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Honami has been watching her.
She could sense her girlfriend had something she wanted to say from the moment they all met in their apartment’s living space, all dressed clean but casual, from the way her mouth dipped into a frown and her eyes darted her way. Given the sleep Ichika had gotten from the previous night (or… lack thereof…), Ichika thought she looked very nice and had managed to mask the bags under her eyes with makeup very well.
Still, this is Honami, so it’s no surprise she saw right through her. She doesn’t say anything until ten minutes later, when they’re walking through the streets of the city on the way to their favorite restaurant— the target spot for their date night.
“Ichika-chan,” she asks, “did you pull an all-nighter?”
Ichika doesn’t even get a chance to reply. Saki and Shiho immediately whip their heads around to face her, accusation sharp in their gazes; so quick to narrow their eyes. Shiho speaks up first. “You said ‘you just got up early.’”
Ichika raises her hands up. “Woah, I didn’t even say anything!”
Saki huffs at her. “If Hona-chan said you pulled an all-nighter, it means you definitely did.”
“Well,” Honami interjects, putting a hand on Shiho’s shoulder. “I didn’t say she did for sure, I just asked because I thought she looked a bit tired…”
“And you’re always right about it,” Shiho shoots back, glancing at her hand, then at her. In the end, they make no effort to move away, instead appearing content to keep Honami’s hand there as they turn back to Ichika. Despite the fact Ichika is now receiving all their attention, she huffs a fond laugh at the silent exchange. “Why’d you stay up all night?”
“Well, I didn’t really,” Ichika mumbles. “I had a nap.”
“For thirty minutes before breakfast on the couch,” Saki points out, nudging Ichika with a stern shoulder.
Honami makes a face. “I wouldn’t have woken you up if I had known that was the only sleep you’ve gotten.”
Ichika waves her guilt away. “No, it’s fine. I’m hardly tired anyways.”
Shiho raises an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. You never even answered my question.”
“Uhmm…” A part of her doesn’t want to admit it, but she’s sure they’re already speculating about it anyways. There’s really nothing else she could end up getting lost in for eight hours throughout the night. “I had an idea for a song, and so I started it, and then before I knew it…”
Her three girlfriends sigh individually. “I knew it,” Shiho says.
“You’re just like Yoisaki-san,” Honami mumbles, probably recalling the many times Kanade spent the night working on her music. Honami had stopped working for her in her third year of high school, but still visits her frequently; often just to enjoy a nice lunch. Sometimes Ichika tags along. They met her just last week, actually. Maybe she’s the source of this sudden inspiration.
“Only making music could keep Icchan up all night,” Saki giggles.
“Uhm, you’ve kept us up plenty at night with all of your conversation,” Shiho corrects her.
Saki shoots them a charming grin. “Is wanting to talk with my three wonderful, beautiful girlfriends a crime?”
“It is when I’m trying to sleep,” Shiho mutters dryly, but Saki’s flattery has taken effect, and their cheeks tint a faint rosy pink. Saki gives them a smug little smile, scooting closer to try and rest an elbow on their shoulder in addition to Honami’s hand. This proves to be too much for Shiho, who ducks and shrugs the both of them off, finally turning down the street to keep walking forwards. “Don’t touch me.”
“I love you too, Shiho-chan!” Saki calls, chasing after them to walk by their side. Ichika watches as Saki promptly ignores what Shiho said and reaches out to intertwine their fingers. Shiho doesn’t pull away.
Ichika laughs, moving to follow the two. Honami falls into place next to her. She gives Ichika another stern look. “Really though, are you alright?”
Ichika shrugs it off again. “I’m fine,” she reassures. “I don’t feel tired at all.”
“You say that now,” Honami mutters, reaching over to brush away a stray strand of hair that had fallen in front of her face. Ichika stills, going cross-eyed in an attempt to watch her work it back into its original spot amongst her bangs. “But you’ve been known to crash early after all nighters in the past.”
“You better not fall asleep during our date,” Shiho adds in from ahead, not even bothering to turn around. Saki does, shooting Ichika a teasing glare that is promptly returned.
“I won’t!” she shouts back.
Honami sighs at the antics. “I hope you’re right. Come on, let’s catch up.” And then her hand is clasped against Ichika’s and they pick up the pace, longer legs easily covering the ground their girlfriends had put between them. Soon, they’re all together, side by side as they always are.
—
Ichika has severely overestimated her ability to stay awake.
Dinner was fine. She was only running off of breakfast and an extremely light lunch, so there was no shortage in room for her stomach to fill up on food. They’d all gone to a more casual sit down place that never fails to serve them amazing meals; good for Ichika, because dinner tasted incredible, and bad for Ichika, because she is now very full.
Walking out of the restaurant into a lazy sun that shines down upon them felt like being hit with a truck.
Indoors, the air was cool and the fans spun overhead and the constant movement of a breeze was enough to keep her awake. Outside, walking to the theater, the sun beams upon her and soaks into her skin, and it feels so nice and so warm that if she closed her eyes she fears she’d melt into a small sleepy puddle on the floor. Now, Ichika’s a little afraid for the next part of their date at the movies. If she’s stuck in a comfortable chair for two hours…
“Feeling sleepy?” Saki teases to her left, nudging her with her shoulder.
Ichika gives her a glare. “What, because I yawned?”
