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vannahfanfics · 2 years

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Beauty and the Deviant

Word Count: 1710

Fluff, Romance, Confessions, Getting Together, Pro Heroes

Summary: Eager to escape the stress of daily life as pro heroes, Denki and Kyoka head to a karaoke bar. Utterly entranced by his beautiful companion, Denki decides to voice the feelings that he's been harboring for a long time.

It’s been a while since the zine came out, but I wrote this for a KamiJiro zine a while back, and I finally have the chance to post it. Enjoy some cute KamiJiro fluff <3

The puddles of rainwater splashed under their feet as Denki and Kyoka dashed down the sidewalk. They had their jackets pulled up over their heads to try and protect them from the steady rain pouring down from the cloudy, gray evening sky. The lights of the streetlamps and passing cars refracted off the raindrops and the slick sheen of water coating the sidewalk. Snatches of the light reflected off their damp hair, kaleidoscoping colors off the strands to paint rainbows into the strands. The soles of Denki’s shoes slid on the water as he came to a stop; he snickered as he pulled open the door of a building and pushed Kyoka inside. He all but tossed some bills onto the counter of the attendant, who just smiled in amusement as she watched the two teenagers shuffle to the back of the building.

“Denki, come on, do we really—?” The annoyance in Kyoka’s voice was tainted with laughter, unable to contain it as Denki eagerly dragged her down a hallway into a small room. It was a simple room with a tatami mat floor, a low-sitting table with four cushions seated around it, and a small plasma-screen television mounted on the wall above a small karaoke machine with two microphones. Denki bit down on his tongue as he scampered up to the microphones with glee. He snatched one up and pointed dramatically at Kyoka.

“Yes, my dear Kyoka!” he grinned. She stood in the threshold of the door, arms crossed and a demure smile playing over her lips. Her hip rested against the doorframe as she jutted it out, but no matter how much she wanted to pretend that she wasn’t interested, the gleam in her eyes betrayed her.

“When I said I wanted to go out to get away from the stress, this is not what I had in mind,” she said with raised eyebrows.

Denki continued sticking out the tip of his tongue, doing a little shimmy while holding the microphone. The cord bounced against his leg with rhythmic slaps, and as he turned around, it wrapped around his leg. He wobbled when it pulled taut, disbalancing him. Kyoka hid her mouth with her hand as she laughed quietly, prompting Denki to smile sheepishly and rub the back of his neck. He kicked his leg until the cord slipped off, then raked his fingers through his hair.

“Come on, Kyoka, you know you love to sing!” he said with an enticing wiggle of the microphone. More than that, though, Denki loved to hear her sing. Ever since their first year of high school when they’d performed at the school festival, he’d been enraptured by her angelic voice. He relished every chance he got to hear her sing, hence his scheme to drag her out to a karaoke bar on their Friday night jubilee.

Again, he wiggled the microphone, eyebrow creeping up his forehead. “You know you want to~”

Kyoka snorted, but the smile spreading across her face betrayed her. She pushed away from the door to saunter over and grab the microphone from him.

“You’re a deviant,” she said.

“Guilty as charged,” he snickered while whirling around to turn on the karaoke machine and television. The screen blazed to life, upbeat music pumping through the speakers as the karaoke machine’s home menu displayed in white letters against a pastel background with colorful music notes bouncing around. Denki picked up the remote to begin scrolling through the options, swinging his hips to the poppy tune. Kyoka waited patiently for him to choose something, swaying her shoulders ever-so-slightly to the beat.

Denki finally selected a song, a well-known anime anthem, and dropped the remote as the instrumental intro started playing. He danced in place next to Kyoka, purposefully bumping shoulders with her and making her laugh and shove back.

“Cut it out! You’re gonna throw me off my groove!” she cried, pushing into the side of his head. Denki ducked down with a laugh, but his teasing ended up backfiring as he missed the beginning of the song. Kyoka grinned triumphantly at him as she sang into the microphone, while he stumbled up and shakily jumped in, voice cracking a little. Smooth, he thought with an inward groan. Way to impress the girl, idiot!

Obviously, Denki and Kyoka were close. They’d grown closer across the course of high school, and still hung out regularly now that they were full-fledged heroes. Denki was grateful for her friendship, but he’d be remiss to say that he didn’t want to take things to another level. He was so in love with Kyoka it was ridiculous; he had been for years. However, Kyoka was just so beautiful, so sophisticated, so confident that Denki quailed every time he thought of confessing to her.

