Chapter Text
It began, like all things in St. Dominic's do, with a gamble.
“Kira-san," Yumeko croons, voice full of mischief, eyes already crinkling like the world told her a joke she didn't want shared with the class, “I was thinking–”
"Dangerous."
“—how about a wager?" Yumeko continued, like Kira didn't say anything.
“I don't play with those beneath me."
"Aw, but how else are we gonna settle this?”
This being who gets the last serving of quinoa salad in the cafeteria. This being something stupid like Kira had all the time in the world to entertain Yumeko's baiting. This being Kira had been craving that fucking salad since last night and she's just this desperate enough to maybe agree to Yumeko's proposal. But the devilish smile isn't sowing trust, nor is Yumeko's smugness like she already won.
“I don't care," Kira flicks her wrist flippantly, “you can have it."
“Why, afraid you'd lose?" That fucking smirk, that infuriating tone, that confidence that had always gotten under Kira's skin–
Kira narrows her eyes threateningly, green eyes sharp enough to kill, but whatever fear it should instill seems to be ineffective against Yumeko, who is currently looking at her with all the hunger of a woman who is ready to claim her win.
“No, afraid you'd embarrass yourself."
"Then what's the issue? If you're so confident I'd lose, then this should be easy for you.”
"I told you, I don't play with those beneath me.”
"Come on, Kira-san, indulge me–” Yumeko steps forward, hand landing within Kira's vicinity to cup her chin, “—don’t you want to show these people how powerless I am against you? I'm sure you've seen the side bets. I'm sure you know half of the student body believes I can beat you in a game," Yumeko steps closer, their faces inches apart. She's close enough that Kira can feel her breath against her cheek, close enough that Kira can close the distance between them and kiss– kill Yumeko, probably. Maybe. Definitely.
Her eyes flicked towards those red lips, just for a second. Just for a moment. Quick enough to not be noticeable to their audience, but not quick enough for Yumeko not to catch it.
Those same red lips curved into a satisfied smirk, like she already won, like she already proved her point. Kira hated that.
Kira takes a harsh step back, glaring at Yumeko like she's the dirt under Kira's shoes. Persistent, hard to scrub off, disgusting.
“Fine. Name your game.” She says icily, with enough frost that can freeze hell.
But Yumeko? Yumeko squeals happily, like a kid who got told they can have all the candy in the world.
"I knew it! I knew you'd agree. Let's play poker–” she rummages in her bag, probably retrieving the playing cards they'd need for the game, "—if you win, you get the quinoa–” Yumeko brandishes the cards like she's a magician conjuring it from air, “—and if I win–" Yumeko takes a step forward, back within Kira's vicinity, close enough than anyone dared, close enough that she feels Yumeko's lips graze her ear, “—I get a kiss."
Kira inhales sharply– incredulously. She wasn't expecting that one.
“What?!"
“Come on, Kira-san–"
“No!"
“Don't be such a baby–"
“How dare you!"
Yumeko rolls her eyes, “—it’s just a kiss, kaichou. It can be as innocent as you'd want it to be. A smack. A three-second touching of lips. I promise I won't smear your lipstick too much." Yumeko grins devilishly, teeth grazing her lower lip like the idea of smearing Kira's lipstick gives her utmost pleasure.
Kira contemplates this wager. She wasn't a prude by any means, and this is certainly not her first kiss, but the idea of indulging Yumeko is making her more annoyed than anything. A kiss? For a fucking salad? Kira can't believe she's even giving this the neural effort of contemplation.
“Everyone's watching, kaichou." Yumeko gestures around them, the arrested audience of st. dom's student body. “Do you really wanna back down from a challenge of someone you deem not good enough to beat you?"
Kira looks around them, her eyes sweeping across the gathering crowd, the crowd of traitors who bet on her losing against Yumeko.
“That salad better be fucking worth it.”
"Oh, Kira-san, it absolutely will be.”
What happens next can only be described as cheating.
____
The acting dealer was Mary, because of-fucking-course it was Davis. The crowd gathered around them, like this was the most entertaining game they'd seen in a while. Which, it probably is. The cards they were gonna use weren't the ones Yumeko brandished like a fucking magician, but student council approved ones. Kira doesn't trust Yumeko enough to think she didn't do anything with the cards beforehand. She's stupid enough to indulge in this game but not stupid enough to trust Yumeko and her chaos.
“Riri–" Kira glances at her sister beside her, ‘’—make sure Davis doesn't do anything underhanded.”
"My, Kira-san, such trust issues,” Yumeko comments sweetly.
She glares at Yumeko, hard enough to make someone whimper, but not Yumeko. Yumeko only smiles back innocently, batting her eyelashes like an absolute brat. "I've always loved your eyes, Kira-san.”
Kira doesn't dignify that with a response.
"Start dealing, Davis.”
____
“You have such a good poker face, kaichou. I wonder what it'll take to ruin it."
“Shut up, Yumeko."
“But you're so cute when you glare at me.”
