Keep Rollin', Rollin', Rollin' (for Letta)

[CyanDimitrik]

The head-bobbing had been discreetly noticed. Bandita thought it was the very cutest thing in the world. Like watching someone very prim and proper discovering ice cream in a wafflecone. Little snapshots like this will be the memories she keeps.

"Oough..," huffs Bandita as she thumbs hurriedly at the screen. The inescapable awareness that she was under not only the scrutinizing eye of a native local but also her date was weighing heavily upon her narrow shoulders. Each passing second, her heart fluttered a little faster. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth as she hurriedly tap-tap'd Spanish input into the screen, ready to deliver an awkward robotic string of Japanese when--

A touch! Bandita freezes all at once with the pressure felt upon her arm, instantly looking to the hand. Then her gaze lifts to the smiling face it belonged to, and the tension eased in Bandita's frame. She watched in awe as the be-hoodie'd aristocrat delivered a fully confident and precise rendition of her order. Instantly, Bandita feels dumb for not being able to recall that off-hand.

Of all the things she's heard relentlessly since coming to Japan, one, two, and three are perhaps the most common. And since when did she forget how to be polite? Oi.

Her internal critique lands only a few seconds before her focus turns fully onto Laxia again, admiring her for her confidence, her poise, how she handles the international barrier with such aplomb. It's a challenge to not swoon, and she fails to wrangle down a dreamy sigh before it escapes.

Then came the rush of Japanese. Bandita didn't flinch. Because of course Laxia has this, right? She's fluent! ...right?

Something feels off.

Bandita uplids her gaze slightly, studying the rouge in Laxia's normally creamy-fair cheeks. The one-word answer to all of that. The halting delivery. Another barrage of Japanese from the eager clerk has Bandita flitting her focus to him briefly, then back to Laxia. That blush is giving her away so badly. But watching her try to maintain her composure in the face of suffering a familiar embarrassment she, herself, held imminent moments before is entirely too adorable for her own good.

When Laxia looks back at Bandita, she'll receive nothing but a sweetly encouraging smile. She's suspicious! Suspicious, but supportive. And this is something she can tease her about later!

With her arm nabbed, Bandita hustles along away from the counter and pockets her phone again. "I was gonna pay," she notes aside to her. "It was my idea, and I asked you out on th'date. And I pinned you, we talked about 'dis~" As she's walking, she tilts aside to nudge her bare shoulder into Laxia's sleeve. "Have you skated before? Do you know how?"

She begins steering them towards a bench near the railing.

[Letta]

By the time Laxia had hurried Bandita far enough away from the counter for the heat in her cheeks to finally begin fading, the luchadora’s words caught her completely off guard. Ah. Right...! In her haste to escape the Japanese interrogation, Laxia had accidentally committed an entirely different social blunder.

“H-hm...? Ah...!”

Her face promptly heated all over again. “S-sorry... You’re right. I wasn’t trying to be rude.” She scratched awkwardly at the side of her head, though the reminder about being pinned earned the slightest twitch of her brow. “And you really don’t have to keep bringing up that pin every five minutes...” But the embarrassment lasted only a moment before that familiar haughty little spark returned to her eyes. “B-but! Our date has only just started, so you’ll have plenty of chances to pay later. Ahem... I fully intend to empty that wallet of yours before the night is over, so consider this a head start~ Haha...” Naturally, Laxia had no idea that the absurdly expensive package she had just agreed to already covered most of whatever they might need. Probably for the best.

Then came Bandita’s next question. Had she ever skated before? “O-of course! You could say I was... born ready. Hehe..” The answer came just a fraction too quickly. Laxia sat down and pulled on the rental skates, tightening the laces with perhaps a little more force than necessary while her eyes constantly flicked toward the rink. Push outward... Glide. Shift weight. Repeat. A child half her height zipped past backward.

...

Simple. There was, however, one other thing bothering her. Laxia still couldn’t understand why anyone would willingly wear skates used by complete strangers. Didn’t people simply... own their own? Still, she kept that thought firmly to herself. She had already been rude once tonight, and there would not be a second time. So she tightened the laces even further. In situations like this, initiative was everything. If she hesitated now, Bandita might realize that her confident little claim had been complete nonsense. Besides, there were children out there skating effortlessly. Actual children. How difficult could it possibly be?

