Ethereal Guardians

"Hold still," Mizuki muttered, her rings glowing with a soft blue light as she channeled her Hexed Arts to heal the nasty gash running along Sakura's forearm. The wound wasn't deep, but it had bled enough to ruin one of Sakura's favorite shirts. "How did you manage to cut yourself on a butter knife anyway?"

"I didn't cut myself with the knife," Sakura huffed, wincing slightly as the healing energy knitted her skin back together. "I threw it at the wall, and it bounced back. Which, by the way, was totally justified after what that woman said to me." She ran her free hand through her hair, messing up her usually perfectly styled curls. "Can you believe she had the nerve to tell me I was wasting my life? Me! At least I'm not the one who abandoned her kid to chase after some guy who wasn't even worth it!"

Mizuki carefully monitored the healing process, ensuring the skin mended properly. "Deep breaths, Sakura. Getting worked up isn't going to help anything." The blue light pulsed slightly brighter as she focused on a particularly stubborn section of the cut. "Though I have to admit, your mom sounds like she's really something else."

"Something else? She's a complete nightmare!" Sakura's voice rose an octave as she continued her rant. "First, she reaches out after all these years like nothing happened, invites me to lunch, and then spends the whole time criticizing every single choice I've made. My clothes, my job, my friends—nothing was good enough for her royal highness." She let out a bitter laugh. "I should've known better than to think she'd changed."

"There," Mizuki said softly, the glow from her rings fading as she finished the healing. "Good as new. That'll be fifty thousand yen, please." She kept her face completely straight as she held out her hand expectantly.

Sakura's eyes widened comically. "You're kidding me, right? Mi-chan, I'm literally having an emotional crisis here!" She clutched her chest dramatically, falling back against the couch cushions. Her shirt fell open where it was ripped, and she quickly tugged it closed again. "Not to mention that the shirt she ruined was a limited-edition Tamura—"

Mizuki cut her off with a smile. "Of course I'm kidding. Though maybe I should start charging for emergency healing services. I could make a fortune off of you alone." Gently, she took Sakura's arm, examining the newly healed skin for any imperfections. When she couldn't find any, she laid a light kiss where the cut had been before releasing her hand. It was part of her technique—finalizing the process and leaving no traces of injury or lingering pain. She could skip it if she wanted, but she liked ensuring her friends were truly back to normal.

"Rude," Sakura pouted. She examined her newly healed arm, running her fingers over the smooth skin where the cut had been moments before. A grateful smile tugged at her lips, and she bumped shoulders with Mizuki playfully. "But thanks."

"You've had a rough week, haven't you?" Mizuki asked more gently, settling onto the couch beside her friend. She could see the exhaustion in Sakura's eyes, the way her shoulders slumped slightly when she thought no one was looking. It wasn't like her usually fierce friend to let anything get her down like this.

"Yeah," Sakura admitted quietly, picking at a loose thread on her ruined shirt. "I just... I guess I thought maybe this time would be different, you know? That maybe she'd actually want to be my mom for once instead of just criticizing everything about me." She let out a shaky breath. "Pretty stupid of me, right?" Sakura gave a fake smile, still fidgeting with her shirt.

Mizuki reached over and pulled Sakura into a tight hug, letting her friend's head rest against her shoulder. "It's not stupid at all," she whispered, running her fingers through Sakura's tangled curls. "Wanting your mom to be there for you... that's the most normal thing in the world." The afternoon light filtering through her apartment windows felt warm and comforting as they sat together.

"Yeah, well," Sakura sniffled, trying to maintain her usual bravado even as her voice wavered, "maybe I should just accept that normal isn't really in the cards for people like us." She pulled back slightly, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. Normal wasn't a luxury Guardians were afforded—especially not ones with ambitions like hers.

"Hey," Mizuki caught her wrist gently, "having powers doesn't mean you don't deserve love. Look at me." She waited until Sakura met her gaze. "You're amazing, Sakura. And if your mom can't see that, it's her loss. You've built your own family here."

A ghost of a smile touched Sakura's lips. "When did you get so wise, Mi-chan?"

"Probably around the hundredth time I had to patch you up," Mizuki teased, earning a watery laugh from her friend.

Sakura stretched, her mood lifting slightly as she glanced at the clock on the wall. "Speaking of patching up, when's the last time you ate? And don't try to tell me you're not hungry." A hearty meal after a good cry always made Sakura feel better, and she was sure the same could be said for her friend. "Come on. You pick the place, and I'll buy. How's that sound?"

"Oh, I had lunch earlier," Mizuki said, absently fiddling with one of her rings. "Just a quick bento from the convenience store."

"A convenience store bento?" Sakura's eyebrows shot up. "That's barely a snack! You need real food, Mi-chan." She studied her friend's face more carefully, noting the distant look in her eyes, the way her fingers kept twisting her rings around and around. "Wait a minute... what's wrong? You've got that look."

"What look?"

"That 'I'm pretending everything's fine but actually overthinking everything' look." Sakura's eyes narrowed. "It was Tenmei-sensei again, wasn't it?"

Mizuki's hands stilled on her rings, and her shoulders sagged. Sakura could read her too well—and anyway, it wasn't like she had any reason to lie. Finally, she let out a small sigh, her resistance crumbling under Sakura's knowing gaze. "We... kind of had a moment last week. After our graduation dinner."

"Jesus, Mizuki, again?" Sakura threw her hands up in exasperation. Clearly, something had to give. These two were dancing around each other so much she had half a mind to lock them together in a storage closet until they figured out their shit. "What happened this time? No, wait, let me guess—he did something stupidly romantic and then immediately pretended it didn't happen?"

