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Kohane Azusawa has never known true impotence like that of standing opposite the street from hot pink LED lights that salaciously wink at her, at an hour she should probably not be out in, dressed far too lightly for the chill that slinks in the absence of the sun.
Nor has she ever been so overwhelmingly full of the buzzing need to run away, but simultaneously felt so trapped in knowing there is no choice but to approach.
How has every single one of the decisions she’s made up until now… led to this? Could she have ever known it would lead to this? Well, maybe— but still— What could she have done differently? Could she have avoided this culmination of bad judge—
“Awh, it’s fine, Kohane!” An insists beside her, patting her upper back, a movement that has just a little too much force behind it. Therefore, it succeeds in pushing a hard breath out of Kohane’s lungs. An does this while also facing the building neither of them should even be looking in the direction of. “It’ll be just like a sleepover!” She punctuates this with the widest of smiles, so unassumingly big to Kohane that she can almost forget the situation at hand.
Almost.
Kohane swallows as her gaze inevitably trails back across. The lights flicker thrice, almost as if to goad— no, taunt her. Its color looms over them, only infinitesimally better than the all consuming darkness of the unlit alleyways they had quickly passed to get here. She pulls her cap— which has already been long flipped around in a poor attempt to hide her face from everyone around who ideally don’t and won’t ever recognize her, further down. Because she still refuses to take chances. She wishes there was a way to do the same for her partner.
“An-chan,” she whispers in a final peter of panic. “Isn’t this illegal? We’re not—”
“It beats sleeping on the streets! Doesn’t it?” An replies with an off-kilter laugh. When Kohane doesn’t give her anything more than a wince, she entirely drops it with a sigh. “Okay— Kohane— look, I’m sorry, if I’d known the trains would go inactive early today I wouldn’t have stalled us from getting home but…” she helplessly shrugs. “Dad doesn’t have a car right now, mom’s probably dead asleep, and, uh.” An cringes, as if afraid to ask. “What… time is it again?”
Kohane looks sidelong at her.
“We were already past curfew when you kept us, An-chan…” she tells her, in no way accusatory. The last thing Kohane currently is, is in a position to pitch blame on her for the situation. She had caved to the idea of stepping aside to spend just a bit more time together in the same moment it had taken An to suggest it. Then succumbed to one last goodbye kiss in the same breath An had implied it. But one last kiss usually becomes two and kiss number two is always twice as long and doubly dangerous which equates to Kohane drowning fourfold in a way that she knows will not be defended when they eventually end up before a court of law.
An purposefully fixes her attention elsewhere, unrepentantly guilty. It would be an oxymoron if Kohane didn’t feel the exact same way. So much so that she’s still lingering too long at details that are especiallydangerous considering current circumstances:
The frizz of An’s hair where it had rubbed against wall, the crooked way her choker hugs her throat, the way sweat runs down the side of her neck—
Greedy, a part of her accuses.
Kohane doesn’t bother with a rebuttal.
“So…” An begins when her gaze travels back to Kohane. Kohane eyes snap back up to greet it. “Yeah.. your parents are out of the question too.”
“Were they in the question in the first place, An-chan?” Kohane just has to ask.
An’s hands heavily land on her own hips.
“Were they?” An asks her right back. Kohane sheepishly smiles, twiddling her pointer fingers. Her phone still heavy with messages she doesn’t know how to answer quite yet without inducing dual heart attacks. An takes the silence as enough answer. “So that leaves us with…”
Kohane swallows.
.
.
.
?!
“Whaaaat theeee?” Kohane next hears An say under her breath. She doesn’t respond, busy craning her head in all directions to take in the reds and pinks of the common room they’re in: A couple large sofas lay nested against the corner, while the other side finds itself mainly occupied by large display machines. Towards the far walls are elevators and stairs, and filling the gaps in between are various patterns and details of decoration.
Kohane blanches at the fact that there is absolutely nothing that even remotely indicates a reception. Unless… one of those few people seated is meant to be working there? Kohane blatantly stares, searching their clothes for a logo, brand name, or anything else that would indicate staff. She eventually gets a look in return, from a particularly well dressed woman, who regards her, then An, then Kohane again, before arching an eyebrow.
Kohane’s breath hitches, and she promptly flushes before entirely redirecting her attention onto her partner, who had taken a step too many away from her in favor of squinting at the other corner of the place. Kohane remedies the distance by shifting closer to her side, pressing shoulders as she feels for An’s sleeve to re-establish much needed contact.
All too naturally, An shakes Kohane’s grip off to instead wrap her arm around her back, pulling her in, and Kohane receives a healthy dose of reassuring smile and forehead bump before An finally decides to take notice of the attention they’ve garnered. She stiffens, her features going blank for a beat before she swiftly herds them away from the entrance altogether.
“An-chan?” Kohane starts with a whisper once they’ve moved a little away. “Do you think we’ll have to ask someone for…?” She lets herself trail off, waiting for the moment where An— with social navigation skills far superior to Kohane— would take the hint to lead them to the most friendly face in the room to charmingly ask how exactly two underage girls can go about acquiring a room in a place they are definitely not meant to be in for entirely innocent sleeping for the night reasons she can promise—
An only silently flattens her lips. Kohane supposes she can’t really fault her for that.
An does, however, stop them in front of a large screen. Kohane decides to have faith in her as she goes to to tap on a white generic display and suddenly, two scrolling rows suddenly appear, panning through pictures of rooms.
It would be difficult to miss the sigh An lets out in relief.
“Okay, looks there’s no need to…” An says as she cups a hand up as if preparing to share a secret. Kohane leans in as if she wants to be privy. “I think this is actually like a fast food place,” she quietly informs Kohane.
“Fast food?!” Kohane whisper shouts. Despite herself, images flare in her mind, and her throat dries of its own accord. “That’s—?!”
“No! No, really, look.” Kohane incredulously stares at An as the latter gestures to and fro between the options, before thinking to actually focus where she’s being to directed to look. “We just pick out a room, pay and it’s probably gonna give us the key.” An leans in closer to the screen to read prices, still in a whisper. “There’s no way they’re that cheap? What could the cheapest be—?” An taps on a room, and the picture expands, presenting other angles of the space, and…
“Is…” Kohane’s voice trembles. “Is that a cage? Where’s the bed?”
An lets out a series of silent curses as she quickly exits out the window. “Most expensive thing they’ve got it is.” An flicks through the alternatives quicker than before. “Or something normal enough, please.” She scrolls past a vast array of colors: red, pink, blue, purple, some bigger than others, some more sparse than others, some with accessories that Kohane really doesn’t want to consider the implications of. “Seriously what even are these—?”
“Oh! Wait An-chan! I think I saw—” Kohane holds out a hand to stop An and swipes the screen back a few to tap on a comparatively mundane combination of maroon and beige, complete with a bed and a reassuring lack of anything not expected in a home bedroom. She lets her eyes fall to the displayed price… and… An really was right, it certainly is affordable. Kohane has never been much in the habit of spending too much of her allotted allowance, so she can more than take this.
She reaches into her jacket pocket, fingers clasping around her phone.
“An-chan, I can—”
An grabs her wrist.
“Woah now, don’t tell me you actually wanna use your card?”
“Why no— eep!” The bank statements! The ones her parents check at any time to decide how best to inflate her allowance!
