Roses in Rain
a Weiss Kreuz fanfiction by laila
Part 3 – Lady of the Flowers
"… I know you don't like her but that's no reason not to be civil to her."
"Why isn't it? She hit me."
"You hit me and I still talk to you."
"That's different!"
"No it isn't. And I'm not surprised. You called her a bitch and that's no way to treat a lady, Kenken."
"She is a bitch and don't call me that."
"Shit. No wonder you still haven't gotten yourself a girlfriend…"
"What? She bloody is!"
Youji simply smiled wearily at him, in a way that told Ken his teammate thought he was both exceptionally exasperating and so obviously in the wrong it wasn't even worth arguing the point any more, and wandered off in the general direction of the shop floor, all his attention on Rain, hovering by the counter holding a lilac apron in both hands, as if she wasn't quite sure how it had got there. Well, Ken thought, that made two of them.
Youji, of course, wouldn't have been Youji if he hadn't gently taken the apron from the girl and helped her on with it, tugging her long, straight hair free from the straps and fussing over the way it hung about the girl's neck and waist to a degree even he would have freely and cheerfully admitted excessive. Ken, for his part, was left wondering on exactly what grounds one could claim to have committed justifiable homicide. More to the point, he was beginning to suspect Youji was wasting his time. They'd all seen the way Rain looked at Aya. They'd all seen the way the redhead's normally grim countenance softened slightly but perceptibly when his gaze alighted on the trim figure of the girl.
If Rain liked Aya, Ken had to wonder why in the Hell she was encouraging Youji. It wasn't right to lead the guy on like that, dammit, he'd been hurt enough by the women in his life without this girl showing up with her self-indulgent secret sorrows, her selfish belief that she was the only one who understood what it was to be alone and misunderstood, and making matters worse…
She did not, Ken thought, deserve any of them. She sure as shit didn't deserve Youji.
"When you've quite finished staring into space, Hidaka."
"Sorry, Aya."
It didn't take long for Ken at least to call Rain's presence in the store as a hindrance, and a serious one at that. He could tell from the way some of the girls who haunted the place were watching her as she floated far too serenely about the shop playing at floristry. It was obvious that her presence wasn't exactly what one would have called popular with the clientele.
The crowd of college girls who usually flocked about Youji glowered as the willowy blonde, bent over the table showing the newcomer how to fill out a delivery request, casually rested one arm across Rain's shoulders; Sakura, along with the rest of Aya's admirers, bristled at the way his eyes softened when he spoke to Rain; the perky girls who gravitated toward Omi murmured to one another in atypical restraint when the boy far-too-eagerly fetched Rain four long-stemmed pink roses for the arrangement she was deftly assembling. Shit, Ken thought, you mean she's gonna be bad for business too?
"Who's she?"
"I've never seen her before. I didn't know they were hiring!"
"Is she really going to be working here?"
"D… did Aya-san just smile at her?"
"No way! He can't have! You're imagining it, Sakura!"
"Who does she think she is?"
"Aya-san," Rain said ingenuously, "why do all these girls come here if they're not going to buy anything? It seems silly if you ask me."
Aya looked up at her in surprise and Rain smiled shyly at him, peering out at him from behind her fringe. These girls, she thought – giggling and chattering like this, and hovering round the four young men as if they'd never seen an attractive guy in their lives – really must drive these four to near distraction. Honestly. It was really pretty pathetic if you asked her. It wasn't like any of them were going to get anything out of it… well, maybe from Youji they would, but even then she was sure it wouldn't be anything lasting. As for the others, as for Aya—
"Bet you wouldn't mind if they were boys," Ken said irritably, and accidentally won himself four new admirers. Youji, back in his usual corner, but watching Rain from over the sunglasses that had slipped halfway down his nose, smiled wryly. "Kenken," he said absently, "at least try, okay?"
All that aside, though, there were reasons, and damned good reasons at that, why the Koneko no Sumu Ie did not hire extra staff. What the Hell were they going to tell her about Manx, and the way they'd all vanish off when she arrived? It'd only have to happen twice for Rain to pick up on it as something weird. Three times and she'd be asking awkward questions. Wasn't it obvious that the girl was a walking time bomb? And he hadn't wanted her there in the first place… Ken was damn sure that, when Rain did blow up in their faces, he was not going to be the one to pick up the pieces. This wasn't his idea, goddamnit!
Oh well, Ken thought, shopkeeper's code: when in doubt, smile like an idiot…
That was Sunday.
