Work Text:
“Crisis mode!” That’s what Yoshiko called it, as she burst into Riko’s room. The redhead looked up from her book, with, to her credit, a sincere initial concern for her friend, but a concern that quickly devolved into an eye roll and sigh as Yoshiko delved into a long-winded plea, asking for help preparing for her upcoming date.
“Please, Lily, you’re the only one I know that can do actual makeup, and I also need help with my hair, and I’m also gonna need to borrow an outfit…” Yoshiko sheepishly twirled her hair, as if playing cute was somehow going to make Riko more inclined to help her out. It worked of course, but it’s not like Riko had planned on slamming the door in her face.
The older girl motioned towards the vanity for Yoshiko to sit, which she did, appreciatively, kicking her feet in anticipation. Riko scoured through her closet, holding up a couple options with Yoshiko as her backdrop, haphazardly throwing the clothes in separate piles for consideration. It’s not like this was their first rodeo. Yoshiko had been on a couple disaster dates already, ones in which she’d done her own makeup, picked her own outfits. But, to the delight of Riko’s ego, the first time she helped Yoshiko get ready for a first date was also the first time she ended up scoring a second date.
It started out kinda, well…fun. Riko had put a lot of effort into learning makeup and fashion, with not a lot of opportunity to gab about it with friends. She’d wished Yoshiko would absorb something from these sessions, but at the end of the day, despite her outward apathetic demeanor, Riko found she actually enjoyed spending time like this with Yoshiko.
But somewhere along the way it started to become…uncomfortable? Like, physically. There was something about Yoshiko getting all dolled up, showing excitement and confidence and bravado that made Riko’s throat dry and butterflies flit about in her stomach. And not to mention the proximity—half of the time Riko had to be within forehead butting distance of Yoshiko to properly apply her makeup. It was hard enough focusing on the makeup and steadying her hands, let alone trying not to be a total mouth breather in Yoshiko’s face.
They started with the eyes: eyeshadow, liner, mascara. Yoshiko hummed softly with her lids gently shut, as Riko recoiled in disgust at how cute one could be in such a mundane moment.
Sure, Yoshiko had always been cute, even in her usual disarray—Riko hadn’t had any problem with admitting that in the past. But along the way, something changed—was it Yoshiko, or was it herself? It was more than just the makeup, the clothes. Suddenly, Riko was doing a lot of mental gymnastics just to avoid admitting that Yoshiko was cute, or pretty, or…exactly her type.
Riko clapped her hands to her mouth, afraid of what sudden utterances might escape. Thankfully, Yoshiko’s eyes were still closed, the younger girl blissfully unaware of her makeup artist battling her inner demons.
“A-Alright, lips next,” Riko managed to squeak out. “Give me a pout.”
Yoshiko squeezed her eyes shut even tighter, puffing out her lips exaggeratedly.
S-Stupid Yoshiko. It’s not like she had to close her eyes for this part. Riko lined Yoshiko’s lips with a pencil liner first, before going in with the lipstick. It was taking a lot of effort to not just lean in and plant a kiss on those lips and—
The redhead withdrew her hand suddenly, exaggeratedly, as if to break away from such intrusive thoughts.
“Hm, done already?” Yoshiko peeked one eye open, seeing the redhead nod her head meekly. She popped up out of the chair, disappearing into the bathroom to put on her outfit, ignorant to the older girl banging her head against the wall.
“…S-So? Who’s this girl you’re going out with?” Riko needed something, anything, to diffuse this one-sided tension.
“Oh, you know. Been talking to her for awhile, really cute, bit older, mature, got a dry sense of humor,” Yoshiko’s voice echoed from the bathroom. “She gets flustered pretty easily, but I like that about her.”
Riko wasn’t sure why she asked. Not only did she not care, but at the same time, she cared too much; humanizing these suitors just made her more sad and jealous. Especially since this new girl sounded so similar to herself—it could’ve easily been her instead.
As Yoshiko emerged from the bathroom, affixing her last earring, Riko felt a pit grow in her stomach. As time seemed to slow to a crawl, this overwhelming fear was building up. One of these days, Yoshiko would walk out that door for the last time, only to find her soulmate, never to return. And the next thing you know, Riko would be doing the makeup at their wedding. Ugh, all Riko wanted was to reach out her arm, take Yoshiko’s hand in her own, tell her not to go. But she couldn’t do that to her, she couldn’t possibly be so selfish as to—
“—Well? Aren’t you coming, Lily?”
“…Eh?”
Yoshiko smiled, that devilish, mischievous smile. “Surely, you didn’t forget? Obviously, you’re my date today, birthday girl!”