Memorandum

by angstwithtea

Memorandum (definition): a note or record made for later use; a memo. It's kind of an odd choice of name for the newest LGBTQ club to pop up in a crowded city. But it does fit the place's purpose... sort of. (Hanji x Nanaba)

Don't mind me, I'm just leaving this here to amuse you while I ignore my responsibilities.

This fanfiction has been ghost of an idea in the back of my mind for a while. I started shipping Hanji and Nanaba (Hanaba? Can we call it that?) a while back. Like, a year ago. And I was pretty sure that no one else did. In fact, I'm still pretty sure that no one does. Not really no one, just barely anyone. But a few months back, I accidentally made a few people aware of it via Instagram and now they ship it too. So if I can make a contribution to this pairings tiny, barely existent fandom... great.

This story was originally supposed to be a one-shot, but nothing I write ever turns out that way, because I am way too fucking wordy. So I had to pull a Deathly Hallows and split it into two parts. Maybe three, if I feel like it.

*wicked laughter*

It was also partially inspired by a music video, the one for She Likes Girls by Metro Station. Yeah, it's kind of weird to watch, what with all the porn faces and everything (That face girls make where they look kind of expressionless and maybe a little high. Basically a half-asleep duckface. Straight dudes think it looks sexy or something.), but the song is pretty good. I listened to it a million times over while writing this.

Then switched to Lorde and Halsey because it fit the actual theme of the story better.

ANYWAY, MOVING ON.

If you like this story, leave a comment. Also follow me on Tumblr at the-angstiest-author. And if anyone wants to post anything about this story- literally anything- tag your post with "fic: memorandum." As small as this ship is, it's always possible that there are a few people on it other than me.

---

"You guys still want to do this, right?"

Those were the first words out of Hanji's mouth when she set eyes on the neon signs of the club that, for some reason, she thought it would be a good idea to go to that night.

"It was your idea in the first place," Levi said flatly, casting her a flippant backward glare. "It's too late for us to back out now, anyway. We've been in line for almost half an hour."

"I don't want to back out. I'm just making sure you two are still in on it."

Hanji shivered, even though the late summer night was a tad warm for her tastes. She was beyond excited to get in, but her frayed nerves just about cancelled the feeling out. She didn't think that she could have felt so out of her element when she was... well, she was basically swimming in it.

Hanji had been no angel in her past four years of college. She had gone clubbing countless times before. She'd done it in every way imaginable; alone, dragging friends along, sneaking past the bouncer, flashing a fake ID, and finally legally entering, once she was old enough. It had always been the same deal, no matter where she went. Loud music, overpriced drinks, and tons of grinding. It had never been anything more than that. But this time, things felt... different.

Hanji was standing in a crowd of people tightly packed into a line between a wall and a velvet rope. The stream of people stretched back further than she could see, almost to the other end of the block. She was sandwiched between her two closest friends, Levi ahead of her and Erwin at her back. A few dozen feet ahead was a doorway lit with a rainbow of neon lights. Fog machine smoke spilled through, ankle-deep. The sign above glowed black and violet.

Memorandum. This place was called Memorandum, it had been open for a month, and that was literally all that any of them knew about it.

"This is one hell of an entrance they've set up," Erwin said. A few people passed through the door ahead of them. One glanced back at their group. A pair of limpid blue eyes caught Hanji's before disappearing inside. "Looks like they attract our kind of people."

Hanji ignored his remarks and pulled at the hems of her high-waisted shorts. She didn't know why she had decided to wear them. They never fit her crotch right. She knew she would be tugging them out of her asscrack all night, but... fuck it. They matched her fishnets, and damn, they made her ass look hot. Most importantly, she felt like being a girl tonight. These shorts, for all their inconveniences, actually made her look the part.

"Having second thoughts, shit-glasses?" Levi asked.

"No," Hanji spat. "It's just been a while since I last did this."

"Why did you want to go someplace new if you're so worried about your club skills being rusty?"

"Alright, maybe I was a little desperate." She paused, Levi stared at her, and she admitted, "And short on cash. There. I said it, okay?"

"If I remember correctly, you were the one who wanted to come here in the first place. Which one of us is supposed to be the adventurous one, again?"

"Maybe the one who likes to get into freshmen's pants," Hanji spat defensively. Levi glared at her, but quickly returned to staring impatiently at the entrance. Hanji smirked. If anything, she wasn't wrong.

"If we don't like it when we get in, we can always just leave," Erwin pointed out. Hanji glanced back at him, and he added, "I'm a little nervous too, if that helps."

Hanji sighed and pulled her leather jacket tighter around her shoulders. "I'm not nervous. This place just seems a little different from the other ones I've been to."

Levi turned around to stare at her again, looking almost surprised. "So, in all of the time that you've spent sneaking into these places, you've never been to a freshly opened gay club?"

Hanji thought back to every club she'd ever been through. Gay, yes. Lesbian, yes. Drag, strip, rave, cosplay. Yes, yes, yes and yes. BDSM was still untouched, but she wasn't sure how long it would stay that way. "Yeah, I have. But gay supposedly isn't the only base that this place has covered."

Memorandum, as far as Hanji knew was not just a gay club. It was an everything was what the internet ad had told her, as well as the website that she had seen, even when it was still under construction. She called Levi as soon as she saw it, then Erwin a day later, and all the rest had taken weeks to fall into place.

It had been almost an entire season since Hanji had started working her day job as a surgical nurse at the second-largest hospital in the city. She had earned her nursing degree from a semi-prestigious city university back in May, applied for the job in June, then received her acceptance email sometime in July. It was a huge step up in her life, and she had been so excited to get started. She bought a small apartment with the leftover scraps of her savings and salary from the internships she'd had through college, and had felt so ready to start living on her own.

It didn't take long for those feelings to die, though.

Hanji wouldn't even try to deny that being an adult was a lot harder than she expected. Sure, it was fun to get paid to work with blood and guts and watch people get cut open. What Hanji hadn't expected, though, were the long hours, the stress and, most importantly, how long her salary would take to start pouring in. Budgeting rent, taxes and food expenses had deprived her of most of the indulgences that she used to enjoy and more than a few of her prized possessions getting auctioned off on eBay for extra spending cash. When she had seen the Memorandum ad, it had just been too tempting. New places were always cheap to get into. She wouldn't have to buy drinks if she didn't need them. She missed her old reckless life. She needed this.

Now, with about half the wardrobe she used to own and thirty-six hours until her next grueling shift, she was allowed to be her old self again for one night.

Levi hadn't taken long to convince. Hanji had been dragging him into things since halfway through high school. It was nothing new for either of them. Even with Levi's (alleged) relationship with a first-year student who had started his college education just as they were ending theirs, Hanji hadn't heard anything about her bestie whisking the boy away to some romantic getaway to drink in the last dregs of the summer.

Erwin's case had been a bit more difficult. He was years older than the other two, having completed a master's degree in History and holding a steady job as an AP high school teacher for the past three years. He was almost thirty, nearly old enough to have outgrown this sort of thing. But, with a bit of pushing and manipulation, Hanji managed to dredge up just enough nostalgia to win him over.

"Next in line, please!"

Hanji snapped to attention. "Shit. That's us, isn't it?"

The line had moved ahead while she was daydreaming, and now there was a full four feet of space between them and the bouncer. They rushed forward as a unit, Levi leading the way as he fished his driver's license out of his pocket. He flashed it at the man standing at the door, who nodded and waved him away.

Hanji stepped forward, absently digging for her wallet the tiny over-the-shoulder clutch that she had brought with her. She opened the snap on the side to reveal the clear plastic window that displayed her name, information and last year's photo of her 21-year-old face. The bouncer looked it over, shined a flashlight at the card, then at her face. Finally he seemed satisfied and put his hand out to collect the $10 entry fee. Hanji begrudgingly handed it over, and the bouncer directed her forward.

"You looked too excited," Levi pointed out as Hanji joined him in the entryway to wait for Erwin. "No one is going to take you seriously if you have 'I'm-underage-and-sneaking-into-a-club' written all over your face."

"Well, I'm sorry I haven't been afflicted with Resting Bitch Face like you have," Hanji tossed back. As soon as she finished her sentence, Erwin stepped past the rope and joined them.

Hanji took a breath as her boots disappeared into the manufactured fog at the entrance. No going back now.

---

They were next in line. The lights were blinding, and the fog at the entrance was swirling around their chunky-heeled shoes. The bouncer flicked the beam of his flashlight back and forth between the ID photo and the face of the guest ahead of them, then waved him onward into the foggy darkness of Memorandum.

Nanaba turned to face Mike. "Why do you keep bringing me here?"

"I don't keep bringing you here. This is only the second time we've gone," Mike replied while digging in his pocket for his driver's license. He kept talking as he held it up for the bouncer to see. "It'll be better this time, I swear."

"I thought we decided last time that the place was a dead end."

