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Mio's packing up her bass when Iori approaches her for the first time after their solo live. Iori doesn't say anything at first. She just stands there at the doorway underneath the shoddy lighting, watching her. Judging her. The silence is what scares Mio the most. Iori has always been blunt, and that forthrightness of hers was always her defining trait. She's never seen Iori beat around the bush, less hesitate with her words.
Clicking the latches on the case shut, she gets up from the floor, swinging it over her shoulder to carry it on her back. It's only then when everything snaps back to life. Mio takes a few steps towards Iori to close the distance between them. "Iori-chan? Did you... have something to do with me?"
"...We still need to talk," Iori says, reaching a hand out—then stopping halfway. "About everything."
Mio isn't surprised at all. She almost ruined everything, after all. It might even be too late to fix her mistakes. Her guts twist themself into knots as she forces her head to give a nod of confirmation. "I'm sorry."
"Mio—" Iori says, but doesn't manage to follow up with any other words, frowning. She pivots on her right foot and pushes open the door, letting the setting sun illuminate the backroom in pale orange. "My place," she says, with no room for argument in her voice. "Tonight at eight. Bring everything you think you'll need."
Mio mutters a small "okay," and that's supposed to be the end of their stilted conversation, but Iori doesn't leave quite yet. She's still looking in Mio's general direction, but it's as if she wasn't looking at her, but instead peering straight through her. Iori blinks, eyes lost in the heat haze. "...You haven't changed at all."
"...Iori-chan?"
"Nothing," Iori says. "Just—just be there."
The door slams shut, trapping what's left of day's end inside with the dim lighting overhead. Mio can't piece together Iori's cryptic clues. That's worrisome, because, again—Iori has always been a straightforward person. She doesn't know what Iori might be thinking, but there's one thing that's certain; the only way to get answers is to follow is to do as she says.
Mio arrives in front of Iori's apartment a quarter before eight. She wasn't sure what Iori meant with her command, so she brought a little of everything. Her backpack sits snugly on her back, her bass regulated to being carried by hand. Double checking she has everything, Mio knocks.
A few seconds pass, and then another. Mio has to adjust her grip on her bass to prevent it from falling, before knocking again. What if Iori didn't want her here? Was this a test? Or was a way of letting her down, to tell her I don't want you in STANDOUT anymore? Or—
Pattering footsteps grow louder and louder as the door is pulled open at impressive speed. Iori's dressed more casually than before—her wrinkled white STANDOUT hoodie that contrasts her flushing cheeks.
"You're early," Iori mumbles, catching her breath. "Sorry, I didn't hear you knocking. Come in."
Taking a brief moment to fit her bass through the door, Mio takes the opportunity to make some small talk—to try and make things more amicable before she has to face the music. "Is your roommate home? I wouldn't want to disturb them."
Iori doesn't turn around as she walks towards her room with an anxious pace. "No, they're moving things to their new place right now. They're moving out soon."
After kicking off her shoes, Mio follows Iori, though she struggles to catch up—no thanks to her luggage. "Oh, I—I see. Don't you still need to find someone to help pay rent?"
"Yeah," Iori says, holding open the door as Mio deals with narrow doorways for the second instance in much too short a time. Once she's in, Iori closes the door behind them, locking it. When she catches Mio looking at her with a curious eye, she responds with an unassuming "Just in case."
"So, um, what do you want to talk about?" Mio says, setting her bass and backpack down against the wall. Iori doesn't answer, not yet, choosing to sit on her bed, one leg over the other, before looking at Mio again.
"Isn't it obvious? It's about STANDOUT," Iori says. "It's about you."
Iori sighs, leaning forward. "Let me make this as clear as possible. STANDOUT doesn't need you. Even if Hinomori-san declined my offer, there's no shortage of talented bassists available to scout. With all the problems you caused with your cowardice, it's a surprise I'm bothering to tell you this. Right now, you're a liability. How will I know you won't go back on your own words and do the same thing again?"
Mio can't maintain eye contact as Iori's harsh words finally come out, cutting deep gashes against her skin. The worst part? Iori isn't wrong—no, Iori is completely correct with her observations. Even now, Mio can't stop her body from trembling in trepidation when the thoughts of going pro come to mind. She wants to run. She wants to run away and hide in the safety of her room, even if it means she needs to crawl over burning sand with legs broken, irreparable. Holding so much responsibility is nothing short of terrifying. It's unfathomable. Besides, she's not needed, anyway. Iori's already said replacements are a dime a dozen. Mio doesn't need to be here.
