Chapter Text
Kira has a headache.
No, that isn’t a metaphor for anything. Or anyone. Definitely not for a certain dark-eyed girl who’s been casting ripples in the carefully controlled waters of St. Dom’s. Kira’s carefully controlled waters.
Her forearms strain against her rolled-up sleeves as she clenches her fists on her desk. She’s been reviewing the leaderboard changes since the Bet Gala, painstakingly tracing the betting trends. It doesn’t make any fucking sense. Yumeko had no reason to lose that match. So why did she?
Was it all for that… boy?
The two ibuprofen Kira had popped aren’t kicking in and she’s about to reach for the little bottle again when Riri comes up behind her. “You might want to check on Chad,” her sister says quietly.
“Why do I care about what Chad is doing,” Kira mutters, not bothering to make it sound like a question or to mask the ire in her voice.
Unfazed, her sister says, “He’s gambling with Yumeko.”
If the sound of that name makes Kira’s breath come faster, it’s only from anger and not from anything else. Her voice thankfully doesn’t betray any of that. “Good thing she’s on a losing streak.”
“They’re alone in her room,” Riri says.
Kira stands up so fast her chair topples over. “Why the fuck didn’t you lead with that?”
-
Dori’s crouched outside the door to Yumeko’s room, rattling something into the keyhole and swearing under her breath. She must have been hyper-focused because Kira has to come up right behind her and hiss, “Move.”
“Shit!” Whatever Dori’s trying to jam into the lock snaps clean in half and she lurches to her feet, scowling. “What’s your fucking problem?”
“What do you think you’re doing?” Kira snaps.
“Trapping Yumeko, duh,” Dori replies, dusting off her knees. “If she can’t go anywhere, she’s never making that money back -”
Kira pushes past her and puts a hand on the doorknob. “Yumeko is my problem and I don’t recall asking for your help.”
“What are you -” Dori gulps back whatever she was about to say when Kira glares back at her. “Fine, I’m going!”
As the footsteps recede down the otherwise empty hallway, Kira huffs a hard breath and pushes the door open.
Five pairs of eyes immediately swivel towards her.
What the hell.
Kira barely registers Mary just inside the door, one hand out as if she was about to leave and looking petrified. That boy - Richard? Ryland? - is posted up in the corner like a decorative plant, and the other boy that Dori’s obsessed with is also next to the bed looking like a beached fish. Poker chips rattle onto the mess of cards on the table in the center of the room as Chad fumbles a whole stack of them, dressed only in his boxers and shirt, his eyeballs bugging.
Across from him, Yumeko straightens up from where she’d been leaning over the table. Her half-unbuttoned blouse gapes open from the movement and Kira’s gaze jumps hungrily from the glint of her housepet chain to the parted edges of the fabric. Yumeko’s skirt is still mostly in place, despite being a bit wrinkled, and as Kira’s gaze continues to travel downward, her black stocking - singular - is also still in place, pulled high on her leg. The other stocking lies pooled on the floor and Kira’s eyes track up the bare leg it should have been covering -
Somebody coughs and Kira snaps her gaze back up. Yumeko’s watching her, not a single trace of her usual smirk on her face. Her eyes are as dark as space.
Kira realized she probably should’ve thought this through.
“So -” Mary starts to say from behind Kira and it’s like the air rushes back into the room.
“Everybody out.” Kira’s voice is like a stone hitting water at the bottom of a well.
Nobody moves.
Kira swings the door open and it hits the wall with a BANG, making everybody flinch - except Yumeko, who merely blinks once, slowly, like a cat. Something hot and dangerous spirals up in Kira in response and she takes a step further into the room, brushing past Mary, who makes a panicked squeaking sound and darts out through the open doorway. Chad follows in a blur, trailing poker chips in his wake, and that leaves those two boys still standing on opposite sides of the room like toy soldiers.
To - Robert’s? - credit, his voice doesn’t shake when he says, “Come back with a warrant.”
Kira doesn’t dignify that idiotic statement with a response. She keeps her eyes on Yumeko, who in turn hasn’t looked away from her the entire time either and still holds Kira’s gaze as she says in her customary soft voice, “Ryan, Michael, you two should do as she says.”
Ryan turns to face Yumeko, aghast. “But -”
Michael snorts and gets up, grabbing the other boy by the arm. “Come on, buddy. We’re only getting in the way. Let’s go.”
