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Hitori doesn’t like to talk.
She can speak, but she doesn’t say much. It’s good morning, or weather’s nice, or the clouds look pretty. People give her pallid smiles, but they think she’s banal, and when she talks about how she feels, they think she’s weak and a bit burdensome. Hitori prefers to stay silent.
The voice comes as a whisper, brushing against her ear. A hand gently taps her right shoulder. She jolts, not used to the feeling of being touched. Next to her, she sees Kita’s eyelashes flutter, half-lidded, serious, and pretty.
“Look,” Kita murmurs. Hitori drags her eyes away from Kita to follow the gaze.
A few yards into the hallway, into a door left ajar, she sees them: Nijika and Ryo, bundled in a blanket and asleep on a couch. They’re nearly touching, but not quite, so tiny and tucked away it takes Hitori a second to pick them out.
“They’re cute,” Kita says.
“They are,” Hitori parrots.
Hitori has three friends whom she’s in love with.
She watches Kita’s lips curve into a slow smile and wonders if she can learn to do that too.
Kita says, “When do we tell them we know they’re dating?”
“Are they?”
Kita whispers, “Things feel so natural and easy between them. It’s too bad. I kind of liked Ryo, not that that’s a secret.”
‘I-I don’t think they’re dating,’ Hitori wants to say, but her voice falters when she sees Nijika unconsciously scoot closer to Ryo, and Ryo give a contented sigh.
Be happy for them, she thinks. She looks at how fond Kita is for Ryo, in spite of Nijika.
But when she turns her gaze back onto her two band mates, all she sees is a mirror to her own loneliness and the gnarled roots of a deep, black jealousy.
.
It’s nearly dark outside and the winter chill leaves her ears numb and red. Her scarf is thin, worn and a bit scratchy, but she ducks her head in anyways to try to preserve some warmth.
Starry blows away the cold and blinds her for a second. Hitori pulls the scarf away and huffs. It’s not time to open yet. Sitting on the ledge of the stage with their feet dangling is Ryo and Kita, ducking their heads together over their instruments and whispering under their breath. Nijika yawns behind the drink counter, chin in hand.
Kicking off the snow on her shoes, Hitori ambles inside. She avoids looking at where Kita and Ryo sit and quietly joins Nijika. Nijika blinks the tears out of her eyes before yawning again.
“Good afternoon,” Nijika says. The girl smiles sleepily at her and Hitori adores it. She performs the conversation she knows how to do.
“Good afternoon,” Hitori begins. She sets her guitar bag against the wall. “It’s really starting to feel like winter. Y-you seem tired.”
“I knowww,” Nijika says, and barks out a laugh, “If bears can hibernate, why can’t I?”
Hitori chuckles with Nijika, even though she’s not sure what the joke is. She likes how Nijika laughs. She unwraps her scarf and jacket and drapes it over her guitar bag before turning to pour herself a cup of hot tea. Behind her, Nijika slumps down against the countertop, folding into her arms and kicking her legs.
Hitori looks at the soft baby strands on her neck. She wonders if she’s allowed to brush them.
“Hey,” Nijika starts. “I recently noticed something.”
“Y-yes?”
“Do you see Kita?”
Hitori silently sucks in a breath. She sits down at the table beside Nijika.
“I see her.”
“Look,” Nijika mumbles.
She looks.
Kita’s hair falls over her pretty eyes. She’s focused on her guitar. Her head tilts subtly when Ryo speaks something, a red lock gliding and falling off her cheek. Ryo has a pleased smile on her face. She patiently lets Kita fuss over her guitar, her own arm circling around Kita’s back to cover the guitarist’s fingers over the fretboard.
Gross.
She doesn’t really think that. She wonders why Kita’s lessons with her don’t look like that, why Kita never touches her more than a slight brush on the back or a tap on the shoulder, never initiating but the briefest contact.
“That’s not how you teach guitar,” Hitori says. Her voice falls flat to her own ears.
Nijika whispers conspicuously, “Ryo would never do that, unless she liked someone—”
Hitori blinks.
“—I would know. Ryo hates to touch me.”
“Huh? Really?” Hitori says, off balance.
Nijika shrugs.
“But Ryo’s your best friend,” Hitori says.
Nijika goes perfectly still for just a moment, the kind of stillness she tries to hide behind a languid smile. Then she chuckles and leans up, stretching. “I don’t need my friends to tell me everything. Not even best friends,” Nijika says, turning away.
No no, Hitori thinks, you’re sad. The mushy feeling inside her chest quakes.
“Do you, um, want to talk about it?” Hitori asks.
Nijika waves her hands. “No, it’s okay! It’s not a big deal.”
She probably would’ve told Kita.
Hitori’s feeling dies and she lets the air between them fall into silence.
.
They perform a live.
Kita messes up one of the lines. She stumbles for the rest of the concert. The moment the concert ends, she rushes off stage.
Now, Hitori hears crying behind the closed door of the practice room. Softly, she opens it.
