Part 4: Room
Finally, finally reaching the corner that the line tantalizingly disappeared around, Sayaka poked her head over Mami's shoulder. Filled with the heady scent of the cat-eared blonde's delicate perfume, it took her a moment to focus on what lay ahead. Blinking, she turned to the older girl, who leaned back, retreating a step with a slightly wary look.
"The end's in sight," the blunette said with a grin, wondering why her mentor was so jumpy. "Or it will be, once we get around the corner," she amended. Thirty meters or so; sixty some people in the tightly packed queue. Not so bad. "Won't be long now!"
A flash of green and a faded leather jacket caught her attention, and she turned, catching sight of the retreating forms of a smallish Dean Winchester, an arm wrapped around the waist of that tall, willowy Vocaloid. Looking at the group ahead, Sayaka double-taked, wondering when the former red-head had left the line. Junko was still engaged in animated conversation with the people ahead of them. "Um... Mami-san...where's-?"
"Sakura-san? She got sick of waiting and left while we were planning out what events to see." The blonde looked vaguely displeased.
"Oh." Feeling vaguely disappointed, and a little guilty about being disappointed, Sayaka thought about some potential problems that could arise from this development. "But, won't she get kicked out if she doesn't have her pass?"
Mami glanced over to the blunette, staring into her earnestly questioning eyes. She sighed, then smiled. "Miki-san, she has her pass. That girl's, too. Sakura-san walked up to the front of the line and demanded it. You know how she is," Mami said, holding her eyes, snapping her fingers. It isn't my place to get involved in the personal lives of these girls, Mami thought to herself for what seemed like the thousandth time. But Kyoko's so... complicated. And Sayaka, a babe in the woods...
"B-but, if she got her pass already, why didn't she get us ours?" Sayaka sputtered, her mind already partially trained to gloss over Kyoko's bad behavior and focus immediately on how the red-head's actions affected her, usually in a negative way.
"Well, that's Sakura-san." The blonde played with her Ojou ringlets, wondering if she should say anything else. The girl's hurt expression made her go on. "Come on, Miki-san, you've known the girl for a while." Mami couldn't ignore the faint color that bloomed in the blunette's cheeks. "She's out for number one, and in case you didn't know, that means herself. The rooms, well, that was for her benefit too, I'm sure." Lowering her voice with an uncertain glance at Madoka's mother, she went on. "J-Junko-san, upstairs... away from us." She tripped over the name, a delicious thrill at addressing an adult as an equal, and one as amazing as Mrs. Kaname... "It's too bad, she seems like so much fun."
"Kyoko-chan can be fun, sometimes," Sayaka said, slightly wistful. Mami gave her a sharp look.
"I was talking about Junko-san. Sakura-san's fun... it comes at other people's expense, more often than not. You practically killed each other over some of that 'fun,' if I recall..."
"Oh, that was just a... just a misunderstanding." Sayaka said hastily, embarrassed at interrupting her sensei and also because she was defending the red-head for some reason.
"Yes, well... live and learn," Mami finished, losing interest in the conversation. Sometimes, you have to make a mistake yourself in order to learn from it.
Mami could be pretty deep, sometimes.
"Madoka, we're going to have so much fun," Homura promised, her eyes sparkling as she snuck a glance at Junko, who's back was turned. Mami and Sayaka were holding a piece of paper together, their heads bent down in study. The pinkette followed her gaze, craning a delicate neck, throat crinkling every so slightly around the pink choker the girl wore. Unable to resist herself, trying to control her breathing, the raven-haired girl leaned forward, mouth slightly open-
"Tee hee!" Madoka giggled, feeling her friend pressing a warm cheek against her own. She was a little chilly, the air conditioning and a large percentage of exposed flesh working in tandem. The heat radiating off the other girl felt good, and Madoka was really enjoying the physical sense of closeness... Sayaka had always been playfully rough when they were younger, and now was increasingly hands-off, like Hitomi. She closed her eyes, basking in the delightful feel of Homura's cheek rubbing against her own. Briefly, the pinkette considered her absent, green-haired friend. How could she already have had plans?