Even now, as she sang beautifully into the microphone while stepping to the beat, tossing her head so her raven hair swished around her shoulders, head tossed back and eyes closed in revelry—God, she was so beautiful that his heart ached. He watched her out of the corners of his eyes as he sang into the microphone. Her cheeks began to shine opaline pink with exertion and a thin layer of sweat. She opened her eyes to peer at him, dark eyes glinting like onyxes under the light of the fluorescents. Every day Denki thought that he couldn’t fall in love with her more than he already was, and yet moments like these proved him wrong each and every time.

“Ah, you’re right,” Kyoka exhaled when the song ended, playing with the ends of her purple-black hair and smiling at Denki. “I do love to sing.” She gazed at the screen with a content smile, then picked up the remote to choose the next song. Denki didn’t watch the scrolling song titles on the bright screen, but rather the simple motion of her pushing the buttons and how magical even that seemed to him.

“Kyoka?” he piped up suddenly. She hummed in response, her eyes flicking to him before back to the screen. Denki fidgeted in place, hands wringing into the still-damp fabric of his graphic tee.

At his nervous silence, she looked at him this time, head slightly tilted and eyes wide in curiosity.

“What is it, Denki?” she asked, setting down the remote and microphone and turning to him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay,” he nodded, tongue flicking out to wet his lips. He edged closer to her, continuing to wring wrinkles into the hem of his shirt. She stared at him quizzically, and the expression on her face almost made his courage fail—almost.

“Kyoka… I love to hear you sing.”

She blinked, seemingly confused by the sudden proclamation. As her lips parted to speak, he hurriedly waved a hand and spluttered, “W-wait, there’s more! It’s not just that, I… I love the way you smile because it lights up the whole room. I love when you laugh and the way you cover your mouth when you do it and the way your eyes scrunch up a little.” A blush crept up from Kyoka’s neck, dying her face a bright shade of carnation. “I love the way you tuck your hair behind your ears when you’re nervous,” he added with a smile as she was doing just that, making her freeze and stare at him with owlish eyes.

He stepped forward, taking her arms by the wrists so he could pull her hands down and gently place them in his own. Her fingers twitched against his skin, nervous and trembling.

“I love everything about you, Kyoka. I have for a long time.” He dropped his head a little, bangs flopping into his eyes to hide the shake in his golden irises.

Kyoka swallowed thickly, licking her lips and running her thumbs over the skin of Denki’s palm. After a moment of silence, she tilted her head with a shy smile.

“I love you too, Denki.”

“Oh, man, that’s a relief,” he couldn’t help but say, sagging a little as all the tightly-wound muscles in his body relaxed at once. Kyoka giggled, and Denki gave her a bashful smile. “I was hoping you’d say that, otherwise I would have made a big fool of myself, huh?”

“Well, it’s not much different than what you do on a daily basis.”

“Ouch, that’s harsh,” he said with a pout.

Kyoka took advantage of him poking out his lips, diving forward to press a light, chaste kiss to his mouth. It was Denki’s turn to wear the owlish eyes, blowing wide like golden moons.

“I guess it’s lucky for you that I think big fools are cute,” Kyoka said cheekily, poking out her tongue a little.

Denki had to laugh despite her barb; she always had a way of making those little teases so endearing. While keeping eye contact with her, he lifted up her hands to press featherlight kisses across her knuckles. Kyoka’s face blazed bright red, turning darker with each flutter of his lips over her skin. Lucky for Denki, he had a knack for flustering her as payback for her cheeky jibes.

“All right, all right,” Kyoka said, pulling back her hands and holding them close to her chest and swaying back-and-forth shyly. “A girl can only take so much…”

“Whatsa matter? I can’t dote on my new girlfriend?” Denki asked, and Kyoka’s face turned a dark maroonish color. She turned away with a nervous groan when he skipped up to her and pressed a kiss into her temple. “All right, all right, I’m done for now,” he hummed and picked up the microphones again. “Now let’s hear some more of that angelic voice, yeah?” he said, wiggling them at her with raised eyebrows.

“You’re a deviant!” she said again, but snatched up the microphone anyway.