Laxia rose with all the confidence she could muster and flashed Bandita the same smug little smile she had worn moments earlier while demonstrating her flawless textbook Japanese. One eyebrow lifted as if to say... Watch closely. Then she stepped onto the rink. “W-wah...?!?!” Her confidence vanished instantly. The skates did not obey at all. One foot rolled outward while the other scrambled after it. Then both suddenly pulled inward before shooting apart again, leaving Laxia’s long legs opening and closing beneath her with absolutely no dignity whatsoever.

“A-Aah...!”

Only her exceptional balance kept her upright, and unfortunately, that may have been doing her a disservice. She pitched forward. Then backward, then sideways. Her arms windmilled wildly as she somehow corrected herself again and again, transforming the normally poised aristocrat flailing like one of those inflatable figures outside a discount car dealership.

“Waaah...!”

At this point, simply falling over immediately might have been less embarrassing. Unfortunately for Laxia, her balance was far too good to grant her even that mercy. Another violent wobble sent her arms flailing, and this time, one hand shot blindly toward the nearest available lifeline.

[CyanDimitrik]

Bandita takes a seat on the bench, pausing as Laxia speaks to watch her. It's kind've sweet, how the realization that she intended to cover them both today was been forgotten. How it made her squirmy. It's not like any real damage was done, and frankly, it was a relief to her wallet. She doesn't really have date-money yet. Not while she's supporting her family. Not while they're getting their footing.

It isn't that LAW isn't paying her well. It's just that they're paying her a cautious amount while essentially housing her family. That extra cost has to come from somewhere, and that somewhere is Bandita's pay. Which, unfortunately, is directly tied to her ability to win and make herself invaluable to the company as a star. But these are complications she doesn't want anywhere near overshadowing their date. Today is about the two of them. Her and Laxia. The girl with the odd name and big, pretty eyes.

Then she mentions the pin. Laxia isn't outright sulking, but she looks ever-so-slightly annoyed. And Bandita can't help but grin. Her shoulders bunch forward and she leans in a little. "'Cuz it haaaappened~," she drawls cloyingly. "I wrestled you down onto your back. And I pinned you 'dere. And eeeveryone saw it. And 'den we made out."

The Latina leans in closer to playfully nudge her shoulder into Laxia's.

"Of all 'de matches I've had in Japan, 'dat pin was my favorite. 'Cuz it was you. Actually, all 'de times I went for a pin over you was my favorite. And any time you were pinning me was also a favorite." Her head tilts back, lips pursing into a thoughtful little 'o'. Her hand lifts, hooking an index finger to tap on her lip. "I think I mostly jus' really like wrestling with you. Even when it hurts." Beat. "Maybe especially when it hurts."

The look instantly shifts to a coy half-lidded glance through the corners of her eyes, devilish smile edging her lips.

At last, she opts for mercy. Leaning away again, she slips her sleek boots off and inserts her feet into the skates. Immediately, her familiarity might be noticeable. Laces sorted, straps strapped, she tests the weight with each leg by extending them one after the other. When they set down again, there's a gentle to-and-fro rolling of the in-line wheels, and she looks back to Laxia. "Ah! Good! 'Den we can really get going!"

No sooner does she say this and push up to her full height than she spots poor Laxia enter the rink and nearly fumble horrifically. In fact, that is what happens. In a protracted scramble. Each frantic scramble and in-place scamper gets a concerned wince from the Latina. And just as Laxia reaches desperately aside, she'll find Bandita has pitched herself half over the rink's guardrail, bracing upon it with her hips and knees anchor her, while her arms are wrapped around Laxia.

From this precarious position, her face is against her upper-chest, between her near shoulder and breast. Her head tilts to smile up at her.

"Is been a while, hasn't it?," she asks. The tone is affectedly innocent. But something about that sparkling smile and the way she's looking through her lashes at her likely suggest she's teasing her again. "Hold onto 'de rail. I'm gonna get in, and we'll go slow, okay?"

She intends to release Laxia from the hold when she seems stable, but not before delivering an affectionate and discreet rub of her cheek against the shoulder, dolling herself into the fabric of her hoodie.

[Letta]

Desperately, and with what little dignity she could still cling to, Laxia reached out. Unfortunately, panic was a poor companion for grace. One skate betrayed her without warning, sliding out from beneath her as the other shot awkwardly upward. The sudden imbalance sent her body tilting backward, her carefully maintained composure finally surrendering to the unforgiving physics of the rink. No. Not like this...! Not after confidently claiming she was ready. The thought of herself crashing onto the floor in front of Bandita, after all that bravado, was almost more humiliating than the fall itself. But before gravity could deliver its final judgment... Arms caught her. Firm and steady. Certain.

