Miku had gotten her 'don't come near me' aura down to a fine art. It radiated off her in waves, her turquoise hair signalling pain like bright colours did on animals. Manicured hands gripped her drink in a stranglehold that would've made wine snobs shiver a continent away.

Sweet, sweet white wine. Crisp and cool, and what Miku needed. In a nice, quiet bar, ready to swell with people and noise as the night wore on, time enough for Miku to get tipsy enough to deal with them. And like every time in the Magnet bar, resisting the itch to check her messages.

Work was over. That sentence was a mantra Miku held like no other, though it didn't make it more effective. She was too valuable to be replaced for not taking on the Gakupo's ridiculous 'emergencies', meaning he'd managed to mess up his computer again—something only Miku could fix, even though he was the damn manager—

A calming sip of wine. A nice, deep breath. No need to end up with permanent frown lines at twenty-five.

Even after months of this routine, Miku wondered whether she looked odd sitting there alone, wine glass next to her while she tapped away at her preferred phone game of the week. Sure, there were plenty of people who did the same thing, but most of them made the effort to change out of their work suit. This bar wasn't one for work parties crowded around tables, whinging and moaning about work until they were three beers down and blue in the face.

This was a social bar for normal, non-workaholics. A modern bar, dark and slightly unsure whether it was a club or not. She totally fit the style. Miku enjoyed work, but it wasn't like she lived it. These nights were proof. Thankfully, before her thoughts swirled away where wine couldn't fix them, the Friday night crowds were filtering in. Friends buying rounds, fellow loners eyeing Miku's spot on the barstool jealously, the chatter and music lifting slightly to shut out the outside world… This was good. This was better.

She'd barely comprehended changing from wine to a dry martini after that first glass. Maybe her brain was telling her it was time to wind down properly. Which was stupid, really. She wasn't that stressed, not really. Miku rubbed the bridge of her nose. She enjoyed her work, her brain insisted again, working its way through the fuzz of gin. She liked being around computers all day. Some of her co-workers were nice. Friendly, even. Unobtrusive. Compared to Gakupo's permanent scowl, they were a blessing. The scowl that never disappeared, even after work, vitriol packaged in curt emails. The scowl that could appear with the sound of notifications on the weekend.

Her gin looked innocently up at her from the scratched bar.

With a practised tip of her glass, the rest of her martini disappeared with a burn in its place. Miku plopped her phone in her handbag, safely squashed between her lap and the bar. The zip, barely heard over the thump of house music, was satisfying nonetheless.

The new martini in her hand was even better.

Hopefully whoever claimed her barstool enjoyed it. The less sitting down tonight, the better.

As she stood up in a rush of frustrated determination, a woman slipped into the same spot Miku was aiming for. They barely collided, but some long-overstretched thread inside Miku snapped as a splash of martini landed on her shirt.

'Jesus, this is not what I need,' Miku said, cursing. It came out with more bite than she'd intended, and a lull in the music emphasized it all the more.

'Ah, I'm so sorry! It's kind of hard to see. Y'know, with all the people.' Miku's acerbic remark had been answered with a flustered voice that still managed to sound smooth and husky. 'I have a tissue! Uh, somewhere… hang on.'

Miku, somewhat shame-faced at her own outburst, opened her mouth to apologise.

'Luka! Over here, girl!' A harsh voice caught the woman's attention, but with the owner nowhere to be seen, Luka haphazardly stuffed the contents of her bag back in. Catching a glimpse of Luka's face as she turned, Miku was surprised to see her beauty. Pink hair had been caught in a bun that looked a little too wild to be purposeful. A plain tee, covered by a cropped denim jacket led into a layered wrap skirt. Sky blue eyes with just a hint of mascara met hers for a moment, but with a swish of her skirt she was gone as quickly as she'd arrived, leaving a hint of floral perfume in her wake.

Miku shook her head slightly, moving out the way before a rowdy silver-haired guy could shove her out the way.