“Guilty as charged~” he said with a little prance, only to tangle himself up in the cord again. He smiled bashfully as Kyoka laughed, covering up her mouth again in that cute little gesture he adored. He wiggled out of the cord and leaned in to press another kiss to her cheek, loving the heat of her blush melting over his lips. Then they sang the night away, just two young twenty-somethings escaping the stress and head-over-heels in love.

#kamijiro #kamijirou #kamiji #kaminari x jiro #jiro x kaminari #jirou x kaminari #kaminari x jirou #denki kaminari #kaminari denki #jirou kyoka #jiro kyoka #jirou kiyouka #kyouka jirou #jiro kyouka #kyouka jiro #my hero academia #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha

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vannahfanfics · 2 years

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Music is Love in Search of a Word

Word Count: 5080

Fluff, Romance, Soulmates, Café AU

Summary: Momo Yaoyorozu has finally accomplished her goal of opening her own café. And the location she's chosen isn't just good for business—it's also the ticket to finding her soulmate!

Hello, everyone! Here is my story for the MomoJiro Bang! Please check out the lovely art by my partner @bnha-ramblings, and also a big thanks to my beta @leland-chapman-the-bounty-hunter! Enjoy!

The scent of brewing chamomile danced on the air, filling Momo’s nose with a honey-sweet smell. It bubbled in the teapot on the rustic stove, which sat between two counters laden with espresso machines, coffee pots, jugs of fruit concentrate chilling in bowls of ice, and countless bags of tea leaves. A foot and a half in front of the cabinets and counters stood a display case, which housed scrumptious-looking muffins, danishes, brownies and blondies, donuts, and various other pastries. A small counter sat beside it with an old-fashioned cash register and a tiny potted money tree. Momo flitted around the various round, tableclothed tables to slightly rearrange the flowers sitting in the colorful glass vases or barely shift the teacups and saucers. After giving the room one last scrutinizing sweep, she walked up to the front glass door to flip the sign hanging in it to “OPEN.”

The simple act made Momo swell with pride. I’ve done it! I’ve successfully opened my own tea shop and café! She thought triumphantly. Four years of slaving over a business degree, half a year of financial bargaining, and another three months of construction, interior decorating, and asset obtaining had finally led to this moment. She couldn’t help peering out of the door at the sidewalk. Her fingers twiddled with anticipation as she watched the passersby. Would any of them notice her new tea shop? Would any of them be intrigued and stop in? Who would be her first customer?

After a few seconds of heart-pounding suspense, Momo realized that her potential customers may be put off by a sweaty, wide-eyed woman standing at the door breathing heavily onto the glass. She rubbed away the condensation with the hem of her apron before hurrying back to the counter. She needed to find something to occupy her time or she would go crazy from the expectation! However, she had been at the store for three hours preparing, so it was terribly hard to find anything to do now. She just stared hopelessly at the teapot on the stove, counting the seconds until it began to whistle with the collecting steam.

When she finally pulled the chamomile tea off the stove, she was at a complete loss of what to do.

Music. Music would help calm my nerves, she decided. She walked across the room to the old-fashioned radio sitting on a shelf on the wall. All of the outfittings in Momo’s tea shop had a rustic charm to contribute to the English Victorian vibe that she was going for—plus, she just loved the character of antiques! She fiddled with the dial, surfing through the static for a channel that would suit the atmosphere of her tea shop. She finally landed on a classical music channel, and sweet tones of piano keys began to mingle in the air with the fresh scent of the chamomile.

It seemed that Momo had caught the tail end of a piece; by the time she walked back to her counter to pour herself a cup of chamomile, the radio host's voice has replaced the calming piano music.

“Hello, listeners. I hope we are having a pleasant morning,” the host’s voice was soft and rich like the smoothest coffee; it immediately lulled Momo into a sleepy sense of contentment, prompting her to lean back against the counter and sip at her hot tea with a smile. “The next song comes to us from the most recent classical sensation, contemporary pianist Hitoshi Shinso. In a recent interview, he explained how his soulmate song inspired all the work on his debut album. He wanted to celebrate the love for his soulmate, and each song in the album chronicles their journey together…”

The radio host’s comments faded into the background as Momo drifted further into a placated state of daydreaming. She’d always adored the concept of the soulmate song. It was so inherently romantic! A song you were born knowing. A song that you only shared with one other person in the whole world. A unique tune that you could use to communicate with someone on such an intimate, personal level. Just thinking about it made butterflies take flight in Momo’s stomach and pleasurable tingles begin to shoot up and down her nerves.

