Chapter Text
Mizuki walked up the dirt path, pup at her heels. She set a brisk pace and the white mutt had to trot in order to keep up with her. The country town was quiet at this time of day, as it usually was and so, Mizuki’s walk was only interrupted by the occasional SUV or pickup truck.
As the warm late summer air tickled her skin, she found she had no particular destination in mind. She just wanted to get away from the eyes, the stares, and the comments. If she were alone, she’d probably walk for a short eternity, but the dog at her heels was panting heavily and she supposed she was far enough.
She spotted a fig tree up ahead, its green leaves stretching out over the grass as if offering a warm embrace. She figured it would do and sat against its trunk. Her ever-loyal shadow climbed into her lap. His tail wagged as Mizuki’s hand ran through the white scruffy fur between his ears before coming to rest against the pink paisley printed fabric of his bandana. Her pink eyes stared into the horizon as she lost herself in thought and for a moment, the dog's pants and the sounds of grass rustling in the summer breeze were the only sounds around her.
That moment ended when the branches above her shook violently and figs rained down on Mizuki, startling them out of their thoughts. Her dog stood alert, barking up at the branches as if chastising them for ruining the serenity of the scene.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” a voice rang out from above her.
Mizuki looked up and met eyes with the most beautiful girl she had ever seen. Short, chestnut hair framed a pretty face accented by dark mocha eyes that looked down at them apologetically. She had, Mizuki noted, wonderful fashion sense as well, from the pale yellow sweater to the black bellbottoms.
“Um— It’s alright. Sorry for taking your spot.”
“I don’t mind. You were quiet and I was just picking figs,” she held out her hand. “Do you want some?”
Mizuki hesitantly accepts her offering, the dog beside her ceasing his yapping, apparently realizing the stranger poses no threat.
“Thanks.”
The stranger nods, before climbing down the tree to stand beside them.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you around here. I’m Ena. I live just that way.” She points to her left.
“I’m Mizuki,” they reply before pointing to the dog at their feet. “This is Aspen. We live—” they take a look around before pointing in the direction they came from, “a bit farther down in that direction.”
“Cool,” Ena says, “Well it’s nice to meet you.”
Mizuki nods. “Likewise.”
They both take a bite of their figs. Mizuki’s eyes fixate on the golden cross resting above her new companion’s heart.
Ena’s eyes are trained on the dog, who sticks to their side like a shadow. “What breed is he?”
They shrug, “Not sure. Dad says he’s a mutt but we don’t know what he’s mixed with.”
“He looks a bit like a terrier. Does your family hunt?”
“Ah, no. Aspen’s… a guard dog of sorts, but I just consider him a companion.”
Ena nods and says nothing more. They finish their figs in silence before she grabs a basket full of them.
“If you want,” Ena says hesitantly, “you could come home with me. Mom says she’s gonna try and put these figs in a pie.”
“Okay,” Mizuki says, still a little bit in awe that this girl was actually being nice to her.
They assumed it was because she hadn’t heard of them. The town freak who paraded around, pretending to be a girl. The confused and misguided young man who had nobody to correct him with his parents constantly working. Typically people steered clear of them, unless it was to try and ‘fix’ them somehow. They didn’t apologize for dropping figs on her head, much less invite them into their homes. The only reason Ena was different had to be because she didn’t know what she was yet. That kindness of hers would dissipate when she found out.
“Hello? Earth to Mizuki! You in there?”
They blink. “Oh, sorry.”
Ena sighs, “Come on, let’s go.”
She turns and walks in the direction she’d pointed in earlier.
Mizuki figured it couldn’t hurt to hold on to this fleeting connection while it lasted. If Ena didn’t know, she saw no harm in keeping it from her forever.
(That’s a lie. She did see the harm and she knew the guilt of keeping such an important part of herself from her forever would eat at her from the inside out, like maggots in a carcass.)
She turns and follows after Ena, Aspen at her heels.
“Absolutly not.”
