A/N A little silly piece I'm currently writing in a very holiday way. That is, slowly. It goes with a special dedication for Dlbn, because it was her who inspired me to include Mimuro in my story :) Plus, she likes him :)
Disclaimer: I don't own Loveless.
...
They say beginnigs are always hard
...
"Are you giving up on that ridiculous plan anytime soon?", Seimei sounded vaguely amused though his eyebrows were drown together in a frown. A usual expression of his.
Of course, his question was interpreted as mocking and therefore, ignored with as much dignity as one can muster scoffing while drinking coffee.
"Oh, come on, the probability of you winning that stupid lottery is actually smaller than 0,00001", the sacrifice snorted throwing himself on a couch in front of the armchair his sulking fighter was currently occupying, nursing at a take-away coffee.
"Shut up", Nisei growled, ever the eloquent one, "You suck at maths."
"I have to", Seimei smirked kicking off his trainers, "You were the one teaching me."
That finally got a reaction from the fighter. He scowled, giving the other boy a dark glare.
"You must understand that there are cases beyond salvation."
"Well, you said everyone gets probability in the end."
"Well, I was obviously wrong", Nisei returned to his coffee, clearly declaring the subject closed.
Seimei wouldn't have that. He had just escaped from the most boring lecture in the history of boring lectures, claiming that his breakfast must be disagreeing with him. He had even managed to restrain himself when the idiot from the first row had suggested no one could blame the meal for doing that.
"That's beside the point", he said curtly in what he liked to call his practised future-lawyer voice, "I may not be the next Pythagoras…"
A huff.
"… But I have the basic skills."
"Seimei, darling", Nisei cooed batting his eyelashes, "You know how to count the probability of getting a six when throwing a dice."
"I said basic skills", the sacrifice stressed, suddenly quite flushed.
"Besides", Nisei decided to spare him. After all, it was not all that impossible that he sucked at teaching, "That café hasn't sold 10000 coffees in its entire history."
"Exactly!", Seimei crossed his arms now that his point had been expressed, "You hate their coffee."
"I do not", the fighter had mastered the art of pouting better than any spoilt princess.
"Darling", Seimei took his part of delight at imitating Nisei's heavily accented voice, "You hate any coffee that doesn't come in a cup with a green logo or didn't cost half of the regular salary in this country. Or unless it's a concoction with something that no one sensible would have ever put near coffee."
"You drink vanilla cappuccino."
"About twice a month. Forgive me my extravagance. You drink latte with green tea."
"So what?", Nisei fidgeted uncomfortably, "It tastes good, better than all those plain ones."
"Exactly", his sacrifice replied solemnly, eyes twinkling with mirth now that the fighter took the offered bait, "And you're trying to pretend to like a regular latte just because you want to win a trip. Speaking about which", he stretched leisurely, "The sole fact they had to organise that idiotic lottery not to go bankrupt suggests something about their quality."
"They're just not in a good spot", Nisei pointed out, quite happy to have an excuse to stop drinking what was in the cup. It could hardly pass as a latte, "And I see nothing wrong with trying my luck."
"Please, you don't have one", Seimei smirked, daring his fighter to protest. He didn't, as despite his actions he possessed a great deal of inborn honesty, "With your so-called luck you wouldn't win it even if you were their only customer. The winning cup would have been misplaced or ruined by their cat."
"So I'm just *enjoying* their fine merchandise, *hoping* to win the lottery", Nisei hissed giving the currently chuckling sacrifice a look of pure contempt.
"You're torturing yourself for the sake of a weekend trip", Seimei managed to maintain an unwavering tone.
"To a SPA."
"Where you could easily book a whole week without all that drama."
"Where's the fun of it?", Nisei grinned in a way only filthy rich can achieve, "Besides, you're the one making that drama."
Seimei opened his mouth to express his offence but the other continued with a merciless flippancy.
"And I'm going to win two stays."
So he just snorted and reached for a TV magazine in a manner of someone who have just been bribed.
...
"I'm waiting for apologies", Nisei announced striding into the condo.
"Unless you inform me of my supposed misdeeds it may be a fruitless wait", Seimei didn't even pretend to look up from his laptop.
"A simple 'Sorry, I was awfully wrong and unfair to you as I didn't realise the extent of your genius and good fortune, let me make it up to you' will suffice", the radiant smile beaming from the boy's face made the sacrifice consider running in the opposite direction. Whenever Nisei was delighted with something it ended with a (easily-avoidable-as-it-turns-out-when-it's-already-too-late) disaster.
