Chapter Text
Natsuki: hey yuri, could i talk to you real quick?
Oh, God. I'd been afraid to get this text since yesterday. I know ignoring things isn't really her strong suit, but I was hoping, just this once, that she'd agree to forget all about our trip to the beach.
Me: I suppose.
Natsuki: cool. is it OK if i call you?
Calling? That's even worse than talking on person! We could have just talked as we left the club room and we would have been free to walk away afterwards (and probably never speak to each other again, or something).
Me: Sure, that's fine!
God I'm a fucking idiot.
My phone starts ringing a few seconds later and all I can do is stare at the paint texture of my wall. I don't want to talk to Natsuki about this. What if she says it was weird? What if she says it was creepy? What if she thinks we shouldn't hang out anymore? Or, even more complicated, what if she wants to hang out more? What if she's been overthinking that kiss just as much as I have?
Me: "Hey."
Natsuki: "Hey Yuri. How's your day?"
Me: "I mean, I got home from the club like . . . an hour ago, so fine. How about you?"
Natsuki: "Also kind of nervous, actually."
Me: "Oh?"
Oh? What, am I trying to prompt her into talking about it?
Natsuki laughed uncomfortably over the phone for a second, then said,
Natsuki: "Yeah, I guess I just . . . I'm worried about Sayori."
Me: "Sayori? Why?"
Natsuki: "Well . . . I guess it's just . . . well, it's Rose."
I have absolutely no idea what's going on. Sayori and Rose? That's what she wants to talk about? Not us?
Me: "Huh? What about Rose?"
Natsuki: "Well, you know how Rose and Monika have been walking home together? And how Sayori's been pretty depressed?"
Me: "Sure? . . . wait, do you think these are connected?"
Natsuki: "Uh, duh. Sayori's like, head over heels for Rose. Have you seriously not noticed?"
Me: "I thought they were just friends?"
Natsuki: "Yuri, Yuri, Yuri. Dear Yuri. You are an idiot."
That stings a little, but she's probably right. Whatever I've missed was probably obvious the whole time.
Natsuki: "Look, Sayori and Rose have been best friends for a billion years, and Sayori invited Rose into the club so they could hang out more. Then Rose ends up hanging out with Monika more 'cause she's always there until the end of meetings and they help her clean up, so Sayori actually just gets to spend her club time getting ignored. This is like, transparent and also really sad."
I'm not really sure what to say, so I just go with an,
Me: "Oh."
Natsuki: "SO WHAT I WAS TRYING TO SAY is, like, we should invite Sayori to hang out with us more. It's bad enough she's got to watch the stuff with Rose, but she shouldn't have to be alone, too."
Me: "Oh, okay."
I hesitate for a moment, then tack on,
Me: "I thought we were trying to spend more time together, though? . . . just the two of us?"
It sounds whiny and I know it, and for a second I consider taking it back. Now that it's clear Natsuki really does plan on ignoring what happened yesterday, I can't feel much interest in any other topic.
Natsuki: "I mean . . . yeah. But the more, the merrier, right?"
I know Natsuki's right, vaguely. And in the abstract, I get along with Sayori better than I do Natsuki, and we're a lot more harmonious as a group. But hanging out with Sayori can be such a downer, and if she's been getting worse, having fun is probably right out. And that's the main difference between hanging out with the group and just Natsuki, isn't it? Just getting to have fun, knowing that being away from home is always going to be the right choice?
I want to see Natsuki. I just wish she wanted to see me, too.
Me: " . . . sure, I guess."
Natsuki: "Cool. Want to meet up after our club tasks Sunday and go see her?"
Me: "Sure."
Pause.
Me: "Um, come to think of it, why don't you come over and bake at my place?"
I've got my hand in the air already, on the edge of rewinding before I even hear her answer. Nervous energy sits under my skin like an itch, and even as I feel my fingers pull the threads of time taut, I hesitate, realizing there's no way I can turn it back without hearing her answer.
Natsuki: "Really? . . . that would be . . . really cool, actually."
I'm so startled, I nearly rewind under the impression that she really said the horrible things I imagined instead of what she clearly just said. After a few seconds, though, I let the threads go, and my skin crawls with sudden anticipation.
Me: "Awesome. I'll text you my address."
I'm too excited now, and I need to get off the call. I could probably get away with it while being on the phone with Natsuki, but I'd prefer not to add complications.
Natsuki: "Okay. You'll get a free cupcake for hosting me."
Me: "Natsuki, I am a club member. Don't I already get a free cupcake?"
Natsuki: ". . . okay. So you get two free cupcakes. With kittens. Final offer."
I'm breathless. Are we flirting? I think this is flirting. I hate how excitable I am - she probably thinks I'm so fucking weird.
Me: "Deal. See you Sunday."
