Klutz
November 26th, 2010 10:15 pm
"Finally!" Neirah closed her eyes and threw her hands in the air with an excited cheer. "It's been so long since we visited! I wonder what Ōta-san is going to make for us today?" Her mind raced with the possibilities, but as the chilly winter air rushed around her between buildings, she had a craving for warm soup. When she opened her eyes, she lowered her arms and dusted her fingers against the graffiti decorating the structure next to her, tracing the bright explosion of colour.
But Jūrō wouldn't let vagrant hoodlums desecrate the building for his cornerstone tattoo parlour. The tribal twist of flames and rose vines skillfully decorated the partition between rice bowls with Jūrō's level of skill, because he made the paintings with his own hands. With how the street side adorned the splash of creativity, someone might think that the building was home to a romantic, spicy ramen restaurant. The truth was that Jūrō didn't sell his cooking on the side. He reserved that particular talent for his dearest friends.
A rumbling laugh joined Neirah's choir from where Rikio was lengthening his stride to catch up with the woman. "He knows we're comin'," he teased. "Surely, it'll be katsudon."
Neirah dropped her hand limply by her hip. She turned to face Rikio from where she approached the corner that would lead them to the entrance of their friend's business that also doubled as Jūrō's home. "Ah, but I wanted tonkotsu ramen," she whined with a delicate pout. "Remember last time when we had katsukarē?"
After watching Neirah wipe her mouth on her jacket cuff like she might have been drooling, Rikio's laugh escalated until it filled the night around them. "Well, if he knows we're coming, he'll definitely make chashu."
"And way too much," she sang. "As usual."
When Rikio looked down at her beaming expression, his darkened as if she'd just insulted his very existence. "Too much for who?"
"You're right." Neirah's cheeks flooded with warmth as she patted her grumbling tummy. "I suppose it's fine because Ri-chan will eat anything that I can't, right?"
"And don't you forget it!"
An excited squeal caught behind her lips, making it sound like she was a boiled kettle with the way she whistled her anticipation. "I'm starving! Let's gooo!"
Even cautiously, Rikio reached out to her with a fond grin on his face. "Nē-chan, don't rush ahead." When she stopped to pout, he sniggered and tugged her back to his side by the collar of her jacket. "You know better. Ōta-san still spends a lot of time with the Yakuza, and some of them might recognize us if we're not careful." After releasing her, his expression humbled with kind consideration. "Kusanagi-san doesn't even like that we come around here, but he's sort of right. It wouldn't be very nice of us to cause trouble for our friend with all he does for us."
Neirah's sigh was full of surrender when she considered his sound advice. "My past always comes back to haunt me," she mewled submissively. "Why can't I just be a normal schoolgirl?" Her gentle coo sounded to the feeling of Rikio's warm palm on the top of her head, and she tilted so she could raise her eyes to his.
"Because if you were a normal schoolgirl, you'd have much better things to do than hang around with me."
Neirah's smile grew wavy with affection. "On second thought, I think normal is overrated..."
Suddenly, an affronted grunt interrupted Rikio's warm smile, and he laid out his palm, turning to look into the sky that had just begun to spit on them. "Rain? Hey, that's cold!"
Neirah winced like the icy droplet to fall on her next caused her pain. "How rude. We were having a moment." Despite her irritable tone, Neirah returned her grin towards her friend to beg his invitation. "Can we rush now?"
Ah… Rikio gave her a reassuring nod, encouraging their pace to quicken with the steady increase in rainfall. "I'll be right behind you."
At the command of his assurance, they picked up their pace to a light jog, and sure enough, Rikio kept close to Neirah's heels. Though, it became entirely inconvenient when she rounded the corner and ground to a sudden stop. Rikio immediately hollowed his centre, his arms to either side of him to support his balance as he attempted to dodge her roadblock. "Nē-chan? Why'd you stop all of a sudden-"
It didn't take him long to understand why she'd been staggered when he peeked the intensity of her expression, and when he turned to face the road ahead, his heart stalled his breaths. "W-wait-!? What the hell happened here?!"