The scenario plays out with horrifying clarity in her mind’s eye: Kohane’s mother opening the app on a given Tuesday while baking a pie, then letting out a gasp at the scandalous transaction as her knees go weak. Kohane’s father runs into the kitchen to check on his wife and he catches a glimpse of the phone screen before letting out a yell and collapsing. Kohane dashes into the kitchen in response to the commotion to find her parents crumpled on the ground, panic fuels her veins as she reaches for the phone a ways away to call for an ambulance, the bank receipt displayed stops her dead in her tracks. She promptly passes away from mortification, no one is conscious when the oven timer beeps, the pie burns, setting the oven aflame, then the entire Azusawa house. An runs to the scene of the accident alongside friends she had been with, she falls to her knees, blaming herself for—
Kohane’s blinks away forming tears to hastily fumble for her wallet, flicking through her cash compartment. 1000… 2000, 2500… 2700… She’s only just a little short, she needs to—!
“An-chan, do you have—?” When she looks up, An is already feeding her own bills into the machine. “Eh?!”
“You can pay me back next time.”
“Eh?”
An fumbles to take the keycard the machine spits out. Focused on reading the text on it. “Third floor, let’s go quiiiiiiiiiiii—” An turns, her mouth falling wide open as she flushes. “—uuuuuuhhhhhhh.”
“What? What is it?” Kohane turns around, and An is too late to stop her as she locks eyes with a man twice her size right behind them, with the woman from earlier in his arm. And behind him is— is that a whole line?! Did they really take that long?!
An nervously laughs. “Ahah, sorry for the holdup, we’ll be going now!”
“Oh, um, yes sorry—” Kohane’s stumbles a few paces as she’s hastily pulled towards the elevator. The woman doesn’t take her eyes off Kohane throughout, and Kohane can only try and fail to look away, mortified, as An, in her periphery, taps their floor button once, then the button to shut the doors a few hundred times more than necessary until said metal doors slide into place, isolating them.
It’s only then that An slumps against a wall covered in red fuzzy material with a long breath. Kohane can do little but look at the clench in her jaw.
She wants to say something— should probably say something, anything to address their current… situation, but, instead, her eyes only slip to the elevator panel, watching the numbers change.
…
..
.
.
..
…
Ping!
The elevator doors open to a red hallway dimly lit with hues of pink, evenly spaced doors exist along each wall.
And Kohane’s knees try to lock up with the realization she will be walking into one of them.
Is it really too late to leave? Yes, definitely, absolutely, An already paid after all. But if Kohane were to reimburse her, it would be fair right—? She could probably convince An if she gave her a better alternative. But where would they go? What would they do? Could they try walking back to one of their homes—? Obviously not! But— But—!
An slowly pushes herself off the wall with a sigh, wordlessly taking Kohane’s hand as she hums. It’s so quiet and half made that Kohane struggles to identify just what tune it is, could it be the new single they’re working on? No… the rhythm isn’t quick enough… A song from another artist, maybe? A ballad? Kohane still doesn’t have it figured out even when she lightly bumps into An’s back after an abrupt stop.
“An-cha..?” Kohane instinctively begins, before following An’s line of sight towards the door beside them.
407
Kohane blinks at the number on the plate before her, then blinks again towards the closed doors of the elevator. She hadn’t even realized she had been moved.
“Looks like we’re here,” An enunciates the last words with something Kohane’s probably supposed to interpret as enthusiasm. She currently struggles to, though, as preoccupied as she is with the sudden nausea-inducing panic she feels. She’s utterly hapless as An hastily tries to insert the card into the reader, missing the slot twice before getting a short tune followed by a lock clicking open. “Okay…” An exhales as she pushes the door open wide, before gently landing a hand on Kohane’s lower back, guiding her forwards. “Shelter sweet uhhh… shelter.”
Kohane’s moved before numbly hearing the door click shut behind her. She’s shifted slightly as An’s hand shifts to a linger on her shoulder before passing her to head further inside.
Inside…
Inside the….
The scent of incense wafts into Kohane’s nose. It’s warmer than the hallway had been. It's far warmer than it had been outside. So much so it can almost be considered… Ah.
The lights are a dim red, casting the corners in gradient shadow, giving the entire atmosphere a sensual tinge, something meant to facilitate one’s vision going hazy, letting other senses take priority as they fall to an emotion that's baser—
Kohane stalls her thoughts right there, not daring to take her eyes off An, coated in such an odd mood.
Her partner eventually stops in the center, smacking her lips in hesitation before craning her head back towards Kohane, her fingers drumming against the side of her thigh.
“Hey… Kohane… just to be clear, you understand we don’t have to uh… do anything that special here, right? Even if we’re… y’know….” —And why on earth would An bring that up at all that's one of the lasttopics Kohane needs to have on the fore—! “That’s just if you were, um, thinking about that.” An lets out half a laugh, one entirely unaware of the thunderous boom set off in Kohane’s head. “God, this sounds so weird to say, but I thought I should just put the option out there.” She gestures to the side of the room. “We can just sleep. The bed looks nice, right?”
Put the option out there. Kohane’s mind plays and replays the turn of phrase a few times to ensure it’s agonizing enough. Because what does it even mean? Would that mean she’s open to other options? Or is it because she expects Kohane not to go down that route? Does An want to go down that route?
Wait.
First off, does Kohane even want to lay down and sleep?
Currently? Kohane does not think a thousand chamomile teas and melatonin gummies could get her to shut her eyes, much less trust the bed in the place that’s name she still refuses to acknowledge. So, no. She does not think she would be able to sleep here if she were to try for the next month straight. In fact, it wouldn’t take much more to convince Kohane in this moment that she’ll never sleep again.
“I don’t think I’m tired enough for that,” Kohane plainly says, suddenly self aware of the heart beating in her chest because by process of elimination that leaves the other options, right? What are they? Does Kohane even want to know what they consist of? Is she ready to know? Aren’t they technically in the perfect place anyways for possible other things? At least, if Kohane properly understood what other things are. Should she ask to be sure? Can Kohane even ask something as embarrassing as that—?
“Oh,” An replies, flinching as if she wants to turn away but isn’t entirely sure she should. She then nods, expression set as she makes a decision to head to the large window at the far side of the room. “That’s—” She roughly pulls the half open curtain fully shut, blocking out what little tint of not-red it provided. Kohane’s breath hitches. “—fine too. We can talk, instead. We like doing that, talking.” She approaches, her socked feet padding against the floor— and when had she taken off her shoes— wait, shouldn’t Kohane also—? “Is there anything you want to talk about, Kohane?”
It’s a lifeline on paper and nothing else. Kohane appreciates An for trying to accommodate her this way, she really does. But absolutely nothing she can do can remedy the fact that the only thing Kohane can conjure up in her mind is something she cannot dare vocalize for fear of suggesting…
She shakes her head firmly to dislodge the meddlesome thought. “Not really,” she then supplies, squeakier than intended.
Kohane knows it’s unhelpful even before An’s expression tightens. She knows she should probably do a better job of voicing what it is exactly that has her on the verge of either overthinking to death, overthinking till she’s sick, or overthinking until she does something unfathomable. An is trying and Kohane knows that. She also knows she has no clue on what to say because how can she even begin to breach a topic like this, in a place like this, aside from just pointing out the glaringly obvious—
Wait.
