i'm almost me again (she's almost you) • satzu

13

Down comes rain drop, bubble follows;

On the house-top one by one

Flock the synagogue of swallows

- Theophile Gautier. Life, a Bubble. A Bird's-Eye View Thereof.

-

Tzuyu woke the next morning to the soft sound of rain falling against the shingled roof, somewhat muffled because of the ivy, and weak sunlight brightening the room as she blearily blinked herself awake. A sliver of grey sky was visible through a gap in the curtains and she groaned as she realised where she was and the series of events the night before that had led to that point.

Pushing herself up, she looked around, breathing in the old wood and varnish smell as dust motes spiralled through the air, trapped in a narrow shaft of light. Her body felt heavy, and the thought of more sleep was tempting, but Tzuyu found herself alert. Too awake. Running a hand through her tousled hair, she yawned wide enough to make her jaw crack, and dug the heel of her palm in her eye socket as she rubbed away the last vestiges of sleep.

Falling back against the pillows, she stared up at the dark beams stretching the length of the room. Chickens clucked outside, sounding forlorn in the damp weather, and Tzuyu went limp against the mattress, eyes closing as she breathed slowly. Feeling drained, she would've been happy to hide in there forever, unable to find the effort to rouse herself.

And then there was a gentle rap on the door, so quiet that she wasn't sure whether she'd imagined it or not. If she'd been asleep she wouldn't have even heard it. Sitting up, the old springs in the mattress groaning as she shifted, she looked towards the door, beyond the pile of furniture.

"Hello?"

"Oh," came Sana's muffled surprise behind the closed door, "you're awake."

A quiet laugh fell from Tzuyu's lips and she swung her legs out of bed, the floorboards cold even through her fuzzy socks, and she padded through the stacks of furniture towards the door, pulling it open to reveal the other woman. Blonde hair drawn back from her face, an air of tiredness around her as if she hadn't had her first coffee yet, wearing a thin grey sweater with the sleeves rolled up. It made her eyes look bluer.

"Good morning!"

"Hi."

"Um, do you want coffee?"

Tzuyu cocked her head to the side, watching the way Sana gingerly smiled, as if unsure of Tzuyu's answer. Biting her lip softly, Tzuyu smiled faintly, remembering all the times she'd ever been that way. Of course it had been different for her; she'd had feelings for Mina, and had been young and blundering in trying to figure out whether Mina felt the same way about her. But Sana was just being nice. Nice and unsure of how aloof and contrary Tzuyu was feeling that morning.

"Coffee would be great."

The smile that flashed briefly across Sana's face made Tzuyu feel oddly warm inside, and she found herself confused about how much she missed that feeling. She didn't know what it was about Sana that brought back such strong memories of Mina, only that there were moments where Tzuyu felt okay, and she didn't know how to reconcile that with the parts of her that weren't.

Stepping out of the bedroom, she followed Sana downstairs, behind the counter with some trepidation, and hovered in the doorway of the kitchen as if held back by an invisible boundary. Watching as Sana plucked a clean apron from a row of hooks crowded with more aprons and dish towels, Tzuyu leant against the door frame and watched her tie it around her waist with deft movements.

Turning on the old gas stove, Sana set a frying pan down and an old cast-iron kettle, before she moved quickly back and forth, fetching butter and eggs, tomatoes, mushrooms, sausages and bacon. Finding herself drawn into the room, Tzuyu leant against the wide island counter and watched as Sana cut a knob of butter off the square and set it into the pan, melting quickly over the heat, before she tossed in sausages and bacon and the kettle started to faintly whistle.