Someone behind them snickered. Breaking away, flushing, Madoka giggled nervously. "Homu... not here," she whispered, embarrassed. Pulling down at her short skirt, she almost clapped as her mother approached the counter, waved on by a man wearing a security badge. The pinkette pretended not to see the man's eyes follow her mom's derriere as she sauntered up to get their passes, or the way they widened when he turned to see Mami standing next in line.
Looking around for something to take her mind off humiliating trains of thought, Madoka pointed. They had followed a path along the outside of the building, windows to their right as they made their way around the corner. This room was larger, not a hallway but some sort of open chamber with dozens of folding tables set up in a large "U" shape. Several sets of double doors lay along the opposite wall, some holding placards with writing that was too far away for the pinkette to make out.
People were beginning to set up displays, pictures and prints laying underneath glass or hanging in cases. "What's that?"
Homura concentrated on controlling her trembling, crushing the sick, frustrated feeling that was eating her up inside with an iron heart, a broken, shattered heart that had been reforged by the hellfire of a fate worse than death, purified within the crucible of a hundred lifetimes of pain and suffering. "Prints and buttons and stickers, I guess. Uh, don't look over there," she hastily added as the wandering pink gaze looked toward a decidedly adult interpretation of Saeko and Takashi's night spent in the Buddhist temple. Shinto temple? Homura shrugged, unconcerned; she hadn't ever really been interested in religion. Not until she'd found her goddess.
"Okay girls! It's, let's see..." Her usual sliver Gucci watch having been left behind in favor of the fingerless black leather gloves, Junko consulted the back of her wrist before realizing what she was doing. "Does anyone have the time?" she asked politely to no one in particular, and several arms shot out of line, a multitude of wristwatches, from slim and elegant to thick and massive, made available to the purple-haired woman.
"Thank you," she said graciously, turning back to the girls and leaving some of those behind her feeling like they hadn't gotten picked to be on a very special team, or invited to a party everyone wanted to go to. "Five thirty. Should we head to our rooms, first? I don't think there's anything going on until-"
"At six some of the panels start," Sayaka supplied helpfully.
"Alright, then. Would you girls like to meet up later?" Madoka looked down, rubbing the toe of her shoe in small circles around the carpet. Homura kept silent, but her slightly-less-than-hostile expression spoke volumes. Mami looked inquiringly at Sayaka.
"Because if you don't, I'm certain I can find something to occupy myself with," she went on, looking around the room, her gaze sweeping over a dozen yearning stares, trying to meet her eyes, without the slightest acknowledgement.
Mami could take a hint. "We'll be fine, Junko-san," she assured the older woman.
"Excellent. Madoka, keep your phone with you."
"Yes, okay I will."
"Oh, and Mami-san," Junko drew the older girl aside, gripping the pliant flesh of her upper arm delicately, but with insistence. Leaning close, she whispered something in the blonde's ear. Sayaka saw her eyes turn to Homura as she whispered, and saw the black-haired, black body-suited girl catch the glance and lower her eyes, pouting.
Sayaka found Kyoko in a large round, the perimeter of which was taken up by two dozen flatscreens, each as large as the one in her family's living room, the one she was forbidden to play games on. She had to use the little crappy one in her room, and their stupid wireless internet was three rooms away! Her gaming was severely impeded by her poor latency, but her complaints fell on deaf ears. Old, dumb, deaf ears. Stupid unfair rules, she thought, before her eyes locked in on the quarry she'd been hunting for the past fifteen minutes.
Kyoko's face was lit up by the screen she stared into, the short, dark hair that spiked up a little in front making it difficult to recognize her profile. It was the posture; leaning back, one dark brown boot propped on the table. She held her controller in one hand, the other stuffing something into her mouth, jaw working furiously. The girl with the green wig sat beside her, talking quietly as she folded up an empty paper sack, an earnest expression on her face.
