Gift-fic for arashi wolf princess as requested by vampygurl402.
Happy Birthday!
She could admit she admired Nana Osaki. It was so easy to, from her perspective. Nana represented something so cool and different. She was in a band, she sang so beautifully and captivatingly. She could enthrall you with a smile, make you feel like you're okay in the world. She had such a dark sense of style – carrying blacks and lace and safety pins like some would with pastels and cashmere and bows. Plus she could make furniture from scrap wood. How cool was that?
But it was Nana's relationships that were the under currents of her attraction, something deep and historical, something she didn't think they could have together. It made her want to ask questions, and sometimes she did, but for the most part she tried to hold herself back so she wouldn't sound so annoying.
Like questions about her tattoo. The Ren flower. It looked totally like a lotus flower, but Nana insisted it was a Ren flower. After meeting Ren-the-person and seeing them together (or even just hearing about them being together), she could see why Nana would call it that. It was a tattoo for him, named for him. It was his mark on her, like how he still wore that chain with her lock around it.
It made her a bit jealous, that they have that. She wasn't jealous of Nana; she could easily see that the guitarist belonged to her. But maybe it was Ren she was jealous of, that Nana had that mark of him on her skin.
When she thought about it that way, it sounded so creepy.
But it was a special thing they had. A tattoo was everlasting, a symbol that there was a history, and will be a history. Ren was proof, he came back into her life, even if Nana didn't really let him go (at least, that's what she figured).
They had cups. Super cute cups, but glass chipped stained cups. They had memories with using them, so many special and non-special ones, but they wouldn't stay the same forever. But neither would their friendship, would it? They just get closer and closer, Nana O practically knew her better than her sister now.
It was childish, she knew, but it still stung under the surface when she thought about it, that Nana had that meaningfulness in her tattoo.