The roar of the Shanghai crowd was a vibrating, deafening wave of pure adrenaline that rattled right through each cast member on stage.
After each member’s final good-byes, it was time for a final bow to each part of the venue’s circular arena. As the performers walked the stage to wave at the fans, Tanda Hazuki turned for the stairs, and Sasaki Riko sprinted over and pulled her into a hug.
It was a warm hug, the kind that reminded the audience that beneath the ‘We are sumimi’ banner, Tanda Hazuki and Riko were friends. Nearby, Takao Kanon watched the exchange with a warm smile, until she saw her own lover part from the hug only to take Hazuki’s hand.
“…Why isn’t that my hand she’s holding?” She spaced out for a moment, the thought startling her. Riko was waving her over. Shaking her head to clear the ugly feeling, she immediately sprinted towards Riko and gave her a half hug, grabbing her free hand.
The ever so sharp Hazuki, well aware of the circumstances, took this opportunity to unhook her hand from Riko’s and quietly disappear into the backstage as the rest of the Ave Mujica members joined their vocalist and pianist in a chaotic display of warm hugs and laughter.
Three days later, back in the cool, concrete metropolis of Tokyo, Kanon stood inside a heavily soundproofed recording booth. She clutched the voice acting script in her hands so tightly that the edges of the paper were wrinkling.
“Let’s take that line one more time, Takao-san,” the sound director’s voice came through her headphones. “A little more cheerfulness, please. Remember: they were finally reuniting after fifteen years of being apart.”
“Ah… yes! I’m so sorry…” Kanon shook her head, bowing toward the control room window. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
She scolded herself again, taking a deep, shaky breath to recenter.
Earlier that morning, she had come into the agency for a solo voice acting recording session, confident that diving back into work would cure her lingering post-Shanghai slump. Instead, it had been a complete disaster. She stumbled over her lines, her usually perfect enunciation failing her. Every time there was a break, her eyes darted to her bag resting on the studio sofa, wondering if her phone’s screen had lit up.
“Okay, rolling,” the sound director’s voice echoed through her headphones.
Kanon opened her mouth to deliver the cheerful line, but just as she inhaled, her mind viciously forced upon her the image of Riko and Hazuki intertwined hands. That same sick feeling hit her again.
“Finally, I can finally see you once again…!” Kanon delivered the line, but her voice cracked on the final note, the intended cheerfulness coming out thin and wrong.
A heavy silence stretched over the headphones. Kanon squeezed her eyes shut, her face burning with immense shame. She was a professional. She had been doing this for years. To let this petty, one-sided jealousy affect her work was unacceptable.
“Takao-san, are you feeling under the weather?” The sound director asked kindly. “We can take a longer break if you need it.”
“I’m so incredibly sorry,” Kanon bowed deeply to the glass window, even though she knew they could barely see her in the dim booth. “I think I’m just… still struggling with some severe jet lag after the overseas live. I apologize for the inconvenience. Let me try it again.”
She managed to power through the rest of the session through sheer, stubborn willpower, but by the time she finally left the recording studio, she felt completely drained, both physically and emotionally.
Clang.
A harsh, dissonant chord echoed through the quiet of Kanon’s bedroom, an ugly sound that made the afternoon feel suddenly fragile.
Kanon winced at the terrible sound, her fingers freezing on the smooth ivory keys of her grand piano. She let her head drop forward until her forehead rested against the cool wooden music stand, the polished wood pressing against her skin. She let out a long, shuddering sigh.
Music had always been her sanctuary, the safe haven she retreated to whenever she needed to process her emotions. But today, the grand piano offered no comfort. Her timing on the Chopin piece she was attempting was rushed, her dynamics a messy, aggressive blur. Her mind was back in Shanghai, replaying the moment Riko’s hand found someone else’s.
Kanon slowly lifted her head and looked to her right. Her smartphone was resting on the edge of the piano bench, the notification light blinking with a soft, rhythmic pulse.
She reached out and tapped the screen.
“We made it back safely! Let me know when you get home, Non~”
“Good morning! Did you sleep well?”
“Non? Are you feeling okay? You’ve been a little quiet since the live.”
“Are we still on for dinner this weekend? Let me know! 🐶”
The little dog emoji at the end of the last message made Kanon flinch. It looked exactly like the way Riko’s eyes went wide and soft when she was truly worried, a look that made Kanon’s guilty conscience recoil.
“I’m such an idiot,” she whispered to the empty room, her voice cracking.
She knew Riko and Hazuki were a unit. She knew the industry inside and out. If she actually brought it up and admitted she was jealous, Riko would probably look at her in utter confusion before apologizing profusely. And making Riko apologize for doing her job would only make Kanon feel even more guilty, selfish, and pathetic.
But knowing it logically didn’t stop the painful, agonizing squeeze in her chest. Because she loved Riko. She loved her so much that it was starting to genuinely scare her. She didn’t want to share even a fraction of that affection, stage persona or not, with anyone else.
“Ahhhh,” Kanon let out a soft, frustrated whine, tangling her hands in her hair as she leaned forward in a wave of sour agony.
She stood up from the piano bench, abandoning the instrument entirely, and walked over to her bed. She grabbed her giant rabbit plushie, her constant companion since childhood, wrapping her arms tightly around it and squeezing it against her chest as she paced the length of her bedroom. She couldn’t focus on practicing, not when her heart felt this heavy.
She pulled her phone out of her pocket, her thumb hovering over the keyboard.
“I’m sorry, Riko. I’m just being silly and jealous because you held Haachan’s hand.” She imagined pressing send and her entire face flushed a burning crimson at the thought. The sheer embarrassment of it made her want to curl into a ball and hide under her duvet forever.
“I can’t send that!” Kanon squeaked to the empty room, frantically hitting the backspace button until the text box was completely empty again. “We are adults! I can’t be pouty and ignore her over something entirely professional!”
She stopped pacing and took a deep, steadying breath, tightly closing her eyes as she tried to channel her usual polite, unshakable composure.
“Okay. Stop it, Takao Kanon,” she whispered, lightly slapping her own cheeks to snap out of it. “You are overthinking this. Go to the Ave Mujica rehearsal tomorrow, act completely normal, and then apologize for being quiet. Tell her you were just tired from the trip and stressed about your voice acting work.”
It was a solid, mature plan. All she had to do was show up to the studio, sit behind her piano, and play perfectly in sync with her guitar-vocalist, just like they always did.
Surely, she could manage that much… Right?
The air inside the Ave Mujica rehearsal studio was usually thick with an electric, almost magical synergy. Whenever the five of them played together, it was as if an invisible, vibrating thread connected them, pulling them into a shared, perfect rhythm. And at the very center of that intricate web were Kanon and Riko.
Usually, Kanon didn’t even need to look at the sheet music. She could feel the exact moment Riko was going to take a breath before a powerful vocal run. Riko’s intricate guitar riffs wove seamlessly around Kanon’s classical piano melodies, a perfect dance of rock and elegance. They were effortlessly, terrifyingly in sync.
But today, that invisible thread hadn’t just snapped. It had completely unraveled.
“Okay, let’s take it from the chorus one more time,” Riko said gently into the microphone. Her sleek electric guitar was slung across her shoulder, and she tapped her boot against the floor to set the tempo.
Kanon swallowed hard, her throat feeling painfully dry. She kept her eyes glued strictly to the black and white keys of her piano, refusing to look up. Just play normally, she chanted in her head like a desperate mantra. Do not look at her. Just play the music.
Akane clicked her drumsticks together, one, two, three, four, and the heavy instrumental kicked in with a wall of sound.
Kanon’s fingers flew across the keys to execute the complex opening arpeggio, but almost immediately, everything felt wrong. Her heart was beating entirely too fast, and her fingers instinctively matched her anxious pulse. Her tempo was a fraction of a second too quick.
Yuzuki, trying to hold down the foundation on rhythm guitar, was the first to fall out of step. Accustomed to Kanon’s usually flawless timing, Yuzuki immediately got thrown off by Kanon’s rushing. The choppy, syncopated rhythm guitar chords began to clash terribly against the runaway piano melody.
When Riko’s powerful lead vocals joined the mix, the dissonance became glaringly obvious. Kanon heard Riko try to adjust her singing, pulling back on the tempo to match her, but the sudden shift only made Kanon panic more, her fingers instinctively slowing down to compensate.
Mei, attempting to hold the low end on bass, was caught in the musical chaos. Her fingers gracefully tried to bridge the chaotic, widening gap between Yuzuki’s stumbling rhythm guitar and Kanon’s erratic piano, but it was impossible. The foundation was gone.