Neirah lurched forward, mortified ferocity tightening her face as she rushed to Jūrō's storefront to the sight of the metal sheet he lowered at closing peeled back like it was paper. As observed on the walls and smeared against the floor beneath the shoes of Jūrō's attacker, a dusting of blood stained the linoleum. "Ōta-san!" Neirah's worried screech echoed in the street when she stared through the doorway, catching the sight of their motionless companion bloodied on the floor in the dim streetlight.
"Neirah, stay back," Rikio commanded. He laid his arm firmly across her chest like a toll gate until she bounced off his restriction. "You'll cut yourself."
"Rikio, if anyone can navigate broken glass and jagged sheet metal, it's the tiny dancer!" she passionately refuted.
"No!" She wasn't wrong, so Rikio had to adjust his story in attempts to keep his friend from harm. If Jūrō's attacker were still in the building, it would be easier to keep Neirah safe if he stood between the monster and the maiden. The last thing he wanted to see was Neirah caught in a dark constricted corner, especially because she was still a little claustrophobic at times. He turned his kind eyes towards her frantic worry, desperation in his stern expression as he begged her cooperation. "If whatever did this is still around, you'll have a better chance of fighting them if you can use your chain."
Neirah seemed reluctant, at first, as wide eyes locked with his insistence, but she had to appreciate her friend's reliability. When she acted eccentric, he managed to keep her somewhat rooted. Sometimes reality skewed, and it was hard to keep track of, but Rikio was a tender reminder that they weren't invincible. She couldn't just burn through life like she once thought.
Once Neirah had yielded, Rikio rushed through the opening, careful not to slice himself on the sharp metal edges of the decimated sheet. "Oh man, this is bad." He dropped to Jūrō's side and checked his pulse in the dim parlour, delighting in the feeling of a gentle beat beneath his fingertips. "Hah?! He's still breathing!" After wrapping his arms around Jūrō's mass, Rikio heaved the man onto his front, relieving Neirah outside when Jūrō began to hack for breath. "Ōta-san, hey. It's me, Kamamoto."
Neirah startled outside to the sound of Jūrō's bitter hiss.
"Ahh, you kids are late," Jūrō rumbled through a haggard cough. "The pork's getting cold, y' know."
Rikio flinched, continuing to support the bloody man beginning to sputter to life in his arms. "How can you talk about pork looking like this!?"
"That comin' from you?" Jūrō let out a rumbling belly-laugh. "I'm disappointed, boy."
After huffing a sigh of relief in the doorway, Neirah let a worried smile warm her expression. Jūrō's size and sheer resilience were how he'd managed to keep in tight with many local gangs without feeling threatened, which was what made him such a reliable informant. All the lonely man ever asked in return was for someone to pop by and share a meal with him now and then.
Neirah vaguely heard Rikio begin to interrogate their friend in hopes of figuring out who managed to wound him, but when she opened her eyes next, she was answering his questions. With a curious twist, Neirah's incredulous leer followed the bloody footprints out of the storefront, and up the metal siding of the building. Her livid scowl intensified again at the top when she caught the sight of a shadow moving swiftly among the rooftops, and her blood began to boil.
Rikio let out a startled bark the moment the opening at the front of the store combusted in a sudden burst of flame, and his first instinct was to tighten his defence around Jūrō's broken body. "Eh?! Neirah! What's wrong?!"
"Stay with Ōta-san!" she commanded through bared teeth. "I think I found the person responsible for this!"
Rikio freed one hand to reach for her, but he was careful not to drop his friend onto the hard floor. "Just wait! I'll come with you!" But before he could finish his reassuring proclamation, she was gone.
"Foolish girl," Jūrō choked out through a mild smirk. "The noodles're gonna get soggy."
"Ōta-san, please be serious!"
Neirah's vision focussed on a damp night around her, watching her brilliance reflect in the puddles forming beneath her feet. She swiftly climbed into the rooftops, her eyes locked on the lean shadow weaving on top of the structures. 'It must be a Strain,' she thought upon withdrawing her chain from her hips. She began to boil the links, rushing tactlessly towards the escaping spectre. 'I don't know of many Yakuza members who are capable of walking up walls!'
