Work Text:
It doesn’t take much convincing for Shiho to bring Ichika to the closet, which, admittedly, is quite nerve-wracking.
At least a single question about why would have been reassuring. But, no – for some strange reason, when Shiho suggests (fist clenched to curb the anxiety) that they go ‘grab the Windex and do some cleaning’, Ichika blushes deeply, immediately agreeing and taking her hand. Even though the cleaning is already supposed to be done. Even though the bottle of said Windex is empty, goddamnit.
Her mind flashes back to their last practice, the mark visible on Ichika’s neck as they were packing up. It’s gone without a trace now, but that’s enough to give her suspicions that she already understands the meaning of the Windex closet well enough to know what she’s getting into by agreeing. Which does nothing but make her even more nervous, by the way.
Of course, they open it up when they get there, and the empty bottle is still on the floor.
“Wow, Shiho,” Ichika says a little too quickly to be comfortable. “I sure do wonder how that got there.”
That reciprocation of her nerves somehow makes Shiho feel much more at ease. She simply smirks in response, guiding her into the closet. “You suck at lying.’
Then the door is shutting behind them, and it clicks as Shiho locks it, and she can barely see through the dim light bolted into the ceiling but Ichika’s already leaning back against the shelf as if completely expecting what she'll do next.
“You suck at pretending, too,” she grins, moving closer. “Was it Honami who brought you here first?”
“...I swear it wasn’t always this stuffy in here.”
“So that’s a yes.”
Ichika looks to her side, her cheeks burning up as a pair of hands gently wrap around her waist. “Okay, maybe it is.”
The lighting isn’t doing Shiho any favours. Her eyes sparkle as if inviting her to take that final step forward – her lips look so soft and full and fuck, she knows she wants to kiss them but she isn’t sure her heart could take it. The closet seems to be pulling her further into Ichika the longer she stays in there. Was it this cramped last time? Probably not, no, but the SEKAI seems to love throwing curveballs at her and nobody else. Chances are that it changed while she wasn’t paying attention.
Consequently, she feels closer to the girl in front of her than she did with Saki last time she was in here. Much, much closer. In fact, she can already feel her breath dusting over the crook of her neck. It’s almost overwhelming.
…
Then while she’s not exactly paying attention, a certain someone finds the courage to lean in first, practically dragging Shiho along with her.
“Fuck, Ichi—”
She doesn’t get any more time to talk. Ichika’s lips crash into her own, and when she gently tugs on the collar of her shirt in an attempt to switch their positions against the shelves, Shiho simply stops resisting and lets it happen. The guitarist takes that as a sign to deepen the kiss, her hands shifting to the base of Shiho’s neck. Her tongue teases her lower lip ever so slightly. She has no choice but to let her in (not that she’d want this any other way), and then they’re making out in the darkness of the closet like it’s nothing.
She’s good at this. She’s really good at this. Every time Ichika touches her outside of the kiss itself, every time her slightly callused hands glide across Shiho’s skin, she shivers a little from the contact. At some points she even pulls away from her lips and leaves small kisses on her cheeks and under her jaw – she figures Saki must have told her about that weak spot at some point. A quiet whimper escapes her, even with all her efforts to hold back her noise. Ichika hums to herself. She keeps working on her collarbone, not showing any signs of stopping.
And it’s all fun and games until Shiho hears footsteps outside the closet.
“Ichika,” she chokes out through a particularly heavy breath, immediately letting go of the girl’s waist. “Ichika, stop it.”
It turns out the sound of Shiho’s voice is all it takes for her to halt her advances. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s people,” is her whispered reply. She gestures wildly towards the area at the base of her neck where she knows her hoodie won’t cover. After a moment of thought Ichika leans in again, wipes a slight lipstick mark off of the skin with her thumb, and shakes her head.
Great. Now all they can do is wait in here until whoever the hell is outside pisses off.
Ichika is closest to the entrance (obviously, with how she’d just been pinning Shiho against the shelving units) so she presses an ear up to the gap in the frame. It doesn’t take long before she signals for her girlfriend to join her. She rolls her eyes, but nevertheless, before she can think about it she’s squatted on the floor listening in on the conversation under the door.
“I told you that closet is up to something.” It’s Miku, which is made even more obvious by the sound of an instrument cable dragging across the tiled flooring behind her. “It just appeared out of nowhere, and now I’m getting even more weird vibes from it."
There’s a soft laugh. Luka. “Whatever it is, didn’t you say you wanted to practice? We can check it out later. Rin really wants to hear that guitar solo, y’know.”
“Yeah, but…”
The footsteps get closer.
Shiho mouths out a quiet naughty word before making sure the door is locked, forcefully grabbing Ichika by the shoulders, and dragging her as far back into the supply closet as she physically can. Her hand covers the guitarist’s mouth, almost as if kidnapping her or something. Every second is another second Miku gets closer. Amidst the commotion going on in her mind, she suddenly feels her press a gentle kiss to the skin of her palm.
