Aya oosawa

The bar smells good. Aya has always found alcohol to be a fun way to avoid feeling blue.

Narita and Shu make her feel...at ease. Like even the thickest tension can be sliced through without much ceremony. Even so, it doesn't always fix the things she wants it to fix. Like her heart. Her lying problem. Her relationship.

Mitsuki won't even look at her. She's over there, just out of reach, chatting up some other girl. Some other pretty girl. A pretty girl that's not Aya.

Aya downs another beer. She's already tipsy. Her head feels fuzzy. Unclear. It's unclear why Mitsuki doesn't want to talk to her. Why she's avoiding her, distancing herself, quitting music. Is Aya not helpful enough? Does she give bad advice, is she overbearing? Has she gotten...boring?

Does Mitsuki even love her at all anymore...?

Aya hiccups, and she feels it, as her head falls to rest on Shu's shoulder. Tears. She could play them off to her drunkenness. She always cries anyway.

A glass clicks behind her somewhere. She's tired. So tired, of fighting a battle that feels one-sided. Like she's swinging at air.

—

Home isn't much better.

Mitsuki insisted they leave after Aya got too clingy with Shu, draped on her shoulders. Aya can't tell if she did it out of embarrassment or jealousy. Maybe both.

She's been quiet, through their ascent back up to their apartment. Aya hasn't stopped crying.

"Do you still love me?" Aya hiccups when Mitsuki gets the key in the door. There's a pregnant pause. A silence that feels like the end of the world, maybe.