As Michael hauls him past Kira and out of the room, Ryan makes a pleading face at Yumeko as if expecting her to call him back. Kira suppresses an eye roll. Yumeko hasn’t even looked at him.
The door shuts behind them and Yumeko finally - finally - cracks a tiny smirk.
“If you’re here, it better be for a good reason, President,” she says, brushing the mess of cards and chips on the table into a pile. “I’m on a deadline.”
“I’m aware,” Kira replies and immediately wants to bash her head into the wall. Of all the lame things she could’ve said -
“Well, if you’re not here to give me fifty-four thousand dollars, I’m gonna have to bounce,” Yumeko says airily and reaches down for her discarded stocking. Her housepet chain swings away from her chest and Kira blames the glint of the metal for attracting her eyes to that area and to just the slightest sliver of red lace -
The other girl straightens up, pulling her stocking back up her leg with the movement and Kira blinks like she’s been slapped. Her headache, which had receded for a moment, comes crashing back between her eyes and she snaps, “What the fuck were you doing?”
Yumeko fiddles with the hem of her blouse as if she’s about to do the buttons back up and Kira’s clenching her fists so tightly her nails are cutting into her palms. “You want me to run around the school with only one stocking on?”
“What? I don’t -” Kira grits her teeth and storms over to the window, drawing the curtain shut with a yank. The newfound dimness makes the pounding in her head recede momentarily but then she turns around and Yumeko’s walked around the table to stand by her desk; the hazy light makes the skin of her exposed throat glisten and Kira has to take a long, manual breath.
Control yourself. Seize the situation. Kira crosses her arms and realizes she would’ve looked a lot more intimidating if she hadn’t left her blazer somewhere back in her office. She’s just in her starched white button-down, sleeves rolled to the elbows, and dress pants. Yumeko lifts an eyebrow as if she’s thinking the same thing but before the other girl can say anything and upset her balance further, Kira demands, “Strip poker? With Chad? Really?”
“I don’t think you realize,” Yumeko says, crossing her arms as well, the chain of the housepet tag disappearing into her open shirt. “You’ve put me into quite a difficult position, President.”
I’d like to put you into a few different positions, Kira thinks recklessly, then blinks, hard. What the fuck.
“You think you’d actually get any money from him?” Kira scoffs in defense.
“I know I can,” Yumeko says dismissively. “More than I’m getting right now talking to you, at least.” She gathers up the cards from the table and starts to tap them into order. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some gambling to do -”
Kira’s legs move across the room without any specific instruction from her brain, and her mouth forms the words, “Gamble with me.”
Yumeko’s hands go still and she looks up at Kira who’s now standing right in front of her. “Excuse me?”
“Strip poker,” Kira says, voice low to keep it from trembling. “Except every time I lose, I’ll double my previous bet.”
Those eyes fix onto Kira, a dark brown so clear that one might expect them to be shallow and then drown in their depths. “And why would I accept a gamble from the Student Council President?”
Kira steps closer, hedging her advantage. “Why wouldn’t you?” She takes Yumeko’s housepet chain and threads it through her fingers, watches the muscles of her throat move as she swallows. “You’re not going to get a better offer.”
-
The sound of poker chips being sorted is thunderous in the small dimly lit room as Kira makes an assortment of neat towers on the table. Across from her, Yumeko produces a paper cup painted black and says, “No cards. We’re using dice.”
Kira looks up from where she’s picking out the chips to represent the starting wager amount. “What?”
Yumeko’s smile is actually a little sheepish. “That deck was Chad’s and it was marked.”
She knew Chad was cheating and she was gambling with him anyway? Classic Yumeko. Well, Kira’s not going to be played so easily even though Yumeko’s still smiling and it’s softening her eyes - fuck, what? Kira grabs the cup and upturns it into her hand. Two blood-red dice fall out and she inspects them, noting their size and weight. They don’t seem to be loaded so that they're biased to land on a specific number. A surprise, definitely.
“Lowest roll wins,” Yumeko says. “What’s your starting amount?”
Kira tosses one of the chips in her palm, pretending to think. She has no intention of giving Yumeko any significant amount of money - certainly not enough to get her out of housepet status. Just enough to keep her occupied until time runs out. “Five hundred. And I’ll double every subsequent bet.”
Yumeko’s expression doesn’t change but Kira can almost hear her calculating how many rounds it would take for her to earn enough to negate her debt. Not that it matters at all. Kira is only limited by how much clothing Yumeko currently has on.
