Chapter 8
Disclaimer: Read every chapter before this, save for the one with the M scene, and its disclaimer and you'll save me the time. Also, adult content, drug use is around. Discretion advised, yadda yadda.
The pre-dawn rays of the sun gave colour and light to what would be a dreary almost-morning of Shinto Teito, due to a faint fog rolling throughout the city from the oceanside. For one Hanatarou Tanaka, whose house he wisely had built on an elevated foundation and from the balcony of his (now apparently) shared bedroom, allowed him a fair view, considering skyscrapers and smaller apartment and office complexes were in the way. A hand-rolled cigarette was lazily hanging from his lips as he took a deep drag, curiously holding his breath, unless one knew what was really within the rice paper.
A free hand slowly scratched between his bare shoulder blades as he rose from a stool and stretched as much as he could, still trying to shake off his post-sleep lethargy. Hanatarou had made a habit of sneaking out of bed to enjoy a moment of solitude whenever he could; the jay was merely a spur of the moment thing, although not an unwelcome way to start his day. He sat down again and got to enjoying his hand-made labours until it burnt out, or so he somewhat hoped he would.
A faint sliding noise came from the glass door to his left and Uzume emerged, as naked as the day she was born. She smiled beatifically once she spotted her Ashikabi and walked mercurially over, swashaying her hips in a way no straight man could ignore. She fluidly sat upon Hanatarou's lap and leaned in to kiss him but was stopped by a finger that smelled like his jay's substance, "Not that I don't want to, but your wings will be way too noticeable out here," he said apolegetically, kissing both her cheeks as penance and began to work his way down her neck with little flutter kisses upon her flawless flesh.
Uzume giggled, wrapped her arms around his neck as his mouth captured a hard nub and suckled it like a babe, "It's 'kay, stud. Ya'll give me plenty before breakfast," she said, voice still drenched in sleep's weight.
With an audible pop that earned a light gasp from the Veiled Sekirei, Hanatarou pulled his mouth away to speak, "Going to be a quick breakfast though. It's my last day at work today and I'd hate to be late for my farewell party. Oh, I'll be out later than usual. Not overtime late but definitely after regular hours late," he informed his passionate housemate, taking a drag of the half-finished joint.
Uzume hummed noncommitally and tilted her head slightly as she watched Hanatarou smoke, "Why do ya smoke that? I'm not complainin', at least it's not that icky smellin' tobacco shit, I'm jus' curious," she explained a little quickly, somehow afraid her inquiry would upset him in some way.
Hanatarou raised his free hand to stroke his chin, obviously gathering himself before answering, "Stress relief that doesn't involve us bumping uglies, although in your case it should be called beau-no, not the right word...a work of art? A masterpiece? O~oh, I got it! A pretty! Now I can quote the Wicked Witch of the West and it'll make some sense! Booyah!" he whisper-shouted his victory, shooting his hands upwards in a silly winner's pose and smile. Uzume visibly endeavoured to withhold her laughter behind both hands, the jiggle of her mounds caused by said efforts distracting Hanatarou only momentarily before continuing, "Where was I? Oh yeah, helps with my appetite, which I surprisingly need. I kinda forgot to eat a lot before you came along, especially on my days off because I'd manically play my piano until my ass was sore from that damned bench. You know, there were some nights where I had to crawl down my own stairs to stave off starving because my legs were that asleep? Shit was crazy!" He exclaimed as he shook his head at his own idiocy, Uzume laughing freely now. Hanatarou let her settle down a bit befote continuing, "And it puts me in a different state of mind. Before I met you two I was on my own a lot. Some problems are solved faster when you've got someone with a different mindset to bounce ideas off of, but since this place was a house of solitude, I had no one to really talk to. So, I light up one of these, listen to some J*ff*rs*n **rpl*n* or something like that and I'm more silver than Horseman. Wait that's not right..." he trailed off, trying to remember the right words as Uzume digested his words sobering up from her mirth at the admission of loneliness from her loved one.
Hanatarou was broken out of his reverie by having his head pressed into Uzume's divine valley, a hand each stroking his hair and back, "Well ya won' be alone anymore lover. Matsu 'n I'll make sure of that," she whispered lovingly as she pressed his face deeper.
She felt rather than saw the smile on Hanatarou's face, "Thank you," he said simply, somewhat muffled by her chest. He turned her around so she faced the same direction he was, somehow reviving the cherry upon his jay as they basked in the silence of each others' company.
Uzume was struck with a sudden impulse and acted upon it: She plucked the joint from her Ashikabi's lips and mimicked his lips, rolling them back within her mouth, placed it between her lips and inhaled slowly. The burn was almost completely negligible as Hanatarou gulped silently, figuring she'd need an even larger serving at breakfast which kind of scared, inspired curiosity and amused him; the curious part, what his mother would call his inner mad scientist was delighted to see the effects such a substance would have on an alien. Amazingly, she had burned it to the near end, Hanatarou quickly flicking the nub out of her mouth lest she burn her perfect lips. Like a blast furnace, a large cloud emerged from her lips and nostrils, obscuring her face from his view until she eventually ran out of exhaust to exhume, as she turned her head about slightly, as if expecting something, "I don' feel anythin'," she stated, sounding a little disappointed.
"Give it a few minutes, it'll sneak up on you," he informed her as he pulled out a second jay from behind his right ear, "Care to join me for another?"
Uzume readily agreed and got off him as he made to stand; the sun was on the precipice of rising and he wanted to witness it, despite the distraction a fully nude Veiled Sekirei presented. He pressed his chest flush against her back as his boxers found themselves running out of room quickly, much to the Wagtail's delight, "Hoh? Gonna bend me over the balcony this time?" she whispered in a lusty tone.
He chuckled through the now lit joint as her hips wiggled against him in a tantilizing fashion, "Unfortunately not a good idea. Matsu needs her wedding night too and while I'm up for the challenge, you put a dent in my gun's ammo at least. Matsu wants at least as many shots as you got so, I hate to say no," he leaned forward and rumbled the next words in her ear, "especially when I don't want to..." she shuddered, sorely tempted to remove the measly piece of cloth stopping another round of hip-slapping, toe-curling bliss, but she withheld her baser nature with a herculean effort.
"Speakin' of wedding nights," she turned around and embraced her Ashikabi, "Ya didn't hold anythin' back, huh? With the way ya were poundin' me, I swear ya were tryin' ta knock me up on our first night together," she murmured with lusty undertones streaking about her voice, hands being as frisky as they liked, roaming about his chest, shoulders and back as they pleased as she admired her mark of claim on his neck.
"The way your ankles locked behind me at the end, everytime, I could've sworn that's what you wanted?" Uzume's face flushed nearly crimson as her Ashikabi pressed on with a grin, "And let's not forget who cried out, 'Give it to me!' that second round. Sure as hell wasn't me and the only other person in the room was yo~u!" he said cheekily, a finger prodding her sides lightly.
The Veiled Sekirei groaned in embarrassment, "Alright, geez! I guess hearin' Matsu go on 'bout yer 'hot and sticky DNA' got ta me. Jus' stop makin' fun of me already!" she said in mild exasperation.
Hanatarou was tempted to grill her a little more but figured he'd have his fun later and relented, "Alright, but remember! I may make fun of you, but I do it with love," he said softly as he rubbed her back placatingly.
