one moment, then two, then all the time in the world.

This holiday season, all Saki wants is to make the most of her time and enjoy every moment—which means being honest with the girl with icy blue eyes. At the same time, Ichika comes to understand why she feels the way they do around the blonde with dyed tips.

PJSK; Hoshino Ichika, Tenma Saki, Tenma Tsukasa, Hatsune Miku (L/N), Mochizuki Honami, Hinomori Shiho; Ichika uses they/she, Shiho uses they/he; Gift for Melon_Mastermind.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: to the person this is for, thanks for being the bestest friend i could ever ask for this year. love you lots!! /p

Ichika spent a lot more time at the Tenma's than she thought.

The thought makes itself clear as she navigates up the ladder to the attic, the memory of where all the holiday decorations were placed resurfacing. Three boxes, one covered in marker streaks from the time she and her friends decided to doodle on it as kids. It was a miracle they hadn't damaged anything inside, especially considering the banter between Shiho and Saki. They wouldn’t stop complaining that the other was taking up all the room, so much that she and Honami stepped back to let them both have it.

Neither of them minded, but especially not Ichika. Even as kids, seeing the girl who always had her hair in pigtails made her happy enough.

The teenager picks up the box as they reminisce, stacking it atop the other two. Tree lights dangle out of one of the boxes, to which she struggles to roll up while holding everything.

“Icchan!” The blonde calls out. “You good up there? Do you want me to help?”

“I got it,” they assure, making her way back to the ladder and setting the boxes on the ground. She pats her hands on her hoodie, the fuzzy feeling of dust slowly coming off her skin. When they look down, they meet eyes with Saki, who has her hands resting on either side of the ladder, her foot on the first step.

Ichika smiles warmly. Stubborn as always.

Playfully rolling her eyes, she picks up the first box and leans down, their hands extending past the entrance to the attic. “Can you carry this one to the living room for me?”

“Aw, no fair!” Saki protests once she takes the box. “You gave me the light one! I may as well be holding nothing!”

Ichika eases their way down the ladder steps, holding the remaining two boxes close to her chest. Once both her feet were firmly planted on the floor beneath her, she shifted the boxes again until they were comfortably in her arms.

“They're practically the same weight,” they point out, giving a small, nervous laugh. She walks past Saki, spinning on her heel to keep eye contact. “Come on, I'll let you handle the tree decorating and all.”

“This is my house, Icchan,” she replies with a laugh of her own, tailing after them with the box covered in marker doodles. “You don’t have to let me do anything, silly.”

The two wander into the living room, the fake pine tree set up beside the couch. No presents lay underneath it, the small rug just as bare as the store-bought tree itself. Ichika sets the boxes on the couch, dusting off the sleeves of her hoodie.

Saki places her box atop the coffee table, the jingling of the ornaments sounding on impact. She spins around, stepping closer to the tree. A sigh escapes her lips, quickly piquing the other's attention.

“Is something wrong, Saki?”

“Oh, no, no!” She waves her hand dismissively, the sleeve of her pink sweater flopping back and forth. “It's nothing, I'm just…”

She trails off, her pink eyes falling upon the tree again.

“... Not used to this, is all.”

For such a cheery girl, her voice fell awfully solemn. It wasn’t like Ichika could blame her, though. They know what she was talking about too well, and so, her eyes follow.

“I'm… happy to have you here, this year.” The thought spills out of her mouth like water, a river flowing with no way of controlling itself. For a moment, they feel a wave of embarrassment wash over them, her chest a familiar warm and fuzzy feeling, like always.

It was quiet for a bit, the two sharing the moment of silence and letting her words sink in. Ichika has to make sure she hadn’t said anything weird, though if they had, Saki would probably have told her so already.

Eventually, Saki's eyes meet hers, and they hold contact for a second. Pink was a nice color, Ichika realizes. The color of strawberries, the sunset sky, perhaps even watermelon. Even in a room as bleak as a hospital room, just the simple splash of color made it a little less awful. Maybe that's what it was like to have such a bright look on life like she did.

The blonde takes a moment to reply, seeming to think over her words.

“I’m happy to be here too,” she finally says, exhaling through her nose. Ichika can make out the way her eyes make small crescents when she gives that silly grin of hers, one that hasn’t changed since they were young. “I missed you all so much. I wanna make up for lost time! We’re gonna have the best holiday season ever!”

Ichika hums and nods in response, holding a determined expression. “I’m looking forward to it. I want to spend as much time with everyone.”

The keyboardist can’t help the smile that tugs at her lips, and Ichika knows it. She places her head in her hands, shaking with joy. “You’re so sweet, Icchan! I’ll make sure this year’s the best for both of us, okay?”

She looks up from her hands, bubblegum-colored eyes meeting theirs. A shade of pink so bright, yet somehow so comforting. Maybe it’s the fact that Ichika always saw those eyes as an anchor, a guaranteed relief whenever they saw them. When things seemed to be going downhill, Saki made them feel better, even when she didn’t know she was doing so.

Their smile grew. Any more and she knew their cheeks would begin to hurt.

“Well, not that this year isn’t already the best of my life,” Saki notes after a moment, dropping one of her arms. Ichika raises an eyebrow, her head tilting to the side like it always does when they don’t quite understand. She can remember the time the other compared the mannerism to a dog when they were younger, pointing out how adorable it was.

Back then, the fluffy feeling in their chest wasn’t anything to question. She simply shrugged it off as the usual happy feeling, and thought nothing more of it. Now, however, it was different. It was still hard to pinpoint why they felt this way sometimes, often to the point of frustrating her a little.

Still, despite it, she feels heat rise to her cheeks at the memory, but they try not to pay attention to it in favor of hearing Saki out.

“Why is that?” She questions, prompting her to continue.

Saki’s smile remains overly sweet, her eyes shutting right before she responds. Even with the disappearance of those comforting pink eyes, all Ichika can do is watch fondly. “Because I’ve got you, Honachan, and Shiho-chan! You guys have really made my year. Being able to hang out with all of you again… It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Ichika feels like they’re going to melt. The blonde never fails to be so kind with her words, always full of emotion, like not being vulnerable would kill her. Her mouth falls open for a moment, then she shuts it, reconsidering their words. It’s only when Saki’s eyes open that they force themselves to say something in return, regardless of how sentimental she’d make the moment for it—

“You really mean that?”

Her thoughts yell at her. That’s not it!

“Of course!” The confirmation is too quick for Saki to be lying, even when Ichika knows she’d never lie when saying such a heartfelt statement. “You’re all so amazing… Honachan is so caring all the time, taking care of us and all, and Shiho-chan’s scary, but he doesn’t hold back from what’s on their mind! And you, Icchan—”

She pauses. Ichika swears her heart stops the moment she pauses mid-sentence. She doesn’t breathe, doesn’t blink. They stand there like a statue, so still that their life possibly depended on not moving for a moment. Saki’s eyes stare at her with something that they can’t really make out, but it makes her legs feel weak. She feels silly, but there’s no denying the strange emotion that overtakes her makes them happy.

“... You’re so kind, all the time,” Saki finally says, as if she’d been choosing the right words to say. It’s only then Ichika’s heart jumps back into motion, rapidly thumping to make up for the pause a second beforehand. “You think about the needs of your friends so often, and you’re willing to sacrifice plans if it means adjusting to something one of us needs.”

It takes a second for Ichika to realize the keyboardist has captured their hands in hers. When had she stepped forward? Had they been that close this whole time? She hardly even noticed.

“I really find your passion admirable too, Icchan,” she continues in a softer voice, as if this wave of compliments were something Ichika could handle. “When we were younger, it was you that made me want to keep learning how to play the keyboard! I wanted to play songs with you and the others, even when you all were so talented for as long as I could remember. You inspire me, and I just… I hope you know that.”

The smile on Saki’s face never left. In fact, it almost shone brighter with every word, like the sun rising in the morning. The sun had always been a good analogy to describe her. The ever-glowing sun, constantly bringing light and warmth to everything she touched. Ichika’s heart pounds as they process what was said about her just now. She wonders if she’ll faint right now, granting them the luck of not needing to respond.

“I…” Ichika glances down at the soft, warm hands pressed against her slightly calloused ones. She blinks a few times, only now realizing some tears forming—had the compliments gotten to her this much? “... Thank you, Saki. I– That means a lot to me.”

She giggles, bringing one of her hands up to make a peace sign near her face. “Mhm! And I mean it too!” Another pause, although this time, she seems to have stopped herself from saying something. Ichika has no time to dwell on it, however, and it isn’t like their mind would have allowed it either.

“You guys are my very best friends. I love you guys so much!” Saki says after a moment, placing her hand on top of Ichika’s once more.