“It’s a telltale sign of feeling sleepy,” Saki informs her, adding a fake degree of seriousness to her tone, like she’s a doctor diagnosing Ichika with something tragic. Ichika just rolls her eyes, a smile on her face as she walks past Saki to enter the theater.
The four of them get their tickets, load up on overpriced snacks (“We cannot go to the movies without getting popcorn and candy!” Saki complains as Honami tries to get them to pass on the food in the name of saving money. They end up with two large buckets), and file into the theater.
Thirty minutes in, Ichika realizes she’s fighting a losing battle.
The movie is interesting enough, but she keeps finding herself zoning out, or her eyes trying to flutter asleep. Digging her nails into her right palm, Ichika squints stubbornly up at the screen. It doesn’t help that Saki is on her left, holding her hand and making soft circles on her skin with her thumb. The repetitive motion just adds to her lull.
“Icchan?” she hears Saki ask. “Are you falling asleep?”
“No,” Ichika mumbles in response, continuing to narrow her eyes at the screen in an attempt to keep it focused. Saki just laughs and squeezes her hand, going back to the movie. Ichika takes it as a sign she’s in the clear and yawns, letting her head fall back.
She really doesn’t want to fall asleep, but she keeps catching her eyes drifting shut. Every time, she’ll shake her head to stay awake, and every time she’ll feel her brain nodding off again. Her eyes hurt with the effort of keeping them peeled. It won’t hurt to close them for one second, she thinks for the tenth time, letting them slide closed.
This time, they don’t open up.
Ichika’s always been a dreamer, but nothing comes to her during her short nap in the darkness. Maybe it’s the fact Saki’s hand never leaves her own, grounding her to reality in a way only her girlfriends really can.
An unspecified amount of time goes by before there’s a hand on her shoulder and her body is being shaken. Her eyes slowly peel open.
“—chan? Icchan? Hey, she’s awake!”
“Ichika-chan?”
“Did you seriously fall asleep?”
Ichika blinks slowly, disoriented and confused. Why is it so dark? Where is she? Where are her friends? As her vision gradually comes back to her, all her questions are answered: she’s in the movie theater, the credits are rolling, the lights are fading back to a dim, and the faces of Saki, Honami, and Shiho all peer down at her as they stand around her chair.
“Hrk—“ she groans, to answer Shiho’s question.
“She did fall asleep,” Saki says, and laughs, shooting Shiho a smug grin. “I won the bet. You owe me money now.”
“That’s not fair,” Shiho complains, crossing their arms. “You sat next to her. You told me she was still awake.”
“She was,” Saki insists. “And then she fell asleep.”
“I’m not paying you.”
“Hey! You—“
As the two of them bicker, Honami offers a hand out to Ichika, smiling at her gently. Ichika, still more than a little disoriented, stares at it blankly for a minute, trying to clear sleep from her eyes. “Is the movie over?” is the first thing she actually manages to get out— a stupid question, seeing as everyone is leaving around her.
Honami allows herself a little giggle, but doesn’t tease her for her obliviousness. “It is,” she confirms. “It’s time to go now. Are you awake enough to walk home?”
“Mmmmm,” Ichika acknowledges blearily, accepting Honami’s hand. The taller girl helps pull her up, steadying her as she wobbles. “I didn’t… mean to fall asleep.”
Honami plants a quick kiss against her cheek. “I know, dear. You’re just tired. Let’s get you home so we can go to bed.”
Ichika doesn’t protest. She only yawns, scooting in closer towards Honami. Honami is warm too. Just being next to her makes her feel sleepy. Shiho and Saki are still bickering, but stop as Honami and Ichika take a step forwards; motioning them along to follow them out of the theater and out of the doors. It’s dark outside, and she’s hit instantly with night’s chill: a blast of cold air harsh enough to snap her just a tiny bit more awake.
Shiho’s the first to speak when they’re outside. “No more all-nighters on date nights.”
“I only… fell asleep for the ending,” Ichika mumbles lamely, thankful that the sun has already set. The sun would’ve hurt her eyes. As it is, her eyes already hurt. She thinks Honami’s hand clasped against hers is the only thing keeping her moving right now, without it she may as well give in and lie on the floor. She feels a bit frazzled— she was never one to handle naps well.
I can’t believe I fell asleep in the movie theater, she grumbles internally, knowing that her girlfriends are going to use this night as a story of entertainment for years to come.
“Okay. What was the movie about?” Shiho counters.
Ichika opens her mouth, then pauses, unable to answer. She resorts to summarizing what she remembers from the trailer. “It… it was a love story between this girl and this guy—“
“That is the most basic summary I’ve ever heard,” Shiho says with a chuckle, a small smile on their face as they watch Ichika stutter towards a response. Their teasing has turned to fond admiration, and the fact that Ichika has picked up on that makes her blush. “It’s alright. It wasn’t very good to begin with.”
Honami frowns. “You didn’t like it?”
Shiho shrugs, putting their hands in the pocket of their hoodie. “I thought it was cheesy.”
“Don’t act like you haven’t gotten totally flustered by way less,” Saki retorts, bounding over to wrap an arm around them.
Shiho flushes red. “What… hey… t-that’s different—“
Saki laughs. “You’re a bit cheesy too, Shiho-chan.”
