Chapter Text
Walking quietly beside Zuma, Ken felt the evening autumn air attempting to draw every bit of heat from him as it crawled across his skin with each little gust. The thunderous concert of his pounding heart had died down mostly but the hot blush of his cheeks refused to disappear, worsening the bite of the cold air against his face. He needed a distraction desperately or he'd spend the entire walk home without saying a word. Miss Ayase had been a dominating feature of his dreams for a decade and with just a simple re-introduction, she had a tight grasp on his conscious mind as well.
Thankfully, Zuma once more took the opportunity to anchor Ken to the real world. "You good, man?"
Clearing his throat, Ken stumbled over his words for a moment, "Y-Yea… I was just wondering how the band all got together…"
He lied. The only thoughts on his mind were how her eyes had gotten more beautiful with time and how badly he wanted to get lost in them. How he'd happily give her anything she ever wanted if it meant he could just run his fingers through the divine silk of her hair. "H-How did all of you meet, anyways?"
"That is a bit of a long story, honestly. Before all of us got together into the current setup, the lounge had a pretty rough go of it when it came to stable performers just cause not everyone is a big fan of how Granny and Seiko run the place. I've known them for a major chunk of my life so they've never bothered me."
Shocked, Ken stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face him, "D-Does that mean your parents would take you to the lounge as a child?!"
Zuma couldn't resist letting out a deep laugh. "Not really. I lost my family when I was really young and ended up turning into a little shithead for a while. I was in and out of trouble for a good bit before I got picked up by this hard-ass of a cop named Vega. He'd work security at the lounge when he could and he'd drag me along so I could earn some money while he kept an eye on me."
Their walk beginning again, Ken waited through the silence, unwilling to interrupt Zuma's story again. Having lost his own mother as a young boy, he knew it would only do harm for him to inquire further on that subject.
"I think Seiko decided spending my weekends at a bar as security wasn't good enough so she asked if I wanted to learn to play and join the band. I don't think she would've taken no as an answer so I don't really think I had a choice... So I learned to play standing bass from the bassist at the time and when he left, I joined the band. I kept performing all through high school and college since the money was good and this place had just become a second home, y'know?" Zuma gently nudged Ken with his shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile.
Once Ken had responded with a nod, Zuma continued. "Anyways, there's the prestigious high school in one of the cities nearby that offers a pretty music centric curriculum that Seiko pulled some strings at to get me a full time job as a physical education teacher. That's where I ended up meeting Jiji, Koki, and Rin. Jiji's on the music staff, Koki teaches microbiology and Rin teaches literature. Seeing as the lounge was struggling for a consistent musical act, I immediately asked Jiji if he wanted to join the band and thankfully, he didn't take much convincing. Apparently, he already knew Seiko from when he was a kid so I really did get lucky on that one. He is a goofball most of time but I don't think there's many who could best his overall talent when it comes to all the instruments he can play."
Ken gently pressed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as he thought back over Jiji's performance earlier that night. The red haired renaissance man had effortlessly jumped between trumpet, alto saxophone, and even the guitar for Ken's requested song without a single complaint. It wasn't hard to see why Zuma had such a respect for him.
"Couple months later, I happened upon Koki and Rin in the music room after school hours doing a duet. I couldn't believe how powerful Rin's voice was while Koki played away on the piano. I just waited out in the hallway til they were done and then asked if they'd join. Koki took a little while to decide but eventually she came around. Rin prefers to only perform certain songs so she only joins us when she's feeling confident enough. You really are in for a treat on Saturday though, because when Rin sings, the whole place just stops. It's incredible! We usually reserve her for the last song of the night and people are more than happy to wait just to hear her belt one out."
"How often does she sing?"
"Maybe once or twice every couple months. Any time she does, Granny goes nuts promoting the event. Granny has this way of just whipping people into a frenzy. She could probably convince the dead to crawl out of their graves to attend a show if she was given enough time to prepare."
The visual of a rotting corpse ordering a drink from a terrified Miko filled Ken's mind for a moment and he chuckled, thankful to Zuma for finally fully distracting him from his dream enchantress. "What about Miss Vamola and Miss Shiratori?"
"Ah yes, those two joined soon after but how they joined couldn't be more different. With Rin not willing to sing all the time, we were on the hunt for a vocalist as well as a percussionist since Jiji can't play everything all by himself, though he claims he can. Granny already knew of Aira from a burlesque club in the city like I mentioned the other night so she scouted her out pretty quickly and got her to join. Aira, Koki, and Rin all went to the same high school so they all were rather happy for the reunion which made acclimating into the band a little easier for everyone. As for Vamola…"
Ken quirked a pierced brow, turning his head to look at Zuma who was lost in thought for a moment.
"We really don't know that much about Vam-Bam. She just responded to an audition notice from Granny, showed up and absolutely killed it. No one knows what she does for a living or where she lives. She's just there for every show and practice with that big beautiful smile of hers. If you ask her about her life, she just deflects or gives an overly vague answer. Jiji is convinced she is some kind of retired international spy since she speaks Japanese so well. He claims that she let slip once that she lived in the US before Japan but it is none my business. If she wanted to share, she would have so there's not point in trying to squeeze the info out of her. She shows up, she kicks absolute ass on the drums, she is the kindest person I've ever met. That is good enough for me!"
Once more, Zuma hooked an arm around Ken's shoulders. The warmth of the walking embrace would have felt rather nice if not for the fact Ken's clothes were still slightly damp and pressing them to his skin sent terrible cold shivers throughout his body.
"It's been a few years now that we've played together without any major issues. We have been through 6 singers in that time though. They either get full of themselves and cause friction with everyone else or they do something that Granny and Seiko don't approve of which means they are instantly kicked out. The last one got hammered one night and took a pass at Seiko herself. I don't know why she ever thought she needed Vega or I for security because the way she beat the living shit out of that guy, I know for a fact an army couldn't stop her. Hell, she'd probably have me knocked out cold before I even knew we were fighting!"
