Work Text:
“You know, this is how most normal people go about it.”
“Go about what?”
“Inviting people to hang out. You know, they actually invite people over to their houses instead of barging in.”
“I invited—ow, ow, ow, be gentle.”
“I’m trying, but you have a knot the size of a continent.”
Mariko flinched as Mimi tried to cut through the knot with a softer hairbrush, performing the same motion over and over again until the knot eventually loosened, and she could run the bristles through the entirety of the length of her hair. It was long, dark hair, though somewhat oily, and running her fingers through it probably wasn’t helping on that front. Somehow, in spite of her dismal hygiene habits, it was still soft.
“There. It’s out now.”
Mariko sighed in relief. “Thank god. It felt like you were going to tear my hair off.”
“That’s what happens when you don’t brush it regularly,” Mimi scolded, though she knew her advice would go in one ear and out the other without any filters processing it.
“Well, it looks fine when I wake up—ow!”
“I didn’t pull that hard.”
“Yes you did! I swear, if I have a bald spot…”
Mimi gave her a prompt look in the mirror that silenced her. Though Marika Fukuroi was a handful and a half, Mariko was a much more manageable client. She used the word “client,” but Mariko wasn’t so much a customer as she was a freeloader taking advantage of her services. In spite of that, here Mimi was, brushing each lock of hair until it was straight against her shoulders, even running the brush through the underside to take care of any knots underneath. Really, she was giving this more effort than Mariko was worth. Especially since she was probably going on a date of some sort, but whatever. It didn’t concern Mimi.
Her hands did the motions mechanically while she looked around. This was the first time she’d ever been in Mariko’s room, and it was… slightly underwhelming, to say the least. It looked like a normal girl’s room, and Mariko was anything but a normal person to Mimi. She spotted a couple potted plants on her window sill, gratefully bending towards the light, and a few shelves lined with spines that suggested they had to do with botany.
She looked towards the bed, and saw it was neatly made. There were actually a few stuffed animals on top of it, which seemed to have lasted from her childhood years perhaps. The mirror they used was one of Mimi’s she brought with her, since Mariko’s dresser was primarily barren. It was a bit small, but she could at the very least see Mariko’s face in it, with parts of her visible on the borders. Mariko was looking at the mirror intensely, or more accurately, probably staring at herself in it. She didn’t seem to pay Mimi much attention as she worked.
“Done yet?” Mariko asked impatiently.
“Almost.”
Mimi heard a reflexive mutter, and frowned. “I don’t have to do this for you, you know. I came because you said you needed help ‘urgently.’ I thought you were in trouble or something.”
“If I was in trouble, would I really give you a full address and everything?”
She had a point. Besides, Mariko was too stubborn to ask for help in anything actually dangerous. She wanted to bring Mimi along for the ride, not because she actually needed her help or anything. In all likelihood, it was more the case that she just wanted to annoy her. Mimi wondered if Mariko asked her to help solely because she wanted to rub it in her face that she got a date. Was she trying to prove something to her? “I’m not that annoying of a person” or something?
Still somewhat frustrated from her own line of thinking, Mimi draped Mariko’s hair over the side of the chair, tucking her long, unkempt bangs behind her ears to keep them out of her face. Mariko was blushing for some reason, but Mimi didn’t pay it mind and swiveled the chair so that Mariko was now facing her instead of the mirror.
“What? Aren’t we done?”
“No. You still need to put some makeup on.”
“Makeup?” Mariko groaned. “I don’t need any makeup. It’s fine the way it is.”
“You have gray bags under your eyes and you’ve been chewing your lips to the point of cracking. You at least need some chapstick and cover-up.”
“Ugh. Okay, fine, but no lipstick or eye shadow or anything, got it?”
“Fine, fine, whatever you say.”
Mimi pulled out from her bag a set of makeup essentials that she unfolded on top of Mariko’s dresser. Each layer had a section of its own tools, but she would only be using the chapstick and cover-up for now. Mariko didn’t need mascara anyways; her eyelashes were already strong and dark and pretty. On the other hand, her lips were ruined beyond recognition, and she either wasn’t getting enough sleep, or wasn’t getting enough restful sleep. Either way, she could attribute it to Mariko’s own bad habits.
She took a small circular pad of cover-up in one hand and uncapped it alongside its small accompanying brush. Then, with her other hand, she pinched Mariko’s chin in between her thumb and fingers and tilted her head up so the light was no longer casting a shadow. Mariko made a duck-like face, almost making Mimi snort. When she loosened her hand and told Mariko “Don’t move,” Mariko’s face relaxed into a thin frown and slightly parted lips.
Mimi dabbed her brush in the cover-up and started brushing under her cheeks, just to hide the small splotches of red and make her skin look smoother. Mariko’s nose twitched as the bristles of the brush gently swiped her nose.
“I’m gonna sneeze.”
“Not on me you aren’t.”
Apparently managing to hold in her sneeze, Mariko sniffled and frowned at her as Mimi got back to work. She took her thumb and motioned in large, skin-tugging circles to rub the edges of the foundation so that it melded better with the skin, then moved upwards to blend it underneath her eyes, covering the patches of dark purple. Applying the same technique to both side of her cheeks, Mimi cupped each cheek with the palm of her hand just centimeters from the skin—she didn’t want to get any oil from her hands on her face, after all—and studied her handiwork.
