Chapter Text
What makes a woman?
“Hips like a bottle of good Bordeaux.”
Ulala glares at Baofu, sitting on her couch with a glass of something strong, glowing amber under the lounge light while Katsuya swats his arm next to him. “You didn’t hear that, did you, Bao?”
“God, someone’s drunk. Hey, Amano!” Baofu yells at the kitchen, where Maya’s trying to open a bottle with Artemis’s help. “Wanna take your roommate to bed?”
“Hnnn… Stupid bottle…”
“Nope? Okay.” He turns back to Ulala with a shrug, wrapping an arm around Katsuya as he shoots him a conspiratorial grin. “Suou, what makes a woman?”
“Big… muscles,” he slurs, leaning into Baofu’s shoulder like he’s done a thousand times before on nights like these. “And a big heart to boot.”
“Right…” Unimpressed, Baofu sighs, gazing up at Ulala tiredly. “If none of that helps, I guess you’re really fucked.”
“How’d y— I mean, why’d you think it was a serious question? It could’ve been rhetorical…” Ulala carefully wobbles to the free spot on the couch with a bag of sweets in hand, and lets Katsuya dip his hand in once she sits down and leans on his shoulder in turn. That’s enough alcohol for one night if it’s leading to questions like this. “You do that all the time. ‘Why’s the train so full?’ kind of shit…”
“You had that look in your eye.”
Ulala tilts her head over Katsuya’s cherry-red visage to Baofu’s smirk, not a hint of humour on her face. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m a perfectly good woman.”
“Yeah, but you can be a ‘perfectly good’ woman and not like it.” He takes a swig of his drink, not minding the glare Ulala shoots him. “It’s not a personal attack.”
“But if you can see it… I mean, not like that, but like…”
“If you didn’t mean it like that, how did you mean it?”
Katsuya moans weakly between them, shaking his head. “You’re a great woman, Serizawa-kun. Don’t listen to that guy.”
“Not what we’re discussing, Suou, but thank you.” Baofu snickers, before noticing Ulala’s cheeks drain of colour. “He won’t remember—”
“No, but… He has a point. I’m doing everything right, and it still feels like I’m… not quite there yet. Like I’m missing something.”
“You want to be a woman, right?” When Ulala nods, hesitation all over her features for reasons she doesn’t want to think about, Baofu hums kindly. “Well, there you go.”
“No…!” That sends Ulala burying her face into Katsuya’s shoulder, not worrying about her makeup potentially smearing onto his dress shirt; it wouldn’t be the first time. “It just doesn’t feel right, no matter what I do! I wear all the makeup, I dress in all the latest fashions, and I feel so fucking wrong!”
“Ulala?”
Shit! “Oh, Ma-ya, it’s okay—”
“I got the wine open!” Ulala unburies her face, only to find Maya beaming with the bottle in her hand, top shattered. “Want some?”
“Ma-ya, where did the glass shards go?”
She just smiles.
“Ma-ya…”
“Amano, they’re not in the bottle, are they?”
“Well, no…”
Asteria flies out from Ulala’s shoulders, and in an instant, Ulala spots the shards and groans in drunken agony. “Ma-ya! Don’t move… It’s only going to hurt a little—”
“Yow!”
One extraction and a Diarahan later that cures all Maya’s woes, everything’s right again. All that’s left to do is sip at cheap wine from normal glasses, and talk about everything they’ve missed in the last few weeks. It’s only once Katsuya nearly trips over the rug that Baofu calls it a night for the guys, chuckling as he hustles Katsuya to the entryway and not Maya’s spare mattress, hand lingering on his hip.
“See you at work tomorrow, Serizawa, and see you later, Amano. Suou, left shoe, left foot!”
“Sorry, Baofu…” Katsuya struggles until Baofu’s boots are on, and he leans down to help him with a snicker, gesturing to Ulala to hold him steady. “Ah, Amano-kun, are we still on for that… lunch thing you were talking about?”
