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Momo had never been one to wear her heart on her sleeve. Her impassivity sometimes gave way to bursts of fury or the occasional bout of joy, but otherwise, she was good at hiding how she felt. Still, Utami could sense it – the disappointment.
Utami had grown cocky. After her successful debut match against Jungle Kyona and going from strength to strength since, she had no doubt this match was already won.
So, ending the night flat on her back, staring up at the lights, while Kyona's awful, tinny music played in the background, Utami could hardly believe it.
With this loss, their reign as Goddess champions was over. Momo was soon challenging for the Red Belt. Would this loss leave Utami behind? Would Momo abandon her, leaving her to tumble down the card as the rest of Queen’s Quest surpassed her? Would Momo now seek a new tag partner, with Utami’s hype and usefulness fading after her pinfall? Utami’s mind raced with doubts, the weight of the three-count still echoing.
Just as they had when they won the titles, they ended the night in a bar – the same one, in fact. Funny how life works like that sometimes. One drink turned into three, then six. They drank mostly in silence, appreciating the shitty grunge music echoing around them, ignoring the boisterous patrons revelling in their Saturday night out. They were alone in that little booth. Alone together.
Or perhaps just alone.
When they finally decided to call it a night, neither of them had the buzz they’d hoped for, just the hazy, sluggish fatigue that comes from drinking a little too much.
The walk back to the hotel was quiet, the cool night air doing little to clear the fog in Utami’s mind. Her hands were jammed into her pockets, and her head hung low, each step heavy with the weight of the loss. Momo trudged beside her, expression unreadable. But Utami knew better. She could feel the disappointment radiating from her partner, even if she didn’t say a word.
The hotel loomed ahead, but Utami barely registered it. All she could think about was the match - the missteps, the slip-ups, and the final, humiliating pin. She’d been so sure of her victory, so confident that nothing could go wrong. And then everything had.
They entered the lobby in silence. The lift doors opened with a soft chime, and they stepped inside. Utami leaned against the wall, staring at the floor numbers as they blinked upward. Momo stood beside her, arms crossed, staring straight ahead. Not a word. Not a glance. She won’t even look at me now…
The lift stopped, and they walked down the dimly lit hallway to their room. The silence was unbearable, but Utami couldn’t bring herself to break it. Momo swiped the keycard and pushed the door open. Utami followed her in, the door clicking shut behind them.
The weight of it all was unbearable, pressing down on her chest with every step. Utami needed something, anything - just a sign that things weren’t falling apart. That Momo wasn’t slipping away.
Without thinking, Utami reached out and grabbed Momo’s hand, her grip tight and desperate. Momo stopped, startled, her eyes flicking down to their joined hands, but she still didn’t look at Utami.
“You won’t even look at me,” Utami said, her voice trembling with a mix of frustration and fear.
Momo sighed, her tone flat. “I’m tired, Utami. It’s been a long night. Let’s just get some sleep.”
But Utami wouldn’t let go. Her hand tightened around Momo’s, pulling her closer. “Don’t do that. Don’t shut me out.” Her voice was quiet now, almost pleading.
Momo’s eyes finally met hers, but they were weary, distant. “Utami…”
Before she could say anything else, Utami stepped closer, her breath warm against Momo’s neck. She leaned in slowly, hesitantly, and pressed her lips softly to Momo’s skin. The kiss was tender, but there was a desperation in the way Utami lingered there, as if trying to anchor Momo, to keep her from slipping away completely.
Momo stiffened, caught off guard. “What are you doing?” Her voice was quiet but tense.
Utami didn’t pull away. She couldn’t. Her lips brushed against Momo’s neck, moving slowly up to her ear. Her fingers tangled gently in Momo’s hair, holding her there, close enough to feel her breath.
Momo gasped softly, her breath catching as Utami’s teeth grazed her ear. It was the first genuine reaction Utami had received all night, and for a moment, she felt the yawning abyss in her chest begin to close. Something flickered between them, fragile but real.
“Utami…” Momo’s voice was quiet, restrained. “We agreed it was a one-time thing. We wouldn’t do this again.”
“It’s just one more night,” Utami murmured, her lips hovering by Momo’s ear. “What’s the harm?”
“You’ve been drinking,” Momo replied, more firmly this time.
“No more than you.” Utami’s hand slid down, resting at Momo’s waist.
Without waiting for an answer, Utami took Momo’s hand, slipping it beneath her shirt with a deliberate motion. Momo’s fingers grazed the edge of a tender bruise, and she flinched, instinctively jerking back, but Utami held her there, refusing to let go. Tightening her grip, she guided Momo’s palm deeper into the bruise, the skin hot and swollen under her touch. The sharp intake of breath that escaped Utami’s lips cut through the silence like glass. Momo stilled, tension crackling in the small space between them. Utami's grip slackened, but her eyes held Momo's, expectant.
For a moment, her hand hovered, barely grazing the surface of Utami’s skin before pressing down again. There was no retreat this time. The touch, tentative at first, grew firmer, testing the reaction. Utami’s body stiffened, a flicker of pain crossing her face, but she remained still.
Something shifted in Momo’s gaze; Utami could see the darkening of her eyes, even in the dim light.
A faint wince from Utami turned into a silent cry as Momo pressed her knuckles deeper into the bruise.
Utami didn’t move away. She didn’t resist, only breathing through the pain, her chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths. The bruise throbbed under Momo’s hand as she returned to resting her palm on it.