The glaringly obvious…
Maybe that’s Kohane’s cue to start from there.
She takes a deep breath, and tries again.
“An-chan, we’re in a love hotel.”
It’s the metaphorical pin drop. The moment before the explosion. The point where everyone involved should run or take cover. They’re both stood in the midst of an ambiance so deep and thick it’s all consuming. But when Kohane voices the thought aloud, it feels like nothing but words on air.
An makes a pretty funny expression, as if Kohane had entirely and thoroughly spoiled the ending to a film she hadn’t even known she was interested in watching.
“You didn’t have to say it out loud like that,” An replies, near… petulant? Kohane isn’t quite sure what exactly the expression is. The only thing she can truly tell is that it’s complicated.
Kohane squints, stepping forwards towards her, trying to make sense of it.
“But you’re the one that asked.”
“Yeah, I did, but…” An shifts her weight to the other foot, darts her gaze away then back. “I dunno, for some reason I didn’t think you’d actually…” She catches the thought and looks disappointed with herself. Her hands then come forward, seeking.
Kohane smoothly takes them when near, locking their fingers together.
“Say it?” She finishes for her.
When An looks down at her then, something passes through her eyes, something doughy, vaguely familiar. It passes when she lets out a low, breathy laugh.
Kohane pushes closer, intrigued.
“Maybe that’s why you did it.” An’s gaze slowly begins to slide away from Kohane. “Because I wasn’t expecting…” An trails off, but Kohane continues to look at her, before unlinking one of her hands to move it up and over An’s collarbone. An’s now empty hand in turn settles home on Kohane’s hip. “Yes. We’re in a love hotel.”
An begins to angle her head away from Kohane. The accompanying implication seeming to actually affect her, and Kohane’s hand slides over the skin of An’s shoulder and up to her nape to double check because everything is red, so red that she can’t actually tell—
It’s exceedingly warm.
Kohane’s other hand leaves An’s to cup her retreating face, her palm flat on her cheek, her fingers settling over her ear. It takes virtually no urging to tilt An’s head back Kohane’s way, but her gaze continues to be skittish, the glint in them hued.
Warm, warm, warmer.
“You’re embarrassed,” Kohane realizes aloud.
The sound that leaves An then can almost pass as wounded, but to Kohane’s ears, it only rings as devastatingly adorable.
“You didn’t have to say that either…” Kohane giggles at the defeated note in her tone, definitely noticing how An sucks her own bottom lip, contemplative, before letting out a loud sigh and speaking again: “I dunno what I’m doing either, y’know.” She nudges a strand of Kohane’s hair with a finger, twists it, fidgets. “But one of us has to at least look the part, right?”
Kohane considers this.
“Do you want me to try pretending, then? I can try, Emu-chan was giving pointers to young kids at the Wonderstage last week—”
“Snrk— ” An snorts, then laughs, a whole thing that escapes her chest in bursts. Kohane's smile graduates to a beam as she feels An shakes against her.
“—I remember a good amount of it,” Kohane tries to continue. “She said that every line has to delivered with full confidence from the heart, she also recommended a ritual before beginning to lose the anxiety—”
“Ahaha—” Kohane’s forehead is nudged by An’s own. “I don’t think you’ll need it. You already seem plenty comfortable all of a sudden.”
"There’s a bit of a limit to that, An-chan." Kohane wonders how it would be taken if she said it was contingent on the uncertainty An shows her. She decides to keep that detail to herself for now. “I don’t think I’d be as calm if I were here with anyone else.”
An hums.
“You wouldn’t be here with anyone else, for one,” she states, so matter of fact that it causes flutters in Kohane’s chest.
“Ehehe, because I’d be more responsible?” She replies nonetheless, with humor.
An moues.
“That too, I guess,” she begrudges.
Kohane makes a valiant effort to stifle herself by biting her bottom lip. It doesn’t save her from the stray giggle.
“I wouldn’t dream of it anyways,” she says, because she can and the words are very much true.
Her gratification comes at how evidently pleased An gets at the admission, her eyes seeming to glimmer.
“So,” An begins again, grinning ear to ear, which honestly should have been enough forewarning to Kohane. “You’d only dream of being in a love hotel if I was with you?”
It’s somehow enough out of left field to get Kohane to flush hotly. What kind of response is Kohane supposed to make against that?
“Stooooooooop—” she whines when An cracks into a chortle, trying to pull away as it intensifies. An's head swiftly falls into the crook of her neck to keep her in place.
Regardless, Kohane does manage to break away for a moment, but does little to evade out of the arms that open wide to either side to swiftly recapture her.
“Aaaaahh~” An melodically sighs in merriment. “There’s really no one else I’d rather be with~” she trills as she temporarily lifts Kohane off her feet and against her for a waddly half spin.
“Good,” Kohane huffs with her whole chest, having gone slack to let An have her fun.
When An eventually puts her down and steps away, she plops her hands on her hips and takes a good look around the place with a lot more assurance.
“Geez, I just noticed how ridiculous these lights are. You can barely see anything at all.” An moves to the nearest wall beside the door they entered from, hand on the wallpaper. “Do you see the switch anywhere?”
Kohane steps towards the other wall adjacent to the door, tapping the panel protruding from it, when a bar appears, she slides, and normal white lights grow in brightness.
“Found it.”
“You’re amazing,” An replies, and seriously, Kohane has to blink twice because there are times she just doesn’t expect the next words out of An’s mouth. An remains ever so casual, though, tapping the wall with the side of her fist before approaching to land her hands on Kohane’s shoulders. “I’ll admit now that I’m not that tired yet, either. But, we also should be sleeping soon to healthily catch the soonest train outta here. So what say you to the happy middle of actually chilling a little beforehand?”
Kohane crisply nods.
“Mn!” She replies in the affirmative. “We also need to figure out what to tell our parents, An-chan.”
An winces.
“Ahahaaa… that’s an idea too…” She cranes her head to the side, lopsidedly smiling. "Buuuut someone also needs to look over the room!"
“An-chan—”
An swiftly pecks Kohane on the cheek, swiveling away on a foot to dash and fetch a stool with a fluffy top beside a stray bar counter.
“I can walk myself—” Kohane tries to protest, but by the time she's toed off her shoes, she looks up to be met with wooden legs.
“Not if I can help it!” The stool is set down. An grabs Kohane’s shoulders, then goes on to simultaneously rotate and pull her onto the seat with so much ease that Kohane might as well be a doll. “I’ll text my parents afterwards, no worries! In the meantime, you don't mind prettily waiting right here for me right?”
…
..
.
Good evening, Otou-san, Okaa-san. I’m very sorry for not updating you both earlier, but I lost track of time. I’m going to be staying with An-chan for the night. I’m sorry again for the sudden change of plans
Kohane is well aware she's too easy when it comes to An.
Oh, it’s alright Kohane, I’m glad you let us know, your mother was starting to get worried
Thank you for letting us know, dear. Your father was the one pacing the living room, you did him a service. Please tell An’s parents that we said hello.
"My parents send their hellos to yours, An-chan."
"Okay!" Replies An from somewhere off. "I'll be sure to tell them."
Kohane taps out a response, even through the twinge of guilt at misleading her parents. It's for the best… and it isn't that Kohane's wholly fibbing anyways, she veritably is technically staying with An for the night, after all.