But—she can't just leave. Not when she's already gone this far. Even if she isn't needed, she still has to try. She doesn't need Iori to accept her. She just needs Iori to understand her feelings. Even if—
"I know I'm not needed," Mio can't look directly at Iori, not yet. It hurts just to catch a glimpse of her sitting there, watching, watching, watching. It frustrates Mio that she can't even give the proper acknowledgement to someone she's been around for so long. Her nails dig into her palm as she clenches her hands into fists. "I know you don't trust me. I know I betrayed you. I'm—I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry, Iori-chan."
Her vision blurs up as tears start to drip down her cheeks uncontrollably. A hand searches for something solid to grab ahold of—it ends up being the bottom of her blouse, stretching it down as she tries to stop her snivels. "Please give me another chance. I'm still afraid, but... I still want to try again. Just one more time."
Wiping away her tears, Mio works up the courage to glance a bit longer at Iori. Iori is still sitting on the bed, now crossing her arms as well. Their eyes meet, and Iori's breath hitches. Now she's fidgeting, thighs squeezing together tightly. "Mio," Iori says, eyes darting away. "I don't know about this."
"Please," Mio begs. She works her unsteady feet towards Iori—one step, two steps, then three—and grabs onto one of Iori's arms with both her hands. Iori flinches at the touch, gasping in what might be surprise. Mio's legs give out her at that moment, causing her to fall to the floor inelegantly. She pulls Iori's arm closer to her, hugging it like a lifeline. That may not be an exaggeration, anymore.
Mio stays there, hiccupping while trying to get her sobs under control, until she doesn't know whether it's been seconds or minutes or longer than that. And then Iori's hand tilts Mio's head up until they make eye contact for the first time they've set foot in Iori's room.
"Get up, Mio," she says. "I—I've... reconsidered."
Mio obeys. She pulls herself up with Iori's help, an anxious hope lighting up her heart. It takes her a second to stabilize herself, so she holds onto Iori's hand for a touch longer. For a brief moment, Iori's breath stops. "R—Really?"
"It—It won't be so simple, obviously," it's now Iori's turn to look up at Mio. Her face is red. "You're aware how we recruited the others, right?"
"Yeah... after scouting them, we gave them an audition to see if they were a good fit."
"It wasn't always like that," Iori breathes deeply, something catching in her throat. "You never had an audition, since we started the band together. But you're not a member anymore."
"So... you want me to audition?" It should be fine. She's been practicing, but she's not worried about the technical aspect. Music isn't just about playing the right notes—it's also about being able to play with conviction, and she isn't sure if Iori will accept that resolve of hers.
Mio takes a deep breath. Okay. She can do this. Subconsciously, she moves closer until there's nary a hand's length between the both of their faces. "Alright. I'll do my best. Please listen to my feelings," and Mio squeezes Iori's hand tightly, and Iori... groans?
Wait, what?
"Iori-chan, a—are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?" Panic seizes Mio's throat as she tries to make heads or tails of what happened. Iori's quivering; her thighs are kneading into each other harder.
"I'm fine. Perfectly fine. You don't—" Iori quietly gasps, "—need to worry about me."
"I can't just do that! You're my gi—you're my best friend," Mio swallows. "Look, you're tensing up. Please, just let me take a look."
"D—Don't," Iori tries to push Mio away, but her efforts are fruitless. It takes a few tries, but Mio eventually spreads Iori's legs apart, pulls the hoodie up, and...
Oh. Mio has to do a double take, but there's no mistaking it. Iori's panties are wet, and by the looks of it, they've been wet for a while.
Things start to add up, one by one: the delay at the door, Iori not hearing her the first time she knocked, how she needed to catch her breath for such a short distance, the wrinkled hoodie—like she had just dressed herself—the fidgeting, why she was sitting with one leg over the other... but there's no better way than to directly ask Iori herself.
"Iori-chan," Mio starts, not knowing how to approach the topic. "Were you...?"
Iori freezes, but she slowly nods. Mio doesn't know how to feel about this, at first. She's surprised, yes, but shocked? Not really. This—whatever this situation has been for the past few weeks has been rough for both of them, and Mio's familiar enough with Iori to know her preferred method of stress relief. A stranger might be disgusted, but even with all that's happened with them, Mio couldn't ever be considered one. Rather than all the ugly emotions that a normal person should be feeling, Mio's core instead throbs, full of want. Iori notices.
