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Jurina exhaled the smoke from her cigarette and said, “Look, about that time—”
“It’s fine,” Haruka interrupted, “I was the one who acted out of line. Leave it in the past.”
“Okay,” Jurina said after a pause. “Okay, sure.”
She took another drag of her cigarette and blew a thin stream of smoke out of her mouth. It was early March and the sun was just starting to crawl out from the horizon. Jurina had been smoking on a park bench in Tokyo when Haruka nearly jogged past her. Nearly, because Jurina was sleep-deprived enough to call out to her former senior without thinking.
Jurina spread her arms across the back of the bench. “It’s been ten years, huh? Naoe-senpai?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t look like you changed much.”
Haruka still sat the same way: legs close together, hands folded in her lap. She was wearing a tastefully plain jogging outfit free of wrinkles, the all-black a little like their old school uniforms. (Jurina felt a bit self-conscious in her rumpled band hoodie and dirty sneakers.) Her cheekbones were a bit more prominent, but that’s it.
“I suppose so,” Haruka said.
“This is the first time I’ve actually met—really talked to someone from Romana since I left, you know?”
“I see.”
“It’s good to still see someone. From before.” Jurina flicked the ash from her cigarette as she winced internally. She needed to stop sounding so desperate.
“My sister teaches at Romana. She tells me that the school holds stage productions and an annual open day, which many past students still attend. Perhaps they may interest you.”
“Do any of—you know, do people from our year still go?”
Haruka paused and looked away. “No one we know well. From my experience, and from what my sister tells me.”
“Okay.” Jurina expected an answer like that, but it was worth a shot anyway. “Do you go back to Romana then? When there’s a play and stuff?”
“Very rarely, due to my schedule.”
“Wow, what’s got you so booked?”
“I’m in the New National Troupe. They naturally require a demanding schedule.”
“Wait, for real? Congratulations! You’re the best in the nation now!”
Jurina very nearly grabbed Haruka’s shoulder, but she settled for gripping the back of the bench instead.
“Thank you.” The corner of Haruka’s mouth twitched. “What do you do now?”
“I’m lead vocals and backup guitar for The Daybreakers.” Jurina took a drag and slowly exhaled the smoke, just to complete the rockstar look. “Shiki’s lead guitar, Natsu’s the bassist, and Rio’s on drums. We just finished a three-hour set in the nearby live house several hours ago, you know? ”
“Then shouldn’t you be sleeping, after such a tiring performance?”
“Oh, I’m fine. I can’t sleep anyway. My sleep gets screwed whenever we’re on tour, because of the schedules and the adrenaline and other stuff.”
“You should take a nap later.” Haruka’s brow furrowed slightly.
“Nah, I have rehearsal.”
“You won’t have energy for rehearsal if you don’t sleep.”
“I’ll be fine. Energy drinks and coffee are my lifesavers for this. Like, Rio recommended this really strong energy drink brand to me. It’s been saving my ass this tour.”
Upon seeing Haruka’s expression of disapproval, Jurina added, “Do you know what I like to do, for emergencies?”
“No.”
“I mix two cups of black coffee and two cans of energy drinks together to make my special energy cocktail. Once I used it to get through two back-to-back sets, a full meet-and-greet, and a TV filming!”
Haruka sucked in a breath. The corner of her mouth twitched again. “You failed to absorb all those suggestions that I gave you back then.”
“What the hell, I did listen to you—I ate rice and salad at lunch for weeks!”
“And I’d still catch you bringing in junk food and eating it in breaks.”
“Like you didn’t ask me to share the food with you!”
“A mistake on my part.”
“Yeah, remember that you liked the Beef and Pepper-flavoured chips so much, I bought an extra bag for you, and you never paid me back?”
“You refused to accept my payment, because of your archaic code or something.”
“Don’t insult my code of honour; it’s my whole identity,” Jurina laughed. She couldn’t resist lightly punching Haruka’s shoulder.
Haruka shoved Jurina back more firmly, but she was smiling. The early morning light glinted in her slightly crinkled eyes.
She rarely smiled for real back when they were students. One of the occasions where she did was when Jurina would pass her those Beef and Pepper chips. It was a shame, because Haruka looked really good when she smiled. Like she was a little smug, or she’d just won something over you, without even spending any effort to do it—
Jurina should stop staring or it’d be weird. She turned her gaze towards her cigarette; the faint orange spark at the burning end. Took another couple drags, a slight bitterness in her mouth.