Mei let out a soft sigh, her fingers stopping their movement across the heavy bass strings entirely.
Clash. Akane hit the crash cymbal entirely off-beat, groaning loudly as she dropped her hands and completely stopped drumming. Yuzuki’s rhythm guitar sputtered to a halt a second later with a sharp, unpleasant screech of feedback.
“Whoa, okay, time out,” Akane sighed, spinning a drumstick between her fingers and leaning back on her stool. “Are we playing some sort of avant-garde jazz remix I didn’t know about? Because we are completely all over the place today.”
“Ah…” Kanon’s hands shot off the piano keys as if the ivory had suddenly turned to burning coals. She ducked her head, heat flooding her cheeks. “I- I’m sorry. That was my fault. I completely rushed the tempo.”
Riko stepped away from her mic stand, letting her lead guitar rest against her hip. Her brow was furrowed in deep, genuine concern. “Non? Are you okay? You’ve been making mistakes since we started. That’s not like you at all. Do your fingers hurt?”
Hearing Riko’s gentle, incredibly worried voice only made the guilt sitting in Kanon’s chest ten times heavier. Kanon finally risked a glance. Seeing Riko’s beautiful, sharp eyes filled with nothing but pure concern for her made Kanon want to burst into tears right then and there. Her stupid, petty jealousy over sumimi was ruining their Ave Mujica practice. She was being incredibly unprofessional.
“I’m fine,” Kanon lied quickly, her voice a little too high as she forced a stiff, unconvincing smile. “I think I’m just… still a little jet-lagged from the trip. And I had a really frustrating solo recording session at the agency earlier today. My head is just a bit cloudy.”
Mei set her bass down securely on its stand. She observed Kanon with a calm, penetrating gaze that made Kanon feel like her soul was being read. “If you aren’t feeling well, Kanon-chan, we should absolutely end practice early today. Forcing ourselves to play when our minds are elsewhere will only cause bad habits.”
“I totally agree with Meishan,” Yuzuki chimed in, adjusting the strap of her rhythm guitar and offering Kanon a sympathetic pout. “We don’t have another live scheduled for a bit anyway! You should go home and rest, Nontan!”
“I… I’m really sorry, everyone. I’m so sorry,” Kanon said, her hands trembling slightly as she quickly gathered her sheet music, stuffing it hastily into her bag. The air in the soundproofed room suddenly felt entirely too suffocating. She needed to leave.
“I’ll walk you to the station, Non,” Riko offered immediately, already reaching up to unstrap her guitar.
“No!” Kanon blurted out.
The entire room went dead silent. The harsh, panicked edge to Kanon’s voice echoed off the acoustic foam. Kanon flinched violently at her own tone, her eyes widening in horror.
“I mean…” Kanon stammered, taking a step backward toward the heavy studio door. “You don’t have to, Riko. I’m just going to go straight home and sleep it off. I wouldn’t want to ruin your afternoon too. I’ll see you all later.”
Without waiting for a response, Kanon pushed the heavy door open and fled the studio.
Left behind in the rehearsal room, Sasaki Riko stared at the closed door. Kanon’s panicked rejection felt like a physical slap.
“Did I do something wrong?” Riko muttered softly into the silence. Her guitar slipped from her grip, the strap catching on her shoulder as the heavy instrument rested awkwardly against her hip.
She replayed the entire week in her head. They had a phenomenal time in Shanghai! The joint live was a massive success, they ate amazing food, and she was certain Kanon had been smiling the whole time. But now, Kanon was practically running away from her in terror.
Unable to take the agonizing, stomach-churning uncertainty any longer, Riko quickly pulled her smartphone out of her pocket. She quickly typed up a text to a group chat, and pressed send.
“Need help. Family Restaurant near the rehearsal studio. I’ll pay for the parfaits. Please.”
It didn’t take long for the cavalry to arrive. Akane and Yuzuki slid into the booth across from Riko with chaotic synchronicity, while Mei gracefully took the seat next to her. Coco, who happened to be in the area, was summoned by the promise of free food and took a seat on the edge of the booth.
“Alright, Riko, spill the beans,” Coco said, expertly stabbing her straw into her iced ginger ale. “You look like a kicked puppy out in the rain. What happened with Nontan?”
Riko slumped forward, hiding her face in her arms against the cool laminate of the table. “She’s ignoring me. She’s been giving me one-word answers, she left me on read yesterday, she wouldn’t even look at me during practice, and you all saw what just happened! I think I’m being broken up with before we even reach our first anniversary.”
“Ehhh?!” Yuzuki gasped loudly, drawing the annoyed attention of a nearby waiter. “No way! Nontan loves you! Did you cheat on her?!”
“Yuzuki, keep your voice down, please,” Mei chided softly, gently placing a hand over Yuzuki’s mouth.
“I didn’t do anything!” Riko whined miserably, lifting her head just enough to pout at her friends. “At least, not something I am aware of…”
A bewildered silence fell over the table. “You’ve got nothing?” Akane finally asked, her usual joking tone gone. When Riko shook her head, she felt a fresh wave of despair and continued her explanation.
“Everything was totally fine in Shanghai! I’ve been trying to ask her out for a romantic dinner I planned this weekend, but she’s completely shutting me out, so I cancelled it.”
Akane crossed her arms over her chest, nodding sagely as if she were an ancient relationship guru. “It’s obvious. She realized that your dad jokes are actually a massive red flag and she wants someone who can give her actual puns.”
“My dad joke puns are top tier!” Riko deadpanned, glaring weakly at the drummer.
“Okay, let’s be serious for two seconds,” Coco interrupted, waving a hand to dismiss Akane’s theory. “Think back, Riko. Really think. Was there a specific moment in Shanghai where she looked upset? Did anything happen after Ave Mujica’s set?”
Riko closed her eyes and thought hard. “No… I mean, she was smiling so much. Especially during the final group encore song. She looked so pretty playing the piano while I…” Riko trailed off, her eyes snapping open as a memory suddenly surfaced.
Mei took a slow, elegant sip of her water. “While you…?”
“While I was performing the encore with Haachan,” Riko finished slowly.
Mei gave a soft, knowing smile, setting her glass down gently. “Just an observation but… you and Haachan are sumimi. Your dynamic as a unit is very physical, very bright, and very different from Ave Mujica. During that last song, you two were quite… affectionate on stage, weren’t you?”
Akane gasped dramatically, slamming both hands onto the table. “The hand-holding! You held Haachan’s hand and raised it up in front of thousands of people, including your own girlfriend!”
“I- It was just stage directions!” Riko stammered, feeling an intense heat rise to her cheeks. “That’s just sumimi fanservice, our idol dynamic! Non knows that! She’s a professional, too!”
“Professional or not, she’s still a person. And right now, that person is running from you like her hair’s on fire.” Coco pointed out ruthlessly, taking another sip of ginger ale. “Riko, she’s jealous. She’s the pianist of your rock band, but Haachan is your partner in your idol unit. Nontan is incredibly polite and sweet. She’s probably way too embarrassed to admit she’s jealous of her.”
The realization struck Riko with the force of a feedback blast directly into her ear monitors. Non… was jealous of sumimi? A strange, overwhelming mix of massive relief and profound fondness bloomed in her chest, chasing away the fear of a breakup. If Kanon was jealous, it meant she still cared. It meant she wanted Riko all to herself.
“I need a second opinion,” Riko declared, abruptly standing up from the booth and grabbing her jacket. “From the source.”
“Hey! You haven’t ordered our parfaits yet!” Akane and Yuzuki protested in unison.
“Thank you, Meishan, you’re an absolute angel!” Riko bowed quickly, tossing a ten-thousand-yen bill onto the table before darting out of the family restaurant.
Her destination was a quiet, upscale cafe a few blocks away. She had desperately texted Hazuki the moment Mei brought up the hand-holding, and her sumimi partner was already sitting by the window, leisurely sipping a caramel latte when Riko practically crashed into the chair across from her.
“So,” Hazuki started with an amused, completely unapologetic smile after Riko frantically explained Coco and Mei’s theory. “Let me get this straight. You hugged me and held my hand on stage, and now your very sweet, very polite girlfriend is giving you the cold shoulder because she’s jealous?”
“It sounds incredibly bad when you summarize it like that,” Riko groaned, burying her face in her hands.
Hazuki chuckled—a bright, melodic sound. She leaned across the table and reached over to lightly pat Riko’s shoulder. “She’s probably just overwhelmed, Riko. It’s totally normal. I don’t know her very well, but from what I can tell, she cherishes you a lot, and cares about you a lot.”
