tacenda
A soft weight presses against my chest, heavy enough to wake me but not enough to make me bolt upright. My eyes flutter open, and all I see is a mess of dark hair spilling across my face and shoulders.
It takes me a second to register Isagi. She’s practically draped over me, her arm loosely wrapped around my waist, her face smushed against my chest.
I try to shift, but she groans, mumbling something incomprehensible. Her grip tightens, like I’m a glorified body pillow.
“Isagi,” I whisper, pushing at her shoulder. “Get off.”
Nothing.
“Isagi!” I say louder, shaking her lightly.
Her head shoots up, eyes half-lidded, hair a mess. “Morning, Rin,” she yawns—and still doesn’t move.
“You’re crushing me,” I grumble, shoving her off as gently as I can.
She moves, but not much, still half asleep when my phone buzzes on the nightstand. I grab it quickly, the bright screen cutting through the dim light of my room.
Kai texted: Morning, Rin :) Had fun talking to you last night. Wanna hang out sometime?
I blink at the message, my brain still foggy from sleep. The thought of Kai’s sunny smile and easygoing vibe makes me hesitate for a moment before typing a quick reply:
Sure, maybe. I’ll let you know.
The moment I hit send, the door bursts open.
“Yo, Rin—oh.” Shidou’s voice cuts through the room as she stops in the doorway, her trademark smirk growing wider. “Oh my, what is this?”
She knows it’s not that big of a deal. It’s not like we were doing what her and Sae were doing—this is completely innocent.
Isagi is still asleep, resting on my chest, hands around my waist. Oh. Well, girls do that all the time. It’s not a big deal. I’m not doing anything my religion wouldn’t approve of.
“Get out, Shidou,” I snap, throwing a pillow at her.
She catches it effortlessly, her grin never faltering. “Relax, I was just coming to see if Sae made coffee. Didn’t realize you two were having a moment.”
“We’re not! She just stayed over, shut up, you projecting lesbian!” I yell, my cheeks burning as Isagi scrambles to sit up, half-awake.
Shidou’s laugh echoes down the hallway as she disappears, leaving the door wide open like the bitch she is.
“Your house is a circus,” Isagi mutters, rubbing her face.
“You have no idea,” I reply, falling back onto the bed.
“Speaking of circus, you owe me so much for last night.”
Isagi turns her head toward me, still half-wrapped in my comforter. “What are you even talking about?”
“After you screamed at me, you got drunk, and I drove you to my place,” I say, crossing my arms.
Her eyebrows knit together. “You drove?”
“Don’t worry,” I cut in before she starts spiraling. “I already texted your mom. You’re welcome.” I stand up and walk toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Isagi asks, sitting up. Her legs are still tangled in the comforter, and the light from my window catches the flecks of body glitter still clinging to her shoulders.
“The lesbians made coffee,” I reply bluntly. “Might as well grab a cup and pick up some intel while I’m at it.”
Isagi stretches her arms over her head, but she freezes mid-yawn when she catches my words. “Don’t say it like that,” she mutters, tossing the blanket aside and standing.
I tiptoe down the stairs, careful not to make noise, but the moment I peek into the kitchen, I regret it.
Shidou stands behind Sae, her hands locked around Sae’s waist. She leans forward, biting Sae’s ear, and Sae—unfazed—keeps flipping eggs like this is totally normal.
Ew.
I step back into the hallway. “Isagi, I’ve officially lost my appetite. Wanna drive somewhere?” I call up the stairs.
Isagi appears a moment later, hair messy, glitter still flaking off as she leans over the railing. “Drive where?”
“Anywhere but here,” I mutter, shaking my head and heading for the door.
She doesn’t argue, just throws on a pair of sneakers and grabs her keys. As we step out of the house, I steal one last glance toward the kitchen. Sae and Shidou are laughing about something now, their voices muffled by the door.
That stupid knot in my stomach tightens. Why does this bother me so much?
