Sinking Into Pools of Mocha 4
****
Makoto didn't take her eyes off every single building she passed as she walked down the street to head for her shift at the disco. Every night she left her home half an hour early before her actual shift started. This was merely done to prepare herself for the night. It made her eyes more alert in the dark environment and awakened her fighter's senses, powering her strength when it was the right time. All in all she always felt ready to take on anyone if they treated her as a joke. Besides she had a much better reason to keep her training up and running. She was certain she was going to bump into HIM tonight but the big question was when he would show up.
After being screwed in the head by Schuldig this morning, Makoto raced back home to practise some moves. She could see that these guys meant business. If they wanted to make a mess out of her then she was going to do the same to them before making them sit in a prison cell for God knows how many months or years. It would have been great if she could have settled this weird conflict with Crawford without any form of violence although it sounded unrealistic in her book of problem solving.
Only her fists were going to do the talking. It was the best solution she could think up. Anyway shouldn't she have the right to punch Crawford when she had the chance? He and his friends were the ones who started the trouble. Makoto was going to pay them back for picking on innocent people. From afar, she could see the flashing lights that were decorated above the door of the disco, flickering in green and white every consecutive minute. Tonight seemed rather quiet as it had been over the past month.
Ever since she got the bouncer job nobody could deny that life had grown tranquil. It was mostly thanks to her helping out no doubt. The rest of the temporarily peaceful moments were done by the police whenever they wished to show up in Juuban. Not many policemen were aware of Makoto's abilities, assuming she was a feminine girl who did as she pleased during the night. Unsurprisingly, some wouldn't accept the fact she was a tough female bouncer who took no shit from anyone if they dared mess with her outside the most popular discotheque. But nevertheless, the regular faces Makoto saw patrolling on the streets often showed their respect and greeted her each time they met the young girl. Those moments were very rare and it was common for those officers to head out of town straightaway if there was an emergency elsewhere.
Makoto checked her hands to see whether they were alright and not shivering like crazy in the nightly air. She had grown used to wearing fingerless gloves every evening and the protective garments were able to lower the number of times her hands shook from the cold. Even though she was on shift tonight, she had to be on the look out for Crawford or his buddies. She was hoping to see Crawford more than the others so then her curiosity would burst out into the open and she would talk to him face to face rather than have Schuldig playing with her brain in an annoyingly painful manner, taunting her about embarrassing feelings.
She would definitely know if either one of her opponents would be here tonight if another victim came into the open, perhaps a young girl who was screaming for help. That would be a signal for Makoto to get out there and do her heroic stunt like she often did every night and then an opportunity to beat the hell out of Crawford. He was going to come tonight. She just wanted to know where and when. Impatience was one of her flaws, she had to admit. But then again, what if he never came? Should she simply get on with her night as though he never existed? Maybe she should...
****
Crawford stared at the shop window from his table. One hand cradled the round coffee cup and steam from his beverage travelled towards his chin, passing his nose and attacking the lens of his glasses. The rumours about this café were definitely true, he had realised. They did sell various types of coffee and that was what intrigued him to buy something to drink. Coffee was a man's best friend if you needed it that badly. The American had been working non-stop today after his run-in with Schuldig.
How did he guess that the mischievous Telepath would play with that girl? It was tempting to spank the naughty German for his punishment but Crawford's workaholic mind controlled his impatience and forced him to get back to focusing on the real deal. Concentrating on how to get the truth out to Makoto was proving to be difficult. If Schuldig hadn't have gone off to do as he pleased without any permission from his leader, Crawford would have arranged a simple one-to-one talk with the former schoolgirl waitress.
There would be no punches or bleeding cheeks. Just a business-like conversation between two people who met five years ago in a café. Crawford knew from looking into Makoto's eyes that she wanted to find out more on who this guy was. Schuldig had been telling him about her thoughts. She was still under the influence of assuming this twenty-two year old American was a cool, handsome graduate who enjoyed Japanese culture and mastered the Japanese language. Looked like his act back then really was convincing. True he was a student in university but he had other reasons to being in this country. Befriending Makoto was supposed to be part of his disguise…although somehow it didn't look like this was the case these days. Who would have thought that Fate would bring them back together after all these years, under such circumstances?
