2.59: A Practiced Smile

My door again clicked open softly later.

“Dinner’s ready… Your parents are back. They’re unpacking right now,” Riko said.

Yuna glanced over her shoulder. She was still lying beside me on the bed, her arms around me. “How did the curry turn out?”

“Well enough.” Riko crossed her arms over her chest.

“Good job, Riko.” Yuna smiled.

“...I should have insisted on switching,” Riko muttered, pouting, staring at us.

“You wouldn’t have given her the right kind of support,” Yuna replied calmly, sitting up and adjusting her hair. “Your heart’s in the right place, though.”

Riko just kept sulking.

“Don’t be like that,” Yuna said lightly, “we didn’t do anything. I just held Sumire-chan until she stopped crying. Like I said, sometimes closeness is the best medicine.”

Riko puffed her cheeks, completely unconvinced.

I couldn’t help giggling softly. Riko’s expressions were too cute. I slipped off the bed slipping around Yuna and walked over to my desk, picking up my hairbrush and began to smooth my hair, working carefully and slowly. “I’m sorry for all of this,” I said quietly, as I examined my face with a frown. “It’s not even certain that our relationship is really over… even if she said it like that.”

Shinohara-san… My heart ached, remembering when she started calling me that. She hadn’t used my last name since our first year of high school.  It wasn’t long before we were using each other’s first names after we met sitting next to each other at the opening ceremony.

I still remembered it clearly. The gym had felt bright and very formal, rows of new students in matching seifuku sitting stiffly while teachers droned on and on using the stage, words that were meant to be inspirational and motivating. Our navy blazers looked almost severe at first glance, with their gold buttons, all completely new and immaculately clean, but the white blouses and large ribbon bows softened them, and all around me the plaid skirts spread in neat folds over nervous knees. The guy’s uniforms weren’t bad looking either, although my eyes didn’t linger on any of them. I had kept smoothing my own skirt, worrying over my posture, trying not to draw attention to myself.

Then I noticed the girl sitting beside me.

She was beautiful. Pretty in a way that made me afraid to look too long. Her dark hair was tied back neatly, her posture straight, her profile calm and serious, her eyes sharp. She looked like the sort of girl who definitely belonged there, while I still felt like I was pretending to be mature, as though a change of clothes from a sailor seifuku was enough to change me. I remember thinking that even the way she sat in that uniform made her seem cool.

I had been trying very hard not to stare at her when she turned slightly, catching me.

For one terrible second, I was morbidly embarrassed, wanting to sink through the floor’s seams or just vanish.

But she spoke first.

“Nervous?”

Her voice was kept low, not mocking me for my reaction, just direct enough to make my heart jump a little.

“A little,” I admitted, looking down at my lap. “You too?”

“Yeah,” she said, and I glanced at her in surprise.

That made one corner of her mouth lift.

“I thought you looked so calm and mature… I really envy you…” I whispered.

“Hah… I’m just trying to look good,” she replied. “You look like you are too… You’re way too cute.” 

I flushed a sunset pink. “Ah… that’s why I envy you… You’re cool in a way that I couldn’t be.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.” She extended her hand lightly. “I’m Kurobane Aoi.”

I hesitated and took her hands. “Um… Shinohara… S-Sumire…”

Around us, the ceremony kept going. I couldn’t focus even a little on the teacher’s windy speeches anymore. Applause started and stopped and I tore my eyes away from our hands, pulling mine away, folding my hands in my lap. Names were called. Someone near the front coughed. None of it mattered much for that moment.

Kurobane-san looked at me several times after that and ahead again saying, quieter this time, “I’m glad I’m sitting next to someone like you.”

I blinked. “Huh?”

“Mm,” she said. “You seem easy to talk to.” She winked at me.

My face warmed so fast it almost hurt.

“I’m glad too,” I said, not knowing what Aoi already did.

Yuna stepped up behind me and rested a steadying hand on my shoulder, feeling warm. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you look calmer now. Maybe there’s some hope that you’ll be able to face tomorrow with a smile.”

Tomorrow…

I nodded. “I don’t really have much choice unless I want Mom and Dad finding out what happened.”

Riko closed the door behind her and leaned against it, her arms crossed. “If you don’t want that happening, you should probably clean up those tear streaks on your cheeks,” she added, looking away. “And… hide the red marks on your neck.”