The flush that crept up Mizuki's neck was all the confirmation Sakura needed. The healing Ethereal Guardian sank deeper into the couch cushions, her dark hair falling forward to partially shield her face. "He kissed me," she admitted quietly, barely more than a whisper. "And then told me to go home and get some rest."

Sakura's exasperated sigh filled the room as she ran her hands through her already disheveled chestnut hair. "Mi-chan, you know I love you, but this is getting ridiculous." Her fingernails drummed against the arm of the couch in an agitated rhythm. "He's not just playing hot and cold anymore – he's giving you emotional freakin' whiplash."

"I know, I know," Mizuki buried her face in her hands, her voice muffled. "But I was the one who started it this time. I leaned on his shoulder, held his hand..." Her words trailed off and she peeked between her fingers at the earnest expression on Sakura's face. "Then he called earlier today, saying he was bored and wanted company."

"For what?" Sakura's tone was sharp, though they both knew the answer. Her eyes narrowed as they fell on Mizuki's phone, lying innocently on the coffee table. The screen's soft glow reflected against the polished wood surface, like a beacon of bad decisions waiting to happen. In one fluid motion, Sakura snatched the phone before Mizuki could protest.

Her manicured nails clicked against the screen as she navigated through the messages, each tap punctuated by a small noise of disapproval. "'Keep me company,'" she read aloud, her voice dripping with disdain. "'Just indulge me.' God, he really knows exactly what to say to keep you hanging on, doesn't he?" Her thumb moved to the call log, where Kaoru's name appeared with alarming frequency. Little heart emojis decorated his contact name—a detail that made Sakura's frown deepen until it carved lines between her eyebrows.

The timestamps told their own story: multiple phone calls in the afternoon followed by a longer discussion in the evening, usually after midnight. 'Stupid romantic gestures', Sakura mused, 'mixed in with no-strings-attached flirting.' Her friend was walking a tightrope of difficult-to-handle emotions, and it was starting to make her skin crawl. It was time to call things like they saw them.

Sakura tossed the phone onto the coffee table with a clatter, her eyes blazing with frustration. "Mi-chan, you can't keep doing this to yourself. This whole dance you two are doing—it's not healthy." Her voice softened slightly as she watched Mizuki's shoulders tense. "I know you care about him, but he's treating you like some kind of emotional safety net. Someone he can call whenever he's lonely, kiss whenever he feels like it, and then push away when things get too real."

Mizuki's fingers twisted in her lap like tendrils of ivy winding up a lattice. The truth in Sakura's words stung, but beneath that pain was a deeper ache—the kind that came from wanting something just out of reach. "It's not that simple," she whispered. She didn't even know how to articulate the full extent of her feelings for Kaoru. What began as a childish crush had morphed into something much more complicated.

"Isn't it, though?" Sakura challenged, leaning forward. "Because from where I'm sitting—"

The sharp trill of Mizuki's phone cut through their conversation. The screen lit up with Kaoru's name, those little hearts suddenly seeming to mock them both. Mizuki lunged for the device, but Sakura was faster, snatching it up and holding it high above her head. There was no way Mizuki was getting past the foot of height Sakura had on her. "Sakura, please," Mizuki pleaded, reaching futilely for the phone. Her height—or lack thereof—had never felt more frustrating than in this moment. "He might be worried about earlier when I fell—"

"That's exactly my point!" Sakura kept the phone just out of reach, using her superior height to her advantage. "You're always making excuses for him, always dropping everything when he calls—"

"I just healed your arm," Mizuki cut in, her voice taking on an edge of desperation as the phone continued to ring. "You owe me." Her mind conjured up worst-case scenarios. What if he was in trouble, hurt, or worse—what if he needed her help?

Sakura looked at her newly healed arm, then at her friend's pleading face, and finally at the still-ringing phone. With a heavy sigh that made her whole body sag, she relented and handed the device over. "Fine. But we're not done talking about this."

Mizuki snatched the phone, her heart hammering against her ribs as she answered. "Hello?"

"Hey," Kaoru's voice came through. He was relieved to hear her safe and sound. "You okay? I heard you fall earlier before the call cut out."

Her throat tightened at the genuine worry in his voice. This was the part that made everything so complicated, the reason she found it impossible to move on. Mizuki had forgotten all the times he'd pushed her away the moment he showed care. She caught Sakura's stare from the corner of her eyes, watching like a hawk. "I..." she began, twisting one of her rings around her finger, "yeah, I did fall. Just a little stumble on the sidewalk. I'm fine though."

"Good." Kaoru wanted to follow up and ask if seeing each other was still off the table. He was feeling especially needy for some TLC after handling all that grueling paperwork. However, Sakura's loud and impatient sigh confirmed she was in the room. "Sakura, you alright?" He chuckled softly, able to picture her deadpan stare.

"Tenmei-sensei," she began bluntly. "If you're going to keep playing these games with Mi-chan, at least have the decency to—"

"Sakura!" Mizuki lunged for the phone, nearly tripping over her own feet in her haste. She clutched the device to her chest, cheeks burning. "I'm so sorry, Kaoru. I have to go. Talk later?" Without waiting for a response, she ended the call hastily. The phone clattered to the table as Mizuki cradled her face in her hands with a loud groan. "I know you're trying to help, but..."

Sakura's shoulders slumped slightly. "Yeah, I know. I just hate seeing you hurt like this. And maybe I was hoping if I could just get him to explain himself..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "But you're right. This is between you two."

Mizuki sank back onto the couch, suddenly feeling exhausted. "I'll figure it out. Eventually."

"You better," Sakura said, pausing before continuing. "Just... don't let him string you along forever, okay? You deserve better than that."

With a quick hug and a flurry of steps, Sakura was gone. Mizuki remained, the weight of the situation heavier than ever. Despite trying to will herself to ignore her phone's persistent glow, she still succumbed to the desire.