Vive Le Swing

 Don’t Shoot Annie.                                                

“I can call you whatever the hell I want.” Omen frowned at her, picking up the smug aura. He wasn’t a fan of that aura on anyone but himself.

He grunted.  “‘Perfect.’ Whatever, I didn’t say that. I’ve met her before, she seemed so fucking bland that I almost forgot.” He took a drag on his cigarette, then exhaled just to the right of Shin’s face. “You ever think about how she’s holdin’ you back? She is, isn’t she? ‘S why I don’t team up with people.” 

“Or, is she just following you and riding your coattails?” He literally just got a gift from her and now he’s trying to provoke her. 

It was the smug attitude that was pissing him off. If Omen could get her to drop that, then he wins, and that was betrayed by his tone and posture if Shin is any good at reading those.

God, what an attitude. And just after she’d given him a perfectly nice gift, too.

Shin loved it. What a character this guy was. And from a neutral perspective, he was right. Natsume was bland. And a pushover. And not as good a dancer as Shin. But to Shin, these weren’t bad qualities. They were what made her her, and what made her shine. In the same way that Omen was a character because he was turning out within seconds of meeting him to be a complete dick. So she wasn’t all that bothered, really. It was part of who he was, and the novelty and interesting points hadn’t worn off enough yet for it to be irritating.

“Hah, yeah, she may not be as quick on her feet as me, or the most colorful person out there, but hey, that’s what I’M there for, yeah?”

Her smile took a more conspiratorial shade, losing some of the smugness, or rather letting him in on it.

“Figure ya know what I’m talkin bout there yaself, eh? Fella like you, ya sure outshine most people around ya, don’t cha? But ya got it all wrong.”

She shrugged, the tone of team building gone, replaced by a casualness and nonchalance as if she were simply talking about the weather, instead of revealing the workings her work relationships.

Omen grew more and more irritated as she took so long rummaging through her bag. He glanced down the path, contemplating just going around her. Finally, at long last, she pulled something out, he looked at it, and–

If she was watching his face, she was probably close enough that she could see his eyes through gaps in the way his hair fell. They widened, just a bit, and then he blinked. 

“… Huh.” 

Then, she shoved it at him, and he took a step backwards immediately. Omen did, however, reach up and take the sign in one hand. “It’s not as shitty as the garbage I’ve gotten out of that thing.” Was that maybe a compliment? A thank you? 

He glanced down at it before tucking it under one arm. “Fukui, right? Always with that pushover?” He scanned Shin, trying to get a read on her. Perhaps it was thanks enough that he was checking to make sure he remembered the right name… but probably not the best call to insult Natsume in the process. 

Ah, there you go then!

Omen was a grumpy person, she’d figured that much out, and so Shin was just pleased as punch to have pegged his taste in gifts right.Her grin widened, and grew in smugness as well. Not even the insult to Natsume really registered as such. She was, after all, a pushover. She knew this well. She was the one who had arguably profited most from it- after all, who else would have let her friend drag her into a dancing career she didn’t even particularly want?

“Yup, that’s me. Though ya can call me Shin. Everyone does. Ya know, Fukui, so formal and all that.”

She put her hand on her hip. She was just exuding confidence and smug joy, and over such a small thing as him not literally running away from her.

“And that’s Natsume. The pushover. My dancin partner.”

She did have to put a slightly lecturing tone in her voice now, though it was obviously fake. Had to make sure she at least nominally fought for her best friend’s honor.

Far out of his league? Going to screw him up? For some reason, those words hunkered down on him much farther than the nice tips the dancer had just given him. Of course, he believed Shin was right. Natsume was most definitely out of his league. She was a pretty, blonde girl with a talent for dancing and he was a nervous, overly-excitable, freaky nerd who apparently had a talent for something that he didn’t even want a talent for. What was the point?   “R-right… Ah, she is so out of my league, Shin! I doubt the feeling is actually mutual, right? I mean, I want to try, but, d-do you think it’s actually worth it? And I really don’t want to “get screwed up” by you if I mess anything up.” He sunk a bit in his chair. He had already associated the dancer with his biggest fear. It’d be exactly the opposite of what he wanted if someone he associated lions with was to beat him up.   “Look, I appreciate all the tips and stuff, and I do really like her I think, but, ah, with what else I’m thinking and what else you’re telling me, I don’t know if I can… I don’t know if I can do any of that confidently.”

Alright, alright. He was properly intimidated, but now what? Shin didn’t want to scare him off, she wanted Natsume to be happy! Natsume should be able to get anyone she fancied, and if this boy fancied her back, then good! Didn’t he have some backbone? He should fight for the right to date her! Say something like “well i recognize that but I’ll do as I goddamn well please” or “I understand and I’ll treat her well, don’t worry”. Instead he was so quick to agree and retreat? Ugh, it was like he wasn’t invested at all.

“Hey, hey.”

Well, backbone or no, if Natsume fancied him Shin would do what she could, even if she had to reassure him. Bring him back up after bringing him down. Because she was apparently that influential.

“Ya are a fine young man, ain’t ya? Presumably handsome enough, I don’t know what with the mask and all.”

Wrong approach. Try again. She leaned forward again, replacing her smug posture with one of openness and honesty- leaning towards him slightly, hands on the table, relaxed and friendly.

“Or, what bout ya personality? Nice ‘n upbeat, yeah? Point is, whatever Natsume sees in ya, ya probably got. And she’s seein somethin in ya, believe me here. How can ya go wrong when ya already won her over without tryin?”

This felt weird. Definitely weird. Talking to him this way, as if she were helping him get a date, not Natsume. Technically those might be the same thing in this case, but they really didn’t feel like it. She was supposed to be on Natsume’s side here. But if all went well, there wouldn’t even BE sides, just working with this boy to make Natsume happy, and wasn’t that what they all wanted?

Omen looked up when he heard her name, his eyes quickly focusing on Shin. “… oh god damnit,” he muttered under his breath. 

Then she was in front of him and grinning stupidly.

“I wasn’t.” He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and held it between his middle and forefinger, then exhaled the smoke just slightly to the side instead of directly at her face. It was still likely unpleasant.

The cryptozoologist frowned. “… Well? You got somethin’ to say or can I leave without you wastin’ my time?”

Well someone hadn’t lost their attitude. This boy was downright rude. Shin wasn’t sure whether that was fine, but it did go with his aesthetics, so she was willing to give him some leeway here. Plus, they were all having a rough time. And Omen was interesting after all.

“Yeah, yeah, I got somethin ta say.”

She stepped aside and rummaged through her bag (as much as you can “rummage” through something that has only a handful of items in it). She may be drawing it out a bit more than necessary, just for the sake of being dramatic, and of giving the proper introduction to what she believed to be a (as today’s youth may say) absolutely baller gift.

“Our last talk was cut short, so I never got ta give ya....”

She pulled out the sign she absolutely and obviously would not have needed this time finding, seeing as it was the largest thing in the bag.

“This!”

She held it up for him to read.

“Pretty sweet, eh? Got it from that fortune teller thing, and thought ta myself: ‘Who could use this better than the guy who’s name is on it’?”

She looked down on it. Omen. There is was. 

“Plus, it looks kinda like somethin a guy like yaself may appreciate. Ya know.”

She pushed it towards him, almost pushed it against his chest.