Title: Because I Know You Like Me Back
Pairings: Yuutaru, AoJun
Words: 7931
A/N: boy is this chapter a whopper. originally it was going to be two chapters, but i decided to combine them because reasons. also i meant to post this yesterday but it got to like, 7am, and i got so tired i couldn't finish the last 2k words. oops. anyways! enjoy the conclusion to my little fic series for birbyonce's muse babies au.
c:

You're walking to Junko's house a little past midday when you decide to send Hotaru your third text of the day. It's windy, and a little chilly out, so you've layered a rose pink scarf on top of your knit – she was the one who gave it to you, two birthdays ago. You don't really need it in all honesty, because it's not that cold, but it reminds you of a time where you weren't scared of losing your long-time crush and best friend.

Junko's promised you that the twins and their parents will be there, and the thought of seeing them again distracts you, a little. Nico is often out of town on tours, or travelling for photoshoots and meet and greets, so you probably know her the least out of all the Muse mothers. You've heard ample stories from your parents, though, and she's been charismatic enough the times you have seen her to stick in your mind. You think perhaps that's why she's such a successful idol.

You ponder, briefly, if your parents and the rest of Muse could have made it big, like Nico did, had they stayed together. Your life would be different, surely – maybe you wouldn't see your parents as much. They'd be like Nico, always away on photoshoots and tours and whatnot. You'd be wealthier, probably. You don't know the details, but you do know that Nico send a significant portion of the money she earns to her mother and siblings. Considering how wealthy their family is, you think that might be quite a lot of money. Maybe you'd have been raised by nannies, then – Kotori-mama would always be busy sewing costumes, and Umi-mama would be busy writing lyrics for their next hit. It'd be hard for them, having to take several months off for your mother's pregnancy.

Then, you think, you might not have been born at all. Your mothers might have had to sacrifice any desires for parenthood as contracts dictated that they simply couldn't take that much time off. Being an idol wasn't just a career – it was a lifestyle.

You suddenly felt a surge of respect for Nico, for managing her life as she did. She always seemed to be able to make it for the twin's most important moments, no matter what. You think Nico might be a very, very good parents. Not that your mothers have been any worse – no, your parents are everything you could ever ask for, if a little quirky, and even then, they were a part of Muse. It's to be expected, you think.

Still, you think you're very glad your parents didn't decide to keep being idols.

By the time you get to Junko's house it's 1pm, and Hotaru still hasn't messaged you back. You're not expecting anything by this point, but it doesn't stop the hurt in your chest.

"Ah, Yuu-chin!" you hear as you announce your arrival at the front door, and a familiar mop of orange leans around the corner to greet you. "Come in, come in!"

You follow her up the stairs into their kitchen – it's open plan, linked to their dining room and balcony – and find Hanayo, calmly manoeuvring about the kitchen as she presumably prepared dishes for dinner.

"Yuuki-chan? It's lovely to see you," she says, adjusting settings on the rice cooker.

"It's nice to see you too, Hanayo-san, Rin-san" you say, and the smiles they give you are so warm you can't help but return them. There's something to be said about the two of them – Rin is free-spirited and candid, energetic and full of life. Hanayo, on the other hand, is calm, nurturing, and perhaps a little shy – the quietest of all the adults you know. Both of them, though, are genuine and kind. You don't think you've ever seen either of them lie – not that they would have anything to lie about, you think. You wonder how they produced Junko – sure, she has Hanayo's soft eyes and Rin's wild hair, but she's not particularly energetic or shy, nor is she candid or exactly nurturing. She's almost mysterious, but intense – she says she gets that side of her form Hanayo, but you don't believe it. Hanayo is so sweet that you could hardly believe her to be overly excited about anything. You understand where Junko got her calmness, though. That at least is clear enough.

As you finish with greeting the two of them, Junko pops her head from down the stairs and gestures you to follow. Her parents wave at you as the two of your disappear down the stairs. The bedrooms in their household are on the lower floor, so you presume that's where Junko is taking you – and sure enough, she leads you right there. It's messy, clothes tossed aside on the floor and her bed unmade, but for whatever reason that makes you feel a little more at home.

"Welcome to my room," Junko says, and it's a simple statement, but you feel like you've been invited to a little more than that. Bedrooms, you think, speak volumes about one's character. Yours is neat and tidy to a fault – Umi-mama instilled that habit in you early on – which you suppose reflects on your personality. The mess in Junko's, you're sure, says something about her, but you're not exactly sure what.

"Here," she says, and you realise you've spaced out for a few moments as she deposits something small and warm and white and orange into your cupped hands. "This is Hamtaro."

