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Ena said that she would always be by their side. She told them that and she meant it. She doesn’t like to lie. She’ll hide her feelings, behind anger or frustrated retorts, but she doesn’t lie. She refuses to give platitudes, willing to share everything if asked by someone she trusts. She planned on keeping her promise to them. It’s not like she had a choice in the matter anyways. She was stuck being deeply attached to them, stuck with her undeniable and frankly annoyingly large crush on them.
At 20, she finally gathered enough money from her part-time job to finally be able to move out of her parents’ place, and who better to ask than her best friend and unrequited crush to be her roommate? She promised to stay with them forever, after all.
“Hey, Mizuki,” Ena brings up during one of their outings, “would you want to be my roommate?”
“Oh! Has Enanan realized that she can’t get enough of me? She wants to see me everyday?”
Mizuki cannot know that the statement is at least somewhat true. She feels her face burn as she racks her brain for a suitable retort.
Hm. Nothing too striking. Guess she’ll have to settle for old reliable.
“Shut up!” her voice decided to go up an octave when she replied, making her seem less threatening and more bashful, “I was just asking. Since, you know, we’re best friends.”
Mizuki can’t seem to control the grin that sneaks onto their face, “I think that would be fun! Do you have any plans?”
“I’ve been looking at apartments near my university, but they’re all way above my budget. Maybe something a bit more in the suburbs? So we can, like, afford it.”
“Being able to pay rent would be nice wouldn’t it… guess you can’t get your fancy loft in Ueno!”
“Yeah. And my parents wouldn’t help pay for it either. Something about already owning a home in Tokyo. So I’ve gotta get something I can handle. Having a roommate would make it easier.”
“Then I’ll surely help! Anything to better my best friend’s mental health!” they winked at the use of the phrase ‘best friend’. Ena thought she was going to die on the spot. They didn’t even know that she liked them, why were they doing this to her?
“Have I really never told you that you’re my best friend?”
“No! I can’t believe you’ve been keeping these feelings from me for so long!” they dramatically put the back of their hand against their forehead, feigning a swoon. They’re so fucking annoying. Ena might not even survive this conversation, forget living with them.
“I take it back. I take it all back. You’re my worst enemy. My nemesis. My dearly detested.”
“You love me,” they push their weight against Ena, slightest resting their head on the top of Ena’s shoulder. Why did they have to be taller than her? Such a nuisance.
“I despise you.”
“But you wanna live with me?”
“Something about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer,” she swings to the side to gain momentum, and then back towards Mizuki to push them off.
“So rude!” they hold their hand to their chest, “short people are so angry! Is it because you’re so low to the ground?” they knew they struck a nerve with that one.
“I’ll wring you, Akiyama.”
“You sounded just like Otouto-kun when you said that!” they giggled into their hand. Maybe instead of Ena, Mizuki won’t survive this conversation.
“Don’t test me. I’ll actually do it. They won’t find your body.”
“You won’t be able to carry my body, gravity’s against you on that one.”
“You’re only like 5 centimeters taller than me!”
“I’ll take every advantage I can get,” they smirk at her and rather than feeling anger or irritation she feels something resembling love bloom in her chest. Ugh. Annoying feelings getting in the way of verbal combat.
“Fine. It doesn’t matter. I hate you, end of story, do you want to be my roommate?”
“I thought I already said yes! Keep me updated if you find a place to stay, I’ll let you know if I can afford it.”
“Don’t you have two part-time jobs?”
“Yes… but Ena… gacha is expensive,” they lean forward in defeat. She forgot the reason they picked up a second job in the first place was to afford their hobbies more readily. Besides that and their work tailoring and designing, Mizuki’s making a pretty good life for themselves. Especially with Ena’s help managing their online presence to market their work better, they have an incredibly steady income. She’s not sure how they manage to juggle two jobs as well as their fashion work, but they seem to make it work. Unlike her, she’s struggling keeping her grades up and working at the same time. Hopefully she’ll find somewhere cheap enough to be able to drop the cafe job and dedicate herself fully to her art.
