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Kyoko isn't a thief.
Well, she believes she isn't, at least.
Even at her lowest, when food is a necessity that she would kill to access, she at least tries to get some in ethical ways. Asking bakeries for whatever extra food they have at the end of the day, looking for almost expired things to get a discount, coupon cutting, taking the "ugly" apples from an orchard.
It's the last one that has her spending more now, though.
Kyoko can admit that she loves Sayaka. To say anything less would be ignoring blatant writing on the wall. She may lie sometimes, but she'll tell the truth about this. Kyoko Sakura is almost nothing without Sayaka Miki by her side.
Does Sayaka like sakuras?
Kyoko's never been good at this. The showing part of love. She stares at all the flower bouquets in front of her, foot tapping anxiously against the floor. No, she can't get those, what if Sayaka thinks she's self-centered?
Forget-me-not's? She knows blue is Sayaka's favorite color. Well, no, it's red. Blue is what she tells everyone her favorite color is. Maybe she'll think it's insensitive to get her blue flowers?
Ugh, she's overthinking this. Her hand grazes over the baby's breath, thinking about it for a moment before turning to the rest of the flowers.
The giant, seven foot, wall to wall display of flowers.
Should she just get one of each of the ones she thinks about? Cover all her bases?
No, no, she can do this. Even though this feels stupid and unnecessary, maybe Sayaka will appreciate it. That's what she wants, anyway.
"Need some help?" Kyoko wants to say she doesn't jump as Mami appears right beside her, but she does flinch a little. She releases the nail she's been chewing on with a sigh, hands curling into fists by her side.
"This is stupid," Kyoko spits. She's been trying to do this for nearly an hour. Flowers aren't that important. It doesn't change the fact that she's still here though.
"It's not stupid. What's wrong?" Mami nudges her by her side, and for once, Kyoko has no sharp rebuttal to offer her.
"I need her to forgive me." I need her to know how sorry I am. I need her to know how much I love her.
•—————————•
Sayaka's hand is warm in hers as they walk down the street to Kyoko's apartment.
"You know what he said to her?" Sayaka yaps, swinging their hands back and forth between them. Kyoko has always liked how Sayaka's hand fits between hers—tight enough she knows she'll never have to worry about letting go, loosely enough that she can still watch her be herself. Watch her be hers.
"What?" She pushes against Sayaka's side, careful to not slam her too hard. Sometimes the things that Sayaka talks about aren't that interesting. Boys, drama, schoolwork. Kyoko still listens, though. It has to be somewhat important if Sayaka's mentioning it.
"He was like, 'You're so rude'! He's such a prick!" Kyoko tries to hold back the urge to laugh at Sayaka's pout, but the snicker she lets out is anything but muffled. Sayaka groans, slamming back against Kyoko's side. "You aren't even listening to me!"
"Uh, yeah I am," Kyoko responds as nonchalantly as she can muster. As nonchalantly as possible with a beautiful girl holding her hand.
"Yeah? Then what did I just say?" Kyoko could respond with exactly what Sayaka said a few seconds ago if she really wanted to. Word for word, bar for bar, like the words were hers.
"Something something rude, something something prick." Kyoko chooses the funnier option.
"Kyoko!" Unfortunately, holding in her giggles gets even harder when Sayaka keeps whacking her on the shoulder, and Kyoko decides she'd prefer not to drop her bag if she can help it.
"I am, I am! Sayaka— Stop it!" She slaps Sayaka's hand away, walking a little faster to not get caught by her.
"What's the point of you coming if you're not even gonna listen to me?!" She laughs, not even a foot behind her. They're running now, cutting past people as they try to walk down the sidewalk. They might be the most annoying people on the street, but that doesn't really matter, as long as Kyoko keeps feeling as light and breathless as she does right now, she'd prefer to be annoying with Sayaka than agreeable without her.
She'd prefer to be anything with Sayaka instead of without her. Sayaka has always been one to do that to her.
Their chase is endless and infinite; only for once, it's Sayaka chasing Kyoko.
Well, as endless as it can be until Sayaka trips over a crack in the sidewalk.