So, you think, this is the hamster she's told you about. Hamtaro wiggles his nose at you, before itching at his ear. It's endearing, you think, and creature seems to smile back at you as you kiss it's forehead.

"He's adorable," you say, and Junko grins.

"If you stroke him like this," she says, running a finger over the hamster's tiny head and down its spine, "he'll be your best friend."

Sure enough, Hamtaro rolls over and exposes his soft belly, and you gently tickle it with the tip of your index finger. He wriggles at your touch, and you swear to yourself that the hamster is laughing.

"But," Junko starts, smiling at you, "you didn't ask to come over to play with Hamtaro."

You shake your head, because you didn't even, even if the rodent is much, much cuter than you expected.

"It's okay Hamtaro," she says, frowning and cooing the creature back into her hands. He runs up her shoulder, resting there. "I still love you."

You're not sure whether or not to feel offended that Junko doubts your love for Hamtaro.

"Sorry," she says, chuckling softly, "just kidding. You wanted to talk about Hotaru, didn't you?"

Junko's voice is a miracle in itself – soft and gentle and enveloping, like the warm blankets Kotori-mama brings out when the three of you huddle by the fire for a family movie in the middle of winter. It's different to how soothing Aoi is – Aoi is reassuring, authoritative, as if you feel protected under her care. Junko's, you think, makes you feel cared for, as if nothing else but you matters to her in the moment.

You swallow, and think you realise why Aoi likes her so much.

"Mm," you reply, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. "About yesterday, really. Is –" You stutter. How unlike yourself. "Is she okay?"

Junko hums, gazing lazily at the creature as it runs under her clothes. You try not to think about that too much.

"Okay? Well, yesterday she was very upset. You said that it was a misunderstanding, though, didn't you?"

You nod. A misunderstanding is a good way to put it – even if you were the person who gave off all the wrong signals and it's all your fault Hotaru cried. You bite your lip at the thought of her crying again, and guilt simmers in your stomach.

"I froze up when she told me she liked me," you say, avoiding eye contact. It's hard enough to be honest with Junko. You don't need to make it harder for yourself. "It was like I couldn't move or speak and – to her, that meant rejection."

Junko frowned, raising an eyebrow.

"And you've texted her, to no response?" she asks, and Hamtaro reappears out of the waistband of Junko's shorts.

"She responded once," you say. "She told me I was cruel for joking like that."

You've read that text a thousand times since last night, and each time you run over the words in your mind it hurts a little more. That only makes you think about it harder.

"I see," Junko says, softening her words even more and closing her eyes, as if in thought. Hamtaro runs up and down her shoulders as she leans back, opening her eyes again. "So, what would you like my advice on?"

Everything, you want to say, but that's not an exactly an answer Junko can help you with, and you know you need to work with her here, so you try and narrow it down into pieces.

"How can I convince her that I like her back?" you ask, feeling like that probably sums up the start.

Junko bites her lip and frowns, kissing the hamster as it runs up to her shoulders and nuzzles against her cheek. He decides to rest there, in the crook of her neck and collarbone.

"Time, probably," she says, and your heart sinks. You'd wanted to sort this out as soon as possible, because the thought of Hotaru being upset because of you makes you feel worse and worse with each passing moment, and already you want to bury yourself in your bed and never emerge. "You need to make sure you stay friends, first of all. Make things as normal as you can, with student council work and talking at school. Of course, that's up to Hotaru as well as up to you. I'm sure Aoi told her something along the same lines, though."

You nod, because she makes sense, even if it isn't the kind of truth you want to hear. You so desperately want a quick fix, an easy solution – but if there's nothing you can do then…time is your only option.

"Eventually, you'll get back to normal, and maybe then you can bring it up properly," Junko continues, and your heart sinks at the mention of eventually. "You have to be forceful, though, when you do finally decide to explain the truth. Hotaru-chan's stubborn, so you have to corner her somewhere where she can't escape."

"And you're sure there's nothing else I could do to convince her?" you ask – you know this is the best way, probably, but you can't help but hope.

"Well," Junko says, sitting up and offering you a half-smile. Hamtaro squeaks at the sudden movement, and she strokes him to calm him down. "You could kiss her. She'd probably believe you then."

You're pretty sure your face turns a little pink at her comment, because Junko giggles, and you instinctively hunch your shoulders.

K-kiss her? Impossible.

"You know there's no way I could do that," you say, trying to keep the hot, hot embarrassment out of your voice. Junko just appears amused at your efforts. "Absolutely no way."

"Mm," she says, tilting her head and letting the half-smile widen a little more as she gazes at you – how embarrassing – "But that's why it'd convince her. You'd have to really mean it to actually go out and kiss her."

