Chapter Text
It’s not like Nene didn’t know the pain of heartbreak. Unfortunately, she was well acquainted with the sting of rejection. The “it’s not you, it’s me” talks. The “I’m just not looking for a relationship right now” excuses. Even a couple “you’re just not my type” quips.
The most recent, though, had smarted a bit more than usual. It was a bit too long to sum up in a few words, with accusations of Nene’s desperation for romance, her annoying clinginess, and the ever creative daikon leg insult. But she would never let him know that. Show him the power he had over her emotions? Please. By refusing to cry during the brutal dumping, Nene was doing a favor for the next poor girl who would be foolishly wooed by his charms and good looks. Any bit of ego she could tear from him was another teardrop saved from being shed during his next breakup.
Of course, nobody said anything about when she made it back to her apartment that evening.
Nene had bawled and wept for so long, spilled so many tears, that she swore she could still feel the damp patches set in the arm of her couch two days later. Or maybe that was the fresh puddle of tears from earlier in the afternoon. Either way, she would definitely be adding to the wet splotch over the course of the next week or so. Well acquainted didn’t necessarily mean immune, after all.
That’s why Aoi acted as her own personal booster shot against this plague of heartsickness.
Best friends since high school, Aoi could read Nene like one of her fashion magazines. Sometimes it was scary how easily she had access to the inside of Nene’s mind. She had barely been able to say three words on the phone to her before Aoi stopped her and demanded an explanation for the waver in her voice. Nene wasn’t sure how she could have detected a trembling when she hadn’t even held a syllable for longer than less than a second.
Still, Aoi was smart. She would have figured it out with perhaps two more words uttered from Nene’s throat. There was no point in hiding it from her either, although Nene had somewhat wished she could have spent a few more days in lonely misery on her own. Instead, spending time at her apartment became Aoi’s daytime job.
Eating schedule, hygiene practices, class deadlines. Aoi took charge of all of it. She would cook healthy meals more nutritious than the tubs of ice cream that had served as Nene's dinners recently. If she had to, Aoi would pin Nene down and shove a toothbrush into her mouth, water and spit cup prepared. And, of course, she created a study schedule consisting of small bursts of work that Nene could just handle. Aoi kept Nene on top of things when she simply wanted to sink to the bottom of the sand pit she was stuck in.
Besides all of that, though, outside of keeping Nene afloat in her ocean of responsibilities, Aoi was the only one who knew just how to comfort Nene. There was a fine line between comforting and coddling and she walked it like a trained tightrope walker. Quiet whispers and reassurances as she held her friend to her chest were a nightly ritual in the beginning. Praise over the small victories boosted Nene in tiny but clear increments. And the occasional trash talk of her ex-boyfriend gave them both a bit of an outlet to express their anger.
In fact, it was trash talk that had led to Nene fidgeting at the edge of her bed, watching as articles of clothing flew out of her closet in heaps. "Aoi… I don't really know about this…" she admitted.
Another pile of skirts landed on the floor next to the nightstand. "Well I do know about this. You deserve to have some fun, Nene-chan! Don't you think it's time you showed that scumbag what he's missing?"
"By going to a strip club that he won't even be at though?"
"I meant showing in a metaphorical sense." Nene ignored the voice in the back of her head telling her that that wasn't quite how metaphors worked. "We're gonna show him by pushing him out of your head and replacing him with other more attractive boys. You like attractive boys, don't you, Nene-chan?"
A blush warmed her cheeks as Nene thought back to her boy-crazy days of high school. Journal entries, poetry, self-insert short stories… She'd done it all.
Luckily, an outfit landed on her head, pulling her out of her embarrassing memories as Aoi grinned at her. A grin she knew she could never escape.
Nene was drying a few leftover tears, careful not to ruin her makeup, as they parked in the club's lot. Trying on outfits had been… less than enjoyable. There were a couple bouts of sobs as Nene looked at herself in the mirror. Not only did she curse her offensive ankles, but she also couldn't stop staring at the new small pudge of her stomach.
Betrayed by ice cream… Truly nobody in this world could be trusted.
It was only after several repeated comments from Aoi about how it was barely noticeable, that Nene looked utterly adorable, and a couple suggestions that boys liked a girl with soft curves that Nene shyly admitted that maybe she filled out her high waisted shorts a little better. Only maybe though.