"Facts, Nisei", he tried to sound bored rather than alarmed. He was practising for the times his future clients wouldn't take the hint he's not interested.
"Sure thing", Nisei agreed happily, confirming unpleasant suspicions, "Take this, bastard."
Something small and paper and yellow landed on the keyboard. On the top of it, letters S, P and A were distinguishable.
"Oh my gods!", Seimei jumped up almost pushing the laptop to the floor, "You robbed someone!", he looked at Nisei, eyes widening in panic, "Or worse – you murdered someone and took their tickets! Oh gods, the police will be there any minute, such a black mark on my record, now how will I ever get a job at any chambers, you'll land us in prison-", he suddenly cut his whining short when he noticed Nisei staring at him with his eyes dangerously resembling saucers. Or rather, dinner plates.
Time to feel embarrassed. Seimei coughed, then rolled his eyes to hide how flustered he was.
"I was kidding, obviously", he informed in what he thought was collected tone.
Well, that earned him a dumb blink.
"Oh come on, I was joking. No need to rub it in my face how incompetent a clown I am", Seimei huffed, wishing for the floor to swallow him. It had been meant to be funny.
Finally, Nisei shook his head.
"Stick to grumpy buffoon", he advised, "Craziness doesn't suit you."
"Sure", the sacrifice sneered half-heartedly, "I'll leave it to you."
Apparently Nisei wasn't in an agreeable mood anymore as he crossed his arms and gave him a stern look.
"It's not nice to be accused of murdering someone for a bloody SPA ticket."
"I was *joking*. I thought it's meant to be exaggerated", Seimei matched his glare with his own. "Besides, who knows with you", he whistled returning to his laptop.
"Oh, gracias", the fighter sneered, "Now I feel trusted."
"Remember that the first time I trusted you *was* with a murder."
Nisei didn't even acknowledge it, so Seimei pushed further.
"You still haven't told me how you got around doing it", he pointed out.
"You don't want to know", Nisei growled.
It wasn't the first time they'd had this exchange and so far they hadn't got past this line. Obviously Seimei did want to know (maybe except more gruesome details or any details when we're at it) but he decided to let it go for now. This "now" had been lasting for the last four years. He still felt compelled to ask from time to time to indicate he wouldn't be swayed. Maybe that was the perfect moment to prod deeper.
"Oi, we need to pack", Nisei chirped, already diving into a wardrobe to search for his suitcase.
Or maybe not.
"Just don't take too much."
...
"I told you you're taking too much", Seimei grumbled fighting with the front door. Nisei had already rushed down the stairs leaving his sacrifice in charge of locking their flat and delivering most of their luggage safely downstairs. The little bastard had only taken a wheeled suitcase with him, "Minagami-san worries you're moving out", Minagami-san was their neighbour, an eighty-something-year-old lady whose son was a pilot. That meant she was alone most of the time and had developed a sort of friendship with Nisei – mostly based on books and films, "Apparently", Seimei continued wryly and then let out a curse when the strap of his rucksack got caught in a railing, "You seem to have made a deal with her: that you won't move out until she dies. Well, now that deal just provokes the most tragic outcome if you ask me…"
He was already coming outside when a gasp interrupted his tirade. Involuntarily his eyes wandered to a camera hanging on his neck – a state of the art device he bought with his first salary in the local newspaper. It was so unpractical and expensive he either chose not to notice it or reassure himself it was worth the money.
He thought it was Nisei's way of showing his appreciation until he realised his fighter wasn't waiting for him alone.
Fuck.
At least the blonde still had his ears, too.
"What the hell is *he* doing here?"
Well, fortunately that shriek wasn't his. Not that he didn't wish to repeat it.
"With a rucksack and a bag?"
Now that it was clear the guy was set on making a scene Seimei had no choice but to act sensible.
"Fancy seeing you here, Fearless", he smiled frostily sending Nisei a murderous glare.
He must have been right about pinpointing the culprit as Mimuro also turned to glare at the fighter.
"What is he doing here, Nisei?", the blonde repeated and Nisei had the nerve to look to Seimei for help. He wasn't getting any.
"He's my sacrifice", Nisei opted for the safest version.
"But he's looking as if he's ready for a trip", Mimuro crossed his arms, looking daggers at the other sacrifice.
"Because I am", Seimei gritted out.
"Nisei asked *me* to come", the blonde stalked up to him, Nisei momentarily forgotten.
