Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They kissed at prom. They kept flirting at school like dumb idiots. They graduated. They moved in together afterwards, and figured out Ikea furniture together.

That was the cliched joke - they were roommates who liked each other. Kissed sometimes. Went shopping together and hung out all the time. Didn’t make a label of it. Not together-together. Couldn’t make a promise of it, with the future so uncertain. Still, a preciously happy time, suspended in memory, captured like a snow globe.

Mitsuki moved. To LA. With Kanna-san. Said I’ll keep in touch. She did try. But stuff was happening. Her music was gaining traction. At some point, she told Aya, I’m moving to New York. It’s better for my career. It really was. Now her music is blowing up. Signed with a label. Less and less texts. Longer periods between facetimes. Then just dropped off.

She saw her, Mitsuki, in an online article, when she was scrolling her phone on the commute to her job, her first big girl job with an up and coming cosmetic company. Didn’t know she would do so well there, but she adored her co-workers and her boss and they adored her back. They were a tight team, a small team with only 8 people, but they made big strides.

Now they’re trying to expand overseas. Need someone to go to New York for a thing. Will put you up in a hotel.

New York. For her job, of course. Aya said she would love to do it if she could use her vacation time and stay a bit after. Don’t worry, she’ll pay for her own stay, after all the work events end.

New York was cool. She’s always wanted to go. She only knew one person there. Still has her number saved in her phone. Maybe that person was too busy for her though.

/

Mitsuki replied to her text right away. Aya was a little surprised she kept the same number. They’ll be meeting for dinner, a late dinner, like after 8:30pm dinner. It makes sense. Mitsuki was a busy person and Aya just dropped this on her. Hey! This is sudden but I’m in New York for work, want to catch up?

Aya was touched Mitsuki’s even making time for her. It’s been a few years. She half expects Mitsuki might have to cancel, but she shows up to dinner only 10 minutes late. They’re in a pretty nice place. Well, that’s actually an understatement. They’re at fucking Eleven Madison Park. Don’t know how Mitsuki got the reservation. Well, I guess she might know, if she thinks about it.

Mitsuki’s wearing a crisp white shirt, black suit trousers, her long hair slicked back. Looking so gorgeous, maybe overly so. It’s a little hard to take in. Aya puts on her best dress and heels. They look like they’re going to a wedding, or like the grown up version of prom, and yet still not the most dressed up people at the place.

Dinner takes very very long. The food was… well, Aya would have been pissed if she had to pay for it, not that she’s all that comfortable dining like this on someone else’s dime either. Mostly she just tries to not think about it. They’re telling each other about each other’s lives now. Or, Aya is doing most of the telling. Mitsuki says, I just like to listen to you.

That was the big catch-up. Her sharing about her work, coworkers… that was how friends caught up when they were adults. But, after dinner, Mitsuki tells her about a little party. It’ll be at a private club. Her friend’s DJing the place. Will she be okay with that? Aya says, I’d love to.

So now they’re dancing. Aya took off her heels. Dancing barefoot. Finally feeling happy and heated. Feeling the loud, loud music. It’s not completely her type of music, but it’s cool. And the DJ is Mitsuki’s friend… didn’t think Mitsuki would have friends like that, but, it makes sense. It’s not like you had to have the same music taste to be friends with someone. The world isn’t that narrow after you grow up.

They’re hanging out by the wall afterwards. Mitsuki sipping on something. It’s just ginger ale. My throat hurts a little, she explains. But I’m not sick.

Right, your money maker. Gotta take care of it, of course. Aya jokes. Mitsuki laughs. Aya, I’m so very happy to see you.

Everyone seems to know Mitsuki. Of course. She’s famous. Coming up saying, Hey. Happy to see you. Missed you, Mitsuki. Cheek kisses. People here say those kind of things a lot, and they’re grabby with their hands.

New York people. Foreign people. There’s a lot of East-Asians here too. Some even speak fluent Japanese.

“Who’s this?”

“Friend from Japan.” Mitsuki is grinning.

Friend.

Mitsuki turns to her. “Where are you staying tonight, Aya?”

“Our girl is saying she wants to take you home.” A tall, beautiful girl is saying. She’s a model, and she’s one of the people that can speak in Japanese, her lips twitching as she talks. It might as well still be in a foreign language because Aya can’t process it.

The model turns and gives Mitsuki a meaningful look. “Right, Mitsuki-chan?”

“If you don’t mind, Aya.” Aya finds herself nodding, as if in a dream.

“Did you drink, Mitsuki-chan?”

“Not a drop.”

“Good. Take my car.” The model is throwing a set of keys, which Mitsuki catches before it lands on her.  “Can’t have more of those stupid allegations.” The model scoffs. “Pack of hyenas, the lot of them.”

Allegations?

Outside, it’s slightly warm. They make their way to a side street where a car has been parallel parked into oblivion, tetrised between two others.

“You’re so quiet.” Mitsuki says, unlocking it with a practised push of a button.

And where did you learn how to talk to people so well. Aya wants to know. But she holds her tongue.

“I’m just a little tired. Still a bit jet-lagged.”

“It was really nice seeing you today. I’ve missed you.”

“Yeah.” Aya says. then corrects herself. “Me too,” because she does, so much that it hurts, so much that she thought she wasn’t allowed to admit it, because then how would she be able to overcome it, the immenseness of the missing.

They’re in a tiny, European-looking thing, a Mini Cooper. But a lot more spacious inside than it looks. Mitsuki drives. Drives really well too, weaving between yellow taxis, merging onto the freeway.

Feels like there’s a lot of things between them. Disappearing, reappearing. Like flashing lights, blinding her seconds at a time. “A lot of people here turn on their high beams for no reason.” Mitsuki is explaining. “It’s dumb.”

The night will end now. She will go to her airbnb, her carriage a pumpkin, and then… what? She looks down. Cinderella still has her shoes on.

“Hey, when you say you want to take me home… whose home? Mine, or yours?” Aya wonders if she’s really the one saying this. Her voice comes out clear though. Confident.

There’s a beat. “Whichever one you want.” Mitsuki’s voice doesn’t sound like hers. Aya leans back into the headrest, closes her eyes.

“Yours, then.”

/

“I missed you.” She’s allowed to now, right? Now the gates have been opened, that’s all she wants. To tell Mitsuki about the missing. Miss and miss and missing you.

They’re at Mitsuki’s apartment, which is in uptown Manhattan. Mitsuki took the car and drove it right back up into the city. A condo that has parking, with valet. An older doorman, who greets you by name, and dark red velvety panels in the elevator as they ride it all the way up. Tokyo is a cosmopolitan city too, but this all feels very weird. As if only very important people live here.

“Yeah?”

“Um,” She also wants to say Mitsuki’s name but she doesn’t know how to address her now. It’s been so long, she feels stupid. “…you, um.”

Mitsuki has offered her some water. In a short, wide glass, what you would serve whiskey in. It clinks when she sets it down on the counter. The apartment is all greys and black, She guesses those can be said to be Mitsuki’s favourite colours, but it’s just all the super wrong type of grey. Very cold. All the lights are dim.

“Maybe you should call me what you used to back in school.”

“Koga-san?”

A low sound, almost like a groan. “Yeah, like that.”

“I really really missed you, Koga-san.” She’s breathing into Mitsuki’s ear.

Mitsuki says, can you please show me how much.

Aya undoes the belt. Sound of the buckle so loud in the room. Mitsuki’s guiding her hand into the inside of her own suit trousers. the fabric feels very silky but wet. It’s Mitsuki’s thighs that are soaking wet. She’s really into this. Aya realizes.

She needs to slip out of her own dress, Turn around, Mitsuki whispers. Hand coming to help her unzip, it falls off her shoulders.

“You’re so pretty.” Aya hears Mitsuki say. Should she undo the clasp on her bra?

As if reading her thoughts. “No, leave it on.”

But there’s too much clothes between them still. Mitsuki’s white dress shirt is getting to be like crumpled paper. Aya starts unbuttoning it, for her. There’s—

—marks all over Mitsuki’s body. How did she miss those, earlier?

Some look like bruises. Another look like a bite mark. She didn’t know earlier but she pressed her hand against one, on side of the torso, in the darkness of the club.

Mitsuki must see a look on her face because she says, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing I didn’t ask for.”

What the fuck.

What are you… Her hands stop. She feels sick.

She thinks about the online article. Mitsuki photographed with some guy. There’s another one, Mitsuki standing so close to this girl with really long hair. The model, at the afterparty. Smirking. The press photos. Packs of smokes in the apartment. Allegations, of what, she doesn’t even know.

What is she even asking from Aya right now? Going to ask for? This person asking her. This person who smells like cigarettes and rain who she doesn’t know at all. Aya… doesn’t want this. Not like this. Not at all. She feels so, so sick.

She pulls off completely, Mitsuki’s eyes going wide. Aya feels panicked breathing, but doesn’t know whose it is. Everything is one big sharp intake. Pressure in the lungs.

“Hey. Hey, don’t cry. please,” Mitsuki is saying to her. She can barely register it though. feels like she has suffocated, even when it’s suppose to be soft. Suffocated with cotton. “I’m helpless when you cry. You know that. I’m sorry. Shit, shit.”

Aya thinks her hands might be pulling her stuff around her. Everything a haze, like wading through mud. Taking her dress and shoving it in a bag. Crumpled. Gonna be a beast of a dry cleaning bill. She doesn’t care. “I’m sorry. Wait.” Her Japanese credit card still isn’t syncing with the Uber app. She’s gonna have to figure out the subway in her heels. Fuck. “Don’t go. Wait.”