But as they walked into the building, a new wave of anxiety fell over Nene. Maybe she shouldn’t be here. Was this the kind of place you go when you’re on the rebound? Or not on the rebound but still emotionally crushed? What if she was vulnerable enough to be whisked away by whatever pretty boy fluttered his eyes her way? What if this potential new guy rejected her too? What if--
A familiar arm wrapped around her shoulder and she snapped her head at Aoi. “I can see the doomsday thoughts reeling in that head, Nene-chan.” The only response she had was an apologetic smile as Aoi urged her forward. “Try to relax ‘kay? It’ll be fun! You’ll see!”
As unsure as Nene was, she wanted to believe her friend. Believe that after tonight all her worries and sadness would disappear and she could just move on from the cruel words that had planted themselves in her mind. However, she wasn’t too terribly optimistic as Aoi pushed her to the edge of the stage, front and center to the several nearly nude men smoothly parading around the catwalk. Heat rose to her cheeks and she looked to Aoi who simply smiled, pointing at the bar before disappearing into the muddled mess of other patrons. Noise and colorful strobes of light surrounded her, making it difficult for her eyes to follow Aoi.
And just like that, Nene was alone. Again.
Of course, she knew she wouldn’t be alone for long. Her friend was going to return with their drinks and they could move on with the night. But wasn’t that the same kind of assumption that always made her breakups that much more devastating? The expectation that someone would return to her eventually only for that return to be a short-lived and painful one?
Was Aoi tired of Nene's sour attitude and her… clinginess? Is that why she escaped to the bar as soon as she'd placed Nene deep in the crowd? It was totally plausible, wasn't it? Maybe she really was alon--
"Why the long face, sweetheart?"
Nene jumped as she finally noticed the pair of bright amber eyes just mere inches from her face, the owner of which was lazily kicking his legs as he lay on the stage in front of her.
She couldn't see beyond his bare shoulders well enough to know what he was wearing, but god anything would be fine as long as he was wearing something on his lower half.
"I-I don't--" Nene paused as he cupped his ear, signaling her to speak up. "I don't know what you could possibly mean," she said more clearly.
Resting his elbow on the ground, he perched his chin atop his hand as he cocked a brow. "Tell that to teardrops numbers one and two, honey."
Surprised, Nene blinked a few times, releasing a couple more tears to add to the ones already sliding down her face. As quickly as she could, she pulled her wrists to swipe at her cheeks and eyes, now more flustered at the fact that a stranger had seen her crying than the possibility that this stranger may very well be wearing less than a speedo.
A devilish smirk spread across his face. “Hey now. Pretty girls shouldn’t be crying. Especially not when I’m trying to work up here. Dancing isn’t easy when there’s a damsel in distress in front of me, you know?”
Still attempting to dry her eyes, Nene just managed to speak over the music. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to be a bother. I can go--”
A chuckle interrupted her. “Wait, no no no. Just a little banter. You’re fine.” Nene watched his eyes flicker off somewhere to the side for a moment before his smile turned warm and far too wholesome for her image of an adult dancer. “Hey, why don’t you head over to the bar? Tell them to put it on Amane’s tab and get whatever your little heart desires, okay?” Accompanying his suave tone was a quick wink that Nene would have missed if her eyes weren’t glued to the boy in front of her.
“A-Amane…?” she echoed.
His expression lifted into a grin as he nodded. “You got it! Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he said, lifting himself up off the ground and revealing the thankfully modest pair of low rise trunks around his hips, “I’ve gotta get back to it. You go have fun, alright? It’d be a shame for a cutie like you to come all the way out here and not have a good time!” And with a pivot and more sashay than probably necessary, the supposed "Amane" sauntered off somewhere backstage.
It took a little bit for Nene to move after that interaction. She was doing her best to process what had just happened as she stepped through the crowd, trying to make her way to the bar. Not because an eccentric, yet admittedly charming, stripper had instructed her to do so or anything. Absolutely not. The bar was where Aoi had been headed before, so of course this was the natural thing to do. Right? Right.
When it came to actually finding her friend, however, Nene could have used some extra luck. Wandering up and down the counter was doing her no good. Not in the low light and flashes of colorful spotlights flying around.
After a few passes, Nene managed to find a stool at the end of the bar and slumped down for a break. Perhaps Aoi would come looking for her once she found that Nene had gone missing from the spot she’d left her. Glumly, Nene leaned her head on her palm as she rested her elbow on the bar and sighed.
“Whoa! You must have been dancing for a while out there!”
Nene raised her eyes to meet a familiar gold hue behind the bar, along with a familiar boyish face, familiar choppy hair, and probably a familiar body if this guy hadn’t been all gussied up in a respectable, if not messily put together, bartender outfit.
