[Uma Musume: Pretty Derby fan fiction]
All grown up, just as Mejiro McQueen thought things would settle into something stable, Tokai Teio brought up changes neither of them expected, with long-reaching consequences.
It wasn't any particular day, but that night, for some reason, Vodka came home drunk.
That was rare. Vodka did have a penchant for the bottle, but usually, she kept her drinking to two cans at most, and she always did so at home. Always. Scarlet had lost count of how many times she had to clean up after Vodka's mess after she drank, but Vodka had never, ever, drunk outside.
With one exception—when Vodka was promoted to regional sales manager, her division and old boss decided to hold a celebration. It was the first and only time Vodka had drunk outside, and even then, she came home with her wits by her. Tipsy, maybe, and her face was flushed to hell and back, but she wasn't drunk. In fact, it was a very rare moment when she outright showed consideration for Scarlet by apologizing first thing for smelling like alcohol and tobacco, before heading directly to bath.
Scarlet, of course, had actually prepared the bath since Vodka texted her that she was coming home. Vodka had told her about the celebration, so Scarlet knew she'd be home late and prepared for at least as much. It was really how their entire dynamic was, ever since they shared a dorm in Tracen: they would tell each other when something was up, so the other could prepare. Oftentimes, it was just to prepare for a sudden outburst of emotions (usually pent-up anger because of the intensity of their own rivalry), but sometimes, it was finding out what to do when the other was in the dumps.
When the two of them finally graduated, Vodka actually took her shot and told Scarlet that she was so used to them sharing a room that she couldn't imagine a life without Scarlet. Her face was beet red and she was stammering all the way through her sentences, but for some reason, Scarlet felt that it would be wrong for her to make fun of Vodka at that moment. Vodka wasn't being embarrassed. She was being vulnerable to Scarlet because she trusted her, and it must've taken Vodka all the courage she could muster just to tell Scarlet what she just did.
The least Scarlet could do was pay that trust back.
Somehow, it evolved into a conversation about continuing their cohabitation, and it had been that way ever since.
There were a few marked differences to when they were dormmates. The first, and foremost, was that they no longer shared a room. Their savings, given by their family, and later their own salaries, were enough to afford a studio apartment with two bedrooms. Scarlet chose that arrangement personally, and so vehemently, until Vodka agreed to it: the first thing Scarlet wanted to avoid was them fighting over the way they arranged their own rooms, which happened almost every day back in Tracen. Scarlet knew that trust alone wasn't enough—to live together, there had to be compromises, and consistent fights could snowball into other issues in the future. She'd had enough issues with Vodka, as was evident in their daily banters, so she definitely didn't need any more.
The second was that thanks to a lot of initial effort between the two, they had actually spent so much less time going at each other's throats compared to their school days. The sense of rivalry was still there and thick, but above it all, Scarlet finally realized that she did genuinely care about Vodka, and Vodka about her. When Scarlet decided to quit her old company two years ago, Vodka was really the only pillar of stability left in her life until she found her new job, and Vodka acted accordingly. She wasn't being demanding, she wasn't being prickly, and all she had to offer was support. She knew that if Scarlet failed to find a new job, their current lifestyle would fall apart—but she covered for Scarlet no less.
Vodka might be bad with words, and she was absolutely clueless when it came to showering praises and compliments, but she always showed her feelings through her actions. And Scarlet had never felt so secure in her helplessness before.
It was why she kept taking notes of every little thing Vodka did. Scarlet knew where Vodka stored her accessories. She knew what brands of makeup Vodka used, and where she got them from. She knew that Vodka would click the ends of her chopsticks twice before she took her first portion of nabe. She knew the brands of all of Vodka's motorbike shelf models. She even knew the types and makes of those motorbikes, though granted it was against her will. Scarlet wanted to know everything about Vodka, so should it be her turn to be in trouble, Scarlet could help cover for her.
However, when Vodka came home drunk that night, Scarlet couldn't keep her thoughts from spiking high into anxiety mode right away. Did I do something wrong? She didn't tell me she'd be out drinking. Was she mad about something? Did something go wrong at work? What happened? Why did she drink outside?
Why didn't she tell me?
Vodka's colleague—a junior assistant, if Scarlet remembered correctly—quickly excused herself after taking Vodka home while profusely apologizing for failing to notice when Vodka had become so drunk.
"It's alright, no one could've stopped her," Scarlet said as she took Vodka over. "Thank you for bringing her home."
"Yes ma'am!" the assistant said before leaving. Scarlet couldn't help but wonder how she had stayed sober while Vodka was sloshed beyond control. Did she maybe feel bad about drinking with her seniors? Did someone ask her to keep herself sober in case the drinking party went wrong?
"Come on, you," Scarlet muttered as she carried Vodka inside. "Ugh, you're heavy."
It seemed to stir Vodka somewhat. "Scaaaaarleeeettt…?" Vodka mumbled.
"I'm here. Gosh, you reek!"
"I'm sowwyyyy…."
Scarlet dragged Vodka to her room, which she'd cleaned up, and started helping her change her clothes. "What for?"
"Bbeing maaadd…," Vodka thought for a bit, "at evvverythinng…."
Scarlet thought that she was probably referring to their daily banters, which had continued on since they were in school, because as far as she was concerned, Vodka really never got genuinely mad about anything during the years they'd lived together. Scarlet sighed as she folded Vodka's clothes. "I know you don't mean it, don't worry."
"Yer so pwettyyyyyy…."
Scarlet nearly dropped Vodka's clothes in her hands. "Huh?"
"Ddunno howta say thiss … but I weally wuv youu…."
Scarlet's knees felt weak. That came out of nowhere. On the other hand, she knew that without the alcohol, Vodka would probably never have had the courage to say it all to her face—she was frank about her opinions, but rarely about her feelings.
She took a deep breath. Vodka would probably forget all about this tomorrow, anyway, so what's the harm?
"I love you too, dummy," Scarlet whispered to Vodka's ears. Then she left to wash Vodka's laundry.
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She still had no idea why Vodka drank herself to death like this, but she supposed it could wait until tomorrow.
