Work Text:
"Good grief, can't you just take care of yourself for once?"
That chiding tone, embellished with a glimmer of exasperation, is the new norm for both Nagasaki Soyo and Shiina Taki.
There was no reason for Soyo to have pampered her like this in the past, yet somehow, the very air between them has shifted over time. It now settles into this strange, tender equilibrium.
This leaves her with a Taki zoned-out from hours spent wrestling with new compositions, now nuzzling into Soyo’s offered hand. It's oddly reminiscent of a disgruntled wolf cub seeking warmth.
"Haaah?"
At least that remains unchanged.
A bowl of strawberries sits on the counter, shining in the light reflecting off its surface. Soyo picks one up and offers it to Taki.
"Come on now, open your mouth."
The usual Taki, sharp-edged and self-contained, would sooner chew on her own drumsticks than comply with such a gentle command.
But... this Taki, softened by fatigue...
"Ahhh..."
"!"
Velvet-soft lips part and close around Soyo's fingers as Taki takes a generous bite of the tangy-sweet fruit. A sudden, unexpected warmth rushes to Soyo's ears. That fierce gaze—usually so sharply focused and determined—now holds a hazy, dreamy quality, lost somewhere in the haze of exhaustion and the simple taste of fruit.
This docile, unguarded facet of Taki stirs something deep and unfamiliar within Soyo.
No. This can't be. There's no way.
Just what is this situation?!
The words 'Shiina Taki' and 'Docile' hardly seem compatible. It's no secret Taki detests being handled, managed, or fussed over by others. Yet here they are, suspended in the heart of this paradox, Taki pliant under her touch.
"Taki-chan..."
"Mmmnf...?"
Even the cup of black tea on the table has gone cold.
"Are you teasing me?"
Hell no. That’s what Taki would say, but the atmosphere has wrapped her in a thick, dreamy haze.
This feels dangerous.
(Like a stone plummeting into the void, into the darkness it goes...)
Even with these thoughts rushing through her mind, Soyo couldn't quell the warmth spreading from her touch.
"More..."
The slivers of water droplets left behind in the half-empty glass swayed in the melting sunlight. Even the possibility that this might turn into a fever-induced dream when Taki came to her senses didn't deter her.
The charged silence of the situation stretched on, with Soyo's heart hammering like a rabbit being pursued.
Hearing ringing in her ears, Soyo barely registers the faint strawberry juices staining the tips of her fingers.
"...Here."
You've lost this round, Soyo.
"Soyo?" Taki’s voice is softer now, still a bit raspy.
"—Yes, Taki-chan?"
That little sleepy hum resonates between them, leaving a tingly warmth that seems to soak into the very floorboards. Dusk begins its slow descent, painting the room in the perfect, blended hues of a peaceful spring afternoon.
"I want to keep on composing songs. For us... And for Tomori..."
Taki's words emerge as a soft whisper, mirroring the relaxed intimacy enveloping them.
"Yes, yes, I get it already."
"Taki-chan... You've worked hard."
Soyo’s own whisper comes out soft as a feather, attempting to catch the last fading rays of daylight filtering through the window.
No more questions now. She's starting to act less like a cub and more like the wolf Soyo knows—or thought she knew.
"Hey, can't you at least give me a second to appreciate the moment?" Taki grumbles, though her eyes remain closed.
That little frown, endearingly grumpy and unsure, stirs a sudden urge in Soyo to pinch Taki's cheek. She feels herself melting away, drifting from the careful constructs she has clung to for so long.
(A wolf would do what wolves do: bite, munch, chew—maybe like a chew toy?)
Taki's breaths soften, chest rising and falling in her sleep. The sight pulls at something within Soyo, making her heart squeeze with an unnamed ache, a tenderness she can’t quite decipher.
She feels calmer, more resigned, but still less stifling than the thick layering of her personality she usually wears (Tomori had mentioned how the many sides to her were like a beautiful watercolor, never dull or murky), allowing her to be as honest here—and in front of MyGO. It was this tender moment that tugged at her, weaving into the rhythm of her heart.
Soyo is still not used to being honest.
It was not about perfection. It was about being at ease.