“Hey, Rin!” Isagi calls from the driveway, snapping me out of my thoughts. “We going or what?”
“Yeah,” I reply, shoving my hands in my pockets and heading toward her 4Runner.
As I slide into the passenger seat, my phone buzzes.
Kai.
Ok :) lmk I’m free whenever!
I stare at the message for a moment too long.
“Who’s that?” Isagi asks, leaning over to peek at my screen.
“No one,” I mutter, shutting my phone off.
Her eyes narrow, a teasing smile playing at her lips. “Ooooh, is that surfer boy? What’d he say?”
“Nothing important,” I snap, turning to glare out the window.
“Mhm,” she hums, but thankfully, she doesn’t press.
The engine roars to life, and we pull out of the driveway, the awkward tension between us thick enough to cut with a knife.
But my mind isn’t on her. It’s on the text. On Kai.
And on the fact that, for the first time in forever, someone who isn’t Isagi actually seems interested in me.
We drive to our local In-N-Out, the rain gently patting down onto the car, the sky a mild gray. We order burgers for breakfast and don’t speak much, just sit in silence, watching the rain.
“Rin.” Her voice is faint.
“Isagi,” I say, keeping my eyes on the pattern of the rain against the windshield.
“I snooped through Shidou’s phone when you were asleep last night.”
I immediately glance over.
“She was seeing this girl named Amile, like, two months ago,” Isagi says, setting her food down.
“So, we get this girl, put her, Shidou, and Sae in the same room,” I say.
“Why are we even doing this?” Isagi questions.
Why? My sister has been brainwashed and turned against her religion.
Despite Sae being one of the worst humans to walk this earth—leaving and being selfish—she still would never do that to her religion. Or to us.
“I’d rather talk about it later,” I say, almost harshly.
“Fine,” Isagi says, turning away to look out the window. Her face is completely out of view. I feel bad, but she needs to understand how Sae is defying God.
“Amile—where’s she from?” I ask.
“One town over. Delray,” Isagi turns back to face me.
Ah, that’s even better.
Isagi taps through her phone, handing it over to me. “Here, that’s her Instagram. Amile.”
I grab her phone and scroll. The girl in the pictures exudes confidence. Big smile, perfect hair, always surrounded by people. Every post screams someone who belongs.
“She’s a party girl,” Isagi says, leaning over to look. “She’s tagged in all these party pics. Probably how she met Shidou.”
I narrow my eyes at the screen. The most recent photo is from two nights ago, a packed house party. Bright lights, Solo cups, and Amile in the center of it all.
“She looks obnoxious,” I mutter.
Isagi snorts. “Obnoxious enough to mess up Shidou and Sae?”
I don’t answer. Instead, I pocket my phone and pull up my texts with Kai.
Lmk if u wanna do anything
I type another message.
Know of any good parties coming up? I need a distraction.
I stare at the screen, my thumb hovering over send. My heart’s racing for no reason. This isn’t a big deal.
I hit send.
A few moments later, my phone buzzes.
Lol, maybe. There’s one tomorrow night in Delray. Why, u thinking of going?
Perfect.
Thinking about it. Could you pick me up?
It takes him a second to reply this time.
Sure. Thought you weren’t into parties though?
I’m trying new things.
I glance over at Isagi. “We’re in. Kai’s taking me to a party tomorrow.”
She blinks at me. “Wait, you’re not telling him why?”
“Nope.”
Her lips twist, like she wants to say something but doesn’t. Instead, she just shrugs. “Okay. Guess I’ll be your plus one.”
“You’re not invited,” I say, half-teasing, half-serious.
“Oh, come on!”
I smirk. “You can stay and keep tabs on the lesbians.”
Isagi groans, throwing her burger wrapper at me.
“Well, you owe me one,” she says, putting the car in drive.
“We should get you an outfit for the party,” she says, smirking as she sharply turns into the parking lot of the town’s local boutique.
