Halloween night
Yamamoto Sayaka/Miyawaki Sakura, Watanabe Mayu, Muto Tomu, Yokoyama Yui, Matsui Jurina, Sashihara Rino, Kashiwagi Yuki, Kitahara Rie
Crack, G
A/N: Very based on the Halloween night PV!
“Hi, my little clown,” a familiar voice speaks against Sakura's ear, purposefully in a deeper tone and she has an idea who it is even before she turns around. Despite the pale foundation and the large amount of black around her eyes, the blue on her cheeks, Sayaka is still recognizable and looks very much alive.
“Hello sir,” she replies with a giggle – Sayaka is dressed up as an undead knight. She perfects the flirty smirk as she joins Sakura by the bar, then looks up at their surroundings, as if suspicious of everyone around them.
“No gentlemen that I need to take care of?” She exaggerates the movement of her hand as she places it on the handle of her fake sword, pulls it out of the hilt just a few centimetres.
“If they were gentlemen, I wouldn't mind.” Sakura feels a hand on her waist, pulling her closer towards Sayaka as if protecting her.
“Maybe I would mind,” and the words are spoken next to her ear again; Sakura swears she feels the light brush of lips against her earlobe. “You shouldn't even be at a club, should you?”
It is true. Sakura isn't even 18 yet, and to be honest, she wouldn't have come unless Sayaka had suggested that she come with her and a couple of their friends. But she's there, she's having fun, and Sayaka of all people shouldn't be asking her that.
“You're drunk,” she decides to answer, which is at least half true. “You're drunk and they're not going to check me anyway.”
“Hmm, yeah, you're right about that.” Sayaka accepts the answer easily, before she leans away and over the bar counter, calling for the bartender's attention. “A beer for me and a...” she glances at Sakura, “a Shirley Temple for the lady.”
Sakura can't help but laugh, because Sayaka is so obviously playing it up some extra, finishing her order with an almost arrogant nod towards the bartender before she leans back, a satisfied smile on her pale face.
“Don't worry, the drink's on me.” She's kind of close, and holds the eye-contact for so long that Sakura nearly thinks she might actually kiss her. Of course she doesn't, instead laughs and turns away just in time to receive their beverages, and for some reason, Sakura finds that she's a little disappointed. Sayaka is pretty, she's fierce on stage, full of confidence, but also gentle and fun, easy to be with. A great friend, yes, but there's also a curiosity inside of Sakura. Maybe it's the warmth of the hand on her waist, squeezing a little once in a while, maybe it's how the dark make-up makes her eyes look darker than usual, or maybe it's just a Sayaka thing.
But she waves those thoughts away, instead reaches for her drink after a second of hesitation. It's bright red, lighter than her tulle skirt but still kind of matching. A colorful cocktail.
“It's non-alcoholic,” Sayaka tells her, probably noticing the hesitation, and Sakura nods thankfully. Just being at the club could get her in enough trouble - she doesn't want to drink on top of that. Drinking can wait. Watching Sayaka part her lips against her glass and let the beer flow into her mouth is definitely good enough; the way her eyes close as she relishes the taste is something she almost wants to take a picture of because really, she's sure her fans would love to see it.
By the time the clock is about to hit midnight they have had another drink while chatting about this and that, danced with friends (carefully avoiding Sashihara's quite huge wings), and when Sakura heads for the bathroom Sayaka is following her closely, glaring at everyone who lays an eye on Sakura's stay-ups, hand again on the handle of her sword.
“You're giving off a pirate-vibe rather than a knight, you know,” Sakura points out as they pass through the door, is a little startled as she catches her own face in the mirror, remembers what she's looking like. From nose and up she's painted whiter than Sayaka is, dark dip-liner in precise lines around her eyes, streaks of it coming down from her left eye and two drop shapes above and below the other. The black on her lips is a little smudged from drinking, but she'll touch it up in a minute.
“A pirate, aye?” Sayaka speaks louder, pretends to be drunker than she is. “Careful, lass, or I might ravage you in one of them stalls!” Again, Sakura laughs at her, leaves Sayaka to her own, and when she comes back, she has pulled her sword and is posing playfully before the full-body mirrors.