When she was within range of the retreating shape, her eyes flashed with the ferocity of her king's flame, and she launched her kunai towards the shadowy target. "Hey now," she hollered fervently. "Why don't you stay for dinner?!"
Once her ignited links neared the body, the ringing of steel was far from satisfying. She watched her chain coil, tangling up in a withdrawn sabre to neutralize her approach. From behind the light of her flames flirting with a royal surge of cobalt, navy eyes scrutinized her impatiently with a dull lustre beneath saturated raven bangs.
Tsk. With a firm jerk, Saruhiko tore the cable through the surprised woman's fingers and dismissed the bulky mass by his side to free up his sword. "As awful as that sounds, some of us are working." He raked tense fingers through the part in his hair to keep it tidy even as the rain worked to contradict his efforts. It was clear that Neirah didn't care. She let the deluge drag her wild mop into her face. So long as her eyes didn't obstruct, she was content. It was typical for the likes of her.
"Fushimi-san?" Neirah took a step forward, skeptical as she straightened to regain some sense of civility. "What are you doing out here?"
"Isn't it obvious?" It frustrated him when she didn't answer, staring vacantly at him like she wasn't aware that there was a dangerous Strain on the loose. He turned away from her inquiry and irritably sheathed his sword. The memories she was surfacing made his teeth mill, and his heart race. What he wanted to know was whether or not she was doing it on purpose. He found it hard to tell sometimes. "You idiot, didn't you hear me the first time? I said I'm working."
Neirah's gaze sharpened impatiently. "So then, what attacked Ōta-san must be a Strain."
"Where did you leave your friend?" he instigated dryly. "It's unusual to see you here without him attached to your hip."
Neirah's nose wiggled as her humid breath fogged her face in the cold air tearing through the rooftops. Surely he wasn't talking about Tatara. She didn't spend every waking hour with the man. "Kamamoto-kun is back at the shop with Ōta-san," she assured him strictly. "I told him to stay there while I hunted down the attacker."
"And I suppose that's where he'll stay," Saruhiko theorized through his exasperation. "Like a good dog."
"My you're unusually wound tonight," she sassed. "It couldn't be because you're working alone. Maybe it's because this Strain is giving you the slip?" She sardonically smiled when he threw his head to one side with a bitter hiss. "I might not mind being of assistance if you ask me nicely."
"Keep dreaming."
Neirah's heart fluttered with fond memories as she closed her eyes and hummed her delight. "Ah, and my dreams are so much sweeter with you in them, Fushimi-san."
"If you're done-"
"Oh, I'm just getting started."
Neirah's startled shriek was shrill when a sudden shadow approached their conversation, scattering them to either side when a dismantled crane shaft crashed into the rooftop where they'd conversed moments prior. With a nervous whine, Neirah tumbled forward, springing off her fingertips and dropping back onto her feet at a safe distance. Before raising her voice to grate on her colleague's nerves, she scanned the area to make sure he was safe. Luckily, his senses were just as sharp as hers, and he had fled to higher ground.
"What the hell?" Saruhiko lowered his arm from his face, scrutinizing the mess made of the building's ventilation system beneath the severed construction equipment. "It just came out of nowhere."
Neirah threw her head over her shoulder just in time to catch the sight of an additional phantom scampering between structures. She had seen something similar in the world of Strains, but the last time large pieces of construction equipment were being tossed her way, it was because Tomaya was throwing a tantrum. "There you are…" She powered off her mark, clattering across the damp rooftop until she could dip and reclaim her chained kunai from where Saruhiko had disarmed her. After drawing the mass across the floor with a musical rattle, she coiled the shackles in the air and returned them to their proper place in preparation for combat. "You're not getting away."
"Don't get involved," Saruhiko thundered from where he rushed by her side. "This is SCEPTRE4's job."
Neirah didn't even cast him a glance as they raced each other on top of the wet ceiling. "I'm not stopping you from doing your job," she ordered. "If you want to chase after him too, then be my guest."
"You don't have the authority to prosecute him."
Neirah's wild eyes brightened, crimson sparks making her reflective sapphire gaze flash indigo. "I'm not going to prosecute him," she admonished. "I'm going to bleed him dry for what he did to my friend!"