The sentiment almost makes them begin to feel overwhelmed, her heart racing in a way that’s somehow unfamiliar yet not at the same time. It’s hard to pinpoint the proper word to describe it, but it makes her heart swell, especially as they gaze into warm, bright pink ones. She thinks she’ll explode, which wasn’t a way they would describe their emotions a lot of the time.

She wants to stay like this forever, even when she feels so weird when she’s like this. This weird feeling of theirs is something they wish they could understand, but despite the fact that she doesn’t, she knows it can’t be all that bad. It makes them happy, beyond that, really, and they wish they knew how to express that to the girl in front of her.

“Now c’mon!” Saki jumps up, clasping her hands together excitedly. The warmth begins to disintegrate from her hands until it’s only a lingering feeling, and it takes all of Ichika’s strength to not frown. There wasn’t any need to mess up a moment like this. “This tree won’t decorate itself, y’know. Let’s get to work! I wanna try and surprise Tsukasa before he gets home from his rehearsal!”

“What do you want for the holidays?”

The question flies out of the guitarist's lips, as if she had asked on complete impulse. Their eyes fixate on Saki, her expression reading more serious than most intended. She holds a chuckle back, not wanting to embarrass Ichika for the endearing way her eyebrows knitted whenever she was focusing on talking.

Instead, she tilts her head to the side, gripping the mug of hot chocolate a little tighter in her hands whilst her mind becomes preoccupied with finding an answer. Her leg hopped on the ground beneath her, a hum drawing past her lips while in thought. Despite the whole show of thinking, there wasn’t much to actually think about— in fact, the answer bounces back and forth between the walls of her brain, like a tennis ball flying across the court.

Eventually, she decides on a simple shrug for her reply. “Not sure. I can’t exactly think of anything,” she says, a smile drawing across her face. “I don’t think there's a lot I could want."

"Really?" Ichika tilts their head, mirroring her unknowingly.

"You sound like my mom," Saki jests, gently nudging the other with her elbow. It wasn’t a lie—even when she was younger, Tsukasa and her parents often tried their best to get whatever she wanted to make her happy, often insisting on the question until she came up with something that she would like as a gift. It was why she had pink dye staining the ends of her hair to this day, and why the rest of her family had them too. It makes her feel guilty in hindsight, but she chooses not to dwell on it for too long.

She giggles, being careful to make sure her hot drink wouldn’t spill. “But yes, really! You seriously don’t have to do anything for me this year,” she says, lifting the mug to drink some of the hot chocolate. The marshmallows have already melted for the most part, she disappointedly realizes.

“... But I want to,” replies Ichika after some silence. When she peeks from behind her tilted mug, she spots them staring directly at her, as if she were purposely trying to meet her gaze.

Like the stubborn soul she is, she stares back, unable to find any words to reply with. She rests the cup on top of her lap, the drink having cooled off enough to not immediately burn her.

They don’t waver. This unsaid staring contest continues, seconds feeling much longer than they were, before the girl with galaxy-colored hair finally falters, her icy-blue eyes shutting tight to regain the moisture lost during the lack of blinking.

“Um— Nevermind.” Ichika shakes her head. “Maybe we could go ice skating this weekend,” they suggest, switching the topic before Saki can comment.

“Ice skating?” She repeats like a parrot, going along with the change in conversation. Her head tilts to the side now, twin tails swinging with the movement. The idea blossoms excitement within her, chest bursting with warmth—she'd never been skating before, her only experience having been through stories of friends who had.

“W-With Shiho and Honami, of course!” They add before quickly covering her face by taking a sip of the hot chocolate. She tilts the mug away from her lips a little, their eyes glued onto the liquid inside. “But, um… Yes. Ice skating. I haven't gone myself in a while, since my mom used to take me, but…” Ichika shakes her head again. “We can ask them about it later. If you want to, that is. It's up to y—”

“Sure!”

“Ah… Huh?” The girl slowly drops their arms, the remainder of the drink swishing around. She seemed surprised, almost, which didn't make much sense to Saki; why would she say no?

“I said sure,” she clarifies with a small giggle. “It sounds fun! Besides, it's been a while since we've done holiday stuff as a group.”

The expression on her face indicates her hesitancy to say the obvious. The reason why they hadn’t been able to spend the holidays together last year, and the year before that—the reason they'd been separated for so long, unable to hang out as a group—was because Saki had been in the hospital for so long. It wasn’t her fault, and she kept telling herself that, but a small part of her continued to throb with guilt.

She takes a large gulp of her drink, concealing the way the corners of her lips turned downward and the way the sparkling look in her eyes dimmed like a flickering candle.

“Yeah, it has,” Ichika agrees, oblivious to her inner turmoil. She seems more or less joyed by the fact she agreed, if the smile on their face was anything to go off of. “I'll see if they're available this weekend. That way, we can spend some more time together, yeah? You should make sure to bring it up to Tsukasa-san, just in case.”

Ichika's voice is enough to draw Saki from her thoughts, something she can only thank them for silently. “Will do!” She nods, the flame of her candle brightening as a grin beamed across her face. “Sounds like a plan to me! This is going to be really fun, Icchan!”

“Just… make sure to be careful, alright? If you start getting tired or don't feel up for it when the day comes, just let me– erm, us– know.” Unlike Saki, Ichika manages to relax, their smile gentle yet still able to shine like a star. It takes the keyboardist a moment to realize she's waiting for her to confirm, rose eyes savoring the image of the curl of their lips like always.

“Mhm! I promise I won’t push myself. I’m just super excited!” She downs the rest of the hot chocolate, the saccharine bits lingering in her mouth. “Tsukasa should be home later on, so I’ll let him know then.”

“Sounds good,” Ichika simply replies. They don’t say anything more, relaxing against the couch and directing her gaze to the drink in their hands.

They seem content; Saki doesn’t want to disrupt that. She sets her cup to the side and leans back herself, enjoying her company for a while. Hanging out with her best friends always made her feel happy, no matter what they did. Even just being here with Ichika, one-on-one, not doing anything except sitting next to each other on the couch, felt comforting.

Whether it was all in her subconscious or not, Saki scoots to her left, solely to be just a bit closer to Ichika. The other didn’t move, and she couldn’t tell if it was because they hadn’t noticed or didn’t mind. Either way, she didn’t look up to find out, instead opting for just a small smile to herself.

Perhaps the thought is silly, but the only way Saki could describe it was magical. All they were doing was just sitting here in each other’s company, yet there was something about it that meant so much to her. The fact that Ichika was here made everything feel okay. The thought that Saki was here too, and that they weren’t at the hospital, made it all the better.

She was home. Not just literally, but figuratively too. It was funny that she had to remind herself now and then, as if it were some new revelation. Still, it didn’t fail to baffle her every single time.

Saki didn’t have to sit in a hospital bed all day, unable to dance and run as she pleased. There was no more need to wallow in the discomfort of loneliness, because she wasn’t alone anymore.

She yawns. When her head meets Ichika’s shoulder, the only thing she recalls is their startled voice calling her name softly.

“Icchan!”

Ichika spins on their heel, being careful as to not slip in the snow. Even though her skin remained freezing in the December air, there’s a familiar warmth that makes her hands feel a little less cold, the heat arising in their chest.

The blonde’s pink gaze makes no notion to even glance down at her feet as she practically runs through the white blanket on the ground, silently crunching with every footstep. She’s holding something in her hands, Ichika notices, though she attempts to tuck it away under her jacket.

“Saki…!” They wave their hand, walking towards her to try and meet her halfway. “Slow down! Why did you run all the way out here…? A–And where's your cane?”

The girl stops walking once she's close enough to Ichika, holding back on a reply at first due to catching her breath. She watches as she heaves, wishing she had brought an extra water bottle for Saki, even if it would have just frozen in the weather.

There was a pause, her body leaning forward ever so slightly. “I left– I left it inside, but you forgot– You forgot your music sheet,” she explains with a shaky breath, gasping for air.

“Huh?” The guitarist tilts her head, their hand clasping around the backpack strap. “That's… strange. I could've sworn I—”

Upon spotting Ichika shrugging off their bag, Saki perked up. “I’ve got it, don't worry…! Just– turn around, I'll put it in your bag."

They slowly nod, unable to help her eyebrows that arches up. It's obvious to tell she's confused. As much as they would easily trust her like any person that knew her, Ichika wonders if there’s something else. This wouldn’t be the first time Saki ran out of her house to return something she forgot about, rain or shine, however…

They try not to say anything, going with the flow and following through with her request. Maybe Saki was probably just feeling more upbeat than usual, despite waking up from a nap shortly before Ichika left.