She looks up from the phone when done, a part of her is comforted by that pressing task being taken care of, freeing her to focus more on the situation at hand, which is…
Well…
Dumbly sitting right at the door, watching An rummage around the space they are in with the intensity of a sniffer dog. On second thought, maybe uselessly would be the better fitting. Though useless implies she’d rather be in An’s place, scrounging for..? She really isn’t sure what. But Kohane can certainly be convinced An’s looking for something in particular with the gusto she’s emitting.
But… if it’s something dangerous, she would definitely rather neither of them be near here at all. Not that Kohane believes there's anything inherently life threatening in this place… anything that would directly end her time on this earth, at least.
This place truly is… Ah, the label almost feels too neutral.
Kohane decides to occupy herself with finding alternatives that properly capture the gravity of this plane: The sin room. The room of unholy things. The room. The room of unspeakable deeds. The bad room. The no no room. The no good very bad room…
Maybe she’ll stick with the third.
It’s just a room at the end of the day. That thought manages to clearly calm Kohane somewhat. Granted, a room that Kohane could live the whole rest of her life in peace without ever knowing the existence of, but a room nonetheless. It’s only so much, just walls, ceiling and floor.
Kohane takes a deep breath, letting the wispy, floral incense of the room reside within her lungs.
Jasmine… she faintly manages to identify.
Kohane tries to think back to why she recognizes the scent, her mind supplies her with racks of perfume in a busy shop, the voice next to her knowledgeable, explaining meanings behind scents: vanilla notes evoking nostalgia, daisies for tranquility, jasmine for sensuality—
Kohane’s heel kicks the leg of the stool.
It’s almost offensive how pervasive the implications are in every square inch of the room. Maybe it’s only natural, the room was definitely made for one sole purpose and probably served it well. Kohane is just another in a long line that’s stayed within it, no less immune to its engineering—
Dang it!
Kohane scrunches her brow and tries to void her thoughts entirety for what already feels like a time too many. She finds success nonetheless, welcoming momentary peace in the blankness before a few choice words float to the forefront.
Put the option out there.
It occurs to Kohane then that what An may or may not want still remains a mystery. Granted, An did also admit that she’s as generally unsure as Kohane concerning… well… everything to do with the roomsituation, but that just means it’s probably on Kohane’s shoulders to proceed. While An may be the model example of directness, Kohane’s long since picked up that she too, has reservations; Carries feelings that knot up so tightly that it becomes easier to set them aside entirely.
And Kohane… well she’s always had the patience to unravel.
“Woaaaah wait, Kohane there’s speakers, like, built into the wall.” Oh? Kohane blinks a few times, refocusing on the act of seeing, enough to recognize An, or at least her bottom half, considering she’d seesawed herself from the arm of a leather chair in order to peer into a corner. “I wonder how we activate these, they don’t look too shabby at all.”
“There’s probably a remote control if there aren’t any buttons.” Kohane looks at the thick multicolored patch on An’s back left short pocket for no particular reason. “Can I come see?”
An’s hand scrambles to properly grip the armrest well enough to lift herself up. She flicks her head back, blowing hair out of her face before looking back to Kohane with a cheeky grin. “Not yet.”
The intention is so plain it might as well be transparent. It is exactly of An. Something Kohane has seen countless times, usually followed with the surprise being given away due to An's tendency to have her excitement to see Kohane's reaction scale far faster than her ability to keep a secret.
The anticipatory smile on Kohane’s face eventually dampens as she watches An dart over to the bedside, searching over short shelves before making it to a dresser, pulling open every compartment with a new wave of enthusiasm, announcing certain contents— sheets, slippers, pillows and dragging them out to use, dumping them onto an already well made bed, since—
“—I think we can do a bit better than two little pillows and a duvet, right?” An pats the stack. “Might as well make the most of what we’ve got.”
Kohane’s feet knock against the base of the stool when she swings them, refusing to stay entirely idle. “Why do I have to watch you do all this, An-chan?”
“You don’t have to watch,” An says as she shakes out a pillow. “You can also cheer me on.”
“But I’d rather help,” Kohane says.
An makes a show of propping her head up on a hand, her elbows sinking into the bedding when she props her weight on them.
“And I’d rather pamper you,” she matter of factly responds.
Kohane looks at An.
An looks back at her.
It’s a sad excuse of a stalemate, Kohane wavers just as easily as An tilts her head like a bemused puppy. She knows that if she were to hold out for even a bit more, An would be the one to utterly cave and simply confine herself to the corner in repentance for the rest of the night.
But… how exactly is Kohane meant to protest to something as shamelessly sweet as that?!
“Do your best…” Kohane lets out in defeat; An’s satisfied smile more than soothes over the irritation.
An eventually makes it to the nightstand, and she slides onto her knees on carpet before it with a noise that garners a sympathetic wince out of Kohane. If An feels the rug burn at all, she certainly doesn't show it, hands open and eager to be used on her target.
Like all the previous drawers encountered, An slides its large one open.
Unlike all the previous drawers, An just as promptly slams it shut.
“Aaaaaaaah,” she sounds, unsure? Unimpressed? “I think that’s more than enough exploration for today, actually,” she says, flat.
Kohane inhales.
“What’s in there, An-chan?” She slowly asks, getting up.
“Nothing we need,” An tightly replies. “And you know what? I was hoping to find the controls to the speakers, but screw it, let’s just listen to music now.” With a little more than her typical confidence, An whips out her phone from her pocket, tapping the screen as she brings it up to her eye level and— “Shit.” Her face falls.
Kohane sighs, watching An frantically tap at a screen that is most definitely black.
It only makes sense. With how much active An’s phone always stays— not that An makes a habit of constantly being on it, but more in the sense that she seems to receive a never ending flood of notifications and only thinks to turn off the phone every other time it goes into her pocket— it’s notorious for not lasting longer than a few hours without assistance. This typically isn’t a problem, since on any other day, An would currently be in her room, probably seated on her own bed with a cable at arm's reach, instead of… the room.
“Out of battery?”
“It’s fine, it’s fine,” An waves the phone in Kohane’s direction. “You have your charger, right? There was a power outlet behind the chair there.”
Kohane makes her way closer to An, shaking her bag off her shoulders. Her mouth opening to form a light reminder that An really should consider investing in a portable battery for occasions like this, especially if she were to ever end up in a situation where Kohane isn’t around to help. She purses her lips, dreading the image of An finding herself stranded, lost somewhere, maybe even hurt, completely unable to contact anyone she knows for aid—
An meets her halfway, breezily taking the charger out of Kohane’s hand, as if she’d never even considered a scenario where she wouldn’t have this safety.
“Thank—” An pecks Kohane’s cheek. “You!” An swiftly darts out of reach, as if there were a radius to the chide Kohane had been a breath away from giving. “You’re really the best~” And just like that, the thought of saying anything against An at all seems ludicrous. Kohane doesn’t have any intentions on leaving An’s side in this life in any case, so there’s hardly a problem at all. “Let’s see where this can gooo…”
Kohane redundantly watches An skip back to the corner of the room with the armchair. She bites back another offer to help as An once again chooses to careen herself over the arm.