“Not now, you fucking idiot,” she whispers as pointedly as she can. Ichika giggles quietly, doing it again, this time dragging her tongue slowly up the skin as a sort of tease.
That’s when the door’s handle starts rattling.
Their eyes widen; Shiho squints through the dim to see it trying to open, but being stopped by the lock bolted into the wood. Thank God she checked it. It’s scary to think about what would happen if Miku caught her alone in here with one of her girlfriends – Ichika would probably disintegrate out of shame .
Well, she seems happy enough right now.
Evidently the lock isn’t going to be enough, though, because shortly after she lets out that well-deserved sigh of relief, Miku starts kicking the fucking door.
“Open, stupid closet,” she yells, loud enough so that Shiho and Ichika don’t need to be anywhere near the doorframe to hear it. Every bang is accompanied by a half-hearted protest from Luka, choked out through hysterical laughter. It is anything but funny. Shiho cannot help but stare at the lock as the wood of the door itself moves slightly more inwards with every single kick. She cannot help but pray it doesn’t explode.
She shoots an apologetic glance towards Ichika, still in her arms from her desperate effort to get her away from the rapidly approaching Miku. I am so sorry I brought you here.
It’s fine, Ichika mouths in return, somehow upholding a genuine smile on her face. The door bangs again, and something sounds like it falls to the ground. I had fun. And I guess this is karma.
That light comment irks her a little. Shut up. We won’t get caught.
The door swings open.
Starlight floods into the supply closet, and it’s at that moment Shiho notices Ichika isn’t just in her arms. The girl’s knee is positioned directly inbetween her legs, and her head rests just above her shoulder, almost in the exact same position as they were before Miku and Luka arrived outside. Lo and behold, there they are. Miku’s jaw is dropped to the floor. Even Luka, with her usually composed big sister demeanor, seems a little more shaken than she’d usually appear to be.
Shiho groans, throwing her head back against the shelf behind her in embarrassment. This causes Ichika to finally notice something’s up.
I don’t want to turn around, she mouths, not seeming fully convinced that she even needs to be silent in the first place.
“Get it over with,” the bassist says out loud, ignoring the Virtual Singers’ eyes boring into her from over Ichika’s shoulder. “Just… get it over with.”
So she does, and the following scream is so loud it probably signals everyone else currently present in the SEKAI to come stare at them too.
It’s what causes Shiho to come to her senses, too, because shortly after she finds herself prying Ichika’s hands out from around her body and standing as far away from her as she can get without approaching Miku or Luka. They gaze at her in disbelief. Ichika crouches down in the corner next to the empty Windex bottle on the floor and possibly cries, but Shiho can’t see her face well enough to tell.
“Uh… sorry,” Miku suddenly gets out, in an attempt to break the extremely awkward silence. “I am very, very sorry, and feel free to go back to whatever you were doing because I am now going to leave.”
On the other hand, Luka seems to have completely gotten over her initial shock, doing nothing about the situation but shooting the two girls in the closet a knowing smirk (which only makes things worse). “I can’t say I’m surprised. Come on, Miku. Let’s actually go practice now.”
“Yeah. OK. Bye, guys!”
The door is slammed shut again. Hurried footsteps fade further down the corridor until all is silent again.
Then every single possible thing she could do in this situation becomes the most awkward way out.
She can’t talk to Ichika as of right now; the girl’s a mess . Her head is still buried in her hands, and the closer Shiho gets, the more apparent the almost silent scream still escaping her lips becomes. There’s no blaming her. Miku is her idol, even more than the rest of the band combined. Of course, she’s not the type to judge over trivial things like this, but it’s going to be hard to get that into her girlfriend’s head while she’s in this state.
The other choice is to leave the closet by herself. Miku and Luka are gone, presumably, so it shouldn’t be a problem. But can she really leave Ichika in here alone?
Of course, the answer is no.
“We’re leaving,” she utters, walking slowly over to Ichika’s side and offering out her hand. Without turning around, she reaches backwards and takes it.
Her voice is quiet, muffled by the sleeve of her jacket. “That’s a really good idea.”
She said words. No way. “Come on, then.”
And surprisingly, Ichika stands up pretty quickly, practically dragging Shiho out of the closet along with her as fast as she can. It takes her eyes a little while to adjust to the sudden change in brightness, but once she stops squinting she’s greeted by the familiar starlit glow of the SEKAI. This time, not pressed up uncomfortably against a storage unit.
A smile breaks out. She can’t help it.
Light guitar riffs can be heard down the hallway, with the familiar punchy tones of a precision bass backing them up.
Ichika coughs, letting go of Shiho’s hand and starting to walk away. Her final words echo down the corridor, only just loud enough for her to hear over the Virtual Singer’s music in the next classroom. “Let’s stay away from here for a while.”
“Yeah, maybe we should,” she laughs back in return.
With that, Shiho pauses Untitled on her smartphone, and assuming by the flashes of multicolored light coming from the other end of the corridor, they’ve both made their own seperate escapes.
It took them long enough.