(tw: biphobia)

The Giants lost.

Spencer still had fun. She decided she needed to learn how to do that more—go along for the ride, even if she had no idea where she was going, and enjoy herself. Despite the loss, Sakura didn't seem bummed either. She linked their hands together on the way out to ensure they didn't get separated, and once they were back outside, they remained connected, arms swinging back and forth with each step.

Sakura directed her to the Willie Mays statue out front for pictures. On the way, they passed countless hot dog vendors with the divine fragrant aroma of sauteed onions and peppers. If she wasn't still full from the hot dog, garlic fries, three beers, and ice cream sundae in a mini souvenir helmet, she might have been tempted to try it at least once.

It took them some time to get a good shot of the statue. It was late, which didn't help, and a lot of people weaved their ways through the crowd. Spencer recognized the name but didn't know much about him. While Sakura took pictures, she read up about him on her phone.

"Where do we have to walk to?" Spencer asked once Sakura returned, satisfied.

She pointed her finger at the same station they arrived at. "Lucky us, we don't have to walk to the Caltrain station."

Maybe it was all the beer she had drunk—it might have been more than three, she couldn't remember—but Spencer didn't want to go home just yet. The night seemed so young, and they didn't have much time left, so she wanted to prolong it as much as possible. She knew the second they entered Sakura's apartment, the undeniable dread of having to say goodbye again would creep up until eventually becoming unavoidable.

"Is it okay if we get home late?" Spencer asked.

Sakura tightened her grip around Spencer's fingers.

"Yeah. Sure. Let's walk," she added, as if reading her mind.

As late and dark as it was, the streets around Oracle Park were busy enough that Spencer didn't feel nervous. Truthfully, most of San Francisco felt safe to her by any metropolitan standards. San Francisco got a bad rep that it didn't deserve. Spencer knew a lot of it simply had to do with certain groups trying to demonize "liberal" cities and states. The wealthy, privileged, and more fortunate preferred to vilify those less fortunate than them instead of criticizing the government for failing to do its job, or the individualistic nature of society at large in the United States of America. People wanted the cozy comfort of existing in a community without putting in the effort of actively and meaningfully participating in said community. They would rather type away furiously on a keyboard about how someone living on the street, through no choice of their own, was such an inconvenience rather than look them in the eyes and smile. A reminder that they were all human was too steep a price to pay when the machine needed to keep moving.

"I think we can officially call you a baseball bisexual," Spencer declared as they strolled down King Street.

Sakura raised her chin with a smile. "The best of the best."

"I think you're doing alright," Spencer said, looking forward. "More than alright. You seem so... happy. Yourself."

"Thank you."

"It makes me feel weirdly better about..." Spencer stopped before finishing her sentence. Probably shouldn't have started it in the first place.

"Better about... ?" Sakura trailed off.

Spencer shrugged and let her hand slip away. "For not checking in this whole time."

The sound of Sakura's chunky boots stomping against the pavement halted.

"You didn't—" she started to say.

"There's no excuse. I was sad, and instead of unpacking my feelings and dealing with them, I shut myself off. It was shitty and you deserved a better friend, especially during such a new and challenging time in your life."

For years, Spencer chalked their relationship up to a victim of growing up. As if it were an unavoidable thing that happened. The truth came with more accountability; Spencer allowed their friendship to deteriorate, just as she had allowed her relationship to deteriorate. Granted, one of those deserved it since it was built on an already rocky foundation. But she still needed to own up to her actions (or inaction).

"You know, I never read that letter you sent me," Spencer said after a few beats of silence.

Sakura's jaw dropped for a few seconds like she had seen a ghost. A letter long forgotten by that point.

It arrived two months after Sakura settled into her new city. Spencer remembered it clearly, even as it sat untouched at the back of her closet. The envelope was pale blue with a stamp of the Golden Gate Bridge. She recognized the handwriting before reading what it said. A stick sealed on the back sealed the flap. She hadn't immediately dumped it into her closet. No, she sat with it for days like a weight in her hands. Tempted by what could be inside but too afraid to expose herself to something that could potentially rip her heart open, intentionally or not. One afternoon as she debated reading it, he barreled into her house unannounced, and she ran faster than she had ever moved to hide it from him. He remained blissfully unaware; Spencer dreaded knowing of its existence.

"You—" Sakura sat down on the stairs leading up to some store. The CLOSED sign hung in the window. "You don't have to read things you aren't ready for. I don't—you shouldn't feel bad. It was something I should have said before I left, anyway."

Spencer didn't ask her what was in the letter. It didn't seem fair when she knew she was leaving soon.