The noise of her bag zipping faintly sounded in the winter breeze, their ears growing colder by the minute. She could feel Saki sifting through some items from behind, attempting not to make a mess. Throughout the whole thing, Ichika listened carefully as papers ruffled around, presumably Saki trying to neatly slide the music sheet into the folder they always carried. After that, she feels the keyboardist zipping the bag shut, occasionally tugging on the zipper to make it stop getting caught on a thread.

Just at the last second, however, something clatters outside the bag and onto the ground.

They glance down at their feet, and it takes them a moment to fully recognize it: a charm bracelet, one that looked relatively clean from afar, resting on a part of the sidewalk that wasn’t coated with snow. A series of connected dots dangles from it, forming the Leo constellation—a shape she could recognize from miles away, and quite literally too. They could spot the blonde properly closing Ichika’s bag from behind, eyeing the item from where she stood.

“Is that… one of the constellation charms Honachan made for us?” Saki inquired. Of course, she was able to notice it too. Before they could swoop in and snatch it off the ground, she bent down and picked it up, scooping it up with her pinky finger.

“Um… yes.” There isn't any point in lying about it, though she’s still filled with slight embarrassment. They were glad her dark blue hair blocked a portion of her face—she could only imagine what they looked like, all bashful over a silly jewelry item.

“Aww! You kept it all these years!?” The other exclaims, her pigtails swinging side to side as she speaks. “Mine is somewhere stashed at home… And it's definitely not because I misplaced it at some point,” she laughs at her own sarcasm, albeit guiltily. “I feel super bad, though… Honachan seemed so happy about giving them to us in fifth grade.”

“I'm… sure she doesn't mind,” Ichika assures her, the reddishness in their face fading. “Everyone sort of stopped wearing them when you, uh…”

She didn't need to continue. Saki got the hint.

“... Yeah. I assumed so,” she admits, voice tainted with a sense of gloom that didn’t suit it. A puff of warmth meeting the cold air made her breath visible, like smoke from a fire. The keyboardist let the charm bracelet jingle on her finger, urging her to take it. “You still have yours, though! Why don't you wear it?”

There was a moment of silence between the two, the blonde waiting eagerly for Ichika's response. She slowly accepts the bracelet from the other, hooking her pointer finger underneath it and lifting it up carefully, as if a single wrong move would mess something up. Their fingers brush together, and though it was only for a moment, she jolts back at the soft skin. An awkward giggle sounds from Saki, but she doesn't comment.

She just waits, as if the two have all the time in the world at their fingertips.

“I mean… I guess I just keep making up excuses for it,” Ichika finally says, her icy blue eyes no longer staring into the bright pink ones. They stuff the charm into her pocket and bring their arms up, wrapping them around her body to keep warm. “When you left, Shiho was the first to abandon their charm. Eventually, Honami followed suit. I um… kind of assumed it'd be awkward if I kept wearing mine, so I took it off and kept it in my bag. It's like a good luck charm, I guess.”

Saki slowly nods as she soaks in the information, her expression hard to read from what she could see out of the corner of her eye. “Mmm, I get it! We've been all hanging out again for a while now, though—I'm sure Shiho-chan and Honachan would love to wear them again! Maybe you could ask them about it!”

“Ah… I don’t know. Wouldn’t it be weird? I mean, last time we were all wearing them together was like… early seventh grade. That's a whole year and a half, Saki.”

“So?” She doesn't waste a second to reply. It's almost as if her response were programmed into her; as if she were reading lines of a script. The way her eyebrows tilt inward slightly gives the impression that whatever she's about to say was not only important, but heartfelt as well.

And so, Ichika makes sure to listen. She forces herself to look up, pressing their lips into a firm line.

Saki smiles, placing her hands on her waist. “It’s better late than never! If you waste your whole life looking for the right time, you'll never find it.” The cheery, assuring grin on her face cracks, but she upholds the curl of her lips as much as she can manage. “Then, before you know it, it'll all be gone… and it’s not just something you can buy at the store. Time isn’t something you can just replace, Icchan.”

Ichika stares back at Saki, silent for a few moments as they process her words. She knew she was right, that was for sure. More than that, they knew it was something she expressed as a fear often—running out of time, not having enough of it, or even wasting it. There was a reason behind Saki getting a bit emotional over it, one that she could never blame her for.

“... Too much?” The blonde’s voice suddenly falls uncharacteristically sheepish at their lack of reply, gently clearing her throat. “I got a little carried away, sorry—”

“No,” Ichika shakes her head. “There's nothing for you to apologize for. You’re right, Saki… Thank you.” There’s an undeniable lilt in their tone that indicates their gratitude, one that seems to relieve any sort of uncertainty in the other.

She clasps her hands together, managing to giggle. It’s only then that they realize the jacket she’s wearing isn’t buttoned, revealing the light blue t-shirt that she was wearing before everyone left. That’s surely not keeping her warm, they note, taking this opportunity to reach over carefully—albeit absentmindedly.

“Icchan?” Saki wonders out loud, the confusion on her face obvious as the guitarist steps closer, her icy-blue eyes trained on the large buttons on her jacket. Their gloved hands pushed each one through the hole with ease, their gaze steady as they trailed upward.

It isn’t until they finally button the last one that she looks up, her eyes meeting wide, bright pink ones. The first thing they notice is the slight flush of her cheeks—something that was quick to make her worry.

“Are you feeling alright?” Ichika asks, placing a hand against her forehead. They’re quiet for a moment—making out the girl’s temperature was a bit difficult through the cloth, after all.

“N-No! I mean, yes, I’m fine, Icchan,” Saki says, shaking her head. “Sorry, I was just— caught off guard. Don’t worry!” She places her hand over the other's and gently prying it off her forehead, a nervous laugh leaving her throat.

“Caught off guard…?” They muse aloud, tilting her head to the side. She pulls her hand back, holding onto Saki’s hand. With a small glance to their intertwined hands, it hits her.

Oh… right.

Ichika steps back slightly, loosening their hold on the other's hand. “Um– I didn't realize I– I'm so sorry,” she apologizes, attempting not to panic. Normally, they asked before touching someone or getting close, worried about making that person uncomfortable, yet it had completely slipped her mind this time. How could she not have realized?

“It’s fine, it’s fine!” Saki replies quickly, shaking her head. “I don't– I didn't mind, really. It's okay, Icchan,” she gives an assuring grin, dropping her arms at her sides.

Another silence settled between the two, the dark haired teenager falling quiet upon being unable to figure out a reply. Their thumb brushes over Saki's soft skin, her brain allowing the supposed luxury of spacing out—albeit only for a moment.

“R-Right,” Ichika clears their throat, pulling her hand away from the other's completely. Despite quaking gloves, she tucks her warm hands into the comfort of their coat pockets. “Um… It's getting really cold. You should go back in before you get sick or hurt yourself,” they reason, prodding the small pile of snow near her with her foot.

Saki slowly nodded, as if in something of a daze. “Oh, yeah– I should, huh?” She laughs, placing her hand against her cheek. She spins on her heel, crossing her arms together for warmth. “Get home safe, Icchan!”

“... You too,” is all Ichika can reply with, unsure of what else to say.

As the blonde walks off in the direction she came from, her feet making a new set of footprints in the snow, there's something that lays heavy on their mind; something they wanted to say, but couldn't quite remember. That moment of silence between the two, her hand gently clasped around their’s. She'd zoned out there, most likely thinking of that very thing they wanted to say, but now they had forgotten.

Ichika thinks for a long while, standing there in the middle of the sidewalk by themself. If anybody passed by, she'd surely be stared at, but it wasn’t something she's taken into account.

Maybe I should apologize again? No, that can't be it…

There’s a lingering feeling of warmth in her chest, the one that appeared when they buttoned Saki's jacket and placed her hand on her forehead, and then briefly held hands with her too. It's something that they can’t remember, but so desperately want to. It had to have been important, especially since she knew it was something they wanted to say to Saki.

... It's probably nothing, she defeatedly settles on with a sigh. They spin on their heel, walking in the opposite direction.

“Tsukasa?”

Saki watches as her brother immediately perks up, whipping his head around from his desk. He seems almost startled for a moment, his fingers gripped tightly around a pen. When he realizes it’s her, his gaze relaxes, and the rest of his body follows suit.

“Saki,” he says, dropping the writing utensil and pushing against the desk lightly. His chair rolls back and he spins around, properly facing her. “What's up? Need something?”

The youngest Tenma steps into Tsukasa’s bedroom, pausing to think over her words before speaking. She leans against the wall, light pink socks allowing her to slide. Maybe that’s what ice skating is like—she’ll find out soon, thankfully.

“No, no!” Saki shakes her head. “I don’t— I don’t really need anything,” she confirms, tapping her fingers at her sides. “I just wanted to let you know I’m hanging out with Icchan and the others this weekend. We’re going to a skating rink!”