Uzume's smile returned near instantly and she made to kiss him again but was stopped by a lone finger, "Ah-ah! Your wings will shoot out of my balcony and that's going to be impossible to explain to the neighbors," he chided her lightly.
Uzume groaned in discontent this time, pouting and trying to make eye contact with the imfamous Kicked Puppy Look (Female & Small Cute Creature/Child only skill. Effect: Wears down any mental/emotional resistance at a rate that varies with the target's alignment and overall cuteness of the user).
Hanatarou was on to her game and made a valiant effort to turn his gaze away, a near futile endeavour as #10 was literally surrounding him, using the balcony, wall and glass door as foot and handholds so as to extend her body forward to keep her face at least at his peripherals, gradually widening her eyes further and further.
"Alright, stop! No more! Here's a compromise! I denied you two kisses, I'll give you four before breakfast! Now put those eyes away!" he surrendered gracelessly, having been thoroughly defeated and, although he'd never admit it, a poor loser.
"Hoh? So fer ev'ry kiss I don' get now, I get two later? Sounds like an investment I'd love ta make!" she declared, as she had taken to pouncing full-bodied upon Hanatarou, attempting to snag a kiss.
"Kami dammit, my business sense is rubbing off on you! I'm so proud and exasperated at the same time!" He cried out his duality of emotions, defending his poor, poor lips.
~War...war never changes, but scenes do~
Matsu was in her element. Fingers danced over a keyboard as a mouse cursor moved without a mouse; something she picked up after being winged and once she enters what professional sports players, musicians and the like would refer to as The Zone.
All four monitors were busy with different things: One showed a map of Shinto Teito with several blips scattered about of varying colours as it updated in real time. Some were grouped together, particularly in two of the four cardinal directions. Another monitor showed search results for yesterday's inquiry of potential safehouses; Matsu understood what was happening with the groups to the South and East, and while not as quickly, in their West side as well. Certain Ashikabi's flocks were growing in number, and rather quickly at that. She believed setting up safehouses in those areas would be asking for trouble, which made essentially half of the city unavailable for potential refuge. A part of her appreciated Hanatarou's proactive planning but she thought it was a bit much to have three safehouses when he had it right with the first (and what she believed should be the only) idea of Izumo Maison.
Alas, her mind and this writer as well digress. She continued to do the small job she volunteered for, as the remaining two were doing Matsu things, "Huhuhu~h!" #02 chuckled in her old-man fashion as some random couple whom were feeling particularly amorous in a location they believed no one could see fell prey to her peeping ways. Her eyes lit up behind the glare of her glasses and her hands slapped to her face and she squealed and turned from side to side in her seat as things took their natural course for the couple. "O~h, how bo~ld! Even if it's on the rooftop, schools do have cameras up there, you kno~w? Don't worry, Matsu set up a loop of the last three minutes so no interuptions for yo~u!"
"Peepin' again, Matsu? Ma~n, if Miya were here, ya'd get the Ladle of Death on yer noggin 'till ya get KO'd, ya know?" Uzume sauntered in, having had her fill of making and adjusting her latest outfit. Hanatarou wanted video game cosplay? Well he's in for a treat.
Matsu gave her rival in love the meanest stink-eye she could manage, "Here to brag, Uzu-tan? The battle has been lost but the war has just begun!" Uzume made to interrupt but #02 was all fired up, to say the least, "Mark Matsu's words, Uzu-tan, for one day Matsu will start an amazing porn site with Hana-tan and then we'll TAKE OVER THE WORLD!" #02 put real emphasis on the last four words for dramatic purposes.
At this point, Uzume withstood Matsu's venting and, partly in thanks to her naturally laid-back nature but mainly because she is now well under the effects of arguably the world's greatest cash crop, let her shoot all the hot air she needs to, ranging from how Hanatarou will be the one limping once she was done and how Uzume would eat the leftovers out of her. At some point #10 made a tactical retreat to fetch refreshments from the kitchen and came back at roughly the same time Matsu was finishing up.
"Hey, did ya really keep ramblin' after I left?" Uzume asked through a partial mouthful of gala apple while she pointedly handed a glass of oolong tea to the winded technologic sorceror.
The redhead eyed the glass suspiciously, as she hadn't been facing her peeping monitors to see whether Uzume tampered with it. Then she figured if the Veiled Sekirei really wanted her gone she'd be a lot more up front about it. Like with a cloth spear, a H*mm*r W**v* or something along those lines. Once she downed the drink with haste (rambling made one thirsty, who knew?), "How rude, Uzu-tan wins the Hana-tan bowl and has the gall to leave mid-loser's rant!" #02 pressed her head to the wall and essentially noogied herself, "Oh, Matsu is in despair! The irrelevancy of Matsu's woes has left Matsu in despair!
In another universe, Itoshiki-sensei didn't sneeze, because this isn't that kind of story, even if this segment completely goes against that.
Uzume, for her part, kept right on eating out of the armful of apples she carried with her at a steady yet quick pace. Matsu furrowed her brow in confusion, "Didn't we have lunch less than half an hour ago, Uzu-tan? We Sekirei have quite the appetite by comparison to humans but isn't that a bit much?"
The Veiled Sekirei didn't make the logic jump most human women would make, ignore the question and then ask back 'Are you calling me fat?' and merely shrugged, "Can't help it. Hanatarou called it 'The Munchies' an' said he'd go grocery shoppin' ta help me out with 'em when he came back. He said somethin' 'bout fruit bein' the best cure, although I dunno why he phrased it like that, I don' feel sick at all! Man, these taste so~ go~od!" She said joyfully, once again through mouthfuls of apple, making noises of appreciation throughout.
Matsu shook her head, even more puzzled by Uzume's actions. She likes food as much as the next alien avian descendant but this was a bit much she feels. "Uzu-tan's acting a tad strange. Are you well? Do you have brain damage?" For some odd reason, one could hear a small, gentle voice not belonging to either Wagtail saying 'Staff~, staff~' after she posed her questions, which neither Sekirei noticed.
Normally, when one is asked whether they have brain damage when they don't, it is more often than not considered offensive.
Uzume must have missed the memo however, as the barb was deflected off her Barrier of Not-Giving-A-Fuck (Were you expecting a DnD style description, including stats, effects and equip requirements? If so, you're going to be mildly disappointed). "Nah, I'm good," she answered simply, this time with mouth clear of juicy obstructions as she had polished off her penultimate red spherical fruit of Eve's bane.
"Well, what does Uzu-tan want then?" #02 asked rudely as she turned back to her monitors and got back to her element.
"Ge~ez, try ta keep the joy outta yer voice, will ya? Ya'll make me blush," she said in an amused fashion, well aware as to why she's being stiffed.
Matsu's frown would prove to be perpetual for the time being, "Hmph!" she hmph'd.
"Oi, oi, pull the stick outta yer ass, sista. I ain't here ta gloat. Jus' wanted a civil word, between sisters of the pole," she said airily.
The Sekirei of Wisdom's frown deepened but #10 knew what was coming, "C'mon Matsu, yer as good as screwed, in a good way. Might as well include ya in the two-member club already," the Veiled Sekirei told her partner-in-crime.
As much as Matsu wished to refuse, a part of her, she knew, would be sick with herself if she did so: Were it not for Uzume's full assistance (and whatever convenient distraction happened to rock MBI at the same day and time as the pair's planned snatch and run operation), Matsu would've never escaped (hell never would have even got to the Jinki) and most likely would've been disciplined in a manner that would gain Karasuba's grudging seal of approval. Matsu gestured for her sister to continue.