What bothers her is that Yumeko definitely knows this as well.
“Well,” Yumeko says lightly after a short pause, “challenger rolls first.”
Kira pushes forward $500 worth of chips as she rattles the dice around in the cup. Aiming to get a certain number during the roll is doable, even with unloaded dice, but she wants the satisfaction of winning without resorting to such tactics. Purely because of the importance of establishing control.
She lifts the cup. It’s a three and a two. “Five.”
Not a great roll but not terrible either. Yumeko tosses the dice back into the cup and overturns it in one smooth motion. Her gaze is fixed steadfastly downward. Kira knows for a fact that even if she was aiming her roll, she doesn’t need to focus so hard on her movements. Yumeko is avoiding her eyes and it should not irk her this much.
The dice rattle and the cup is lifted. Yumeko’s dark eyelashes flicker as she looks between the two dice. It’s a two and a five.
Kira’s grin is swift and full of teeth. “Mm, tragic.”
For just a split second, Yumeko’s eyes flit upward to meet hers and Kira’s grin calcifies. Blood rushes in her ears at the pure heat in Yumeko’s stare - it’s as if there’s a molten red ring around her pupils -
Then the other girl giggles and puts the cup back over the dice. “Stockings count separately, right? And I just put this one back on too…”
Her hands go under the table and there’s the faint but telltale sound of fabric whispering over bare skin. Kira sits, frozen. The nerve of this girl to lose the first round and then remove her stocking under the table out of Kira’s view! What should she do? Demand for her to do it properly? Flip the table?
No. She’s in control.
Then Yumeko runs her foot up the inside of Kira’s pant leg.
Kira’s headache miraculously disappears because all the blood has evacuated her brain. Where it’s gone is nobody’s business. Teeth cracking together, she yanks her leg away and grabs the dice cup at the same time, giving it a violent shake and dumping the dice out.
A six and a three. “Ooh,” Yumeko giggles.
A godawful roll. Shit. But it could’ve been worse. Yumeko rolls and the dice clink together like teeth. A six and a four.
What?
Yumeko giggles one more time. “What an awful start,” she says with a sigh. “I guess I’ll just lose my other stocking.”
Kira barely hears her. There’s no way Yumeko hadn’t aimed that roll. But to lose? Granted, she’s still fairly safe with what pieces of clothing she can remove, but getting Kira to quickly double her bets after each round would be the best strategy.
That is, if Yumeko wanted to win.
Kira’s starting to think she’s misunderstood what winning means to this girl.
As if to prove her right, Yumeko stands up and props her foot up on her chair. She slides her fingers under the hem of her sheer black stocking.
Kira couldn’t hide her ravenous stare even if she wanted to.
It’s stupid. Kira’s not a stranger to pretty legs. But as inch after inch of smooth pale skin comes into view she has to make sure she’s breathing with her lungs and through her nose like a normal human being. Yumeko’s palm glides down the side of her shin and Kira’s eyes follow the movement as if she can feel her skin through her stare.
Then, abruptly, Yumeko rolls the stocking off her foot and tosses it next to its twin on the floor. “Hm, I don’t think I’ve ever seen your pupils this big, President. Can’t even see the blue anymore.”
Kira drags her gaze from Yumeko’s propped-up leg up to her face. “Smart mouth you have there after losing twice in a row.”
Yumeko sits back down with a perky grin. “Whatever you say.”
Kira rolls two two’s on the next round. Almost unbeatable. She sits back, satisfied.
Then Yumeko rolls two ones.
“Oh! Look at that,” she chirps, clapping her hands together. “Snake eyes! Who would’ve thought?”
Kira’s nostrils flare as she adds more chips to the pile, bringing the total up to $1,000. There’s no way Yumeko hadn’t aimed that roll.
Two can play that game.
Kira rolls a four and a one on the next turn. Well, fuck. She’s a little rusty.
Yumeko rolls snake eyes again.
Kira stands abruptly. “Are you manipulating your rolls?”
“Hm?” Yumeko blinks up at her. “Does it matter?”
Kira’s about to yell, Yes it fucking matters, but then she catches herself. She has no way to prove that Yumeko has a dice rolling technique and she’d agreed at the start of the game that the dice were unloaded. Yumeko is playing her like a violin.
She needs to beat this girl with her own methods.
Kira sits back down. “Give me the dice.”