“I see!” Tsukasa beams a grin that’s not very unnatural of him, nodding in approval. She wouldn’t have expected him to forbid her from going, but she’s glad he’s given the green light.

“Make sure you take it easy, then,” he adds, crossing his arms. Even when he’s smiling, there’s a stern tone to his voice that is far from foreign to Saki. “Mom’s gonna get on both of our cases if she finds out you were overworking yourself again.”

All she does is mirror the curve of his lips, her teeth peeking past. “I know, I know. Icchan told me something similar. I promise I’ll be careful!”

Tsukasa nods—a silent action that Saki knew well. He was trusting her again, believing she’d stick to her word and avoid straining herself once more. It was a bad habit of hers, but she'd been doing her best to take care of herself. It wasn’t just for her sake, but also for her dear brother and her best friends.

It was them who seemed to really give her that reason to watch out for herself, to make sure she was well enough so she wouldn't have to leave them all again. Seeing all of them every day was enough to remind her of the need to live every day to the fullest. Even if they had no idea how much it all meant to her, she remained ever grateful for their company. After all, what’s a life if not full of people that make it worthwhile?

Her silent musings come to an end when she notices her brother still staring at her, as if waiting for her to leave. The smile spread on her face falls sheepish, instinctively pushing herself up on her tiptoes.

“Are you… feeling alright?” Tsukasa prods after a few moments. He stares at her with that look in his eyes that can only be associated with an older sibling; she’s seen it from him, and she’s seen it from Shiho’s older sister too. Maybe that was just something all older siblings had in common.

Saki quickly nods, her hands awkwardly forming a pair of thumbs-up. “Mhm! I’m all good, don’t worry!”

His gaze is unmoving. She sighs. There’s not much she can do to convince him. Despite all their time apart, he’s still always been able to tell when something was off.

“... Well,” she begins, gently tugging on her sleeve. Suddenly, she can't meet his eyes, as if she were feeling guilty about it all now. “I– Do you remember what I told you about before…? About Icchan?”

Out of the corner of her vision, she sees him nod slowly. It's hard to tell, but she swears she sees his lips curl up into a smirk, even if only slightly. “Yes, I do. Of course I recall! You told me you liked them, didn't you?”

Tsukasa's response isn't at all what she expected. When they'd discussed it back then, he seemed on edge about it—he wouldn't stop talking about how much Saki had grown, and how she wasn't a child anymore and all; it was embarrassing, but he seemed at least a bit relieved it was someone he knew.

Still, this kind of reaction to the mention of it had caused her cheeks to flush. Her hands flew up, attempting to hide her warm face. “H-Hey! You can't just say it like that…!”

Tsukasa laughs, his skepticism dispersing. She should have seen this coming; of course he would wind up teasing her about it at some point. The only thing she's grateful for is the fact he isn't looking all worried about her anymore.

“Why not? It's not like they're here,” he grins, his laughter reducing itself into a few snickers. It takes him a moment to stop making light of her embarrassment before continuing. “But yes, I'm assuming this is about that?”

Saki peeks from behind her hands, finding Tsukasa motioning to his bed. An invitation to sit down, she figures, and gladly accepts—she really should have gotten her cane before.

She nods as she sits down on the bed, immediately sinking into the mattress. It wasn’t as soft as her own in her room, but she could still recall the few times he let her hang out in his room while she was sick. It was so she wouldn't be lonely, even with the company of a few stuffed toys.

“Yeah, it is, um—” There goes that uneasy feeling again; butterflies in her stomach tickling her insides, making her want to find some kind of excuse to not proceed. She knows there wasn't any point in fearing, though—aside from her brother's teasing, that is. “I um… I wrote her a letter. It's silly, and I didn't really say anything straightforward– I-I didn't proofread it either, actually.” The admission takes a load off of her shoulders, but there's a weird feeling that continues to linger. It wasn’t caused by any sort of physical strain, she knew that much.

“Oh!” Tsukasa snaps his fingers, seeming to understand. “So, you wrote a vague-ish confession and would like me to read it first? I’d be honored.”

Saki clicks her tongue, shaking her head. “No, you goof! That's– I mean, I wanted you to! But I may have… gotten impatient?”

His expression falls, shoulders sinking a bit. “You've given it to her already?” For a second, he sounds disappointed, but then his eyes light up with curiosity. “Did she read it? What did they say?”

“... That's the thing,” she says, a nervous laugh leaving her in the form of an exhale. “She doesn't… know I gave her the letter. I snuck it into their bag when they were leaving. I don’t think she suspects anything, but this is Icchan we're talking about—she's always full of surprises.” Saki’s lips curl into a soft smile, albeit somewhat against her will. Her gaze goes unfocused for a moment, her mind zoning out for what feels to be only a few seconds.

Tsukasa hums, placing his chin between his thumb and index finger. The noise is enough to snap the girl out of her lovestruck trance yet again. “You mean to tell me you wrote a love letter for Ichika, yet didn’t emphasize the ‘love’ part of it?” The question is clearly meant to be rhetorical, however she slowly nods. “And then, you didn’t give it to her personally either? Just… snuck it into their bag and hoped that it’d go smoothly?”

Yes, that’s exactly it, she wants to say, but all she can manage is a stare.

Guilty as charged.

Her brother returns the stare, his orange eyes reminiscent of a campfire she’d only seen in movies. When she can’t find any quip or excuse to respond with, he eventually seems to give up the act.

And there he goes, laughing again.

“And this is the same Tenma Saki that told me to get over myself two years ago?”

“No fair! That doesn’t count!” She exclaimed, her voice growing unintentionally loud. “Your crush was on some random person in your grade! You’d never even spoken to them before; you had nothing to lose! This is…” She pauses, her eyes tearing away from him. “It’s just– different. I can’t lose Icchan, which is why I don’t know how I thought this was a good idea.”

Searching for a way to rid of the bundle of feelings stirring in the pit of her stomach, she decided on simply burying her face into the palms of her hands, some part of her desperately hoping that'd be all it took to feel better about it.

The more she thought, the worse she began to feel. Saki could feel herself fighting tears, a lump in her throat forming as she tried to hide her face from Tsukasa—there was no way she was actually crying about this. It felt useless in this situation, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop.

She felt a hand gently place itself onto her shoulder, pressure slowly being applied until she was steadied. She’d hardly even noticed the trembling of her body, but there was no doubt he had. Saki never let herself sob audibly, holding in sniffles for so long she wound up coughing instead. Whilst she furiously wiped at her eyes with her sleeve, she heard Tsukasa reach over to the desk he was sitting at. A tissue box was placed next to her, much to her gratitude.

Tsukasa hadn't said much the whole time, the only audible sounds being his breathing and soft hushes, like the ones their mother always did during her hospital visits. She finds comfort in this similarity between them, slowly attempting to calm down.

Through a shaky exhale, Saki forces herself to keep talking. She sharply inhales, the air warm thanks to the heating system. “I– I want to make the most of the rest of this year. This is the… first time we've all been together in forever. I guess I just thought that I should take the chance now while I still have it, but now I’m… scared again. What happens if Icchan says no? What if they…”

She can’t finish her sentence.

She reaches to her side for a tissue, averting her gaze. Her sleeve had been soaking up most of her tears since she started crying, the damp fabric against Saki's skin making her uncomfortable, so the least she could do was wipe the water from her eyes with the soft paper instead.

Saki lightly shrugs off Tsukasa’s hand, a silent signal she was fine now. He releases her shoulder without a second thought, leaning back somewhat as if to give her space. His silence continues for a few seconds more, before finally landing on the decision that now was a good time to speak. "Are you feeling better?"

She nods, her gaze still remaining far off.

Tsukasa returns the gesture, a nod of his own indicating that he'd acknowledged what was said. “Ichika surely wouldn't abandon you just because she didn't share the same feelings,” he assures, sounding unsurprisingly confident as usual.

When Saki brings herself to zone back into her own surroundings, his face is the first thing she sees. Sunset orange eyes, the same as they always are. His lips are firm, but his gaze is gentle in a sense. Like always, his voice rings loud in the room, even though they’re sitting in front of each other.

He continues, knowing that he has her attention now: “You two are friends, aren't you?”

Another rhetorical question. She nods, this time quickly. Of course she and Ichika were friends. They always have been, and that was exactly what she was worrying about.

“Don't you think it'd be strange if your profession of love—vague or not—would be something that tore you two apart?” Tsukasa tilts his head and crosses his arms. “If anything, she would see it as a notion of how much you care for them! Even if they're unable to reciprocate, I'm sure it'd mean a lot to her that you love her so much.”

