Chapter Text
“It’s all settled, then?”
Nayeon firmly believes that she looks like a graceful young lady when she smiles. Truth be told, her grin is rather ominous, disfiguring her face by almost splitting it in half. Momo loves Nayeon, though – despite her uncanny facial expressions and the fact that, only a few hours prior, she had tried to poison her by adding cyanide to her coffee, ‘just to see what happens!’ – therefore, she will probably never point that out. Instead, she simply prefers to avoid looking at her in these sorts of instances. As of now, she has her gaze fixed on Mina’s slender, elegant fingers playfully tapping on her knees.
“Of course! It’s a deal!” her girlfriend, who’s just at her side, cheerfully complies. She has a thick Korean accent while speaking Japanese. Momo, for the umpteenth time that evening, finds herself wondering what the hell are they even getting into.
The three young women are isolated in one of the many corners of Myoui Manor’s majestic garden, sitting in front of a service tray overflowing with diverse varieties of tea and pastries. To a stranger’s eyes, they might seem like just a trio of friends hanging out, but in fact, Nayeon has just agreed to become a hired killer. And she had to also get her lover involved, of course.
All that’s left to do is shake hands and seal the deal. Then everything will be over– as of today, at least, Momo tells herself, relieved. But she has failed to consider that Nayeon holds a black belt in being fucking unhinged, and masters the art of being inappropriate in any given setting. Sure enough, her lovely, classy girlfriend has deemed that spitting in her palm before handing it to Mina is the most appropriate thing to do. Momo wishes she could bury herself alive. Or, at least, bury Nayeon.
“Oh, uhm…” the other girl stutters, clearly uncomfortable. “Seriously, it’s okay. There’s no need for such formalities…”
Momo walks through the Manor’s exit head-down, her face still flushed with shame, as her sweetheart skips around like a bunny, completely unfazed. Her demeanor might even be considered normal, at the end of the day: Mina, too, had been discussing the deal in a disarmingly nonchalant way, as if they were having a chat about their newest pair of shoes and not planning a murder. Maybe, the deed will be just as straightforward. And maybe, she should start seeing better people.
Momo and Mina had met years prior, having attended the same middle school. They have never actually been friends, but Momo thought the younger one to be a nice person, with a good head on her shoulders. Clearly, she was wrong. Momo has come to the conclusion that she doesn’t really have an eye for this kind of thing.
Nayeon, on the other hand, came barging into her life while attempting to steal a box of tampons from the conbini where she worked part-time. Now, Momo wouldn’t have given two shits, if only the price of anything stolen wouldn’t have been deducted from her salary. No way in hell that she was giving away four-hundred yen to a stranger. Hence why she had promptly thrown herself to the girl, pinning her to the ground.
“Woah,” the latter gasped. “That's hot. Would you like to go out for dinner with me?”
Momo was chronically homosexual, as well as chronically stupid, therefore she found herself agreeing without even thinking. After all, she wasn’t really in the position to turn down a free meal: her only income came from the aforementioned part-time job at a conbini, for god’s sake.
And then, Momo realized that she was even more chronically homosexual and stupid than she had originally thought, because she had started to actually fall in love with Nayeon. Like, seriously. There was just something about the other that drew her in, and she could do nothing to resist it, like iron with a magnet. Or a mosquito with the electric trap.
It wouldn’t have been so bad, if only the girl wasn’t always getting her involved in shady business, like in this very instance. Even though she had to admit, Nayeon really outdid herself this time.
“Care to explain why are we even doing this?” she huffs, annoyed, as they’re walking together to the older’s place. The Myoui’s personal chauffeur has left them halfway in order to not draw too much attention. “You don’t even care about politics. Fuck, you’re not even an actual hit woman!”
Momo has no idea as to why Mina had thought of her, of all people, for such a thing. Perhaps there’s something in her genetic formation that makes her appear reliable in freaks’ eyes. Who knows. Anyway, one afternoon, right after her shift at the conbini, she received a call from her old acquaintance asking for help with the upcoming elections. Mina’s older sister was one of the candidates for their prefecture.
“Uhm. I have no connections in this field. I’m a cashier” was Momo’s confused answer.
“No, you silly! Not that kind of help!”
They ended up meeting that same afternoon, to properly discuss the situation. Mina wasn’t looking for connections, or for someone to lend her a hand in putting up the campaign posters, or anything of the sort. She wanted somebody who could help her get rid of a certain political opponent. At first, Momo had let out a laugh, thinking that it had been all a weird joke. But that wasn’t the case.
“Well, think about it,” the younger one simply reiterated, concluding their impromptu rendezvous with a serene smile on her face. Her grin was more ordinary looking, compared to Nayeon’s. Her stare, on the other hand, was absolutely terrifying: vitreous and unwavering like one of a porcelain doll.
The next day, Momo reported the entire conversation to her girlfriend, still in disbelief at the absurdity of the whole ordeal. She had expected the other one to laugh with her– Nayeon was batshit crazy, but not that much, right?
…wrong.
“I’m doing it.”
“What the fuck?”
“Think about it, honey!” She had even the audacity to look serious while spitting out nonsense. Nayeon was speaking to her like she was a child, and the older one was trying to convince her to not eat clay. “It could be fun! And they will surely pay a lot of money! We’ll split fifty-fifty!”
And she’s repeating the same thing right now, while Momo’s mentally slapping herself for getting caught up in this madness. She should have been more resilient. Nayeon was the child insisting on eating clay in this situation, dammit.