You scowl, turning away from her, only to feel tiny claws prickle your shoulder as she places Hamtaro on you. He rubs against your cheek. It's adorable.

"That's impossible. I – I couldn't."

"Your loss," Junko breathes, and tilts her head as the door opens. "That must be the twins."

You nod, and try to breathe the pink away from your face. You'll wait, you think. Probably.

It doesn't stop your mind from wandering to how kissing Hotaru would feel, though. You attempt to perish the thought. It doesn't work.

Nico and Maki are a couple you'd never have expected to see together, but when you see them standing side by side, Maki's hand loosely pulling Nico's waist closer to yours, it sort of makes sense, a little. Nico's grown her hair out since her Muse days – she's kept the twin tails, but they're waist-length now, and somehow that makes her look a little elegant.

The twins seem like the natural product of the two, you think. Somehow, it just works. That's something you think a lot about their family.

They certainly make Junko's room feel a lot smaller, however, and you didn't think it was particularly small to begin with – maybe it's the fact that the headcount inside has doubled, but you think it's more their massive presence. The two manage to occupy more space than their tiny bodies alone. Junko doesn't seem bothered, though, because the two are enthralled with Hamtaro.

"Junko-senpai, he's so cute!" Makoto says as she lets him run up her shirt. You recoil in disgust. He's cute enough to pet and hold, sure, but having him run through your clothes? Gross.

Instead of worrying about the hygienic issues of hamsters, though, you let your thoughts wander about your situation. It could make an amusing story to tell, you think, when – if you finally get together.

Listening to the story of your parents getting together was adorable – Umi-mama took three months to work up the courage to confess, and even though Kotori-mama knew how Umi-mama felt, she still waited until she was ready, so as not to rush her. Umi-mama had always liked to take such things at her own pace, so your other mother so no need to rush her. Eventually, she'd asked her at practise one day, when they were the last two to leave. Kotori-mama had said yes, and slowly but surely, the two of them began to date and act as lovers. It was a slow, gentle, love story, but you found it endearing

"Hey, Junko-chan," you say, interrupting the hamster cooing. "How did your parents get together?"

"Ohh, tell us!" Kamiko says, blowing on the hamster's ears. Hamtaro chirrups at the sensation.

Junko raises an eyebrow, leaning back on her hands.

"It wasn't anything like a confession," she says, "they started out as best friends, and one day they kissed, without ever talking about it. They don't have an anniversary, because they never really started dating. It just sort of happened over time."

You could see that, you think – Rin and Hanayo had always been close, and you've heard enough of their antics from your parents.

"What about your parents, Kamiko-chan, Mako-chan?" you ask, turning your head. The twins look at each other and grin. It takes you a certain degree of self-control not to show your fearful anticipation.

"It all began with a turbulent friendship," Makoto begins, crossing her arms and closing her eyes. "They were always fighting with each other, but they liked each other, really!"

"Eventually, their fighting became more like bickering, and then more like worrisome nagging," Kamiko continues, "they grew closer and closer, and then – "

"On live TV, Nico-mama told Maki-mama she loved her!" the two say, together, as if rehearsed. Then again, knowing the twins, they probably had rehearsed.

"Maki-mama got really embarrassed, and ran off-stage," Makoto says.

"They got together in the end," Kamiko says. "They just took a little longer."

You blink.

"A…live confession?"

Makoto grins, and holds up a USB.

"How about we just show you?"

Junko nods, and there's a smirk on her face that you can't quite figure out. She hands over her laptop to the twins, and Makoto loads up a video.

Maki and Nico are standing next to each other, as an announcer congratulates them on another performance – probably Zurui Yo Magnetic Today, you think, if it's just the two of them. Before the curtains close, however, Nico asks for the microphone.

"Before we end today, there's something I'd like to say," she says, grinning. Maki raises an eyebrow, but says nothing.

"Maki-chan," Nico says, and Maki's attention snaps immediately to Nico, any pretence of indifference tossed aside. "You're the best friend I've ever had. You challenge me in places nobody else does, and you've shown me kindness in ways I've never before known. That's why there's something I wanted to tell you today."

Maki's face is going red, you think, and you can tell even under all the make-up she's wearing. She knows what's coming, but she doesn't say anything.

"Maki-chan, I love you more than anyone I've ever met."

The video ends as you see Maki dart off-stage, red-faced.

You feel sorry for her, a little. You know she's somewhat of a private person, so of course a public confession was never going to turn out well.

"And that's how it happened!" the twins say together, again. You decide not to debate the logistics of how they kept matching each other word-for-word.

Still, you think – that's about as messed up of a confession as you can get. You stand up, immediately.

