A/n- Hello thanks for the reviews of support, I truly truly appreciate it. I'm so glad to continue this and hopefully end it before this year is up. I'm so excited to post the newest chapters and hope you all enjoy. Thank you. The next chapter will be from Sai's POV. It's a very pivotal chapter and I can't wait to post it. Have a great weekend!
Sai
Heads up, Taxi's there.
Address is 4476 Nakano blvd.
True to his word and just as annoyingly punctual, Sai did send a cab to retrieve her. She could spot the cab from the motel lobby where she sat sipping coffee laced with four caps of gin—from a Styrofoam cup.
They wouldn't let her smoke in the lobby, something about stupid kids, elders and restrictive policies.
Imagine that, in this shithole of a place.
She knew she shouldn't have been pissed about it. It's a nasty habit anyway, she tried to rationalize, but her nerves wouldn't budge on the matter. At least the gin did manage to take the edge off.
Why are bad things so damn hard to shake?
The cab engaged its hazard lights and Ino stalked over to the wastebasket nearest the door to discard the toxic brew.
The sky has gotten infinitely darker, obstinate grey clouds hang low to the ground and the pavement darkens from the brooding downpour. A few people shuffle past her hastily, buttoned up in squeaky pastel coloured raincoats.
Ino hangs back to strip off her token leather jacket—holding it over her head to shield her from the vicious deluge of rain. The moment she stepped outside, the icy breeze jumped down her lungs, and as she strides through sizeable puddles and specks of water leap up her legs—she can't help but to feel agitated with her wardrobe choice.
A black halter top and mini skirt. Then again—it wasn't like she had much of anything when she first left Noriko's. She packed very light and sexy. The heaviest things she owned are; her father's leather jacket and her combat boots.
The moment she made it to the taxi, she threw herself onto the back seat exhaustively slamming the door shut behind her. The polished leather of the seats stuck to her bare wet thighs and she tosses the damp leather jacket into the seat beside her with a sigh.
"Konnichiwa!" The gregarious driver greeted, looking over his shoulder to flash her a charming smile and wave. He was a much older guy—with prominent laugh lines and liver spots. He seemed dressed with a sense of pride and Ino couldn't help but to notice how tidy the atmosphere was.
The taxi nor its driver appeared to be from this side of town.
Mystified by how someone could be so chipper at this hour, (the afternoon) Ino held up her thumb, "Ko—nnichiwa…"
Wrestling her phone from her coat pocket, Ino showed the driver the address Sai had texted her and after reporting the destination to the dispatcher, the taxi peeled from the sidewalk. The tires mill against the wet gravel and the soft lull of the engine soothed her. She settles into the hot leather—peering down at her cell.
The tattoo parlor appeared to be thirty minutes away, that was more than enough time to weigh the pros in the cons of living with Sai.
Pro-At least I'd own a fucking umbrella.
Con- Sai turns out to be a twisted sick fuck with a chainsaw? Or worse...
Pro-Then again, I'd get a room to myself…minus a mom who'd raid my shit and violate my privacy…
Con-We are way too different; we'll butt heads and get sick of one another in no time. That could really fuck up the deal…
Pro- I fucking survived Noriko…what the fuck could be worse than that?
It didn't help to think about it. Especially since she spent most of her life looking after Noriko. She had never lived with anyone other than her mother and the occasional shitbag her mother allowed into their home "for fun" or "mommy breaks".
She couldn't help but to think about Sai and how he operated daily at home. Wondered what his hang-ups were, or what he enjoyed eating. If he enjoyed sleeping in or—what kinds of things he does for fun.
It all seemed irrelevant, since she doubted they'd be seeing much of one another. Sai seemed to work around the clock, and she'd feel like a lazy sleaze if she just lounged around all day.
Although she hadn't yet began to give Sai any physical treats listed in the contract, he at least—began asking for photos.
For the past two day's he had requested nudes from her. Tasteful nudes, whatever the fuck that meant. A day ago, they met up for the trivial lunch-and-talk. Everything was just as awkward and tense as usual, only now—Sai had a pretty good idea of how she looked with her tits out.
She knew she shouldn't have given a fuck about what he thought about the video she sent him the night before. But as she sat across from him, in a public place, drowning in the catastrophe of everyone chatting and shouting over one another, she couldn't help but to think that every time he looked at her, he was undressing her.
"I have...something for you."
She recalled him saying during the lunch-and-talk.
He said it before they had gone their separate ways for the day. She watched him sheepishly place a champagne beige box with silver trim on top their table. The waitress had long since cleared their booth and scurried off with a generous tip from Sai, but Sai seemed reluctant to leave after they had finished their meal.
Ino realized why the moment he nudged the dazzling box forward with a knuckle. The package was dressed beautifully with a sheer silver ribbon—that seemed to glisten beneath the leer of the skylight.
The box alone looked astonishingly expensive—even the small white card—neatly inserted between the gift and a strap of ribbon seemed absolutely unreal.
She furrowed a brow, though she only had eyes for the gorgeous box "but I didn't get you anything." She teased—biting her tongue. She grazed the ribbon with her fingertips. It almost seemed too pretty to touch.
