Girls’ Nights Out! 1

(Akane's PoV)

—

The first thing Hoshiko did when we got inside was attack the strawberry milk.

She pulled the carton from Sora's shopping bag like she'd just rescued a child from a burning building, stabbed the straw through the foil, and took a long sip with her eyes closed in pure ecstasy.

Sora and I stared at her awkwardly.

When she finally lowered it, she looked up at the ceiling.

"This is the best thing that has ever happened to this studio in the last two months." She said.

"It's milk, Hoshiko." I sighed.

"It's a gift, baby wolf. Gifts have power, you know?"

She then wiped her chocolate-covered cheek with her wrist, somehow managing to spread the stain even farther, then turned toward Sora.

"Right, Lady Folder! It's Hoshiko's tour time!"

Sora blinked. "Lady... Folder?"

"You carry a folder. So that's your name now." Hoshiko replied.

I giggled.

Before Sora could protest, Hoshiko slipped the folder out from under her arm, opened a drawer beneath the counter, and dropped it inside.

Thump.

"There! It's sleeping. Folders aren't allowed in the sanctuary after six, you know?"

"But... that has the festival schedule in it..." Sora sighed.

"And the festival things will survive until morning. Come on!" Hoshiko scratched the back of her head. "Just allow yourself to relax, just for one night!"

Sora stared at the closed drawer, and then at her empty arm.

I could practically see her calculating how many school regulations had just been violated.

But eventually, she followed Hoshiko. One victory for girls' night.

I stayed near the entrance for another moment, looking around.

Same old studio.

The neon was humming above the counter, and the incense had burned down to a little curl of gray ash. Hoshiko had apparently been cleaning when I interrupted her.

And by cleaning, I mean she'd thrown everything she didn't want to deal with into one corner. Typical.

A hoodie lay over a suspiciously lumpy shape beside the bookshelf, exactly where her sleeping bag was.

'Hm....' I glanced at Hoshiko, but she caught me looking.

Then, for some 'unknown' reason, she immediately raised her voice.

"AND THESE!" She pointed dramatically at the wall. "THESE ARE MY BABIES!"

The wall behind her workstation was covered almost entirely with artwork. Flash sheets, photographs of finished tattoos, pencil sketches, and I even saw a collection of original paintings in cheap black frames.

Hoshiko led Sora along the display, occasionally using her strawberry milk straw as a pointer.

"This one was for an eighty-one-year-old fisherman." She stopped in front of a photograph showing a large koi swimming up a man's weathered back. "He wanted it somewhere his wife could see."

Sora leaned closer. The koi was beautiful. Orange and black scales curved across the man's shoulder blade, surrounded by thin blue lines representing water.

"His wife?" Sora asked.

"Yeah. She passed away the year before." Hoshiko took another sip of milk. "He told me she used to sit by the window while he worked on his fishing equipment. So he wanted the koi facing that direction."

Sora looked back at the photograph.

"When I started working on it, he cried so hard that we had to stop. Couldn't even finish the session."

"Oh..." Sora's voice softened.

"So we made tea instead and sat around talking for a couple of hours. He came back another day." Hoshiko smiled. "Apparently, he loved his wife a lot, to the point of remembering every single moment they shared together. Damn. I should've received compensation for the psychological session." 

Sora pressed her hands together. "That's... really beautiful."

"Right?" Hoshiko grinned and moved to the next frame. "And this one is a clock surrounded by roses. The woman wanted the exact hour her daughter was born."

She then pointed farther along the wall.

"Those are whales. Well... I do a lot of whales, actually. People seem to like carrying something big and gentle around with them." Then she stopped at a small pencil drawing. A fox curled around a crescent moon. "Ah. That one's mine. I did it after Akane called me 'idiotic fox' for the first time."

Sora tilted her head before giggling. "Did you tattoo it on someone?"

"Nope. I only drew that one for myself." She looked at me for an instant, and I smiled back.

Sora studied the drawing for a while, and then she turned to Hoshiko.

"Tsukishiro-san... you have a beautiful talent," Sora said, her voice soft.

Hoshiko threw her head back. "HAH! I KNOW! THANK YOU!" 

Of course. Maximum volume and maximum confidence. Classic Hoshiko's behavior.

But I was standing close enough to see the tips of her ears turning pink. Her gaze also lingered on the little fox drawing longer than it needed to.

Heh.

Hoshiko could threaten to tattoo somebody's forehead without blinking, but give her a sincere compliment and she'd immediately start shouting to cover up the embarrassment.

Sora simply smiled and then continued looking at the drawings while I left them to it and headed toward the large black leather chair in the middle of the room.

Ah. My old enemy.

I dropped into it, stretched my legs onto the footrest, and leaned my head back. It creaked in exactly the same place.

"Jeez..." I sighed. "So many bad memories in this chair."

Sora turned around. "Bad memories? Why?"

I grinned, then grabbed the bottom of my hoodie and pulled it up over my ribs.

The snake tattoo curled along my right side, its scales climbing toward my chest beneath the fabric.