She felt the familiar scrutiny of cool blue eyes—Haruka was staring at the cigarette in her hand, her face expressionless again.
“Does it bother you?” Jurina asked. “The smoking, I mean.”
“No.”
“Okay.” Jurina snuffed out her cigarette on the cement ground. She stood up, walked to the wooden trash can across the bench, and chucked her cigarette into the bin.
“I said it didn’t bother me,” said Haruka while Jurina sat down again.
“You were staring.”
“I’m just curious as to why you’d smoke. Wouldn’t it damage your vocal capability?”
“I’ve heard about that before, but…” Jurina waved her hand non-committantly, “whatever. I mean—”
“You should know that most nobody in New National smokes because of this.”
“Well, band people don’t care as much because they smoke too. I mean, Shiki and Natsu smoke even more than me.” Jurina grinned. “And everyone says I’m one of the best vocalists in the scene anyway.”
“In the scene.”
“In the band scene. You should know, everyone there—my friends, my fans, the music critics—they’ve been saying I’m the best ever since I joined The Daybreakers. And I’ve been in The Daybreakers for nearly a decade now—”
“Aikawa. Why did you give up on being a stage girl?”
What the fuck?
Haruka took Jurina’s stunned silence as an opportunity to repeat her question: “I know you transferred out of Romana some time after I graduated. Why did you give up?”
“Okay, what does this have to do with anything?” Jurina was starting to regret throwing away her cigarette.
“I asked you a question. Answer it.”
“Seriously, is this an interrogation? Really unfair to do that when I haven’t slept.” There was still a pack in her pocket.
“Don’t change the subject, Aikawa.”
“Then tell me why you’re asking!” Jurina’s throat itched.
“I’m simply curious. Now answer my question.”
One last valiant and futile effort: “Why do I have to listen to you? You aren’t my senior anymore.”
“You know I’m right,” Haruka enunciated slowly, like she was explaining something to a kid. “You gave up. So tell me why.”
“Give me a break first,” muttered Jurina.
She reached into her pocket and took out her carton of cigarettes, but a hand snatched the pack away.
“What the hell are you doing?” Jurina yelled in surprise, nearly falling off the bench to stop Haruka as the other woman quickly tossed the pack into the wooden trash can. “Come on, I got that pack from Shiki!”
“You don’t need another break. Answer me without any distractions,” Haruka stated evenly while she sat back down on the bench.
“I can’t believe this,” groaned Jurina.
Haruka no longer replied, but her eyes continued boring into Jurina’s. Two rings of icy blue. Jurina didn’t know it was possible to sweat under something so cold.
“Fine,” Jurina huffed. “Stage acting was stuffy and not as fun anymore. I like being in a band way more. And I like the bonds I have with my bandmates. They’re my family, even if we fight sometimes. Like, they remind me of Romana—”
“Romana?”
“I mean, yeah—we had a bond too. Once.”
“I see.” Haruka looked away from Jurina. “You are mistaken, anyway. There were never such bonds in our time at Romana.”
“Not true,” muttered Jurina.
“Why so, Aikawa?”
Hands running through her hair, Jurina stood up and started pacing in front of the bench.
“Look, I know everyone keeps denying this, but you guys must have felt it too. We did have a bond. At least we did, before the group split up—before you kicked out Mikoto to become the Caligula. And then Azuma transferred too, to avoid Kobato—”
“Are you blaming me for this, Aikawa?” Haruka’s eyes narrowed. “I did everyone a favour by removing the incompetent Aragami. Meanwhile you were the one who constantly argued with me and Kobato-san. Starting duels over the most trivial of subjects. So, I think you yourself were responsible for the dissolution of whatever bonds you speak of—”
“You hypocrite,” Jurina snapped, stopping in front of Haruka, who didn’t deserve what’s left of Jurina’s tact anymore. “You kept arguing with Nadeshiko too, didn’t you? You were always too harsh on her, even when I kept telling you that she’d gone through a lot!”
“Gone through what, exactly?”
“Like seeing that washed-up idol, and then finding out Kobato was just using her!”
