Chapter 230: Ch.48 – Beautiful Christmas Day (6/8)

 

It was cold, a tad windy, but pleasant as we stood beside one another. Her cheeks were red, likely from the cold, I wanted to believe.

“Here.”

I said, tenderly, holding out my present.

“H-Here.”

We mimicked each other as we exchanged gifts. As we opened our presents, the crinkle of our packages drowned out the noise from inside. Yuko-chan got hers open first and was delighted. Her voice peaked.

“Ohh… ohh… Madoka.”

Yuko-chan even dropped the honorific, and it took me back a little. In her hand was an artistic tablet. It was the kind an artist like her could bring anywhere without hooking it up to a computer.

Her lips pushed out, and her eyes lowered as she gazed at her present.

“I… I want…”

Shyly, she looked away.

“Madoka… ah…”

"Oh, do you not like it? I got it in an outstanding sale. Otherwise, I wouldn't have had the yen."

I teased when, suddenly, she wrapped her arms around me. Her body was hot, like a fire burst from her soul, causing me to warm up instantly.

“T-This is… what I’ve always wanted.”

Surprised, I turned to her, still holding my half-opened present.

“Yuko-chan?”

“I… I’ve always wanted to do things like this…. In… in… ah…”

Her voice peaked as she tried to get it out.

“You mean… in the past, right?”

She nodded.

“I’m sorry… it’s just… I’m sorry.”

She let go of me and put her tablet to her face, hiding her lips.

“It’s just… I never dreamed that we’d… ah… get so close after what… happened…”

I wasn't sure what she was referring to, but I took it as a chance to… maybe learn more about what happened between us. Yuko-chan has mentioned things here and there, but the gap in my memory still only gave me pieces of the shorter version of Yuko-chan.

“Yuko-chan… what happened?”

She sighed…

“Ah…”

Looking away, Yuko-chan finally confessed.

“Madoka-chan…. Ah…”

She held her present close as if she would lose it forever. I did the same with my gift. With my other hand, I reached out and tugged on her dress.

“Yuko-chan… I trust you. Don’t… be afraid to tell me things, okay?”

Finally, she looked at me.

“We… I… I did something and we had a fight.”

Yuko-chan let it out. Slowly, she looked out to the city, and I could only assume she recalled the past.

“We had a fight, Yuko-chan?”

She nodded.

“Y-Yeah… and then the next day you…. Ah stopped coming to school. I was worried that… I… I felt so bad.”

She closed her eyes.

“M-Madoka-chan… I've always thought about sharing gifts with you, and… two years ago, I thought I ruined that."

Her lips quivered as our eyes met.

“A-And now… look at us… sharing gifts? It’s… like a dream, you know?”

I put my hand on hers and… smiled.

“You know, yeah, it’s like a dream. Things have been difficult since I woke up, Yuko-chan.”

I admitted.

"Try to piece my life together by the words of others… it messes with me, and sometimes I could just fly away and forget everything…."

I sighed.

"But then, I remember I have friends like you all who help me go on. So, we can move on from whatever happened between us in the past."

“Y-Yeah… I-I’ll try to move on… from it. I-I mean…”

She smiled endearingly.

"We're starting over, and… it's going well so far."

I wanted to ask what we fought about… but I had to read the mood. Today wasn’t the day to dredge up painful things. Keeping this smile on her was the best option. Slowly, Yuko-chan was opening up and the last thing I needed was to force her struggles out of her.

“Now it’s my turn.”

I opened the small gift, revealing a bracelet.

“Oh!”

It was handmade, and I could tell by the style and material that it must have taken a lot of time to make. Enamored, I put it on my left wrist, feeling as though I had just sealed a piece of myself closer to Yuko-chan. It was purple and had little flowers all around it. A perfect gift… for me.

“It… reminds me of you, just like the picture on my phone.”

The wind blew slightly, causing our hair to dance together like two ballerinas in a dance.

“C-Can I draw you… ah… one day?”

Suddenly, she asked, holding her tablet to her breast.

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“You… want me to model?”

