'Fleeing' wasn't the right word, but it was the first that came to mind. Spellpunk probably wasn't where Yumiko should have been if getting recognized terrified her so damn much. There was something thrilling about it, though, that was obvious. Her little painted nails pressed hard against her chest through the crinkled dress fabric, to feel her heart hammering.

Terrifying? Exciting? Probably both, when Dellany Whatever-His-Name was, some Ravenclaw sixth year drunk off his arse bit her earring in the middle of dancing and slurred something like: 'Don't I know you somewhere? You seem so familar.'

And then Yumiko stammered something sexy, like 'Haha, maybe, I dunno, let me go I gotta pee,' and squirmed out his arms with the strength of enraged octopus and scampered away to hide in the ladies' toilet. Now, she'd settled for cringing away at a corner table on her third sugared shot of some adorable flavored schnapps -- peppermint, she thought -- just to get her head right. Hopefully Dellany Whatever-His-Name-Was had forgotten about her already.

Hiding in the corner drinking alone! Who'd she think she was, Tae-song Toko? In a few hours she'd be Toko again, awkward shy Toko, but for now she wasn't. Yumiko narrowed her eyes at the empty depths of her shotglass, then stood. She paused to pat down her hair and fix her bao, slick on a fresh layer of cherry lip stain, and adjust her glasses, before sauntering over to the bar.

Yumiko rolled the edge of the shot glass on the polished wood, clacking her black fingernails anxiously for a moment. Then, she lightly tapped the curving shoulder at her right. Had to get her ovaries back somehow, right?

"You should buy me a shot," Yumi suggested sweetly, soft red mouth curling into a cat's smile.

Erin Harper was not particularly known for his social side. Many of his classmates would have been either very surprised or very suspicious to see him here tonight, laughing and twirling girls gently around the dance floor. But, as he had discovered to his delight, clubs like Spellpunk were perfect for him. A bunch of girls he didn't know would approach based on looks alone, and none of them gave a damn about his unpleasant disposition long enough for a dance. Not that Erin was much of a sulker tonight. No, he was enjoying himself very much. He had a crooked little grin and baby blues that kept him in business; it was good practice for the day when he'd have to be charming to a girl in his classes and then keep it up in the hallways and the Great Hall for all the other days, too.

But he'd taken a break from that. He was at the bar drinking something that tasted like its distant ancestors were lemonade and lightning when a dainty finger tapped him on the shoulder. Erin turned to face a smile that would have done Kitty Li proud.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he said after a pause, tone easy, light, and unsuspicious; it was a shame to turn down such a pretty face. "I would if I could."

“Aww.”

Grasping the age old Female Sympathy Noise had come to Toko naturally,  velvet smooth and warm. All of this came far too easy to him, which only surprised him in the slightest. Going through the motions in front of the mirror had felt cozy as slipping on an old perfect shirt – there was nothing awkward in him there, it was like this was what he was supposed to be all along.

What she was.

The slight shift of hips, the bitten lip, the half-hooded eyes – as they say in show business, the girl was a natural. She traced the rim of the shotglass as she spoke, tossing the ragged fall of fringe from her face pretty as you please.

“I wouldn’t have guessed you were just a baby, y’know.” Those dark eyes lingered on the red symbol stamped onto the boy’s hand, and the gaze flowed right on up his arm. There was a confidence to that shameless once over, a kind of thoughtful appraisal she made no effort to hide. Cogs were turning behind those long lashes.

Yumiko flashed him the purple sigil on the back of her hand, smile splitting into a true grin.

“If you’re sorry, baby, toss a girl a few knuts. Special on schnapps, dangerously cheap, the kind of thing to help a girl make bad decisions.”  She laughed lightly, and toasted her empty class to Erin. “One for me and one for you, yeah?” Sugar wasn’t this sweet. There was playful ease in that soft voice, in the sly tilt of Yumi’s eyes behind her glasses.

“I wouldn’t have guessed you were just a baby, y’know.”

"Barely," Erin assured her, and there was a flash of that momentary unease of a teenage boy doubting himself in the presence of a pretty girl in the hasty way he answered. But baby or no, Erin hardly looked it; there was youth in that smooth face, but he was filling out nicely this year and no longer fit that gangely adolescent bill. It was a comfort where the red stamp on his hand was not, and miraculously helpful in procuring dances.

She spoke in a sing-song that meant nothing strange to a boy who'd dated or pursued both the Dark twins at one time or another, and Erin only tilted his blonde head to the side. Notoriously tight-fisted with what little money he had, he was quickly coming to grasp the complex socio-economics policy concerning girls and drink-buying. He only hesitated a moment before sliding the money over the bartop, gesturing for the bartender and turning a dazzling smile on Toko for procuring him a drink.  If it happened to charm her too, that was just a lucky side effect in his opinion.

