Northwestern University Theatre Arts major Yazawa Nico had been up all night, finishing a paper. On Restoration Drama. She intended to never spend another second thinking about Restoration Drama so the only reason she was half paying attention to Radio, TV, and Film major Nozomi Tojo, was that Tojo was talking about something else. Or maybe Nico was nodding off and dreaming that Nozomi had suddenly become a Scorcese fan. At least it wasn't Tarantino. Thank the gods it wasn't Tarantino. The nodding off stopped when Nozomi shoved a printout at Nico.

"Memorize that."

"No."

"I need you, Nico."

"Everyone needs Nico. I am not reading your latest porn fantasy." Nico shoved back but Nozomi held the paper firmly in front of her audience.

"It's a legitimate project, Nico-chi." Nozomi's smile was too wide, her eye contact too skittish.

Nico leaned forward, "Legit, like for independent project credit."

Nozomi leaned forward, turquoise eyes mischievous, "Legit like will look good on Nico's resume when I walk away with the Clocktower Laurels at the next Goncharov Film Festival."

"Goncharov? Is that Russian."

Nozomi started to sparkle like a magical girl about to spin into a transformation, "You don't know Goncharov?"

"Goncharov, Chechov, if Nico has to do plays, at least make it American."

"Nah, you want English farces, Nico. Your face was made for farce."

"What the hell does that mean?"

Nozomi shrugged, "Goncharov is a crowd sourced Martin Scorcese mafia film."

"Some of those words make sense."

"People on the internet made up a thing and it went viral."

"So it's stupid." Nico was back to only half listening, debating if she should wake up fully and eat breakfast.

"No, it's genius. And it's got this great plot and Cybill Shephard was cast in one of the leads and…"

Nico understood now. "The blonde. You want an excuse to talk to the blonde. That dancer you've been stalking."

"I haven't been stalking her."

Nico glanced around the room. Yep, blonde head, by the window, looking out at the Lakefill. "This is why we're at Norris, not the dorm cafeteria, where Nico has a paid up meal plan."

"I'll buy you coffee and a donut."

Nico sat, arms crossed.

"What?"

"Go buy Nico coffee and a donut. Now."

"Read the script."

"Maybe."

Nozomi stood, shimmied into a better fit with her dress, then strolled by the blonde to get to the Dunkin Donuts. Nico saw the blonde follow Nozomi's path, sighed, and began to read the page in front of her. It was a dream sequence, two women mirroring each other, a gunshot, a woken, shaken protagonist. Quick and atmospheric. Nico conceded, to herself, that it was actually a pretty solid scene. No dialogue. Not much of Nico's time.

"I'm so sorry. I'm just so so clumsy. I didn't mean…did I ruin your sweater…" Nozomi's voice boomed out.

Nico groaned. No coffee. Maybe she could rescue the donut. Nico grabbed her bag, hopped to her feet, and went to interrupt the meet cute conspiracy that was happening with her breakfast.

"My friend's an idiot." Nico announced, strolling up, "and this was the only way she could think of to meet you."

Long eyelashes blinked over puzzled blue eyes.

Nico grabbed the donut bag from Nozomi and dropped the printout in front of the blonde. "Nico looks forward to working with you."

And Nico headed for her dorm.

###

Nico's phone went off an hour later. She was half asleep but too curious to ignore.

Nz: ( ͡~ ‿ ͡°) Eli's in.

N: 乁(◣̪◢)ㄏ

Nz: (✿ヘ‿ヘ)

Nz: And we have a composer.

Nico didn't know many music majors, how did Nozomi?

N: Composer?

Nz; yeah, she must have seen the call to collab I posted in the Beehive or the theatre building or somewhere.

N: Collab?

Nz: On the Goncharov short.

N: SOmeone actually messaged you?

Nz; You may not Tumblr, Nico-chi, but actual creatives love it.

N: Nico is creative.

Nz: Nico needs attention. Tumblr hates it.

N: Eyes are automatically drawn to Nico. Nico's TWIG game is flawless.

Nz: Some of us prefer a more anonymous experience.

N: So what's this weirdo's deal?

Nz: She's into noir and horror scores.

N: ( ͡⎚﹏ ͡⎚) Sounds cheerful.

Nz: We're meeting her tonight, after her recital.

N: We?

Nz º·(˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º

N: ᕙ(ᓀ‸ᓂ)ง Oh no, Nico is busy.

Nz: Are you going to make me go alone?

N: what about the blonde

Nico scrolled back through the messages to double check the name. Eli. Nozomi had just met Eli that morning and while Nozomi handled all situations with charm and confidence, the older sister in Nico just couldn't imagine sitting at home while Nozomi went out to meet some horror movie obsessed music nerd.

N: What time?

###

"Did you forget a mask, Nico?" Nozomi pointed to the sign.

"For the protection of the community, please wear a mask during the recital."

"What is this, a hospital?"

Nozomi smirked and put on her mask, leaving Nico to grab one of the N95s left for the audience. It took several minutes to arrange her twin tails over the head bands.

"Nico spent some time on Tumblr, on this Goncharov."

"Ooohh, research. What'dya think?"