“Lunch? Ma-ya, you never mentioned this!”
Maya giggles, nodding politely as Katsuya wobbles against Ulala’s sturdy grip. “I have an interview in Kounan, so I figured I’d stop and have lunch with Katsuya!”
“Oh, that’s nice…” All the alcohol makes it hard for an emotion to come to her heart readily, yet when the bittersweet taste of missing out washes over her tongue, she can’t help it cutting deep through her heart. “I hope you have a good time.”
“Thanks, Ulala!”
Katsuya might sense her pain, but as a fellow social klutz, his eagerness for a taste of a normal social life is understandable. “I’ll… Should I bring anything?”
“Just yourself!” Maya beams, before humming. “Hmmm… and maybe some fun stories?”
“I can absolutely do that,” says a man known most for his utterly mundane life. “I’ll… I’ll do something before we meet!”
“We’re meeting tomorrow.”
Katsuya laughs, painfully awkward without any sobriety to hide his nerves. “Yes! I wouldn’t miss it for anything! Ahaha… I’ll work it out.”
“Amano, you’ll make him lose sleep.” Baofu, finally done tying his shoes, stands up and pats Katsuya’s shoulder firmly. “Alright, out the door. You’ve had enough fun for one night, Detective!”
“Sorry—”
“He’s kidding, Suou-nii!” With a gentle push, Ulala urges him towards the door before they spend an hour saying goodbye. “Good night, you two! Behave in the taxi!”
“Oh, us? Behave?” Baofu shoots Katsuya a look of unbridled chaos, until his knees nearly give out in response. Someone’s tipsy! “Never mind. I’ll keep it clean if you do, Suou. See you two!”
“Bye, Baofu! Bye, Katsuya-san!” Maya reaches over to shut the door, and as the lock clicks shut, she shoots Ulala a devious grin. “So… what was that woman stuff about?”
Not even giving her a second to think! “You… You waited until now to ask that?”
“Why not?” Maya giggles, covering the apartment’s peephole before bouncing back to the living room. “You seemed worried, and… I dunno. It’s not like you to worry about that.”
What can she say? “I’ve just… wondered recently.”
“What about?”
“You know… Don’t you wonder? You’re always complaining about your big boobs and having to put on makeup every day… It makes more sense you wouldn’t like being a woman compared to me.”
“But I’m asking about you, not me…” Maya leans on the sofa back, cocking an eyebrow at her. “Anyway, isn’t it you pushing me to do all that?”
“Well, I wouldn’t call it pushing, but—”
“You do!” She giggles, falling onto the couch in a fit of laughter as Ulala races over with concern. “Heheh, but ‘lala, every day you’re dolling me up or telling me I need to fix my makeup…”
“It’s… I like helping you. It’s different when it’s you.”
“Hmmm?” Maya quirks her eyebrows skyward, lips pursed curiously. “What’s different when it’s me?”
How can she even word this? “Well… you like it.” The way Maya gazes back at her, questioningly, suddenly raises a massive wave of doubt in her heart that she quickly pushes away with a smile. “Aaaand there’s how cute you look!”
“You do it because I look cute?” Maya dodges the first part of what she says, thank fuck, but the phrasing feels odd too. Why is everything coming out strangely after that one question? “That’s sweet of you, but, y’know, if it’s just for looks, you don’t have to do so much for me. Some days we don’t even go out!”
“We work six days a week.”
“And on Sundays, you wake me up, do my makeup, all so we can sit on the couch and watch Featherman.”
Now that she puts it like that, it does feel a bit silly. “Well… I mean, isn’t that what women do?”
“I never did that growing up.”
“You had a weird childhood.”
“Your family absolutely didn’t do that either!”
Ulala groans, not liking where the conversation’s heading. “Grandma always told me a lady had to look her best at all times.”
“Your Grandma said a lot of things—”
“Not that much compared to other people. Anyway, where are you going with this?”
