Chapter 27
Mariko ran her fingers over the silk of the latest kimono she'd donned. It was far more casual then the ones she wore to ceremonial banquets but still much more formal than those of her house staff. Silk blue like a robin's egg, with pink trim. Embroidered ibises and other beadwork curled across its back and down to her feet. It didn't suit the persona she presented as leader of X men red. Her hands formed fists, and she exhaled with the stir-crazy urge that welled up.
The knock at the rice paper screen was a welcome diversion. "Come on in, Kaori," she said distinctly.
Although old customs were not so difficult to remember once she had spent a week at the Yashida complex, Mariko still felt strange having people bowing to her so formally. For the sake of decorum she kept herself from insisting that the perky young servant should stand up and regard her eye to eye. She'd never hear the end of it from Shiro.
Right now she didn't give a damn. "Kaori, you don't have to bow THAT low… I mean you are a lady in waiting, but this is getting cumbersome…"
"I'm sorry… Milady, but tradition…"
"Yes, tradition. I forgot… but you've known me since I was very young. And it is DIFFICULT to come back to so many rules and regulations. It is the 21st century," Mariko sighed. "Honestly, bowing respectfully at the proper height is ONE thing, but remaining there on the floor is NOT necessary protocol."
"Lord Shiro…"
"Lord Shiro isn't here. I'm in charge, and I say that a tilt of the head is enough once I acknowledge you… that's the way it always was wasn't it? HE really has been throwing his weight around hasn't he?"
"Yes… truth be told," Kaori said in a slight whisper. Mariko glanced at the lacquered box that contained her latest gift. Always in Japan most items arrived packaged in something that was just as valuable if not more special than what was contained within.
"Is it done? I'd love to see it… he's in here… I think…" Mariko said.
"Milady, I have what you requested," said Kayori as she brought the box into the sitting room.
"It looks perfect," Mariko nodded as she saw her lady in waiting open the box to show her the contents. Her fingers ran over the unstable molecules that had been stitched painstakingly together in gold, tan and dark brown. Kaori beamed at the pride filling her mistress's face, and met her gaze again.
"Is there anything else you request tonight?" asked Kaori brightly.
"If you could have dinner brought up to my room tonight, that would be perfect," she requested. "And thank you…"
"For what, Milady?" Kaori asked.
"Sometimes I think it is good for you to know how much I appreciate your service… how you and the others here have helped our family for so many years…" she trailed off.
"It is our duty, Milady," Kaori nodded.
"You're my friend Kaori, is what I'm trying to say," Mariko chuckled and shook her head. Coming down off a pedestal was something that was so easy, and yet she felt the unquestioning respect her servants and house staff a bit difficult to accept.
"There is nothing else I'd rather do… the privilege of being here… working in such a beautiful place…"
"It is beautiful… but relax a bit… I'm not going to bite you… we always could talk before… couldn't we?" she asked.
"Yes Milady… but it has been many years, and you are Obayun now… and Lord Shiro and Lord Kenuchio insist you must receive the proper respect…"
Sighing, Mariko changed the subject by asking, "Are the other garments finished?"
"They are still in process at the laboratory. I'm told that they'll be done tomorrow morning. But this one was given top priority. I'm certain your champion will find it fitting…" Kaori quietly said.
"He will, I hope he will," she added hesitatingly. "Thanks… and take the rest of the evening for yourself… you've earned it…"
"Thank you milady," Kaori bowed, and smiled as she retreated.
She turned and glimpsed herself in the mirror that she passed often. In such a place as the ancestral home, most members of the Clan dressed more traditionally in house robes. Beyond that most of the other staff wore fine western style suits, with a Japanese flair. Outside the walls she would wear a fine business suit, or high fashion clothes that befitted a woman of her station. IT was getting downright nerve wracking when all she wanted to do was pull on a pair of jeans and a T shirt, and drink a beer for crying out loud.