Sunday turns out to be a lot less fun than I imagined, thanks to the fact that both of our Festival tasks turned out to be a lot of effort. Natsuki has been at my house for almost six hours by the time I wrap up the decorations, and her cupcakes are still being taken out of the freezer and decorated in stages. I don't really have the dexterity or know-how to help, so I just sit on the counter near where she works and try to pretend I don't wish she were paying more attention to me instead.
Natsuki's phone buzzes, and she sets her stuff down to check it.
"Oh, huh. Apparently Sayori's hanging out with Rose today. I don't think she really wants to hang out."
Natsuki sounds iffy about this news, but I crack a small smile.
"Oh? That's too bad. But at least we can still hang out when you're done with the cupcakes, right?"
Natsuki frowns, staring at her phone for another minute before stuffing it in her pocket. "Actually . . . it's getting pretty late. I should be getting home."
Seriously? I lock my expression in place, but behind the smile my heart falls. I somehow spent the whole day with Natsuki and it feels like I barely saw her. I thought things were going to be different between us. I thought there was no going back from what happened Thursday, and yet . . .
I drop from the counter and put my hands on my hips. "Well, fine. But at least let me walk you home. You shouldn't be all alone in the dark."
Natsuki's eyes narrow as she crosses her arms over her chest. "Then you'll be walking home alone."
"Hmm." That's a fair point, but I'm not going to let it stop me. "I should help you carry your stuff back."
Natsuki says, "I walked literally all of it here myself?"
Natsuki looks irritated and I know I'm irritated at how stubborn she's being. But at least I can be stubborn back.
"Well, then, because we're going to get soup on the way and I'm buying."
She keeps glaring at me for a moment, but gradually it breaks and she smiles. "Fine, whatever. If you insist, I'm not going to stop you."
It's colder out than I expected it to be. Even with a sweater, I still feel the need to stop, roll back my sweater paws and buy us some cocoa to stay warm while we walk the path next to the beach. The salt taste and chill in the air brings back memories of Thursday, and I'm glad that it's too dark to make out my blush. Natsuki insists she's fine in her summer dress, just like she insists she's fine carrying everything while I hold one (1) tray of cupcakes, but seeing as she wouldn't take a coat and won't hand me any more of her supplies, I don't have much leverage to contest it.
"I wish we could spend more days out here like this," I say idly, looking out over the ocean.
Natsuki doesn't reply, and our quiet stroll remains quiet. Maybe she's thinking about Thursday, too. Or maybe she's still thinking about Sayori, about how she was going to cheer her up tomorrow at the festival. Natsuki likes to play that she's transparent, but I rarely, if ever, really know what she's thinking. After reading her poem Friday, I thought I knew, or at least had a clue. But all weekend, it's been clear I still don't know a thing.
"I wish we didn't need the club. Like . . . we could just be normal high schoolers." Natsuki doesn't look up from the sidewalk while she talks, and I can tell her mind is distant, somewhere I don't know how to follow.
"Maybe, if we combined all the club's resources, we could all form together into one whole regular kid." I say before a sip of cocoa.
Natsuki chuckles at that. "Maybe. Or maybe we'd just make the most fucked-up kid in existence. Imagine your parents being gone as much as they are but when they get back they're somehow both sopping drunk and also super into yoga."
I shudder. "God, hold me, you've chilled me to the depths of my soul. I was thinking Sayori's allowance, my fan fiction, and your manga and we're just like, a bookish kid."
"Ew, that's worse. Now we're just Rose."
We laugh for a while, but when we calm down a bit, Natsuki says, "I wish we could just have like, Monika or Rose's parents, though. Neither of them ever mention problems with their parents, do they? Like literally never."
"I don't . . . think so," I reply, trying to think through the few months I've been able to say I actually 'know' Monika. I don't think she's ever brought up her parents, which is probably a good sign. It's not like I'd been very up-front about my family situation either, but how could someone like Monika have problems? She takes singing lessons with a tutor!
Envy coils around my heart and spews its venom. I don't want to be angry at Monika, so it just turns towards the easiest target. "Y'now, it's a good thing I've never met your dad. I'd kill him."
Natsuki's amused. "Oh yeah? He's kind of a big guy. I'm not sure how much luck you'd have with that."
I shrug. "Size isn't much of an advantage when faced with an axe or something."
"Huh. I guess it is a good thing you haven't met my dad."
I know she's trying to be funny, but her heart's not in it. I know I've taken the fun out of this whole conversation. She always acts like this, and I always know she'll act like this, and yet I keep saying stuff like this. I don't know if she dislikes it because she thinks some part of me is serious, or because she thinks I'm not. But I mean it. Given the chance, I think I would kill him again and again, wiping away the horrible future that awaits us both in the end to smile and pretend I don't resent every minute she spends with him. Thinking about what her life is like outside of the club room, outside of these brief walks together, always fills me with something hot and boiling under my skin, trying to melt me down.