Oosawa-san.

Aya stops. Haven’t heard Mitsuki call her that in a long, long time. Mitsuki takes a deep breath. She’s pulling her clothes back on. Aya has to look away, trembling.

“Look, it’s really late. Just stay here tonight. I’m not asking you to do anything else. Just stay here, you can sleep in the guest bedroom. We can talk in the morning. Or you can leave then, if you still don’t want anything to do with me.”

The moon is so large in the sky, it feels like it’s engulfing the city. Or maybe that’s just Mitsuki’s penthouse view. She’s only staying here because of that, because it’s way nicer than the airbnb. But will she be able to sleep at all, she’s thinking, as she closes her eyes, and without knowing how, falls into a deep soft darkness.

/

There’s not much in the apartment. So fancy, but so empty. Is that what’s become of the person in front of her?

“Good morning.” She will just politely drink this coffee, and then she will leave.

“Morning. You sleep okay?”

She actually did. Unfortunately. Because now that she feels better, she might let herself get swayed and make bad decisions.

She slept in Mitsuki’s tank top and some boxers. She only has the dress and heels from yesterday, stuffed in a plastic bag, which she’s going to have to extract and put back on, for an upcoming walk of shame.

“You can’t be wearing those things, Aya. Please don’t be stubborn about it. Keep what you’ve got on and come with me. I have some clothes for you. At my studio.” Mitsuki takes out her phone, calling an Uber?

“What about the car? From your… friend?”

“Yumi-san? Yeah, she’s really nice. She scares me though, so I’m not driving her car more than I have to.” Mitsuki sticks out her tongue to the side of her mouth a little, frowning. Feels familiar. “And I hate how she treats me like a kid! But I think she knew I really wanted to impress you, last night…”

The Uber comes eventually, sliding in front of the back entrance of the apartment. Aya has on Mitsuki’s dress shirt over Mitsuki’s tank top. It actually kinda looks like a good outfit. Mitsuki’s joking with the driver in English. Aya’s studying English at the company but she can’t quite make up what this guy’s saying, due his thick accent. Everything sounds like a vowel, elongated but rough.

It’s a different world here. What does it take to survive out here?

But at one point Mitsuki blushes a little at something the guy says, and glances over at Aya. “You doing okay?” Aya just nods.

The drive is a bit long. They’re in another place, far from the skyscrapers. Park slope. Red brick houses between trees and kids in tiny little playgrounds. A neighbourhood, almost gave the same feeling as a CD shop from a long time ago, in her memories.

The studio is three floors up from a cafe. Inside, there’s equipment everywhere. Records, posters. A small potted plant, like the one Aya once saw in Mitsuki’s high school bedroom. Some books, both in Japanese and English, pages dog-eared. Lived in. Slept in, if judging by the state of that sofa.

Things that look like things she’s seen before. At least 3 guitars. A Yamaha Pacifica, like Mitsuki’s first guitar, a sticker on it Aya almost recognizes.

“It’s just… fuck.” Mitsuki runs her hand through her hair, which is loose and long now. But hey, Aya’s own is short. It’s just hair, people are allowed to change. It’s not like she’s completely the same person, either. “My manager quit on me last night. Not the first manager I’ve had do that either. I feel like I’m just impossible to work with. And I’m not trying to use you to hurt myself or anything like what you’re thinking.” Mitsuki looks at her, grey eyes rueful. “It’s just hard to have someone who loves me see me when I’m like this, I’m not doing it right obviously…”

“You think I love you.”

Mitsuki goes red. “Sorry. I assumed.”

Aya hates it. That Mitsuki still reads her so easily. A stranger, yet not.

“Fine. I do still love you, but does that matter? I don’t even know you anymore.” She has to put that out there.

Mitsuki licks her lips. It looks a bit dry. A part of Aya still wants to kiss it better.

“Yeah, okay. I get that. But would you be willing to? Know me again, I mean.”

And what the hell. She always has that way with words. That way with her. And Aya’s still a huge sucker. Some things never change. “I’m here for 4 more weeks. Staying in Brooklyn as well. More central though.” She offers.

“On the L train?”

Aya shrugs. “Maybe? The trains here are so messed up.”

“I know. Disgusting, right?” Mitsuki smiles.

Aya thinks she might be smiling back.

Chapter Text

Aya closes the laptop with a tap. Her manager had pretty much kicked her out when she saw her name on the Teams meeting. Oosawa-san, mind I remind you you’re on vacation? So take it properly you silly girl. She had 4 weeks, and that wasn’t even all she was allocated for the year, since she had some built up from the years prior.

But 4 weeks was already a lot. If she took more than that, then she felt she was pretty much telling Mitsuki she was ready to move out here for her. Aya stretches, pulls her chair away and peers out the window of her 3rd floor walk-up. Corrects herself. Airbnb, not hers.

Though, she wouldn’t mind living here, when she looks out the window like this, the huge swaths of sunshine softly blanketing brick graffiti-ed walls, people with coffees in their hands and walking their dogs on narrow sidewalks. Sunny, perfect Wednesday morning in the neighbourhood. Though people are telling her, nobody actually lives in Bushwick these days. It’s just a tourist trap.

She hasn’t seen Mitsuki since… Saturday. She’d left Mitsuki’s studio shortly after agreeing to see each other again. Mitsuki had hugged her goodbye. Told her: I’m recording something the following two days, but I can give you the address and you could come by to listen if you wanted to.

She did want to, and a younger version of her would have showed up, saying something about how she was Mitsuki’s first fan.

But here’s the thing about growing up. Adults can’t easily do the things that we once did as youths. She’s not even saying this in a longing way, as if she thinks she’s a coward or something. The adult her just thought she needed much more from Mitsuki before she would be comfortable being that way. The adult her knew that once she started giving, the momentum would keep it going for much longer than the other person deserved.

Yesterday, she had her own plans to see a musical. They were the cheapest tickets of the week, and she didn’t want to invite Mitsuki to it, because of the same dumb reasons. And now she’s just trying to work so she doesn’t have to make a decision. She doesn’t want to sit around thinking about her next move in this, because even that made her feel like she was giving too much to it. She wanted to do something she felt sure in, confident about, to get back her footing.

Work, her comfort zone, when she gave to it, it always gave back. Like how just being apart of the meetings, even without contributing, gave her an illusion of productivity. Except her amazing, loving manager had literally locked her out now with a >:( emoji. Sigh.

Maybe adults were dumb, but adults also ran the world.

Mitsuki texts her. How was the musical?

Loved it. Aya replies back.

Are you free today? I really want to see you.

And that was that. Can’t find any part of herself that doesn’t want to say yes to that, even if it did sound like it came out of a player’s mouth. She recalls how Mitsuki’s hug lingered. Fingers goes to the typing screen.

“I’m free. Where?”

/

Mitsuki asks her to meet at Central Park. Enter from 81st street. Then the text goes “…” like when someone’s typing. And then nothing, like when someone stops typing. “…” Now typing again.

All that anticipation only amounts to: Do you need better directions?

No, I got it. Don’t look down on me. You know how I am with my google maps. Aya writes back.

Yup, how can I forget? I used to rely on you all the time.

It was playful and a thoughtful callback to the old threads of their connection. But Aya still finds herself focusing on that one little part. Used to.

Mitsuki is waiting for her by the entrance to the park. “Sorry, I would have picked you up, but I got this wieldy guy with me.”

A huge dark brown poodle, eyes intelligent, comes over to nuzzle at Aya’s waist. Aya can’t help but gasp at the sight, a peel of laughter escaping her lips, bending down to marvel at the delightful creature, her fingers already making her way into the soft fur.

“What’s his name?”

“Douglas.”

Mitsuki joins her in petting him. Their fingers brush against each other.

“He’s Yumi-san’s, but she lets me borrow him Wednesdays and Fridays. Right, Douglas?” Douglas gives a short little happy bark.

The backstory kind of fizzles out Aya’s joy a little, but she’s still fairly giddy, as they make their way through the ravines. Douglas terrorizing some squirrels.

“I pick him up from Yumi-san’s and then we take the subway together up here.”

It sucked to hear this stranger’s name in Mitsuki’s mouth so often, but the mental image of the story is still really funny. “Oh really. He’s allowed to take the subway?”

“Yeah, lots of people do that here. And instead of crates, they put the smaller dogs in their tote bags,” which makes Aya laugh more.

Two days later, a Friday, Mitsuki texts, Central Park, same time :)? And even though only the first week has gone by, they already had a little routine down.

/

She thought the L line was bad, but she was clearly naive. The L line is a straight arrow of beaming hope. The F line, that’s the worst. F for fail. She’s been at the Delancey-Essex Street station for an hour now, and the train hasn’t come. The only thing Aya’s sure about is that she’s completely out of the loop. Her english is… I mean, it doesn’t completely suck, after all the studying and classes her company gave her. It’s obviously not native-fluent, but she can still read stuff.

Usually.

The yellow Helvetica text above the subway tracks reads: Late nights take Z to Jamaica Center-Parsons. Doesn’t know what that means, and still doesn’t even after consulting google translate. She checks the subway map, blown up large and situated in the middle of the platform. F looks correct. Then there’s another paper on the steel vertical beam to her left, holding up the ceiling. The paper’s ripped and falling apart, so she didn’t think to look before. The paper says, Ongoing track work, F doesn’t stop at Delancey-Essex on Sundays starting August 4th until October 19th. What day was it today? Fuck New York.