Turning the last corner, both of them began to ascend the stairs towards their apartments as Zuma released Ken from his gentle hold. With each step, Ken did all he could to think of a way to keep talking to Zuma, anything to prevent the inevitable crash back into his irrational boyhood obsession. "D-do you have plans tonight? We could grab a bite to eat after I grab a quick shower."
Cresting the landing of their floor, Ken already knew the answer when Zuma gave him a dejected smile, "I can't tonight, I'm sorry man. I've got a date but I definitely want a rain check on that dinner, alright?"
Ken gave a soft nod and gave his best attempt at an understanding smile, "No worries. I'll see you Friday evening then, right?"
With Ken stopping at the door to his apartment, Zuma slipped by but made sure to pat him on the shoulder upon passing. "Of course. Everyone is beyond psyched for your first show and I promise, you're going to be rolling in the praises afterwards! Momo's going to get you all sexed up and folks will be rushing the stage to get their very own piece of Ken Takakura."
Ken's face burned brightly with a fluorescent blush at the idea of Miss Ayase doing absolutely anything like that with him, even if it was just slang for finding some better fitting clothes. Attempting to hide the shining beacon that was his cheeks, Ken nodded quickly before barreling into his apartment. "C-c-can't wait! Goodnight Zuma!"
The sound of Zuma's chuckling ended rather abruptly as Ken closed the door behind him, the silence of his apartment only amplifying the sound of his heart once more attempting to escape his chest. Leaning back against the door, Ken brought a fist up to his forehead and proceeded to deliver several gentle blows to the front of his skull.
He was acting like a child with a schoolyard crush, wholly incapable of handling even the mention of her name without dissolving into a abashed puddle. It was clear she didn't remember who he was and for whatever reason, the very usage of his name was an affront to her. Perhaps Miko had talked him up to Miss Ayase but upon actually seeing him, all Miss Ayase could feel was disappoint… he couldn't blame her though. That was all he felt when he looked at himself in the mirror so how could he expect any better from anyone else, even her?
Removing himself from the door, Ken began to undress on his way towards the bathroom as he let out a deep sigh. He knew a hot shower would do him some good but as he turned on the water, a thought occurred to him that froze him in place. It was probably for the best that she'd avoided using his name. He knew that if she looked him in the eye and said his name with any level of compassion and knowing, he'd be hopelessly lost to her forever, somehow even more so than now. Coldly, he reminded himself that he was just a stranger to her just like everyone else he had ever met.
Ken slowly removed the tie from his hair and ran one of his hands harshly through the mess of strands. He needed to get his expectations under control. They needed their singer to look good and had tasked Miss Ayase with helping out. Nothing more.
The fact that the university library was open 24 hours had always been a boon for Momo. At 2am, there was no struggle to find a table where she could just splay out everything she needed to get her work done. Even if there were others studying at this hour, who in their right mind would start a conversation with a a total stranger? It was prime 'get shit done' time and she needed this total isolation from distractions to get through some of the more painful to complete assignments. Writing briefs for mock trials had always been her least favorite part of her future chosen profession, they were just so damn dry and formal. Pages upon pages of referential information meant to explain in entirety the basis of your case. It was about as fun as watching paint dry but at least she always had him to keep her company.
With all of her materials spread out, she set her phone on the table and took a minute to find the perfect song to keep her awake as she worked. Though a large portion of the covers that Okarun posted were on the slow side, more than few did have the energetic pep that she was looking for to keep her pushing forward to finish this damned assignment. One by one, she pondered each option before a smirk found itself upon her face and she felt the gentle bite of her top teeth into her lower lip. She took a moment to look around, ensuring that she was entirely alone in this portion of the library before she slipped the headphones out of her bag and upon her eagerly awaiting ears.
A soft blush gathered at her cheeks as she pressed the play button and watched the text begin to slowly crawl across the screen.
Now Playing: Fear & Delight - Okarun (Piano only cover)
As she began to type away on her laptop, it became abundantly clear that something was wrong with the audio file. She could clearly hear the piano parts but each word sounded muffled and distant, utterly ruining the entire reason she picked the song in the first place. Frustrated, she checked the connection of the cable to her phone and inspected the wire for damage but found nothing to be the origin of her auditory blue balling. Letting out a deep sigh, she tore the headphones from her head so she could check them for damage. They were cheap and flimsy so it wasn't an outrageous idea that yet another ride through her poorly organized bag had finally made them give up the ghost. Much to her surprise as they were unceremoniously yanked from her head, Okarun's voice instantly became much clearer and certainly much closer.
Her face locked in a look of shock, she swung her head around wildly as she searched for the source of the singing. It tickled at her ears like a whisper, so tenderly soft and dripping with what felt like a lusciously teasing tone.
I don't show it but I quiver whenever you come near, And I cannot decipher between the thrill and the fear
The source had to be close by but no matter the direction she looked, it eluded her but thankfully not for much longer. Momo nearly screamed as she felt the sensation of fingertips sliding along the inside of each of her legs just above the knee, her hands moving to clasp over her mouth to contain any of the cry that may have slipped out. A beaming blush clinging to her cheeks, Momo leaned back in her chair quickly and prepared to kick the ever-loving fuck out of whoever the hell was under the table.
At her feet sat Okarun, an infuriatingly smug smile on his face as his fingers danced along the skin of her exposed legs, his dark peat eyes slightly obscured by the shine of his round spectacles. Momo felt the overwhelming urge to drag him from beneath the desk and throw him out of a nearby window but with a gentle press of his lips against the burning skin of her thigh, Momo's desire for violence entirely disappeared.