CRYCHIC…
...Isn't around anymore. That place is gone.
Yet, this stillness? This delicate, lingering emotion?
It felt real—here and now. The usual banter with Taki had eased into a comforting routine. Something as simple as trading quips with each other had become their calming ritual. And of course, reveling in dishing out playful digs at Anon (all in good fun), to make sure she was keeping up with practice.
(Seeing that characteristic fang dissolve into a drawn-out groan of protest was always worth it.)
Amidst these exchanges, Tomori bloomed. There was a fire in her eyes when they talked, a subtle energy between them that had grown stronger since their days in their previous band.
And Raana—their band's resident stray cat—batted her attention back and forth like a toy mouse, always shifting, yet always there.
But this... this quiet moment with Taki...
She hadn't expected her heart to clench quite like this.
Especially not over an arrogant, sharp-tongued little cub like you...
Soyo leans in and gives Taki a light peck on the lips.
She'll indulge herself. She's going to steal a kiss.
Their first kiss tasted like strawberries, ripe and sweet from the sun. The tartness faded, leaving behind a lingering honeyed sweetness on her tongue.
Judging by the grumble and the half-formed growl, Soyo figures that her self-indulgence must have caused Taki's eyebrows to furrow, breaking her tranquility. If a wolf's charm is in its growl, a cat's charm lies in its whims.
This is completely different from Raana, though. Not the aloofness of a stray cat, but the startled vulnerability of a drowsy wolf cub rudely awakened.
Their lips part and their breathing mingles with the crisp spring air. She can see the exact moment Taki's eyes widen in surprise, panic, embarrassment, and anger—a kaleidoscope of emotions playing out in the sunlight as a string of saliva separates them.
"What was that for?"
"That's..." Soyo offers a saccharine smile, trying to sound a bit more coy. "For starters, let's just call it a bribe?"
Then she plops a large strawberry into the silent Taki's open mouth. Seeing her fuming and on the verge of protest at the overly sweet tone of voice, Soyo decides to revel in teasing her for a few moments longer.
This is how they spend the spring. Watching the sunset slowly sink and stain the sky a shade of strawberry red.
"This..." Taki murmurs after eating the strawberry, staring at Soyo with a fiery, teary-eyed gaze. She pulls Soyo by the collar and claims her lips in a kiss. A strawberry-flavored, syrupy, tart kiss.
(Taki-chan...)
They share their second, passionate kiss in the setting light, surrounded by the messy coffee table and empty plates.
"Taki-chan, I—" A puff of breath tickles Taki's ears.
"You're playing dirty," her partner huffs in response. It's too cute. How could anyone tease her otherwise?
And what they have isn't something perfect.
A phantom pain comes again, tight and constrictive. But something in Soyo's chest settles, a soothing warmth melting away the weight she'd been carrying. The tea she'd just put down had been a comforting, lukewarm temperature against her skin; this moment feels even realer in contrast.
With a hand sliding over to trace Soyo's cheek, Taki mutters, "...How about you properly take care of yourself first before I bite your head off?"
"Now, now, we don't want to shed blood today, do we?" Soyo replies lightly, falling back into the rhythm.
"Hah? And what's that supposed to mean?"
And just like that, they slipped back into their usual banter.
Her fingers intertwine with Taki's in a comfortable, familiar tangle. Soyo bites back the urge to sigh at the odd normalcy, moving their hands to rest lightly between them on the edge of the couch.
Yes, I'm being selfish.
(She can almost picture Taki rolling her eyes like this.)
We're all flawed. We're all vulnerable. And maybe, for tonight, that's enough.
Soyo's gaze meets Taki’s, growing almost as hot as the memory of the afternoon sun, like heated asphalt on a summer roadside.
As their eyes lock, a hazy, almost honey-sweet scent begins to stir, as if sugar itself is being slowly burned by the heat.
"H-Hey, wait a minute—!" Taki starts, flustered.
"—Taki-chan. Again."
Their third kiss comes with the taste of defiance, and the unsaid promises lingering in the air.
It's not about perfection—it never was.
It's about living, breathing, and letting go.
Soyo doesn't want perfection. She doesn't want the perfect "fake."