Maya smirks, a hint of chaos in her otherwise perfect smile. “Let’s try something this Sunday.”
“Ma-ya, if I get called out to a stakeout—”
“Trust me.”
And with two words, she seals Ulala’s fate, heart thumping in her chest with far more excitement and terror than she wants. “O… Okay.”
The glee on Maya’s face is enough to confirm this is a terrible idea, yet the hug she gives Ulala soothes the immediate bite of her anxiety, now mixing into a whirlwind of emotions that only calms when she leans down into her shoulder and inhales her fruity perfume. Peach and mango are all she needs when the monolith at the end of the week towers over everything else she has planned. Truth be told, her stomach squirms; she hasn’t brushed up against terror like this in a long time.
“Are you sleepy, Ulala?”
“Just a little,” she fibs.
“Go and clean up your makeup then!”
“Only if you join me…”
“Oh?” When Maya meets her eyes, there’s a sparkle in them. “Don’t want me falling asleep in my mascara again?”
“Ma-ya, just come with me!” Whatever tenderness slips away is replaced by annoyance, but it’s hardly serious. It can’t be when it’s Maya. “We’re going to clean up, and you are not going to leave your pillow covered in makeup.”
“It’s not that bad!”
“Sure, when you’re not doing laundry!” Ulala drags Maya up from the couch, making a big fuss about dragging her to the bathroom while she groans and giggles in equal measure for all fifteen of the seconds it takes to get there. “Just a little longer, and then we can go to sleep…”
It’s easy enough wiping all the makeup off Maya’s face with a few wipes, leaving her looking breezy and natural; it’s a lot different with Ulala, taking off her mascara-applied beauty dot and layers of foundation to reveal uneven skin that doesn’t feel like it should be on her body at all. By the time her face is natural shades with only a dash of pink in her lips, it feels like she’s looking at someone else entirely.
“I’ll be in my room!” Maya spits the last of her toothpaste into the sink, and dashes off, clattering her toothbrush into their shared mug. At least she can’t see the hollow woman left in the mirror when she yells good night to her.
What makes a woman? Without her makeup, when she takes off her clothes and hasn’t quite put on her pyjamas, is she a woman? Looking in the full length mirror in her room, she only looks like one insofar as having the anatomy that doesn’t quite fit right, and only feels like one so long as she stares at the boobs that have always felt off on her chest. Anything lower, and she’ll be off for the rest of the night. It’s only a small relief that time of the month’s wrapped up, not having to face reality so long as she keeps herself strapped into pretty underwear that definitely signals what she is, even if she doesn’t feel it.
Women are unhappy with their bodies all the time. Her small boobs are a sore point, but these days, she can’t help but wonder whether it’s because she wishes they were bigger like men would want, or smaller… like a man would h—
“Ulala, do you have a tampon?”
“Yeah! Don’t come in!” With her train of thought derailed, never to come back onto those tracks tonight, Ulala slips on her pyjama top and dips into her drawer for a tampon. If it just arrived… “What size?”
“Doesn’t matter! I’ll be up in six hours, so I’ll change it then.”
“Ma-ya!” She’d chastise her, but it’s been routine for years now. Plucking out a random one, she dashes to the door between their rooms, and slips it through. “That help?”
“Thank you!” Maya takes it quickly, and the door shuts soon after. “I’ll put my panties in the wash!”
“Put them in a bucket of cold water first, then the machine tomorrow!”
“I will!”
She can only hope so this time. Ulala sighs, slipping into bed after setting her alarm and glancing back into the mirror once more. The figure she sees isn’t much of a surprise, but in a loose fitting shirt, she can imagine all sorts of things under the fabric. It’s not her muscles that are the issue, no…
It’s getting late though; problems for another day. Under her sheets, she can escape into sleep until tomorrow comes shining through the curtains, and her alarm clock blares whatever radio station she accidentally knocked it to today.