For now, however, the priority is moving out and going somewhere that doesn’t crush her mental well-being everyday.
Eventually, she’s able to find somewhere within her budget and close enough to school that the commute isn’t two hours long. After a short but unpleasant conversation with her parents (“I’m moving out.” “Why?” “Because I want to.” “If that’s what you want, then do it. Don’t come crying back though.”), she moves to her new home with Mizuki by her side. Akito helps Ena move her room to the other side of Tokyo, and Ena in turn helps Mizuki move all of their stuff.
They furnish the apartment with the necessities, two bedrooms, one bathroom. It’s small but it fits them both comfortably. Ena ends up using the studios at her university whenever she wants to paint, so finding space for all her supplies wasn’t a priority. Mizuki managed to fit all their equipment into their room as well, which is a feat that impressed Ena. They can be a miracle worker when they want to be.
They had been living there for about a month and with every passing day the apartment turns more into their own, trinkets that have started to litter the place and paint staining the floors and fabric in places where they least expect it.
When Ena put the key into the lock of her front door one humid Thursday evening, all she hoped was that she didn’t snap at Mizuki. She felt the tears pricking her eyes, threatening over and over again to spill over. She wasn’t trying to ruin her makeup, at least, even more than it was already ruined. She had texted Mizuki that she wouldn’t be able to pick up any food on the way home, like she had originally planned, instead feeling so bad that she just wanted to curl up in her bed and never speak to anyone again.
She opened the door and in front of her was Mizuki, in front of the stove, making something she wasn’t able to identify. It was all so domestic, almost overwhelmingly so.
“Welcome home!” their attention was taken off the pan and directed towards the surely horrid looking Ena, for their smile faltered and was quickly replaced with a worried expression.
“Is everything alright?” They quickly filled the silence.
“Mm.”
Ena doesn’t lie. She hates lying. But she isn’t really in the mood to talk about her day at school at the moment either. So she makes a noncommittal noise, something to get Mizuki off her back, and trudges toward her bedroom. Sweet, comfy bed, here she comes.
Mizuki, luckily, doesn’t stop her. She supposes that’s how they are. Mizuki knows to give others space if they think it’s the right thing to do. They’re usually right on those matters as well, it comes with the territory of being incredibly perceptive. They know exactly how to treat everyone well, cater to their individual needs and personality quirks, adapting their approach to make anyone feel comfortable with them. They just know how to read others better than most people do, and they use this knowledge to help their friends.
Nothing like Ena. She only knows blunt and headstrong. If the roles were reversed, Ena would have chased them until they told her what was wrong, so she could go fix the problem to the best of her ability. She was not above verbally berating those who hurt the ones she loves, after all.
(Did she just say she loved Mizuki? No way, right? It’s just a stupid crush. One she’s getting over.
Working on getting over.
Failing miserably at getting over.)
She pushes whatever tangent she decided to indulge in aside, and focuses on getting to her bed.
Her bedroom is almost exactly as it was at her parents’ home, with the exception that this room is noticeably smaller, but cleaner. Being away from her father is already having noticeable improvements in her life.
She can’t seem to escape from him completely, however, as she crashed onto her bed headfirst. She grabs whatever blankets are in arms reach and wraps herself into a cocoon of fabric, hoping that the warmth will evaporate all the frustration she feels. She closes her eyes and tries her best to block out every thought that comes to her head, but they all keep reaching her. She tries to distract herself, thinking about something else. She even hugs her pillow and pretends that it’s Mizuki to hope that would be embarrassing enough to make her brain shut up. It helps, maybe more than she’s willing to admit, the thought of having someone near her, comforting her. Somewhere within her negative thought spiral, she feels the heavy weight of drowsiness take over, and she falls asleep.
She’s taken out of the sleep by a light knocking on the door. Or maybe she’d been awake the whole time, fazing in and out of consciousness. She couldn’t really tell, her mind was too foggy.
Regardless of the state of her ability to think, the knocking on the door continues to occur. It must be real, and not some weird dream hallucination.