“Mm. That looks good enough.”
“Finally.”
Mimi elected to ignore Mariko’s unwarranted comment and tilted her head down slightly by pushing gently on the crown of her head, then stopped her by tapping the bottom of her chin. She noted to herself how much easier it was to control Mariko when she was a human; as Marika, you couldn’t hold her down with five tons of chains, let alone a chin tap. Several years of trying to do so were Mimi’s own personal experience.
The quietness itself was a little unsettling as well. Normally, Marika would be so loud you’d wish you had earmuffs. Now, she was just quietly sitting, allowing Mimi to do whatever she needs to do with only short, quiet words for a fuss. It was like holding a chihuahua that could only bark at you, when normally you dealt with a Great Dane that pulled you on the leash wherever it wanted to go.
While Mariko’s eyes darted elsewhere, Mimi pulled a small capsule of chapstick from her kit and uncapped it, twisting the balm to the top. When enough of it was visible, she held it in one hand and used her other to keep Mariko’s lower jaw steady and pointed at her. Her lips, however, had closed tight together, so she pried the bottom lip open by pulling on the lower skin with her thumb.
She drew the chapstick across her bottom lip several times, then moved her thumb across to her top lips to pull them up while she applied the chapstick to the top of her lips as well.
“I could do this myself you know.”
“What? You're the one who asked me to help you. Clearly you can't. And stop talking, I can’t do this while you’re running your mouth.”
Mariko huffed and did as she was told. She was clearly resisting the urge to bite her lips again, because occasionally her lips would twitch so that her canine poked out, but would then retreat back.
“...Are you sure you don’t want me to put any lipstick on?”
“Very sure.”
“But it’d look really nice. I have some colors you might like—”
“Nope. No lipstick.”
Slightly disgruntled, Mimi applied the rest, then told Mariko to smack her lips together.
“Fine, whatever you say. Are we done now?”
Mariko turned her chair towards the mirror once more, inspecting herself. She exaggeratedly turned her head side to side, as if checking to make sure Mimi didn’t do anything more than she promised. She slid her lips together, then blinked.
“Okay, looks good!”
“Great. Glad you like it.”
“You don’t really sound enthusiastic about it.”
“No, really. I’m glad you’re, uh,” Mimi blanched, wondering how to finish her sentence. “Going on a date, or something.”
Mariko turned from the mirror and stared at Mimi, as if she were joking. When she slowly realized that Mimi was dead serious about the congratulatory shrug, she laughed.
“Oh, no, I’m not going on a date or anything. It’s just, uh, a job interview. My parents are making me do it.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Haha.”
“I see. Well, um. Good luck with the interview, then.”
“Yeah, thanks. I mean, my parents got me it, so it’s not like it’ll be a very hard—I mean, I’m pretty much guaranteed to get it anyway, but, yeah, thanks.”
The two of them awkwardly stared at each other for a moment, trying to smile as though that would clear up the misunderstanding. It was… different, interacting with Mariko, instead of Marika. Different, but not bad.
Using the chair arms as a hold, Mariko pushed herself to stand. Being much taller in her human form than in her Magical Girl form, Mimi wasn’t used to Mariko standing up near her height. She looked down at her outfit, and she furrowed her brow.
“Please make sure you take off that lab coat before you leave.”
“Oh, I will, haha.” Mariko coughed, as if she’d nearly forgotten that detail.
Mimi began packing her things up, stowing them in her bag, while Mariko opened the window for her to leave. It was easier for her to do that than to go downstairs and explain how she got into Mariko’s room when she was barreling for the window thinking Mariko was in trouble. Mariko watched her while she packed.
“Um, why didn’t you just use your power to make me look nice and stuff?”
“What?” Mimi nearly dropped her kit. “Oh, because… It’s only temporary, and it’s better for you to actually look nice than to seem like you look nice.” Mimi paused, then added, “Try to keep it that way.”
“Ha ha, very funny. I look great!”
“Because I just did your hair and makeup for you. Maybe I should teach you how to do it so you can do it yourself instead of making me come over.”
"Ugh. I'm never asking you for help again."
"You need certain life skills, and learning to do your own makeup is one of them. But, I guess I can't force you."
Marika watched somewhat solemnly as Mimi hooked her leg over the window, bag in tow, and ducked under until she was out on the balcony.
“Don’t text me again.”
“I’ll text you tomorrow!”
Mariko waved, and Mimi sighed as she slipped off the balcony and fell onto a nearby rooftop. Mariko closed the window and checked her watch, throwing her coat off haphazardly as she made her way towards the door. With a deep inhale and a slow exhale, snapping herself out of her stupor, she pushed open the door.
She made her way downstairs, where her parents were sitting on the living room couch, waiting for her. At the sound of her footsteps, her mother turned over the couch head.
“Oh, Mariko, you look great! Did you actually put on makeup? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were going on a date finally!”
“You know she can’t get a boyfriend to save her life.” Her father turned as well. “You’d tell us if there was somebody in your life, right, Mariko?”
“Uh. Yeah, yeah.”
Mariko was thankful now for the cover-up on her cheeks.