I'm an innocent being seduced by your charms, I'm a young boy tickled to death in your arms
Every little lyric sent a cascading wave of heat through her body as he dragged his lips along teasingly, never pulling them away so as to not starve her of the delectable vibrations each word delivered as he sang to her. Teasing fingers drew small circles as they ventured along the exposed skin at a coquettishly slow pace. Letting out a shaking breath, Momo unclasped her hands from her mouth so she could squeak out a rather aggressive whisper, "W-w-what the fuck are you doing!?"
Okarun's fingers played at the hem of her long skirt, silently requesting permission to venture beneath as he shot her a wink. "You wanted me to keep you awake… so I'm just doing as you asked." Another kiss was delivered to her goose bump laden skin but this time he had the audacity to follow it with the smallest of bites.
Momo's hands once more clasped over her mouth, doing all they could to contain the quivering moan that fought to break free. Gritting her teeth, she took in a series of forced breaths and tried to maintain what little composure she had before speaking once more. "Someone is going to see you, you… you… squidface!" She immediately regretted her inability to come up with creative insults on the fly as his rumbling low laughter sent bolts of lightning up her spine.
"Don't worry, Momo… No one is gunna catch us…" His fingers slid beneath her skirt, the wonderfully long digits beginning to massage into the muscles of her inner thighs. "All you need to do is work on your assignment. I'll sing to you and praise you… do all that I can to keep you awake."
More barely contained moans slipped through her fingers as she felt herself melting beneath his touch. The heat of his breath on her inner thigh as his kisses moved upwards past the edge of her skirt was enough to fully obliterate whatever remaining resolve she still claimed to have. Momo didn't give a shit if the entire student body was suddenly in the room with them, she'd just tell them to keep it down while she listened to Okarun's ethereal humming as he showered her burning flesh with wanton kisses.
Clearly this was a dream but she didn't care. She wouldn't struggle against the thoughts that been slowly building up within her subconscious for a decade. Okarun wasn't just a voice anymore and now she was free to spend as much time in her dreams as she wanted doing wonderfully terrible things to that surprisingly cute pierced face of his. Each time he planted a kiss upon her, she could feel the cold metal before the flood of molten hot breath, the intertwined sensation an intoxicating combo that threatened to drive her mad in the most tantalizing of ways.
Down the black hole of my lust I descend
Going slack in her chair, she allowed her body to slip further down into the seat to give him more access. Ever so eager to accept the gifts she gave, Okarun's fingers moved to the creases of her legs against her hips, his digits massaging along the edge of her underwear. His mouth though refused to quicken its pace, keeping that damnable slow meander as he kissed and nipped his away along the delicious skin. Though she loved the teasing, 12 years had been a long enough time to wait. Her mysterious singer had a form now, one that she would spend an entire lifetime committing to memory. The elongated slimness of his stature, the enticing quick of his dexterous fingers. That tangle of hair tied back loosely and ever so grabbable. Her hands snaked down to where he delved, each of her fingers greedily sliding into the jungle of long and scruffy black strands. Unable to stop herself, she raked her nails tenderly against his scalp to see if he would enjoy the sensation.
"Mmmmm… Momo… "
She could hear the same lust in his voice and it caused the pooling desire in her lower abdomen to erupt with a desperate and feral need. Pulling on his hair ever so gently, she led him exactly to where he should be. Kiss after kiss was delivered to sodden cloth, Okarun's continued humming of the song causing each touch of his lips upon hers to send euphoric shivers throughout her entire body. She reveled in his eagerness to please and just as she felt him sliding the soused cloth aside, the warmth of his inky dark hair suddenly disappeared.
"Momo? Momooo?" Suddenly, another voice filled her mind, much higher in pitch and annoyingly more feminine.
Her head shot up so she could look at him but he was gone, leaving behind nothing but her hands clawing at empty air and a series of hickeys on her thighs. "No… No… No! You're not done yet!"
"MOOOOMOOOOOOO!!!"
Nearly slamming against Kei as her upper body shot forward to sit up in bed, Momo panted heavily with a blush bright enough to be seen from the next city over. Turning to the one who had unfortunately drawn the short straw and was forced to wake up the slumbering lawyer, Momo couldn't help but yell out, "What!?"
Having fallen to the floor in surprise, Kei giggled loudly at the state of her friend before pointing to the clock that sat on the bedside table, "You're gunna be late, girl."
Momo's response was simple and clearly heard by the bulk of the surrounding apartments.
"FUCK!"
As she scrambled forth from bed, barely avoiding collapsing on a pair of legs that still felt like jelly, Momo swore she could hear that teasing bastard's voice in the back of her mind.
With a little derring-do, Oh, I'll fall in love with you
Thursday had gone by in a flash for Ken, a quiet day of work partnered with another long evening of ritualistic practice. He made every attempt to keep his thoughts centered on Friday's performance and not the terrifying experience that would proceed it, having entirely convinced himself that his innate awkwardness would make it a terrible time for Miss Ayase.
Having arrived far too early, Ken stood beneath the sign that indicated the entrance to Nessie's Echo and he felt entirely out of place. Trepidation heavy in his expression, he eyed the surrounding businesses as they opened for the day, wondering if any of them would allow him to sit inside to avoid the rather frigid breeze. The sound of his phone going off gave him a startle, the default 'PING' of a notification a rather foreign sound to him still, the device having spent most of its existence in a silenced state. Fishing it from his pocket and flipping it open, the screen lit up with a grainy photo and short message.
"Have fun, today! See you tonight in your new sexy get-up!"
Ken couldn't stop the warm chuckle that burst forth from him as he eyed the poorly rendered picture. As best as he could tell, the photo depicted Zuma and Jiji standing before a blackboard, both dressed up for work and flashing huge smiles with an arm over one another's shoulders. The words 'Go get Sexy, Takakura~!' had been harshly scrawled across the board behind them, standing out against a sea of what appeared to be biology notes and diagrams. Ken wondered if they had just kicked the door in on Koki as she was preparing for the day, erasing her beautifully organized notes just so they could send him a message of encouragement.