Kyoko manages to grab onto her shirt before she fully face-plants against the concrete, her laughter only getting louder at the shamed red tint in Sayaka's cheeks as Kyoko pulls her up. She sometimes wonders what else she could do to make Sayaka turn that color.
It doesn't take long before Sayaka's hand is back in hers, even if she doesn't look back at Kyoko while she leads her to a nearby bench. Homura had once said they were like the blind leading the blind. Kyoko would still trust Sayaka with her life in that situation.
And what was that saying again? Love is blind?
"I was listening, you know," Kyoko mutters, dabbing the alcohol wipes she summoned against the light scrapes on Sayaka's knees. She's been in this position before, both in reverence and pleading. She doesn't like it as much as being able to meet Sayaka's eyes.
She won't say she finds their bickering fun, but she much prefers them to be equals than on different levels. Sayaka will never be perfect, and neither will she. That is why their hands fit together perfectly, rough scars against chewed nails, bruised knuckles by worn fingertips.
"I know." Sayaka props her head up on her hand, staring down at Kyoko. There's something about the intentness in her gaze that makes Kyoko glance away, continuing to tend to her scraped knee.
Being with Sayaka makes her feel like a kid again.
Or better said, just feel like a kid. Even though it took that away from her, Kyoko does not regret her wish. It taught her everything she needs to know about how the world works—it taught her to be selfish when she needed to and selfless when she could.
(Her wish didn't teach her the latter. The girl in front of her did.)
"Hey, you forgot your bag!" Sayaka glances around, eyes landing on the toppled paper bag on the floor. Usually, Kyoko isn't one to waste food. Sayaka is much more important than a bag of apples though, so she finishes cleaning the blood on her knees, disregarding the fruit beside her. Sayaka has strangely gone silent upon seeing them.
She makes her way over to the bag after she's pressed a kiss against the injury, picking up the apples that spilled over the top. Thankfully, none of them fell into the street, and they're all salvageable. What were they thinking, throwing these out? They're perfectly fine, maybe a little bruised in some cases, but still edible. Kyoko would never throw something bruised away. Whether that be something as simple as a fruit, or as important as her friends.
Kyoko notices something is wrong when Sayaka doesn't grab her hand.
She thinks of doing it herself, even though she knows she'll look clingy, and attached, and nothing like how she should present herself in front of pretty girls. And yeah, she knows Sayaka already knows she's all of the above, and she still doesn't care. There's nothing stopping her from grabbing Sayaka's hand if she really wants to. But then she notices how far away Sayaka is walking, so far out of reach, and she can feel the loss in the core of her being.
"Where'd you get those apples?" Sayaka hisses, the venom in her voice halting Kyoko's steps in her place. She hates to admit that her hackles raise at the tone Sayaka takes with her, turning around to meet her gaze defiantly. As much as Sayaka calms her down, it is just as easy for her to set Kyoko off like a fuse.
"An orchard. Obviously." Rolling her eyes, Kyoko takes a step forward. To intimidate Sayaka, or just because she wants to get closer is a fact not even she knows. "Are you accusing me of something, babe?" The nickname usually slips from her tongue in a nicer way—like honey to soothe a broken voice during a cold. This time, it feels more like a viscous substance. Bitter and hard to swallow.
"And how did you get those from the orchard?" Sayaka demands. For some odd reason it feels like Kyoko's being interrogated.
"I walked over there and I picked them up," Kyoko responds accordingly, clipped and unfazed. If she's honest, she's anything but unfazed in this moment.
"Did you steal those apples, Kyoko?" Distaste drips from each of Sayaka's words as she questions her, the same stubborn glare Kyoko's used to seeing against others pinning her to her spot. She looks back at Sayaka a little more confused now, glancing between her and the apple in her own hand. Out of all the things she expected Sayaka to say, that wasn't one of them.
"What?"
"Answer the question." Sayaka has stared at her in hundreds of ways, with everything from such intense hatred she wouldn't mind hunting her for sport, to the softest, most accepting look anyone has ever given her, enough to lower her guard and think that maybe she's worth living for. Not once has it felt like this. Unfitting.
"I- No, I didn't."
"Kyoko."