Aya was taken in by the guy buskering in the station stop, despite the clear loss of audience. She puts a five in his little open suitcase. The bill is sweaty and crumpled because somehow even money is disgusting here. She compliments his piano playing, which he performs from a keyboard set up. She puts on her best networking voice. How do I get to Park Slope from here? He tells her faster to just exit and walk to the next stop. He also gives her one of his CDs, free of charge, because “Lady, you’re a fox” and even though she’d normally be annoyed, it’s actually kinda funny somewhat, this whole thing.

Mitsuki’s barefoot at the studio, making them coffee and setting the mug in front of Aya. Aya told her about her misadventures with the subway, earlier. “You poor thing,” Mitsuki had said. “I was worried.”

Mitsuki also seemed to be thinking a bit and went Oh next time you’re in that area you should message Yumi-san, she lives around there and she can show you around. Mitsuki went on a little more about how nice Yumi-san is.

Aya can’t help think, I doubt that, but tampers down on the thought.

She lets Mitsuki put the number in her phone. Aya’s never going to use it, but I guess she could be a little grateful that model girl had that adorable dog of hers that she just apparently loans out to people to use for their park dates or whatever.

Mitsuki makes sure she’s all settled in and comfortable with a thin throw blanket and snacks, before she goes and grabs one of her guitars. Across the room, she settles down on the carpet, legs crossed, and starts with some chord progressions. She also does some vocal warm ups and drinks sips of water in between, which is new for Aya to see, the telltale signs of a professional at work.

Aya supposes she is one too, typing at her laptop. She’s got several tabs open and she’s formalizing a report. Take your vacation, her boss is chiding, her imaginary figure materializing in Aya’s brain, looking stern. I know, I know. But this is, and also isn’t for work, it’s more for herself, the thing Aya’s working on.

Mitsuki goes, “Am I distracting you?”

Aya says, “Maybe a little. But I don’t mind. You slow me down in good way.”

Mitsuki’s smiling slowly at that, all upper teeth nibbling on bottom lip. Aya silently listens to her play for a bit longer, some of the chords sounding like they’re tumbling, and then says, echoing back Mitsuki’s earlier question:

“Am I distracting you?”

“A little.” Mitsuki puts down her guitar, comes over, leans in and kisses her, chaste, on the cheek. When she pulls away, she’s grinning hard, as if they’ve just done something immensely monumental. “But in the way where I’ll have more songs than ever at the end of it.”

/

Between park dates and texts and studio hang outs and one trip to the Whitney, two weeks pass in a flash. It’s already the following Sunday. It was really hot, temperature as if it was the peak of July, even though it was September. They took the F to Coney Island, and Aya’s thinking, maybe F stands for Fun now.

Sad that Douglas couldn’t come because dogs weren’t allowed on the beach, but they spent all afternoon running around in the sand and splashing water and looking at kitschy amusement park relics. A lot of places were closed, but neither of them cared, it was even funnier that way. Mitsuki asked if she wants to share a Coney Island hotdog, and Aya looked at the photos supposedly advertising the thing, and said, “You couldn’t pay me to.”

The sun was dipping and it was getting chilly finally, and now your sweat was sticking to you, and Aya says, wants to, so asks: “Want to come over to my place? You can stay over, we can get bagels in the morning.”

Mitsuki laughs and says, “Said like a real New Yorker.” Eyes all shiny. They take the F and transfer to the M and it takes a whole hour and 20 minutes, Brooklyn was so big, but now they’re at her airbnb and they ran all the way up the three flights of stairs, going breathless at the top.

Mitsuki says, “I’m gross, I’m going to take a shower.”

“There’s only a bathtub in there.”

“How inconvenient.”

“Nah, I find it kinda romantic. You’ll see.” It was an old school bathtub with clawfoot legs, and brass piping. Black and white checkered tiles, and foggy translucent glass on the walls. So quaint. It was what sold her on this airbnb, dreamy. Brooklyn had such awesome little gems, little pieces of history preserved. 

“Can’t wait.” Then asks, tentatively. “Do you want to…take one together?” Mitsuki is looking at her, not hoping, not expecting, just a happy invite. 

Aya says, “Tempting,” which it really was, and she’s not being sarcastic about it. She’s just not ready for that yet. She still remembers the first night like it was yesterday, that rush of emotions… leads to stuff happening in the wrong kind way. She wants to be very careful about it, now. What they have together is still new, kind of fragile. “Let’s not though, yet?” Then pulls a silly expression to show no harm, hands on her face. "Sorry.”

"Are you telling me you’re feeling shy?”

“Shush.”

“Why are you the cutest.” Mitsuki mumbles, still pleased, before ducking into the bathroom. Aya wants to giggle. She feels 16 again. 

Oh, but the towels are not in there. She used one set yesterday and they’re still in the hamper. The host message had said there’s more though, in the closet down the hall.

Mitsuki sees her peeking in and smiles, sweet. “Aya.. did you want to get in the bath with me after all?”

“Just giving you a towel. They were in the hallway closet.”

Aya doesn’t… well, she’s confronted by the thought of the marks. She doesn’t want to see them. Two weeks. They should have faded by now. Unless there’s new ones.

What if there’s new ones.

Despite herself, she’s checking Mitsuki’s body. Where would new ones be hiding?

Guess the glances don’t seem like the appreciative type because Mitsuki says, “Aya, I’m not… I’m not doing anything with anyone else right now. You know that, right?”

But ‘right now’ means Mitsuki ‘has before’ and the thought of that makes a chill run through Aya’s stomach. She feels very cold.

Mitsuki softens at her change of expression. “Aw, hey. Don’t do that. What are you thinking?”

“Nothing, really.”

“You sure? You can tell me…”

She doesn’t. Want to. Talk about this.

She slides the door back shut. Says, “I’m not like, judging you for it or anything.” Hoping the closed door makes that sound better.

She hears the rush of water as Mitsuki suddenly gets up from the bathtub. “I didn’t know you were judging anything in the first place.” Something else is being said too, but it’s being muffled into the towel.

Aya feels defensive, now. She didn’t do anything wrong. She wasn’t saying anything about it. Mitsuki was the one asking.

Why ask if you don’t want to hear the answer?

“And I’m not. Because the people you hang around with, they think that kind of stuff is okay, I’m sure, so I get why you would too.”

“The people I…“ More sounds in the bathroom.

She should not be having this conversation. She doesn’t really know what she’s trying to say. It’s just that. She’s not mad at Mitsuki or anything. But she does think they’re a bad influence. Those people. New York is the problem. If only Mitsuki stayed in Japan, she would have had better friends.

Better friends or just ones you’re less threatened by, Aya? But she does not want to walk down that path of thought.

“You know, those people, they really like you, Aya. They know you make me really…” Mitsuki stops talking.

The door opens. She sees Aya standing there, not sure what she sees actually, because Mitsuki suddenly says, “So even if I did sleep around, before, before you got here, what does that change? I’m suddenly no longer worthy of being with you now?”

The air is really damp, humid. Not really good ventilation in this small apartment. It’s too old. Why did she pick it again? 

So stuffy. Very little air. How Mitsuki is still talking with so little room to breathe in here, she doesn’t know.

“Was I suppose to wait for you for the rest of my life? Because it’s not like you were here, right?”

Where is this all coming from? Aya’s a bit confused. She’s not letting it show on her face though, because honestly Mitsuki’s blowing this way out of proportion. She’s allowed to be unsettled. Anyone would be if they saw the person they loved so dearly covered with marks from another person. Anyone normal would feel the way she feels. What’s wrong with this place? Because it’s New York, so it’s so radical, or progressive to be so careless with your body? Make it make sense.

“You’re the one who left, though.” She says, because she thought that was the obvious answer? She’s really… not being emotional here, she’s sure.

“Because you never told me to stay!”

Mitsuki is… angry? At her. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen that. And Mitsuki’s voice is a bit strong sounding.

The thing is, and maybe this is stupid because she was in her mid 20’s now, but they met in high school, and fell in love there.

Mitsuki was suppose to have been her perfect love story. And you weren’t suppose to be with other people in a perfect love story. Now that the thought is fully formed, it does sound kind of immature. It’s just.. she was so into work all this time, she didn’t really think about looking at anyone else that way. Actually nobody else ever even caught her attention.

It was kinda like that all her life, before Mitsuki anyways, so she didn’t think it was out of the ordinary. She thought Mitsuki was the same as her, so even when they were apart, the only thing she had to deal with was the missing Mitsuki part. But Mitsuki clearly was living a different life. That’s what hurts the most. 

Aya thinks her cheeks feel wet. How strange.

“Sorry,” Mitsuki is saying. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice.”

What happens next, she’s expecting, is Mitsuki is going to come and hug her and tell her everything would be okay. But Mitsuki is grabbing her own clothes instead, putting them on in a hurry, even though they’re still sweat-soaked. “Sorry, I think I should go.” 

But I thought you would never be able to leave me alone, if I was crying.

That’s why I never cried. Even at the airport, seeing you off, on the day you left. So you could be free to pursue your dreams.

For what? For you to become this person, that seems to be so hurt by what I said, you don’t even care if I cry or not?   

Great, now she has to admit she’s crying. She hates that. It’s really the worst.