“Oh...!”

The impact never came. Instead, Laxia found herself safely held in place, Bandita’s arms wrapped securely around her waist as the luchadora’s face settled against Laxia’s chest. For a moment, everything stopped. The noise of the rink. The music. The laughter surrounding them. All of it faded behind the simple realization that she had been caught. Saved. And strangely enough, that feeling carried a weight far beyond avoiding embarrassment. Because for perhaps the first time in a long while, Laxia wasn’t standing alone. In a life where expectations had always surrounded her, where every relationship came with obligations and every step was carefully measured, there was someone who simply reached out when she stumbled. Someone on her side. The thought was unfamiliar. And that was exactly why it affected her. Then came another thought. A far more dangerous one. Bandita’s teasing from only moments before. The words Laxia had pretended not to hear.

“...Maybe especially when it hurts...”

Now, with Bandita’s arms still wrapped around her exposed abdomen, with the memory of their match lingering between them- the pins, the grappling, the struggle, the closeness.. the meaning behind those words returned with far too much clarity. Heat rushed to Laxia’s face. But beneath that playful, knowing gaze, Laxia found herself strangely defenseless. Not only had Bandita likely already figured out that this was her first time on skates... but there was a far more dangerous possibility. That she had somehow seen through the feelings Laxia had been desperately trying to hide.

“Y-yeah...”

Laxia carefully looked away, focusing instead on the only explanation she could find. “It’s just... these are completely different from the ones I usually use. Are they supposed to feel like this?” She lifted one of the rental skates slightly, glaring at it as though the equipment itself had personally betrayed her. “Honestly...” A small, frustrated huff escaped her. But when Bandita began explaining what to do, Laxia listened. Like someone determined not to miss a single instruction from the one person she trusted to guide her. “...Alright.”

For once, she simply followed. And when Bandita leaned against her, cheek brushing affectionately against her shoulder like a cat or puppy seeking warmth, Laxia couldn’t stop the small smile that appeared. It was impossible not to. She gently lifted a hand, running it over the back of Bandita’s head. Then, with legs trembling like a newborn deer taking its first steps, she gripped the railing and waited for Bandita’s lead.

[CyanDimitrik]

The feel of Laxia's hand brushing along the back of her head, petting along her silky smooth hair affectionately is quite alien from someone who isn't her mother, father, or grandmother. And yet at the same time, it feels like it has the same warmth. It brings Bandita's gaze to shine up at the ginger, her small and sweet smile fully betraying the adoration she's feeling. So small a gesture, but so meaningful the touch.

She doesn't release Laxia's midsection, keeping her stable as she finds the guardrail. And then afterwards, she leans up a little further to press her lips softly against the other girl's cheek. The kiss is slow - not a peck, she takes the time to linger and brush her button nose against the smooth skin. Only then does she withdraw, cautiously sliding her palms along Laxia's waist gradually just in case she slips. And because she's quite fond of feeling that waist.

Ultimately, Bandita breaks contact with her to step out onto the rink's polished floor. She doesn't roll so much as gracefully glides in a small semi-circle, the tail of her split top ruffling behind her like a fashionably daring cape. She comes to a stop at Laxia's side, one hand resting on the guardrail, the other offered forward to her with the palm upturned. "Gimme your hand," she says. "We'll go slow. Hold onto 'de rail with the other, yes?" She glances quickly to the rail, then back to Laxia's face.

Her eyes speak of confidence and courage, her smile of continuing affection and earnestness. This is another one of those moments that she's going to remember: holding Laxia's hand and teaching her to skate.

"You trust me. Right?"

"Les' just start moving. Get a little movement going by turning one foot a lil' bit to 'de side. 'Den push off from it. Carefully. Gently, see? An' let yourself roll with 'de other foot."

If Laxia starts to roll-creep along the rail, Bandita's feet will begin a subtle dovetail motion. Or perhaps in easier nomenclature, pizza-ing and french fry-inch. The movements create a slow, smooth backwards roll, her focus still on the ginger.

[Letta]

“Phew... I think I’m alright no-... oh...?”