"That's kind of you." What he wouldn't give to be old enough...

Oh, jeez. Toko liked that smile. Really, really, really liked it. There might have been the slightest of cringes down in his gut – because yeah, getting all flushed for a boy was still...odd for him. Dancing with some grease spot because the guy seemed smitten, or cadging drinks off of dinosaur pervs was a totally one-sided thing. Yumi wasn’t usually suckered in by some pretty boy because…well.

Because it just made him staggeringly aware of  the fact that when it came down to it (to what mattered, a mean little voice said) – under the skirt and the makeup, Yumiko Shirasagi came up short.

Or...over-equipped. However the hell you wanted to phrase it.

There’d be no gropey kissing in the ladies toilet, none of that grinding close dancing on muggle tele, nor scribbling her address on the back the boy’s hand in eyeliner. Nothing at all. Toko didn’t want to disappoint anybody.

But he was thinking way too fast (thinking like a stupid randy boy, even).

Rush of thoughts aside, he fell back into Yumi easy. Yumi flashed another red lipped smile, Yumi dragged her glittery black nails down the back of the boy’s hand and down over his fingers before palming the coins. It clearly didn’t bother Toko that much. Flirting felt damn good. And that’s all this was, right? Totally harmless.

“Kind of me? You’re the one kind enough to get me liquored up, baby. But I guess that has some advantages for you too, yeah?” A melodious little laugh before she handed his money over to the bartender. “As many schnapps shots as that can buy!” Yumi chirruped. “Peppermint and cheap as dirt.”

In a matter of moments, five cold little glasses were lined up before them. In a more straight-laced place, perhaps, the bartender would have turned them down flat. But perhaps Erin’s smile had charmed her after all. Yumi nearly squeaked with joy at bounty of cheap the liquor the knuts had supplied.

“Some bang for your buck, I guess.” She grinned, and raised one of the shot glasses in a toast. “Cheers...ah, hm. Who are you, anyhow? I can’t call you baby forever.”

She ran glittering nails down his hand, and Erin startled a little, blue eyes flicking up to meet Toko's own even as she coaxed the money from between listless fingers. Erin wasn't big on touching, but this place wore that down in no time; he'd been grabbed all night, pulled close or pushed away, had his hand captured and been hugged. By this point in the evening, his recoil instinct was deadened and further destroyed as he pushed himself to socialize and flirt, be charming and easy-going and never ever back down. One girl had even gone to tousle his hair, a little more personal than he was expecting, and raising the hair on the backs of his arms at the teasing touch.

But it hadn't been this shivery drag of nails.

Erin shifted in his chair, smile flickering off briefly and then back on, stronger, warmer, more speculative. "That's right," he said evenly enough, and stole one of the five shots as if he knew exactly what he was doing. This wasn't his first drink tonight - he'd bagged one earlier by this same trick, paying for a girl and letting her hand-stamp speak for the both of them - but the thing had been sickly sweet, violently fruity and syrupy in texture. Not a hint of alcohol, and he'd still only managed half of it before she wanted to dance again, and he'd thanked Merlin and left the fruity monstrosity behind.

Peppermint wasn't much better, but maybe it'd deaden the taste. Despite the way he took the shot, held it up for a toast and said absently, "Erin," as if none of it was of any consequence at all, he was thinking of his complete lack of any drinking experience. This would be his first shot. He planned on taking it the exact same time Toko did to hide his own potentially embarrassing expression, and watched her like a hawk to ensure he wouldn't miss the moment.

They took their respective shots. And lo, Erin's expression was very embarrassing. He made a sound like an aborted cough in the back of his throat, eyes squeezing shut and then opening to blink rat-a-tat-tat betrayal. He gave the glass an extremely distrustful fleeting glance and then slid the next full one over to Toko with the tip of a blunt fingernail, his "Ladies first," only slightly croaked. She'd looked so delighted with the array that she should have no problem taking the next one. And the next one. Five was an uneven number, and he'd planned on letting her have the third shot even before his own... experience.

Yumi’s expression wasn’t any steelier, not a bit. Her face scrunched up, her eyes squinted shut, and the whole thing was topped off by a squeaky sneeze more appropriate for a kitten than a girl. Catching a glimpse of Erin’s face afterwards, though, coaxed a little laugh from her. The buzz swam to her head immediately, laying nice over the booze already in her.

