together we ran
This one is short, it's pretty crap-tastic and fairly old, but it's done XD. It probably doesn't make much sense since, but I don't really care XD.
title: together we ran
author: hika_nishi
pairing: konno/ogawa
rating: pg
words: ~740
disclaimer: I own the computer I typed this on. That's it.
summary: Five years ago they became best friends. Inseparable. Five years later, here they stood, saying goodbye.
(probably inaccurate timeline wise, but I don’t really care XD everything in this is based on some sort of reality, taken from what Konno or some other person said in various interviews or videos because when I have nothing better to do, I watch old MM vids.)
Five years to the day. Five years ago they met. Five years ago they became best friends. Inseparable. Five years later, here they stood, saying goodbye until god knew when.
They entered Morning Musume together, five years ago to the day. It was different then, of course. Back then, Mako seemed like the star of their generation. Mako had been the one to beat. Mako was amazing, Konno had made it by the skin of her teeth. The “failure”, the underdog.
Before long, Mako had lost her place as a possible front girl, for reasons they never knew or care about. Since then, they’d been a pair. Always split evenly or stuck together like a less-obvious “tsuji-kago”.
They always shopped together and ate out together - Mako always tolerating her, regardless of how long it took her to choose her dinner or how many times she swapped a piece of clothing for something else that caught her eye. They’d go out for karaoke together - Mako never seeming to mind when she choose another guy song to sing. Whenever they unknowingly ate too much, they ran together, burning those extra calories until they thought their legs would give.
And when Konno decided to go to a university, Mako decided to graduate, too. But Mako was going thousands of miles away.
Maybe it was her fault. If she had stayed with the group, maybe Mako would have stayed, too. Or maybe she was thinking too much. Maybe she thought their relationship was more that it actually was?
But none of that mattered now, did it? It had come to the bitter end. Here they stood, saying goodbye.
Konno stared at the ground as Mako said “goodbyes” and “see you agains” to the other girls. It felt like the end of the Wizard of Oz. Like Mako would stand in front of her and say “I’ll miss you most of all.” Or maybe, once again, she thought Mako cared about her as much as she cared about Mako.
Mako was crying. She was never good with saying goodbye. Konno was always better, or at least tried to be. She always tried to do her crying outside the view of the public. For every tear she shed on camera, their were a hundred more soaked into a white cotton sleeve or into her pillow at home. Part of her was glad that Mako graduated with her. Seeing Mako’s crying face would have been impossible to take.
But now it was here anyway.
“Konkon.” Mako’s voice is cheery - as it always was when she said Konno’s name - but this time with an undertone of sadness and an uncharacteristic glitter in her eyes. When Konno opens tries to speak, there’s no sound. No words, but no sobs either.
They stand in silence for a moment, not a word uttered between them. Mako nods, like she understands everything Konno wants to say, and throws a hug around her. Konno closes her eyes unconsciously, a few stray tears running down those cheeks she’s always been so self-conscious about, soaking into the shoulder of Mako’s shirt. It takes all her power to keep herself from sobbing uncontrollably like a child who’s just lost her favorite doll.
When Mako pulls away, she gives Konno a smile, runs a hand over her damp face, the other laced with Konno’s, swinging back and forth in a comforting gesture. Konno’s heart feels warm, but broken all the same. Mako walks away then without Konno ever saying a word.
She watches Mako walk away, pink suitcase - which Konno thinks she stole from her - rolling behind. She turns around once waving a had like a child would. Konno thinks she waved back, but she’s too numb to remember one way or the other.
The pink suitcase stops rolling for a moment as Mako turns around a second time. She places a hand at the side of her mouth, “Konkon!” She shouts. Konno looks up, eyeing Mako’s bright smile one more time. “Konkon, I love you!” Then she hurries away through the gates and security check points.