Momo especially loved her soulmate song. She supposed everyone thought their soulmate song was extra-special, but Momo couldn’t help but just be enamored by hers. It was a harmonious blend of classical notes and jazzy tunes that came together to make a soothing yet stimulating melody. When Momo closed her eyes and let it flow forth to fill her mind, body, and soul with its mellifluence, she couldn’t help but imagine the kind of person her soulmate must be. Who did those hints of serious, deep tones amongst her sweet, high notes represent? How did it align with their personality? Wondering always filled Momo with a sense of excitement about the day that she would finally discover the truth.

Just as Momo was beginning to lose herself in her soulmate song, she was jolted back to reality by the loud chime of the bell attached to the top of her door.

“O-oh! Welcome,” she cried. As she jumped away from the counter, she nearly dropped the mug of chamomile she was still holding in her hands. She squeaked as the liquid sloshed over the rim, spilling over her hands and splashing down on the floor.

“Pl-please excuse me!” she flushed in embarrassment, scrambling around behind the counter in search of a dishrag. When she found one, she hastily wiped off the mug and set it down, and then rushed up to the cash register while still wiping the tea from her hands. “Sorry about that! How can I help yo—Oh! Ochako!”

“Hi, Momo!” her friend chirped pleasantly. “I rushed over here as soon as I saw that you were open! Am I your first customer?”

“Yes, actually, you are!” Momo laughed. Ochako squealed and did a little happy dance, which made Momo laugh more.

“It looks so cute!” Ochako gushed, stepping to the side to hungrily eye the many sweets sitting in the display counter. “And everything looks so delicious! It’s so amazing! You’ve been working on this for so long. It’s hard to believe that the day has finally come.”

“I know!” Momo said, smiling while resting her cheek into her hand. “I almost expect to wake up in my bed, it all having been one long dream…”

“Well, this is no dream, sister!” Ochako said and even lightly pinched Momo’s upper arm. She sprang away with a squeal, swatting at Ochako’s hand. She tried to look stern, but the laugh bubbling from her lips ruined it. Ochako just playfully wiggled her eyebrows before leaning down to hungrily inspect the sweet wares Momo had arranged in the display. “Honestly, it feels like I’m the one dreaming, now! All of these treats look so amazing… It’s like Heaven…”

“You can have whichever one you like. My treat,” Momo offered.

“No way!” Ochako objected, shooting straight up to poutily frown at her. “I’m your first customer, and that means I’m gonna pay! No ifs, ands, or buts about it… buuuuuuut I won’t refuse a little something extra.” Her firm tone faded into a dreamy drawl as her eyes drifted back to the case, particularly the ichigo daifuku tantalizing her from the top shelf. Momo couldn’t help but laugh; of course Ochako’s weakness to mochi was coming into play, and she had always been partial to the spring-exclusive treat.

“I’ll throw in some of the ichigo daifuku in for free,” she assured Ochako, who pumped her first with a quiet but triumphant “yes!”

While Ochako struggled to decide which of the treats she wanted to purchase, Momo opened the back of the case to pull out the platter of mochi treats. She picked one up and carefully wrapped it in cute pink wax paper, then set it into a white pastry box. The lid was emblazoned with her shop name, cursive writing in shiny, eye-catching gold. Ochako cooed delightedly at it when she caught sight of it.

“Man, Momo, you sure thought of everything,” she praised. “Your shop is going to take off in no time!”

“I sure hope so,” Momo sighed in response.

She had devoted much time and energy into her preparations, exploring every avenue and having contingencies for her contingencies, but the threat of failure always loomed like an anvil over her head. What if her shop wasn’t a hit? She’d been open for fifteen minutes now, and her best friend was the only one who’d stopped in. Was her business doomed to fail? Oh, dear, what was she going to do—

“Snap out of it!” Ochako barked and snapped her fingers in front of Momo’s face. Momo’s eyelashes fluttered as she struggled to reign her dizzied mind back in. When she looked blearily at her best friend, she had her arms crossed and her mouth pulled into a frown.

“You’ve been open for fifteen minutes and you’re already doubting yourself, aren’t you?”

“No…” Momo mumbled. It definitely didn’t sound convincing, and she averted her gaze as heat rushed to her cheeks. Ochako heaved a sigh, then reached out to pluck half of the ichigo daifuku from the box.

