"Hina-chan, I can't breathe..." Chisato could breathe, actually. She could definitely feel her chest rising and falling.
But under the weight of Hina, she felt suffocated by something different. Certainly, she always felt a little weird around Hina. Aya would always lightly tease her over how subtly jittery she gets around the girl.
Hina's wild and slightly curly hair tickled her neck and face. Her arms wrapped tightly around Chisato's neck, and her hands were tucked under Chisato's head.
“C-could you get up now, Hina-chan?” Chisato asked after another few moments. Nothing but a grunt and Hina burying her face in her shoulder in response.
Okay, so how did it even end up like this…? Chisato sighed to herself.
She was in the practice room in the agency building, rehearsing some lines for an upcoming talk show. Right in the middle of her closing talk, Hina burst in, crying her name, and hugged her with such force that she fell to the ground.
Whatever pain from hitting the hardwood floor like that had already faded, but still remained the goosebumps…
I don't mind this, though… Chisato thought. Hina was invading all kinds of physical boundaries but if it was Hina, she really didn't mind…
Hina smelled like grass and honey. It was an overwhelming sweetness. Not pungent and sickly, but powerful and warm… It invaded her senses, poking around and enveloping her so tight that she saw a sea of colors- blue, turquoise, green…
Chisato had always wondered what Hina smelled like-- after all, she had come to know the scents of all the other girls in her band from frequent hugs… it was just that Hina never really came close to her.
She was working on being friendlier with all of them, but everytime she tried to speak to Hina, her skin would get prickly, face red and hot, and her voice would grow a little tight.
Hina probably thinks she hates her, but it's definitely not that… It's just--
“Chisato-chaaan…” Hina wailed at last.
“Is everything okay?”
“I think I did something wrong, but.. I don't know what I did…” Hina whispered.
“Do you want to tell me about it?” Chisato pressed carefully.
Hina's head whipped up. Her eyes were wide and shaky, brows furrowed, lips tightly pulled into a frown… but not a tear in sight. Chisato could feel Hina's chest heaving against her as their hearts beat wildly in unison.
“I told Kokoro-chan that Misaki-chan liked her and… and… Misaki-chan got so mad at me…! I thought this was what she wanted?” Hina began yelling all at once. Her words were short, quick, and punctuated.
“I don't get it at all…” she wailed, slowly burying her face back into Chisato's shoulder.
She could feel the vibrations of Hina’s distressed wailing in the crook of her neck. She really wanted to melt into it, but…
Okay, focus, Chisato snapped at herself, Hina is upset… talk to her…
“Hina, I think Misaki trusted you with info, on the condition you wouldn’t tell anyone…” she began, “What if you planned a gift for Sayo and told me about it, and I spoiled it right before you were to give it to her? How would you feel?”
“I-I don’t know…” Hina sighed again, “I don’t know how I mess this stuff up…”
Instinctively, Chisato combed her fingers through Hina’s curly, soft strands. Her locks would wrap around each digit, popping on and off as Chisato petted her gently.
“You’re doing your best…” Chisato whispered.
She felt herself spacing out like this. Hina was warm and soft, and despite all the muscles, she felt like smooth honey when she was wrapped around Chisato like this. Maybe Chisato couldn’t understand what Hina was going through, but she could provide what Hina always gives to others: touch.
So slowly, she sat up, pushing Hina into a kneel. The girl was taller than her, so when sitting so close together, Chisato had to look up to meet her eyes. A warm feeling bubbled up from her chest, threatening to reach her face when they locked eyes, so she gently pushed Hina’s head into her shoulder.
She ran her fingers up and down Hina’s back, feeling the contours of her skin, hoping that with each trace, she could write love and reassurance into her skin. Could Hina feel it? Could she feel what Chisato so desperately wanted to convey?
They stayed like that for what felt like endless time, Chisato trying soothe the girl’s confusion. At last, Hina rose from the comfort of her shoulder, and placed her forehead against Chisato’s.
“What if you were Misaki-chan?” Hina asked.
“What do you mean…?”
“Would you want me to tell Kokoro-chan?”
Chisato closed her eyes, holding a pause between them as she thought it over.
“I don’t love Kokoro-chan, so I don’t know…” she said finally, with a deep sigh.
Hina closed her eyes, and for a moment, Chisato felt the gentle flutter of Hina’s eyelashes against her face. The heat was everywhere now-- in her hands, her chest, her face-- but she didn’t dare to break contact now.
“Then whoever you love most,” Hina whispered, “how would you feel if I told that person?”
Chisato felt something catch in her throat at the word “love…”
Who did she love most, after all?
Hina opened her eyes, and Chisato was overwhelmed with color-- the color of the grass from the meadow she rolled in as child; the color of the first dress she wore on TV; the color of her mother’s bed; the color of a spotlight she once stood under--
The color of love.
Looking into Hina’s eyes, she concluded that green was the color of love.
“I’d want that person to know,” Chisato said, and Hina’s eyes softened. I don’t know if that was the right thing to say, Chisato realized.
“But Misaki-chan…” Hina whispered.
Chisato could feel her warm breaths on her cheeks. Overwhelmed by the sensation, she drew herself in to Hina, gripping her cheeks softly, and pressed her lips to Hina’s.
Blue and yellow, their respective colors, made green… It was all that Chisato could see when she kissed her, and she felt the mixing, over and over again, pooling together into a sweet taste that she could drink forever. She never imagined that green could have a taste, or that it could ever be so delightful.
“Chisato…” Hina gasped suddenly, and at the sound of her name without the honorific, she jerked back, realizing what she had done.
“H-Hina...chan,” she responded, no longer looking in the sea of green that had made her feel so much.
“Am I the one you love?”
“And what if you were?”
Chisato felt a hand tilt her chin upwards. Hina dipped in to kiss her, and the world faded into--
Maybe yellow isn't my favorite color, after all, Chisato thought with a smile.