Iori makes a decision, standing up and moving until she's at the cusp of where both their personal spaces meet. "...Why don't we change the audition up? I'll let you back in the band if you're able to... satisfy me."
This... wasn't what Mio expected, but it's not the worst change of events. It's fine. This might be even better. "O—Okay, but I might be rusty."
"That's no excuse," Iori says, hooking an arm around Mio's neck. "I'm sure you're aware of the consequences of not being… up to par."
Without delay, Iori pushes herself up against Mio, straddling against Mio's thigh. "Well? I'm waiting. You don't need me to count you in, hm?"
"R—Right," After preparing herself, Mio reaches a hand down to rub Iori's slit lying just behind the wet spot of Iori's panties.
"Fuck," Iori gasps, the sudden touch causing her knees to weaken, forcing her to hold onto Mio to stay upright. "Looks like you haven't been slacking off on practice."
They stay like that for a minute as Iori finds her footing, but Mio's fingers aren't making it easy. Once Iori does manage to steady herself, her hand reaches down to meet with Mio's.
"C—Come on, is that all? You won't be able to please the audience just by playing the intro," Iori says, in spite of her clear arousal. "Don't you want to go deeper?"
Iori guides Mio's hand to her waistband, pulling them down until they fall to the floor. "I'm sure you know what part comes next. Go o—shit!"
Mio doesn't wait for Iori to finish her sentence before sliding two fingers inside, like normal. Her thumb rubs Iori's mon pubis, noticing the texture. "You shaved?" Mio asks. "You don't like to... and the last time we had—"
"First thing I did when I came back," Iori cuts her off, holding back a moan as Mio's fingers plunge in deeper. "You prefer it this way, don't you?"
Iori has always been considerate, even to a coward like her, which is why Mio needs to do her utmost best. She brings Iori into a kiss, reacquainting herself with the taste of Iori's lips. It's a taste that she hasn't experienced for so long. She missed this, and judging by Iori's reaction, she did too. Mio dives deeper as she slips her tongue into Iori's mouth. Her free arm slides under Iori's hoodie and around her waist—shivering at the touch—while the other continues to pump in and out.
Iori breaks the kiss to catch her breath, rocking her hips on Mio's fingers relentlessly. Mio pulls her closer until she's within reach to nibble at her earlobe. Iori trembles at the new sensation, but doesn't resist. "So, how am I doing?" Mio whispers, causing the warm air from her voice to brush against Iori's ear.
"...Passable," Iori shudders, and that's clearly not enough, so Mio curls her fingers to hit places where she knows Iori is sensitive. It works—Iori tenses as another sound of involuntary pleasure escapes her throat. "S—Sorry, I meant that you're doing great."
"Am I really? I said I wasn't confident with my technique. Maybe you're just sensitive right now," Mio uses her thumb to gently press against Iori's clit, but that's more than enough to draw another reaction. "...How long have you been touching yourself today, Iori-chan?"
"I don't need to tell you that," Iori deflects, but no matter. All Mio needs to do is to brush a finger past her clit a few times, and, "Wait, s—stop, stop—too much, too much—"
Mio graciously lets Iori catch her breath, pulling her fingers out to let her rest. "After I shaved," Iori confesses, still shaking from the stimulation. "I edged for about half an hour before you arrived. I couldn't continue when you were in my room, but I was still pent up, so..."
"I'm glad you're being honest with me now," Mio says. "But even you must have self-control, right? Do you know how disrespectful it was for you to discreetly play with yourself while I was pleading with you to hear me out? And what sort of band leader tells potential members to get her off for a chance to join? I never realized you were such a pervert, Iori-chan."
"P—Pervert? I'm—I'm not a pervert," Iori chokes out, lying through her teeth. Mio never liked liars, and Iori is no exception. Mio pinches Iori's clit, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure to stir up another groan. Iori's hips buck against her as Mio's fingers continue to play with her.
"Are you sure? Don't lie to me. It's been... how many weeks since our last time together?"
"Okay, o—okay, I'm a pervert," Iori admits, melting into Mio's touch. "It's been, fuck, just like that, three weeks, almost a month. I've been so, so horny; my fingers are never enough. It's not the same without you."
"If it makes you feel any better, I don't mind if you're a pervert," Mio hums. "I like you that way, too. I really, really like you when you're like this."