It was a considerable amount of drinks later. She'd reached her limit, Miku knew, and was sticking with water. Her suit had reached a similar limit, no, scratch that, definitely over. A distant thought of dry-cleaning costs was flung away by her brain. No work thoughts. No worry thoughts. Only music, dance, fun—was allowed.

Leaving her water abandoned on the side, her other urgent need making itself far too clear to finish it off, Miku wiggled through the crowd to the bathroom. Damn, but she could wear these heels all day. Even in a bar, though they were work heels, ugly, stupid work heels.

The bathroom door swung shut behind her, and Miku was quietly grateful the true party demons that frequented here hadn't corrupted the room too much.

Warm, slightly swaying even while sat in the cubicle, Miku finally let her brain wriggle in the warning that she should really go home. Her phone, screen baleful as ever, gave her one in the morning and about twenty unread messages and a handful of missed calls. Miku let her eyes glide past the group chat number without taking it in, especially what looked suspiciously like a five at the beginning. This night would end with fun. One more dance, then she'd leave.

No phone. No work.

Mind set, she went to wash her hands, and saw the woman from earlier clutching the sink. Her hair had escaped its bun, curling to her waist. Determined not to make the same screw-up as before, Miku came up beside her.

'Hey, uh… are you going to be sick? Do you need a hand, or is a friend here? I'm sorry for before, by the way.' Damn it. Of course she'd be floundering around for something to say. Why Miku ever bothered to speak was beyond her. Clearly, her floundering was having even worse of an effect than she'd imagined. Tears dripped onto the sink. 'Oh, no… do you need me to call anyone? Has something happened?'

With a sniff, the woman spoke, slurring her words through a voice clogged with tears and far too much alcohol. 'Don't worry… stupid friends, they always do this. I'm such an i-idiot,' she said, quietly accepting Miku's proffered tissue and hiccuping.

'We can share a taxi home, if they've left,' Miku said, dearly hoping she didn't sound as creepy as she felt, offering to help a girl home in a bar bathroom. She couldn't quite remember what was appropriate girl code, but she seemed so upset. And horrifically drunk, judging by her swaying. 'I'm Miku, by the way. So I'm not some weird nameless girl.'

God, she should've shut up two sentences ago. This was why she came to bars alone.

'I'm Luka,' she said, lingering on the 'L' sound. She smiled at Miku, seeming to forget her problem. 'Nice to meet you, Miku.'

Luka proffered her hand, then seemed to think better of it and stuck it in her jacket pocket. Miku wasn't sure if Luka even recognised her. But before she made up her mind to lead her outside for a taxi, Luka grabbed her bag and made to leave the bathroom.

'I forgot,' she said, taking a couple of tries to grab the door handle. 'My friend has friends, she said, before she left, I have to find them again.'

Miku tried to gather her wits quickly enough to catch her, but with the determination only a drunk had, Luka was out the door before Miku had her chance.

Well, there went her last dance. Judging from Luka's earlier demeanour, and how hideously drunk she was now… Miku took a breath, and with her bag safely hooked over her shoulder, she left the bathroom. Luka couldn't be hard to find, right? Tall, pink hair, definitely more bohemian looking than the usual clientele.

She felt a shiver run through her as she faced the throng of people still partying. Damn her height. Even if she had stilettos on, she'd barely cut five foot four. As it was now, she was two inches shorter. Cursing in a way that would've made a sailor blush, Miku pushed through, hoping to find a vantage point somewhere in the sweaty mess of people. Something in her gut told her not to trust whoever these friends were, considering the circumstances. A friend that would abandon Luka to people she didn't sound like she knew… that was no friend.

As it turned out, she didn't need one. Pink hair, followed by a loud, slurred voice was all she needed.

Good, she was heading outside. Though, was that a few more voices with her? Miku gritted her teeth at the wall of people between her and the exit, too drunk to move fast enough. Fine, she'd play dirty.

