Chapter Text
Kohane hadn't even planned on going out that day.
But, Minori begged Kohane to go with her to her new favorite club for days. Apparently, there's a cute bartender who's “flirting” with her. Kohane doesn't really believe it, and she has nothing better to do, so she decides to see this dream bartender with her own eyes—And get drunk. That's number one on her list, actually.
“Remind me why we had to go today..?” Kohane asks, adjusting her hair in the mirror in Minori’s room. She convinced Kohane that it would be cheaper if they rode together.
“Because this is the day Haruka works until closing!” Minori replies with such enthusiasm that she feels like it's a physical hit. “This way we can talk all night!!”
“I'm pretty sure that's not how it works,” Kohane laughs a little. It's nice to see Minori so excited, she guesses.
“Of course it is!”
“She has to do her job, Minori.”
“Oh..”
Kohane can literally see Miniori’s face fall for a second, like this is her first time realizing that she, in fact, will not be the only person at the club tonight. She seems to immediately bounce back from that revelation, though. Kohane wishes she had that skill.
“Well! That just means I have to try extra hard to get her attention!” Minori declares, her voice is so passionate, you’d think she's talking about her lifelong research. Not some hot bartender.
“I'm sure you will”
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The club was loud when they walked in. Not that Kohane is surprised. Clubs are usually noisy.
Not that she has much experience. Kohane’s been to her fair share of bars—but clubs just aren't her scene.
If she wants to get drunk, she’d much rather do it in a place where there isn't blaring music.
“Ah! Welcome back, Minori.”
Kohane is finally snapped out of her thoughts by a new voice, her eyes landing on its source.
There, behind the bar, stands a woman slightly taller than both Kohane and Minori, with short blue hair framing her face. She's shaking some drink in a mixer.
Kohane’s eyes drift down to her chest—not in a weird way—She has a tattoo there.
It's a clover with text below it that reads "Mare."
So this is Minori’s hot bartender.
“Hi Haruka!” Minori replies, finding herself a seat at the bar immediately. Kohane stands back—not really sure when to come in on their conversation.
“You’re Kohane, yes..?” Haruka turns her attention to the blonde, causing a minor internal freak-out from her.
“Yeah!- Yes. Yes, Kohane. That's me!” Kohane immediately wants to die. She's so incredibly awkward. This is precisely why she doesn’t go out.
Haruka just giggles, pouring that drink she was shaking into a glass.
Kohane watches as she walks away, setting the glass down in front of a customer on the other side of the bar.
“She's actually real,” Kohane remarks, finally taking a seat next to Minori.
“Did you think I was lying?”
“Well.. yeah kinda.”
Haruka returns after a minute. She leans against the bar, and Kohane almost gags at how blatantly she’s eyeing Minori up.
They really are flirting.
“So, can I get you the usual, Minori?”
“Have I ever changed my order?” Minori leans a little closer to Haruka. Kohane scoots back in response.
This is gross to watch.
“Well then,” Haruka stands up, grabbing a mixer. “One cosmopolitan for the beautiful lady in front of me.”
Kohane watches Minori blush in response. She wants to die.
It's not that she's upset that Minori has found someone who likes her.
It's because she’s jealous.
She wants someone to look at her like that.
“And for you?” Haruka turns her attention back to Kohane—completely throwing her off.
Kohane pauses to think. If she’s going to be here all night, she might as well have fun with it.
“Strawberry margarita,” She decides, her eyes landing on the look Minori is giving Haruka as she mixes her drink. “Double.”
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Kohane is on her second drink.
If she's not watching Haruka flirt with Minori, she's listening to Minori brag about how amazing the other girl is when she leaves to actually do work.
When Haruka returns, Kohane realizes she can't take any more of this.
Kohane stands up, downing the rest of her drink in one big sip.
“I'm…going to the dance floor,” she declares—met with just a simple wave from Minori. Clearly, Haruka has her full attention tonight.
Whatever.
She stumbles her way to the dance floor—Okay, maybe those two doubles were a bit too much.
Her eyes drift up to the DJ booth, expecting to see Bad Dogs. She’d seen them up there when she walked in.
She only knows them in passing—Minori’s mentioned how good they are a few times. She never really cared.
But now? There's someone else up there.
