#ykw

It was late in the evening. Extremely late. So much so that it would technically be considered the morning.

It was quiet in the Bada-Bing Tower. For the most part, at least.

The floor beneath the archival floor had a bar. A bar that was open all night long. On the archival floor was a small bedroom, one where Calne Cairene, the archivist, lived.

Tonight, the commotion was far too much for her to handle. She gets out of bed and changes into a soft sweater and long skirt. She just barely brushes through her hair, then she leaves the small bedroom and heads towards the elevator on the far side of the archive.

She gets into the machine and she hits the button for the floor beneath hers, a headache starting to grate at the front of her brain as she approaches the loud floor. The elevator dings open and she’s barely noticed as she moves towards the bar.

Calne takes a seat at the very end and the bartender looks her up and down. His eyes linger a little too long on her chest before he walks over to her.

“What can I get you, Miss Zomgirl?” The bartender asks her, leaning a bit too close for comfort.

Calne sighs. Since she started working in the Bada-Bing Tower as the resident archivist, the only attention she’s been getting has been gross and unwanted. Frankly, Calne just wishes she had a friend there… and don’t get her wrong, she does, but when she’s surrounded by perverted people, she doesn’t quite think about the one or two genuine relations she has there.

“Whatever you feel like making.” She says, “I just need it to be strong enough to make me not care about how loud it is down here.”

The bartender nods and he pulls his scrutinizing gaze away from Calne, albeit reluctantly.

She receives her drink and she sits quietly, taking the occasional sip while lost in thought. All she wants is to be drunk enough to go to sleep.

She finishes her first drink and orders a second one. While the bartender works on it, Calne hears the elevator make a soft ‘ding’ sound, signaling that someone else has arrived.

Calne turns her head to see who had arrived, but she feels a gentle pink form on her cheeks at the sight of her situationship of sorts, Rongo Swirll.

Rongo was an excellent musician. He was famous for how good he was at playing the drums… and for his unusual accent for a yo-kai.

Despite how conventionally unattractive he was, Calne had fallen head over heels with him after a few steamy nights the two had shared drunkenly together. Deep down, at the sight of him, Calne wonders if they’ll share another night due to their strange, circumstantial meeting at the bar.

Intentionally, Rongo sits down next to Calne at the bar. Nervously, the zombie brushes her hair behind her ear and turns her gaze to Rongo.

“Hello, Rongo.” She says before swallowing thickly, “Strange seeing you here so late. Something keeping you up?” She asks, attempting to make small talk.

“Oh, just the usual. This place is lively on some days. It’s like a party that doesn’t need an invitation to get in. When I hear it loud from on the elevator, I just gotta stop in and see what fun is being had!” The man says as the bartender drops off Calne’s drink, then exchanges a nod with Rongo and goes to make a drink for him.

“Ah. I guess that makes sense.” Calne mumbles as she wraps both of her hands around the glass, her dark colored eyes scanning the amber colored liquid contained inside it. She’s terrible at conversing with anybody, but she’s especially bad at talking to Rongo. Most of the time it’s just intentional lack of communication, but when it comes to Rongo, Calne genuinely struggles. She wishes she wasn’t so awkward with him. She wishes she knew the right thing to say to him at every moment. She wishes she knew what she could say to make him fall for her like she did for him.

“You seem distracted again.” The man says, leaning on his hand while his elbow sits on the black epoxy bar, “Something got your mind in a tangle? Good book? Maybe something that has to do with work?” He asks her with the faintest of frowns.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I’ve just been… not quite in the real world as of lately.” She mumbles softly, “Could be from the lack of sleep because I live in the floor above this rowdy one. Could be from… other things.” She swallows thickly, hoping that her unintentional implication isn’t caught by Rongo.

Thankfully, it isn’t, and the man laughs, “It must be hard being right above a bar that’s as loud as a club all the time. You know, you’re always welcome to come crash on my floor… though, I doubt any sleep will be had if you’re up there either.” He winks at her.

It’s unusual for Rongo to flirt with Calne when he isn’t drunk, so her heart skips a beat.

“You’re such a tease.” Calne mumbles as she takes another sip of her drink, “You’re always running concerts or practicing your drums up there. If I showed up unannounced, you’d have my head on a pike before I could even explain myself.”

“Usually that would be the case, but I wouldn’t do anything like that to you.” Rongo frowns, “I’m allowed any time in your archive even if I’m being loud, and you’re no nuisance to me like I am to you. Why wouldn’t you be allowed on my floor?”

To her own embarrassment, Calne’s face flushes a soft pink at that comment. He doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing to her. She feels so flustered. Terribly flustered. If it wouldn’t cause a scene, she would grab Rongo and kiss him right then and there, but she knows that it would raise a commotion and that it’s more than likely the alcohol talking when it comes to desires like that.

“I… guess that’s a valid point.” Calne whispers.

All of a sudden, Rongo stands up, “Let’s get out of this place, yeah? It’ll be quiet up on my floor right now, so you can get some real rest.”

Calne quickly stands up and nods, her body going rigid in anticipation. She’s excited to even be allowed on Rongo’s floor.

The two of them get into the elevator and once the door closes, the shorter man sits a hand onto the small of Calne’s back. She jolts and peers at him from the corner of her eyes.

“…something wrong?” Rongo asks her with a small frown.

She quickly shakes her head, “Goodness, no, I’m just fine right now.” She says, “Thank you for worrying about me.”

Rongo nods and keeps his hand where it was placed until the two of them arrive at his floor.

The large, golden colored doors slide open and Calne is ushered into the mostly dark room.

In one semi-urgent rush, Calne is shown to a restroom and shoved a small bundle of clothing. The door is then shut and Calne blinks a few times. She looks over the clothing and flushes at the realization that it’s Rongo’s.

Swiftly, she changes out of her sweater and into the ill fitting pair of sweatpants and t-shirt that fits more like a crop top on her. She observes her image in the mirror that’s decorated with small yellow sticky notes with various things written on them. They’re oddly reminiscent of the ones she keeps in the archive for book check out requests. Upon closer inspection, a few of them do contain her handwriting, but why Rongo would keep them when they’re simply scribbles about people needing books is beyond her. That and not all of them are in her handwriting. Some of them are just reminders and others are doodles of humanoid animals. One of them is a cartoon looking sketch of Rongo from Awleyes, another one of the Yo-Kai who reside in the tower.

Calne then steps out of the bathroom and she glances around to see Rongo, who is also in pajamas now. He gestures for her to follow him and she does so, holding the clothing she was just wearing in her arms.

She’s brought into a bedroom decorated with music posters and colored string lights. It’s not at all what she expected from Rongo, especially since he’s a yo-kai that gained a true identity around the human 1900s. It’s extremely modern for someone like him, and it would have thrown Calne off had Rongo not shut the door behind the two of them, taken her clothing from out of her arms, then yanked her onto the soft mattress.

Gently, Rongo nuzzles his head against Calne’s chin. He makes sure to not scrape her with the long horns on his head, his carefulness meaning quite a lot to Calne.

Hesitantly, Calne sits her arms around Rongo and she huffs out a gentle sigh.