Part of him felt a pang of sadness at the idea of a group of friends having fun in a classroom, be they teachers or students. It was a part of school that he never got to experience. School was for learning and for being bullied. Enjoying time spent with friends had been woefully kept from him due to his own inabilities.
With a sigh, Ken quickly typed out a response to Zuma.
'Thank you for the kind words and photo. I will do my best to not disappoint.'
Gently closing the device, Ken slipped it back into his pocket as he gave his outfit a once over for the 30th time since his arrival just an hour before. In his dedication to learning the set list, he had let his laundry pile up over the past week and it had left him with a minimal wardrobe to select from, all of the remaining garments having some flavor of occult proudly stamped upon them. Seeing as Ken never really left the house besides for work or for food, he had built up an eclectic mix of clothes over the years.
Looking down, Ken eyed the curious scene of UAPs descending down upon the Great Wave off Kanagawa, the depiction of the disks in the same art style as the iconic artwork. This particular black hoodie had been purchased from an American fan site he had stumbled upon years ago and he had been unable to resist the interesting blend of classic Japanese art and his infatuation with the denizens of deep space. Thankfully, he had also been able to find an old pair of jeans and black converse to cover his lower extremities, though both seemed too thin to keep the biting cold wind entirely out.
He hoped that his choice of clothes would facilitate quick wardrobe changes as they made their way through the thrift store, the last thing he wanted was to waste any more of Miss Ayase's much more valuable time.
Ken brought his hands to his mouth before expelling a deep breath, doing his best to trap in the heat before bringing them to the sides of his head. Unwilling to pull the hood of his hoodie up and over, possibly making it so Miss Ayase wouldn't recognize who he was, Ken did his best to warm up the reddened skin of his ears. Though he greatly enjoyed the piercings that adorned the edges of them, it did make cold mornings like these rather uncomfortable, the ear cuff on his left side a particularly ravenous heat thief.
His hands doing their best to restore blood flow, Ken's ability to hear Miss Ayase's running approach was hindered. Coming up rather quickly behind him, it wasn't until she gave his shoulder a nudge that he noticed her presence. Almost jumping out of his skin, Ken yelped as he turned, the blush spreading quickly from his ears to his cheeks like wildfire. As she stood there, gently panting, Ken did his best to stutter out a greeting, "G-G-Good Morning, Miss Ayase! You're early!"
Doing her best to catch her breath, Momo gulped loudly as she shook her head. "Good mornin'… and the hell you mean I'm early? When I left Miko and Kei's, it was 8:55!"
Ken hastily dug into his pocket for his phone so he could click a button on the side, letting the small display on the front light up with the current time to prove his point as he faced it towards her: 08:26.
"No, you're 30 minutes early… perhaps whatever clock you used was broken?"
Momo's confusion was evident on her face as she seemed to ponder the time difference and once she had her answer, perplexity gave way to anger. "Those scheming little shitheads. They changed the time on my alarm clock so I'd get here earlier!"
Ken's attempt at hiding his amusement must have not been as subtle as he hoped, the smug look on his face triggering a rather threatening glare from Momo.
"Or was that your idea?!"
"I-I-I'd never do something so underhanded!"
Momo's glare finally dissolved away as she dusted herself off, her hands making sure to be delicate around the long faded punch icon that sat upon the front of her white sweater. "I'll take your word for it for now, Singer… Anyways, the shop should be open this early so lets go ahead and head that way. It's just a couple streets over."
Nodding softly with a hand rubbing at the back of his neck, Ken stepped aside and indicated with his other that he would follow her. The initial surprise of her arrival having finally worn off, he took a moment to once more remind himself that this was just a chore forced upon her by Kei and Miko. He needed to be cognizant of how much of her time he was greedily claiming for himself. As the two of them began to walk side by side, Ken slipped his hands into the front abdomen pocket of his hoodie, his head hung low as he failed to think of anything to talk about on their trek. What would he have to offer to this beauty at his side that wouldn't just reinforce the idea that she was demonstrably out of his realm of understanding?
"S-So is that an album cover or something?"
Her sudden question nearly blew him backwards with how forced it felt. Was talking to him really that painful for her? "Huh?"
"Your hoodie! Is it an album cover for a band you like?"
"Oh, uh… No, It's merch from a podcast that I listen to sometimes. I guess I just liked how they drew in the UAPs for this one…" Ken immediately regretted vocalizing his interest in the occult, it would just add fuel to her inevitable desire to never talk to him again.
"UAPs? They look like UFOs to me."
Ken felt himself grimace rather abruptly. She'd barely looked at him since they had starting walking so how did she even know what they actually looked like?! "Actually, UFO is a stigmatized phrase and has led to a large amount of mockery against an otherwise very serious area of study!"
For the first time since they set off, Momo turned to look at him, doubt heavy across her face, "Hard to study something when it doesn't exist, Singer."
Ken halted where he stood, his shoulders and arms tensing as he narrowed his eyes at her, "There is plenty of evidence towards the existence of aliens and other paranormal activity, Miss Ayase!"
Coming to a stop as well, Momo turned to address him, "See, now you're talking my language, space man. Aliens and little green men def' aren't real but I'm be more than happy to talk about spirits, if you'd like to."
It was Ken's turn to be petulant. "Spirits aren't real, don't be silly." Regret overtook him in an instant, bile rising in his throat as his mind raced to find a way to apologize. How dare he make fun of her interests when he had spent the better part of his life unable to share his own with others for fear of that exact same thing? Ken couldn't help but feel like an asshole and worse, a hypocrite. "I—… I'm sorry, Miss Ayase…I… didn't mean to.."
Without another word, he watched as Momo turned on her heels and stomped off, disappearing into the thrift shop just a moment later.