Some expert shoving and heel pressing later, Miku panted her way out on to the street. The bouncer looked at her suspiciously. No doubt she looked a fright.

'Have you seen my friend?' Miku said. 'Pink hair, stupidly tall. Very swishy skirt. Too drunk for her own good?'

'She was looking for you, I think,' he said, disinterest colouring his entire being. 'Went that way, told me she was looking for friends. Think it was the group who just left.'

Miku was gone before he'd fully finished his sentence. As she rounded the corner, avoiding cans left on the cracked pavement stones, nearly tripping over a canister, she heard voices.

'Isn't it Mayu's friend?'

'Well, yeah, but… I mean, I'm sure he's cool.'

'Yeah, but… like, shouldn't we make sure dude? Mayu's a bit sketch, and women are like, vulnerable and shit—fuck, I'm gonna vom dude—'

Miku ran up behind them as a redhead held back another guy's hair.

'You,' she said, pointed at the redhead. 'Who was the guy, and where is he?'

The redhead looked visibly relieved, despite the obvious retching from the silver-haired guy beside him.

'He's called Ken, he's further down the road. Thank god you came, I would've gone but Dex is passing out, and I need to call help,' the guy said, as Dex slumped over, narrowly missing his vomit.

Miku took off again after delving quickly into her bag, nearly tripping on her heels, and a slurred, familiar voice made itself known.

'So you're a friend of a friend, and Mayu is a nice friend,' Luka was explaining. 'But I think you're a bit close, and I don't know you that well, and we are supposed to be meeting Mayu at that party, or something. Aren't we?'

Miku picked up the pace.

A guy was next to Luka, far too close to be comfortable. They were leaning on the shutters of a corner shop, closed for the night, holding a drink each. Ken had all of his left, Luka had none.

'You sure you don't want some of my drink, Luka? And, yeah, don't worry, I'll take you to the party.'

'No… no, I don't like beer, I keep saying it, but I don't think you're listening.'

Miku gave a loud cough, and Ken had the nerve to glare at her, giving a 'can't you see I'm busy here?' look, apparently not realising she'd overheard. Or if he did, that a five foot two girl couldn't deter him.

Miku felt her knees go a bit wobbly. Well, she was here now, and she wasn't about to let Luka go off with this creep.

'I'm Miku. Luka's friend. I'd appreciate it if you let her leave like she wants to. I'll take her to the party, okay? So you can leave now.'

He didn't move, and Miku could see him trying to work out whether he could get away with it, obviously not recognising her but not entirely certain if he could push things. She swallowed nervous butterflies.

'You're Ken, right?' Miku continued, like it was just a normal conversation. 'Dex is passed out down the road. No one's with him, might need some help from someone stronger, so I'll handle Luka here. She's a silly one when she's drunk, right?'

Ken moved away from Luka, who gave a visible, relieved slump. Judging the situation as more trouble than it was worth, he gave a muttered agreement and slouched off down the road.

Miku watched him until he rounded the corner, her knees feeling like jelly. Once he was out of sight, she turned back to Luka, who had sat on the floor.

'Thanks, Miku,' she mumbled. Some of the slur had disappeared. 'Might've been wrong on the friend front, there.'

Miku gave a high pitched giggle. 'Yeah. Think I agree with you.'

Luka looked up at her. She had a slightly awed smile on her face. 'I don't even know you… but you're so nice.'

This girl was far too trusting for her own good. Miku shook her head.

'I think we need to get you home. We'll get a taxi if you live further out, the rank's only down the road.'

Luka gave a determined nod, pulling herself to her feet while gripping the wall for dear life. Miku gave a brief thanks to whatever deity was listening that Luka hadn't worn heels. She was too tall to help keep her upright much as it was. Still, Miku let her sling an arm around her shoulder. As drunk as she'd been before, and her general mannerisms, Luka was much steadier than Miku had given her credit for. The remnants of a floral perfume drifted about them at Luka's proximity, and Miku had an odd hope of not smelling like sweat.