Saruhiko's lethal glower tapered as she pulled ahead, her garnet aura surging from her delicate frame as she splashed through the puddles forming at their feet. His teeth ground as his fingers wrung the life from the hilt of his sword that he unsheathed with a delicate ring. "You sound just like him!"
Neirah was the first one to hone in on their combined target, her flaming chain reflecting on the glassy surface of his terrified eyes as she twirled it. "Stop running!" she hollered irately. Just as her weapon darted for his exposed skin, he let out a worrisome holler and covered his head. She was about to be satisfied with the feeling of her encroaching victory, but that was when her hot links clumsily disobeyed her command, opposing their intended trajectory and slicing through a radio tower instead. Neirah gasped and retracted her disobedient cobra, leaping out from under the shadow of her approaching misstep.
She sighed her relief, overseeing the collapse of the grate her chain sliced through like warm butter. There was a doubtful crease in her furrowed brow, but she didn't have any other way to explain the accident. "Oops, that was clumsy."
Saruhiko avoided her jolt of attention as he pulled ahead, his disenchanted leer locking on his prey. "This is why you should leave these things to the professionals." He crossed his chest with his free arm, dropping his sword to his side as he ripped his armed knuckles through the night to send his darts sailing towards their target. Again, their young enemy startled meekly and threw his arm out like he was going to stop Saruhiko's glowing azure knives with his palm.
The moment Saruhiko prepared to collect his wounded target, another crash echoed in the space between them. He hissed when the projectiles struck an unexpected roadblock in the form of collapsing satellite supports, leaving the free darts to rattle in the dish neutralizing their threat. He snapped his attention towards Neirah's advance, bitterly barking his agitated command. "Would you stay out of this! This doesn't concern you!" It infuriated him that she was so intent on getting in his way.
Before passing the collapsed mounts, Neirah leapt into the upturned dome and slipped into the centre, gliding with the curve like she was banking in a wave barrel. She touched the floor of the large dish and scooped up his knives on passing. To escape the bowl, she then leapt into an aerial somersault and pitched two of them his way, to which he skillfully received one in each hand. By the time her heels thumped against the ground to give chase, she had twirled and launched his last blade towards his race to catch up. "Fushimi-san! I think this Strain can manipulate metal!"
"What?" he hissed breathlessly from behind. "Are you sure you're not just a klutz?"
Neirah was too enraged to be annoyed by his sarcastic dig. "When Rikio and I found Ōta-san, there were bloody footprints climbing up the wall."
Saruhiko let his dubious gaze linger on his unexpected partner that evening before his scrutiny shot towards their desperate target. "He's like a human magnet."
"It's going to make it hard for either of us to fight with our weapons," she reasoned. "But if I can get in close, there's nothing he can do to stop my flames."
Saruhiko's fierce gaze immediately returned to her agile sprint. "Don't be stupid! I already told you-"
"Just let me help you!"
Tsk. Saruhiko's molars snapped as he tried desperately to keep up with her. When it came to athleticism and martial ability, Neirah would always excel far beyond what he was capable of accomplishing. She was fast, she was powerful, and she burned just as brightly as her king. It was infuriating. "Just cut it out," he growled under his breath. He didn't need help. He didn't need anybody's help, not hers, not Mikoto's- He dropped his head, spitting his words out in a sudden rush of breath. "Just stay out of my way!"
Neirah startled to his sudden intensity, her softening eyes turning to face where he continued to reject her, but that was nothing new. It made her wonder how he was doing on his own. Did he make any friends? Did he miss the way things used to be? She never instigated his deeper ire, poking fun with him over trivial matters instead, and leaving her curiosity unsatisfied.
She didn't have long to dwell on her disappointment when their prey suddenly immobilized, turning to face them both with breathless wheezes rushing from his heaving chest as he threw out both of his hands towards them.
Neirah's body tensed with uncertainty. "He just stopped…"
"What now?" Saruhiko growled.
"L-leave me alone!"
Neirah's eyes widened as the boy began to buckle the support beams of a vast mobile communications tower. The properties of the metal looked altered because she never thought she would see something so disturbing as steel cracking like dry timber.