"Oh, how nice of him", another glare at Nisei who was now beginning to act offended, "However, he'd promised *me* a ticket before he even won them."
"Well, he asked me yesterday so maybe he *changed* his mind", Mimuro smirked, glancing at Nisei for confirmation.
The sacrifices were standing chest to chest, apparently ready for a physical solving of the conflict. Both were still carrying their rucksacks. Seimei was still clutching his bag and swinging the precious camera. Mimuro was waving a shopping bag with a baguette sticking out proudly. He was wearing a baseball cap covering half of his face.
They were adorable. Like little chubby kids on a playground. Nisei almost felt bad about ruining their fun. But he couldn't risk causing a riot in the middle of the street. In any normal neighbourhood two guys fighting would be ignored or maybe cursed at, there some pushing around would end with the police being alarmed by parents who were under impression their children had nothing better to do than looking through the window and copying bad behaviours.
"Guys, look", he began, plastering his sweetest smile on the face, "It's actually quite simple…"
He doubted they could hear him. They were currently exchanging some sophisticated insults.
"I mean", he continued hoping that if he didn't pay them any mind, they'd just stop, "I won three stays, so as you're both my friends…"
Mimuro chose that moment to yank at Seimei's camera, causing the younger sacrifice to double over. Nisei winced and screw his eyes shut – that was extremely stupid. To Seimei self-control was something he had read about and liked to brag he possessed. Before Mimuro could let go of the camera strap, the brunette rammed his head straight into his stomach.
There was a sickening crash of a baguette splitting in half.
Nisei finally worked up the nerve to look up. Both sacrifices had the most idiotic expressions as if not believing what they'd just done. Seimei was absent-mindedly massaging the back of his neck. Mimuro was sitting on the pavement, the remnants of the baguette sticking from underneath his rear.
When the initial surprise died, they resumed glaring at each other.
"Are you two quite done?", the fighter strolled to them angrily, positioning himself between them.
"Nisei", Seimei barked.
"Basta!", the earless boy yelled in his face, "Just what was that? A fucking cock fight? Over what exactly?", he spun around to glare at Mimuro who'd been muttering obscenities all along.
Apparently at some level the Fearless sacrifice *was* afraid of the dark fighter because he obediently shut up.
"Please, guys", Nisei took his chance to speak, "I'm the unstable fighter here, *I* am supposed to start fights. You're to stop me, not go all territorial on me!", he finished in a shout.
"Territorial?", Seimei sounded wounded, then quickly exchanged glances with Mimuro, "Nothing much happened", he shrugged.
"Excuse me?", Nisei cried out, once again whirling around to face him, "Nothing much? Seimei! You had a fight, a *physical* fight in the middle of a street for *no* valid reason! Fuck, as if there were any valid reasons to start fights ever!"
"Come on, kopai, stop screaming", Mimuro attempted to soothe him, "No one was injured", he grinned in a silly way.
Nisei rolled his eyes. He could imagine Seimei showing the blonde thumbs up.
"And I shall feel grateful or relieved?", he sneered, "Oh joy, no one's bleeding to death, so NOTHING HAPPENED!", he waved his hands hopelessly. He was dealing with sacrifices here, what did he expect? "And stop calling me that for fuck's sake!"
Seimei cleared his throat. Then coughed again.
"Right", he said curtly, "I think *that's* attracting attention", he indicated the windows behind them with a short nod. "You may want to turn your voice down, Nisei."
Growing red, the fighter slowly peeked behind him. Yup, some curtains were already opened. The more indiscreet of their neighbours had stuck their heads out. Joys of living in an apartment building.
"So?", Mimuro was picking himself up, "Why is he here?"
Seimei automatically folded his arms.
"Why is *he* here? You told me you wanted me to come!"
"Guys", Nisei sighed, "Don't try to make me feel bad. It's not gonna work. If you'd given me a chance to explain before you went for each other's throats", he gave them both stern looks. They didn't even pretend to be ashamed of themselves now he had been placated. What bastards, "I did ask you to come. Just as I offered a ticket to Mimuro", he pointedly omitted any honorific, "That's because I didn't win a weekend for two."
They were both staring at him expectantly but he only put his chin up.
"Okay", Seimei reminded himself of being the reasonable one there, "So what did you win?", he'd known something's off since the beginning.
For a change, Mimuro glared at him, not Nisei. He seemed to blame him for everything, even an occasion to get a weekend in a SPA for free.
"Afamilyweekend", Nisei mumbled.