"I'm just going to ask the adults something quickly, okay? I'll be right back," you say, and leave the room before anyone can protest.

Up the stairs, the adults are chatting and laughing, wine glasses clinking together as they stand huddled in a circle near the kitchen counter.

"Oh? Yuuki-chan?" Maki says, turning around. "Did you need something?"

The four of them look upon you with a smile each but – suddenly their gazes are intimidating. You dislike asking personal questions when you don't know people all that well, but you've got to ask anyone who might to be able to help you.

"Ah, Maki-san, Nico-san, could I ask you two a question?" you say, and the two of them put down the glasses in their hands.

"Of course," Nico says. You feel like her smile has seen a thousand people do the same. You're probably massively underestimating that figure, you think.

"Then, about your confession, live, when you were younger – " you say, and watch as the two of them exchange a look of despair. " – should I stop?"

"No, no," Maki says, shaking her head and rubbing her temples. "The twins showed you that damn USB, didn't they?"

You can only nod, and the two of them groan. Behind them, Rin and Hanayo chuckle.

"It's just like you two to have such mischievous children," Hanayo says, touching Maki's shoulder gently.

"Isn't a lively household more fun, though?" Rin asks, leaning against Nico. If she minds it, she doesn't offer any signs. Instead, Nico frowns presumably at the thought of the twin's antics.

"Maybe if you're not the one cleaning up," Nico says, and Junko's parents laugh again. Maki rolls her eyes, and turns to you again. You feel like you're witnessing something you shouldn't.

"It's fine, Yuuki-chan," she says, offering you a pained smile. "What did you want to know?"

"Well," you say, and you have to think carefully about to word it, "How did you two get together after you ran offstage, Maki-san?"

"I told her how much I Nico-Nico-Needed her in my life, and – " Maki elbows Nico's side rather aggressively, and rolls her eyes again.

"She sent me flowers, and we talked a lot. I was stubborn, I'll admit, though."

"I had to really try to get to her to listen to me," Nico says, a little more serious now, "Stubborn doesn't even begin to describe it."

"Oh, and you're not stubborn?" Maki says, but there's a grin on her lips and all of a sudden the interactions between the two of them start to make a lot of sense.

"Of course not! Nico-Nii is perfect!"

You chuckle and smile as you thank them for answering you, and head back downstairs. From what they said – trying, trying, trying seemed to be the only thing that worked.

If nothing else, you had to keep trying. You open your phone, and send her another text. Eventually, eventually, she'll reply, you think. You just have to keep on trying.

She doesn't reply. When Monday comes, you're done and dusted, you tell yourself, you're not to worry about her anymore, but as soon as you see her in class you can't adhere to that. She doesn't greet you that morning, and she doesn't greet anyone else with any of her usual cheer. Instead, she comes in quietly, sits down quietly, and opens her books quietly. She looks sadder than you've ever seen her.

You can't get rid of the feeling inside your stomach that this is your fault.

She refuses to make eye-contact with you until third period, where for a single second your eyes meet – but there's no teasing glint in them anymore. Instead she looks back to her books as quickly as possible, whilst you're left looking for more.

At lunch, she moves away from you, and surrounds herself with the fangirls you're normally there to drive away. No, this time you're the one being driven away.

You decide to eat your lunch in the council-room. No-one comes by, anyway, so it's peaceful at least. You pretend to yourself that you don't feel lonely.

She doesn't talk to you all day, either. Nothing but a small "sorry" when you deliberately knock arms with her on your way past. As you get changed for club, you begin to dread your council work after.

You can't hit a single arrow on the mark. Your accuracy is normally impeccable, and your clubmates begin to worry. You're sure your mother would be disappointed in you. No matter how hard you try, though, you can't stop thinking of her, and you can't focus on the way you're drawing the bowstring.

You're not sure whether or not it's a blessing when club ends – on one hand, you can stop embarrassing yourself in front of your juniors, but on the other hand, you have to face her, and there's no way you can avoid it.

You deliberately take your time as you shower and get changed back into your uniform, and you're sure you take the scenic route back to the council room. For whatever reason, you feel a little more comfortable with the idea of letting her arrive first.

What you do not expect is Aoi also being there.

Nor do you expect to see Hotaru's shirt completely unbuttoned, her hair down and messy against the wall, hands sliding under Aoi's shirt. Nor do you expect to see the saliva trail between their lips.

When they see you, they panic, and pull themselves off each other – and is that reluctance you see in the way they move?

"Uh, here's your hairtie, Hotaru-chan," Aoi says, adjusting her shirt and darting past you. She's gone before you can say a word. Hotaru does up the buttons on her shirt as if she's ashamed to be caught.