Why did she care? After she'd made sure Luka got to her own place safely, it wasn't like she'd see the woman again. Even after all this, Luka was still affected by the copious amounts of alcohol she must've drunk. She wouldn't remember Miku. At least, Miku thought, spotting a line of black cabs, she could be happy how this night had gone. It was a strange, intimate kind of relief, helping a complete stranger like this.

While she thought, Luka had managed to disentangle herself from Miku, tottering slightly as she leant over someone's garden wall.

'Did you need me to hold your hair?' Miku said, edging closer.

'I'm fine, not going to be sick… I think,' Luka said. Miku did not trust those words. 'I just… You helped me.'

'Anyone else would have,' Miku said. 'I'm no different, really.'

'Hmph,' was all that Luka said. She seemed to be rummaging around in a shrub, poking branches this way and that. Miku wasn't sure if she was annoyed at her statement or whether the shrub had offended her somehow.

'You dropped something? I—'

'Shh.'

Miku stood, the events of the night finally reaching up and switching off any attempts of logical thought in regards to Luka. Or what she could see of her, anyway. She hoped to got the woman didn't half destroy someone's poor garden.

Finally, whatever Luka had been struggling with came together, as she pulled herself upright, somehow avoiding any twigs in her hair. Her hands were clasped together in front of her when she turned around, with a beam so bright it could've been the sun. She stood, obviously wanting Miku to come and look at whatever she'd found.

Miku moved quietly in front of her, absently questioning what kind of night this even was.

'Put your hands up. I got you a gift to thank you,' Luka said, sincerely.

In Miku's upturned hands, Luka proudly placed a large leaf. She looked astonishingly pleased with herself, even shifting from foot to foot slightly in anticipation of Miku's answer.

Miku's heart felt like it was ready to melt. She knew she'd never see Luka again after this, since she'd feel imposing leaving a number for a woman who probably wouldn't remember most of this in the morning. But she seemed so friendly, even past the horrifically drunk part, and considering her "friends" were the opposite of that… It felt wrong leaving things like this, where Luka might end up in a similar situation where no one cared.

'Thank you, Luka,' Miku said, as sincerely as she could. 'It's a really good gift.'

'Look,' Luka pointed to a tiny hole, as if it was very important that Miku should know this. 'It's a good leaf because a caterpillar liked it—ah.'

With that, Luka spun around to the shrub, and promptly threw up.

Miku was too late to hold her hair back.

They probably looked like a normal fixture for a Friday night in the city, two girl curled up on a bench, talking. If they'd looked closer, they would've seen Miku digging frantically in her handbag for her packet of tissues as Luka sniffed noisily, wiping her eyes. Miku thanked every god who was listening that she'd thought to bring some, as Luka turned out not to have any after all.

They were quiet while Miku patted the tissue gently under Luka's eyes, managing to budge her mascara enough that it wasn't immediately obvious it had smudged. She looked up at the woman, gesturing to her hair, and Luka nodded. Carefully, Miku wrapped another wad of tissue around the hair that hadn't survived the vomit attack.

'It probably sounds creepy,' Miku said, shaking her head internally at her choice in words, 'but my flat isn't far from here. Only a couple of streets down, near Crypton park. Only if you don't feel uncomfortable or anything, just so you don't have to travel while you feel sick. Taxi driver might not let you get in like that, but we can try if you want. Just so you can clean up and stuff before going home.'

'You don't live far from here?' Luka said, belatedly. She'd been looking rather intently at her hair, which Miku was giving one last go-over with the tissue. The slur had mostly gone from her voice. 'But you were going to get a taxi with me, weren't you?'

'I would've just swung around,' Miku replied. 'No big deal. I think I just needed to see you safe, rather than out here when that dickhead is still about.'