As it turns out, Ena’s father, Mr. Shinonome, was not quite as fond of the idea of Mizuki entering his house. He also wasn’t a fan of Mizuki themself, seeing as he stood over them glaring at them in disgust.
“I will not have the likes of trailer trash sniffing around my daughter.”
Though, apparently that disgust was for a different reason than they’d assumed. Trailer trash. She turns the term over in her head, familiar with it, but surprised he found her financial situation more abhorrent than her gender identity. (And she knew he was aware of the latter, otherwise he wouldn’t have mentioned her ‘sniffing around’)
Ena makes a sound of indignation. “What does that have to do with anything?! And Mizuki isn’t sniffing around! She’s my friend!”
“What’s taking so long, Shinei? You’re letting all of the cold air out.”
Ena’s mother is comparatively shorter than her father, but still slightly taller than Mizuki herself. She seems gentler than her husband with hair the color of maple leaves framing kind green eyes.
“He won’t let her in for tea!” Ena yells.
“Ena, don’t raise your voice sweetheart. It’s not ladylike.”
Ena scowls at that.
Her father is quick to defend himself. “I refuse! I won’t let this kid go sniffing around my daughter.”
“I promise I don’t mean any trouble.” Mizuki speaks up, “We met by the fig tree and she invited me for dessert.”
Now under the scrutiny of both parents, Mizuki wishes the ground under the (nice cedar) porch she stood on would swallow her whole.
“I doubt she’s doing any sniffing around honey. Surely she knows better,” Ena’s mother says before turning to address them directly, “Sweetheart, you’re welcome to come in for tea.”
Shinei narrows his eyes before conceding, realizing he’s outnumbered. “Fine. For tea and nothing more ya hear? And the mutt stays outside.” Ena opens her mouth to protest but he cuts her off, “I won’t budge on that one, Ena. You know how your brother is with dogs.”
Ena sighs, “Okay, thanks dad.”
He nods and both parents disappear deeper into the house. Shinei shoots Mizuki an ‘I’m watching you’ gesture before he leaves.
“Sorry about that,” says Ena, “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re trailer trash.”
“It’s fine,” She sets Aspen in a down-stay, “It happens. It hardly bothers me.”
“It shouldn’t. It shouldn’t happen.”
Mizuki shrugs and follows Ena into her parlor.
The house is nice. It’s big and fancy and through the windows painted with golden trim, Mizuki can see the farm they tend to.
When they reach the olive green table set out for tea, the rest of Ena’s family is already waiting for them.
“Oh good,” says her mother, “I was worried Shinei had scared you off.”
A boy with ginger hair like his mother addresses Ena. “Wow, you haven’t brought a friend over since—”
Ena’s glare cuts him off. She turns to Mizuki. “Mizuki, this is Akito, my little brother and the reason poor little Aspen has to sit out in the heat all by his lonesome.”
She waves at him nervously, “It’s okay, really, he’ll be just fine.”
Ena’s mother gasps, “Right! I should get that poor little pup some water.”
“There’s a dog on our porch?!” Akito exclaims, glaring at his sister.
“It’s not her fault!” Mizuki cuts in, wanting to be rid of the hostile tension in the air. They shift from foot to foot. “He’s my dog. He doesn’t bite or cause trouble.”
Akito still doesn’t look happy, but his glare softens a bit. “Y’know, you’re a lot less annoying than you seem at school.”
“Akito,” his mother scolds from the kitchen where she’s filling a plastic bowl with tap water. “Don’t be rude.”
Mizuki’s tempted to tease him, but there are two adults in the room and one already doesn’t like her so she opts to just keep quiet and not cause trouble.
“What are you waiting for?” Ena asks, pulling out two adjacent chairs, “C’mon sit.”
They nod and take the seat she’s pulled out for them. Ena’s mother comes back and pours the tea.
“It’s peach,” she says, “And Mrs. Mochizuki baked us an apple pie earlier this morning.”
Akito snorts, “Surprised Honami didn’t eat it first.”