A familiar scent reassured her, and she strode towards the balcony, knowing he was most likely there from the smell of cigarette smoke. Marlborough red 100s, she nodded. Unlike the Havana's that he often splurged on, the cigs were his customary brand. Kitty Pryde teased him about looking the part with that blasted hat she'd plunked on his head one day. Logan had endured the teasing when he grudgingly wore the cowboy hat, and everyone remarked how it suited him. He preferred headscarves, baseball caps, or nothing at all. Yet to keep from hurting Kitty's feelings he wore the darn thing, and lately it was the head covering he most frequently grabbed first when going out the door.
His stetsons and steel toed boots bore the same western motif as the thick studded leather belts he enjoyed. He HATED dressing up past what was required, and it had been Kitty's idea YET again for him to try dress up western. That style was something he embraced, and that look on Jean's face had been priceless. Kitty had transformed the Harley dude into an urban cowboy, helping him widen his fashion sense.
Nevertheless seeing him in those ceremonial robes had blown everyone away. Oddly enough it suited him far more than most of the other garb Mariko had seen him wear. While he'd cussed at having to shave off a goatee, he at least finally surrendered the comb over that Gambit tormented him about. Now he stood there looking over the garden with his back to the doorway. Smoke curled up and wreathed his head, mingling into the darkening skies. She picked up the lacquer box and carried it, moving noiselessly to stand somewhere behind where he was.
Something glimmered in his hand as he tossed it up, then let it land on his palm. He tensed, having registered her presence that she was trying not to hide. Yet she knew that she had interrupted some deep moment of introspection, and took a step back.
"Sorry to bother you," she whispered under her breath.
"Ya never do," he answered, not facing her, but knowing she was there. He shoved the trinket into his pocket hastily, and then tipped ash from his cigarette into the ashtray on the ledge.
"I'm glad for that," she said, and then set the box down. She crossed over and reached down for something in a small fridge that she'd insisted should be installed for a particular reason. When she'd grabbed a few bottles of her favorite Labatt's blue she ventured onto the balcony and stood directly behind him. Reaching past she set the bottle to the right of his left boot, leaning on the ledge, then stepped back to twist the cap off the bottle she'd gotten herself, and swallow what was like nectar of the gods.
"Thanks darlin', was wonderin' actually when that'd show up…" he said as he picked up the bottle and easily twisted it open. "So is the elf still campin' out just outside so I don't come outta quarantine? Or do I get a clean bill a' health?"
"You already took a stroll, so I doubt that you can complain about being kept in isolation, love," she laughed, moving up to lean against the railing. "You were supposed to be resting… but I know you were going crazy being cooped up here… do you like the gardens?"
"Holy crap, shoulda known I couldn't get anything past ya…" he said with an embarrassed flush to his cheek that she found endearing. He turned to look at her hiding her mirth, and then allowed himself to laugh.
"Would that I could join you," she exhaled, swallowing more mouthfuls of Labatts and enjoying the momentary buzz of alcohol that suddenly left her stone cold sober.
"What, an' give yer watchdogs a heart attack, heaven forbid," he joked. "But seriously, there's no way in hell I'd let ya go anywhere without someone watchin' ya… preferably me…"
"The gilded cage," she said wistfully, then laughed again. Logan moved over and slid his arms around her from behind, drawing her do lean into his body against the railing.
"Cripes nobody knows more than me how this is freakin' killing ya. Even though ya look damn beautiful in that getup… ya hate all the glitz an' pomp and stuff… doncha? Which is pretty weird, when ya seem so… natural in it all… does things t' me…"
"Glad it does something for you," she chuckled, letting him work his magic to take her away from another mood. "Because I'm fighting the urge to jump off the balcony and go running into the woods…"
"Mmm, sounds perfect," he mumbled, nibbling on her neck. His hands slid up and caressed her breasts, while from behind his chest rumbled. The musk of his pheromones surged around her, igniting her own desire that would soon rage quickly out of control.
"But that would give my poor brother a stroke," she moaned in response to his hands sliding under her robe and dancing over bare flesh.
"Wouldn't THAT be a cryin' shame… but seriously we COULD do it… providin' ya take me with ya…" he purred into her ear.