Closing her eyes, Momo took a deep breath, and pushed her away. “What are you doing, Utami? Is this your way of trying to make me feel better? Some kind of pity?"
Utami stumbled back, stunned by the sudden push. Momo’s face remained a mask of indifference, but Utami could sense the frustration bubbling beneath. She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, anything that would break the wall between them, but the words stuck in her throat.
“It’s not pity,” Utami finally managed, her voice trembling. “I just… I don’t know what to do. I feel like I’m losing everything. Losing you.”
Momo let out a long, tired sigh, her arms folding across her chest as she sat down on the edge of her bed. She didn’t meet Utami’s gaze, her eyes focused on some point in the room that wasn’t there. The silence dragged on, suffocating.
Utami swallowed hard, her fists clenching at her sides. "I’m afraid, Momo. This loss... it feels like the start of something worse. What if this drags me down the card? What if I’m forgotten, just like that? You’re going for the Red Belt, and I’ll be left behind."
Momo’s eyes finally flicked up, locking onto Utami’s with a hard glare. “You think anyone’s gonna remember you losing these belts? They’re only gonna talk about how quickly you won them, Utami. You debuted four minutes ago, and you’re already tripping over belts. You think, in the grand scheme of things, this means jack shit for you? Get real.”
Utami blinked, taken aback by the bluntness. It wasn’t the reassurance she expected, but it hit harder because it was true. Her mouth opened to respond, but before she could say anything, Momo’s shoulders slumped slightly, her voice lowering.
“You’re not the one who needs to worry. It was me who couldn’t protect Io’s belt,” Momo said, her tone quieter now. “I couldn’t protect our belts. Now I’m trying to bring the Red Belt back to Queen’s Quest, and I…” Her voice faltered, eyes dropping to the floor. She exhaled shakily, rubbing a hand across her face. “It’s like every time I’m supposed to lead, to carry something for us, I drop it. I don’t know if I can keep carrying all of this…”
“Momo...” Utami began, but her voice trailed off. The words seemed inadequate. Instead, she reached out, hesitantly placing her hand on Momo’s arm. Momo’s gaze shifted to the point of contact, but she didn’t pull away.
Utami knew she had to act, to speak - something. Momo had given her a rare glimpse of vulnerability, delicate and fragile like fine china resting in Utami’s hands. She didn’t want to break it, but maybe breaking was the only way they could move forward.
It was probably the alcohol. Maybe the exhaustion. Definitely the weight of guilt and regret pressing down on her chest. But something made Utami tighten her grip on Momo’s arm, as if holding on tighter might stop everything from falling apart. Utami could feel the pressure building inside her chest, the need to act overwhelming her rational mind. Momo's pain, her frustration - it was right there, just beneath the surface. And Utami wasn’t sure how to ease it, only that she wanted to. She needed to.
Utami sat down next to her, softening her tight grip into a gentle, tickling trail down Momo’s arm, finally resting on her palm. Momo closed her eyes but remained silent. The walls were going back up, but Utami was determined to slip through before they did. As she traced light patterns on the back of Momo’s hand, she leaned in close to her ear and whispered, “Let’s just forget. For one night, let’s forget it all…”
Momo clenched her jaw. Utami was looking for solace, for something to take away the sting of their loss. She wasn’t thinking clearly, just trying to find a way to numb the pain. Momo could see that desperation, could feel it simmering just beneath the surface.
Utami might think she wanted this - think she could handle whatever came next - but Momo knew better.
There had been too much alcohol involved in their last affair for Utami to recall it clearly, but the bruises on her skin retold the story the next morning. Back then, Utami had been shocked, a little scared, trying to piece together how the night had left her with more wounds than a championship match. Momo wasn’t the type to play gentle, after all. They’d both agreed that night had been a mistake, for many reasons, and both were content in agreeing to never repeat it again.
And yet, despite knowing all of this, Momo felt the temptation clawing at her. Utami had that effect - she always had. Very few people were immune to her charms, but Momo had never been the subject of her affection since that night. But now, the way she kept pushing, teasing, pulling Momo closer when she should be pulling away… and the way she guided Momo’s hand to her bruises… Utami was offering herself up on a silver platter.
Momo swallowed hard, her hands twitching at her sides. She wanted this. She wanted to let off some steam, to feel something other than the weight of her own failures, and Utami - bruised and broken - was right there, asking for more. But Momo couldn’t shake the thought. Utami didn’t really want this - not with her.
Her voice was barely a whisper, a warning. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“I know exactly what I’m asking for,” Utami countered quickly. Taking Momo’s hand, she guided it to her waist, just above her jeans, where a dark bruise was already forming.
Momo’s breath hitched. Instinctively, she tried to pull back, clinging to some last shred of sanity, but Utami wouldn’t let go.
“It’s okay,” Utami murmured, her voice low and breath heavy. “I want it to hurt. I need it to.”
Taking that as permission carved into stone, and not being able to resist any longer, Momo's fingers dug into Utami's skin, pressing into the bruise with deliberate force, testing the limits of Utami’s tolerance. She watched as Utami winced, a sharp intake of breath escaping her lips, but no words of protest followed. So Momo pushed harder, harder, her grip unwavering, waiting for the moment Utami might break - but instead, Utami moaned, a sound that only encouraged Momo further.
Both she and Utami knew there would be plenty more bruises before the night was over…