"That's because it didn't have any publicity. No one knew it was here." He stepped past the bouncer, whose facial expression had become significantly more annoyed since Nanaba had started talking. "It's new. Just give it another chance."

"Fine." Nanaba's ID was quickly examined, the bouncer's flashlight briefly blinded them, and they were waved forward, just like the last few patrons. "Why do you have so much faith in this place, anyway?" They asked once they were out of the bouncer's scope of hearing.

"Because it was made for our kind of people," was Mike's simple reply.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Just look at the line. They're everywhere."

Nanaba glanced back at the sea of people behind them. The crowd didn't look much different from the ones that waited outside every other club they had seen. True, they didn't have much to compare it to, since clubbing wasn't something that Nanaba did very often. In fact, socializing in general wasn't something that Nanaba did very often. The only reason they were here was because of Mike.

Mike, the strong, silent and seductive. Mike, the man with uncanny people skills. Mike, the guy who could somehow charm the pants off of people without even trying. Nanaba never understood how the hell any of it worked. The two of them hardly acted any different in social settings.

Maybe it's my face, Nanaba thought. They felt a hand on their shoulder. "Come on. We're holding up the line."

Nanaba's feet felt heavy, but they begrudgingly turned around and kept walking. This place had been a monster letdown last time. Still, Mike thought it had some promise to it. Nanaba glanced over their shoulder one last time for good measure. There was a girl standing somewhere in the crowd. For a split second their eyes met, and Nanaba was staring at two huge, chestnut-brown marbles that were practically boiling over with energy. Then they turned a corner, and the street outside faded into darkness.

Nanaba stayed close to Mike as the entire world around them turned into a blur of lights and a deafening symphony of bass and conversation. The scene at Memorandum was a far cry from the one that they had seen the last time they had been here. The dance floor, the bar with its glossy black tabletop and platinum stools, the low, scattered seating arrangement, and even the upper level balcony were all stocked with strangers.

"You were right," Nanaba said into Mike's ear, straining to be heard over the music. "This place is way more lively than last time."

Mike laughed. "What did I tell you? And you were already calling this place a dead end."

"I didn't mean it that way," they said defensively. "I got bored last time. Nothing was happening."

"Well, nothing happens at these places if you don't make it happen."

Nanaba rolled their eyes and let Mike sit them down at the bar. A tall, curvy bartender in a latex corset slunk over to them on a pair of stilettos that definitely weren't necessary. "Anything I can get you two?"

Miked turned to Nanaba. "First drink of the night on me?" he asked coyly.

"You know I can't afford for it to be any other way," Nanaba replied. Mike went ahead and ordered two whiskey sours, then went about quietly observing the bartender while the drinks were mixed.

With the drinks taken care of, Nanaba stopped paying attention. They spun around in the barstool to survey the rest of the club. The night was still young, and people were entering in a steady stream. Nanaba's feet started nervously tapping against the footrest. As long as they didn't get roofied, everything would be fine, but even that much wouldn't be guaranteed.

Nanaba wasn't the kind of person to go searching for attention. In fact, they avoided it more than anything else. They had an odd talent for fading into the background. They did it so skillfully that whenever they so much as spoke, it was a shock to everyone around them. In fact, it was that shock that had led them to living with Mike in the first place. Nanaba should have been expecting it, really. When a person's parents are so used to their daughter being quiet and submissive, sudden outbursts of actual sentience tend to have an adverse effect or two.

Nanaba had never been to a club before Mike had started bringing them into the scene. They weren't a social person. They were perfectly content to be by themselves, so long as they had a book or computer on hand to keep them busy. But, with nothing but a poorly-earning job at Barnes and Noble and a crippling amount of student loans, they couldn't afford that kind of lifestyle. And if they wanted to live with Mike, they would have to put up with his attempts to "help" them adjust to their new identity.

Clubbing had seemed fun at first. Nanaba's attitude quickly turned around when they discovered exactly how social the club scene was supposed to be. Now the activity was nothing more than sitting in a loud, poorly lit room with a drink in their hand, waiting until it felt like an appropriate time to find Mike and tell him they wanted to leave.

Nanaba's stream of thought was interrupted by the bartender sliding one whiskey sour in their direction and flirtatiously asking Mike if he liked what he saw. Nanaba told Mike that they were going to take a look around and left the bar to see if there was anything of note happening somewhere else in the club. They felt a pressing need to keep their drink close as they walked. The space was starting to feel crowded, and Nanaba had the nagging feeling that it would get knocked out of their hand. They fought their way upstairs to the balcony and found an empty pod chair to sit in.

Time crawled from that point onwards. Nanaba watched from the balcony railing as the club filled with people, taking a sip from their whiskey sour every few minutes. The bar was within their field of vision, and they glanced back at it every once in a while to see what Mike was up to. He spent a relatively long time talking to the bartender, but eventually she had more work to do and he left the bar to scout out entertainment elsewhere.

Nanaba shifted around in their seat. Mike was the only familiar face in this hellhole. They were itching to know where he had gone. Besides, their cocktail was empty, and they were nowhere near drunk enough to feel comfortable where they were.

Nanaba stood up and checked their wallet. They had a little over $30. That would be enough to cover two more drinks, three if they were lucky. Leaving the sour glass for someone else to clean up, they headed downstairs.

When Nanaba returned to the bar, Mike was still nowhere to be seen. The crowd was twice as thick on the first floor as it was on the second, and the proximity made Nanaba twitch. Mike had to be around here somewhere. He couldn't have found someone to run off with already.

He couldn't have left them alone here.

The corseted bartender from before traipsed up to the glossy black tabletop. "Back for more, sweetheart?" she purred, pushing a tumble of dark, wavy hair over her shoulder. It was probably black, but looked almost purple in Memorandum's tinted lights.

"What's the cheapest thing you've got in a glass?" Nanaba asked.

"I could get you something on the rocks, if you like. Can't promise it'll taste good, though," the bartender replied. "You want to see a menu?"

"That would help. Thanks."

The bartender looked Nanaba up and down for a second longer before turning around to return to the shelves behind the bar. It was something Nanaba was used to. People, for the most part, expected everyone they saw to have a distinctive gender of some kind. It would only make sense that the first time anyone saw them, they would try and figure it out for themselves without having to ask that one rude, glaring question.

Are you a boy or a girl?

The bartender placed a laminated sheet in front of them. "If you see anything you like, just catch my attention again. The name is Olivia, by the way."

"Thanks," Nanaba replied, and Olivia gave them another once-over before tending to the other customers.

Nanaba stared at the menu for a few seconds. Drinks at clubs were always so expensive. At least there was a range here, between $8 and $22 a glass. They decided on a scotch and soda and looked up from the menu to see that the space behind the bar was empty. Olivia was a few stools away, chatting with someone else.

"Hey. Can I help you?"

Nanaba's attention was pulled forward again. A new bartender stood in front of them, sporting a vest, a bleach-blonde mohawk, and hands poised assertively on a set of narrow hips. Nanaba shakily shook their head. "I-I'm still looking."

It was a lie, but their nerves kept the truth from coming out. Besides, Olivia had said she would cover it. They didn't want to disappoint her.

The bartender nodded and replied with a simple "Alright" before wandering off. Nanaba exhaled, feeling disillusioned. They didn't know what they felt so panicked about. The bartender had been asking a simple question. It was one that the job required. And Olivia wasn't dedicated to them. If another bartender mixed their drink, she wouldn't care.

Damn it, why do you always do this? Nanaba thought just as they heard a set of acrylic nails tapping on the marble bar. They looked up, and Olivia was standing nearby again.

"You pick your poison yet, sweetheart?" she asked.

"Yeah. Scotch and soda, please."

"Do you want to start a tab?"

"No. I'll just pay up-front." They slid a $10 bill across the bar.

"Alright," Olivia said with a smile. She took the money, turned around and was back in a minute with the cocktail in one hand and Nanaba's change in the other. She slid both across the bar, and Nanaba briefly spazzed to catch both at once. Olivia giggled. "Now, I don't mean to be unprofessional, but you are really cute."

"Thanks," Nanaba said shyly. They took a sip from their drink to steady themselves.

"What's your name?"

"Nanaba."

A smile drew up Olivia's dark merlot lips. "Nanaba. That's really pretty." After a second, she asked, "Not to pry, but... what kind of name is that?"

"It's one I made up," Nanaba replied flatly. They drowned the rest of their words with another sip of scotch.

"Oh." Olivia's smile faded. "Well... let me know if you need anything else."

Nanaba kept their eyes on the bar until they heard Olivia's stilettos click out of earshot. They turned around on their barstool to look out at the faces in the crowd. Mike had to be somewhere out there. He couldn't have disappeared on them.

