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It was late in the evening when Mizuki got the text. It didn't matter. It could have been the dead of the night, the hours before sunrise or the middle of the day. They would have still went.
For Kanade.
The pale girl didn't meet their eyes when she opened the door. "I'm sorry I called you so late."
"It's okay, I don't mind."
And she truly didn't.
The girl at the door only stared at the ground. Eventually Mizuki cleared her throat. "Can I come in?" they asked in the gentlest voice they could muster.
She nodded, taking a step back. Mizuki followed, taking a step inside, as if they were partners in a dance, moving together the the sound of music. Only aware of the door behind them from the cold air creeping in, they were transfixed on the sight of the girl in front of their eyes. She looked like an angel, if angels had eyes that had gone red from weeping and a body that shook from the weight upon it. Her long white hair cascaded onto her shoulders, covering her bright eyes. Her thin fingers were entangled in the ends, nervously brushing through the no doubt split ends. If she pulled any harder the hair would come apart.
Mizuki slowly reached towards her, her hands encircling smaller hands. Thankfully, she didn't flinch like she sometimes would. Mizuki took that as her cue, fingers entangling as she pulled the pale hands away from her hair and closer to herself.
Kanade's hands were cold. And Mizuki was the one who'd just been in the cold winter air.
Oh, Kanade...
Mizuki lightly squeezed her hands.
Kanade finally looked up at them. Her blue eyes were overcast with pain.
"Thanks for coming." she whispered in a raspy voice. Mizuki wondered how long she'd been crying. How long had it taken for her to text them, to actually ask for help?
At least she had. Mizuki could still remember the painful days where the girl would have suffered in silence, never letting out a single word of her pain slip out as she consumed herself to help fix their woes. She was a little better now. They were really glad.
They finally let the on of their hands drop, only so that they could lift a hand to her head. Fingers brushing against her cheek as they gently swept her bangs behind her ears, clearing up her face.
"Of course" they whispered back. "I would never turn away an excuse to see your pretty face."
Kanade broke into a small smile at their words. "I should make you some tea. Please wait in the living room?" Mizuki's head was already shaking before she'd finished speaking. "No please. Kanade, you look exhausted. When did you last sleep?"
When their question was only answered with a guilty look, Mizuki sighed. "Sit. I'll make the tea, and then we can talk."
Kanade nodded, still looking guilty. That was par for the course, Mizuki thought. Kanade carried her guilt like a permanent scar that'd been carved onto her heart, never letting it fade. Every little thing that any other person would have forgotten about in a matter of days, Kanade remembered forever. Mizuki couldn't help but hope that one day she'd let herself be free from her past.
But that day was not today, so Mizuku went to the kitchen that they'd been in so many times and let the water flow.
By the time they were back with two cups of hot tea, Kanade looked a bit better. Not by much, she was still pale and the bags under her eyes were more prominent than usual, but her eyes had turned from an aggressive red to a pinkish red. She was sitting on the middle of the couch, drowning in her oversized hoodie, staring blankly at the coffee table. It was bad, Mizuki thought. They'd come to know Kanade well enough to guess her mood from her position on the couch.
She didn't leave her room much, so there weren't many times she sat on the couch. When she did, either she was busy working on something on her computer in which case she sat resting against the edge with her legs curled up in front, or she was with the rest of them, squished between any two and covered with a blanket in an attempt to stop her from freezing. On the rare occasions that Mizuki had seen her at her lowest, she had been sat on the floor with her back to the couch, not even having the energy to lift herself onto it.
This was new, to say the least.
"Thanks." Kanade murmured as she took the cup they offered. "I'm sorry. You're the guest here. I shouldn't be making you do this." She cradled the cup close to her chest. With a sigh, Mizuki took a seat next to her, their own mug set on the coffee table to wait until it cooled down. "You called me here to help, Kanade. Please, let me help. You don't have to do everything alone." They risked a glance at their right.
Kanade sipped the tea. Her face scrunched with confusion. "It tastes sweet?" She looked at them, surprised.
Mizuki laughed. "I added some honey. No offense Kanade, but your voice sounds like your throat may use some."
Kanade blushed. "Oh. Thank you Mizuki." Mizuki smiled at her.
