Chapter Text
Maru is by no means an expert on love. Her parents have always been rather reserved with physical displays of affection, so her only reference is what she’s read in books. Butterflies in your stomach, an accidental brushing of hands, the soft touch of lips against another’s - these are all things she’s never experienced before. By all rights she shouldn’t be able to recognize that she’s falling in love.
The thing is, though: while Maru may not know much about love, she does have plenty of experience falling. She’s fallen off of swings and jungle gyms, slipped on wet rocks by the river, and tripped over her own feet more times than she can count. The feel of it, that strange weightlessness of being suspended in the air for a split second without anything to tether you to the earth, is intimately familiar to her - as is the landing impact.
She’s heard it often enough: it’s not the fall that kills you, but the sudden stop at the end. It’s this part that terrifies her. Right now she’s enjoying the sensation of falling, of flying, but she knows it has to end sometime. Eventually, she’ll crash into the ground, and have to feel all the pain that comes with it.
If Maru had her way, she’d make sure she’d never touch down. Keep falling forever. Fall, flow, melt. Dissolve before she ever hits the ground. This is why she lied to Yoshiko last night. Well, she didn’t lie, exactly; she only omitted certain truths. It’s not a problem. If Yoshiko minded, she wouldn’t have looked so panicked when Maru woke her up, and she certainly wouldn’t have gone along with her stupid excuse.
It’s better this way. Like this, Yoshiko can get through this phase of hers without feeling too embarrassed, and Maru won’t have to get hurt. If she did admit her feelings to Yoshiko - even if she reciprocated, it could only ever end in disaster. A fall is a fall, and the landing is going to hurt no matter how soft it is.
Suddenly, Maru is torn from her thoughts by Mari slinging an arm around her shoulder. Maru had seen her changing seats every now and then, but she hadn’t even noticed that she’d sat down next to her.
“Maru-chan!” Mari says, loud as ever. At least she has the grace to lean away from Maru’s ear as she does. “How did you sleep?”
Maru has to fight not to frown. It’s an oddly specific question to ask… Does Mari know what happened between her and Yoshiko last night? She almost has to.
Then again, maybe she’s reading too much into this. Mari could have noticed that she was reading under the sheets of her futon long after Dia had told everybody to go to sleep, or maybe she genuinely wants to know. She doesn’t have any reason to be suspicious. “The futon was very comfortable, zura. I slept well.” Even though it wasn’t very long. “How did you sleep, Mari-chan?”
“Fine, fine,” Mari says, with an air of casualness that is clearly forced, “The futons here aren’t as comfortable as my bed at home, but a change of pace is still appreciated.” She turns to Maru with wide eyes full of faked innocence. “Though, something did happen that made it difficult to sleep.”
Maru is suddenly acutely aware that she’s cornered. She’s sitting in the window seat, with Mari blocking the way to the rest of the bus. She can’t escape. “What was that, zura?”
Mari’s lips curl into what can only be called a leer. Suddenly, Maru starts to fear for her life. “I woke up to Yoshiko-chan making some very interesting noises. At first I thought it was nothing, but then I looked up and I saw you next to Yoshiko-chan’s futon.”
“Oh?” Maru squeaks, pressing herself against the wall of the bus as closely as she can.
“Mhm. I thought that was curious, because it sounded like Yoshiko-chan was moaning, and you two were awfully close.” She leans in, looming above Maru. This is the first time she’s really noticed how scary Mari really is. “Maru-chan, were you can Yoshiko-chan ki-”
“Zura!” Maru shouts. She places her hands against Mari’s shoulders and pushes her away with a mighty heave. Mari topples backwards and off her seat, laughing all the while.