'I don't mind, then. Cleaning up at yours, that is. You're right, they wouldn't even take me now.'

'You wouldn't mind? I don't want you to feel creeped out or like you have to, or anything. I'll just stick in the kitchen or something until you go, I can just leave you to it and you can grab some water, or you can use my phone if you need to—'

'Miku,' Luka said. 'It's fine. I'm okay with it, you've been so massively helpful already… I feel bad taking you up on it. I'm just as much of a stranger to you as you are to me.'

'Oh.' Miku said, unsure of herself.

Luka gently took Miku's wrist, where she'd carried on wiping a lock of pink hair, and plucked the tissue out of it. She screwed it up, showing no signs of squeamishness at the mess, and tossed it into the bin behind them. Miku folded her hands in her lap for a moment while Luka got up.

'Do you mind if we go, then?' Luka said. 'It's gotten chilly out, and I'm sure we've both had enough of me being vomit girl.'

Miku nodded, and they set off.

It wasn't as though the silence was awkward, as they walked. This road was the longest one along the way with harsh white streetlights lining it, like its whole purpose was to dissuade recovering drunks. Luka had stopped wavering around so much, and Miku wasn't sure how much alcohol had seeped out her system. She didn't know how creepy she'd been this whole night, randomly offering a drunk woman a place clean up after following her on a whim from a bathroom. Somehow, they'd ended up here. She seemed a little more distant than she'd had been, and Miku couldn't blame her, this stranger. Luka had huddled into herself, arms crossed with a slight frown.

They rounded the corner on to Miku's street, and Miku brought out her keys with a jangle as they fell in line with her building, noting the leaf still carefully nestled in her bag's inside pocket.

'Sorry,' Luka said suddenly. Miku paused, keys clutched in her hands, ready to pull out her phone and order Luka a taxi. Strangely, and probably weirdly, she felt like asking for something, anything to get in contact. Just so she could say hello when they weren't two odd bar-goers who'd never met. Miku looked down at the cracked stone slab beneath her work shoes.

Luka cleared her throat, but it didn't seem to be at Miku's growing dithering.

'I mean, I realised I didn't actually apologise for all of this. You've gone so out of your way to help me, and you don't even know me. You—you've treated me better… Never mind. Thank you. And I'm sorry. I can get a taxi home now if you want me to, I'll take my chances.'

She said it all in what seemed like a single breath, looking at Miku with a small, crumpled kind of expression that reminded her of a kitten. An overwhelming urge to give her a hug took hold, but Miku viciously stamped it back down again.

'As long as you're comfortable with this, Luka, so am I. I'd rather help you than just half-arse it. That's just...' Miku floundered for a word. 'It's just a load of shit, really.'

Eloquent. Miku sighed at herself internally. Thankfully, Luka huffed a somewhat relieved laugh, and Miku took the opportunity to let them in.

Inside, the spotlights flashed on when they came in, shining off a grey tiled floor. They stood in a companionable silence while waiting for the lift. The fake potted plant languished next to it, in a jaunty orange pot that must've been chosen to add a splash of colour to the hall.

'That plant looks like my stomach feels,' Luka muttered.

'I don't know how they picked a plastic plant that looks half dead, to be honest.'

'That thing is plastic?' Luka said, shaking her head. 'It's always nice to know every landlord really cares. Even in a fancy building like this one.'

They were both giggling as the lift opened, bumping each other slightly as they went inside.

As they went in her flat, Luka gave a small gasp of surprise.

'Woah. Nice place,' she said, laughing at Miku's slightly inappropriate groan as she kicked off her heels. 'I guess it's inappropriate to ask what you do for work, but I'll ask anyway.'

'I do software stuff. Data analysis for a company,' Miku said, hoping it would satisfy Luka's curiosity. She did not want to think about work for the rest of the weekend. 'Uh, the bathroom is that door behind you, by the way, if you wanted it. The kitchen's opposite so you can take anything you want from there as well.'