Mimuro shrugged and continued glaring. Seimei tilted his head. He had been on a "family weekend" with his parents and Ritsuka once. If he remembered correctly…
"And it differs from other stays how?", he dreaded the answer.
"Oh, not much", Nisei answered a bit too quickly for his liking, "Just some special attractions. Ice cream for desserts, sunbeds in the children zone, a tour to a mini zoo, one smaller meal for a dinner…", that wasn't all but the guys were beginning to look strange, "Claro, we don't have to participate in anything…"
That was when Seimei burst out laughing.
"Nisei, fuck, your bad luck really knows no limits", he managed to gasp out.
The fighter smiled shyly at his sacrifice's reaction. He'd feared Seimei would be furious. Apparently, the cat boy was as unpredictable as he accused him of being. That wasn't really unpleasant. Seimei's laughter had… A nice sound.
Mimuro, on the other hand, didn't seem to find anything joyous about their predicament.
"And we're going to have to do everything surrounded by… Kids?", he clearly found the sole prospect dismaying.
Seimei immediately sobered up. Just what exactly "do everything" conveyed?
"Uhm, only at the meals, and at the swimming pools", Nisei ducked his head apologetically, "Don't worry, we can buy some extra services or whatever they're called…", he added hastily, wishing for it all to end. He just wanted to leave the city already.
"Come on, Fearless", Seimei taunted, "Surely you're used to dealing with kids. Your fighter is what, fourteen?"
"Fifteen", Mimuro growled, "Just as your brother. Oh, you wouldn't know", he smiled sweetly, "He doesn't talk to you."
"I do hope your fighter does talk to you", Seimei feigned genuine concern, making Nisei whine in resignation. What possessed him to take those guys together? "But if not, maybe *that's* the reason for your continuously pitiful performances."
"At least I've never got defeated by my own fighter", Mimuro replied calmly. He knew perfectly well of Soubi's eventual betrayal.
Nisei winced and contemplated just calling a cab. They probably wouldn't notice he's gone.
"As if your fighter could defeat anything", Seimei chuckled, covering his annoyance. Who that idiot thought he was, reminding Seimei of his biggest miscalculation?
"Your fi-"
"Guys!", Nisei jumped between them, "Mei may be a bit inexperienced but I have to remind you *I am* perfectly capable of gagging and restraining the two of you", he showed his canines for good measure, then pinned Mimuro with a special glare, "And you! You may want not to finish that sentence. *I* am his fighter and I may not take getting insulted kindly."
Seimei only rolled his eyes at Nisei's little show and held his hands up defensively. Mimuro bit back any retort coming to his mind. Honestly, they were a little taken aback – Nisei rarely threatened Mimuro and certainly never threatened Seimei.
"Splendid", the fighter smiled cutely, "Now we have everything sorted out we need to move our arses and hurry up, we don't want our bus to leave without us. And we have all those heavy bags with us…", he rattled in his childlike voice Mimuro adored and pouted for a better effect.
Little show-off. Oh, Seimei had nothing against Nisei showing off but a lot against it being done in front of Fearless.
"I told you not to take so much", he smirked, "And catch", he threw a rucksack at him, "That's yours too. I'm not a camel."
"With all those hours you spend in front of the computer you're soon going to have a hump like one", Nisei winked at him good-naturedly and Seimei silently congratulated himself on getting all of his fighter's attention again.
Not for long.
"You told him?", Mimuro spat out, "Told him? Who do you think you are to just tell him to do something?"
Both Seimei and Nisei only blinked at him.
Seimei recovered first.
"His sacrifice?", he coolly arched an eyebrow.
He ignored Nisei bumping his forehead on his back with a groan. He could empathise – usually it was him getting over-frustrated with some idiots. Not that he thought himself an idiot, of course, it was just Fearless being his difficult and annoying self.
"It doesn't mean he can't decide on his own."
"The way he makes his decision is obviously dangerous to him and those around him", Seimei smirked slightly, "People with such problems need supervision, don't you think?"
"I think you're a bastard, Aoyagi", Mimuro sounded disgusted.
Nisei mumbled something into Seimei's shirt and kneed his backside. Maybe he thought so too.
"Oh pleeeeaaase!", he whined, still clutching the material, "Just knock it off. I can't bear it anymore. Can't we just go?", he stomped his leg, made a wild gesture with his hand and strolled to his suitcase. The rucksack already on his back, he grabbed the handle and set off.
For few seconds, the sacrifices watched his struggle with the luggage.