Not as bad though, as the fact, and this she can’t admit, because what would it mean, if she was the one who was hurting Mitsuki the most right now?

Chapter Text

New York, 1 year ago

It’s all mahogany wood and thick curtains in this bar. A display of speciality whiskeys, backlit in an area to the side, while a huge selection of other popular spirits in a half moon counter, surrounded by thick columns, stands solidly in the middle of the large dining area, where most of the tables gather around. They called the people who dined in those tables “outside” people though. The public. When Mitsuki comes in, the waitstaff quickly ushers her to a smaller, more private room in the back, behind the whiskey display. There are only a few booths, spaced very far apart, in this room.

And now she waits. Waits for her… date… that she matched on Raya. Jesus. How is she doing this right now. She’s really at rock bottom. Last year’s been the worst year she’s had. Moved to New York for her career, which worked out, as her songs are streaming to new heights. So it was all worth it?

At least that’s what she tells to herself like a mantra every morning, or else she doesn’t think she’ll be able to get out of bed.

Waiter that has been just assigned to her comes by, addressing her by name. Mitsuki says, Water for now, I’m still waiting for my date.

Her date. His name was Imani. What is she suppose to tell him. For what reason have I set this up, even though I don’t like guys? Although when she sees him in person he seems really soft, like one of the cutest guys she’s ever seen. Still, she just says what she thought earlier, because she’s stupid and shitty. But he just laughs at her.

“Fair. Guys suck.” He orders a drink, then gestures to her. She orders the same thing as him, because he probably knows the menu better than her. It’s her first time here. He is also saying, “Though I don’t totally consider myself a guy.”

Mitsuki thinks, What now. I told him I don’t like guys. He said he’s not one. I do know what he means, I’m not clueless. But am I still suppose to hook up with him? Them?

As if hearing her thoughts, he says: “You can use ‘he’ though, it’s fine.”

She worries how she’s going to start the conversation, but he seems to already have lots to say. For example, he tells her about this cool listening party. Bunch of music people and other creatives invited, to somebody’s basement, lower east side. But it’s not an industry thing. It’s just a casual hangout, although the music being played is still unreleased. You have to promise not to leak.

Also says to her, “If you want to meet a babe, I will introduce you to Yumi. She’s Japanese too. Total babe. Gonna be at the party.”

Mitsuki says, “No girls, either,” while feeling even worse. He must think she’s the epitome of weird.

“Nobody? Well it’s fine, we can just go there to hang.”

“Is ‘nobody’ weird?”

“Hmm, I guess you’re just figuring it out.” Their drinks come. It’s of course whiskey based, as this was the bar’s speciality. But the pairing of lime syrup, and a hint of cherry makes it taste really good, she was right about him.

He talks more. I’m just happy to meet another queer artist making cool music. It’s very old school American rock sound, your music. But you’re from Japan? Moved here a year ago? Oh from LA. Originally from Japan though. You’ve been all over. Your English is really good. You wanna go to the listening party or do something else?

He’s really chatty, but not the type of chatty that’s anxious to fill the silence. He’s very at ease, even though this is the first time he’s meeting her, and she has been nothing but really weird, clearly, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He’s just really happy about stuff, in general. She needs more of that energy.

“The party, then.” Mitsuki says.

/

The music at the party is very good. It’s a gospel-trained singer over lo-fi hiphop. She’d use to only listen to American Rock, but now her tastes have really expanded. Of course, American Rock is still the most comforting, the most her. But she doesn’t need it to be about “her” all the time, she’s not a teenager trying to find herself. In fact, she’s actually worse off. Pointless thought. Focus on the sound.

Nobody is dancing though, because it actually is somebody’s basement, but designed very particularly. Chrome shelves, concrete, but warmed up with a Moroccan rug and lots of textiles on the walls. Two big brown leather couches. Floor pillows. Amazing sound system for the size of the space, the floor feels like it’s rumbling.

There’s not too many people, and everyone who is there looks cool, in a low key way. A blunt is being passed around, and there’s a lot of alcohol. People are mixing stuff, somebody has a whole bartending kit in a briefcase and other people are making fun of it. The spirits are high quality. Mitsuki’s partaking because she’s not a stranger to this stuff, she’s been here for a year by now.

She’s sitting between two other girls on the floor, and her original date, Imani, has wandered off to talk to another boy he knows apparently. Eyes going warm, like that other boy was someone very special. Mitsuki thinks, whatever between them feels familiar, like maybe she had that with somebody, once. Earlier, before he left her, he pointed to Yumi, who was, just as he said, a total babe.

A lot of music flies by. Mitsuki manages to chat a little to the people there. She’s better at talking than she used to be, but it’s still not her favourite thing. Although the weed and alcohol is helping. And it’s also helping that all these people are pretty relaxed, they don’t demand anything of her, really. They’re just mostly listening, drinking, smoking, and making little remarks that are funny.

Finally, Yumi, the beautiful girl, comes by. Mitsuki is really, really drunk at this point. More than drunk. High and drunk. Faded. She thinks she hasn’t been this out of it in a while. She stopped drinking a few months earlier, after— but today she lets loose. Yumi, the beautiful girl, has to hold her upright. “Imani says he brought a girl over he liked. He thinks you’re a bit wasted though. Wanted me to check on you. He’d check on you himself but he’s…occupied right now.” She quirks her lips.

“He likes me? He just met me.”

“He likes your energy. He’s usually right about people. What’s your name?”

“Mitsuki.”

“I’m Yumi.”

“I know. You’re like, really beautiful. I’m not saying that to hit on you. Sorry. You’re just very beautiful obviously.”

“You’re very sweet.”

“But Imani shouldn’t like me. I’m a terrible person.” Yumi is raising one of her eyebrows. Tells the people around them that she’s taking Mitsuki into the other room. Someone says, take care of her.

Yumi lays Mitsuki on a flat soft surface. She’s not sure if it’s a bed or not. Yumi says, “Why? What did you do? Cheat on someone? Deal drugs?”

“I didn’t deal, but I did try cocaine like once or twice. I’m horrible.”

“Well then I’m more bad than you, I tried it at least 10 times.” Mitsuki has to laugh. Is this a competition? This girl, Yumi, is funny. They chat a bit more, but the room is swirling too much. She’s still holding a drink in her hand. Yumi, taking a glass away from her. Saying, look, let’s get you to a cab. Where do you live?

“Upper West Side. I don’t want to go there though. Please don’t make me.”

“You can come to mine. It’s close to here. Sleep it off. “

The girl, Yumi, lets Mitsuki use her bed. Pours her a glass of water. Do you need anything else?

“Why are you so nice to me? Please don’t like me. I don’t think I can like you back.” Mitsuki thinks she’s crying. Crying in front of a stranger. So pathetic. “I don’t know if I can like anybody back. But I’m still so… lonely.”

“It’s okay. Don’t take this the wrong way, but to be honest you’re not really my type. I like girls with long hair.”

Mitsuki, smiling through the hot tears. “That’s fine. I’ll grow it out for you, Yumi-san.”

“Excuse me, but that’s your damn problem, Mitsuki. Why are you flirting with me if you don’t want me to like you?”

“Dunno. Just want to feel close to somebody.”

Yumi says, Well don’t rush into it. Holds Mitsuki’s hand until she falls asleep. Tells her, It’ll happen when it happens.

Next day, so mortified, apologizing nonstop. Yumi saying, It’s fine. I’ve seen worse happen. Mitsuki asks her for her number.

“Mitsuki, I’m drawing a boundary right here. I really mean it when I say you’re not my type. I don’t go for people who hate themselves, sorry. Although, you should grow out your hair. It’d look good on you.”

Mitsuki wonders, Will it? And then says, “Can I get your number as a friend though? I really don’t have any right now. Um, think of it as charity?”

Yumi laughs. People don’t say no to you easily do they?

“But sure,” says the girl Yumi, who ends becoming Mitsuki’s first real friend in New York. Imani texts her later too, to check in, and all of a sudden Mitsuki has two real friends. Not a bad start to the year.

/

New York, 2 years ago

Mitsuki wants to call her. FaceTime. But has to settle on text, which is fine. All her things are still in boxes. Hopefully not the charger because her phone is kinda low battery. Digs through her backpack, and finds the white cord.

Plugging it in with relief, Mitsuki sits cross legged on the floor and texts Aya, Aya I can’t believe it I’m in NYC!!! Call u later. When she was in LA, the best time to call was 5-6pm which would be 9-10am in Tokyo. Aya was doing an internship program but it started later in the day, after lunch.

Aya was a morning person, and Mitsuki was not. So she’d call Aya at 5pm and Kanna-san would start dinner in the background and after the phone call they’d eat dinner together, and Mitsuki would do the dishes.

It actually worked really well, because Kanna-san loved cooking and hated cleaning up. Kanna-san is such a blessing. So was the weather. A lot of the months even after dinner the sun would still be out, warm and golden. She’d play guitar and sing with the windows wide open, or sometimes go get ice cream with Kanna-san. Kanna-san taught her how to drive too, and let Mitsuki use her car, and she’d zip down the 405, towards Venice beach, watching the sunset there.

Though, with the move and all the hectic but good stuff happening recently with her music career, it fell off a bit at the end.

And now she was 4 hours off a plane, her stuff in boxes arriving before her, at the apartment she was meant to share with another girl, which she’s nervous about, and she wants to call Aya now, so Aya can talk her through it.

Anyways, the time difference between them now is actually shorter. So the best time to call is… ugh, she can’t with the math.