Iori's breath hitches as Mio reinserts her fingers. It wasn't just Iori—Mio missed this, too. There had been a time where she'd thought she'd never would have been able to fuck Iori again, but that's not the case anymore. She wants to see Iori—holding back groans all the while pretending that she's in charge—like this forever. The sight makes her so wet.
"I'm close," Iori swallows, burying her face into Mio's blouse. Looks like her edging has caught up to her. "Mio, I'm so close. Please, let me—let me come. Please."
Mio loves how pathetic Iori gets when she's nearing her climax. How all the walls she puts up and the perfect frontwoman persona shatters when she touches her in just the right spots. How she tries to keep up that facade, even when fighting it is a lost cause, until she's drunk on pleasure—unable to think of anything else but her best friend and her impending orgasm. Mio will never stop finding that hot.
Mio increases her pace, speeding up as her fingers fuck Iori faster. Her other hand crawls up Iori's waist all the way until she can cup her hand around Iori's chest. She rubs the nipple between her index finger and thumb, and that causes Iori's knees to buckle, barely holding on in more ways than one.
"God, Mio, I'm almost there," Iori moans, not bothering with her maintaining her dignity any longer. "Fuck! Mio, don't stop. Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop, I'm—I'm going to—"
And then Mio stops.
"Mio," Iori pants, stuck in pre-orgasm anticipation, "Mio, w—what? Why'd you stop?"
"How'd I do?" Mio smiles, removing her fingers and gently releasing Iori from her hold. "Was it enough to pass the audition?"
"Huh? Y—Yes, I mean, no," Iori stutters, still in disbelief of her denied orgasm. "Mio, you didn't—I didn't get to finish."
"Oh... I guess that means I failed?" Mio sighs as depressingly as she can, eyes downcast. "I'm sorry for wasting your time, Iori-chan. I'll stay out of your business from now on. Good luck with STANDOUT."
Mio turns to leave, crouching down to pick up her bags, but Iori grabs her wrist to stop her.
"Mio, please. Please don't go. I—your audition isn't over, so you can stay," Iori says, desperation visible in all parts of her body language. "There's still one more part."
That catches Mio's attention. "One more?"
Iori moves back to take a seat on her bed, peeling her hoodie off in reckless abandon. Even though Mio's seen Iori naked far too many times to count before, she's never once not stared. Who could blame her?
"Under the bed," Iori says. "There's a box under the bed."
Following Iori's instructions, Mio locates the box. Opening it, she finds a bottle of lube and—
"When did you buy this?" Mio blinks, taking out the strap-on. It's a new model. Their old one was smaller.
"A few weeks ago. I saw it, and bought it online. I wasn't thinking; it was spur-of-the-moment."
"But it's..." Mio compares the length with her hand. "It's big. Are you sure it'll fit?"
Iori nods, impatient. "It will. I've been... practicing with it, but it's not the same without another person. It'll be fine, I promise, so please."
When Iori looks at her that way, pent up and waiting, Mio can't find it in herself to deny her, not like she was ever planning on leaving in the first place. Besides, she is pretty curious too, both about the toy and Iori's claims. "Give me a second, I'll need to undress."
As Mio shrugs her jacket off, she notices Iori watching her intently—giving her an idea. "Do you mind doing me a small favour? Could you turn around?"
"But—"
"That's not a request, Iori-chan. I never said I had to go along with your plans, did I?"
Reluctantly, Iori agrees. With that out of the way, Mio takes her sweet time to strip. Her blouse comes first, pulled over the head and tossed over a chair. "That was my top, Iori-chan. It's been so hot out recently, so thank goodness I can finally take it off."
Iori's head almost turns back to catch a glimpse, but she holds the temptation back. "Mio. Can you... can you hurry up? I can't take this any longer."
Mio doesn't listen. "It's not like you to rush. Weren't you always the one telling us to keep a steady tempo?"
As Mio slides her skirt off, spending as much time brushing it against her legs, Iori has to grip her sheets to stop herself from indulging into her base urges. "I don't mind if you touch yourself… but if you reach your climax all by yourself, then there won't be a reason for me to stay."
She doesn't bother waiting for what Iori does. Instead, she walks until she's right behind Iori to peel her panties off. "Oh dear, my panties are soaking wet. You really worked me up, Iori-chan."
