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“More blush,” Miko says, reaching for the brush. Shiori pulls it out of her reach and watches as Miko swats angrily at it, like a dog reaching for its toy.
“Really?” Shiori grins as Miko finally rips the blush kit out of her hands, half-scrambling into her lap to do so. “Any more red and someone might mistake her for a tomato.”
“Like you know anything!” Miko huffs. “Do mermaids even wear make-up? Wouldn’t it all just wash off in the sea?”
“There’s this thing called waterproof mascara. Have you heard of it?”
“Don’t get smart with me,” Miko snaps, adding another layer of blush before leaning back to admire her handiwork. “Okay, Hinako, open your eyes.”
Hinako obeys and the fluorescent lights of her tiny bathroom rush back into her vision. She stares into the glass and finds her own reflection, eyes dull and gray, looking back at her. Despite Shiori and Miko’s protests, her face is relatively unchanged. They’ve applied enough foundation to cover up her natural blemishes and her cheeks are certainly a shade more red than usual, but for the most part she looks the same. Dull. Lifeless. Like a doll they’re playing dress-up on.
“What do you think?” Miko asks, sitting on her knees and peering up at her. Hinako tips her head left and then right, watching the figure in the mirror mimic her and tries to settle on a neutral response.
“Thank you for your hard work,” she says, bowing her head, and Miko groans.
“No, Hinako! Tell us what you think. Say Shiori put too many sparkles on your eyes–like I told her not to, she doesn’t have scales, I don’t know why you’re trying to give her some–or that I was too heavy-handed with the blush, say something–”
The doorbell rings, abruptly cutting Miko off and they all glance towards the exit.
“That’s probably the delivery we ordered,” Shiori says and Miko turns her nose up and sniffs the air.
“I smell chicken.”
“Of course you do,” Shiori says, covering her laugh with one hand and Hinako finds herself grinning at the way steam pours out of Miko’s ears.
“What’s that supposed to mean?!” she yelps and Shiori shoots her a full-toothed smile, coy.
“Nothing. Why don’t you go get the food now?”
“Why don’t you go get the food now?” Miko retorts, just to be contrarian.
“Which one of us is drooling?” Shiori asks pointedly and Miko quickly scrubs at her mouth.
“Fine, but I’ll be quick!” She’s up in a flash, dashing for the exit. Shiori moves quickly to cover up the gap she leaves, blocking the exit.
“Okay, now that Miss Overbearing is gone, tell me what you really think.”
Hinako glances up again at the mirror, at the alarming pallor of her skin, and wonders what the two of them see in her to give up their Saturday afternoon like this, trying to breathe a little bit of life back into her. Or maybe it’s more like what they smell in her.
“I feel the same,” she says honestly, shrugging with one shoulder.
“Well, take my word for it,” Shiori says, leaning in close. “You look delicious.”
Hinako gulps and nods and tries to decipher the gleam in her eye. It looks like hunger, a type of hunger, but not one that she’s familiar with.
“You two better not be doing anything funny in there!” Miko hollers from the living room. “Well, you better not be doing anything funny, Shiori, Hinako would never.”
Shiori looks amused, even as she tucks a stray strand of hair behind Hinako’s ear.
“Why, feeling left out?”
“No!” Miko bursts back into the bathroom, red-faced and looks appalled at their proximity. She rushes forward to grab Hinako’s empty hand, her palm warm against Hinako’s skin. “Stop corrupting Hinako! And get out here already, the food’s getting cold.”
Miko half-drags, half-carries her to the bathroom’s threshold, smelling like fried chicken. Hinako allows herself to be led until she’s lingering on the doorstep.
She spares her reflection one last glance and wonders if it’s a trick of the light, or if she really does look a shade or two brighter.
“Well, shall we?” Shiori asks, grabbing her other empty palm and interlacing their fingers.
And with Shiori and Miko each holding a hand, Hinako turns from the mirror and goes.