“You doing okay, baby?” A slow smile. “Erin, I mean.”  She laid a hand on his arm, and leaned in a bit closer. She wanted to get a better look at him (strike one), and…honest to goodness, just wanted him to get a strong impression of her perfume (strike two). It was a warm vanilla and a sugared tea leaves sort of affair, no sticky fruit or sick florals here. “You can call me Yumi. Yumiko Shirasagi.”

She plucked up the second shot, toasted it to him, and knocked it back with another wince/full body shudder combo. Yumi burst into another fit of giggles as she wiped the wet from the corners of her eyes.

“You’re a real gentleman, y’know. Positively posh.”

Under the bar, she nudged at his calf with her heel. What could have been written off as an accidental little brush turned into a full on shoe-caress, of sorts. How’s that for earning her ovaries back? Playing footsie with some new blonde thing who’d just bought her a decent drink of liquor. Very good.

Her spindly sparkly fingers were already lingering around the lip of the third shot glass when she leaned in to speak, voice soft and low as it could stand to be in a place of blaring music.

“This is the bit where you ask me to dance.” Peppermint, booze, and cinnamon bubblegum where heavy on her breath. This close, he could probably see the little pink stain of lipstick grazing her front teeth.

"I'm fine," Erin said, perfectly honest. He got a nice strong whiff of her perfume as she leaned closer, but he didn't mind; it was a warm, pleasant scent, more like something a woman would wear than a teenage girl. "Nice to meet you." He tilted his head to the side curiously, consideringly. He didn't mind her hand on his arm, either. "Yumi."

Then she was giggling, and Erin took the opportunity to pick up his second shot. He watched it for a moment, his expression curiously blank, before throwing it back - the quicker, the better - and grimacing a little at the sharp sting in the back of his throat. A real gentleman, and his lips spread into a delighted, skeptical bark of a laugh.

"Right," he laughed as her shoe caressed his calf, "And you're a real lady."

Her breath was heavier than her perfume, sickly sweet from the gum. Erin tried to ignore it, just like he tried to ignore the nagging questions of exactly how much older she was than him (she looked like a little girl in the face, sweet and a little pointy like a fox's, but little girls didn't have stamps on their hands and skirts that short) and how much she'd already had to drink. That wasn't his problem, was it?

To distract himself, he tapped a finger on the counter next to her shot and thought of dancing.

"Drink and we'll be off, then." He gave her that blinding smile again, already propelling himself easily out of his seat. She was close enough already that there was barely room for him to stand up; he put a hand on her arm to steady himself and looked down (and down, and down) into her large dark eyes. Then he slipped past her, in the direction of the dance floor, and his smile didn't so much as falter.

Warmth rushed up to her cheeks when he stood, when he moved. Merlin, he was tall. And Yumi was short. Both of these working together just helped bolster that lovely feeling of being tiny and feminine. She grinned, savoring the words falling from his lips.

“Oh, hey! Wait up!,” she chirruped. Wanting to follow quick as she could, Yumi gunned down the last shot. Hot, minty, delicate burning up her little throat. Three shots over the course of five minutes maybe wasn’t a great idea – to anyone else, anyway. It loosened her up, made her skin feel that much more comfortable. No more thoughts spared for worry and disappointment.

Shotglass abandoned, Yumi hopped down from her chair and skittered away from the pale blue bar light into the dark dance floor. Smooth moving bodies, glinting jewelry, shining fabric. Finding Erin’s body in the blackness filled her belly with warmth, made her skin tingle. Dainty hands touched the hillocks of the boy’s hipbones, her chest pressed flush against his back.

“I’m more of a lady than you know,” Yumi laughed, the sound muffled against the nape of his neck. She liked this music. Muggle-sounding music, all heavy backbeat and lyrics that didn’t matter a bit. That wasn’t important, the throbbing bass was what was important. Yumiko slinked around his body, and leaned back against his chest. She twined her arms around his neck, and rest her head on his shoulder.

Yumi gave Erin a long glance, all big dark eyes and gemmed false lashes. Her painted smile was broad and sweet.

“I’m damn glad I talked you, sweetness..”

She pressed against his back, butterfly slight and her tiny hands clutching at his hips. He liked it, leaned back into her ever-so-slightly, then threw his head back to expose the long pale line of his throat and laughed. "I'm sure," he said, and the answer rumbled through his chest to vibrate against her painted cheek where it pressed against his shoulder blade.