“Akito, comments like that are unbecoming of a gentleman such as yourself,” scolds their mother.
Ena snickers, though apparently it’s only loud enough for Mizuki to hear as there is no reaction from anyone else at the table. They decide not to rat her out and pretend they didn’t hear anything at all.
“I’d like to see it by the way,” Ena eventually says through bites of pie. “Your trailer, I mean.”
Mr. Shinonome drops his fork at her words. It clatters harshly against the china plate and Mizuki winces.
“If you really want to, I don't mind,” they say awkwardly, desperate to change the subject. “But it's really nothing special. Your farm is much more impressive.”
“I see that farm every day,” says Ena, “But I'll promise to show you around if you promise to show me your trailer.”
She can feel Mr. Shinonome's eyes boring a hole into her skull and the sensation paralyzes her for a moment. He sighs.
“If you're gonna look you'll have to help out, understand kiddo?”
She nods. “Okay, deal.”
Ena isn't quite as accepting of these conditions. “What?! But she's a guest! You can't just put her to work like that!”
Mr. Shinonome stands up, slamming his hands on the table with a force that makes the silverware (and Mizuki) jump. “Why must you always fight me every step of the way?! Isn’t it enough that I’m letting the kid come back at all?!”
“No!” Ena shouts back, “It’s always something with you! Why can’t you just let me be?! I’m sick of having to find workarounds for all your dumb rules!”
Mrs. Shinonome stands and Akito follows. He walks further into the house while his mother gently pulls a dumbfounded Mizuki to her feet and escorts her in the same direction. She leads her to what seems like a sitting room with sage green walls and a trim made up of the same dark cedar as the hardwood floor. She sits Mizuki down on a plush couch before sitting down across from her with a sigh.
“I’m sorry you had to see that hun.”
“Honestly,” huffs Akito, “I get that they have their differences and all, but do they really have to do this now? We have company over.”
“It’s okay,” says Mizuki, “I don’t really mind much. It was probably my fault anyway. So, I’m sorry for that.”
Akito scowls, “Geez, no wonder she likes you. Look, we can tell it bothered you. I mean, you froze up as soon as they started yelling. You don’t hafta pretend.”
“That’s nothing, I just don’t really like conflict is all.”
Mrs. Shinonome chimes in. “It isn’t your fault, dear. Ena takes after her father, and a lot of the time they clash because they’re too alike. Now I’ll go get some snacks and see if they plan on finishing their little spat anytime soon.”
Akito looks surprised at her words and she walks out without another word.
“Mom’s angry and we get to eat in the sitting room,” he says, “That means it’s really bad.”
“Does this—” Mizuki almost doesn’t want to know, “Does this happen often?”
“At least once a week.”
She sinks a little in her seat.
“Why? Are you reconsidering coming back? Ena will kill you if she doesn’t get to see that trailer.”
“No, I still want to come back. I just… don’t really understand.”
“Don’t question it. Ena’ll argue with anyone.”
She nods and says nothing more, wishing she hadn’t opened her mouth at all earlier. For a moment she wonders if all of the Shinonome’s nice home decor and tea times and insistence on good manners was just a ruse to hide the simmering anger that threatened to tear the house apart like a powerful stick of dynamite with a short fuse. If the house comes down around them it’ll be her fault. She’s the one who lit the fuse earlier.
“I said don’t think too much about it,” Akito repeats, “This is just how family is.”
“My family is never like this,” she mutters.
“That’s ‘cause they’re never around.” Akito sounds like he’s getting defensive. “Honestly, I think they’re a myth sometimes. And you don’t have any siblings, so you wouldn’t understand that either.”
Mizuki wants to correct him, but they can sense he’s one comment away from snapping at them and they’ve already ruined things enough, so they lower their gaze and keep quiet.
He softens slightly, but his gaze and tone still have a venomous barb to them. “Just… stay out of our business, okay. I mean it.”
They nod.
The door opens and Ena steps in, “Are you done yelling at her yet, or does mom have to come and tear into you too?”