A rather sharp change in vibe had passed over the two Wagtails, in rather blatant contrast to the slightly stiff yet peaceable air from before as Uzume gathered herself before speaking, "Hanatarou was bein' serious, ya know?"
Matsu took her glasses off as the tension spiked, "About ending the Plan his way? Yeah. Yeah he was," she said simply as she crossed her legs and fixed her steady gaze upon #10. Uzume suddenly felt as if Hanatarou was in the room and in front of his piano when a particular part of a song doesn't sound satisfactory to him. For one who doesn't know that feeling, another way to describe the sensation would be as if a Drill Sergeant was glaring a hole through a toilet a maggot was supposed to be scrubbing clean for the most miniscule imperfections.
Uzume suddenly chuckled a bit, although it did little to ease the tense atmosphere, "He sounds so sure he can change the shitty situation we're in, ya know? I can' help but believe it'll work out, ya know? Him and us two Sekirei against the world..." Uzume lied down and grinned lightly before continuing, "Ain't that a romantic tale fer the ages?"
"Three. Another Sekirei has been reacting to Hanatarou for a short while now. With the details I've been given from our Ashikabi, I think I narrowed down who it is," behind Matsu's back, a monitor had an MBI profile of a #87 Kaho pop up, complete with the full tuner's report of her overall growth and adjustment to Earth with footnotes on the side, basic personality info, her three sizes and even combat stats, done in ***e-*oo* fashion.
Uzume rose from the floor in order to approach and examine said dossier, "'Luck: B?' Who tha fuck is nuts enough ta try an' put a value on somethin' as random as that?!" she exclaimed incredulously.
Matsu merely quirked an eyebrow and dryly answered with one word, just as Uzume came to and voiced the same conclusion: "Minaka," the Wagtails said in stereo.
"Crazy bastard," #02 said with a touch of heat as she shook her head.
"Amen, sista," #10 added with sass.
"Getting back on topic, I wish I had as much faith as you. Not to say I'm doubting Hanatarou, I'm just a but more skeptical things will be as smooth as you believe. Regardless, we'll do it because we have to," Matsu stated with a strange tenseness, which Uzume caught.
"Sounds kinda ominous," the Veiled Sekirei quipped.
"He's already decided it's our game plan. At this point, what can we do but follow his lead?" Matsu tacked on in response.
"Ya got a point there," she said kind of lazily.
"That's all you have to say? 'Ya got a point there?' Aren't you concerned with what's about to go down in this town?" A sense of humour serious Matsu does have.
"Geez, makin' little rhymes in contrast to your frown? Besides, we're supposed ta be speakin' Japanese, ya know? What we just flowed only makes sense in English," she threw back slyly.
"Ple~ase. As if the readers give a flying shit. They're mainly here in hopes of their denied threesome scene," she said with a hint of a scathing tone.
Uzume cocked her head then nodded, "Makes sense. We'd make one helluva book porn series, ya know? I'd read 'bout our sexcapades if I wasn't me," she admitted with no sliver of shame before sobering up a bit, "'Nuff channelin' our inner D**dp**l, we got shit ta discuss an' a man ta have a threesome with, an' it kinda has ta be in that order, since he ain't here 'n all."
"Well Uzume, the ball is in your court," the Sekirei of Wisdom reminded her to-be sister of the pole.
"Yeah, yeah, tryin' ta remember what ya said, keep yer panties on," said Uzume in a slightly absent manner with a lazy wave of a hand.
Matsu wordlessly pulled a Bowie knife out of nowhere and stuck it between her teeth, put on a blood-red headband then lifted the flap of her cheong-sam.
"It was a figure of speech!" Uzume replied while shaking her head, mildly exasperated at Matsu's antics. "Well, yeah that was all I had ta say on the matter. Kinda all I still got too, dunno why yer expectin' an add-on..." #10 trailed off as she shrugged.
"Seriously? Let's fuck the world's biggest and arguably most shady corporation's plan involving the entirety of our race, who will be fighting us the whole way, with a little elbow grease and hope? We don't even know the whole plan! That's like trying to build a bridge without blueprints, or driving a tank without reading the manual, it just doesn't happen!" #02 pressed her point with (not anger, just simply) heat.
Once again the THC in her bloodstream shines on like a crazy diamond, "Well shit, that's kinda why I ain't the brain-type sista, thinkin' 'bout this shit ain't my forté. 'Sides, I believe in Harv-"
"Oh come on, that one doesn't even make sense!" Matsu tsukommi'd the boke with all the frustration one can imagine, sans the harisen.
"Sure it does! 'Cept our Harvey ain't gonna lose his shit over a reporter that ain't even that cute an' won't get half his face melted off. Ya think he'd lettuce (for the non-Engrish population, 'let us') call 'im Harvey? I kinda think it'd suit his smart ass..." Uzume asked with almost childlike curiosity, head tilted to the side with a finger at her lips.
Matsu had her face in both palms.
"I'll take that as a no."
~(scene) Break into Topple into Daze~
Benitsubasa is not happy.
Big surprise, right? Not like the scowl/pout (depending on whom one would ask), the extreme amount of replacement orders for custom-made exercise equipment for the Disciplinary Squad's private usage, whose weight measurement went in several hundreds of kilos a notch as opposed to singles and tens, the larger than usual influx of scientists and aides getting experimental deafness cures implemented on them or the dramatic increase in emasculated and hospitalized security guards all along the MBI (watch)tower the past week were any indication.
No sirree. Not at all a hint towards the Crimson Sekirei's temper.
Minaka, of course, knew the moment Beni-hime ran off to act independently and was about to send Yume to give her a slap on the wrist for splattering a competitor too early when the satellites noticed her speedy return, as if she caught on to her bad idea mid-way. This was the only reason she was allowed to retain her provisional spot with the DS, albeit on thin ice.
Once she arrived and dealt with the inevitable fallout as best as she could (it involved almost beating the stuffing out of Haihane in the beginning of a spar, to the point where the fight once again became serious, making Yume's timely intervention being actually necessary before one or the other killed their opponent), she essentially got saddled as the Director's personal gopher.
As one could imagine, she did not enjoy her new role very much.
Never let it be said Benitsubasa couldn't learn quickly without motivation however. After nearly having an anuerysm the first three days under Minaka's beck and call, she took surprisingly effective mental notes as to the usual orders he'd make: How he takes his coffee, how little he cares about lunch and how more often than not it will go skipped and even when he heads to the top of the tower to overlook the city dramatically. That last part was her favourite, what with the lack of an insane, cape-wearing nuisance to ruin that particular part of her day.
It was in one of those moments of solace she found herself seated at a bench on a balcony overlooking the main lobby of the grand building she lived in, with a strawberry P*cky stick dangling from her lips much like a cigarette would from a weary salaryman's own mouth. The faint patter of other gophers like herself running to and fro, the clattering of the receptionists' keyboards, the rare cough from the guards and all the mish-mash of conversations being carried out were so beyond being background noise to her, she almost didn't notice the light boot steps approaching.
Benitsubasa turned to see none other than #08 Yume, the Sekirei of Fate standing in all her lithe, athletic glory. While the Crimson Sekirei would never utter it aloud, she felt a mild camraderie with the Scrap Number, considering both of their bust sizes are on the slighter side of the boobie spectrum as opposed to the rest of their race, plus the respect she held for her fabled defense of Karakura Island alongside Karasuba. That didn't stop #105 from hating the everloving shit out of her though.