“That’s… Is that really what it looks like?” Riko frowned. “I feel like I haven’t been considerate of her at all.”
“This is just a guess, but if she’s dwelling on this all by herself, I’m sure she needs you. Maybe it’s time you take action, Riko-chan.” Hazuki smiled at her.
***
After fleeing the studio, Kanon didn’t go to the train station. She walked aimlessly through the streets of Tokyo instead, trying to outpace the adrenaline and guilt. She had yelled at the person she loved most, all because she was too proud to admit her own stupid insecurities. Now, as the cool autumn wind whipped her skirt around her knees, she found herself standing outside a warm cafe. A popular one that she and Riko went to when they were just getting to know each other.
“I need to fix this,” Kanon decided, stopping on the sidewalk and taking a deep breath. “I’m acting like a child. I’ll go buy a nice box of sweets, a fresh strawberry tart, her favorite, and I’ll march right over to Riko’s place and apologize.”
Near the famous fruit tart shop, she glanced into the large glass windows of a popular cafe next door.
She stopped dead in her tracks.
Sitting at a table right near the window was a very familiar, beautiful head of blonde hair. Riko. A jolt of pure happiness went through Kanon’s chest. What were the odds of running into her here? She immediately took a hopeful step forward, raising her hand to tap on the glass and call out to her.
But the words died instantly in her throat as she saw exactly who was sitting across the table.
It was her. Tanda Hazuki.
They were leaning closely over the small cafe table, and Riko was laughing that bright, carefree laugh that Kanon loved so much. Hazuki smiled warmly, reaching over the table to lightly pat Riko’s shoulder affectionately.
The rational, logical part of Kanon’s brain tried to tell her they were just catching up. They were coworkers.
The image of the sumimi performance, their hands locked together under bright lights, superimposed itself over Hazuki’s hand on Riko’s shoulder. That same off-key feeling from rehearsal hit her again, worse now. Her stomach dropped.
“Ah…” Kanon gasped, taking a stumbling step back. Her chest tightened so painfully she could barely draw a breath. She quickly turned around, desperate to retreat before either of them looked out the window and saw her standing there, watching them like a pathetic, jealous stalker.
In her hasty, tear-blinded pivot, Kanon wasn’t looking where she was going. She bumped hard into a tall businessman rushing past in a thick trench coat.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” she gasped, bowing quickly.
The sudden impact jostled her purse. Her smartphone slipped from her shallow coat pocket. She lunged for it, her fingertips brushing the sleek, glittery case, but it was already gone, falling just beyond her reach.
It hit the hard pavement face down with a sickening smack.
CRACK.
Kanon stared down at the concrete. The screen of her phone was completely shattered, a massive, irreparable spiderweb of broken glass completely obscuring the black display. She fell to her knees, picking up the lifeless device and pressing the power button with a trembling finger.
Nothing. Not even a flicker of light.
“No…” Kanon whispered, a hot tear splashing onto the shattered glass. It was over. Her one line to Riko, her only way to fix this, was gone. She was the one who pushed Riko away.
She stumbled home, the broken phone clutched in her pocket like a dead thing. By morning, it had stopped responding entirely.
“It was all her fault.”
Kanon didn’t go to rehearsal the next day. Or the day after. She told her manager she was sick, which wasn’t entirely a lie, and spent forty-eight hours in her childhood bedroom, staring at the ceiling and avoiding her mother’s concerned glances.
***
Between a hellish work schedule and failed attempts to bribe Kanon’s unyielding manager, Sasaki Riko had spent forty-eight hours in a state of vibrating, low-level panic.
She was currently pacing the length of her living room, her smartphone clutched so tightly in her hand that her knuckles were white. Every thirty seconds, her thumb would instinctively swipe down to refresh her message app, hoping against hope that the little “Read” icon next to her last five messages to Kanon would miraculously transform into a typing bubble.
It never did.
“I’m a disaster,” Riko groaned, throwing herself face-first onto her couch. “I’ve managed to hurt the one person who makes my music mean anything. I’m a terrible guitarist, a terrible vocalist, and an even worse girlfriend.”
Unable to stand the silence of her own apartment any longer, she hit the speed dial for the one person who might actually understand the mess she’d made.
“Rikochi? While it’s not odd for us to call each other at eleven, I know this is different.” Mei’s voice came through the line, sounding remarkably calm despite the late hour. “Is the world ending, or did you just think of a really bad pun you needed to share?”
“It’s Non,” Riko practically whined into the receiver. “She’s still not replying. I haven’t heard from her since the rehearsal disaster. Meishan, what if she realized I’m just an idiot with a guitar and decided she wants someone more serious?”
Mei let out a long, patient sigh. “Rikochi, listen to me. She isn’t looking for a partner. She’s looking for you. But right now, she’s probably stuck in her own head, thinking she’s being ‘immature’ for feeling jealous. You know how she is. She’s very serious about everything, and that definitely includes you.”
“I’ve been so thoughtless, so inconsiderate of her.” Riko sat up, her eyes wide. “I was just… in the moment. In the zone.”
“Exactly,” Mei replied firmly. “And that’s what you need to tell her. You need to show her that it didn’t really mean anything, but what you have with her is real life. Stop texting her. You’re just giving her more screen time to overthink. Go to her house. Bring flowers, not the flashy idol ones. Something soft, like her.”
Riko felt a spark of hope reignite in her chest. “Soft flowers. Right. Like the pink roses she liked at the flower shop near the station.”
“Exactly. Now go to sleep, Rikochi. You look like a mess when you haven’t slept, and you need to look your best if you’re going to win back the moon in your sky.”
Riko hung up, a newfound determination settling over her. She spent the rest of the night planning, not pacing. She navigated the Roppongi restaurant’s booking site with the intensity of someone defusing a bomb, finally securing a table for two. She was going to fix this. And she was going to fix it NOW.
For two agonizing days, Kanon was completely isolated. With her phone shattered and its replacement still on its way, she was severed from the world. She couldn’t check messages, lose herself in social media, or—most importantly—reach out to Riko. Borrowing her mother’s phone was unthinkable; admitting she was in a petty, jealous fight was too mortifying, like confessing she was the childish person she feared she was.
So, she wallowed.
Kanon lay face-down on her bed, her giant rabbit plushie serving as a makeshift pillow for her misery. She had spent the entire weekend feeling like a deflated, useless balloon. She was entirely convinced Riko hated her by now. Riko was probably tired of the silence, tired of the weird, awful behavior at the rehearsal, and was currently figuring out how to politely break up with her.
Kanon squeezed the ears of her giant rabbit plushie, burying her nose into its soft, synthetic fur. Usually, the plushie smelled faintly of lavender laundry detergent, but today, all she could think about was the scent of Riko’s perfume—that sharp, citrusy note that always seemed to linger on Kanon’s clothes after they hugged.
“You’re probably right, aren’t you?” Kanon whispered to the rabbit’s glass eyes. “Riko’s at rehearsal right now, laughing with everyone. Maybe she’s better off without me. My timing was so bad, I probably made her guitar sound terrible.”
She rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. The silence of her room felt heavy, almost physical.
“I miss her voice,” Kanon admitted out loud, the confession echoing in the quiet space. “I miss the way she says ‘Non’ when she’s excited. I miss the way her fingers look when she’s adjusting her guitar strap. I even miss those awful, terrible puns she makes when she’s trying to make me smile.”
She thought about the sumimi performance again, but this time, the jealousy was tinged with a deep, aching loneliness. She realized she wasn’t just jealous of Hazuki. She was jealous of the ease of it. Riko was so bright, so effortless. Kanon, by comparison, felt like a complicated piece of sheet music, too difficult for anyone to bother reading.
“I should just apologize,” she told the rabbit. “I’ll tell her my phone broke, and I’ll tell her I’m a fool. I’ll tell her that I’m the moon, and I’m nothing without her light.”
She reached out, tracing the spiderweb cracks on her broken phone screen. It was shattered, but she knew the memories were still trapped inside.
Downstairs, the doorbell chimed.
Kanon didn’t move. She just pulled the floppy ears of the rabbit plushie tighter over her own ears. A few moments later, she heard the soft, muffled sound of footsteps on the stairs, followed by her bedroom door creaking open.
“Mom, I told you, I really don’t want any apples right now…” Kanon mumbled into the plushie, her voice thick and raspy from threatening tears.