“You're so handsome,” she jokes as she washes her hands, leans closer to the mirror to check on her make-up. It's odd, though, because what had been smudged when she entered the restroom is now perfect and in place. When she tries to smudge it with a fingertip, it won't work, either. It's stuck. In slight shock she turns around to look at Sayaka, who seems to have been watching her through the mirror. She looks even paler than before, or perhaps more... blue-ish, and her sword shinier.
“Sayaka, is that...” Sakura points to the sword, watches as Sayaka lifts it, feels the sharp side of it with one finger; her breath hitches and when she lowers the weapon again, there's a thin, red line on her skin. She stares at it for a second, then slowly, slowly puts her sword back into its hilt before she takes a couple of hurried steps over to the mirrors, desperately tries to wipe away the make-up from her face, but like Sakura's it won't budge.
“What happened?” Sakura whispers as Sayaka pulls on her wrist, makes her turn to face her, then lifts a cold hand to try and smudge the black drop shape from Sakura's cheek. When it doesn't work she tries with her lower lip, rubs it softly, but just like the rest of her make-up it stays the way it is, as though it's under her skin.
“I don't know,” she mumbles back, with a strange smirk, “but I'm a female undead knight and it's super cool.”
Sakura wants to roll her eyes and shove her away, but the next thing she feels is cool lips on her own, and although Sayaka's low body temperature makes it odd, she gives in immediately, kisses her back while trying not to seem too eager. It's difficult though, when Sayaka is all up against her, one hand firm on her waist again, taking control but staying gentle, and all only reason they break apart so quickly is because they hear a high-pitched scream from outside the restroom before Mayu comes rushing in, clearly panicking.
“She cracked me, she cracked my head,” she cries, tearless, and when she manages to stand still for long enough Sakura sees the crack in her forehead. Her skin has turned into porcelain and someone has broken it. “Does any of you have glue?”
“Mayuyu,” Sayaka speaks up, “I know literally no one who would walk around with glue in their pockets. Who cracked you?”
“Sasshi, with her stupid wings!” Mayu keeps a hand on the crack as she speaks, as if afraid her head is going to fall apart.
“Come, let's go out and ask the staff for glue?” Sayaka tries, pats her carefully on the shoulder.
“I'm not going out there again, no way. They'll break my entire body. Go see it for yourself.”
They promise Mayu to come back with something to help her, even if Sakura suspects duct tape is the only thing close to useful they'll find, and when they exit the restroom, they instantly understand what she had meant when she refused to go back out. It's a mild chaos; looks like they aren't the only ones stuck in their costumes, and Sakura suddenly feels like this isn't such a good idea at all.
“Maybe I should keep Mayuyu company?” she tries, but Sayaka insists that it's dangerous to go alone. “But Tomu is a wolf, what if she comes after me?”
“I'll protect you,” and even though the chivalrous tone in Sayaka's voice is mostly for fun, it feels strangely comforting to hear.
They're barely halfway across the dance floor when someone knocks on Sakura's shoulder; she flinches, jumps into Sayaka's back, but whoever it is has a strong hold on her arm and pulls her around, places a hand on the side of her head, baring her neck. It all happens so quick that Sakura doesn't catch the face of the woman, but she recognizes the steampunk wings she does see. It has to be Yui, in her modernized Dracula costume.
“Yuihan,” Sayaka growls, sword drawn, frighteningly close to Sakura's face, “back off.”
“Will you duel with me?” Yui suggests, like she's actually being serious about drinking her blood. “The winner gets the pretty clown.”
“I'm on,” Sayaka retorts, and they both shove Sakura aside to stare at each other, sword and teeth bared as if ready to strike.
Luckily they're interrupted, from above. Jurina comes down from the roof, hanging by a thin, strong thread; she shoots another one out towards Yui, wraps it around her once she's down on the floor, then disappears into a corner with Yui close behind.
“What. Was that?”
“I have no idea, but I think Yuihan got stuck in a spider web.”
Sayaka shrugs. “Less work for us, I guess.”
In search of club staff they finally arrive at the bar, but the bartender is nowhere to be seen. The bar counter is occupied by Sashihara, sat on top of it looking out at the chaos like she's the queen of the world; very realistic wings flapping fiercely whenever someone approaches her. She wears a satisfied smirk on her face when she catches the two of them looking at her, as if they're peasants unworthy of her attention.
