Work Text:
Concert nights always went long. Longer than the concert itself by far. Once the show was over, there would be a lot of clean up. And while Ave Mujica wouldn’t have to clean things themselves, they couldn’t leave until at least some of it was done. Props, instruments, or the like needed to be collected. There were simple tediums to deal with as well. And then there was changing out of their uniforms and into street clothes. All in all, it took hours. For an afternoon show, they would be there until evening, maybe even midnight. But for a night show? They might see the sunrise.
So the sun was rising outside and everyone was tired. The worst part was that they couldn’t sleep until they got back home.
At least Nyamu, with her drum set, didn’t have anything to carry back. Mutsumi insisted on bringing her guitar everywhere, and so, as tired as she was, Mortis had to haul it while she was on the verge of passing out.
They waited outside the stadium, on the sidewalk. They each had ordered a taxi home, so now it was a matter of waiting until that arrived. It would have been nice if there was a bench around or anything, but the closest bench was far enough that the drivers might not see them. It was still only dawn, after all. Still dark enough to miss.
“We played pretty good tonight, didn’t we?” Mortis started, with a grin. “I’m quite happy with us.”
“I know you’re not including me in that ‘we.’”
“No, of course not.” Mortis grinned. “Mutsumi and I, of course. You can’t keep up.”
“As if.” Nyamu turned to Mortis. “I’m better than you and you know it.” She took a step forward. It was unfortunate that they were standing in an empty plaza. She would have much preferred to have a wall behind Mortis to slam her hand against.
She made do. Instead of slamming her hand against a wall, she wrapped an arm around Mortis’s waist and pulled her close. Mortis let herself be pulled. Of course, even if she had tried to fight it, Nyamu probably would have been able to win that confrontation. Physical strength was not her strong suit.
But she had arms of her own. Arms she could use to fight back.
And Nyamu had weaknesses, too. Weaknesses that Mortis knew. Weaknesses that Mortis was familiar with.
So she wrapped her arms around Nyamu in return. Then, after a few moments, pulled back just enough that her hands came to rest on Nyamu’s hips. She squeezed lightly, making Nyamu wince. She looked down at Mortis, who had a wide smile on her face. “You’re a demon, you know that?”
“Are you admitting defeat?” Mortis responded. Her grin was continuing to grow.
“I could throw you into the street.”
“I’m sure you could. Will you?”
“No…” Nyamu trailed off, before suddenly letting out a yelp. “Augh.” She now had a blush on her face, after Mortis had squeezed her hips tightly.
“I could keep going. Or do you have a retort?”
Nyamu gritted her teeth. She considered actually throwing Mortis into the street— it would be satisfying, yes, but bad for Ave Mujica as a whole if their guitarist suddenly was injured.
Instead, with her free hand, she grabbed one of Mortis’s wrists and pulled it off her hips. Then she pushed the other girl away slightly and repeated that for her other wrist.
Before Mortis could try anything else, Nyamu wrapped her fingers around Mortis’s, then pulled her arm up. It was like they were dancing.
If any fans were around, they might think the pair were practicing for their next show. Hardly anyone would think it was a competition between the two. Even if they could tell that, it would be hard to say who was winning.
Neither felt like she was winning. Neither really knew what the goal was. But if the goal was simply to embarrass the other, then the score was even. Nyamu had a blush across her face, while Mortis’s was more like a snarl. The smaller girl wiggled her wrist in Nyamu’s grasp, but she couldn’t break it free. So, instead, she returned her hand to Nyamu’s waist and squeezed again. Much harder this time, and she didn’t let go until Nyamu did so first. When she did, it was with another yelp.
No progress was being made, but Nyamu was more flustered than when they began. It was cruel and unfortunate that she had easy weaknesses. Mortis surely had some, but Nyamu hadn’t found them. Mortis felt too unphasable— that’s exactly what made Nyamu want to break her so badly.
But tonight, or rather this morning, would not be the time for that. The area was suddenly lit up by approaching headlights. One of the taxis arrived. Both girls let go of each other and quickly broke apart, giving themselves a few feet of distance. Of course, it didn’t help the embarrassment of being seen like that.
Eventually, the taxi rolled to a stop. The window rolled down and the driver called out. “I’m here for Nyamu Yuutenji.” He looked at the two girls, then asked, “Are you together?”
The two shared a glance, then, with gritted teeth, answered nearly in synch, “Yes.”