“Who is it,” she mumbles, more out of habit than actually wondering, because the moment the words leave her mouth she remembers she only lives with one other person.
“It’s me,” Mizuki calls from the other side of the door, “can I come in?”
“Yeah,” Ena replies, rolling over in her nest of blankets and sheets to face the doorway that Mizuki’s in.
“Can I sit on the bed?” they ask as they slowly walk towards Ena. She doesn’t have the energy to reply, and just nods her head. Mizuki takes a seat next to her and softly brushes their hand over her head. She leans into it, without realizing it at first, which prompts Mizuki to thread their fingers through her hair. It’s nice. They’re nice.
They sit like that for a while, Ena’s not really sure. Mizuki hums an unfamiliar song, their voice uncharacteristically soft and soothing, rather than the strong, rich vocals Ena’s used to hearing from them.
“What time is it?” she eventually manages to get out, hoarse and laden with exhaustion.
“Around 9. Do you want some food? I made you some.”
Ena’s hungry, but she cannot be bothered to get up right now.
“Later,” she closes her eyes and moves a bit closer to Mizuki, the top of her head pressing against their thigh. Mizuki stops petting her, and she’s about to complain, until she feels her body move and oh. Mizuki put her head on their lap and then restarted their brushing. It’s very nice.
“How was your day?” they ask. Always like them, to beat around the bush, to get answers without asking directly. They don’t want to push her too hard, don't want to frustrate her by making her speak, she gets it, but sometimes she wishes they could just be more direct.
“It was fine. Until my last class.”
Mizuki hums, not asking but allowing Ena to speak if she wants.
“My professor, this is the first time we’ve done a critique with this class so he doesn’t really know me. I submitted a piece, something I was pretty proud of,” she feels her anger rekindling as she recounts the day, and Mizuki can tell, as they pull her a little closer towards them.
“He was listing some reasons why the imagery wasn’t strong. That part was fine, I’m better at taking criticism, but then,” Ena grits her teeth, “he has the audacity to bring up my father, and list a number of his pieces, and why his imagery works better and how I could learn something from it. He knows I’m his kid! He knew my last name, and yet…!” She feels the tears threatening to boil over again, the frustration reaching its height. She can’t take it anymore. She needs something. She jolts up, taking Mizuki by surprise, and clampers on top of them and takes them into her arms, placing her head against their chest. She needs something solid. Something to hold onto. Mizuki is quick to reciprocate, wrapping their own arms around her, proceeding to draw little circles against her back.
“I’m so sick of him. Of people comparing me to him. Of thinking about him and comparing myself to him. Why does he haunt me? Why doesn’t he just get sick of following me everywhere?” she cries into their shirt. Fuck. She’s gonna get makeup all over their outfit. She rips her face away, panic rising in her chest, not wanting Mizuki to get mad at her, not wanting Mizuki to hate her as much as she hates herself at this moment. They move one of their arms and push her head back against them.
“No, I’m gonna mess up your nice shirt,” she chokes out. Mizuki hums in response, arm in place so that Ena doesn’t move her head again.
“I can wash clothes. You need this right now,” they eventually say, barely audible over the sound of Ena’s own racing heart. She breaks her streak of stubbornness and gives up easily, allowing herself to be comforted by Mizuki. It’s extremely comfortable. They’re warm, soft, and sweet.
Ena feels the exhaustion wash over her again, pulling her back to drowsiness.
“Can we lay down? Like this?” she asks, hoping that her voice was low enough that Mizuki didn’t hear it because that was such an incredibly embarrassing request.
“Of course,” they reply and lay down inside Ena’s blanket pile. She follows suit, accidentally bumping the top of her head against their chin in the process, and allows herself to be taken in their arms.
This. This is fantastic, Ena realizes. She’s not in her right mind, emotions all over the place after having a breakdown, but she’s safe now. She’s at home, on her bed, and thankfully not alone. Who knows how much more she would spiral if left to her own devices. Mizuki truly knew what was best for people. She needed that time by herself so she wouldn’t snap at them, but couldn’t be left alone for that long. She’s incredibly grateful that Mizuki is letting her stay in their arms too, that’s also a plus.