"This brat," Saruhiko grated. "At this rate, he's going to blackout the entire block."
But in his effort to exhaust one final push to cripple their pursuit, Neirah noticed the way his deep focus blinded him to their approach. The boy likely thought that they would be too distracted by the structure's collapse to advance. "Fushimi-san! I'm pushing through!"
"What!?"
Neirah ground her teeth, igniting her body as she made her attempt to outrun the collapse of steel at her back. Their target looked weak, so if she could get one good strike in, there was a chance she could knock him unconscious and return the use of their weapons. Unfortunately, before she could launch off the building, the final support gave way and sent the beams rushing towards the rooftop like they were under pressure. She was almost ready to make her leap when she noticed how quickly the antenna shadow darkened on approach.
With an exasperated cry of frustration, she surrendered her original tangent. She dove forward, popped off her fingers and landed on the slippery fire escape to the sight of the brace that continued to buckle like discarded paper. "What an unbelievable power," she bitterly marvelled.
"Tsukiyo! Pay attention!"
Neirah jostled herself back into the moment when she felt the fire escape wobble, and soon, her wild eyes were darting towards their exhausted target. With a bitter growl, she spun on her heels and prepared to launch.
Unfortunately, as she spun, she felt the spike of her heel slip clumsily into the rattling grate at her feet, and when her right foot prepared to shove off her perch with all of its force, she felt as sickening snap in her ankle that caused her entire leg to burn.
Saruhiko flinched to the sound of her heatedly indignant yelp, and when he darted his eyes towards the sight of her hesitating, his heart sank. He watched with wide eyes as the grate jostled, tipping the unsteady woman from its mouth. He waited for a second or two, anticipating the sight of her chain launching, her body weaving, anything to deny that she was falling. But by the time the third second passed, he knew she was in trouble. "What the hell are you waiting for?!"
Neirah watched the skyline shrink, and her teeth clenched as the boiling throb in her leg intensified every time she shifted in an attempted recovery. "No," she whimpered nervously. "How did I let this happen?" She closed her eyes, putting all her faith in her friend that she commanded to stay by Jūrō's side. For just a moment before she struck the ground, she had to believe Rikio would pull off another dramatic rescue and save her from breaking all the bones in her body. 'It's fine, it's fine,' she repeated in her flustered mind. Soon, her worry escalated and forced a rushed cry from behind her trembling lips. "Everything will work out!"
The rush of breath racing from her lungs was crippling and caused her to cough as she struck his protective embrace, and grateful tears stung the backs of her eyes as she sealed them tight. She choked the pain down in her burning throat behind her relieved smile. "Ri-chan, I'm so glad you didn't-"
Tsk.
Neirah's heart palpitated when she heard the bitter click utter next to her protected crown, and moments after, her bewildered eyes were swinging to face where Saruhiko was glaring bitterly towards the rooftops. "F-Fushimi-san…?"
"I told you he was a dog," he snapped. "Don't just go around relying on other people all the time. You're going to end up dead." And she couldn't die, certainly not while he was around.
"I-I'm sorry-?" Neirah whimpered in pain as he dropped her from his supportive embrace against the street, and just as she was about to complain that he could have been gentler, she saw the rush of the crumpled fire escape plummeting towards them.
Her eyes shone with respectful admiration as he steamed a fistful of throwing darts in one hand with remnants of his red aura, his sword a bright cerulean beacon in the night as he calmly resisted their threat. By the time he released the knives, they had sliced through the thin gating to weaken the slab, and by the time the frame crashed around them, he was able to strike the centre free with a burst of his cobalt aura.
Saruhiko stood in the centre of the slab he'd hollowed out, panting with what he wanted to claim was fury. "You idiot…" he growled under his breath. He whirled to face her with a livid scowl knotting his face. "Just what the hell were you-!?"
He froze, startled by the impact of her tender smile. She didn't say anything, didn't sass him for actually caring, or saving her, nothing. She just smiled, and her eyes did the rest. He quickly diverted his gaze, sheathing his sword in a frustrated frenzy. "Can you stand?"