Ken knew he didn't deserve her time at all and as he dejectedly made his way towards the same shop, part of him wondered if he would have been just as much of an asshole if he had followed her on that day so many years ago.
Set adrift in the sea of second hand clothes, Momo struggled silently with the anger that simmered deep within her. It wasn't Okarun's fault that her roommates had tricked her and put her into a bad mood, nor was it his fault when she was the one to outright stomp on his interests first. Why did she have to be like this? Why did she have to bite everyone's head off at the slightest bit of provocation? She had been already struggling with the image of his head so perfectly placed between her thighs and in her embarrassment she had lashed out at the one person she actually wanted get to know better. Worst of all, why the did he have to be the one to apologize first with that infuriatingly gentle voice of his?!
For 20 minutes now, Okarun had just followed her through the store, his arm held out to accept the growing pile of clothes she had picked out for him to try on as if he was just a servant golem destined to carry her burdens forever without a word. Though he remained silent, Momo couldn't help but notice that since the moment he had followed her into the store, his lips had yet to stop moving, mouthing along the words to each song that played quietly over the intercom. The longer it went on, the less she could resist letting her gaze slip towards the gentle movement that his lip syncing induced in the piercing that sat at the edge of his mouth. How that little metal loop had felt cold against the hot skin of her inner thighs… how his lips had felt against her core through the ever so thin fabric of her—
Momo delivered a palm strike to her own forehead, the sound and suddenness of the impact enough to even breathe life back into her clay made companion.
"Miss Ayase!? Are you alright?"
"How… How do you do that?" She needed to distract herself, lest that effervescent blush return to her cheeks at full strength.
"D-Do what?"
"The music… you have been singing along to every single song that they've played since we got here… How do you know all of the words?" Momo watched as he brought his arms tight to his chest, pinning the wardrobes worth of garments to his chest almost as if it were armor.
"I… Uh… listen to a lot of music and um…"
Momo couldn't help but notice the gathering redness at his edges of his ears and how it contrasted so wonderfully against the shining silver of the adorning accessories.
"Singing always been a comfort thing for me but… I didn't want to bother you so I was just lip syncing…I can stop if you'd like me to."
In her desperate attempt to avoid a blush, she had just confessed that she had been watching his lips like some silly high schooler with a crush, and thus the heat returned to her cheeks with a roaring intensity regardless. "No… I wouldn't mind if you sang actually… your voice is really nice to listen to…"
Momo nearly melted at the sight of his wonderfully sweet smile.
"L-L-Let me know if you have any requests, Miss Ayase."
It took all of her strength not to yell out the names of songs she had heard him sing thousands of times before. Through great effort, Momo simply smiled and gave him a wink. "I'll do my best to think of a few."
Returning to their hunt for appropriately enticing clothing, Momo picked out a few more items as she listened to Okarun singing softly beside her. It didn't matter what the song was, all that mattered was that is was his voice lulling her along.
"I think that should be enough to get a good start." Sliding several lose strands of her hair behind her ear with one hand, she draped the last piece over his arm with the other and gave him a warm smile. "I guessed at your size so please let me know if anything doesn't fit."
"I trust your eye, Miss Ayase, but I'll let you know if anything feels off." With a sheepish smile, Okarun made his way towards the dressing rooms but stopped just short.
Confused for a moment, Momo took a few steps in his direction and tried to trace his line of sight to see what had caught his attention. Okarun stood before an entire wall covered in glittering ear rings and other assorted jewelry but Momo noticed his eyes weren't darting around taking all of it in. His focus was intense and locked in on one thing in particular but before she could get close, he broke away and closed the distance to the dressing rooms. Once he had disappeared through the doorway, Momo frantically scoured the wall for something that would potentially be so striking to him that it stopped him in his tracks. All kinds of styles and designs assaulted her eyes in return and it didn't take long for all of it to just blur together, a horrific canvas of assorted hoops, rings, and definitely fake gemstones.
With an irritated sigh, Momo abandoned her fruitless search and made her own way to the dressing rooms, plopping down into a seat next to the door that Okarun had entered. Pulling her phone out, she typed out a quick text to Kei and as the rather creative threat went swooping off into the digital void, Momo decided now was the best chance to make up for her earlier mistake.
"Hey, Singer?"
As the door shut behind him, Ken rather unceremoniously chucked the pile of clothes onto the small bench sitting inside the room. Around him, the walls seemed to be pulsing with the thunderous hammering of his heart and he fought to keep himself from unwinding at the seams. The tiniest beads of sweat gathered at his brow, threatening to slide down to his cheeks and evaporate the moment they touched the searing heat of his blush. He brought a hand to his chest, digits clawing into the fabric of his hoodie as trembling fingertips felt each erratic beat.
She liked his voice and said it was nice to listen to. She'd asked him to sing for her!
Gulping loudly, Ken shut his eyes as he leaned against the wall beside him for support, his legs quickly draining of their strength. He would learn any song she requested with out question, he'd learn a thousand languages if it meant he never ran out of melodies that he could recite for her. Struggling to reign in his quickened breathing, Ken slowly slid down the wall until the carpet rose up to meet him. Pulling his knees to his chest, he covered his face with his hands and nearly had to pull them away due to the fire radiating off his face.
How had she demolished his resolve with such a simple statement? Two days of reminding himself to steel his heart against feelings that would only result in pain and he'd forgotten in an instant. His defenses obliterated by that beautiful smile. Annihilated by those crimson eyes that had been the beacon of safety he sought in his most terrible dreams.
As his ability to breathe normally began to return to him, Ken ran his hands over his hair, ensuring that his sudden bout of panic hadn't resulted in the loosening of his tightly bound pony tail. After a few more shaky but slow breaths, he went to stand but her voice froze him solidly in place.
"Hey, Singer?"
