Chapter Text
Rika was interesting.
This was the one thought Dalia had always expressed towards the energetic leader, and the one that stayed with her, in the back of her mind every time the girl went on about her new crazy antic of the day.
She wasn’t entirely sure what made the girl so interesting, and it was something she still searched the answer to.
Nevertheless, she couldn’t help but admire Rika for her constant positivity and “good vibes” as she always found a way to sneak in the conversation.
To Dalia, “Rika” and “positive” were going hand in hand. Her brightness was inspiring to all of Merm4id and more.
Dalia let out a pleased sigh as she set foot out of the bathroom, gently drying her hair with a yellow towel, nicely allowing a last few droplet to roll of her cheeks. She had been pretty busy today, both with college classes and her training at the gym which, coupled with the rampant heatwave of the last few days, rendered her in great need of a well-deserved shower. As for her plans, she wasn’t completely sure.
Maybe watching TV for a bit, but not past 10 pm – she had a shift to work at the bar tomorrow morning.
She did not have anything special to do anyway, so if she couldn’t find anything interesting on TV, she would go straight to bed.
…And after switching through a bunch of channels without any luck, she resigned herself.
Still, she couldn’t recall the last time she watched a movie diligently at home. When she did so, it was at Rika’s, with the rest of Merm4id. They had a lot of fun that day, laughing at bad line delivery and cheesy endings, and it was one of the rare times in which Dalia let herself have fun without any restriction – and she was very much relieved to see there had been no horror movies in their watch list.
She’d have to ask Rika for movie recommendations, sometimes.
The night was quiet, peaceful and Dalia’s bed felt oh so comfortable as she slumbered into the newly-washed bedsheets.
Such a perfect night this was going to be…
…is what Dalia would have said, had she not been woken up by the three loud successive knocks on her door. It took about three more to get her to move, the infuriatingly noisy BANGS hammering in her head the same way ceremonial gong would.
Her face lazily turned to the alarm clock, red light piercing through her eyes and slowly shaping into numbers – 3:12 am.
Who in the world was at her door at 3 am?
She took her time to get up, to see if the noises would stop with time, and couldn’t help but sigh when they persisted.
With luck, it was only a neighbor who lost their keys and was too drunk to realize they were at the wrong door.
She had some trouble grabbing her keys and turning the lock, both wanting to get this over with and anxious to see how much time it will take – the sooner the better.
What she did not expect, however, was the identity of the person on the other side.
“Rika…?”
She stared at her unit leader, eyes wide and hands still glued to the handle, unsure of what to do. Questions were slowly cramping up in her head – what was she doing here? Why were her clothes all messed up? And why…
Why was she drunk?
Dalia was far from being a drunkard herself, but she was very much used to seeing customers drunk out of their minds during her various shifts. And, judging from Rika’s red cheeks, her drowsy face and hazy expression, there was no mistaking it.
Now, a drunk Rika was worrying enough – god knows what kind of stupid things she was capable of in this state, but what made it worse was the tears watering down her face, merging with the black of her smeared makeup.
Before any of them could say anything, Rika started shaking, and Dalia almost did the same at the sight. The redhead opened and closed her mouth repetitively, not a single sound coming out safe for heavy breaths, only vaguely whimpering and shaking, shaking, shaking, shaking…
Oh no.
“Dalia…” she almost crumbled into the girl’s arms, holding her so tightly it seemed as her life depended on it, trembling members weakly embracing her neck, tears slowly streaming down her cheeks and wetting Dalia’s naked shoulder.
And Dalia, to say it bluntly, had no idea what to do. She didn’t know what was happening, even less why it was happening, how Rika ended up in this state, and it felt almost overwhelming to her.
She had never seen Rika like this. It was so far from the usual positivity she showed everyone – this distress was new, and she was almost afraid to guess what caused it.
She wasn’t sure if she should ask for answers immediately, so she instead patted the other girl’s head, hesitantly brushed her loose and tangled hair with one hand.
Rika wouldn’t stop crying.
“What’s going on?” Dalia dared to ask in a whisper, because amidst the flow of questions she had, this was the one she chose to ask.
“…ki…” Rika whimpered with her nose buried in her neck what, to her, was unintelligible. “Tsu…Tsubaki…”
Ah.
Tsubaki Aoyagi. RONDO’s vocalist, extremely talented, almost as cold as she was pretty.
Also happened to be Rika’s childhood friend and long-time crush. The girl never bothered to hide it. She was very vocal about it, whether it was during their daylight hangouts, or during their nights at the bar.
It was like Tsubaki was always there, an overarching presence shadowing over their lives, her name always ready to fall off the tip of Rika’s tongue.
“Tsubaki’s so pretty~!” “Did you see RONDO’s new live? Tsubaki was sooo cool!”
“She’s so perfect…”
“I love her so much…”
But if she had something to do with Rika’s state…it couldn’t be good.