Why hasn’t she done this earlier?
Oh. Yeah. How does she platonically ask her roommate to cuddle with her? That could be a possible barrier between her and, frankly, what feels like heaven on Earth. Gay ascension to gay Nirvana.
She’s such a useless lesbian, she thinks before sleep takes over her once again.
The next day, she woke up in a tangle of limbs. She works her brain at remembering what the hell happened, because next to her is a sleeping Mizuki, their arms around her and vice versa. Oh. Yeah. She broke down last night. Mizuki came to comfort her and she fell asleep with them still in her bed.
Ena was starving, probably not the smartest move not eating last night, but cuddling with Mizuki was too good of an opportunity to pass up. They were still asleep, not being woken up by an empty stomach like Ena was. She debated struggling her way out of their arms to get food, but she wasn’t sure when they would end up like this again. She pressed herself as close as she could against them, thriving in how soft they feel. Could this be the rewards of admitting her feelings to them? That could be a huge win for the Shinonome Nation. No wonder Akito’s been dating that boy for years now.
Fuck. Ena’s been spoiled. She’s flown too close to the sun and now living with Mizuki will be akin to torture, always reminding her of what she craves. Wait. That’s more like taking a bite out of the apple in the Garden of Eden. Or maybe like opening Pandora’s Box of gay feelings. It’s too early in the morning to be making allusions to Greek mythology or the Bible or anything else.
Mizuki’s warm. And soft. That’s what she does know, and will be content with carrying this information. Surely she won’t let this affect her everyday life, right?
Turns out, as she so eloquently realized that humid Friday morning, that she had opened Pandora’s Box of Yearning or taken a bite of the fruit of fruity knowledge. Not thinking about holding Mizuki in her arms again was a task much easier said than done. She has no classes on Friday, and usually likes to spend the day working at home or working at her job, but she wasn’t scheduled for a shift until that night. She toiled over the stovetop, making breakfast for two, in the hopes that Mizuki would wake up soon. For once, Ena got the victory in waking up earlier than her roommate, and it feels incredibly awful. She’s so tired. She wants to go back to her bed, back to the person who’s laying on her bed, and sleep for the next four hours. But no, her body requires food or whatever.
She’s been up for maybe an hour and a half, the food on her plate long gone and the second plate set out in front of her on the dining table when they walk in. She’s scrolling her Instagram feed, ignoring the nagging voice in her head telling her to go do something productive, when she’d much rather relax for the time being. Mizuki stumbles out of her room, a little disoriented from just waking up, clothes a mess (somewhat because of Ena) and hair all over the place.
“Mornin’ Enanan,” they wave with a sleepy smile. Ena feels her heartstrings tug as she lets the inevitable smile appear on her face.
“Hey. I made you food.”
“Aww! So sweet!” they say before they walk towards the bathroom. Ena’s sure there’s a god out there, because Mizuki ignored a very obvious and very embarrassing joke they could have made, considering the situation they're in. It’s way too domestic. Mizuki surely thought it, witty as they are, so Ena’s left wondering why they didn’t make it. Probably because Ena would throw their breakfast out the window.
(She hopes, however, that they ignored it because they harbor the same romantic feelings that she does. She tries to not let herself get high expectations, but she can’t help it. When did she turn into such a romantic?
Her own words ring in her ears: “I’ll stand by your side forever.”
Maybe she’s always been this much of a romantic.)
They reappear, slightly more composed, still in yesterday’s clothes. Which are just. Wow. Ena got makeup all over their shirt.
“I can run the wash right now,” she offers, a pitiful attempt at fixing the problem.
“It’s okay. Lemme eat and then we can do laundry,” they smile at her, were they always this pretty? Yes. They were. She knows this. Also the way they changed it from ‘Make Ena do the laundry’ to ‘Let’s do it together’ was just adorable.
She needs to stop gushing. She’s so down bad. Down disastrous, even.