The other girl jerks up, looking at her. Her face is a wet smear. Hitori’s heart twists. Kita shouldn’t look like that. Kita’s brilliant and good and always smiling, so Hitori wracks her brain to find the right words to bring back the smile to her face. But she’s not good at that. They stare at each other for a long, dreadful moment.
Her hands rise from the knob to reach forward, but Kita stands up and brushes past her, knocking Hitori’s shoulder into the doorframe. In her haste, she bumps into Nijika, who comes up behind Hitori.
“S-sorry,” Kita says. Her eyes are red and she’s covering her face with a hand, the other clenching the bottom of her uniform. Nijika’s arms wrap around her. She draws Kita in like a gentle inhale.
“Oh Kita. Kita, Kita. You’re okay, really. Look at me.”
Kita lifts her head minutely.
“No one is mad at you, silly,” Nijika whispers.
Hitori realizes that’s what she should’ve done. She tries to imagine a scenario where she could’ve thought to say those things and comes up empty.
Kita hiccups and fists her hands into Nijika’s shirt. Nijika cradles Kita’s head and brings her into her shoulder. She coos, “Do you want to come up?”
Kita tenses like she’s about to cry more from those words alone. “Th-that would be nice.”
Hitori doesn’t know what to say. She stares blankly as the two disappear up behind Starry’s entrance for Nijika’s apartment.
Ryo comes to stand solemnly beside her, shoulders hunched. She’s a cool shade in summer, pulling back leaves of a sunken willow tree and resting at its quiet base. Silently, she takes one of Hitori’s hand with both of hers.
Hitori jolts, thoughts brushed aside by the touch. She sucks in a breath and watches as Ryo holds her hand up, playing with each individual finger, examining them.
She wants to pull back, but her body’s frozen. Ryo doesn’t touch Hitori. Nobody does, not really.
“Don’t worry about it,” Ryo says, calm as a breeze, ignoring the way Hitori froze. “It’s not you. They only ever show to each other when they feel bad.”
Ryo brushes over the pads of her fingers with soft-feathered strokes. Each touch hurts. It sticks pins and needles into her heart. Her throat is closing up.
“Really?” she croaks.
“Mm.” Ryo continues, “Sometimes, when they think we aren’t looking, I see them holding hands or sleeping on each other’s shoulders. They’re shy and skittish, like little mice. It’s new for them. New for Nijika.” Ryo has a fond look on her face as she says this.
You’re happy for them too, Hitori realizes. More and more, she sees the rift between her and her band mates.
She grabs for things to say. “I-I thought Nijika would be okay with you.”
Ryo smiles wryly. “In the past, I hurt her, so I lost that trust. What we have right now is enough.”
The pieces of Ryo and Nijika are falling into place in Hitori’s fumbling mind, and the picture it forms is broken and bruised, but for some reason, that thought comforts Hitori a little.
She’s so selfish.
Just as Hitori gets used to the touch, Ryo lets go of her hand. Hitori misses it immediately, desperately. This is what Kita gets all the time.
“W-wait,” Hitori finds herself saying. She registers her words and regrets it. Ryo doesn’t touch Hitori. Ryo pulled away for a reason. She doesn’t want to be weird. “N-nevermind.”
The bassist regards her for a moment. “Okay.” A mischievous look wipes the sadness off Ryo’s face. She says, “C’mon, let’s ditch them and grab a bite to eat. They’ll sort it out.”
When Hitori gets home, she flops in her bed. She sleeps but gets no rest. In her dreams, she sees all four of them, but when she wakes up, she feels unsteady.
Her head is like a storm cloud.
She’s jealous and inadequate and it’s exhausting. She wants everything they have—the love, the touch, and the intimacy—but it’s driving her insane.
(If they ever knew, they’d be right to be disgusted with her.)
She has to do better. She can’t let the broken pieces of her ruin things. This is the only happiness she’s had in so long, but she’s watching it deform right in front of her eyes.
Kita likes Ryo. Nijika might like Kita and Ryo. Ryo might like Kita and Nijika.
There’s something there that needs a little push. A plan forms in her head. Hitori needs to do something good for them. She needs to prove to herself she’s better than this.
And by the end, when her friends are smiling together, maybe Hitori can learn to smile with them.
.
Her eyes are heavy and crusty and she’s barely woken up for more than fifteen minutes. She’s been vacantly sitting in her bed and staring at the lines of light that fall from the blinds to her floor. She’s not sure how to go about this. She’s been thinking about this the moment she woke up.
But Nijika, Ryo, and Kita are smart people. They only need to be spurred.
Before she can doubt herself, her hands are dialing a number.
“Hitori, good morning!” Kita chirps.
“G-good morning,” Hitori says.
“It’s so weird to have you call me, I nearly didn’t believe it when I saw your name on my phone.” Kita says, chuckling.
“Ah…”
“So, what’s up?”
She wonders how she should go about this. She decides to rip off the bandaid. “Y-you like Ryo right?”
“Um, yeah!”
“I think Ryo likes you too.”
The line is quiet for a second.
“That’s funny,” Kita says and barks out a laugh. “Ryo doesn’t like me. She thinks I’m frivolous.”
“She’s cuddly with you.”
“Isn’t she like that for everyone?”
