Work Text:
If anyone were to ask Kanamori Sayaka what she does at night, she would look them straight in the eyes and give them her signature grin with a grim “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
In fact, she does not plan her next money-grabbing capitalist schemes at night under a dim light in a dark room. In reality, she would do a normal routine of taking a bath, eat dinner, do her homework, then sleep. Although after the Motion Picture Club was established, she’d dabble in answering commission request emails or keeping an eye on the blackmail she’s accumulated over different clubs. However, she doesn’t overshare tiny details like Asakusa does, so whatever interesting thing she does at night is truly up to debate.
It’s the afternoon early-fall when it’s brought up. Being surrounded by water does not help the already humid atmosphere around the town, causing some of the townspeople to wear winter jackets or scarfs. Kanamori is one of them, if her legs get cold easily, what more could her neck? She wears one her grandma made for her, a soft knitted red scarf, though if anyone would ask her she’d give you a deadpan “I hate people who ask about fashion out of conversation.”
In the club, Kanamori isn’t the only one bothered by the cold breeze; Mizusaki puts on more chapstick than usual, placing the tube inside her fall jacket she wore instead of the school blazer. Asakusa doesn’t seem to be too bothered, wearing her usual outfit with the exception of the woolly socks she wore.
The trio sees Doumeki out after a successful meeting about their new project. It’s somewhat too dark out for them to stay, but the two creative-minded idiots do anyway. Kanamori doesn’t mind, if they were to keep at it then they’ll be ahead of schedule for at least a day, which isn’t a bad thing on her part. That is, if Mizusaki and Asakusa actually do any work in the first place.
The animator is humming in her chair, twirling her pen and watching it intently as she calls out, “Hey, Kanamori-san? What do you do after club on weekends?”
(There she goes again, making conversation for the sake of conversation.)
“Why on the weekends specifically?” Kanamori asks back, staring just as intently on her tablet where all her emails and tabs are open for producer-only complications.
Mizusaki hums again before giggling to herself, “No reason. I think after weekdays, you’d just go home tired after scolding us again and again.” This earns her a chuckle from Asakusa behind her. “Whose fault is that then?” Kanamori replies. She figured she humored them enough with that, so when she hears no witty comeback, she feels the familiar sense she had made things tense again and, for a split second, worries. If anyone were to ask if she was though, she’d say nothing.
Kanamori glances up to see her two comrades looking at her. Asakusa is in her thinking mode, Mizusaki following along. They whisper to each other with no problem, the shorter one leaning in far too much just to reach the other’s ear. The two suddenly nod amongst themselves, and the tinies amount of worry that appeared within Kanamori disappeared instantly.
She watches as her director jumps from her chair, marching in an awkwardly confident pace as her swivel chairs swivels away behind her. The short gremlin-like determined smile appears on her face, eyes determined, and hat clenched determinedly. Everything about her now in front of Kanamori exudes determination.
“Lady Kanamori!” She announces, in her low regal-sounding voice.
(Said Lady will never admit how much that stupid nickname means to her. It’s supposed to be as sarcastic as the -shi she adds to her Asakusa-shi, and if anyone did ask her why, she’d respond “Asakusa could be Matsuo Bashō in another life.” just as sarcastic. But she knows when Asakusa says it, it’s sarcastic in that she means it wholeheartedly without being too deep.)
(And she loves that.)
“With the suffering my fellow comrade and I have inflicted on you 5 days a week, we see it our duty to ease that tiresome responsibility off of you.” Asakusa says, again in her regal voice she does when she knows it’s too awkward for her to do it normally. She words it to make it sound deep, like a poet from the 1600s as an attempt on humor.
For all her life of doing this though, the meaning is surprisingly easy to grasp. Like now, Kanamori only hears “Let us do something for you that will probably just add more on your plate!” She sighs inwardly, but figures she’d humor her to make up for the last one.
“What are you thinking?” she says, closing her tablet and gingerly throwing it aside on the sofa.
Asakusa chuckles, proudly doing the infamous index and thumb "gun" pose under her chin. “Tonight!” Mizusaki calls out just as excited, sneaking her way beside the thrilled tanuki. “Let us treat you to some food and,... wait for it…” She does the same pose as Asakusa, and back to back, they lean against each other to proclaim, “...for free!”
“No thanks.”
They fall on top of each other.
(LOL Idiots.)
Kanamori lets her grin widen, watching as the two helplessly pull away from each other as Asakusa breathes back the wind knocked out of her from Mizusaki falling last. (Asakusa coughs,“You’re heavy.” Her friend hmphs, “You fell in the first place.”)