Silently, Mizuki waited for Kanade to be done with her tea. The girl was a fast eater and drinker, perhaps as a result of having spent years consuming food as quickly as humanly possible in order to get back to work faster. By the time her mug was empty, her own cup hadn't even cooled down yet.
"Do you want another cup?" Mizuki asked her, in a futile attempt to delay the conversation that was approaching. They were here for a reason, after all. "There's more left in the kettle."
Kanade hesitated.
"I want to get it myself." Her voice sounded better at least.
Mizuki nodded. "I left the honey on the lower shelf, if you want more." Kanade nodded gratefully as she disappeared from their sight.
Well. Now what?
They'd been concerned when they got a call from Kanade with her sounding like something very bad had happened. And when she told them she needed their help, a small part of them might have been relieved that the composer had finally started to ask for help but a larger part had felt like someone had dropped ice down their back.
I got a call. Kanade had said. I need to get ready for a funeral.
Oh. Was all Mizuki had said as the fear gripped their insides. Is it... They'd been too scared to finish their sentence.
It's not dad. Kanade had never sounded so small before. I know this is a lot to ask but-
I'm on my way. Mizuki had cut her off. In their defense, what else was there to do? Or to be more precise, whatever Kanade was going to ask of them was probably going to be less than what she needed. So they hadn't let her finish.
In their defense, again, Kanade had definitely been crying. And there was no way Mizuki was going to let her cry alone. Never again. This house, for all its warmth, had a way of becoming so cold and lonely at times. They didn't want to think about how many nights Kanade had cried herself to sleep here, alone and afraid.
As Kanade appeared in the doorway, holding a steaming cup of tea, they were beginning their decision of not letting her finish. They'd been too panicked at the crying and rushed here. But now that they were finally here, they had no idea how to ask.
Kanade took a seat on her other side, on her usual spot of the couch's edge. "I-" she spoke hesitantly. "-need you to help me with an outfit for the funeral."
The fingers around the cup were trembling. Mizuki was missing something.
"Is that all?" they asked, as softly as they could. Kanade stayed silent, her fingers turning white from the force of her grip. Her lips started trembling. Mizuki reached over to grab the cup before the shaking spilled it over the two of them. Kanade let go without resistance.
Mizuki set it on the table as well.
"I thought it was dad." Kanade admitted. "The- the hospital called me to let me know that-" she sobbed, breaking out into tears. Mizuki immediately pulled her in for a hug. She was shaking now, shoulders moving as she curled up further into herself.
"I thought it was him." Kanade cried into their sweater. Mizuki laid a hand on her back reassuringly, slowly moving it up and down in an attempt to soothe. "And I know it's stupid, he's not dying. But I- I just... It's really dumb."
"It's okay." Mizuki whispered. "It's not stupid."
Kanade laughed miserably. "He's gonna die, Mizuki. We're all going to die."
Mizuki stilled. "Yes." she answered hesitantly. "We're all going to die eventually." There was no point in empty lies. They weren't immortal.
"But not just yet." Mizuki continued. "Not now."
Kanade took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.
Her crying had lessened but it didn't feel natural. It felt like Kanade was trying to suppress her grief once again, forcing herself to stop crying. It was her choice, in the end, but Mizuki still didn't feel right about it.
"Kanade?" Mizuki asked softly, one hand finding its way into her hair to brush the frayed white strings. "You can let yourself cry if you need to. It's okay."
It was like something inside her finally broke. Kanade sobbed violently into her while Mizuki held on even tighter. It felt like the world was only the two of them right now, on this couch.
Kanade started speaking again the second she calmed down. "Someone died. A man is dead and I'm relieved that it wasn't my dad. It could have been him."
"But it wasn't." Mizuki spoke gently. They wanted so badly for Kanade to stop avoiding the topic but they couldn't push her.
Kanade pulled away, getting back into a sitting position. She wiped her eyes.
"Last time it was my mom, you know?"
Mizuki froze. "What do you mean?"
"Last time I went to a funeral. It was mom. Dad helped with everything, helped me get dressed. He hugged me. He promised everything would be alright."
Kanade broke into a pained smile. "It wasn't alright. Nothing's ever been alright since mom died. He got worse. It was my fault I know but when I saw him on the floor that day, all I could think of was that I would have to go to another funeral. His. And I would be alone. There would be no one to help, no one to help me get dressed, no one to tell me it was going to be alright. And I guess that's for the better. I wouldn't have deserved it anyways after what I did. But I was so scared."