Crawford drank his coffee slowly and checked his wrist watch. A few more minutes left till she arrived at her shift. Despite the fact he hadn't seen her yet, he sensed her far away. It wasn't just her physical presence, it was her mind. He may not have been a telepath like Schuldig but someone like her had a brain filled with anger and aggression, which were both dying to be released from their shells. He had been here for fifteen minutes, awaiting her arrival outside the bar not far from this small café. Ever since he left Schwarz's temporary quarters, he felt an excited sensation fill his system. He was looking forward to seeing her, wasn't he?
It wasn't like him at all. Nagi, Farfarello and Schuldig pointed that out to their leader before he departed this afternoon. Crawford wasn't someone who liked to share his personal thoughts with anyone and a conversation with him merely meant business. There were times though where he did demonstrate his cold side when it came to assassinating people on missions. He could be a bastard at this kind of thing even though his sadistic attitude didn't show as clearly as Farfarello or Schuldig's. Maybe this excitement was down to this sadistic part of him. Was he looking forward to hurting her again? He had to admit, that girl did look pretty when she was in pain. So it wasn't down to love, was it? Thank the heavens! His mind thought. There was no such thing as love in his opinion. Humans were easy prey to such an emotion. Crawford's mocha eyes flashed briefly after he spotted something outside. Seemed like the time had come to pay the lovely face a visit.
****
Makoto rubbed her hands together when she arrived just outside the door, preparing for her shift for tonight. Five minutes ago, Tai had just gone inside after finishing his time by the entrance. The rest of his night was now on the dance floor, which was a ground where people went to get exhausted, as well as to shake off their high sensations after drugging themselves with various ingredients or to liven themselves after drinking a lot of alcohol. Of course all the bouncers here were careful enough to take care of illegal drug dealing or fights between drunkards. Those were the main dangers at a place like this. Makoto could trust her co-workers to do their job whilst she would do hers, which would be outside in the cold night and waiting for someone to threaten her.
She ignored some stares as she stood by the door to the disco, folding her arms over her chest as if a security guard in a huge shopping complex. It was becoming a norm for her to get stares once in a while during shifts. Makoto doubted that this group of youths had any idea that she worked as a bouncer here. What, did they assume she was something more disgusting than a bouncer? She never dressed like a whore, for sure. It was always a pair of trousers and a shirt. That was her 'fighter' outfit. How else could she perform special moves on her opponents?
Makoto stifled a loud yawn behind her hand and, when she turned to her left, caught sight of a familiar face coming her way. Her mouth immediately closed shut as soon as she took in the details of what the person looked like. Well, well looks like her night may get busy after all. Dammit why the hell did he have to wear another one of those nice suits? Just how many did he have? But hey regardless of how many suits he had in his wardrobe he could look smart. Only tonight he was wearing everything black from top to bottom rather than the cream suit she last saw him wear. The dark shades made him a lot slimmer. God what the hell was she thinking, complimenting on his clothes? Shouldn't she be downright pissed? Why the hell did he also have to be good looking like before?
Crawford caught Makoto shaking her head and moaning to herself, which made him laugh as he watched her act stupidly. He and Schuldig could be laughing all night if they watched her like this…but this was *his* personal concern, not the German's. Crawford's chuckle brought her to stare back up to meet his dark brown irises and he could definitely see the same anger from last night. "Is something wrong?" He then asked.
Makoto snorted and slowly approached him, leaving her spot. "I didn't expect you to show up. Well okay maybe I did but I just didn't know when. Call it a hunch, if you want."