“So this one goes to the back of the—? Oh?” An’s head pops up. “Kohane, I think this is a massage chair!” She pats its leather. “Pretty sturdy one too. Do you wanna give it a shooooo…” An’s demeanor and voice slowly drops the longer she drags the vowel until she just halts, raising a brow. “You can just say you aren’t interested, y'know.”
It’s only then that Kohane realizes she’s making a face.
Her hands darts up to her cheeks, tapping them as she tries to school her expression. “I’m sorry, An-chan. I just…” She flounders for any reason that doesn’t just sum up to the miraculous ability the room possesses to make Kohane's gut simulate indigestion. “…maybe later?”
An’s brows set into determination, she nods once in acknowledgement before dipping her head back down out of Kohane’s sight to presumably mess with cables. “No massage chair it is,” She grunts. “Ah, so which one belongs to..?” She fiddles around more, her bare legs swaying in the air. “This one goes here, that there… so that one is…?” An’s hand steadily appears, fingers following a long white cable that eventually ends in a sort of pouch tucked into the side of the chair. Curiously, An repositions herself to tug it wide open. “What’s this?”
And that does its job well in nagging something in Kohane’s head.
“An-chan, I don’t know if that’s a good—” Kohane’s throat dries out the moment An pulls a long cylindricaldevice into view.
An stares.
Kohane stares.
An regards Kohane with confusion, then twists the thing in her grip, forehead scrunched, looking it over as if searching for something.
The words that Kohane wants to voice come out in a nearly inaudible whistle.
An finds a switch and flicks it.
The device begins buzzing.
It takes a full agonizing five seconds for awareness to hit An. Kohane watches realization slowly dawn on her face, the mortification plain as day on her demeanor as she lets out a high:
“OH!” The buzzing promptly stops as An swiftly turns away, trying to keep it out of Kohane’s view as if the damage hadn’t long since been done. An then begins laughing, the edges hysteric. “Ahahaha! Guess that definitely doesn’t need to stay plugged—!” An’s hand darts to her own mouth for a beat as she rushes back behind the chair. “White cable, white charger, easy peasy! In!” An pops back out, grinning wide. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?!”
Kohane just feels her ears flame as she tightens her grip on her own phone— only now remembering its existence— and starts up one of their shared playlists.
An puffs out stray laughs as the beginning instrumentals play, throwing herself onto the armchair.
…
..
.
It’s a few songs, a few urges to text, and a bit of shuffling about later that Kohane idly finds herself looking at the half open door a distance away in favor of virtual cats playing with tissue boxes in a game. A door that had received a cursory glimpse from An earlier but had what lies past it remain mostly unexplored.
An’s fingers stall in tapping along to the ongoing music on the armrest as her other hand drops her phone into Kohane's lap. She sets her head on Kohane’s shoulder to follow her line of sight.
“Oh! The bathroom! I totally forgot!” Hands flinch against Kohane’s waist, as if unsure how best to displace her. Kohane simply sets aside the devices and pushes herself up and out the way, freeing An to bound over to her newfound destination.
The latter catches herself in the doorframe and feels around the wall for a light for a few beats. Before a click sounds, then: “Woaaaah the size of that tub!”
Kohane follows after pausing the instrumental and leaving both phones on the chair, she’d be lying if she wasn’t a little curious.
When she peers around the doorframe, she’s startled by the clean minimalism she’s greeted with: a single sink and toilet being secondary to the large tub that dominates the majority of the floor-space to the left wall.
“I’m pretty sure that’s because it’s meant for two,” Kohane chimes, thinking as little as possible on the notion of a two person bath.
An, on the other hand, takes an odd fascination with the bathtub, tracing its rim with a hand as she half circles the structure. She drops to her knees, resting her arms on its edges, letting out a discontented sound before reaching inside to feel around.
“What even are these? Lights?” An’s brows knit as she runs her hands over silver protrusions. “And these? Don’t tell me they’re like, those jacuzzi bubble making things.”
It takes Kohane a significant amount of effort to keep her expression level, she doesn’t think it works, because this is…
“They might be.” Kohane moves beside her, looking over the various shiny shower knobs. “There’s probably different water pressures, too.”
“It’s seriously way overkill,” An replies, tilted. “I mean, people probably stay for a day, tops, so nobody would even appreciate it.” She sniffs. Then interests herself with the odd collection of sample sized soaps resting on a dedicated groove. She sniffs again, more despaired. “These are from newest Bethania collection…” She picks up a shampoo reverently, reading the label before scrunching her eyes shut. “No. Nope. I don’t care actually. It’s fine. It’s only sold out just about everywhere…” She puts the bottle back down with a little too much force, knocking some other tubes into the bath.
Kohane watches in open amusement as An practically dives into the tub to collect the fallen soaps. She makes a mental note to look into the brand name later.
“Do you maybe want to take them home, An-chan?” She suggests. “If they’re here, they’re probably free to use.” They seem to only be big enough for one session, after all. Kohane sincerely doubts any party would mind.
An flops onto her back, holding the bottles to her chest. Her lip wobbles.
“Great idea!” She sounds a touch too loud. “They’re not that special anyways! They’d be right at home in my bathroom, in my single pressure shower with the hot water that stops after ten minutes—!”
Kohane titters and raises her hands, trying to soothe. She’s heard the complaint a million times over and knows that the line of thinking will only work An up more. She lets her tone grow gentler:
“Do you maybe want to try the bath—?”
“No!” An responds, too hotly. “Why would I want to try the super big and fancy luxury bath?! Mine’s cool too! It holds water great! And we can both fit just fine in it—”
Kohane blinks, plainly disarmed.
“Eh?”
An looks at Kohane for a beat, brows downturned. “If we wanted to, we could squeeze in there!” she quickly clarifies. “You’d have to get first dibs on washing off because of the water thing, but it could totally work, and..!”
An’s subsequent words swiftly blur together into something only slightly comprehensible for Kohane, busy as she is frantically swimming upwards after suddenly finding herself deep in the depths of the intimacy of mutual showering.
She thinks she shakes the thought away soon enough, letting out a puff before making a beeline towards the cabinet under the sink, looking through it. She finds it quick enough, and she returns right to An’s side to place a towel robe on the rim of the tub, effectively ending the rant.
“I really do think you should give it a try, An-chan,” she says gently, patting the fluffy material. “You might end up liking it.”
An blinks at the robe, then at Kohane. She then looks at the ceiling with a pout.
Kohane nearly melts right then and there. How does this stubborn side of An manage to be so endearing?
“Fine,” An shortly sounds.
Kohane's broadly smiling as she slowly stands herself up, taking a good five steps away from the tub to give An room.
An raises a brow, before pulling at the fabric of her shirt meaningfully.
Wait. Room for what?
“O-oh!” Kohane skitters back towards the door. “Yes I should probably…” She makes the mistake of looking back. An hadn’t even waited for her to leave to remove her shirt! “Go—!”
The door slams a little louder than Kohane had intended it. She winces before making a hasty retreat to the center of the ever so vaguely ominous room to figure out how best to wait.
She thinks she hears pattering in the other room as her gaze slides towards the chair. She had already taken photos of all the cats that have visited her virtual garden. It will take some more time before any more decide to show—
"Kohane!" An suddenly shouts. "Kohane! Kohane are you there?!"
"An-chan?!" Kohane calls back, zipping back to the bathroom door, her hand firmly grabbing the handle. "Are you okay?!"
