a/n: Set about two or more years from canonverse. The history is hazy so try not to be too nit-picky :P
I don't see Sakamoto as an idiot, he's just a fun loving guy who never plays the role of a straight man. But he's going through a little bit of an evolution, which I think is kinda necessary for what I wanted to write. So apologies if people find this OOC. I wrote him with a sister since his historical counterpart had one. But either way, please enjoy this SakaMutsu.
Goddess
-x-
1.
He knows he has it bad when he schedules the weekly ship meetings with all the higher ups, and he always makes sure she's sitting next to him.
He says it's because it's proper that a Captain has his Vice-Captain next to his side. But he knows better.
2.
He's been with other women before. Slept with them, spent time with them, has allowed a few on his ship as playmates, but they're inconsequential to him.
"You see them as disposable pleasures," Mutsu comments, with the usual frown. She disapproves of his lasciviousness.
Sakamoto tries to play it cool, shrugs it off. "Earth women are the best," he says.
"Yeah, I know. I don't care." she replies curtly, rolling her eyes. "Cut it out."
3.
She never smiles. It is universally acknowledged on the ship that one is to gain good luck if they can ever see that ghostly half-smile. Sakamoto has only seen it a handful of times, especially when things are going good. Half of those times are when the Kaientai are in the middle of a celebration.
He knows why she doesn't smile. Tough childhood. He'd bet money that Takachibi and her would have something to talk about. Death threats at the age of fourteen, orphaned in the same year. Managing a slave ship would have killed adults twice her age.
Still, he wants to ask her to loosen up sometimes, to have a bit of fun sometimes. He doesn't because she'll just slap him around, and hell, her punches hurt.
4.
By mistake, he still has keys to her cabin room.
He'd gotten back from the cabaret, tipsy - not drunk.
Mutsu's light is still on at three AM in the evening. Blearily, he peers into the small oval window of the door. She's sleeping in her chair, head rested on a pile of papers.
Because he's not entirely sober, he unlocks her door. Her head doesn't even bobble up sleepily. She's completely tuckered out.
It's the first time he's ever heard her snore, these quiet little puffs of air coming in and out. He'd laugh, if he wasn't so terrified of her waking up and punching the living daylights out of him.
Instead he drapes his coat over her shoulders.
She's beautiful, he thinks. Blinks. His next thought is God, I've had too much to drink.
5.
"Tatsuma!" Gintoki shouts, almost angrily. "D'ya know how dangerous she is?"
"Haaaah?" Sakamoto replies, his sunglasses slightly askew.
"She's a Yato!"
"Whazzat?"
"Oh, god, you didn't know all these years?"
Mutsu neither affirms nor denies this statement, so Sakamoto forgets about this until the next time he visits Earth, where he treats his buddies out to a drinking contest. And now he really grills Gintoki, and his pseudo-daughter Kagura.
"Yup, she's an alien," Gintoki says with a disgusted voice. Kagura bonks him on the head. "Hey!" he cries out, but Kagura is too busy inhaling rice to spare her old man another thought.
"I mean, Mutsu's not against sunlight, she's just not a fan of it," Sakamoto said thoughtfully, taking another swig of his sake.
"Does it matter?" Gintoki asked finally. Shinpachi is patiently waiting for the okonomiyaki to cook, a small spatula in his hand. "When it comes down to it, they all resemble humans in a way. Even if they're dangerous."
6.
Her poison of choice is a Cherry coke and vodka mixed together with plenty of cold ice. Forget sake, now this was really a drink, with its propensity to freeze stress and trouble right in its tracks. She's absorbed a few parts from Tatsuma - one of them is his accent, another is his propensity to dream big, and the last one is his fondness for drink. There is only one day of the entire year where Mutsu permits herself to drink more than a big Thermos of this wonderful concoction, and that's the day of her father's death. She makes sure that she is off-duty and far away from normal civilians. She doesn't need her Yato strength to ruin things for somebody else, whether it be a human or an Amanto.