“N-no. Not me,” Hitori says. Her voice lowers. “Not even Nijika.”
“...Really?” Kita whispers. “But I thought her and Nijika were dating.”
“I don’t think they are. I think you should confess.”
“You’re saying you think I have a chance with Ryo.”
“Yeah.”
“Oh,” Kita says, swallowing.
The line goes silent again. It’s awkward. This is why Hitori only sticks to good mornings, the weather, and the clouds. She clears her throat and says, “Er, good luck. Bye.”
“Thanks, see ya.”
Hitori hangs up and flops back into her bed.
After a moment, she turns her head into her pillow and exhales.
She did it. She’s not selfish. Now to watch how it plays out.
.
Kita messages her that night.
‘i think I like Nijika too’
Hitori’s hand shakes.
‘go for it’
.
The winter is slowly creeping in, and the days are much colder now.
Her mom had insisted on making sure Hitori is cold proof. As a result, Hitori stumbles towards Starry wrapped in a thermo t-shirt, two sweaters, a coat, and the thickest scarf they had lying around the house. Finding the scarf took an extra ten minutes. Now, Hitori’s late and sweaty.
She presses against the metal door handle to Starry and mumbles a little prayer that Seika won’t be mad. She steps inside and immediately throws her coat and scarf on one of the chairs. Seika waves at her. She’s fine.
Hitori quickly putters down the hallway and wonders if her friends are annoyed at her for making them wait too long.
She turns the knob and steps inside.
Nijika lifts her head from Kita’s shoulder and primly sets her hand in her lap from where she sits on the couch. Ryo’s eyes flick over to her before returning to the phone.
Kita beams at her from between the two. She greets them. They greet her back as usual.
Nijika hops off the couch and puts her hands on her hips. She grins. “Alright, everyone’s here! Let's get to practice then.”
Practice is weird.
Hitori doesn’t hold it against Kita, but she’s usually the weakest link in the band and makes the most mistakes. She fumbles the rhythm, misses a line, or plays the wrong note. When they repeat a section, it’s usually because of Kita.
They stop a lot today, repeating sections over and over. Ryo sighs.
But it’s not Kita’s fault. It’s Hitori’s.
She messes up a section. “A-again?” she calls.
Nijika nods.
But she messes up, and messes up, and messes up.
“Let’s call it a day,” Nijika cuts in, putting down her drumsticks with a clack. Hitori ducks her head and stares at her guitar, dread bubbling in her stomach.
“Is everything okay?”
Hitori jumps. Nijika is next to her, brows knitted in worry.
“Y-yeah. Just an off day…”
“Okay, but if something isn’t alright, tell me okay?” Nijika says.
“I-I think I’m gonna go get a drink of water.”
Hitori exits the practice room in a hurry. She hides inside the storage room and feels faint, pressing her back against the cold wall. There’s sweat covering her forehead and running down her back. She’s shaking, breathing too fast.
It’s embarrassing to be the one that everyone works around.
Eventually, the quiet and aloneness help her settle, and she feels good enough to head back. She blinks. It’s been 10 minutes. That’s too long for water. She heads back, dragging her feet. Her hands freeze on the handle. A slow, terrible feeling breaks over her. Quickly, she opens the door.
The three of them separate. Nijika is pulling back from Kita’s waist as Ryo steps back from the two and glances too fast at the door. While the other two play it off, Nijika in particular is frazzled. She makes sure to smile at Bocchi, but her hands hover awkwardly in the air. Kita has a blush on her face. She laughs and sends Hitori an apologetic smile.
Be happy for them.
But Hitori’s heart is twisting into an unrecognizable monster and her world is shrinking to a point. She smiles at them like she didn’t notice and apologizes for taking so long. The three of them brush it off. They don’t mind.
Hitori finishes the rest of practice in a daze. She doesn’t care if she doesn’t play well anymore.
She goes home quickly, with a curt goodbye.
.
Sometimes, Hitori feels like a shadow in a hoodie.
Other people don’t see her. She slips out of people’s heads the moment she leaves the room.
But more than that, sometimes she feels like a churning shadow of a thing that feels only bitter black things. She hates couples on T.V. and peppy pop songs and romance movies where the duo falls in love and grows through each other.
She has never grown with someone. She had no one.
Now she has three friends whom she’s endlessly grateful for, but she’s learning that sometimes loneliness hurts more with friends.
When she wakes up in the morning, Kita’s message is waiting for her.
‘I found a nice hiking trail’
‘Wanna climb with me?’
The clouds part for a moment and leave her giddy. Kita wants to spend time with her. Hitori closes her eyes and lets her head hit her pillow. It’s been a long time since she’s hung out with Kita alone.
But she can’t do this anymore. She can’t think about Kita without feeling jealous and bitter and the emptiest hole in her chest. She can’t conduct a conversation like this. She doesn’t deserve to be with her, or to spend time with her. Kita deserves better than a friend like her.
Kita will have others.
Hitori declines.
Later, Nijika invites her to the arcade. Later, Ryo invites her to a restaurant.
Hitori declines two more times.