A woman—one with long black hair that fades into blue, lights catching on the star-shaped clips in it.
She moves like she commands the room—every single gesture carried with a confidence Kohane could only wish she had herself.
Kohane’s gaze drags back up to the woman's face—and she freezes.
Her eyes.
A fiery, blazing orange, the color shimmering in the club lights.
They're so… beautiful. So bright and warm.
And they're completely locked on Kohane’s.
Kohane blinks—no, that can't be right.
Yet even when she looks away, then back—they're still on her.
Maybe she's just drunk. Maybe all of the alcohol in her system is playing tricks on her.
There's no reason she should be looking at her. There's an entire crowd of people!
What's so special about her?
Kohane blinks again, harder this time, as if that will somehow magically wake her up.
Nope. She's still staring.
The woman eventually looks away, then down, flipping something on her board—then her eyes are right back on Kohane.
She looks behind her—maybe she's looking at something else. Maybe there's some impossibly beautiful goddess behind her that's gotten the woman’s attention.
Nope. Just people dancing. Definitely not making intense eye contact with the DJ.
Kohane feels a weird fluttery sensation in her stomach. It's from the alcohol… Probably.
She points at herself with a sloppy movement of her finger, silently asking this mystery woman, “Me?”
And she might be drunk—but she swears she sees her nod yes.
Kohane doesn’t know what she's supposed to do. This woman is… stupidly beautiful.
And she's looking at her.
Her eyes trail down the woman's body—taking in her almost cocky expression every time the crowd cheers, how her hair falls and frames her face, and the way her fingers move over every button like she's done it a million times before. Like she was born doing it.
She definitely needs another drink.
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Within the last half an hour, Kohane has learned three things.
First, the hot mystery DJ goes by “Vivid” which seems pretty fitting—she has a vibe to her that can only be described as vivid.
Second, her set ends in fifteen minutes. Which Kohane doesn’t know whether to be upset about or excited for.
Third? Haruka can make an amazing strawberry margarita. She knows because she’s about halfway through her third.
Kohane needs some sort of liquid courage—something to help her actually get out there and do something about this.
Kohane stands up from the bar, grabbing her drink and making her way back to the dance floor, her steps a lot less coordinated now. Maybe this is her sign to stop.
She finds herself back in her original spot, the alcohol loosening her up enough to actually want to dance now—But she's on a mission.
She looks back up at the DJ booth, met with that same hair, and those same blazing eyes.
And she might be drunk, but she feels like she sees Vivid’s smile grow a little wider when her eyes meet Kohane’s.
Kohane watches as the woman's hand reaches out to grab the mic—hearing her voice for the first time as she says her goodbyes.
Her voice is so enchanting… so full of confidence. The type of voice that could command a room with a single word.
Wait—Goodbyes??? She’s ending??
Haruka told her she’d be on for another 15 minutes. And she spent way too long trying to get that information out of her, considering how hard it had been to tear her attention away from Minori.
They still make her sick.
Kohane looks up at the booth again—that's when she catches it.
The subtlest gesture, but an unmistakable one. Vivid tilts her head to the right, gesturing to the booth in the very corner of the club.
Then, with a little wink, she walks off stage—some announcer already talking about the next set. Kohane doesn’t know who it is, and she doesn’t care.
All she cares about is getting to that booth.
Kohane doesn’t even realize she’s moving until she bumps into someone, almost spilling the drink in her hands. She mutters some slurred excuse of an apology, then she continues walking.
Her eyes stay trained on that corner booth, the leather seats seem to glow in the light—no, wait… that’s probably just the tequila.
She sits down in the booth, feeling like a little bit of a loser sitting alone. Maybe she really did imagine the whole thing.
She swirls the rest of her margarita in her glass, bringing it up to her lips and downing the rest in a big gulp.
“You always drink like that?” She hears a voice behind her, immediately turning her head to the source. “Or is that just because you’re meeting me?”
There, standing in front of her. It's Vivid.
She's even more beautiful up close—the blue tips of her hair reach her hips, just about an inch shorter than the shorts she’s wearing.
Her eyes run down her legs—one wrapped in fishnets, the other accented with two belts around her thigh.
“You are... not subtle.” Kohane’s eyes immediately snap back up to Vivid’s, a new red tint on her cheeks.
