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It had been two weeks since Monaka’s plan had been thwarted. Two weeks since Toko and Komaru had chosen to stay in Towa City to clean up the mess caused by children and adults alike. Two weeks of patrols, supply runs, rescue missions, and fighting their way through the countless Monokumas that the Warriors of Hope had left behind.
And, unfortunately, two weeks since Toko had last bathed.
That was the point of contention for the two girls this evening, as they glared at each other from opposite sides of their shared hotel room. Toko had her arms stubbornly crossed over her chest, reminding Komaru of a petulant child. She kept glancing at the door that led out into the hallway as if she were prepared to bolt out at any second.
“Just five minutes, Toko! That’s all I’m asking!” Komaru begged, gesturing wildly towards the bathroom door.
“No means no, you harpy!”
Komaru groaned in frustration. This was not the first time the two had argued over Toko’s lack of hygiene, but in the past Komaru had dropped the subject after Toko showed no signs of backing down. It was obviously a sore point for her and Komaru didn’t enjoy pressing the issue. At this point, however, it was just getting out of hand. And frankly, Komaru thought with annoyance, I want to cuddle her without having to take a bath myself afterwards.
“If you won’t take a bath, we’re gonna have to start sleeping in separate beds.”
That got Toko’s attention. Her eyes grew wide and she paused for a second before pointing accusingly at Komaru, her expression having morphed into one of anger and disbelief. “You would leave me to the ghosts!? All by myself!?”
It took all of Komaru’s self-control to let the ghost comment slide. Toko wasn’t fooling either of them with that. But she had been serious. “Toko, I literally need to sleep on the edge of the bed to keep away from your stink,” she said bluntly. “It makes it hard to fall asleep. And I happen to also enjoy cuddling you, which isn’t easy when you smell like a sewer rat.”
“C-c-cuddling!?” Toko exclaimed, as if it were something the girls had never done before. It was, admittedly, not common, but there had been a few nights when one of them would wake up from a nightmare, shaking and crying, and the other would wrap her in her arms and stroke her hair until she had calmed down. It was so relaxing that they would drift off again in that same position, leading to an awkward morning of tangled limbs and Toko accusing Komaru of perverted things.
“Yes, cuddling,” Komaru huffed. “I won’t be able to do that or even sleep in the same bed as you if you won't get your stink under control.”
Toko grumbled and raised her hand to her mouth, frustratedly biting the tip of her thumb. “Even if you th-threaten me,” (it was hardly a threat, Komaru thought with exasperation), “it’s not that easy for me to just g-get into the b-b-b-bath. It’s not…” she trailed off quietly, her eyes focused on the floor.
Komaru felt her annoyance ebb at the look in Toko’s eyes. She wasn’t doing this to be difficult. She was really hurting. Komaru knew this, but also knew that she needed a push or else she would never move forward.
“You don’t even have to get into the bath,” Komaru said. “You can just wash yourself with soap and water and then rinse off.”
“It’s not about being in the b-bath,” Toko snapped back. “That’s h-hardly the problem. God, you’re dense as a brick wall.”
Komaru furrowed her brow and considered Toko’s words. The insult barely registered as she tried to figure out what the problem could possibly be if it wasn’t about being in the bath. She had always assumed that Toko had some sort of trauma involving being submerged in water. Given what she knew about the writer’s upbringing, she wouldn’t put any horrid action beyond those wretched excuses for mothers. But if that wasn’t the issue, then what was?
Toko looked at Komaru and groaned. “That’s your thinking face,” she muttered.
“Sure is,” Komaru said with a gentle smile. She began walking towards the cowering girl. “Can you be honest with me, Toki? Can you please just tell me what it is that you’re scared of?”
Toko grumbled again and shook her head. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“I can try,” Komaru offered. “I’m smarter than you think, you know.”