"And he was alive. There was no funeral. But he wasn't alright. For the first few weeks, I was so scared that any moment, I would get a call from the hospital, that I would lose him forever and it would be my fault."
"And he's stable, I know he is. But every time I visit him, a part of me is afraid. What if he gets worse? What if I fail him again? What if I fail everyone? What if I wake up tomorrow and it's about one of you? You can't tell me that wouldn't happen. We've had too many close calls."
...and what could they even say to that?
"It wasn't your fault, Kanade." Mizuki murmured. They'd had this discussion many times and Kanade had stayed unconvinced throughout. It was a failing fight.
"It is." she said.
It was so painful, seeing the other girl in so much pain. Knowing that she held onto this pain, and eternally would. Knowing the person she loved blamed herself for the pain of everyone else and not being able to help in any way.
"You would have still deserved comfort." is all they could think to say. Everything else they want to say would get refuted and denied but there's a chance this won't. "You deserve comfort, even if you think you don't."
Kanade smiled painfully at them. "Thank you Mizuki." It's not acceptance but it's also not denial. It's the best they could expect from her.
Hesitantly, Mizuki reached out again, hoping the girl wouldn't reject the comfort she believed she did not deserve. Kanade melted into their touch, falling into their hug once again.
"I'm sorry I made your outfit wet." she whispered. Mizuki laughed.
"Don't worry about it. Let's finish our tea first."
"Are you sure you're okay with going?" Mizuki asked for what felt like the hundredth time. Kanade nodded once again. "Yes, I'm sure. I have to go."
These days, Mizuki could always tell when Kanade was only faking a smile. As they adjusted the cuff on her suit, their eyes met. Their heart ached. Every time they saw the suit, they were reminded of the conversation they had that day.
You want a suit? Mizuki had asked. Not a dress?
It's winter. Kanade had replied. It's cold.
The funeral is inside though. You should wear a coat outside anyways.
Kanade looked at them once again with her pain filled blue eyes.
The next one may be outside. The last one will definitely be outside. In death, I can not remain the same as I was alive.
Mizuki stopped talking.
It wasn't like Kanade was exactly wrong. They were all people who walked the line between here and nowhere. Life and death. They had all had their moments where even the slightest wind could push them over. It almost had, on several occasions. Mizuki shared those same anxieties, that one day they'd wake up and one of their friends would be gone forever. Still, it didn't sit right with them, the way that Kanade treated death as the inevitable destination. Sure, it was inevitable. But life remained before it, a life that had to be lived.
"Here." Mizuki stepped back to admire their work. Kanade had always looked pretty, but she looked different now. More mature, somehow. Mizuki couldn't tell if it had to do with the suit, or what they'd discussed a few days ago.
It also might have had something to do with the fact that Mizuki had stayed at her house the past few days, helping her get ready for the funeral. It really was a distant relative, there wasn't much she needed to do except show up in a nice suit and stay a while. Or at least that was what Kanade said. Mizuki disagreed. If the girl was ice cold to the touch -and she was- inside her home, then she wouldn't handle the cold outside very well. So Mizuki had been forcing her to eat properly for the past few days and go to sleep on time for once.
They had a hunch that Kanade had only agreed so her relatives wouldn't get concerned. But whatever. Whatever let it happen, Mizuki was grateful. Kanade's constant blatant self destruction was starting to get bad, even by their standards. This was a welcome break.
Still, Kanade turned pale as chalk whenever they talked about the funeral. Or funerals in general. Mizuki made one last ditch effort.
"Are you allowed a plus one? I'd come with you, if you need me."
Kanade frowned. "Yes, I can bring someone. You don't need to come though." Mizuki cupped her face in their hands. She was warmer than before, if only slightly. "Kanade, I've seen snow less white than you've been when we talk about this. If I can come support you, I'm coming."
Kanade sighed with visible relief. "Alright." Seconds later her face turned into one of pure confusion as she processed the words. "Wait what?"
Mizuki ignored her questioning glare, choosing to pack up their sewing kit instead. Their work here was done. Kanade finally gave up, choosing to ask a more urgent question. "Do you have anything to wear?"