They could go out to look for him. That was always in the realm of possibility. But then, Nanaba had already gotten comfortable at the bar. Olivia seemed friendly enough. They really couldn't be bothered to move. At least Mike would know where to find them if he needed to. And from the bar, they had a relatively good view of the rest of the club. The sea of people on the dance floor was always fun to watch. Memorandum's crowd looked a little more intoxicated than most, but it only made the show all the more fun to watch. There was way too much grinding, too many white girls attempting to twerk, most people jumping and swaying to the music, a few making out- oh, and there was Mike.

He was standing with some stranger that Nanaba could have sworn they had never seen before. They appeared to be a man, but the lighting was a too screwy to tell. Nanaba could make out blonde hair, a height a few inches less than Mike's, and a tight, printed buttondown with rolled sleeves stretched over some seriously ripped arms. He was shouting over the music, words that they couldn't hear, and Mike was shouting back at him, a blazing, bright smile creasing both their faces. The stranger turned towards some other people in the crowd that Nanaba couldn't see, said a few words they couldn't hear, then his attention was turned back toward Mike.

Nanaba sighed and went back to their drink. Mike seemed to be having a good time. Maybe if they got drunk enough, they could too.

Two people broke free from the crowd and raced toward the bar while Nanaba was distracted. They took up two of the closest seats and one of them waved to get a bartender's attention. "Hey! Two lemon drops, over here!"

Nanaba glanced over at the two new arrivals. They appeared to be a guy and a girl. Oddly, the guy was considerably the shorter of the two, dressed in tight dark jeans, a tee shirt with some misty, abstract design, and a black leather vest. He stared straight ahead, seemingly dead to the world, and, if Nanaba wasn't mistaken, his sharp, empty eyes were rimmed with eyeliner. Something told them that this guy wasn't there to make new friends. They made an immediate mental note not to try it. But the girl...

She was sitting one seat closer to Nanaba than her friend, and it was a fact that they were thankful for. The girl seemed to be the polar opposite of her friend. Her large brown eyes were wide with energy, shielded behind thick prescription glasses. A mass of mahogany hair tumbled over her shoulders, and Nanaba's eyes followed its gentle wave over her shoulders, then further down, taking in her black velvet choker, printed bustier top, the burgundy leather jacket tied around her hips, and the faded grey high-waisted shorts that led to legs sporting black fishnets and knee-high pleather boots.

"Hey."

Nanaba startled at the sudden sound of a nearby voice. They looked up to see that the girl's gaze had focused on them. She smiled. "Like the boots? They're not new. I just barely wear them."

Nanaba tore their gaze away from her and looked in the other direction, hoping that there would be someone else that the stranger was talking to, and that they could make their nerves stop fizzling. In a second, their eyes were exactly where they had started. Nanaba sighed. Damn. it, stop staring.

"This place is pretty sweet, isn't it?"

"This place is pretty sweet, isn't it?"

Those eyes. Behind those big chunky glasses, deep brown doe eyes that were boiling over with excitement. They couldn't shake the feeling that they had seen them before.

"I guess it is," Nanaba mumbled, sure that the stranger hadn't been able to hear them.

Surprisingly, she had. "It's my first time here," she said gleefully. "Is it yours?"

Nanaba took another sip from their scotch and shook their head. "No."

---

Hanji couldn't see her feet in all the fog that swirled around her ankles in the dark entryway. It soaked up the colors of the glimmering lights around them, buried somewhere between the walls and floor. A few seconds later, the tunnel gave way to an open space. The sight of it made adrenaline spill into Hanji's blood.

The inside of Memorandum was massive. Two floors, already populated with strangers, posed before her, waiting to be conquered by her and her small semi-squad. The first level was made up of the basic club attractions; a bar, an expansive dance floor, strobes, black lights, and dark corners that might come in handy later that night. Three silver spiral staircases bridged the gap between levels, leading up to a balcony covered in pod chairs, barstools and tables low and high, for those who needed a break from the energy on the first floor. The dance floor sloped up into a stage, like a pyramid with the tip sanded down, and the DJ booth was built into the wall behind it. The music they played was deafening. Bass shook the building's foundations, and the lyrics echoed in Hanji's ears.

Hanji's pace quickened. She spun around and grabbed Levi by the arm. "Come on. Let's look around."

"Whoa, whoa, slow down," Levi protested, but nothing could stop Hanji from dragging him into the dead center of the club, Erwin following close behind. The three of them wandered around the entire space, Hanji leading the way and the others chasing after her. First she wanted to scout out the dance floor, then the stage, then the bar, the balcony and the cages interspersed through the club where people of every shape and gender danced within the platinum bars. Levi managed to flag her down for a few minutes on the balcony, bringing her escapade to a stop just long enough to work out a plan.

"Why do we need a plan?" she asked as soon as the word plan entered the conversation. "You're supposed to wing it. That's the entire point of clubbing."

"And that's also how you almost got drugged," Levi reminded her.

Hanji glared at him, wide-eyed and embarrassed. "T-that was only once!"

"He does have a point," Erwin agreed. "We should at least be careful. This place is filling up as we speak."

Hanji looked back and forth between them, then, once she realized that neither man would be changing his stance, put on a pouty face and sank down into a pod chair. "Fine. What do you want me to do?"

"We should probably stay together, for one thing," Levi said first. "And we should probably head to the bathroom at a few intervals, to make sure none of us overdoes it."

Hanji started complaining as soon as Levi started putting too many rules in place. In the end, Erwin mediated between them, and they settled on one basic game plan. Only two rules, and no exceptions.

One: Don't leave each other's' sight. If one person disappears, alert the others look for them.

Two: Don't put your drink down until you've finished it. That's all you need to remember.

"Okay. We have rules," Hanji said quickly. "Now let's get back downstairs. I want to dance!"

She didn't give even a second of warning before turning back toward the stairs and running ahead of the guys again. They trailed behind her to the edge of the dance floor. The crowd was thick, pulsating with movement, barely enough room to breathe between one person and the next. Hanji stopped just long enough to let Levi and Erwin catch up, then she took them both by the wrist and led them onto the floor in some kind of energized daisy-chain.

Hanji didn't mind the feeling of strangers crashing into her every few seconds. She simply kept her friends close, just as she had promised. She stood back to back with Erwin, writhing against him, arms above her head as she swiveled her hips to the music. Levi tried to keep his distance, at least until Hanji pulled him close as well, trying to drag him into the action. It took him longer to fall under the music's spell than it had for the other two, but he was dancing with them eventually.

Hanji took a deep breath, and her senses were overtaken by the heavy smell of sweat, perfume and chemicals in the air. It was intoxicating already. This was enough of a high for her. That didn't mean liquor was already down for the count, though. Maybe later, she thought.

Later arrived eventually. Either it was the current in the crowd, or someone getting tired and covertly moving the group to the dance floor's edge, but in time, they weren't in the thick of things anymore. They were close to the bar, where the crowd thinned out a little as people began to tire out and left to get drinks and replenish their confidence.

It was around then that a stranger joined the party.

Hanji couldn't see them all that well in the flashing kaleidoscope of lights on the floor. They were tall, that much was for sure. Probably a man, judging by their shape and clothing, but Hanji wasn't about to go jumping to any conclusions. He didn't speak much, and didn't say a word as he drew close to them. The crowd simply seemed to have pushed him into their group. That, and he seemed to be taking a particular interest in Erwin.

Hanji danced at Levi's side and watched her friend interacting with the stranger. They both swayed to the music, chest to chest, staring into one another's faces with just the faintest traces of recognition. They seemed to know each other, though Hanji had no memory of having seen the man before.

Suddenly, Erwin's eyes widened. He said something that Hanji couldn't make out. The stranger smiled warmly at him, leaned close and said something in return. A second later, Erwin was smiling back at him, the two of them pressed close to each other in the crowd, conversing in words that only they could hear. Hanji squinted through the semi-darkness, but she still couldn't remember who the stranger was that Erwin had somehow picked out in the crowd.

He answered that question easily enough when he took the other man by the arm and started backing away toward the edge of the floor. He gestured for the others to follow him. Hanji and Levi followed his lead. They gathered in a small pool of light between the dance floor and the bar.

"Hanji, Levi, you both remember Mike, right?" Erwin asked avidly as soon as the others were at his side again.

Hanji gazed at the man standing next to her friend. Now that she could see him clearly, he did seem kind of familiar. She'd seen that sandy blonde undercut with the weird center part before, the soft, short beard that looked more like he had forgotten to shave for about a week, and more than anything the narrow amber eyes that seemed so oddly inviting.

"I won't be surprised if you don't," he said, giving them a sheepish smile. "I can't expect much after disappearing for so long."

"Where have you been, anyway?" Erwin asked. It hit her then. This stranger had a name, and it was Mike Zacharius. He was one of Erwin's best friends back in college, a member of his graduating class that Hanji had lost track of over the years. He'd been an English major, she thought... or art history... or psychology... or... something along those lines.

"I've been everywhere, really," Mike explained. "I traveled for a little while, trying to see if anyone needed me anywhere. Couldn't stay away from this city, though. So I've got myself a nice setup with Tabula Rasa. I've made an assistant editor position, and there's been talk of me getting promoted to manager of my division."