Walking across the dim room, the blunette glanced around, seeing a table set with vast racks of game discs, and other groups of people clustered around the other machines. Sayaka approached Kyoko slowly, feeling a compulsion to eavesdrop.
"-doing anything, later tonight?" she caught the other girl saying coyly, and stopped. Kyoko grunted, throwing down her controller.
Kyoko, having finished thrusting whatever it was in her mouth, struggled to make an exaggerated swallow. "I'll tell you what I'm doing right now; kicking this kid's ass!" she roared in victory, sending a visible spray partly-chewed rice and fish flakes into the air, offering her defeated opponent a finger of consolation. The "kid," in this case being some fairly respectable twenty something character, shook his head, appalled at his loss but even more by his opponent's behavior. Leaving, furious, his exit was watched by the Vocaloid-girl.
"Was... was that really neces-" she began, but Kyoko turned to look at her and flashed her dazzling smile.
"I know what I want to be doing, later tonight," she murmured, eyes narrowed roguishly. Then she caught sight of a bubble-headed reflection in the screen in front of her and spun around.
"What the hell-"
"J-Junko-san wants us to get our stuff stowed in the rooms..." Sayaka trailed off, feeling awkward under the hard, crimson stare of the still-sitting girl in front of her. She took off her helmet again, just to have something to do with her hands.
"So, go stow it, then," Kyoko growled.
Sayaka didn't leave immediately, and Kyoko sighed loudly. "What is it?"
"We're supposed to-"
"Oh for fuck's sake!" the former red-head roared, getting to her feet and sending her chair crashing to the floor. Her new friend winced, whether from the shouted curse, the overturned furniture, or the dozens of stares that were suddenly focused squarely on her immediate vicinity.
"Miku, I gotta go. Need to babysit my little friend here," Kyoko said darkly, glancing at the blunette.
"Will... will I see you later, Dean?" the girl asked, sounding pathetically desperate to Sayaka's ears.
Kyoko only grinned again, mysteriously, and walked away, hoping the girl had more onigiri but realizing now was not the time to ask. Let her stew a little, first.
Outside, she punched the blunette's arm, as hard as she could.
"OW! You ASS!" Sayaka took a step back, away from the leather-jacketed girl, rubbing her shoulder.
"I can't believe you." Kyoko looked at her, fury cooling to a simmering anger. "You... you c-blocked me! You're... you're such a Sam. Bitch." She muttered, mostly playfully and without venom. Mostly.
Sayaka put her face in her hands, pressing against her eyelids until mercurial waves of light and color washed across them. She began walking; if the obnoxious girl wanted to follow her and actually see where she'd be sleeping, it was entirely her decision. Kyoko began following, and was ominously quiet as they walked back downstairs, turning in the opposite direction from the lobby. The increasing scent of chlorine, combined with a slight increase in humidity, told her they were getting close.
The blunette opened the door to the pool, another high ceiling looming far above the chamber that lay within, balconies overlooking the irregularly shaped swimming area with chairs and tables clustered about, curtained glass windows lining three sides of the room, presumably leading to individual rooms. She caught a glimpse of several costumed people, a few girls in swimsuits, and several of the animal-suited "furry" people like the one she'd seen in line.
Kyoko reached out an arm, slamming her hand into the door and shutting it forcefully.
"I thought you didn't care," the older girl said in a strange voice, scrutinizing the blue eyes that stared back in confusion, just a hair's breath above her own. She got on her toes so she could look down at the blunette instead.
"Huh?" Sayaka said, flustered. "I don't-"
"Last time. You said you couldn't care less about me..." Kyoko rubbed her mouth with her fingertips, thoughtfully. "So that's why you were so annoyingly demanding back there-"
"What? ME!? I'm not... what are you talking about? If you wanna make... new friends, that's what we're here for I guess. Even if you don't even know their names. Or let them know yours. Who you want to spend time with is your business," she finished, a bit huffily.