Neirah tried to brush off his concern, scoffing lightly to deride his interest. "Oh please, we weren't that high-" The arrogant woman's tone broke around the sounds of her soft squeal, but before she could collapse back onto the street, Saruhiko was lurching towards her fumble.
"That answers that question," he rumbled irritably. "Sit down. You're not going anywhere."
"But-!"
He wasn't gentle when he forced her onto the ground where she could rest stably. "How long has Yata been telling you to quit wearing these stupid shoes?" he firmly reprimanded. He jerked the ivory knee-high from her dainty foot and peeled the sock away despite her stifled moans. Sure enough, when he revealed her skin to the gentle rainfall, her skin was already discolouring. He heaved an exasperated sigh and flopped his wrist against his one raised knee, letting her tiny sock dangle from defeated fingers. "This is just great."
"Go."
Saruhiko flinched, turning to face her command with an analytical furrow in his brow. "What?"
"Go after him before he gets too far ahead." Despite the troubled and somewhat solemn crease in her brow, she still offered him a supportive grin. "This is your job now, right? Not looking after 'friends' or anything so ridiculous."
Saruhiko climbed to his feet, overseeing her as she withheld the need to let her eyes water. He carefully considered the situation and realized that the Strain they were chasing was likely running out of strength. Together, they'd managed to burn him out, and by the time Saruhiko tracked him down again, he probably wouldn't have much fight left.
With a derisive snort, he turned away from her and clutched his collar, speaking into the communication device mounted on his shirt. "This is Fushimi," he rumbled dully. "I'm going to need a medical unit, stat. I'm sending the location as we speak."
When he raised his eyes from his work to face her again, her smile was wavering with humiliation. Her pride was one of her most significant weaknesses. She was always embarrassed to be seen as weak, unaware that there wasn't a single soul around who didn't know that she could be more durable than anyone else he knew.
With a disappointed sigh, he carelessly tossed her sock into her lap. "You'd better be here when they show up," he cautioned her. The last thing he needed was his leniency wasting their precious time. "HOMRA's informant should be on his way to the hospital as we speak. I called for him before I ever gave chase."
Neirah caught her sock, interested in returning it to her cold foot until she tried to curl her toes and almost caused her stomach to heave. "Don't worry about me," she forced in a wavering tone. "Even if my loyal dog has to carry me there, you know my injuries won't go untreated."
Saruhiko scoffed. "You've got them right where you want them, don't you?" he whispered. Without saying a word, Neirah smiled and gently knocked her knuckles against her chest. The very notion caused Saruhiko's insides to twist before he turned away from the site entirely.
A mild whimper sounded as she watched Saruhiko depart, leaving her in the cold, quiet street alone. She took a deep breath, giving him another moment to disappear before she let out a piercing and agonized screech.
"Hey! Watch it!"
Izumo recoiled, sheepishly holding up his hand as he crossed through the white hospital walls behind a stampeding Misaki. "So sorry about that," he clamoured apologetically. It wasn't the first person Misaki had thrown to the side to navigate the halls, but Izumo was beginning to grow irritable with his riled subordinate. He hadn't left his bar in Masaomi's care only to end up in jail for aggravated assault. With his long reach, Izumo snapped his fingers around Misaki's sweater collar, jerking him back to the sound of the boy's startled gag. "Alright, Yata. Settle down. You're acting like a wild animal, for crying out loud."
The youthful vanguard threw his disapproving scowl over his shoulder and glared at his captor. "How can you say that, Kusanagi-san! Tsukiyo's hurt! We gotta be there to-"
"To what, Yata-chan?" Izumo mildly corrected. He released the sheepish boy to continue his scolding. "What's done is done. We're just here to bring her home." He slipped one hand in his jacket pocket as the other retrieved a note from the reception desk. "There's nobody to be mad at this time. No need for revenge. Accidents happen, so unless you wanna go beat the snot outta the ground, it's not worth you gettin' all fired up."
"Damn it!" Misaki hissed and kicked out a stray supply cart. "I told her a million times that those shoes were no good! I knew that this was gonna happen!" With a low growl, Misaki clenched his fist and promised that the revenge he sought would sate on her classy white high-heeled boots.