"I knew we would meet tonight." Crawford said, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "Because I had a vision." She stared at him, perplexed with what he told her. OK something was telling her that this guy wasn't as nice or normal as she first thought back then. Schuldig she knew had telepathy but Brad…what was his deal? Come to think of it, were his entire posse all psychics? She had a hard time picturing the psycho knifeman Farfarello as someone who possessed psychic powers. But he was someone who couldn't feel pain, it seemed. Yes that made sense. None of her hits on him really injured his body. Casting that aside, she went back to Crawford.
"Are you telling me you can see the future then?" Makoto assumed, taking away the confused stare. He nodded to confirm the truth. Oh shit she thought. So this was why he was hard to fight. He could easily predict her moves before she made up her mind on what to use as an attack. Dammit that was cheating. No! It was a disadvantage for her. How was she to fight someone like him then?
"I only see a small glimpse of the future," Crawford added, as though he wanted to make her feel less threatened (which seemed unlikely). Small or not, Makoto couldn't help keeping her defence up. He could be bluffing for all she knew. Maybe he could see every single move she was about to pull off rather than the first three attacks. Freaks like him couldn't be taken too lightly. She had to deal with Crawford quickly before dialling the emergency number to get the police coming.
"Brad…uh sorry, Crawford," Makoto had to correct herself straightaway. She knew it pissed him off from the way he bit his lower lip after she said his first name. "Are you really a murderer?" It was hard to say that word because her mouth quivered slightly, which most likely meant she was reluctant to state this particular noun aloud. "I'm asking you this because your buddy Schuldig told me some stuff today."
"Schuldig may clown around during his spare time but what he says is quite true," He replied, ignoring the silliness he had encountered today with his team mate. "I've been trained as an assassin for many years." His eyes hardened. "Even when I met you."
Makoto restrained herself from saying anything rude to hide her shock. The truth was out at last. The nice Brad dude she met in the past was nothing. It was all an act. Wherever he worked his nice guy routine was all an act. And she was one of the main people deceived by this façade. Now she was more embarrassed. Crawford could see she was humiliated when she turned away him to show the back of her head where a huge amount of auburn hair was tied into a ponytail.
"Well if this is the case, then I guess I'm entitled to do this…" As soon as her self-consciousness wore off and her head turned back to face him she went straight at Crawford without another word, knowing he was prepared to get to her. Still, she had to give it her best to beat this guy down before anyone else became a murder victim.
This was going to be difficult but she had no other choice. Makoto wasn't a psychic and there was no point in showing her Sailor Senshi ability because then it would give away her other identity. She was going to fight as Kino Makoto, so-called saviour of the night who worked as bouncer and blew thugs away with her Karate techniques. Her mind kept on telling her to go at him with any move. What she needed to see were some injuries, blood or screams of pain. It didn't matter. Makoto wanted to get this fight over and done with.
Both her aggression and anger had to be taken out on something and Crawford was the perfect choice. He was the one who made this all start, didn't he? Why the hell did she have to meet him five years later? Why did this stud have to be on the opposing team? She just didn't understand life. What the hell was it with her falling for guys like him? This was a secret that was too embarrassing to be shared with anyone. Talk about humiliation! Crawford didn't seem to be paying much attention to her expressions as he rapidly dodged her side thrust kicks coming at his abdomen.
Oh please! He jeered You can do better than that. This girl was strong but it seemed like she was clouding herself with strong emotions while fighting. Sure it was entertaining to see her fight out of emotion although there were sometimes careless moments when she was letting herself open for an attack. When he did take a minute to observe her face, Crawford was caught in her pools of glaring jade and the wavy flow of her brown strands. As though he was back in time, he found himself back as the twenty-two year old 'graduate' drinking coffee at the local café and smiling blissfully towards the young Japanese girl working as a part-time waitress.
The girl had never changed since their first encounter. Her physique was the same and she was likely to have the same behaviour, which was through fighting as a saviour. For a second, he suddenly recalled a rumour where she was given the nickname Karate Maniac in a previous school and that caused her to leave so she would end up in Juuban High. Although those rumours didn't hurt her mentally, Crawford remembered how very friendly she was during her work. He doubted many people would really believe this girl was expelled from school for getting into fights. But that was what intrigued him about her.