"Mmm. Okay then. Well, that was such delicious home-made onigiri that Miku-san had, I think I'll go back and see if I can get me some seconds. After you show me the stupid room, of course."
"Fine, you do that," Sayaka said, obviously miffed.
"Fine, I will then." Kyoko smirked. It was just too easy to get the blunette all worked up. But even though she enjoyed a challenge, that didn't make it any less fun for her. "Who knows what else she has to eat." Smiling at the fuming girl ahead of her, she kept going. "You know what I'd love tonight? Clams. Or maybe some-"
Mami heard the argument before the door had even opened. "That is so not even a meat, people don't eat that you idiot, they make hats out of them!"
"Like you know anything about it, miss know-nothing," Kyoko retorted.
"It's a big giant rodent. Like a rat. You don't eat rats."
"You eat anything you can get, when you're hungry enough." The leather-coated girl's eyes had a brief, haunted look flash through them. "When you're starving..."
The conversation abruptly died.
Kyoko and Sayaka entered the room to find Mami, Homura and Madoka already there. There were actually two rooms, a set of inward-opening doors connecting them through the mutual wall. Both looked identical, luggage rack, nightstand, long wooden desk with a television, two beds...
Two beds. "Ah, so who's sleeping where?" the blunette asked Mami.
"You, Kaname-san and I will be staying in this room, Akemi-san and Sakura-san next door," she said definitively, trying as always to make certain that Kyoko's name never came first when she was talking about more than one person.
Sayaka sighed, feeling a little relieved, and a little something else. She couldn't quite put her finger on it... One thing she did know was that she wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight. It was almost certain she'd be doubling up with Madoka, and the blunette knew from past experience that the girl had a tendency to kick in her sleep.
"Which Kaname-san?" Kyoko asked, having noticed the blonde noticing the older woman. Mami's golden eyes narrowed, sparkling dangerously, but the once-long-haired girl held up her hands placatingly. "I'm just making a point, Princess Politeness. Loosen up a bit! We're all friends here, Mami," she emphasized. "Feel free to join the club and refer to people as human beings instead of students in a class."
Mami frowned. "I'm going out for a bit. You are sleeping over there," she stated flatly, pointing through the open door to the other room, and stood up and left.
"That was abrupt," Sayaka said to herself, concerned.
Kyoko rolled her eyes. "Whatever, I'm outta here. See you fools later." And just like that, she left as well.
"I'll trade with you," Homura offered fervently.
"Uh, what-"
"Trade beds. Spots, rooms whatever. You'd rather be in there, I'd rather be in here..."
"Ah... what are you...? I... why would...? What makes you think I w-want to trade rooms?"
Homura looked at her, one eyebrow raised. "Miki-san, its painfully obvious."
Sayaka felt her cheeks coloring, a little baffled but mostly embarassed. "Wait, you think... me and... No. Noooo, no, no," she chuckled unconvincingly, even to her own ears. "You, hah, you have no idea what you're talking about..." She decided to try and turn the tables on the transfer student's invasive assumptions.
"As long as we're having this little chat, Akemi-san, can you tell me what the hell you're doing getting Madoka-chan to come wearing those... invisible panties?" Sayaka asked scathingly, having allowed the anger to simmer for the past hour. "You should have seen how freaked out she was. She's not-" Her attempt to reason with the cold transfer student broke off, the raven hair swishing through the air as Homura was instantly in her face.
"Don't you dare presume to lecture me, Miki-san," Homura said through clenched teeth, biting off each word. "You know nothing of what I do for that girl," she continued.
The blunette's eyes narrowed, leaning in so she was just an inch away from the girl's purple eyes, noses practically touching. "She's my friend, and I'm going to look out for her no matter what you say, you creepy... ERRRG!" Breaking off, Sayaka tried to convey her frustration with a growl. Homura was not impressed.