You feel betrayed. Aoi is your best friend, and you told her so many times how you felt about Hotaru and then –

No, of course. You don't have a claim any more. You 'rejected' her. Aoi must think you don't care anymore.

You're such an idiot.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" you say, and you don't mean to lash out, so you have to quickly adjust yourself. "If you're going to do that sort of thing, keep it out of the councilroom."

Hotaru just looks at you with dead eyes.

"Sorry," she says, and nothing more.

You don't speak as you pass papers between each other. Instead, you fume over how she – already – moved on. And with Aoi? You can't believe it. Aoi's your best friend, she's in love with Junko…right?

Right?

Your stomach starts to ache as you think about it – what if they both moved on, without you? What if they've started dating? It's none of your business, you try to tell yourself, but it just can't be true. They can't date – Aoi's your best friend. She would have told you, right? And Hotaru – ?

You don't think you have any right to assume how Hotaru might act right now.

She doesn't say goodbye when the two of you leave the councilroom, and you can't bring yourself to say it either. You walk in opposite directions to the shoe bay, and you figure she's going to wait for you to go before she heads home. You leave first.

It's lonely walking home by yourself.

When you see Aoi the next day, she demonstrates an impressive ability to provide very little in the vein of answers.

"Aoi, what the hell was that, yesterday?" you say, unsure how to feel.

"Uh," she says, scratching her head. "Nothing really. Just a platonic thing – we both kind of felt like it, because Hotaru was feeling sort of crappy after what happened on Friday, and I'm kind of bummed about the Junko situation. Did she say anything to you at council?"

You shake your head, and say, "Not a word. I got two 'sorry's, and that was it all day."

"Ah," Aoi says, stretching out her arms, "I'm sure things will improve. It won't be like this forever."

She's right, after all. That same day, Hotaru greets you with a cautious 'hey' as you enter the classroom. It feels only right to respond in kind as you take your seat. Just like Junko said, you think. Time will fix things.

You don't think you have the patience for time when you walk into the councilroom, and catch Aoi and Junko in a state of undress in the councilroom later that day. There's a hickey on Aoi's collarbone that you definitely didn't want to see, and Hotaru's in the process of making another when you rip them apart.

You're not allowed to be angry at them, you tell yourself. They have every right to do what they're doing. Just not in the councilroom, you tell yourself. That's the reason you're cross with them, and that's the reason you act snippy whenever you see either of them. You're not angry, you're just –

You're so, so jealous, and you hate it.

It hurts.

Aoi becomes evasive whenever you bring up the topic again, and eventually you decide to stop bringing it up at all. You can't look her in the face, not when all you can think of is what it might have felt like to have Hotaru's lips on hers. She probably notices your jealousy, you think. Aoi's been your best friend since you were a toddler – she knows more about you than anyone else in the world.

Your thoughts are confirmed when she confronts you about it.

"We're not dating," she says to you on the way home that day. "you know that, right?"

You nod, biting your lip. Aoi said as much earlier, so of course you'd believe her – probably. Maybe. It'd be easier to believe if you couldn't see the hickey on her neck.

"I know," you say, and you hate the way your voice scratches as you speak. You're not jealous, you remind yourself. You're not angry. You're just fine.

Aoi doesn't believe you either, from the look in her eyes. It's not exactly pity, nor exactly empathy, but it's somewhere in between the two. She stares at you for a moment, tracing your expression. You're pretty sure whatever poker face you're trying to pull isn't working.

"I'll stop if you want me to," she says, turning her stare to the ground in front of her. You shake your head immediately, instinctively, because no, no, that's not what you meant at all – right?

"No, of course not," you say, and you're sure she knows you're lying through your teeth. "I don't mind at all."

Aoi doesn't look at you like a liar – she just holds that same expression, and you think it might be easier if she'd just call you out on your bullshit.

By the time it gets to Wednesday, when you finally bother to look at her face, it's not sadness, but apathy in Hotaru's eyes. You're not sure which is worse.

You're sure she catches the way you look at the two of them whenever you see them liplocked around school, but you have no idea what she's thinking. You can't read her anymore.

It seems like you're magnetised towards them, because you find them no matter where you go. No matter what you say, they never listen about making out in the council room. It's as if Hotaru is trying to make you jealous. Perhaps she is, you think.

It's working far, far too well.

You want to be where Aoi is, sitting on the receiving end of those lips so, so, so badly. You've pined on your own for so long, so why, when your wildest dreams finally come to fruition can't you be honest about how you feel?

You start to wonder if Hotaru knows you're jealous. The way she looks at you when you walk in on them changes from embarrassment to something unreadable. The surprise in her eyes could be something else entirely. Maybe you're overthinking it. You probably are. Even, still.