"Kohaneeeee!" An shouts again, sounding deceptively closer to the register of tears. "The bubbles are just so awesooooooommmmmeee…" There's the unmistakable sound of a dismayed thump. "Kohaneeeee I can change the pressure to even make it like miiiiiiiisssssttttt…"
"Ah…" Kohane's grip on the handle loosens. "Uhm, make sure to enjoy all the features to the fullest, An-chan."
"I don't wanna leeeaaaaaveeeeee…"
"You can take all the time you want." When Kohane receives nothing in return for a good few moments. She calls out: "An-chan?"
"I'm totally gonna become a prune at the end of thissss…"
Kohane slowly shakes her head. "It'll be alright…" she says before stepping away from the door.
So… with that dealt with…
Kohane looks around. She really isn't interested with interacting with anything she doesn't need to, given the fact that Kohane still hasn't forgotten where she is, but…
Her eyes lock onto the nightstand beside the bed. She looks at its drawer, the very one that somehow managed to sap An entirely of her enthusiasm earlier.
Should Kohane really..?
Before she knows it, she's moving, her fingers don’t hesitate in hooking around the golden knob, but stall in lieu of pulling.
It can’t be anything good. Logically Kohane knows this, but also…
She furrows her brow—
—and sharply tugs.
…
..
.
Kohane opens her eyes to see nothing but a box and a remote. She blinks, then blinks again.
What could have possibly alarmed An about this?
Leaning in closer, Kohane initially glosses over the label of the box to make sense of the image beside the typography, then she doubles back to actually read the text and—
Oh!
Oh! Oh nonononononononono An was definitely right that’s definitely not something they need!
Kohane swiftly shoves the drawer shut.
After a few seconds of willing the flush away. She decides her too-curious-for-her-own-good self really would be better off on a phone game. She straightens up, planning to beeline right for the armchair when her mind finally decides to acknowledge the glossy black screen of a TV set just a ways away.
…Well… Kohane knows from ill-advised experience that the national geographic channel runs for the full twenty four hours… It's a common enough channel too, right? Kohane thinks she can certainly use the comfortable nostalgia. If the current documentary playing is on a bug, though, Kohane will definitely have to turn it off when An leaves the bath. But, Kohane thinks it should be worthwhile! So long as… the remote… is… nearby…
Kohane looks back at the drawer and sighs.
…
..
.
Kohane holds the device as far as possible from her as she checks the front, the sides, then the back. Once, twice, three times. She finds no cameras, self destruct symbols, untoward signs or anything else inherently suspicious, even upon closer inspection.
So Kohane points it at the equally innocuous TV and clicks the big red button in the corner. The universal sign for the on and off switch.
The TV does not turn on, the panel beside it, the one separating this space from the bathroom near soundlessly slides open.
“Huh?”
An’s head turns to regard her from inside the bathtub.
Kohane looks.
From the bathroom, the other room bathroom that she can now see.
And looks.
An’s hair is tied up above her head and her shoulders are bare, very bare.
And is looking too long.
Presumably like the rest of her.
“Uh, Kohan—?”
Kohane does not think that she has ever clicked a button faster in her life.
Keyword being a button, not the button.
Saxophone instrumentals begin playing. Said instrumentals music get a couple notches louder, then switch to another saxophone track, and another— why are they all saxophone—?! The lights flick through several colors, pink, pinker, red— The track switches again. Compartments in the bar open. Then slide shut. The music cuts out. The lights dim— what is vibrating—?! Holy moly is that the massage chair—?!
An might be laughing harder than Kohane’s ever heard her.
It feels like Kohane thoughtlessly mashes a thousand more buttons before she finally thinks to look down at the remote and bash the red button to make the panel click shut, slide open again when Kohane’s finger trembles, and then slide back shut and stay shut, muffling the rest of the laughter.
“S-stop laughing!” Kohane shouts at the not wall. She’s a fool. Probably an entire comedy act at this point! What was she thinking?!
An, humiliatingly enough, doesn’t stop.
“An-chaaaaaaaaan,” Kohane whines. As stupidly hot faced as she feels, her lips start to tug up out of her own volition, because she just can't help the fact that she loves the sound of An's joy. “I didn’t mean to!” She adds, uselessly. This only gets a guffaw. Kohane’s face flushes deeper as she hears accompanying sounds of splashes.
…
..
.
“You know, Kohane,” An eventually begins, and Kohane whips her head from other virtual cats to see her partner grinning ear to ear in a fluffy bathrobe. She leans against the doorframe. “If you wanted a peek, you could’ve just asked.” She waggles her eyebrows for extra effect. “I wouldn’t have minded~”
Kohane stands and pouts to make a point, then tries to scrunch up her face into something meaner.
She may as well have just given An exactly what she wanted served on a platter, considering the way her eyes squint with mirth. The scent of vanilla hits Kohane’s nose as An comes nearer, and it's sweet in just the right way that Kohane is half tempted to lean closer until her nose is right on An’s skin—
And no no no! Kohane already told herself she wouldn’t go down that route again! She purposefully squints her features even more to purge the notion.
An pinches Kohane’s cheek.
“Too cute~” And Kohane melts as An’s fingers move underneath her chin to tilt her head up. “You were right. I like it a lot." Kohane hums in acknowledgement. "I think I was actually kinda jealous about it earlier.”
Kohane thinks that might be a bit of an understatement.
"I'm glad you ultimately got what you wanted out of it," she replies nonetheless, since, really, she is. An doesn't immediately respond though, continuing to look at Kohane with a wide eyed stare, her expression still.
"So you're gonna give it a shot too now that I'm out, right?" She asks with a smile.
"An-chan really wants me to experience it…" Kohane concludes.
An nods.
"You will probably never have a crazier bath."
And how is Kohane meant to resist upon receiving a review like that?
After multiple assurances of 'yes, An-chan, I do know the right knob changes the pressure,' and 'I see the button to activate the lights,' An finally leaves the bathroom dimmed to let Kohane unclothe and recline against the tub in order to benefit from the atmosphere and soothingly hot water.
As she lies there in the warm moisture in the air and pervasive scent of vanilla, her eyes slowly trail around the rim of the tub and up to the wall beside her. Due to being so close, Kohane's able to see indents in the construction, grooves that shape into a rectangle, and it vaguely registers within her that must be the moveable bit of wall, the one that she had accidentally opened, and she’s where An had been, completely bare where she currently sits and—
Kohane’s hand stills.
Oh no. Oh nononooooo. That’s not something she should be dwelling on.
Kohane takes to scrubbing her arm with shower gel, maybe a little faster than she should, but it's difficult to not think of the pink elephant, as they say, and Kohane might as well be in an entire zoo of them.
Kohane takes in a slow breath, laying her head back against the rim of the tub as she cups her hands over her nose and mouth. She shuts her eyes.
There's no stakes—
WHOOSH.
Kohane's eyes pop open at the sudden rush of air from her side. The wall— panel(?) had slid to the side, leaving Kohane with a wide view of the room, complete with An seated right on the edge of the bed, blankly looking back at her.
Kohane chokes on her heart.
“A-An-chan?!” She shrieks, her hands diving into the soapy water to cover her chest out of pure, undiluted instinct.
