Mornings
Kariya and Uzuki
she thought it'd be harder to get him out of bed
"Get UP," Uzuki demanded.
It was way too early in the morning for most people, but Uzuki always got up at the crack of dawn. She wanted to be the first reaper on call today, and she was halfway there. All that was left to do was to get her lump of a partner up and out the door.
He was probably regretting that he gave her the spare key to his apartment if the groggy look he gave her was any indication.
"S' five-thirty," he mumbled, looking up at her from under half-lidded eyes.
"No it's six. And I'm used to an early wake up call." She did a lot of sports back in highschool; most training days took place at a similar hour.
"Well I'm not and I have seniority." He stretched, groaned a little, and turned around, presenting her with a clear view of his boxer-covered rear. "Shop's still closed, hon. Come back 't twelve."
"Twelve?" She frowned, as her mind tabulated a few observations. He didn't use any blankets when he slept? Well, it wasn't like the air-conditioning was on.
"Yeah, tha's noon... Aroun' lunchtime..." His replies, muffled now, were getting slower and slurred.
"I know when twelve is," she huffed, crossing her arms across her chest. "It's just... Don't we have, like, a meeting or something? At ten? Some of the other reapers were talking about it and Tenho said—"
Her chattering was interrupted by a light snore.
It was very difficult to resist the impulse to kick him since he had so obligingly presented her with a perfect target, but somehow she managed. Maybe it was a good thing that she was learning patience around this guy. She recalled getting a lot of penalties for rushing a goal; coach often yelled at her ("PATIENCE, YASHIRO, PATIENCE!") but she'd found it difficult to obey since the woman wasn't a paragon of virtue herself.
Where was her head? She didn't come here at the break of dawn to reminisce!
There were pillows—throw pillows, the kind that probably belonged on the couch–strewn around the small living room. Kariya here had probably crashed the moment he got home. It looked like he'd just dressed down to the barest essentials before collapsing onto the cushions.
She picked up a few of the pillows that were near her, aimed for his head, and with each punctuation she took a shot. At this range, with zero obstacles, accuracy was a breeze.
"WAKE—UP—YOU—BUM!"
His protracted groan was like music to her ears.
"Wh' the hell...!"
"Shut up and get up," she said, unrepentant. "So what if it's six? You sleep too much anyway."
He turned back around and faced her with a contorted expression. Ooh, seems like she struck a nerve. He replied, voice a mild growl: "You don' know that." And suddenly, she was peeved again.
What was that supposed to mean? The wrinkle at the base of her forehead went deeper. On the outset, she had never trusted him. She already suspected that he might be doing spy work for the officers; the laziness could easily be a facade. Maybe his keeping an eye on her, this "partnership", was a scam. A contingency plan. She wasn't blind to the reputation she'd built up for herself during her run through the Game.
Ruthless, some had called her. Hey, it was survival of the fittest, wasn't it? And she'd wanted to survive.
...Or maybe it was simpler. Maybe he went on more missions after they parted ways at the end of a work day. There had to be a reason why he could fill up his quota much faster than she could (and she refused to believe this was due to any form of talent).
Irritated now, she replied, "You think I care? I'm not leaving till you get up." And to emphasize this, she made herself comfortable on the couch armrest.
It didn't take long for him to be swayed. Rather than it getting tighter, however, his expression eased. He probably figured it'd just be easier to go along with her demands, the lazy ass.
"Man, you're pushy." He was sitting upright, rubbing an eye.
"Feel free to break off our partnership then."
"Like hell. I volunteered, 'member?"
Oh how could she forget.
There were plenty of cat calls on that day, plenty of gossip that emerged from it. Koki Kariya, the most notorious slacker on the force, was willingly taking on a job posted up by the brass. And a babysitting job, no less.
He yawned widely and stood up, squinting at the wall clock. "Can't remember the last time I was up this early," he commented. The sleep was out of his eyes in the next look he directed at her. She returned it without flinching. "I think I'll need a hot shower," he said next, like he was measuring his options.
"Ten minutes," she said in a tone that dared him to argue. "I want to get to HQ by seven."
"There's plenty of time," he replied offhandedly, manoeuvring around the low coffee table to get to what was most likely his bedroom. "So much time, in fact, that I think I'll take twenty."
"Ten," she said through gritted teeth.
He opened the door, and she had a brief look of a space of posters—CAT, a Def Marche flyer, a variety of stuff that looked downright crazy— before his lank body blocked her view. "You come and get me then." He smiled, his teeth showing, and somehow it unsettled her. "'Course, can't guarantee I'll be decent if you jus' barge in on me, but if you really want to—"
THUD
The pillow she'd thrown was a second too late; he'd pulled the door to cover his head. Okay, so maybe for a guy who just lay around all the time, his reflexes weren't as bad as she thought. But that was not the point.
He stuck his head through the crack between the door and the frame, and said, still with that infuriating grin: "Fine. Fifteen then."
Instead of replying, she simply glared at him. Where his bloody train of thought was zigzagging towards now, she had no idea. If he was baiting her, then the best way to counter it was to remain silent.
"It's called compromise, hon." Like he'd read her mind. "I'll be done in fifteen minutes flat, scout's honor."
Then a pause.
What, was he waiting for a reply? She looked up and saw that he was looking at her with expectation. As if she really had a say in this situation. What was up with that? Why didn't he just pull rank on her? He'd tried it only moments ago (albeit, half-heartedly, so it was something she could ignore). If he brought seniority into the picture and gave her an order to stay outside his rooms, she would obey. Grumble a little, sure, but obey. She didn't like him, but she believed in the military code.
But as the fates would have it, it seemed like the reverse applied to him. He cared nothing for the code, and she could not even begin to fathom why he seemed to be interested in her.
She rolled her eyes. "Take an extra minute and you're buying me breakfast."
"Deal." The grin turned into a smirk, and then he disappeared into his quarters. "Oh, one more thing—" And he materialized again. "The offer still stands, 'lright?"
Offer?
Again, he must have read the confusion off her frown because the mischief was back in his face. "You said if I take too long—" and he didn't get any further than that.
This time she threw three pillows at him.
All three slammed into the door to the sound of his muffled laughter.
END