"You want Nico to play Sofia, right? The one in the suit."

"Yes."

"Nico doesn't do suits." Nico's eyes pinched up in a judgey frown, "And it's a dream sequence, wouldn't pajamas be better?"

"But the audience shouldn't know its a dream until the gunshot wakes Katya up."

"Oh, yeah."

Northwestern's newest performance space, Galvin Hall, was about a quarter full, a hundred heads, one third students, the rest local music lovers and professorial looking people. Nico slid into a seat at the edge of the front row.

"What's Nico listening to?"

Nozomi shoved the program at Nico. Nishikino Maki, original compositions inspired by Salvador Dali and Erik Satie.

"Dali's the melting clocks guy, right?"

Nozomi nodded, doing a quick search on her phone.

"Is the other guy an artist too?"

Nozomi shook her head, "Composer. Lots of stuff for single piano, not so famous, but…"

"But…"

"Famous people paid attention to him." Nozomi glanced toward the stage, "Interesting choice."

There was a ripple of a reaction and a tall redheaded woman in an exquisitely tailored tuxedo walked out off the wings, striding piano-ward, acknowledging the audience with a brief nod.

"Suit." Nozomi hissed in Nico's ear.

Nico hummed, watching the composer slide onto the bench, fingers gracefully arched, waiting to fall into the keys. She'd never been to a piano recital before.

###

Nico didn't know if all pianists were that compelling or just this Nishikino Maki, but Nico's interest was hyped. The physicality and grace of the playing amazed her, her dance experience giving her some insight into how much effort Maki was putting into creating this music. The music itself was tightly woven emotion, wrapping itself around Nico, soaking in under the skin, leaving Nico jittery with friction she didn't quite understand. After the final note, Nozomi, seemingly not affected, grabbed her coat and barrelled to the stage, a befuddled Nico in her wake.

Nico didn't hear the quick exchange between Nozomi and Maki, but suddenly they were all three speed walking toward the back of the stage, through an exit door, and outside, where it was colder than Nico had expected. Were they going for a smoke? Why had she left her coat inside?

Maki took her mask off, her expression neutral, although Nico couldn't stop staring at the loveliness revealed. Nozomi kept talking. Nico could feel shivers about to start, so she clapped her hands together to get blood moving. At the sudden sound, Maki JUMPED, as if someone in a mask with a chainsaw had jumped out.

Nico giggled as Maki scowled at her.

"Aren't you the horror movie fan?"

"I score them, they don't surprise me, I've seen the script and the dailies."

Nico shrugged, sounded dull. "That takes the fun out."

Maki's eyebrows lowered, "Fun is successfully cracking a stalking scene so people look over their own shoulders."

"That's not really fun for Nico either."

Nozomi's lips were twitching like she was holding in a comment, her eyes merry.

Maki had a hair curl twisting between fingers, staring at the sliver of a moon.

Nico was never one for silence, especially not silence and cold. "Nico was impressed. If your movie scoring is like your playing, the emotions will definitely come through to the audience."

"Which is why it's a shame, and I think Nico-chi will agree with me," Nozomi glanced to Nico, who was too busy shivering to respond, "to only record 47 seconds of the dream. I'd like to expand the script."

"So these would be scenes adjacent to the script proper." Maki's amethyst eyes caught the streetlamp's glow.

"Yes, the intro or outro to all the Katya/Sofia scenes. Or the scenes where one might be thinking about the other."

"My schedule's packed, but I could make some time." Maki said.

Maki then turned to glare at Nico, who had advanced to hopping from one foot to the other, "Here, you're distracting me." Maki took off her tuxedo jacket, dropping it around Nico's shoulder, a musky rose and sandalwood scented warmth surrounding Nico, who hastily shoved her arms into the sleeves.

"Nico could make time."

Nozomi stepped back, whistling. "That's a good look for you, Nico-chi."

"Everything is a good look for Nico." Nico glanced down, wondering what the actual effect was, the tuxedo jacket over her pink knit sweater dress. She pulled out her phone, holding it high and talking a quick selfie.

"What's your tag?"

"Huh?"

"TWIG tag, stalker nerd."

"Maki."

Nico tilted her head, staring at Maki, not playing games.

"My account's locked. Not for strangers."

"Well, now you know Nico. Not a stranger."

"Don't tag me."

"Okay…" Nico glanced to Nozomi. Who shrugged.

"It's Nishikinoir." Maki glanced back over her shoulder, speaking to Nozomi. "I have to find my parents. Text me."

Nico started to shrug out of the jacket, but Maki stopped her with a hand on her shoulder, "I'll get it next time." And then Maki sprinted off back to the building, a barely audible, "looks good" in her wake. There was a pause in the conversation until the sound of her footsteps faded.

"Suits." Nozomi drawled, shooting the cuffs of her peacoat.

Nico glanced down at her winking selfie, tailored black smooth over pink crunchy texture. "Yeah."

A/N: Participating in the Sapphic Winter Fest, 8 weeks of prompts, started with "borrowed jacket." Goncharov has been amusing and inspiring me on Tumblr so I thought it might be fun to imagine what Muse would do with it. And thanks to ryqoshay for many Goncharov and/or suit chats.