"I can't…" she hung her head. "Without having a hundred agents or house servants freaking out, Logan…"
"You'd be safe with me, darlin'," he murmured, tugging her head lightly back to give her a kiss. "Unless yer spooked cause of what ya saw happen t' me…"
"Yes and no… I'm scared of what I almost did… I wanted to tear that person to shreds. And I almost did…" she whispered. "Utter rage. I've NEVER had that… you yourself told me to let her go…"
"Only cause you'd get hurt or worse, M'ko…" he said, turning her in his arms. "It's not your look out t' chase down that assassin. You were gonna be killed… an' I couldn't protect ya…"
"How sexist of you, but how true. You may think that Japanese culture is something that's beyond you, but you are far more suited to it than you'd EVER know, love," she whispered.
"C'mon, darlin'… apart from you, I feel like some stupid hick here… with all the rules an' regs. I ain't complaining, because I'm doin' it for a good cause… but seriously… all this nature stuff an' flamin' rules…"
"Nature has its own rules, Logan-chan," she said quietly. "Japanese culture is all about a balance between man and nature. Not subduing it, but tempering strengths and weaknesses. You are a living embodiment of that struggle between man and beast… and it's your mastery of your own self that gives me the courage to know that I won't… won't succumb to my… wildness. All the rules of Bushido are meant to guide and direct anger and emotion into creative forces…"
"But there's a time fer lettin' go. But when I'm bleedin' an unable to protect ya ain't it," he said. "An' sometimes maybe ya SHOULD let that wild side of ya go… especially when it's between the sheets…"
"You think yourself so unlike this culture, but you are so much like it. It is I that sometimes feel that it doesn't suit me…"
"You kiddin, darlin? This feels as much a part of ya as anything else. Doncha realize how lucky ya are to KNOW who you are?" he trailed off.
"What happened to living in the moment, Logan?" she asked, stroking his cheek. "How do you KNOW this is the real me?"
"Cause I know ya. Yer all the things I'm not, darlin'. You're soft where I'm roughing… elegant where I'm a royal cock up. Total opposites… even when yer an X man, yer all about style an' grace, and yer so damn beautiful. Even when yer about ta rip someone's head off… me… I'm sure as hell not beautiful…"
"Loving me for who I am," she almost didn't say. "You're an incredibly wonderful baka, Logan-chan. Dropping everything you know to chase me halfway around the world… giving up your life with the X men…"
"Our life, babe, our life. Yer mine, an' I'm damned if I'm gonna let ya go," he growled possessively. "Besides, how many women beat the crap outta Jeannie for my sake, huh?"
"Ohh, you are going to enjoy seeing her reaction to this revelation, aren't you?" she started to laugh. "I can SEE it in your face, mister…"
With a giddy laugh, Logan swept her up effortlessly in his arms. He kissed her deeply to express his desires flaring to the breaking point. Bliss, joy and happiness so tangible she could almost taste them were flowing everywhere. He was alive, and in her arms, and in her life. Mariko wanted to weep for joy and scream out her own happiness to the entire damned world. To think that the old samurai were extinct, and yet she had found the strong warrior whom could protect her and sweep her off her feet like the old legends.
"So, ya wanna go for that run in the woods?" he teased as he sat down in the nearby rattan chair, and put her on his lap like she weighed nothing. Her instincts told her that he was purposely diverting her attention with sex, bless him.
"You think it's wise with my watchdogs?" she teased.
"Naw, I'm yer champion or whatever right? How'm I supposed t' protect ya if they don't lemmie do my job?" he whispered in her ear. "An' ya gotta give me a tour a this joint. Been ages since I've been on a decent hunt…"
"I could take you horseback riding," she mused. "Providing that Kitty refrains from insisting you wear that cowboy gear…"
"Shit, she's insane…" he groaned. "But that might not be a bad idea. Only damn way I won't get hell from yer cousin an' brother for putting ya at unnecessary risk, but damn I wanna take ya in the woods one of these days… I know it sounds insane, but ya get it…"
"Your wild nature letting my wild nature run free, so to speak?"