Monday’s bog-standard. Baofu’s as combative in the office as ever, but when he meets her eyes once she walks in the door, there’s a silent understanding that never crosses their tongues. Maya doesn’t come home until Ulala’s putting dinner in the fridge, never mentioning that lunch even when Ulala prods her a thousand times.
Tuesday’s too normal. She’s out for half the day questioning a missing person’s family, and by the time she’s back in the office, Baofu’s gone, leaving only a note with a rather professional smiley face on it. How nice. By the time she picks up Maya from her office, thoughts of asking about lunch have left the building, and they spend time chatting about the new game show Brown’s going to host. It’s only once Maya’s gone to bed that Ulala remembers, swearing internally as she goes to take off her makeup.
Naturally, she calls Katsuya on Wednesday, who tells her all his funny stories. Not what she was calling about, but it’s enough to soothe her fear of missing out, laughing and chattering away while Baofu keeps bitching to turn on speakerphone. She only does for the last one, at which point he starts cackling so loudly the neighbours have to come and check on them. Who knew Katsuya could do burnouts in the police cruiser?
“I did,” Baofu snickers once the phone’s well and truly hung up, and they’re agonising over paperwork again. “That happened yesterday… so you got a story Amano didn’t get.”
“And he told you first?!”
Baofu shrugs. “I call him sometimes. Guess I got lucky this morning.”
“Damn…”
“I was gonna ask if they were different stories to the ones he told me and Amano, but I guess it was a slow morning.”
“You know Suou-nii!”
Baofu shrugs. “Something could’ve happened. Tatsuya could’ve crashed into the garage door again.”
“Don’t say that!” Ulala buries her head in her hands, before peeking out to find him grinning. He can’t be serious for one second, can he?
Thursday is so average that Ulala ends up leaving halfway through the workday for a gym session, coming back to find Baofu playing Solitaire on his computer. What can she say, other than that he’s clearly on a losing streak of Internet Hearts if he’s switched games?
“Get on, Serizawa. I’ll show you who’s the boss at cards.”
“What’s the game code?”
“F-U-C-K-U.”
“Fuck you…? Baofu!”
Friday’s fine, aside from the rainstorm that leaves Ulala’s makeup running by the time she returns from more interviews back to the Search Agency. Fixing it in the tiny mirror over the bathroom sink is far from ideal, but the look Baofu shoots her through the open door leaves her kicking it closed, cheeks burning with shame. It shouldn’t be embarrassing, but she’s fixing the cracks in her mask. What if he looks and sees something he shouldn’t?
By Saturday, she’s avoiding Maya’s promise whenever they talk, ducking out to the gym for the afternoon if it means giving her space to forget. Once she’s home, covered in sweat and glowing with the high of another successful workout, it’s a little harder to avoid as Maya peers at her on her bed.
“You’ll be mine tomorrow.”
Ulala turns pink immediately, earning a flurry of giggles. “Don’t put it like that! It’s… It’s not that serious anyway, is it?”
“Well, I guess… but I need you to come out in your pyjamas.”
Suspicious. “Why…?”
“That’s the best way to watch Featherman!”
She can’t argue with that, not when Maya’s wanting to try this ‘something.’ If all it is is watching Featherman in their pyjamas like kids, sure. That’s fine!
Still, it’s hard to sleep that night, tossing and turning in bed while thoughts rush through her head. What’s the worst that could happen? Maya could invite the guys over, and they’d see her without pants on. No… she could invite Elly or Yukino over, and they’d see her without pants on! The mortification leaves her skin hot all over, and she rolls onto her other side, sweat breaking out across her body as she realises how hot her sheets are. Shit… She has to sleep!
When the morning rolls around and she’s settled in shallow sleep, Maya knocking on her door is the absolute last sound she wants to hear. “Ulala! Wake up!”
“Ugh! Five more minutes…”
“Get up, or I’m coming in!”