But she proceeds, like a curious kid on Christmas morning. Sighing, she picks it up and shakes it against her ear.
Something much too light jostles around, weightlessly.
She wondered what he could've possibly gotten her, and why?
"It's lingerie." Sai blurted abruptly—shamelessly, as though there hadn't been a family of four occupying a booth right beside theirs.
Ino might've choked, had this been the first time that Sai had been blunt with her but lately—she had begun to realize that there was no filter when it came to Sai.
This was oddly comforting.
After paying the cab fare, she hustled into the shop. E.O.P was a red bricked building, stashed between a java spot and a private dental practice. It's smack dab in the middle of downtown, and though the rain waged on—the streets were jammed packed with taxi's and busy bodies.
The moment she pushed through the heavy glass door—the bell overhead jingled abruptly. She's sopping wet—and she hadn't bothered putting her jacket over her head. A radio station Dj can be heard from a large speaker stationed in the corner of the commons area. The black walls definitely made the place seem dark—though the glinting polaroid's and red-inked signatures on the wall were a nice touch of tacky. She spots an empty front desk and an empty waiting room—though an album of tattoo samples was propped open and magazines litter the coffee table. She could hear the grating noises of tattooing and a few voices from different directions. Whilst wringing out the ends of her damp hair—she trudged forward in her squeaky boots—bewildered. Her eyes settled on a neon construction sign which stated: unaccompanied children will be beaten and sold.
What the fuc-
"Good Afternoon, are you here to make an appointment or for an appointment?"
She looked to the left, where a room door had been opened and a pale faced woman with a vertical labret piercing emerges—sitting in an office chair that rolls.
"Sorry—neither, I'm looking for Sai."
The woman scotches forward in the chair, closer to Ino. She's thin as death and her lavender blue hair is thrown up into a messy bun. An opal ring dingles from her septum and she licks her dark matted lips.
"Sai?" She laughs, looking Ino over—amusement a gleam in her eye. Ino furrows a brow, flicking her hair over a shoulder.
"Yes, is he here?"
He had fuckin' better be.
The woman nods, standing from the chair to hold out a hand toward Ino. Very similar to Sai—her fingers were tattooed, and she wore multiple silver rings. What stuck out most to Ino had been the origami bird tattoo somewhere beneath her jaw—expanding to her the edge of her bony shoulder. It seemed huge—and shaded in the darkest of reds, and shadowed in the blackest of blacks. Almost like an open wound.
"You must be I—Inoh—Ino? My pronunciation is pitiful isn't it?"
Ino took her hand, "Close enough. It's Ino."
"Oh, Ino," The woman repeated much louder, and with clarity. "That's fucking pretty, you're pretty."
"Thank you." She smiled and she meant it.
From that moment, Ino decided she liked the gothic chick. Very rarely did women compliment her, most of the time they were already finding reasons to hate her. Or maybe she was giving them reasons to.
She appreciated compliments that weren't backhanded. And though this woman was riddled with piercings, she was still oddly attractive.
"My names Konan. He's probably in the back cleaning up—follow me."
She twisted around, shoving the chair she had rode in on aside.
"Sorry there wasn't anyone at the desk to assist you. I'm the only one in this damn place who keeps an ear out for the bell. Our receptionist had her tonsils removed yesterday so she won't be in for a while." Konan goes on to say—as she struts down the hallway, kicking boxes aside to clear a path and muttering 'fucking animals.
Ino followed behind silently until they reached the second to last door down the hall. The door was slightly ajar. The smell of bleach stings her nostrils and pinches at her eyes. The blonde scrunches her nose.
Konan shoves the door open with practiced ease. They enter a squared room which sort of reminds Ino of a hospital room—though it lacked the graveness of a hospital room. The walls were the color of red wine and bare of any polaroid's, frames and signs.
A chair sat in the center of the room—reclined, with a silver tray of cotton swabs, blister packed needles and other tattoo paraphernalia on top.
"You whoooooo!" Konan sung at Sai. "I come bearing gifts."
Ino's eyes darts into the corner of the room—at a small sink and counter area.
Sai is in the processes of yanking a surgical mask from his face. His dark eyes dart from Konan to Ino—and she could practically see when the gears in his brain began turning again.
"Thanks Ko. Goodbye Ko."
Konan scoffs, lingering there as though she wouldn't be leaving anytime soon. Though a few moments later she'd break off her weird stare-off with Sai, muttering something along the lines of 'this is the thanks I get…'.
The moment Konan closes the door and seemed to be out of ear shot—Ino takes off her drenched leather jacket, taking in the neat and orderly state of Sai's 'inking pit'.
"You didn't have to go all out on my behalf." She teased, with a wicked grin.
She could still hear the radio station music from the commons area—along with the insistent buzzes of tattooing.
"I couldn't resist." Sai replied very smart-ass-ishly, in that quiet and calm husk of his. She hated herself for grinning like a fucking idiot—and attempted to appease her petty nature by rolling her eyes at him.
"You're soaking wet," He observes, looking her over with those dark perceptive eyes. His hair looks more unkempt than usual-falling over face as he pulled the latex gloves from his fingers and discarded them into the trash can. "I'm a bit confused, did you ride the typhoon here or the taxi?"