Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"I've decided," Kaoruko declares when she stands up, brushing her hair back into place with her fingers.

Futaba passes her the hair dryer and sits in the spot she just vacated. This distracts Kaoruko from her declaration quite effectively, because it will not do. “Futaba-han,” she says haltingly, “are you expecting me to dry your hair with this?”

“Yes,” Futaba says, side-eyeing her. “We talked about this. Did you forget? Were you asleep?”

“We talked about me doing things for you. We did not talk about your bad decisions.” She’s really perturbed now.

“Hah?”

“Your hair is delicate, Futaba-han! It’s short! You want dandruff and split ends? Is that it?”

“ You blow dry,” Futaba attempts.

“It’s different,” comes the response. Kaoruko emerges from the linen cupboard with a spare towel and begins tousling her girlfriend’s hair.

“As I was saying,”  she says, “I’ve decided.”

“Decided what?”

“Decided that we’re going to seduce the others into my harem.” She hums, self-satisfied.

“Your harem?” Futaba says, and then, once her brain catches up to the rest of the sentence: “Wait, what are you talking about?”

“Polyamory, Futaba-han,” Kaoruko says. “It’s the only lifestyle truly befitting a Top Star of my elegance and beauty, you know.”

“Yeah,” Futaba says. “Well, no, that’s crap logic. But are you saying we weren’t doing that already? What about Banana?”

“Wh– Banana was a one-off thing, and also a failed endeavour,” Kaoruko tells her. “Are you saying you’ve been seducing people this whole time?”

“No,” Futaba says, too quickly.

“Oh my God, is that what happened with Claudine? You really were–”

“Shut up,” Futaba hisses, flinging a hand over her girlfriend’s mouth. Kaoruko makes indignant, scandalised noises. “Are you going to make this into a big deal?”

Kaoruko shakes her head, because she is a liar. 

“Ughhh,” Futaba says. “Literally nothing happened. We nearly kissed once and she was all ‘Oh, I like someone, are you sure you’re not just interested because you’re fighting with Hanayagi-san’ and that wasn’t exactly wrong so– ergh!” She jerks her hand away to wipe saliva off it.

"Traitor," Kaoruko says, with mostly-mock outrage. "Then you're in?"

**

We could try Banana again," Kaoruko says. "You know what she's like, she'd be pretty helpful at recruiting the others." She's not even pretending to study; just leaning back in her desk chair, waving newly-painted nails in the air to dry them.

“What are you on about,” Futaba responds, not even a question at this point. She’s stretching for a jog.

“Girlfriends, Futaba! I need more girlfriends!”

“Don’t see why,” Futaba mutters, a little sullenly.

“Don’t you get tired of me? They’d be yours too, you know."

"To be honest," Futaba says, "I think maybe we'd have more luck with Hoshimi than Banana."

"Please."

"Not even joking, Nana's weird."

"Fine,” Kaoruko says. “Then you can try her, and I’ll do Banana-han, and we’ll see who wins.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

**

This is going to be easy-peasy, Kaoruko thinks.

“Baaaanana-hannnnnnn,” she drawls very adorably.

“Hmm?” says Banana, more focused on her muffin batter than the beautiful maiden attempting to romance her. “Oh, do you mind moving off the counter? I need to grate lemon rind and there’s not enough space for the chopping board here.”

Kaoruko slides very sexily down to one of the stools by the breakfast bar. “Banana-han, do you wanna come to the Antique Rose Teahouse this weekend?”

“Oh? Isn’t that the really romantic-themed café with all the couples and Valentiney menu items and frilled tablecloths?” Banana clarifies, having just enough metanarrative awareness to provide exposition when necessary.

“Yeah, that’s it,” says Kaoruko.

“Did you have a reservation and now Futaba-chan can’t come, or something?”

“No,” Kaoruko says. “She’d be there, too.”

“Huh?”

“All of us!”

“All… three of us?”

Kaoruko pauses to consider this. “Well, it depends.”

“On what?”

“Lots of things,” Kaoruko says. Or rather, lots of people. 

“You mean, Futaba might not come? Or you won’t?”

Kaoruko sighs (delicately). Banana is not supposed to be this dense. “Other people might come.”

“Like who?”

“Hoshimi-han, for one.” This is it. The bait.

“You mean, like… a double date?” Nana’s blushing now. Hook.

“Something like that,” Kaoruko purrs. Line.

Nana gives a flustered smile.

“Look, I don’t… know if that’s the best idea.”

… Sinker???

**

“Hey, Hoshimi-san!”