Aya got a job, during the time Mitsuki was figuring out the move, which Mitsuki was so proud of her for. Aya wakes up at 6am all the time anyways because she is insane, but now she’d be busy with her mornings. There was a commute involved, and she got back around 7:30? 8pm? Which was 7am in New York and there was no way, shape, or form Mitsuki could be awake during that time. By the time Mitsuki did wake up Aya had already gone to bed, to prepare for another day ahead. 9-5 work was brutal.

But Aya loved it. She thrived on schedules. Aya always texted that the job was fun and that her co-workers were awesome. Mitsuki was glad for her. Aya posted pictures and stories of her and her co-workers hanging out with captions that seemed like inside jokes. They did look really fun.

They had weekends. Except weekends was really busy for Mitsuki now. They were usually recording things, her management trying to put on events, do podcasts and magazine interviews. Just trying to blow her up in any way, but it was plateauing a bit. Doing all this just to stay relevant at the same level, when all she wanted to do was just work on the songs. But this was part of it too, part of making music, and she was meeting a lot of people, which was cool but it was a bit tiring.

Very tiring, and even though all of the people were nice, they weren’t exactly in her life outside of being an industry connection, and she had to be extremely ‘on’ in front of them, too.

2 months passed and they had called exactly once. And Mitsuki was a bundle of nerves about her roommate from day 1, who was a Japanese-American girl named Eri. They were on the same label and with the same management team too.

Eri moved here from Massachusetts. A small town near Boston. They had a lot in common on paper, and Eri was cool actually, but it was just hard to relax around Eri, because Eri was a big introvert, which made talking to her kinda hard because neither of them knew how to start conversations.

Eri also always acted so nervous around her, like she was afraid she was doing something wrong, which reminded Mitsuki of herself, a little, only worse. Eri’s anxiety made Mitsuki herself feel anxious around Eri too. Even though Eri was kinda her only friend right now, she secretly wished she could avoid her. But Eri was not only her roommate, but also a year or so younger than her and very sweet, which made Mitsuki feel responsible, to take on a more active role to get Eri to open up. Not something she was all that good at.

The thing is, Mitsuki’s been so busy, with no time to herself, and always feeling kinda bad and sad and tired and incredibly lonely for being so busy? She hasn’t even texted Aya in a while, and she thinks if she does she might end complaining a lot, which she doesn’t want to do, because Aya’s on a big project right now with her company, and Aya’s just going to worry, worry, worry, and she wouldn’t be able to really do anything about it because what Mitsuki just really wants… needs is a hug from Aya, for Aya to hold her hand, and Aya is so far away and hearing her voice might drive Mitsuki out of her mind, especially since Mitsuki feels like she hasn’t been touched, or hugged by anyone who cares about her for what, months and months?

So what ends up happening is Mitsuki just likes a few instagram stories here and there, but then stops liking them because they’re always about Aya’s coworkers or hinting at things she doesn’t know about and she feels creepy liking them.

But on the outside, she’s thriving. In New York, and her following was slowly inching up with all the effort, maybe playing a slightly better venue? Hopefully. Her management is trying for more though. Eri was kinda in the same boat too, and they’d trade stories sometimes, but Eri was also very cautious around her, too. She didn’t do hugs at all with Mitsuki, but she’d hug her friends no problem, the few that came by. I guess they still weren’t that close, despite living together for 7 months now and Mitsuki trying to be.

Mitsuki’s very tired after another day of meetings and she’s in her room alone, drinking to take off the edge.

It’s not as bad as it sounds. It’s good tequila and she’s sipping it in a glass. This could be sophisticated looking, if it’s at a bar instead of her bedroom.

It’s getting pretty late. Dark outside. Her roommate hasn’t been home either the whole day, but now, Mitsuki hears a key in the door. Lots of sounds in the doorway. She expects Eri to retreat to her room, but, uncharacteristically, Eri knocks on her door. Asks if she can come sit on Mitsuki’s bed. Tears in her eyes, says she didn’t get a venue she’s been hoping for.

Mitsuki’s sorry about it, and hell, she’s already got the bottle open so she offers Eri some.

Now it’s like shots of Patron between both of them.

Actually, Mitsuki’s not sure if she’s ever seen Eri drink.

Is she being a totally horrible Senpai right now?

Eri is saying all this stuff, opening up for the first time, saying like they should collaborate on a song together or something, And oh, Mitsuki’s saying, yeah of course, and she’s patting Eri’s head, I know, I know, it’s rough out here, and then all of a sudden Eri’s touching her arm. Stroking it.

“Are you single, Mitsuki?”

Is she single.

Mitsuki doesn’t think so, and is about to say so, but then stops.

She’s not …actually in a relationship.

She has never been in a relationship. Technically she is very single, and maybe has been all her life. What is she even holding onto, when she hasn’t even texted another person outside of work for 4 months?

Why does that question feel so bad?

“Yeah.”

Eri smiles and keeps stroking her arm. Then pushes Mitsuki down on the bed. Asks, if she’s okay with this? She has been curious about stuff. Just wanted to explore some things? Help me figure it out together?

It’s rough out here.

Eri’s pretty gentle. It feels good being touched, but also kind of scary. So scary that Mitsuki closes her eyes the entire time. She doesn’t move much.

Is she a really bad Senpai?

She should be showing Eri how to do stuff, but she just can’t. And Eri seems to know what to do, anyways. Eri is taking stuff off her and putting her mouth on her, in various places. Places she’s never been touched.

It’s scary.

She just closes her eyes and thinks of Aya and then—   

What the hell is she doing.

She’s looking into Eri’s eyes and she realizes Eri likes her, like a lot a lot. Since who knows when.

She just let a girl who likes her kiss her all over and give her oral when she didn’t like her back and was thinking about someone else the whole time.

Who is she. She’s fucking horrible.

There’s no way she can face this. Eri is thanking her or something. Can’t hear the words exactly. Mitsuki somehow manages to make herself say, “Okay, but you should go back to your own room, you’ll sleep better there, and I’ll see you tomorrow.” Eri smiles and goes away, thankfully.

Shaking, Mitsuki takes out her phone, and blocks Eri’s contact.

What now. She has to go somewhere else. Like right now. And once she leaves, she can’t ever go back. Can’t exactly afford a hotel the night of so suddenly for however many days, because even though she’s doing well, the paycheques can be irregular, and right now it’s one of the irregular times. Also she doesn’t want to stiff Eri out of New York rent prices just like that?

What she does do, is go online and finds some person who’s a fan of hers, who lets her stay at her place for free, and just takes her guitar and a few other essentials in the Uber.

Oh god.

She makes that fan sign an NDA or something. She feels crazy. Oh god.

She tells management she needs help finding another place, but she’ll keep paying rent if Eri wants her to? Management is a bit confused. Management comes back, says Eri said it’s fine, she’ll get a new roommate, but she’s getting rid of all your stuff. Then asks,

uh…are you okay?

She nods. Hopefully it’s convincing. She can just throw herself into work. And somehow avoid Eri. You don’t have to cross paths even if you had the same management. It’s not like they’re part of some Kpop group.

She’s making some kind of fucked up music, but it’s actually doing really well, gaining traction like crazy.

Wow, so all experiences are good experiences when you’re an artist.

She can feel people looking at her at the studio, sometimes, as if they’re talking about her. Someone came up to her once and said, Look, I don’t want to take sides but it’s becoming a problem.

What problem?

Someone advices her, I think you should get new management. I think there’s someone out there that’s a better fit for you. I can show you how to get out of the contracts.

Yes please, she couldn’t get out fast enough.

New manager is very sincere. Hardworking and really likes her, says to her, Mitsuki, you need to use your looks more?

What looks.

You’re very attractive, and you have the perfect Asian features that are very in currently, and we should use that direction in the visuals.

Makes her feel sick,

When put like that. But she doesn’t have the energy to fight back right now or anything. It’s pretty hard to just keep moving.

Only the music is keeping her in motion. Management introduces her to a few people. Very good looking people.

Not sure for what reason.

She’s getting photographed, in the papers. Online. People are talking about her. She doesn’t think it’s all good stuff, but she can’t make herself check.

A part of her thinks about Joe. Really hopes he doesn’t know. He’s bad with computers and he’s not as good with reading English as speaking.

Really really hopes so.

She’s buying cigarettes now. Smoking. Management approves, says that’s actually fitting of the image.

Joe calls her. He’s in LA now, with Kanna-san. He stays home all day just so he can catch her with the time difference.

Are you okay Mitsuki? We really miss you. Can you visit? Should we visit?

She says she can’t, and they shouldn’t, one of her songs just streamed to #1, she has to play a bunch of important shows. He’s sad, pouty.

He tells her, “You’re the same to me, no matter what, and you never have to explain yourself, we love you, we’re so proud of you.” Tears are all over her face but at least it’s over the phone so he won’t know and Love you guys too.

Yeah, no matter what,

She closes her eyes, sinking into a huge bed with a huge moon over the window.

/

New York, 9 months ago

“Okay, so, even though you and this guy are, in your own words, soulmates,” and at this word Imani’s freckled brown face goes all slack and dreamy, “You went on a date with me on Raya because you aren’t exclusive?” Mitsuki turns to the barista, orders a black ice coffee.

The barista’s eyes widen with recognition, but doesn’t say anything. What’s so great about New York is there’s so much famous people here, but in general the culture is to leave them alone to be normal people. Not like Japan, or Korea, where you have disguise yourself.