Ken hoped she couldn't tell he was speaking at her from the floor, just inches in front of the door. "Y-Yes, Miss Ayase?"
"I… I'm sorry about earlier. It was shitty of me to talk about your interests like that…"
A gentle smile crept its way onto Ken's face. "It's alright… I did the same thing to you…"
"Yeah, and you've already apologized so now it's my turn, so don't tell me it's alright!"
Laughter erupted from Ken and on the other side of the door, he could hear the soft sound of someone shifting repeatedly against a leather couch. "Sorry, Miss Ayase."
"Thank you… Now… I have an important question to ask you."
"Hmm?"
"Do… do you think aliens wear underwear?"
Another fit of laughter was forcibly yanked from Ken's throat as tears built at the edges of his eyes. Toppling over, Ken continued to howl as the door next to him began to rumble, Momo's fists pummeling down upon it.
"It's a serious question! Don't make me come in there!"
Wiping the tears from his eyes, Ken slowly sat up and did his best to talk through several lingering chuckles, "My … My apologies, Miss Ayase. It is just never a thought that had occurred to me." A smile lingering upon his face, he stood up and dusted himself off as he eyed the door. The thought that she may actually kick the door down did occur to him, having witnessed her craving for bloodshed the previous Wednesday. "If you'd like, I could do a little research and report back."
The quivering door finally calmed and Ken could clearly hear the sound of Momo once more flopping down onto the leather couch. "See that you do."
"I'll do my best not to disappoint."
Feeling much more in control of himself than just mere moments ago, Ken made his way over to the pile of the clothes and began to organize them into the pairs that she had indicated. Once he had each ensemble staged and ready, he slipped the hoodie over his head, draping it over the top edge of the door so it would remain out of his way for the time being. Next came his shoes and belt, removed quietly as he did all he could to not let his mind wander. These were just clothes to make him look appealing to the patrons of the lounge, not garments that she may or may not want to see him in personally.
Moving as quickly as he could, Ken donned her first recommendation. An all black affair that she had snagged from one of the more formal looking racks of clothes. Black dress pants reminiscent to the ones he had worn to his audition, just much closer to the proper size and paired with a dulled black dress shirt that Ken buttoned fully, cuffs included. Stepping out from the dressing room, Ken turned to Momo and gave a half hearted smile.
"Wouldn't this be considered a little… drab?" Before he could object, she had a hand on his arm and was dragging him to a full height mirror that stood just beside the doorway.
"If you wear it like that, then duh it's gunna look boring. See?"
Both of them standing before the mirror, Ken suddenly felt it would be safer just dart back into the dressing room. "It's a dress shirt though, shouldn't I wear it properly?"
"You're going for sex appeal, Singer, not attending a funeral. Here."
Momo's hands were on him once more, her face far too close as she unbuttoned the top two buttons of the shirt. His eyes darted about erratically in an attempt to look anywhere but into those angelic wine tinted pools, for it would only take a millisecond for him to become ever so happily lost in them. Unfortunately though for Ken, it wasn't her eyes that would be his undoing this time.
Without warning, he felt the gentle touch of her fingertips against the sides of his neck, her intent to space out the collar to reveal more of the skin beneath but the result being him becoming molding clay to shape in whatever way she wished. A low and drawn out breath was all he could muster as she withdraw her hands from him, half lidded eyes fighting to stay open as the angel before him spoke.
"There is no out shining Aira when it comes to the overall 'Look at me, I'm sex incarnate' style so you're going to have to just sell it with subtle hints and confidence alone." Her hands were on his sleeves now, quickly unbuttoning his cuffs so she could fold each sleeve up to just below his elbows.
"That… that might be an issue, Miss Ayase…" Ken felt more akin to one of those posing dolls he used to see in art classes than a human being at that moment. Both equally rigid in his movements and hollow of mind. Each touch to manipulate him sending lightning along his skin and he once more felt the burn of his cheeks upon his face.
"You can do it, Singer. You've got the voice and the guitar skills so all we need now is to just make you look confident. Starting with standing up straight—"
Ken let out squeak as he felt her fingertips against his lower back and chest, her digits applying just enough pressure to get him to stand fully without his normal recoiled slouch. Staring at both of them in the mirror, Ken couldn't help but notice the sleight height advantage he had over her.
"—and not slouching over your guitar when you play. You're front and center with 'Little Miss Pink' so you'll need to exude cool guy energy!"
"I…I don't think that's really possible, Mis—" Ken found himself cut off rather forcefully as her palm crashed hard into his forehead.
"Enough of that. You're plenty cool."
"Says who?" Unable to hide the self doubt heavy in his voice, the words left his lips far colder than he intended.
All to quickly, her hands found their way to his form again, cupping his cheeks as her eyes narrowed upon his own, her gaze intense enough to prevent any thought of looking away. "Says me, Singer. You got an issue with that?"
Heat flooded his cheeks as he stared into those ethereal depths of hers, "N-No, Miss Ayase…" It took all of him not to lean into her touch like he desperately craved, to melt into the softness of her skin and allow himself to believe that she actually cared for him in that way.
Fortunately, his were not the only cheeks flush with warmth as Momo's face lit up just the same. "G-Good… Now… Let's see the next one, yeah?"
"Y-Yeah…" Unable to resist, Ken's vision darted down to the tender smile she gave him and for a moment, he pondered how the soft skin of her lips would feel against his own.
As if she could read his mind, she gently patted one of his cheeks before withdrawing her hands from him, one of them moving to idly twirl a length of her auburn silk strands. "Off you go…"
Turning quickly, Ken bolted into the dressing room and did his best not to slam the door behind him. Once more separated, his hands found their way to his face as he harshly rubbed his palms into the sunken, flushed flesh of his cheeks. Once more, he had to remind himself that she was purely performing a task in helping him find outfits and become a presentable singer for the band. She was doing this for the benefit of the lounge and his feelings were only getting in the way, irritating her to the point where she had to coddle him in an attempt to put an end to his ceaseless self deprecations.