Monday morning brought with it Rain's announcement that, as of today, she would be attending school with Omi. The announcement was met with no surprise at all from Aya, though Youji aimed a supposedly playful glower with way too much sincerity behind it at his blonde teammate. Ken just looked sour but that, at least, wasn't to be accounted particularly surprising. Ken seemed to be spending ever-increasing amounts of time trying to look exceedingly hard done by, looks his teammates, for the most part, contrived to ignore.
"Jesus," Ken muttered to nobody in particular, "what's she going to be doing as an encore?"
Youji gave him a narrow look. "Don't be stupid, Hidaka."
"Oh, yeah? You wait! Five thousand yen says she's in by Friday!"
"You mean that?" Youji asked. "Because I'll be holding you to it, Kenken."
"Bet ya." Ken said challengingly.
Omi ignored them. He was far too busy looking indecently happy about the idea of spending all day in the company of the beautiful teenager, and he was positively beaming at Rain as he led her through the crowded shop and toward the door – though Ken could hardly help but note the schoolgirl quotient seemed to be dropping. News like Rain, he guessed, spread fast. Also, he appeared to be attracting rather more attention than usual – news like his utter lack of interest in Rain must have spread fast too. Take those twin sisters who usually hung about Youji; they'd been staring at him and when he asked if they were looking for anything they'd blushed and giggled and elbowed one another. God, girls were weird.
Speaking of Rain… Ken glanced dubiously over at the girl. Something wasn't right here. Make that something else wasn't.
The girl was stood by the table next to Omi handing him, in the face of jealous stares from a good half-dozen of the watching girls, a fabric-wrapped box. Long acquaintance with his older sisters' stupid true-love manga told Ken that box no doubt contained some cutely elaborate packed lunch. Probably involved heart-shaped maki rolls. No doubt she'd given Omi's fan club the same idea and tomorrow the poor kid would barely be able to get out the door for girls thrusting bento boxes at him – but that wasn't what was weird.
Rain was dressed in an Imperial purple sleeveless V-neck sweater over a white blouse with short, puffed sleeves edged in the same imperial purple and a purple stripe on the collar, a gray-violet pleated mini-skirt and white loose socks. A light violet bow had been tied about her neck, matching the bow holding back her rebellious raven curls, and on her feet she wore black loafers. Ken had a blue apron on and his hair needed cutting and he really didn't think he got it.
"What are you wearing?" "Oh, this?" Rain asked, gesturing to her outfit. "It's my old school uniform. I don't have the proper one yet."
"Oh of course it's your old school uniform how silly of me. Omi," Ken said tightly, "can I talk to you for a minute? In private?"
And, without waiting for the teenager to reply, he grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and dragged him off into one of the back rooms, leaving Rain blinking and stranded in the middle of the shop floor. Not that she looked forlorn for long, mind; Youji immediately rushed to her side to transfuse her, leaving Aya to glower at him through the fronds of the comically outsize bamboo plant they hadn't quite managed to sell off yet. The exasperated look on the girl's beautiful face as Youji approached, and the bright smile she had granted him when she realized he was watching her, mollified the redhead a little.
Ken glared at her from the stockroom door for a moment or two before turning his attention back to Omi, who was trying to pry his hand from his collar.
"What's this in aid of, Ken-kun?" Omi asked, barely managing to restrain his temper, all the while hoping Ken would get to the point and let him go. He didn't want to have to lose his temper with Ken just in case the older boy didn't actually notice it. Omi didn't do 'angry' well; he normally just ended up looking cute. "We're going to be late…"
"Remind me again what the girls' uniform at your school looks like."
"Ken-kun, does this have—"
"Indulge me, okay? Or you could always imagine that if you don't tell me I don't let go of your shirt."
Omi sighed. Oh, dear. Looked like he'd fallen foul of what Youji always referred to as Ken's Stubborn Bastard streak. "Yellow sweater. White shirt. Blue skirt. Can I go now please."
"One more thing." Ken said, and now his expression was about two parts confusion to one part resentment. "If the girls at your school wear yellow and blue, then why in the holy motherfuck is Rain wearing purple?"
Omi shook his head. He might even have laughed. "Ken-kun, she already told you that's her old uniform."
"Her old uniform." Ken echoed flatly, letting go of Omi's collar. "So she's sticking to that story, is she?"
"Story, Ken-kun?"
"Omi, she doesn't have an old school that we know about!" Ken protested. "We spent all Saturday buying her crap because she didn't have anything of her own and Manx is going to goddamn well kill us for it, remember? Now all of a sudden she's wearing an old school uniform? Bullshit! Something doesn't add up here and I don't like it!"