The way the words easily fly into the air makes her heart pound. Love. Care. Reciprocate. It was never something she had thought her brother would speak to her about in this kind of context, mainly because she'd never really had any crushes—or at least, the opportunity to. It had always been her, Shiho, Honami, and Ichika. Especially Ichika, really.

“... You really think so?” She whispers, the hope in her voice trying so hard to disguise itself as neutral.

“Would I lie to you, Saki?” He chuckles, cracking a smile.

Saki giggles, albeit weakly. “Mmm… I don't know, maybe?” She jests, clearing her throat afterward. Her smile continues to remain ever present. “... Thank you, though. I really needed to hear that.”

“Of course! After all, aren't I your wonderful older brother? It's only what I do best.” He stands up, bowing forward as if he were on stage and gently pushing the chair back. His boasting only prompts her to playfully roll her eyes.

“Aw, you've ruined it now,” she says, placing her hand against her forehead. She gets off the bed herself, spinning on her heel so she continues to look at Tsukasa. “That was a perfectly good moment, y'know! You're always so dramatic.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment!”

“Of course you are!”

The two share a laugh for a while, though Tsukasa's fades out a little before Saki's. When she gets herself together again, she finds him looking at her with a softer grin.

“Don't worry too much, alright? No matter Ichika's response to it, you two will be fine. I know it.”

The sentiment is assuring. She nods.

“I know it too.”

SEKAI’s stars have always looked so pretty.

Ichika stands near the corner of the rooftop, gazing off into the vast nothingness past the rooftop’s fence. When they look down, she can't see the bottom. It’s an empty void, but in a more peaceful sense, rather than ominous and terrifying. When she looks up, the stars that litter the sky shine brightly, glowing and twinkling in the endless night.

They can spot constellations if they squint hard enough. It’s easier with the telescope, but she isn’t here for stargazing, as much as they love doing that. Her mind races like the winter wind back in their world: blisteringly cold, perhaps even in an almost painful sense. It’s hard to put all the pieces together, even when everything they need to know is in their hands—literally.

She glances down at the letter in her hands. A piece of paper, folded into thirds. In SEKAI, she doesn't need gloves while they stand outside, their palms still full of warmth. They don’t open the note again, simply standing there and occasionally stealing looks at the item, as if somehow it'd give her an answer eventually.

“Ichika.”

The guitarist jumps in her skin, icy blue eyes widening as soon as the familiar, robotic-like voice echoes across the empty rooftop. They spin their head around quickly, her grip on the letter tightening. They had never really adjusted to seeing someone they’d admired for so long in the flesh like this, much less actively giving her attention, even though all she was doing was making eye contact. Blue hair tied into short pigtails swung back and forth as the figure walked past the rooftop’s doors, a smile on her face as usual.

“Miku.” Ichika returned the expression, though it didn’t meet her eyes. It was only to be polite, they knew, and part of them also knew that it wasn’t fooling anyone.

The virtual singer’s footsteps were louder now that they were aware of her presence. Somehow, even after all this time, Ichika found it hard to believe the conversations she had with her were real. It all still felt fake sometimes, like at some point, they’d wake up from a strange dream and move on with their life.

But of course, there was a reason Ichika had made amends with all their dear friends. There was a reason her life didn’t feel so void of meaning anymore, why everyday felt memorable no matter what happened. It was strange to think about, sometimes. Virtual singer Hatsune Miku, as in the Hatsune Miku, had aided in fixing the four’s relationships, and even helped in achieving their shared goal of being in a successful band. They still hadn’t gone fully pro yet, but they were making progress everyday. That was good enough for Ichika.

Miku walked until she was standing next to Ichika, her aqua-colored eyes finally flicking away from the guitarist. She joined them in staring out beyond the fence, glitter dusted across the sky in ways that still continued to surprise her, even after staring at it for so long.

The two are quiet for a few moments, which is already longer than usual. SEKAI always seems full of noise, Ichika realizes, whether it was the sound of music blasting in the classroom below, or just the chatter of the virtual singers and her friends. There was always some kind of commotion going on, and although that contradicted the sort of safe spot they described to themself, it was that in itself that sort of comforts her. The feeling of unpredictability, but in the sense that no matter what happened, it'd all be okay. That's what SEKAI was to Ichika, whether Miku and the others knew that or not.

Finally, after those beats of silence, Miku breaks the ice with a question that's always asked when they come here.

“What brings you here, Ichika?” Her gaze remains far away from them, much to her gratitude. “Surely, you aren't just here to stare at the sky? Not that I mind. It's good to see you again.”

Ichika nods, cautiously glancing to the side. Slowly, she moves her arm, hoping to hide the paper in their hands. It's not that they're attempting to avoid the subject, of course, but bringing it up felt… embarrassing. As they stare down at her hand, she reminds herself to keep talking, just to avoid attention.

“Umm… I've just been thinking, is all,” she says. It's not a total lie, but it's not the total truth either. Of course, they were thinking—she was always thinking, her mind racing a million miles per hour, sometimes even faster depending on the day. The very paper in her hand hadn't done much to help the roaming thoughts that bounced in their brain, in fact only amplifying it one way or another.

Somehow, still, Miku acts as if she buys into the story. Either Ichika was one hell of a liar, or she wasn't wholeheartedly taking them at their word. Part of her seemed to think it definitely wasn't the former of those two.

“It is quiet up here, isn’t it?” She comments, adjusting the bands around her wrist. Dangerously, Ichika dares to take a glance at the turquoise eyes that twinkle in the starlight. They wonder what they look like in this kind of light, the only thing allowing her to see their surroundings being the bright balls of sun so far away from her. Miku speaks again, suddenly shifting her gaze from the vibrant sky above them both. “A breath of fresh air can always help you regulate your thoughts, can’t it? Rin and Len can be something of a handful, so I like to step out when I can.”

Miku meets their eyes. All she can do is nervously look away, as if any prolonged eye contact would reveal all the complicated emotions bubbling under the surface. In response, she hums and nods, but there wasn’t anything Ichika could quite say.

Still, no matter the guitarist’s efforts, she feels gentle eyes staring at the side of their head, like an older sibling they’ve never had. “What’s on your mind, Ichika?” Comes the inquiry, the question being more direct now. She can’t try to answer vaguely; they’ll hardly sound believable, without a doubt.

The paper crinkles in her touch a little more. They feel bad—such a pretty, handwritten letter being wrinkled like this. The corners of her lips curl into a small frown. There’s no way they can lie here. Somehow, even without saying anything at all, Miku and the other virtual singers knew exactly what to say and do. Maybe that’s what was meant when they were told SEKAI was made based on the group’s feelings. In a more or less comforting way, it was like having someone there to always listen.

Yet either way, Ichika still feels their attempts at keeping it together slipping. Even as she tries to gather her thoughts to be at least somewhat coherent, their heart grows heavier. Surely, they wouldn’t cry about this, right?

“I’m… kind of freaked out.” She combs her free hand through their hair, letting their fingers gently pull apart the tangles. When that hand finally makes its way out of the blue mess, she holds the paper in front of her. Their eyes scan the tri-folded letter, the newly formed creases scattering across it.

Miku doesn’t reply. A silent prompt for her to continue talking.

“Saki… she…” Ichika trails off, gaze glued onto the paper as if it’s her very lifeline. She forces an awkward chuckle, completely void of any genuine joy. “It’s so unlike her. I don’t know what this means– I must be losing my mind.”

“Perhaps you could read it out loud?” The virtual singer suggests, her pigtails swinging from side to side as she leans over. Initially, the sudden movement spooks Ichika, her body flinching away on impulse—once she realizes it’s still the same person they’ve been speaking to this whole time, they relax, to some degree.

Ichika shakes her head, the first certain gesture they’ve made since she got here. “No, it’s um… I don’t think Saki would want that. It had to have been something she wanted to keep private. She didn’t even give it to me upfront, so…”

Miku nods. That’s the end of that part of the discussion.

“... But,” the guitarist continues, unfolding the note slowly. They angle it so it faces away from Miku, who steps back to give her some room. “I, um… I'm not really sure how to describe it. You know how friends tell each other they love one another, right?”

“Of course,” she responds, as if the answer were as clear as day. “It's important to be able to express affection towards your friends casually, isn't it, Ichika?”

“I mean– Yes, I know that, but…” They shake their head. The more she tries to figure out how to word it, the sillier it seems. Ichika takes a deep breath before she continues, eyes scanning over the note once more. They’re certain she’s just about memorized every word, every syllable crystalline in Saki’s voice as it echoed in her head. “The note… It said just that, but something felt different. I can’t even pinpoint what exactly either. She called me one of her best friends, which isn’t out of the ordinary… She also said some other cheesy stuff, like spending the rest of her life with me—”

Ichika can’t help but pause. She sounds absolutely ridiculous, without a doubt. They glance over at her senpai, who stares at them intently. Before she can get a word in, however—

“But we always say this sort of thing to each other! It’s nothing weird for us, definitely,” she clarifies, folding the paper up once again, and then in half, making it small enough to fit in their pocket. “I just… I don’t understand why I feel like this about it.”

