Komiko and Katie
Copyright© 2026 by Komiko Yakamura
Chapter 8
That night, late, Katie texted.
Katie: Can I tell you something embarrassing?
Komiko: Yes.
Katie: I mean really embarrassing.
Komiko: Tell me.
A long pause. Komiko could picture her on the other end — working up to it, running through all the ways to say it and discarding all of them, finally just deciding to say it straight because that’s who Katie was when it mattered.
Katie: I’ve been touching myself since I was twelve. It felt good but nothing ever really happened. Like I could never actually get there. I thought maybe I just couldn’t.
Katie: And then you happened.
Katie: And now I can. Every single time. I just have to think about you.
Komiko lay very still in the dark.
Katie: I think about your hands. The circles. The way you touched my ear. I think about you looking at me when you said you like knowing how I feel when you touch me. And I just.
Katie: I can’t stop. Like I’ll be in class and you’ll be right there next to me doing the thing with my hand and I have to just sit there and act normal and I am not normal. I am the opposite of normal. I am absolutely losing my mind.
Katie: I go home and I’m just. I’m a mess. Every single night.
Katie: Okay I told you it was embarrassing.
Katie: Say something please.
Komiko looked at the ceiling of her dark room. Her heart was doing something that had nothing to do with composure and everything to do with the fact that Katie had just handed her the most honest thing she’d ever said and was waiting on the other end trying not to die of embarrassment.
She thought about what to give back.
The truth. Obviously, the truth. All of it.
Komiko: You’re not alone.
Katie: What do you mean.
Komiko: I mean I know exactly what you’re describing. I mean that every time I touch you in class I go home and I can’t think about anything else either.
Katie: You.
Komiko: Yes.
Katie: You do that too?
Komiko: Yes.
Katie: Because of me?
Komiko: Only ever because of you. Since the first week of school.
The three dots appeared and stayed for a very long time.
Katie: What do you think about.
Komiko: You really want to know?
Katie: Yes. Tell me.
Komiko looked at the ceiling. At the dark above her, familiar and private, the room that was hers and would soon be theirs. She thought about copper hair on her pillow. Those green eyes going soft and dark. The sounds she imagined and intended one day to actually hear.
Komiko: I think about your hair. Spread out. I think about your face when you finally stop being guarded. That specific face — you know the one. The one you make when I touch your ear and you try to pretend you didn’t make a sound.
Komiko: I think about you letting go completely. Giving everything up. Just for me.
Komiko: That’s what does it for me. Every time.
The longest pause yet. Komiko waited.
Katie: I think I need a minute.
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