“It’s not Mom,” a soft, achingly familiar voice called out. “And I don’t have apples, but I do have flowers?”
Kanon froze. Her heart stopped completely in her chest for one terrifying second, and then immediately kick-started into a frantic, hammering rhythm. She scrambled up, tossing the plushie aside, her hair an absolute mess and her eyes wide with absolute shock.
Standing in her doorway, looking incredibly handsome in a tailored, dark winter coat and holding a small, beautifully wrapped bouquet of pastel pink roses, was Sasaki Riko.
“R- Riko?!” Kanon gasped, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. Her cheeks instantly flared into a deep, burning shade of crimson. “Wh- What are you doing here?”
Riko stepped inside, her shoulders slumping the moment she saw Kanon. The tension she’d been carrying all day seemed to drain out of her, replaced by a warm, incredibly tender smile that softened her sharp eyes.
“Takao-mama said your phone broke,” she breathed, the words themselves a sigh of relief. “Non, I can’t even tell you… I’m so glad you’re okay.”
Kanon looked down at her lap, her fingers twisting nervously into the fabric of her oversized sweater. The guilt was suffocating. Yes, her phone was broken, but she had been ignoring Riko before that. The jealousy over sumimi still lingered in the back of her mind like a stubborn, dark cloud, making it hard to look Riko in the eye.
“I came to ask you in person,” Riko continued gently, stepping right up to the edge of the bed and holding out the beautiful roses. “I know we had a really weird rehearsal, and I know you’ve been super stressed with your solo work. But the winter illuminations just started down by the bay, and I have a reservation at a really nice place tonight. Will you come with me, Non? Please?”
Kanon looked at the delicate pink roses, and then slowly looked up into Riko’s hopeful, fiercely sincere eyes. The urge to cry returned, but this time, it was out of pure affection. Even when Kanon was being difficult and running away, Riko was here, reaching out, trying to make her smile.
“Okay,” Kanon whispered, accepting the flowers with trembling hands, their fingers briefly brushing. “Let me… let me just get dressed.”
An hour of nervous energy and careful outfit selection later, Kanon stepped out into the cool, crisp winter air of Tokyo, the city’s hum a welcome distraction as it brushed against her cheeks.
Stepping out of her gloomy bedroom was like waking from a bad dream. The bay area, transformed by the winter illuminations, glittered with a hope she hadn’t felt in days. Millions of tiny lights draped over the trees in waves of gold and ice-blue, their reflections shimmering on the dark water, a breathtaking, brilliant world that Riko had pulled her back into.
Kanon was bundled up in a thick, cream-colored coat and a soft pastel scarf, walking shoulder-to-shoulder with Riko. Riko had effortlessly slipped her hand into Kanon’s coat pocket, intertwining their fingers where the biting cold wind couldn’t reach them.
“It’s beautiful,” Kanon breathed, watching her own breath turn into a cloud of white mist in the chilly air.
“It really is,” Riko agreed. But when Kanon turned to look at her, Riko wasn’t looking at the millions of sparkling lights at all. She was looking right at Kanon, her gaze intensely fond.
Kanon ducked her head, a shy, hesitant smile breaking through her lingering guilt. The physical warmth of Riko’s hand in hers was slowly thawing the ice in her chest, but she still felt stiff. The memory of Hazuki holding that exact same hand was a stubborn splinter in her heart.
Riko immediately noticed the slight stiffness in Kanon’s posture. She gently squeezed Kanon’s fingers inside the coat pocket, leaning in a little closer as they walked.
“I really missed playing with you,” Riko murmured, her voice a low, comforting rumble that went straight to Kanon’s heart. “When you ran out of the studio… the room felt completely empty. Even with the others there, the music just wasn’t right without my pianist.”
Kanon’s breath hitched. She looked down at the pavement, her heart doing a complicated flutter. “I ruined the rehearsal…”
“You didn’t ruin anything,” Riko countered immediately, stopping their walk for a brief moment to look at her. “Non, your piano is the only thing that grounds my guitar. Without you, I’m just making noise. You’re the only one who can match my breathing, the only one who understands my rhythm perfectly. Nobody else can do that.”
The sweet, incredibly earnest reassurance sent a rush of heat to Kanon’s cheeks. Riko was showering her with heartfelt words, as if she knew they would perfectly mend Kanon’s bruised feelings. The tight, ugly knot of jealousy in Kanon’s stomach loosened significantly.
Before Kanon could find words for the warmth blooming in her chest, the sound of paws scrabbling on pavement and a joyful, energetic bark cut through the air.
“Ah! Ui, wait! Don’t pull so hard!”
Kanon and Riko turned in surprise to see a woman elegantly dressed in winter attire, struggling to hold onto the taut leash of a large, incredibly excited golden retriever. The dog’s tail was wagging so hard its entire back half was practically vibrating.
“Oh, Saki-san?” Riko blinked in surprise, immediately recognizing the woman at the end of the leash. It was an acquaintance they occasionally ran into in the music industry.
“Sasaki-san! Takao-san! Good evening,” Saki greeted them, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face with a polite, slightly exhausted smile. “I’m so sorry to interrupt your walk. Ui absolutely loves the lights, and she gets a bit overexcited when there are so many people around.”
“She’s absolutely gorgeous,” Riko gasped, her eyes lighting up with a brilliant, focused intensity. Kanon knew all about Riko’s love for dogs. It was practically legendary among the Ave Mujica members. She immediately crouched down to the dog’s eye level, completely ignoring the cold concrete. “Can I pet her?”
“Of course,” Saki nodded with a soft laugh.
Ui didn’t need to be told twice. The golden retriever immediately bounded forward, burying her soft, fluffy blonde head directly into Riko’s chest. Riko let out a delighted, ringing laugh, ruffling the dog’s thick fur and expertly scratching her right behind the ears.
“Who’s a good girl? You are! Yes, you are!” Riko cooed, her own energy a perfect match for the dog’s boundless affection. Ui panted happily, excitedly licking Riko’s cheek, and Riko just laughed, her eyes crinkling with the same pure joy shining in the retriever’s.
Kanon stood a few steps back, her hands tucked into her pockets, watching the interaction with wide eyes. She looked at the dog’s bright, energetic personality, its big, adoring eyes, and its fluffy blonde hair. Then, she looked at Riko, who possessed the exact same bright, magnetic energy, the exact same expressive eyes, and the exact same shade of blonde hair.
The similarity was simply too perfect to ignore.
“You know,” Kanon started, a small, genuine giggle finally bubbling up in her chest, breaking through the last remnants of her foul mood. “You two look exactly alike.”
Riko paused her aggressive petting and looked up at Kanon, blinking innocently. “Eh? Me and Ui?”
“Yes,” Kanon nodded, a teasing, affectionate smirk finding its way to her pink lips. “You’re both very energetic, you both have blonde hair, and you both get very easily distracted when someone gives you a little bit of attention.”
Saki quickly covered her mouth with her gloved hand, clearly trying very hard to suppress a polite, amused laugh.
Instead of being embarrassed by the teasing, Riko broke into a massive, charming grin. She leaned into the joke perfectly. Looking up at Kanon from her crouched position on the ground, Riko tilted her head to the side, widened her eyes, and let out a soft, playful bark.
“Woof!”
Kanon completely lost it. A genuine laugh, clear and ringing, finally broke free from her chest. The sound seemed to chase away the worst of the shadows that had hovered over her for the past five days. Her shoulders shook as she laughed, truly laughed, for the first time since before they left for Shanghai.
Seeing Kanon finally laugh like that, Riko’s expression softened into one of pure relief and absolute adoration. She stood back up, brushing some stray dog hair off her stylish coat.
After wishing Sakiko and Ui a safe and happy evening, the two of them continued their walk along the brilliantly illuminated promenade. The earlier tension between them was gone, replaced by the comfortable, easy affection that had always defined them.
They eventually stopped near a quiet section of the metal railing that overlooked the dark, vast expanse of the bay. Above them, the winter sky was crisp and clear, allowing a few bright stars to pierce through Tokyo’s heavy light pollution, sitting alongside a beautiful, pale crescent moon.
Riko leaned against the railing, exhaling a puff of white mist as she looked up at the night sky. She gently reached out, taking Kanon’s hand once again, this time entirely out in the open.
“It’s peaceful here,” Riko murmured softly. She turned her head to look at Kanon, her expression turning surprisingly serious. “You know, when we’re performing as Ave Mujica, everyone always talks about the lore. About the moon and the stars.”
Kanon stepped a fraction closer, resting her free arm on the railing so their shoulders brushed. “Yeah. We’re all deeply connected in that universe.”