So what if she was different to everyone with her tall height and sharp stare…he couldn't help finding himself indulging his eyes on her. Even right now! Crawford shot back into reality to just about miss a jump kick from the left leg after defending himself from numerous punches to various parts. Makoto swore quietly and stepped back a little to watch him. No matter how many moves she delivered she wasn't able to get a hit. Maybe he learnt from his mistake on briefly underestimating her. That roundhouse kick she did last night was pure chance. Maybe he knew it and didn't say a word when he predicted she would use the other leg to kick him. But of course she wouldn't have known he had psychic powers to begin with. That discovery only happened a minute ago.
Speaking of discoveries, Makoto saw Crawford had been smiling at her since she commenced this brawl. What was it he found funny about her? Through her high level punches she spotted him grinning at her casually, at times closing his eyes while blocking her attacks. He was taking this too easy, wasn't he? And she thought she had him with that left jump kick as well.
"Hey!" Makoto called. "Is there something about me you find amusing?" She charged at him with more backhand strikes, going for the lower level this time before making her way up. She hated it when people laughed at her without giving a proper reason. If this son of a bitch wouldn't answer her then she was going to pound the answer out of him. What was going in that brain of his? If only she had telepathy like Schuldig then she would find out. Either that or just shave off his head to cut from the outside and research his brain. Her voice rose to get some attention. "Answer me, damn…"
Unexpectedly, Makoto got a response from her opponent. Her right arm halted from coming in with a smack to the head; thanks to a strong hold around her wrist. Her body was then slammed against the wall, which seemed to give her the moment to see that this fight had changed. She didn't notice until now that this brawl had moved away from the disco and they were now at the corner of a closed alleyway. It was unbelievable how getting into a fight really indulged your mind from the environment of reality.
"T-that hurt," Makoto whispered. Her back was probably bruised now. Or worse, close to making her paralysed. Moving her caught arm away from his face, Crawford showed his face and pulled himself closer to her. The smirk had gone at last and was replaced with an impassive face. His mocha eyes wouldn't move away from her, forcing the girl to keep her confused emerald irises in his gaze.
Makoto watched Crawford's other hand stroke her cheek and then the top of her fringe. Both these gestures sent goose bumps down her spine and it was making her uncomfortable. Nobody had the right touch her like this. Not unless she permitted it. Her entire body was stuck in its place since Crawford was of a larger size and had pressed himself so close to her own slim figure, which was causing the girl great difficulty in breathing. As his face drew nearer, Makoto noticed how his expression changed. His eyes weren't glaring at her as she had assumed. In fact, behind the impassiveness, there seemed to be curiosity. A need to search for something. Well it wasn't like Makoto was paying a lot of attention to that. She was busy attempting to grapple free from her opponent's action of suffocation.
However Crawford's strength was undoubtedly stronger and it could be seen when his hands thumped both her arms against the wall as though there were chains attached to her wrists. His face was much nearer to her than his body; the front strands of his black fringe irritating her cheeks. She could hear them both breathe raggedly underneath their closeness to one another. It was clear that the rest of her body was unable to move under such a weight. In other words, she was trapped and was unable to prevent what would happen next. Makoto was unable to speak as soon as a strong mouth clasped tightly over her lips.
Shouldn't she try to escape from this man's grasp? To be able to get away from him was unlikely if she was being heavily kissed now, right? When Crawford pulled his lips away Makoto tried to ask him what he was doing. Their eyes locked onto one another, both awaiting an answer. However it was too late for any verbal response to be exchanged as soon as Crawford's lips restarted to seek hers. There was no chance for any air and Makoto found herself giving in to the fresh lust this coffee dude (from five years ago) was demonstrating. What was the meaning of this alternative action? Makoto didn't understand what was going on. How could she let this happen? Crawford's arms had begun to work their way around her figure, feeling every single curve and muscle that lay underneath her clothes.