After enough weeping falling on her shoulder, Dalia decided it was a better idea to sit her down somewhere more comfortable, so she could maybe stop having the weight of a 20-year-old girl on her.
She first opted for the sofa, but went against it soon after seeing how tiny it was. Drunk Rika needed to move, to roll around everywhere to express her feelings – more importantly, to complain when she was cold.
Right. The bed was her best bet.
“C’mon, Rika…” Dalia huffed, painfully carrying her along towards her bedroom, “time to go…”
She only heard Rika whine in response, but she didn’t complain about being handled like this.
Just how much she was affected, the dancer couldn’t say for sure yet, but she didn’t even look like her usual happy drunk self, she was straight up sad drunk.
Maybe she should stop thinking about it, only ask questions once Rika was able to answer them.
She had no idea when that was going to be the case, but she could do the bare minimum. Even a simple yes or no would suffice.
Rika plopped down on the bedsheets, arms instinctively reaching for the pillow above her head and burying her face into it, weeping once again.
Dalia held back a sad sigh. “I’m coming back, okay?”
Water. As she shut the door, her mind went to the image of pure, clean water. That wouldn’t solve all of Rika’s problems, but it would at least help her get her mind back on track.
…A little. She hoped.
The water stream flowed out of the tap, and Dalia watched as it took its sweet time to fill the glass, wondered, once again, what happened to Rika.
She never heard any stories of her leader banging at someone else’s door at an impromptu time. As far as anyone was concerned, Rika always woke up in her bed, ready to start the day hungover.
But Tsubaki…
She snapped out of her thoughts soon after the glass was full, turning the water off while cursing to herself. She really needed to chill out about this.
Of course, she was worried about Rika. Rika was a friend, a very important one. Seeing her like this made her stomach ache and twist, and what she wanted to do most was help.
Her footsteps echoed in the bedroom, as she noticed Rika’s body still unmoved on the bed, this time facing the ceiling, eyes empty, now dried of tears.
Dalia found herself frowning in concern.
“Here.” She sat on the edge of the bed, handing Rika the glass. “You need to drink.”
The girl eyed it with an emotionless gaze, before a few blinks brought back the light in her pupils. She offered her unitmate a weak smile and reached for the drink.
Dalia was most impressed to see her gulp down the water in one go.
Her ability to hold her drink had always been impressive, now that she thought about it.
She seemed…calmer, now.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Dalia asked after a few moments of silence.
Rika tapped her fingers against the glass, in a rhythm that wasn’t so far off from the Floor Killer intro. She was staring at it, at the wall – and finally, locked eyes with Dalia.
“It’s…Tsubaki…” she muttered in a monotone voice, so far off from her usual cheery tone. Her breath trembled, her grip on the glass tightening, “she…she doesn’t…”
Dalia waited, stayed silent as the tears came back to the redhead’s eyes.
“Do you need a–”
“She doesn’t love me!” she cried out in a single breath, burying her face in her hands and gripping her hair so tightly it could almost be ripped apart.
Dalia caught the glass soon before it bad a chance to fall, and immediately turned her eyes to Rika, wide open. She wasn’t even sure she heard that right, rather, had trouble understanding the implications – Rika wasn’t one to shy away from her feelings…did she take the leap concerning her love?
“Rika.” Dalia spoke slowly, put her hand on the other girl’s shoulder. “How do you know that?”
The redhead wiped her tears with her hand, blew out a huge chunk of air. “We were together at a bar and – and I thought ‘hey, what if I told her?’ and then she rejected me and, and…and then she left and – and…”
The rest of the sentence died in her throat, and soon after, she was back to silence, heavy breaths the only thing filling this void. Still, it didn’t feel awkward in the slightest. Rather, Dalia would gladly let Rika rest like this if it meant that she could feel better.
“I love her, Dalia…” she said again, voice cracking, lips curling into a sad smile that meant nothing. “I always have…”
Dalia turned her head away, thought about reaching for the box of tissues on her shelf, but the motion her arm initiated was stopped once she felt a weight on her lap.
Her eyes were drawn to the humming noises, which found their way to the ginger-colored mess that was Rika’s hair.
“Are you okay?” was by far the only thing Dalia could ask, even though it was stupid because no, she obviously wasn’t okay.
How was anyone supposed to help in that situation? What could she say to make her friend feel better?
“’ired…” Rika spat out in a slurred voice, “’m tired…”
Dalia found herself smiling soon after. Of course, she would be exhausted.
The door closed behind her back as Dalia exited her room. She sighed heavily, head dropping backwards against the hard wood and hands refusing to let go of the handle.
She hadn’t been able to do much, in the end.
Rika fell asleep in her bed, after asking her friend to help stripping her out of her clothes.
It had been kind of awkward, with how much movements Rika was doing and the fact she simply couldn’t stay still, but Dalia managed.
Looking back, she did give Rika her bed to sleep comfortably. The realization made her frown.
Well.
Guess she was sleeping on the couch.
So much for her good night rest.
Rika’s face was still on the back of her mind when she closed her eyes.