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Mika wakes up with cramps.
As far as places for this to happen go, this isn't the worst by far. School or during a volleyball game or on a date all take the cake on that end. Still, a sleepover isn't an ideal time to start your period either. Mika sighs deeply and props herself up on her elbows.
She grabs her phone. The time says 4:36 AM.
Surveying the living room floor, she clocks that the other girls are still soundly asleep. Makoto and Yuzuki don't rise from underneath an extra large quilt, Makoto's face pressed up against Yuzuki's back. Both sets of eyes are closed. Mitsumi is sprawled out a bit further from Mika. Her hair fans under her and over her face. Knocked out.
Mika eyes the crack underneath Nao-chan's door. No light, so she's asleep, too.
She shimmies out from the bedsheet she'd slept under—even during the winter she sweats furiously in her sleep, something she refuses to entertain at a sleepover, so she opted for a sheet rather than a blanket. She gets up. A tip-toed trip to the bathroom confirms her fears.
No pads or tampons.
"You're kidding," she mutters.
Another cramp hits, and Mika grits her teeth. She pokes around some more in the bathroom cabinet. Barely awake and sick to her stomach, it's easier to remain kneeling and keep searching than to get up. She doesn't want to wake up the other girls if she keeps rummaging around, either. Death by cramps would be preferable to making a scene.
Mika resolves to just stay here on the bathroom floor, in agony, until morning hits. Then someone cracks open the door and says, "Mika-chan?"
It's Mitsumi, squinting her eyes against the harsh bathroom light. She still looks half asleep, and Mika cringes, wondering how much noise she made if she managed to wake up Mitsumi.
"Sorry," Mika says.
"What are you—are you okay?"
"Yeah, you can go back to sleep." She keeps her eyes on the opened cabinet, feeling like she can't meet Mitsumi's eyes. Even so, in her periphery she still can see very clearly as Mitsumi comes inside the bathroom and shuts the door behind her. That's the thing about Mitsumi. Whenever Mika hopes that she'll just turn around, go back the way she came from and forget—Mitsumi always takes a step toward her.
"Mika," she says again.
"You probably won't leave without me telling you, right?"
"Well, yeah," Mitsumi says, sheepishly. She sounds so concerned, and Mika rolls her eyes.
"I started my period, okay? I can't find any pads." Another wave of cramps hits her. She feels a little pathetic. Karmic. "And, ah—some ibuprofen wouldn't be the worst, either."
Mitsumi's eyes still have yet to adjust to the fluorescent lights, but now they widen in front of Mika. She drops down to her knees next to Mika and starts clamoring around in the cabinet herself.
When Mitsumi sits too closely, it always makes Mika anxious enough to pass out. Combined with the cramps, and the smell of Mitsumi's shampoo in her nose, Mika feels way worse than she did. She doesn't ask Mitsumi to leave, though.
"Oh, no, shoot," Mitsumi says finally. "Mine just ended, so I hadn't picked up a new box yet…"
Of course this is how it would time out. "Would Nao-chan have some?"
Mitsumi doesn't look at her in any particular way, except maybe Mika would describe the face she makes as gentle. Her words are similarly straightforward. "She doesn't need them."
Mika turns red, feeling a little stupid for having asked. "Right," she says, and yet she can't help but wish that Nao would've stumbled upon her in the bathroom instead. She always understands how hard it is to be a girl, how much Mika seems to uniquely struggle with it.
Even if it wasn't exactly the same, she wished she could talk to Nao right now.
Before she can think of anything else to say, Mitsumi pipes up. "I can ask Nao-chan if she can drive us to the store to get them."
Mika grabs onto her arm before she can charge back into the hallway. "No, don't do that. Did you see how late it is?"
"Yeah, but you need them." Mitsumi says it so earnestly that it makes Mika's skin itch.
"I'll just walk to the convenience store."
"Are you sure?"
"It's not too far," she says flatly.
Mitsumi still doesn't seem satisfied with the answer—and maybe she's right to be worried, when Mika is curled into a fetal position on the bathroom floor, swearing she's totally self-sufficient. The sight of her is no doubt very worrying.
Then, Mitsumi's eyes light up. "At least let me walk with you!"
"Shhhhhh, you're so loud." After that, in a quieter voice, Mika agrees. She's not sure why she does.
Mika stares down the shelves of menstrual products, unable to think straight. A lot of it is the recurring pains in her abdomen, but she should be able to grit her teeth and make this shopping trip as quick as possible.
No, what addles her concentration so thoroughly is Mitsumi's presence on the other end of the narrow aisle. She hums to herself as she flits around, scanning each shelf. For a little before five a.m., she's far too awake. Mika feels sluggish in comparison. At least she has an excuse.
