'Oh, no, everything's like it should be,' Mikage said, with a contented sigh, 'I wish it were always this easy. So, Tomoe, if you please, print out the invite and mail it to her private address- not the store, let's be smooth.'
'Alright,' Tomoe said once more, mechanically, and continued typing, not sparing more than a glance at the file with the invitation he sent to the printer.
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Cousin Yukiji's black cocktail dress looked slightly wrong on her- it was not a revealing kind of dress; just a sleeveless turtleneck that graciously draped to the floor- but it made Nanami look at least five years older than she actually was, and filled her with the fear that someone might mistake her for Yukiji and start talking shop with her. What was she supposed to do, then? Of course, what cousin Yukiji had instructed her to: tell the person in question that she was not actually her cousin, and hand them out Yukiji's business card. It would be fine- then why was she so nervous?
Countless questions that betrayed the root of Nanami's concern flashed through her mind while she inspected herself in the mirror: she'd never been to a gala like this, and she was terrified she'd end up screwing up. She was embarrassed by the thought alone of eating the wrong way, drinking maybe a bit too much (although she thought she'd learnt her lesson about overdrinking… and drinking in general…), snorting like a pig if she laughed, and other silly teenage worries.
That night, everything she did seemed to become a moral dilemma, too. Would she wear flats or high heels? Well, high heels, obviously, right? Well, then, which? What color? She owned a pair of camel-colored ones, but maybe it would be advisable to borrow the shiny black stilettos from Yukiji. Yeah, probably. Well, then, what about her hair? Such a dress needed her to put her hair up in some kind of fancy bun. But, trying it, the mirror gave her back the image of a pretty young woman five years older than the five years that the dress already added to her. It made her look like 30 and single, Sex-and-the-City material. No, it couldn't be. She'd have to let her hair down and risk stepping down a couple of steps in the stairway to glamour.
In the end, she did borrow Yukiji's heels, and parted her hair tastefully with a cute, colorful flower pin that had belonged to her mother, and made her look a bit more her age.
Before leaving she checked her purse, making sure that all that had to be there, was there: ID, invitation, the badge that indicated she was Sengoku Jiidai staff (she'd pin it on later), a good camera (very important!) and, of course, lip gloss, cotton pads in case she needed to touch up her make-up, a tiny can of pepper spray, and some mint chewing gum.
While she waited for the cab in the foyer of Yukiji's silent house, she found herself torn between the excitement that came with having to attend such a fancy reception, and the dread she felt at the prospect of ruining the store's image.
She found herself wishing that her cousin had not gotten sick at all- when the invitation had arrived, Yukiji had almost been sure that she'd get well enough to be able to make it to the event. But then she'd felt well enough that she'd spent a whole afternoon in the freezing warehouse where they stored their merchandise, selecting and hauling huge rolls of fabric onto the truck that would take them to the store. And the following day she'd suffered a pretty strong relapse that had kept her bed-ridden for the last day and a half.
And although she was better, she was in no way fit enough to be ambling around in party gear just yet.
Nanami fiddled nervously with the string of her purse. She wished her cousin had told her a bit more about the reception than "the customer invited us to take the pictures for ourselves. I trust your taste, Nanami, and remember- it's better to have too many pictures than too little. And enjoy the fancy, free smoothies for me!".
She distracted herself with the thought of watermelon smoothies- would they serve those? Or, even better… what if they had designer-ice-cream?
When the cab arrived, Nanami's thoughts had been pleasantly filled with the promise of sweets and milkshakes, and her worries had been confined to a dark corner of her mind, where she didn't pay them any attention any more.
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Mikage and Tomoe made for an eye-catching duo. They made a point never to attend formal galas in a suit, because it made them look too stuck-up to be graphic designers (and maybe even mistaken for yakuza, God forbid it), and they liked the studio to be associated with unstructured professionalism. Both of them were very attentive towards details- as Mikage always liked to say, 'what you show is what people see'.