"Benitsubasa! How are you!? Are you enjoying your springtime of youth?!" Yume shouted boisterously with a face-splitting grin that would match a green spandex-wearing taijustu expert's own, complete with shiny sparkly teeth (Ch*p Skyl*rk would be proud) and even the 'Sheeeen!' SFX.
And that is mainly why Beni-hime would lovingly pulverize Yume to a pulp if possible. She is the personification of obnoxious. And even worse, where mama duck goes...
"Yume-shishou! Have you fou-" Bubbly, busty, beautiful Musubi, with all her absurd curves rounded the corner and her eyes widened at the sight of her favourite sparring partner and best friend (aside from Yume-shishou and Karasuba-sama, of course!) Benitsubasa, "Beni-chan! Hi~!" The bundle of perpetual joy and cause of increased blood pressure amongst men bounced over and waved with a copious amount of energy. "Is the Professor doing his 'dramatic poshturing' again?"
"Musubi! It's pronounced posturing!" Yume corrected her student sharply before she could proceed to babble in true airheaded fashion.
Musubi however, like some ditzes, isn't all that receptive to criticism and immediately her eyes grew inhumanly large and began to fill with unshed tears as her lower lip quivered like a naked mole rat feeling the piercing winter breeze for the first time, giving the clichéd 'kicked puppy,' 'clubbed seal,' 'scorched by fireworks cat,' etc., feel, "I'm sorry, did I do something bad?" Musubi said in a manner fitting the purple patch's description of a few lines past.
"You must strive to improve your speaking of and writing Japanese, just as you do with martial arts! A master isn't simply someone who can split a building in half with her little finger, it is a state of mind where everything you do is skillfully done!" Yume declared loudly as she clenched her right fist, the material of her glove tightening audibly.
Once Musubi showed up, Benitsubasa noticably tensed and had been essentially smoldering in place. She showed patience in hopes of waiting the noisy pair out, like one would a heavy storm. Unfortunately for her, their upcoming shenanigans would light the fuse to her powder keg.
"Of course! How could Musubi be so stupid?! Oh Yume!" #88 then dashed forward and embraced her mentor, to the secret delight of any male with a line of sight on the fan-service-y scene.
"Oh Musubi!"
"Yume!"
"Musubi!"
"Yu-!? Hey, where'd Benitsubasa go?" she asked as she pulled away from her embrace (and pressing of their breasts somewhat, to the still secret appreciation of a few guards as now they weren't mushed together as hard) with Yume a bit.
"She must've slipped away as we relished in the-"
~Pretty sure you guys can tell where that's going~
Audibly gritting teeth. The slapping of her boots upon the tile floor echoing louder than an executioner's footsteps down a stone hallway echoed. Visible veins upon the pink-haired spitfire's head and forearms. And most noticeably was how every guard acted. Imagine the guards' eyes emitted lasers, and not the lethal kind mind you. The kind you can see with smoke and trigger alarms in spy movies, AKA the kind management is too lazy to look up the name of. Their hypothetical laser eyes would pass over everything in sight, with the exception of a radius of approx. 40 centimetres around #105's position. In that strange, mobile sphere of influence there isn't a damn thing to see there, nothing at all.
All of the above describe an angry Benitsubasa's path of fury and bloodlust without lovely volunteers to help her deal with it and the kettle was whistling. Time to serve some tea (and for you dense motherfuckers, cryptic metaphor: Beni angry, Beni smash).
The door leading to the DS's training wing was opened (read: punched out of the way) to reveal Karasuba going through her sword forms as a light work-out. Of course, what justifies as a light work-out for the Black Sekirei is more like a human master swordsman trying his hardest to cut the very air around him while under the threat that should he fail to do so, every young man in his bloodline will be castrated with a dull spoon and every young woman sold to the highest bidder. So, as one could imagine, Karasuba's sword work was bloody fast, with the added effect of her doing everything in a relaxed manner to make it look cooler on top of it all.
Karasuba, already well used to an irritable (to say the least) Beni-hime joining her for a round or twenty (depending on how annoying Minaka was), didn't so much as twitch when she split half of a door, flying not at her but close enough in the general direction of her kodachi, in two by coincidence. She merely finished her kata and turned with a eye-closing smile as three parts of a door loudly caused havoc behind her, "Yo, Beni-hime. Minaka being his usual, sunny self again?" she asked lightly as she approached, sheathing her blade.
Benitsubasa checked her gloves then stretched lightly as she answered in unladylike grunts, "The usual. Saw Musubi."
Karasuba nodded sagely as she uttered an "Ah," in response. While she knew Benitsubasa wasn't a fan of her bubbly friend, she could care less as their relationship was their own. Wordlessly she headed over to where her black DS haori rested draped over a bench and reached into its pocket to procure a pack of spare hairbands. She tied the elastics around the loops on her sheath and her blade's crossguard on either side and gave it a few strong test swings. After feeling satisfied she won't draw unintentionally, she got into her ready position and her eye-closing smile widened, "Ready?" she asked her younger protegé.
Another grunt and raised fists were the starting bell to round #undefined. A low yet lightning quick dash forward with her guard raised was the Crimson Sekirei's opening move as Karasuba maintained position patiently with a relaxed looking stance. Benitsubasa was wise to the fact the posture was relaxed merely in appearance and side-stepped the sharp down slash then was forced to jump the low horizontal swing and had to crossblock the upper, all while measuring her odds of any counter attack succeeding.
Simply put, Beni-hime had no viable options and tried to step in to extremely close range but stopped to dodge a low stomp to the shin/foot which then transitioned into a lunge, clipping the back of her reflexive deflecting left and was made to charge in the opposite direction (AKA retreat). Karasuba didn't follow through, although her smile maybe widened by a hair. She merely turned and faced Benitsubasa with the same stance she started with, hardly moving from her starting position.
Benitsubasa, contrary to popular belief, is not frustrated anymore. If anything, one would describe her mind state as one-destination mind, not to be confused with one-track; she is running over every plan she can conceive that stops short of causing moderate structural damage to at least force Karasuba to really dodge and not be completely on the defensive as opposed to blindly rushing in like a one-track mind would.
Having come up with something, this time she tried side-dashing her way in, approaching gradually and mixing up her speed too, in an attempt to force a mis-read from her single number opponent.
After not seeing an opening again, she stopped her circling of #04 and made the same dash as last time, except she cocked back her right in advance, jumped into and called out her attack, "Shredder!" she growled it out as Karasuba accepted the challenge and her sheathed blade clashed with the not-R*s*ng*n. A few more seconds of stalemate and Benitsubasa noticed her swirl of energy beginning to lose ground. Knowing it was only a matter of time, she made a bold move by releasing the remainder of the energy used to form her attack, causing a concussive force that displaced both fighters away from each other. Benitsubasa agilely flipped with the force pulse as Karasuba skidded away, as #105 had lept with her attack to gain high ground. The Crimson Sekirei grinned gleefully at the skidmarks on the floor, signifying her sempai's forced movement.
Step one down, now to catch her off guard.
Karasuba's smile turned into a savage grin as she decided to reward her kouhai's success by going on the offensive. With enough speed to make one question whether the black blur they just saw really was just there, she dashed forward with her weapon raised high. With mercurial swordplay, Karasuba's blade danced around the now forced to turtle Benitsubasa. Most blows were deflected when possible, blocked when not although a lunge to the stomach here, a diagonal slash to the shoulder there would slip through and things were going downhill for the Crimson Sekirei quickly, forcing her to act now or be chipped down.