“Ichika.” Miku’s voice is almost flat, seeming to have lingered in her thoughts for a few moments. They swear they saw hesitance on the virtual singer’s face for a moment, though it disappears before she can be sure. Instead, she’s face to face with an expression once again befitting for an older sibling of sorts. “Do you like Saki?”

A simple, four word question. They never would have guessed such a short question would make everything slow down, even slower than SEKAI was compared to the real world. For that short moment, it felt as if the wind stopped blowing through their hair, and the stars created a spotlight so she’d answer. As much as she’d pretend Miku had meant that in a platonic sense, her intention behind the question was so incredibly clear, even when Ichika struggled to pick up on implications from time to time.

She stammers over a reply. What is she supposed to say? Do they even know the answer to that?

Tenma Saki, a girl who shone so brightly no matter the circumstance. Even when she was in the most unfortunate situation, she glowed in a way that rivaled the sun itself. It always hurt Ichika to see her sad, and even more so when they knew there was nothing she could do to help her.

But still, usually, she could find the bright side in situations. Through her tears, Saki was able to smile and laugh. If she didn’t know her any better, she would have assumed there was nothing in the world that could stop her. The sky was the limit for her, but she couldn't soar like those around her could. That didn't matter though, not to Ichika, and certainly not to Saki herself—all they ever wanted was to see her happy, no matter what.

The teenager recalls Saki falling asleep on their shoulder the other day. She didn't even get to finish the remainder of the room temperature drink in her cup, but they didn't dare move. If Shiho had been around that time, he would have surely woken her up before long. It was just the two of them, though, alone in each other's company as if that's all there was to it. They remembered not being able to fall asleep on that couch, or in her own bed that night, like almost every night when her mind was preoccupied with Tenma Saki.

And it’s so strange, now that they think about it. As much as she loved Honami and Shiho, absolutely adored them, it was rare they ever made her heart flare up the same way it did when Saki was around. With that radiant smile of hers and inextinguishable can-do spirit, it really shouldn’t have been much of a shock that Ichika had fallen in love. And the more they thought, the funnier it seemed. Was it really like this the whole time?

Had Ichika been falling further and further for one of her closest friends, from the very beginning? From the time that girl walked up to her when they were younger, asking if she could draw with her because she couldn’t go outside, and the way she nervously peeked at the small spider in their hands for the first time despite previously being afraid of them, and the soft sway of her twin tails when they were walking in the rain under an umbrella just a few weeks ago—was she only just now realizing this?

Finally, like a knife piercing through their thoughts, Miku giggles. “You’ve figured it out, haven’t you?”

Slowly, the guitarist nods, although she still feels somewhat dazed. However, things seem to click, for the first time since Ichika pressed the play button on the song that remains a portal between the two worlds. Their heart thumps rapidly, but it doesn’t feel as if the world is ending. In fact, it feels like it’s all begun all over again, her feet feeling light underneath them.

But like any teenager her age, they feel it all crash once more. Before a smile can even attempt to make its way onto their face, an uneasy expression replaces it. She tears her eyes away from Miku, staring off into the starry scenery once more.

“... What if she doesn’t reciprocate?” Ichika responds, hardly realizing her lack of verbal reply to the question before. “Maybe… Maybe it’s all in my head. What if Saki doesn’t feel the same way I do?”

Miku’s silent for a long while, but they can feel her staring at them, as if she doesn’t immediately have the words to say. It isn’t until Ichika forces herself to look back again, solely out of pure anxiousness, that she seems to have figured out the advice to offer—

“Ichika, you and Saki were the first to team up and create the building grounds of Leo/need after you two reunited, weren’t you?”

—except it’s not exactly advice right away. It’s a question, and one that Ichika surely knew the answer to. All they could gather was a vague idea of what the virtual singer was attempting to get at, but she goes along with it anyway.

They hum in confirmation. “Yes, we were. Saki wanted to put the band back together again, so we started with just us.”

“Putting together a music group like this means having trust in one another. That comes with familiarity in each other, isn’t that right?” Miku smiles, resting a hand against her cheek as she leans against the fence. “You two have just that. It’s why this SEKAI exists, after all. I’d say that either way, regardless of Saki’s feelings—”

“She wouldn’t let it affect our friendship,” Ichika interrupts, having gotten the message. A wave of embarrassment washes over her for a moment, and she clears their throat. “... Is that what you were going to say?”

That warm smile of Miku’s hadn’t faltered. She seemed hardly phased by the other cutting in, instead simply replying with a nod. “Exactly that. You already know this,” she reassures, placing a hand on Ichika’s shoulder. “And you know Saki. Just be honest with her, and ask her to do the same.”

Although she isn't certain of Miku's words, all they can do is trust that she’s right. After all, nothing else seemed to make sense as much as that, and they didn’t feel like trying to come up with a hypothetical that could happen. She wants to believe that was the case, that in the worst case scenario, she and Saki would still be the very best friends they always had been.

Because Ichika doesn’t know what she’d do if they lost her again.

“... Thank you, Miku.” Politely, the guitarist bows, her wavy, dark blue hair strands dangling over their forehead until they stand up straight again. “I appreciate you hearing me out. It… means a lot.”

Miku pushes herself off the fence, returning the gesture. “Mhm! That’s what I’m here for,” she places a finger near her lip, giggling. “It’s my pleasure, Ichika.”

With that, she finally returns the smile and spins on their heel, ready to head back to their world. They pull out their phone, her finger hovering over the pause button on the song. Out of the corner of her eye, she spots Miku perk up, as if she just remembered something.

“Oh, right,” she says, pausing until Ichika looks her way. She clasps her hands together, swaying to the side a little. “Happy holidays! And best wishes to you.”

They don’t have to respond. She nods and presses her finger on the pause button, the scene slowly growing distant from their senses.

For a girl who claimed to not be the best on ice, she was amazing. Saki found it hard to keep her eyes off the way the guitarist leaned forward ever so slightly, eyes glued to the ice beneath them. Ice skating definitely was a lot different compared to roller skating, even if it was all the same to the keyboardist. They were activities she hadn’t been able to do before, but now had the opportunity to because she’d recovered. She’ll never be able to be more grateful for this: the chance to catch up with everything she’s missed, the freedom to be with all her friends once again.

She pushes against the railing of the rink, joining the group of people in the middle of the ice. The winter breeze pushes against her face, but she doesn’t shiver. Instead, all she does is let out a sigh as she regains her balance, the puff of warm air visible against the freezing cold.

Shiho, graceful as ever, pulls up beside her. He adjusts the beanie on top of their head, pulling it down to cover their ears. “You holding up okay?” They inquire, just to check on her.

Saki hums in response, not doubting it for a second. She’d done her best to rest up and take care of herself this week, and looking back now, she’d hardly strained herself once. Her friends had constantly made sure she hadn’t forgotten her cane, or to drink water, or to eat a snack. She smiles warmly—their concern only pushed her to look after herself more, and now it paid off.

“Mhm! I’m all good, Shiho-chan,” she pulls her scarf up, wrapping her arms around her torso. “It’s really cold, but I bundled up! And I’ll let you guys know if I start getting tired out.”

Shiho nods. “That’s good, then. Take it easy, Saki.”

“Will do!” Saki jokingly salutes, pushing her leg back and shooting forward a little. She tries to turn around to face the other teenager, though she finds herself losing her balance. Before she can hit the ground, however, she hears the sharp sound of skates scratching against the ice and gloved hands attempting to support her from behind.

The force behind her back isn’t enough though, and she ends up taking it down with her. She yelps, placing her hands on the slippery ice beneath her.

When she looks up, she spots Shiho in front of her and Ichika on the ground next to her. Honami was quick to skate their way, weaving past the others in the area.

“Saki-chan, Ichika-chan!” She exclaims, pulling to a stop as smoothly as she can manage.

“Are you two okay?” Despite Shiho’s somewhat unchanging expression, his voice raises in alarm. They bend their legs to reach forward, offering his hands out for the two to take.

Saki grasps his hand as quickly as she can, struggling to stand up for a few seconds. Out of the corner of her eye, she spots Ichika decline the help with the light shake of their head, attempting to stand up by herself. The bassist watches in mild amusement as they once again slip and fall.

Despite knowing they were probably alright, she can’t help the shriek that tears from her throat: “Icchan!”