"Let me help", Mimuro shook his head, gently taking the suitcase from Nisei's hand, "The bastard packed a bit too much for you to carry alone."
Nisei looked up at him with surprise but didn't protest at being relieved of the burden.
"Uhm, gracias", he stammered, smiling.
"No problem."
They eyes locked. Nisei flushed.
"Oh for fuck's greatest sake!", Seimei cried out, "This is all his stuff", he grumbled, pointing to the suitcase and the rucksack.
"I'm afraid he's right", Nisei flushed even more, "I may have gone a bit overboard."
Seimei folded his arms, self-satisfied. And he was, until…
"It doesn't matter", Mimuro beamed at (Seimei's!) fighter, "You deserve some pampering, kopai."
"Don't call him that!"
"He's not protesting."
"He already has."
"Uhm… Seimei? It's alright."
Mimuro looked smug.
Seimei saw red.
Nisei just blushed some more.
"By the way, I really am able to carry it", Nisei made the last attempt at taking the suitcase back.
Mimuro only swatted his hand away, very gently, smiling in a manly way. Then, he calmly set off, leaving a still unsure fighter behind.
"Oh for fuck's sake!", Seimei growled, stomping to him, "Just give me that", he wrenched the rucksack from Nisei's arms.
"Pero…", the fighter reached for his luggage.
"Not. A. Word.", Seimei began walking after Mimuro, "Get going."
Nisei continued to watch them, stunned. Then, he jogged after them.
"Guys, guys! What are you doing? My stuff! I can carry it! It's not funny, give it back!"
...
"I can't believe you're taking him", Mimuro huffed re-adjusting his rucksack.
Nisei almost offered to help him but then remembered the stupid scene he'd made with his luggage and stayed silent.
"He's my sacrifice", he said wondering if Seimei could hear them. He was walking somewhere behind them, swaying under the weight of two rucksacks and a bag.
Mimuro snorted.
"… *And* he's my friend", the fighter pursed his lips, "Just like you."
"He's a complete and utter bastard", Mimuro gave him a pitying look, "You're not compelled to take him with you just because he thinks he owns you."
"I don't care what he thinks", Nisei glared angrily, "I know he doesn't own me. Look, I realise you're not exactly bosom buddies but he's not as much of a bastard as he lets others believe…"
"Bosom buddies? Nisei, he hates me!"
"Well, you're not exactly making it easier", the fighter barked out offensively.
"How do you want me to act?", the older boy furiously shook the handle of the suitcase, "He almost made me spit out my stomach!"
"You almost strangled him first! You know he's not the type to just take it."
"You're protecting him", Mimuro pouted but sounded seriously affronted.
"No, I want you to see reason."
"By taking his side? Why am I not surprised, you're always doing everything at his command-"
"Good God, Mimuro!", Nisei grabbed the sacrifice's arm to stop him in his tracks, "Why do you always insist on making it all about my relationship with my sacrifice? I mean it as a human, not as a fighter, if I were him, I'd have punched you too", he grinned but it soon faded as Mimuro didn't seem convinced at all.
"Do you want to know why I did it?", Mimuro was so worked up he there must have been provocation involved. Not that Nisei had any illusions – Seimei could make a toddler go on a killing spree with just one comment.
He almost said no. He really didn't have to deal with their issues.
"Yes, I do", but he was still responsible for his sacrifice. At the rate those two were going, one of them was not going to survive the weekend. They made his and Agatsuma's conflict look like a friendly dispute.
"He mocked me with that Rubber Duck Incident!", Mimuro made it sound scandalous. He really shouldn't blame Nisei for laughing out loud. "You find it funny?"
Nisei tried to control his giggles.
"Oh, come on", he cleared his throat, eyes sparkling with mirth, "Be glad he doesn't know about the My Little Pony Incident."
"Shall I really?", Mimuro scowled, "I wonder to whom I own him knowing about the first one!"
Nisei suddenly found the pavement exciting.
"I may have mentioned it accidentally", he smiled innocently, "But it's still nothing compared to the pony…"
"Shut up, you devil spawn."
"Why, thank you", Nisei snickered, "Don't be so modest. Not every sacrifice has had the pleasure of being trampled by a pink unicorn."
Mimuro let out a roar and flung himself at the fighter. However, he forgot about all the luggage and lost his balance before he hit the mark. That caused Nisei to laugh so hard he got tears running down his cheeks.
"Honestly, I need to ask the brat about this spell."