She used to get away with this for about three years in a row before she noticed Tatsuma following her to somewhere in the countryside - or maybe it'd been a desert, who knows. Surprisingly he doesn't stop her, but she screams out all her angry complaints when she's drunk. He's five hundred meters away and she finds it impossible to muster the effort to go beat the shit out of him. But he can pretty much hear everything she yells about when she's not sober.
Mutsu woke up the fourth year of this strange ritual in her bed onboard the ship. Her Captain is sitting at her desk, doing the paperwork that he hasn't done for months. He usually pushed it off to her, as she'd never quite complained about it.
"How old are you?" he asks once she forces herself to sit up straight.
Her head is aching. "Nineteen," she grumbles.
"Right," Tatsuma said quietly. "I keep forgetting how young you are. There's a Bloody Mary on your nightstand."
Sure enough, the familiar tomato cocktail garnished with a celery stick sits in a glass, perspiring slightly. Mutsu takes a sip.
"If you're going to drink, you might as well make the process painless as possible," he said, still calmly writing. She's very suspicious of this entire setup.
"What do you want?" she enquires rudely and winces. Tatsuma looks up with the benevolent wisdom of a twenty three year old who has pretty much established his entire fortune with the luck of a former slave ship and a passion for the universe.
"For you to stop doing this," he says.
"You go to the cabaret clubs all the time. You tip strippers. You drink," she shoots back. "Who are you to lecture me?"
"I don't do all those morally deranged things because I'm angry at the world," he says, shrugging at her anger. "I do them because it's fun. But you're - you're not drinking because you're enjoying yourself. You're losing yourself because you lost a lot of things, and you haven't recovered just yet."
"What the hell would you know about me," she asks.
"You're an angry drunk," Tatsuma says. His navy blue eyes are serious and intelligent in this rare moment of reflection. "Your father, your mother, the state of your family... You're feeling abandoned. Like no one understands you."
He flips over a page of intergalatical tariffs. "I had a friend like you once. He's in prison now."
7.
Back then, she thought, they'd been young. Too young to think about anything except for what they'd lost and what they'd gained in the aftermath of trauma. He'd lost his parents, too, back when the Kansai Purge happened. He joined the war to take on revenge before he saw too many of his kin and friends die off. Then he'd met her, somebody who owned a ship and knew how to run it. Even if she was absurdly young for such a position, he'd offered a chance. She'd taken it.
But she had looked behind her back, as if she was Lot's wife, tinged by regret and nostalgia. Humans were so awfully different from the beings they called Amanto. More emotional, more spiteful, but extraordinarily kind and compassionate.
Yatos in comparison were more simplistic. They loved to kill. They loved fighting. It was in their blood.
8.
"Why don't you sleep around, Kintoki?" Tatsuma asks out of drunken curiosity during a rather schmaltzy duet. They're sitting in the middle of Yoshiwara's finest inns. There are two beautiful girls sitting across from them, one singing badly while another is strumming a shamisen. Gintoki's gaze is half lidded, as if he was in between boredom and restlessness.
"Because I feel like a piece of shit the morning after," Gintoki replies, downing another cup of alcohol. "You feel like you're garbage for taking advantage of a lady."
"Congratulations," Tatsuma said, nodding in approval. "That just proved you're a decent human being." His words are getting more slurred.
"Plus, you know, I kind of have a woman. So." Gintoki shrugs. "It's better when you're with a person that cares about you, y'know?"
"Well, shit, lucky you." Suddenly he's all sorts of envious.
Gintoki laughs warmly. "You asshole. Don't patronize me - what's it like out in space? I bet you got tons of Amanto chicks out there, huh?"
"I might," Tatsuma keeps thinking about Mutsu. But he laughs loudly just to make this entire conversation as natural as it can be for someone whose head is spinning. "Actually, I've been going celibate for a while."