Right, he was in journalism, Hanji recalled. He wanted to go freelance. I can't believe he 's settled in with one publisher. I wonder if he still writes his own pieces.

"Sounds like you've advanced pretty fast," she said. "How long have you been working with them?"

"Only two years, but I've been on a fast track from the start with them," Mike replied. "They're a little short-staffed when it comes to people who are willing to get personal with witnesses and interviews. I've always been told I'm good at getting people to talk." He smiled slyly and glanced in Erwin's direction.

The man laughed a little in response. "You dog. You haven't changed at all."

The both of them kept talking while Hanji slowly lost interest. Maybe it was the new setting that made her want to explore, or maybe that was just the way she had always been. Whatever the reason, her mind started wandering after the first few minutes, then her eyes, though she took care to look back at her friends on occasion. Levi seemed to be listening, but from what she could tell, he didn't seem that interested.

Hanji took his deadened expression as an invitation and landed a hand hard on his shoulder. "Hey, Levi, wanna grab some shots?"

"Shots? Now?" he asked suspiciously. "It seems kind of early to get inebriated. Even for you."

"I don't want to get inebriated," Hanji clarified. "I just wanna get a taste of this place."

"Then lick one of the dancers or something."

"Leviiiiiii," Hanji whimpered, sticking out her lower lip.

"Fine. Fine." Levi turned to the oldest of the three. "Did you hear what she was whining about, Erwin?"

"Not quite," he replied.

"She wants to get drinks. I'm supposed to come, apparently."

Erwin looked over their heads. The crowd was relatively thin where they stood, and the bar wasn't far at all, with only a few feet of wall space and a dancer in a cage to separate them. "I suppose it's alright. We'll be able to see you from here. One round and then we'll join you."

Hanji grinned madly, not failing to miss the 'we's in Erwin's sentences. "You know I couldn't afford it any other way!" she sang before turning on the blunt, shiny toe of her boot and galloping off through the crowd, leaving Levi to chase after her.

"Hanji. Hanji! Wait the fuck up! We talked about this!"

Hanji wasn't listening to him. She was already halfway to the bar. Only a few of the stools hadn't been taken yet, and she made a beeline for them. She pounced and landed on one, then gave it a quick experimental spin. Levi joined her a few seconds later.

"You're way to excited to be getting drunk," he grumbled as he sat down beside her.

"And you're a lot more pleasant when you are," she tossed back, then stuck her hand in the air to grab someone's attention. "Hey!" A tall, curvy bartender in a corset turned around and started in their direction. "Two lemon drops, over here!" she shouted, and the bartender nodded.

"Why are you ordering cocktails first? They're pretty much the most expensive things in the entire club," Levi pointed out.

"Not if they're shot-sized. At least they shouldn't be. And it's only one round. You remember what Erwin said."

Levi sighed and resigned himself to staring at the shelves of bottles behind the bar. Hanji leaned over and nudged his shoulder with her own. "Do you have to look like a depressed alcoholic when you start drinking?"

"It's not like I'm doing it on purpose," Levi said flatly. "I'm not a party drunk until I'm already drunk."

"I guess I can't really argue with your neurology."

"I didn't think so."

The conversation ended at that, so Hanji was left to her own devices again. She spun around on her stool and leaned back against the bar to look out at the vista of Memorandum. The club had proven itself to be pretty high-quality so far. She was glad that she had decided to go tonight. She wasn't sure how much longer this place would be within her price range.

The sound of weighted glass sliding across black granite caught her attention again. Hanji spun back to the bar to see the corseted bartender leaning against the other side and two tiny glasses of translucent yellowish liquid with granulated sugar around the rims. Hanji offered the bartender an ecstatic smile and "Thanks," and she smiled in return and slinked off. Hanji lifted one glass from the bar and pushed the other toward Levi.

"What should we toast to?" she asked.

"Does it even fucking matter?" he replied.

They tapped their shot glasses together and downed them. The sour shot swept through Hanji's mouth, her taste buds burning from the acid and liquor. She ran her tongue along the sugar-coated glass to take the edge off. She caught Levi doing the same thing and burst out laughing. He glared at her, and she spun her chair again to face away from him.

It was then that she realized she was being watched.

The stranger was sitting a stool away from her, a glass of amber liquid held between their pale, slender hands, keeping to themselves with their sleepy blue eyes gazing downward, somewhere between Hanji's face and the floor. They were definitely staring. Hanji wasn't bothered by it, didn't seem to be all that threatening.

She had to say they, obviously, because there was no determining this person's gender.

Hanji couldn't find any obvious giveaways. The stranger was thin and lanky, probably tall if they were standing. Hanji couldn't make out defined shoulders, a bust or hips, but even that much would have been hidden by their choice of clothing. They were dressed almost entirely in black, wearing a wildly oversized shirt over skin-tight black pants that could have been either leggings or skinny jeans. The chunky-heeled ankle boots could have been a hint of some kind, but even then, dudes in heels were nothing new to Hanji.

Hanji couldn't figure a thing out on her own, so she decided to do the next best thing. She licked another grain of sugar from her glass for luck and smiled at the stranger. "Hey."

As soon as the word had fallen off her lips, the stranger's eyes went wide and flew up to look at her face. Hanji stared back. Even their face seemed androgynous, thin and angular with a composed expression, framed by an undercut of hair that was probably blonde in normal light and probably wavy if it were allowed to grow out, half covered by a black felt fedora perched delicately on their head.

"Like the boots?" Hanji went on, even though the stranger hadn't said a word. "They're not new. I just barely wear them."

Suddenly, they looked away. They seemed almost embarrassed, even though their facial expression had hardly changed. I must have startled them.

As soon as the words crossed Hanji's mind, her eyes met with the stranger's again. They seemed familiar, though she wasn't sure why. Soft, the faded blue of old denim, and, though it wasn't obvious, a little anxious.

"This place is pretty sweet, isn't it?" Hanji continued.

"I guess it is," the stranger murmured shyly.

Finally, a response, Hanji thought with relief. "It's my first time here," she went on enthusiastically. "Is it yours?"

The stranger sipped their drink before replying. "No."

"Then why do you seem so nervous?"

---

Nanaba hadn't been expecting the conversation to carry on for this long.

They didn't talk to strangers. Strangers didn't talk to them, either. The relationship between them and the rest of the world was normally one of mutual avoidance. They would speak if spoken to, obviously, but they never went out of their way to interact.

Things like this never happened.

"I-I'm not nervous," Nanaba stammered.

The girl cocked her head to the side. "You sure?"

"Not really."

She looked at the drink in Nanaba's hands. "How many of those have you had?"

"Why are you asking?"

"No reason. Just curious."

"It's my second." A second later, they defensively added, "I don't do this very much. I'm not an addict, if that's what you were thinking."

"Don't worry, then," the girl explained. "The nerves will go away once you've had a few."

Nanaba didn't have a response for that. "Thanks... I guess," they murmured.

"How many times have you been here before?" the girl asked. She obviously had no intention of letting the conversation drop. "You said this wasn't your first."

"It's my second. I was here a few weeks ago. Last time there definitely weren't this many people."

"Hm. Not that surprising. It must have been open for... what, a week?"

Nanaba thought back to that night. "Probably."

"You say you've been here before, so..." The girl rested an elbow against the bar and leaned in close to them, a sleazy smile spreading across her face. "You come here often?"

Nanaba couldn't help laughing. They nearly spat out their drink, and a hand flew up to stop them from spraying scotch and soda all over the girl posing in front of them. She smirked. "Did I come on too strong?"

"N-no, I... I just..." Nanaba struggled to speak through uncontrollable giggles. "I... I can't flirt. I don't do flirting. I... I don't..."

"Who said anything about flirting?" the girl said. She rocked back on her barstool and crossed her legs. Nanaba's heart fluttered a little. She had no idea who this girl was, but something about her was so... inviting.

"Hey, Hanji, who's your new friend?"

Nanaba's head turned quickly towards the new voice. There was someone else that they hadn't seen before emerging from the crowd, a person rather tall, blonde, debonair and so handsome it almost pissed them off. And walking close behind them was Mike.

Mike? Nanaba's eyebrows rose slightly. What has he been doing all this time? The question got pushed aside, and conversation jump started without any effort from Nanaba.

"You said you would come get us after the first round. Don't you savages know how to keep a promise?" Mike joked, eyeing the empty shot glasses on the bar.

"We just finished the first round," Hanji said. "You assholes are just really impatient."

"And you really don't have any right to be calling anyone savages," Erwin added with a smirk and a gentle shove to Mike's side.

"Hey. No need to start dredging things up," Mike told him, though his expression was still light. "I'm not like that anymore. It's all in the past now."

"Next thing we know, you're going to start going on about how it was all just a phase, then in a few hours you're going to be dancing on and disappearing with some random-"

Mike cut him off, laughing. "Oi, Erwin, how old do you think I am?"