"Yeah, I think we all had a pretty good idea," Izumo rumbled calmly. "Ah, here we are." He crumpled the note in his palm after referencing the piece of paper he'd received from the receptionist. Not wanting to keep the clutter, he subtly ignited the parchment in his palm until nothing remained when he opened his fingers. "Our girl should be just on the other side of this door."
Misaki stiffened, one eye twitching as he focussed his attention on a room service cart parked just outside Neirah's accommodations. His tone immediately flattened as he threw his finger out towards the sight of a beautiful blue and violet flower arrangement resting on top.
"Oh, flowers, would you look at that," Izumo sang. "I wonder if Kamamoto picked them up before he went to visit Ōta-san."
Misaki's blood began to boil when he considered the sapphire ribbon and the way the SCEPTRE4 crest bound it around the bouquet. "No way," he milled out lividly. "That son-of-a- Monkey!" His sudden roar erupted in the quiet hall, making ordinary civilians gasp as he grabbed the flowers and started shaking their petals free, beating the naked stems off walls as he vented his fury. "The next time I see him, I'm gonna wring his fucking neck!"
With a casual sigh, Izumo threw open the door and exposed Neirah's room to the sight of Misaki's irrational rampage. "We're here," he sang. "Lucky you…"
"Ah, I'll call you back, Ri-chan. Onii-san's here to pick me up.
Yep.
Okay. We'll see you back at base then." Neirah's bright gaze immediately shot from her disconnecting phone towards where Izumo had joined her. "Kusanagi-san, welcome!"
Izumo settled, ignoring Misaki's profanities filtering through the entryway to the sound of nervous civilians. "Heard you got the x-rays back. By the looks of that ugly boot on your leg-"
Neirah interrupted him with a musical sigh. "It looks like Yata was right," she surrendered in high spirits. "But, at least it was my ankle and not my neck."
A relieved smile brightened his lax expression. "You can say that again," he jeered.
"I just got off the phone with Ri-chan," she announced happily. "Ōta-san is going to make a full recovery. Okazaki says that SCEPTRE4 has the Strain in their custody now, and it turns out that he was just looking for somewhere to stay when Ōta-san startled him into self-defence." She lowered her remorseful smile with a gentle sigh. "I probably made things worse when I went after him, but I was so angry that I didn't care if he was afraid."
"Yeah, well, he wouldn't be the first," Izumo pestered her fondly. "Do you remember what Yata was like the night you two met?"
Neirah couldn't help but snigger deviously to the recollection. "How could I forget?" she whispered. It wasn't easy when she kept actively comparing their states of progression. "But that's okay. I told Anna-chan once that I don't mind being feared if it means protecting the people closest to me. For that, I will gladly play the monster."
Izumo flashed her an understanding smile. "You ready to get out of here, kid?"
Just as Neirah parted her lips, she heard the sudden whooshing of flame, and moments later, the smoke alarms in the recovery ward began to chime. A-ah…
Izumo closed his eyes, his smile fading as he listened to the sound of Misaki cursing the activating sprinkler system. "Yata-chan was worried, so I let him come along."
Gentle giggling livened Neirah's flushed expression as she beamed at her superior. "I bet you feel foolish."
Hm. Returning a smile in force, Izumo folded one arm at his waist and gave the woman a playful bow. "Your chariot awaits, Mademoiselle."
Neirah accepted his offered hand, allowing him to steady her as she fought to stabilize her crutch. "This is so awkward," she moaned. "And they want me to use two of these?"
"In tandem," he sassed. "Hey, Yata!" Izumo turned his head over his shoulder to face the doorway just in time to catch Misaki scampering into view, adjusting his hat on his soaking head. "Make yourself useful and come help her."
Misaki seemed startled to consider that he had a purpose other than to beat revenge out of inanimate objects. "O-oh, right!"
Izumo rolled his eyes, listening to the sound of Misaki trying to banish the evidence of arson in the hall. "That kid," he grumbled. "The moment Fushimi's in the mix, it's like trying to tame the tide."
"Let him be, Onii-san," she whispered. "It's not an easy thing."