“Oh, you’re finished.” Akito said, “That was fast. What happened?”
“Mom tore us a new one and then dad switched targets. I was going to bunker down here with you two,” she glances at Mizuki. “But now I get the feeling you’d rather go home.”
“Oh. It’s okay, really. We never finished tea, and your mom never did put the figs in a pie.”
“Trust me, there won’t be any more tea by the time they’re done in there.” Akito’s point is authenticated by the distant sound of something shattering. “See?”
Mizuki gapes in horror. That was such a nice tea set too!
“Don’t worry about it,” says Ena, “We’ll go downtown and buy a new one. Now, do you wanna go home or what?”
“Trust me, you’ll wanna go home,” says Akito, “Just take her home, Ena.”
She looks up at Ena. “Well, my parents’ll want me home by sunset. So I guess I could go now.”
“Alright. I’ll walk you to the fig tree, but you’ll have to make it home from there by yourself. Come on, let’s grab Aspen and go.”
She follows Ena and they leave the Shinonome home through a door they did not enter.
“Listen, I’m really sorry about that,” says Ena, “I mean, you had to listen to me and dad argue and then Akito tore into you and then mom and dad started arguing. Must’ve been a pretty lousy experience.”
She shrugs, “It’s fine, really.”
“It’s not! Why do you always—” she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Look, I know it upset you. Mom said you froze back there when we started, and then to have Akito yell at you too. Honestly, I’m almost tempted to go and give him a piece of my mind, but we’ve argued enough for one day. I mean it isn’t your fault you don’t get it. You aren’t— nevermind. The point is, he shouldn’t have yelled at you for being an only child and not getting it.”
“He was wrong.” Mizuki manages in a whisper. “I— I’m not an only child.”
“Really?”
She nods, “I have an older sister. She moved away for college a few years ago.”
Ena smiles softly. “Well I’m sorry for assuming. And I’m sorry he assumed too.”
Their voice was hardly a breath, “We never fought. Not like that.”
Ena hums. “Well… maybe your family’s just different. Maybe it’s because your parents work all the time.”
Mizuki doesn’t believe that at all, but they don’t press. “Maybe.”
“You don’t have to come back,” Ena says, “I’d understand if you wanted to stay away from us after that.”
Now it’s their turn to hum. “I’ll come back. We had a deal, and I really do wanna see the farm.”
“Even if my family argues like that again?”
Mizuki nods.
Ena lets out a breathy laugh. “Really? Even though you don’t get it? Even though Akito yelled at you for not getting it? Even though it makes you uncomfortable?”
“I promised you didn’t I? Besides, I liked the tea, even though there was yelling, and your mom was pretty nice.”
“You don’t have to keep coming back just because you promised and the tea’s good.”
“But I liked hanging out with you.”
Ena sighs. “You really are strange, y'know. The only people who’ve stayed before are people who understood.”
“I don’t have to understand it to hang out with you, do I?”
“Of course not, Mizuki. If you want to come back you’re welcome to. I think mom likes you anyway.”
Aspen pokes at her ankle and Mizuki looks up toward the setting sun. “Right, that’s my cue to go. I’ll see you around.”
Ena nods. “I’ll see you.”
Mizuki is walking through a grove, searching for the sprawling oak tree she knows is at its center. She’s seeking alone time today and this tree is one of the only places she’s guaranteed to get it. It’s been that way since Rui shot himself back in middle school.
Solitude is not what she gets as at the base of the tree sits Ena, scribbling furiously at a notebook while angrily muttering to herself.
“What does he mean, ‘I don't think you can handle another one'? I know better than him what I can handle. You aren't like her. You aren't Mafuyu. You're like a skittish cat and you don't speak your mind but you aren't her. You can't be like her because if you are then—”
She steps into the clearing, “Ena?”
The brunette startles and the book she was scribbling in snaps shut. “Mizuki?! What are you doing here?!”
They point up to the oaks branches. “I come here a lot. I was going to climb it and sit for a while.”
