It's the little things.
The goons might see Shibuya beat Dance up a hundreed times.
But they never see her help her up off the ground, to a chair, and kneel before her and clean her wounds, before gingerly bandaging them.
They don't see her kiss her better, body and soul.
And when the battle's done, they don't see Dance do the same for Shibuya.
When they're walking home, sore from the day's fights, Dance and Shibuya silently pick up the pieces and mend eachother.
But no-one sees that.
That's why Shibuya's not scared.
'Cause if they don't know, they can't hurt her. No, not her, as in SHibuya, her as in Dance.
That's how the grand charrade started.
Primary school, lunch, two boys pushed Dance into the mud and she started crying. Shibuya made sure they knew better than to do that ever again.
However when the next day their big brothers came to avenge them, it wasn't Shibuya they went after.
Shibuya cried next to her unconscious friend untill the ambulance arrived. When she was in safe hands she extracted her revenge.
But things were never the same after that. No ammount of apologising could wash the blood off her hands. So she asked her to hit her. Hard.
Dance refused but Shibuya insisted. She begged and begged but Dance was adamant. So she slapped her. Called her stupid. Tried to hurt her the way she was hurting. But it only made her hurt more.
And Dance just smiled. In fact, she seemed to enjoy it. Shibuya laughed at the thought. No way her Dance was that weird. But Dance just giggled.
Shibuya brightened up. She discovered something new about her old friend. She towered over her and tickled her. She called her weird and they laughed together. And then she wrapped her in her arms and apologised again.
So they devised a plan. They wouldn't let them see their love. So when the lights were on, Shibuya slapped, punched and kicked Dance, to prevent others from doing so. But when the lights went out, Dance kissed her sorrow away, wiped her tears and allowed her to escort her to their dorm, hand in hand, under the moonlit sky.
So stolen kisses between business hours were exchanged. And meaningful glances were the staple of their love. And so what if no one knew of their love? They couldn't shout it from the rooftops or hold hands in public or even share a drink. Shibuya desperately wanted to just get up and scream. To fight them all for her. But that would only make things worse. So for now she would endure this. For Dance she could do it. For Dance she would do it. She loved her. And that was enough.