“Wh-what? How did you…?”
“Do you need ice? For your ankles?” Nene froze. “They look pretty painful!”
Several questions spun around Nene’s head. How did this guy get dressed and behind the bar so quickly? Why was he acting as if they hadn’t just talked a couple minutes ago? Was he making fun of her?
...That must have been it, right?
Practical jokes and pranks weren’t anything new to Nene. She’d survived high school bullies worse than whatever this guy could throw at her.
But she was tired and not particularly in the mood to fight back tonight. “Yeah,” Nene scoffed. “Hurts pretty bad.” Her lips perked up in a sly smirk. “How about you just give me that ice in a long island iced tea? Amane said to put it on his tab.” She almost spat the name out.
The boy behind the counter blinked a couple times, head cocked to the side in what Nene assumed was mock confusion. “Amane’s tab?” He shrugged as he turned around. “Alrighty then! If you know his real name then he must trust you.”
If Nene had rolled her eyes any harder, she was fairly certain they would have been stuck staring at her own brain. She’d give him this: The guy was willing to work for his pranks.
“One long island iced tea with ice for your ankles, miss!” he announced, sliding the highball glass in front of her.
Oh. So this was how he was gonna play. She picked up the glass and raised it to her lips. Well, Nene could play along. If this Amane guy wanted a tab, she would give him a tab.
Quickly emptying her drink, Nene slammed it down on the bar. “Another!”
By the time she was through with him, he wouldn’t have a paycheck for the night.
Amane took a long chug from his water bottle as he closed his locker. Another night had come to a close and he was just excited to get home for a shower. Maybe a cold one tonight. He'd pushed himself a bit harder than usual for whatever reason and was feeling the sweaty consequences making his T-shirt stick to him.
As he exited the locker rooms, he continued drinking until he'd drained his bottle completely. With a sigh, he detoured back toward the bar. Tsukasa would still be working for a few more hours tonight. Hopefully Amane could just sneak some water and escape before his brother cornered him for a chat.
"Amane!"
Or not.
He sighed as he approached the end of the bar where Tsukasa was stationed. "Tsu, would you mind?" Amane asked, holding his water bottle over the counter.
Tsukasa took the bottle and nodded, disappearing with a cheshire grin, leaving Amane to scratch at his head. It wasn't like his twin brother to not talk his ear off at the end of a shift. But he didn't really care. The less talk, the quicker he could get home to rest.
"Nene-chan, c'mon," a voice just to the side of him pleaded. "We need to get you home."
Another night, another set of drunks lining the bar. Nothing Amane couldn't tune out--
"And let that Amane guy-- hic -- w-win?! Nnnnuh-uh!"
At the mention of his name, Amane blinked a couple times, processing to be sure he'd heard correctly before turning to see who had slurred his name so angrily.
He almost jumped, startled at seeing the girl from earlier that night. Only, she had a much redder face. And a much more dazed look in her eyes. And a significant wobble, even as she remained perched on her stool.
The friend that had been trying to convince this other girl to leave sighed exasperatedly. "For the billionth time, I don't know who that is. You don't know an Amane, Nene-chan." Again, she tried tugging at her drunk friend's sleeve.
Dilemmas between what was right and what was desired were what some would call a fatal weakness to Amane. But he was exhausted and this girl was wasted. Surely he could skip out on being responsible just this once.
That thought lasted all of 3 seconds before he cleared his throat, calling the purple-haired girl's attention. "Uh… hi. I might be the Amane that girl is looking for?"
Large violet eyes blinked at the stranger for just a moment before she was being shoved aside by her drunk friend. "Y-youuuuu! You think yooouuu could beat me?!" she slurred. "Nene Yashiro duzzn't fall for a pretty face you know!"
It was almost comical how inebriated this seemingly withdrawn girl had become. He chuckled, leaning against the bar. "You think I have a pretty face, huh?"
"C-- hic --can it! You think you're soooooooo clever! Making me swoon over you at the stage and then rushing back to the bar to turn into this guy!" The girl--Nene, was it--threw an accusatory finger just to the left of Tsukasa who had just returned with Amane's water bottle. "Well I showed you ! You'll be begging for tips for weeeeeks just to cover my bill tonight!"
Eyebrow cocked, Amane turned to his brother. "What did she have?"
"Long island iced tea," Tsukasa answered simply, handing over the bottle.
"How many?"
"Three and a half--" A gasp and the sound of a glass being slammed down on the bar grabbed the twins' attention for a moment. "Four," Tsukasa corrected himself.