It was as a upward slash that got crossblocked threw her skyward did she decide to bring in the unsung third combatant of any duel to the fray: The enviornment. Utilizing her unplanned flight to her advantage, she ripped one of the dangling light fixtures off and used the ceiling as her springboard. She threw the light fixture towards her opponent with blazing ferocity as she flew back to Karasuba with a vengeance, fists held at the ready.
Despite the Black Sekirei's sizeable weapon and great strength, Beni-hime's powerful thrown weapon threw off her follow-up swing due to the necessary block the now shattered light forced from of her and for the first time made her unable to respond quickly enough to #105's approach and signalled the beginning of a barrage of blows to be traded between both duelists. Left jabs, right crosses, various elbow and knees along, with legsweeps and headkicks mixed in flew almost as a single salvo from Benitsubasa, aiming for whatever area was closest and moderately important enough to do decent damage to.
Karasuba's own jabs, kicks, plus her bread and butter slashes in all directions answered as well as they could. After the first attempt at a kick and a punch each, #04 stopped trying them entirely. Despite her single number advantage, true close-quarters combat was her pink-haired adversary's domain, and it showed: At worst, Benitsubasa wouldn't even slow down batting away or dodging the attempted strikes, at best it would force an unwanted sway. Naturally, Karasuba wised up and kept to pure swordplay.
The Black Sekirei's speed, unbelievable battle instinct and experience advantage saved her from taking any blow full-on, usually by deflecting them into the walls, floor and various pieces of exercise equipment but Benitsubasa's vicious pace and gargantuan strength kept #04 on the receiving end for the most part. Even worse, the rare blow that needed to be blocked had to be done two-handed. Regardless of that, each strike rattled her down to her toes and taking any solid hit would definitely make this bout a lot harder.
Being on the defensive isn't an enjoyable sensation in Karasuba's books but the fact #04 could still manage to throw an attack in every now and then (even if it was dodged and the area around the warring pair paid the price) and the on-the-ropes feeling still a fresh enough sensation that it carries a sense of novelty allowed the following to happen.
A chopping right smash was dodged by a sway, obliterating yet another unfortunate chunk of floor which was followed by a left cross deflected by Karasuba's kodachi, led up to a leg-sweep that was jumped ov-holy shit, it hit.
The last paragraph's final four words would be an accurate guess as to what ran through Benitsubasa's mind in that moment, the sheer surprise pulling her out of the time-defying, expectation shaking state of mind known simply as The Zone slightly. The momentary shock may or may not have changed the outcome of this duel.
Another swirl of energy formed within Benitsubasa's right palm as Karasuba's own surprise at being leg-sweeped kept her down longer than needed, which in turn allowed the not-R*s*ng*n to graze her midriff. And when a rapidly rotating sphere of energy, aptly named after a certain quartet of turtles' greatest enemy grazes a person, it tends to leave a mark. Mainly, on what remains of the clothes covering the grazed area. A gaping hole was made on Karasuba's top, completely exposing her navel and part of her brassierre as said navel also got treated to what the equivalent of a cartoony cloud filled with fighting cats would do to flesh with their claws.
Ignoring the shock of being struck, #04 showed no mercy in her counter-attack, bruising and bloodying Benitsubasa all around the room with relative ease, making a big ol' mess of things, even going so far as to finish with another launching upward slash into a chopping diagonal to cannon blast a currently mid-air bench press into an aerial Benitsubasa. The Crimson Sekirei had enough energy left to bat the hunk of metal into the ceiling but the force it struck her ungrounded form with still launched her into the floor with enough momentum to make yet another building-shaking crater.
~My story's biggest fight scene is a spar (so far) and I hope it was up to par~
Yume and Musubi had enough of unintentionally giving fanservice scenes to as much of the MBI staff as they possibly could and decided it was time for their favourite pastime (besides eating): Training. As they walked through the open passage that signified Benitsubasa's whereabouts, they found Karasuba with a circular tear through the top of her uniform, revealing her scratched and chiseled belly for all to see. "Yo, Yuu-chan, Muu-chan. Sorry about the mess," she said lightly with her signature smile in full force as she turned with the possibly related pair to survey the damage. A benchpress was slammed through the ceiling, as the bar dangled dangerously a ways from it, as the weights on one side had slammed onto the floor underneath while the other side's load remains to be seen. Fluorescent lights also comically hung on one wire, spewing sparks occasionally, or were simply gone. The mirrors along the walls were mainly shattered to bits or missing entirely, accenting the very few completely untouched by the mass mayhem unleashed by the two DS members. Fist and bootmarks marked the area in droves, along with the rare sheath slash mark (imagine a regular slash, just a lot messier of a scar on the land and you get the idea). Benitsubasa herself was unseen, although one could guess she was in the larger of the few craters in the general center of the training area.
Sure enough, a groan announced her presence and up rose Benitsubasa in apparel and appearance to suit a kung-fu movie in its second half, her decency spared by her undergarments being kept out of sight by strategic slivers of her remaining kimono top and tights. Bruises covered her visible flesh like patchwork as blood caked her mouth, forearms and hair and yet, anyone who saw her wouldn't be quite sure how to describe her; she looked as if her entire bodice was treated as a popular batting cage's baseball for a day but the small smile on her face as her eyes occasionally glazed over as if staying conscious was a battle rivalling the one she was just in gave the impression she was content. Or concussed, it was hard to tell.
The Crimson Sekirei staggered her way out of the crater as the other three silently watched on with their own reactions: Musubi was starry-eyed and vibrating in place, no doubt fired up for her own sparring session with Yume. Yume couldn't keep the smile off her face even if she tried, regardless of the fact she'd be the one to placate Takami as she would no doubt have to deal with getting the room fixed. Again. Karasuba's own smile, unlike what some would believe, was genuine right then; there was something she found absolutely cathartic about a good old-fashioned scrap, where nothing but the fighters' pride was at stake, unlike the past when she fought to save her sisters-of-the-pod. Those bouts were too heavy to truly enjoy, but what happened just now, (and quite a few times before) with the pink-haired spitfire? That was fun.
"Walk it off, Beni-chan. Same time tomorrow?" she asked lightly, patting her roughly on the shoulder. If Benitsubasa was bothered by the blow-in-disguise, she did a stellar job not showing it and merely grinned with a nod to show her thoughts on the matter.
"You landed a good hit in, Beni-chan! Well done! I look forward to our own match later!" Yume declared with gusto. She was much gentler with her own pat, but not so much to imply pity.
Musubi did what Musubi did best (yes, even better than eating and spreading a glimpse of heaven everywhere): Express herself, "Wow, you hit Karasuba-sempai! I don't even come close when we spar! Let's spar later!" Musubi gushed. Benitsubasa grimaced lightly but was too worn out to really get worked up over Musubi being Musubi and merely took the compliment.
The Crimson Sekirei straightened up and went on her way with a slight limp but no one called her out on it in respect. Even Musubi kept her tongue in check, as Yume had been (despite her earlier showing) true to the mentor image she displays and had succeeded in instilling some idea of discretion through to #88.