Toko mumbled something that didn’t sound like a compliment. Komaru placed an encouraging hand on her arm. When they first met, Toko would have jumped away at this kind of physical contact. She allowed it now, though not without her eyes tracking Komaru’s every move, like a stray dog wanting to trust a human but not knowing how. After a few seconds she relaxed into the touch, but she still looked unsure.
“I really want to understand you more,” Komaru said. “I want to help you. But I can’t do that if I don’t know what the problem is. I...I care about you a lot,” she continued, trying to ignore the way her heart suddenly leapt somersaults. “But I can’t read your mind. I really need you to meet me halfway sometimes. Please?”
The older girl looked to be deep in thought, an intense blush rising to her cheeks. She still hadn’t lifted her gaze from the floor. But she wasn’t running away, and she wasn’t arguing. She seemed to be fighting a battle that Komaru couldn’t see. Finally, she let out a heavy sigh.
“Fine, w-whatever. The truth is, I…I-I, uh,” she stopped, clearly having trouble getting the words out. Komaru waited, encouragingly stroking Toko’s arm with her thumb. Toko gathered herself slowly. “I...hate seeing myself. Uh, naked. W-well, at all, haha, b-but mostly n-naked. Which you have to be to b-bathe”. She clenched her fists. “I’m ugly.”
Komaru was silent for a long moment, Toko’s words turning over in her mind as she gazed at the other girl’s face. Ugly? Toko had off-handedly described herself as such before, but Komaru had never seen her that way. Her heart fluttered as she allowed herself to examine Toko’s features closely. Her long eyelashes partially covered her smoky gray eyes as her vulnerable gaze lingered on the floor. Those big glasses, always slightly askew or falling to the tip of her nose, perfectly framed her delicate features. Her flowing, silky hair, always so tantalizingly soft that Komaru had to stop herself from reaching out and threading her fingers through it. Her smooth skin was accented by an adorable beauty mark under her lips. Her lips, which Komaru definitely did not have much to say about because she definitely did not linger on them for far too long. Her surprisingly strong arms, her slender fingers, her shapely legs, her-
Well, in summary, Komaru thought Toko to be quite beautiful.
When she had first met Toko, before the older girl began bringing down her carefully-constructed walls, many adjectives had crossed her mind that were less than nice. Mean, annoying, weird, and smelly were, admittedly, Komaru’s first impressions. Sure, weird and smelly still applied most of the time, but with a genuine fondness for the weird and a reluctant understanding of the smelly.
But ugly? Komaru had never thought that for a second. She couldn’t see what Toko saw; what she’d been teased about by kids at school for and shamed for by her mothers. Toko was certainly right about one thing: Komaru didn’t understand. But that didn’t deter her.
“You aren’t ugly,” Komaru said firmly. Toko huffed, a soft noise that practically screamed stop taking pity on me. Komaru reached out slowly, her fingers grazing Toko’s chin just enough to make her look up. Her touch was careful, feather-light as if she were handling a small animal. “You’re pretty, Toki. Like, really, really pretty.”
You’re beautiful, she wanted to scream, you’re so beautiful that it hurts, but she swallowed the words before they threatened to overwhelm her and the trembling girl alike.
Toko’s eyes widened. “I-I know y-you’re just s-s-saying that,” she argued, but she was clearly caught off-guard. Komaru couldn’t help but sadly wonder if she had ever been told such a thing before.
“Have I ever lied to you?” Komaru asked honestly. She slid her hand from Toko’s chin up to her cheek, cupping it softly. “You’re pretty. That’s a fact.”
Toko’s looked away again and her nervous energy seemed to increase tenfold in intensity, but words began falling out of her mouth as if she were desperate to prove Komaru wrong. “I h-hate...s-s-seeing myself. Every part. I’m g-gangly and my b-bones jut out a-and I have b-b-bug eyes and ugly eyebrows and bad skin and, and, and the worst part is this,” she punctuated by gesturing towards the slit in her skirt. Komaru’s eyes flitted down and the tally marks glared back. “I d-didn’t make those. S-Syo did. Ripped the skirt too. That fucking bitch.”