With a deep sigh, Ken began to remove the first outfit, the tremble in his fingers hindering his efforts but eventually dying away as he gently folded the black shirt and pants combo before setting them upon the bench. Moving onto the next ensemble, it only took him a minute before he had it ready for her evaluation, but before emerging, he chose the path of a coward. Though he craved to feel her hands once more, he wouldn't drag her down to his level out of his own touch starved desperation. She deserved better than that.
"Should I fold the sleeves up on the white one as well, Miss Ayase?"
"Sleeves folded up, buttons all the way up to the neck since you've got the tie."
Nodding to himself, Ken folded the sleeves of the white dress shirt up to the same level before stepping back out from the room. This time without her assistance, Ken moved to step in front of the mirror and give himself a once over. She had him clad himself in a set of black dress pants that hugged him ever so gently all the way to his ankles and paired it with simplest white button down she could find. All of it topped off with a thin black tie that Ken had somehow remembered to do correctly, one of the few things his bastard of a father had taught him that Ken actually wanted to commit to memory. "I look like a waiter..."
Again, she was standing before him in a flash, her hands on the knot of his tie so she could adjust it slightly. "You're gunna have a guitar in your hands and you'll be on a stage. No one is going to ask you for a drink but they may ask if they can drink something off of you if you get em' riled up enough."
Ken could have potentially handled the brashness of her words if they weren't accompanied by a rather aggressive wink and eyebrow waggle. "M-Miss Ayase!" Though, in the end it seemed more than worth it as he got to listen to her wonderful laugh in response to his shock.
"You haven't seen how wild some of those folks can get once they've drank away the burdens of their work week, Singer! You spend all night singing to them all sweet and sexy, can't blame them for wanting to take a bite out of you… especially if you let your hair down—"
Far too quickly and with a harshness he didn't intend, Ken's hands grasped Momo's wrists tightly, holding them just out of reach of the band that restrained his pony tail at the back of his head, "Don't!"
Straining against his hold, Momo's shock quickly gave way to irritation. "You'd look more relaxed if you didn't have this so tight. Just let m—"
Ken turned his head to look directly at her, a lump developing in his throat as a tremor returned to the fingers wrapped about her sleeved wrists. "Just… don't. Please, Miss Ayase…"
Irritation dissolved away and left behind an emotion Ken couldn't quite place, the interior edges of Momo's brows lifting as she gave him a soft nod in understanding. Upon the release of her wrists, she quickly brought them down to her sides, digits fiddling with the seam of her hoodie as she seemingly struggled to recover from the suddenness of his denial.
Hunting desperately for a way to change the subject and lighten the mood, Ken ran a hand along the poor excuse of a beard that clung tightly to his chin. "S-Should I shave the beard and lose the piercings? Really push for the straight laced ol' fashion singer look?"
Thankfully, Momo eagerly leaned into the conversational detour. "I would definitely shave but I think the jewelry suits you… the glasses do too."
Chuckling lightly, Ken adjusted his glasses nervously as a hand rubbed at the back of his neck. "The hardware stays at the expert's request."
"Would you be willing to wear make-up?"
Taken aback by the question, Ken pondered on his response for a moment. "I wouldn't mind it, honestly, but I've never had to apply any so I doubt I'd make myself look any better. Why?"
"No reason in particular, but I know sometimes the lounge does theme nights where everyone gets all fancied up and shit. If you'd like, I could help you with that… Doesn't have to be special occasions either. Nothing wrong with doing a little to hide bags under the eyes or a little contour at the edges."
"You're already doing so much to help me, Miss Ayase. I don't want to impose any further."
"You're not imposing. I offered to help you, do you want it or not, Singer?"
Though he did best to look composed, there was no hiding his pout from her as looked down at his own feet. "I…I'd really like your help with that if the need arises…"
"Good, now onto the next outfit!"
Despite a few awkward moments, all of her own making, Momo found her morning to be far more pleasant than she had originally envisioned. Though he seemed to enjoy topics of the extraterrestrial variety, Okarun was rather down to Earth and she couldn't help but find his sheepish demeaner a bit endearing. Her mystery singer was easy to rile up, much like herself, but the way he expressed it couldn't be father from her own methods. More than a few times as she was surveying his wardrobe in the mirror, she had gotten a rise out of him purely just to hear him babble on. Potential sightings of UAPs across the world, proof of the existence of the Loch Ness Monster currently being reviewed by researchers in Scotland, how Japanese lore was rich with stories of cyrptids. The topic didn't matter. It was the passion in his voice that drove her to inquire more as she pondered whether or not he'd look too dorky in a sequin sewn suit.
Eventually, the original pile of clothes began to dwindle, much to Momo's disappoint. Unwilling to let this rather eye opening cryptid informational session end, she began to just grab whatever she could from the racks and shelves each time Okarun disappeared back into the dressing room. Minutes turned to hours as the two of them seemed to trial every item in the store that was remotely close to his size. Though he seemed trepidations at first, eyeing the gaudy flames expertly sewn into a shirt she had hastily snagged when he mentioned he was out of things to try on, even Okarun couldn't deny he was having fun. Each time she found something outrageous, he would give her the warmest of smiles or let forth a laugh that Momo couldn't seem to get enough of. He had even taken a liking to one of the sillier sets of sweatpants she had tossed at him in her fervor to keep her personal Ken doll busy in the dressing room.
As he strutted back and forth before the mirror with a large, wide eyed frog stamped boldly upon the front of his left leg, Momo couldn't even attempt to contain her delight. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she cackled, wholly unable to keep her voice down as her phone sat on the couch next to her and played a rather old music video with an animated frog singing about love and strumming the guitar. Okarun had told her to look it up as he had been changing and as he whisper sung the words at her before the mirror, she couldn't help but to borderline convulse with laughter. Neither of them could blame the poor worker who eventually had to ever so politely ask them to keep it down.