“Wow, you didn’t burn it!” they say, snapping Ena out of her gay feelings.
“I’m not that bad in the kitchen!” she retorts. They’re so rude and for what.
“Maybe you should make me breakfast more often. Ah, breakfast in bed served by the super famous super cute Enanan, what a treat!”
“You won’t be alive to eat tomorrow’s breakfast if you keep this up.”
“You keep threatening my life, I’m starting to think you actually dislike me or something,” they pout.
Ena’s inner monologue is screaming at her to deny that statement, because in fact she is hopelessly in love with Mizuki, but she has to keep appearances.
“I told you that you’re my nemesis. I meant it.”
“Sure, sure,” they reply with their face stuffed with food. So obnoxious, really.
They sit in comfortable silence, Ena still scrolling her phone while Mizuki eats their food. Neither of them acknowledging what happened nor the incredibly domestic position either of them were in at the moment. It was for the best, Ena would probably combust if Mizuki pointed it out.
It’s all so much for her. She needs a breather. She puts her phone down, immediately getting Mizuki’s attention.
“I’m gonna go to the studio today,” she decides in that moment. Might as well get some work done before, well, work. She’ll drown a coffee or something to make sure she doesn’t pass out.
“Are you sure?” Mizuki asks. They’re in the right to do so, especially with how Ena was feeling last night, and the fact that she most likely slept terribly. Returning to campus may not be the smartest move, but Ena needs the space to get her thoughts in order. And to repress this stupid crush, which she’s losing hope about getting over every day.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just wanna get some painting done,” Ena says, trying her best to look the part as well.
“I’ll see you tonight then?” they ask and she nods her head. She’ll be home late, but it’s not like they ever went to sleep early anyways.
“See you.”
Her time at the studio is simultaneously productive and unproductive. On one hand, she was able to create a whole painting in a day. On the other hand, it’s a portrait of Mizuki, the person she just can’t seem to get out of her head.
Hopefully they’d appreciate it as a gift or something. Maybe she can give it when she confesses her feelings, because she realized that it’s turned from an if to a when . She doesn’t want to let these feelings stay buried, for better or for worse. She’s not sure she could even keep these feelings buried if she tried.
She comes that night exhausted, accidentally spending too much time at the studio and having to rush to her job to get to her shift on time. It was a fairly busy day, as Fridays tend to be, so she was excited to be back in the comfort of her home.
“I’m home,” she calls out as she opens the door and enters the apartment. It’s dark in the living room, with a faint smell of food. Mizuki probably ate already.
“Welcome back!” Mizuki shouts from their room, the door open. She considers rummaging around the refrigerator for the leftovers of what Mizuki made for her last night, but decides on going to see them first. She missed them. God. She was so whipped.
She peaks her head through the doorframe and sees Mizuki working away at their sewing machine, probably putting together a commission piece. They notice her arrival, however, and take their foot off the pedal, bringing the needle to a halt.
“How was work? And school?”
“Good. Can I come in?”
“Of course, the doors always open to you.”
“I’m just making sure,” Ena mumbles as she enters the room, taking refuge on Mizuki’s bed. Their pink bed sheets were so soft. She should probably ask where they bought them.
“Did you get a lot of painting done?” they ask, focusing back on the machine that’s raring back to life.
“Yeah,” she prefers not to tell them what she had been painting.
“Show me when you’re done?” they request.
Ena isn't trying to break her streak of honesty, but she really does not want to show Mizuki when it’s done, considering that all it needs are the finishing touches.
“Maybe later,” she lays on their bed.
“Aww, cmon… I wanna see your art!” they’re pushy when they want to be, that’s for sure.
“Fine! I’ll show you! Just… let me finish it first.”
“Yay!” they spin in their obnoxious pink gamer chair, arms raised and precariously close to having their chair fall to the ground. They go back to the work at the table, the noise of the sewing machine filling the room. It’s a noise Ena used to despise, it’s loud repetitive thumping, but in time she turned to appreciate it. Hearing it meant that Mizuki was home, that she wasn’t alone, that someone she loved was nearby. So sappy. Ugh.
