Mitsuru Kirijo was a busy woman.
Things like student council, being the daughter of the leader of the Kirijo group, learning to manage the family business, school reports, meetings, speeches, schedules—all these took up most of her time. She should have expected another to add onto the heaps of her stressful life.
Arisato.
Definitely a born troublemaker, if the status reports she received from Arisato's previous schools were any indication. Information regarding pranks on teachers, staff—anything that caused problems, it all lead back to Arisato. She seems to have a long record of past, troublesome experiences. Mitsuru wonders if these juvenile acts of delinquency had anything to do with poor parenting. There must be some sort of reason for such behavior.
She sighs, putting away the stacks of papers off to the side; clearing her piled desk from loads of white pages and black prints. When was she going to get any rest?
"Mitsuru-senpai~!"
Not any time soon.
Mitsuru couldn't fathom how energetic Arisato was. Where did she get all the energy? Kirijo didn't bother moving, remaining seated in her special leather chair; waiting for that maniac to come barging in any second as she mentally prepared herself for the worst. Arisato was a force to be reckoned with.
"You need to learn how to relax." Mitsuru ignored Arisato's blatant stare, not expecting the girl's quiet entrance. Looks like she won't have to repair her door this time.
"And you need to learn how to behave." Kirijo smoothly replied, steeling herself for what's to come. Knowing Arisato, anything can happen and unfortunately, Kirijo can't analyze the girl because she was just so different. Arisato was an equation—a problem she couldn't solve. Would she ever be able to?
"I will," the rebel states; her warm, friendly smile taking even the Kirijo heiress off balance, "if you will."
Arisato never ceases to amaze her.
"Very well," and Mitsuru allows Minako to take her away from that stuffy classroom, the suffocating piles of work, the weight of responsibility—with a gentle, strong pull of her hand.
Mitsuru wondered if there was something on her face.
Because here she was, legs crossed beneath the table as she idly twirls the spoon between her thumb and index fingers in her cup of pheromone coffee. She didn't miss the rebel's supposedly subtle glances every ten seconds. Mitsuru brings her cup to her lips, hiding a knowing smile as she sips a small amount of warm liquid; feeling it tingle against her tongue as she savors the taste and Arisato's fail to steal glimpses without attention. The student council president would've pointed it out, but she found it muchmore enjoyable to let Arisato revel in false thoughts as she pretends to remain unaware.
The café flitted with status. Patrons were of high-class, suits and formal dresses were the only ones occupying the vicinity. Mitsuru thinks, perhaps this was the reason for Arisato's strange behavior? Setting her cup down softly, strong crimsons flicker to rebellious carmines; her irises swirling with tinges of concern.
"Arisato, if you're bothered—"
"You're not like what everyone else says."
The Kirijo heiress stopped short at the rebel's sudden comment; craning her neck ever-so-slightly at the younger brunette. Arisato smiles wistfully, her tone pensive and Mitsuru was taken aback at the sudden shift in mood. The once lighter atmosphere turned tranquil, and Mitsuru doesn't respond; she wasn't sure how. Arisato brings her own cup—hot chocolate, to her mouth before speaking again; the heiress unconsciously following the motion of the rebel's tongue as it reached for a stray drop.
"People don't seem to take the time to get to know you," Mitsuru's eyes shoot back to mirroring scarlet, Arisato's ruby pools never leaving her's as she placed her cup atop the table. The rebel leans back in her seat, a twitch of a smile playing on the corner of her lips. "do they..?"
It was a statement rather than a question as Mitsuru stared long at Arisato; searching for anything that would tell her exactly what the girl was thinking. The rebel - to Mitsuru's pleasant surprise, never turned away.
She fights head-on, Mitsuru idly muses, finally allowing a small chuckle to escape her throat; the sound seemingly taking Arisato off balance.
"Indeed," the student council president admits, realizing that Arisato was merely analyzing between rumors and truths, "but then I also admit to pushing them away." Arisato just grins and Mitsuru can't keep a smile from taking her face; her cool mask easily wiped.
