Promptober 2026 Day 26: Omokage
(You should read Togako's Day 26 entry first.)
The shriek of my phone’s alarm yanks me into gasping consciousness. I fumble around my bedside table, groping wildly for the screen, and find it.
Five thirty. Three and a half hours of sleep never slipped away so quickly. With a groan, I wrap my blanket a little tighter around myself and give myself thirty seconds of grumbling, moaning, shivering self-pity before I kick off the blanket and stumble to the bathroom.
Ughhhhhhhhh.
Cold water from the sink - just so. Teeth brushed. Face scrubbed. Makeup applied - nothing that our homeroom teacher would even notice, just a little foundation, a little mascara, some concealer for under my eyes. Tights, because it’s cold. Uniform.
The mirror stares impassively at me, daring me to really look, to notice myself. I ignore it.
All week I’ve been cinching and uncinching my ribbon to get it on, and today, I pay for it by having to re-tie it. I do it on the way out the door.
It’s winter. December. As I step outside, the icy air makes me wince and bury my mittens in my jacket pockets. It’s not quite light out. I briefly let my eyes pass over the Omokage bridge to my right before I turn in the other direction. From home, I take the long way around, crossing the Kanda river one bridge further east so I can stop at 7-11 and pour coffee down my throat.
The school day flies by. I leave Hanasakigawa and take the tram to cram school, where my head starts to pound. The classroom is a patchwork of uniforms. My eyes linger briefly on the back of the neck of the girl who sits in front of me. She goes to Haneoka. Briefly, I wonder who her friends are. I wonder if, on the off-chance she found out whose sister I was, it would mean anything at all to her.
It’s Friday night, and the sun has already started to set, and my attention is elsewhere. It’s my fault that, as I pass in front of the gates of Haneoka, I nearly bowl someone over.
”A-ah. I-I’m sorry,” she stammers, and then looks up at me.
But I knew. I knew the second I collided with her. The weight of her.
”…oh. Tomori.”
”Taki-chan,” she says, almost under her breath. My heart drops. For some reason, I feel like I can’t move. I wish like hell I had taken the tram.
“I-it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” she asks.
”…yeah,” I reply. “Sorry I’ve been scarce. Cram school’s got my whole evening these days.” I waved vaguely behind me, to indicate the direction.
“R-right,” she says. “It’s okay.”
Before I can stop them, the words come out: “Let’s go home together, yeah?”
Stupid. Stupid stupid.
”Up to the bridge, at least,” I amended.
She looks at me, not smiling, but nods.
We walk in silence for several minutes. I cast about for something - anything. But the silence stretches between us, becoming more and more awkward by the second.
Then, just as we turn onto the prefectural road that runs by the river, it breaks.
”I miss… the band, Taki-chan,” she says. “A-and… Raana-chan does too, you know.”
I wince, turning my face toward the river to avoid her gaze. The sky is blood-red; the air cuts like a knife, scoring my cheeks bright pink.
”…it’s just ‘til the entrance exams, Tomori,” I say. It sounds so, so lame coming out of my mouth, but for some reason, I double down. “Everyone’s busy. We’ll have plenty of time next year. Promise.”
It’s not like I don’t miss the band.
Of course I do.
I made a promise, after all. One that I intended to keep.
…but… for some reason, I can’t just… say that.
Maybe because I’m not sure I’m telling the truth. Or maybe because I’m not sure that the band is what I miss.
”Taki-chan.”
She grabs my hand, and I freeze.
”W-won’t you come over to our place? We can have… hot pot. Or curry.” She pauses, and then says something that makes my stomach drop. “Like we used to.”
I take a deep breath, hold it for a minute, then let it out all at once.
”Sure,” I say, trying my best to sound easy and casual. “I did swear I’d make sure you two were eating right.”
The grocery store is warm, which makes my cheeks sting all over again. Shopping with Tomori, having a task between us, it almost feels like things are normal again. She leads the way home.
The hallway outside of their apartment smells like the stuff we use to clean the floors at RiNG, and the paint is peeling off the walls. It’s hard to see that without feeling a little guilty.
”Raana-chan,” she sings out as she opens. “L-look who I brought.”
Tomori steps to the side, and I hear my name - “Rikki!” - and then a white blur thuds into my chest, nearly toppling me over. Raana’s arms are around me and her face is buried in my chest and she’s laughing, and— god, it’s just… it’s impossible not to get caught up in it.
”Yeah, yeah,” I say, unable to keep the smile off my face. Dropping the bags gently on the ground, I put a hand on top of her head and ruffle her hair affectionately. “Missed you too, stray.”
“Get me anything?” Without unlatching from me, she peers into the grocery bags.
”Oh, you little… yes.” I sigh indulgently. “…there’s a couple matcha coronets something in there.”
She makes a noise of delight and starts rifling through the bag, and I bat her hand away. “Not now— you’ll ruin your appetite!”