“Ah… right.” I swallowed and nodded again.

“Do you have any makeup?” Yuna asked.

I hesitated, then smiled faintly as memories surfaced. I didn’t have a lot of makeup, but I had a phase where I experimented with it with my old middle school friends. What was left from those years were some lip gloss and a little foundation left over from when I’d had some acne trouble that Mom showed me when I started stressing out. I opened my ribbon drawer, dug around in the back corner, and pulled them out, setting them neatly on the desk.

“I’ll use these,” I said, opening the compact and dabbing the sponge carefully along my neck. “Um… could you check if there are any other marks that I missed?” I asked, my face warming at the thought of being caught.

“How thorough do you want this search to be?” Riko asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

I jerked away, my face turning crimson.

Yuna giggled and gently lifted my hair, tilting my head just enough to look. “There’s the one that you pointed out earlier,” she said, looking at Riko, pointing to the other side. “Check the other side.”

I felt myself heat up all over, unwanted images flickering through my mind as they examined every bit of my skin that showed. Riko lingered crouching to look at my legs. “There’s one or two here on her thighs, but I don’t think anyone will notice these.” She looked directly at me from below in the eye with an arched eyebrow.

I remembered when Aoi slid down my body and kissed me all over down there. Everything she did drove me completely wild. It was everything that I’d hoped for and more, impossible to forget. She kissed her way down, lingering on sensitive places like my nipples and when she reached below my waist, her kisses felt better and better.

My breathing got a little heavier, just thinking about how it had been.

Did I do something wrong? Was I too passive?

DOKI-DOKI

“Oi… stop daydreaming.” Riko teased. I shivered when she poked one of those spots on my thigh. 

“Don’t just touch me like that, Riko!” I yelled, swatting at her hand and fidgeting.

Riko pouted dramatically, her lips pursing. “Your skirt should be long enough to cover those spots anyway…” She sighed. “I’m really jealous…” she muttered.

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

Riko straightened and clasped her hands behind her back. “You’re going to need a better poker face than that if you want to keep what happened a secret. It doesn’t take a detective to know what you’re thinking about, but do your best to think about literally anything else whenever you’re around your parents.”

She took my hand, squeezing it gently.

“If it helps,” she added, forcing a crooked smile, “think about me instead. That should straighten out your emotions. You might laugh a little more and smile...” She paused, then sighed. “Or… at least distract you.”

Yuna and I laughed softly.

“There’s nothing straight about this,” I said, giggling despite myself.

Riko finally cracked, laughter breaking through her tension. “There she is! Our Sumire-chan!”

After a moment, I hesitantly wrapped my arms around Riko and hugged her.

“Don’t misunderstand, Riko-chan,” I mumbled. “Thank you… and I’m sorry for being so emotional earlier.”

Riko fidgeted, then hugged me back, squeezing a little too firmly. After a moment, when she let go, I did the same to Yuna.

“I’m sorry that I was such a burden. If it weren’t for you two, I’d have completely fallen apart, and my parents would have found out.”

Yuna’s return hug was more gentle. She rested her face against my neck for a long moment. Finally, I stepped back and returned to checking myself, making sure I hadn’t missed anything.

“There’s still that spot to cover up,” Yuna said. She took the compact and foam sponge from my hands and leaned in close, her movements careful and gentle as she dabbed foundation along my neck and then my cheeks. She worked quietly, gently concealing the faint tracks my tears had left behind and the puffiness.

When I finally looked at myself in the mirror, I almost relaxed.

I looked close to the usual me.

Big green eyes. Less pink-cheeked than normal and a little tired around the edges. A little subdued. But still unmistakably me.

I put on a crafted smile. It was small at first, then a little more firmly, and that seemed to complete the illusion that I was fine.

It would do for now.

We sat around the table together, bowls of curry steaming on the table.

The smell alone was comforting.

Warm spices, tender pork, the sweetness of the apple and vegetables cooked just right in the sauce.

The rice was glossy and perfect, little curls of steam rising off the plates.

Our curry tasted amazing. This curry was mostly Riko’s although she’d used Yuna’s curry blend to make it and I’d at least managed to prepare the carrots and potatoes before melting down.

I somehow managed to smile the whole time.