“Listen, Momo, you’ll take off in no time,” she said, then took a bite of the sweet, chewy mochi. “I mean—oh my God, Momo, this is so good!”

Whatever she was going to say was interrupted by her blissful cry, but honestly, Momo would much rather hear that than whatever lecture she was about to get. Her eyes lit up in delight as Ochako began to chomp away at the mochi, stuffing the bits into her cheeks instead of swallowing so she could savor every little bit.

“Really? You think it’s good?”

“It’s amazing! It’s the best I’ve ever had! I really have died and gone to Heaven…”

Momo gave Ochako another bit of the mochi treat on the house, while Ochako bought some strawberry shortcake to try later. Seeing as no one else was in the shop, Momo escorted her to the door, opening it for her as they continued to chat about Momo’s aspirations. She was right in the middle of bidding Ochako farewell when the words jammed in her throat.

“What? What is it?” Ochako asked around the strawberry currently clamped between her teeth. Momo ignored her, looking around wildly.

Where is it? Where is it coming from? She thought, eyes wide as she looked around in a frenzy. Ochako continued to bleat “What, what?” until Momo frantically wheezed, “My soulmate song.”

It floated on the warm spring air, light and airy like bubbles. It was unmistakable. It resonated in Momo’s soul. That cappuccino blend of jazz and sweet notes that she had known since before she could recognize what music even was. She could recognize it even though it was being played on an acoustic guitar, the deep notes thrumming in the air. Yet the street was empty aside from a few curious onlookers—no street performers, no radios, not even someone listening to a video on their phone. The song seemed to bounce off the brick walls of the buildings, the sound waves colliding in a confusing but beautiful mass of symphony. Momo could only spin in circles on the sidewalk while she tried fruitlessly to pin down the direction that the song was coming from.

When it stopped, Momo’s heart shattered.

“Momo! Momo, hey!” Ochako cried as tears flooded Momo’s eyes. She really wasn’t sure why.

Her soul was weeping at the failed opportunity, wailing deep in her chest. It made everything go tight, so much so that she had to squat down and focus on catching her breath. Ochako soothingly rubbed her back, and though sympathetic words left her friend’s lips, she couldn’t hear them for the white noise rushing in her ears.

There was no mistake. That was definitely her soulmate song. But where could it had come from? She looked up and down the street, and though the landscape was blurred slightly by her tears, there was nothing, no clues to the identity of her soulmate or the source of the music.

“I heard it… I heard it, Ochako…” she said hoarsely. It felt like she’d spent the last ten minutes screaming, the tissue of her throat raw and scratchy and sore. She looked tearily up at her, then whispered, “What if I never hear it again? What if I missed my chance?”

Momo didn’t like to be overly emotional, and she never would have expected that she would have reacted so strongly to this situation. But it literally felt like her heart had been torn out of her chest, leaving a raw, bleeding wound. She groaned, pawing over her chest while half-expecting to really find a bleeding gash. The strums of the guitar strings still rang hollowly in her ears. Would the ghost of this moment be the only taste of her soulmate that she would ever get? The prospect agonized her, pulling a whine from her trembling lips.

“Hey, Momo, snap out of it! It’s just first encounter syndrome.”

Ochako’s voice finally tore Momo out of her emotional turmoil. As she blinked, sending the tears spilling down her ruddy cheeks, she felt like the anxiety swirling inside of her rushed out through her feet. Ochako patted her cheek tenderly as she stood over her, eyebrows knitted in concern.

“First… encounter syndrome?” Momo rasped. Drink, I need a drink…

“Yeah. Sometimes, when people first encounter or get hints of their soulmate, they have an overwhelming emotional reaction.”

Sensing her thoughts, Ochako helped her to her feet, keeping a gentle hand on her elbow as she guided her inside. Though Momo felt much better, her legs were no better than jelly, making her knees knock together as she fumbled to the nearest table. She practically collapsed in the chair, while Ochako rushed behind the counter to get her a glass of water. Momo’s mouth was like a desert now, and so she could only mouth “thank you” before greedily downing the water. She took it in big gulps, not caring about the water that surged out the corners of her lips and dripped down her chin onto her apron.

“Guh…” she breathed when she finally pulled the empty glass from her lips.