At school, Kita tries to catch her before class starts for a chat, so after the first awkward conversation where Kita begins giving her worried looks, Hitori starts arriving at school just before the bell. Kita has to run to make it back to her class before she even sees her.
Hitori finds new places to eat for lunch instead of the little alcove under the stairs. She calls in sick for Starry, and that works for a week. When that runs out, she tells them Jimihen got sick and needs looking after. Then she tells them her grandma’s visiting. Then, too much homework.
Another week passes.
She can’t stop thinking about them. She can’t stop imagining all the things they’re doing without her. Dates, hugging, kissing, resting together, spending small intimate moments without her.
Saturday morning is refreshingly cool. Winter air bites her nose and leaves her shivering pleasantly. She wraps a shawl around her shoulders, over her warm pajamas, and enjoys the way her slippers crunch on the soft snow outside the front of her house. Hitori breathes the chilly air and grabs the morning newspaper her dad reads. She rubs her eyes and feels better.
“Oh goodie, the paper!” Her dad says. She hands it to him.
Hitori digs into the fridge to pour herself a glass of milk.
Her dad opens the newspapers with a crack. He peeks at her from behind it. “You haven’t been going to band practice,” he says casually.
“I needed a small break,” Hitori says. “I’ll go back soon.” She’s not sure if she’s telling the truth or not.
Her dad nods and goes back to the paper.
Hitori doesn’t check the ringing messages in her pocket. She sets her phone on silent mode and sits down for a quiet breakfast.
When Hitori arrives back in her room, she checks her phone out of morbid curiosity.
4 missed calls. 22 unread messages.
Suddenly, her phone buzzes with another call. Hitori jolts, heart jumping out of her chest. She fumbles for her phone for a second. She doesn’t notice the way her thumb hits the answer button until she hears an audible gasp.
“Hello?” Kita whispers, unsure. “Hitori?”
More words spill from the receiver, but Hitori can’t quite focus. Blood is rushing in her ears.
“...Are you there?”
Hitori swallows around her tongue. “Yeah. Hey,” she says and immediately regrets it. She wants to hang up, but now that she has a word in, it feels harder.
Silence.
Hitori tries to find something to say. “Congrats on your relationship. Is…everyone dating each other?”
“Nijika and Ryo are dating me, but not each other. ” Kita says. Hitori finds that odd. “But let’s cut to the chase. Why are you avoiding us?”
“I’m not,” Hitori automatically replies. “I-I just got busy, that’s all.”
“.....How have you been?”
“G-good! Peachy. I recorded some videos and got so many views and er, national television called and wanted an interview, so I—”
“Is something wrong?”
“No,” Hitori snaps.
“Oh.”
She should’ve just hung up. “I-I’m actually busy with an errand right now. I should go. Bye.”
Kita shouts, “Wait!”
“…What?”
“Don’t hang up yet. Um.” Kita pauses. “I, er, need your advice?”
Hitori wonders why that’s a question.
“The problem is…critical and vital. It’s causing a problem in my new relationship,” Kita rambles.
“Yeah?”
“I have no one to go hiking with.”
Hitori blinks.
.
The blades of grass make a small hiss in the breeze. It’s golden wheat all around, spilling into the cliffside. The ocean hits rocks below them, old and rumbling. Hitori’s watches Kita’s red hair tousle in the wind. She has tied it into a high ponytail which now sways in front of her to the pattern of her steps.
Behind them, the morning sun hangs in the east and casts blue shadows onto the ground. They’ve been walking for thirty minutes and Hitori is ready to collapse, huffing and sweaty, but Kita looks as fresh as the snow.
“Kita?” Hitori gasps.
Kita doesn’t seem to hear her. Her hair sways.
“Kita?” she says again, weaker.
Kita turns her head minutely, not looking at Hitori. “Yes?” She walks onwards without breaking a sweat.
Hitori ends up biting back her words, ‘can we slow down?’
Kita invited her. Hitori needs to bear with it, or else she’d ruin the hike.
Kita pauses her steps before continuing. The ocean beats, the wind blows. It’s roaring in their ears. She says, “Sorry, did you say something?”
“N-nothing.”
Kita doesn’t answer, already moving on and walking ahead. Hitori skurries.
The draft chills them as they trudge through the trail. They come across a small, slow-moving river that they each hop over. They aren’t even talking. Kita walks ahead, and Hitori keeps her complaints silent. She still slows Kita down.
Another twenty minutes pass. The hike begins to take its toll on Kita. The girl’s gasping now, movements sluggish. Hitori eyes the drop of sweat dripping down her neck, running below where the wind tosses the collar of her t-shirt. She looks like a dream. Meanwhile, Hitori’s dizzy. She shouldn’t have accepted. She feels sick but she keeps walking and passing grass and trees and wild mountain flowers, gritting her teeth. There’s spots in her vision.
They make it to the top.
“I can’t believe we did that.” Kita whoops and raises her arms in victory. Despite that, she finds the nearest bench at the vista point and leans against its back, huffing.
Hitori can’t even speak as she collapses bonelessly into the bench. She’s a clammy, sticky mess, panting for air.
“Gonna…throw…up…” Hitori says. Her stomach feels terrible.