Mikage was wearing an impeccable, gray Armani suit-jacket, with an old-pink rose elegantly tucked into his breast pocket, cushioned by a cream-colored handkerchief; and elegant, black dress slacks. Tomoe, who was very fond of traditional clothing, and whose youth and general good looks allowed to get away with wearing almost anything, had opted for grey dress slacks, a faded-blue kimono, a stylish, deep-blue haori jacket with an embroidered pattern of leaves and branches, and black scarf loosely wrapped around his (ghostly pale) neck.
They companionably made their way across the room, greeting the key organizers from the Harusame firm, and other significant people of their acquaintance.
More than once, Mikage had to tactfully rescue Tomoe from overenthusiastic women who were awestruck by his associate's impeccable taste in traditional clothing. But such things often happened to them, and made Tomoe like Mikage all the better.
They'd been discussing for a while the importance of actual raw shrimps in certain martini-like cocktails with the head-chef, who had snuck out of the kitchen to greet some guests and get a couple of breaths of fresh air (and a tall glass of champagne), when Tomoe spotted the beautiful journalist Lydia Narukami over by the bar.
He frowned, and figured that in less than half an hour he'd be losing his business associate to the wiles of the woman "he'd sworn he'd make his wife, some day..." (probably the day when she stopped scorching him with thunderous death-glares- Mikage was an awful flirt and his pick-up lines were disastrous. But, Tomoe had faith in him. If anything, the man was persistent… and way too humble.)
They were rewarded by the head chef for their interesting suggestions; and, true to his prediction, half an hour later Tomoe found himself with a sophisticated martini glass with a cocktail with a bright, cherry shrimp floating in it in his hand, and his associate lost to the enchantment of the 'Lady Thunder', as Narukami's coworkers in her magazine had dubbed her.
He sipped his beverage, trying to ascertain whether he liked it or not (so far, in his opinion, the best that one could do with a shrimp was soup….), idly gazing around the tea house.
They'd done a damn fine job, if he could say so. The guys in charge of the lighting had not been bad, either.
The atmosphere was urbane and refined, and the low amber lights gave it a touch of suave mystery that he thought was a great addition to the ambient.
He was pretty proud of the outcome as a whole. And the cuisine was also impeccable.
All in all, Tomoe was in a pretty pleased mood; and, deciding to ditch that strange drink in favor of a clear glass of reliable, scented sake, he leisurely strolled around the place, looking for a good spot to sit down and enjoy himself quietly.
He stayed there for a while, accepting every refill that the beautiful waitresses offered him (and they seemed to flutter around him quite a lot, so he got plenty refills), and watched the people come and go and mingle. He didn't think about the owner of the Sengoku Jiidai store, who had been most definitely invited, and he had yet to see in the reception, until his eyes spotted a petite girl taking pictures of the embroidered fabrics that superbly adorned the walls.
She wasn't facing him, so all that he could see of her was that she was wearing really high heels, and still looked rather short. Shrugging, he turned his attention elsewhere, until a voice, which seemed to be slightly raised with annoyance, and sounded suspiciously familiar (he could not, however, recognize where he'd heard it before) rang near enough that he could follow the conversation, and, when he'd heard enough, he was quick to find the source of the voices and make sense of the scene unfolding.
'Sir, I must insist that you let go of me. I'm underage, anyway, so I couldn't take you up on that offer.'
'But, pretty lady, one drink would do you no harm, would it?'
'I might have reconsidered if you were not holding my wrist like that,' she said, curtly, 'Kindly let me go, please.'
Tomoe was never the knight-in-shining armor type of guy. He was the let-the-woman-sort-it-out-herself type of guy. Or so he'd believed right until he found himself standing up and striding over to where the middle-aged, more-than-tipsy businessman was holding a slim girl's wrist a bit too snugly. He didn't even allow himself time to be surprised at his own actions:
'Hey, woman,' he cut in, smoothly, 'where were you?'
