with blinding speed.
“Om! Oh my gosh! This is incredible!”
Huh?
Who’s this girl?
“Sup, Iroha!”
She was really pretty, her hair was gorgeous. It was really rare to see a dirty blonde that length around, even rarer to see it so straight and well-kept. She had to have put a lot of time and money into maintaining that look. Roka could never.
“Whoa, cute,” Roka absentmindedly commented, “is she a friend of yours, Iroha?”
“She’s wearing Iroha’s clothes.”
Mami was correct. This lady had on one of Iroha’s few casualwear outfits, and if Roka were being honest, she looked way cuter in it than Iroha did, as blasphemous as that was to imagine. Reason served to imply that this girl was likely a random relative who’s come to stay with Iroha, which might explain Iroha’s recent distracted demeanor. It would be very like her shit family to spring something like taking care of a relative onto her out of nowhere.
“Hmm? I’m from the moon!” she said.
The what?
“Sh-She means Tsukiji! She’s from Tsukiji! She’s my cousin!”
Iroha, looking totally dejected, answered their questions.
“Tsukiji? Nice, tell me about some nice sushi joints!”
“What’s your name?” Roka asked.
“Name? Hmm…” she hesitated, weirdly, seemingly forgetting something so basic.
“She’s Kaguya!”
Iroha butted in again, answering for her cousin.
“Kaguya? I’m Kaguya! Hehehehe, Kaguya!”
The girl supposedly named Kaguya started blushing like crazy. She was like a total opposite to her cousin.
“Do you like pancakes?” Roka turned to her, attempting to be as friendly as possible to this stranger, “you can try some of mine if you want.”
She could have the whole thing, really, if it meant Iroha getting to eat hers. Kaguya obliged, snarfing down a whole pancake in a single bite like a whale shark.
“These are pancakes?!” she exclaimed, “No way, they’re so much better than Iroha’s!”
More confirmation that the two were living together. Roka pinched her leg under the table in a slight twitch of jealousy, but maintained her friendly demeanor. Besides, she seemed pretty cheerful herself, so it was less likely that she was like Iroha’s mother.
“Say,” Roka started, “do you-”
“Ah, look at the time!” Iroha stood from her seat like a cadet at attention, “we really need to get going!”
And before another word could be said, Iroha matched Kaguya’s earlier speed, circled the table to take Kaguya by her wrist, and raced out of the cafe with her while Kaguya screamed in surprise.
“What.”
That was weird. Roka’s eyes then turned back to the now empty seat where Iroha had just sat, eyeing the plate of pancakes she didn’t get to taste. Roka’s brow sank and she bit her lip.
“She didn’t eat anything,” Mami echoed Roka’s thoughts aloud, “hey, Roka, did Iroha ever say anything about a cousin?”
“Not that I know of. She never said anything about having people over either.”
“Must’ve been another one of her relatives pulling something,” Mami pondered, “well, we’ll just have to invite both of them next time.”
“I guess.”
Today’s attempt at rewarding Iroha with some semblance of a normal high school girl’s life failed, and it was all that Kaguya’s fault.
Still, despite everything, it had been a good while since Roka saw Iroha with that much vigor in her. It seemed as though Kaguya had likely been tailing her today, but that raised more questions. Where did she go to school? She looked about their age, maybe a year or two younger. Did she not have any clothes of her own? Why did the Sakayori family genes produce such cute girls? Actually, scratch that last one, biology was one of Roka’s worst subjects.
“Are you gonna eat that?”
Mami pointed to Iroha’s forlorn plate, having finished her own.
“Nah,” Roka waved it off, and Mami started cowing down before she could finish, “but I do think we should order a new one to go and deliver it to her, don’t you think?”
“Oh,” Mami realized with some crumbs on her cheek, “I didn’t even think of that.”
Roka laughed. Mami was something else when it came to food.
The pair ordered a replacement order of pancakes and paid the bill. When they exited, neither Iroha nor Kaguya were around, presumably having returned to Iroha’s apartment where Kaguya, presumably, had just moved into. The pair decided to deliver the food to their door, and after traveling to that dank little apartment Iroha busted herself like crazy to afford, they rang the bell.
“Don’t answer the door!” Iroha could be heard inside, but Kaguya had stampeded to the door anyway.
“Hello!” she exclaimed, “Ah, Iroha’s friends!”
“Howdy,” Roka greeted the blonde, “we come bearing gifts.”
“Iroha, you forgot to eat your pancakes, so we brought you some more!”
“We ordered a second serving for you, too, Kaguya.”
Roka handed Kaguya the box of pancakes and noticed the bracelet on her right wrist.
“Oh, that’s pretty,” Roka complimented, “where did you get that?”
“Oh, it’s been passed down in my family for thousands of years!”
“Huh?”
“What she means is,” Iroha raced to the door and took the box from her cousin, “her mother gave it to her before she passed away! Just last weekend! That’s why she’s here!”
Kaguya turned with an inquisitive look towards Iroha, who was practically panting to explain things unprompted. Still, that was a really sad story she just gave, and both Roka and Mami’s expressions turned dour with sympathy.
“Oh, we didn’t know,” Mami reached out to pat Kaguya on the shoulder, “you poor thing, I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah,” Roka patted the other shoulder, “Iroha’s got a heart of gold to take you in like this. We’ll be around, too, if you ever need anything from us.”
“For sure.”
“What?” Kaguya inquired before Iroha elbowed her in the back, “Oh, uh, thanks! What’s you guys’ names?”
“I’m Mami Isayama,” Mami Isayama replied.
“And I’m Roka Ayatsumugi,” Roka added, “it’s nice to meet you, Kaguya.
Her golden eyes lit up with a smile oddly uncharacteristic for someone who had just lost a loved one.
“Mami! Roka! Let’s be best friends!”
With a pair of firm handshakes, the cousins bid farewell to Iroha’s friends.
“Did you notice the smell?” Mami asked as they returned to the train station.
“No,” Roka replied, “what smell?”
“Their apartment smelled like grilled meat.”
“Oh, you think they were about to have dinner? Nice, the pancakes would make for a good desert.”
“Iroha can’t cook, Roka.”
Roka knew that, of course, but would never chide Iroha over it.
“You think Kaguya cooked for her?”
“Yup.”
“Well that’s a load off my mind. Having someone feed her real meals will do wonders for her complexion.”
“And her sleep schedule, hopefully.”
“Yeah.”
Kaguya.
Roka’s instincts were screaming unfamiliar, untranslatable words at her, but she chose to ignore them and focus on the positives. Iroha was a saint for helping a family member who lost her mother. It was probably her own mother’s sister or sister-in-law or something, and she probably sprung it onto Iroha like the unfeeling bitch she was. Luckily, it seemed Kaguya was both a sweet girl and a responsible cook, whatever else may be true, so at least the current predicament seemed beneficial in the short term for Iroha at least.
“I think,” Roka stated, “I’d like to get to know Kaguya a bit better some time.”