Mio sticks a finger inside, coating it with her juices before cradling Iori's head from behind with her arms and tapping her wet finger on Iori's lips. "Can you see how turned on I am? Can you taste how much I want you? Are you going to take responsibility for your actions?"
Iori shudders as Mio's scent—Mio's lust—permeates the surrounding air. "Of... Of course. Anything for you."
"That's so sweet of you to say," Mio murmurs, giving Iori’s shoulder a quick peck. Iori almost squeaks. "Then wait just a little longer, alright? For me?"
Taking pity on Iori's restlessness, Mio adjusts the harness—getting used to the heavier weight of the toy. The difference is hardly a problem, but looking down at it from this perspective... it's bigger. It's longer. Girthier, too. Iori was using this on a regular basis? It makes Mio a little regretful that she missed out on all that, but she doesn't need to worry about it anymore. Now she'll have front row seats to Iori's performance, all to herself.
Once she's finished lubricating the toy, she sets the bottle back into the box. "I'm done," Mio taps Iori's shoulder just to make sure she hears. "Are you ready to get started?"
Iori exhales shakily, nodding her head. Repositioning herself until she's lying face up on her pillow, Iori finally lifts her head to peek at Mio. "Your bra," Iori mumbles. "You're still wearing it."
"Oh, that's right," Mio acknowledges as she positions herself, kneeling between Iori's legs. "I'm sure it'll be fine. I don't think you'll be able to see it with the way you are right now... and the way you'll be in just a moment."
She rests the toy on Iori's abdomen, comparing where it reaches to their previous toy. Ooh, so that's what Iori must've felt. She can feel her heart pounding in her chest uncontrollably. She's getting excited.
Moving back, she rubs the tip between Iori's folds, smearing lube across her entrance. "Are you sure about this?" Mio asks, one last time. "We don't have to do th—"
"I'm certain," Iori swallows, staring directly into Mio's eyes. "One hundred percent certain."
"That's good," Teasingly slow, Mio slides the tip inside—and has to readjust, underestimating the lack of resistance.
Iori breathes sharply, graced with a new sensation. Her mouth hangs open as she gets accustomed to the toy before slamming shut after realizing what she's doing. "S—See? Nothing to it... Mio? Why aren't you moving?"
"I was just thinking about what you said before."
"What? W—Why are you bringing that up now?"
Pressing a hand against Iori's core, Mio leans forwards a bit more, sliding the toy in deeper. "Just wondering, but you said that STANDOUT didn't need me. But that was STANDOUT. I want to know what you think, Iori-chan. Do you need me?"
"I don't—" Iori answers in reflex, and Mio frowns, beginning to pull the strap out. "No. No, I'm sorry. I didn't—I didn't mean to say that."
"Then give me your answer. And you'd better not lie, or else I think we're done here," Mio arches forwards until she's right above Iori's chest; the toy being on the verge of ruining Iori. "Tell me, will you? Tell me how much you want me here. Tell me how much you need me."
"...I—I need you. I need you, Mio. I can't... I can't go on without you. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for everything, but I need you inside me right now. I can't hold on any longer, so please, please—please just give me it—give me everything," Iori begs, aching, hungering, craving for her. And when she says it in that desperate tone, how could Mio ever possibly refuse her?
"That's all I needed to know, Iori-chan," Mio smiles, and slides the rest of the toy inside.
Iori instinctively arches her back as the strap fills her up, pressing her chest closer to Mio's. As practiced as she may be, there isn't exactly a way to prepare such a large toy suddenly being inside all at once. Oh, Iori breathes, unable to find a more eloquent word to express herself. Her hands clutch at the sheets to try and drag her back down to reality, but Mio won't let her.
Mio pulls her hips back before sinking them down again in one smooth gesture, and Iori grits her teeth to encage her sounds of pleasure inside. Mio doesn't like that one bit. Her hand finds its way up to Iori's mouth, prying it open to stick her ring finger inside. The rest of her hand cups around Iori's jaw, resting on the upper throat. "You're our vocalist, you know? Let me hear those charming melodies of yours, Iori-chan."
"Mio," Iori whimpers, "Mio, god, Mio. I missed this, I missed—I missed you."
Mio giggles. "What a coincidence. I did too. Guess we'll have to make up for lost time, hm?"
"Y—Yeah," Iori says. "So please just fuck me."
"Anything for my frontwoman," Mio laughs before going down on Iori again.