She oozed her way to his front, still flirtatious and coy and close and Merlin Erin really liked this club, it was brilliant. He was coming here every night.  He brushed light fingers over her cheekbone as he smiled at her, slow and easy, in lieu of an answer; yes, Erin was feeling confident about this night. And since she'd taken such liberties with his hipbones, he felt it was only fair to do the same to her, so his hands ghosted down to hover over her lanky hips. Skinny slip of a thing - Asians often were - no real curves to speak of. But Erin was just thrilled to be touching a girl below the waist, so he didn't think too much of it.

Kitty's Outfit

Spellpunk? Well of course, Kitty just had to be there. It'd be rude not to. She'd lied to her parents and said she was staying cooped up in the Slytherin common room when in reality, she'd had this night planned for the past two days. Some of the girls had mentioned it and as usual, Kitty had taken charge, commandeering plans and rearranging everything to fit her preference and schedule. And her minions had accepted this quite willingly. Everyone's least favourite Queen Bee was having a night-out on the tiles.
"Awesome outfit, Kitty," an unknown (and utterly irrelevant) girl squealed as Kitty and her cronies stomped on by, all looking identical and unnervingly groomed.
"Please, tell me something I don't know," she murmured, causing a few members of the gang to exchange a smirk as Kitty rolled her eyes.

Immediately, she hit the dancefloor, rocking hips and bending knees. Kitty's heels were far too high for anything too adventurous, but the tiny Slytherin still managed to maintain that cool arrogance she always held when dominating with a dance routine. She'd pushed all thoughts of Devlin and Fauna to the back of her mind - as far as she was concerned, it no longer concerned her. Kitty was fired up once more, and nobody, not even a sentence in Azkaban could quell her flames of female aggression.

Milling over to get a drink, Kitty raised an eyebrow as a very recognisable (and very admired) figure came into her view. Erin Harper. Only a few weeks previous had the two shared a mutual bout of flirtation in which Kitty had tried her damned hardest to make the boy admit defeat: and it seemed her Slytherin comrade was not alone. He was dancing (more like grinding, how trashy) with some roughed-up imitation of style. She closed her eyes for a second, smirking in amusement before trotting over, taking a deep breath. Placing a hand on Erin's shoulder from behind, she was in full view of his disgusting new arm piece, murmuring quietly in his ear:
"And there's me thinking you had an impeccable taste in women, Harper." She smirked, her eyes meeting his.

Erin’s weight warm and firm at her back, Erin’s rough-awkward paws on her hips, Erin’s face and Erin’s voice and Erin’s smile and...basically Erin’s everything, yeah. These were all good things to Yumi. She leaned back into him with a swivel of her hips, a cat-like arch curving her body like a bow.

God, did she love terribad music like this. Loved peppermint schnapps for loosening up her limbs, loved the bass beat, loved the feel of his hair between her fingers lacing up the nape of Erin’s neck – didn’t know if she loved the girl who’d slinked up next to them, though.

The girl was pretty, pale skin stained all sorts of lovely colors under the flashing lights, smoky eyes – and, in spite of everything, she was starting to suspect she swung in more directions than any single person ever should. Erin was looking kinda sorta gorgeous, yeah, but he wasn’t her boyfriend and she wasn’t even going to hook up with him or anything fun like that (shame, really). 

Something in the back of her head hissed: You know who this bitch is! Don’t roll with it, hex her goddamn ears off! Yumi couldn’t hear what the girl had murmured to Erin, but seeing who the girl was, she knew it couldn’t be anything good. Yumi rolled her eyes to enchanted ceiling, and smooth smile unfurled across her lips.

Kitty Li would have sent Toko running scared. But she wasn’t Toko, not right now. Funny how she had more balls as a girl than as a boy. Kitty could shut up and dance, or creep back into her posh little cave to slick on more eyeliner. Both were fine with Yumi.

She flashed Kitty a grin – at least 87% genuine – and slid one dainty hand away from Erin’s neck, down his shoulder, and laced her fingers in Kitty’s own. The gesture said yeah, I know you’re there. Yeah, grope the blonde all you like. And most importantly no, I don’t give a shit who you are.

Another girl came up behind him, a move Erin was 100% okay with... until that girl spoke. Erk. He turned his head in surprise to meet Kitty's glittering eyes, swallowed hard, and was promptly thrown off his stride.
 
"And here I thought you had impeccable taste in women, Harper."
 
Erin considered this for promptly two milliseconds. There were really only two responses to that sort of comment. Responses of the "Well, since you weren't here...." variety were bound to insult Yumi by implying that she was second-choice. But to defend her (by confidentally assuring Kitty of his "impeccable taste") would only incense the other Slytherin. Damned if he did, damned if he didn't -  Merlin, girls were hard to please.
 