“Yeah, we’re allowed to date other people. That’s actually important to me, why I think he’s my soulmate.”

“I don’t get it.”

“That’s okay, it’s not for everybody. That’s the magic of it, being your own person. You just have to find another person that gets it.”

Mitsuki bites her lip. Another person who gets it. She has that person, but she just hasn’t talked to that person in a long time. Doesn’t even know what that person is up to. Aya hasn’t posted on instagram in a long time. Should she send Aya a message? Because what if something happened? Even if something didn’t happen, Aya would be happy to hear from her, she’s sure… except…

Aya would ask her what was up, and Mitsuki doesn’t think she wants to lie. But what if something happened? She looked up Aya’s friend, Chizuru, found Chizuru’s instagram, and found a fairly recent story highlight that Aya was in, looking bright and happy.

Nah, Aya didn’t need Mitsuki in her life. Especially not now. She feels really creepy for even looking her up through other people. Mitsuki just has to admit, that they have separate lives now, but at least they thought of each other well, like, nothing bad between them happened, and she can be wishing Aya love from across the ocean.

But now what? She has to move on then. She’s really happy she met Imani on Raya and then Yumi through Imani, but she doesn’t really want to go back on the app. Honestly, she only went on in the first place as a weird way to feel bad about herself.

Maybe she can figure it out though. Imani seems to have all the answers. “Okay, but.. then are you guys officially in a relationship?”

“Yeah, we are.”

If she left Japan with the fact that she was in an official relationship with Aya, then, what. She can suddenly see her years in the states rewriting itself. Maybe she would have even forced herself to get up at 7am to make those calls. Because being official was kind of a proper promise between two people. She would have said, “No, I’m not single.” Shown pictures of her girlfriend to Eri from day one. Her and Eri might have been actual friends. Everything would have been different. She feels a little sick, tries to cover up that feeling with the black coffee.

“What time’s your photoshoot today?” Imani asks her. Mitsuki checks her phone, 2pm? What are you up to today? Just spinning some beats in Astoria. That’s far. I love it there though, I’m gonna go to the Noguchi Museum after. I have a cute date waiting. Mitsuki smiles at her friend’s excitement. It was infectious.

It’s not like there’s a deadline to figuring it out. She’s sure Imani didn’t just become his own person in like a month or two, or even a year or two. And she’s got some people in her corner now, she feels like, even though it’s all very recent. It’s crazy how fast some friendships click, like she just belongs. She didn’t feel like that with anyone back in Japan. That’s probably what makes New York really worth it. Guess she wasn’t looking in the right places, only focusing on the career stuff. Speaking of which, she’d have to get ready for the photoshoot.

/

They leak the photo from the magazine early on purpose. Management connects to some super fans who are responsible for leaks. Builds hype that way. Go look it up online.

The photo comes out pretty well. It’s sort of more aligned to her personal style. There’s so many comments already. Love the art direction. Woah!! So sexy! mitsuki be mine <33333 One comment says ok but honestly she looks like she would enjoy being kicked around if u know what I mean. One under that, says pervert, and one under that says aren’t we all tho.

Ugh. She’s never looking up anything about herself ever again.

But, that night, back at her apartment in Manhattan, the one management helped find for her, one that she’s never fully moved into. Right, she has no stuff still. It doesn’t really matter. That night, she thinks of the comment for some reason, and now she’s touching herself, and it feels pretty bad, but kind of in a good way. She’s moaning under the covers.

Is she being totally gross right now? But who cares, right.

Nobody’s here to see her.

Who cares.

She’ll go to sleep alone every night, really, for the rest of her life.

She’ll move on.

Her body will find some ways to be touched. It’s New York. Seems like there’s a lot of ways to get things done around here.

But inside of her. She doesn’t think she’ll ever move on.

All this time. I have never moved on from you. Never. No matter what happens. I won’t. I decided I won’t, and that it’s okay not to.

I’ll be okay with that.

Chapter Text

“I want to be okay with it, but…”

Aya’s in Central Park, a place that now feels half-familiar. After Mitsuki left her airbnb, Aya had cried herself to sleep, so many thoughts running through her mind. She woke up to find a text from Mitsuki, which said: I’m sorry I overreacted. Aya, I still feel the same way about you. I just need a week. Can we talk after that?

Mitsuki actually communicating. She didn’t know Mitsuki knew how to write those kind of messages. Aya wonders where she learned it from. She does have some ideas.

And so now she’s in Central Park, walking with Yumi-san, out of all people, who she ended up calling after receiving Mitsuki’s message.

Aya told Yumi she missed her dog. Yumi called her a brat, and then said, Do you want to walk him with me?

Flowers were still in bloom in the park, and big patches of sunshine made its way through the leafy openings of mature trees, big spots of brightness on giant strips of grass that framed the paths. All along the way, the chatter of people filled the air, couples, runners, groups of friends that looked like they were from out of town that stopped periodically to take selfies. Some traditional looking families, people wheeling babies in strollers and toddlers holding hands and ice creams, but they stayed mostly on the big path near the signs. Lots of nontraditional looking families, which Aya didn’t know she loved seeing so much. Just the fact that it was openly visible, makes something inside of her shift.

“It’s just, a part of me doesn’t know what to do with the fact she did all those things while I wasn’t here.”

“Have you ever thought that maybe she did those things because you weren’t here?”

Oh.

Seeing the look on her face, Yumi softens. “I’m not trying to blame you, Aya-chan. It’s the opposite. I’m sure you would have loved to be here for her. And because Mitsuki knew that, she looked elsewhere. She did what she could, so she wouldn’t rip you away from your world.”

Douglas, everyone’s favourite big soft chocolate poodle, brings back a stick in his mouth, deposits it on the ground expectedly.

“But that made us grow apart.” Aya says, her throat thick. She picks up the stick, but instead of throwing it, drags it over the ground.

“Oh Aya-chan. Can I give you a hug?” Aya nods.

Yumi’s hug makes her want to cry. Damn does this Yumi girl have a way of getting people to open up, make them feel safe. Combined with that beauty, she could really use those powers for evil. But Aya could tell, just by hanging out with her today, that Yumi was a good person, and Mitsuki was lucky to have her. Aya was lucky that Mitsuki had her.

“From my point of view though, you two just grew into your own strong people. Two beautiful people, who still wants to be together. Doesn’t matter everything else and what changed and what didn’t. That’s what I see anyways. What her other friends see.”

Yumi releases her, giving Aya a comforting smile. Aya thinks back to her first impressions. What you see in the dark slickness of a club is totally different out here in the open, in the daylight of a park. Yumi tells her, unprompted, “You might be too close to see it. Relationships are tricky when it’s just two people in a bubble. Sometimes you need friends to get you out of your head.”

“I’m just scared.” The weeks are going by so fast. 4 weeks, is that enough time to know someone again? And one out of the four weeks, they won’t even be talking. “Am I going to lose her?”

“You won’t lose her.” Yumi says, confident. “She’s not lost. She found herself in these years, I can tell you that. Now that you’re here, there’s no way she’d let you go that easily. And Aya-chan, you’re here right now. Trying to get to know her through me. That tells me everything.”

Aya wants to believe her. Central Park. It’s so big. There’s ducks swimming side by side in the pond. There’s older folks walking in the park, still holding hands, still in love after all these years. There’s mixed couple same-gender older folks who lived through wars and separations and discriminations. The Stonewall riots that started right here in New York City, launching the gay rights movement, bringing people together, sending messages of love, maybe all the way to Tokyo, where she felt free to fall in love with the girl who sat next to her in high school. All these people, paving the way so she could experience that love in a kind way. Then, at least, she’s got to do her part in all of this too, right?

“It’s okay to be jealous. It’s really okay. It’s just a feeling, and feelings come and go.” Yumi is thoughtful. “Although, maybe you do demonize the other person in your head, and maybe it might help to meet one of these people, if you can handle it.”

“I can handle it. But why would they want to meet me?”

“Oh he wants to meet you, much more than you know.”

Yumi gently takes the stick from Aya and whips it through the air, and Douglas flies after it, a furry form leaping through the sky, his body a blur.

/

She said she can handle it, but Aya’s understandably anxious, very much so. How will she react. Is she going to punch this guy out? The fact it was a guy at all was already messing with her brain. She didn’t think Mitsuki…

She does not expect it at all, the cutest boy she’d ever seen, bouncing up to her, all brown skin and dark curls and freckles. He’s like a chibi, not even much taller than her. He put marks on Mitsuki? He seems like he has the paws of a kitten, just swiping at balls of yarn. It just doesn’t seem at all possible. 

“I’m Imani.” He says, grinning. “I heard all about you, Aya. I’m so happy to meet you.”

They’re having lunch in Greenwich. He tells her all about the menu, rattling off everything before the waiter can even get in a word. “Sorry, I’m kind of a foodie. I know, I’m so annoying. But you have to get the seafood pasta! It’s the best.”

She listens to him. The pasta’s spectacular. She doesn’t know how to start this conversation. She worries. But Imani seems to have lots of say.

He’s really chatty, but not the type of chatty that’s anxious to fill the silence. He’s very at ease, even though this is the first time he’s meeting her, and she has been nothing but really on edge, clearly, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He’s just really happy about stuff, in general. I guess everybody could use more of that energy.