“Oh, well then I'm sorry. I guess I'm intruding on your spot now. I'll find someplace else.”
“I don't mind.” Ena's face sours at those words for some reason. “Really, I don’t. You can stay.”
They climb the oak, coming to rest on their usual branch. Ena watches from the ground.
“You mind if I join you? I don't wanna go home just yet and you look pretty comfy up there.”
Mizuki leans over and pats the branch Rui always sat on twice in invitation.
Ena stares up at them for a moment before sighing. “Could you help me up?”
They blinked owlishly at her, having never met anyone who couldn't climb a tree like this one (except Aspen, she supposed, but he didn't really count as he was a dog). “Right. Sure, hang on.”
It takes a minute but soon Ena is sitting on the branch Rui used to sit on. Mizuki stares for a moment trying not to think too hard about her old friend lest she start crying. She says the first non Rui related thing that comes to mind.
“If you can't climb trees then how'd you get up the fig tree the other day?”
“I had Akito help me. I can't climb, but I can get down a tree just fine.”
“That's because that's the easy part. It's nothing worth writing home about.”
Ena’s face scrunches up in indignation and Mizuki worries she's crossed a line. Then she starts laughing.
“Y'know Mizuki, I think I like you better when you're like this!”
“Really? You like it when I poke fun at you?”
“Sure I do! It means you're speaking your mind!”
“But I hardly mean half of what I'm saying! And what if I cross a line?”
“If you cross a line I'll let you know. This is better than when you were all quiet and scared during tea time.”
“I wasn't scared! All the arguing and smashing fine china just caught me off guard."
“Still, when you're all quiet and polite like that, you remind me of—”
“Of Mafuyu, right?” They glance up at her. “Is that a bad thing?”
Ena’s eyes narrow. “Say, how much of that did you hear?”
“Not much. It sounded like you were talking to someone, only nobody was there.”
She sighs. “Mafuyu was my friend.”
“Oh. I'm sorry.”
Mizuki remembered the day Mafuyu Asahina was found hanging from an apple tree last year. She remembered wanting to pay respects, though she didn't know her that well, and being turned away at the door. She remembered the look in Mrs. Asahina's eye as if she blamed the world itself for her daughter's suicide. She remembered thinking she understood how that felt.
“Don't. It's not your fault. If anyone's to blame it's that so-called mother of hers.”
“She seemed so grief-stricken when I last saw her. I think she loved Mafuyu very much.”
“She didn't” Ena's words were as cold as ice. “She didn't love Mafuyu at all. She just loved the sweet southern belle she pretended to be.”
“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t know.”
“It’s fine. It’s not your fault. It’s just… just thinking about it makes me mad. She didn’t even allow me to attend the funeral.”
She nods. “She didn’t let me pay respects either.”
“You went to pay respects?”
“Yeah. I only met her once or twice, but I figured I could offer her mom something since I get how that feels.”
Ena looks at her expectantly prompting her to continue so she does. “Y’know… this spot was Rui’s before it was mine. He used to live in a camper. He taught me how to climb and he used to sit in that same spot you’re sitting in now. We used to be inseparable back in middle school, but then he went and shot himself the summer after he graduated.”
“I remember hearing about that. There was a speech about it when high school started. I didn’t realize you two were friends.”
Mizuki nods again. “I’m still mad at him. For leaving me behind even though he promised he wouldn’t. He didn’t even leave a note. It’s like he doesn’t want me to grieve him.”
“I get that. Mafuyu left a lengthy note behind, but it was all one big apology. I was so angry then and whenever I see her farce of a mother or my parents mention it, it’s like that anger bubbles up until I have to let it out somehow.”
“Is that what you were doing earlier? With the notebook, I mean?”
Ena nods, “Whenever my family sees you, they see Mafuyu. It’s like they think you’re the same as her and it makes me angry. I think that’s why Akito was so frustrated when you didn’t understand, because Mafuyu understood, and you aren’t her.”