"Send a rabid pony after your pompous bastard of a sacrifice", Mimuro growled, still red from embarrassment. He prayed Aoyagi hadn't heard anything. As he wasn't making any comments yet or dying of laughter as some other people there, he probably hadn't.
"He's here. Just deal with it if you're truly my friend", Nisei sobered up a bit, "You may hate him all you want, but don't ruin *my* weekend. And your own stay. It's not worth it."
Mimuro nodded, glaring suspiciously at Seimei.
...
"Save a whale". Seriously, "Save a whale". The Fearless arse had a badge saying "Save a whale" on his bag. Fucking activist.
Well, it wasn't news for Seimei. He'd been informed (several times) by Nisei that Mimuro was their School Council President and generally a social butterfly. All those bits of information had been delivered in a suitably crispy tone suggesting how impressive it was compared to Seimei's eremite-like lifestyle. Fearless took part in every demonstration in their district, from raising funds for a shrine renovation to riots of the republican background. He apparently condemned whale hunters, too. He was a part of every club at his and Nisei's college and had already made several attempts at convincing the fighter to get a membership too. However, despite Nisei's unhidden adoration of Mimuro's personality and popularity, the sacrifice couldn't quite overcome Nisei's deep distaste for anything even remotely political.
The fighter's aversion to clubs and organisations didn't hold him back from constantly comparing Seimei's and Mimuro's social standing. Seimei was a law student. All of his schoolmates came from families of several generations of lawyers. They were snobby arrogant self-righteous gits (that's why Seimei had fit in so nicely, despite much less intimidating bank account). They were all fighting for positions in the best-known Tokyo chambers after graduation. They spent their classes arguing their point against each other. They spent their breaks flirting with medicine students, hoping to snatch the most promising, richest ones with the biggest breasts before they graduated and meet some older, well-off surgeons. Their school goal, aside from making their daddies proud, was to reduce their opponents to dust with their oratory skills. They weren't exactly a friendly bunch.
Apparently, IT guys were very friendly. So friendly they could just stay there, touching *his* fighter while ranting at him as if everything was okay with that. How Nisei could tolerate that naïve revolutionary-wannabe was beyond him. All that was missing from the Fearless' CV was shackling himself to some half-dead tree in the middle of a motorway to make a speech about bad treatment of ferrets on ferret farms.
Even his trousers were hideous! And Nisei always complained about people's poor fashion sense. Those jeans were so pathetically old and deformed they could never pass as vintage! His own jeans were this season's model. Not that Seimei paid any mind to such trivialities, mind you.
And they were laughing! Laughing when he was breaking his back with all those fucking bags! Oh, he wondered what they were laughing about: him looking like a mule? Or him being strangled with a camera strap?
The thought of Nisei laughing at him with Fearless with such a twisted devious expression marring his beautiful elfin face left a sour taste in his mouth.
Wait, had he just called Nisei's face beautiful and elfin?
...
The bus. Finally.
Seimei was sure that one more step and his knees would give out.
It was actually quite nice and thoughtful of the café to provide them with a ride too. Not that it changed the fact their coffee was piss and they were a sorry business.
Nisei looked extremely anxious and apologetic when Seimei was depositing their bags in the luggage locker but his sacrifice only brushed him off. So the fighter snorted and went to present their tickets to the driver.
Seimei certainly didn't need Nisei's fake concern. He hadn't seemed to have a bad time with Fearless. They were acting like friends. Well, they probably were friends. He obviously didn't count as one, though. If so, why was Nisei taking him with them? Sense of obligation? Rubbing his affair with the older sacrifice in his face? The sole consolation was the fact the blonde was still a virgin. Were they planning to change that during their stay? In that case, Seimei was going to do anything in his might to make it as difficult as possible for them. Anyway, Nisei was still his fighter. And a friend. Kind of. So he had the right to disapprove of them. He had the right to judge his fighter's choice of partners. This particular one was worse than the worst. He had the right to scare the offender off and send him packing. Besides, Nisei was certainly better off with him.
His resolve firm in place, he got on the bus.
Oh crap.
Only three seats left. Two next to each other and one next to some brown-haired teenage girl.
Of course, Fearless was already making a beeline to the double seats. Cursing him and Nisei, Seimei turned to the only place left. The girl looked up and ogled him with clear appreciation. Then, she licked her lips, pointing to the seat.
Seimei was spinning around to run away from the bus but the driver chose that moment to set off.
...
Comments? Do you enjoy Seimei in distress as much as I do? XD