“But even outside of that stage universe,” Riko said, her thumb tracing slow, soothing circles on Kanon’s skin. “I feel like that applies to us, too. You’re my moon, Non.” The words were quiet, but they landed with the force of a tidal wave. “You’re the beautiful, constant light that guides me. Without you, I’d just be a chaotic mess.”
Kanon’s breath caught in her throat. Her heart swelled so much it felt like it might literally burst through her ribcage. She looked down at their joined hands, noting how perfectly her smaller fingers fit against Riko’s calloused ones.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking the past few days,” Riko continued, her voice incredibly gentle. She turned to fully face Kanon. “I’ve been thinking a lot about you. The Shanghai performance, and how you would have felt. I was so caught up in the sumimi performance that I didn’t even think about how it would look to you.”
Kanon’s eyes widened in surprise. Riko was addressing it directly.
“Non,” Riko said, taking a deliberate step closer. “Sumimi is my job. Haachan is my coworker. That dynamic is for the stage. But this?” She squeezed Kanon’s hand, pressing it over her heart. Its frantic beat echoed her own. “This is my reality. You are the only person I want to hold hands with when the lights go down. Because I love you.”
Kanon gulped. The words landed clean and true, and something in her chest finally settled.
Fresh, incredibly happy tears pricked at the corners of Kanon’s eyes. She didn’t feel angry anymore. She didn’t feel jealous. She just felt overwhelmingly, completely loved. She knew she still needed to formally apologize for acting so silly and breaking her phone, but she didn’t want to ruin this perfect moment with apologies just yet.
“You’re the star,” Kanon whispered back, her voice trembling slightly with emotion as she looked up into Riko’s eyes. “You’re so bright, Riko. And… I’m so happy that your light belongs to me.”
Riko smiled, a devastatingly beautiful, relieved expression. She lifted Kanon’s hand, pressing a tender, lingering kiss to her knuckles.
“Now,” Riko said, her playful, energetic demeanor returning as she gently tugged on Kanon’s hand, leading her away from the railing. “Are you ready to get out of the cold? I promised you a very fancy, very adult dinner, and I fully intend to deliver.”
Kanon nodded, rapidly wiping a stray tear from her eye with her free hand, a brilliant, excited smile lighting up her face. “Lead the way, my golden retriever.”
“Hey!” Riko laughed, though she pulled Kanon closer as they walked toward the city lights, perfectly in sync once again.
The restaurant Riko had reserved was a world away from their usual casual family restaurants or post-rehearsal convenience store runs. It was an upscale, incredibly chic wine bar nestled in a quiet, sophisticated district of Roppongi. Dim, warm lighting reflected off the polished mahogany tables, and a soft, rhythmic jazz melody floated through the air, completely insulating them from the biting winter chill outside.
Kanon, having shed her heavy coat to reveal a sleek, off-the-shoulder pastel dress, sat perfectly straight in her plush velvet chair. She felt a little underdressed for the sheer elegance of the venue, but when she looked across the table, Riko was staring at her like she was the most breathtaking thing in the entire room.
“Is the atmosphere okay?” Riko asked, leaning across the small table with a charming, albeit slightly nervous, smile. “I know we usually just do something casual, but I really wanted to treat you tonight to celebrate us finally making up.”
“It’s beautiful, Riko,” Kanon replied, her heart fluttering excitedly. She still felt a pang of guilt about the last few days of silence, but the sheer relief of having Riko sitting across from her, knowing definitively that Riko’s heart belonged entirely to her, melted any remaining anxieties away. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
A smartly dressed sommelier approached their table, presenting a chilled bottle of white wine with a practiced flourish. “For the ladies, a Sauvignon Blanc. It features crisp notes of green apple, white peach, and a delicate hint of honey. Excellent for a celebratory evening.”
As the pale, golden liquid was poured into their elegant, long-stemmed glasses, Kanon felt a quiet surge of determination. She had trained for this! Her nights of secretly drinking sweet canned cocktails in her room were going to pay off right here, right now. She was going to prove that she could be a sophisticated adult who could share a classy drink with her incredibly cool girlfriend.
“Cheers,” Riko said softly, gently clinking her glass against Kanon’s.
“Cheers!” Kanon smiled brightly. She brought the glass to her lips and took a very confident sip.
The wine was entirely different from the sugary, juice-like Horoyoi she was used to. It was dry, incredibly smooth, and left a pleasant, floral warmth dancing down her throat. It was definitely stronger, but she found she actually really liked it.
“Oh, this is really good,” Kanon noted, her eyes widening in pleasant surprise. To prove her newfound tolerance, she took another, much larger sip.
Riko blinked, her eyebrows raising slightly in surprise. “Careful, Non. Wine is a lot stronger than those 3% cans you told me about. You should pace yourself, or it’ll hit you all at once.”
“I’m fine!” Kanon protested cutely, puffing her cheeks out in a small pout. “I’ve been practicing, remember? I’m a strong drinker now! Look!” To prove her point, she took another generous gulp, draining half the delicate glass in under a minute.
“Non…” Riko laughed softly, resting her chin on her hand as she watched her girlfriend with utter, undivided adoration. “You don’t have to show off for me.”
“I’m not showing off, I’m just appreciating the fine notes of… um… white peach!” Kanon declared stubbornly.
Despite her brave words, it didn’t take long for the alcohol to do exactly what Riko had predicted. By the time they finished their delicate plates of beef carpaccio and Kanon had cheerfully accepted a second glass of wine, her ‘strong drinker’ facade was rapidly crumbling. The alcohol hit her system with a familiar, fuzzy warmth, making her limbs feel deliciously heavy and completely dissolving her usual polite inhibitions.
The cab ride back to Riko’s apartment was a blur of Kanon leaning heavily against Riko’s shoulder, giggling softly at the passing streetlights and refusing to let go of Riko’s arm.
They were just fixing their bags before climbing up to Riko’s building when a familiar, boisterous voice echoed from the street below.
“Rikochi? Nontan? Is that you?”
Riko turned, still steadying Kanon with one arm, to see three figures waving enthusiastically from the sidewalk. Yonezawa Akane was practically bouncing on her heels, her arm linked with Watase Yuzuki’s, while Okada Mei brought up the rear with a more measured wave, though her eyes lit up with recognition.
“Meishan! Yuzu! Akanen!” Riko called back, unable to keep the surprise from her voice. “What are you all doing here?”
“We just finished dinner at that new izakaya down the block!” Akane shouted back, already dragging the others toward the stairs. “Come join us for round two! We have beer, horoyoi, and strong zero!”
Kanon, still pleasantly fuzzy from the wine, perked up at the mention of her friends. “Horoyoi?” she repeated, her voice carrying that particular, dangerous enthusiasm of someone who had already had enough but didn’t realize it yet.
Riko hesitated, glancing at Kanon’s flushed cheeks. “Non’s had quite a bit of wine already…”
“Perfect!” Akane declared, having reached them. She looped her arm through Kanon’s free one with the easy affection of old friends. “The more the merrier! Come on, Rikoooo, don’t be a party pooper. We haven’t all hung out together in ages!”
Mei’s eyes flicked between Riko and Kanon. She saw how Riko’s hand lingered at Kanon’s waist and how Kanon leaned into her touch with absolute trust. It was the same way they always stood, but something was different tonight, a tension that was both resolved and expectant. Mei filed the observation away, her curiosity piqued.
“Just for a little while,” Mei suggested, her tone casual but her gaze assessing. She caught Yuzuki’s eye, then Akane’s, and something in her expression communicated what words didn’t. “We can walk back to your place together, Rikochi. It’s on the way.”
Riko couldn’t find a graceful way to refuse without raising suspicion, and Kanon was already being herded along by Akane’s infectious energy. With a small sigh and a private smile at Kanon’s delighted expression, Riko relented.
“Alright. But just one drink.”
Thirty minutes later, Riko’s living room was filled with the warm chaos of friends. Empty beer cans and snack wrappers littered the coffee table. Akane had claimed the floor cushions and was dramatically recounting some story about a disastrous recording session, while Yuzu laughed into her hand beside her. Mei sat on the arm of the couch, nursing her beer with the practiced patience of someone who knew how to pace herself.
Kanon had migrated from the wine’s gentle haze to beer’s more boisterous buzz, her cheeks flushed a deep pink as she giggled at Akane’s exaggerated gestures. She sat curled against Riko’s side on the couch, their thighs pressed together, her hand resting casually on Riko’s knee.