Ichika and Honami both laugh, and that’s how the night goes before they return home: walking hand in hand, giggling and bickering as they always do. When they do arrive home, Honami practically picks Ichika up, and despite her squirming protests she’s carried to their bedroom and unceremoniously dumped onto the bed. She can hear the amusement in Shiho’s voice and the mischief in Saki’s as they wish her goodnight, waiting for Honami to exit before promptly slamming the door.
Alone in the dark, listening to her girlfriends whispering behind the shut entrance, Ichika lets out a loud laugh, her heart swelling with warmth. This is so ridiculous. Only those three would practically drag her to go sleep after an all-nighter.
…she still needs to brush her teeth, though…
——
Lazy days like these are some of Saki’s favorites.
Don’t get her wrong: she loves action more than anything! She love love loves days where she can grab her girlfriends’ hands and run around the city with them, days where excitement eats her alive when they have shows later that night. Energetic is certainly a word used to describe Saki Tenma, and she wouldn’t want to be called anything less.
However… Saki loves these quiet, uneventful days too. Those perfect days when their schedules lineup so uneventfully and all four of them have the day off to lounge around their shared apartment.
Their little home feels so alive right now. Ichika has claimed the armchair near the window, humming softly to herself as she idly plucks out notes on a guitar not powered on. There’s no amp nearby, so it lacks its usual power, but the different sounds it makes is still music to Saki’s ears. Ichika’s hardly paying attention to her playing; she’s got her wired headphones in and is staring down at her phone, her guitar an afterthought. Saki assumes she’s watching a video.
Honami is in the kitchen, probably beginning to prepare for that night’s dinner. It’s still closer to noon than it is evening, but Saki knows Honami likes going all out on days where she’s sure the four of them will actually have the time to sit down and eat. Saki can see a variety of ingredients already propped out on the counter, but right now Honami is only brewing tea, multitasking with the chore of washing the leftover dishes from the frozen meals they ate the night prior.
Finally, there’s Shiho, who’s selected the very end of the couch to stretch out; legs propped up on the ottoman in front of them. They have their computer in their lap and are staring at it with a very concentrated look. She would’ve guessed homework, if Shiho was still attending classes like the rest of them. In fact, that’s what Saki had been doing so far today; finishing up some homework for her English credit class.
“Ah, Saki-chan!” Saki glances up at the sound of her name, meeting the warm eyes of Honami as she swings the bedroom door shut behind her. “Finished with your homework?”
“Yep!” she replies, laughing. She bounces over to the kitchen and wraps her arms around her girlfriend, planting a kiss against her cheek. “All done for the day.”
Honami returns her kiss. “That’s good to hear. Any other plans now?”
“Nope!” Saki gives her a blinding smile. “Isn’t it great?”
“Fantastic,” Honami agrees, chuckling. “I think that new episode of the show we’ve been watching is airing tonight. We can watch it after dinner.”
Saki gasps. “You’re right! It’s Sunday! Oh, perfect!” She gives Honami another kiss. “It’s a date, then.”
Honami’s cheeks turn red. “Awh, Saki-chan…”
Saki smiles at her again, before shuffling over to the living room to investigate what the other half of the band is doing. Ichika hasn’t noticed her presence at all, too engrossed in her own activities and in her own little world. Saki spares her a fond glance— there’s something so endearing about a hyper focused Ichika chewing on her own drawstring, eyebrows narrowed slightly onto whatever she’s concentrating on— before turning to the main target of her desires: the bassist on the couch, who has no idea what’s coming.
Saki walks up to them with her hands behind her back and the desire to be held.
“Shiho-chan, whatcha doing?”
“I’m working,” Shiho deadpans, not looking up.
Saki frowns. “On your day off? No you’re not.”
“I’m answering emails,” they sigh, finally lifting their gaze to give her a light glare.
Saki crosses her arms. “Boring. I want to cuddle.”
The bassist sputters at her audacity, but they don’t have the chance to do anything before Saki is flopping down next to them and pushing herself into their arms, resting her head on their stomach and grinning up at them as they yelp and raise their hands. She wriggles slightly, and their computer is pushed forwards to their knees to give her enough space to get comfortable. Finally, she raises her hands and loops them around Shiho’s neck, pulling them closer to her. “That’s better.”
“Saki!” Shiho gasps, ignoring the way Honami laughs at them from the kitchen. “What are you–?!”
“I want a kiss,” she whines, a pang of smug victory flaring through her as she feels the way Shiho’s breath hitch. “Please? A little break? For me? I’ve worked so hard today.”
“It’s true,” Honami calls over the counter. “That homework wasn’t easy.”
“You are not helping,” Shiho snaps at Honami. They glare down at Saki. “I– I said I was busy…”
They falter when Saki uses her signature move: puppy-dog eyes. Saki blinks up at them with the widest eyes she can muster, poking out her lip in a pout. It’s almost comical how quickly a blush overtakes Shiho’s cheeks, and she watches up close as their resolve to push her away dies. With a loud, groaning sigh, they reach forwards and shuts their laptop, placing it on the coffee table beside them. “Fine. A small break can’t hurt.”
And that’s how Shiho and Saki end up sprawled across the couch, Shiho’s face marked with lipstick that’s almost as bright as their blush.
One long makeout session later, Saki is laying on top of her girlfriend, enjoying the feeling of Shiho’s arms around her and the sound of their heart beating in their chest. They’re both breathing heavily, having spent more time in a kiss than not. Saki tightens her hand around Shiho’s sweatshirt, smiling coyly as she glances down at their face.