"I didn't, I swear!" Kyoko rummages through the bag, pulling out a particularly rough looking apple. "I'm not stealing anything that they're going to sell, they usually—"
"Cut the bullshit, Kyoko." What bullshit? She's just trying to explain, why won't she just let her explain?! "It doesn't matter if they're not going to sell it, you're still taking something that isn't yours without telling anyone! I've told you that I hate it when you steal, so why—"
"Wait, no, I'm not—"
"Do you keep doing it?! It's a pretty simple task if you ask me. If you needed them that bad you could've just—"
"Let me explain—"
"Asked me and I would've gotten you anything you needed!" Sayaka's angry, and she's breathing hard, and she's turning red for the wrong reason, and Kyoko still hasn't been able to just explain to her that— "Do you just not care?!" What? "You told me that you weren't going to steal again and now you're just going to lie to my face about it?" No. No, no, no, that's not what this is, wait—
"Of course I care!" Kyoko snaps. Why does she snap? Why does she say everything so angrily, like she's trying to get a rise out of Sayaka? "Would you just give me a second to explain myself?! God, I can't get a word out if you keep yelling at me like this—"
"You're such a hypocrite! You're yelling at me right now—"
"Because you started it!" The way they fight now is exactly how they act. Childish. "I didn't do anything, I just—"
"Save it. I'm going home, Kyoko," Sayaka spits, turning to walk in the opposite direction. "Don't follow me."
Of course, Kyoko walks after her. "Sayaka, hold on. Sayaka— Sayaka wait—" Even she's disgusted by her own desperation. "Honey, please, let me—let me explain—" She doesn't turn back to glance at Kyoko. Her knuckles turn white against her bag strap and she walks further, faster.
Despite knowing this city more than Sayaka—or more like knowing Sayaka more than this city does—Kyoko loses her in the crowd.
People move and talk around her, going home or to work or to go get dinner. Friends, lovers, family, coworkers. Wanting to rest, to get a drink, to meet up again soon. Wanting.
The concept isn't foreign to Kyoko. It's all she does with Sayaka. Want.
"...Fuck."
•—————————•
"Come on, come on." Kyoko's grip on the phone tightens with every ring, the old, 'bad' photo of Sayaka filling her screen. She paces around her room, her turn tightening with each consecutive ignored tone. She misses her.
It's been two days since their fight.
Kyoko won't say it's their first argument. Far from it, actually. She'll also admit it's far from their last. Both her and Sayaka are rough around the edges, and they're eternally bound to get caught on each other and start something.
But they usually don't last this long.
The occasional bite or unmeant comment may sometimes make its way through their bickering, but they've both gotten better about it. They at least try to talk things through and hear the other out most of the time. This is the first time Sayaka's gone radio-silent. Kyoko hasn't even seen her at school—either because she's gone out of her way to avoid her, or she simply hasn't shown up.
The second the line clicks, she's already prepared to start her explanation, hope licking at her fingertips and heart.
"Sayaka!" Even she can hear the desperation in her voice. A sick part of her wants Sayaka to hear it. To know just how much she affects Kyoko. To see just how much she means to Kyoko. "Hey, it's me. I know you're mad but I can—"
"Hey! You've reached Sayaka's voicemail. Call me back or leave a message after the beep!"
Kyoko slams her phone down against her desk along with the beep, shoulders rising with each of her quickening breaths.
•—————————•
Sayaka watches as the phone in front of her rings again.
The calls have been coming less frequently now.
At first it was once every fifteen minutes. Then once an hour, once every two hours. Now it's once every four. She's starting to think Kyoko's stopped caring about her. For some reason, despite how false it sounds in her mind, the thought makes her chest ache.
The last message she sent still keeps repeating in Sayaka's head.
The loud thud of metal against wood, followed by heavy breathing. Getting angry is nothing surprising from Kyoko, especially in a state like—
"Sayaka," Kyoko had whined into the phone. "Please."
There's something about the despair that racked every syllable of her name. The choked sounds of not a growl, but a sob.
It gets to her.
She can't pick up the phone—not now, not after what Kyoko did. She had promised. She had promised, and then she lied about it. Sayaka can't just forgive her.
She trusts Kyoko. She trusts her so much.
(Even in this state, "trusted" doesn't feel right. She may not trust Kyoko with the truth, but she still trusts her with her life.)