I drop the grocery bags onto the counter and unpack. I’m not exactly a whiz in the kitchen, but after two semesters of Home Ec in my second year, I can at least manage something a little more complicated than instant curry.
The pot bubbles merrily away atop the kotatsu while I take care of the compost from preparing the stew, and rinse off the knives. They’re a little dull - I’m halfway through scheduling some time in my head to get them sharpened later in the week before I remember that they’re not mine.
Old habits die hard.
Finally, the stew is ready. As I ladle it out into bowls, Tomori is watching me.
”Taki-chan. How’s… the studying been?”
Instead of answering, I hand Raana a bowl. She sighs delightedly and makes half of it disappear before I even pick up another bowl.
”Fine,” I finally say. “I’m not too worried.”
”B-but…” Tomori is still studying my face, like she’s evaluating me for something. Trying to decide if I’m telling the truth, maybe? “You must be really lonely. Staying alone in that house…”
I set a full bowl down in front of her, too, trying to force more of that casual, fun tone into my voice. “I don’t mind the quiet.”
She’s silent for a minute or two.
”I… I really do think you should move in with us, Taki-chan.”
I’m unable to keep from wincing, but I think I turn it into a pretty convincing smile.
”Oh, I couldn't," I say, ladling myself a bowl. “There’s barely enough room here for the two of you.”
”T-that’s… not true,” she says. “We could… make it work.” She pauses. “Or… or get a bigger place.”
“…Tomori, I’m fine on my own.”
No way in hell, I don’t say. The last thing I want is to drag you two down, I don’t add. You don’t need me around acting like this all day.
”You worry too much. Besides, you can’t really afford a bigger place anyway, can you?” I force a chuckle. “Hey, stray - are you even actually making any money busking? You’re not putting all the responsibility on Tomori, are you?”
”Shure I am,” Raana answers. She gulps down a mouthful of broth and meat. “Not just busking! I got a ChouYube channel, too.” She grins, and there’s more than a little mischief there. “Ad revenue.”
I shake my head. “I really can’t picture that.”
The night goes on. I help Tomori with the dishes. We make small talk. It’s little stuff. Nothing of any importance, nothing of any substance.
There’s distance there now.
It grew over time. Not anyone’s fault. But also, everyone’s fault.
My fault.
”Crap, I really ought to go,” I say at around ten-thirty. “Gotta catch up on some assignments.” And that is true. I do have cram school tomorrow evening. I do. I turn to go.
“Taki-chan.”
Her hand is on my sleeve.
“W-wait.”
I look her in the eyes. Maybe for the first time all evening.
“…what’s up?” I ask.
”At least… stay with us tonight.”
My eyes search her face, but there’s no guile there, no ulterior motive, nothing that makes me think the request is anything but… Tomori being Tomori.
I nod.
Half an hour later, my traitorous heart is pounding. I’m right in between them (and how’s that for a metaphor?) and Raana is latched onto me, her nose between my shoulderblades and her arms draped over me, skin to skin.
Guileless. Both of them, guileless. Tomori says something about the blanket and I think I play it off, but I have no memory whatsoever of it. It’s her smell. The shampoo, the sweat, the soap, the sheets and the blanket, my racing, awful heart. I have no idea where to put my hands. Tomori solves my dilemma by entwining her fingers with mine.
”Are you sure about… moving?” she asks. “I really do think we could… figure something out.”
I don’t want to turn away from her. I want to touch her. I want to dig my fingers into her back and pull her close and be here, be here, here, here, between them, alongside them, in them. I want it like a drowning man.
Which is why I turn to gaze at the ceiling, instead.
”I just don’t want to intrude. It wouldn’t feel right.”
”Taki-chan…”
”Good night, Tomori.” I reach over and turn off the light behind Raana’s back.
It’s for the best.
The best, for everyone.
I don’t belong between them.
I don’t want anyone’s pity. I can hear it in her voice, I can see it when she looks at me. The anxiety. The worry.
That isn’t what I want from them.
“Good night,” she murmurs, still clinging to my arm. Still guileless.
The night passes very slowly. They’re both asleep almost immediately. For me, it takes a lot longer.
But I do sleep.
Ironically, with the three of us squeezed into a bed meant for maybe one and a half people, I sleep better than I have in… ages. I wake up with the sun as usual, but drift back off to sleep with my arm draped around Tomori and both of Raana’s legs tangled in mine.
And when I’m pulling on my tights, Tomori stirs, and offers me a smile, and I can give her one back without feeling like I’m lifting weights. She grabs my hand again. I hold it briefly against my cheek.
I demur their offer of breakfast. Raana hugs me tightly. As I leave, I see the question still in Tomori’s eyes, but she doesn’t ask it.
The sun is bright, but the world is dim.
My world turns. Again and again. Home is behind me, now.
This time, I cross the Omokage bridge. The house where I live is just on the other side. From the doorstep, I can turn and see her still standing at the mouth of the alley that leads to their door. She’s watching. She raises a hand. I do the same.
I push the door open. And then, once again, I’m lost at sea.