“You’re so cute,” she tells them, and she delights in the way simple compliments manage to fluster.
Shiho averts their eyes, running a hand through Saki’s hair. “You’re cuter,” they say softly, almost like they don’t want her to hear.
She giggles anyways. “Awhhh, Shiho-chan.” She gives their cheek another quick peck, then rests her head down completely on their chest. “You’re the best.”
Whatever Shiho says next is lost to mumbles, but she feels them pull her in tighter, and she smiles, allowing herself to soak in their warmth. The two of them stay in this position, Shiho occasionally weaving their fingers through her blonde strands, eyes focused on the show that plays on their television. Eventually, Saki feels her eyes start to grow heavy, and her grip on Shiho’s shirt starts to loosen.
She’s so sleepy. Maybe it was the extra energy she used when she was, ahem, being a good girlfriend, but she finds it hard to keep her gaze focused on the screen in front of her. Shiho’s breathing underneath is so rhythmic and soothing; that steady strong sound you’d expect a bassist to produce. She supposes she can indulge in her desire to nap. Saki loves taking naps. One might even call them the best part of the day. There’s nothing better than falling asleep on the love of your life, on lazy days where nothing is happening and she’s done with all her work and she can just enjoy the domestic little life they’ve built together.
She lets her eyes close, content.
Shiho seems to sense where this is going. “Saki,” Shiho threatens, “you better not fall asleep on me.”
“Mhm,” Saki agrees, falling asleep.
“I mean it,” Shiho reiterates, making no move to shift or shove her off. “If you fall asleep on me, I won’t be able to move at all, and we agreed that this would just be a quick break, not—”
Saki doesn’t hear the rest of her girlfriend’s rant. In fact, the sound of their voice is almost like a lullaby. She falls asleep, surrounded by the noise of the girls she loves more than anyone else in the world.
An unknown amount of time passes in their little apartment for the sleeping girl. Her nap is peaceful. She could probably sleep on top of Shiho all day (and night) if allowed, but soon enough her slumber is disturbed with a hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her awake.
“Saki-chan, Shiho-chan…”
“They’re going to be so grumpy for dinner.”
“Shh, Ichika-chan.”
“I’m just saying—”
“Dinner?” Saki interrupts, sitting up entirely too fast for someone who was just unconscious.
“Get your hand off my throat,” someone wheezes beneath her, and when she looks down she realizes she just sprang to life on top of Shiho. Her arms are propping her body up on top of them: one hand on their shoulder, the other near their windpipe.
“Ack, sorry!” Saki yelps, yanking her hand away, which proves to be the wrong move because what her sleep-riddled brain failed to remember was she kind of needed both of those to keep herself up. She collapses onto Shiho, which earns her a sputtering shout. She rolls off them and lands on the floor, blinking up at Honami and Ichika with baffled eyes.
Ichika quickly kneels next to her. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, thanks,” Shiho huffs, voice strained. Their voice sounds slightly slurred, and Saki realizes they must have been sleeping, too. The knowledge makes her smile. That means Shiho was as tired as she was, so Saki did nothing wrong by falling asleep on them. They can’t hold it over her now! But, wait—
Saki pouts at Ichika, remembering what she said. “You called me grumpy.”
Ichika blinks, startled. Apparently that wasn’t the response she had been expecting. “Well,” she starts, “you are pouting at me right now.”
Saki keeps pouting at her. Ichika only laughs, grabbing her arm and then reaching over to the count to grab Shiho’s. “Come on, darlings. It’s dinnertime.”
Saki shakes sleep out of her head, clasps Ichika’s hand with her own, and allows herself to be pulled to her feet. The four of them sit around the table, enjoying the wonderful meal Honami has prepared. She listens to the three of them talk, feeling too tired to interject as much, but enjoying the sounds of their voices. Every day feels like she’s falling in love all over again.
She loves lazy days like these.
——
Honami is the earliest riser of the four.
It’s become a bit of a tradition for herself, she supposes; her routine in the morning. She’ll awake in a pile of limbs and tousled blankets and smile softly to herself before carefully untangling herself from her girlfriends and stepping silently out of the bedroom. She’ll take a moment to glance back at them and their sleeping forms before gently closing the door.
Usually, she’ll start brewing coffee and she’ll grab whatever book she’s currently reading and curl up on the couch while waiting for the others to wake up. She’ll turn the television on and let the morning news play quietly in the background as she reads. That’s the routine she pictures when she imagines waking up in the mornings.
She certainly isn’t used to being up at 4am.
Honami thought she was reading the clock wrong when she first woke up, squinting at the nightstand and trying to comprehend the numbers that stared back. Her head feels much more muddled with sleep than usual, and so she just grumbles to herself and pulls the covers closer to her chin. Next to her, Shiho shifts slightly, curling up closer to her back, and Honami manages a small smile before closing her eyes again, attempting to fall back asleep.
She realizes very quickly that’s not happening tonight.
The next time Honami opens her eyes, it’s 4:45, and she gives up on trying to squeeze in any more sleep. Her brain just won’t let her tonight. Sighing, Honami takes five minutes to lay there with her eyes half-open, before carefully navigating around Shiho to climb over them and out of bed.