Erwin. So that was this stranger's name. Nanaba had a suspicion that he identified as a man.

As the scene processed in their head, Mike sidled up beside them and leaned against the bar. "So," he said, shooting them a glance. "What do you three say? Should the first round be on me or Erwin?"

All of a sudden, Hanji's eyes had gone wide, darting back and forth between Mike and Nanaba. "Wait a second. Do you two know each other?"

"Yeah, of course we do." Mike put an arm around Nanaba's shoulders. The contact with something familiar was a small comfort to them, and they leaned against him out of instinct. "This is Nanaba," he explained. "We live together."

"What? I can't believe this," Erwin blurted out. He looked close to bursting out laughing. "Mike Zacharius actually settled down?"

Nanaba stiffened at Erwin's words. They glanced over at Mike, who wore an expression of shock to match their own. "Huh? No, no, it's not like that. Not at all." He gave Nanaba's shoulders a friendly squeeze. "They're my roommate. An old friend. My ex-neighbor, really."

"Ex-neighbor?" Levi sounded skeptical. "How does that magic work?"

"We used to live in the same apartment building," Mike explained. "I lived a few doors down from them."

Nanaba remembered how it had happened all too clearly. Shaking, their father's roaring anger, their mother shrieking, the dishes flying across the room and shattering against the wall. Running out into the hall, and the first apartment that would answer to their frantic knocking... was his.

"Interesting way of putting it," Erwin said, intrigued. Then, all of a sudden, his clear blue eyes were on them. "So, Nanaba, what's it like living with him? I mean, I've had more than my fair share of it, but what is it like for you?"

"What's it like?" Nanaba stammered the question back at him. "It's, uh... it's okay. I have my own space, and I can afford the rent, since we're splitting it."

"That wasn't what I mean." A sly smile twitched on Erwin's lips. "I mean... has he ever brought anyone home? Any awkward encounters, you know?"

"I-I..." Nanaba felt their face flaring bright red. "I don't... I... I haven't..."
"No, Erwin, Nanaba has never accidentally run into anyone I've slept with," Mike finally cut in. A second later, he added, "At least not as far as I know."

"It was a lot of people."

"Shut up, Erwin."

"Why don't you make me?"

"Fine." Mike caught Olivia's attention, and she approached the lot of them in the corner of the bar. "Three redheaded sluts, and..." He looked to Hanji and Levi. "Anything I can do for you two?"

Immediately Hanji's eyes lit up. "I'll have what they're having," she said, pointing at Nanaba.

"Right, then. Make that four," Mike said, and Olivia nodded and returned to the shelf of liquors. Nanaba glanced at Mike. The third slut he was ordering must have been meant for them. It couldn't have been otherwise. Did he know that they'd already finished off two drinks, or did he think they were still running on the first whiskey sour? They couldn't be sure. And that was only one of many things they weren't sure of. For instance, whether or not they liked where all of this was headed.

Everyone started talking again. The shots arrived. Hanji slammed hers in a matter of seconds, then burst out laughing as soon as her mouth was empty. She slumped over to take a breath, and, by coincidence, her eyes met with Nanaba's. She smiled.

This is going to be a long night, Nanaba thought, and she drowned the words with a shot.

---

One round of shots was quickly followed up by another. Then another.

The music seemed to grow louder, the lights brighter, the conversations less and less coherent. As the empty glasses piled up, the world started to blur. The melody and bass were pounding in Hanji's skull, the lights dazzling in her eyes like a kaleidoscope. The alcohol in her system left her with a warm, fuzzy feeling smoldering in her stomach. She knew what the sensation meant. She'd had it before.

Hanji and Mike had somehow managed to lure the entire party out to the dance floor at once. She lost sight of her comrade not long after. Erwin, too. There was supposed to be a rule about that or something. She couldn't quite remember what it was. It probably didn't matter all that much, if no one had brought it up again. She was more concerned with the dizzy sensation in her head, the pulse fluttering in her veins, and the way the music seemed to be moving her body without her consideration.

Mike and Erwin had been out of her line of sight for a while. She could feel Levi nearby, though, since his body accidentally collided with hers every few seconds. At some point in the night, he had gotten drunk enough to start dancing with the rest of them. Nanaba was beside her, looking like a tall, blurry vision in the blinding flash of the strobelights. Their willowy frame rocked and swayed to the fast, earthshaking beat. They had their eyes closed, their hands stretched above their head, their hips moving in a rhythm that was smoother, far more alluring, than Hanji had thought them capable. Thoughtlessly, she reached out to touch them.

Nanaba's eyes opened at the sudden invasion and fixed on Hanji. She quickly took her hand back, but the magnetic feeling in her limbs wouldn't go away. Keeping her eyes locked with Nanaba's, she eased herself closer. They didn't move away. Hanji let go of whatever inhibitions had kept her under control and gently put her hands on Nanaba's hips. She fell into their rhythm, synchronizing their dance with her own. The crowd pressed them closer. Hanji's chest was crushed up against Nanaba's, and friction burned between fabric and skin. Their body was softer than what Hanji had imagined, if she had been imagining anything at all. She briefly wanted to ask what they were, as opposed to who, but the thought passed quickly from her head. It was bad form anyway, asking something so bold immediately after blindly trying to touch them. Hanji let the magnetism in her bones pull her closer, twining her arms around Nanaba's waist, running her hands over their lean back, the soft, smooth fabric of their shirt folding flimsily around her fingers. Nanaba watched her every second, their eyes glassy, looking confused, almost frightened. Hanji hoped that what she thought she was seeing wasn't the truth.

Delicately, she leaned in closer to Nanaba until her head was hovering near their ear. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice hazy and slurred.

"It's okay," Nanaba murmured in response. Hanji felt their hands snaking around her waist, coming to rest on the too-tight waistband of her shorts.

"I'm still sorry." Hanji's eyelashes fluttered against Nanaba's ear. She felt a small metal ring pierced into the cartilage. "I'm just... really drunk..."

"It's okay," Nanaba said again. Their body and Hanji's were still moving of their own volition, writhing mindlessly to the beat of the music. Hanji's fingers dragged on the soft, stretchy fabric of their shirt. She could feel their fingers hooked around her belt loops. Their heart was beating fast. Hanji could feel it in their chest, pressed tightly to her own. She moved her face out from the curve of Nanaba's neck and leaned back, just enough to look them in the eyes. Their gaze was drowsy, clouded and intoxicated. Hanji could smell the sour tang of alcohol as their breath ghosted across her skin in hot, heavy bursts.

Fuck...They're kind of pretty... Hanji thought absently.

Holding her gaze steady, Hanji slid her hands up Nanaba's sides, nearing their narrow shoulders. Their soft, flaxen hair brushed her fingers. Hanji eased them into it, tangling her hands up in the short, silky strands as much as she could. Nanaba didn't object, only kept dancing, fixated on Hanji's eyes. The two of them were so close. Unbearably close. Their face was only a few inches from hers.

I could totally do it, Hanji's brain blurted out in a drunken stupor.

No, I can't, came the protest from the shred of her mind that still had some sense.

But they're so close.

I barely know them.

I want to.

I can't.

I totally could.

But she couldn't. She didn't, because while Hanji's inebriated brain was struggling to process the idea, Nanaba's eyes lifted to look at something behind her.

"What the fuck?"

It was Levi who had said it. He sounded shocked, but at the same time like whatever he was seeing was something he should have seen coming. Something entertaining that he should have seen coming, at that. Hanji separated herself from Nanaba in order to turn around. Something was going on behind her, and it had gotten the others riled up. And that something was...

"Oh my god," Hanji exclaimed. She sounded just like Levi.

Mike and Erwin were in another spot on the dance floor, just close enough to give all three of them a clear view. They were close. In the flashing lights, they were two intertwining silhouettes, all but fused together. And they appeared to be conjoined at the mouth. Hanji squinted through the glare. Mike and Erwin were... kissing?

"I can't fucking believe this," Levi shouted over the music. "Erwin... Erwin motherfucking Smith and his goddamn college roommate..." He looked back at Hanji. "Did you know about this?"

"Hell no," Hanji replied. "But... fuck, how did we not see that coming?"

"I kind of did," Nanaba added out of nowhere.

Hanji spun around to face them. For as late into the night as it was, they didn't sound all that drunk. But it might have been the music screwing with her hearing. "What?"

"Mike's talked about him. Erwin," Nanaba continued. They slunk towards Hanji, trying to make themselves heard. "He missed him. Probably more than I could have guessed he did." They gazed at their roommate, a faint smirk on their placid face.

That's kind of sexy.

Shut up, Hanji, you're drunk.

A burst of white light distracted her, and Hanji glanced back at Mike and Erwin's sudden makeout to witness the tail end of a camera flash. There was another not a second later, and finally Hanji caught on. Levi was holding his phone up, the screen facing them all. The flash went off again.