“Oh. I thought I’d overstepped.” She shifts a little on the branch.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. It pisses me off when you apologize like you did. It reminds me of her.”
“Right. I’m sorry.”
“I said stop apologizing!”
“Do you—” Mizuki hesitates, but Ena looks as though she’ll reach across and strangle them if they don’t say what’s on their mind. “Does it bother you? That I’m like Mafuyu. Does it make you angry?” Does it make you hate me?
“You aren’t like Mafuyu. There are some similarities, but they don’t really bother me. They worry me more than anything. I worry one day you’ll end up on the business end of a rope like she did. What makes me angry is when my family acts like you’re the same when you aren’t. Honestly, they act like she died yesterday instead of a year ago and sometimes I wish they’d just move on.”
They can’t hide the sigh of relief they let out. “Okay.”
“My turn. Do I remind you of Rui?”
They think about this for a moment. “No. You’re nothing like he was.”
“Do you ever wish people would forget about him? Like I do with Mafuyu?”
“Not really. If anything I wish people would remember him. And I wish they’d do it properly. Remember him for who he was and not who they thought he was.”
“I get that. Whenever people talk about Mafuyu, they’re always talking about this perfect, sweet southern belle and that just isn’t her.”
They sit in silence for a moment before Ena speaks again.
“Hey Mizuki, we’re friends aren’t we?”
“Sure. As long as you want to be.”
“Then I want you to make me another promise. Promise me you won’t leave me behind like that and I’ll promise you the same.”
She extends her pinky out to them. They intertwine it with their own.
“You swear you’ll keep it?” They ask, their voice coming out smaller than they intended.
“As long as you keep yours. I’d seal this in blood, but I don’t have anything sharp, so this’ll have to do.”
“I might have something if that’s what you wanted to do.”
They dig into their pockets, finding nothing. “Nevermind, we can always do that later.”
Ena nods.
Realizing the weight of what they’ve just sworn, Mizuki laughs. “This is our second meeting and we’re already making a suicide pact.”
“It isn’t a suicide pact! We’re promising not to do that!”
Mizuki laughs again and then they’re both silent once more. The light breeze rustles the leaves and lighter branches above them. Once again, Ena breaks the silence.
“It’s a sketchbook, by the way.”
“Huh?”
“You called it a notebook earlier. That’s wrong. It’s a sketchbook.”
Mizuki tilts their head, “You draw?”
“Yeah. Dad doesn’t want me to, so don’t go telling him when I show you our farm.”
“My lips are sealed,” they say, “Can I see your art?”
“It’s not very good."
“It’s probably better than anything I could do.”
"We’d have to climb down since I left it down there.”
"That’s fine."
Ena sighs. “You’re persistent.”
She climbs down to retrieve her sketchbook and Mizuki follows behind her. They both settle down against the tree’s sturdy trunk as Ena flips through the first few pages of her sketchbook. Mizuki admires in quiet awe but doesn’t miss the way Ena will skip over certain pages she seems to deem too poor quality or too embarrassing. She doesn’t comment on it.
“You draw a lot of birds,” she observes instead.
“Yeah. Since dad doesn’t want me to draw, I only do it outside. There are a lot of birds around, so I draw them a lot. It’s pretty peaceful when the only sounds are the birds chirping and my pencil moving across the page. I’d bet I could mimic any bird call by now.”
Mizuki would like to test this theory. “Really, so you can do a sparrow.”
She does. Perfectly.
“A mourning dove?”
Another perfect mimicry.
“A cardinal?”
She can do that one too. They go on like this for a while, with Mizuki listing off species and Ena mimicking their calls.
“A blue jay?”
“A goldfinch?”
“A chickadee?”
“A bunting?”
Ena scoffs after that last one. “Are you done yet or are you planning on going through every species of bird in the area?”
She laughs, “Okay last one. Do a bluebird.”
She does and Mizuki finds she likes the sound of that one. She likes it so much that she asks Ena to do it again and again until she refuses. They both go home smiling by sunset.