She rolls snake eyes.
A smirk curves Kira’s mouth like a scythe. Still got it. “Interesting.”
Yumeko makes a noncommittal sound. She swoops the dice in an elegant circle inside the downturned cup and lets them skitter out over the surface of the table.
Snake eyes, three times in a row. A tie.
Kira runs her tongue over her bottom lip and says, “What are the provisions in the event of a tie?”
“How about,” Yumeko leans forward and her housepet chain jingles, “you get to choose what piece of clothing I take off.”
Kira raises an eyebrow.
“And you quadruple the bet,” Yumeko finishes, sitting back.
$4,000? Kira uncrosses her legs. “No.”
Yumeko opens her mouth but Kira holds up her hand. “I choose what you take off, and I take it off of you.”
There’s a beat of silence. Then Yumeko says, “Should I go over there or are you coming over here?”
Kira doesn’t succumb to the overwhelming urge to grin, but she takes her sweet time counting out the chips to equal $4,000. She’s barely finished stacking the last chip when Yumeko suddenly gets up and rounds the table, grabbing Kira’s wrist hard enough to make her almost knock the stack over.
“In a hurry?” Kira says lowly.
“I’m on a deadline, remember,” Yumeko answers and deposits herself neatly into Kira’s lap.
All the air in Kira’s lungs escapes at once - not so much from Yumeko’s weight, which settles as a warm and soft lapful on top of her, but because of the compounding effect from her sweet dark-cherry scent and from the feeling of her bare thighs in Kira’s hands, which she had instinctively grabbed to steady the girl in her lap. Yumeko makes a small pleased sound and shifts her hips slightly forward as she raises her arms to pull her long dark hair back over her shoulders. Kira’s heart drops somewhere down into her stomach.
A flashback memory plays in her scrambled brain - a teasing hint of red lace behind the swinging housepet tag.
“I choose the blouse,” Kira says, her voice low and even.
Yumeko hums. “Predictable.”
Kira ignores the bait and starts undoing the buttons. She keeps the blouse closed until she reaches the last one, then pushes the limp piece of clothing back just enough for it to hang off of Yumeko’s shoulders.
Kira’s hands stay on top of the fabric. “Can I touch?”
There’s a flash of surprise in Yumeko’s eyes, then she gives a little laugh. “Aren’t you already doing that?”
Roughly, Kira grabs the sleeves of the blouse and yanks them down Yumeko’s arms, tearing the garment completely off of her.
Fuck.
Yumeko’s bra is the same color as the dice - the same color as her mouth.
Kira breathes out once, hard. “You wore this for Chad?”
“Jealous?” Yumeko teases. The look in Kira’s eyes must be dire because she rests her hands lightly on Kira’s shoulders and says a little more seriously, “I wear this for me.”
Kira suddenly remembers every interaction they’ve ever had up until this point. This knowledge is going to ruin every future interaction for her for sure.
“Well, the round is over,” Yumeko says airily. “Your turn to roll, President - ah!”
Kira hadn’t even registered that her grip had tightened on Yumeko’s thighs when the other girl had tried to get up, digging her fingertips into the smooth pale skin. Yumeko’s hands fly from Kira’s shoulders to the back of her neck, nails scratching under her hair. Her back arches - just slightly - and Kira feels her legs go numb at the sight of the housepet tag nestled between two perfect lace-clad breasts, tempting her relentlessly.
“You stay right here,” Kira grits out, “and I’ll quadruple my bet one more time.”
Yumeko blinks. Her lips part slightly as she looks down at Kira, and there’s a rosy flush slowly forming on her cheeks.
Kira slips her fingers just under the hem of Yumeko’s skirt.
The girl’s thigh muscles twitch, clenching together, and suddenly she leans forward so that their noses are almost touching. Yumeko’s hand tightens in the hair at the base of Kira’s head as she whispers, “Quintuple the bet.”
Kira’s vision had tunneled. Everything outside of Yumeko had disappeared from her mind entirely. Blindly, she reaches a hand for the chips on the table and adds $16,000 to the pile, bringing up the total to $20,000.
Yumeko twists around in her lap to check, and Kira admires the taut lines of her stomach as she does so. Her hands migrate from their place on her thighs up to her waist, squeezing the flesh there, thumbs pressing into her hips just above the waistband of her skirt.
Then Yumeko turns back around to face her and slaps her hands away. “Roll the dice before I change my mind!”