Komaru’s heart lurched. She had never asked about the marks before. Of course she had been curious but even she knew better than to pry about someone else’s scars. Knowing that Syo had made them, she could guess what the tally was for.
“I know they must be hard to look at,” Komaru said. “I’d make them go away if I could.”
“Yeah, well, you can’t,” Toko laughed dryly. “So there you go. Nothing to be done about it. W-washing myself is just t-too much of a thing, so let’s drop it, okay?”
“Then I’ll wash you.”
Komaru’s words surprised even herself. Both girls were stock still for a few moments before they sprang apart, the heavy atmosphere dissipating as they put some space between them.
“I mean, like, so you don’t have to look, you know?” Komaru stammered, glancing away and running her hand through her hair. “Like, if someone else is doing the washing then you don’t even need to have your eyes open, you know? You can just let me take care of you - I mean, like, ahh...” Komaru never tripped over her words like this and was almost tempted to walk them back. How could you say something so stupid, she chastised herself. She’s gonna hate you now. She’s gonna think you’re a creep. Nervously, she glanced again at Toko, trying to glean anything from her lack of a verbal reaction.
To Komaru’s surprise, while Toko did look shocked, she didn’t look angry or disgusted. She didn’t seem to know how to react. The writer pressed her fingers together and laughed nervously. “Why do you w-want to see me n-naked so badly?” Toko asked, her blush so heavy that it painted her neck pink. Her eyes were flitting around, unfocused. “W-what, are you g-g-gay or something?”
“I am not gay!” Komaru squeaked, although the voice in her head screamed otherwise. “Geez, I’m trying to do something nice for you! Don’t you want to get clean? Surely you don’t enjoy being dirty!”
Toko’s nervous smile faded. “I don’t, but…nobody’s ever o-offered to...I mean, I never th-thought that anyone would w-w-want…” she trailed off and examined Komaru’s face, searching for something. “You’re g-gonna be disgusted when you s-see me.”
“No I’m not.” Komaru had never been so sure of something in her life. Gathering her courage, she reached out and took one of Toko’s hands, her fingers mapping the many callouses that were now familiar to her. They were such small things, the most minor of the many parts that made Toko Fukawa, but Komaru knew where each one was located and what they felt like. She tenderly rubbed the small bumps inside of her fingers, the place where Syo held her scissors. “I promise.”
It took a few moments, but eventually something in her tone must have gotten through to Toko. The older girl quickly pulled her hand away as if she hadn’t been clutching back.
“F-fine. I bet you already have plenty of experience washing your brother, anyway…”
“Toko!”
The two had finally made their way into the bathroom, but Toko still made no move to undress. Instead she was staring at Komaru, as if waiting for something.
“Okay, now you have to take your clothes off,” Komaru said.
“You do it first! This was y-y-your idea!”
Komaru blanched. It occurred to her, very suddenly, that she had overlooked a vital part of this operation. If she didn’t undress as well, her clothes would get soaking wet. And she needed to wash anyway after the day’s patrol, so it made sense for them to just do it all at once. Plus, she realized, it would probably make Toko more comfortable if they were both in a similar state of undress, even if Toko was going to keep her eyes closed.
“Okay, right,” she said nervously, beginning to tug at her shirt. She had lifted it just enough to show her midriff when Toko squeaked and whipped around, covering her eyes. The tips of her ears were dusted pink.
“O-on second thought, we’ll both t-turn around un-d-d-dress, okay? That way we won’t s-see each other.”
“Literally the whole point of this is that I’m gonna see you,” Komaru sighed. “Does it really matter while we’re undressing?”
“Yes!” Toko cried, grabbing at her own hair in annoyance, and maybe it mattered more than Komaru thought it did. The younger girl turned around.
“There, I can’t see you. Let’s get undressed.”