“So, it’s not all as bad as it looks. I mean she bruises easily in the first place, which I’m sure you know. Oh, you don’t know? I’m sure you’ll know soon enough. Oh my god, shut up, Imani, you’re the worse you know that.” He’s talking to himself, looking kinda horrified and embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I really don’t want to make a bad impression on you, Aya. Please ask me anything you want to know.”

She asks if he has romantic feelings for Mitsuki and he says no, and she’s confused by the answer. How can you be intimate with someone you don’t love? He tells her, he loves her, but not like how you love her. Pauses. Says, she loves me, but not like how she loves you. You must think there are a lot of weirdos out here, and there are. But sometimes it’s good to be a weirdo when the world doesn’t make sense anyways. It’s all just love in the end.

Aya smiles. Seeing you I think I can believe that a little more. Thanks. 

Except now Aya is insecure because she’s thinking, Is Imani cuter than me? And she tells this to Yumi, who joins them later for dessert, when Imani is at the counter ordering, and Yumi just looks at her incredulously. “Are you for real right now? Aya-chan, your brain makes me…” She’s pinching her fingers on the bridge of her nose. “I thought Mitsuki was bad, but wow…”

“There is no one cuter than you in her eyes, and if I have to hear about it one more time my brain will bleed out from my ears. No offence, I mean you are cute, Aya-chan.”

Aya blushes. The validation feels really good. The validation from a friend that was completely different than the romantic kind, just all upbeat and jokingly mocking.

“Well I just feel so behind. Like missing all that I’m suppose to know about, now that I’ve met you guys. Or these labels. What they all mean. Like gay..bi.. pan? It’s already too much.”

“No one’s putting that pressure on you though, Aya-chan. It’s all on your own time.”

All on her own time. And she’d just be fine with it, to take it day by day. Mitsuki’s a person who connects worlds, after all. So being with Mitsuki, her world would likely get bigger and bigger. And Aya thinks, she’d find out more about herself through it all, even if in the end all she finds out is that she’s just Mitsuki-sexual, after all, which she says out loud, before her face heats up, and Yumi’s staring at her, while Imani is back at the booth with ice creams and almost collapses in a fit of uncontrollable giggles.

“Damn Aya-chan, it’s annoying, but you are really fucking cute.” Yumi is patting her head, and Aya thinks, if I wasn’t Mitsuki-sexual I might have had a crush on you, Yumi-san, and then she gets it, a little bit more. All of this stuff.

/

Aya invites Mitsuki back into her airbnb at the end of the week. She got them takeout from that place in Greenwich. Imani told her which items were Mitsuki’s favourites. A part of her didn’t know what to expect, how she was going to feel, but when Mitsuki comes all casual, in a hoodie and jeans, it just makes Aya’s heart melt.

When Mitsuki sees the food, she goes, Oh, like so soft and warm and happy, like pure joy.

The mood is really good. If they were young they would have swept all this up under the rug, pretend all the conflict didn’t happen, spent the rest of the night drunk on the goodness of the mood. But the beauty of being adults, being older, is you talked about this stuff. What happened. How to make it better. How to still hold onto each other through the rough patches.

Mitsuki goes, “Yumi-san told me, you guys have been walking Douglas together.” And at the same time Aya says, “I’m sorry, I was jealous.” And they laugh and both say, “You first.”

Aya tells Mitsuki about the walks. Aya tells Mitsuki what she thinks of her friends, especially Yumi-san.

And then Mitsuki goes weirdly silent, in a pouty way, so Aya asks, “What’s wrong?

“Nothing.” Mitsuki is sulky.

“C’mon, that’s not fair.”

“It’s just… are you trying to make me jealous, Aya? Yes I want you to like my friends, but not that much!” And then Mitsuki’s blushing and kind of stressing at the ends of her long, long hair, and it’s so cute, and it makes Aya happy, because she realizes Mitsuki is possessive of her too, in her own way, and that they’re the same.

Adults really are stupid. No, not adults. Just us. Just people in love, stupid all the time, trying to figure out how to be smart about their own stupidity.

And they’re talking, talking, and joking around, cleaning up dishes, listening to music they used to listen to that makes them feel nostalgic and Mitsuki tells her some things, in the middle of the night, cuddling on the bed, but not everything, just a little here and there.

Mitsuki’s worried because Aya’ll go back to Japan soon, but she still wants to be with her, with Aya, even if it’s long-distance and she wants it to be official, to have a label for it, and Aya, if you don’t want that, of course it’s okay, but I just felt like I had to tell you.

Aya says, I thought I was the only one, because she tells Mitsuki this. She’s asked her boss how her boss would feel if she wanted to start something up in New York. Put together a team. And her boss just laughed and said, you’re gonna have a lot of paperwork and overtime in your future, but hey, you’re still young and I’d never say no to people with that kind of initiative.

“Really? You told your boss that? After two weeks?”

“Yeah.” Mitsuki’s behind her, but she pulls on Aya, silently asking her to turn over. Waits until they’re facing each other before saying the next part, so Aya can see how shyly she’s smiling.

“You’re that sure about me, huh.”

“Just at least wanted to try.” 

“And your boss was for it? Like just totally on your side? Wow. Who is this woman. I need to meet her.”

“She’s a powerhouse and you will.”

There’s some silence. And Aya feels Mitsuki hugging her, real tight. “You’re the best, Aya, you know that? You make me realize stuff, like all the time, just by being you.” And Aya doesn’t know what Mitsuki completely means by that, but she’s sure she will, with time.

They’ll get close again, with time. And what they have right now, is another moment in their story, a moment that you’ll want to reminisce about, when you’re very close again, sometime in the future, but right now it’s still the present.

So all you can do, really, is be in that moment.

(END)

Chapter Text

“If I hit you. Is that the type of sex you like the best?”

Mitsuki’s gaping at her, probably she’s embarrassed because Aya said the word ‘sex’, and not even about the contents of the question.

“What? We’re old enough. I’m allowed to say it. We’re about to.”

“Um…”

Aya absentmindedly notes the way Mitsuki’s hands stops unbuttoning her shirt. Those hands dropping to her own lap. Sitting up more formally. Aya absentmindedly wonders what this collection of gestures all means, as she’d never seen it, and if it’s a Mitsuki-before-New-York-or-a-Mitsuki-after-New-York type of tic.

“Um, do you want to hit me?”

“Not at all. Even the thought of it makes me feel sick. But… I’m not,” Judging you for it. That would feel horrible for Mitsuki to hear, she knows that now.

“I just want to understand. Why you did that kinda stuff. Did it really feel good?”

Mitsuki looks around, the movement of the elbow nervous. “Uh,” Aya can’t identify it, the meaning of the movements, even after all the looking, but she wants to ease it anyway.

“You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to, I genuinely mean it.”

“No. I want to tell you.” Mitsuki licks her lips. “It’s more like a control thing. When you feel lost, just to have something… to feel grounded by.” Aya puts her hand on her own mouth, feeling the skin there warm, as if as if Mitsuki’s ghosting it with her mouth. “Different for everyone though.”

“I'm sorry, I don’t get it.”

“It’s fine. I’d honestly hate it if you did.”

“But if I can’t do it, what if it doesn’t feel good enough for you?”

“You doing anything you even remotely don’t want to do wouldn’t feel good for me, like, at all.”

“Okay, that, I get.”

Mitsuki smiles at her, with a type of relief. Not the sorry kind, but the welcoming kind where you’re putting something cool on your hot throat, or vice-versa. Or the throbbing type of relief where you put your tongue on something that aches, which Mitsuki is doing to her right now. It feels so good, that she’s thrusting her hips into Mitsuki’s mouth shallowly.

Mitsuki pulls away, looking up, eyes under lashes. “If that feels good for you Aya, it feels good for me too. If it doesn’t, then it doesn’t, and if I didn’t know and you didn’t tell me, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.”

“It feels really good,” Aya says, putting her hand on the side of Mitsuki’s face, rubbing the edges of her ears, which elicits a muffled noise. “I have to tell you every little thing though? You wouldn’t know?” She smiles, and says teasingly, “I thought you would know more by now? Since you have all this experience.” 

“I don’t have much experience of doing this with you though.” And somehow that makes her shine all over, realizing it’s as new for Mitsuki as it is for her.

“Well I love it. Do it as much as you want. All the time.” Which Mitsuki might take all too seriously, doing it until her jaw aches. But Aya thinks she will know before that happens. What else does Mitsuki want her to know? What else do you want me to see?

Aya asks that last one, which makes Mitsuki go red under her. Which is…interesting. So much so, that Aya feels like she’s having all kinds of knowledge thrust into her just by how Mitsuki looks in that very moment.

“I’m here now.” Aya says, in a very sweet way, and she feels Mitsuki tremble, and that goes right through her. “I’m, looking, at you, now… it’s good, keep going…” She takes deep breaths between words, to feel the feeling. But keeps talking, for Mitsuki. What they can do for each other.

What else do you want me to look at? “I’ll look at everything, all of you, Mitsuki, oh,“ says it again, Mitsuki’s name, when she’s finishing. And Mitsuki’s touching herself, but only her chest, but when she sees Aya looking back she quickly looks away.

“Hey, you want me to look at you but you can’t look at me?”’

“I think if I did I really won’t be able to go on,” but Mitsuki tries, eyes alternating between looking and not looking, and now, she’s biting her lip a lot. “This is really…” laughs a little through the clenching. “…way more nerve-wrecking than any live.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And it um..”

