Chapter Text
"You look happy these days."
Lala frowns at her part-timer. It's not rare for him to say something like this, really, but the way he worded it…
"Are you saying I'm normally a depressed old hag?" she scoffs. "You little brat, watch your mouth or I won't help you put a kimono on ever again."
Akira laughs. He twirls one of the many long black curls of the wig he's wearing tonight around his finger. "No, I just mean that you kinda… glow a bit more? And you really stopped smoking, huh. Must be the girls?"
Lala smiles. "What can I say, your friends are certainly a lively bunch. Makes me feel like a freshly-baked mama in her prime years."
The last months brought more change to Crossroads than she could have ever dreamed of. It's exciting and Lala never knew how boring her life had been until meeting the colourful group of girls one by one and making a permanent space for each of them in this small corner of the world she calls her home. Crossroads might still be empty tonight and give her a small, relaxing break from the action, but she can still feel everyone's presence in the room.
Akira laughs, but Lala notices a strain in his voice. He keeps quiet, though.
"… Out with it, honey. You know you can't hide your problems from me."
He hesitates for a moment, then sighs. "It's really nothing important."
"It's important to me," Lala fires back.
Akira shuffles around the bar a bit, passing a rag between his hands, his eyes fixated on it. "It's stupid. You prefer my friends, don't you? Uh… Forget I even asked. I just imagine you get along better with actual girls…"
That's the last thing Lala expected to hear from him. In fact, she was already gearing up for a good boyfriend story, but to think Akira had started getting doubts about their relationship now that he has to share his pseudo-Mama with five other girls?
Then again, it's a worry so typically Akira that Lala shouldn't even be surprised.
"Oh honey, where do I even start picking that apart?" she sighs and rubs her temples. "I'm just glad you actually communicated it."
"I know it's stupid, just ignore it," Akira mumbles and picks at the sleeves of his kimono.
No can do. Lala has the feeling that this is connected to something different than just her spending more time with his friends now.
"It's stupid indeed, because there's nothing differentiating them from you," Lala huffs. "This is about girl stuff, right? Do you have to confess something? No closets at Crossroads, you know the saying around here."
"Mama…" With a sigh, Akira sits down on Lala's usual stool behind the counter. "Where do you even get your sixth sense from?"
"Not so much a sixth sense if you just outright tell me. Besides, believe it or not, once upon a time I was young and tried out the same stuff you do too."
Akira laughs. "I know, I know, I just… tend to forget."
"You know I'm there for you, right?" Lala comes over and ruffles his hair. He winces and mumbles something about messing his hair up, but she doesn't care. "No matter who you are, you're always welcome here and I'm certain it won't change a thing with your friends too. And if someone has a problem with that, don't fold and instead show them that they are part of the problem."
Akira keeps quiet, looking at his lap. After a few seconds, he leans back with a sigh, his head resting against Lala's hip.
She feels a smile crawl up on her face at him openly searching for comfort like this and leans down to stroke through his hair.
He takes a deep breath. Lala can feel the tension in the air and only now realises that Akira has been preparing for this moment.
It reminds her of herself so achingly much.
"I don't think I'm just a boy," he finally says, "but I'm not completely a girl either. I'm kinda… both? Interchangeably? Irregularly? I'm not making sense, huh?"
"Oh, darling," Lala coos, affection swelling up in her. "I was just waiting for you to realise. And it doesn't have to make sense, don't worry so much."
He hums and snuggles more against her hip. Lala loves little moments like these where he just lets go and seeks affection and understanding. From everything Akira has told her before, it seems his parents weren't keen on providing any sort of care or understanding towards him and got rid of him first chance. Even if it all ultimately led to his life being better here in Tokyo, Lala sees the way it still hurts him sometimes.
"Does that mean you're finally brave enough to try out other pronouns?" Lala asks with a smirk.
"Maybe?" Akira contemplates it for a moment. "I'm still good with 'he him', I guess… but everything else feels right too. Just change it up. Hey, do you think the others would use 'she her' for me?"
"Of course," Lala chuckles. "A few might struggle at first, but they are such a supporting bunch, I'm sure they are eager to familiarise themselves with new pronouns for you."