The battered and bruised pink-haired brawler went around the corner and out of sight from the DS duo plus one. The façade couldn't remain forever, and it crumbled about twenty meters from the labs catered to the Sekirei. It was a weak showing #105 gave but the men and women working the labs knew better than to say anything; they merely waited for Benitsubasa to settle herself in and got to it.
Anesthetic was administered as they got to work sanitizing the crook of her left arm and then injected the Ex-Machina serum (name courtesy of Minaka). After the female members of the nerdy populace dressed the unconscious Sekirei in one of her many sets of clothes they had on hand (along with Musubi's bastardization of a Shinto shrine maiden get-up) for obvious reasons, they pulled the screens around the bed to show its occupied status and then went about their business.
Sekirei stamina plus the aptly named Ex-Machina serum make for a cocktail of ridiculous healing rate; the bruises marring the alabaster flesh of Benitsubasa eventually vanished at the rate of paint drying with a large, industrial fan blowing at it from a safe distance so as to not cause streaks, while also being just as fascinating to the naked eye.
It wasn't long until the Crimson Sekirei sat up abruptly, startling the orderly that just checked in on her. After rising with a leap, she checked herself for any remaining aches by stretching her lithe form. Satisfied with the results of a medical company's meds boosted with out-of-world tech and knowledge, she briskly walked out without a word to a soul as the various workers flowed around her like a river with a sizeable stone jutting out in the middle of it.
As fun as her afternoon was, it was time for the bane of her good moods to do what he was always meant to do.
~I admit it, I got lazy~
Out of Minaka's office stomped Benitsubasa, somewhat irritable. And to those who read through this story so far would be aware of management's penchant to understate things on occasion, so naturally she's livid. It's a vicious cycle the temporary heroine finds herself in, but all things in life tend to be caught on the rails of their own cycles so it can't really be helped.
Yume and Musubi had taken over the freshly repaired training room, in an attempt to teach #88 how to shoot lasers like #08 could. The Sekirei of Fate didn't quite have the heart to tell the Bear Sekirei it was impossible to teach that, but telling her such a thing would be like lighting a puppy on fire and kicking it 50+ yards for a field goal, but barely making it by hitting the inside of the post. And for the non-Americans, it's like lighting the puppy on fire again and doing a strike on said puppy from 50+ yards out and hitting the goalpost.
The one time Benitsubasa tried to train with (train with meaning being in the same room as and ignoring unless asked for a 'friendly spar') the pair, she found herself unconsciously grinding her teeth and destroying specially made punching bags in one blow as opposed to several due to watching #88 copy Yume's open palm thrusts, which in turn caused her soft mounds of flesh to make waves. Lots of waves. Naturally, breast envy kicked in, although Beni-hime would rather chug a keg of bleach while getting paper cuts in the gaps between her fingers and toes then dunk said appendages in a salt and lemon juice bath, all the while watching the most cringeworthy videos she could find online back to back before saying it out loud.
She stalked into her quarters, which unlike Yume and Karasuba's wasn't personalized to her taste, as she is still not officially a part of the DS. She kicked off her boots then flopped back-first on her bed and sighed. She then felt the need to reflect upon what has happened to her since the hasty decision to act as an enforcer. Did she enjoy being Minaka's gopher? Staying in a shared building with that bitch Haihane? Working under the irritating Yume? Seeing Musubi until she finally, finally gets released? She knew before the answer was undoubtedly yes, if only because it was all tolerable most of the time. Now? Now she was on the fence and it didn't sit well with her at all. Another sigh escaped her lips, deeper this time as she turned on her side, the Sandman's magic gradually working on her. Her last thought was of what she would do if her DS spot was denied and was upset when no answer came to her. Needless to say, Beni-hime's sleep was wrought with unsettling dreams.
~This scene will break, like all before it~
A swirling breeze caressed a pair of ankles covered by purple heel straps, as an anklet on the right side with a mysteriously silent bell, the silver surface reflecting the setting sun. The right foot rotates clockwise a bit as a rich, feminine tenor voice speaks to herself, "Is this the place...? It matches Miya's description, but..." Now said foot rotates back and forth, as the person said foot is undoubtedly attached to hems and haws before deciding the house looks nice enough to have good booze in it somewhere; she'd at least get something to drink for her efforts.
She danced around the rooftops surrounding the premises, searching for an easy way in. Her sharp eyes caught the second floor balcony door open just a crack and moves in. With nary a sound, the door slides open as if floating on clouds. High-heeled feet strutted towards the sounds of a pair of feminine voices conversing.
Just outside the also cracked door that said voices were speaking from, Kazehana, #03, The Drunkard, Wind Flower and Sekirei of the Wind overheard some juicy talk.
"-and we had just got out of the theater in a rush, since the movie ended soon after we started getting frisky. There was a park closeby so Hana-tan led us as deep into the trees as we could find-"
Kazehana gripped the ever-present bottle of sake with both hands tightly.
"-Hana-tan's tongue did things my fingers never could-"
Redder and redder did #03's face turn as she panted for breath.
"-finally Hana-tan stood up and-"
"O~h, he ravaged you then and there, didn't he Matsu? Iya~n, what a amourous and daring Ashikabi you ha~ve!" Kazehana, being the love freak she is, couldn't contain herself any longer and burst into the room, making her love-love guess as to what happened, completely forgetting the fact she broke into their home.
The reactions of both of Hanatarou's Sekirei were as different as a rainforest is to a desert-dweller when the inevitable comparison between enviornments happens. Uzume rose quickly and looked ready to spring into action at the drop of a hat while Matsu seemed to expect the unexpected visitor, "The fuck? Who the hell are ya?" Uzume wasted no time asking, as many veils as she could summon at short notice at her back like the many arms of Vishnu.
"It's ok Uzu-tan. Kaze-tan won't cause trouble, unless she gets really thirsty. Then Kami have mercy on whatever liquor Hana-tan has lying around," Matsu explained to the youngest feather in the room.
"Don't worry about me, honey~! I'm just a wandering drunkard here to visit an old comrade," added on said drunkard with a sly smile, alcohol colouring her cheeks with a healthy rosy tint, tipping the soon to be empty bottle of pilfered sake from Miya's own stash to her welcoming lips.
"Still, she walks in like she owns the place! Kinda offended on principle, ya know?" #10 remained vigilant.
Kazehana lazily regarded her younger kin, obviously pondering her next move. She suddenly turned to Matsu and asked, "Mind fetching me some glasses Matsu? Looks like a peace offering would smooth things over."
The Sekirei of Wisdom raised an eyebrow, "Alcohol being the magical peace offering? Kaze-tan, Matsu hates to say it, but maybe alcohol isn't the answer to everything?"
Kazehana scoffed lightly as she waved her hand dismissively at the brain-type, "Oh please Matsu, just humour me. Besides, I want to share a drink with you too."
Uzume was about to interject but a voice both her and #02 know like the spot between their shoulder blades called out from the entrance, "Tadaima!"
Kazehana smiled widely at her old teammate while said teammate looked a little conflicted. Uzume however, was being rather responsible and had flown down the stairs and greeted her Ashikabi with her back, having taken a defensive stance facing the stairs.
Hanatarou, easily noticing her veils on display and tense posture made the assumption there was someone hostile in the house, "How many?" he whispered as he grabbed Uzume's cheeks to turn her face towards him for a very quick kiss.
"Just me, Ashikabi-kun. And you can rest assured, I mean no harm," called Kazahana down the stairs as she walked into view at the base of the stairs, with Matsu behind her looking apologetic.