For a moment Omi said nothing in response. He simply gave Ken what could only have been described as an old-fashioned look, all narrowed eyes and quiet censure. It didn't make him look any less worryingly cute, but something told him Ken understood well enough that he was angry with him. Ken looked away, suddenly uncomfortable. Obviously thinking Rain was anything other than a sweet, innocent little bundle of a creature who deserved nothing but love, approbation and protection was rather infra dig of him.
"There's no need to be like that, Ken-kun." Omi said far too calmly. "I understand you're suspicious, but can't the fact the rest of us are quite happy to trust Rain be good enough for you?"
"It feels wrong." Ken said stubbornly, and even as he said it he realized how lame he had to sound.
"The rest of us," Omi pointed out again, his voice still alarmingly calm, "are quite happy to trust her."
And all that meant to Ken's mind, was that he had three idiot teammates rather than one. "And you're obviously right because there are three of you," he said sarcastically. He felt like any minute he could turn decidedly nasty. "Come on, Omi, I know you're smarter than that!"
"Maybe," Omi suggested somewhat pointedly, "I'd be smart enough for your liking if you'd let me get to class."
Whoops. Looked like Omi had reached the end of his surprisingly lengthy tether. Ken grinned anxiously, letting go of Omi's collar and raising his hands as if to show he had no designs on holding him back – or maybe it was defensively? It wasn't always easy to tell when dealing with teenage assassins, even those as fundamentally even-tempered as Omi. That he'd managed to piss Omi off anyway told Ken he really needed to watch out round the others if he wasn't going to end up getting up close and personal with the business end of Aya's katana. The guy had no life whatsoever aside from waving his goddamn sword about the place and screaming die at the top of his lungs…
Straightening his collar, Omi muttered something Ken was damned grateful to only half-catch before hurrying back out to the shop. Ken, deciding discretion was ever the better part, decided it would be best to stay in the stockroom until the others had left the store, and spend the day coming up with some combination of convincing excuse and heartfelt apology. Not that it would make having to watch Rain smiling coyly up at any or all of his teammates from behind a waterfall of raven curls any—
Waitaminute. Waterfall of raven curls whatthefuck.
"Omi!" Ken yelled at the teenager's retreating back, "Hey, Omi! Her hair was straight yesterday! And she had a fringe!"
Omi simply sighed and wearily shook his head, exchanging a smile and a pointed glance with Rain as they stepped out into the street. He was hardly surprised to discover that Rain was stifling a giggle. Honestly, what was wrong with Ken at the moment? Everyone knew Rain's hair had always been curly.
"I'm sorry about that, Rain-san. Ken-kun's never been very good with newcomers."
Rain blinked, as if that interpretation for Ken's behavior toward her hadn't even occurred to her. "Really? I thought… I thought perhaps it was just me…" Her voice tailed off and her gaze dropped slightly as she spoke, her eyes becoming, momentarily, distant.
"Personal? No, I really don't think it's that. Actually," Omi said, feeling himself start to smile, "for him this is really pretty good. When Aya-kun first started working with us, Ken-kun had punched him before he told him his name. I'm sure he'll be fine just as soon as he's got used to you…"
Omi tailed off, realizing that Rain wasn't smiling. Wasn't, in fact, even looking at him. She had stopped walking and now merely gazed at the street, her head down and her troubled lilac eyes affixed to the cracks in the paving. Obviously this wasn't just about Ken and the way he was treating her. Perhaps it didn't have anything to do with Ken… he felt an almost overwhelming rush of sympathy for this strange young girl. What must it have been like, he wondered, to be so beautiful., yet so scarred? Whatever could have happened to this poor young woman to trouble her so?
Omi couldn't help himself. He hurried back to the young girl and rested his hands gently on her shoulders, smiling warmly as Rain raised her head and gazed up at him in surprise and God, Omi thought with a horrible pang, the haunted look in those dizzying amethyst orbs…
"Rain-san?" Omi asked tentatively, "what's the matter? Please, if there's anything troubling you, you can always tell us…"
"N… no," the girl stammered, an unconvincing smile playing across her shell-pink lips, "it's nothing like that. Nothing's the matter. Please, don't worry about it. Omi-san, we're going to be late…"
And she hurried off, leaving Omi to gaze after her in consternation, a frown playing across his lips and a new resolution creeping into his soul. They would have to get Rain to open out to them, no matter how long it took. There had to be some way they could ease her troubles, some way they could find the person who had so harmed her – but before they could even begin to help Rain, the girl would have to feel she could trust them. With Rain revealing herself as so troubled, so obviously damaged, and with the comfortable lies they had told her about their own harmlessness, Omi could already tell that gaining her trust was going to be no easy task…
But first he was going to have to have another word with Ken.