“Ow…!” Ichika gently rubs the side of her waist, their hood falling off their head and allowing pretty, galaxy-colored hair fall past her shoulders. For a moment, Saki can’t help but stare, as if she had temporarily forgotten what she looked like with her hair down, even if that was the usual way they style their hair at school.

She shakes her head. Honami offers her hands out with a sigh, helping the dark haired teenager up to their feet once more. A small chuckle leaves Shiho, letting go of Saki’s hand once she’s properly upright.

“Really? You just skated across the rink to try and stop Saki from falling?” He teases, placing a hand on their waist. “You can’t even go five seconds without nearly losing your balance, what made you think you’d be able to save someone else’s?”

Ichika’s face flushes out of embarrassment. She presses her hands to their cheeks, trying to cover the cotton pink dust on her cheeks, but the others have already seen it. Saki has already seen it. And she's imprinted it into her memory, consciously or not. "I was only trying to help…! Come on, Saki, back me up here… I helped a little, right?"

Their eyes meet. Saki swears her heart would have stopped right now had it not been for Honami and Shiho staring at her with such bemused light in their eyes.

"Well…" She stammers. It takes her a moment to remember what was said to her just a second before, her mind having been preoccupied. "Right, um! Yeah, of course you did, Icchan! Though, we still both fell anyway, so… Did you really?" There's a song-like tune to the end of her response, a giggle escaping her lips.

"Saki…!"

Honami laughs before nearly losing her balance herself. The blades of her skate scratch the ice harshly, light pink gloves instinctively grasping onto Shiho due to them being closest to her. The two nearly fall over, leaving Ichika and Saki to make light of the quick misfortune that fell onto the others after poking fun at them.

Though, unlike them, they easily get back on their own feet and join in on their amusement. Saki feels her legs feel light underneath her again, though not in the sense that she’s going to fall. Joyous laughter fills the air, maybe even drawing the attention of others, but she doesn’t look around to check. She indulges in the moment, warmth filling her chest like a warm fireplace.

Then, she glances to the side. Ichika has a hand placed over her mouth, stifling their laughs as much as possible. Even then, the way her cheeks make their eyes wrinkle slightly is a clear tell they’re enjoying themself, and it makes her heart flutter. It doesn’t even occur to her that her own laughter has paused until their eyes meet as the guitarist wipes a tear off her cheek.

That’s when Saki’s heartbeat freezes entirely.

Honami and Shiho go quiet eventually too, smiles lingering on their faces. Saki can feel both of them glancing between the two of them, as if speaking would interrupt the moment or anything like that.

Eventually, Ichika awkwardly tears her gaze away, the smile on their face faltering. Her heart sinks.

Without even having to ask or think too hard, she knows: They saw the note.

The drummer tilts her head, her side ponytail swinging with the motion and her eyebrows furrowing with worry. “Um… I don’t mean to jump to conclusions, but is everything alright? Do you two want to get off the rink?”

Ichika shakes her head, waving their hands dismissively. “I’m fine, I’ll stick here for a little longer,” she says with a nod. Saki pays attention as best as she can—it doesn’t seem like they’re lying.

She can see Shiho eyeing the dark haired teenager as well. It’s safe to assume they come to the same conclusion, considering their gaze flicks onto Saki herself. He says nothing, and she realizes they’re waiting for an answer.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m okay too!” She grins, pushing her feet against the ice so she skates backwards. Her hands fly out on instinct, ensuring she’d keep her balance. “... Actually, I’m going to stick near the edge. Just so I have something to hold onto, y’know?”

“That works,” Honami replies with a soft smile. “Just be careful! My feet are hurting, so I’m going to get off the ice. I can get us some food too?”

The teenager with light gray hair tucks their hands into their pockets. “Mhm, sounds good. I’ll come with. We should keep watch on Saki’s cane, anyway. We’ll meet up in fifteen minutes.”

Ichika nods, waving her hand farewell. “Alright…! Take care, you two.”

Saki can only loudly hum in response, watching in silence as the others took their leave. She stood there, just past the girl whose hair followed the direction of the breeze. From behind, they look so unbelievably angelic. Of course, the same was when she was facing her too, proving just how pretty she was.

Once her friends exit the rink, they carefully put on their skate guards and take off the ice skates in favor of boots fit for the snow. As soon as they both exit her field of vision, Ichika turns around.

“Come on, let’s go before we fall again.” They offer out their hand, skating closer to her. She slowly wraps her hand around hers, and despite their gloves being in the way, it feels so undoubtedly warm.

Saki finds it in her to giggle, temporarily ridding the awkward feeling that engulfs her from inside. “Yeah, okay! Let’s go!”

Ichika guides her across the ice steadily, her eyes set forward to keep their balance. Saki does her best to keep pace, though she staggers behind a bit due to repeatedly glancing down at her feet. Had it not been for the other slowly pulling to a stop, she would have glided straight into the border of the rink.

She grasps onto the side board to steady herself, letting go of Ichika’s hand with a soft yet awkward giggle. The world feels as if it slows once they find a slow pace right next to her as they skate near the outskirts of the skating rink.

Saki doesn’t feel the need to look down at her feet anymore, allowing the skates to glide against the ice with ease. Only now does she have the opportunity to look up instead, her eyes fixating on circular, golden lights that illuminate the ice in the evening. It’s almost reminiscent of the fairy lights Ichika used to have at their mom’s house, though she doesn’t say it aloud.

Instead, she looks over at Ichika, who was looking up as well. Their features glow in the light, her eyes almost twinkling like stars. Her faint freckles seem to stand out more than ever, like the time Saki had pressed a pen to their face to mark where exactly each dot was when they were younger. At the time, her mission was to memorize where every last one of them was, so she’d never forget. There was another reason, even if it would go unsaid today—she thought those freckles were adorable, and had no shame in saying it aloud, despite Ichika’s embarrassment. She’d say their freckles were like constellations in the night sky, drawing a line to connect the dots to make shapes.

If she had the courage to, she’d say it all again right now, under the cloudy evening sky, but she still keeps quiet.

Saki wondered if they were thinking the same thing, indulging in one of the many memories of their late parent once more. It makes her sad to think about Mrs. Hoshino from time to time; she doesn’t want them to be sad too.

She finds herself a new mission: say something, anything, to break the silence.

Though, before she can pursue the idea, Ichika beats her to it.

“Hey, Saki?”

They don’t look at her, icy blue eyes still watching the lights and sky above her. There’s no stars in the sky, no thanks to the clouds. She doesn’t seem to mind however, and Saki can’t blame them—the sight is pretty either way.

She takes a deep breath, recalling the way Ichika’s smile had fallen earlier. Maybe if she just went with it, they would forget about the note, and then they could talk about something else.

Saki inquires as casually as possible: “Yeah? What’s up, Icchan?”

There’s silence. Every passing second causes her heart to pound harder than the last, this uncomfortable fear latching at her chest. She thanks the stars that Ichika isn’t looking at her, because she knows there’s a frown on her face that she can’t hide, even with the scarf that covers the bottom half of her face.

“Um… I wanted to ask you something,” Ichika responds with that tone that’s sickeningly full of uncertainty. It’s one that Saki knows all too well, one they use when talking about something serious. More specifically, the voice is reserved for serious conversations with those close to them. Her mind can only come up with one topic.

The letter. The letter. She’s seen the letter.

She forces herself to feign innocence, desperately hoping she’s wrong. “I’m listening?”

“I mean, um— I guess it’s… more or less tell you something. Or maybe it’s both?”

Ichika’s stalling. Saki feels like she’s going to implode.

Finally, they look back over at the girl with blonde and pink hair. There’s a nervous expression that’s impossible to miss. She recognizes it from the first time they went to Phoenix Wonderland together, the noise having almost overwhelmed them.

“I want to–” Ichika pauses, shaking her head before restarting their sentence. “Your note. The… The one you snuck into my bag the other day. I saw it, and um—”

Saki’s heart stops. This time, it’s not in the way that the world slows as she focuses on the girl with soft, dark blue hair. No, this time around, time stops completely, and everything numbs for a second. Like water rushing into an empty container, her heart fills with fear. It’s all over. She’s going to be asked what her intentions were, and she’ll have to be honest, because it’d be cruel to lie to Ichika like that. That, and they would know she was lying—both a perk and a downside of being friends since childhood.

“... I wanted to ask what you meant by it. You said you loved me, among other things, and I—”

It’s over. It’s all over. “—I just want to know I understood right.” Ichika stares at her, and for once, she can’t figure out what they’re feeling. She feels like she’s going to cry, emotions rushing at her so quickly, but she tries her best to suck it up.

Even if they're unable to reciprocate, I'm sure it'd mean a lot to her that you love her so much.

She just has to be honest. That has to be easy enough.