"No way. How long?"
"Four months."
The silver samurai snickers. "That's not a long time."
"It is for me," Tatsuma insists, almost banging his fist on the table. He drinks down another cup of shochu, sweetly sticky on his lips. "I even gave up all those cabaret clubs."
"Shit, for real?" Now Gintoki doesn't look bored at all. "What happened?"
"I turned thirty last year! Jesus, I'm getting old. What the hell, Kintoki? Where'd all that time go?"
"I dunno," Gintoki says. He calls over the server for some more sweet snacks and alcohol. "I mean, you had a hell of a time, right? You've got money, women, traveled all around the galaxy - honestly, some people would call your life perfect."
"It's not all it's cracked up to be," he retorted.
"Well if you have any money you don't want, throw a brother some paper, yeah?" Gintoki digs into a plate of sticky, syrupy dango. "I'm trying to save up for a wedding ring. I wanna propose to my woman this year."
Now Tatsuma laughs emptily at the irony. He hands over clean bills, neatly wrapped in rubber bands to his old friend right before the two of them head over to Gintoki's apartment, complete with two big flasks of sake to fortify them until the next morning.
9.
"What have I really accomplished?" he asked to himself, quietly, as he got up the next morning, head spinning. Gintoki was lazily sprawled next to him, snoring, with the TV still on at a very low volume. A few empty chip bags were lying next to them. The Yorozuya room was quiet, with only a few rays peeking through the window, making him groan as he shielded his sensitive eyes with his arm.
He laid there silently, mentally going over a laundry list of dead-end relationships and meaningless hookups. A few more years of this, and he could wither away. It didn't mean much, to achieve what he had done so far, if he didn't have someone special to share it with.
10.
"It's cold," she said thickly, eyes blurring with a winter pea coat bundled around her small shoulders. She was in bed with a box of tissues and a cup of tea on her nightstand.
"I turned the heater up," he said, wearing a loose yukata and as usual, his wooden geta that made a clacking sound every time he crossed his legs. "Honestly, Mutsu, it's damned hot in here."
She sniffed, fingers still nimbly and diligently typing on her laptop. "It could be warmer. Don't we have another heating fan on this ship?"
"I'll bring it up once I'm ready to leave," Sakamoto promised. If he was unusually serious, it was because everybody else was on the ship. The cogs of the whole operation - the Kaientai - fully depended on her administration. If Mutsu was sick - for an entire two weeks - it threw off the natural harmony of the company.
"I think you should go to a doctor."
"And I'm telling you I'm fine," she said, waving at him in a dismissive way. "It's just a cold."
"Mutsu, ahahaha - this isn't normal."
"I haven't gotten sick for the last five years," she explained patiently. "It's natural that my body has been building it all up. So it's coming out now, right?"
"I'd believe that if you were getting better," he said quietly.
"I'll be fine," she said. "How's the personal assistant?"
"He's not the same as you," he said, sighing. He crossed his legs, making that clacking sound again. It used to irritate her but now that Mutsu was bedridden, it was a familiar noise. Homey. Tatsuma once told her it was how you could tell the difference between a Japanese merchant and everybody else.
"Does he get the job done?" she enquired, her eyebrow lifted.
"Well, sure, but he doesn't remember to get me a Bloody Mary in the morning. He's not you." Now his fingers were fiddling with his sunglasses; nervous, because in any context outside of Captain and Vice Captain, it might have sounded too romantic for his liking. "Um, Mutsu, I'd rather he'd be replaced soon..."
"Don't worry, you'll get your Bloody Mary once I'm over this stupid cold." She blew her nose into a tissue. It occurred to Sakamoto that any girl he had been with would have never wanted him to see her blowing her nose in such a nonchalant manner. And the thought that followed was not any more encouraging either: How much had he missed by thinking nothing of dating women so casually?