"I think we both did some things we knew we shouldn't have," Sakura continued. "I don't know if it makes sense to dwell on them now."

"But shouldn't we? Not dwell on them but... I don't know, resolve whatever happened before?"

Sakura tapped the spot next to her. They sat with enough space between them that it allowed Spencer to breathe and think straight. The years pounded down on them like a storm after a long drought. She rested her chin on the palm of her hand instead of picking at her cuticles. Quietly, they allowed a group of people to pass with all of their baseball gear and jovial spirits.

"We were young, silly girls. I don't want to burden our current selves with the mistakes those girls made. Do you?"

Spencer closed her eyes and sighed. Nodded a confirmation to Sakura and then herself.

"I don't know if I would've said yes if the situations were reversed," Spencer admitted, and it felt terrible to do so. With the past few days in her rearview mirror, of course she could say at that moment that she would have let Sakura spend the week with her if she had called her randomly on a Saturday night. But she had no idea if that was the truth. If she would have proved to be the same coward that didn't open that letter years ago. "I wouldn't have been mad if you said no, honestly."

Sakura shook her head. "Of course, I wouldn't have. Doesn't matter what's happened between us or how long it's been. You'll always have a room in my home."

Home. San Francisco, not Hawai'i.

"Here or there," Sakura added. The fucking incredible woman who knew Spencer better than she knew herself most days. Most years. Most lifetimes.

"We were eating at the Makiki Zippys," Spencer said, her eyes already beginning to well up with tears. "It was late. I think we went to a concert or something, but we got into an argument before we left the house, so neither of us was in the mood. We ended up leaving early to get something to eat. I wanted Taco Bell, he wanted Zippys, so, you know."

Sakura shook her head. "That prick."

"It was completely empty. And, well, I guess I'm the world's worst judge of when to say something serious, so I opened up to him about something I had been thinking about for years. I thought... I don't know, I thought he would understand or try to understand. Maybe I subconsciously knew that he wouldn't but I hoped that he would. He was my fucking boyfriend. He's supposed to care about me and what I'm struggling with. But he didn't."

The most embarrassing part about the story she was telling was how long the relationship lasted after it happened. Spencer's stomach curdled at the thought of it, of how fucking tragic and mortified she was to admit any of this to someone, even though she knew Sakura, of all people, would never judge her for a moment. Maybe it was because she knew Sakura would have never found herself in that situation, and if she had, she would have been brave enough to leave.

Or maybe she wouldn't have, Spencer wondered after hearing her story earlier. Maybe they were alike in that way.

"I told him I liked girls, too. About how I had been struggling with hiding it for a long time. It wasn't like I was dying to tell him specifically. I just needed to tell someone, at least one person, or else I'd go mad. I still loved him. I wasn't looking at anyone or fooling around with anyone. I just... I needed that off my fucking chest, you know? It was just... eating away at me." Spencer wiped away snot and tears. "The first thing he did was ask me if I was fucking cheating on him. I just laughed 'cause I thought he was joking at first. But he kept getting angrier and angrier, and he didn't even believe me when I told him I wasn't. Why would you tell me that? Why does it matter if you like girls? You're with a guy. Like, I don't know, dude, maybe I'm being fucking vulnerable with you about a part of me I've never admitted to anyone else? But he kept getting mad, calling me names, telling me I'm disgusting for even saying—"

Spencer rubbed her shaking hands all over her face, smearing the tears around until she tasted salt on her lips.

"He called me a slut. Trashy. Gross. Said I was just looking for attention because we hadn't had sex in three months."

"Spencer—" Sakura, tearful herself, reached out a hand before pulling it back as Spencer curled in on herself. "You're not—you're none of those things. He's an asshole who needs to get his shit rocked and—"

"I wanted to feel normal. I wanted someone to tell me there was nothing wrong with me. Why do we stay with assholes like that? Because we don't know any better? Because we're weak? Because we're afraid of being alone more than we're afraid of being hurt? God, what is wrong with me?"

Sakura closed the distance between them with one gentle hand on either side of her face. With tears falling from her eyes, she forced Spencer to look at her. Her. No one else. No other vision in an otherworldly landscape. Spencer wanted to clasp their hands together, force them to never let go, but she dug her nails into her legs and wished for all of the angry voices in her head to go away.

"There is nothing wrong with you, okay? Nothing. You are strong. You are so strong, and so brave, and I'm so, so sorry that anyone ever made you feel otherwise. You didn't deserve that, okay? You deserve—" Sakura wrapped her arms around Spencer and held her so tightly that she didn't know where one person started and the other ended. "I love you. I'm so sorry. I love you and I'll always be here for you. I'm sorry that I wa—I love you."