Not the wide, careless smile I usually wore when I was really happy, but a practiced one. Soft. Polite. Steady enough to pass.

This was the first time I’d ever introduced Riko and Yuna properly to my parents, and that alone made my chest swell. It had been a few years since friends visited my house. Yuna sat straight-backed and respectful, hands folded neatly whenever she wasn't eating, slipping into her most composed mode, calm and unbelievably graceful. Riko acted like her usual self, but I noticed that she was feeling a little tense, tried to look relaxed but kept glancing at Haru like he was a landmine that might explode at any moment and my parents for some obscure reason.

“These are Tachibana Riko-chan and Arisugawa Yuna-chan,” I said, gesturing at each as I gave their names. “They’re my closest friends right now.”

Mom smiled at them, looking thoughtful and then turned her eyes on me. “What about that other girl with the dark hair always up in a cute ponytail? The one that shows up every morning to go to school with you. Isn’t she a close friend? Why haven’t you introduced her to us yet?”

I kept the smile fixed on my face as I took a big bite of rice with the curry. A chunk of pork practically melted in my mouth, melting like I felt like I was.

“Aoi couldn’t stay over,” Yuna said smoothly, covering for me.

“Yeah. It’s too bad she had to spend the time studying,” Riko added, gritting her teeth in something that might pass for a smile.

“Studying? Impressive! Does she get good grades?” Mom asked.

“Oh yes… Aoi always gives her full effort.” Yuna nodded. “She’s very admirable.”

Riko pursed her lips, looking like she wanted to say something, but she didn’t.

Haru focused only on his curry. “This curry is really good…” he mumbled.

“So,” Mom said lightly, her spoon paused midair, “how did the weekend go?”

“No problems at all,” I lied quickly, my smile never wavering. I felt guilty over saying that, but I did my best not to show any of it on my face.

Dad hummed, clearly pleased, and went back to his curry. “It really is,” he said around a bite with glistening potato and pork and a big spoonful of rice.

Riko preened. She leaned back in her chair and tilted her head toward Haru, smiling in a way that definitely carried a threat.

“We took very good care of Haru,” she said sweetly. “Right?”

Her foot nudged him under the table, just enough to remind him of the outcome of the Tekku matches upstairs.

Haru stiffened, then nodded. “Y-Yeah. The food was good… and we played some Tekku.”

I winked at Haru, offering him a smile that I hoped would help him to relax.

He unwound a little after noticing and resumed shoveling curry into his mouth.

Mom and Dad exchanged a glance over their bowls, not suspicious, exactly, but thoughtful. Parents always knew when something was going on, even if they couldn’t quite figure out whatever it was.

“This curry is wonderful,” Mom said after a moment. “Who cooked it?”

“We all did,” Riko answered before I could, shocking me. She smiled, genuine and proud. “I handled putting it together in the end, but we cooked it together...”

“With all our love,” Yuna added gently.

Mom’s expression softened immediately. She nodded, tasting another spoonful with care.

“I can tell,” she said. “There’s a lot of love in this curry.”

I suppressed an urge to sigh in relief.

I kept smiling and ate with a better appetite.

Keeping a smile meant holding everything together.

For now.

Later that night, Riko and Yuna borrowed my pajamas again.

It felt strange, opening my dresser, handing them soft cotton tops that still smelled faintly like the detergent my mother used. I turned politely as they changed clothes with me. Considering that they’d confessed to me, I felt too self-conscious to watch them, even though we’d played Uno in the nude together before. We’d all seen each other, but it was strange how different it felt now.

Yuna giggled softly. Riko laughed, almost challengingly.

“Your shirts smell great, Sumire-chan,” Riko said, giving me a quick hug from behind. I couldn’t ignore the feel of her breasts against my back.

“It’s the detergent my mom uses,” I said stiffly. “I’m sure she’d be happy to tell you the brand.”

“It’s not the detergent,” Riko said lightly. “It’s your smell, I’m sure of that.” She held me for a long moment, but after a little, she let go with a giggle.

I blushed and scowled, climbing into bed and grabbing my pillow fiercely, my old sleeping companion.

I lay there hugging it, my knees drawn in slightly, staring at the far wall towards the door. My thoughts kept drifting, uninvited, back to Aoi-chan. Her voice. Her hands on my shoulders whenever we rode to school and home. The way she’d looked at me in the middle of our passion that filled my chest with fluttering butterflies.

