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Sayaka is working at her desk when the buzzer goes off. Before she can say anything—or even consider answering it—there are footsteps from down the hall, and Makoto’s voice calls, “I’ve got it!”
He’s not a very quiet person. There’s a telling thump and an Ow! which Sayaka assumes are from him moving too quickly and bumping into the wall, and then the sound of the deadbolt unlocking and the door swinging open. He opened it so fast, Sayaka doubts he checked to see if he even recognises the person on the other side, but it’s fine. Sayaka was already expecting company, and the dorms have so many cameras it’s doubtful that someone would try something in the middle of the day like this. She’ll just have to talk to Makoto about being safe later.
“Oh!” Makoto’s surprised but cheerful tone rings through the apartment. “Kirigiri-san! Are you here to see Sayaka?”
Geez. He’s so blunt about it. Sayaka’s face flushes, and she takes a moment to compose herself as she listens to Kyoko’s contralto giving a reply. Kyoko is much more soft-spoken than Makoto is, and thus, Sayaka can’t make out what exactly she’s saying, but it must be some kind of confirmation, because followed by her response there’s shuffling and then the door closing and locking with a click.
“Sayaka, Kirigiri-san is—”
“Send her to my room!” Sayaka calls. She giggles at the exasperated noise Makoto lets out in reply. She wouldn’t usually interrupt him, not on purpose, anyway, but he’s too fun to rile with all that psychic business. She can’t help herself.
As Sayaka listens to Kyoko approaching, her footsteps as measured and light as ever, she pushes out her chair and closes her algebra textbook, sighing and removing her reading glasses. What a drag, seriously. All her University classes are important, not just the performance-based ones, and Sayaka understands that—but a part of her is frustrated that she still has to take core classes that aren’t even related to her major. Why does she need to know quadratics in order to perform on stage? So frustrating. Sayaka’s not the type to shy away from a challenge, but still, when her bedroom door opens, it’s with a relieved smile that Sayaka turns around.
Kyoko’s eyebrows are raised skeptically when they make eye contact. Sayaka lifts two fingers to salute. “Good afternoon! You’re just the distraction I was waiting for. I put off this assignment and now I’m really suffering for it.”
A smirk plays at Kyoko’s lips as she closes the door behind her. “I can tell.”
“Well, aren’t you pleasant?” Sayaka huffs, but when Kyoko approaches, socked feet padding against the carpet, Sayaka still lifts her arms and loops them around the other woman’s waist, tilting her head back and opening her mouth to receive the kiss.
Kyoko’s lips are soft as ever, moving languidly against Sayaka’s own. She tastes bitter like coffee and a little bit of creamer, and the leather of her gloved hands as they rest against Sayaka’s cheeks is cool. It’s so much sensation all at once that Sayaka has to pull back before long, gazing breathlessly into Kyoko’s pale eyes, but if Kyoko is bothered by the loss of contact, it doesn’t show on her face. Barely anything shows on her face, in fact, save for the slightest of flushes that has begun to creep down to her neck.
Unable to stop herself, Sayaka reaches up and touches Kyoko’s reddened cheek, as though she could feel the heat radiating through her skin. She can’t. It’s not dark enough of a flush for that. Still, Sayaka pretends, fingertips stroking lightly against Kyoko’s face.
“Good afternoon,” Sayaka greets softly.
One of Kyoko’s eyebrows raises. “You already said that.”
“Did I?” She did. Sayaka moulds her palm against Kyoko’s cheek. “Sorry for the repetition, then. I know you hate to be understimulated.” Sayaka punctuates the statement with a giggle, then laughs again, more genuinely, at the annoyed look she’s rewarded with. Kyoko pulls away and begins the process of shedding her jacket, unbuttoning it and dropping it onto the bed, then sits along with it, hands clasping atop her skirt. Sayaka supposes she’s meant to follow, but she doesn’t rise yet, opting instead to rest her elbow against the armrest on her chair and tilting her head to the side, studying Kyoko’s face.
She really is a sight for sore eyes. Her eyelashes are long and thick and her features are delicate and striking like she was chiseled out of marble. Sayaka could probably stare at her for hours on end and come away satisfied. While Kyoko waits for her, seemingly content, she fiddles with the solitary braid that frames her face. The dark ribbon tying it off swishes back and forth with every movement. Sayaka tracks it with her eyes, absorbs the silence, and then looks back up at Kyoko’s face.
“Makoto thinks we’re dating, you know.”
“Does he?” Kyoko doesn’t seem either particularly bothered nor surprised by this fact. “I guess he would. Naegi-kun is the type to make assumptions like that.” She laces her fingers together and stretches her arms over her head, eyes fluttering closed with a yawn. It’s a cute, intimate gesture, one that Sayaka rarely sees from her, but she tries not to let herself get distracted by it.
“Yeah,” Sayaka agrees. “Yeah. So… we’re not dating, then.”
Again, Kyoko gives Sayaka a skeptical look. “Have we gone on dates?”