"I don't wanna bother them, though…"
"How many times do I have to tell you that you worry too much? Just tell them already or I'll do the honours."
"Okay, okay." Akira chuckles and stands up. "Hey, I'm gonna run the coffee machine through a few tests before it breaks on me again."
"Ah, forgot about that thing already. I should really get a new one. Actually, I should just invest into renovating the whole place with everything that's broken around here!" Lala laughs. "At least one of us girls is thinking ahead," she adds in a joking way, but with one word having more intent than one would initially think.
Sure enough, Akira freezes in her motions. She turns away quickly, but Lala still sees a small smile on her lips.
"Hey, Mama?" she asks, her voice quiet. "What makes a girl?"
Lala thinks about what to say to her. It should come easy to her. After all, she made a choice a long time ago, one that confirmed that being seen as a girl—no, being a girl—was much more preferable than the alternative. Not regarding genders outside the binary, of course. That has never been the right shoe for her, but she can still understand where Akira is coming from.
"I don't think I have an easy answer to that, honey," she sighs.
"Figures," Akira laughs. "If it were that easy, I'd know it myself."
Lala hums in agreement. "How about we ask your girl friends? I never really talked about them with that."
"Might be worth a try."
"Huh. That's… a hard question. Hey, what's even in this? It's not bad!"
Ann stirs her drink enthusiastically, leaning down and watching the colours swirl together. Her face looks comically distorted through the glass. It makes Lala snort in amusement.
"That's the green tea, mango juice and coconut milk drink. Sumi-chan's suggestion. By the way, dear, how are you holding up?" She turns to the other girl at the counter.
Sumire looks about ready to pass out. "Bad idea," she croaks out, but still goes in for another sip.
"Huh? Sumi-chan! Don't drink it!" Ann cries out. "It looks terrible!"
"You get used to it," the redhead forces a laugh as bitter as her coffee-cola concoction probably tastes. "Alright! On to the next ones! I'm gonna find at least one unusual drink tonight that's good enough to put on the menu!"
"What an… admirable mission," Lala sighs. "Don't let me stop you, girls. Ann-chan, I thought you don't like bitter stuff?"
"Gotta prepare for my pole-dancing lesson later so I can keep up with Sumire-chan! If something's gross, that means it's healthy!" She fistbumps the air, and with great enthusiasm, takes another sip of the green tea concoction. Immediately, her face twists into a grimace. "Yeah, it's much more worse on the second try. Blergh. Anyway, about that question…"
Ann falls deep into thought. Sumire uses the chance to discreetly push the caffeine disaster towards the sink and looks at Lala apologetically. The woman empties the glass into the sink with a knowing smile.
"If you want me to weigh in," Sumire starts, "For me, being a girl is just… more of an experience? I can't put it into words. I think I have deeper connections to my female friends and they get me on a whole other level. Uh, nothing against Goro-kun, he's still my best friend, but it's different."
Lala hums while she prepares the next drink on their list for tonight. "I know what you mean." She's also pleased to hear that Sumire went from only ever talking about Akira and Goro to seeing the whole group around her as her friends now.
"Oh, that's it!" Ann suddenly exclaims. "Yeah, being with Shiho is sooo different. I have been with boys in the past, but they just didn't get me the way Shiho does. Not just because we're best friends."
"Are you sure it's not just because Shiho is special?" Lala smirks.
Ann blushes bright red immediately. Hah, good to know calling her out on her feelings still has that effect.
"Maybe!" she squeals. "I mean, now that I think about it, the guys were just really… obsessed with being guys, I guess. I don't really like those traditional relationship roles, or being assigned the weaker and more caring one just because I'm a girl. That's probably another reason why I like Shiho. When a classmate asked us who the boy is in our relationship, she calmly said that we are both girls." Ann lets out a laugh, Sumire chuckling too.
"Ah, the age old question," Lala says, amused. "I'm glad to hear you two can handle yourselves. Keep in mind that highschool boys are a different breed, though." She smiles to herself. "Ah, to be dancing in the arms of a man who knows his steps..."