The silence in the room was unbearable. The only sound was the rustling of clothes as each girl awkwardly disrobed. Komaru’s thoughts were running at a mile a minute as the situation finally caught up with her. She was going to be naked. In the same room as Toko. Who was also going to be naked. She was going to touch her. Naked.
Oh my God. Okay Komaru, don’t do anything weird. Don’t do anything gay.
Komaru shed down to her underwear and paused, wondering if she really needed to take off the next layer. A shy glance back at Toko confirmed, however, that the other girl was really going for it, slowly but surely she was unclasping her bra, and okay maybe Komaru should take hers off too in, like, solidarity.
When Komaru was finally ready to turn around, she saw Toko sitting on the stool next to the loose showerhead. Her eyes were tightly shut and she was wringing her hands. Her glasses sat atop the messy pile of clothes that seemed to have been kicked aside. She was hunched over and her long hair covered most of her like a curtain, but immediately Komaru caught sight of her bare chest. Don’t stare, don’t stare, don’t stare, It’s not like you’ve never seen boobs before. Averting her eyes, she reached over and turned on the showerhead, letting the water run until it was warm.
“I’m gonna get your hair wet now, okay? It’s really long so it might take me awhile to wash it.”
Toko grumbled in agreement and Komaru carefully lifted the showerhead over her. The first sprays of water hit the older girl and she flinched but said nothing. Komaru kept the showerhead angled carefully so the water didn’t get into Toko’s eyes, and gently began running her hands through the unruly hair so the underside would get wet as well. Her fingers got caught in a tangle and Toko winced.
“I d-don’t have a hair p-p-pulling kink,” Toko mumbled.
“Sorry,” Komaru whispered, noting that she absolutely had not asked. “There are a lot of tangles. I’ll try to be careful.”
She reached for the shampoo and squirted a generous amount into her palm. She rubbed her hands together and carefully got to work lathering up the waterfall of hair. She started at the bottom, gathering up the loose ends and slowly pulling them upwards until a soapy crown of hair sat atop Toko’s head. She reached in, pressing her fingers against Toko’s scalp and rubbing there. That was when she heard it, and her heart just about burst out of her chest when she did.
Toko had moaned.
It was, undoubtedly, a sound of pleasure. She couldn’t help but swoon a bit at the idea that she was making Toko feel good. For Toko’s part, she had grown stiff, seemingly embarrassed by the sound she had made.
Komaru stroked the top of Toko’s head. “You can make whatever sounds you like,” she said. I want to hear you make that sound a million more times, she thought. “I’m basically giving you a head massage, after all. I won’t think it’s weird.”
Toko didn’t reply, but leaned back into Komaru’s touch. The younger girl grinned and got back to work. She pressed her fingers into her temples, ran them all through her scalp, traced patterns in slow, tender motions. With every pass of her hand Toko seemed to grow less tense and more willing to be vocal in her appreciation.
Her eyes were still screwed shut but her body had practically melted into Komaru’s touch. Her heart swelled with emotion at how much trust Toko was placing in her.
“I’ll rinse your hair and then we can move on to your body.”
While rinsing out her hair, Komaru kept her attention fixed on Toko’s face. She seemed to be growing nervous again, which did not come as a surprise to Komaru. She was, after all, about to intimately touch the thing that Toko hated most: her own body.
Showerhead set aside, Komaru poured body wash onto the loofah and again positioned herself behind Toko. She figured that working her way down would be best, and would start with her back. She swept Toko’s long hair aside. Gently she dragged the loofah up and down, fully lathering the slope of her back.
Next were her arms. She held Toko’s right arm with one hand and washed it with the other. She couldn’t help but admire the lean muscle there, courtesy of Syo. Komaru knew that Toko was surprisingly strong, given how Syo downed Monokumas with ease, but because of her long sleeves she had never gotten the chance to really admire them. She couldn’t help but give the bicep a small squeeze, and swooned at the firm muscle beneath. Komaru had wondered on more than one occasion what it would feel like to get carried in those arms. She usually liked to think of herself as an independent girl who didn’t need to be taken care of, but some of that independence faltered when she thought of how nice it would be to get spoiled by Toko. Or Syo, for that matter. Toko would carry her bridal style and Syo would just sling her over her shoulder. Both sounded nice in their own way, and Syo would probably do it if she asked...