She tries to decide on a box of pads—she's always been a picky creature, and this is no different—but her focus is broken when Mitsumi comes to stand next to her. Mika looks down and frowns at her armful of items.
"I just asked for ibuprofen," she says.
"Oh," MItsumi says. "Sorry, I just—thought you would want some snacks, too." She looks like she was caught red-handed for a far worse crime. It's a little charming. Mika squirms under that realization, refusing to chase it any further.
"As long as you don't expect me to pay you back for the extras," Mika says.
"No, no, of course not! Here, it's on me."
Her words are carefree, gentle without seeming too delicate. Mika starts to feel guilty for her prickly attitude—it's not Mitsumi's fault she got her period at a sleepover.
Then, Mitsumi surprises her. She reaches past Mika, and their shoulders brush in the process. She plucks a box of pads off the shelf. "I'll just get all of this!"
Mika wants to argue, wants to point out sourly that those aren't the kind she likes, wants to ruin the mood. But no, when she looks at the box Mitsumi picked out, it's the kind she would've chosen herself. Decisive and straightforward, without room for self-doubt.
That's just like Mitsumi, isn't it?
Mitsumi turns on her heel and heads to the counter to check out. The narrow aisle feels like it's closing in on Mika from all sides. The overstocked shelves are suffocating, or maybe her winter jacket was just a bad choice for an overheating convenience store.
Maybe the only one overheating is her.
She calls to Mitsumi before she's gone from the aisle. "Are you sure? You don't have to get all of it."
Mitsumi nods over her shoulder. It's not that her smile is uncomplicated, or oblivious. She's no stranger to Mika's moods, but her response remains the same.
"You're having a bad morning," she says. "It's the least I can do."
Mitsumi goes to pay without another word. She leaves Mika alone—with her spinning head, with her hands sweating in her pockets.
"Hm," Mitsumi says. "We might be stuck for a minute."
"You think?" Mika says, raising a brow at her. Purchases in hand, they made their way outside of the store only to be stopped short by the winter rain. It pours down, dripping off the store's front awning and splashing Mika's cream loafers. Mika frowns at how soggy they look, and she frowns at the ache in her abdomen.
The sun hasn't yet risen, but dark reds have started to streak the overcast sky. Mitsumi drifts toward her in the chill. Warmth is supposed to attract cold, so what would've drawn her to Mika? She frowns about that, most of all.
"Hopefully it clears up?" Mitsumi says.
"Unlikely this time of the year."
A hand tugs on Mika's sleeve. It's enough to break up the grimace on her face. There's an immediacy to Mitsumi's touch. In the chill, Mika rediscovers a bit of that uncomfortable heat as it sears across her cheeks.
"Mika-chan, how about we go sit there until it's not raining as hard?"
Mika follows her hand as she points across the street. A tiny café has its lights on, a WELCOME sign illuminated against the watery horizon and concrete landscape. Not as warm and inviting as Nao's living room, but better than standing out in the cold.
Still, Mika's skeptical.
"But we'd have to run through the rain to cross the street."
"It'll only be for a second!" Mitsumi says. If Mika didn't know any better, she'd say that she looks a little too excited at the prospect.
Mika pauses, but her desire to sit down wins out over her crabbiness. And anyways, it's too easy to go along with Mitsumi when she's always so confident, so steady and sure of herself.
"Fine, lead the way," she says.
Mitsumi darts into the rain, grabbing onto Mika's hand. And Mika doesn't really know how it happens, if Mitsumi trips on an uneven stretch of pavement—but when Mika sees her stumble, she surges forward and catches her. It's clumsy, but it keeps Mitsumi upright, bumping into Mika's chest before she keeps running.
They're only in the crosswalk for a minute, maybe two. It feels like it lasts forever, and Mika's hands and forearms tingle underneath the cold downpour, even after she lets go of Mitsumi.
Mika shoves open the door of the café, mourning the loss of carefully applied anti-frizz product in her damp hair. She feels like wet dog. Mitsumi isn't dismayed by getting drenched, or if she is, she hides it well. Even so, she's betrayed by her chattering teeth.
Mika doesn't realize she's smiling fondly at Mitsumi until she looks back at her, meeting Mika's eyes with a quizzical face. Mika blanks, then she frowns. She schools her expression, because she can't just stand there and smile at her like an idiot, can she?
"You had snow back home, didn't you?" Mika asks quickly.
"Mhm," Mitsumi laughs. "The huge, slippery crosswalks are new, though. Thanks for catching me."
Mika flushes as she recalls their sprint across the street. It's not as thought she hasn't spent the past two minutes replaying it in her mind, over and over. "If you went down, I would've just tripped over you, and then where would we be?"