Ann laughs. "That does sound nice, actually! Maybe I can convince Goro to take a dancing class with me so I don't miss out. I kinda don't have many male friends, now that I think about it."
"You've always had Shiho, didn't you?" Lala hums. "From her body type, she looks as if she could be good at leading as well. Maybe Ichiko will teach you sometime."
"God, that would be the dream," Ann murmurs with a lovestruck smile. "I really like having a strong girlfriend like Shiho I can just lean on, but at the same time I kinda hate it when guys try to push me into this image they have of me?" She taps her fingers against the counter, deep in thought. "I guess I like letting my guard down around her because guys don't expect me to be like that with her instead of a boyfriend!" Ann laughs. "I just love to show people that a feminine girl like me doesn't want to be with a guy. On the contrary."
"Oh, a rebel at heart," Lala sighs dramatically. "You seem to have had your fair share of experiences, Ann-chan." She puts the finished drinks in front of the girls and crosses her arms expectantly. "This one was the easiest to make. You can count yourselves lucky that Crossroads has three different types of sugar."
Ann eyes the clear, slightly brown drink with a shudder and slowly takes a small sip while Sumire goes right to town. Surprisingly enough, it's Ann who brightens up while Sumire almost turns green.
"Ann-senpai," she whimpers, "how can you drink this? It's basically pure sugar!"
"It's shooo good!" the blonde exclaims in response and empties the entire concoction at once.
Lala smiles at their reactions. It's exactly what she suspected to happen.
"It's too sweet for you, right, Sumi-chan?" she asks, taking the drink from her and replacing Ann's empty glass while switching out straws. "Maybe this fits our question, wouldn't you say? Girls are expected to like things that are as grossly sweet as this."
Ann sighs dreamily at the word "sweet" and immediately latches onto the straw again while Sumire tries to not make a face. "Yeah, now that you're saying it, dad always wondered why I don't like sweets. He said that it's weird for a girl."
Lala and Ann both frown. "I mean, it is weird," Ann says first, "but not because you're a girl. How can anyone not like sweets? Boys included!"
"Maybe there's really not so much differentiating boys from girls and it's more about the stereotypes we grew up with," Lala muses aloud. "And so we project without knowing about it and then wonder why we don't fit into the categories."
"That makes sense!" Sumire agrees. "Also, just now, when Ann-senpai talked about her relationship, I thought about how I would actually like to lean on a boyfriend in a relationship and just be taken care of. But as soon as I imagined not having a say in it, it turned sour." She makes a face as if she bit into a lemon. "Do girls normally find it weird? Or are we just thinking too much about it?"
"We're definitely overthinking it," Lala laughs, "but that's good from time to time. Especially when it comes to realising how much of our behaviour is influenced by stereotypes."
Sumire hums. "I remember finding it weird that girls would do martial arts until I met Makoto-senpai. It starts to become pretty normal once you become aware of it. And, uh, see that it really doesn't matter if you're a girl or boy in the end."
Ann stirs her drink with one hand while tapping her chin in thought with the other. "But what makes a girl then if we're all just prejudiced? If there's nothing that's really set in stone in terms of personality, hobbies or taste, what's even differentiating us from boys? Or… why am I sure that I'm not a boy?"
Lala thinks over it too. "Maybe there's something to all of it," she wonders. "A certain kind of kinship that comes from growing up in those categories, or trying to fit into them, or breaking them.”
"So us girls are getting along in a different way because we share the same experiences?" Sumire hypothesises.
"I should ask Makoto for her opinion on this," Ann mumbles. "This hurts my brain and the lesson hasn't even started yet."
"Oh! Right!" Sumire then exclaims. "Our pole dancing! Are you prepared enough for it, Ann-senpai?"
The other girl just groans. "I don't know if my sugar high is starting or if I'm coming down from it. Hey, it can't be that hard, right?"
Lala chuckles. "You're in for a surprise. Sumire has thighs of steel for a reason."
"Wish I had thighs of steel," Ann mumbles with a pout. "I have to impress Shiho somehow. She said I'm lounging too much on the sofa…"
"Then enough sugar for today!" Lala says and takes away the rest of the drink. Ann protests, but a laughing Sumire already pulls her to the backrooms. "Do it for Shiho-chan, will you?" Lala shouts after her encouragingly.