'Oh? I? Me?' she said, confused.
Not giving her time, or himself for that matter, to think it through too much, he eased the man's grip off her, and, with his hand in the small of her back, he guided her away from the rather dumbfounded man, only offering him an insincere 'Thanks for your help,' over his shoulder.
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'It was a lousy excuse, that one,' Tomoe commented off-handedly, as he discreetly eyed the girl that now sat across him, in a quiet set of divans in a corner.
'Maybe,' she said, cheekily, 'But it was true. I'm underage.'
'You didn't seem to think so when I first met you,' Tomoe said, smirking tersely.
'I know,' she said, with a sigh, 'But I learned my lesson that night. I've not drunk a drop of alcohol ever since.'
'Skirting around the problem won't make the problem go away,' he remarked.
She huffed. 'What problem would that be?'
'That you can't hold your liquor,' he replied, smoothly.
'Gosh, I remembered you way less annoying,' she muttered, 'Why are we having this conversation, anyway?'
Tomoe was about to give her a silver-tongued answer, but a waitress cut in by asking if he'd maybe like more sake. He accepted with the ghost of a scowl, and was about to order another glass of sake for his lady friend, but decided against it. 'What will you have?' he asked her, instead.
'Oh, I…' her previous defiance seemed to deflate, and Tomoe saw her fluster mildly and ask the waitress if, maybe, they had watermelon smoothies. The waitress said they did, most certainly, and, flashing Tomoe a condescending smile that didn't sit too well with him, left to get the girl her drink.
'I think we started on the wrong foot, tonight', she said, meekly. 'I'm sorry about being a bit snappy, but that guy out there, he freaked me out. Thanks for stepping in.'
'No problem,' he said, nonchalantly, trying not to dwell on how endearing he suddenly found her, 'I'm surprised to see you here'.
'Well, yes, cousin Yukiji was supposed to attend, but she was feeling really awful and she couldn't make it, so I came in her place…'
Tomoe stared pensively at her, not really paying much attention to what she was saying.
'What's your name?' he cut in.
'Eh… I'm sorry…?'
'Your name,' he said again. Gosh, she blushed too much.
'Nanami. I'm Nanami…' she suddenly felt like she wanted the floor to swallow her up. She was such a dense person! She'd not even introduced herself properly, and this guy had saved her two times already…!
'It's pretty,' he said, simply, 'I'm Tomoe'.
She smiled- it was as nice as he remembered it. He realized he was beginning to smile when the waitress brought Nanami her drink, and straightened his face before he could make a fool out of himself. What was he thinking? He actually seemed not to be thinking at all, damn it.
'I'm a bit disappointed that they don't serve ice-cream here. What kind of a tea house is it?'
'A tea house,' Tomoe answered, blankly.
Nanami blinked, slowly, and then, slowly, she began to chuckle, and laugh, eventually.
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Author's Notes:
I wanted to thank you all for your amazing support. This fandom is made up of really cool people! :D I'm also glad that you don't feel that this story is too non-magical! Your comments really motivated me to update fast :D
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As you can tell, I had fun with their clothes. What Tomoe is wearing is basically his blue haori/ black scarf clothes, but with slacks and a real-world feel. It's okay, I also laughed at the mental image of Mikage in an Armani jacket.
If you're wondering who Lydia Narukami is, she'd be the Thunder Goddess that turned Tomoe into a whelp of a kid and caused Nanami and folks a lot of trouble with Ookuni-nushi's stolen mallet xD I just needed a romantic interest for Mikage, obviously Otohiko was most definitely out of the question, hahaha xD (he's like a family friend). I gave her the name 'Lydia' because that's the name of her voice actress in English. She's such a dramatic woman that I totally picture her changing her Japanese name for a "flashy" one like 'Lydia' :F
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Special thanks to Ai Star, Foxes-Rock, tsuki-suna, HarmonySteel, Hana-Liatris and Myahle for their lovely reviews :)