“Please don’t,” Kita says, giggling. “Wait, you’re serious.”
“Why…exercise, I, pain…” Hitori groans, “...Throwing…up…”
Kita yelps as Hitori springs up just in time to hurl into the bush next to the bench.
A hand helps pull the hair out of her face as she retches. Another steadies against her back.
Hitori finishes and wipes her mouth with her sleeve. “Urgh.” She feels pathetic.
With a gentle pull, Kita lifts her up and helps her sit back onto the bench.
“You should’ve told me. We could’ve taken a break,” Kita whispers. Hitori shrugs.
Kita goes back to where she leaned on the bench. It’s quieter up here.
The wind throws Hitori’s hair all over her face and gets in her mouth. It’s gross. At the top of the mountain, the ocean stretches out before her to kiss the horizon, deep ultramarine melting into the sky. Hitori finds she can’t quite appreciate it.
“Okay, tell me what’s going on with your relationship and hiking or whatever,” Hitori says miserably. She can’t see Kita from this angle. She feels horribly awkward for avoiding Kita and now that they’re here, she’s not sure what to do.
“Dating is nice,” Kita says.
Hitori listens.
“Ryo is quiet, but she’s reliable. And she’s really, really handsome, so much so that my friends hardly believe that I’m dating her.”
That gets a small laugh out of Hitori. “Even though you’re you?”
Kita is quiet. Then she says, “Nijika likes kisses.”
Hitori’s stomach twists. She didn’t want to know that.
“She’s cute, so freaking cute. She jumps every time I stand too close to her but she tries to play it off and it’s just,” Kita makes a sound, “I wanna squeeze her. So I kiss her.”
“Oh.”
“When we kiss, she squeaks, but she melts into it quickly,” Kita says. A sinking feeling appears in Hitori’s chest. “We aren't trying to hide it from you, but Nijika's a little embarrassed about all this. Ryo is there as well. She starts getting antsy when I leave her waiting too long, so I kiss her too.”
“Mh.”
“Ryo’s touch-starved. Sometimes she hugs me from nowhere, but sometimes she steps away if I stand too close. Especially if she’s overwhelmed. But when she isn’t, she’s surprisingly clingy. She’s gooey, and she nuzzles like a cat.”
“Stop,” Hitori whispers. The wind drowns her words.
Kita continues, “They’re both amazing. I was scared at first to date both of them, but I think we’ve settled into something good for all of us.”
Hitori doesn’t say anything. She stares blankly at the waves. She hears the smile in Kita’s voice.
“We’re all doing well. I’ve never been happier.” Without you.
Her face feels numb.
.
.
.
“They’ve been—”
“Stop,” Hitori says. “Stop talking.”
She doesn’t dare turn around. She doesn’t want to know what face Kita is making.
“That’s all nice and all,” Hitori chokes out. It’s hard to breathe. “I’m sorry, I lied. I can’t do this. I c-can’t give advice. I just, I need to go.” She stands up but Kita clasps her hand.
“Are you going to run away?” Kita asks.
It feels like walls are closing in. Hitori stares at the dirt under her shoes. “I’m, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Please, Hitori.” Kita says.
“L-let me go.”
“You left without a single word.” Kita whispers, then louder, “I don’t know anything because you never tell us anything!”
“I can’t,” Hitori grits. Finally, she meets Kita’s wide eyes. “I can’t be happy for this.”
Kita’s eyes grow wider. “What do you—”
Hitori jerks her hand out of Kita’s grasp. She ignores the dismayed look Kita gives her and backs away.
She’s turning and running back down the trail path. Kita calls after her, but she ignores it. She runs over stone and gravel and wayward roots, past fences and bushes, and already she feels the dreadful exhaustion pulling her down. Her throat is itchy and raw from throwing up and her lungs shake in her chest. She wants to hurl again.
Not even a few dozen strides in, another pair of footsteps easily fall into step behind her. Hitori stubbornly doesn’t look behind her. Her run deteriorates into a ragged stumble, but she drags herself forward.
“Hitori,” Kita pleads.
Hitori ignores her. She puts strength into every step to get away from Kita. Her body feels like a bloody, sweaty rag, and her stomach is cramping and she can barely breathe, but she keeps going. She coughs. The trail looks like a smear, swimming in her vision.
“Hitor—“
Her foot catches something and she crashes into the ground with a thump. Behind her, Kita sucks in a breath and rushes forward, placing her hand on her back as she pulls up on her knees and dry heaves.
Everything is rattling. She can’t focus. She keeps heaving. Hitori wipes her mouth with her dirty sleeve and breathes in shakily.
“D-d-don’t look at me,” she rasps. “Please, please don’t look at me.”
Kita’s voice is gentle. “I’m gonna pull you up now, okay?” Strong hands wrap around her waist and help her.
The words fall out of her mouth. ”No, no no, I don’t deserve—”
“Stop,” Kita says. Hitori’s mouth snaps shut. “Turn towards me.”
Hitori hesitates before glancing at Kita. Kita’s face is set in a steady frown, but her eyes are soft in a way that makes Hitori’s heart shutter.