Junna stops to take the water bottle Futaba’s holding out. She crouches down and opens it, panting.

“Thank you.”

“You work hard, huh?”

“Well… I guess so. I don’t want to fall behind.” She looks up. Futaba’s perched on the wall by the gate out front of Starlight Hall. Junna stretches her legs a couple times, then comes up to join her.

“I hear that,” Futaba says wryly. There’s a towel around her own neck, and her hair is plastered down with sweat. It seems they share some similar hobbies.

That’s right. Futaba, dead last in the entrance exams. The Revue of Perseverance they shared. She’s not alone in how she feels.

“Still, you know. Even when it seems like we’re the bottom… it’s an achievement even to be here. This school can make you forget, but there are hundreds of people we’ve already surpassed.”

“I know,” Futaba says. “That doesn’t help much, in the end.”

Junna remembers standing with Nana at the start of the school year, in the locker room at the end of the day. Sliding name-plates out of the doors. Throwing them away.

She tilts her head up, to the sky. It looks like rain, covered in thick clouds.

She can’t see the stars.

“Do you want to–” she says, just as Futaba begins speaking.

“I wanted to–”

“Sorry. You go.”

It seems whatever Futaba was going to say has fled her, as she momentarily closes her mouth. Then–

“You know… Kaoruko was wondering something.”
Eh??

“Why doesn’t she ask me herself?”

“Please. She’d never.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s shyer than you think, you know?”

Junna is suddenly filled with an ominous foreboding.

With trepidation: “What is it?”

“She’s got a bit of a crush.”

EH???????

“Um…” On you, yeah, she doesn’t say. Because if Futaba doesn’t know this, then there’s one hell of a misunderstanding going on, and she’s not going to out Hanayagi’s feelings like that.

“Well… more like a lot of a crush. Or… a lot of crush es.”

“What do you mean?”

“She really wants to date more people.”

“Oh,” Junna says, cottoning on. “I’m sorry.”

“What– no! We both want to!”

“Well, I know that it can be hard. Even when a breakup is mutual, it still–”

“We’re not breaking up!”

“Huh? Then–”

Futaba grimaces, then sets her jaw.

“I can’t exactly put it how she did, because you’d definitely get the wrong idea based on the strange way she talks sometimes…”

Oh, so KAORUKO talks strangely???

“Isurugi-san. Please try to be clear… and brief.”

“Eh?!” Futaba exclaims indignantly. “That’s not what you should say when someone is confessing!”

What.

“Are you… confessing?”

This does not appear to be going how Futaba hoped it would.

“Well… sort of. What I mean is… I really admire your determination and your talent.” Talent?! Is this some sort of bottled speech? How can it apply to…

“The way you’re able to push yourself forwards without looking to the sides, always focused on the road. Like a motorbike, weaving between cars to get somewhere new… you’re really unique.”

“Isurugi-san, I…”

“We… Kaoruko and I, we wanted to… WAIT!”

“Huh?”

“I forgot to say… it’s not just you. That is… like, for example, Claudine… uh… Hey!” She grabs Junna’s face and leans in. Junna jerks away.

“Hey! I’m not going to kiss you, you know!”

“You’re the one who called it a confession!” Is this anticipation? Excitement? Embarrassment, fear, anger, shame, joy?

“I mean… But suddenly like that! Definitely not! Look…” She puts her hands on Junna’s shoulders and brings them to eye level. “I know about your crush.”

Junna, who had just managed to stop sweating from her run, begins sweating again.

“Oh,” she says, “Which one would that be?”

Futaba smiles an evil smile. “Make that… which four.”

Junna’s eyes go wide.

“Hear me out,” Futaba says.

Paralysed, Junna nods.

*

Kaoruko sputters.

“What?!?!”

How can Nana not want to go on a date with someone as gorgeous and sophisticated as Kaoruko?! To say nothing of two handsome, hardworking, courageous, passionate, handsome, dedicated, strong, handsome…

“...to change anything in our relationship at the moment,” Nana is saying. “So… look, I hope you haven’t asked Junna-chan yet. I don’t want to let her down, either…”

She pats Kaoruko on the shoulder sympathetically and leaves the room. Kaoruko stares, dumbfounded, at the warm tray of muffins left in Nana’s wake. She can’t even bring herself to eat one.

Chapter Text

“What if I told you… you could date all of them?”

Junna turns about as red as a tomato and blinks owlishly.

“Not just that, but me and Kaoruko, Hikari, Mahiru…”

“W-what are you saying?!”

“We’re going to get everyone together.”

“E-everyone?!”