“I—” Her voice cracks, much to her embarrassment. Despite her tear-filled eyes, she stares at Ichika, bubblegum irises searching for anything in the ice-colored ones that indicates they wouldn’t react negatively to the truth.

Afraid of having to watch the possibility that the other’s face would shift into one of disdain, she shuts her eyes tightly, the darkness behind her eyelids blocking out most of the light surrounding her. Only then can she let the words spill out of her like water, as if keeping it in any longer would kill her.

“I… I really love you, Icchan. More than just the way we always say it to each other—” Saki can’t push herself to keep skating, pulling to a stop and gripping the side board as tightly as she can. “It’s… silly, maybe, but– I have so much time now that I’m not in the hospital. I’ve had so much time to sit on these emotions, and I turned away every chance I had when you came to visit, because I couldn’t say it. I don’t know what I would have done if you turned me down and stopped visiting, and now I just—”

She sobs, pressing a bright, watermelon-colored glove to her eyes. Ichika pulls to a stop next to her, carefully placing a hand on her shoulder. They don’t have to say anything. She impulsively skates a little closer to her.

“I’m really sorry for breaking down like this,” Saki apologizes between sniffles, hardly aware of the gentle tremble in her arms. “I just wanted to tell you while I still have the time to. I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future, y’know? And– And if I could lose two and a half years just like that, I can’t… I can’t hold anything back. All I want is for you to know is that I love you, Icchan, and I hope this doesn’t affect us in any way.”

Half-heartedly, Saki manages a laugh, though it’s a last ditch effort to make herself feel better. “Shiho-chan would be so pissed if I was the reason the band didn’t play as well, wouldn’t he?”

Ichika doesn’t respond. In fact, they don’t respond for a long time, instead quietly pulling Saki in for a hug. Without any hesitation, she wraps their arms around the keyboardist, leaning against the barrier of the rink for support. She buries her head into the crook of the guitarist’s neck, the fabric of the teenager’s scarf soft against her forehead.

They stay like this for a while. Saki’s heartbeat resumes at a regular pace, as if none of what she said was affecting it anymore, like a heavy weight lifting itself off her chest. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t make her feel better, but there’s still an ill feeling that lingers. Ichika hadn’t said anything, and she still feared what they would say—soon enough, she’d have to say what was on her mind, certainly.

Saki keeps on waiting, then. She’s willing to wait as long as she needs to, despite the fact she can’t bear looking up right now. By now, the noise around her has faded, even though she knows strangers still go about their evening and enjoying themselves. She’s convinced she could hear so much as a pin drop on the ice they stood on.

Finally, she hears Ichika let out a sigh. The sound makes Saki jolt, lifting her head so she can set her chin on their shoulder. The wet fabric presses against her skin, making her feel bad—she hadn’t meant to soak the other’s clothes like that.

“... Are you feeling alright, Saki?” Ichika asks, as if asking her about her own well-being would mean she wouldn’t have to answer. She knows that they know she has to say something soon.

Still, she answers the question with a weak nod. “Y–Yeah. Sorry for that.”

“It’s fine,” the guitarist replies, patting her on the back. “I get it. You… don’t have to be sorry for it.”

Saki pulls away from Ichika’s hold, as much as she wants to stay close to them. Though the space around her eyes still feels wet, she wipes it away with her sleeve, clearing her throat. For the first time since she allowed her guts to spill onto the ice, words still hanging in the air like icicles, she opens her eyes. The light blinds her for a few seconds, making her rapidly blink before she can finally set her gaze on the other.

She opens her mouth to speak, however nothing comes out. The fairy-like lights still glow down on both of them, the scene still holding the same magical feel to it. Her heart flutters at the sight yet again, but the feeling isn’t as strong—she’s still waiting.

“... Icchan,” she says after a moment, her voice a little weak. “You don’t… have to feel the same way, y’know. Like I said, I just needed you to know, for… my sake. Even if it’s a little selfish,” she lets herself chuckle again, a smile cracking onto her face.

More silence passes.

Saki watches Ichika, despite some part of her being half-aware pressure wasn’t their strong suit. In all honesty, she’d forgotten in the midst of it all, so focused on trying to understand what they were getting at. Surely, she hadn’t asked her to tell her the intention of the note without knowing what they were going to respond with?

Eventually, Ichika laughs too, a smile making its way onto their face. “I’m sorry, I just— I’m figuring out how to say this. I’m… not used to this sorta thing,” she guiltily admits. All she can do is return the smile and nod—at least they don’t seem to be taking it the wrong way.

And then, after so many suffocating seconds, the other clears their throat. She tenses, perking up in order to pay attention.

Again, she laughs, a relieved sigh escaping her lips. “I didn’t mean to make you wait for so long, I just… I can’t believe it. You really mean that?”

“Would I joke about something like this…?” Saki rhetorically questions, the lilt in her voice indicating such. “Of course I meant it, Icchan. All I want is you to tell me how you feel too—regardless of what it is.”

Ichika presses her lips together, as if going over the words in their brain one more time. And then, she finally gives the answer Saki had been wishfully hoping for the whole time, much to her surprise:

“I love you too. I love you so much, Saki.”

She feels as if her legs are going to crash underneath her. Maybe the ice would crack, and she’d fall into the water far past the solid and into the freezing cold that’d surely wake her up. If the moment hadn’t felt real before, it surely didn’t now.

“Was that so hard to say?” The blonde can’t help but tease, her shoulders slumping down. She places her hand against the side board, pushing forward to get closer to Ichika again. Almost like clockwork, the two’s arms wrap around each other, holding on as tightly as they can.

“A little,” Ichika jests in return, though Saki gets the feeling there’s a bit of truth in it. She wouldn’t put it past her, she thinks. “But I said it now, right? That counts for something, doesn’t it…?”

She laughs, squeezing her arms tighter around them. If Ichika weren’t holding the both of them up, she was certain they would have fallen over again. She figures she doesn’t have to answer the question—why wouldn’t it? She’s sure they know this, judging by the way their shoulders relax despite her lack of answer.

The silence remains, yet again. Now that it’s all said and done, Saki finds it amusing. Ichika really didn’t talk a lot, did she? It was fine, though. These few moments of quiet allowed her to memorize this moment. The warmth that radiated off the other; the feeling of her skates pressing against the slippery ice in an effort to keep her on her feet, even when she knew that wouldn’t help; the way that Ichika was gently messing with one of her tails out of habit—certainly, how could anyone believe magic wasn’t real with a moment like this?

“... I love you, Icchan,” she says again. It only feels right, right now.

Ichika chuckles. “I love you too. I know that, no matter what, I want to spend all the time in the world with you. You’re one of my best friends, and everything more than that, Saki.”

Her chest feels warm, her heart pounding intensely; she wonders if the guitarist could feel it. As embarrassing as it probably would be, Saki wouldn’t mind.

Then, suddenly, she feels the buzzing of a phone. It isn’t her own, judging by the lack of a notification sound. Ichika pulls away slowly, one of their hands resting on her arm. All she has to do is open the phone to see the message from Shiho, and though Saki can’t read it, she knows fifteen minutes must have flown by already. He was always one to stress being on time.

They tuck away their phone, facing Saki again. For a second, all she does is stare, leaving her to wonder what’s going on in that brain of theirs. There’s a soft smile on her face, icy blue eyes gazing into her own like the way she’s seen her look at stars in the sky in SEKAI.

She lets go of her shoulder, opting to hold her hand instead. Her gaze follows until it lands on their intertwined hands, and then it stays there until Ichika speaks again.

“Um… Do you mind if I…?” When Saki looks up, she spots Ichika pointing at her own cheek to demonstrate. It confuses her for a few moments before it starts to make sense.

She shakes her head, pulling down her scarf a little. The freezing air makes her shiver, causing both of them to giggle.

Nervously, the girl with dark hair leans in, closing their eyes midway through. Her lips make contact with her skin, and it’s only then she realizes that Ichika’s lips are so soft. They’re cold too, but that’s not very surprising in this weather. Despite it, her cheeks warm up as soon as they make contact, and when they pull away, she can see the flushed pink on their face too.

Another notification buzz.

Ichika sighs, not needing to check her phone to know who it is. They smile once again, squeezing Saki’s hand in theirs. “Ready to head back?”

Saki returns the smile. “Mhm! Let’s go, Icchan.”

And so, the two skate back across the ice, their hands still grasping one another. The whole way, she can’t help but process it all, still occasionally stealing glances at Ichika’s face, illuminated by the lights that hang above them. They’re focused on making sure the both of them don’t fall, but she can see the lingering smile, as if she’s so unbelievably happy. It makes her feel giddy inside.

I love you.

Published September 9, 2022. (Archived December 28, 2023.)