“Did you eat yet, Ena?” they ask over the droning sound.
“Not yet,” she admits, voice muffled due to her face being in Mizuki’s pillow. The sound of sewing stops as Ena feels a hand brush over her shoulder. She moves her face enough off the pillow to see Mizuki, smiling ever so softly at her. They’re going to be the end of her, she just knows it.
“Let's go eat something,” they held her hand. Her heart’s going to rip itself out of her chest at this point.
“Uh- yeah. Lets,” as much as she didn’t want to get off their bed, she stands up. Mostly because they’re with her and want to go to the kitchen with her.
They go to the kitchen, where Mizuki heats up leftovers for her (“is this okay? I can make you something, or we can—“ “it’s fine, Mizuki. Let's just eat.”) They take a much smaller portion, probably because they had eaten earlier. Ena goes through it pretty quickly though, she must have been hungrier than she realized, and they finish around the same time. They talk about Mizuki’s day, their shift at work and any interesting interactions with clients.
Mizuki excuses themself from the table after a while, citing that the garment they're working on needs to be shipped by tomorrow.
“I’ve gotta get back to work,” they mention as they glance at their phone.
“Can I watch?” Ena asks. She doesn’t really care about watching, mostly because she doesn’t understand how the process works, but she wants to spend more time with Mizuki.
“Of course! Just don’t pass out on me! You look exhausted,” they beam. Ena can’t help but smile back at them.
Ena feels herself falling asleep, just like Mizuki told her not to do, but she’s just so comfortable. She needs to figure out why Mizuki’s bed is nicer than her’s, because if she could normally fall asleep this easily, maybe her sleep schedule wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe if she just… closes her eyes… just for a little bit…
“Enanan,” she hears, the room much quieter than she remembers it being, “I would say I can’t believe you fell asleep but honestly? I should have seen this coming,” Mizuki whispers. Oh. She fell asleep, didn’t she? She should have seen that coming as well. Her body is still in sleep-mode though, and she can barely move her limbs. She can’t even bring herself to respond.
“I guess I’ll sleep on the couch,” they say, not necessarily to Ena. They’re just thinking out loud, assuming Ena can’t hear them, but she can. She feels them pulling away from her and she uses every drop of strength in her body to reach out to their wrist.
“Mrgh. Stay,” she croaks, voice harsh from just waking up.
“Ah!” Whoops, that startled them, “I thought you were asleep. I feel like a character in one of those zombie games…”
“Shut up. Come here.”
“No way! I mean, I don’t want to disturb you. Like, you can sleep in my bed, it’s fine. I can just go to the sofa,” they gently pull away, but an exhausted Ena has a stronger will than most people.
“Please,” she sounds a little pathetic, but she doesn’t really have the mental energy to care about that sort of thing, “please stay here.”
“Oh. Yeah, yeah, I can do that,” they mumble, “lemme get ready first though. Can you let go, just for a minute?”
Ena weighs the request in her mind, she really wants to cuddle with Mizuki now, but also maybe it would be better to let them actually change into pajamas and all that. She reluctantly lets go of their wrist.
“I’ll be right back!” They promise and rush to gather their things.
She fights the urge to fall back asleep, making what was probably around ten minutes feel like hours. Mizuki returns as quickly as they can, their hair askew as they rush to get back to Ena. They look adorable, she wants to kiss them right then and there.
Shut up gay thoughts. Now is not the time.
Well. Maybe now is the time, as Mizuki climbs into their bed and slots themself next to Ena. Her arms move without thinking, immediately wrapping them around Mizuki, getting as close as she can to them. She’s addicted to the feeling of being near them, of having them close and being able to hold them.
Down. Horrendous.
She doesn’t really have the energy or will to care to judge herself on how down bad she’s acting, and if Mizuki isn’t going to bring it up, then she won’t either.
“Is everything okay?” they ask. Ena supposes the last time she held them like this, which was last night, she was having a mental breakdown.