“No games of Uno or anything?” Riko asked.

Yuna giggled. “I’d say not. Even though we didn’t do too much today, I’m sure that Sumire-chan is in a hurry to take on Monday.”

“Awww… okay,” Riko muttered. “We could at least climb into bed with her again. That would be a little more fun.”

“Don’t,” Yuna said. “Let’s give her some space… for now.” She said it like a declaration of war in love.

I hid my blushing face behind my pillow and stayed quiet and motionless, thinking about Aoi-chan. It didn’t help that they were flustering me so much. Every time they made me blush or made my heart throb was a betrayal of my love for Aoi.

Would she change her mind tomorrow? Would she show up on my doorstep like nothing happened?

…Probably not. I knew deep down that she wouldn’t. How she’d broken up with me felt too serious for that to happen.

But maybe… I still clung to hope, because I had to.

“I’m really glad that you both stayed,” I said quietly into the pillow. “Thank you.”

Yuna’s calm voice came from the futon nearest to my bed, sounding warm. “It was my pleasure. I’d be happy to come back any time.”

“Nope,” Riko said immediately, sounding offended. “That’s not happening.”

Yuna asked, “Oh?”

“Not when she has me,” Riko shot back. “I’m the one who offered to stay first, obviously.”

“That’s a bold claim,” Yuna replied mildly. “I believe I’ve been doing a fair amount of emotional support here.”

Riko scoffed. “You acted wise most of the time. I smell like curry because you took advantage of her vulnerability to cuddle with her. What was all that you were talking about, anyway?”

“I was completely supportive,” Yuna said serenely. “I didn’t do anything but hug her. Boundaries are important, remember?”

“Pft… as if I wouldn’t have been respectful," Riko shot back. “I’m a great hugger too, you know!”

“You’re too blunt,” Yuna replied. “You don’t hold anything back, even in a critical moment.”

I listened to them bicker softly, their voices overlapping in low whispers, neither of them actually angry. Just being here with me, arguing over something absurdly gentle… over who had looked after me better.

My chest still ached, but not in the same needle laced way. I smiled genuinely, listening to them.

I was very tired.

Turning onto my other side, hugging my pillow tighter with my back to them and crawling under the sheets and blankets, I let their voices wash over me. I didn’t feel like I had to say anything more. There was nothing to fix right now, no choice to make.

Eventually, their argument faded into quieter murmurs.

Then my bedroom was eventually silent.

Somewhere between one breath and the next, my thoughts finally loosened their grip.

I fell asleep with that small smile from my heart still on my lips.

When I woke up, my bedroom was strangely empty.

The futons that they had used were gone.

I blinked, still half-asleep, staring at the bare patch of floor where they’d been laid out the night before.

“…Did something reset?” I muttered, my chest tightening.

Where are Riko-chan and Yuna-chan? Did they feel like I was ignoring them?

I sat up quickly, the drowsiness burning away. After a moment of indecision, I climbed out of bed, peeled off my pajamas, put on fresh underwear, pulled on my uniform, and brushed my hair. For good measure, I reached for my favorite green ribbon and tied it carefully into place in my hair. A signal to Aoi-chan if she saw me. A reminder of our date. A reminder of our feelings for each other.

Maybe she would wear her ribbon too to let me know that everything was alright.

I thought about texting Aoi-chan, to ask her, but my fingers trembled after I opened our chat. I was too afraid to find out whether she’d blocked me.

I felt a little foolish wearing my ribbon. But I couldn’t help feeling hopeful that things would go back to normal.

If Aoi-chan showed up, I wanted to look this way.

I want to be as beautiful as possible today. Maybe the sight of me looking my best might change her mind.

I checked myself in the small mirror on my desk, leaning closer to inspect my neck and collarbone. My fingers hovered near my neck, ready to reach for the foundation if I still needed it. I rubbed at those spots, just in case the foundation was still in place. Some smudged off my hand, but the rest had come off on my pillow.

After a second, I nodded.

They’ve faded enough. Good.

What remained of the marks Aoi-chan had left were faint, barely there. Only someone looking very closely… someone searching… would ever notice them.

I grabbed my school bag and hurried out of my room.