Four hours. Four miserable, painful hours under Hoshiko's needle. A world record considering how detailed that snake was.

Sora's eyes widened. "Akane?!" She came closer, then stopped at a respectful distance. "When did you...?"

Her gaze traveled along the tattoo. "It's enormous!"

"It's a masterpiece," Hoshiko announced proudly. Then her grin widened. "Also, this idiot fainted while getting it."

"WHAT?!" Sora exclaimed.

"Yeah. I hadn't eaten for two days, well... family stuff. I actually underestimated the pain, and passed out." I said, remembering that day.

Sora covered her mouth.

I then pulled my hoodie back down with a sigh. I didn't want to show her the moth.

"Well, at least she did a good job with that." I crossed my arms. "Besides, I woke up with a bag of dried plums beside me and a very guilty tattoo artist hovering over my head. Could've been worse."

"I fed you for an entire week!" Hoshiko protested.

"Sadly true. A lot of plums and junk food." I said.

"And phone calls every hour," Hoshiko added.

Sora started laughing, and Hoshiko immediately leaned toward her, cupping one hand around her mouth as though she were about to share a secret.

Her whisper was loud enough to reach the street. "So..."

Sora tilted her head. "Yes?"

"Wanna get one too?" Hoshiko asked. "I have a lot of beautiful concepts I wanted to tattoo on someone. I promise that I won't ask for a single yen."

Sora jumped backward. "I-I can't! I'm..."

"KIDDING!" Hoshiko burst into laughter, nearly doubling over and spilling her milk. "OH MY GOD! YOUR FACE!"

"Tsukishiro-san!" Sora pouted. "That's mean!" 

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! AHAHAHA! I can't!" She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "Well. Call me Hoshiko, please. I hate the -san. It makes me feel like a grandma."

"Okay... but that wasn't funny at all, H-Hoshiko." Sora was smiling despite herself.

I laughed too.

Honestly, spending time with Hoshiko was exhausting. In the best possible way.

She then clapped her hands. "RIGHT! So what are we doing tonight, baby wolf? Board games? Karaoke? Spicy confessions?" She winked at me. I immediately understood what she wanted to talk about.

"No confessions," I said, my voice sharpening.

"Boooo!" Hoshiko did a thumbs down.

"Well... I was thinking pizza," I said. "That little place we went to last time with Shin."

Her eyes lit up. "Oh? That place again?!"

I nodded. "That one."

"YES!"

"But before that..." I slowly turned toward Sora, and Hoshiko followed my gaze until we looked at her together.

Sora looked between us.

"...What?"

I smiled. "We're getting this angel a wardrobe."

She blinked.

"I'm sorry?"

"Look at her, fox. She's too normal, as you said." I said, my voice casual.

"Akane..." Sora tried to speak.

"She's got a face that could pull off practically anything, and she spends every day dressed like she's about to inspect somebody's tax returns."

Hoshiko slowly nodded.

"Ohhhh..." Sora looked offended. "I am a student, and I have a very important job! I'm required to wear a uniform!"

"Sure," I said. "And outside school?"

"I—" She hesitated. "It's not that I don't have other clothes... It's that I never have the chance to wear them..."

Hoshiko raised an eyebrow. "Lady Folder."

"Yes?" Sora said, without looking directly at her.

"Do you own anything black that isn't part of your school uniform?"

A pause. "...I have black socks," Sora said.

I covered my mouth.

'Oh, this is going to be good.'

Hoshiko then slung an arm around Sora's shoulders and pulled her close.

"PERFECT!" She exclaimed.

Sora squeaked.

"I know exactly where we're going! There's this amazing little shop with the prettiest clothes, and oh my God, you would look incredible in them!" She looked at me. "Baby wolf, you genius!"

"Naturally." I shrugged.

"Let's do it!" Hoshiko said.

Sora turned toward me over Hoshiko's arm. Her eyes were enormous.

'Akane. Help.'

I raised both hands. "Sorry, little angel. She's already decided."

"But I don't think I actually need—" Sora tried to protest.

"Nobody has ever successfully talked Hoshiko out of anything. Not even her clients. Trust me. I've tried."

Hoshiko beamed at her.

Sora looked at me, then back at the overly enthusiastic tattoo artist practically hanging off her shoulder.

Finally, she sighed. "...Fine."

"YEEEEES!" Hoshiko spun her around. Again.

I climbed out of the chair before she decided to pick me up too.

'Jeez. What had I gotten myself into?'

And then, it took Hoshiko four minutes to close the studio.

Four minutes of flipping switches, checking windows, searching for her keys, and loudly accusing the furniture of stealing them.

She eventually found the keys beneath the hoodie beside the bookshelf.

I watched from the doorway while she turned off the lamp above her workstation.

Then she stopped with her hand on the next switch, and after a moment, she left it alone. Same with the one beside it.

When we stepped outside, the neon sign was still glowing above the iron door.

Through the little window, I could see she'd left the lights on inside. All of them.

Hoshiko locked the door, then reached up and gave the sign a familiar little pat.

She always did that, like she was saying goodbye to a pet.

And then, we walked away.