"And you?" he instigated. "I heard he was there tonight."
Shh, she hushed. Neirah's cheeks flooded with colour to recall his dedication to her preservation that night, and it caused a bashful smile to warm her tired expression. "Fushimi-san and I are still friends. What happened doesn't bother me like it does Yata."
"S-sorry!" Misaki stammered nervously upon rushing through the entry towards Neirah's bedside. "Ah, shit… Y-you really busted it good, huh?" When he settled by her side, he looked towards Izumo and then towards where Neirah anticipated his aid. Misaki's arms came out at the same time as his cheeks ignited with embarrassment to be so near to the woman. "L-like this?"
Neirah could feel Misaki shudder when she suddenly burst into laughter for no apparent reason. "No, ow, ow. This is too much!" she bayed. "Put me down, put me down."
Izumo cocked a brow at her hysterics as she wiped whimsical tears from her eyes. "Something funny?"
"Wow, yes," she corrected sarcastically. She pointed towards Izumo with the devious cocking of one brow. "When you were trying to figure out who to bring along, you couldn't have grabbed King-sama or Wolf-kun?" It was clear that Izumo was having a hard time following her train of thought, so she quickly informed them of her discovery by throwing her finger towards Misaki. "You're not even remotely close to the same height."
Realization struck and caused Izumo to hum fondly with his entertainment. "Right, that would make things awkward, wouldn't it?" He peeked around the doorway and watched the janitor proceed to mop up the mess the sprinklers made of the hallway. "And you should probably watch your step out there, so you don't end up breakin' your other foot."
"Here."
Misaki flinched when Neirah reached out and tapped the back of her fingers against his arm, and he shuddered like the gentle effort was a threat. "Y-yeah?"
Neirah's brow skeptically creased. "Why so meek all of a sudden?" she cooed with curiosity. "I thought we were past this?" When he didn't do any more than divert his gaze, Neirah laughed lightly to consider her situation. "Don't worry. You can say it if you want to."
Misaki turned his anxious inquiry her way and sized up her circumstance. "S-say what?"
She leaned forward and pressured his recollection with a cunning smirk. "I told you so?"
He supposed that was as good an excuse as any as he twisted up his defiant pout around his bitter snort. "Well, I did…"
"Yeah, you did," she whispered. When she climbed to her feet, Misaki rushed to her command, weaving himself beneath her shoulder no matter how unnerving it was to be so close to her heaving HOMRA brand. "Kusanagi-san, if you wouldn't mind managing doors, I think Yata and I can handle the rest."
Izumo smiled at the pair fondly, recalling a time where they could hardly stand to be in the same room as one another. "Cute," he murmured. When the pair tilted their synchronized enquiry his way, he flashed them a mischievous smirk. "When you take your heels off, you're actually quite a bit shorter than Yata, aren't you?"
Neirah tipped her observation towards where Misaki was doing his best to look anywhere but where she observed him, and it made her smile. Before she could tease him, though, she slipped her PDA from her pocket and scrolled through her messages to flash a particular image towards the pair. "Oh, before we leave, I don't suppose reception mentioned anything about flowers, did they?" She could feel Misaki tense beneath her arm as he supported her, which caused her scrutiny to shift return to him. "Gin said he sent some over, but-"
She was startled by the sound of Izumo trying to stifle his laughter, which made it sputter out in a muffled snort. "What's so funny?" she cooed.
Izumo straightened and tried to regain his composure. "Let's just say, no petals, no stems, no thorns. HOMRA doesn't leave ashes, remember?"
Neirah turned her curiosity towards where Misaki began to groan sheepishly by her side.
"I uh… I thought Fushimi brought them for you…"
The janitor outside the room was grumbling about how ignorant the day's youth was, but even she could admit that something endearing sounded with the laughter that filled the hallways when the friends gathered within the room. They seemed to have that effect on most people. Still, it wasn't nearly as endearing to the shadow lurking at the end of the hall watching Misaki struggle to keep the woman against his support upright as she hobbled next to where Izumo carried her crutches for her. Instead of appreciating the strength of their bonds, he raised his fingers to his collar and gave his defiled brand an anxious scratch.
Tsk.