Haru was leaning against his bedroom door, already dressed in his middle school uniform. When he saw me, his face brightened and he lifted a hand in a small wave.

“Good morning, Onee-chan.”

“Good morning, Haru.” I hesitated, then stepped closer and gave him a quick hug. “Thanks for last night.”

I stepped back and pressed a finger to my lips. “Keep up the good work.”

He nodded eagerly, grinning, his cheeks pink.

“Do you know where Yuna-chan and Riko-chan went?”

He shook his head. “They’re not here?” Haru asked.

I shook mine too. “Nope.”

Frowning, we headed downstairs together and sat down for breakfast.

My mother noticed immediately.

“Where did your friends go?” she asked. “Are they finishing up getting ready for school?”

“No… I don’t think so,” I said, tilting my head. “They seemed like they planned to stay last night and walk to school with me, but…”

She studied me for a long moment, thoughtful.

“Did they bring their seifuku with them?” Mom asked thoughtfully.

I gasped, then laughed softly.

“Come to think of it, they didn’t. I didn’t think about that. If they meant to stay, why wouldn’t they bring them with them?”

“I’m surprised too. Maybe they weren’t intending to stay last night,” my mother said thoughtfully, looking at me with a little smile. “If it were me, I’d have gone home early, caught the first buses, and gotten dressed. They’ll probably be extra tired for staying here overnight.”

My dad looked up from his breakfast. “Is everything alright?”

My mother shot him a sharp look, and he immediately backed off.

“Yeah,” I said quickly, smiling. “No problems. It’s just too bad they can’t walk to school with me. But I’m sure Aoi-chan will be here as usual.”

I lied again, squirming on the inside.

My parents exchanged a glance, then smiled at me like they believed me. Maybe that was too obvious. I couldn't hold back a faint blush.

We sat down and ate, but I picked at my food, feeling too anxious about whether Aoi-chan would show up. When it was clear that I wasn’t going to eat much this morning, my mother handed us our bentos, and Haru and I left together. As usual, he’d inhaled his food.

We paused at the gate.

Aoi-chan wasn’t waiting for me.

Haru waited a moment with me, then looked up at me. “Do your best today, Onee-chan.”

I nodded, exhaling slowly.

“I will. You too, Haru.”

I slung my bag over my shoulder, glancing at my bike out of habit and deliberately looked away… then stepped through the gate and turned left.

That was when I saw them.

Riko-chan and Yuna-chan stood a little way down the street, both of them looking tired around the edges, like they hadn’t slept enough.

Something inside my chest loosened all at once, but then I felt worried for them, going this far for me.

I must have looked crestfallen when I left the house, because the moment I spotted them, my expression broke into a smile, even though all sorts of worry were still worming through me. 

“Thank you—! I’m sorry that you lost sleep over me,” I started, bowing deeply. “I’m very sorry, you both!”

They rushed forward and hugged me tightly together, pulling me upright, their arms wrapping around me from both sides.

“Sorry we worried you by disappearing. It doesn’t matter if we’re a little tired today,” Yuna said softly near my ear.

Riko nodded. “Worth it. Not only did we realize we forgot that we hadn’t brought our uniforms,” Riko added, pulling back just enough to talk, “because we weren’t ready for Saturday to go the way it did… We wanted to wait this morning in hiding to see if Aoi-chan would come. We agreed that we should stay out of sight to be safe.”

Yuna nodded in agreement.

“How long did you wait?” I asked.

“We came an hour early,” Riko said, yawning, pointing at a nearby house and its low cement wall. “We waited behind there, peeking out. The owner caught us standing there, but when we explained what we were up to, she smiled and said it was fine.”

“I guess she never came,” I said quietly.

Riko and Yuna nodded with tight lips. 

“She didn’t even walk past your house,” Yuna said. 

“I see…” My voice came out smaller than I wanted.

I took a breath, then forced a smile.

“Maybe she’ll reconsider after a day at school,” I said, trying to sound cheerful. “I’ll smile at her all day long so she won’t feel too guilty over what happened, and maybe—” I ran my fingers over my hair, brushing my ribbon unconsciously. “Maybe things will go back to normal.”

Riko and Yuna exchanged a look.

Riko sighed.

Yuna nodded softly.

And somehow… that gentle agreement hurt more than if they’d argued with me.