As she cleans up the mess on the counter—they really tried out every possible combo of unusual ingredients tonight, huh—she thinks back to what they talked about.
So shared experiences unite girls. It sounds simple enough. Where does that leave Akira, though? And by extent, Lala herself?
Maybe Ann had a point saying that Makoto could have more insight on this. Lala wonders what a girl like her would answer to the question, especially considering her tight upbringing and the academic expectations put on her.
Makoto leans closer, throwing a glance behind her to make sure the group sitting behind her at a booth and loudly talking to each other can't hear her. "Did Akira ask that? Should I have… the talk with him? Or, uh, her?"
Lala chuckles and dismisses it with a wave of her hand. "You're not entirely wrong, although that's something you'll have to ask her yourself."
"Huh." Makoto raises an eyebrow. "I will. Thank you."
It seems like the new pronoun is not lost on her. Good. Lala hopes Akira will confide in her soon. After all, she has already expressed her intent to do so just earlier that evening, right before her friends flooded Crossroads and their little game night started.
Akira, Futaba, Sumire and two new people are all squished into one booth together with Akira's cat. Lala hasn't seen that little rascal for quite some time. At least Akira doesn't try to hide him in her bag anymore. Good for the cat, since he now has a free pass to the sushi in Crossroads' fridge.
As for the two boys Lala is not familiar with—one of them is a blond boy who despite his vulgar exclamations seems to have a heart of gold, going by the way he claps his friends on the shoulders and shouts words of endearment at them without even realising. The other is the stark opposite, graceful and lean and carrying himself with an air of sophistication, but Lala had seen the childish excitement in his expression when his eyes roamed over the bar, the patrons, Lala herself. Lala wants to sit him down, ask him to define what gender means for him and listen for hours to whatever artistic rambling might come from it.
Makoto chose not to partake in their roleplaying game, instead being comfortable sitting at the bar and observing them while making smalltalk with other patrons who are here tonight for their usual drink. And, of course, talking to Lala herself.
"As for your question," she continues. "I would have to think about it longer to come to a satisfying answer, but the first thing I thought about was… rebellion." She laughs. "That sounds rather childish, doesn't it?"
"Not at all," Lala chuckles. "It's just what I would expect from you. Feel free to define it, though, my dear."
Makoto sighs. "I've become predictable, haven't I?"
Lala nods with a smirk. "A girl who comes in wearing leather and studded wristbands most days should not be surprised about that."
"You have a point," Makoto chuckles softly. "Well, to get back on my statement… I suppose it's the universal experience of being a girl that boys just don't have in this form."
Huh. So roughly the same thing Ann and Sumire talked about?
Before Lala can hang onto that thought, though, Makoto continues: "Girls have it ten times harder than boys. I can't recall how often I wished to have been born as a boy, just so I would have it easier in school and later on, in my job field," she sighs. "No one takes a girl in law seriously unless she raises her fists. My sister warned me, but I always thought she was just… whiny.”
An interesting turn and a new perspective Lala can immediately get behind.
"Good old discrimination," she says. "Now that I think back on it, back when I started transitioning socially, nothing could have prepared me for the massive change in people's behaviour towards me. You have a way easier time talking as a man. Even the people who didn't view me as a woman applied the same degradation to me. It was… exhilarating," Lala forces out a dry laugh to keep the atmosphere light.
Makoto nods in understanding. "Although it sounds obvious hearing it put like that, it's interesting to hear an insight from someone who… lived on both ends of the spectrum, I guess."
Lala thinks about it a moment longer. Sometimes it all feels so distant. Like she has lived through ten different lives before arriving at the point she's at today. She wonders if Makoto feels the same kind of distance towards the girl she has apparently been just a little over a year ago—quiet, obedient, confused about her place in this world.
Makoto continues with a new thought soon enough: "But even more than pulling through and speaking up, I think the most rebellious thing you can do as a girl is just… defining the meaning of that word yourself."
"Of being a girl?" Lala asks. "Femininity?"