"Nobody else I could do that with," he murmured. "It'd freak most people out… but maybe it'd be better to wait till we found whatever the hell tried to off ya."
"That reminds me, I have something for you…"
"Another Japanese custom?" he teased. "Damn, you're spoiling me rotten…"
"It will only take a minute," she said as she leapt off his lap, and he chased after her. She reached down and handed him the lacquered box.
"What's that?" Logan asked, sniffing it suspiciously.
"Funny you should ask. It's something else for you…"
"Not another tradition?" he teased.
"Well it's something else to wear, but it's not as cumbersome as the ceremonial garb. And it's not something you wear to a function," she said. "I've one similar, but I DOUBT that they'll allow me to even THINK of fighting…"
He saw the anger and frustration in her eyes, as she sat there in a simple house robe and glanced over at him. "Well would ya look at that," he mumbled, opening the box and running fabric through his fingers. Brown and gold fabric worked into a design almost identical to one of his X men costumes, which were the usual black and gold.
"Try it on?" she said. "It should fit…"
"Any reason for the colors?"
"Clan colors. You might have joked about those silly flags some of the men wear in full samurai garb… it's sort of a tradition to use them as identification for whatever clan they fight for. As time has gone on, most of the security of the clan's inner guard wears uniforms in these colors. And I doubt that you'll want the X men associated with…"
"Smells like unstable molecules an' all… holy shit…"
"Xavier isn't the only one with access to such technologies," she laughed. "You don't HAVE to wear it…"
"But it'd honor ya if I did," he chuckled. "Damn, it's nicer than my X men threads… don't mind the colors… look like they'd blend in easier than ol' Chuck's stuff…"
"And they are more durable as well. Resistant to blade weaponry. There's a thin coating of carbonadium fibers worked into the surface to give limited resistance to shuriken or crossbow bolts, or conventional bullets…"
"Darlin' that ain't necessary…"
"I know the healing factor takes care of it, but why make it work harder than it has to… and besides, I prefer to be one of the only ones seeing you in the altogether," she teased.
"Got that right…" he murmured, passing the uniform fabric through his fingers. "Damn this is sweet stuff… aww hell… can't wait to try THIS on…"
Indeed the fabric yielded in all the right places just like his X men uniform, but it was more comfortable. Custom fit no doubt, and surprising because there was even a set of gloves that drew on with reinforcements in the wrists that allowed the passage of his claws just like the X man uniform did. Color scheme wasn't something he was overly concerned with, but he admitted to liking this one a whole lot more. He was mainly trying to distract her from the morose brooding she had taken up as of late. Not only was she struggling with the mantle of additional leadership, but something far more primal.
"Exquisite… fit is perfect," she nodded as he showed it off. A series of his traditional moves proved the fabric stretched and gave in all the right places.
"Damn, you should be designin' the gear instead o' Jeannie," he laughed. "Hey… what gives…?"
"Should know better than to try and hide anything from you, love," she said as she glanced at him with worried eyes.
"What… or is it something that you'd get more bummed about by talking?" he asked, sitting next to her on the bed.
"Both and neither… this is all so unexpected. I never asked for any of you to get caught up in family politics…"
"Our choice to do so…" he reminded her. "If anythin' happened to ya I'd never forgive myself…"
She bit her lip and gave him a brave smile. "ANYTHING?" she asked.
"What's got ya so skittish? You worried about what happened when I got… injured… I had a pretty good sense of it from what the others told me. You're scared you'll loose control like me… aren't ya? Well you don't haveta worry because I can help ya with that part… an' how to use it…"
"That's just it, Logan… it's happening… surrounded by guards on all sides, being expected to attend diplomatic functions…t o fight with paper and words instead of with weapons and powers… it's something I'm not accustomed to… and I'm scared I'll forget…" she trailed off.
