Chapter Text
“You know, you have a nice singing voice,” Hibino commented one evening after evening training. They were both huffing, but Hibino’s old ass was wheezing a bit.
Kikoru, who was standing straight with her hands on her hips, neck arched back, face turned towards the sky. She hadn’t realized it, but her mouth had shut, her tongue pressed against the roof of her mouth as she hummed.
“I’m not singing, doofus,” Kikoru scoffed, straightening up and brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face.
“Yeah, but humming is close enough, right?” Hibino gestured to his mouth, gasping around his words. It was amazing. No matter how much that man exercised, he never seemed to get in shape.
“No,” Kikoru said, “humming is not singing.”
“Yeah?” Hibino asked. “Oh, yeah. I’ve had this song stuck in my head, something like: All your blahblahbah colors, all of the shades, something something. Ring a bell? It’s been driving me mad.”
Kikoru gave him a look. “I’m not singing that.”
“Come on!” Hibino groaned, recovering slightly as he stood up straight, no longer hunched over with his hands on his knees. “Help a guy out!”
Kikoru’s cheeks turned the slightest. “You’re just trying to trick me.”
“No, I’m trying to figure out the title of the song,” Hibino argued. He wiped sweat from his brow and began to walk back to the barracks. Kikoru walked alongside him, but kept a distance between them as they made their way. The sun was starting to set as winter approached, and Kikoru looked upon the horizon, enjoying the fleeting colors as they deepened before her eyes.
She’s always enjoyed singing, whether it was to herself or in class when she was a grade schooler. Kikoru didn’t know how long it’d been since she’d sung in front of anyone, much less a… friend, of a sort.
Kikoru didn’t know what to call Hibino Kafka. He was a friend, yes, but that was too simple a word for their relationship. He uplifted her and inspired her; he believed in her like no one else did. It was a different kind of belief from that of the public, projecting her mother’s image onto Shinomiya Kikoru herself. It was a belief that was different from her father’s because Hibino was kind, whereas her father was firm and unrelenting, considering his crushing expectations.
Hibino believed in Kikoru because of who she was, not who her father shaped her to be. Those were distinct versions of her within Kikoru, and to this day, she didn’t know which she preferred. She’d probably never know.
Still, she suddenly felt like sharing this part of her with him—the part of her that had always enjoyed singing, imperfect as her voice may be. It was a little scratchy as the words flowed from her mouth, but she sang anyway.
“All your beautiful colors,” came out softly. A little louder as she raised her voice, “All of the shades you never knew.”
Kikoru thought for a moment, then frowned. “I can’t remember the title, either.”
“Eh, I’ll look it up later,” Hibino smiled broadly. His face was glowing, his tan skin taking on an orange glow as the sun broke through the clouds and lit up the scenery. “I was right, though! You have a good voice.”
Kikoru scoffed. “Thanks. I guess.”
“I mean it!” Hibino insisted. “You should join the Defense Force Choir Club.”
“The what?”
“The Defense Force Choir Club!” Hibino repeated, bright and eager. “I’d join it too, but I’m tone deaf,” he laughed awkwardly, “though I think it’d be awesome if you got to flex your talent. Did I use that word right? Flex?”
Kikoru blinked before a laugh burst forth from her lips.
“Who taught you that word?”
“Good ‘ol Furuhashi,” Hibino grinned with a thumbs-up by his face. He nearly tripped over his feet as he glanced at Kikoru for her reaction. “He’s been teaching me all sorts of young people lingo!”
“Oh, jeeze…” Kikoru muttered. She put a palm over her face and sighed before side-eyeing Hibino’s perpetually sunny expression. “I’m not joining that… club, or whatever.”
“Think about it before you decide!” Hibino reasoned. “It could be fun. It’s to lift spirits! See, if people can see someone as powerful as you taking a break’n havin’ fun, then surely they’ll be able to kick back and relax as well! Everyone needs a break once in a while, else ya go crazy…”
Kikoru pursed her lips. It was a reasonable argument, but she wasn’t sold. It’d been forever since she’d read sheet music, too. She doubted she could sight-read anymore, since the last time she’d done that had been in primary school.
“I think about it,” she said, just so that Hibino wouldn’t pout.
He grinned. Of course, he grinned. Kikoru felt her lips twitch, tempted to grin along with him, but she had her dignity to maintain. Her lips stayed in a firm line, but her eyes creased ever so slightly at the corners, betraying her fondness for the goofy man beside her.
“Sweet!” Hibino pumped his fist.
“I didn’t say yes,” Kikoru reminded him.
“Still,” Hibino said, “I’ll tell Reno to work on you.”
“Ichikawa’s leading the choir?!” Kikoru’s competitiveness suddenly flared. “Ugh.”
“He’s a good singer!” Hibino informed her eagerly. “He loves what he calls rock ballads, though I’m not sure I understand what that means? Genres confuse me, honestly.”
“Everything confuses you.”
“Hey!” Hibino ran ahead of Kikoru to turn and give her a playful glare. “I’m very… what’s the opposite of confused?”
Kikoru gave him a blank stare. “Case in point.”
“Oh, whatever,” Hibino grumbled. He chuckled to himself, and Kikoru wanted to ask, “What’s so funny?” but didn’t. Instead, she watched as Hibino walked ahead, a few steps in front of her. He had a little hop to each step, like a half-skip, almost. It was amazing how resilient the man was, after all they’d been through.
Kikoru could still see the wreckage of the attacks from the compound. She felt the echoes of the people they’d lost, and some days, it was almost too much to bear. But still, she soldiered on. Kikoru kept her head held high and remained a symbol of strength in the void her mother and father left behind—though it was nice sharing the burden, now, with Hibino and the others.