You're putting Mutsu on a pedestal is what the more sensible side of him says. Consequently, he stood up to leave Mutsu, opening his mouth to wish her good health but he really had to go now. Then he catches her eye and saw her biting her lip.
"You're going out already?" she asked. He swallowed. It's a bad time to think that the way her accent is similar to his is endearing.
"Well, I mean..."
"Honestly, nobody ever wants to visit me when I'm sick," she said. Sakamoto tried to decipher her tone of voice, and came to the conclusion that she was half joking but also half serious.
"You want more tea?" he asked. "I was going to get you some more. If you want."
"Oh," she said, and now her expression was more pleasant. "If you don't mind handling my germ-infested mug," she said, offering the ceramic towards him.
"I don't," he said, grinning.
"Don't forget the heating fan either."
"I won't."
Not long after that, he made sure he visited her everyday.
11.
"The doctor said I'm good," Mutsu said, happily snot-free a week later.
"Great," Sakamoto said. "Glad to hear that," he added, but he knew he didn't mean it. Suddenly he had gotten used to playing rounds of UNO after work and fixing her tea with lemon and honey. And sometimes they would work in silence, and he would dress in his thinnest clothes so that he could withstand the high temperatures from the heating fan that she would blast on high in her small room.
It occurred to him that he knew a lot about her, but there were still small things, rudimentary things, that he didn't know. There was a distance between the two of them that he didn't know how to cross. What they had together wasn't even really friendship. It was not the easy type of companionship that he frequently took for granted from Gintoki, nor the natural hierarchy of the crew on his ship. Mutsu was neither a friend or a subordinate, even if her length of association would have indicated otherwise.
An equal, he finally thought to himself after taking a shower. He turned off the faucet, letting his body dry off before he stepped out of the tub.
Normally he didn't think so deep into these things. He used to be more optimistic in his twenties. Oh sure, he was aware of death, and the morbidities that came with the Joui war, but there had been good things too. There was love and brotherhood in the spirit of war. There was death but there was also comradeship, the knowledge that people would die for him, and he for others. Of course it'd been too much for him once he saw it was a losing battle, but he knew that the bonds he had with the soldiers still extended beyond time. The only few who blamed him for deserting were long gone, or off into the deep end. War profiteering was no crime in the eyes of the Bakufu even if he was on the wrong side of the fence.
He came back to her room, knocking softly, now dressed in a pair of trousers and a freshly ironed polo.
"Come in," Mutsu said. She was in bed, but reading the agenda for tomorrow, fingers scrolling down the tablet.
"Hey," he said. "Do you need anything? I can make tea, or whatever."
"The old lady can fetch me whatever I need," she said, her eyebrow raised in suspicion. "What do you want?"
He swallowed. "Nothing," he said. "I was just wondering if you were fine. That's all."
Her eyes softened, her hands setting down the tablet on her lap. "Thanks for keeping me company last week, Tatsuma."
"It's not a big deal," he said. He's treading quietly. Cautiously. "I'm just glad you're better now."
"Thanks," she said, and magically, that ghost of a half-smile appears for two seconds before her mouth turns downward again. His heart is flying at a million miles an hour. "I am too."
12.
"That man likes you, I think."
The old woman - everyone in the Kaientai called her Granny - was in the middle of tailoring her dress for a gala event. The twentieth anniversary of the Universal Human-Amanto trading agreement was inching closer, and Sakamoto had been cordially invited to speak on behalf of Japan.
"Don't be ridiculous," Mutsu said acridly. "It's proper that the Vice-Captain should be a proper representative of our company and body of work. After all, I'm proof that a partnership between humans and Amanto can co-exist together peacefully."
"Of course, dear, but you don't think he picked you for a reason deeper than that?"
"No," Mutsu said stonily. "We are not... whatever you are insinuating we are."