Mizuki nodded. "Yeah. I have a black dress and I can borrow my mom's coat. The dress is simple, not like my usual stuff so it'll be fine, I think." It would be more than fine, actually. The dress was specifically a funeral dress. Mizuki didn't want Kanade to ask why they would have that. The words 'I wanted to be sure I'd be buried in a dress.' were harder to speak than one would think.
They were trying. They were fine. They wouldn't be the reason Kanade wears the suit again, with no one around to help her get dressed.
Kanade didn't ask anything, her blue eyes shining with pain. "Okay." she said simply. "Please accompany me, if you don't mind."
Mizuki smiled brightly. "I don't."
The next day, the two of them took the train. It was far away. Mizuki said nothing as Kanade slowly drifted off, laying her head on their shoulder. They had spent the last night at their own home, getting ready properly in the morning. They had a suspicion Kanade hadn't slept so well in their absence.
The ceremony was about as long as the train ride. They gave their condolences at the entrance, to the close family of the deceased. Maybe they should have left then, Mizuki started to think as they sat silently in the back, next to Kanade and all the other distant relatives, all of those who were lucky enough to not share their last names with the unfortunate man. All except Kanade of course. Mizuki held their trembling hand, squeezing every time the the man's name was called. The same name that would be spoken if it was Kanade's father in that coffin. By the end of it, Kanade looked like someone had sucked out the life force from her veins.
"It's over." Mizuki whispered. Kanade sat lifeless, like a corpse.
"Yes." She acknowledged. She didn't move.
We shouldn't have come.
"We should leave." Mizuki whispered, leaning close to her. Kanade nodded.
Ah. She was staring at Mizuki with lifeless eyes. They really shouldn't have come. And they definitely shouldn't have stayed.
"I'm gonna help you out." Mizuki spoke carefully. There was no way to tell how present Kanade was right now. "Okay?"
"Hmm." Kanade nodded, eyelids drooping. Slowly, Mizuki slid one arm under her shoulders, using their other hand to grasp her hand and put it on their own shoulder. They stood up, also lifting the pale girl who was still way too light despite their best efforts. At least she could still walk, even if almost all her weight was being carried by Mizuki.
Kanade tuned back in halfway through the train ride. "Sorry" was the first word out of her mouth.
Sometimes Mizuki wanted to scream.
"We could have left." she said instead, trying to keep any accusations out of her voice. "Kanade you don't- you know you don't have to suffer needlessly, right? You didn't have to force yourself to sit through the whole thing until it became too painful. If you don't feel well, it's okay to leave."
Kanade averted her gaze. "Sorry. But I did have to stay."
Mizuki took a pained breath. "Why?"
Kanade shrugged. "Because I was happy for a second that it wasn't dad. That it wasn't someone I loved. That's so selfish you know? He was a person with people who loved him. I can't ever stop being selfish, can I? I deserved any pain I felt."
As she spoke, Mizuki could feel her own eyes get wet. She reached up to wipe them. "I hope one day you can love yourself as much as I love you, Kanade."
Kanade remained silent. Her small body still resting against Mizuki, she still felt so far away.
"What if the next one is you?" she whispered. Mizuki couldn't see her eyes from their current position. "What if the next one is one of you? What if this was for someone else? What if I sat there in that row, alone, because you were the one in that coffin?"
Ah.
"I'm not dying." Mizuki whispered. It felt wrong to say this out loud, to bring into existence the words that weren't entirely true. "I'm here."
Kanade turned around, burying her face into their side. "Don't lie to me, please. I'm not stupid Mizuki. Neither are you."
Their heart felt like it was being stabbed by a thousand needles.
"We really think alike, huh?" Mizuki laughed sadly. "Do you want to be buried in that suit, Kanade?"
Eyes still concealed in their jacket, the composer simply shrugged. "Any suit works. I just want to be hidden."
Mizuki reached up their free hand to brush through the tangles in the silky hair. "Alright."
Their jacket had slipped up a bit, probably from Kanade's movements. The exposed sliver of their skin was wet with tears.
Mizuki continued brushing, the rhythmic movement was soothing.
Eventually there were no tangles left. Truly a miracle.
"Please don't die." Mizuki begged. "Not yet. Please."
Kanade nodded, her forehead brushing against their collar at the movement. "You too."
Mizuki laughed. Why were their eyes getting blurry too?
"Alright." they said. "Promise."