“Ah! Sorry...” Kohane looks down at her hands, picking at the edge of her skirt.
“It's fine.” Vivid leans against the table, like she refuses to sit down. “It’s not like I'm any better. I think you’re pretty hot too.”
Kohane feels her stomach flutter again—this time, she can't blame it on the alcohol.
“So uh…” Kohane looks up to meet the eyes of the woman in front of her. She's so beautiful it's actually messing with her head.
“You’re… Vivid?”
“That's what the people here know me as,” She leans closer to Kohane, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear.
“But a pretty girl like you can call me An.”
Kohane swallows, her body tensing at the feeling of Vivid—An—touching her hair like that.
She seems to feel even hotter—and it’s definitely not just the tequila anymore.
“An..” Kohane repeats, her fingers gripping the edge of her skirt now.
“Yep!” An says, leaning back with that impossible confidence. “And what should I call you?”
“A-Azusawa—” Kohane blurts out immediately, wincing the minute that leaves her mouth.
“Wait—No. Not Azusawa.” Kohane pauses again. “Well—that is my name. My last name. Which I didn't mean to give you.”
An laughs softly, enjoying this display of her drunkenness. “Well… then what should I call you, pretty girl?”
Exactly that. Kohane thinks. Hearing An call her ‘pretty girl’ makes her dizzy in a way strawberry margaritas never could.
“Kohane…” She says slowly, like she's not even entirely sure she's saying it right. Which is stupid—because that definitely is her name.
“Kohane?” An repeats, she flushes at the sound of her name in An’s voice.
She nods. Then nods again, harder.
“Yeah—yes. Kohane. Yes. That's my name.” She replies, a little quieter—like she's proud she actually remembered.
An laughs again—warm, low, and sickeningly pretty.
“That’s quite the cute name.”
Kohane blinks. Then blinks again, slowly.
“You… think my name is cute?”
An hums in reply, nodding.
“It's a cute name that fits a cute girl”
Kohane feels like she might melt on the spot.
She looks back down at her lap, the only way she can manage to regulate her breathing.
“You keep looking away from me…” An mutters, leaning a little closer, a fake-innocent frown on her lips.
“Well you’re—” Kohane tries to think of a lie, something smooth, something that would make An think she's cool… but nothing comes.
“It's because I'm nervous.”
An laughs again, her hand moving to guide Kohane’s chin up, making their gaze meet again.
“Why?”
Before Kohane can even try to think of a reply, An leans in closer, close enough that Kohane can feel the warmth of her body radiating.
An’s lips find themselves right by her ear, her voice dropping down so soft it barely cuts through the loud music.
“I like it when you stare.”
And Kohane definitely hears it.
She blinks, swallowing hard again.
“I like it when you stare too.” She blurts out—immediately cringing at herself.
But An seems to like it.
“You're hot.” An pulls away suddenly, leaving kohane cold from the sudden loss of An’s body. “I like you.”
An reaches into her back pocket, pulling out a small card.
Kohane opens it—silently praying it's a number.
Her drunk brain struggles to focus on the tiny writing.
It's…hours?
Kohane looks up at An, clearly not doing a good job of hiding her confusion.
“What..? Did you think you’d get my number that easily?” An laughs, that cocky tone back in her voice.
It would be irritating if she wasn’t so goddamn attractive.
“Well.. a little bit,” Kohane answers bluntly, tucking the card into her pocket anyway.
An leans in—just close enough that Kohane momentarily feels the warmth of her skin— and taps her nose.
“Come back during any of those hours.” She mutters, her voice low and playful. “Then we’ll talk about a number.”
Kohane doesn't even fully know how to respond to that.
“And maybe I can get you… alone..” An whispers, her voice dropping to something lower, borderline dark. “…Wear this shirt next time.”
“What—why?” Kohane blinks, looking down at her outfit.
An shrugs, pulling away from Kohane again. “Seems easy to take off.”
Kohane sits there, stunned as she watches the girl pull away—and then walk away fully. Her eyes threaten to wander back down, but she stops herself.
An’s teasing voice rings in her head, a small smile tugging at Kohane’s lips.
Okay. Challenge accepted.
She’ll get her number if it's the last thing that she does.