The café greets them with the warm gust of the heater. The walls are lined with bookshelves, and a cluster of oversized, plush chairs sits by the window. There's no one else here this early in the morning. Even the owner of the store seems like she's still waking up. Everything about the atmosphere is warm and cozy. It makes Mika realize that her cramps haven't been as bad since they went out—maybe all the walking and running and catching Mitsumi helped after all.
A shopping bag rustling grabs Mika's attention, and she looks down. Mitsumi's hands are shaking. Without thinking about it a second longer than necessary, Mika starts to unzip her puffy pink jacket and shrugs it off.
"Oh, no," Mitsumi says, "you don't have to do that!"
But it's too late, and Mika would rather die than look indecisive now. She slips her jacket around Mitsumi's shivering shoulders. "You didn't bring a jacket."
"I don't need one, though…"
"You're cold, okay?" Mika says bluntly. She doesn't have a good reason for it; it's just this upset feeling she gets, sharp like a volleyball to the face, whenever Mitsumi looks like she's uncomfortable or hurt. The feeling always gnaws at Mika, somehow worse than cramps could ever hurt.
She thinks it must be pity she feels. Something nasty. She knows it makes her a bad friend.
"Okay… if you're sure. Thank you, Mika."
Mitsumi smiles at her under the café lighting, and Mika has to look away. Otherwise, she's sure Mitsumi would be able to see how violently her heart beats. She plucks the shopping bag out from Mitsumi's hands, retrieving a bottle of water from the bag. She downs two painkillers.
Maybe it's not anything like pity.
Mika awakens with a start. Mitsumi is prodding at her arm, and there's a new knot in her back. She realizes her feet are curled up underneath her—she fell asleep in one of the big cozy café chairs. The sound of rain is still ever present outside, but it seems lighter now.
"Nao-chan is here," Mitsumi says.
"What?" Mika asks. "Since when?"
"Since I texted her," Mitsumi says. That's enough to rouse Mika instantly, and Mitsumi immediately shakes her head, apologies already oozing out of her. "I'm sorry, I know you didn't want to wake her—but I knew you didn't feel well! And I didn't want you to have to walk back in the rain."
The sun is finally rising outside, and it illuminates the side of Mitsumi's face. Though it's still gloomy outside, the window casts her in a faint gold. It's Mika's drowsiness—from the ibuprofen, from her nap—that lets her smile softly up at the sight of Mitsumi.
Mitsumi doesn't smile back, her eyes oddly wide. Her cheeks are flushed, but Mika rationalizes it as a trick of the light.
Nao flips on her hazard lights as she pulls up in front of the café. Mika and Mitsumi scurry into her car's backseat, only getting slightly damp this time. Mitsumi thanks her profusely for picking them up. All Mika can think to do is stare at her.
"Are you feeling any better?" Nao asks her.
"Y—yes! I am," Mika nods fervently.
Mussed and hazy from sleep, Nao still has a certain glow about her as she puts the car back in drive. Her hands look strong and capable on the steering wheel, yet there's a softness to them. Mika glances down at her own, and then at Mitsumi's.
Mitsumi's cuticles are picked over, nails short, but the softness to Mitsumi's hands is unmistakable. Mika thinks about grabbing hold of her hand, but she can't think of very reasonable justification behinds wanting to—which isn't reasonable at all. And then the moment is over before she can make a decision.
"Late night, huh?" Nao says, looking over her shoulder. Mika realizes that it's a shared mannerism, that Mitsumi does the same thing.
"Early morning, actually!" Mitsumi says. "Depending on how you think about it."
"Either way, I'm exhausted," Mika says, though her voice lacks its usual snark. She really is knocked out, and her cramps have settled down to a dull ache.
Mitsumi and Nao keep up an easy conversation. No matter how hard Mika tries to stay awake, though, she finds herself dozing off—until her cheek presses to Mitsumi's shoulder.
She almost doesn't clock Mitsumi's voice, against her temple, barely above a whisper.
"Sorry I dragged you along," Mitsumi says softly.
"S'okay. Thanks for buying me pads."
"Of course!" Mitsumi says—so serious, as always. "I always hope you can count on me."
Believe me, I do. Mika doesn't say it out loud, but the thought is clear enough that she feels twitchy, too warm. She decides that next time, she'll try to tell Mitsumi out loud. If not those exact words, then at least something close.
The longer she rests against Mitsumi in the backseat, Mika feels herself unwind. She's never been the type to relax around others, but she watches the sunrise finally turn a light pink, and she feels like she can. Mika watches rain and concrete and sunlight out the window as they drive back to Mitsumi's.
She vaguely notices when Mitsumi takes one of her hands, holds onto it. The motion of Nao's car lulls her back to sleep.