“Tell me what’s going on,” Kita mutters. One of her hands comes up to brush an unruly strand of hair from Hitori’s face.
Tears are pushing against the back of her eyes. She looks away. “You’re going to hate me.”
Kita raises a brow. “So you’re gonna vomit and pass out instead?”
The sudden comment has Hitori biting back a laugh. Kita looks at her in surprise before breaking into weak chuckles.
Hitori has the decency to feel ashamed. She’s tired and sick, and she feels miserable. She doubts that she could walk if she wanted to, and the way Kita has her arms around her waist, rubbing comforting little circles in her back, her eyes peering curiously at her, has her heart bumbling. She’s too weak. She relents.
“I…I’ll tell you.”
For the first time today, Kita smiles at her. It’s probably the last time she’ll see that smile.
“Seeing you three together hurts me so much.”
She watches with morbid satisfaction as Kita’s smile drops off her face.
“I watch how you're all so happy for each other, but me, I don’t know. I tried to be the same, but all I learned is that I don’t have enough love inside of me. I feel these terrible, bitter things when the person close to me is close to someone else. Isn’t that…” Hitori closes her eyes. “Horrible? Childish?”
With each unclenching word, it's like darkness lifting. All the black twisted things she kept to herself finally make their way out. When she looks, she can’t read Kita’s expression. “What kind of awful friend does that make me?”
Kita is silent. She seems to pause and think. Then, she says, “I don’t know. I can’t really do anything about how you’re feeling. I can’t, you know…” she grasps for words and finally settles sheepishly, “I can’t just not be happy because that makes you sad.”
Hitori grimaces, embarrassment rolling in her stomach. “I-I know. This conversation sucks. It’s not gonna change things and I’m just rambling—“
“But I don’t hate you.”
Her eyes snap to Kita’s. “…You don’t?”
Kita caresses little circles into her back. She never stopped. “I think you look down on our friendship a little too much if you think I’d drop you over a few bad things.”
Oh, so a few more mistakes and she’d—
Hitori recoils back, holding the place where Kita flicked her forehead.
“Stop whatever you’re thinking,” Kita says. “I’m starting to understand you a little better.”
“Okay,” Hitori says mopingly, but for some reason, her heart does a weak tap dance at those words. Understand me?
“It’s getting kinda chilly up here. Let’s head down,” Kita says with a grin. Hitori lets herself be pulled up onto two legs. However, the moment she stands, her legs fail on her.
She shrieks.
“Whoa!” Kita catches her by under her armpits to stop her from collapsing. She barks a laugh. “Wait, what the heck? This is gonna be hard.”
“S-sorry—“
Hitori blinks as Kita ducks under her arm and straightens up with it on her shoulders.
“Comfortable?”
“Er, um, yeah. It’s comfortable.” She can smell Kita’s peach conditioner from this close, but more than that was the smell of sweat and dirt.
They start heading down the trail. Kita grunts from the strain. “I-I…t-thanks,” Hitori mumbles.
They slowly traverse the trail, passing whispering grass and tall, overhead trees. The sun is higher in the sky now. Bits of snow sparkle in the grass. Her weight is heavy on Kita, but she looks at Kita’s face and only sees determination.
Hitori takes a deep breath. “W-wait, l-let’s r-rest a moment.”
“Alright.” Kita stops for both of them until Hitori feels ready to walk again.
Words have been worming in the back of her mind. For a moment, Hitori fears to speak them, but then again, she’d already said so much. So she says, “Y’know, I think uh, I hate myself.”
Kita hums.
“It makes me insecure. I don’t trust a single word that comes out of my mouth. I don’t trust that anything I touch won’t fall apart.”
Kita’s eyes flicker to her. “Huh.”
They come to the little river again. Whereas before, they hopped over it with a simple stride, now the two of them stare at the gentle water. It’s small enough to jump but too wide to walk over.
“Can you walk?” Kita asks.
Hitori laughs. “No. Good luck.”
“Oh my god it’s a foot deep,” Kita says. “My socks are gonna get icky and wet. God. ”
They try to clumsily walk across by hopping the small rocks protruding out of the river. It’s her who slips first, taking Kita with her and sending them collapsing into the water and atop each other, limbs tangling, water splashing, and elbows jutting.
They’re both bent down in the water, soaked and laughing. Kita sits back, propped up by a hand and pushing her hair out of her eyes with a carefree smile. Dabbles of sunlight flickers up at her from the river. Hitori purses her lips.
“By the way, I love you.”
Kita freezes. She turns to gape at her. “W-what?” Hitori watches her cheeks flush red. “Y-you can’t just say that. I wasn’t ready for that.”
“Sorry.”
“No, no I just…” Kita covers part of her face with her arm. “Thanks. I’m flattered.” Then she groans. “Sorry, I’m just processing.”
Hitori laughs.
Eventually, they come down the winding trail. Hitori pries away from Kita and tests a few steps. She’s good. Together, they arrive at the bus station.
“I didn’t realize how much time we spent up there,” Kita says, checking her phone. “Is it weird to say I had fun?”