On the Friday when you get home, you're about done with it.

Junko was wrong.

Time hasn't done anything for you, you think. All waiting has done is make you hurt more as you think again and again of Aoi on those lips that should belong to you, and –

Why can't she see how much she's hurting you? Why can't she see how every kiss makes you want to rip open your chest and bare your beating heart? Why can't she tell how much you ruminate over every time you see them together? Why does she look at you like she's unimpressed every time you catch them?

…does she want to hurt you the same way you hurt her?

If she does, you think, then she's doing a fantastic job.

You bring a hand to your eye – when did you start crying? This wasn't part of the plan but –

You heave out a sob, because it's so, so unfair what she's doing to you – except didn't you just do the exact thing to her? Wouldn't that make it just and fair? But it hurts so, so much, you have to gasp out in pain. You didn't want to upset her, you never, ever wanted to hurt her, not once and now –

She hates you, doesn't she? That'd explain it. She hates you now, and that's why she's trying to hurt you as much as possible. She's picking spaces she knows you'll find them in. She wants to scratch out your heart with her fingernails and squeeze it dry of all the love it ever felt for her, to punish you for hurting her the way you did.

You open your box of precious things, and take out the photo inside.

Fine, you think.

You tear the photo in two.

You cry over how the two pieces will never fit back together like how they used to.

Over the weekend, you talk to Junko on the phone.

"It's not working," you say, your voice bitter. Bitter is a good way to describe yourself, you think. It reminds you of the scalding green tea your mother makes. You think the comparison is somewhat apt.

"Yuuki-chan," she says, and her voice is all marshmallows and hot chocolate with three spoons of sugar – too sweet. She sounds almost sarcastic, but you've never heard Junko, of all people, employ sarcasm. "Time doesn't mean a few days. It means weeks, months."

It's not fast enough.

"There has to be something I can do, Junko-chan," you say, and you don't even bother to hide the desperation in your voice this time. "I can't deal with them anymore. They're everywhere."

You can hear her exhale at the mention of Aoi and Hotaru together. You wonder how she feels about it, but you don't think you have it in you to ask right now.

"You could try cornering her and forcing her to listen," she says, although the tone of her voice is wavering. She doesn't believe it'll achieve anything. You don't care. You have to do something, you can't just keep sitting around, hoping for Hotaru to come to her senses.

"Okay," you breathe. "On Monday, in the councilroom. I'll tell her, properly."

"….good luck," she says, and you know she means it. You'll need all the luck you can get, probably. Her doubt doesn't sway you, though. You've had enough.

You're back to small-talk on Monday morning. Hotaru, at least, seems a little bit glad to see you, even if it's fleeting in her eyes as she looks away. She looks like she's done something wrong. She hasn't, you remind yourself. It takes all of your concentration and resolve to force a smile.

Your classes are less grating than the week before, just slightly. The fact that Hotaru isn't looking at you like you crushed her helps. You still feel a stab of guilt in your stomach whenever you think about it. You'll make it right today, you assure yourself. You have to.

At club, every single one of your arrows hits the bullseye, and your captain praises you on your concentration. There's determination in your eyes, she says, but all you feel is a fire in your belly. You suppose that's a good thing. It feels nice to be outed by your captain, a little. Your mother would be proud, you think, and that in itself in something to be proud of.

They're there in the councilroom, again, when you open the door.

"Woah, Hotaru-chan, where did you learn that?" comes Aoi's breathless voice. You stand there in the doorway, waiting for them to notice, but they're so wrapped up in their own little world that you think they won't.

You watch as Hotaru smirks, of all things, before replying, "I just wanted to try something."

Her voice is laced with nervousness, and you can see it in the way she pulls Aoi closer to her as she leans in again and –

You don't need to see this.

You clear your throat, and the two of them jump ten feet in the air. Aoi waves at you and hurries outside, her face painted scarlet. Hotaru wipes saliva from her lips and stares at you as if she's expecting something.

It's time, you think. So you begin.

"Hotaru-chan, can I speak honestly with you?" you start, and you hate how your voice isn't quite as authoritative as you'd like it to be. You're still meek in all the wrong places, but you can't let yourself back down now. You don't think you could forgive yourself if you did.

"If it's about Aoi-chan," Hotaru says, avoiding eye contact as she takes a seat in her usual spot. You stand at the desk, opposite her, watching. "I don't want to hear it. Pretending like you care doesn't make me feel any better, you know."