I didn’t think I had the face to do something like that. I imagined the wrong kind of Madoka to come out. Big bulky glasses and a dumb smile that I wouldn’t be able to stop having as I posed.

“Y-Yes. I… I think it would be fun.”

My heart was pounding, unsure what to say. I wasn't too confident in my looks, and to be asked to pose like a model…

“O-Okay, we’ll plan something soon.”

I promised, holding my bracelet close to me. Even on cold winter days, my friends kept me warm. As I touched my new present, feeling all the love and affection that must have gone into it… my mind raced back to my family.

I turned around, touching the railing separating this home from the streets below. My fingers clenched the rails as I… spoke from the heart.

“Yuko-chan… My mom and I had a fight… and we haven't been talking since."

I confessed, not turning back to her. My cheeks were warm as I fell back into that day.

“I see… I-It was a big… enough fight that you moved out?”

Yuko-chan muttered.

“Yeah…”

I clenched my hand on the bars to the point that they started to hurt.

"But… I want my mom to be happy, you know? I… I caused her problems because I was selfish… and I just want her to be happy."

With one hand, I curled my fingers through my hair.

"I want my family to be happy... even if I can't, Yuko-chan."

My stomach dropped as I thought about it. If Mari-san told me to try not to worry and let her figure it out, my mind wouldn't stop worrying. In a way... my life feels like it is at a standstill because my heart refuses to stop beating fast... when I think of her name.

“M-Madoka-chan... Ah...”

She paused, and like always, she pushed out her feelings.

"I-I don't know what happened, but... is it right if you can't be happy too?"

I put my head down.

"I just... don't see how this problem ends without me being hurt, Yuko-chan. It's complicated, and I'll confide in you about it one day."

With my head held high, I confessed.

"Thanks to you and my other friends, I've… I've been able to go on. You all mean a lot to me."

Slowly, the ghost approached me. Yuko-chan was standing closer to me. Our eyes met, and… our noses were almost touching. Gently, she wrapped her arms around me and held my back.

“Ah… you… you can always talk to me about… things too… Madoka-s... Madoka-senpai.”

Her calm voice resonated with me. It took me back… to a time that vaguely came to mind. The smell of peach… or another fruit touched my nose. I imagined that more petite version of Yuko-chan…

Touching my shoulders…

Her face was close to mine…

I opened my eyes and met with hers. A swirl of butterflies raced into my stomach. Something was slowly opening in that blank part of my mind. This… felt like deja vu, our embrace here. My mind raced back to Yuko-chan's short version in that gym uniform.

My chest twisted as my head was filled with a memory clouded by time and obscurity. I backed up... just like I did that day.

“Ah… Yuko-chan?”

A strange sensation was causing me anxiety. 

“Y-Yes, Madoka-chan?”

I swallowed, and my throat was dry. I was deciding if I should press this further. It was like when I woke up, remembering the accident between mom and me. The day I lay on Mari-san’s lap, trying to calm down. Something was going around in my heart, like how I felt when I thought about Mari-san before she told me the truth.

As if my mind was slowly opening up to...

What happened between us in the past.

“Yuko-chan... what did we fight-”

“Onee-san.”

Hana-chan peaked out of the doorway to the balcony, cutting off my words and train of thought.

“W-What’s wrong, Hana-chan?”

My anxiety settled as Hana-chan looked at Yuko-chan and me, holding each other. With a slight cough, she continued.

“Saitou-san said they were about to get the karaoke machine rolling. She was wondering what music everyone wanted."

I jumped up.

“Oh?!”

From inside, I could hear Risa-san laugh.

“She’s going crazy.”

She said, loud enough for me to hear. I had to calm down and make myself proper. The last thing I wanted was to go back inside, jumping up and down like a five-year-old in a playpen.

“O-Okay, Hana-chan.”

I held Yuko-chan’s hand.

“Let’s go, Yuko-chan.”

“A-Ah, okay.”

 

I guess our chat about the past needed to wait a bit longer.

The butterflies in my stomach soothed down, and I made a mental note to ask Yuko-chan more about it after our party ended.

 

 

 

 

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