Clothes, clothes, clothes. This is too that. That is too this. Yap, yap. Not too formal. Not too sporty.
Isagi is really focused on the right fit for me. Finally, she lets me leave.
I step out in a pair of dark blue vintage Wrangler shorts and a blue-and-white tube top.
“You look great,” she says, smiling as she stands up.
We both still look like wrecks, but who cares?
As I put my items on the counter to check out, some bracelets catch my eye—one teal with a little wave, the other dark blue with silver.
“Isagi, could you go start the car so we don’t have to be cold in the rain when we leave?” I say, smiling. It feels weird—I just feel so content.
“Sure,” Isagi smiles back, walking out the door.
“These too,” I say, placing the two bracelets on the pile of clothes.
The cashier smiles and starts putting things in the bag as I hand her some cash. Walking out, I spot Isagi sitting in her 4Runner and hop in.
“Thanks, Isagi. That was really fun,” I say, looking down at the bag in my lap.
The rain has slowed to a drizzle now, but everything outside still looks soft and muted. My face feels warm, like the quiet between us is wrapping me in some kind of comfort I don’t know how to name.
“Anytime,” Isagi says, putting the car in reverse and backing out of the parking lot.
The drive back is silent, but it doesn’t feel awkward. It feels easy, like neither of us needs to fill the space. I find myself glancing at her every so often—at the way her fingers drum softly against the steering wheel, at how her hair still sparkles faintly with glitter under the gray light.
We pull into my driveway and hop out, the rain pattering softly against the gravel.
Walking upstairs, Isagi immediately collapses onto my bed, still tired from last night—or maybe just hungover. She looks so out of place, her black tank rumpled, her cheek pressed against my comforter. I almost want to scold her for drinking so much, but I can’t bring myself to.
Instead, I set my bag down by my dresser. “I’m gonna shower,” I say, grabbing a towel.
“Go for it,” she mutters into the pillow, already half-asleep.
I glance back at her before closing the bathroom door, catching the faintest hint of a smile on her face.
The water runs warm against my skin, and I focus on the sound of it hitting the tile. A steady rhythm. Something simple. Something that makes sense.
I scrub at my arms, then my face, like I can wash away the tension sitting heavy in my chest.
I think about Sae—about how she used to be so clear-headed, so strong. How could she throw all of that away—for Shidou, of all people?
The thought twists something inside me, sharp and cold.
But that’s not what’s bothering me. Not really.
I tilt my head back, letting the water stream down my face.
My mind flickers to earlier: Isagi’s grin when she handed me those ridiculous clothes, the way her voice softened when she said, You look great.
The way I didn’t hate hearing it.
I shake my head. It’s just… Isagi being Isagi. That’s how she is with everyone. It doesn’t mean anything.
The water runs colder. I twist the knob off and grab my towel.
I focus on the steam clouding the mirror instead of my reflection.
When I step back into the room, Isagi’s still awake. She’s sitting up now, her phone casting a faint glow over her soft face sweet. She glances up. “Took you long enough. Thought you drowned in there.”
I toss the towel onto the chair. “I needed time to think.”
She raises an eyebrow. “About what?”
“Nothing important.” I grab the bracelets from the bag, slipping the teal one onto my wrist. My fingers fumble with the clasp.
“Rin, you’re the worst liar I’ve ever met.”
I glance at her. She’s leaning forward now, her elbows on her knees, watching me like she’s waiting for something.
I don’t know what to say. So I don’t.
She sighs dramatically, falling back onto the bed with her arms spread out. “Fine, keep your secrets. But you better have energy tomorrow. That party’s gonna be wild.”
I blink at her. “You’re still coming with me?”
“Obviously.” She grins, propping herself up on one elbow. “Someone’s gotta keep you from getting kidnapped or something. Plus, I gotta see if this Amile chick is really worth all this effort.”
“She won’t be,” I mutter, slipping the other bracelet into my pocket.