Aya waits. And waits, she puts her hand through Mitsuki’s hair, touching and softly pulling it in an encouraging way. Mitsuki says,

“You don’t need to be rough. The softest touch from you already feels like everything. Like being hit with everything that’s… good.” Whispers the last part. Aya thinks:

You were so alone, weren’t you? For a long time. And always putting on a brave face. I’m sorry I didn’t know.

Aya tells Mitsuki, I want to see you touch yourself like this, and she puts her own hand over Mitsuki’s, guiding it downwards. She takes Mitsuki’s other hand, and puts it on her own chest, right over the heart. “You can touch me like this, it feels good. I’ll always tell you. I won’t leave you guessing, I promise.”

And Mitsuki kinda looks like she’s crying, but there’s no tears. Like just the good part of crying, where it’s just the sensations, nothing bad behind the sensations. Aya says,

“Don’t go off on your own. I’m here.”

Mitsuki’s fingers are closing in on herself and Aya and she’s opening and shutting her eyes so softly, trying to take in as much of Aya as she can without going over the edge. But then Aya says, I won’t let you and then she can’t stop, she completely pours over and when she does, Aya says, and will say again, as many times as she needs to hear it, “I won’t let you be alone anymore, Mitsuki.”

Chapter Text

The harness arrives. Unwrapped in its box with cloud white tissue paper, it’s super adorable, pink with heart chrome buckles. Aya tries it on in the mirror, over a skirt and with a t-shirt, and it actually looks like a badass accessory. But.. well.. she’s not going to be wearing this outside.

You have to buy…. the… other thing separately and she wants to thrash on her bed, feeling like she’ll turn into dust from the embarrassment, which when she moves the box over, Aya does indulge in a couple of times, before she gives up on the tantrum, rolls over and texts Yumi-san. Burritoed, under the covers but at least her heart’s determined.

Pls can u help me T_T

Yumi-san texts back, Wow, bold. Aya-chan.

Pls don’t make fun of me, I’m struggling n rdy 2 die already!!!!!!!!

Yumi-san shows her a site where everything’s all silicon, vegan, women-owned brands, where the shades of pink are like make-up swatches. Aya ends up picking this baby pink one, which matches the harness, and it’s not that big, like 4 inches. Like that’s an okay size right? She texts it as a link and Yumi says, Should be pretty safe for a beginner, and Aya-chan, aren’t the colours so cute and now they’re talking about matching her nails and styling her hair to it, also which perfume goes as a concept? As if it’s an outfit, or an aesthetic, which makes Aya feel better and more in control of her realm.

So this, basically, is because Aya wants to do something new for Mitsuki, but she’s feeling unsure. Worried. Incredibly anxious.

This is the third month, where she’s properly living and working in New York. After a couple of months back in Japan, sorting out a flurry of phone calls, meetings, paperwork, tearful send-off parties with her team, and so many hugs, Aya’s got her own place in Brooklyn now, an one-bedroom. Mitsuki actually wanted to get her some place, but she firmly told Mitsuki, that’s not what she wants right now, and she’s drawing a boundary on that. She wants her independence for a while, until they’re ready to move in together again.

New York is still so new, her role at her job is still so new, her team, despite being personally scouted out by her, are still so new, and she’s not ready to make big moves until those stabilize for her. Mitsuki said she understood, but that she’d at least like to connect Aya to some people she knows, because Streeteasy is just brutal and she’d worry to death if Aya got scammed.

Aya knew, by now, how Mitsuki felt about the whole housing thing, so she relented, and said of course. Then someone who knows Mitsuki put her in touch with an elderly Polish woman who owned a couple of units in a renovated loft in the Greenpoint neighbourhood, who gave Aya a steep discount on rent in exchange for many bouts of cat-sitting. Also, this sweet sweet grandmother also basically treated Aya like her own granddaughter, they got along very well and baked treats for each other and went to the Japanese stationary store nearby to look at fountain pens all the time. Mitsuki had said, I really envy your way with people, with that lopsided fond smile of hers, the one that makes Aya warm all over.

Mitsuki visits a lot after the studio, or just in general, because she really admires how Aya set up her place, all the girly touches, textiles and plants softening industrial pieces. They never go to Mitsuki’s on the Upper West Side. Mitsuki says she wants to get rid of the place anyways, but keeps it for Douglas to rest sometimes after Central Park. At Aya’s apartment, they kiss a bunch all the time and sometimes do some other things, but Mitsuki doesn’t really want Aya to do much, it feels like.

Mitsuki acts really protective and worries. But recently in addition to oral she has been putting her fingers in Aya and it feels so, so, so good, like a different type of good, although she can never get off on just the fingers alone. She still loves it, and always wants it now, the skill of a guitarist's fingers. Aya wants to put her fingers in Mitsuki too, to give back that feeling, but well, obviously she has no experience in that at all, and she heard it can suck if you don’t know what you’re doing. Not to mention she’s got those long nails of hers too, which she gets done every month and loves (which Mitsuki also seems to love when she digs them into her back, but Mitsuki will never admit that), and Aya’s not trying to put a dagger into someone she loves. So, hmm.

She gets the vision, while working with the brand Zana Bayne for her company, which is all harness, black, studded, severe. They were not her style exactly, and it was a fashion thing, but.. the ideas it inspires. Aya knows how to use the internet, pretty well if I might add, she can surely find something up her alley.

So now she’s at her apartment, Mitsuki’s going to come over soon, they’re going to have dinner. They’re going to hang out. She’s going to wait, until it’s dark outside, after they’ve already taken a bath together. When she smells nicely of Aesop rosemary and citrus. She puts on a baby yellow t-shirt and matching gingham shorts instead of PJs, so Mitsuki thinks they’re going to hang out some more, maybe listen to music, maybe watch a movie, but Aya draws near and holds both of Mitsuki’s hands, lifting them up a little.

“I want to show you something. Don’t freak out okay? I just wanted to show you.” She’s babbling, she knows that. She goes to her closet and takes out the harness, which she had repacked back into the box with…what’s going to go on the harness.

Mitsuki opens it slowly. Eyes growing wider and wider.

“Would you be interested? I mean, totally no pressure, seriously. Because even if you aren’t, I’m not upset or anything, just because. I wasn’t sure. You know.” God. What is she saying. She’s being so embarrassing.

Mitsuki gets up, goes to get a glass of water.

Gets her one too. “Aya…”

She’s drinking the water. Slowly.

She drinks water like this, before, before they…

Mitsuki swallows. “Can we do it now?”

Now?

“But I.. I don’t know how yet. I didn’t… I mean.. I don’t want to hurt you.” Aya’s mind is kind of blanking out.

Mitsuki’s eyes has lowered, and they look like they’re smouldering pits of lava. She licks her lips.

“It’s okay. Um. If you.. uh.. if you put it on. I’ll. I’ll do it myself.”

She’s. Doing it?

Herself.

Now Aya’s drinking water too. And Aya can’t take off her clothes fast enough.

The curtains are mostly drawn, save a little rectangle of moonlight near the end, near the radiator. The bedroom light is low. Mitsuki’s on top of her, in her lap, and Aya’s pressed up against the headboard, supported by some pillows. Mitsuki’s moving pretty slowly, lifting herself up and down on it, and Aya can’t help but look at where they’re joined, a length of soft pink appearing and disappearing, becoming wet and sticky-clear.

There’s all these sounds too, echoing so loud in the room and inside of her head, even though Aya’s staying very, very still, which she thinks is making Mitsuki a bit desperate. She wants to do something to help, but she’s also worried she might move wrong and hurt Mitsuki, and also Mitsuki’s desperate-looking face is actually kind of making something inside of her turn over in response.

They go like that for who knows how long, Mitsuki moving the same slow and steady rhythm the whole time, face trying to be carefully controlled. But oh she’s going to worry her lips to death, Aya thinks, and so she leans over to kiss Mitsuki, hoping to soothe, shifting around a bit. Mitsuki is making a startled noise at the change in angle, but it’s disappearing into Aya’s mouth.

Moans in-between their mouths, half-lost, not sure whose. All the sensations inside and around their kiss so very soft, that Aya wants to stay like that forever, connected in all these places forever, wants even more, she still has her hands after all — but all of a sudden Mitsuki’s taking her mouth away—

Wait—

and Aya feels a sharp spike of pain burst in her left shoulder. Mitsuki bit her while coming, she realizes. And now Mitsuki is licking, lapping at, where she bit her as if she doesn’t even realize it.

Like a goddamn animal and—

“Ow! What—“ Aya stops. Mitsuki’s stiffening now. Pulling away.

She’s gonna freak out. Aya realizes. Retreat into herself, blame herself, before I even have a chance to react properly, to tell her I’m not angry, it was just a lot in the moment, but I’m not angry, and Can’t you at least give me a chance to tell you I’m not angry first before you go about doing all that?! A shot of desperation, surging wild through her veins—

“Wait—“

Don’t go— Hands holding onto Mitsuki’s shoulders, Aya slams her back down, and she feels Mitsuki freeze and shit she forgot she’s still wearing… and how could she mess up so bad and—

But Mitsuki’s saying “Aya, fuck, I’m—“ and Mitsuki’s clenching, clenching, going over again and as she’s letting go, Mitsuki’s saying, and there’s some tears on her face, but it’s over a smile, “I love you Aya. Love you. Love you. Love you so much.” Then finally she’s not saying much at all and just hugging her so tightly with both arms, Aya thinks, oh,

I got through to her.

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