The event is a standard press junket, where some of Edo's most prominent politicians and celebrities will convene on the red carpet. Sakamoto Tatsuma isn't going to be photographed as heavily as others but he's speculated to introduce himself as a war veteran, formerly part of those involved in the last Joui movement. It's a good advantage for humans to pawn him off as one of his own, as a former rebel turned businessman. Mutsu scoffed when she had read the news online, and wondered if Sakamoto had any inkling of the political implications.
"Well, be as it may, I am impressed at how he is cleaning his act up."
"Hm?"
"He stopped drinking heavily half a year ago."
"Oh?"
"You didn't know? I thought everyone knew."
Mutsu shook her head. "I was always busy. But that's excellent; I was wondering why I didn't have to pick him up from the hostess clubs anymore."
The elder clucked her tongue approvingly. "He's becoming a splendid man."
13.
For events such as these, the limousine was scheduled to arrive in the hotel lobby in an hour. Sakamoto was looking over his speech, reciting it in the privacy of his hotel room. Mutsu was getting ready in a room next to his, and vaguely he wondered if she was going to dress up like the rest of everybody else. He could see her walking there her daily standard suit - blue shirt, cape, pants, and combat boots. She didn't give a damn what everybody else thought so long as they paid up, and frankly, he didn't know if she put stock into human traditions such as the one they were about to go to.
Well, she's an Amanto, so there's that. He couldn't believe that it'd taken him so long to notice, but did it matter? He'd written off her eccentricities a while ago, chalking it up to orphanhood and a bad case of stoicism. Besides, he didn't want to be her psychologist. That wasn't his thing.
He stood up, dressed to the nines. A Rolex hung from his left wrist and a designer tie had been expertly picked out for him by a stylist hours ago. His leather shoes were surprisingly comfortable after wearing his usual geta for years. He grinned as he took in his appearance again in the mirror.
"Onee-chan, would ya look at that? Even country boys like me can look real civilized if we want to." His sister would probably be watching the broadcast. Or so he hoped.
His phone buzzed. Mutsu had texted him - "You ready?"
He texted back quickly. "Yeah."
"Meet me in front of the elevator."
14.
She looked imposing but incredibly feminine.
Her hair had been swept to a side wave, her brown locks suddenly glossy rather than rough looking. An elegant body-fitting dress had been tailored to fit her like a sheath. For the occasion, she had worn silvery pumps with straps, her clutch matched to harmonize with the rest of her outfit. To Sakamoto's amazement, he could see that she was wearing a light layer of makeup.
If she was bothered by his gawking, she was good at hiding it. "Did you remember your card key?" she asked, not even bothering to look at him.
"Yep."
"And your notes for the speech?"
"I've got it in my breast pocket."
"Good."
He coughed awkwardly. "You look nice."
The elevator doors dinged. Her heels clicked on the tile floor. She finally turned to face him. "Thanks. So do you."
"They might ask you questions on the red carpet," Sakamoto said mildly.
"So I've been told."
"They might ask you if you have a relationship with me," he said, looking at her intently.
Mutsu scoffed. "Ridiculous. I am simply the Vice Captain of our ship."
"Yes, but... " Sakamoto took a deep breath. "The problem is that you're attractive. People are bound to speculate now that I'm put into the spotlight."
"If I told them I was an Amanto, they certainly wouldn't press on the matter."
"God, no. You don't need to reveal that. I figured there was a reason why you wanted to hide your identity for so long." Sakamoto took a deep breath. "You think it's a bad label, to be associated with the Yato."
"And it's none of your business," she replied to him curtly.
"I don't mind," he said.
"The Yato race is responsible for over seven hundred destroyed planets in the Milky Way galaxy alone," she said, her voice sharper than usual. "Excuse me if I'd prefer people thinking I'm human."
"You can't hide it forever," Sakamoto said reasonably. "Aversion to bright sunlight, huge appetites, abnormal strength? It'll attract attention."
"You didn't pay any attention for years."
"You're right," he said. Now his eyes were somber. "But that's because I was stupid."
The elevator dinged, the doors opening to let them out.