Riko had kept her drinking minimal, her attention split between the conversation and the warm weight of Kanon against her. Every time Kanon laughed, she squeezed Riko’s knee slightly, and every squeeze sent a small spark of electricity up Riko’s spine.
Mei watched them with the subtle focus of a director observing a scene. She saw the way Riko’s hand kept drifting to Kanon’s lower back, both protective and possessive, and how Kanon’s eyes sought Riko’s after every joke for her reaction. There was even a faint tension in Riko’s shoulders, a sense that she was simultaneously content and… waiting.
There was something unresolved between them. Meishan could read it in the careful way they touched each other, as if they were both holding back from something bigger.
“Alright, alright,” Mei said suddenly, setting down her beer with a decisive clink. She stood, stretching with deliberate casualness. “I think that’s enough excitement for one night. Akanen, Yuzu, let’s head out. Some of us have early calls tomorrow.”
Akane pouted dramatically. “But Meishaaan, we just got here!”
“And we’ve had our fun.” Mei’s tone brooked no argument, though her smile remained warm. She caught Yuzu’s eye, then Akane’s, conveying a silent, unarguable message. “Let’s let Rikochi and Nontan get some rest. They’ve had a long week.”
Yuzu, ever perceptive, caught on immediately. “She’s right. Come on, Akanen. We’ll grab ramen on the way home.”
Akane grumbled but allowed herself to be pulled up, swaying slightly. “Fine, fine. Thanks for having us, Rikochi! Nontan, don’t drink any more, okay? You’re already super red!”
The group headed for the entrance. As Yuzuki, Akane, and Mei stepped out into the hallway, Riko and Kanon stood in the open doorway to say their final goodbyes.
Kanon waved them off with a giggle, leaning more heavily into Riko as the goodbyes stretched on. Mei was the last to leave, pausing at the doorway to look back at them while Akane and Yuzuki chattered away down the hallway.
“Talk to each other,” Mei said quietly, her voice low enough that only Riko caught it. “You’ve got this.”
Riko nodded with determination. As they lingered in the open doorway, she missed the soft click of the auto lock disengaging.
The silence that followed was immediate and heavy. Kanon blinked, looking up at Riko with slightly unfocused but earnest eyes. “They’re nice,” she murmured. “I like it when everyone comes over.”
Riko’s heart ached with fondness. “Yeah,” she said softly. “They’re good friends.” She helped Kanon back inside, letting the door shut softly behind them.
She helped Kanon to her feet, steadying her as they made their way toward the bedroom. The apartment felt suddenly larger without the others, the air between them charged with everything left unsaid.
“Riko?” Kanon’s voice was small, vulnerable.
“Yes, Non?”
“I’m sorry I was jealous,” Kanon whispered, the alcohol loosening her tongue. “About Haachan. I know it was stupid. I just… I wanted to be the one holding your hand.”
Riko stopped in the hallway of her home, turning to face Kanon fully. The confession hung between them, fragile and honest.
“Non…” Riko reached up, cupping Kanon’s face in her hands. “You have nothing to apologize for. I should have been more aware. I should have realized how it would look to you.” She brushed her thumb across Kanon’s cheekbone, her touch gentle. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I never want you to feel like you’re not my priority.”
Kanon’s eyes glistened, the wine and emotion mixing to make her feel raw and exposed. “I love you,” she whispered. “So much it scares me sometimes.”
“I love you too,” Riko breathed. “So much.”
“Alright, you’ve been brave enough for one night,” Riko teased while she carefully guided Kanon into the dimly lit living room, easing her down onto the soft couch. Kanon sank into the cushions with a happy sigh, immediately reaching her arms back out towards Riko.
“Come here,” Kanon commanded softly. Her voice was stripped of its usual shyness, replaced by a tipsy, demanding sweetness that sent a shiver straight down Riko’s spine.
Riko knelt by the edge of the couch, brushing a stray lock of dark hair behind Kanon’s ear. The heat radiating from Kanon’s flushed cheeks was palpable against Riko’s cool fingers. Riko’s gaze naturally dropped to Kanon’s soft, pink lips. The desire to kiss her was overwhelming, a physical ache in her chest after a week of terrifying distance.
But Riko hesitated. She swallowed hard, pulling her hand back slightly. “Non… you’ve had a lot to drink.”
Kanon’s brow furrowed, a flash of determination breaking through the alcohol haze. She didn’t want to talk anymore. She was so tired of her own insecurities, and right now, she just wanted to feel close to the woman she loved. She wanted to erase the memory of Shanghai and replace it with this exact moment.
“Don’t hold back,” Kanon whispered, her eyes turning up to meet Riko’s with a bold, uncompromising gaze. Her hand reached out, her fingers curling into the fabric of Riko’s coat with a surprising strength. “I don’t want you to hold back tonight.”
Riko let out a shaky breath, all her restraint snapping in an instant. “You’re so unfair, Non.”
Riko leaned down, capturing Kanon’s lips in a kiss that erased the whole week of distance, a kiss that was less about sweetness and more about a desperate, hungry relief. Kanon let out a soft, contented hum, tangling her fingers into Riko’s blonde hair as she pulled her closer. The taste of crisp white wine and sweet honey lingered between them. Riko shifted her weight, pressing Kanon back against the cushions as she climbed halfway onto the couch, hovering over her.
The kiss grew heated, slow, and intoxicating. Kanon parted her lips, gasping softly as Riko deepened the kiss, the sensation sending fireworks of heat blooming across Kanon’s chest. Kanon felt like she was floating. This was exactly where she belonged. Right here, pressed against the couch, entirely engulfed in Riko’s warmth.
Riko’s hand slid up, slow and deliberate, tracing the curve of Kanon’s thigh beneath the soft fabric of her skirt. Kanon’s breath caught, her whole body tensing with anticipation as she felt the heat of Riko’s palm against her bare skin. Riko’s fingers inched higher, brushing along the inside of Kanon’s thigh, making her gasp softly and squirm against the cushions.
“Riko…” Kanon breathed, her voice barely more than a whimper. She wanted to say something smart, something bold, or a pun, but all she could manage was Riko’s name, over and over, like a prayer.
Riko broke the kiss, just barely, her lips brushing Kanon’s ear as she whispered, “You’re so cute when you’re tipsy, Non.” The words sent a shiver down Kanon’s spine. Riko’s hand continued its slow ascent, sliding further up Kanon’s skirt until her fingers found the edge of something soft and frilly.
Kanon’s eyes went wide, her face burning with sudden embarrassment. Frilly underwear. White with little pink bows. Cute, innocent, completely unsexy frilly underwear. She hadn’t exactly planned on anyone seeing them tonight, and now, with Riko’s hand right there, she wanted to sink through the floor.
Why didn’t I wear the black lace ones? Kanon thought desperately, squeezing her eyes shut. Or at least something that doesn’t have bows on it?
Riko’s response wasn’t teasing, but a soft, breathless laugh against her neck that was impossibly fond. “So cute,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to Kanon’s fluttering pulse. “Everything about you is cute, Non.” The warmth in her voice washed away Kanon’s embarrassment, leaving only a dizzying flush of pleasure.
Kanon whimpered, both mortified and impossibly aroused, as Riko’s fingers traced the delicate edge of her underwear, teasing along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. She clung to Riko’s shoulders, her own hands trembling as they slipped beneath the hem of Riko’s shirt, desperate to feel the warmth of her skin.
“Riko,” Kanon breathed again, arching into her touch. “Please…”
“Please what?” Riko teased, her voice low and husky. Her lips found Kanon’s neck again, trailing slow, languid kisses along her jawline and down to her collarbone. “Tell me what you want, Non.”
Kanon’s mind was hazy with wine and desire, her usual inhibitions completely dissolved. “I want you,” she whispered, bold and vulnerable all at once. “I want you to touch me. I want…” She trailed off, too embarrassed to say the rest, but her body spoke for her as she shifted her hips, pressing into Riko’s hand.
Riko groaned softly, the sound vibrating against Kanon’s skin. “You’re going to be the death of me,” she murmured, and then her hand moved with more purpose, her palm pressing against Kanon through the thin, frilly fabric.
Kanon cried out, her head falling back against the armrest as pleasure shot through her. She was acutely aware of every sensation, the rough texture of the couch beneath her, the cool air of the apartment against her heated skin, the overwhelming, intoxicating feel of Riko’s hand on her. The embarrassment about her underwear faded, replaced by pure, burning need.
“So responsive,” Riko whispered, her eyes dark with desire as she watched Kanon’s face. “So beautiful.”
