Hanahaki (Hanabi, Kagura x Hayabusa)

1. Contemporary

It was just the two of us at first.

Our meeting was coincidental, spurred on entirely by the adults around us. We met often in those social events that exclusively invited Japanese families, because people of the same blood have to stay together, my parents said. 

I was never sociable; not as a child, and definitely not now. The vague feeling of familiarity was the only thing that drove me to you in the sea of unfamiliar children, to the point that I can't remember an event where I wasn't beside you. 

Our parents say we're just gender bent versions of each other. We always wore red and black, had the same hobbies (video games, hiking), was interested in the same sports (badminton), did well in the same subjects (geography, math).  I used to believe that was the case, I truly did. And then when we were put together in the same class eight years in a row, I thought fate must want our roads to entwine. Quite a romantic thought, though I don't like to admit it. 

Then I found out this is like when my father told me that us Japanese were smarter than the Americans just to encourage me to do better in school, or how my mother told me I was the prettiest girl in the room. It's all lies parents get away with because children are too stupid to tell otherwise. 

Feeling like the protagonist of your own story only really works until the harsh reality of the world hits you like a brick and makes you realise you're more a clog in the system than a shining diamond. 

And this brick, happened to come in the form of Onmyouji Kagura in eighth grade. If quintessence had a human form it would be her. Pretty, kind, rich, smart, well-liked, and that last part applied to everyone. This isn't how stories work; I'm supposed to have a perfectly justifiable reason to despise the popular, pretty girl that caused a wedge in my childhood friendship. 

And that wedge came in the form of Kagura and my childhood friend's perfect relationship. 

As much as I want to cry and whine about how unfair life is, it angers me even more than she's so hard to hate. I wanted her life to be ruined, but she's my best friend, and I'd hate for anything bad to happen to her. 

But when I look at you, and how it seems that the only angle I see your face these days is when you're turned to the other side, looking at her, I feel like a terrible person. 

"Yo, isn't this pretty?" You nudge me. A small, sponge penguin keychain sits on the palm of your fingers. Pressing on it creates a dent that slowly rose back up in objection cutely. 

"How much is it?"

"Ten dollars."

I squint my eyes at the thought of spending that much money on something that wasn't a necessity. It meant a whole day of starving. 

You continue, despite my expression, "You think Kagura would like it?"

"It's like way overpriced," I reinforce again, but also with a repressed feeling of wanting to create a crack in your perfect relationship that is far down enough for me to ignore.  

"Yeah, but you think she'd like it?"

I rolled my eyes, "Insert obligatory 'I love my gf so much uwuwu' here"

You narrow your eyes at me with exaggerated tiredness but your smile betrays your expression, "Just tell me if she'll like it or not, dumbass."

"How would I know? She's your girlfriend."

"Yeah, but you two share a girl to girl connection. Or something."

"Lesbians."

"Exactly."

"Yeah, I guess. It's cute. But it's still like ten-"

When Kagura was involved, you seem to completely forget the concept of money, or time, or exhaustion, or anything a regular human would be incapacitated by.

It sways from your middle finger as we make our way back to Hanzo (also he's here) and Kagura, who are already at McDonald's. You give her a kiss, and not wanting to seem like I care, I fix my eyes on the table and sit down in front of Hanzo. He jokes about your relationship after you sit down next to me, and like muscle memory, I smile at Hanzo's joke but say nothing else. 

That's the best way to handle such situations, I've come to learn. I seem to have a hard time facing the reality that this story isn't mine. 

Another normal day in our friend group, where two people share secrets that the other two aren't privy to. A perfectly, stable, and balanced friend group with no hidden malice or jealousy.