Sometimes I wonder if I hate Natsuki's dad so much because I can't bring myself to hate my own properly. If I ever did, rewinding time might not be enough to undo the damage I'd cause.
The urge to cut reminds me of that nervous itch from Thursday, and I wonder where along the beach we were when we kissed.
There is a long pause before we speak again.
I finally start, quietly, "Hey, Natsuki?"
"Hmm?"
"You haven't brought up our trip to the beach at all . . . did I do something wrong?"
Natsuki gives me a quizzical look. "What? Were we planning a beach trip I forgot?"
"Huh?" Then, catching her meaning, I reply, "No, um, I mean this past Thursday. When you and I went out to the beach for inspiration and we . . ."
I can't make Natsuki's face out in detail, and I hope she can't make mine out at all. What is on it? Eagerness? Hesitation? Fear? I don't know. As much as I like to think I can keep a straight face, I know when I get nervous my composure can start to slip.
"I don't . . . remember going to the beach? Are you sure we did that?"
We keep walking normally but I feel frozen. Is she really so ashamed of it that she won't even acknowledge that it happened? That doesn't seem like her at all - she insists you're supposed to acknowledge mistakes and all that. And if this is a joke, it's a cruel joke. She can be dense, but she's not cruel, is she? She wouldn't pretend just to get a reaction out of me, would she?
A worse possibility creeps into my mind. Did I undo our kiss? Did I undo our whole trip to the beach? I certainly don't remember doing so, but maybe I was so embarrassed that I subconsciously wished it had never happened and that we could forget about it, and I'd made that a reality. Have I stolen that whole evening from myself? From Natsuki?
No, no, there's no way. Natsuki and I wrote poems about the beach. Hers had been so cute, it definitely had been about us, hadn't it? Hadn't it?
"Y-yeah, we did. I mean, you wrote a poem about it, didn't you? About our -"
Natsuki shrugs, "Oh, that? I didn't go to the beach for that, I just listened to some music for inspiration."
". . . right."
I don't know what to say. I don't think she's faking. I . . . could I have made that all up in my head? Sometimes I can take day dreaming kind of far, but there's no way I convinced myself that Natsuki's poem was real and about us when that just didn't happen, right?
I don't look up, but I at least ask, "Natsuki, do you remember when we kissed?"
"Huh?" she asks, surprised. Then, incredulous, "What did you say?"
"Nothing," I reply, and give time a quick tug back.
"Natsuki," I start again, "What did you do Thursday after school?"
"Huh?" she asks. "Uhh, I went home . . . and wrote my poem, I guess."
"You guess?" I ask.
"I mean, yeah?" I must have sounded more suspicious than I meant to, because she sounds defensive. "I dunno, Thursday was just, like, a day. I don't remember much of it."
"Do you remember me asking to walk with you after Literature Club?"
"No . . . did you?"
"Yeah," I reply.
"Weird," she says. Then, after a brief pause, "I don't really remember what we did in the club Thursday, either."
"Hmm," I hum to myself for a second. "Strange," I mutter, before I wrap a finger around our timeline and pull us back.
We walk quietly past the same spot for the third time, but this time I have no idea what questions to ask. This is beyond me wiping away one version of Thursday - it's like Natsuki didn't have a Thursday. I don't even think that's within my power intentionally, never mind as a subconscious wish.
For a second I consider tossing aside the past few days to return to our trip to the beach, to live it over and make sure it was all real, to wonder once again if she'd meet me halfway as I leaned on my hands closer to her face. At the time I hadn't known what had come over me, just diving into the small talk to pretend it happened, no idea what that look in her eyes might be.
I know it won't be the same if I try to live it again. Every time I try to experience a good thing a second time with the rewind, it never feels the same, and the only mark I have that it was ever a reality is a memory. I don't want to lose that evening on the beach. Then we'll both have lost it.
Natsuki sighs and says, "Y'know . . . I'd like soup but . . . it's dark. I should already have been back home. Rain check?"
I know the combination of 'no dinner' plus 'violated a rule' is going to have cruel consequences, but if Natsuki is more afraid of it getting even later than she is of going without food, then I am, too. I can always wake up early tomorrow morning, make an extra-big lunch. We should mitigate as much as we can.
"For sure. Plus, we'll want to be up early for the festival, so . . ."
"Definitely."
Natsuki takes all of her supplies while we're still around the corner from her house and disappears with a simple, "Good night." It's not at all how I wanted this evening to go, but it's little different from the few times I've walked with her before. Somehow, while everything about my friendship with Natsuki changed for me, none of it changed for her. Thursday is gone, blank, and I'm just the brooding girl from her club again. I never even got the chance to know if I could have been something different.
I walk home from her house with my hand in my bag, rubbing my thumb along my knife's handle. Whatever has happened to Natsuki, I doubt it's something that's going to jump out from behind a street lamp to spook me, but I can't get away from the feeling that I'm being watched.