"I guess I'm truly irresistible then," Mitsuru watches as Arisato cleans a stain from the corner of her mouth with her thumb; Kirijo smirking to herself as she sights a napkin beside the rebel's cup as the girl motions to stand, "if that means even the great, student council president enjoys my company."
And Mitsuru doesn't complain when the rebel takes her hand a second time that day towards the arcade.
When she thinks about it, it's weird; their relationship.
They haven't really spoken about it either and Yukari realizes that she had no clue what to call them. What, were they friends? Best friends? Classmates? Acquaintances? Friends with benefits?
Yukari grins at the latter, remembering Minako's precision with stealing bits and pieces of her lunch until there was nothing left. Was that what they were? But then there were also other times where confusion rises at its best. Minako's affectionate glances, touches, behavior, actions. If they were just friends, was kissing a part of it? Was that normal? Yukari wouldn't know because she never really had friends; people she could trust. All she ever needed was herself and that was all that mattered.
"Why are you hanging out with me?"
Yukari probes, dripping with nothing but pure curiosity as she stares at the rebel whilst she carved scribbles discreetly on her desk. Yukari doesn't bother stopping her anymore, simply avoiding any unnecessary outbursts and embarrassing comments that would surely come out of Minako's shameless mouth. She seriously needed to find out how to censor the troublemaker's remarkable lips from saying things that could possibly end their lives. Or worse, facing Kirijo's infamous execution.
"Why not?" Minako merely retorts, not turning away from her stick drawing as she continues to blatantly vandalize the wooden table. Yukari sighs, exasperated as she crosses her arms atop her desk and lies against it, head facing the rebel. Class hasn't started yet so she doesn't have to worry about getting reprimanded for not paying attention.
"It's just," Yukari pauses, thinking how she should phrase her words to accurately explain the situation, "you're really popular, I'm surprised you aren't hanging around with the higher ups." Minako only gives her a scrunched expression; brow raised.
"I should say the same for you."
Yukari couldn't argue with that one.
"So why don't you?"
It was Minako's turn to ask the questions, mimicking Yukari's position as she relaxed against her custom-designed table.
"I don't really like big groups."
"You mean you don't like the people associated with big groups."
Yukari shrugs, a small smile taking her lips.
"That too," she had to admit, Minako was pretty accurate with her guesses. Despite being the rowdy rebel and top-notch slacker, Minako also has her fair share of good, keen characteristics. "you?" Yukari only grins at the response she half-expected.
"I just like you."
Minako never shied away whenever she revealed words everyone else considered rather intimate. She won't shift her attention anywhere else unless she was sure the receiver understood. Yukari finds that admirable; endearing. It was a very attractive trait to have.
"I had a feeling you'd say that."
Minako only responds with a charming smile. Yukari couldn't keep from poking the rebel's cheek with her index finger; a shy, but appreciative gesture. She doesn't know how else to take Minako's innocent confession.
The red string of fate.
Yukari couldn't believe this was actually a lesson worth teaching. Honestly, what was there to really learn about? That there's an invisible string linking two people together and that someday they'll find in each other the other half they've been searching for? It's nice to hear as a story—a myth, but that's all there is to it. It was just a legend; created as something for people to believe in. She wasn't much for fantasies and things like fate or destiny.
"I wonder who I'm linked with..?"
And Yukari couldn't believe that Minako—of all people, would fall for a silly, make-belief like this. Out of the two of them, Yukari highly doubted the rebel cared much for story-telling. There was a lot that Arisato cared little for; like homework, assignments, school, buying her own lunch, getting to school on time, the feeling of guilt whenever she steals her seatmate's food—there were countless things Yukari could name that Minako didn't feel much for.
But then that pops the big question; what does Minako care for?
"What do you think?"
And Yukari jumps slightly at being suddenly addressed, rubbing her side where Minako had vehemently poked at. Yukari knows her glares never work, but she tries anyway; ignoring that trademark smirk adorning the dark-haired brunette's lips. Yukari wants to shove that annoying look off her seatmate's face, but in the back of her mind, she knows that Minako wouldn't be the same without it.