Kanon’s hands roamed over Riko’s shirt, mapping the contours of her back, her sides, the soft curve of her waist. She wanted to touch everywhere, to feel all of her, to close the distance between them until there was nothing left. Riko shifted her weight, settling more fully between Kanon’s thighs, and Kanon wrapped her legs around Riko’s waist, pulling her closer.
Their lips met again in a desperate, hungry kiss. Kanon could feel Riko’s heart hammering against her own chest, matching the frantic rhythm of her own pulse. Riko’s hand moved again, sliding beneath the waistband of Kanon’s underwear, and Kanon gasped into the kiss, her whole body trembling.
“Is this okay?” Riko asked, her voice rough, her fingers stilling as she sought permission.
“Yes,” Kanon breathed, nodding frantically. “Yes, please, Riko, I want… I want you.”
Riko’s fingers resumed their exploration, gentle and teasing, drawing soft, broken sounds from Kanon’s throat. Kanon felt like she was unraveling, every touch sending sparks of pleasure racing through her veins. The rough texture of the couch cushions pressed against her back, a dim reminder that the bedroom was just down the hall, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. All that mattered was Riko, her touch, her warmth, the way she was looking at Kanon like she was the only thing in the world.
“Let’s go to the bedroom,” Riko whispered against her lips, her hand stilling again. “I want to take my time with you, Non. I want to do this properly.”
Kanon nodded, her face flushed, her whole body aching with need. “Okay,” she whispered. “Bedroom.”
Riko started to pull back, but as she moved, Kanon let out a soft, needy sound and instinctively arched closer. That was all it took. Riko sank back down, lost in the deep, desperate kiss all over again.
“Or maybe,” Riko murmured against her lips, her hand sliding back under her skirt, “just a little longer here.”
Kanon laughed breathlessly, her fingers tangling in Riko’s hair. “You’re terrible.”
“You love me,” Riko countered, her fingers finding that sensitive spot again, making Kanon gasp and arch against her.
“I do,” Kanon breathed. “I love you so much, Riko.”
They were so lost in each other, so consumed by the heat and the need and the overwhelming rightness of the moment, that neither of them heard the footsteps in the hallway outside. Neither of them noticed the click of the door until it was too late.
BANG!
The front door flew open so violently it hit the wall with a deafening smack.
“Akanen, I told you we should ring the doorbell first—”
“RIKOCHI! I FORGOT MY PHONE ON YOUR KITCHEN COUNTER EARLIER!”
Akane’s incredibly loud, incredibly drunken voice echoed through the apartment like a megaphone.
Riko and Kanon sprang apart. Riko practically vaulted backward off the couch, landing rigidly on the coffee table with a loud thud, while Kanon let out a startled squeak and immediately pulled a throw pillow over her flushed face, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs.
Akane stood in the entryway, swaying slightly, holding a half-empty can of Strong Zero. She blinked owlishly at the two of them, trying to process the scene.
Suddenly, Yuzuki appeared behind Akane, panting heavily. “Akanen! You absolute idiot!” Yuzuki grabbed Akane’s wrist and lifted it up into the air. “Your phone is literally in your left hand! You’ve been holding it the whole time!”
Akane looked up at her left hand. The screen of her smartphone was glowing brightly. “Oh.” She looked back down at Riko, who was still frozen on the coffee table, and Kanon, who was trembling under a pillow. Akane offered a sloppy, completely unapologetic grin. “My bad! Continue your…” She made random hand gestures. “Thingy, thing. Bye!”
Yuzuki dragged Akane backward out the door by her collar, bowing frantically to the living room. “We’re so sorry!” She looked at the automatic door lock and pressed the button. “Make sure to lock your doors, because we have a wild dragon! Bye!”
The door clicked shut, followed by the distinct sound of Yuzuki yelling at Akane down the hallway, with Akane slurring her words in garbled response.
Silence descended upon the apartment once more, broken only by the sound of Riko and Kanon’s heavy, ragged breathing.
They stayed frozen for a long moment. Then, Riko looked at the locked door, and Kanon slowly lowered the pillow from her face to look at Riko. The sheer absurdity of the situation bubbled up in Kanon’s chest. She let out a snort, which turned into a giggle, which quickly erupted into full-blown, tear-inducing laughter.
Riko joined in, covering her face as her shoulders shook with uncontrollable mirth.
“I- I can’t believe her!” Kanon wheezed, wiping a tear from her eye, her earlier boldness completely replaced by a dizzying, happy amusement.
“They were so worried about us,” Riko laughed, running a hand through her messy blonde hair, her face still flushed red. “I guess that’s what we get for leaving the door unlocked. I didn’t even notice it didn’t lock… Guess it put us in a lock, huh?”
The massive burst of laughter left Kanon breathless, draining the last of her energy. Her head swam, and the pleasant weight of the alcohol finally pulled her down. Her giggles softened into a sleepy sigh as she sank into the cushions, her eyes fluttering shut.
“We should… thank them…” Kanon mumbled, her head lolling to the side against the armrest.
“We will,” Riko smiled fondly, her heart soaring as she watched her adorable girlfriend succumb to sleep.
Riko gently leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to Kanon’s forehead. “Let’s get you to bed first.”
The morning sun filtered brightly through the curtains, hitting Kanon directly in the eyes. She groaned, pulling the fluffy duvet over her head.
“Morning, sleepyhead.”
Kanon peeked out to see Riko sitting on the edge of the bed, a glass of water and a familiar foil of headache medicine in her hands.
“I didn’t fall asleep on the couch again, did I?” Kanon asked, her voice laced with embarrassment as she sat up, realizing she was dressed in one of Riko’s oversized t-shirts. A fresh wave of heat rushed to her cheeks as she accepted the water. “She… she changed my clothes? This is so embarrassing…” A new wave of heat flooded her cheeks.
“You completely passed out after the YuzuAka Tornado,” Riko teased gently. Then, her expression softened into something more serious. She set the medicine on the nightstand. “Non… I’m so glad we cleared everything up last night. But I know your phone is broken, and I know you were having a hard time. I just want to hear it from you.”
Kanon winced slightly, staring down at her glass, but she didn’t hide this time. The embarrassment was still there, but the fear was gone.
“I was so incredibly silly,” Kanon confessed, her voice soft but steady. “I was so jealous of Haachan, and I was too embarrassed to tell you. When I dropped my phone and broke it, I felt like it was my fault for everything going wrong. I saw the two of you in the cafe, laughing and I…” She looked up, meeting Riko’s eyes. “I’m so sorry I ignored you. I promise I won’t ever run away like that again. I’ll just tell you.”
Riko carefully moved the glass from Kanon’s hands, setting it on the nightstand, before wrapping her arms tightly around Kanon’s waist and pulling her into a warm, firm hug.
“You were at the cafe? I actually had gone there to ask Haachan if she had an idea…” Riko looked at her fondly.
“Really…? Why were you two laughing…? Why did she touch your shoulder?” Kanon took this opportunity to ask a little about it for the calmness of her heart.
“She said I was worrying about something so small, and was trying to cheer me up with random jokes. She’s always been a little touchy, but I promise I’ll be more mindful,” Riko murmured into her hair. “You never have to hide how you feel from me, Non. We’ll work on everything together. One step at a time, right?”
“Right,” Kanon agreed, a beautiful, genuine smile finally returning to her face. She leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Riko’s lips in the quiet peace of the morning. “But… we should really do something for the others. To apologize for practice, and thank them for worrying.”
“I know just the place,” Riko grinned. “But first…” She gently nudged her. “I think some breakfast is in order.”
Kanon groaned, but a smile touched her lips. “Okay… but you’re cooking.”
Riko looked around in feigned confusion. “If not me… Who else would it be?”
“That’s so mean!” Kanon laughed as she playfully smacked Riko’s shoulder.
Riko walked toward the kitchen, and Kanon, fresh from washing her face, trailed behind her. She sat down at the dining table and switched on the TV, her attention drifting to the morning news.
“Here.” Riko said, her voice soft as she set bowls of hangover soup in front of Kanon, and herself as she took a seat across her. “I figured you’d need something to settle the ‘white peach’ notes in your stomach, my dearest professional drinker.”
Kanon looked at it in surprise, not even noticing how much time has passed for Riko to already have prepared soup for her. “Thank you, and you’re so mean.” She smiled after sticking her tongue out while Riko just shook her head and dug into her soup.
“Riko… Thank you,” Kanon whispered. “For… for taking care of me, even when I’m a handful.”