The sun still has two hours before it will rise. Honami takes the opportunity to walk to their apartment’s window, leaning against the glass to stare up at the stars. The blinds to the window in the living room are never closed. It was a compromise between the three of them and Ichika.
In her childhood bedroom, the guitarist would sleep with her curtains wide open, leaving nothing in the way of the morning sun and sensitive eyelids. Honami thinks she wouldn’t have minded that arrangement— she’s usually up before the sun rises anyways— but it was a hard no from Shiho and Saki, who slept well into the morning.
Despite her protests of needing the sun to wake up, Ichika conceded with a huff in the end. The others promised to never shut the blinds in the room outside in return— not that it’d have much use in waking anyone up, but it was the best they could do. For the first two months, Ichika would make passing comments about those curtains, which would always end with mock-arguments and pillows being thrown.
Honami smiles to herself as she recalls the memories of when they were still teenagers, moving into their own house together for the very first time. The fact that it’s already been a few years since graduating high school feels… weird, to say the least, but every moment since has become a treasure she holds close to her heart. Even something as simple as pressing her forehead to the cool glass and watching over the city and stars is enough to make her happy.
She pulls away, glancing back at the clock. It’s 5:15 now. A yawn tugs at her lips. She has no idea what she’s going to do for three hours in silence.
She opts to go make coffee like usual, making sure to stay extra quiet as she creeps around the kitchen. The others are all relatively heavy-sleepers, but she’s always been cautious about making noise. She’d rather not risk waking anyone.
With a sigh, Honami retrieves a mug and makes herself a cup of tea— her preferred drink in the morning. She settles down on the couch and opts to leave the television off, not ready for the peaceful silence to be broken before dawn. For a while, it’s nice. Just Honami and her book; a romance novel that her mother had recommended to her in passing during one of their latest conversations. She’s been enjoying it so far, even if the contents are what Shiho would probably consider “too cheesy.” Saki would laugh and just tell them they didn’t get it, they’re not a “romantic like me and Hona-chan.”
She reads a few chapters before glancing up at the clock again, wondering how much time has passed. Surely Ichika will be waking up soon—
It’s 6am. It hasn’t even been an hour.
Honami groans, bookmarking the chapter she stopped at and closing the book. She’s not used to waiting this long. She feels a little bit like Saki— sitting here, being impatient over what times her girlfriends emerge from their room. It’s so quiet when everyone else is asleep, and although she enjoys the peace while preparing everything for the day ahead of them, once she’s finished with her routine and finished reading her book she’s left with nothing else to do.
Her gaze darts back towards the kitchen.
If she were one of her sleeping girlfriends and her girlfriend (who loved to bake) was up early enough to bake a nice breakfast, wouldn’t she like it if she woke up to the smell of fresh pastries wafting through the house? The answer is, from the perspective of a girl who’d rather be cooked for than do the cooking (not that any of them are opposed to cooking, except for Shiho, who frankly Honami hardly trusts alone in the kitchen anyways), she would love to wake up to the smell of fresh pastries.
This is how Honami ends up making muffins before the sun has even started to rise.
She works quietly, opting to mix the batter by hand and paying careful attention to the oven to ensure she catches it just before the timer goes off, not wanting the sound to wake the others. Another hour goes by of working, and just as the sun has finally begun to rise, she’s pulling two trays out of the oven with her mits and placing them softly on the counter. One dozen blueberry muffins— a favorite amongst the group. Honami leans back, wiping her hands on her apron. She feels pleased with her work.
Not even five minutes after finishing, she’s greeted by the sound of floorboards creaking, and a second later the door to the bedroom is slowly pried open. Out comes Ichika, sticking her head blearily through the crack in the door.
“Is someone… baking?”
Despite herself, Honami feels her heart flutter.
Ichika looks so cute. Her voice is heavy with sleep, betraying the fact she likely woke up a few seconds ago. Her hair, which already sprawls in messy strands around her head, has clearly not been brushed and sticks out in several different directions. She peers out into the kitchen, squinting, her icy eyes hidden by eyelashes as she blinks to adjust her vision to the light. She’s still dressed in her pajamas— long plaid fleece pants and a Miku t-shirt for a top. Everything about her is messy and half-awake, but her expression still softens when it meets Honami’s, and Honami thinks she looks as gorgeous as ever.
“Good morning, dear,” Honami says, smiling widely. “I made muffins.”
Ichika’s face betrays her confusion. “You… baked muffins?”
“I baked muffins.”
Honami giggles at the expression Ichika makes. Slowly, she pulls herself fully out of the room and gently shuts the door behind her, padding across the tiled floor to wrap her arms around Honami and bury her head in her shoulder. “Mmmm. I thought I smelled something good,” she mumbles. “How long have you been up?”
Honami plants a kiss against her head. “Since four,” she admits, running a hand down Ichika’s back.
Ichika pulls away from her, shocked. “Four? Honami—”
“I couldn’t sleep,” she says, shrugging. “And I decided I wanted to do something nice for you three for when you woke up.” She smiles softly. “They’re blueberry.”
It’s always been able to read Ichika, but when she’s held back by sleep, it’s especially easy to watch how her features soften and shift. Her love blooms in her eyes like the flowers she spends so much time speaking so fondly of. This is the language of Ichika: her tender smiles and her sparkling expression, the embarrassed little strand of hair she twirls with her finger and the rose-colored blush that spreads lightly across her cheeks. She’s such an open book, and her reaction delights Honami in so many ways.