Haruka got up and stared into Jurina’s eyes. Somewhere in the middle of Jurina’s fucked-up, pissed-off mind, she noticed dully that they were both the same height, even after all those years.
“Just as Soga,” Haruka stated, “it’s Sumeragi’s own fault that she couldn’t get over her personal problems.” Her jaw tightened. “You did not need to coddle her.”
“What is wrong with you?!” Voice breaking again, Jurina shoved Haruka so hard that the other woman stumbled a little. “You don’t care about anyone, do you!”
“Don’t push me, Aikawa.” Haruka shoved Jurina back, face like a mask.
“Answer me! You don’t fucking care, isn’t that right?!”
Haruka didn’t break eye contact, but she was silent.
“I knew it,” spat Jurina. “This is why I stuck with my band instead—we actually care for each other!”
“If your band really cared about you, they wouldn’t indulge your smoking. Or your insomnia. Or your atrocious ways to handle it.”
“Leave them out of this, Naoe. You don’t even know them!”
“You know I’m right.” (Was it imagination, or was Haruka’s voice quieter?) “They wouldn’t let you ruin your health like this if they cared.”
Jurina broke out into mirthless laughter. “So now you act like you care, huh?”
Haruka looked away for a split second. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Bullshit. Stop lying.”
“Just leave it in the past. I already said I acted out of line.”
“You coward—so now you know what I mean, huh?”
Haruka didn’t reply. Jurina stepped closer to her, their faces only a few inches away from each other. She stared into Haruka’s eyes, daring her to not flinch away, and said:
“You kissed me in that practice room after you beat me in our last duel, a week before you graduated. Then you avoided me every time I tried to talk to you about it. You ignored all of my messages when I texted you after you left. I stopped trying after a few times, because what’s the point?”
Deep breath. Don’t back down, especially now. Jurina continued, keeping her voice level:
“So it’s too late to act like you care, Haruka. What you did hurt. It still—I don’t know, I just—why did you kiss me in the first place?”
Haruka stayed silent.
“I thought it was some new acting method. Or was it just a prank, huh?”
“No, it wasn’t anything like that.”
“So what was it?”
“Let’s just drop this, Aikawa.”
“I’ll be honest,” Jurina snapped, “I left Romana because you were the last straw on top of everything else too, okay? I need to know.”
Sunlight seared the underside of grey clouds. Blue eyes drifted away, then returned.
“Alright,” Haruka said slowly. “I liked you. Then I realised anything further would have distracted me from what I was working towards. What I have now.”
Footsteps in the distance. A man jogged past the two of them and threw a glance, before disappearing into the nearby trees.
The kiss had been brief—Haruka had pressed a bit too hard, but Jurina didn’t mind. She kind of liked it. The moment they parted, Haruka had rushed out of the room, leaving Jurina alone, the room dim from the setting sun outside the windows.
Throat dry, Jurina said, “You’re a real coward, Haruka.”
She turned away and walked towards the wooden trash can. Looked down and stared at her forcefully discarded cigarette pack, limp on top of a wrinkled plastic bag. Next to it, a couple of beer cans glinted.
Jurina remembered something else: a few hours after Haruka had kissed her, she had been sitting in her dorm room listening to her rock playlist, thinking about buying Haruka lunch or another bag of chips. Jurina had been confused about the kiss and a little mad about losing what could be their final duel, but she was willing to put it aside. Start anew. Make a peace offering for everything in the past months. They could go to the new cafe across the campus which had a lot of tea drinks—Haruka liked tea—and buy the chips after. Go on a weekend since Haruka was always busy. One day, Jurina had thought then, they’d find the time.
She turned back—Haruka hadn’t moved, her arms perfectly straight at her sides.
The glare of the morning sun burned Jurina’s eyes. It was cold. She wiped her nose with her hand.
Jurina said, “You owe me, you know.”
“Alright.” Haruka gave a quick nod. “If you want a favour, I’m still rather new in the business so I haven’t established many connections yet. But I will try my best.”
“No,” Jurina laughed weakly, “I don’t care about that. Just buy me another pack of cigarettes, since you threw mine away.”
“I will not be doing that.”
“Okay. What else can you do for me?”
After a few moments, Haruka spoke: “Alright, fine. Just one.”