Konno watches her until the last sight of blond hair leaves her sight. She collapses into a chair, elbows on her knees, hands over her face. And for innumerable reasons, she breaks down. For all the memories of the past, for the uncertainty in the future, for all the things she couldn’t say in the present.
title: together we ran
author: hika_nishi
pairing: konno/ogawa
rating: pg
words: ~740
disclaimer: I own the computer I typed this on. That's it.
summary: Five years ago they became best friends. Inseparable. Five years later, here they stood, saying goodbye.
(probably inaccurate timeline wise, but I don’t really care XD everything in this is based on some sort of reality, taken from what Konno or some other person said in various interviews or videos because when I have nothing better to do, I watch old MM vids.)
Five years to the day. Five years ago they met. Five years ago they became best friends. Inseparable. Five years later, here they stood, saying goodbye until god knew when.
They entered Morning Musume together, five years ago to the day. It was different then, of course. Back then, Mako seemed like the star of their generation. Mako had been the one to beat. Mako was amazing, Konno had made it by the skin of her teeth. The “failure”, the underdog.
Before long, Mako had lost her place as a possible front girl, for reasons they never knew or care about. Since then, they’d been a pair. Always split evenly or stuck together like a less-obvious “tsuji-kago”.
They always shopped together and ate out together - Mako always tolerating her, regardless of how long it took her to choose her dinner or how many times she swapped a piece of clothing for something else that caught her eye. They’d go out for karaoke together - Mako never seeming to mind when she choose another guy song to sing. Whenever they unknowingly ate too much, they ran together, burning those extra calories until they thought their legs would give.
And when Konno decided to go to a university, Mako decided to graduate, too. But Mako was going thousands of miles away.
Maybe it was her fault. If she had stayed with the group, maybe Mako would have stayed, too. Or maybe she was thinking too much. Maybe she thought their relationship was more that it actually was?
But none of that mattered now, did it? It had come to the bitter end. Here they stood, saying goodbye.
Konno stared at the ground as Mako said “goodbyes” and “see you agains” to the other girls. It felt like the end of the Wizard of Oz. Like Mako would stand in front of her and say “I’ll miss you most of all.” Or maybe, once again, she thought Mako cared about her as much as she cared about Mako.
Mako was crying. She was never good with saying goodbye. Konno was always better, or at least tried to be. She always tried to do her crying outside the view of the public. For every tear she shed on camera, their were a hundred more soaked into a white cotton sleeve or into her pillow at home. Part of her was glad that Mako graduated with her. Seeing Mako’s crying face would have been impossible to take.
But now it was here anyway.
“Konkon.” Mako’s voice is cheery - as it always was when she said Konno’s name - but this time with an undertone of sadness and an uncharacteristic glitter in her eyes. When Konno opens tries to speak, there’s no sound. No words, but no sobs either.
They stand in silence for a moment, not a word uttered between them. Mako nods, like she understands everything Konno wants to say, and throws a hug around her. Konno closes her eyes unconsciously, a few stray tears running down those cheeks she’s always been so self-conscious about, soaking into the shoulder of Mako’s shirt. It takes all her power to keep herself from sobbing uncontrollably like a child who’s just lost her favorite doll.
When Mako pulls away, she gives Konno a smile, runs a hand over her damp face, the other laced with Konno’s, swinging back and forth in a comforting gesture. Konno’s heart feels warm, but broken all the same. Mako walks away then without Konno ever saying a word.
She watches Mako walk away, pink suitcase - which Konno thinks she stole from her - rolling behind. She turns around once waving a had like a child would. Konno thinks she waved back, but she’s too numb to remember one way or the other.
The pink suitcase stops rolling for a moment as Mako turns around a second time. She places a hand at the side of her mouth, “Konkon!” She shouts. Konno looks up, eyeing Mako’s bright smile one more time. “Konkon, I love you!” Then she hurries away through the gates and security check points.
Konno watches her until the last sight of blond hair leaves her sight. She collapses into a chair, elbows on her knees, hands over her face. And for innumerable reasons, she breaks down. For all the memories of the past, for the uncertainty in the future, for all the things she couldn’t say in the present.