Every so often, events would conspire Ken to wonder if maybe he'd been better off staying dead after all. Ending up at the wrong end of a .45, for example. Or trying to stare down the kind of kitty cat no sane guy would feel like cuddling armed with a weapon that was well and truly useless on any target stood over an arm's length away. Or the alarming tendency for random detonation half the buildings he ended up in seemed to fall prey to as if he hadn't already heard enough from fire to last him a lifetime and didn't have the horrible disfiguring scars to prove it. Things like that.
And, of course, there was Manx with That Look on her face.
All it would have needed was a wimple and she could have been a nun. Easily. The high heels, the mini-skirts, the head of raging red curls and the positively lethal way with lipstick were all nothing but a front. Put That Look on her face and she wasn't Manx, she was Sister Helena of the Assumption and she was absolutely terrifying.
Youji, of course, was more interested in the legs and the cleavage. Ken would have been grateful for it, would have been glad to see that Youji's playful flirtations with Manx had survived Rain's advent intact when they meant a bit of a break from the young man hovering round the pale brunette as if she were some sublime honeypot and he a love-struck bee, if it hadn't been for That Look. Youji, though, seemed not to have noticed That Look. Neither had he noticed how apprehensive Omi's smile had grown, or the way Ken was hovering a few anxious feet away from the young woman, twisting the hem of his apron between his fingers in a frantic and not entirely successful attempt to hide some of his anxiety. Even Aya was looking somewhat cowed.
"Well, well." Youji was saying playfully, regarding Manx lazily over the top of his sunglasses. "Long time no see, Manx. You're looking beautiful as ever."
For a moment Manx didn't say anything. She glanced briefly over at Rain, who was hovering by one of the worktops and pretending an unconvincing interest in a delivery receipt, a look of obvious dislike stealing into her blue eyes that would have had Ken proposing marriage on the spot if it hadn't been for Manx's marked and unfortunate resemblance to Sister Helena of the Assumption which to Ken's mind was even worse than a potential date reminding him of his mother. "Am I to assume," she asked, in tones that failed to be even remotely teasing, "that I have competition now, Youji?"
For a moment Youji looked stumped, glancing over at the trim figure of the brunette before turning back to Manx. "You know nobody could ever compete with you," he said finally, but none of his teammates could have failed to notice that his voice lacked its customary insouciance, and he shot a troubled glance in Rain's direction even as he spoke.
"I'll take that as a yes, then." Manx said archly, and smiled at the look on Youji's face. "Your actions speak louder than your words ever could. I'm obviously going to have to try harder in future, though I never thought I'd see the day you started chasing schoolgirls…"
Youji looked scandalized. "Hey, she's eighteen!"
Omi spared his older teammate a sympathetic look. Ken tried to stifle a giggle and failed. Miserably. Manx shot him a look that had him falling silent only through sheer bewilderment, then turned on her heel and swept off toward the basement, leaving Ken staring after her in confusion. Why, he wondered, in the world should his laughing about Youji's stupid, irritating infatuation with Rain have made Manx look so thoughtful?
"Ken-kun, are you coming?"
"Huh? Oh… oh, yeah, sure."
Twenty minutes.
Ken had timed it, more or less. Oh, he'd known there was going to be a reckoning for this one, and he'd been absolutely right. Pissed? They didn't have a word for where Manx was at. Pretty much the minute the cellar door had closed behind Ken she'd had that pointed look back on her face and, when she removed three pieces of headed paper from her briefcase and placed them down on the table, he'd known what was coming clearly as if he'd seen the previews.
Twenty minutes with nothing to do but sit there and listen as Manx ripped into them like a starving wolf into a field full of fat, idiotic lambs with broken legs and raw steaks stapled to their faces. It was like nothing so much as being back at school – unless of course one looked at Ken, who still couldn't quite manage to separate Manx from Sister Helena and was wondering how many Hail Marys would get him out of this one. Omi in particular looked a naughty schoolboy being scolded by his teacher. Even Aya's usually stony façade seemed to be cracking in the force of Manx's righteous indignation.