"Just play the damn game.”
____
"First round, Kira wins.”
"Aw, I thought I had you fooled.”
"Try harder, Kawamoto.”
"With pleasure, Ki-ra-san.”
____
"Second round, Yumeko wins."
“I guess it's a tie now, huh?"
“Don't be smug, it won't be for long."
“I love it when you're mean, president."
“And I love it when you shut up."
Yumeko mimes zipping her lips, but that infuriating smirk was still in place. Kira feels a vein on her forehead tick.
___
“Third round, Yumeko wins."
“My, kaichou, are you letting me win?"
“Shut. Up."
“I think you really want to kiss me–"
"Don't be ridiculous.”
"—how else do you explain this winning streak?”
"I will have Riri duct tape your mouth.”
"Do you fantasize gagging me, president?”
"No.”
"Shame–” Yumeko's fingers reach towards Kira's shoulder, tracking a path down her arm. Kira slaps it away with enough force to issue a warning. "—because I do.”
"Freak.”
"Only for you, Kira-san.”
___
“Fourth round, Kira wins."
“Oh? Catching up, I see."
“You're not winning this, Yumeko."
“Let's see, kaichou. Let's see."
___
By now, the crowd around them had doubled in size, the student grapevine whispering about the President's and Yumeko's game in the cafeteria. They were all watching with rapt attention, waiting for who'll win the game, anticipating how much they'll win when the side bet is finally concluded.
Mary shuffles the cards with the efficiency of someone who has done it since childhood. She deals them accordingly, watching as each player looks at the cards they've been dealt.
Kira sees her cards, blinking slowly. Calculating what bluff she'll throw to win this one. From her peripheral, she sees Riri nod with approval. A quiet confirmation that her cards had a chance. Across from her, Yumeko hums a quiet tune, a Japanese pop song from childhood.
“So?"
"You're not touching me today, Kawamoto.”
"There's always a next time, president.”
"Not for you, no.”
Mary clears her throat softly, interrupting the flirty banter in front of her. Really, these two are so obvious and insufferable.
"Please, reveal your cards.”
Kira lays hers down face up on the table, a straight flush. Not the sure winning hand, but strong enough to give her confidence.
Yumeko grins like a cat that licked a full bowl of cream. Kira registers that smile, feels the sweat drip down her back, and then Yumeko slams her cards on the table hard enough that the deck of cards beside Mary's hand scatters softly.
“Royal flush!" Yumeko squeals, with all the delight of a kid who absolutely won a bowl of candy on Halloween.
Kira sneers, looking back at Riri and gesturing towards Mary. “Are you sure they didn't cheat?!"
Riri shakes her head, always silent, always solemn. Her eyes conveyed sincerity, genuine enough that Kira believed her.
“Now, don't be a sore loser, Kira-san–”
Around them, the students are collecting their respective wins and losses, those who participated in the side bet and won looking smug and satisfied at the results. While those who lost were grumbling in discontent, whispering foul play and dealer's bias. A quiet part of Kira agrees.
“—you can still have the quinoa, of course. But I'm planning to collect my win.”
Kira tightens her grip on the table, knuckles turning white. She absolutely despises Yumeko, already shuddering in disgust at the thought of this.. this imbecile anywhere near her, much less kissing her. But a wager is a wager, and the optics wouldn't be great for the student council if Kira backed out of the wager she initially agreed to. Kira swallows heavily. No matter, she'll just make sure to brush her mouth three times. Maybe use hydrogen peroxide to cleanse her tongue. Anything to make sure Yumeko's germs won't linger.
Kira stands up abruptly, eyes glacial, lips pursed in quiet displeasure. “We're not doing this here. Follow me.” She turns around on her heel, already stalking towards the cafeteria doorways with one destination in mind– the student council room where they'll be afforded privacy and Kira won't be humiliated more than she already has been.
“With pleasure, kaichou.”
___
The door to the student council room bangs open, the wood slamming forcefully. Runa and Chad startles from their game, eyes tracking their president whose heels are echoing loudly across the room, eyes glacial, lips pursed in disapproval, every step screaming vengeance.
“Out." Kira throws the word like a dagger, her fury apparent with just one syllable.
Runa and Chad, bless their souls, were smart enough not to test their president when she's this murderous. They abandon their cards and quickly shuffle towards the doors, almost colliding with a smirking Yumeko whose steps are languid– predatory, with all the confidence of a panther stalking its prey and already visualizing sinking her teeth into its flesh.
Yumeko nods at them politely, a smug smile in place. The two don't bother asking her for details. They're really not planning to get murdered today.
Yumeko catches up to a glaring Kira, her growling stance illuminated by the neon lights from the large aquarium behind her. She sweeps her eyes across the room, taking note of the monitor set up in the corner where cctv footage of every corner of St. Dominic was live. She appraises the round mahogany table with its glowing surface, visualizing something sinful enacted on someone. Someone who is currently looking at her with enough hatred that Yumeko, if she were a regular student, would be trembling in the face of. But Yumeko isn't just a regular student, and she's not afraid of Kira Timurov. Really, her president looks like a growling cat if anything, a black cat whose displeasure can be felt in waves from across the room.