Regardless of how many times she wanted to be freed the American refused to let her go – just as long as he was able to do as he pleased while holding her against him. There was no way she was able to throw a punch or kick at this rate. It seemed this man was someone who wanted control. Not letting his victims out of his sight. Makoto felt her feet leaving the ground and her body ascended and her face was now level to Crawford's. She was able to release a gasp when the man's lips moved to taste her neck, taking in her taste and smelling her.
"C-Crawford," She beckoned him breathlessly. "W-what…?"
"Don't talk," He told her in a stern yet desperate voice. Damn, Schuldig was right after all. She was succulent inside and out. It wasn't merely through her lips. Her flesh was something too. Crawford didn't believe that his wish would be real. Wait till he got his hands on the German for making him think such dirtier thoughts. Back in the early hours of the day Crawford was able to suppress from Schuldig his true feeling of what he wanted to do with Makoto. But right now, he was free. Neither one of Schwarz were here to watch him. Tonight was enough for privacy. He could do whatever the hell he found necessary, which was to release his yearning to have Makoto, taste her and make her surrender to his dominance.
This girl may have been tough when it came to fighting but under *these* circumstances, she was like a helpless kitty…and Crawford was pulling himself further in because of this crazy amusement. Why in the world was he putting himself this close to her? Schuldig had a lot to blame for teasing him about his personal thoughts towards this female, forcing his leader to go through enticing notions. Talk about a *wild* imagination! Makoto's strength shortly returned in both arms and she took this prospect to break free from her so-called wrist chains, creating an opposing force against Crawford's arms in order to push his physique off of her. This was it. She could beat him now…right?
However what happened next was not what she had in mind. Rather than endeavour to push him away, Makoto's grip on his arms loosened immediately and as an alternative motion she allowed him to press more adjacently to her. She knew Crawford's dominance was impossible to break away from, as well as the powerful kisses on her lips and the alluring massages all over her body. Somehow having trouble breathing didn't seem to matter at all to her for now. What Makoto was feeling at the moment was just so unbelievably good! And it was bound to be the same for him too. OK this is wrong! Makoto thought realistically I shouldn't be doing this. This has to stop! This has to….
Crawford didn't know how this vision could come true. All he foresaw today was these two fighting in an alley, which predictably came to life, and then a split second of minor kissing. But what was taking place right now…that was not what his ability warned him about. Did any of this look like simple kissing? Hell no. He had taken out his suppressed lust and splashed it all over Makoto, who didn't seem to be fighting it very well. In fact she seemed to be appreciating the passionate gestures he was showing her and she was giving the same treatment to him. As they both continued to kiss excitedly, Makoto's fingers scraped through his dark strands with painful strength. Ooh so the girl WAS strong after all, it seemed. He underestimated her in this area, didn't he?
In some way an abrupt trigger struck inside Crawford's mind, which then forced him to pull his devouring mouth off of Makoto, who was staring at him with startled green eyes. The events that went on tonight made them feel as though they had been in another world and had only awakened from their dream of hidden desire. Or was it the fact that their bodies were screaming desperately for some air from kissing non-stop and feeling one another, which would explain the sudden reflex of Crawford pulling away from her? Nevertheless the Schwarz leader knew his time was up. The vision he had had come to life and surprised him with more discoveries. He had beaten his opponent through lust and dominance and nobody was left injured (hopefully).
As his breathing slowed down, he released his arms off of Makoto and stepped backwards to observe her complete figure. Even though his amusement was over for tonight, he couldn't help admiring how helpless and defeated the Japanese girl appeared when she automatically crouched down to her knees, continuing to stare at him with perplexity. The vulnerability she was showing on the outside only made her more attractive as the prey.
"Why did you do this to me?" Makoto asked, unable to breathe properly yet. He smiled briefly before turning on his loafers to set off without saying a word to her. "H-hey, don't go…oh damn!" Makoto's arm and leg muscles weren't able to move from her position. She was too exhausted to go after him, particularly from what she had let herself get into just now under his power. Surrendering to fatigue, she closed her eyes to recover whatever strength she had lost tonight.
TBC