Isagi chuckles, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”
I sit down on the edge of the bed, my back to her. “You should sleep.”
“So should you.”
I don’t answer her. My mind’s still turning, running in circles.
minutes no hours pass of me just staring thinking
I lie down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
“You’re really quiet” Isagi says. Her voice is soft, but I can hear the edge of concern.
“I’m just tired,” I reply, closing my eyes.
“No that’s not it”
I glance over at her. She is laying down hands behind head
“I’m not lying.”
“Yeah, you are,” she says,“You always do this thing when you’re lying your voice goes all flat, like you’re trying to convince yourself more than me.”
I sit up turning away. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Rin” she says, and her voice is softer now. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been I tense. more than usual.”
I grip the edge of the bed. The words are on the tip of my tongue, but they won’t come out. Not to her. Not to anyone.
“It’s nothing,” I say finally. “Just a lot on my mind.”
Isagi tilts her head, frowning. “You know you can tell me stuff, right? I’m not gonna, like judge you or anything.”
“That’s easy for you to say.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I turn to her, my jaw tightening. “It means you don’t get it, Isagi. You don’t understand what it’s like to have everything you’ve ever believed in what u thought was right everything you were taught to be feel like it’s being ripped out from under you.”
She stares at me, her expression unreadable.
“Is this about Sae?” she asks almost carefully
My stomach twists. I don’t answer.
“Or” She hesitates, like she’s choosing her words. “Is it about something else?”
I look away, my chest tight. “Just drop it, Isagi.”
“Fine,” she says, but her voice isn’t angry it’s quiet, almost sad. She gets up walking towards the window.
I don’t move. My hands are clenched in my lap, my nails digging into my palms.
“Rin,” she says after a moment, her back to me. “You’re not gonna scare me off, you know.”
The tension in the room feels unbearable.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, even though I can feel my defenses crumbling as my eyes go glossy
She glances over her shoulder, her expression soft but firm. “Yeah, you do” i roll over and shut my eyes not awnsering only sleep blocking out any thing that could upset me anymore
the next morning the light shined intensely through my window. i promt my self up walking towards the door down the stairs turning left and walking into the kitchen the east wide window showing a full view of the yard. a ball being passed back and forth. shidous face lit up sae giving pointers on how her pass can be more refined. sae has her had on her hip standing so casul shidou practically doing backflips smiling as giddy as a girl can be.
she recives the long over the head pass jumping up with a header relayinging it she catches it with her lower foot kicking it up again behind her head trying to hit it with her back foot she falls pathetic i scoff walking away turning to get a cup of milk out of the fridge a voice distorted but still heard “ill get it next time” i turn back around shidou laughs one hand behind her head i glance over at sae smiling her hands on her knees laughing she was laughing like she had never laughed before the type of laugh u judge people for but ur also jealous the type of laugh that u don’t fake the type u fall to the floor curling making ur ribs hurt. i turn away grabbing a cup out of the cupboard why do i feel like this i think to myself my stomach turning
I pour the milk, the carton trembling slightly in my hand. The sound of it splashing into the glass is louder than it should be. My stomach twists, turning, righting i feel almost sickly and I take a deep breath hoping this feeling will stop
It doesn’t.
From the corner of my eye, I catch another glimpse of them through the window. Sae ruffling Shidou’s blonde hair her smile soft and unguarded in a way I could never recognize coming from her.
I grip the countertop. My chest feels tight, like something’s pressing down on it my other hand gripping the collar of my shirt gritting my teeth.
“Rin?”
Isagi’s voice snaps me back to reality. She’s standing in the doorway, her hair still messy from sleep, wearing an oversized shirt of mine the collar cut out.
“What?” I say almost too sharply. i let go of my collar both hands now gripping the counter
Her eyebrows raise, but she doesn’t comment. “Up so early” she says.
“Couldn’t sleep,” I mutter taking a sip of milk.
She nods, her eyes drifting to the window. Her expression darkens slightly when she sees them.