“Uh, Komaru? I think that arm is good now.”
“Oh!” Komaru snapped out of her daydream, realizing she had been rubbing Toko’s bicep for much longer than necessary. “Ahaha, sorry about that.”
“...Whatever.”
She quickly moved over and repeated the process on Toko’s left arm, spending considerably less time with her muscles. Okay, she mentally prepared herself when she was done. Now comes the...challenging part.
Washing Toko’s front.
She stood up on shaky legs and wrung the loofah nervously. “Next I need to do the, uh, the front. Like, you know, the front-front. …Is that okay?”
“I know what the f-front is. J-just get it over with. Pervert.” The insult was quiet and sounded more like an afterthought than anything else. Komaru knew by now that, coming from Toko, words like “pervert” held no weight. She was just projecting. Still, Komaru couldn’t help but feel a bit awkward; in this situation, Toko wasn’t entirely wrong.
She walked around Toko and kneeled in front of her. She would wash her chest first, she decided, and would try not to touch anything sensitive.
She really tried not to stare as she worked. Toko’s eyes may have been closed but that was just all the more reason why Komaru felt she would be taking advantage if she looked too much. She tried to pinpoint focus on the exact area she was washing, just enough to see what she was doing. Toko was trusting Komaru with her body and the last thing Komaru wanted to do was betray that trust. Even if the rivulets of water dancing down the curves of her breasts were...tempting.
She moved down to Toko’s stomach and started rubbing circles with the loofah. When she dipped below her bellybutton she couldn’t help but notice the older girl squirming.
“Are you okay?”
“Y-yeah, you’re just…” Toko gulped, her face bright red. “Your h-h-hand is...low.”
“Oh….oh!” Embarrassed, Komaru pulled back. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to wash your stomach, I wasn’t gonna go any lower I swear-”
“It’s okay, idiot,” Toko mumbled. “Just keep going.”
Komaru blushed. She certainly couldn’t go any lower in that spot, so she skipped down to Toko’s legs. There, at the top of her thighs, lay the source of so much of Toko’s pain. The dark marks jumped out against her pale skin, the color still deep and vibrant despite the scars having been years old. Syo must have cut quite deep to leave such intensity behind.
Komaru would be lying if she said she didn’t like Syo. She liked her a lot, actually. The girl was fun, outspoken and, to the detriment of Komaru’s health, a total flirt. But she was careless with the body she shared with Toko. Those scars should not have been Toko’s burden to bear.
Wordlessly, she got to work. She lathered from Toko’s hips down to her ankles and then back up again. She skirted around the tally marks when passing over her thighs; she would have had no problem touching them but imagined it might be too much for Toko. She gently gripped the side of the leg she was washing to help keep it still, and her heart pounded at the give of soft flesh under her fingertips. She was aware that she was probably red as a tomato. She was a little thankful, actually, that Toko was keeping her eyes closed.
...at least, she had been, a few minutes ago.
At some point while Komaru was washing her legs, Toko’s eyes had opened. Barely a peek, and glancing off to the side, but still open. She was fixated on the floor tiles with a distant look in her eyes. It almost seemed as if she weren’t there. Despite the faraway gaze, she still seemed to be focused on something. It occurred to Komaru that Toko was staring off at something that Komaru wouldn’t be able to see, no matter how hard she tried.
“Toki, are you here?” Komaru whispered. She got no response. She tried lightly tapping Toko’s knee, wondering if physical stimulation might bring her back easier. Sure enough, with a small jump the writer startled out of her daze. She peeked at Komaru through her eyelashes. Her fingers were tapping the sides of the stool in an unsteady rhythm.
“I-I...uh…”
She looked scared.