"Exactly," Makoto nods. "No one expects me to pull of my fashion choices and still be top of my grade. Just like no one expects Haru-chan to be feminine for herself and not to impress men. I… think that being a girl is finding what makes you happy and pursuing it no matter what's expected of you."
Lala hums. "You and Haru seem so different at first glance, but you really understand each other's heart."
"Huh?" Makoto tries to act cool, but Lala sees how she took the remark. "Her… heart? Please, Haru is very open about herself when she trusts someone."
"Oh, don't even go there, you can't deny there's something linking you two," Lala smirks. "Both of you evade the question whenever your Mama goes in for the shovel talk. I normally don't tease good friends such as you two that much, but…"
"That's what we are, good friends." Makoto says sternly. Her resolve immediately breaks together with her voice just the tiniest bit the next second: "I'd rather have a good friend than try and ruin it with childish ideas."
She caught the bait and promptly choked on it. Lala feels pity for Makoto—if she would only know how often she is on Haru's mind! Lala sees it in the way Haru leaves little gifts for Makoto under the counter, like a fresh batch of tomatoes her garden yielded or a tiny doodle of that bear mascot on a post-it note together with an encouraging message for her exams. Or how Haru would talk about Makoto’s life as if it was her own—how her academic life is going, what she is doing at the moment, about little hobbies and quirks that no one else quite notices.
Just as she's opening her mouth, ready to get serious and tell Makoto that sometimes, you have to take risks in life to reach what fulfils you, Akira bumps against her shoulder.
"Whoops, sorry, Mama!" she exclaims, hurrying around the corner and grabbing glasses while Lala fixes her a glare.
"I know I'm fat, but just tell me to make way next time," she scoffs.
Looking back at the girl in front of her, Makoto now has a small smile on her face, watching Akira go about her duties and making new drinks for her group.
"How's the game?" she asks her.
"Thrilling. Just arm-wrestled Sumi and got wrecked, so now my character has a broken arm." Akira's monotonous tone suggests that Lala better hide the hot sauce unless she wants her part-timer to use Sumire's only weakness against her in retaliation.
"I think you deserve it, thinking you could beat her," Makoto chuckles. "Wanna go for a round later too?"
Akira looks up at her with a scowl that quickly turns into a soft smile at her suggestion. Before she can say anything, though, the blond boy screams over to the bar.
"Yo, Akira, get your ass back here! It's your turn to fight the warlock! What do you do?" His voice is excited and Futaba calls out to her too to come back, drinks ready or not.
"Seduce the warlock," Akira shouts over to them so that all of Crossroads is certain to hear. Lala looks around and sees a few heads turn to her already. Oh no.
Groans erupt from the booth. "Dude, you can't just go and seduce every enemy!" the blond boy sounds pained as he gestures wildly in the air.
Futaba chimes in too: "Yeah, flirting with that dragon before was waaay more than any DM would have ever allowed you to do, you harlot!"
"I seduce the warlock," Akira repeats, just as loudly, and Lala hides her face in shame. "Let Morgana roll the skill check for me, I need kitty luck for this."
Protesting meowing comes from the booth and as the game's participants actually start arguing with a cat about the ethics of letting someone else roll a dice for you, Lala closes her eyes and tries not to concentrate on how she feels her hair greying at the roots.
She hears rather than sees Akira hurry back with all the clanking the ice cubes in the glasses do and opens her eyes to Makoto sipping on her drink with a content expression on her face.
"We are both the mama type, huh?" Lala sighs. "How do you survive them daily?"
Makoto hums. "It starts to become much funnier once you stop caring about what other people think and just do what makes you happy. But I do admit that I have to keep them in check an uncomfortable amount of times, since they tend to… overdo it with the fun sometimes."
"I can imagine," Lala laughs. She straightens her back and finally notices the extra drink Akira left in front of her.
She might take liberties that make Lala pull her hair in fear of losing customers, but she knows how to make up for them.
Tracing the rim of the glass with a finger, Lala leans forward with a refreshed smile on her face. "So, speaking of just doing what makes you happy, I'm not letting you off the hook that easily. Let's talk about Haru."