"Don't you understand, Mutsu? I don't care about any of that... But it's who you are, so I accept that," he said.
She still wasn't looking at him. "My father and I worked slave ships," she said. "Try to understand where I'm coming from. You and the crew might understand, but everybody else won't."
15.
"I'm very honored, hahaha, to be presenting as the introductory speaker of this momentous occasion." Sakamoto was beautifully photogenic in front of the TV cameras. "But before that I feel that it is necessary to clarify my position in order to strengthen our ties to the Amanto."
"It has been thirty years since the Amanto entered our planet. As humans would have it, we don't adapt well to change. A series of rebellions, most notably between the samurai and the outsiders, broke out, and we sustained perhaps one of the longest conflicts in the galaxy during this period of time. I, Sakamoto Tatsuma, was an active participant in the Joui wars. I can still remember my time with the famous Shiroyasha. I can recall fighting side by side next to such distinguished warriors such as Takasugi Shinsuke and Katsura Koutarou. Those names used to be legendary years ago. Now, it is a different story."
"It has become clear that the samurai was in the wrong. Perhaps, if we had been more open to change, we might have averted bloodshed. However, the time of what should have been done in the past has passed into irrelevance. I have traveled to many planets, strengthening our trading routes in the wide expanse of the universe. Trading has been the basis for cultural exchange, of forging new connections, of pioneering new industries and to expand on our understanding of the world."
"As my partner and I pioneered the earliest routes for human intergalatic traveling and trading, I still marvel at the state of improvement every time I visit Edo. Our cooperation with the Amanto has proved beneficial in many aspects. Our world is transitioning into an era of modern convenience. For people of my age and obsolescence, it can be hard to adjust."
Sakamoto paused, remembering the hazy days of his countryside childhood. Idly he wondered if kids these days liked catching bugs. Or looked at the stars. The pollution killed everything that once gave him joy.
"I believe it is for the better that we are able to exchange our new standards of life expectancy in return for a changing environment. It is not that I reject bushido at its core, for it has been a part of me since I was a child. It is that I believe we should adapt to the times."
"From now on, I hope that we can continue to cooperate with each other in addition to prolong our history as human beings. Thank you very much."
There was a quiet smattering of applause before it began to evolve into something more grand. The noise grew louder and louder until it was the only thing that Sakamoto could hear, a cacophony of sound and trumpeting approval.
He looked out at the audience, and felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Do you truly forgive me, Gintoki? For deserting the war when I did?
16.
The limousine ride back to their hotel was quiet. Mutsu had been drinking a chilled bottle of water, already settled into her leather seat when Sakamoto slipped inside the car.
"Did anyone ask you questions?"
"Some," she said. She looked at him with an expression that he could not put his finger on. Was it admiration, or was the dim light playing a trick on his eyes?
"Oh yeah?"
"Mostly business-related. Apparently you told the press earlier how stellar I was as your subordinate in the Kaientai. They wondered how well a woman could fare in a rough place like outer space."
"You saw that?"
"I read everything."
"I didn't say anything you wouldn't want me to say."
"I'm not offended," Mutsu said. "Honestly... I'm a little flattered. Shut up," she added, glaring at his sign of hopefulness. "This was one of the few things I've liked written about me."
The car zoomed by, and Sakamoto was beginning to relax. "Do we have any calls tomorrow?"
"Yeah. Business is booming from that speech you gave on national television. Approval rates for Japan are soaring."
"Oh good. I guess I'd better turn in early."
"Why? Don't you want to... " Mutsu began, and then remembered that Sakamoto had stopped drinking a while ago.
"Do what?"
"Nothing," she said.
17.
"You looked nice today," Sakamoto said, as the two went up in the elevator heading to their floor. "The hairdresser did a good job on you."
"It's not a look I'd go for," she replied disdainfully. "These heels are so impractical."
"Still. sometimes change isn't bad."