“No, I also had fun…” Hitori trails off. It strikes her that she’s saying the truth, that even though for all intents and purposes, the hike was a physical and emotional mess, she enjoyed it. For the first time in a long time, Hitori feels the claws of anxiety unwind around her.
“Are you…coming to practice today?”
“I think I will,” Hitori whispers.
When bus 233 arrives, Kita steps on and waves goodbye at Hitori. Hitori waves back. Then the door closes and the bus disappears behind a turn.
Her own bus is supposed to come in five minutes. Hitori’s shoulders droop as she listens to the waves crashing at the rocks below. With a deep breath, she leans back. Not everything feels alright.
Hitori closes her eyes and sits in silence for a moment. Then, she pulls out her phone and dials Nijika’s number.
Nijika picks up on the second ring.
“H-hello Nijika.”
“Bocchi!” Nijika says, “Ryo oh my god it’s Bocchi- hold on a second I’m putting you on speaker. Don’t hang up!
“Bocchi,” Ryo greets calmly. “I’m going to strangle you.”
“You two, hey, er. I’m really sorry for disappearing.” Hitori laughs weakly.
“When you get back I have a list of ten restaurants you have to take me to—”
Ryo yelps over the receiver, and Hitori can imagine the way Nijika pinched the girl’s side. All of a sudden, it hits Hitori how much she misses this.
Hitori hears Nijika pick up the phone from her end. Nijika asks, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I think I’m going to be.”
.
Hitori thinks it should’ve been more difficult to return. She expected to tiptoe around explosive undercurrents and hide beneath questioning looks, but the moment she steps into Starry, Nijika pulls her into a crushing hug. There is the scolding, but there are also the grumpy ‘I was so worried’ and ‘don’t do that again’. Ryo gives her the cold shoulder for a whole five minutes before dragging her away from Nijika and Starry to an impromptu indie show viewing down the block and insisting to pay for Hitori’s food and drinks.
Hitori falls back to it. Time melts quickly in a blur of practice, band, and performances. Hitori plays extra hard to make up for all the practice sessions she misses, and she works extra hard just in case Seika might be mad that she came up with all those excuses to skimp out on work.
The next gig they hold is a street live.
They perform through the cold and work up a sweat by the end. There’s a round of claps, and it’s done. When the crowd parts and turns away, Hitori is gasping, and so are the rest of them.
“Should we,” Kita huffs, “run to the convenience store?”
“I'm fine,” Ryo says. Then she wobbles on her feet and nearly falls. Hitori panics and hovers around Ryo like a hen.
“Um, um, maybe you should rest?”
“You don’t seem fine to me,” Nijika deadpans.
Hitori watches Kita loop her arm around Ryo’s and pull her close. Ryo doesn’t complain. Instead, she lets herself get dragged, and together they stroll towards the Lawnson a few blocks over.
Hitori holds a hand up to her chest. She expects it to ache, and it does. And yet.
Nijika pinches between her brows. “That girl…she ought to stop fronting for one second. Guess we’ll be the ones to pack everything up.
Hitori pulls her gaze away from the two. “Yeah.”
Nijika picks up one of the toms while Hitori takes the bass drum over to the back of the van. Gradually, they move to store each part until just the amps and some wires are left. Hitori takes a break next to the van and leans against its side to catch her breath. Nijika comes up to her and leans beside her.
Hitori wipes the sweat off her forehead.
“Why did you leave us?” Nijika says.
Hitori freezes. Then, she lowers her hand and takes a deep breath.
She knew this conversation was coming. She takes a look over her shoulder to where Ryo and Kita disappeared and finds nobody in the crowd. She looks back and finds a pair of even eyes regarding her. She gulps.
“Do you really want to know?” Hitori mutters.
“Tell me everything.”
The directness makes Hitori’s ears burn. She lowers her eyes to the ground and tells Nijika the truth from the beginning. She omits the part where she’s in love with Nijika.
Nijika’s face is pained by the end. Hitori’s heart drops to her stomach. Then, a hand finds its way around Hitori’s.
“Thanks for letting me know,” Nijika mumbles.
“Yeah,” Hitori says, an octave too high. The hand squeezes hers. She tries to stop a gooey smile from overtaking her face.
Nijka looks at her for a long moment, her own smile fond.
Hitori seizes up. “W-what?”
Nijika says with a laugh, “I feel like I’m seeing you for the first time again. It’s weird.”
.
.
.
“B-by the way, maybe you should consider confessing your feelings to Ryo?”
Nijika splutters.
.
.
The two of them are on another hike. The trail Kita picked this time is a lot more beginner friendly. Instead of silence, this time, they chat about inconsequential things as they climb. Hitori stops them when she gets tired. It’s a working system.
Kita helps Hitori jump over another small stream, holding her hand out for Hitori to grab. When Hitori stumbles, Kita steadies her and pulls her in. Then, the sunlight flicks in a way that reminds Hitori of the last time the two crossed a river. They stare at each other.
Suddenly, Kita looks shy. “I’m sorry I never responded to your confession.”
Hitori would’ve stumbled and tripped if she hadn’t already been grabbing onto Kita.