“I’ve got you,” Komaru murmured. She reached for Toko’s trembling hands and cradled them in her own. “You’re not alone. You’re safe.”
Toko grimaced. “The tally m-m-marks...y-you think they’re scary, don’t you? You th-think I’m scary.”
“That’s not true-”
“You wouldn’t touch them. You s-stayed away from them.”
Komaru’s heart sank. She had avoided the marks, it was true. She hadn’t wanted to make Toko uncomfortable, but her trepidation had backfired. It occurred to her then - she wasn’t supposed to pretend that they didn’t exist. She wasn’t supposed to avert her eyes. What Toko needed was for Komaru to accept all of her, entirely and without restraint.
Delicately, she splayed her fingers across Toko’s thigh, placing her hand over the scars. She rubbed gently and felt the angry, raised skin greet her.
“I’m not scared of you. I’m not scared of Syo, either. I trust both of you with my life everyday. And these,” she whispered, rubbing her fingers over the tally marks, “I’m not scared of these. They’re just relics of the past. The way you’ve been moving forward, these are already far behind you.”
Toko sniffled and shook her head. “I don’t think I’ll e-ever be able to leave them behind. I c-can’t erase the p-past. And you can’t...you can’t make it go away.”
“I know that. These marks aren’t going away, and we can’t pretend they aren’t there. But they are just a single, teeny-tiny piece of what makes you Toko Fukawa. They do not define you.”
Big tears were welling up in Toko’s eyes. “I-I don’t understand...you know what those m-m-marks are for, how can you just - how can you be so…”
“Because they’re part of you.” Komaru let unbridled affection lace her tone. “And that means…” Her body moved on pure instinct. She leaned forward and pressed her lips against the raised skin. A mark of hate met with a mark of love.
“I accept them, because I accept you.”
I love them, because I love you.
Toko gasped, and Komaru felt a shudder rack the muscle beneath her lips. Forcing down her mounting embarrassment, she pulled her lips back, immediately missing the warmth of Toko’s skin. Her heart was pounding. Her spur of the moment decision had not just crossed the line of platonic friendship; she had pole vaulted over it and landed in very unfamiliar territory indeed. She examined Toko’s face for any trace of discomfort or disgust at what she had done.
She found signs of neither. Toko’s jaw was slack, her mouth open in surprise. She was looking at Komaru with astonishment, but nothing akin to displeasure. There was a small spark in her eyes, but she seemed conflicted. “You really…” Her voice wavered and her lips trembled. “You really m-mean it?”
“I do.”
“You aren’t scared of me?”
“Quite the opposite.”
“...You won’t abandon me?”
“Never.”
And that was all it took. Something inside of Toko seemed to break. A low keening in the back of her throat rose into a sob, and she hunched over. The tears finally spilled from her eyes. She wailed like Komaru had never heard before - the kind of cry that comes from a place that can’t be seen.
“N-nobody has ever...everyone leaves me, everyone...and the ones who don’t...they t-t-treat me like g-garbage, I always thought that I deserved it, I thought they were right, that there was n-no one who would ever...who would ever...treat me the way you do.”
She covered her eyes with her hands and rocked back and forth. Komaru’s heart ached for all that she had gone through. For all of the abuse, neglect, and hatred that had been slung her way since the moment she was born. Still, Komaru knew that these weren’t sobs of despair. They weren’t sobs of hope, either. She could hear it in the unbridled intensity with which she cried. Toko was unraveling in pure catharsis.
Komaru stood up and padded behind Toko, reaching out her arms to hug the girl from behind. She enveloped her completely, pressing her chest against her back and laying her chin on her head. Their nakedness was no longer awkward for her. Rather, in this moment, it allowed her to spread her warmth from the heart.
She didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but eventually Toko’s cries waned into hiccups. Her previously-shuddering form was still, limp as a ragdoll in the younger girl’s arms. Surrendering complete control to her. Komaru was suddenly reminded of when she was little and had been allowed to hold her neighbor’s newborn kitten. A new life, so small and fragile that a careless touch could end everything. In that moment, cradling Toko in her arms, she felt that she held something similarly precious.