"Hey… easy," he urged. "Look, all those books ya gave me to read… you can always remember. An' your brother's gonna tell ya what's what whether ya like it or not… but don't give into the fear. So what ya can't remember… so can't I. What matters is what you remember now…"
"You still sure that you want to go through with all this… with me? It's a lot more than you ever bargained for…" she said. "I had no idea it would come to this…"
"Don't care. You're the first person in a long time I ever connected to so strongly… damn…" he said, trying to find the words. "Just as long as I can be with ya, protecting ya… I don't care if it's in east Egypt or Madripoor or here…"
"Even if you do have underwear older then me?" she teased.
"Oh please… age matters t' some I've been around with… but it ain't quite the same when I'm around ya. Not somethin' I can put into words… it's like ya reach parts of my skull I never knew existed… it just feels RIGHT."
"I too feel it," she said, leaning her head on his shoulder. She let her hair down, hanging around her shoulders. "But this is only the beginning…"
"Yeah," he muttered, glancing away. "Um, I guess there's somethin' yer gonna ask me about eventually…"
"That ring you have?" she asked. Logan blinked in surprise.
"Ya know?"
"I saw you playing with it sometimes… just tossing it up and down in the air… a gold band, like a wedding ring. Not exactly Shinto tradition… but universal to all cultures…" she said. "If you don't wish to tell me, I'll respect and honor your privacy…"
"Like that stupid assed agreement to marry ya off…"
"I'm not even going to ask how you know about that… but rest assured it will never happen. My brother put an end to it…"
"Ya were only 16, M'ko… damn… was that how you came t' be in Weapon X?"
"Yes. So you see I'm not the only one with a shadowy past. I don't' remember anything about him. His face… all I recall is Sabretooth…"
"Guess that don't change yer mind about bein' with me… providin' no psycho ex wives show up," Logan mumbled as he got up and took the band of gold out of a small pocket he carried valuables in. He flipped it up and caught it, and saw her walk over to look at it there.
"With all my love, James…" she muttered, glancing at it. "Who's James?"
"Slim said it was in my belongings… the part of the file Sabretooth didn't burn…" he mumbled. "Son of a fuckin' bitch… so ya know WHY I don't give two shits about my past. I haven't GOT A past any more…"
His hand tightened around the wedding band, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Mariko smelled and sensed the anger thinly veiled, and the frustration. Sighing, she let him walk away for a moment.
"I suppose I do get it, more than you could possibly know," she said. "Both of us, confronted by past selves. Old obligations…"
"Yeah. But yer real, M'iko. Whoever gave me this, if it IS mine, isn't around. Meant what I said when I wanted ya for my own. Don't doubt it for a minute…"
"You have me, Logan. I wouldn't have given the honor swords to anyone but the one I loved," she said quietly. "I suppose in some way that negates any past claim on you…"
"Yeah, that's true," Logan said thoughtfully as he saw her pick up the katana, the longest of them. He rested his hand on the hilt beside hers, and glanced at the ring I his other hand. He walked over to the balcony, where a large reflecting pool overlooked, and tossed something into it. Mariko heard a plink and clunk followed by a splash as the wedding band landed in the ceremonial fountain.
"That also isn't a Shinto tradition," she said.
"I hope I didn't do anything dishonorable by it…" he mumbled.
"Not at all," she said, embracing him tightly. "That's where many a guard or lady would toss a coin anyhaps… but I don't' know what sort of wish an old wedding band will grant…"
"I love ya M'ko," he mumbled, and kissed her hard. She felt her tears as she wondered at what he'd just given up.
She knew where it would end when he scooped her up in his arms and carried her inside. With reverence he lay her down on that vast bed, and stood over her, stroking her hair as he stood over her. He pulled out the hair fastenings and admired how her long black cascade flowed down around to frame her face. She reached up to him with both hands, eagerly awaiting his love.
Silk whispered to the floor when she knelt up in the bed. He lay down next to her, and began to strip off the costume he'd been trying out. However he let her have the pleasure of showing him how to undo the fastenings till his appearance matched hers. In wonder she gasped at the gentle touches that seemed so different then the frenetic lovemaking in the past.
Like a dream they came together. Slow and romantic motions of making love under the ancient roof till she lay there in his arms. He pillowed his head on her chest and listened to her heartbeat, whiskers tickling her bare skin.