“Better?” Ochako smiled weakly as she sat down beside her. Momo nodded, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She was dreadfully exhausted, however, and knowing she had to man the shop for the rest of the day made it even worse. “I’ve heard it’s pretty intense. Apparently, Sero had it the first time he met Mina… He broke down bawling right then and there. Couldn’t even say ‘hello’ to her for five whole minutes.”

“I can imagine,” Momo said wearily, sinking into the chair. She was glad she invested in nice cushioning because it sure felt good embracing her shaky body right now.

She spent a minute or so running her sweaty palms up and down the skirt of her dress until the last of the tremors ceased. Ochako sat close to her, comfortingly patting her on the shoulder and distracting her with small talk.

When she finally felt like a person again, Momo cleared her throat and uttered, “So… Do you think I’ll find them? My soulmate?”

“Of course!” Ochako said with an encouraging nod. She gestured to the window with a big smile. “They’re out there! Just waiting for you!” She leaned forward to pat her firmly on the shoulder. “Just wait. You’ll hear your song again, and next time, you’ll find them. You’ll see!”

“Yeah,” Momo hummed in agreement. She sank back into the chair with another soft sigh. “Yeah,” she echoed. I just have to wait. I’ll find them next time!

“Kill me. End me. Snuff out my miserable existence,” Momo groaned, punctuating each word with a bang of her forehead against the counter.

There wasn’t anyone in the café since it was just after closing hours, so her only consolation was the echo of her own head thwack-thwack-thwacking against the wood. Two weeks! It had been two whole weeks! Two weeks of hearing her soulmate song every single day without catching so much as a glimpse of the person playing it. It was driving her insane!

With another long, drawn-out groan, Momo lifted her head to look up at the clock on the wall. The hour hand was inching toward six. She’d better finish cleaning up so she could head on home before it got too dark. Only to lie awake in my bed agonizing over the fact that my soulmate is just out of reach, she thought, hanging her head with yet another groan. She’d rather lament in bed than stand behind the counter of her shop, though, so she forced herself to wipe the crumbs off the counter and sweep them up. She trudged out the door, and just as she was twisting the key into the lock…

she heard it.

“Oh! Oh! Where? Oh!” she sputtered while turning frantically in a circle. Where was it coming from? She had to find it! She couldn’t go another night agonizing over the not knowing anymore! But it seemed like the guitar notes were dancing all around her, mocking her with their perfect symphonic beauty.

“Oh, please, please!” she cried desperately. Tears sprang to her eyes at the crushing realization that she may once again let her soulmate slip through her fingers.

“Please…” Her voice cracked as the notes began to fade, and she slowly sank down into a crouch. She hugged her knees with a miserable sniff. Again…?

No! she asserted, jumping back to her feet and firmly gripping the folds of her dress. I won’t miss my chance this time! She hiked up her skirt and stomped down the sidewalk. She didn’t think about what direction she was going in; she just set off in whatever direction seemed natural. A sixth sense, maybe, an invisible string tugging her along…

And it worked, too, because the music was getting louder.

Oh! Oh, I know this! This is where all the nice restaurants are! Momo realized as the cute little small business district transformed into a streetlamp-lit, hedge-lined swanky locale where men and women in business casual strutted about on nice evening dates or attended business meetings. Her soulmate must be some sort of performer! No wonder she heard them play every night! They must be hired to sing outside of some restaurant to try and entice all the fine people outside to come in and eat. Momo rushed past them all, the heels of her sandals frantically click-click-clicking against the concrete as she followed the sweet notes of the guitar.

Closer, she had to be getting closer! She could feel the notes strumming in her bones, matching the pound of her heartbeat against her ribcage. She could feel them with every pump of blood through her body, soaking into her cells and making her feel alive. It felt like the wind itself was spiriting her along; it swept along her feet and billowed her dress, making her feel like she was running on the music itself.

It was approaching the end of the song. Her heart rate jumped, pulsing in her arteries with each frantic pound of her heart. Faster, faster, she had to move faster! She couldn’t let this opportunity slip away. She couldn’t get this close only to fail! She cried out as she stumbled, slipping out of one of her sandals, and she paused to look back at it sitting upside-down on the sidewalk. But there was no time, no time—so she just left it, hobbling awkwardly on the higher sole in her desperate attempt to reach her soulmate before the last chord.