“Damn it,” someone swears to Sakura's left, and she's not entirely surprised when she sees that it's Yuki (and that she's not very happy about the situation). “Sasshi, turn everything back already, Tomu looks like she's about to eat Takamina any minute and we at least have to let her graduate properly!”
Sashihara seems to be ignoring her, instead sends a flash of light from her fingertip into the crowd – the sound of a whimpering animal hints that she might have hit Tomu. The next thing to rush by is Miyuki, a lot fluffier than usual, bunny ears attached to her actual head, and yes, Tomu is now hunting her instead of Takamina.
“Rabbits are quick,” Sashihara sing-songs before Yuki has even voiced her new complaint. “You should know, huntress.”
“I don't hunt,” she retorts, because she's a tamer, nothing else, but Sashihara has already turned her eyes away.
“Uhm, Yukirin...” Sakura tries carefully, as Yuki seems quite irritated. “Is it Sasshi that did all this?”
“She's the witch, of course she did. She decides everything now that she's the center!”
“Okay,” Sayaka cuts in, “we kind of don't want to stay clowns and undead knights forever. I mean I could be an undead knight for a little while longer but,” Sakura glares at her, “but we would prefer to be normal. I mean I can't possibly be an undead knight singer-songwriter, you know?”
Yuki seems to not know whether to laugh or judge, but she is listening. “And you want me to do what?”
“You don't think you could... convince Sasshi to lift the spell?” Sayaka whispers the last part, like Sakura isn't supposed to hear, but it's fully audible and Sakura rolls her eyes because she knows exactly what she's talking about. “I mean, you have the assets...”
That's a challenge Yuki won't turn down. She asks Sayaka to tighten her corset, pulls it down just a little to reveal more of her cleavage, before she heads over to the bar counter, sits on top of it next to Sashihara; skillfully ducks when she beats her wings, and as she leans in to whisper into her ear she seems to have her attention immediately.
“Let's search for glue,” Sayaka hisses, and they cross the bar counter while Sashihara isn't looking. From there it's easy to go behind the scenes of the club, to the supplies, where they find one scared bartender that refuses to communicate with them, so they rummage through the cupboards on their own instead.
“Found something!” Sakura triumphantly holds up a yellow tube, Sayaka cheers as she waves her sword around (and puts it back in its hilt when she almost gets it stuck in an open cupboard door).
As they head back into the club it's slightly calmer; Tomu, for example, is no longer chasing Miyuki, but the only reason is because she's gnawing on one of Haruka's skeleton arms instead. Sashihara has a hand in Yuki's hair, her lips moving in what must be low words while Yuki's face is hid against her neck, most likely nipping on it with her teeth, if judging by how Sashihara's eyes keep fluttering shut in a way that has nothing to do with her heavy lashes. It's easy to sneak past them, and as Yui is nowhere to be seen they're back in the restroom within a matter of minutes.
“Mayuyu, we got the glue!” Sakura shouts happily, but what greets her is not Mayu's face, but that of Rie, who comes out of an open stall.
“The lass is fine,” she speaks slyly, “I barely touched 'er, mark my words.” Rie stumbles out of there, hand on her pirate sword as she passes Sayaka, but they say nothing more. Sakura hurries over to the stall, finds Mayu sitting inside, staring up at her with glassy eyes, but she seems strangely in order.
“She tried to take my money,” she explains, “but I didn't bring any. I don't buy me drinks, others do. Now give me that glue.” She takes the tube out of Sakura's hand, steps out of the stall to one of the mirrors by the make-up tables and once she starts her task, there seems to be nothing else on her mind.
“This is crazy,” Sakura mumbles, more to herself than to anyone else, but there's an agreeing hum against her cheek as Sayaka wraps arms around her from behind; she can't be bothered to try to deny that she enjoys the closeness, instead just leans back into the embrace because really, this isn't going to make anything any crazier. Not even Sayaka finding her lips again, pressing against them in a soft kiss that she gladly responds to. She's still cold, undead, but it changes the longer they stay connected, and when they break apart, she is back at her usual body temperature. Sakura laughs when she sees her own black lipstick smeared on Sayaka's lips, receives the same treatment since she can't be looking much better.
“I think Yukirin succeeded,” Sayaka whispers with a curious smile, and her theory is confirmed as Mayu swears over the super glue stuck to her uncracked human forehead.