“HUH—?!” An’s head bounces between the remote and Kohane, bug eyed as she shrills even higher than Kohane. She then corrects into something that’s caught between a laugh and a cough. “Why is it the big red button?! Is that why there’s a square on it—?!!!!!”
“An-chan!”
“Oh yeah—! Uh, sorry Kohane—!”
The panel promptly slides back shut.
Kohane, sufficiently mortified, finishes up in the tub as quick as she can. Not that she believes An would try anything! But, she doesn’t think she’ll last if she stalled any longer.
…
..
.
When Kohane silently clicks open the door and pokes her head out. She doesn't know what to expect, but the sight of An still seated at the edge of the bed, head in her hands, arms propped on her knees, doesn't necessarily surprise her.
Is it about the panel? It isn’t like Kohane is any position to be upset, she very literally started it. Though some pesky little bit of her in the back of her conscience, grins, vindicated.
Kohane's sure to mentally tuck that part even further away before she speaks:
“An-chan? Are you okay?”
In the silence that follows, she begins to approach, her steps a touch faster than usual.
“I don’t mind, An-chan. I mean, I was surprised, but you were too, right?” Kohane twiddles her fingers. “The button really is misleading, isn’t it?”
An goes from looking down to looking up at the ceiling in an arc as she sighs. “No, it’s not that… well it kinda is but—” An’s eyes move back down to land on Kohane, then trail down, then jump up and fall back down again before she bodily jolts, launching herself from the bed and stumbling sideways a few paces, gaping with eyes blown wide open.
And yeah… Kohane knows she looks a bit silly with the too long sleeves and the bottom that brushes the floor like a ill-fitting dress, she’s already agonized enough in front of the mirror about the logistics for it be be fact.
“It’s… a bit big, I know, An-chan,” she manages with only a little tremble. She really should have accounted for this before anything else. Her hands instinctively touch the knot made at her side. She had tied it twice over to be more than sure that… well…
“You’re—” An’s hand slaps her own mouth at the speed of light. “Mhm, mmm, yeaaah,” Kohane makes out before An’s hand darts to her own hip, her mouth a flat thin line. “You know what, Kohane, I’m actually gonna head back to the bathroom real quick, 'kay?”
“Oh, um?” Kohane blinks. Is An asking permission? “Sure?”
An doesn't seem to hear her, dipping right into the bathroom with an odd urgency, the door swiftly shuts behind her.
Kohane picks at a loose thread on her sleeve. Did An seriously go in there to laugh? Kohane doesn’t look that ridiculous, right—?
“WAAAAAAAAAUGGHGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” Kohane nearly jumps right out her skin. “She’s SO CUUUUUUUUUTE!!!” This arrives alongside a series of thumps.
Kohane thinks that’s a safe no, but she also concedes that she will just have to forever live with the hot flush on her cheeks, as ingrained into her face it is at this point.
The continuous bawling steadily dies down after what Kohane can only assume to be a solid minute. Kohane would admire the lung capacity if she weren’t so preoccupied with remaining among the living. A minute or so after that though, An’s pushing open the bathroom, all smiles, as if it had been anyone else wailing at top volume in the other room.
“Alright! I think I’m about ready to pass out. What about you, Kohane?”
‘I heard everything, An-chan,’ sits on the tip of Kohane’s tongue.
“I think I am too..” she meeps out instead, anything else wouldn't lead to news, anyways.
The motions that follow don’t carry much fanfare. It's late, after all…
Kohane lets her back slowly lay flat against the soft mattress. It is a uncanny sort of soothing, one that welcomes her. She shuts her eyes, trying to will her muscles to relax.
…
..
.
It doesn’t work. Kohane’s eyes pop back open— frustrated— as she stares at herself. She really does look more off kilter than usual, is that really how she’s been coming off to An today? She doesn’t mean to, she just—
Kohane blinks, then blinks again as she takes in her own face. Her face, her hair, the bathrobe, the pink sheets surrounding her—
Oh stars above that’s a mirror above the bed. Why is there a mirror above the bed?! Oh, who is Kohane kidding of course there’s a mirror above the bed, it’s probably for that. How is Kohane supposed to pretend to get any sleep when she can’t even have a plain ceiling to stare at in awake horror?!
“Is the bed comfy, Kohane? I sure hope it is, considering what I paid.”
Kohane barely feels the mattress dip as weight is put on it, but she definitely sees An’s hand in the edge of the reflection, followed by her hair, and the arch of her back as she nears and Kohaneshouldreallylearntostopsabotagingherself—
“I think,” Kohane begins, with weak voice and weaker will as she continues to stare up. “It’s a bed.”
The way An’s body turns should be considered art. Kohane is slightly skewed left by the dip of An’s weight a foot from her.
“Well, no duh?” An asks, befuddled as she begins to settle right beside Kohane. “What has you so—?” An suddenly cranes her head up, and her reflection’s gaze meets Kohane’s eyes. “Oh.” She blinks. “Oooooohokay, that’s…”
Terrifying? Implication-ridden? Scandalous? Perverted? Who would even need— nevermind. Why are they even here? Why did Kohane pick this forsaken—
“… something,” An finishes lamely.
“Something,” Kohane repeats.
An shakes her head sharply, before beginning to shimmy, tugging the blanket beneath her down. Kohane only barely finds the mind to help and most notably, not look where she shouldn’t be. When done, An throws the blanket over them both with a jangle—
Jangle?
Kohane and An both whip their heads to the source of the sound, where something pink and furry lay at the foot of the mattress.
“An-chan,” Kohane whispers, hand-gripping-An’s-sleeve afraid. “What is that?”
An is grave faced as she sits up from her spot, letting her arm stay with Kohane as she pushes forwards, taking the blanket with her as she reaches a hand out to grasp the foreign object. She flinches back the moment she touches it, but reaches again to grab and hold it up.
The handcuffs clink as she holds them up.
An lets out a noise.
Kohane stops breathing.
The handcuffs suddenly find themselves thrown across the room as hard as possible, they hit the far wall with a thwacck before landing on the ground in a clatter.
“An-chan!” Kohane lets out, panicked. “What if we have to pay for damagin—”
“They’re fine, it’s fine, we’re fine—” An pats around the blankets— Kohane doesn’t miss the way she swipes a hand a few times against the corner of the bed— until she finds the edge, moving back as she throws it up. “We’re gonna sleep now. And come tomorrow morning, we’ll be on the first train back to my place. This is just a sleepover.”
And no matter what An says, this will be a day that haunts Kohane to her final shaky breath. A day that will taunt her in her dreams and waking thoughts.
The duvet falls over them both.
…
..
.
“An-chan…”
“The lights,” An flatly says.
“The lights,” Kohane echoes. She sighs before propping her hands on the bedding and push—
A hand on her stomach keeps her down.
“Don’t do that, maybe some kind of switch around here?” An shifts up out of the sheets to feel above the headboard, the top half of her robe opening a few inches.
Kohane nods, unprotesting.
“Or wait, there was also the—” An rolls a bit away, stretching outwards to retrieve something before returning to Kohane’s side and properly sitting back down. Kohane instantly recognizes the object in her hands as the accursed remote. “You managed to shut off the lights with this earlier.” An looks at Kohane, lip quirked. “You remember which button did it, right?”
Kohane clams up.
An grins, clearly not expecting a straight answer in the first place.