Sayaka thought being with her meant she would never have to be alone again. And yet, here she is.
Watching the phone ring with the girl she loves' picture filling the screen, and hanging up.
Pathetic.
(Sayaka doesn't know if it's directed at herself or Kyoko. She pretends it's the latter.)
Her phone rings again, and Sayaka's finger hovers over the hang-up option, reading the contact filling her screen again. It's Mami this time—the first call she's gotten from anyone since... this started.
She avoided Kyoko the first day back to school. It wasn't too hard, she doesn't go to school in the first place. All it took was going a different route and she was essentially missing.
Avoiding Kyoko also meant avoiding Madoka, though. Sure, they talked during break times, but Sayaka had been quieter than usual. Something about the look in Madoka's eyes, eerily similar to pity, had pissed her off.
Mami was different, though.
She'd asked to see if she could figure out the problem between them. She'd seemingly been blown off by both parties.
It sucks that they had to agree on this of all things, though. Not on dinner, or morals, or meeting. On denying help.
"What's up, Mami?" Sayaka blurts into the receiver. She hopes the longing doesn't seep into her voice. She hasn't been able to make it go away for days though. Why would it change now?
"How are you holding up?" Mami's voice soothes some of the tension in her shoulders. Her question does the opposite.
"Bad," Sayaka responds honestly, settling back down on her bed. It feels empty now, too big for just one person, strange without a leg thrown over her thighs and an arm around her waist.
Mami hums into the microphone, audibly shifting through something. "Would you like to talk about it?"
"No." Sayaka knows her one-word responses are bland, and boring, and nothing like her regular self, but she doesn't really feel like explaining herself right now. Mami understands, at least.
"Have you finally decided to talk to her?" Or maybe she doesn't. Didn't Sayaka just tell her she doesn't want to talk about it?
"No," Sayaka seethes, exhaustion leaking into her tone more than anger. "I'm not going to talk to her until she understands what she did wrong."
"And how will you know that if you keep ignoring her?" Mami adds quickly, her tone refusing to waver. Sayaka stumbles on the rest of her words, her aggression washing out of her. She'll— She just will. And why is Mami prying so much anyway? She doesn't need to know. Why does she care so much?
Mami stays quiet on the other end of the call, the rustling fainter now. It seems even she knows she's gone too far. "Do you want to talk about something else?"
Sayaka stares up at her ceiling, watching the light that peeks through her blinds spread across it.
"Yes," She exhales.
"Alright." For as much as she hates Mami for bringing it up in the first place, at least she knows when to leave things be. "What's your favorite flower?"
"That's your question?" Sayaka chuckles, feeling the weight on her shoulders lift a little.
"I'm just curious. I'm not an expert at this, you know." Mami laughs along with her, and Sayaka thinks everything's gonna be okay. Everything Mami does has always been so musical. Like she's a singer trapped in a girl's body. Sayaka has always loved music.
There is one thing she loves more, though.
"Hmm... I don't really have one I think." Sayaka tries to forget her train of thought, racking her brain for all the flowers she knows, let alone the ones she likes. "I mean, I guess anything blue."
"Myosotis?" Mami's shuffling gets a little louder, almost like fabric on fabric. She's probably at the mall doing... something.
"What are those?" Sayaka pulls the phone away from her ear, searching them up. "Oh, forget-me-nots! I love those, yeah."
"You seem like the type," Mami says. Sayaka would take offense to it, but she doesn't say it with any sort of malice.
"I also like cherry blossoms," Sayaka thinks aloud. She knows the other name for them. She can't bring herself to say it right now, though.
"I'll keep that in mind." Mami murmurs, her microphone picking up the sound of another conversation.
"What was that?" Sayaka turns her volume up, trying to catch it. She won't say Mami's been acting weird, but she's a little off today. Sayaka can chalk that up to her getting used to living as a regular teen, though. She wonders how long it's been since Mami has just gone shopping at the mall, not for medication or tea or anything she needs to live. Just for fun.
"Nothing, I'm just helping someone out."
•—————————•
Standing outside of Sayaka's door with a bouquet of flowers is the scariest thing Kyoko has ever done.