“Do what you need to do."
“My, eager, are we?" Yumeko stalks forward, only stopping when she's inches from Kira. She reaches out a hand, brushing a loose strand of dark hair and tucking it intimately behind Kira's ear. Kira backhands her harshly.
“That's not part of the deal."
“Loosen up a little, Kira-san. I have enough manners not to just kiss you out of nowhere."
"Fuck your manners.”
“Language, kaichou." Yumeko darts forward, lips brushing the shell of Kira's ear. “No one likes a filthy mouth."
Before Kira can say anything else, before she can spit out something venomous, something insulting, something that would surely make that unrelenting confidence of Yumeko's shrivel pathetically, Yumeko grabs her chin in one hand and ravishes her truly.
Their lips met, not politely, no. There was nothing polite about the way Yumeko is grabbing her chin, fingers splayed across her cheeks, hand redirecting her at an angle that fits their lips together like two halves of a jigsaw. Yumeko's lips move and she feels something electric zap through her, making her tingle all the way down to her fingertips which are now clutching at the other girl's blouse like a lifeline.
Yumeko kisses her like she'd been holding her breath and Kira's lips were providing her the oxygen. She kisses her like a starving woman finally given bread. She kisses her like salvation, like all her filthy prayers have been answered– like she'd been waiting for this her whole life.
Their lips glide against each other, forceful enough that Kira feels Yumeko's lips give under the pressure– forceful enough that Kira feels her blue lipstick smearing, Yumeko's teeth dragging a sinful path across her bottom lip before a tongue darts past all of Kira's defenses and swallows her whole.
She feels the wet glide of their tongues meeting, the smacking sounds echoing across the room. Yumeko tightens her grip around Kira's neck, angling her head just so, her other hand relocating to Kira's waist and pulling her closer, as if she couldn't get enough and wanted their fronts fused together.
Kira can feel herself getting lightheaded. She had never been kissed like this, not with such intensity. Not in a way that sends her shuddering in pleasure. Not in a way that she can acutely feel the glide of their tongues together, the sweet taste of their lips meeting repeatedly, and her knees buckling softly under the force of Yumeko's guidance, like she was a damsel slowly melting under the softness of her partner's lips. She didn't know how long they were standing like that, eyes closed, mouths joined, Yumeko's other hand gripping her face with such devotion, the other anchored on her waist like she was afraid Kira would step back. But when she feels Yumeko's tongue licking at the roof of her mouth, when she feels those sinful lips pressing more forcefully against her own, Kira was powerless enough to let out a breathless moan.
A moan loud enough that Kira snaps out of the fog of pleasure, forcefully ripping her lips away from Yumeko's, and pushing her harshly enough that Yumeko stumbles a step back.
They stood with enough space for the atmosphere to cool down. Both breathing heavily, both with opposite reactions to the kiss they shared just moments before. Yumeko starts chuckling, her laugh laced with sin, a finger dragging across her lips to swipe at the blue lipstick smeared there. Kira stares at her, wide eyed and hand trembling, finger grazing at her faded lipstick, the natural pink of her lips peeking through the ruined blue.
She's breathing heavily, mind racing a mile a minute, lips still tingling from where Yumeko had her devoured. She can't believe she did that. She can't believe she didn't pull away faster, she can't believe she'd let Yumeko kiss her like that–
“I've always wanted to do that." Yumeko stares at her lips, admiring the ruined color, taking pleasure at the sight of the natural pink beneath.
Kira snaps out of her haze, glaring at Yumeko with a vengeance that could level a city.
“Fuck you!"
“Next time, kaichou."
And with a smirk that absolutely steers the hatred now thrumming through Kira's spine, Yumeko turns on her heel and stalks towards the door. Still chuckling quietly, still resting a finger on her lips like she's savoring the kiss, still wearing that infuriating confidence like a fucking coat.
Kira growls, loudly. Spine straight. Hands trembling at her sides. Lipstick ruined. A creeping flush coloring her cheeks, faint enough that it matches the color of her lips.
Her mouth feels bruised, her dignity shattered, and her resolve? Slowly turning into panic.
“Riri!" She swipes harshly at her lips, like she can physically remove the imprint of Yumeko's lips, like she can tone down the tingling still humming where they met. The fucking gall, the absolute audacity– she catches sight of herself in a nearby reflection, looking positively ruined, looking positively debauched. Her lipstick looking like a bruise streaking down her chin. The bitch didn't even keep her promise!
“Riri!" She screams, fury making her hands shake (not pleasure, no. She refuses to call it that.) “Get me the fucking mouthwash!"
She needs to rinse her mouth, rinse her soul, remove any trace of Yumeko from her psyche and then–
And then she would kill Yumeko Kawamoto.