In the bathroom of Momo's house, Ayaka sat on the toilet with an overly serious expression, fingertips pressed together like some scheming anime villain. On the outside she looked calm, but inside her mind was a battlefield of concerns and impure thoughts.
'Holy shit, I think I'm going to die.' Her heartbeat pounded like a drum inside her chest. 'You know what, screw it, I'm done thinking. The more I think, the worse it gets. No more thoughts, zero brain cells, that's the plan.'
With that ridiculous resolve, Ayaka finally hopped into the shower.
The pajamas Momo had lent her were surprisingly bigger than expected, about one or two sizes larger than what Momo herself would normally wear. They fit Ayaka perfectly. 'They smell just like her… Wait, that's kind of creepy.'
When she stepped out of the bathroom, Momo took one look at her and instantly burst into laughter. The reason was simple: the only thing that actually fit Ayaka was an oversized shark onesie. She looked absolutely ridiculous.
"I don't know what you're laughing about. I look magnificent," Ayaka declared smugly.
"I never said you didn't." Momo froze the moment the words left her mouth, both of them turning bright red. "Y-you just look really goofy, that's all! Come here and sit down, you need to brush your hair."
It was true that Ayaka's hair needed attention, and she'd been planning to do it herself. But she decided on an all-or-nothing gamble. "Why don't you brush it for me? I bet you'd do a fantastic job."
'In the immortal words of Shaq, you miss one hundred percent of the shots you don't take,' she thought as she crossed her fingers mentally.
"Alright," Momo agreed easily. She shifted further back on the bed, leaning against the pillows. "Sit in front of me."
Ayaka obeyed, and Momo began brushing her hair. The room grew quiet, Ayaka too anxious to speak, Momo too focused. She found the long, delicate strands soothing to work through, like a ritual. Ayaka's hair was one of her proudest features, cared for daily until it fell smooth as silk down to her waist.
After some time, Momo finally set the brush aside. "There. Brushed to perfection."
"Thanks, Momo. So, what now?" Ayaka asked, though exhaustion was beginning to creep in.
"Honestly, I'm getting sleepy. But if you want to do something, I don't mind."
"Maybe we can just lie down and talk? There's still a lot we don't know about each other."
Momo nodded, turning off the lights and leaving only a faint glow from the nightlight. Their silhouettes rested close together on the bed, the atmosphere soft and intimate.
"So," Momo began, her tone warm, "what do you want to know about me?"
Ayaka had so many things she wanted to ask, questions that made her heart race, questions she wasn't ready for. 'Do you like women?' 'Do you like me?' The very thought of a rejection made her terrified.
"You go first," she said quickly. "Maybe once I hear your questions, I'll think of something."
"Alright…" Momo tapped her chin, wanting to ask something meaningful. After a pause, she spoke. "What's the happiest memory you have?"
To most people, that question would bring only smiles. But for Ayaka, it dug up something far heavier. Memories of her mother surged forward, and before she realized it, tears slipped silently down her cheeks.
The first memory was from when she was ten years old, when her mother first introduced her to Western music. The Strokes, Radiohead, Avenged Sevenfold, Muse, sounds that tied mother and daughter together. They went to concerts, swapped songs, shared late-night listening sessions. Music became their bond, unbreakable. Almost unbreakable.
"Ayaka? Did you fall asleep?" Momo asked softly. The dim light made it impossible for her to see Ayaka's face.
"N-no, I'm still awake…" Ayaka's trembling voice broke the silence, followed by muffled whimpers.
"Are you… crying? Did I say something wrong?" Momo panicked, startled by the reaction.
And then she remembered Jirō's words from the day before.
At the mall, while they were eating, Jirō had leaned in with a serious expression. "Listen, I'll tell you something, but under no circumstance can you let Ayaka know this came from me. Got it?"
"Of course," Momo had promised.
"Alright… something happened in her family a few months ago. I won't tell you what, because it's not my place, but it was serious. When Ayaka's hurt, she puts on this tough, confident mask. Even when she cracks, she tries to hold everything in. I've never seen her let go completely. Ever. If you notice she's not okay, don't let her bottle it up. Help her get it out. Please."
Back in the present, Momo saw Ayaka trying to turn her face away, rubbing at her eyes with the pillow.
"I'm fine, don't wo—"
Before she could finish, Momo pulled her into a fierce hug.
"I told you, I'm fine!" Ayaka protested weakly, trying to push her away.
"Please… don't push me away." Momo's voice was steady, almost pleading. "It's okay. You don't have to hold it in. Talk to me. Cry if you need to. Just… don't do it alone."
Ayaka froze. Her hands, which had been resisting, clutched Momo's back instead. Her defenses shattered.
And for the first time in months, Ayaka broke down completely.
The sound of her sobs filled the room. Her tears soaked Momo's pajamas, her cries deafening any other sound. Momo held her tighter, whispering quiet reassurances, not letting go.
She stayed like that for hours, arms wrapped around Ayaka as if to shield her from everything. Only when Ayaka's sobs faded into soft breathing did she realize the girl had fallen asleep in her arms.
Momo brushed damp strands of hair from Ayaka's face, guilt twisting inside her. They had been friends for over a month, and she had been oblivious to the weight Ayaka carried.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered, though Ayaka could not hear.
And so she continued to hold her, long after her own eyes grew heavy, until they both finally slipped into sleep.
Ayaka woke slowly, her body heavy and her eyes sore. It took her a moment to register where she was, until the faint scent of lavender shampoo and the softness of the sheets reminded her.
Her face instantly lit up to a shade of red she had never discovered before, as she realized she was still in the arms of her crush, the memories of last night flooding back.
'I can't believe I did that. Well… I do feel a lot better than I have in such a long time. She studied her own thoughts and found that, despite all the embarrassment, she felt strangely at ease. I can't even remember the last time I cried like that, especially in front of someone.'
Leaning closer, Ayaka gave Momo a shy kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for listening to me," she whispered, smiling softly.
She did not know how much time passed until Momo stirred awake. Her head was resting on Ayaka's shoulder, and with every breath she took, that intoxicating fragrance drifted into Ayaka's senses.
Momo slowly opened her eyes, her lips curving into a heartfelt smile before she hugged Ayaka again. "Good morning, Ayaka," she murmured, her hand gently running through Ayaka's hair. "Are you feeling better now? If you're comfortable, you can tell me what happened."
"I'll only tell you after we have breakfast." Ayaka forced a small laugh. This wasn't a conversation she wanted to have on an empty stomach.
Together, they moved to the kitchen. Ayaka did most of the cooking while Momo acted as her "assistant." This morning, they both wanted something a little more filling, so they sat down to a proper spread of miso soup, rice, fish, and eggs.
While they ate, Momo asked again, her voice soft.
Ayaka put down her chopsticks and answered, "My mom… she passed away a few months ago. When you asked about my happiest memories, most of them were with her."
Momo's expression turned tender. She reached out and gently took Ayaka's hand, holding it tight. Ayaka intertwined their fingers, her chest warming at the contact.
"I'm so sorry that happened to you," Momo whispered, her thumb brushing softly against Ayaka's skin.
And in that quiet morning light, Momo realized something with absolute clarity. That was the day she fell in love with her friend.