That startles her awake, kicking her sheets off and pulling her shirt halfway up her body before remembering what Maya asked of her. “Shiiiit… Don’t come in! I’m awake!”
“Okay!” She giggles behind the door, and Ulala groans, unable to do anything but crawl out of her hot bed with a scowl. The last thing she wants to know is how she looks, but if she’s going to see Maya, she needs to know—
One look, and she didn’t, really. Purple eyebags line the spaces under her eyes, and her hair’s a mess, brown roots finally showing at the edges of red locks. Why today, of all days?! The unchangeable, like her body hanging under her shirt, is already hard enough.
Once she pokes her head out the door, Maya’s in her flannel pyjamas, beaming over the top of the couch. “Ulala! C’mon!” Even without a lick of makeup on, she’s still beautiful, smile enough to light up the room even though her teeth are yellow-tinged enough to betray she hasn’t so much as looked at her toothbrush yet today.
“Can we brush our—?”
“Nope. Au naturel!”
“I’m not going nude!”
“Not that kind of au naturel, silly!” Maya rolls her eyes, before scooching over so Ulala can slump onto the couch. “You look cute, ‘lala.”
“Thanks… I’ve never looked worse.”
“No, really.” When Ulala meets Maya’s gaze, there’s something unbearably earnest that makes her wonder whether something’s wrong with her. “You look cute when you’re all sleepy and fresh.”
“Fresh? I slept maybe… three hours?” But Maya doggedly refuses to stop giving her warm looks, even as she turns on the TV and flicks it over to Featherman, already starting up. Shit, she slept in late.
“Soooo… are you going to sing the song with me?”
Ulala shakes her head, before catching Maya’s sparkling eyes again. “Fuck… no, no, no—”
“Kirameku utsukushi~ kono~ hoshi!” Thankfully, she doesn’t make her join in, but she does sing so loudly that Ulala cringes imagining what the neighbours can hear. “Join in, ‘lala— oh! Yes yes, let’s go, Feathermen!!!”
Maya knows the entire song, each syllable jammed into each line, and every single pose. It’s honestly a miracle Ulala doesn’t accidentally do all the call and response instinctively, betraying she can be swayed into joining in, but she wilts on the couch as Maya bounces around the room. God, this isn’t her, is it?
She knows it too. Ulala’s always up for mischief, and normally, she’d be eager to bounce along with Maya, pretending to be something they’re most definitely not, now that they’re in their mid-twenties. Today, though? There’s only a malaise that gets worse the moment Maya plops down next to her and wraps an arm around her middle. It can’t all be because she lacks makeup and a carefully put-together outfit, can it?
“Ma-ya…”
“You’re so grumpy today… Did you sleep alright?” When Ulala shakes her head, Maya bites her lip knowingly. “Mmmm… You don’t have to worry when it’s me, you know. We’ve done this so many times before.”
There’s a question lingering on her mind now, an unspeakable wrongness that permeates everything she is so long as she’s like this. “I know… Thanks, Ma-ya.”
“You’re acting like you’ve got the flu!” Maya shoots her one of those winning Amano smiles that cheers up even the most stubborn of children, but most children aren’t grappling with identity crises that leave them feeling less than human. “What’s gotten into you, Ulala? Oooh, look, it’s a monster!”
Not even terrible practical effects can cheer her up now, but she forces a smile as a massive monster made of garbage bags traipses across the screen. “Heh… That’s what happens when you don’t take out the trash, Ma-ya.”
“You— Hey, Ulala!”
The episode isn’t actually that bad, with a nice environmental message before a mildly devastating cliffhanger regarding the ongoing arc about Blue Swan’s disappearance and Black Condor’s aloofness. When Maya clicks off the TV, Ulala isn’t even aware of herself until Maya snuggles into her arm, nestling into her shoulder.
“There? That wasn’t so bad.”
“It… Ma-ya, of course it wasn’t. We always watch Featherman.”