Momo came careening around the corner. Breathless, panting, hair a bit askew, she toddled into the streetlamp on the corner and gripped it tight. She couldn’t go on; her heart felt like it was going to explode in his chest, her lungs were strained to collapsing, and she had a scratch on the bottom of her foot from a raised chip in the concrete. But that was okay.

Because sitting on the stoop of a fancy sushi bar with her legs crossed and her guitar resting on her lap strumming the last chord of the song was her soulmate.

She was ethereal. The fading sunlight blended with the bright light of the streetlamp, and the mix fell into her deep purple strands of hair to make it shine like threads of woven obsidian. When her black eyes flickered up to meet Momo’s, they gleamed like onyx chips in the lowlight. Momo’s heart did a flip in her chest as their gazes locked. Ethereal was the only word she could think of, and it played like a scratched record in her head.

“H-hi,” Momo breathed. She was glad she was clutching the light pole because she would have fallen right over otherwise.

“Hi,” the young woman answered with a bashful smile. She gave Momo a cursory once-over, a quick up-and-down flick of her eyes that nonetheless had Momo’s heart back-flipping in her chest.

“You’re not from around here,” the guitarist remarked, shyness morphing into amused confidence.

“N-No,” Momo confirmed with a shake of her head. Still clutching the light pole like it was her only link to reality, she took a moment to make sure that her thoughts were in order before uttering, “I own a café not far from here.”

“I see.”

The young woman laid her guitar flat on her lap and rested her hands atop its sleek black surface. She made no move to rise or put it in her case, and once more, Momo found her heart fluttering. This girl was giving Momo her full attention! Oh, how nice it was to be noticed. The small act alone nearly made Momo blurt out why she was really there, but she managed to rein in her tongue before it could go flapping. Not everyone subscribed to soulmate culture, and so one had to be tactful when approaching their soulmates.

“So, you play for this restaurant?” Momo asked.

Small talk was good. It was a skill she had honed well in the short time of owning her business. Despite her nervousness, Momo didn’t think it would fail her now. However, she had the wherewithal to realize that her posture was still a little strange, gripping desperately to the streetlamp. Her legs still felt like jelly, but she decided to take the risk; slowly, she straightened up, praying her wiggly legs wouldn’t collapse under her. Somehow, she managed to stay standing.

“That’s right. I play for a few hours each night. The waiting times here get really long, so I’m here to keep them from getting too bored out here,” the girl chuckled with a wave at the sidewalk. As it was early evening, the lines were just beginning to form; no doubt, this sidewalk would soon be swarming with people waiting on their reservations. “I usually break about this time, between the lunch and dinner rush.”

Break… That means if I had waited around a little while, I probably would have found her the first day. Momo wanted to slap herself. Two weeks of agonizing over someone who was far closer than she had ever realized! It was enough to make her want to collapse against the lamppost again. She elected to just stretch her arm out and brace herself against it, make herself seem far more nonchalant than she felt.

“I’m Kyoka Jiro, by the way.”

Kyoka Jiro. Momo discreetly mouthed it, and it felt as sugary on her tongue as she dreamed it would. Perfect, like her name belonged in her mouth.

“Momo Yaoyorozu,” she responded politely.

A pair of businessmen crossed between them, and though Momo knew Kyoka probably wouldn’t disappear in the half a second she couldn’t see her, she still panicked a little. When Kyoka came back into view, still sitting on the sidewalk with a quaint smile, Momo fidgeted nervously. She couldn’t drag this out, else it would become awkward! But she couldn’t jump right in, either. Oh, she wished she had taken Mina up on those lessons in flirting when she’d had the chance…

“I-I can hear you play. From my shop,” Momo piped up before the silence could grow too long.

“Yeah?” Kyoka quirked a brow. Her smile widened, so Momo relaxed a little. It’s going well so far.

“Yeah!” she nodded. She hesitated for a bit, then decided to take another leap of faith.

Timidly, she peeled herself away from the streetlamp to walk over to Kyoka. The musician watched her with those sparkling onyx eyes, but for the life of her, Momo couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Momo sat down on the sidewalk next to her, a respectable distance away but still close enough to maintain a conversation. After making sure her dress wasn’t rumpled up and showing off far too much, she looked at Kyoka with a bashful smile.

“Yes, and I found it quite lovely. That’s why… I decided to venture over here after closing up shop tonight… to see if I could find the source.”