The elevator doors opened and they walked to their respective doors before Sakamoto stopped dead in his tracks.
Someone had graffitied his door in red spray paint.
TRAITOR
HYPOCRITE
BACKSTABBER
"... What the hell," Mutsu breathed.
"We forgot to hire security. They must have breached the interior of the hotel," Sakamoto said, shaking his head. It had initially made sense, considering one of them held strength beyond human boundaries and another was a seasoned swordsman. But now the sinking realization of the danger he was now in had finally came to a reality.
"But this doesn't make any sense," Mutsu said. "The war ended years ago."
"There are some insurgents left," he replied. He took out his card key before Mutsu stopped him. "Don't go in!" she cried out in alarm.
"What should we do, then? Get another hotel room?"
"God, no." The woman scowled. "Someone who works here has been giving tips to the wrong person. It wouldn't make any sense for you to find another room. You're famous now."
"Then what should I do?" he asked, genuinely concerned. "The spaceship is too far away."
She chewed her lip. "I signed in with a different alias. You can stay in my room. They'd never expect you to stay in the room of a guest next to yours."
He mulled on this for a second before saying, "If you're fine with it."
18.
There was a bottle of champagne cooling in a bucket of ice when Sakamoto stepped out of the shower, clad in a cotton bathrobe and slippers. Mutsu was now dressed in silk pajamas, curled up next in bed with her tablet in tow. Her hair had been brushed down and her makeup washed off.
"You're working?"
She glanced at him balefully. "Of course I am."
"You need to take a break sometimes," he said, sinking into the couch. Mutsu had mercifully picked a suite with two beds instead of one by some happy accident. It was almost two in the morning.
"I'm happier working."
Sakamoto laughed. "Okay. If you say so."
"There's champagne over there if you want," she said, pointing to the table near the door. "I ordered room service while you were in the bathroom."
"Isn't that kind of risky?" he commented. "I mean, you've made it on TV too."
"I told them to leave it at the door. I asked a business contact to feed a loop to all the cameras on this floor before you got out of the shower."
"Paranoid, but appropriate," he said approvingly. "I'm glad I picked you to come with me."
She smiled sardonically. "Yeah, well. Wouldn't want you to pick some washed up C-list celebrity or some waitress in my place."
He was a bit stung by this. "Those days are over."
"Oh yeah? Granny told me you stopped excessive drinking."
"Yeah, I did. And I don't approve of your cynicism."
She put the tablet down. "Excuse me? I'm just stating the facts."
"I know I've inconvenienced you in the past, and I've been nothing more than a pain in the ass to you, but I'm a changed person. I quit all these things because I thought it was important. And now that I've come clean about deserting my comrades on public television, I'm finding it unbelievable that I have to deal with you on top of everything else!"
"What do you mean?"
"You idiot, it's because of you!" He resisted the urge to raise his voice. "I've been trying to shut up about this for months, but I can't do this anymore."
"Wait, Tatsuma - "
"Why do you think I do all these things for? Because I'm a good person? You know better than that. It's because I love you, goddamn it. I didn't quit drinking because it was easy. I didn't quit sleeping around because I wanted to be morally upright. I thought - if there was a chance in hell that you would see me in a better light, you might one day see me as a man. And I don't care if you're an Yato. I don't care if you've got a stick up your ass or god forbid, pragmatic. But don't take me for granted. You can break my bones, but goddamn it, don't take me for the guy you met when you were fourteen."
Her face was pale, eyes colder than the ocean. "That was not my intention," she said, trying to draw herself with the last vestiges of dignity she had left.
"Then act like it!" he shouted. He scrambled to fetch his clothes, before slamming the door behind him.
19.
"Hey there, fella, whatcha wearing sunglasses for this time at night?"
"I have an eye disease," Sakamoto said dully. "Old man, get me two flasks of your strongest sake."
"No can do, fella. I ran out an hour ago."
The samurai glared at the bartender. "Any other alcohol, then?"