"Gomen, Hana-tan. It's a surprise visit from one of Matsu's old comrades, Hana-tan can trust her word. And when Matsu says surprise visit, Matsu means it. Kaze-tan had the drop on Uzu-tan when she decided to spoil the surprise in typical Kaze-tan fashion," #02 explained.
"So if she meant harm, she had her golden opportunity," Hanatarou connected the dots, nodded his acceptance of the fact and laid a hand on Uzume's shoulder, the stand-down evident in his look.
Uzume however, had another reason to be offended now, "Et tu, Matsu?! Ya let her get the drop on me when ya coulda warned a sista? The fuck!?"
At this, Matsu looked very sheepish, "To be honest, Kaze-tan surprised Matsu too. Matsu wasn't facing her monitors and was distracted by the story enough to not keep tabs mentally. Matsu is ashamed at her lack of awareness," she knuckled her temple in penance as she admitted her faults.
Uzume was deflating, as she couldn't blame #02 for missing something she did, but couldn't help the parting shot, "Wa~it, why didn't you react to her then?"
"Back in the S Plan Guardian days, Kaze-tan kind of went where she pleased, and more often than not with no one the wiser. None can cage the Wind Flower," #02 further explained.
To emphasize Matsu's point, Kazehana bent over and flicked the previously utterly quiet bell at her anklet, causing its tinkle to ring throughout the silent house. The message was clear.
Hanatarou whistled lowly, "Well, that is impressive."
Kazehana smiled a sultry smile as she hefted the largest bust known to Sekirei-kind, "Why, thank yo~u!"
Hanatarou then shook his head, "Not what I was referring to," he felt the need to explain.
Kazehana giggled, "Of course not."
"Well, I know your name, but you don't know mine. Hanatarou Tanaka," the now officially retired stockbroker kept his intro simple and he bowed a cool business fashion. "Might I offer you a drink? Perhaps some scotch or bourbon?" the last question he quickly tacked on as Kazehana had looked mournfully at her now empty sake bottle.
"No sake?" #03 felt compelled to ask.
"Some sake, but I find variety to be the spice of life so I offered the whiskeys first," he admitted. "Tell me how you'll like it once you think on it as I ask my two beautiful ladies," he added as he turned to Uzume who was closer.
Her face was neutral at first but brightened at the prospect of alcohol; it wasn't as if Hanatarou was a stiff about drinking, he just limited it to once a week and if she were being entirely honest, she had a mild fondness for liquor. "Skyë on ice please!"
"Same for Matsu please!"
"Check, check. As for you?" Hanatarou aimed his inquiry towards the guest.
Kazehana had a finger to her lips as she jutted out her hips in a thinking pose before deciding, "Surprise me, Ashikabi-kun."
"Oh-hoh! My choice eh? Alright then," he said with a smirk. He bounded over to his chilled liquor cabinet in the living room. He grabbed a vinyl in its sleeve as an impromptu serving tray and loaded a long pair of glasses with iced Skyë's and a long and short of the drink he chose for himself and #03.
"Come sit in the living room, we can talk there," he called to the three Sekirei, as he needed to refill his already empty glass.
He turned after he finished topping himself off and served the drinks swiftly. His Sekirei thanked him sweetly as he set his long glass down next to Matsu's and the short one in front of his guest, a size difference she noticed, "C'mon now, I can't look like that much of a lightweight?" Kazehana joked lightly.
"You don't!" The host half-shouted from the kitchen as he was audibly looking for something, "Two reasons for the small glass: One, my drink is identical so it's to prevent us mixing glasses. Two, incase you didn't like your drink, I'd finish off what's left and you get served sake as soon as I...Ah!" Hanatarou exclaimed lightly, signalling the end of his search. He emerged from the kitchen with a metal container holding a variety of nuts to act as their drinking snack.
Uzume noted his heavier than normal alcohol consumption, "Goin' hard on the bottle, bro?" she asked, curiosity evident in her tone.
Hanatarou nodded in confirmation, "Hell yeah! I'm officially retired now!" he rose his glass in toast, which the three beautiful ladies joined him in.
"Is that right? A young guy like you, maybe you meant 'fired?'" Kazehana teased, earning a scowl from Uzume and a frown from Matsu.
"Well, that's a natural train of thought, all things considered." Hanatarou commented on her reasoning while also noting four already empty glass before standing and saying, "I can assure you though, I did not misspeak. Let me get that sake now, I want some now that you brought it up," He then walked to the back quickly while Matsu took this time to ask where her former comrade had been in her travels. By the time Hanatarou returned, Kazehana had mentioned a total of seven locations (leaving off on Dubai), enrapturing Matsu and even catching Uzume's attention (despite her lingering distrust of #03), as travel would naturally be interesting to those who've been shut-in against their will. The grass is greener on the other side, after all. One of a more scientific mind could theorize it also falls in with the avian history in their bloodline, like a watered down version of migration; a wanderlust, if you will.
Incoming redundancy: Hanatarou returned holding a dusty, dark green, large bottle with a label so old and crumpled almost the entire remnant of paper was utterly ineligible and in contrast a four units high stack of plain ceramic masus. "Not gonna lie, this is my second to last bottle of this stuff. But fuck it, what better time to enjoy some?" He started with a hint of sadness, then shook it off with a grin and got to serving the four of them.
Matsu raised her glass, the amazing metabolism of a Sekirei keeping her (and Uzume, nevermind Kazehana's grizzled veteran of a liver) on the level and so welcomed more drink, "What do we toast to this time, Hana-tan?"
"Whatever the individual drinker wishes to toast to, if anything. Personally, I'm just going to enjoy the sake," he said matter-of-factly.
"To ecchi!" The Sekirei of Wisdom lived up to her title's alternate reading in Japanese.
"To retirement!" Was Uzume's, undoubtedly thinking along Matsu's train of thoughts.
Kazehana had downed the sake like a champ and her eyes widened as she raised a hand to her lips, "To this sake! This is wonderful stuff!" Without further ado, the Sekirei of Wind wrapped her mits around the neck of the bottle and moved to do her famous killing move.
Suddenly Kazehana noticed the bottle froze before reaching its planned destination. "Hey now, I'm going to have to ask you to stop that, honoured guest," Hanatarou held the base of the bottle, leaning from his seat, "I don't mind sharing but that's going to inconvenience others," he said.
"If you're as well off as you seem, what's one bottle of liquor, hm~m?" Kazehana tried that pout thing guys tend to fall for hook, line and sinker. Men (and women, although in this day and age it should go without saying. However management feels we should 'cover our asses before we get told to check our privledge') everywhere would still have their dignity, should they have fallen for the Wind Flower's wiles though; literal otherworldly beauty is one helluva thing to see for most guys, nevermind how she dresses, naturally flirts, the beyond Goddess-like body (Q**k*'s announcer saying "HOLY SHIT-Shit-shit!" still applies) and husky and seductive voice she has.
"Normally you'd be right, except this bottle is to be shared amongst us all. Now stop being greedy or I'm going to have to slap you on the wrist like a naughty child," he admonished his guest with a wagging finger.
A part of her wondered where he got the balls to treat her, #03, in such a manner, but the other part of her couldn't help but find it very amusing. She blames the alcohol.