"Women's clothing." Manx was saying in disbelief, for what had to be the two hundredth time. "I wouldn't have thought any of you could have been this foolish, this negligent, this… monumentally misguided! Have you all gone mad? Kritiker gave you this card on the understanding you'd use it on missions and to cover the cost of equipment! And then you four blow the next quarter's budget in one afternoon, and on what? Women's clothing! What the Hell were you thinking? Bombay, I thought you at least would have had rather more common sense than this! Even if I overlook for the moment the fact that you did all this for an unknown element, this is still absolutely— Siberian! Are you listening?"
Ken couldn't keep silent any longer. "But this isn't my fault, Manx!" he replied indignantly, the perfect picture of Innocence Accused, though he didn't quite have the self-restraint to keep himself from giving Aya a rather nasty glare and damn the consequences. "I said we shouldn't do it! I said there was no goddamn way we should be buying girls' clothes on that thing! It's not my fault nobody listened so I sure as shit don't see why I should have to feel guilty!"
At that, Manx gave him another brief, contemplative look. She seemed, almost, to be resisting the temptation to smile. Was it just Ken's imagination, or was the young woman looking just the faintest bit relieved? He told himself he was probably imagining it and went back to staring at his hands. He didn't have particularly interesting hands, though he seemed to be getting calluses on his palms and wasn't that going to look weird if he ever got a proper job…
"It's not exactly like," Manx said wearily, turning back to Omi "this team is exactly going to have money to spare even without the four of you doing something as stupid as this—"
"It's not my fault!" Ken said again, sounding to Manx's ears rather like an anxious schoolboy. "I didn't want to…"
"Yes, yes, all right Siberian. As I was saying, there's a very good reason you four can ill-afford to be short of money at the moment. What with Persia…"
Manx broke off, her eyes growing briefly troubled and she sighed slightly, shaking her head wearily. Whatever it was she was about to say, she obviously wasn't very keen on being the one to say it. What in the world had Persia been thinking? This, she thought, was almost up there with that brilliant idea the man had dreamt up of having assassins working in a stupid flower shop in the first place… not that there was anything to be done about it now, of course. Persia's mind was made up, nothing Birman or herself had said had managed to quit him of it; all she could do was break it and hope like Hell Weiss didn't take it too amiss.
"What with Persia what?" Omi asked in honest confusion.
Manx said nothing for a moment, her gaze flickering back over to Ken. Something told her it was him she was going to have to watch. Something told her she needed to have a word with him, preferably in private… "Persia," she said finally, and there was no trace in her voice of the doubts that had briefly marked her face, "has decided that, as from your next mission, Weiss will become a five-man unit." She paused briefly, adding, as if to remove any lingering doubts in her audience's minds, "You're getting a new member."
Manx had expected silence and silence was very much what she had got. For a moment, the four young men said nothing, did nothing, simply letting the information digest. Hardly surprising; it was pretty hard to swallow. For a moment she did nothing, merely gauging their various reactions – or, in Aya's case, lack of same. Omi, though, looked taken aback, his eyes wide and startled; Youji, previously sprawled lazily out across the couch, was sitting upright, his attention suddenly very much caught, caught and held. As for Ken… she didn't quite know what Ken thought he was doing, but the one thing he didn't look was particularly surprised.
But she had expected Ken to break that silence and in that prediction she was not to be disappointed.
"What!" Ken demanded. "What the Hell? Why do we need a new member?"
Before Ken could finish, Omi had found his voice. "A new member? Are you serious, Manx-san?" "Perfectly serious." Manx replied calmly, glad for the excuse not to have to answer Ken's question, largely because she didn't actually know the answer. "Such is the nature of your next few assignments that Persia feels a little extra help would be of no small value. The agent in question has an intimate knowledge of the target's habits and patterns and Persia feels that extra knowledge may well be the difference between success and failure."
"That's as it may be, Manx," Aya said, "but such an arrangement hardy needs become permanent. I fail to see why it should do any such thing."
"For the same reasons as lay behind your our own addition, Abyssinian. Persia feels a fifth member would allow Weiss to tackle targets more numerous or more dangerous than it is, at present, currently capable of. There are, as I am sure you'll all be aware, limitations to what four men can achieve…"
"Five men isn't exactly an army either, Manx." Youji interjected.
Men? "It's a girl, isn't it." Ken said suddenly, and it was no question at all.