"Where do I start? Mako-chan is one of the kindest girls I know. She's so reliable, and ah, she walks with such an air of confidence but she's still so humble…" Haru rambles on and on and Lala thinks under normal circumstances, she wouldn't get tired of hearing the girl crush, but tonight she's got a different question prepared.
"So you're into girls that are down-to-earth, but still rebellious, huh?" Lala smirks.
Haru blushes as red as the tomatoes she pressed into Lala's hands just a few minutes ago, but makes no effort to deny it. It took her long to open up and even longer to accept the nature of her feelings herself, but by now Lala knows how to best lure the girl out of hiding when it comes to Makoto.
"I… suppose," Haru starts. "I like dependable people, both boys and girls that I know I can put my trust in no matter what happens and that can stand up for themselves and encourage me too. But… I think I especially like girls that are… defying the norm?" She furrows her eyebrows, searching for the right words.
“Hm. Unusual," Lala says, "to think that you would seek out someone more punkish when I see the ruffles on your dresses increasing by the week. Is it the contrast that's really fitting for you, Haru-chan?"
"Hm." She thinks about it for a moment. "It's not just that, I think. I've known Mako-chan for a long time, but only when she started to change was when I began to saw her… like that, you know how." Haru blushes even more as a smile curls her lips up. "She became a bit… harsher in her tone and wasn't afraid to head into confrontation, but I think it was the change in the way she laughed that got me. Her laughter suddenly sounded so… free.”
As Haru sighs dreamily and bites into a tomato, Lala thinks about it more. "I could imagine that's exactly what draws you to people the most. You know, the whole freedom thing."
Haru hums affirmatively, swallowing first before speaking. "You might be right, Mama. You know, my childhood dream was always being a princess so a knight would rescue me. Maybe that ties back to that."
Lala is just about to ask the usual question when she stops herself. She knows about Haru's way to express femininity, shouldn't she rather… rephrase the question?
"Haru-chan, what do you think makes a man?"
Before Haru has a chance to answer, though, a comically deep voice comes from the backrooms to the front and with it, a familiar face.
"What is a man?" Futaba says dramatically, "a miserable little pile of secrets!”
"One that you're close to sorting through, I see," Lala hums as she looks the girl up and down. Once her interest in drag and costuming solidified, she had only gotten better at coordinating her outfits and make-up. Tonight, her face is contoured and painted in a way that makes her almost unrecognisable and her suit glitters and sparkles where the light falls on it. Lala reminds herself once again to call in a few old friends from the drag king scene sometime—Futaba is at a point where Lala wants to offer her more opportunities than a dingy closet in a run-down bar.
Haru clasps her hands together in delight, watching Futaba strike a confident pose. "You look dashing, Futaba-chan!"
Futaba clears her throat. "Not as dashing as… wait, this is awkward." She groans and tries again, deepening her voice and adding intonation to it that Lala can only describe as extraordinary: "I would look even more dashing with a handsome princess by my side! Will you give me the honour of letting me help with your look tonight, Lady Okumura?"
Haru looks close to bursting with happiness—it's especially cute given that Futaba's words are only for theatricals since they discussed their plans for tonight beforehand. Haru expressed one too many times that she would love to doll herself up just like Futaba does, just in the opposite way, and their ideas took off from there.
Futaba puts various kinds of make-up, wipes and mirrors on the counter while Haru giggles. "I accept your invitation, Sir Sakura,” she exclaims in the same dramatical way Futaba did.
Lala almost wants to film the exchange. It's always utterly cute to see those two interacting with each other—not an ounce of snark and just kindness and understanding with a dash of humour.
"Great! Hold still and I'm gonna put all that foundation on you and hope it doesn't get too awkward. Uh, just bros being bros," Futaba says as she picks up a brush and perches herself on the stool beside Haru, inspecting her face while Haru pulls her hair up. "Right, I crashed your little chat about men. What was that about?"
"Oh, Lala-chan and I talked about what I like in girls and then she asked that question!" Haru says, closing her eyes as Futaba tentatively brings the brush against her cheek.