He took cowardly option number three, ignoring her comment about Yumi completely. The most diplomatic of the choices, if one would rather see it that way.
 
"Kitty," he said, as if in surprise. Eying her in profile he lifted his chin, smiled a little - more like a smirk - and tried very hard to hide his sense of doom. False confidence worked well for that. He started dancing again, well aware of the hand slithering over his shoulder to intertwine with Kitty's own. Doom doom doom. "What an honor."
 
("Jealous?" he thought of asking, but that was practically asking for a catfight. And while he certainly didn't mind the idea of two girls fighting over him, he'd prefer it to be when he wasn't in the middle.)
 
Conversational hurdle jumped, now Erin had another dilemma. Normally dancing with two girls would be the highlight of his adolescant life, if not for the fact that one of the girls was Kitty Li. Erin liked her quite a bit, but liking and trusting were two entirely different things. In the current situation, it was somewhat akin to having a snake at his back (pardon the stereotype, but she certainly fit the Slytherin mold). He wasn't sure whether it was him she was after or Yumi; either way, Erin could sense the coming confrontation like some people sensed rain. It seemed inevitable - two teenage girls, their motives incomprehensible - one Kitty, the other apparently up for the challenge - Erin steeled himself for an explosion.
 
And he knew her well enough to know that she'd try to have her fun. He just wished she would find the same sorts of things fun that he did (i.e. the current situation, sans drama) but Kitty's sense of humor had always been much cattier than his.

"Spare me the pleasantries, Harper," she muttered with a smirk, catching his eye with a dangerous glint. Erin was by no means 'her' territory, but one of her boys of admiration; he was free to dance with whatever nerd-dressed loser he wanted to, but she was always going to be above all of them. Always. She pressed her mouth to his ear even closer, her voice so quiet that only Erin could possibly hear; yet her eyes, flicked up at the nobody he was dancing with, Kitty making it quite clear that her comment was about the girl in question. "I could almost take your current choice as a personal insult, but luckily for you, I'm in a good mood." She smirked once again, quite happy to joke with Erin: unless he did something utterly demonic, he would never feel the Li arm of the law.

As she felt the vile beast grip hold of Kitty's own hand, she pulled her paw away, narrowing her eyes in disgust. It was like watching an aristocrat recoil at the touch of a leprosy-ridden commoner. She flicked her eyes towards her group, making sure that they were aware of the situation. Kitty made need back-up at any moment, and, as always, it was waiting in the wings with baited breath.

"I'm sorry, but I don't recognise you," she finally said, a bittersweet smile appearing on her face; she'd been mostly nice so far, and to accuse her façade as being false (which it most certainly was) would seem unnecessarily harsh, even to someone like Kitty Li. "Are you a Hogwarts girl? It's just, I've never seen you before at school, and I pretty much know everyone." Giving another wide grin, Kitty raised a shoulder in condescending nicety; to outsiders, she was being polite, outgoing even, but to the three involved in that situation, she was immediately establishing her authority. If the monarchy wasn't aware of you, then, in Kitty's eyes, existence was futile.

"I'm Kitty, pleasure to meet you," she said, extended a hand to shake; Kitty knew that Erin would be able to see the malice and offensive plan of action well up in her eyes, but to this stranger, she would just seem overtly charming.

The interruption was annoying. Their familiarity didn’t go unnoticed, and she figured Erin was another baby Slythie alongside the likes of Li and Amherst. Curious, that she’d never noticed him before. All the same. If Kitty wanted chat, she would get it. And if she wanted Erin, well…the girl should just piss on his leg and get it over with, Yumi thought, if she wanted to keep other bitches off her boy.

It took every fiber of her being to suppress an eyeroll. Kitty Li had on a veneer of being nice. Toko knew from the first glimpse of teeth and sparkle of lipgloss that it was predatory bullshit, knew that he should run away (preferably now). But Yumi didn’t know this. Yumi never ran away, either, as far as Toko knew.

Yumi laced her fingers around Erin’s wrists, lifted his hands from her hips, and twisted around in his arms until they were chest to chest. She guided his touch down to her waist and pressed his palms against the small of her back, with just a hint of authority given by the graze of her nails. She peered up at Kitty over Erin’s shoulder, and offered her a false sugared smile in return.

“Not a Hogwarts girl, nah. I used to be, though. Gryffindor class of ’08. You can call me Yumi,” she lied gracefully. She snaked her arm around Erin’s waist to take Kitty’s hand with a soft squeeze.

“I take it you two go back, yeah?” Her dark eyes flashed up to Erin, then to Kitty, then back to Erin, fingertip tracing the curve of his collarbone.