“You—” Ichika starts, then pauses, looking for words. She settles on showing, not telling. Leaning forwards, Ichika plants a kiss against her lips, placing her arms on her hips as she does. The two of them stay like that for a quiet moment, hands on hips and hands on shoulders, before Ichika pulls back and smiles. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” Honami says pleasantly. “I’m glad you like the surprise.”
The two of them eat a muffin together in silence. Honami gives Ichika the chance to wake up.
Unfortunately, now that Honami is once again off her feet and sitting down, she feels the early morning beginning to catch up to her. Whenever Ichika yawns, so does she, but they’re embarrassingly long and loud. She catches Ichika sneaking glances her way as she eats, and winces, bracing herself for the coming comments about sleep.
Everyone else here pulls all-nighters like they’re nothing, she thinks, more amused than anything, but I get up at four one time and suddenly it’s a problem.
After what’s probably her fifth yawn, Ichika stands up, grabbing her hand. “Come cuddle with me,” she says suddenly, blinking at her with those lovestruck eyes.
Honami makes a noise. “All of a sudden?”
“Never too sudden for cuddles,” she says stubbornly, lightly tugging on her arm. Honami complies, letting herself be pulled up and into Ichika’s arms. “Also, I’m cold.”
“You’re always cold,” Honami murmurs, running her fingers across Ichika’s skin. She wasn’t lying; her skin has risen to goosebumps. Still, Honami can sense the ulterior motives in the vocalist’s request. She gives in without a fight. “Well, I suppose it can’t be helped.”
The grin Ichika gives her sets her soul aflame. The two of them pile onto the couch, Ichika taking the corner to prop herself up in, and Honami laying back against her chest. She pulls a blanket up over them both as Ichika fishes for the remote, turning on the discovery channel to see what early morning documentary they can entertain themselves with. Honami finds it hard to pay attention as Ichika wraps her arms around her, her cooler skin contrasting the warm covers piled around them wonderfully.
Another yawn escapes Honami. She figures it wouldn’t be bad to give in. She’ll always love falling asleep in the embrace of those she loves. Sleep comes to her easily. Her head comes to rest against Ichika’s chest, and it only takes a few minutes to be claimed by dreams.
Two hours later, when Shiho and Saki finally join them, they’re greeted by the smell of blueberry muffins and the sight of a sleeping Honami curled up in Ichika’s arms, finally getting the rest she deserves.
——
It’s not often that Shiho can say work truly wears them down.
They work at a livehouse— they’ve worked at this livehouse for over four years now. It’s never become anything more than a part time job; before Leo/need, it was a high school job, and now that they’re a professional they’ll spend weekdays helping out their old manager and training new staff. It’s essentially just an additional means of income for the four of them to save away, but it’s also a way Shiho can continue doing the things they love even when not directly with the band. Shiho enjoys the environment, and the extra money never hurts.
But sometimes, working here, on top of working at an agency and being a musician and being really busy with everything, their livehouse position becomes more of a drag than a joy. They felt like they had gotten no sleep last night, and life decided to punish them because of it. Today was relentless. Equipment failures and short staffed, it was practically just a few of them running the afternoon shows. On top of that, Shiho had to sort out a dispute between some of the customers, and now they’re just really not in the mood for anything besides going home and laying on the couch.
They couldn’t have gotten out of that building fast enough. Now, standing near the train stop and squinting up at the sun, Shiho waits for the others.
They’ve fallen into a little bit of a routine, the four of them. With the others attending classes at University and Shiho sticking with their job, it was often the case that at least a few of them were out at the same time. They’d finish their days at around the same hour, and then take the train together back to the station closest to their apartment.
Today, it’s Honami and Saki they’ll be riding home with. Ichika only had online classes, which means she’ll be waiting for the three of them to return. Hopefully with dinner prepared. And with the bed ready to collapse into. Oh dear, Shiho thinks, realizing they’re probably going to end up moping around a little bit at home before calming down. Maybe I should warn her in advance.
No, that won’t be necessary. They’re not that out of it. Just a little overstimulated. And a lot tired. An early bedtime sounds so nice right now. They just have to survive the train home.
“Ah! Shiho-chan!”
Shiho glances away from the clouds at the sound of their name, nodding as they find Saki and Honami approaching. They both have their bookbags slung across their shoulders, marking them as the college students they are. Saki has her reading glasses on, hair still pulled in pigtails, while Honami wears hers down. They both give Shiho blinding smiles.
“Hey,” Shiho greets casually, trying to keep the wariness out of their tone. It seems they fail, because the two of them both shoot Shiho a concerned glance, and they send a mental curse to the heavens for being so easy to read by their girlfriends.
“How was your day?” Saki asks, clearly reaching for a certain answer, but not directly asking Shiho “on a scale from one to ten, how much do you feel like murdering someone?”
Shiho huffs. “Fine. Just busy.” They bite back a yawn. “Come on,” they say, eager to get home. “Train’s departing soon.”
They turn around and miss the glances Honami and Saki exchange. Saki tilts her head, but Honami just shrugs, moving to follow. The three of them board the train and manage to snag three seats next to one another. It’s surprisingly uncrowded for a Thursday evening. Honami takes the middle seat, with Shiho on her right and Saki to her left. Shiho doesn’t say much as the train rolls to a start, letting their girlfriends do all the talking.