Finally, Toko let out a long breath and looked up. Tilting her head backwards, she ended up resting it on Komaru’s breasts. She paused, looking confused and probably trying to parse what the soft sensation was. Realization finally dawned on her and Komaru worried for a moment that she would yell at her. Instead, however, she just blushed and gently shrugged her off.
“Get your milk jugs off of me, you perverted woman.” Despite the words, her tone had no bite to it. On the contrary, she sounded...affectionate. For Toko, anyway. Komaru giggled and pulled away.
“Now that that’s settled, let’s get you rinsed off.”
“You really did so good! I’m so proud of you.”
“Shut up.”
“But you only had one breakdown! And it was, like, a good one! I think a therapist would say that it was progress!”
“Komaru, I swear to God…”
The two girls, now fully clothed, were sitting on the edge of their bed. Komaru had quickly washed herself after taking care of Toko. She was now running a brush through the writer’s wet hair while showering her with praise at how brave she had been. Toko, though she spoke belligerently, looked surprisingly relaxed. Her hands were clasped loosely in her lap and her shoulders looked like they were leaning backwards instead of forward. Her eyes were still glued to the floor, but she didn’t seem to be upset about anything. She just looked...content.
They both knew that brushing Toko’s hair was a fruitless endeavor. It would be back to its unruly self the next day. Komaru had insisted that, even so, she shouldn’t go to bed with it tangled and wet. Truthfully, it was just an excuse to prolong the intimate moment. They had a long day ahead of them but Komaru wasn’t ready to say goodbye to this one yet.
When all of her tangles were undone, Komaru set the brush aside and scooted closer to Toko. She let herself gaze at the older girl’s face, drinking in the rare sight of Toko’s relaxed features. Her eyes in particular were always enticing, especially in this moment where they were no longer clouded by anxiety. Komaru had seen blue-gray eyes before but never a pure gray like Toko’s. They were dusky, with what almost seemed to be a tint of lavender. Right now, limpid and soft, they reminded her of the morning mist after a rainy night. And like the mist, Komaru felt she could get lost in them easily.
“You really are so pretty,” Komaru sighed, unbidden.
Toko shook her head and turned away. “You keep using that word but I-I don’t think you know what it means.”
“Of course I do. Pretty means pretty. That’s you."
“Maybe you’re the one who needs glasses.” Still, Toko was blushing, and her lips were even curved into the smallest smile. She probably still didn’t believe her, but not even Toko could fight how nice it felt to be complimented with such honesty.
Komaru placed her right hand over Toko’s left. Immediately the older girl turned her hand over and opened her palm; an invitation. Silently they wove their fingers together. Komaru’s heart purred as the empty spaces between her fingers were filled with Toko’s warmth.
Komaru curled into her side, resting her head in the crook of her neck. She nuzzled in slightly and Toko giggled. Underneath the bubbly sound, however, was a hint of unease. Soon enough, she felt that Toko was shaking slightly, perhaps overwhelmed by the amount of affection she was receiving. Komaru made to pull back but she felt a rough hand wrap around her shoulder, holding her in place.
“P-p-please stay,” Toko whimpered. “It’s all a bit much, I’m not...familiar with this, but please...please stay.”
“Of course.” Komaru squeezed Toko’s hand in reassurance. She couldn’t help but wonder if that was really all it was. Toko never shook like this when they cuddled in the middle of the night, though perhaps that was because she was usually half-asleep.
To her surprise, Toko answered the unspoken question of her own will. “I ju-just know that you never would have looked my way back in the n-normal world. If we hadn’t been f-forced together like this.”
“I would choose you in any world.”
“It’s easy for you to say that n-now, when I’m literally your only option for companionship,” said Toko. “This has to be purely situational. There’s n-no way someone like you would choose someone like m-me.”