“Yeah,” the sleep is so evident in her voice, “I’m fine.”
“You just can’t get enough of me then?”
Ena doesn’t need to open her eyes to know that Mizuki was breaking the world record for largest shit-eating grin. Once they confirmed that she was okay, it was open season for teasing. It was endearing, as much as she pretended to be annoyed by it. There was an enjoyment to be had from their back and forths, holding no actual malice or anger.
“You think the world revolves around you, don’t you?” Ena mumbles into the crook of their neck.
“No, but you do though.”
“Shut up.”
“I don’t think I will. I know you love talking to me! You can’t deny it!”
“I guess,” she admits, “somehow you manage.”
“It’s because I’m really funny. We all know this.”
“Mhm,” she’s too tired for this. And comfortable. Mostly comfortable. Mizuki’s really soft.
“I’m also super smart. All my opinions are good!”
“Yeah,” she intertwines her fingers with Mizuki’s. Their hands are also really soft. Maybe she should ask what moisturizer they use.
“Like, for example, remember that show we watched together last week?” Mizuki squeezes her hand, “my interpretation of all the characters is right and everyone else sucks. They’re really are out here saying that Claudine is a tsundere but—“
“Oh my god you’re insufferable,” Ena interrupts. Mizuki squeezes her hand again, probably in tandem with a pout.
“What! I’m right! She’s not a tsundere!”
“She kind of is.”
“Ena! Not you too! She’s just incredibly troubled due to being a child prodigy, plus she’s not even mean to any other characters except—“
“So she’s mean? So she’s mean and then she warms up to another character and becomes nice? She’s a tsundere.”
“Nooooo,” they hug Ena in retaliation, pulling her closer which is a pretty sweet deal for Ena, “she literally isn’t. I know you’re better than this Ena. You’re just trying to be rude to me, aren’t you?”
They’re right, she really doesn’t have that much stake in this character, and she’s only being a contrarian just to mess with them.
“Fine. She’s not. You’re right.”
“Yay! I knew you loved me!” Mizuki shakes Ena around a little. It’s actually kind of cute.
Wait. Love?
They’re right, she does love them, but they weren’t supposed to know that yet.
But maybe. Maybe they could know that. Time to deploy a conversational pivot, in the hopes of intelligence gathering.
“This is pretty nice, hm?” Ena asks them and pushes her face a bit closer to them to cement that she was talking about cuddling with them.
“Ah,” there’s a moment of hesitation, most likely they’re debating whether or not to play off their true feelings, a tried and true ‘Mizuki Moment’.
“This is really nice,” they finally end up saying, voice dipping to a softer tone than they normally use. They’re sincere. Ena feels her heart soar.
“We could uh,” oh my god get a grip, girl, “do this more often? Maybe?”
“Like what? Hugging?”
“Yeah, and maybe,” Ena falters. Now is not the time to be embarrassed. Mizuki cranes their head to try and get a look at her face. Fuck. They’re too pretty.
“Can I kiss you?” She ends up blurting out.
“Ah,” they were taken by surprise. Fuck. Backpadel. Abort mission.
“It’s okay if you don’t—“
“For real?” They ask.
“Huh?”
“Like… are you being sincere right now? Like you’re not messing with me?”
“Oh my f—“ Ena lets out the heaviest sigh of her life, “Mizuki. I am being ‘for real’ right now. Why would I joke about something like that?”
“Oh. I don’t know. Too good to be true, maybe? I’ve had people ask me out as a joke before…”
Ena grabs their face in her hands, forcing them to look at her.
“Do I look like I would do that to you?”
“No,” they blush, “but I don’t know! I get scared!”
She should have a little more faith in them, she thinks. They've been hurt by others, people who they trusted, often enough to fear the worst. They’ve been opening up more, to her and their other friends, but after what they’ve gone through, she really can’t blame them.
Ena caresses their face. She’s so gay.
“I know. I’m sorry,” her thumb runs across their cheek.
“Do you still want to, like,” they hold their breath.
