Just some word vomit. Italicized words are flashbacks. I don't know if it's easy to distinguish that with this font but yeah. Enjoy~

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With shaky hands, Momo opened the piece of paper she spent all night writing. Taking a deep breath, she held the other girl’s hand as she gets ready to confess her love for the first time.

“The first time I fell in love was with a scraped knee, a broken lollipop, and a tear-stained face. I fell in love with a little girl who scraped my knees, broke my lollipop, and stood there crying because she thought I was going to die from bleeding out,” Momo smiled, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

It was a good day. As good as a day can get for 5-year-old Momo as she greet her teacher goodbye and unwrap a lollipop she got for being Student of the Week. Popping it into , she skips her way home, b with pride at the thought of telling her parents about her achievement.

Seeing the outline of her house from across the street, Momo bounced up and down, feeling the sugar rush from her head to her toes. Her eyes lit up just as the light lit green, feet springing to action. But before her foot could hit the asphalt, Momo felt her lollipop fly out and onto the sidewalk, as did her body. Confusion ran through her as she tries to put one and one together, her face distorting to a frown when she saw her broken lollipop lying next to her.

A sniffle shifted Momo’s attention to the looming shadow on her right. The girl’s uniform was identical to hers, body slumping with her hands over , face covered by the shade of the afternoon sun. Momo noticed a tiny finger shakily pointing at her while an equally tiny voice squeaked, “Y-You’re bl-bleeding.”

“Eh?” Momo let out, eyes following where the tiny finger was pointing at—her knee. As if on cue, the pain kicked in and Momo felt the stinging and pulsing on her left knee. She hissed in pain, her lips tugging downward, eyes getting watery as she looks up at the girl, “Why did you push me?”

The girl stayed quiet, the only movement being from her shoulders heaving up and down. The silence made Momo feel even more sad as she wallows in self-pity. She was on the verge of crying when suddenly the girl began wailing instead. Too stunned by the sudden outburst, Momo felt her tears going back in and she could only stare at the other girl. Why is she the one crying when Momo was the one that got hurt? Was she hurt too?

“W-Why are you crying?” Momo asked in shock, momentarily forgetting about her scraped knee. Her eyes further widened then the girl finally stepped out of the shadow and rushed to kneel next to her.

“I’M SORRY, I DIDN’T MEAN TO PUSH YOU. THE LIGHT WAS STILL RED AND YOU WERE ABOUT TO CROSS A-AND I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO DO SO I-I PUSHED YOU. AND NOW YOU’RE GOING TO DIE F-FROM LOSING A LOT OF BLOOD,” the girl wept with tears and snot running down her face.

Panicking, Momo looked left and right, trying to find a way to stop the girl from crying. A lightbulb dinged in her head as she reaches into her pocket and pull out the other lollipop she got. Quickly unwrapping it, she pushes the pop into the girl’s mouth, successfully silencing her.

“You’re too loud! I’m not going to die, why would I die?”

Not hearing a response, Momo tilt her head, waiting for the girl’s reaction. After a while, all that came out were little sniffles as the girl remove the lollipop from . The girl looks up at Momo, eyes b with doubt, “But I saw on TV that you could die from losing a lot of blood. Are you sure you’re not going to die?”

Momo nodded quickly, hoping to reassure the girl. Finally wiping away the mix of tears and snot off her face, the girl broke into a smile for the first time, “Thank goodness!”

“I realized then that I would only want to see a smile on her face,” Momo gave the other girl’s hand a little squeeze. She could already imagine the smile playing on the girl’s lips without even looking up.

“The second time I fell in love was with a bruised arm, ballet music, and a name. I fell in love with a ballerina who gave me a bruised arm; who gave me a heart attack; and who gave me her name,” Momo recalled.

Pulling her hoodie over her head, Momo knows she shouldn’t be doing this. She kept telling herself that yesterday would be the last time, but here she is, peeking through cracked doors once again. She doesn’t un