Back when they had been teenagers, in the group together, Suguru had realized one bright, vivid afternoon that she loved Satoru. She still remembers the day, and everything they had been doing, the clothes they were wearing. They had a rare afternoon break, and she and Satoru had gone to a movie, and the sun had been too bright for Satoru when they emerged, and Suguru laid in a cool, dark room with her best friend. She had curled up, facing Satoru as they chatted, and Suguru's heart beat so strongly against her ribs that it felt like they might break as the realization hit her. "Oh," she thought, carefully touching her fingers to Satoru's, who looked at her with a smile like the dawn, "I love her."
In the years since, she had done her best to get over it. Satoru was never going to love her like that, which was fine when they were friends, and then Satoru wasn't even her friend. Any good will and friendliness between them was shattered with Suguru walking out, especially the way she did, carefully and deliberately burning every single bridge she had behind her. She forged her own path, found people who supported her and believed her and even liked her. Found girlfriends, although none of her relationships lasted longer than six months or so. Found out what she liked. Found people who loved her, and who she loved in return.
Which is why, when she sees Satoru that day, all long, lean limbs and midriff on display, it's only the aggravating frustration and latent, unresolved desire from her youth that leaves her mouth dry and her heart beating painfully in her chest. The leggings and crop top look suited her, and Satoru was an objectively gorgeous woman. Suguru was gay; admiring beautiful women was a thing. It didn't mean anything more than that.
Idly, Suguru realized she was going to have to step up her pre-show look, if this was what Satoru was going to be coming in with. Suguru appreciated her comfort before shows, usually wearing comfortable sweats or leggings and loose t-shirts that let her move around easily, her hair usually in a messy bun to style later. But if Satoru was showing up in things that showed off skin like that, model perfect, then Suguru couldn't bring less than her best.
This tour was going to be a nightmare.
When Satoru hands her the papers, Suguru takes them and turns away, rolling her eyes when Satoru keeps looming. Less than two inches between them and of course Satoru acted like she was a giant.
"Fine," she snaps, and sits back to read over the arrangement. She doesn't expect much, since Satoru had been so adamant that the song was boring, acting like it was nothing to her to make a few changes. Despite herself, Suguru still admires Satoru's talent and musical abilities, and the experimental nature of her music even if she wishes Satoru would do something more honest. And this is stunning, in a way that Suguru didn't expect and isn't quite sure what to do with now that it's been presented to her. It's a beautiful song, taken to new heights with Satoru's input.
"I see you're capable of understanding emotions," Suguru says, overly sweet, once she finishes reading the thing through twice. "I didn't think you had it in you, Satoru." Which was perhaps the biggest lie Suguru's said so far; she was one of the people who could see beneath Satoru's exterior and see the emotions in her, and the depth. "I need to hear it with both our voices."
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In the years since, she had done her best to get over it. Satoru was never going to love her like that, which was fine when they were friends, and then Satoru wasn't even her friend. Any good will and friendliness between them was shattered with Suguru walking out, especially the way she did, carefully and deliberately burning every single bridge she had behind her. She forged her own path, found people who supported her and believed her and even liked her. Found girlfriends, although none of her relationships lasted longer than six months or so. Found out what she liked. Found people who loved her, and who she loved in return.
Which is why, when she sees Satoru that day, all long, lean limbs and midriff on display, it's only the aggravating frustration and latent, unresolved desire from her youth that leaves her mouth dry and her heart beating painfully in her chest. The leggings and crop top look suited her, and Satoru was an objectively gorgeous woman. Suguru was gay; admiring beautiful women was a thing. It didn't mean anything more than that.
Idly, Suguru realized she was going to have to step up her pre-show look, if this was what Satoru was going to be coming in with. Suguru appreciated her comfort before shows, usually wearing comfortable sweats or leggings and loose t-shirts that let her move around easily, her hair usually in a messy bun to style later. But if Satoru was showing up in things that showed off skin like that, model perfect, then Suguru couldn't bring less than her best.
This tour was going to be a nightmare.
When Satoru hands her the papers, Suguru takes them and turns away, rolling her eyes when Satoru keeps looming. Less than two inches between them and of course Satoru acted like she was a giant.
"Fine," she snaps, and sits back to read over the arrangement. She doesn't expect much, since Satoru had been so adamant that the song was boring, acting like it was nothing to her to make a few changes. Despite herself, Suguru still admires Satoru's talent and musical abilities, and the experimental nature of her music even if she wishes Satoru would do something more honest. And this is stunning, in a way that Suguru didn't expect and isn't quite sure what to do with now that it's been presented to her. It's a beautiful song, taken to new heights with Satoru's input.
"I see you're capable of understanding emotions," Suguru says, overly sweet, once she finishes reading the thing through twice. "I didn't think you had it in you, Satoru." Which was perhaps the biggest lie Suguru's said so far; she was one of the people who could see beneath Satoru's exterior and see the emotions in her, and the depth. "I need to hear it with both our voices."