“Uh no it’s um, it’s totally fine,” Hitori says. She blushes up to her face. “I dunno, I’m fine with it.”
The smile Kita makes at those words is wobbly, almost like she’s conflicted. She says, “I think I have an answer for you. I just…need to wait for two others.”
Hitori’s cheeks burn for the rest of the hike.
.
A month passes before Nijika points it out.
“You’re basically her security blanket. She won’t let you out of her sight for more than a second.”
Kita nods. “She’s obsessed.”
“S-she is?” Hitori asks.
“No I’m not,” Ryo grumbles, and leans her shoulder against Nijika on the couch.
Hitori can’t help but notice that small detail. She flashes Nijika a smile, and Nijika gives her one back, looking genuinely terrified. She follows up with a thumbs up as Nijika seems to decide freezing in place is the best way not to scare Ryo off of her. Hitori tries to smother the laugh bubbling in her stomach. It’s evident she’s doing a poor job when Kita locks eyes with her and immediately turns away to cough conspicuously into her hand. Nijika looks constipated.
“I just need something to fiddle around with sometimes, and Hitori is right there,” Ryo mumbles.
“Lies,” Nijika says.
“I-I didn’t really notice,” Hitori says. It’s also a lie. In truth, she’s hyper aware of how Ryo seems to have suddenly developed the habit of taking her hand and playing with her fingers. Still, despite how sweaty she got, she didn’t mind.
Later, she finds Ryo curving her arms around her waist and leaning on her shoulder to peek curiously at the Oh!Tube video she’s watching. They’re both standing, but Ryo seems to find the position comfortable enough to doze on her shoulder.
Hitori watches the video and holds her breath the whole way through. The touch doesn’t burn. It’s comfortable and intimate in a way that makes her toes curl and her head fuzzy.
When the video ends, Ryo begins to pull away.
No no no. Hitori grabs Ryo’s hand. “Wait,” she says, and digs for courage. There’s spiders crawling in her stomach. “Would you like to w-watch another video? Maybe?”
Ryo grins and settles, arms winding around her.
Dazedly, Hitori thinks Kita is right. Ryo does nuzzle like a cat.
.
On one particularly cold day, Nijika decides to put herself in between Hitori’s open coat and snuggle into her. She sighs contently.
“E-eh?” Hitori’s not sure what to do. Out of the corner of her eyes, she sees Kita and Ryo aggressively miming wrapping her arms around Nijika, so after an awkward pause, she does just that.
“I’m sleepy,” Nijika mutters. “You’re warm.”
Hitori’s heart melts and she tugs Nijika closer.
.
“Look,” Kita says. She turns Hitori’s attention with a touch on the shoulder.
Hitori sees them: Nijika and Ryo asleep in a door ajar, pressed right up against each other. They’re ragged from their recent concert. They breathe heavy and slow, and sleep deeply. Hitori can’t stop the smile that curves on her face.
“They’re cute,” she says.
“Something is happening there,” Kita says, squinting. “But I have no idea what.”
“They’re this close to dating.” Hitori holds her fingers a centimeter apart. Then she squeezes them even closer.
Kita looks at her wildly. “That’s what I thought before, but apparently they’re just close childhood friends. Maybe I need to question my underlying assumptions for intimacy.”
“B-but I think you were right,” Hitori insists.
“I wasn’t,” Kita says. She squints at Hitori.
Hitori’s squints back. They squint at each other all the way until they stop at a vending machine. Then, they silently drink their sodas while squinting at each other over the brims. They finish their drinks.
“Well then, we shall see," Kita says curtly.
“We shall.”
.
Spring arrives, and brings with it a season of light rain and cloudy days.
Her umbrella shakes in the wind. Hitori makes her way to Starry from Shimokitazawa station, watching the rain platter onto cement. She listens to the splashing her boots makes and breathes the winter chill that hasn’t quite receded from the air.
The thick scarf she wore is replaced with the thin, scratchy one that makes her nose itchy when she brings it over her face. The trek to Starry isn’t quite as dark and the air isn’t quite as cold. Snow is an afterthought. She ducks her head and thinks about red things.
She shuffles into the studio and exhales, letting the warmth and the lights wash over her. Half in and half out the doorway, she turns and taps the umbrella outside and shakes the droplets off. Then she bags her umbrella in a plastic bag and enters.
Starry raises the temperature a comfortable few degrees. Nijika, Kita, and Ryo are debating at the bottom of the stairs, seated around the hexagon tables. They don’t notice her.
Ryo is trying to be suave and cool but Kita playfully shoves her in the shoulder and she’s spluttering. Nijika rolls her eyes and makes a quip. Together, they form a bubble around them. A world of three.
A twine of dread is winding slowly around her ribs. The familiar darkness is easy to fall back on.
But Hitori walks forward, brushing off the feeling. She knows when it comes again sooner or later, she’ll be ready.
When they notice her, they welcome her in their own ways. Kita brightens and waves her in. Ryo shrugs, but she can’t quite stop the smile forming on her face.
Nijika laughs. “Bocchi! We were waiting for you.”
Hitori steps into a world of four.