Just as Laxia steadied herself against the rail, Bandita’s lips pressed softly to her cheek. Warm. Gentle. Her sapphire eyes widened before softening almost immediately, a smile finding its way onto her face as Bandita lingered there, button nose brushing playfully against her skin. “I really almost fell just now... haha.” Even as she pulled away, Bandita’s hands remained upon Laxia’s exposed waist, sliding carefully along it as though reluctant to leave her unsupported too quickly. Surely it was only to keep her steady. Surely. Then Bandita stepped onto the rink, and where Laxia had fought for every shred of balance, the luchadora simply glided. A graceful half-turn carried her effortlessly into place beside her, one hand resting on the rail while the other opened invitingly toward Laxia.

Laxia hesitated only briefly before placing her hand in Bandita’s, keeping the other wrapped rather tightly around the railing. She offered an awkward little smile, met in return by Bandita’s reassuring, warmly confident expression. “You trust me. Right?” Rather than answer, Laxia simply nodded. And followed her lead. One foot turned outward. A careful push. Let the other roll. Her first few steps were tentative and uneven, but beneath the uncertainty remained the balance and athletic instinct that had carried her through far more demanding situations. With each repetition, the wobble diminished, her posture loosened, and the skates beneath her began, little by little, to feel less like something determined to betray her and more like an extension of her own movement.

“Oh...!”

She was moving. Actually moving. Still holding Bandita’s hand tightly, Laxia slowly loosened her grip on the rail. Fingers peeled away one by one until, finally, there was nothing supporting her but her own balance.. and Bandita. Beside her, Bandita seemed almost shamelessly at home on wheels, her feet slipping through playful little flourishes as she glided backward, as though making the whole thing look easy on purpose. Laxia watched her, first with concentration, then with something brighter. Delight. The neon shimmered across them in wandering colors. Mirror-ball light scattered over the polished rink while the groovy music thundered around them, filling the entire room with restless life. Hand in hand, eyes meeting across the small space between them, Laxia felt herself learning something unfamiliar beneath Bandita’s guidance, and actually succeeding. Something light and exhilarating rose in her chest before she could contain it.

“Haha...!”

A bright, unguarded laugh escaped her, her fingers tightening instinctively around Bandita’s, not from panic this time, but excitement. And suddenly, it no longer felt like simply skating. With Bandita gliding opposite her, their joined hands linking every turn and adjustment, the two seemed almost to be dancing beneath the shifting neon glow, carried together by the rhythm of the rink. For once, there was no need to know where the next step would take her.

[CyanDimitrik]

"You're a natural."

Bandita's voice is soft, elevated only enough to be heard over the thumpin' tunes of a bygone era.

"But it makes sense. You were so graceful in 'de ring. Even when you were beating me up, I could see it."

Bandita's hand adjusts in Laxia's, bringing her fingers to interlace between the other girl's. She raises her hand and presses palm to palm, furthering the dance metaphor. It's absolutely on purpose. The Latina is feeling it, too.

The laugh was so musical to her ears, so angelically unburdened and free, so natural. It was like the audio form of the smiles and glances she'd stolen from her in their bout. It's unprotected. It's honest. And it sounds so good coming from her, that the girl's expression warms again with her eyes lidding slightly from beneath and her smile brightening.

She very gradually speeds up the pace, no longer weaving her in-line wheels inwards and outwards, but rather, picking up the feet one after another. Now that they're starting to enter a rhythm, she can focus less on maintaining a slow, 'walking' level. She can just focus on rolling with the girl hand-in-hand.

The two slowly follow the curvature of the rink's guardrail, never straying from its supportive surface. Not yet. It isn't time to take her into the deep end. She wants to make sure she's comfortable and confident before adding another metaphorical fruit to her basket. But even now, her mind is drifting back to those moments during the match, between the brutality and pain of wrestling with her, of hurting her, of being hurt by her, to when they must have shared in a sort of inexplicable magnetism. On paper, they make no sense together. But if she were asked, Bandita would gladly report that she's never been happier. Certainly not since her parents passed.

"Here, watch...!"

Hit by the sudden need to show off for her date, Bandita raises their joined hands higher. Her fingers unlace, veritably dancing between her digits as she spins. The balance is adjusted onto a single skate, the whirl swift and controlled, the tail of her top flaring out a little in the motion before their fingers re-lace and the hands lower again.

The display concludes with a happy giggle, her cheeks dusted with color. Then her other hand reaches forward, inviting Laxia to fully connect with her. If taken, she'll pull her in a little closer - gently, carefully to not trip her on her wheels. But if Laxia can maintain her balance and pull in close enough to Bandita, she'll stop lifting her legs to better stabilize herself and shut her eyes, her head tilting to seek Laxia's lips for a soft, rewarding kiss.