“Well, now’s a time like any to test, since it isn’t like there’s anyone in the other room to peep on anymore, right?” An taps a middle button right as Kohane huffs.
The TV on the other side of the room boots open with a blip.
“Oh,” Kohane lets out, and it's almost irritating, how easy it had been all along. “So that was the—”
The large screen suddenly goes beige, the fluctuates with color, and the sound of panting plays, and Kohane sees a hand on the wide expanse of beige, and oh wait a second that’s skin. That’s a hand on skin and gasping and is that fluid—?
An gapes.
It suddenly clicks right as An’s palm slams over Kohane’s eyes.
“An-chan—!” Kohane instinctively tries to pull the censor away from herself to— “Turn it off! shut it off—! Shutitoff—”
Kohane hears the thump of the remote leaving An’s hand and blindly lunges the moment an unmistakably feminine keen sounds loudly followed by a groan. Her face flames as she fumbles and feels towel and skin and hand for the device.
“Kohane! Wait wait— Don’t look! Wait—”
“An-chan! The remote!”
“Shitshitshit—!”
An shifts and Kohane bumps her jaw on bone and she stumbles and her knee presses into skin and her hand gets tangled in the sheets as she tries again to pry the hand off her face. Kohane falls onto An and her elbow hits muscle and Kohane’s fingers finally close against the device and she doesn’t waste a second in stamping her finger down on the off button in the flash she’s given to see.
A moan is cut off as the TV clicks shut.
…
..
.
Kohane looks at the dark screen, then slowly turns her head to An, who had somehow ended up under her, her hair splayed in every direction against the rumpled sheets. Kohane’s hand digs into the headboard, holding half her own weight up, the other drops the remote somewhere to grip at An's robe tightly.
An, in turn, stares up at Kohane, looking every bit as surprised as Kohane is stricken, her thigh tangled with Kohane’s, her hand flat on her chest, halted midway into a push.
“Kohane?” An whispers, voice raw, when both of them miss the opportunity to move away. Her hand twitches.
Kohane dryly swallows.
An isn’t expecting anything. Kohane knows that.
But above that that she can’t stop thinking, and fretting, and reacting to things she should’ve long since gotten over.
Kohane is on top of An, and her heart is firmly lodged in her throat, her breathing as rapid as its beats. An isn’t expecting anything, she said it herself, but Kohane isn’t dense enough to not know that she’s open to something happening. Though, maybe she wishes she was— no— she doesn’t, but also, she does, but her air is stuck in her and not moving Kohane is forgetting to breathe—
She doesn’t mind if something were to happen.
She thinks she wants something to happen.
Kohane should really be breathing even if her breathing would technically be onto An who’s right beneath her and the concept seems barbaric all of a sudden just what is Kohane thinking?!
It’d be so easy to place her palm on An’s cheek. To lean in and kiss her and forget everything else. To let her hands travel down and unravel and— T-that’s—! They’re both in nothing but bathrobes! A simple shift of their bodies would be all it takes for them to be skin to skin—!
Kohane has imagined hundreds of variations of this situation. She knows how she’d like them to end in her head.
And she reaches out a hand to cup An’s jaw. An leans into the touch as if she’d been aching it.
Wanting.
An sighs as Kohane sinks her weight onto her. She sinks further into the bedding. Her skin feels feverishly hot to the touch. Kohane, meanwhile, boils alive so potently she could almost do without the bathrobe but she can’t, she can’t, she really can’t—
Kohane knows so much but nothing at all. She isn’t ready— it suddenly seems so daunting— she isn’t—
“An-chan—” Kohane manages with some oomph before losing her subsequent words. She swallows and tries again. “I’m not… I mean I’m sorry, I’m—”
An holds her wrist, and just looks at her; short eyebrows slanted in gentle concern and bemusement.
'What's wrong?' her expression seems to ask, so earnestly.
“S-sorry,” Kohane sounds.
An hoods her eyes.
“What are you doing?” She voices.
“I…” Kohane bites her bottom lip. “I don’t know.” She considers stopping there. “It’s weird.”
“What is?”
“Everything.”
“Everything?” An asks, and her eyes widen again, gaze searching, brow furrowed.
“I’m…” Kohane desperately wants to look anywhere else, but her attention never leaves An, not for a second. “I’m thinking about it.”
An stares at her for a few long moments at that, uncomprehending, until she puffs out a low laugh. “You mean…?” She raises her brows at the nod she receives. “You’re so silly, Kohane,” she finally replies, hand ghosting over her cheek, finger twirling around a long length of her bangs. “I already told you you don’t have to.”
“But…” Kohane’s voice threatens to give out when her knuckles trace her jaw. “You want to, right?”
“I want whatever you want,” An plainly tells her.
“That's not how it works—” Kohane retorts, which just makes An smush her cheeks.
“And you’re thinking too much again,” she chides. “I’m really fine with anything. Wanna know why?”
Kohane’s tongue sticks to her own palate, holding back her instinctive protest.
“Why?” She asks instead, recognizing a set up when she hears one.
An charmingly grins, all too happy to be humored.
“Because either way, I get to sleep with my Kohane.”
A sigh through the nose is all that makes it out of her before she’s pressing her lips to An’s.
It’s as chaste a kiss as they come. It makes Kohane’s chest swell so much it wants to burst. Kohane can feel An’s blatant pride at the result of her exceptionally rare bad one. The moment An's fingers interlock at Kohane's nape though, she remembers so starkly exactly why they ended up here in the first place.
Ah, she'd absolutely do it all over again, given the chance.
“Now, let’s actually tuck in, okay?” An softly says after a pause when they eventually separate. Kohane can see the remainder of her embarrassment in the jerks of her movements as she feels around for the remote from beside Kohane. “It’s this button for sure—”
Kohane stops her with a finger, then presses another one towards the bottom of the remote.
“Hey~” An looks at Kohane mischievously. “Did you actually know the whole time?”
Kohane can’t even muster enough energy to react much, suddenly cognizant of the tension that’s bled out of her. In the darkness, it’s easier to forget the concept of being anywhere at all, leaving her just with An’s presence beside her and voice accompanying her thoughts.
“I just happened to remember,” Kohane mumbles.
The covers are subsequently readjusted around them as they readjust to sleep once; Kohane lies back onto her side, facing the warmth.
“You don’t have to…” An's voice rings from the dark. "Y’know, if it’s too…" Kohane simply shuffles forwards, letting her forehead rest against An’s collarbone. “Oh.” Kohane feels An’s throat bob as she swallows. “Okay.”
.
..
…
“An-chan, your heart’s beating so fast,” Kohane notices aloud after a length of time.
“…You did it again...” An softly replies after a long pause.
“Are you okay with that?” Kohane cranes her head back a couple inches. “As well as this? If you’re not, I can—”
“Kohane, I will actually cry if you let go of me,” An gravely says as Kohane's latched onto. She doesn’t doubt the fact that she’d actually do so for a second. "And I am," she adds, quieter, gentler. "That's not changing."
Kohane's hands worm out from between them to hold An's sides, with care.
"Okay," she sounds, before tucking herself back into place.
And so, they pull closer.
…
..
.
“I’m pretty sure it’s still illegal for us to be here, An-chan,” leaves Kohane’s lips as she settles more wholly. She’s able to feel the subsequent snort cut off halfway.
“I’ll make sure we end up in the same cell.”