Disclaimer: I don't own Suikoden. This work has not been used for commercial gain.
A/N: Hot whisky and lemon does cure a cold.
Chapter One: Watari
Don't look at her. Don't look at her. Don't look at her.
I say the words over and over again in my head, diligently keeping my eyes on the floor. I notice really odd things: the wood is darker where Joker puked last night because he couldn't hold his drink and the bloodstains from last week's fight (Ace and Duke, I think. Sources tell me it was over that busty alcoholic in the red corset) still haven't gone away. Tsk, tsk. Budehuc has a pretty negligent cleaning staff.
Don't look at her. Don't look at her. Don't look at her.
I mean, it's not like I go to the tavern on a regular basis (it smells). I have a reputation: the grouchy-antisocial-ninja-who-talks-in-monosyllables-or-rather-who-doesn't-talk-at-all. Plus, I can't stand liquor. Not to mention the deplorable lack of self-control exhibited when people get drunk (Shizu, of all people…).
Don't look at her. Don't look at her. Don't look at her.
At this moment, I could kill Luce (slit throat or poison? Haha, just kidding). Why does she have to be so goddamn nice? She came up to me, practically oozing motherly love and goodness and said, 'Do you think you could hop across and fetch me a glass of hot whiskey and a lemon? Lucia's caught something awful, and I'd normally ask Hugo to get it, but…' She shrugged sheepishly, implying he was AWOL.
How could I say no?
It's her way of helping me 'fit in'. And it always involves me having to go to these extremely crowded places, and interact with these friendly, chatty, Karayan people. Today it's Anne. Last week, it was Dominic ('Oh, Sgt. Joe really needs to get his armour fixed, but I'm so busy at the moment…').
Someone ought to break it to her gently: Dominic is not a nice person. He actually threatened to throw a helmet at me because I stayed silent for over five minutes.
I think the meaning of the word antisocial escapes Luce. She thinks I'm shy.
Yeah. Right.
Don't look at her. Don't look at her. Don't look at-
'Watari,' she says.
I'm looking at her.
Damn.
I return her gaze coolly. It's not easy, I tell you. You see, the one thing I've noticed about her (and yes, it's only me. Ninja observance kills) is that her eyes are mismatched. The right one is deep, deep violet, closer to black than purple, but the left one is softer lavender, with azure and gold flecks. Unnerving.
'Ayame,' I reply.
Her eyes gleam sardonically, and I can tell she's smirking behind her mask. 'Didn't expect to see you here.'
'Likewise.' I turn towards Anne, who's studiously polishing glasses and trying (in vain) not to eavesdrop (OMG!!!! The great antisocial Watari is socialising!!!!! Conundrum.) 'Luce needs a glass of hot whisky.'
'What a liar!' roars a drunken Nash (I do not get this guy. At all. He's a spy, isn't he? Why the f--- is he slacking off at the tavern?), who had, until then, gone unnoticed by everyone in the tavern. It's an uncanny ability; I almost envy him (almost: I'm a ninja. I do it better).
'He says it's for Luce, and the last time he had to be carried to his room!' he continues, flashing me a roguish grin that says he approves entirely.
I give him the dirtiest, meanest glare I can manage. He shuts up.
'So, uh, Watari,' Anne says nervously. 'What does Luce need the whisky for?'
Poor thing. She's struggling to make pleasant conversation. She's quivering. Am I really that disconcerting? And here I thought that my new silent-but-friendly-yet-ruthless-assassin-who-don't-worry-won't-kill-you-unless-paid-to image was working…
'Lucia's got a cold,' I mutter.
'Oh,' she squeaks. End of PC.
I take the whisky from her and leave. If I'm lucky, that's all I'll have to see of her today.
.
..
…
Ayame, you idiot. Not Anne.
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..
…
Okay, I guess I should explain. She joined the army yesterday. She wants to kill me. If not for that stupid contract (munny-munny-munny, hee-hee-hee) I would have packed my bags and left Budehuc, the Masked Bishop be damned. Simple, eh?
So why does she have to be the first person I see when I walk into the tavern?!
I'm not afraid of her. It's far more…complicated and…sensitive.
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…
I can't believe she agreed to call a truce…maybe…
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…
Crap. She's following me. And I didn't notice
The back of my neck prickles. Shit. Is she…is she checking me out?! My posterior feels all exposed. I didn't know women did this…I honestly thought it was a guy thing. Okay, a Nash and Mike thing. Now that you mention it, an Ace and Joker and Duke and Edge and Caesar and Juan…okay. It's a guy thing.
Wait. Stop looking at me like that. I'm innocent. I'm…nnngh! Alright! So Anne has big boobs. And I notice. I have hormones. Big deal. Screw you.
…I feel insecure. Shit. I think I'm blushing.
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..
…
Okay, that was…odd.
Apathy. Indifference. Remember who you are.
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..
…
She's still following me.
'What do you want?' I ask finally, exasperated (I'm back to normal. Huzzah. Go me.)
'I've spent the last seven years following you around. It's hard to do anything else.'
I have absolutely nothing to say to that. Is she flirting? God, I need some help…
She laughs, a dry, scratchy sound that, oddly enough, sounds pleasant.
'I'm kidding. But what else do I do here? It's so…sleepy. I can't believe you guys are preparing for war.'
'You want excitement? Go talk to Nadir.'
'I did, actually. That's why I was in the tavern. He offered me a role. Juliet.'
That was a new one. Ayame was going to play Juliet? Who was Romeo? Had they even picked someone out? Maybe it wasn't too late for me to-
Okay, NO. I am not taking part in one of Nadir's plays. Voluntarily (The little match girl. Do I look like a match girl?!).
Shit. Where did that come from?
'Who's Romeo?' I ask casually.
'I think it's that Winger fellow. What's his name? Lance? Lanny?'
'Landis,' I growl. Thankfully, she doesn't notice.
'Yeah, him.'
'So…why don't you go practice?'
'Hmm, maybe I should.'
She turns to leave. I sigh, relieved.
'Oh, and…one last thing,' she says. 'When all this is over…'
'You will kill me.' I spit the words out.
She seems taken aback, almost…sad? Still, she says, 'Yes.'
'Never doubted it.'
'Never should.'
She saunters off (you don't see me checking her out, do you?! Admittedly, she has a nice…wait, what am I saying?), and there's this weird ripping sensation in my abdomen that leaves me feeling empty and slightly nauseous.
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..
…
Well, at least I've identified the cause behind my recent weirdness.
I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in-
SHADDUP!
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Okay, kind of OOC…but come on, he's way more interesting like this. I hope ^^;