“Everyone.”

Junna’s eyes give the impression of a kind of shuddering and whirring, like gears in a vast machine are turning behind them.

***

“FUTABA-HANNNNNNNNNN,” Kaoruko wails as soon as Futaba opens the door. Futaba rolls her eyes, and opens it wider to reveal her compatriot.

“Hoshimi is going to be joining us on Saturday,” Futaba says. Kaoruko looks, if possible, even more bereaved.

“I can leave,” Junna says with horror in her voice. Is Hanayagi not on board with this????

“HOSHIMI-HANNNNNNN,” Kaoruko cries. “DON’T LEAVE MEEEEE.”

“Uh,” Junna says. Futaba ushers her into their room, and closes the door behind them. “Okay?”

Futaba grabs Kaoruko’s face and scrutinises it. Seemingly satisfied, she pulls back and says, “Ah, stop whinging, you big baby.”

Upon closer inspection, Kaoruko’s eyes appear quite dry. She pouts upside-down at them from her place on her bed.

“I told you this would happen,” Futaba tells her remorselessly, burying her head in the wardrobe.

“Um, what would happen?” Junna asks, still standing in the doorway.

“That she wouldn’t be able to convince Nana off the bat.”

“She’s vicious!”

“Me, or Nana?”

“Both of you.” Kaoruko rolls over and reaches towards Junna, grabbing her hand to pull her closer. “We need to band together. They’re unspeakably mean. How can we live like this?”

“Um,” says Junna.

“Did she say something like, ‘Oh I’m terribly sorry to hurt your feelings like this, and you’re a really precious friend to me, but I just don’t see you that way?’” Futaba asks.

“WORSE,” Kaoruko moans.

“Go on, then.”

“She doesn’t even want to date any of us! I can’t work like this!”

“Well, that’s patently untrue.”

“It is not! I told her I’d be there, and you, and Junna! She said it was a bad idea! I don’t have any bad ideas!”

Junna’s heart does that same little flip she has become painfully familiar with over the past year or so.

Is this a bad idea?

“Ka-o-ru-ko!” Futaba finally emerges from the closet in her pyjamas, those adorable matching ones identical to Kaoruko’s. “Stop being dramatic. You’re going to scare off Hoshimi.”

This is true.

“How could she not want to date us? She hates me! She’s evil! She’s the villain!”

“She is absolutely not,” Futaba says. “She is the endgame boss.”

“A villain!”

“No,” Futaba repeats. “She’s just going to be harder to convince. A final-act heel-turn.”

“She doesn’t like things to change,” Junna says. “But she also does, she really does. She… she’s just…”

Scared.

“Hmph,” Kaoruko sniffs.

“Ignore her,” Futaba says, and continues over Kaoruko’s indignant reaction: “She’s just not used to the idea that anyone would pass up the chance to be with her.”

“She won’t want to be a part of this unless it’s stable,” Junna says. “Have you two been making notes? Strategising properly, methodically?”

“Er,” Futaba waffles. “…Yes?”

Junna sniffs. “I’ll start drawing up some possible approaches by Saturday. We can discuss then.” Kaoruko’s eyes go wide like a kid on Christmas. Junna smiles down at her, pushes up her glasses, and adds: “It’s a date.”

***

For the entire rest of the week (now, being tomorrow, is Wednesday) Junna keeps meeting her co-conspirators’ eyes. A funny, all-too-familiar feeling keeps coming over her, like a warm shower, from the head and shoulders down. She feels jumpy. Nana notices, in her own Nana way: drinks more tea than usual for the excuse to make Junna a cup, smiles at her across the gap between their desks. Hikari also notices, she thinks, because she’s giving Junna strange looks when they do scene work together Friday afternoon. Then again, maybe she’s projecting.

She doesn’t want to ask Nana what she should wear. She doesn’t want to get Nana involved at all, really, until the time is right. She tries not to be too obvious about her indecision. Nana, of course, sits on the end of her bed, legs crossed, watching.

“I like your dark blue top,” she says, startling Junna out of her concentration. “The soft one.”

Junna looks back at her. She wore that top on a date-that-wasn’t-a-date two months ago, and hasn’t since. She likes it, but she’s almost always in either uniform or practice clothes or pyjamas. Nana has a picture of her wearing it on the wall above the desk, which doesn’t mean much. Most of Junna’s wardrobe is commemorated in Nana’s shrine-to-the-99th-class.

She’s right, though. It’s a good top. And the weather is nice enough for the short sleeves and knee-length skirt she usually pairs it with.