'If I could grab a flannel, that would be great' Luka said, hiding a yawn behind her hand. 'And probably some water, otherwise my head isn't going to be friendly tomorrow. Then I'll be out of your hair.'

Miku was very glad of her cleaning spree over the week as she disappeared into her bedroom, grabbing a clean flannel from her cupboard.

'I was going to stay with Mayu tonight… before all this, anyway,' Luka said. Miku handed her the flannel, slightly embarrassed it was a similar pink to Luka's hair.

''Ah,' Miku said, trying to think of a way to phrase things so it didn't seem like she was prying. 'She's the one who left you with the others, tonight?'

'Yeah,' Luka said. She didn't elaborate. 'I… thank you. Really.'

Miku hoped, sitting on the sofa as Luka washed her face in the bathroom, even though Luka would probably leave first thing tomorrow, that maybe they'd bump into each other. She didn't want to press any sort of contact, since Luka was here because she'd had no real options, but maybe…

Miku shook her head, looking at her bag by her feet. Rummaging through it, she instinctively grabbed her phone. The screen lit up, but any itch had long since left, and she dropped it back in feeling sick at the number of notifications.

In the inside pocket sat the leaf, slightly curled now. Hopefully Luka hadn't taken the caterpillar's breakfast. Miku smiled to herself. If anything, she'd have this for a while.

'Hey,' Luka said, appearing at the bathroom entrance. Her hair was loose, and it was surprisingly long, curling damply at her waist. Her face was slightly shiny from where she'd scrubbed mercilessly at it. 'You think I'm good for a taxi now?'

'No swaying, no vomit,' Miku said. 'I think you'll be fine.'

'That's good,' Luka said. The words hung limply in the air as Luka fidgeted with her hands. 'I guess I'll be off then, Miku. Thank you, again.'

'It was good meeting you,' Miku said, wishing it wasn't all suddenly so awkward.

They were at Miku's front door now, Luka clasping her bag and shivering slightly as chilly air from the hallway crept around them.

'It really was. I'll… I'll see you around, then?' Luka said. There was something hopeful there, but by the time Miku plucked up the courage to do anything but nod, Luka had hurried down the stairs, not even waiting for the lift.

'Oh,' Miku said. She let the door shut, and the blunt thud of the automatic lock seemed to break the spell the night had left on her.

Feeling a little blank, Miku decided to go grab a shower. If anything, the hot water would rinse off the sweaty feeling and help the leftover martini fuzz. Then sleep. No thinking anymore, not tonight.

Throwing her suit in a pile to be reclaimed in the morning, Miku was about to turn on the shower when she saw a piece of paper on the cabinet. Unfolding it, a smile spread across Miku's face.

Hi, Miku! I'm a bit scared to say it in person, but I thought I'd leave a note instead, so you get to decide what to do with this. You've been an amazing friend to me tonight, when I really needed one. I don't think I can say much more on paper, but if you want to meet up tomorrow, so I can thank you properly with a coffee, or something, here's my number.

Underneath the message was a leaf, complete with a tiny hole and a caterpillar next to it, surprisingly well drawn. Her name was written in the same curling script, with a mobile number next to it.

Under the blast of hot water, Miku thought about what she'd reply over and over, putting more thought into it than any email she'd had to send for work. Sat on her bed, later, wrapped in a fluffy towel with a glass of water on her bedside table, Miku added Luka's number to her mobile.

Hi Luka! It's Miku. I hope you got home safe. Coffee sounds great, if you want to figure out the details tomorrow?

Once she'd added a leaf emoji, and a caterpillar, Miku put her phone on the table with a smile after muting her work notifications for the night. It didn't take long for her to fall asleep, her phone giving a quiet buzz just before she drifted off.

AN: My take on a prompt from Dakimomoe, for the 2020 Negitoro Summer Smash! Just a short piece, but this one inspired me :)