"Sure; I got shochu and happochu."
"Shochu, then."
20.
Mutsu poured herself a glass of the champagne. The bubbles tasted bitter. Maybe it was a good thing Sakamoto made her quit drinking when she was in her teens, whatever that meant. She poured the rest of her glass down the sink.
"Idiot," she said.
21.
"You know, out of all the women I had to fall for, it was my subordinate."
"Tough," the owner said sympathetically. "What's the problem?"
"She'll never fall in love with me," he said bitterly. "I'm just an idiot and a playboy and drunkard to her."
"Aww, well I'm sure if she's a good person she'll see there's more to you than that."
"It's been over a year. How long can I keep doing this?"
22.
Fifty meters away, she tracked him down with an electronic spotter. Sakamoto was very prone to wandering around, and so she had inserted a chip in all his shoes in case he went missing. It saved time and energy on all fronts. A company like the Kaientai couldn't exactly function without their best negotiators.
This time, however, she hesitated.
There was nothing she could say that would change his mind, was there?
Her hesitation was ill timed, though, and Sakamoto was walking out of the bar. He saw her faster than her ability to form escape plans. His only disguise was his sunglasses, perched on his nose. The rest of his clothes were rumpled, and him wearing the slippers from her hotel bathroom only added to make the situation more comic than it really was.
"Tatsuma!"
He turned in the opposite direction, intent on escaping from her now. She swallowed and jogged up to keep up with him.
"Don't follow me," he said to her. "I'm very drunk and I want time to think."
"You do stupid things when you're drunk!" she shot back at him. "We need to get back to the hotel. You have work to do tomorrow."
"Since when did you care?" he said. "I just got my heart broken, you're the one stepping on it, and now you're telling me I have work to do tomorrow?"
"Shut up and listen to me, okay?" Mutsu was near tears now. "I'm scared."
That made him stop walking. "Scared? What the hell do you have to be scared of? You're a Yato. You could walk and terrify people if you wanted to."
"But that's what I'm afraid of! I'm scared of losing you!" she cried out. "Don't you understand? I'm not good to be with. I'm bad at making friends, I can't smile like normal people, I work because I'm not good for anything else! I can't express my emotions like normal human beings! If we were to be together, that's riskier than us just being friends!"
Now tears were rolling down her cheeks. "It was easier for me to see you with all these other girls than me."
Sakamoto took a deep sigh.
"If I didn't think it was worth the chance, why do you think you'd been on my ship all these years?"
"I don't know. I just thought you needed someone to get started. A good subordinate."
"I did. But I also needed a friend."
She turned her head away. "I was a kid back then."
"But we're not kids anymore, don't you think?"
23.
They sat on a bench.
"Did you mean it?" Mutsu asked. "What you said, that is."
"What, that I love you?"
"Yeah."
"It's not something I wanted to say in that situation, but yeah."
"Oh. Okay."
"Hey, Mutsu."
"Yeah?"
"Promise me you won't hurt me tonight, okay? I've already been hurt inside already, ahahahaha."
"Okay."
And then he folded his sunglasses, tucked them into his pocket, and kissed her on the mouth.
24.
She woke up in bed, Sakamoto's arm snaking around her slim waist, peacefully snoring in his alcohol-soaked slumber. The champagne bottle was half empty, the ice melted into water by now.
The clock was two hours later than the proper time for her to be waking up. She blinked at it blearily before deciding to go back to sleep.
After all, she had what she wanted now. Time could wait for her.
25.
They stood at the helm of their ship at sunset. For a moment Mutsu took off her hat, and Sakamoto could see the sun rays hitting her hair in a way that illuminated her complexion.
"Am I your first?" he asked.
"Funnily enough, yes," she said. "I'm hard to deal with, you know."
"So am I. I laugh too much, I'm generally annoying, and I bother all my friends."
"Not all of them."
He had to smile at that.
-x-
the end
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