"What are you doing?" Hanji slurred, unsure whether she should be angry or not.

"I'm gathering evidence," Levi replied, puzzling as he always was when drunk.

"Why?"

"So if he forgets this by tomorrow, he won't be confused if this messes something up later on."

"Oh," Hanji mumbled. "That's... kind of nice... I guess."

A pair of hands showed up on Hanji's waist, then a chin on her shoulder. "Hey... how much would you bet that they end up fucking later?"

Hanji's eyes widened. She knew it was Nanaba behind her. She recognized the voice, the little cartilage ring scraping against her ear. A wave of shock still ran through her nerves. Just a few hours ago Nanaba would barely say a word, and suddenly... this?

"You really think that would happen?" she responded.

"Mike told me the stories," they said, their voice soft and melodic against the loud music. "He's done worse."

"I know he has."

Hanji turned around to see Nanaba looking confused. "You do?"

She smiled. "Erwin told Levi and me the same stories."

It took a second for her words to sink in, and once they did, Nanaba burst into laughter. "Come on, I think they want to be left alone," they said. Hanji felt an enticing pull on her waist and realized that Nanaba was responsible. "Let's keep dancing."

"I thought you don't normally like clubs."

"This isn't normal."

One more look at those sleepy blue eyes, hazy and excited all at once. Another pull at her waist. It wasn't necessary. Hanji wasn't in any mood to protest anyway.

"I'm okay with that."

---

How many drinks has it been?

Nanaba wasn't sure anymore. They had stopped keeping track a while ago.

They were in the middle of a tightly packed crowd of people. It wasn't a setting they liked. Not usually. But loud music pounded in their ears and flashing lights blurred the unnerving images around them. There was someone pressed close to them. Someone familiar, but at the same time someone they barely knew. Strobes reflecting off of glasses lenses, a pair of glossed lips stretched into a delirious smile, a warm, live body grinding against their own.

What time is it? they numbly wondered.

Hanji. That was her name. And Nanaba had just met her that night. Now they were here. How had that happened? Nanaba wasn't supposed to be a people person. Nanaba didn't trust people this fast. This sort of thing just... didn't happen to them.

How long have I been here?

The bass was shaking Memorandum's foundations, the vibrations shivering their way into Nanaba's bones. Their skull was pounding. The lights burned their eyes. Only Hanji, Hanji being so close to them, her body crushed against their own was a little bit reassuring, a little familiar, just a little...

This was intense. Everything else was too intense. It was too much, too fast. It was fun for a while, sure. But now... Now it was too much.

Why am I doing this?

"Hanji..." The name was forced out of Nanaba's mouth in a weak, labored sound. For a moment, there was no answer. Nanaba started thinking Hanji hadn't heard them. The music was too loud. Their presence was too weak. In this club, in everyone else's head, they were insignificant. Nanaba's insecurities started rearing up for a second, almost as strong as when they were sober. Then...

"What is it?"

Hanji's answer had been delayed, but it was there. "Hanji, I can't..."

"Can't what?" She spoke slowly, her voice soft and her breathing heavy.

"I need to..." Nanaba tried to find the words, but they kept slipping away. The effort made their head hurt. Actually, everything made their head hurt. "Need to... stop..."

Hanji drew back from them and her wide brown eyes found theirs. Through the confusing lens of alcohol and sparkling lights, Nanaba could tell that she understood. "Are you okay?"

They inhaled to reply, but the breath got pushed out again before they could turn it into words. They shook their head to respond, and the motion made their brain ache even more. Their stomach convulsed. They wouldn't last much longer. They had to leave the crowd to get somewhere quieter, preferably somewhere they could throw up, because they were definitely going to.

"Hold on to me," Hanji commanded. "I can get us out of here." Nanaba made no argument in winding an arm around hers. Hanji began slicing her way through the crowd on the dance floor, dragging Nanaba close behind. She couldn't seem to find Levi anywhere. Then again, there didn't seem to be any time to look.

The bathroom wasn't far from the dance floor, which was probably for the best. It was Hanji's first time at Memorandum, and Nanaba could barely remember where anything was in the building. It didn't take much blind wandering to find it. There were three doors; one for men, one for women, and one for... Hanji and Nanaba assumed it was meant for whoever wanted to use it. As soon as the door was in sight, Hanji shoved Nanaba through, almost toppling them over, as they were barely able to stand on their unnecessary platform heels. Nanaba stumbled for a few feet before finding the edge of the sink, where they were able to grab on and regain their balance. The bathroom wasn't anything special, only a few stainless-steel stalls, a set of sinks and a floor tiled with the same black granite from which the bar had been cut. There was no attendant, probably because one hadn't been hired yet. So, thankfully, the room was completely empty.

Nanaba leaned back against the sink and slumped over. They took a deep breath and stared at the floor. Nothing was said for the longest time. Hanji wanted to do something to help. She had dealt with drunk friends far too many times before. But she had never dealt with a drunk Nanaba. "Hey, um... is there anything I can..."

"I don't know," they deadpanned in response. "I don't think so."

Hanji came a little closer and leaned on the edge of the sink. "You really aren't looking so hot. What's wrong?"

"I don't know," they said for the second time. "My head just hurts... and I feel so... I'm just really drained right now. If I could... I've never been out this late before."

"You've never been out this late?" Hanji asked, as if she hadn't understood the words.

"No. I... really don't do this sort of thing. Like... ever."

"Then why..."

"Mike brings me. I think he wants me to meet new people. People like me, who might understand me better, even better than he can. And he does understand. But I don't..." Nanaba straightened up and looked Hanji in the eyes. "I'm not like him. I don't work that way."

"Then how do you work?" It wasn't just a question. Hanji was genuinely curious.

"I don't think I work at all."

The bathroom was quiet again after that. Nanaba resumed staring at the floor, hands wrapped around their skull and digging into their hair, occasionally breathing heavy to keep themselves steady. Hanji stood by and watched, waiting. For what, she wasn't sure, but with drunk people, there was always something that happened next. Sometimes unexpected, sometimes... not.

All of a sudden, Nanaba raised their head and looked to Hanji. "Hey, Hanji. Could you do something for me?"

"Sure," Hanji responded. Here we go, she thought.

"Hold my hair back."

As soon as the words were out of Nanaba's mouth, they bolted for the stall in the middle of the bathroom. Hanji rushed in after them and frantically reached out, managing to snatch Nanaba's bangs before she pitched forward over the toilet. She crouched to hold them in place as her co-clubber retched into the porcelain bowl. After the first few convulsions, liquid started coming up, its sickly orange color the result of too many drinks being held in the same live compartment at once.

"That's it. Let it all out," Hanji murmured comfortingly as Nanaba puked their guts out before them. They were just barely holding it together, turned into a hacking, shivering mess kneeling on the floor. Eventually the liquid stopped coming up. Still, Nanaba coughed and sputtered, their stomach still attempting to force something out when there was nothing left. Hanji moved her hands away from Nanaba's bangs to take their hat off and run her fingers through their hair, massage their scalp, then move down to rub their shoulders and back. Nanaba coughed weakly in response, shuddering from the effort.

"Shhhh. Sh-sh-shhhhhh." Hanji patted them gently on the back like someone would to soothe a baby. "Shhhh. It's done. You're done." She wrapped her arms around Nanaba's waist and leaned forward, gently brushing her nose against the nape of their neck. "You're okay. It's over."

Nanaba stiffened at the sudden contact, but only a little. They took a few deep breaths, trying to make their retching stop. It did eventually. "I...I'm sorry," they said reflexively as soon as they felt they could speak.

"For what?" Hanji asked.

Her breath brushed across Nanaba's skin like a warm breeze. They shivered and hoped Hanji didn't notice. "For... puking in front of you, I guess. After you only knew me for a few hours." They twisted around to face Hanji and gave her a feeble smile. "Great first impression, huh?"

"It wasn't really the first," Hanji replied warmly. "Besides, you've made plenty of good impressions before this one."

That fact in itself was surprising to Nanaba. "I... did?"

"Yeah." Hanji reached toward Nanaba's face and gently brushed a few strands of hair away from their eyes. "You did."

Thump. Nanaba's heart knocked suddenly at their ribs. They shivered again and did their best to swallow the bitter taste in their mouth. They quickly took their gaze away from Hanji and directed it towards the floor. Still, Hanji took the incentive to gently grasp Nanaba's hands in hers and help them to their feet. Nanaba couldn't help the shock they felt. She had done it without them even needing to ask.

Nanaba rushed to the sink and tried to wash the nasty taste of vomit out of their mouth while Hanji flushed the pool of vomit they'd left in the toilet. When they turned around again, Hanji was there, holding a small green packet in her hand. It was a pack of mint gum. She ripped two pieces out of the packaging, swiftly unwrapped them and handed them to Nanaba. They took them both and stuck them gratefully into their mouth. Hanji smiled at the action, and her expression brought a slight flush to Nanaba's cheeks.