“Mhm! So why worry about how you look on the couch when it’s just us hanging out?”
Immediately, a hyperawareness coats her entire being, sick from head to toe as her shirt clings to all the wrong places. “It’s… It’s not really about that.”
“Then what is it about?”
“You know… me. Me being me.” When Maya doesn’t get it, Ulala groans tiredly. “I don’t look like this, Ma-ya!”
“But you do! When you don’t have any makeup on, you look the way you do now.”
No, no, no! “I don’t… That’s not it…”
“Then what’s the problem?” There’s a hint of frustration in Maya’s voice, seeping into her held-up smile. “What’s so important about the makeup?”
“It’s… It’s what makes me me.”
Immediately, Maya laughs, and it’s like someone’s torn a hole through Ulala. “Really? No way! I don’t think Katsuya-san or Baofu would say that!”
“But it’s part of what they see. It’s what everyone sees, y’know?”
“Why does it matter what they see if it’s just us?” They’ve returned to that first point, and with it, Maya’s edging closer to straight out poking the bear. “You look like you like this… That’s precious.”
“I know, but…” She doesn’t feel it, but how can she describe it? “Well… I like my life I’ve created. I do things in all the right ways, everything turns out fine, and nobody asks any questions.”
“But you’re asking questions.”
“That’s not the— ughhh!” Ulala sighs, sinking her head into the couch cushions with annoyance. “I just don’t need everyone else giving me unwanted advice about my own life!”
Maya assesses her for a moment, before wrapping her arms around her, her arms against her own chest suddenly far too obvious for her liking. “Maybe you need a change of pace.”
But how?!
“You can take little steps, but— oh, Ulala… You’re crying.”
Her face is wrinkled up, but it takes a moment for her to realise the tears have set in until they drip down from her chin onto her arms, pouring freely without thought for how it looks to Maya. “I… I need to go.”
“Ulala…”
It hurts tearing herself out of Maya’s arms, but it’s needed when she’s falling apart before her eyes. “I’ll be out soon—”
The door shuts before she can finish speaking, but it’s for the best. Tears grip her throat, and by the time she’s safe under her sheets, nobody hears her struggle for breath as the walls close in.
Nothing lasts forever though. After a hot shower, indulgent lunch, and long gym session, Ulala runs into Maya in the living room, vacuum cleaner in hand. “Oh, Ma-ya!”
“Ulala! Are you cleaning again?”
Relief floods her body as she nods, leaning against her door rather than going through. “Just thought I’d get on top of the dust.”
“Awww, you’re so kind!”
She wasn’t intending to do Maya’s room, but if it gets her off her back… “Of course, Ma-ya. I’ll see you soon.”
When she giggles, it’s as if the world lightens up around her. “Say, want to do that thing again next Sunday?”
“What thing?”
“You know… Featherman and Pyjamas!”
“You’ve got a name for it now?”
Maya shrugs, smiling even as Ulala’s heart curdles inside her sports bra. “I mean… it was fun!”
For her, maybe. “I dunno—”
“You don’t like the name?”
“Uhhh… I don’t think it’s that…” But that is true, if he’s honest; can Maya tell?
“We could invite the guys!”
“Nope.” Ulala winces, shaking her head with nervousness. “No way in hell.”
“Okay… so just us, Sunday morning?”
Shit, she’s really not going to let her leave without a yes. “Okay…” Ulala lifts her eyebrows and forces a smile, and that seems to be enough for Maya, even if her face falls the moment she steps into her room. “I’ll see you soon.”
“See you soon, Ulala!” Once the door shuts, she lets out a long breath, and plugs the vacuum cleaner in. In the very least, she doesn’t want to hear her thoughts for a while; at most, she doesn’t want to remember there’s a roommate next door who’s poking at her carefully crafted life, and if she’s careless about it, she’s going to bring it all tumbling to the ground.
What can she do?