“They look happy,” she says, her voice neutral but careful.
I don’t respond.
She steps closer, her gaze flickering to me. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Rin—”
“I said I’m fine,” I snap, slamming the glass down on the counter.
Isagi blinks, startled. The silence that follows is thick and suffocating.
“Sorry,” I mumble, not meeting her eyes.
She watches me for a moment before sighing. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”
“Do what?”
“Believe in something you don’t want to”
I glare at her, the words catching in my throat. How can I explain something I don’t even understand?
She doesn’t understand that’s not normal it’s not acceptable it’s not anything i can except it’s nothing i want around me and i believe what i want to and i believe this is not whats good for me.
I turn on my heel, heading up the stairs. “I’m gonna change. I’ll make hash browns in a bit,” I say, not bothering to look back.
Halfway up, I feel her gaze pressing against my back, heavy and questioning. “Okay,” she replies softly, the word barely audible.
I don’t stop. I can’t.
The second my bedroom door closes behind me, the pressure in my chest bursts. I grip the edge of my desk, my knuckles white, every muscle in my body coiled tight. I want to swipe everything off the surface, to hear it crash against the floor. I want to scream into my pillow until my throat burns. I want everything—everyone—to just shut up.
But I don’t.
Instead, I yank open my drawer, grab a pair of Nike shorts, and shove them on with quick, jerky movements. I pull a thin white t-shirt over my head, the fabric feeling suffocating against my skin. My teeth clench as I snatch my toothbrush and scrub at my gums like I’m trying to erase every thought from my head. The bristles scrape too hard, and the taste of mint mixes with the faint metallic tang of blood. Good.
When I walk back downstairs, I’m still wound tight, every step deliberate, my jaw locked. Isagi is perched on the breakfast bar, her legs dangling lazily, her eyes glued to the window. She’s watching them again—Sae and Shidou.
I don’t look. I won’t.
I scoop my hair into a loose bun, not caring when it’s messy or uneven, and head straight for the stove. I pull out a pan with more force than necessary, slamming it onto the burner. The sound rings out, sharp and hollow. The stove clicks on.
Butter sizzles as I throw it into the pan. It bubbles up a stare at it a moment to long before grabbing the bag from the freezer, tearing it open, and dump a lil bit more than needed for the two of us.
I step back, wiping my hands on a dish towel, and glance at my phone on the counter.
A text from Kai lights up the screen:
“I’ll pick u up at 8 :)”
My lips press into a thin line. That’s so annoying. Does that stupid smile thing get him girls? I doubt it he seems a little bit dumb his looks must carry him.
That is so fucking rude how could you even think that. Weird even my thoughts argue with themselves. Setting the phone back to the counter. I turn back to the stove. My grip on the spatula is too tight, but I don’t loosen it.
The hash browns crackle, the butter popping and hissing in the pan. Outside, laughter drifts through the window. I don’t have to look to know Sae’s probably doubled over, clutching her sides like Shidou’s the funniest person alive.
I focus back on the hash browns flipping and turning. I flip them over to early they are barley golden. I set the spatula down looking away hands on my counter.
The tension coils tighter in my chest.
The hash browns sizzle in the pan, filling the kitchen with the smell of butter and salt. Isagi hasn’t moved from her spot at the breakfast bar, still staring out the window.
“She seems so different” she says suddenly, her voice cutting through the silence.
I don’t respond. My spatula scrapes against the pan, the sound grating even to my own ears.
“She looks happy,” Isagi continues, like she’s talking to herself more than to me. “But it’s weird, isn’t it? Sae doesn’t laugh like that.”
“Maybe you don’t know her as well as you think,” I say slamming the spatula down.
Isagi looks over her shoulder at me, frowning. “That’s not fair.”
Neither of us says anything after that. The hash browns turn golden, and I plate them without meeting her eyes.
“Don’t burn yourself out,” Isagi says quietly, standing up. She grabs a hash brown and pops it into her mouth before heading upstairs.