It's even scarier when Sayaka opens the door, the confusion on her face immediately morphing into a scowl when she sees Kyoko on her doorstep. It seemingly falters when she glances down at the bouquet in Kyoko's arms, but the anger in her face remains steadfast.
"Baby, can we talk?" Kyoko mutters, holding out the bouquet. An offering. An olive branch, if Sayaka is willing to take it. She hopes the guilt in her eyes will be enough to get her to hear her out.
"Go away, Kyoko," She snaps instead, moving to shut the door. And before Kyoko can even think about what she's doing or what the consequences will be, she jams her foot in the door, leaving it open just a crack.
"Sayaka, please." A flash of hesitation crosses Sayaka's features at her words, enough to once again light the traitorous flame of hope in her heart.
She tries to read the expression on Kyoko's face for a moment before sighing, opening the door a little more.
"You have two minutes to convince me," Sayaka mumbles tiredly, her glare just as exhausted as her tone. They've both grown tired of this fight. This will likely be the last they speak of it.
Kyoko thinks back to why they're in this situation to begin with. All of their arguments have always been because one of them says something wrong and the other escalates it instead of saying why it is.
"I was wrong," Is the first thing Kyoko says to Sayaka in two weeks. The door cracks open a little more, enough for Kyoko to see the dark circles under Sayaka's eyes but not enough to soothe them. Tantalus' curse. "I shouldn't have taken those apples without asking first." Sayaka's eyes flick between her own, trying to read between lines that don't exist.
"What are you playing at, Kyoko?" The door cracks open a little more. An opening. An offering of Sayaka's own. If this is how this conversation has to go, waiting and watching and choosing her words like the wrong ones are poison, they'll have to go slow. They've never been good at slow, though.
"I'm not going to say you were wrong either," Kyoko says slowly, mulling over each of her words. They don't wrap around her tongue properly, they feel odd and clunky and unnatural, but the raw unfiltered truth is the only way Sayaka will listen to her. Even if it feels rehearsed. "But you weren't right."
The scowl on Sayaka's face comes back tenfold, a scoff making its way past her lips. "Well fuck you—" Sayaka tries to slam the door again, but Kyoko holds it open. For as much resistance as she thinks she should meet, convincing Sayaka to keep talking to her isn't as difficult as it should be. They both want to—Sayaka's just being as stubborn as always.
"Can you let me explain?" Kyoko realizes that she's also at fault for this. If they're going to take this slow, she needs patience. For once. "Please."
Kyoko has never been good at waiting.
It's why she used to steal in the first place. If she wanted something, she'd go out and get it for herself, simple as that. But if she wants Sayaka back, for once she needs to wait.
Sayaka passes her tongue over her teeth, tsking as she looks away. "Fine. But if you interrupt me again, I'm closing this door." Kyoko nods eagerly, a smile she shouldn't be wearing yet already making its way up her face. They're not there yet.
It feels like she's imagining Sayaka's lips quirking up along with hers as she continues. "That orchard. I've worked with them for a long time, trust me, I'm not stealing from them." She looks at Sayaka—for confirmation or permission, she can't even tell—and receives nothing but a motion to carry on.
"After—After you died," Kyoko chokes on the word. She knows it isn't right, Sayaka is still here with her, living, breathing. But no other word can describe what happened to her. No other word can describe what it felt like for Kyoko to think about her and think she would never come back. "I wanted to do things your way. To be better. So I asked them if they could give me some. I didn't steal them or do it without permission, I just asked them if they had any extra. For me." The agitation in Sayaka's face slowly morphs into confusion.
Kyoko doesn't know why she's ashamed of it. She did what she needed to survive. The right way. Maybe she's afraid of Sayaka learning how incapable she is. She's known that, though, so why bother?
"Commercial orchards have a standard that they follow to sell their apples. The ugly ones or the overripe ones get thrown away or used for compost. I—I asked for those. And I know, I know it's still wrong of me to take them now without asking, but they told me I could get them whenever I wanted and—"
The breath is knocked out of Kyoko's lungs as two arms hold a vice grip around her midsection, the bouquet of flowers she spent so long picking out forgotten on the floor. Kyoko always forgets how much she misses the way Sayaka sighs against her neck when they hug, the way her fingers curl against her back like she can't bear to let her go.