She frowns, and looks to the ground. You've never heard her be so dismissive of you before – you've never heard her act like she cares so little for you before. She's acting like the two of you aren't even friends, like you mean nothing to each other. She's effectively throwing away all the memories the two of you've shared together – just like you did when you ripped up that photograph. You hate yourself for that, just a little.

You don't hate Hotaru. You just get mad.

"I'm not pretending at all!" you say, your voice suddenly a lot louder as you slam your palms on the desk between you. "I care a lot, Hotaru-chan. I told you so many times, I like you back. I really do."

The words slip out so easily, but all you can do is grit your teeth at the blank expression on Hotaru's face. You want her to listen to you so, so bad, but –

"Can you stop this?" she says, snarling, and for the first time you see genuine anger in her eyes. "I told you, it's not funny. Stop making how I feel into some joke you can laugh at."

You want to scream, because she's so dense, she just doesn't get it, and you wish, you wish that you could just get through to her, so she knows, so she understands how you feel.

"I'm not lying to you!" and your voice is practically screaming now as you learn further over the desk, towering over Hotaru as if you could maybe, just maybe scare enough sense into her to make her listen to you just this once. "I'm being serious! Hotaru-chan, I like you!"

You're leaning even further forwards over her, and the word keep spilling out of your mouth.

"I don't get why you keep doubting me!" you say, scowling, "Why the hell would I lie to you, one of my best friends, about something like this? I told you, I froze up. I was so shocked and so happy that I couldn't respond, and you're the one who took it as rejection!"

Your face is so close to hers, and you think that maybe if you yell at her face long enough, something will get through.

"You don't think that finding out the girl I've been crushing on for almost two years now feels the same way about me would make me happy? Would shock me? Do you really think I'd say no? Can you really, honestly, say that?"

You feel her breath on your face.

"I texted you so many times, but you refused to text back! Why can't you just get it through your thick skull, that I, Yuuki Minami, like you, Hotaru Aya – "

You feel your lips brush against something soft and warm. It takes you a moment to register that the soft and warm belongs to Hotaru.

You kissed her.

Immediately, you spring back, because oh no, oh no no no you can't have just done that – you're not even dating, how inappropriate, how are you going to face your parents after this? What if Hotaru didn't like it, what if she's already moved on from you? What if you're an awful kisser, what if –

The look on her face stops you right in your tracks. She's shocked, just like you, and there's a strip of red spreading right across her cheeks.

"Do," you stutter – how uncharacteristic of you, "do you believe me now?"

The hotness in your cheeks is warm enough to burn, and you think you might melt in embarrassment, but your heart bursts in flames when you catch her nodding.

Neither of the two of you say anything after that. Eventually, you move on with your councilwork, in dead, awful, awkward silence. You still can't bring yourself to say anything when the two of you finish for the day.

The walk is equally awkward, and equally void of chatter. You don't think you've ever seen Hotaru this quiet. Every now and then, you steal a glance, and let your face bloom a brilliant scarlet when your eyes inevitably meet. You don't want to admit you're looking at her. It's just so embarrassing.

You decide not to tell your parents just yet. You don't think you're ready for Umi-mama to fight the girl you like.

When you both arrive at school the next day, it becomes blatantly clear to you that you haven't thought this far ahead. It's exactly like before, except instead of looking at you sadly, she looks at you as if you'll disappear. You wonder if she thinks that might happen.

When the two of you bump shoulders in the hall, you both apologise, and you blush so hard you think you might be able to light a dark room.

Today, at least, when you're working together in the councilroom, it's not completely quiet.

"I'm almost finished with this pile," she says after a while, and you can't help but notice how wispy her voice goes when she's embarrassed. You nod.

"That's good," you say, "if you can sort them too, then…"

You can't bring yourself to finish any of your sentences strongly. Instead, you're too caught up in the nervous way she chews on her pens, biting down hard on them every time she steals a glance at you. You only catch half of them, but eventually you think you can guess when she's staring at you. The sound of her pen scribbling across the page changes, ever so slightly.

She's efficient with her work, however, and she's beating you, today. Not that anyone could blame you, you think, probably. It's not your fault your vice-president makes you blush like a magnolia in May. You're grateful when the song on her phone changes, because it drags you out of your bubble of admiration just long enough to snap out of it. God bless, you think, for her suggestion of listening to music whilst you work. You think you've finally buried yourself in your work for the first time that day, and maybe you'll be able to get some work done when she speaks up.

"Uh, hey," she says, looking off to the side and itching at her neck.

"Hey," you say, coolly, because just like that your focus on your work is gone and all you can think about is her gorgeous, gorgeous collarbone.

"Do you," she stammers over her words, and you think that's just like her, "Do you want to hold hands?"

If she's trying to win an award for making you blush the most, you think, then she is definitely, definitely winning.