Standing up and running her slender, long fingers in her hair, Kanamori remarks “We do that all the time, it’s not fair compensation if it’s not better than the last.”
“Stingy Kanamoney-shi.”
“Say that again, coward tanuki.”
Mizusaki groans, laying on the floor beside Asakusa sitting. “Stop bickering already you two. Asaku-san, come here.” She tugs on her comrade’s blazer, pulling just harshly enough for her head to fall close to once again whisper amongst themselves.
Kanamori stands above them, watching as they murmur animatedly to each other’s ideas she’s sure are just as ridiculous as the last. It’s a move that’s out of place, she finds comfort in that while the two bounce ideas off to the other like ping pong, they still find a way to hit her. To include her in Asakusa’s greatest world.
(“Hey, Kanamoney- aiishh!” Mizusaki pokes hard into Asakusa’s side while Kanamori kicks her. “Try again.”)
“What do you do at night?” Asakusa finally asks, leaning back a bit on the floor to look her properly in the eye.
(It’s not weird for Kanamori to look down at people. Literally, she is borderline 6ft tall and her personality suits it. Sometimes, that personality calls for looking down on people to bluff her way into getting things. She hates doing it excessively though, hating more when people do it to her. Her younger years geared towards that, answering questions only gained in the other’s favor, soon her anger issues subsided and level-headedness matured, her bluffs strengthened. And while she technically is looking down at Asakusa right now, her friend’s gaze never faltered at looking at her as an equal. Even back then, to now. So if anyone were to ask anything to Kanamori, Asakusa’s their only chance in getting a straight answer.)
“Nothing special. I’m only human, after all.” Kanamori responds, holding her gaze just as properly.
“Then, do you wanna have a small barbecue later?”
“Ehhh? It’s like 6pm.” Kanamori drawls, turning away from Asakusa’s suddenly overwhelming eyes, light dancing softly against it as if the stars were twinkling outside already.
Mizusaki stands up abruptly, ready to dismiss her problem like a fan she passes randomly on the street. “We were asking if you did anything at night, Kanamori-san. 6 is still late afternoon. We’ll do the barbecue at 8 or something.” She pats her half a million yen jacket off from dust, and hurries back to her desk. “Let’s meet here at the club after we go home and head off to do a barbecue.” Packing up quickly, she sets all her animating materials aside and hoists her bag behind her.
Asakusa jumps, her military grade bag already packed and ready, with her matching hat securely worn on her short stature. Kanamori hasn’t moved from her spot yet, watching her two comrades clean up their workstation before turning around to grab her own bag.
That is, if Asakusa didn’t snatch it.
That is, if Kanamori wasn’t 10x stronger than her.
That is, if Asakusa didn’t hang unto the bag.
That is, if Kanamori wasn’t used to throwing Asakusa around in reflex.
“Nyeeeh, ouch.” the gremlin bag-snatching thief groans behind her, insisting an adamant “Let me help!”
(If anyone were to offer help to Kanamori, she would look them dead in the eye, shoulders tense, and grin firmly neutral before giving them a grim “There’s nothing in it for you.”)
Mizusaki watches the two from her desk, carefully training her eye to see the difference between her comrade’s usual grin and the soft one that melted in front of Asakusa.
(If anyone were to watch Kanamori as intently as her, she would spare them a glance and offer for them to take a picture. 500 yen for half her face up to 1 million yen for a full body mugshot.)
Asakusa looks up at her, full of malice. Intent in carrying her bag for her, to help. It’s strange how much she absolutely despises useless actions to justify friendliness. But looking equally at her comrade, Kanamori can’t ignore Asakusa’s eyes dancing in, not just light, but also the undeniable respect she has for her.
(If anyone were to ask Kanamori if she had one weakness, she would look straight ahead with a dark cryptic “Wouldn’t you like to know.”)
A sigh is heard before she drops her iconic shoe-shaped bag in Asakusa’s arms. “I’ll bring lettuce for the barbecue.” She says.
Mizusaki grins, just as softly, before joining Asakusa’s loud “YEY!”
“Let’s hurry to the station, I wanna change first.”
“Mizusaki-san, which restaurant are we going to for the barbecue?”
“Aiya, Kanamori-shi, that’s a secret. Let’s meet at the school and I’ll show you my greatest hangout idea!”
“I wasn’t talking to you, eavesdropping tanuki.”
“Eh? But.. I’m right next to you?”