"Why are you doing all of this for me?" they asked. "You've got no reason. You barely even know me."

Hanji seemed puzzled. "What do you mean? I know you. We're like, basically best friends by now."

Now it was Nanaba's turn to be confused. "Really? Prove it. How much do you know about me?"

"Well, I know that you're a fucking lightweight, that's for damn sure."

Nanaba's face broke out in a grin and a laugh slipped out from their lips. The expression seemed to ignite something in Hanji, because her eyes lit up and a luminous smile appeared on her face.

"You think I'm a lightweight?" Nanaba queried, almost challengingly.

"Yeah," Hanji answered in the same tone. "You're at least four shots behind me. Three behind Levi, and around one or two behind Mr. Handsome and your ex-neighbor, give or take a shot."

"I thought you lost count."

"It's an educated guess. Either way, you're still a few shots behind the rest of us."

"And that makes me a lightweight?"

"You said it yourself. You never do this sort of thing."

Nanaba laughed again at that. A feeling like embers being stoked began to smolder in Hanji's chest. The alcoholic buzz was still there, but...

God, they're so... They're so pretty...

"Tell me more," they slurred.

"What?"

"Tell me more about me. What else do you know?"

"Well... you're kind of quiet. You don't really approach people, and you don't say much until you're spoken to. You don't put yourself out there, you know?"

Nanaba nodded. "What else?"

"Mike is your best friend, at this point in your life," Hanji went on. "You don't always coincide with him... like, he gets you to do stuff like this, even though it's not your favorite thing... but you make your lives work, somehow. You love books, and you work in a bookstore, and you want to be the owner of your own someday. You want to write, too, if you can find the right place to start. Um... You never get enough sleep, because... work and stuff, but you do your best. You somehow always end up awake and busy when it's late at night. You dance, too. Well, only when you no longer feel like you're being watched. And you're really damn good."

Nanaba giggled. "Okay. What else?"

Hanji chewed her lip as she thought. "Um... I know that you're... genderqueer. Somehow." She paused, then explained, "Okay, I... I don't really know that one, either. I'm just guessing. I thought you were, but I'm not sure how. But with the pronouns Mike was using and everything, I just figured-"

"Agender."

"Hm?"

"I'm agender," Nanaba repeated. "Meaning I don't identify with anything. I'm not a man or a woman, or... anything, really. I'm just me."

Hanji was quiet for a second, then nodded. "Okay. I get it."

"Is there anything else that Mike told you that I don't know about?"

"No," Hanji assured them. "At least... I don't think so."

"Then is that it?"

"Is that all I know about you?"

"Yeah."

"Um... I guess so," she said with a smile and a shrug. A second later, a slight flush joined the fray. "Well, there... there is one more thing."

"What is it?"

Hanji opened her mouth to speak, then shut it abruptly as her face pulled into a radiant smile and an awkward schoolgirl giggle slipped out. "I-I don't want to say it!"

"What?" Nanaba almost whined. "Come on. Why not?"

"Because... B-because I don't really know if this one's true, either! And I already guessed about the gender thing-"

"What is it?" Nanaba demanded excitedly, seeming not to have heard a single thing Hanji had said.

Hanji sighed, her face still tinted pink. "Are you sure you want to know?"

Nanaba nodded vigorously, not even bothering with words. After a nervous second, Hanji finally said, "I... I was going to say you were queer as hell... Not in the gender way. In the... attraction way. But... I didn't want to..." She trailed off and stared at Nanaba. The both of them were fully aware of what would have come next.

For an ongoing moment, neither of them said a single word. The silence must have lasted five seconds, or five minutes, or maybe five hours. Finally, Nanaba spoke up.

"Well... you're not wrong."

Hanji's embarrassment began to ebb, but the redness in her cheeks never left. "I-I'm not?"

"No. Even though, with the way I am... I'm not entirely sure what to call myself." They laughed awkwardly, the corner of their lips turning up in a lopsided smile. "I think queer is the only thing that works."

"So... what do you like?"

"It's kind of hard to say," Nanaba said softly, sounding almost embarrassed to admit it. They dropped their gaze to the floor, their long, mascaraed eyelashes fluttering shyly down over their cheeks. "I... kind of like everything."

"Heh," Hanji let slip a timid giggle. "I do too. Just in case you were wondering."

"You do?" Nanaba sounded surprised.

Hanji nodded, keeping her mouth shut. It didn't last, though. It never did when it came to her.

"Do you like me?"

Nanaba stared at her. For a second, Hanji felt a stab of fear in the pit of her stomach. Shit. I've gone too far.

"I do."

Their words were so quiet, Hanji could barely understand them. But they were there. And she had managed, somehow.

"I kind of do. A little."

Hanji was never the kind of person to run out of words to say. But, somehow, that was exactly what happened. Her lips were numb, limp, feeling buzzed and nonexistent. She stared at Nanaba, their thin, androgynous face, their faded-denim blue eyes drowsy and fixed on hers. Their fingertips were just barely separate from her own on the edge of the sink, and Hanji straightened her fingers out to close the gap between them. Nanaba didn't react to the tips of Hanji's painted nails suddenly grazing their skin. Their pulse skipped, and they wondered at the questions that Hanji had just asked them. Nanaba had a feeling they already knew what they meant. It was a vague feeling. They were still sober enough to know they were drunk. But that didn't change the deep longing in Hanji's huge brown doe eyes. It was there for some reason. They turned towards her to get a better look, and in the same instance, their hand accidentally slipped over hers. Neither one of them did a single thing to stop it.

In that same second, the bathroom door swung open and someone else walked in. They glanced briefly at the two strangers at the sink before disappearing into one of the stalls. Hanji quickly drew her hand back and stared at the floor. "We should probably, uh... get back to the others."

"Yeah," Nanaba murmured. "Good idea." She felt a little surprised. If she wasn't mistaken, there was a slight tone of disappointment in her own words.

Leaving it at that, Hanji turned to head for the door. Before she made it that far, she took Nanaba by the hand to lead her onward. The tiny hallway outside was crowded, almost unbelievably so. With nearly every step they took, some stranger grazed, pushed against or collided with them. The two of them had to stick close to the wall opposite the doors, where the human clog seemed to be at its thinnest. Nanaba hadn't the foggiest idea why so many people would feel the need to find a bathroom all at once. Does this happen a lot? Everyone in the club goes to the bathroom all at once or something? They made a point of asking Hanji at some point.

Neither of them thought any more about what they were doing. It seemed like the situation in the bathroom was one they simply couldn't escape.

Both of them fell forward, and their lips met and pressed together. The tastes of alcohol, salt, sugar and other things mixed between them. Hanji's hands left the wall and found their way into Nanaba's hair, twisting the silky blonde strands through her fingers, tangling them, pulling their mouth closer to hers. Nanaba had clawed fingers hooked around the waist of Hanji's shorts to bind her body to theirs. They writhed against her, trapped between her and the wall. The kiss deepened. Hanji pulled Nanaba's lip into her mouth, sucking viciously and drawing a breathless whine out of them as their hands wandered over her body, nails dragging over her hips, waist, shoulders and back.

For a second, their lips broke apart. Nanaba traced their fingers along Hanji's cheek, feeling dizzy, even sicker than they had before. But they couldn't stop. They didn't want to. Hanji seemed to be able to smell it on them, because she quickly dove back in and attacked the exposed skin of Nanaba's neck. Nanaba lost touch with her face and dug their fingers into her hair. It was thick, a little oily, but soft and smelled like frizz serum, a weirdly calming sensation. They pulled, and Hanji came unlatched from their neck, leaving a blazing red mark on their skin. Nanaba nipped at the cartilage edge of Hanji's ear, a soft, delicate motion. Hanji let out a soft, euphoric sigh, digging her manicured nails into Nanaba's shirt, feeling their soft flesh give under the pressure. She shook their lips free before going back and claiming them under her own again, this time sliding her tongue across the lower one. She tasted coconut lip balm, her own lip gloss, and a few other things, one of them acrid and bitter, but not enough to make her stop.

"H-Hanji..." Nanaba whispered against her lips. Hanji inhaled in response, tasting their breath, consuming the words like ambrosia. She rolled her hips against Nanaba's and felt their stomach tighten up. They let out a small, high-pitched whimper and tightened their hold on her body. They wanted more. Hanji could feel it in the way they moved, the hammering pulse underneath their skin, their nails on her skin and her scalp. But something was wrong. Something she couldn't exactly place.

A moment later, Nanaba's head lolled weakly onto her shoulder. Hanji buried her nose into it, ready to delve into it with her lips and teeth again. Then Nanaba said, in words murmured weakly into her ear, "I want to go home."

Hanji drew her lips back. She was still against the wall, though now she wasn't so much pinning Nanaba there as keeping them standing upright. They leaned heavily against her, eyes fluttering, barely even awake. She wound her arms around Nanaba's waist and stepped carefully back from the wall. Nanaba followed suit, moving like a puppet in Hanji's arms. "Okay," Hanji whispered back to them. "We can go home, if you need to."