What she wants, what she longs for, is an imperfect "real."
The kind of real that throbs with a heart of its own, that echoes in a space not bound by the logic of "one" or "two," but somewhere in between.
If there's a perfect word to describe such an in-between, then—
"Mmph... agh... Taki... chan..."
In the background, the muted drone of a news segment from the television hums. It goes unnoticed into the fabric of the lazy, now-fading afternoon.
Melt and burn. Stir and mix. Over and over again. Metal striking against metal. Like flint igniting a spark, or the dull ache of an internal, invisible wound finally lanced open.
Soyo's fingertips trail across Taki's left thigh, almost as if trying to etch a new constellation onto her skin. She maps out stars from a distant galaxy, one so far from the world they live in.
One of those distant, twinkling stars lands on Taki's skin. Soyo traces its trail with her thumb, her mind lost in thoughts of celestial bodies, constellations, and a future not yet defined.
Yet, all that remains...
"Let's go together."
(Oh dear. This really is turning into an "in-between.")
Taki's usual sharp words somehow cut through the swirling fog of desire, grounding Soyo unexpectedly. It isn't a request, but a quiet declaration; resolute and stubborn as a lone wolf's howl under a cold moon.
A sound resonating from an unknown distance, yet intimately close.
"Then..."
Soyo cups Taki's cheeks and pulls her in for another kiss. Their breaths mingled, warm and syrupy against their lips before Taki's voice resounds—
"—Let's fall together."
The melting point between them can only be measured with some special, imaginary, handcrafted thermometer.
Boiling from within, blending their individual scents into something new and shared.
For once, Soyo can't quite read the expression on Taki's face.
Soyo rests her forehead against Taki's, their fingers interlocked, a lazy dance of almost-nights and someday-mornings.
Wolves don't howl alone. And neither do people. And that's how they are—
(—MyGO!!!!!)
A word that represents them, five lost individuals who had stumbled upon their imperfect, but undeniable "us."
Bass and drums always resonate, sometimes in harmony, often in discord.
This afternoon, blurring into evening, they are both the sun to each other, and they have no desire, no intention, of letting go.
Soyo leans in once more into the strawberry-scented kiss. Faintly sweet, the flavor lingers on her tongue. The sun filters through her half-closed eyelids as the sounds of a bustling street corner fade into the background.
Time slips by unnoticed. The scent of fresh strawberries permeates the air.
In a world where rules don't matter.
It didn't matter if the situation between them isn't clear-cut. Soyo wasn't ready to give a name to these feelings. Nor to any of this.
Even if everything around them lies in pieces.
This mess? It's their kind of "normal."
And she had no desire to untangle its threads. Through a haze, their lips met in a clash, not quite a battle, but not entirely a dance. Each contact is a collision, a spark, or perhaps an argument.
No, they're far from okay. But maybe that's the entire point.
Taki's kisses, hot like the sun and still faintly sour from the strawberry residue, taste a bit like the unavoidable bitterness of reality. Yet, even as Soyo feels herself being consumed by the intensity, she still wants to chase this strange, exhilarating, unexplained feeling.
(Reality, bitter as the tiny seeds hidden within a sweet fruit.)
Even the lingering aftertaste can't quite dampen her mood as the world melts into an undecipherable haze.
So here's to being honest. When all you've known are the layers and layers you wear.
Soyo lets herself fall.
Fall, until the phantom sound of a distant wolf's cry seems to ring softly in her ears.
Under the setting sun and the rising moon, they tumbled in and out—back and forth—a duet between two instruments who can't quite read each other's score.
Inked in the ephemeral scent of a stray's forgotten dream. Painted in the colors of a setting sky, and between the spaces in her hands.
The universe and its ever-shifting patterns, the stars in their ever-moving paths.
Sweet, bitter, a little bit messy, but unmistakably real.
"Hey." Taki's voice, low and rough.
"...Yeah?" Soyo whispers back.
"Just this once," Taki breathes, her eyes locking onto Soyo's, "I'll indulge you, alright?"
This mess, this imperfection, was theirs alone.
And they wouldn't have wanted it any other way.
...
...
...
For once, Soyo was going to be just as greedy as she liked.