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Mizuki stares at the paper.
Bring your parents to school day! it reads in colorful letters at the top. If she were younger, she would've found it fun, but it's her last year of elementary school, so it's old at this point. It's weird to have a day like this so close to the end of the year, but according to Hitomi, there were schedule complications or something.
The text blurs on the page. Hitomi had given it to her, too, and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder as she did.
“I'll be fine,” Mizuki said, tilting her head away from the other student’s eyes. Her fists clenched on the desk, and she didn't look up at Hitomi’s face, either. She knew her parents were dead. She knew it was recent. But Hitomi didn't need to go out of her way to do this for her.
She can still feel the warmth of Hitomi’s hand in her memories, comforting her despite the fact that she shouldn’t be so upset. So lonely. She glares at the paper because she can’t glare at herself. It's been months since Daddy and Mom were murdered, and yet...
By the time she drops the paper back into her backpack, it's wrinkled where her fingers were gripping it too tightly. She doesn’t end up crumpling it up completely, though, and she doesn’t stuff it into the trash can with the rest of Date's trash. She counts that as a small victory.
At least this year she won't get asked why her parents didn't come.
At least this year she won't have to lie and say that they were too busy with work, too caught up in their responsibilities to come see her class and support her. She'd say, shyly, that her father was caught up in a recording, or interview, or some important meeting, and her mother was… she can’t even remember what lie she used for her. All she knows is that after she came to Date's house, it became too hard to ask. It became easier to just pretend that they wouldn’t give the same answer anyway.
Mizuki clenches her fists by her side before she even realizes that she’s still staring at the place the paper sits in her bag, and that she hasn’t moved from where she’s standing.
When the door opens, Mizuki looks up to see that Date is standing there. It shocks Mizuki for a moment, since she hadn’t expected him to be there, but it brings her comfort to see him, and her nails stop digging into her palms. On his part, he glances from her to her bag, then back to her again.
“What's up, Mizuki?” he asks.
“Nothing you need to know about,” Mizuki frowns, turning sharply away from her backpack and walking to her chair, which she promptly sits down on, pulling out her phone.
“Somehow, I don’t believe you,” Date deadpans. He goes to lean his elbows on the back of the couch, smiling down at her. “I know you better than that, come on.”
“Stupid, I don’t want your input,” Mizuki sticks out her tongue at him, well aware that it’s childish, and not caring. She opens NILE and reads some recent messages Iris had sent her, complete with a ton of emojis. It’s a good distraction from Date, who keeps staring at her. God, he’s relentless.
Date hums. “Well, if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. Just keep being immature.”
Mizuki looks up from her phone to stare at him. “I am not immature! If anything, you’re the one who’s immature, prying into my stuff.” All she wants from him is for him to listen to her, if anything, because it barely even matters, but he won’t even leave her alone when she wants to be.
Date stops leaning against the couch and straightens up. “Well, I was going to do some great guardian-and-child bonding with you, but I guess you’d rather miss out on all the fun stuff I have planned.”
“You’re bluffing.”
“I’m not. Come on, spill,” Date puts his hands on his hips, like he’s trying to be a cool parent, which is gross and not at all true.
Mizuki puffs up her cheeks. It’s stupid. Date won’t even care that much, probably.
“Seriously, Mizuki,” Date gives her a look, and suddenly his stance looks less proud and more disappointed. Mizuki frowns more. “You can’t hide it from me forever. I’ll just have a look through your backpack, if you really won’t—”
Mizuki jumps a little. “No, wait!” She glares at Date. “If you take one step towards my stuff I’ll hit you with my pipe.”
Date throws up his hands. “Well, what do you want me to do, then? Just leave you like this? You’re always trying to get me to worry about you, but whenever I do, you threaten me with violence.” He scoffs. “You’re really unfair, you know that, kid?”
“Yeah, well you’re the one who cheats when we play board games.”
“I do not!” Date exclaims. “Iris was joking about that. I’ve never done any cheating in my life.”