"Feel free to add your input too, Futaba-chan," Lala adds. "What I'm really after is what you think differentiates men from women."
Futaba scoffs. "Don't know, I lost my gender in the accident."
"Oh, so you're back in character," Lala says with a smirk.
"Yeah, but in general I really don't give a damn about gender," Futaba hums and starts applying a few different shades of beige on Haru, trying to get her skintone right. "Buuut I can't very well say there's no difference if I dress up a way and call it a parody of what a guy is, you know?"
"You look like men are the parody rather than you," Haru giggles.
"Aw, Haru!" Futaba actually laughs at her remark. "Warn a guy!"
The girls laugh and Lala sees that Futaba is getting more comfortable at her self-imposed task now that she doesn't care about getting closer to Haru's face anymore, getting lost in her motions as if she would do any other work.
Haru speaks up once again after a while. "I like deciding myself what being a girl means for me and seeing how other girls like Mako-chan act. I can't very well speak for the boys, though. How about asking Akira?"
"I don't think that's really the best ‘boy’ to ask," Futaba grins.
"Oh!" Haru seems surprised, but not unpleasantly. "I should probably ask him how he identifies sometime! I had a hunch, but I'm not really familiar with the topic."
"Eh, it's easier than it seems," Futaba shrugs even though Haru can't see it with her eyes closed. "Just throw in a few new pronouns, they are gonna pretend to not care much, but it will go a long way in making them feel comfortable.”
Haru nods, the brush spreading more make-up over her face with the motion. "Okay, I will do that then!"
Lala can't help sighing wistfully at the girls. "Back in my day, it wasn't that simple for most people."
"Well, we aren't really most people, are we?" Haru counters, her tone teasing.
Lala laughs and decides to drop the topic. She already got all the answers she could have wanted—sometimes, not caring is the strongest statement you can make.
As she watches the girls marvelling at Haru's face in the mirror, looking through the closet for anything that could be salvageable as a dress and taking selfies together for their group chat, she thinks she might have an answer for Akira now.
"So I played detective for you," Lala starts as she takes a plate from Akira's hands before she can stow it away and starts drying it off with a towel. "Sweetheart, you didn't dry the underside. Don't get lost in your head while you're on the clock."
"Sorry," she mumbles embarrassedly.
"Put another wet plate into the cupboard and you have to put your makeup on yourself from now on." Lala sighs, recognising herself that her threats are entirely show by now.
Akira chuckles. "You know, I've actually gotten good at that." She looks away shyly. "My boyfriend helps me."
Huh. Yeah, that's still something Lala hasn't addressed yet. And right now doesn't seem like the right time too. When will she finally sit her girl down for the talk she dreads just as much?
For now, Lala settles on the thing most prevalent in her mind when thinking about everything she has heard of Akira's boyfriend so far.
"Be glad for him, you little heartbreaker."
Akira hums. "Every day. So, what did you find out?"
Lala thinks about it for a moment, stopping in her motions. Then she smiles. "That you're as much a girl as any other and that there's no better friend group you could have ended up with."
As Lala puts the plate away, now properly dried off, she sees a bright smile spread over Akira's face too.
"Did you really talk to them? I could have told them myself, you know," she chuckles and plays with one of her many curls.
"Oh, I didn't say much. Most figured it out themselves, you know?" Lala decides to commit and takes Akira's towel too to take care of the few glasses and plates still waiting for their turn in the dish rack.
Akira watches and fumbles more with her hair before apparently remembering that it's a wig that slipped loose because of that habit a few times in the past already, her hands falling to her sides. "Still, thanks. So, what's the overall verdict, though? Oh, and can I help with anything else?"
"Go make us a coffee, dear. And as for your question," Lala thinks it over briefly, all the statements she has heard over the past days blurring into an amalgamation, "what makes a girl is entirely up to you. There's no one way—it’s a feeling you have."
Akira lingers in place for a moment. "Sounds… unhelpful. But it's probably what my friends told you, huh? So it must be true."
"Of course, dear."