"Think about what?"
Suddenly those ruby eyes feel like they're telling her something. Yukari squints, unconsciously inching closer and for the first time since she has met the rebel, she looks. She really looks. The shape of the rebel's lips, the curve of her nose, her creamy complexion, dark-strands of brown curling around her face, those carmines—Yukari's breathless when she realizes just how dazzling the troublemaker really was.
She's really pretty,
"Are you planning something dirty in that cute, little head of yours?"
Light feelings immediately fade into the air when Minako's voice snap Yukari back to reality. Minako's expression was a mix of concern and curiosity but that smirk of hers still hadn't left. Yukari scoffs, leaning back in her chair but not without noting their close proximity a few seconds ago. Her cheeks begin to burn.
"It should be me asking that." Minako only laughs, her carmine pools swirling with waves of emotion Yukari can't quite decipher. She doesn't realize she's staring again.
"You really gotta stop doing that."
"Doing what?" Minako crinkles her brows at Yukari's response. Apparently she was still doing it.
"That look,"
"What look?"
Yukari doesn't understand the confused gaze Minako was sending her. What?
"As if you love me."
And she slaps Minako's shoulder, snorting at the rebel's suddenly smug expression. Yukari couldn't help but grin childishly, laughing as she leaned against the rebel's shoulder.
"You're so full of it." Yukari counters, hoping that Minako wasn't going to comment on her action. She just feels sort-of giddy at the moment, content to just rest her head on the suddenly silent rebel.
"So," she feels Minako's shoulder shift slightly to a more comfortable position, "do you believe in that red thread of fate?" Yukari honestly doesn't care, but there was something laced in the troublemaker's tone that kept her from voicing out. Yukari only shrugs, ignoring the growing fact that more and more heads were turning towards their direction. It's only a matter of time before the teacher turns from his black board to see them too.
"Well," Yukari starts, ignoring audible whispers surrounding them, "it'd be nice to believe in something, I guess." Minako only hums in response, seemingly oblivious to the apparent attention of classmates seated nearby. Yukari only rolls her eyes when people start pointing fingers at them to show their friends.
Very subtle, Yukari thinks, sarcasm slipping off every word. It was none of their business anyway.
"They're just jealous." Yukari raises an eyebrow, looking up at Minako's face; questioning.
"What for?" And Yukari was definitely not prepared for another lip assault. Her mouth parted, cheeks ablaze with ecru eyes wide as saucers at Minako's feather-light touch on the bridge of her nose. She could hear the people around her squeak in surprise.
"That you get another one of my kisses."
It wasn't a surprise when there was a sudden influx of rumors flying about the next day. Yukari have always hated rumors, but getting bothered about it constantly was just ridiculous.
"What, are you guys like, together or something?"
Yukari wanted to roll her eyes as she reached for her bow. Unfortunately, gossips don't stop during club practice. She ignores the scrutinizing stares from various members as she fixes the string.
"Or something."
Apparently her club mate wasn't satisfied with her answer, nosily probing for more and Yukari has the burning urge to just yell at her face and leave her alone. Some people just don't get what was and wasn't their business.
"C'mon Yukari," her brown hair swaying swiftly as she hurried to put on her attire; tugging on her gloves as she continues to attempt to avoid the underclassman - to no avail. "what's the deal with you two? Always hanging around together."
Yukari wants to scoff but doesn't, outwardly keeping her cool front as she shrugs; non-chalant. She knew that if she blew up now, her classmate would get something out of it and Yukari doesn't want that. She learned from experience that silence was a harsher treatment.
"People are starting to talk, y'know." Yukari stands a few feet away from her target, positioning herself comfortably over the wooden floors and raises her weapon; taking aim as she pulls her arrow. She doesn't let go just yet, calculating the distance, the rotation, the degree of her bow as she steadies herself. She allows only the movement of her lips to function as she keeps still.
"And I care because..?"