In the quiet moment afterwards, both of them sporting puffed cheeks as they did all the could to not burst out laughing once more, Momo's stomach betrayed her. A roaring grumble erupted forth from beneath the faded punch hoodie and in a flash, her cheeks were glowing brightly with embarrassment.
"Have you eaten yet, Miss Ayase?"
Fingers pulling ever so gently at a strand of hair, Momo gave him a shrug, "Is that an invitation to lunch, Singer?"
"I-I-It would only be appropriate to buy you lunch after you've helped me so much this morning."
With a smile growing quickly upon her expression, Momo reveled in the redness of his cheeks before responding. "Well, hop on back into that room and let's get going."
Okarun responded by sticking his tongue out at her, a silent protest against her terrible choice of words and she returned the gesture in kind. A snicker shared between them, Okarun disappeared back into the dressing room for the final time. Minutes later he emerged, a tall stack of clothes folded neatly in his arms. Behind him, she could see a tower of rejected garments resting upon the beach, each folded cleanly and organized by style so as to make reshelving as easy as possible. She couldn't help but smile at the simple act.
"Ready when you are, Miss Ayase."
Giving Okarun a nod, Momo walked him to the front counter and as the two quietly waited for all of the items to be scanned, she watched as he went to grab his wallet.
"Not today, these are a gift from Seiko and the Echo." Though she didn't enjoy every part of what she had learned in law school, becoming better at bluffing was something she was particularly proud of. She knew Okarun would fight her tooth and nail if she tried to personally pay so she needed an excuse, and she was certain no one would ever question the motives of her grandmother if they knew what was good for them.
Thankfully, it appeared Okarun knew what was good for him. His hands falling back to his sides, Okarun just gave her a soft smile, "I-I'll make sure to thank her later tonight."
"No need, seeing you up on stage and drawing in a crowd is thanks enough for her."
A hint of doubt lingered in his gaze as she tapped her card to the scanner but he remained silent for time being. It wasn't until they were stepping through the doors of the shop, his hands full of bags, that Okarun spoke once more, "Shit, I forgot my phone in the dressing room. I'll be right back!" Before she could protest, he was darting away, the loud ruffle of overstuffed plastic bags following quickly behind him.
With a shrug, Momo stepped out into the much warmer late morning air and took a second to stretch out her arms high above her head. Looking up and down the street, she wondered which place they should hit up for a quick meal.
Surprisingly, it took Okarun more than several minutes to finally emerge from the store, a tender smile on his face as he strode up next to her, the heavy bags hanging from each arm.
"What would you like for lunch, Miss Ayase?"
"Oh I'm open to pretty much anything, do you have any preferences?" Gently, she prodded him, eager to learn more about the man himself.
"Not particularly, I normally just eat meals of convenience…" Weighted down by the bags, Okarun couldn't do much to avoid the repeated press of her finger into the side of his ribs, each one causing him to squeak ever so gently.
"Ugh… Fine, let's just start walking and see what peeks our interest."
"Sounds good, Miss Ayase."
As they began their slow walk back towards the lounge, Momo couldn't help but try to rile him once more. "Why do you have to address me so formally? It makes me feel like I'm at work when you call me that."
Pink dusted his cheeks as he stumbled over his words for a moment, "I-It is the proper way to address a woman of whom I've only just met!"
A smug grin crawling across her face, Momo began to prod him again as she knew he couldn't escape. "You just spent the whole morning modeling the entire store for me, I'd say you've earned the right to call me Momo, Singer."
Mouth agape, Okarun fought to get the words out through the chirps she pulled from him with each poke, "It wouldn't be proper of me! And besides, you won't even say my name, either!"
Feigning shock, Momo began to poke at him even harder in retribution, "Singer is a nickname I've given you, how dare you deny it!"
Okarun did his best to dodge what jabs he could but she was far too quick for him in his current overburdened condition. "Ah! Miss Ayase, that is just a lazy nickname cause you don't want to call me K—" A harsh poke to his kidney cut him off as he yipped in surprise.
"Momo! Call me Momo, Singer!"
"I'll call you that, Miss Ayase, if you address me properly as K—" Another poke delivered and another squeak to silence the name she refused to speak.
"Momo!"
Though she had started this spat, it was suddenly getting away from her. She could give no reason as to why she couldn't call him by his proper name, it would be her undoing. Why did the actor she idolized have to share the same name with the mysterious internet voice that she had clung to when the stress of the world threatened to pulverize her?
Shouting back and forth in the street as they walked, she would stop him at each attempt he made to say his name before shouting her own back at him. Their blood beginning to boil as they rounded the last corner before the lounge, nary an eating establishment scouted, Okarun finally broke the sequence.
"Miss Ayase, Why must you be so difficult!?"
It became immediately apparent that he regretted shouting, regret flooding his expression and his mouth opening to issue an apology. Before he could utter another word though, Momo shouted back the first thing that came to mind, rather unfortunately for her.
"You're the one being difficult, Okarun!"
In that moment, the world stopped spinning. Both of them watched as anger dissolved away from the other's face, leaving behind naught by horror and shock. Wide eyed and with a lump thoroughly stuck in his throat, Okarun's mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for breath but no sound could escape.
Suddenly, Momo felt far too exposed, having just yelled a long since dead username back at its owner in frustration. She needed an escape and one could be found conveniently close by. Giving him no time to protest or really speak at all, Momo shoved Okarun into the ramen shop they had stopped in front of during the climax of the shouting match. Disappearing inside, she continued to push him until both collapsed at a table far in the back of the establishment.
It was only until then that she could finally force herself to speak once again.
"I-I-I can explain…"