I stare after her, the echo of her words settling over me like a weight.
Burn out. I think I already have.
I rest my head on my vanity, staring at the blank wall. I don’t want to go to this party. I don’t want to deal with anyone.
“Rin!” Isagi’s voice breaks the silence. I glance up to see her standing in the doorway, practically glowing with excitement. She’s juggling a curling iron, a makeup bag, and a tote stuffed with who-knows-what.
She sets everything down on my bed, her grin annoyingly bright. “Makeup or hair first?”
“Makeup, I guess.” I drag myself out of the chair and into the bathroom, Isagi trailing behind me.
She unzips her blue velvet makeup bag, a mix of brushes and products spilling out. “So, how do you want to look?” she asks, twirling a brush between her fingers.
“Just… don’t make it bad,” I mutter.
Her smile falters slightly, but she doesn’t push. She starts working, her hands moving with practiced ease. Primer, foundation, blush—I stop keeping track. After a while, I close my eyes and let her do whatever she wants.
When she’s done, she spins me toward the mirror. My reflection stares back, softer and more polished than I’m used to. She’s obsessed with highlighter, apparently—I’m glowing in ten different places—but somehow, it works.
“It’s good,” I say, touching my cheek.
Isagi beams. “Wait till you see your hair.”
By the time she’s finished curling and pinning, my hair is half-up, half-down, with loose curls framing my face. It looks… nice. I throw on the outfit she convinced me to buy—a tube top and vintage Wrangler shorts—and follow her downstairs.
“Rinnnn, let me take pictures of you!” she says, holding up her camera.
“What for?”
“For fun! Come on.” She grins, and before I can protest, she’s shoving me toward the middle of the street.
“Fine,” I sigh, sitting on the concrete.
Her directions are vague at best. “Turn your head. No, the other way. Look back at me. Smile—but not that much.” It’s awkward, and I feel stupid, but she’s laughing, so I go along with it.
“Okay, your turn,” she says, handing me the camera.
Isagi moves in front of the lens, and suddenly, it’s different. She knows what she’s doing, every pose natural and effortless. Her curls catch the breeze, framing her face perfectly. She turns slightly, giving me a glimpse of her profile—sharp and balanced, like it was designed to be admired.
My chest feels tight.
She shifts, resting one hand behind her head and stepping forward. Her sheer pink top clings to her frame, and the denim skirt reveals just enough of her legs to be distracting. Her bracelets jingle softly as she moves, colorful and carefree, a sharp contrast to the way she pulls all my attention.
I lower the camera slightly, my fingers tightening around it. She’s glowing—this unfiltered, magnetic kind of beauty—and for a moment, I can’t look away.
“What?” she asks, catching my expression.
“Nothing,” I say quickly, raising the camera again.
I snap a few more photos, but my hands feel unsteady. My stomach churns, and I tell myself it’s because I’m hungry or annoyed or something equally explainable.
“Let’s head back,” I say, my voice sharper than I intended.
“Okay!” She bounces toward me, her usual grin plastered across her face.
As we walk, she scrolls through the photos. “Oh! Rin, you look so pretty in this one.”
My throat tightens. “Thanks,” I mutter, looking anywhere but at her.
“You too,” I add, almost as an afterthought.
She stops and hugs me out of nowhere, her arms wrapping tightly around my waist. “Rin, you’re so sweet sometimes.”
“Whatever,” I mumble, brushing her off, but my stomach twists.
My phone buzzes.
“Hey, I’m almost here :)”
Kai. I’d forgotten about him entirely.
“Kai’s here,” I say, showing her the screen.
Her expression dims slightly. “Well, I’ll see you at the party, then.”
“Okay.”
Kai pulls up in his vintage yellow Jeep, grinning as I approach. “Hey, you look great.”
“Thanks,” I mutter, slipping into the passenger seat.
As we drive off, I glance in the side mirror. Isagi stands there, waving with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.