"Okay," you say, and as it's as if you exhale the word itself, and swallow. Hotaru looks to the side, and takes your left hand in her right. Her hand is a little sweaty, but it's warm, and as your fingers interlace, you find that you don't really mind.

You don't miss the smile that creeps to her lips, either. It makes you smile a little bit yourself to see her look happy for the first time in over a week.

You walk home like that, hands together, fingers locked. She waves at you with the shyest of smiles on her face when you finally unwind your fingers and separate. She's adorable, you think.

As the week passes, you start to talk a little more each day. Hotaru cracks a joke in class, and when you laugh, the way her face lights up reminds you of everything good in the world. You greet each other in the morning with a shy smile apiece, and you say farewell in the evening with just the tiniest tinge of sadness in your expressions. It's embarrassing, you think, but she makes you happy enough that you don't think you really mind all that much.

Aoi's talking to you again, too, and whenever you tell her about something cute Hotaru did that day, she laughs and smile and ruffles your hair just like she used to. Sometimes there's a tinge of awkwardness when it comes up that she used to make out with Hotaru, and even though it's only been a couple of days it feels like worlds away. You're just glad to finally have your best friend back. You missed her.

On Friday, the two of you don't have club, so you head straight to the councilroom. The work is easy, you think, and the music that's playing is fast-paced, perfect for working through the papers with a little energy. It's not all the same – Hotaru never did enjoy themes in her playlists – so the tempo wavers a lot. Every now and then, you hear a Muse song come on. Hotaru swears black and blue that she didn't put them on there, but for some reason, she knows every line, so maybe you don't quite believe her.

It's getting late by the time you two finish, and you yawn, stretch out your limbs, and gaze at the girl next to you. Your girlfriend, you think. You haven't said it out loud yet, but eventually, you will. She smiles back at you when she catches your gaze, and it sends you hastily looking in the other direction.

Thankfully, the song changes. It's a distraction, you think, as you're putting your things into your bag, but oh – you know this song. Moshimo Kara Kitto, you think. A solo song Hotaru's mother sung, back when they were younger.

"Hey," Hotaru says, suddenly, and it almost catches you off-guard, because the two of you have hardly spoken words to each other today – maybe you've communicated in hand squeezes and red-faced grins, but words seem a little far-fetched.

"Do you know how to slow-dance?" she says, and stands, offering you her hand to take. You stare at her – golden hair slightly messy, half-up half-down in that curious hairstyle of hers, an awkward smile spread across her face – just briefly, before shaking your head, and placing your hand in hers.

You've never really danced before – Aoi told you about the dancing lessons she took with Junko, but you've never really had the drive. You like to think you'd be naturally good at it, considering your mother heads a traditional Japanese dance dojo, but you think that might just be wishful thinking on your part.

You almost can't meet Hotaru's eyes as you stand with her, and she wraps her arms around your waist. You place a hand on her shoulder, and she takes your other hand in hers.

"Let me show you," she says, and her voice is all kinds of illegal gentleness that you didn't think you'd ever hear from her. "It's so easy, even I can do it."

You can only nod, because you've never done something like this before, but soon you get the hang of it, and the two of you are swaying from side-to-side, together. Hotaru takes the lead, and for once, you let her.

I'm sure
We are destined to meet, and even if we will be separated
The feeling that today will surely be bright still overflows

When you get to the chorus, you prompt her to twirl you, taking the lead in your own way, and Hotaru's face reddens a little more. You're spinning in circles around the room, swaying and dancing from here, to there, laughing and spinning and –

Hotaru slows you, to your surprise, until you're barely moving, just swaying gently from side-to-side.

While bringing up the fragments of all your dreams
I found myself, at some point, growing just as passionate
Within the smiles of everyone

She meets your eyes for the first time since the song started, and swallows.

"Can I kiss you?" she asks, and you flush bright scarlet. You close your eyes, dipping your head as you try to prepare yourself.

And then my dream gave everyone wings
Among everyone's many smiles
I will forever treasure these feelings
I want to embrace them, I want to hold them dear

Then, you reach up, cup her face in your hands and press your lips to hers. It's a little chilly, and you can feel it on her lips, but the second kiss is a little less cold, and the third is even warm.

The song ends, and you breathe, laughing softly as hers tickles your nose, but you stay with your arms wrapped around each other. You think you could stay like that for a while longer.

After all, you think as you press your lips to hers a fourth time, it's cold.

i hope you enjoyed the fic! be sure to leave a comment if you did, and check out nina's amazing art for her au at .com
i had a lot of fun writing this, particularly because i never write in second person, so this was very much a learning experience! thank you for reading!