Work Text:
the biggest issue kashiwazaki sena was facing at the moment was simple: how in the world was she going to know that mikazuki yozora was going to like her back?
she hadn't intended for the idea to be speculated upon romantically. no, just as friends -- she was sure that the most obvious fact was that the club leader hated her with all of her whole heart. and yet there was some part of her within that wanted to know it wasn't true.
on this one lonely night, sena found herself staring up at the various voyeur photos in grave desperation for kinship of some sort. that, her mind firmly anchored on yozora's past fortune telling schemes, and her tears shed from mischief after -- those sort of thoughts were keeping the girl up when she should've been sleeping, should've been dreaming of revenge instead.
why was she so concerned about yozora knowing her from the inside out? beyond their relationship as club members, to be as friends… sena curled up with a pillow in her arms as she contemplated, thought back to the spars that only she and yozora shared. the thrill of a competition, of being somewhat evenly matched, despite the latter's obvious disadvantages. the idea that yozora was even willing to try at all, despite vehemently despising her so much.
no, sena knew what platonic affection looked like, having seen other kids her age practice it at the playground when she was younger. gifts, handholding, excited discussions, the occasional adventure elsewhere and the breaking of bread, almost communally -- those were the hallmarks of what made a prime school life experience. if her own eyes betrayed her observations of reality, then at least the writing in her games had fortified this fact, so she knew, concretely, what she was missing out in life.
sena brought the pillow to her face, and cared not if the covers were tear-stained. whatever was she able to do? nothing active; anything along those lines might've been read as desperate, and because she'd honestly tried to be genuine with yozora in the past, only to see her efforts shattered upon contact. oh, on this -- if she needed help, she needed it bad.
maybe one day, she considered, she would be able to have lunch with yozora the same way she was able to experience it in games. the wish she made was born of sorrow, infused with as much hope as the girl could muster, as her will faded of all other prospects, determining them to be too much to dream of in the moment.
for now, she just wanted her mind empty, and to adjust to the sensation a hollow fullness in her mouth, sat on the flat of her tongue. the name of the girl she wished to be friends with on her lips, and the tinge of a gentle admiration neglected, never to be uttered earnestly, only to remain as a gasp stuck in her throat.