"Of course you did," Sayaka laughs against her skin. It might be a sob, too, not like they're much different. Kyoko isn't sure she's faring much better though. Crybabies, the two of them. Childish. "Of course you went out of your way to ask."
Kyoko looks down at her in her arms, feeling Sayaka tremble. "It was that, or lose you again." She chooses the truth this time.
"I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry." Sayaka's shoulders rack with each breath she takes, and Kyoko wishes she could say something to make her feel better. The truth remains though, that this was both their faults. "I yelled at you after you went out of your way to do what I wanted— why didn't you just ask me to buy you apples?"
"I didn't— I thought you'd think I wasn't worth it." Another sob shudders through Sayaka at her words, like the simple thought of Kyoko being afraid of what she'd say makes her sick. "It hurt even worse when you wouldn't—wouldn't listen to me." Kyoko looks away as she admits it, letting the days worth of rage fizzle through her. "I tried to explain but you were just too stubborn to listen!"
Sayaka's grip on her tightens. "I know. I know, I know, I'm so sorry I—I don't know why I thought you would do something like that." She presses her hands against Kyoko's cheeks, just as sticky and flushed as her own. Their faces have become a canvas marked with the shame of their anger, but Kyoko sees it as a sign of improvement. She'd rather a flushed, gross Sayaka than one who looks fine. "I would do anything for you. I would've found a way to plant you a tree if you asked me to, and instead I just—"
"I'll take you up on that. If it's still an offer." Kyoko hopes Sayaka will see it as what it is. A question. An answer. That they will go back to the way things were before.
She thinks Sayaka will need time to think about it. When their eyes aren't red from crying and the memory of Kyoko begging for forgiveness on Sayaka's doorstep isn't so fresh.
But they've been apart for enough time.
"Please," Sayaka whispers, holding on to Kyoko like letting go will make her disappear.
She drags Kyoko inside, letting the door shut behind them. It's dark in Sayaka's house, and Kyoko thinks about making fun of her for how little she can see. Maybe later. Maybe when she doesn't have tears running down her face from nearly losing her over a bag of apples.
A bad trade if you ask her. The sweetest girl she's ever met in exchange for a bag of bitter fruit. Kyoko would rather sprint between their houses to get apple seeds than lose her again.
I
t seems the feeling is mutual, as they both run to Kyoko's apartment to find a pile of apples, and run all the way back. They run, and run, and run. Together this time, rather than away from each other. It's freeing.
"Kyoko, wait up!" Sayaka grins, tugging onto Kyoko's sleeve. She isn't too far behind. Not even an arms length away. It's still too far, though. Who cares if it sounds clingy?
"Why don't you just run faster?" Kyoko retorts, slowing down anyway.
"Because I won't leave you behind again." It's the softness in Sayaka's tone that makes Kyoko huff, turning around to grab her hand again.
"Do you always have to be such a sap?" And Sayaka only grins at her cheekily, tugging her towards the empty park nearby.
"You love me," Sayaka teases, settling them both down on the ground. The answer comes as easily as breathing to Kyoko. Maybe even easier.
"Of course I do."
The dirt beneath them cakes their clothing. It seems it rained recently. Fitting, for the near loss of their relationship over something so trivial.
The apples Kyoko got remain overripe and bruised. Sayaka eats them without complaint, though, seemingly with a new appreciation for them.
Sayaka hums. The mischievous glint never leaves her eyes, and Kyoko's half convinced it's there permanently. "Say it."
"Say what?" As much as she'd like to complain for all of the cryptic things Sayaka says occasionally, that wouldn't be her, would it? Kyoko adores Sayaka, nonsense and all.
"That you love me," She repeats.
Kyoko rolls her eyes. "I love you, Sayaka Miki." She presses her lips against Sayaka's knuckles, feeling the giddiness in the way her hand trembles the slightest bit. "To hell and back."
The phrase is sealed with two apple seeds planted into fresh soil.
The roots will twist together and merge to form a tree eventually, but for now, they can only hope it will.
"I love you too." Sayaka punctuates it with a flurry of kisses across her face that reduces Kyoko from her attempted nonchalance to the childish mess she always is with Sayaka. "I love you so much, Kyoko Sakura."