“Kiss you? Of course. If you don’t want to, that’s fine. We can, uh,” Ena becomes incredibly aware of their position right now. Maybe this was a little too much.
“No! I mean!” They’re as much of a mess as she is, “I want to!”
“Then, may I?” Ena asks. Mizuki quickly nods their head, giving Ena the okay. She draws them close and leans in, holding the kiss for about five seconds before pulling away. Mizuki’s face is completely red. Ena’s is probably as well. They’re stunned for a moment and then a goofy grin forms. Uh oh.
“Three out of ten. I didn’t get the fireworks that all the fanfiction told me would h—“
Ena interrupts their incredibly stupid commentary with another kiss. She deepens it this time and Mizuki repricorates. They both move away at the same time.
“You know, I was joking that first time, but this time I think I actually did feel the fireworks.”
“Can you be normal for like, two minutes?”
“No can do! You signed up for this,” they push their face right above her heart.
“You’re insufferable.”
“You love it!”
“I won’t deny that,” she sighs.
“So, can we do this more often?” Mizuki throws her question back at her.
“That would be nice,” Ena replies, “but we’re gonna use your bed. It’s nicer.”
“We have the same exact mattress.”
“And? Your bed is nicer. My statement stands.”
“I think you like it because I’m on it,” they’re actually so annoying.
“I like you and I like your bed. Can’t those two things be true?”
“Well, considering we have the same mattress, I think I’m the difference. And maybe my sheets are cuter.”
“My sheets are so cute! They’re so pretty!”
“But mine are cuter,” they stifle a yawn, “but you’re pretty cute. I guess that evens it out?”
“I guess I am,” Ena shifts herself to be a little more comfortable within their arms.
“You’re supposed to deny it or something.”
“Hey, I know I’m cute. Why would I deny it?”
“Fair enough! You’re very cute and you should know it.”
There’s a lull in the conversation and Ena feels herself almost succumb to her exhaustion, but there’s one thing she hadn’t asked yet.
“Hey, Mizuki,” she says, checking to see if they ended up asleep instead.
“Yeah?”
“Can I be your girlfriend?”
“Aww, you really do love me,” they coo and Ena pinches their side.
“Shut up. I do. Will you be my girlfriend?”
“Of course I will,” they kiss her cheek. Her stomach does a flip. They’re surely going to be the death of her. Gay-induced death. How fitting.
“Aw yeah,” Mizuki whispers to themself, “I’m beating the bitchless behavior allegations.”
“Never mind. You’re actually the worst,” Ena feigns shifting away.
“Noooo, Enanan, please, I can’t beat the bitchless allegations without you,” they hold onto her tighter, unbeknownst to them that Ena’s plot of ‘Being Held By Her Girlfriend’ is working splendidly.
“Good luck then, you’re on your own.”
“You’re so mean to meeeee.”
“And you’re so annoying. Can’t keep the mood to save your life.”
“But it’s funny! It’s endearing!”
“Who told you that? Because they lied to you.”
“You told me that!”
Ena doesn’t lie. She jokes, she riffs, and she avoids talking about certain things when she’s not in the mood, but she doesn’t lie.
“Fine. It’s true. You’re funny and endearing and cute and wonderful. Is there anything else you want from me?”
“Nope!” they cheer, “I even got two more compliments! I can’t stop winning today!”
She can’t stand them. She wants to be with them forever.
“I’m winning as well,” she mumbles, her voice betraying how tired she is.
“We’re both winning,” they respond, also sounding exhausted.
“Mrgh. Goodnight, love you,” she lets out, not really paying attention to what she’s saying and more focused on finally getting to sleep. Mizuki tenses for a moment, their arms and legs stiffening in their position, and immediately relaxes again.
“Love you too, ‘night.”
Maybe Ena was a little too brash with that. Not like it was on purpose, nor was it dishonest. Shinonome Ena doesn’t lie, after all.
(Mizuki scrambles out of bed the next morning, leaving Ena complaining in a pile of sheets. “I didn’t finish the commission!”)