“Hmph,” Mizuki huffs.
Date lowers his hands, and Mizuki looks away from him. She doesn’t want to see the confused and annoyed look on his face, or see how the expression shifts as he talks to Aiba. She stares at her phone, not really reading any of the messages displayed. She wonders if Iris is waiting for a reply while Mizuki is too caught up in her own head.
“Fine,” Date sighs, and Mizuki is pretty sure he’s talking to Aiba, not to her. He’s silent for a long moment. “Mizuki, I won’t pry anymore, but I need you to know that I’ll listen. I just have no idea what’s going on, and I want to help.
Mizuki glances up at him. She’s almost surprised that he doesn’t know, since they’ve been hanging around the Sagan’s place so much. Date’s even gone there without Mizuki, sometimes. She glances away, not sure what to say despite the fact that he’s done what she wanted this whole conversation.
“Hitomi didn’t tell you that we’re supposed to have a ‘bring your parents to school day’?” Mizuki turns off her phone. She pauses. “You’re not like everyone else’s parents, but I was thinking…”
In the corner of her vision, Date steps closer, drawing an audible breath. Mizuki feels something that makes her want to curl up into a ball and never come out at the thought of him being concerned for her. He shouldn’t be. He’s never been the same as Daddy or Mom, and even if he cares about her enough for something like adopting her, he shouldn’t care about this.
After all, she doesn’t want to believe that he’ll tell her that he can’t come. She doesn’t want to believe that he’ll be the same as everyone else. But, she braces herself for it anyway.
“Mizuki,” Date says, stepping around the couch and sitting on the couch close to Mizuki, “of course I’ll go.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and folding his hands together under his chin. His voice is sweet, and his lips quirk up into a soft, almost uncharacteristic smile.
The tension falls out of her body. He didn’t say no. Tears begin to form in her eyes as relief well up inside her.
And of course he didn’t. He’s Date, and he’s stupidly nice to her when he thinks he needs to be. She clenches her hands into fists, somehow overwhelmed by it despite the fact that she should’ve known.
“I won’t be able to perfectly do what Renju and Shoko should’ve done for you,” Date pauses, swallowing, “and I’m sorry that they didn’t, but I can be there for you. You’ll have me there to help.”
“Thank you, Date,” Mizuki says, quietly. The reminder of Daddy and Mom makes her feel conflicted, but not about Date. Not about him being there for her.
“It’s nothing,” Date replies. “I’m your parent, right? I mean, you’re adopted, but legally…”
“You’re so stupid,” Mizuki says loudly, blinking in an effort to stop crying. “You’re acting like you being my parent is some big revelation,” she smiles, “but it’s not.”
Date laughs, quiet, deep. It’s comforting. “I guess not.” He looks away, as if embarrassed by admitting that he thinks of himself as a parent rather than a guardian, despite the legal papers saying that he is. Or, maybe he’s just trying to give her and her tears some semblance of privacy. Mizuki wipes them away as best as she can while the moment lasts.
“So,” Date says after a minute, looking back at her and tilting his head. “How about some parent-child bonding, huh? I picked out a place to get food, if you want to go soon.”
Mizuki sniffs, trying to pull herself together. “What kind of food?”
Date grins. “Remember when I promised you we’d eat out together, before we Psynced together? I know we’ve already gone, but I thought we could go again.”
“Sure,” Mizuki says, then pauses. “But make sure you don’t hold your chopsticks like you usually do. That’s my requirement.”
“Hey, hey!” Date gives her an annoyed look, leaning back. “The way I hold my chopsticks is perfectly fine, thank you very much.”
Mizuki smirks. “Yeah, right. It’s still gross.” Still, no matter how clean and weird his chopstick-holding position is, and no matter how stupid it is for him to be proud of it, and no matter how much she snarks at him, she can’t help but be glad that he’s changing the subject away from school for now. They slip into their banter as if it’s the most normal, most obvious thing in the world.
It’s completely ordinary.