“Can I borrow your gold pendant?” she says, without thinking, visualising it all together. Nana’s eyes shine.

“Of course,” she says. “Don’t forget your good-luck frames.”

“I’ll need them,” Junna agrees.

“No,” says Nana. “You won’t.”

Her smile doesn’t dim. Junna has never met someone with such bimodal facial expressions. It’s like her muscles just pick one, joyous or distraught, and don’t switch between them unless you’re not looking, not even a transitive state to be seen. She really does look happy, right to her eyes.

Junna still doesn’t know if the sureness she used to feel about being able to read Nana was justified. If the second-guessing and the understanding actually makes her worse at it than before she knew.

“Thanks,” she says, once Nana finishes fastening the necklace behind her neck. “I’ll see you this afternoon.” 

“Have fun!”

***

The others are already waiting outside by Futaba’s bike. Kaoruko is wearing a helmet, twirling the keys; Futaba holds out the second helmet. Junna hesitates.

“We — we’re taking your bike?”

“Don’t have to if you’re worried.”

“Yes, we do,” Kaoruko says. “I need to practice.”

“It’s not Hoshimi’s fault you don’t wake up early enough to drive us to classes!”

“It’s yours! Having me out running combinations till all hours of the night!”

“You’ll never improve your time-step without practice!”

“I’ll never get better at riding without practice, either!”

“Ah, it’s okay,” Junna says. “You’ll… go slowly, right?”

“ Yes. She will,” Futaba answers, more directed at Kaoruko than her.

“Hm. It’s not like Futaba-han could keep up with us otherwise.”

***

Despite her bravado, Kaoruko is crawling along at a snail’s pace, her hands trembling.

“You can go faster than that, you know. Five or ten kilometers an hour would be perfectly safe,” Futaba tells her, jogging in her fourth backwards circle around the bike.

“How inconsiderate! For Hoshimi-han’s first ride, her comfort is of the utmost importance!”

“Ah, it’s fine,” Junna says. “I think we could go… a little faster?” A cyclist on a pushbike overtakes them, ringing her bell several times in frustration.

“Ka-o-ru-ko! You need to indicate when you turn!”

“You’re distracting me, running in circles! Do you want me to hit you?!”

“Or not,” Junna amends. “Ah… It’s true. I’m very nervous.”

“Ah, Kaoruko will keep us safe,” Futaba says, smiling. She moves back to the footpath and dances along beside them to keep pace, a new jazz combination from last week.

It’s forty minutes before they reach the café.

***

“Karen is a clear starter,” Junna says. “Kagura-san and Tsuyuzaki-san would need to be onboarded around the same time, but they’ll be happy if she is, I think.”

Futaba bats Kaoruko’s hand away from Junna’s chocolate sponge. “Ask! Were you raised by wolves?!” 

Kaoruko pouts at her.

“Hanayagi-san,” Junna says. “Could I try one of your botamochi? I’ll trade you.” Futaba shoots her a weary smile. Kaoruko retreats from Junna’s plate with her prize, and pushes her own towards Junna in return.

Futaba takes another swallow of her coffee and sighs. It sounds, to Junna’s untrained ear, contented. She leans back in her chair and fiddles with the cup. “Tsuyuzaki’s a bit… flappable, at times.”

“She’s very gay, though,” Kaoruko murmurs. “We could ambush her in the bath.” Junna flushes, and Futaba seems to be on her side.

“Kaoruko!”

“What? It’s only an idea!”

Junna snorts. “Tendō-san?”

“Too unapproachable,” Futaba says, rolling her eyes. “And Kuro’s too single-minded.”

“Tendō-han? Unapproachable? ”

Junna and Futaba stare across the small table.

“Yes,” Futaba says. “Have you met her? I thought you were on the same page with me on these two!”

“She’s lovely,” Kaoruko says, almost defensive, pulling her last botamochi apart with her teaspoon and cake fork. “Very kind. She’d certainly be amenable, she just wants friends.”

“She has friends,” Junna points out. “We’re all her friends.”

“ Proper friends,” Kaoruko emphasizes, which makes both more sense and also absolutely no sense, because Maya is definitely proper friends with at least half a dozen people in their class. Thoughtfully, Kaoruko adds, “And girlfriends.”

“Oh,” says Junna, because that seems like the safest option.

“Uh. Okay,” Futaba says. “Then should we go for Karen, and you for Tendō?”

Kaoruko stabs at a piece of botamochi and shoves it sulkily into her mouth. Junna thinks about her tantrum after Nana’s rejection.

“Or,” she suggests, “We could wingman?”