"Well," Yukari hears her junior nervously pause, letting out a small breath of air leave her throat, "you aren't bothered being labelled a 'hot lesbian with her dike rebel'?"
Yukari releases her arrow with a force she didn't realize she had; beheading her dummy target. She was rather satisfied, however, when she hears her junior gasp audibly; catching her cover her mouth with her hands. Yukari inwardly smiled at frightening the nosy underclassman.
"Rumors are just rumors," she says, walking back to the platform to grab another arrow. She took note of the anxious looks she received from various members and took pleasure out of it. "they mean nothing to me."
Yukari finally allows a grin to show on her face when practice ends, sighting Minako waiting for her by the door. When the troublemaker spots the uncharacteristic expression on Yukari, Minako had to ask.
"Did something happen?" Yukari merely chuckles in response, linking her arm with Minako's as they walk down the hall. "And don't bother lying, you suck at it." Minako finishes as they round a corner. Yukari allows herself to roll her eyes as she shoves the other girl playfully.
"Geez, aren't you sweet." Sarcasm slipping off her tongue as she ushers Minako out of the school. The rebel laughed when Yukari pinched her arm; visibly not as painful as she thought it'd be.
"Yeah well," Yukari pulls her over towards a store in Paulownia Mall, the sparkling jewelries stealing her eye, "hopefully you don't get a cavity or something."
"Do you believe in love at first sight?"
Yukari doesn't know what's gotten into Minako to ask such a question, flipping a page of her magazine as she discreetly glances over to the rebel. The girl was lying on the long-brown-leather sofa; feet dangling off the arm rest as Minako lazily clicks through channels. Yukari crosses her legs, allowing her brows to crinkle as a seemingly bloody scene takes the screen of the tv. They were back at their dorm, lounging in the lobby as students non-chalantly passed by, sending them stolen glances that Yukari thought would only ever be given at school.
"Don't you dare say you do and follow up with some sort of cheesy pick-up line." Yukari snaps lightly, ecru flicking to briefly meet smiling carmines before shying away back to her magazine in hand. It was nobodies business but their's, shooting quick glares to those passerbys still staring. She hears Minako laugh gently, the couch making a squeak as the girl re-positions herself for a better view of the movie; forcing Yukari to adjust from the change in elevation. "It's gonna take a lot more than that to make meswoon." Yukari adds, turning another page.
"—Because I don't." And Yukari can hear her shift over to the other side of the sofa; closer towards her. "You aren't someone I'd fall in love with first glance."
Should she feel offended?
Yukari scoffs, ignoring the sight of a grinning Minako as she turns away in her seat.
"I need to stare at you more than that," and Yukari's hating how her face is getting hot when she feels movement loom closer to her; beside her. "to find you attractive."
Yukari can feel Minako's red eyes blaze her left cheek. Yukari feigns indifference as she leans her elbow on the chair's arm; resting her chin against the palm of her hand as she turns her head more towards the right, glaring at the black screen of the tv. She can see Minako next to her through its reflection, but it wasn't clear enough for the finer details; like the rebel's expression.
"You—" Yukari wanted to comment, muttering under her breath but Minako beat her to it.
"But the more I look I'd realize," and Yukari doesn't know what to feel when her other hand is taken from her lap to entwine with calloused, "just how much time I've spent watching you."
Yukari's afraid of what she might find on the rebel's face, so she doesn't look; feigning indifference as Minako continued on.
"And maybe that is love at first sight, because I hadn't looked at anyone else but you."
Yukari finally turns her head, a lopsided smile illuminating her lips as she gazes into those warm smiling carmines. She doesn't flinch, doesn't shrug away because she figures someone as sweet as Minako doesn't deserve a cold shoulder like that. Yukari can hear the hushed whispers surrounding the lobby, but she doesn't care as she gives the rebel's hand a gentle squeeze. She wants to laugh when audible gasps reach her ears, instead, allowing a sly smile to take her face as she remarks; winking playfully at the suddenly shy Minako.
"...You still followed up with a cheesy pick-up line."