Kira holds her hands up, grinning rakishly although her entire body is on fire. “You’re not exactly in a position to be changing your mind, baby.”
The term of endearment catches them both off guard. Kira swallows thickly, momentarily off balance, as Yumeko’s blush suffuses downward towards her chest. Fucking fuck. Kira reaches around the girl in her lap, grips the dice cup, and gives it a careless shake before overturning it.
“Tell me what I rolled,” Kira says.
Yumeko looks over her shoulder, and it takes all of Kira’s trembling resolve to not press her mouth against her exposed jawline. “Two threes.”
She shifts to the side slightly so that Kira can verify, and the movement makes sweat break out on the back of Kira’s neck. She curls her hand around Yumeko’s waist again and says, “If you roll without looking and win, you can go back to your seat.”
She won’t win.
Yumeko taps a finger against her chin as if pondering the proposal. Her chest is still flushed prettily and it’s starting to debilitate Kira so badly that it’s genuinely worrisome. So she doesn’t know what to think when the girl in her lap suddenly flashes her a bright smile and says, “I refuse!”
And without warning, Yumeko lifts herself up just enough to turn herself around and settles right back down, her back pressed against Kira’s front and her ass right against her zipper.
Her hair swings right across Kira’s face, and that sweet cherry scent - fuck -
The dice rattle in the cup, and just as Yumeko flicks her wrist, Kira gathers her hair to the side and presses her mouth to the back of her neck, right at the top of her spine.
Yumeko’s entire back tenses against Kira’s front, and the sound that escapes her vibrates down through Kira’s whole body.
Kira sucks the skin, laving it with her tongue. She doesn’t even feel like a real person - just a ragged amalgamation of sensations and desires. How can someone’s skin be so soft and taste so sweet? It’s maddening.
Yumeko is maddening.
Kira’s hand cups one of her breasts and the dice fall to the floor with a loud rattle.
The noise yanks Kira out of her spell and she breaks away from Yumeko, breathing hard. Fuck, her lipstick is marked on the back of Yumeko’s neck like a signature. Like a promise. Yumeko lets out a shaky sigh and says, “You made me drop the dice.”
Kira blinks idiotically and looks around. The dice are by the foot of the table, close enough for both of them to see that both dice had landed on ones.
The room is entirely too hot. Kira doesn’t know if she’s burning up from anger or desire. How the fuck is Yumeko still rolling snake eyes? There’s a cheerful giggle from the girl in her lap and she tosses her hair back over her other shoulder, covering Kira’s lip mark. “Ooh, too bad! I’m up $20,000!”
This is getting dangerous. Kira suddenly gets up, spilling Yumeko out of her lap; she would’ve fallen if Kira hadn’t caught her around the waist and set her squarely on top of the table. Kira leans in, hands planted on the table on either side of her, and says, “I propose an amendment to the rules.”
Yumeko’s chest is heaving slightly but she still smirks right into Kira’s face. “Is that desperation I’m hearing?”
“If you win, the terms remain the same,” Kira says, “but if I win…” She winds Yumeko’s housepet chain through her fingers and tugs suddenly, just enough to bring them a breath apart. The sound of Yumeko’s sharp inhale could have fueled her for an entire week. “I get to do whatever I want to you.”
Yumeko’s wine-dark eyes swirl with something dangerous as she stares back at Kira. Her gaze flickers downward - just for a split second - then back up, and she smiles.
“Shall we bet on it?”
Have mercy.
“Lowest roll decides if we accept these new terms,” Yumeko continues sunnily.
Kira lets the chain of Yumeko’s housepet tag cut into her knuckles for a heartbeat longer, then lets go and steps back. She grabs the dice off the floor and drops them into the cup.
She rolls a two and a one. It’s a test.
She wants to see if Yumeko will beat her with snake eyes. Again. She knows she can. Whether or not she will…
Kira wants to know what Yumeko wants.
The other girl stays perched on the table right where Kira had put her, only in her skirt and bra, housepet tag dangling against her chest. She shouldn’t be so controlled. She shouldn’t look like… like that. A siren sent to ruin Kira forever.
Yumeko shakes the cup languidly, eyes never leaving Kira. She sends the dice scattering across the table.
Boxcars. Two sixes. The absolute worst roll you could possibly get.
And yet, Yumeko’s grinning as she purrs, “Looks like we have an amendment to the rules.”