Riko smiled at her warmly. “You’re my handful, Non. Now eat. We need to plan our apology feast for the others.”
Kanon took her last sip of the soup, the warmth spreading through her chest. She glanced at Riko, who was watching her with that soft, fond expression that made Kanon’s heart flutter. Then Kanon remembered something and her eyes went wide.
“Wait,” she said, setting down her spoon. “We both just… fell asleep last night. Without showering.”
Riko blinked, then realization dawned on her face. She sniffed her own shoulder and made a face. “Oh. Yeah, we definitely need showers.”
Kanon was about to get up when a mischievous impulse seized her. She looked at Riko with a slow, teasing smile. “You could join me, Riko.”
Riko raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at her lips. “Oh? Is that an invitation?”
The question hit Kanon like a bucket of cold water. Her eyes went wide and any lingering sleepiness evaporated instantly, replaced by stone-cold sobriety and mortification. She scrambled up from the table, shaking her head frantically. “No! No, I- I was joking! I didn’t mean-“
She practically sprinted toward the bathroom, her face burning. “I am the one saying no! Definitely no!”
Riko laughed, leaning back in her chair to watch Kanon flee. “You think I would say no if you actually asked?”
“I didn’t ask!” Kanon squeaked from the hallway, her voice echoing with embarrassed indignation. “I take it back! It never happened!”
The bathroom door clicked shut, followed by the sound of running water.
Riko shook her head with a fond, exasperated smile. “That girl…”
She stood up and stretched, still chuckling to herself. Her girlfriend was absolutely ridiculous, and she wouldn’t have her any other way.
A few minutes later, Kanon emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, dressed in clothes she borrowed from Riko’s closet, her face still pink but her composure somewhat restored. Riko was waiting in the hallway with a towel.
“Your turn,” Kanon mumbled, avoiding eye contact as she headed for the living room.
“Thanks,” Riko said, her voice warm with amusement. She paused at the bathroom door and looked back at Kanon with a playful glint in her eye. “Sure you don’t want to join me?”
“Riko!” Kanon shrieked, grabbing a nearby cushion and throwing it at her.
Riko ducked into the bathroom, her laughter echoing off the tiles as the door clicked shut.
Kanon stood in the hallway, clutching another cushion to her chest, her heart pounding. She was never going to live this down.
But as she heard Riko humming happily in the shower, she couldn’t help but smile.
After they’d both showered and changed, a touch of light makeup restoring a sense of normalcy, they made their way to the yakiniku restaurant, hand in hand.
“PREMIUM KALBI! EXTRA RICE! AND TEN MORE BEERS!”
Akane’s voice boomed over the sizzle of the grill, as she tapped away on the digital ordering tablet, as if she were threatening Riko and Kanon’s wallets. The expansive private room Kanon and Riko had booked was a cacophony of clinking glasses, sizzling premium wagyu beef, and chaotic, alcohol-fueled chatter.
Kanon sat neatly next to Riko, expertly using her silver tongs to flip a perfectly marbled slice of beef. She placed the beautifully cooked meat onto Riko’s plate with a content smile, completely unbothered by the noise.
“So, let me get this straight,” Coco said, leaning over the table with a piece of lettuce in hand, pointing it accusingly at the couple. “You two finally made up, and your grand apology to us for dragging us into your lovers’ quarrel and ruining a perfectly good Ave Mujica rehearsal is an all-expenses-paid trip to premium yakiniku?”
“Basically,” Riko laughed, happily eating the meat Kanon had prepared for her. “Consider it a bribe to keep you all from breaking down my door the next time you lose your phones.”
“Hey! I was the catalyst for your reconciliation!” Akane argued, pointing a pair of chopsticks at them while Yuzuki frantically tried to order more meat on the tablet. “If I hadn’t interrupted you guys making out on the couch, you wouldn’t have realized how much you missed us!”
“That makes absolutely no sense, Akanen!” Yuzuki yelled over the sizzle of the grill, grabbing her own mug of beer. “But I agree! We’re the best wing-women ever! We practically saved the band from disbanding!”
Across the table, Mei elegantly wiped her mouth with a napkin. Usually the most composed one, she was starting to show the effects of three glasses of plum wine. A serene, hazy smile graced her face, and her posture was remarkably relaxed as she leaned into Coco’s personal space.
“I am just glad to see that everything is back to normal,” Mei said, her voice dropping into a smooth, velvety register that was entirely uncommon for her. She turned her gaze to Coco, her eyes half-lidded. “Though, I must say, it’s quite nice having you join us, Coco-chan. You make the scenery so much more… vibrant.”
Coco nearly choked on her ginger ale, her face instantly turning as red as the raw beef on the table. “M- Meishan?! Are you drunk?!”
“Just pleasantly tipsy,” Mei hummed, resting her chin on her hand as she boldly held Coco’s gaze. “Is it a crime to compliment a beautiful woman?”
“I, You, Drink some water!” Coco stammered, frantically pushing a water glass toward the bassist, completely flustered.
Kanon watched the chaotic scene unfold, a warm, fond smile on her lips. But the heat of the grills and the sheer volume of the room were starting to catch up to her. Riko noticed her slightly overwhelmed expression immediately.
“Need some air?” Riko whispered, leaning in close.
Kanon nodded. “Just for a minute.”
Through the clamor of Akane and Yuzuki’s bickering, Kanon felt a gentle tug on her hand. Riko met her gaze, then led her toward the sliding glass doors. They slipped out onto a quiet, attached veranda, the chaos of the room instantly muffled behind them.
The contrast was immediate. The cool, crisp Tokyo night air washed over them, a stark and refreshing relief from the smoky heat of the yakiniku grills. The faint hum of the city traffic below provided a gentle white noise compared to the chaos inside.
Riko leaned her back against the railing, exhaling a soft breath before reaching out. Kanon stepped perfectly into her space, taking Riko’s hands in hers. They stood there in the quiet dimness of the veranda, the soft glow of the city lights illuminating their faces.
“They’re a handful, aren’t they?” Riko chuckled softly, her thumb tracing the back of Kanon’s hand.
“Riko… I’m just so glad we’re all here together like this. I’m glad we figured everything out.”
“Hey,” Riko said gently, letting go of one of Kanon’s hands to softly cup her cheek, tilting her face up. “We’re a team. And we’re a band. We worry because we care. But… I don’t want us to ever feel like we have to run away from each other again.”
“We won’t,” Kanon promised, her voice filled with unwavering resolve. She leaned her face into Riko’s warm palm. “I’m going to be completely honest with you from now on. If I’m sad, or jealous, or happy… I’ll tell you. I promise.”
“And I promise to listen, and to always look at you,” Riko replied, her gaze soft and full of warmth. “I love you, Non. More than ever.”
“I love you too,” Kanon whispered, her heart soaring.
They slowly leaned in, the cool air around them entirely forgotten as their lips met. The kiss was sweet and tender, and in that simple touch, Kanon felt the truth of their promises settle deep in her heart.
“Hey! You can’t escape the meat!”
The sliding glass door was violently thrown open.
Kanon and Riko jumped apart as Akane and Yuzuki barged onto the veranda. Akane was double-fisting two massive mugs of beer, while Yuzuki was holding a plate piled dangerously high with freshly grilled short ribs.
“What are you two doing out here being all romantic?!” Yuzuki demanded loudly, a massive grin on her flushed face. “We didn’t come to a premium yakiniku place to freeze on a balcony! Get back inside, the wagyu is burning!”
“Alright, alright, we’re coming,” Riko laughed, wrapping a protective arm around Kanon’s waist as the two chaotic bandmates ushered them back inside the warm room.
As they slid back into their seats, the noise and the heat washing over them once again, Kanon happened to glance across the table.
The chaos of Akane and Yuzuki distributing the meat provided the perfect cover. Coco was sitting very quietly, her face still a brilliant shade of pink as she nervously sipped her orange juice with her free hand. Her free one was hidden beneath the table, securely intertwined with Mei’s.
Mei, looking completely unbothered and beautifully serene, caught Kanon’s eye and offered a small, knowing, slightly shy smile. Coco peeked over her glass, her eyes meeting Mei’s, and a soft, genuine smile finally broke through her flustered expression.
Kanon squeezed Riko’s hand under the table, her heart impossibly full. There would probably be more misunderstandings in the future, more chaotic rehearsals, and definitely more drunken interruptions. But as Kanon looked around at the loud, messy, wonderful family they had built, she felt a quiet certainty settle in her chest. They were going to be just fine.
(END/Unstrung Emotions)