Komaru frowned. She didn’t know how else to get through to her with words. Being so close to Toko for so long, her mind was getting fuzzy. So she decided to do the only thing that made sense to her at that moment. It would take courage, and recklessness, and maybe a bit of stupidity. But she felt it was the only way to show Toko that she was serious. And God, she just really wanted to.
She lifted her head from Toko’s shoulder and untangled their hands. Toko winced at the loss of contact. Her sadness was replaced by surprise, however, when Komaru moved that hand up to her cheek and cupped it gently.
“K-Komaru?”
“I want to kiss you.” She felt breathless. This was probably the most impulsive thing she had ever done, but she wouldn’t take her words back. She didn’t want to even if she could.
“You want to kiss….me? Someone as stupidly pretty as you, really wants to kiss someone as ugly as m-me?”
Ugly. She would banish the word from Toko’s vocabulary if she could. A lifetime of cruelty had robbed her of the chance to see herself as beautiful. Bit by bit, Komaru wanted to return that chance to her.
“I understand the way you see yourself. But in return, I want you to try understanding the way I see you, too.” She ran her thumb across Toko’s lips. They were chapped, the skin uneven and practically worried raw. Komaru could not remember wanting something so badly in her life.
Toko searched her gaze for a long moment before finally taking a deep breath, closing her eyes. When she opened them again the misty morning had transformed into a clear pool. “Then show me...how you see me.”
Komaru shuddered and surged forward. She captured Toko’s lips with her own. Pressing in roughly, she threw her arms around her shoulders and grasped at her ratty uniform. She had meant for their first kiss to be gentle, but she was overflowing with emotion. She felt Toko gasp into the kiss. She was still for a few moments before, with a rush of delight, Komaru felt her kissing back.
Kissing Toko was nothing like the sugary-sweet kisses she had seen in her shoujo manga. There were no fireworks; just fire, starting in her chest and spreading down to her toes. Her mind went blank with nothing but Toko, Toko, Toko. She felt she would burn to ashes if she didn’t stop, the ache so all-consuming.
Komaru started to pull back reluctantly, but her lips were quickly claimed again. Toko was whining. Aching. She had been starved for this kind of touch for so long. Komaru felt slender fingers entangle themselves in her hair and both girls pressed themselves closer, impossibly close, needing to feel every inch be connected. Komaru let her hands relax and trail across Toko’s back, tracing jutting shoulder blades and dancing up and down her spine.
Oh well. If she was going to burn, at least they would be burning together.
She pulled her lips back again, but this time only to duck her head and attach her lips to Toko’s neck. Toko squeaked. Komaru kissed all along her neck, alternating between chaste pecks and languid, open-mouthed licks. Toko’s breathing grew ragged, and soon she was a whimpering mess. Komaru would have wondered if she should pull away and give Toko a chance to collect herself, if not for the insistent hands clutching at her, holding her in place. She was so desperate. So amazing. So ravishing.
Komaru’s stream of consciousness made its way to her mouth. “You’re so beautiful,” she murmured breathlessly against her neck. She planted another kiss just below her ear. “Wonderful.” The side of her neck. “Perfect.” The hollow of her throat. “Divine.” She kissed her way back up until she was at Toko’s lips again, and the enthusiastic pressure she received in return made her heart soar.
When they finally pulled away properly, both girls needed a minute to catch their breath. Toko’s lips were swollen and Komaru felt the counterintuitive urge to kiss them better.
“Are you starting to understand?” She asked softly. “How beautiful you are to me?”
“I’m still not sure I get it,” Toko breathed. Komaru almost felt frustrated before Toko glanced up and her half-lidded eyes screamed needy. “Can you show me again?”
Komaru was more than happy to oblige.
It wasn’t perfect. They knocked teeth. They bumped noses. Toko’s glasses got smudged. It was messy. It was clumsy.
But it was beautiful, and Komaru would be happy to show her that beauty a million times over.