Akira hums and before Lala can register it, she's hugged from the side for just a second. When she puts the plate away with a smile and goes to wrap her arms around Akira too, the girl steps away, though. "Thanks." And before Lala can crack and pull her back, stroking her hair and telling her that she will always have a safe place in Crossroads and in Lala, she's fleeing to the coffee maker. Lala thinks she sees her hiding a smile and feels herself growing warm.
"You're a darling, you know that?"
She hopes that no matter where life takes Akira and the other girls, they won't forget her here and at the end of the day always come back to the only place where they can always let loose and be themselves.
With sentimental thoughts on her mind, Lala dries off dishes for a while and almost makes the same mistake as Akira before, only catching herself putting a dripping wet plate away as the girl calls out to her.
"Uh, Mama?"
Lala immediately recognises the tone—her part-timer is about to say something she won't like. Or at least that she thinks Lala won't like. She doesn't think anything could get in the way of her good mood tonight.
"If you spilled syrup all over Makoto's papers again, I'm making you copy them all by hand this time," she teases rather than threatens as she comes over to where Akira stands.
The girl fidgets a bit and shakes her head. "No, it's… it's the coffee maker. I think it's dead. It only spits out milk diluted with water," she sighs. "Or rather, water diluted with milk."
"Add alcohol and Ichiko-chan won't know the difference," Lala mumbles with a deepening frown as she steps around her to have a look at the misbehaving appliance herself. "Have you tried kicking it?"
Akira looks like she's about to protest, but then shrugs and slams her foot up against the side of the machine.
It whirs as if in pain, spits out exactly three drops of milk-water-concoction and promptly shuts off completely. Lala presses the on button a few times. No, certainly dead now. Damn technology.
"Whoops."
Akira is already slipping away in shame once again, but Lala only sighs. "This was bound to happen. You don't wanna know how old everything in here is. Would make me nostalgic, but I've actually got an inspection coming up next week, and if I don't get the mould out of the bathroom and the microwave clean I'm afraid I'll have to close this place for a while."
Akira immediately stops dead in her tracks. "… Close Crossroads?" she repeats, her voice just the smallest hint of shaky.
"Oh, don't worry, I won't let any grumpy inspectors take away your little space," Lala immediately affirms her as she hears the fear in her voice. "Just give me a bit of time to tidy up this place. It's just ill timing, I have to visit the parents this weekend," Lala sighs. "Making plans for getting them into a nursing home and stuff. You know, all that ugly stuff I recently told you about.”
Akira turns around fully, fidgeting with the sleeves of her top and looking like she can't really find the right words to say.
"Can I at least help you before the inspection?" she asks, her voice quiet. "You could leave me the keys while you're gone, you know…"
Lala smiles. She almost forgot how persistent this girl could be about helping people out. "You're gonna steal them if I don't, so that's not even a question, honey."
At that, Akira's expression finally morphs into a familiar grin Lala was already afraid would be gone by her alluding to something that's far more of a problem than she would tell her part-timer right now.
"Yeah, you're right. So you're gone the whole weekend?"
"I come back Sunday evening, but I won't open the place for another day. If you're a dear you could buy titanium white paint for the bathroom."
"Will do," Akira grins. "Who says I haven't gotten the whole place ready until you return, though?"
Lala scoffs. "I know how overenthusiastic you can get, but I'm an expert at hiding Crossroads' problem zones. Even if we work through the whole weekend, it's gonna take a while until everything in here is up to standards, so I'll just prepare myself to have my license taken away. Happened before."
"Not if I can help it."
With a sigh, Lala fumbles through her pockets and tosses her the keys, more for show because they would still have to lock up later tonight.
"Knock yourself out, hun. Just remember to toss them into my letterbox or I'll be locked out once I return."
"Roger that." Akira pockets the keys that she caught with precision that makes Lala yearn to be younger too. "Uh, so, should I carry this to the secondhand store?"
Lala eyes the coffee machine with a mixture of nostalgia and disappointment. Well, no use prolonging the inevitable.
"If we only get enough for Sumi-chan's carrot juice out of the spare parts, it will have been worth it."
Akira hums. "You've gotten sentimental. We've really stirred up this place, huh?"
Lala can't even deny it.
"I wouldn't have it any other way."