Nanaba sighed, drowsy with relief. The hair on the back of Hanji's neck raised with the soft brush of their warm breath, but she pushed the feeling aside. She took out her phone. It was past midnight, not quite 1 am, but coming close. Slowly, Hanji picked her way out of the crowd, dragging Nanaba with her like a drunk rag doll.

Now all that was left to do was find the others.

---

The last step took nowhere near as long as Hanji had expected. She found Mike and Erwin in the upstairs lounge. Both men had somehow crammed themselves into a single pod, Erwin sitting on Mike's lap with his head leaned back on his old friend's shoulder, his fingers tangled in Mike's dirty blonde hair. Hanji did her best to explain what was going on, and Erwin replied with something about texting Levi. Mike gave her an address, and Hanji left.

Thankfully, none of them had driven to Memorandum that night. Hanji checked her pockets on the way out. She had next to no cash left, but her debit card would probably at least cover a taxi ride back to Nanaba's apartment. From there, she wasn't sure how she would get home. But something would come to her once she got that far. She hoped something would, at least.

Nanaba was on the verge of passing out for the entirety of the taxi ride. They leaned heavily on Hanji's shoulder, so Hanji leaned back, and the two of them wound up in a tangle of limbs on the cheap vinyl seat, much to the annoyance of the driver. Once out of the cab, the two of them staggered up to the numbered door that Mike had directed Hanji towards. Nanaba was sentient enough to recognize their own address, so they dug their keys out of their pocket.

Hanji thought briefly about leaving them there. Then the scene in the bathroom revived itself in the back of her mind, and she decided it was probably best if she made sure that Nanaba at least made it to the apartment. Not that Nanaba seemed to mind. In fact, they seemed more than willing to let Hanji walk with them, one arm around their waist and one of their own wrapped around hers.

The apartment was on the fifth floor, at the very end of an empty, blue-grey carpeted hallway. The place was deathly silent, if not for their own slurred murmuring and drunken giggles. Nanaba fished their key out of their pocket again and tried to push it into the lock, but the key's end kept glancing off the sides of the lock.

Suddenly, Hanji's hand was on theirs, holding it steady. Nanaba looked sideways to see her staring ahead, a look of intense concentration on her face. They felt the key slide into the lock and the tumblers click into place. Hanji looked up at them, and Nanaba felt her fingers tighten on their own. Nanaba's heard began to pound, its pulse picking up and rushing blood to their cheeks. Hanji's eyes seemed to ask some unspoken question. It was one Nanaba couldn't quite understand, but they knew how to answer.

As the doorknob turned, Nanaba abruptly let go and lined up their hand with the side of Hani's face. The door flew open. They drew her mouth towards their own and their lips pressed against hers. Hanji gasped, and the both of them crashed into the wall beside the door. Nanaba's keys hit the floor. Hanji kicked the door shut. Her fingers dug into Nanaba's hair, and their hat landed beside their keys on the hardwood. Their tongues fought, teeth scraped viciously at each other's lips.

Nanaba pulled back, panting, hazy-eyed and delirious. "Hanji... what happened, outside the bathroom..."

"I liked it," Hanji slurred in reply, her mascaraed eyelashes fluttering.

"I did too." Nanaba pressed her lips against Hanji's again, mouth open, tasting as much as they could. Hanji let out a soft moan. One leg wound around theirs, pushing their knee against the wall and dragging their hips closer. Nanaba rolled their body against hers. Hanji's breathing hitched, and she nipped at Nanaba's lips, teasing them, taunting them with something just out of reach.

Nanaba groped blindly across the wall for the lightswitch. They found it eventually and flicked it on, revealing an apartment that wasn't all that impressive. Hanji didn't care much to comment on it as she danced clumsily with Nanaba away from the front door and across the apartment, kissing furiously all the way. The back of Nanaba's legs met suddenly with the arm of the couch, and they tumbled backwards, taking Hanji with them. They both landed gracelessly on the cushions. Their faces knocked together, but they felt nothing and kept going at it as if just as much had happened.

Hanji straddled Nanaba's slim body, running her hands over their sides and back as they writhed underneath her, responding deliciously to every kiss, every bite, every scrape of her nails or tug of her fingers. Nanaba's shoes were the first things to come off, hitting the floor with a dull, wooden clunk. Hanji squirmed to get her boots off, eliciting a protesting whine from Nanaba when they lost contact for the few seconds it took for her drunk self to undo a zipper.

Nanaba curled up underneath Hanji, inching upward to allow themselves more leg space, and Hanji kept up, crawling along over them. A second later, her hands had somehow found their way underneath Nanaba's shirt. They tensed up and froze, mouth open, eyes wide and staring up at her. Hanji stopped dead in her tracks, then took her hands back, unsure whether or not she had done something wrong. Nanaba saw the confusion in her eyes. "It's fine," they murmured. "Just... be careful doing that."

Hanji wasn't sure she believed it, but her doubts didn't last much longer as she fell on top of Nanaba and delved into their mouth again.

Everything became a blur, a nearly blacked-out drunken memory; Lips, skin, nails, hair, teeth and tongues, all meshed together in a sensual mess. Hanji grabbed at Nanaba's ass, attacking their neck, sucking and biting down on their skin until the faint red stains she left had turned a glaring shade of violet. They moaned in response, and the sound was like jet fuel to Hanji, lighting a blaze in her soul, craving more. She moved her hips heavily against the body underneath her, grinding the too-tight fabric of her shorts against her clit. Hanji bit her lip and let slip a small whine at the feeling. Nanaba's legs shifted under her, and they cried out again, breathless, louder this time than the last. Their breath came in small, labored puffs. Hanji ground her hips harder against theirs. Nanaba's voice pitched higher, the friction in their skintight jeans growing hotter as Hanji pushed them both closer and closer to the edge.

Then, suddenly, Nanaba fell silent.

Hanji slowed her pace when she noticed. She looked down at Nanaba, who seemed to have gone still all of a sudden. They were gazing back up at her with heavy-lidded eyes, still panting, their chest shuddering with every breath. Then their eyes fell shut and their body went limp underneath Hani's.

"Nanaba?" Hanji whispered. She leaned down towards them, almost brushing her nose with theirs. Their eyelashes fluttered delicately, as if they meant to respond. Nanaba's breath had evened out, becoming deep, even, and relaxed.

Hanji brushed a few hairs away from their eyes, and they didn't react. She sighed. There was no question about it. They had passed right the fuck out. Hanji couldn't help laughing to herself a little. I was right. You really are a lightweight.

Hanji carefully untangled herself from Nanaba and got up from the couch. In all the time she had been here, she hadn't had a chance to look at the apartment itself. It was a pretty decent size, for something supposedly owned primarily by one person. The living room where she stood was huge, with a large flat-screen TV hanging up on one was also a full kitchen, a door that probably led to a bathroom, and two more on the other side of the living space. She wandered over to one and reached in to turn the light on, hoping that it would be the one she was looking for.

It was Nanaba's bedroom. At least, she thought it was. The furnishings were on the sparse side, with only a bed, dressers and computer desk, upon which a cheap-looking PC sat. Hanji glanced back at the motionless body on the couch. She left the door open and returned to where she had started. She leaned over Nanaba, looking over them, trying to figure out how they would be easiest to lift. She settled for an attempt at holding them like a bride, legs over one arm and torso cradled in the other. The result was sloppy, but it worked.

Hanji lowered Nanaba's limp body onto the mattress that she hoped belonged to them. They didn't stir at the disturbance, not even another courtesy eyelash-flutter. Hanji set to work wriggling the comforter down from underneath Nanaba's dead weight, wondering bitterly why she hadn't done it earlier. Once it was done, she pulled the edge up to their shoulders, covering them. They looked cozy like that... not to mention cute. Almost criminally so.

Hanji smiled. She figured that she'd done well enough. She made her way to the door, gazed at Nanaba one last time, then shut the lights off and left.

Once out in the living room, Hanji checked her phone. She'd been ignoring it for... she wasn't even sure how long it had been anymore. It was almost 2 am. Levi had been texting her madly over the last half-hour. Mike and Erwin had left together, and he had taken a cab home. He would be waiting for her in their shared apartment. She could probably spare enough money for one more taxi fare. Levi wouldn't like being left hanging for too long.

Halfway to the door, Hanji picked up Nanaba's hat and keys sitting on the floor. She'd forgotten that they had left them there. She daintily picked them up and placed them on the kitchen counter. They couldn't leave too much evidence behind. It wouldn't do to have Mike getting suspicious.

Or would it? She couldn't be sure. She still had too much alcohol in her system to figure it out. All she wanted to do at that moment was get home and try to sleep through as much of her upcoming hangover as she could. On the way home, a single thought stuck with her. It stayed up until the moment she fell into her bed and lost consciousness.

I sure as hell hope I don't forget this.