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In Your Absence


By: BunsRevenge. Originally published to AO3.


“What are we doing?” Kaoruko asks, walking along beside Maya and Mahiru and trying to keep up with the conversation. “I came here to surprise Futaba and now you’re dragging me all over Tokyo.”

Mahiru smiles kindly at Kaoruko, and they buzz into the station. “We’re going to see a band, and we’re going to meet Futaba there.”

“A band? Futaba doesn’t like going to concerts!”

Maya shrugs. “I didn’t think I’d like it either, but it’s actually quite enjoyable.”

They ride the train in relative silence, Kaoruko switching between pouting, inquiring over the details of the venue, and texting Futaba moodily. She doesn’t reveal that she’s in Tokyo, but she implies that she heard that Futaba, Maya, and Mahiru are going to concerts now and she’s concerned about this development.

“What kind of show even is this?” she asks, eyeing the chains and studs on the attendees queuing outside the livehouse.

“Ah, it’s a punk band,” Mahiru supplies, as if this was the most normal answer in the world and their attire did not stick out terribly.

Kaoruko nearly turns away, but surprisingly, it’s Maya’s hand on her arm that stills her. “Just come in for a bit, Kaoruko. At least to surprise Futaba, and then we can leave.”

Kaoruko wonders when, if ever, Maya has asked something of her, and she concedes, paying the measly 500 yen for the ticket and going inside. She buys a drink to sip on while she looks around for Futaba, but it’s difficult, with no cell service in the building and so many people lining up to see the band.

It’s quiet at least as the techs are setting up the stage, but she’s distracted from her search as the loud strum of an electric guitar comes in, and her focus is turned to the stage, where there’s none other than Futaba - standing center stage and gripping the microphone. Kaoruko realizes she’s been set up. Futaba’s wearing a leather jacket, her hair spiked up a bit, a studded choker adorning her neck. She looks incredible.

Kaoruko knows Mahiru and Maya are looking at her, trying to gauge her reaction and shock, so she keeps her focus on Futaba for a while longer to train her visage. Any progress she had been making is ruined as Futaba begins to sing, and it’s nothing like her theater singing, but she sounds good.

Kaoruko doesn’t know the song, she doesn’t know if it’s a cover or an original, but the band is playing well and Futaba is singing passionately, and the crowd is jumping and cheering and she is overwhelmed. She has no choice but to turn to Mahiru and Maya with a questioning gaze asking ’What the hell is this?’

Mahiru has her usual congenial smile on, and Maya’s gaze is still locked on the stage with a confident smirk. Kaoruko knew Futaba would do well at the New National Theater, but to have the confidence and talent to join a punk band in her spare time? With no prior training? She sips harder on the drink, inadvertently bouncing to the catchy beat.

After the set, it takes a while to meet up with Futaba, since she has to greet several fans and help her bandmates pack up. By the time she joins them at the bar, Kaoruko has forgotten she was surprising Futaba, and is surprised when Futaba looks genuinely shocked to see her there.

“You… you’re here?” she asks, her face halfway between surprise and delight. “You caught the show?”

“Yes, I caught the show, Futaba-han. Now can we get some dinner? I’m starving.”

Her reply is nearly cut off as she is wrapped in a tight embrace from Futaba. It’s a little sweaty, and a little firmer than she remembers, but she realizes that she didn’t know she missed the touch until she had it again. When they pull apart, she blinks back tears before anyone can see them.

“Sure, let’s get dinner,” Futaba says softly.

They walk behind Maya and Mahiru, and Kaoruko slips her hand into Futaba’s. It’s the same hand, they fit together like always, but it’s changed since she’s visited last. There’s new calluses, there’s a slightly different grip. “You did well,” she says, quiet enough that the others can’t hear.

“You think so? I’m still absolutely an amateur…”

“You could have fooled me.”

Kaoruko wonders if Futaba will be surprised when she comes back to Kyoto, at the leaps and bounds she’s improved in Futaba’s absence. How she can ride the bike properly now, how she can cook, how her dancing has evolved. It makes her nervous, these gaps, like rifts between them that separate them from being two halves of a whole.

“I want to get better and better, since I know you are,” Futaba says.

“What’s this?” Kaoruko asks, her voice rising to her usual snobby tone, despite her self-doubt.

“I’m always thinking of you. How you try your best every day. I’m doing the same.”

She adjusts Futaba's leather choker, mostly looking for a distraction. “My mother isn’t going to be happy you’re a punk with a motorcycle…”

Futaba laughs, the light, airy sound that Kaoruko missed so much while in Kyoto. "It's certainly a change," she agrees. "Oh, this restaurant is good, you'll love it. Let's stop here and you can tell me all about what you and your family are up to. You have to hear about what happened to Maya last week!"

They turn into the restaurant, the four of them tucking into a small booth. And there, cuddled against the arm of Futaba, Kaoruko realizes that maybe the differences between them- the growth they are experiencing apart- perhaps those things aren’t rifts. Just roots anchoring them deeper, binds helping to secure them more firmly in their relationship.

“Sure, sure,” Kaoruko says, fussing over Futaba’s spiky hair. “But first, you need to tell me how this-” she gestures to Futaba’s whole ensemble, “Came to be.”