“Really?” Kyoka seemed excited about it. She quickly looked right and left, then leaned in close to Momo. She seemed oblivious to the blush crawling up Momo’s neck, her eyes gleaming as she whispered, “Want to hear a secret?”

“O-oh? Okay, sure…” Momo said, her tongue flicking out to wet her lips. She hadn’t expected the conversation to veer this way, but with no hint as to where it was headed, she couldn’t figure out whether or not she should be nervous or not.

“That song I was just playing was my soulmate song.”

“Y-you don’t say?” Momo was trying to seem as unperturbed as possible, but heavens, her voice was shaking and her body was quivering. Kyoka was too in her own world to notice, apparently; she closed her eyes and hugged her guitar close.

“Yep. I play it every day. Of all the music in the world, I think it’s the most beautiful song ever.” She cracked her eye open to peer at Momo out of her peripheral vision, her cheeks growing a little pink. “And… it’s a little embarrassing, but… Sometimes I feel like if I play it, one day, my soulmate will hear it, and they’ll come to find me.”

“Y-yeah?” Momo couldn’t help the excitement that bled into her tone. “So you want to find your soulmate?”

“Absolutely,” Kyoka nodded vigorously. She then looked lovingly down at her guitar; her hand smoothed across its sleek surface in a soft caress. “My soulmate song is why I fell in love with music in the first place. In a way… I have my soulmate to thank for how wonderful my life is.” She suddenly barked out a laugh, and she looked at Momo with an embarrassed grin. “Ugh, why am I telling you all this? I am totally never this gushy and romantic. Ugh, how mortifying…”

“No, it doesn’t bother me at all,” Momo interjected as Kyoka went to scoot away, probably concerned she was bothering Momo at this point. Kyoka’s head snapped up to look at her with wide eyes. Momo dropped her gaze, fiddling with the hem of her dress. She’d obsessed over this moment for days now, practicing exactly what she would say, and yet now none of those words seemed right. She decided to just go for it, say whatever seemed to come to mind—that sixth sense again.

“I don’t think anyone should be embarrassed about their soulmate. After all, it’s just so grand… The idea of someone out there being made for you, and the fact that you two share a unique bond. You can’t help but get excited.”

Kyoka seemed to relax at that. She hummed thoughtfully, looking down at her guitar again. While she was preoccupied, Momo took a moment to drink her in. She really was beautiful. Looking at her made Momo feel completely at peace—like the way she felt when she was at the shop in the early morning preparing all the pastries or when she was at home after a long day at work, unwinding with a book and a cup of tea. Looking at her made it feel like something in Momo’s world had finally clicked into place.

Undeniably, unequivocally, they were meant to be.

“By the way… I think it’s the most beautiful song in the world, too,” Momo whispered suddenly. Kyoka looked up at her then, her eyebrows cinched in confusion. Slowly, her perplexion morphed into shocked understanding. Momo reached out to place her hand over Kyoka’s. Her fingers twitched but didn’t recoil at Momo’s touch. “Our soulmate song.”

“Y-yeah?” Kyoka managed to choke out.

It was a wonder with how wide she was grinning right now. It made her obsidian eyes scrunch up into little crescent moons, and little tears beaded up like diamonds at their corners. When Kyoka tilted her head slightly, they slipped over the rims of her eyes to spill in thin rivers down her flushed cheeks. She smiled adoringly at Momo for a long time, just basking in the glow of the moment, before her eyes slowly dropped down to Momo’s lips.

Kyoka breathed in quietly, and then whispered, “Can I… Can I kiss you?”

Momo flushed, but nodded in consent. Kyoka shifted, adjusting the guitar on her lap so it wouldn’t get in the way. Slowly, she leaned close. Her gaze drifted back up to Momo’s eyes. They held the heady stare until Kyoka’s lips just barely brushed over Momo’s, and then Momo couldn’t help but let her eyelids fall shut. She wanted to shut everything out, to just focus on the heavenly feeling of Kyoka’s lips gently molding against hers. And oh, did it feel divine. Kyoka’s lips slotted perfectly against hers, soft and sweet and faintly tasting of elderberry. It felt so good that she found herself chasing Kyoka when she pulled back, and the girl just leaned her forehead against hers with a little giggle.

“Wanna stay with me a while?” Kyoka offered.

“There isn’t anywhere else in the world I would rather be,” Momo said back. Because finally, she’d found her place in the world—right there next to Kyoka.