It took a decent amount of effort for Amane not to sputter out a laugh as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a $50 bill to cover the cost of Nene’s drinks plus his brother’s tip. Seeing the simple exchange, Nene narrowed her eyes at him. “Well!” Amane declared, taking a step away from the bar. “Since that’s taken care of, and my shift is over, I think I’ll be taking my leave. I’ll cover whatever exorbitant amount of drinks you rack up next time I’m in, so go wild.”
Finally, the calmer of the two girls spoke up. “Oh no, we are not going wild. We are going home ,” Amane heard her urge at Nene as he started to make his way toward the door.
Before he could even make it halfway to the exit, though, a tight grip pulled at his arm and he turned just in time to catch Nene against his chest as she toppled forward. “Don’t think you can juzzt run away!”
“N-Nene-chan!” the purple-haired girl scolded, coming up behind her.
“They aaaaalways run away!” she shouted against Amane. “‘This just isn’t working, Nene!’ or ‘We’re just not a good match!’ or ‘You’re so stupid and ugly, Nene!’” Suddenly, her voice quieted as her shoulders began to tremble and he could feel a dampness seeping into the fabric of his shirt. “What’s wrong with me…?”
Amane’s eyes shot wide open as he felt her grasp on his shirt tightening and his hands rushed up to stroke her back in circles. A pang similar to when he’d seen her crying from the stage ached in his chest and he wondered what it was about this girl that tugged at his heartstrings. Seeing women cry was something that came with his job. Ladies in need of pick-me-ups were basically 40% of his clientele. So where was the voice in the back of his head screaming at him not to leave her coming from?
Halfway between frustrated and optionless, Amane groaned. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and held it out to the girl that had accompanied the one in his arms. “Take my number. Take his, too.” He nodded toward Tsukasa as she tentatively took the phone, staring at him confusedly. “If anything happens to her, you have my full permission to call the cops on both of us--”
“Hey!” Tsukasa shouted from behind the bar. “Why are you throwing me under the bus?! I just serve drinks!”
“Shut up, Tsu,” Amane sighed before turning back to the girl. “If you could put your number in my phone too, that’d be great. But I understand if you don’t want some random stripper to just have your phone number--”
“No! No! I just…” she trailed off as she started managing the phones in her hands. “What’s going on exactly?”
With his own phone in hand, Tsukasa appeared and startled the poor lost thing. “Amane’s conscience is kicking in--”
“I said shut up, Tsu,” he reiterated. Another sigh fell from his lips as he realized that one of his hands had made it up to the back of Nene’s head. “Look, I don’t want you to think I’m some creep that steals girls away from the club I work at. I just…” He paused as a dusting of heat peppered his cheeks. “...can’t leave her like this…” A clever smirk appeared on his brother’s face, earning him an icy glare. “I said shut up…” he mumbled.
“I didn’t say a word,” Tsukasa replied calmly as he took his phone back and eyed the screen. “Aoi,” he read aloud before pointing to himself. “Tsukasa.”
Aoi presented the phone back to Amane with a pleasant smile. “And the infamous, Amane, right?” He nodded as he pocketed his phone, genuinely surprised at how willing she was to let her friend go with some stranger-- “I hope you don’t mind, but I also took your address and the bank card you have registered on your phone. So if anything happens to Nene-chan, I’ll be able to pay for your hospital bed and/or funeral with your own funds.”
Ah. There it was.
Tsukasa snickered next to Aoi and shot a wide grin at her. “I wouldn’t worry too much. Amane is a biiiiiiig softie. He’d put himself in the hospital before you could if anything happened to your friend.”
The dusting of heat became a full blanket across his face as Amane pulled Nene toward the exit. “How many times have I told you to shut up already, Tsukasa?! Jeez!”
As Amane made his way to the door, he could hear the enthusiastic guffaw of his twin brother mixed with a series of potential threats from Aoi.
This was nuts. This was insane. This was completely ridiculous. Dragging a girl he barely--scratch that-- didn’t know back to his apartment for what reason? Because his stomach twisted at the thought of abandoning her on her own? She wouldn’t even be on her own! She had a friend to take care of her!
But as he held the passenger door of his car open and buckled this girl into the seat, somehow he was sure this was the right thing to do, even in the face of the string of texts from her friend listing all the different ways she could castrate him should he do anything to hurt her.
Because even though Amane didn’t have the slightest clue what it was that he wanted, he was 100% sure that hurting her was the last thing on the list.