The answer is no, they haven’t. They’ve never seen each other outside of one of their apartments. Even meeting up like this in the daytime is rare for them, only something they started doing recently. Not that Sayaka is complaining about that—nor does she want to act like she doesn’t understand the reason for their discretion, but still…
“I guess not.” It’s not as much of a grey area as Sayaka is acting like; she’s aware of this. Were she to try and justify her hesitation to Kyoko aloud, she’s not sure she’d be capable of it. Still, while Kyoko’s gaze is inquisitive, it’s not judgemental. Sayaka senses that she can continue. “But… if we’re not dating… I mean, you could hardly call me a friend, right?” Sayaka giggles, more to fill space than out of any genuine amusement. “So what are we?”
“Are you asking for a label?” Kyoko asks. Her tone is as blunt and no-nonsense as ever, which, from anyone else, would read to Sayaka as a red flag. She’s had casual entanglements in the past, though admittedly none she enjoyed—not in the way she enjoys being with Kyoko—and had she asked anyone else to clarify the nature of their relationship, they would have gotten… dodgy, if not outright hostile. Sayaka would assume, from anyone else, that a question like that means they’re about to leave.
Not Kyoko, though. Kyoko doesn’t move to stand, doesn’t even reach for her jacket. She merely cups her chin and looks thoughtful, as though mulling it over herself.
“When we first started seeing each other, you said we couldn’t date,” Kyoko starts, “at least, not publicly. I told you I wasn’t looking for that kind of relationship, anyway.”
“And then we stopped talking about it,” Sayaka finishes. She lets out a breath. “I know. I know I’m probably sending you mixed signals, it’s just… sometimes I’ll mention your name and Makoto will give me this knowing look, and it should make me uncomfortable, but…”
But it doesn’t. The implication of dating Kyoko as well as seeing her, the implication of being exclusive with her, the implication of loving her—none of that makes Sayaka feel uncomfortable as it would have in the past. And that should be scary, in the way that all relationships, even platonic ones, are scary now—but it isn’t. Nothing about Kyoko is scary, even the borderline intense look in her eyes as she waits for Sayaka to give a conclusion that’s never going to come.
As much as that’s true, and as much as Sayaka trusts Kyoko and knows she’d never hurt her, saying how she feels is still… uncomfortably vulnerable. It’s a topic she can’t broach, a distance she can’t cross. The idea of admitting how she feels, of saying that something more than this… this relationship that they have might be appealing to her, it’s terrifying. Sayaka doesn’t think she can manage it.
Luckily, Kyoko must pick up on that, because she speaks. “Well, it doesn’t make me uncomfortable either.” Her hands move up to her neck as she speaks, loosening her necktie and undoing the top buttons on her blouse. “I know I told you I wasn’t looking for something exclusive before. I meant it. I don’t think I would mean it now.” Some of that earlier colour returns to Kyoko’s face, her cheeks, and she looks away. “I don’t want to rush you into anything, Sayaka. If what we have is working, then it’s working. Just because you’d be okay with something else doesn’t mean you want it.” Her eyes dart back to Sayaka’s face. “It can be an ongoing discussion.”
Kyoko has never been the best communicator. It had been something that Sayaka had been aware of going into this arrangement—that she’d had to be cognizant of, because she herself isn’t always the best communicator either, and she doesn’t want things to go poorly between them just because neither of them could use their words. So for Kyoko to say all of that so articulately, to express that she’s willing to wait—to express that she might be on the same page as Sayaka is…
An overwhelming rush of warmth hits Sayaka and she stands, pushes away her chair, and crosses her room in two large steps. She takes Kyoko by the face and kisses her, then kisses her again, eyes screwing shut. Kyoko’s hands come up to her waist, but flutter uncertainly, likely out of surprise.
When Sayaka pulls back, she can’t help a smile. Now Kyoko is flushed enough that her cheeks are hot to the touch, eyes wide and transparent, just for a fraction of a second. She always looks so beautiful when she lets down her walls enough to emote.
“Thank you,” Sayaka says. “For always being so patient with me. And… and for all of this.” She lets out a breath and rests her forehead against Kyoko’s. “I think… I want to date you. Obviously we’d have to keep it a secret, but… I really do think I want that. And you. If you’ll have me.”
They’re so close together it’s hard to read Kyoko’s face, but it doesn’t matter. Sayaka can feel the way her hands rest on Sayaka’s lower close, drawing her in closer, and she can feel the way Kyoko shifts against her, head tilting so their noses brush, eyes closing halfway. They’re swapping breaths, their eyelashes tangling each time one of them blinks.
Kyoko smiles.
“I’ll have you,” she says. Her voice is low and soft, gentle, eyes adoring. “All of you.” Her smile shifts into a smirk, one side of her lip quirking upwards. “But I didn’t just come here to talk.”
A laugh bubbles out of Sayaka. She moves closer, backing Kyoko into the wall by her bed, one of her knees coming up onto the mattress, and leans in for another kiss. The moment before their lips meet, she breathes, “I always love it when you get impatient,” and then she closes her eyes for the second time and allows herself to get lost in Kyoko, her lips, her touch, her love.
Everything else can come after.