In fact, they take this moment to get lost in their voices, trying to block out all the noise around them and just hear them. It works, mostly. Unfortunately, by focusing too hard on the conversation at their side, they lose the ability to focus on staying awake.
The motions of the train makes them feel lethargic. That’s the last thing they remember thinking.
—
Shiho’s head comes to bump Honami’s shoulder, and she doesn’t think anything of it at first. Instead, she opens her mouth and turns, a question taking over her tone as she begins by asking “Shiho-chan—?”
The name is cut off when she does move, finally getting a good look at the bassist. Their eyes are closed and brows relaxed, unbothered by their messy bangs that have fallen out of line.
“Shiho-chan?” she whispers again, just to be sure, and in response their form only seems to slide deeper into the chair.
Saki, on Honami’s other side, leans forwards to see what Honami is seeing. “What’s wrong with Shiho-chan?”
Honami sighs softly, reaching up an unoccupied hand to brush away strands of silver hair. Shiho’s head is fully resting against her shoulder, slumping their body weight entirely against her as they plunge into the dreamworld. Honami had been able to tell they were tired, but she hadn’t realized they were to this extent. “They’re asleep.”
“No way,” Saki breathes. She scrambles to her feet and shifts three seats over, now taking the side of their sleeping girlfriend with eyes shining so bright Honami can practically see the sparkles. She coos, “Shiho-chan never falls asleep like this. They look so cute.”
Honami giggles. “They do, don’t they? It’s rare to see Shiho-chan sleeping in public.”
Saki tilts her head, an impish smirk growing on her lips. “That just means we have to make the most of it!” She ducks her head to the side, digging around in her purse to pull out her phone. Honami knows what’s about to happen before she even unlocks it, and she’s proven correct a heartbeat later as Saki opens the camera app and positions it over Shiho’s face. Honami can hear the small shutter as she takes a picture.
“They’re going to make you delete that when they wake up,” Honami tells her, laughing.
“Noooo, it’s okay! Shiho-chan lets me keep the photos usually.”
That’s because no one can say no to your puppy dog eyes, Honami thinks, but doesn’t say it outloud. Instead, she just chuckles, leaning back against the seat. It takes a conscious effort on her part not to shrug. She has to remember she has a sleeping bassist on her shoulder.
“Hona-chan, say cheese!”
“Huh—?” Honami doesn’t get a chance to finish her sentence before Saki is holding her phone up and out in front of her, flashing a peace sign at the camera to take a selfie with the three of them. “Eep!” She hasn’t even smiled before the photo is taken and Saki is pulling her phone back to her chest, giggling down at the screen.
“Awh, Hona-chan, you look so cute!”
“H-Hey! I wasn’t ready!”
“Annddddddddd send.” Saki looks up, giving Honami a grin that borders on smug. “I sent it to Icchan.”
Honami feels herself turning red. “Why did you do that?”
“Because you two looked so cute together,” Saki repeats. “Also, I felt like Icchan deserves a warning for when Shiho-chan enters all tired and grumbly.”
That causes Honami to laugh. It’s true, Shiho is often the one who wakes up the most ‘out of it,’ and she’d already sensed they were fairly fed up with everything in the world even before they’d stated it. She’ll probably end up getting the full details of their workday tomorrow, when they’re well rested and alert. Until then, Honami will let them rest as the train takes them closer home.
—
“Hey, Shiho-chan…”
Someone is lightly shaking Shiho’s shoulder. They ignore it.
“Shiho-channn… get up…”
“Hmgh?” Shiho asks, cracking open an eye.
Slowly, they lift their head, blinking sleep out of their gaze as they try to comprehend where they are. They shift, realizing they’ve been leaning on someone, which makes their heart jolt because who were they just sleeping on, only to realize a second later that the shoulder they’ve been bothering belongs to the same girl who gives them such a warm smile now: Honami. The corner of her eyes crinkle as she gives Shiho one of those loving gazes that send their heart fluttering.
“You fell asleep,” she says gently. “We didn’t want to wake you, but we’re nearing our stop.”
Shiho groans out something illegible, pushing themself up and lifting their bag into their lap. They don’t say anything as the subway begins to roll to a stop, but Honami and Saki continue to chat idly to their side. They’re so tired, they don’t even care that they just fell asleep in public. When they reach their station, and the doors slide open, Honami grabs their hand and tugs them along, and Shiho follows without much complaint.
Saki waits until they’re out of the station and back on the sidewalk before she begins to talk. The sky above them has turned orange and pink with the setting sun, invisible paint brushes streaking purple and red clouds through the horizon. A cool breeze brushes past Shiho’s cheeks, ruffling the hair that frames their face and sending silver strands swaying in every direction. They don’t even bother to rearrange them.
“I can’t believe you fell asleep,” Saki starts to tease, clinging to Honami’s arm as a particularly brutal gust of wind sends the leaves on the ground stirring.
“I don’t want to hear it from you,” Shiho grumbles, shoving their hands in their pocket.
She grins at them. “It’s okay, Shiho-chan. I’ll take care of you when we get home.”
Shiho mumbles out more illegible words, not bothering to reply. They just want to crash on the couch.