The interruption had Youji giving Ken a rather pointed look, a look Ken either ignored completely or decided to pretend to; he didn't so much as turn. He simply gazed at Manx as if aiming to unnerve her into speech. This, he thought, was not right.. Weiss was the four of them for better or worse and that, as far as Ken was concerned, was the end of it. It wasn't suddenly going to become anything other than that just because Persia, in all his infinite wisdom, decided to import a fifth member, another unknown bloody element as if the last one wasn't trying enough! Weren't teammates supposed to be able to trust one another? He couldn't just start trusting some weird girl (and Ken was convinced it was a girl) he didn't know from Adam – okay, from Eve just because Persia told him to!
"I'll be coming onto that in a minute, Siberian." Manx replied, but that didn't seem to put Ken off.
"Come on, Manx. Male or female?"
Manx capitulated. "The agent in question is female."
(… had to be Rain. It had to be. Well, shit. Shit!)
"Well, well." Youji said languidly, a lazy smile spreading slowly across his face. Ken longed to punch that smile. "You're going to have a young lady work alongside us, Manx?"
"Work," Manx pointed out, "is very much the operative word, Balinese."
It took Aya to drag the conversation back on track. "So, who is this girl?" He demanded. "If we're going to be working with her, the least you can do is tell us who she is."
The woman sighed at the spectacle of Aya's impatience, slipping a buff file from her briefcase and tugging a few sheets of paper free, flipping casually through them and, finally, nodding. "Codename Calico. Eighteen years old. Weapon of choice: butterfly swords. She is a skilled hacker, well-versed in spying and surveillance techniques and an expert at infiltration. Calico has been working as a solo agent for the last six months, but current events and the importance of preventing an agent who possesses such obvious… talents, shall we say, from falling into enemy hands has persuaded Persia that it would be too risky for her to continue working in that capacity. It is vital, Bombay, that your team take every possible step to ensure her continued safety."
"The Hell? Can't she watch her own back?" Ken complained. "It's my fault if I screw up, why's this Calico girl so different?"
Aya frowned. "We're assassins, Manx, not child-minders."
"I hardly think a woman like Calico will need much looking after." Manx replied coolly. "However, Persia has reason to believe that, should Schwarz get wind of her existence, they will stop at nothing to try and get hold of her. She has certain gifts, Abyssinian, which our enemies would seek to exploit. That must not be allowed to happen."
"Gifts?" Omi asked suspiciously. "What kind of gifts?"
"She is tele-empathic." Manx said simply. "Anyway, you will be joining up with her at the target site of your next mission. From there on in, Persia expects you to treat her exactly as you would one another. I trust that makes sense."
Omi nodded gravely, answering for the whole team. Ken realized Youji was looking at him and blinked in surprise when the blonde gave him a wry smile and a small, resigned shrug that really shouldn't have made him blush and did anyway. Why had Youji gone and chosen to distract him now, when he had other things to think about— the word Calico wandered through his mind casual as a cat, searching for something to connect to. Aya's frown hadn't lessened slightly and, as Manx reached for her briefcase, he straightened and took a pace toward her.
"Wait, Manx," he said firmly. "Her name."
Manx straightened. Her grip, Omi noticed, tightened slightly on the papers she held, creasing them slightly. "Is not to be disclosed at present," she said, noting Aya's scowl without pleasure. "Persia was most insistent on the subject. You may, of course, always ask her yourself."
And she turned and left after only the most cursory of farewells, hurrying from the basement. Aya looked as if he was about to follow her, but didn't. Ken, slumped in his seat scowling, didn't appear to be on the verge of going anywhere; even he appeared to be surprised when he muttered a curse he himself couldn't quite catch and scrambled inelegantly to his feet, bolting up the stairs after the young woman.
Calico, huh?
Ken barely even noticed that he bumped into Rain in the middle of the shop, knocking the slender brunette flying when she tried to catch him by the arm, though he would have been irritated by the way she even managed to make falling headlong into a display of cut flowers and landing on her ass in a cascade of carnations look daintily elegant and doubly so should he have seen the way Aya and Youji, following him up the stairs, hurried to her side and vied over who would have the privilege of helping her to her feet (Aya won). Luckily for Ken's gag reflex, he was out the door by that time.
He spotted Manx about halfway down the road; the woman, measuring herself against a buttery sunset that further burnished her already glossy curls, was ostensibly hunting for her car keys in her tiny handbag. She hadn't left yet. Thank you God and I promise I'll start going to church again one of these days even if the confession would likely take a fucking lifetime…
"Calico." Ken said impulsively. "There's no such breed. Am I right?"
Manx raised her head and turned and the sudden, genuine smile on her face damn near floored Ken. "Get in the car, Siberian," she said simply. "I think we need to talk."