She thrusts in a steady rhythm as Iori's groans resonate through her vocal cords with a practiced ease, and Mio's able to feel the vibrations with her hand on Iori's throat as another sign of her bliss. Even with the time it took to set up and prepare, it's like Iori was turned on all this time—right, Mio did striptease her. That's not a problem. It just makes satisfying her easier.
Iori's arms wrap around her, needing something to hold onto in order to stay grounded. Mio can feel the sting of trimmed nails digging into her back, but she doesn't mind; that just means she's doing a good job at pleasing Iori. In return, Mio does the same—hooking her arms around Iori in an embrace to keep her upper body still.
When Iori utters a wholly pathetic noise that should've never come from STANDOUT'S leader, Mio knows that she's getting close again. Iori's legs are twitching, ankles bumping with Mio's as her breathing grows strangled, erratic. She doesn't go down easy, though. Her nails scratch the back of Mio's shoulders, carving white scars that stay white only due to her clipped nails, but that doesn't slow down Mio at all—she's gotten used to it.
"Almost," Iori gasps, biting her lip—rather, biting down on Mio's finger in the process. "M—Mio, I'm almost there—so close, so cl—"
Iori jolts, her words interrupted as Mio sinks the toy deep inside again, but Mio knows. She's seen this scene play out an uncountable amount of times before. "Please let me come this time," Iori pleads, words struggling to get out of her throat. "Promise me."
"I'll keep your promise if you keep yours," Mio whispers, turning Iori's head so that their gazes can meet. "You still remember, don't you? Pinkie swear."
"Pinkie swear," Iori repeats, carving a mark on Mio's back with her pinkie. "I'll do anything, so Mio, please."
That's all Mio ever needed to hear. "Of course. Just hold on for me, okay?"
Mio pulls her finger out of Iori's mouth, then reaches downwards to rub Iori's clit. Combined with the strap pounding her at the same time, Iori breaks into the loudest groan Mio's ever heard her—she isn’t even this loud even when singing. It only encourages Mio to rub faster and faster, until Iori's at her brink, clutching onto Mio like her life depended on it.
"Mio—Mio!" Iori cries, climax imminent. "Thank you, thank you so much for this, for—fuck, fuck, fuck—I want you, so don't stop, don't stop, please don't stop this time, I need you, I need you, I need you I need you I need—"
What's left of Iori's words fades into unintelligible moans as she's finally able to reach a satisfying orgasm in what feels like forever. Her legs spasm, but still remain latched around Mio's, locking them in place alongside her arms. Iori shakes, breathing heavily as shockwaves trail through her body in ecstasy, heartbeats syncing with Mio's as the post-orgasmic bliss lingers in her veins, similar to the adrenaline rush not wanting to fade just yet after a concert.
Once Iori's limbs grow limp, Mio's able to push herself off Iori's quivering body to remove the strap. It takes a second to get out of the harness, but all that's left after is to deposit it back in the box and join Iori on her bed, nudging her over so there's space for the two of them. Pulling the blanket over their bodies (and avoiding all the wet spots to the best she can) Mio kisses Iori on her cheek, wiping away the sweat on her forehead.
"Mio," Iori rolls over to face her, wearing a weary smile, "that was... amazing. I said this already, but... thank you. Thank you so much."
Iori pulls her arm over her in a much gentler hug. Mio takes the opportunity to snuggle even closer. "There's no need to thank me. We're best friends. And we're girlfriends too, right?"
Iori's smile wavers, guilt seeping into it. "Yeah, but I still—"
"No 'buts,'" Mio huffs. "We promised, didn't we? You've always kept your promises."
"I guess," Iori closes her eyes, then sighs. "It doesn't feel right that you've done so much, and I, well..."
"Then, if you insist... could I ask a question?"
"S—Sure, what is it?"
Mio can't resist the urge to kiss Iori again, so she doesn't resist—this time, it's on the lips. "Did I pass the audition?"
Iori blinks, processing the question, but when she does, she breaks into the sweetest-sounding laugh Mio's ever had the chance to hear. It's a sound that's stayed constant throughout all their years of friendship, and then years of immature teenage love—and hopefully, it'll continue to linger from now and forever to come in their adult lives. I hope this sentiment resonates with you, Mio thinks. Once and for all.
Iori grins, lips lifting so high, eyes twinkling with mirth and so much love. Mio finds that her smile might just be the same, and, honestly? She's forgotten why she ever doubted joining Iori in their dreams together.
"With flying colours," Iori laughs. "With flying colours."