When they finally get to their fourth-story apartment, Shiho enters first, immediately moving to the couch and flopping face first across it, shutting their eyes the second their face hits the cushion. The apartment is so warm in contrast to the bitter cold of an autumn night, and they let out a little sigh as they finally get the chance to stretch out and relax their aching muscles.
“What? No greeting kiss?”
Shiho forces their eyes open to glare at the new source of the voice: their stupid guitarist girlfriend with her stupid smug face and eyes that sparkle with an unbearably soft combination of playfulness and love. She’s way too easy to read as she leans forwards in front of the television, hair draping around her shoulders— so easy, that Shiho already knows that she knows they fell asleep (Of course Saki told her) and they know what’s going to come out of her mouth before she can speak. They preemptively groan.
“What do you want,” Shiho mumbles out, tone completely unserious. The both of them know they’re just playing along to the teasing they’re about to endure.
Ichika’s smile betrays her joke before it can even land. “Did you seriously fall asleep?” she asks, mimicking Shiho’s voice from months ago, when they’d given her shit for falling asleep on their date night.
Shiho rolls their eyes, but smiles slightly despite themself. “Why did Saki even tell you—”
“Do you even remember the movie?” Ichika continues, cutting them off. “Not that it was that good anyways, so you didn’t miss that much.” She wrinkles her nose in mock judgment, but her eyes are light and alive.
“Okay, at least I fell asleep because I had a long day at work and poor sleep. Not because I was being stupid and pulled an all-nighter before a movie—“
“I’ll remind you that our whole careers are because of our songs,” Ichika retorts, crossing her arms. “You know, our jobs. Our work. It’s music. So, technically, I was also working—”
“Yeah, yeah.” Shiho doesn’t let her finish, turning to plant their face against the couch again. “Whatever you say.”
Ichika chuckles lightly, bending forwards entirely to plant a kiss against Shiho’s head. “Well, I ordered ramen to pick up from one of your favorite shops. Try not to fall asleep before I can pick it up.”
Shiho feels their cheeks heating up, but they shift to give her the most genuine smile they’ve managed that night. “Thanks,” they say, and they mean it from the bottom of their soul, because even though they’re tired and they want to drown out the noise of the world, just being home and surrounded by the girls they love is enough to help clear some of the irritation that had once clogged their heart. That’s the best part of all this— even after bad days, even at their lowest, they’ll always have the other three waiting for them at home.
Ichika smiles softly at them. “Of course. Just rest here until dinner.”
“Okay,” Shiho mumbles sleepily. “Love you.”
It’s hard to miss Ichika’s delight as she replies. “I love you too.”
——
Ichika has two favorite parts of the day: the very moment she wakes up, and the very moments before she falls asleep.
She loves the mornings. She loves rising with the rest of Leo/need. She loves waking up surrounded by those she loves most, loves the feeling of her heart filling with warmth as she glances back towards the bed when she exits the room to see Shiho and Saki curled up next to one another, their bodies breathing slowly in their sleep. She loves exiting to the living room and finding Honami in the kitchen making coffee and tea, where she’ll plant a kiss against her forehead and wish her good morning and Ichika will smile sleepily as she meets her eyes.
She loves cuddling on the couch with Honami as they chatter about how the day should go, watching television together underneath the comfort of the throw blanket they’ve had since they first bought the apartment. She loves when their remaining girlfriends will stumble out of their room together, bleary eyed and grumbling, and the four of them will enjoy breakfast together before splitting into their tasks for the day.
It just makes her so happy, knowing she gets to spend another day by their sides. She loves the knowledge that no matter what happens today, she will have her friends, and everything will be alright.
And yet, at the end of the day, when the sun has set and the stars are out and drowsiness is heavy in the air, Ichika always rediscovers her other favorite feeling: the feeling of being surrounded by their love and their bodies, tangled yet comfortable in the bed they share. Every night is something new, from the way they’ve aligned themselves under the covers, to who falls asleep first, to how long Saki can talk about a variety of topics before Shiho throws a pillow at her and the room breaks out into squeals.
She doesn’t think there’s anything like being able to fall asleep surrounded by love. She feels their love so strongly, and it’s all she can do to share that save love in return.
The sound of soft breaths and snores surround her. She’s found herself in the middle tonight, staring up at the ceiling as the others sleep. Shiho faces her, eyes closed, quiet snores escaping their throat as Ichika listens fondly. Shiho’s the loudest sleeper of the four, something they all realized when they were all just eight years old, much to their embarrassment. Behind them, Honami has her face pressed into their shoulder, arms wrapped around the bassist to pull them closer to her chest.
Saki is on Ichika’s right, clinging to her in a similar manner. Occasionally, she’ll mutter something in her sleep, and unconsciously tug Ichika more to her side of the bed, or nuzzle in closer to her chest. Ichika has an arm around her in turn, running a hand through her hair and doing her best to keep the blanket centered over both of them. Somehow, she has the sneaking suspicion that she’ll wake up and Saki will have claimed it in its entirety.
But that’s the morning, and this is the night, and right now she’s cozy and warm and her heart feels delighted in its love. She’s almost too happy to sleep. She wishes she could sit and soak in Leo/need’s warmth forever. Yet eventually, as they always do, her eyes flicker shut. She turns to her side to rest her head near Saki’s, and she’s so close she can practically hear her heartbeat, and she lets the sounds of soft breathing lull her to sleep so that she can wake up tomorrow and experience her favorite cycle of life all over again.