The transfer student sighed. "Miki-san... it's not what you think, exactly." Homura resisted the urge to smash the girl's nose into her brain as the blunette raised a mockingly surprised eyebrow. "You know, Madoka's been having... difficulty. Since her wish," she added, looking at Sayaka expectantly.
"Huh? I don't..." the blunette began, confused. Wait a second-
"You've fought with her. You know what I'm talking about, Miki-san!" Purple eyes gazed at Sayaka, almost imploringly, the most expression Homura had ever displayed to her. Glancing back at the bathroom door, still closed, the black-haired girl went on. "Come on, put it together, moron!"
Sayaka pushed the girl back, hard. Homura didn't have time to play any temporal tricks, and she slammed against the wall, wincing almost imperceptibly. "Nobody calls me moron, you jerk."
Homura rubbed her shoulder. "Except Kyoko," she muttered, any subtle threat behind her statement lost to Sayaka's ears.
"K-Kyoko's... different," the blunette began, but she had nothing.
"Different," Homura sneered, then the sour expression was gone and she was once again looking at Sayaka almost hopefully.
Not wanting to say it, but feeling compelled underneath Homura's intense, beseeching gaze, Sayaka put words to her fears. "It's... it's not the transformations you mean, right? She's just-"
"Shy?" Homura interjected, flipping her long black hair over a shoulder arrogantly. "Yes, I've heard it before, Miki-san. The problem is, a witch isn't going to care if you're shy or not, it's just going to rip you open and feast on your entrails."
Sayaka had found it odd that, on witch hunts, Madoka made sure everyone was looking away when she summoned her magical attire, disappearing behind corners or inside buildings. She had spent whole evenings transformed, her magic slowly draining, insistently refusing to transform back, even at Mami-san's suggestion.
"She's embarrassed! Embarrassed to transform!" Homura's voice made it clear she considered this an Incredibly Big Deal.
The bluntte's face scrunched up as she pondered. "Well, there is that bit, where we're, well...between outfits..." she fell silent, thinking of slender, supple legs, pale and creamy within a glowing field of crimson, and shuddered delightedly. Homura looked at the strange expression on Sayaka's face, puzzled, waiting for a more concrete response to her concerns.
Sayaka felt Homura poke her. She frowned. "So, it's all for Madoka's sake, that's your story? Dress her like some sleazy kitten, all to help her out, huh? Nothing to do with those creepy stares and dropping your stupid bag like a million times?" She knew she wasn't being entirely fair, but certainly there had to be a better way of going about solving this problem...
"Do you understand why I-" The attempt to explain was cut off as the bathroom door opened, Madoka's cat-eared pink head poking out.
"Thanks for waiting for me!" the diminutive girl said happily. Then her mood sputtered. "What's w-wrong? You both look s-"
Sayaka put on a big smile, which wavered only slightly when she looked over at Homura, who was wearing her innocent face, which in the blunette's opinion was one of the most pathetic attempts she'd ever seen.
"Wrong?" Sayaka scoffed. "Nothing, nothing's wrong. Are you ready to head out or what?"
"Yes I am!" the pinkette squealed, finally comfortable enough to feel the anticipation building inside her again. She gave the blunette a sly wink, well, sly for Madoka at least. Homura saw through it pretty easily, and narrowed her eyes as the girl patted her backside. "Much better now, thanks Sayaka-chan! And thanks for waiting, Homura..."
And out they went.
Thanks to all who've posted comments, as always I love them.
Regarding realism and setting: This is by no means an authentic representation of any con experience, but most of all not authentically Japanese. I don't know nearly enough about the culture, and from what little information I've gathered the experiences are quite different from more "western" cons. That said, I have very little authority to speak definitively on any topic, and con's are something I've experienced exactly once.
So, yeah, a little suspension of disbelief is required.
And a lot of the references, mannerisms, probably stereotypes and all sorts of other unconscious flavor that get's added are distinctly shaped by my own experiences. Keep letting me know when it gets too Westernized or whatever, so I can learn.
Just a heads up, they will be eating jelly donuts for breakfast.