A rather unladylike snort was the starting line for a lengthy burst of unbridled laughter from the Wind Flower, as she couldn't contain herself even if she wanted to. Uzume had risen up in order to defend what she saw as a mockery of her Ashikabi but was withheld by his raised hand and muttering of, "Let her get it out of her system," as he used the time granted by the fit of mirth to refill the saucers around him repeatedly.
It wasn't until Hanatarou had almost finished the bottle amongst the three not laughing did Kazehana eventually stop giggling. "Matsu, where the hell did you find this guy?" #03 couldn't help but ask her comrade.
Hanatarou snorted behind his final sake saucer as Matsu answered, "Matsu's heart led Matsu to Hana-tan and that's all there is to say on the matter," she said with a mysterious smile.
"One thing I don't get though. He has actually avoided eye-fucking me almost entirely," Kazehana caught the mild raising of the present Ashikabi's eyebrow, "Yeah I caught that look as I came down the stairs," she winked saucily after having dropped all pretenses of subtly, "Women are sensitive to those kinds of looks, you kno~w?"
Hanatarou sighed lightly, "I guess we'll pretend you don't have hyper sensitive senses compared to the previous race I'd gaze at. Damn, gonna have to change my technique," he bemoaned with a small frown before smirking, "Oh well, I always did enjoy a challenge."
"Is this going to be a running gag?" Matsu wonders aloud, although no one seems to hear.
"Well, the explanation is simple. As utterly crazy as it sounds, I don't think with my dick. Ask my ladies here how long it took me to pop their cherries. Well, Uzume's. Who knows which dildo got Matsu's," he expositioned with a half-shrug.
"Oh that's easy. The one Matsu ordered from Good Wyvern. Cornelius has just the right curve to it, how could Matsu not?" #02 explained matter-of-factly.
"Is this true Uzume? Did he really wait?" Kazehana found the idea of a guy not humping everything that stands on two legs with a uterus astounding. Understandable somewhat, considering the reactions her bodice would always entice.
"Unfortunately. Had ta get myself off daily with fingers and a few rotors. Had ta wash the sheets daily too, although Hanatarou found out regardless," #10 admitted freely.
"Wow. Surprising," the Drunk said before she could stop herself.
"Kami forbid guys remember their first, bigger head gives them better ideas nearly all the time, right?" Hanatarou said lazily, as the drink started hitting him harder, despite his own trained liver.
Kazehana shook her head, "No, no, I mean you actually held off on ravaging your feathers. Why if you don't mind me asking?" It just so happens both of his feathers leaned forward slightly in anticipation of his answer.
Hanatarou rested his chin on his hands as he wiggled his interlocked fingers, taking a moment to gather his inebriated thoughts, "Long story short, initially I felt I would take advantage of them. What it developed into then was a real selfish fear. I see that now," he admits.
Kazehana wasn't expecting the conversation to head in this direction and was as attentive as one could be while still taking occasional pot-shots at the sake bottle, which Hanatarou moved out of the way 'just in time' everytime. However, Uzume would be the one to ask the obvious question, "What were ya afraid of?"
"Me. I saw a pair of angels willing to let me rest my head upon their pleasant bosoms and feared if I fell to the temptation, I'd never want to raise my head like W*b*s*k*. I'd stop going to work, although I wound up stopping anyway. Funny how that worked out!" He couldn't stop a wry chuckle from escaping him before continuing, "I'd stop keeping up with my portfolio, I'd even stop playing piano. I'd just spend the rest of my days balls deep in them and let the world go fuck itself for all I care. Apathy purely for the sake of mindless self-indulgence."
"Did you really think you'd go so far? Do you have no faith in your own willpower?" Glassesless Matsu once again shows her ability to show up and remind people, despite the usual silly speech mannerisms, despite her unholy love for everything H-related, there's a super computer of a brain ready to run a million kilometers a nanosecond.
"Yes. It was unfair of me to hold off for such a reason; if I stopped myself at every 'but what if' I thought up before-hand, chances are none of you would've met me and I would've stuck with the gang of my mom's pimp, along with several of my siblings. Granted, they're successful in their own right but I'd never truly retire from that life. But I digress."
"You were in a gang? Like the yakuza?" Kazehana queried.
"Somewhat. Los Angeles del Don Ricardo (Don Ricardo's Angels) started off as a flesh for cash business. And not the other kinds." Hanatarou explained.
"Define 'flesh for cash,' and 'the other kinds,'" Matsu requested.
"Prostitution, human trafficking and assassination, in that order." He answered in a short manner.
"You were raised in a whorehouse?" Kazehana asked, distaste painting both her tone and features.
"Yup. I'm a son of a bitch," the whoreson accountant said with an easy-going, lopsided grin before figuratively sobering up, although the drink made itself known in his speech patterns, "Not as bad a place as you're imaginin', I think. Big R was a fair man and he kept a few kids 'round, myself included. We were warned as to what his work would entail, at least. Plus if we didn' want to fuck or be dumb muscle for a livin', the town an hour's walk away could always use more croppickers."
"Did ya-um..." Uzume got out that much before trailing off.
"What, partake of our product? Nah, even though we did get a small discount," he dismissed their concern, "Figured it be a little odd to bone my ma's workmates. Didn' stop most of my brothers though, crazy bastids."
"What made your gang different than the yakuza?" Matsu felt inclined to ask.
"Well, we didn't do huge drug shipments often enough to be a big name. Weapons were mostly small-key also. No shuffling of people or murderers for hire like I said. We just tried to keep to ourselves and had women mainly."
"Doesn't sound like a very successful organization," #02 observed.
"Were we multi-trillionaires, with villas like Sc*rf*c*? No, but we kept our noses as clean as possible from gang wars and the police and military didn't fuck with us as long as the higher ups got to bust a few nuts for free from time to time. In a country that's no stranger to gunfights in the streets over territory, we weren't as soaked in blood as everyone else. Quite a few of our guys always thought it made us look weak but it worked out for a while."
"Ya made it sound like it stopped workin'," Uzume couldn't help but notice.
Hanatarou sighed before answering, "That's because it did. Big R got whacked by 'nother gang, one of my bros took over. He's a bit more ruthless than the old man, puttin' it gently."
"Is that why you left?" Matsu asked.
"No, I left 'fore then. My eldest bro Guillermo left earlier than I did but he kept better tabs on 'em. He brought the news to me when he last came by." It was at this point he blinked, "Oi, I started drinkin' to have a good time, not reminisce about the old days."
"Bittersweet memories?" Kazehana asked knowingly.
"Aren't they all?" Hanatarou quipped back.
She acknowledged his point with a minor shrug and nod, "Got me there."
Hanatarou scoffed after a moment or two of silence. He stood abruptly and, the remainder of a whiskey bottle at his lips the whole way, went up the stairs.
"Where ya goin'?" Uzume couldn't help but ask.
"To get the melancholy outta my system," he called back from the second floor after a clunk of glass on wood could be heard, signifying what happened to his bottle.
"O~h, this is going to be good," Matsu murmured with a smile and grabbed the tin for a showtime snack as she too ascended a floor along with her fellow feathers, #03 confused as to what was going on.
She found a room with what looked like Matsu's nest in one corner and a concert piano on the other side, while the sole Ashikabi sat upon its bench, popping his fingers and rotating his wrists with minute flourishes. She stood between Matsu and Uzume, who were seated in their chair and floor respectively.
A few bars of Chopin's Ballade No. 1 in G Minor, Op. 23 is played then he suddenly struck a sour chord. "Nah, that's more for someone whose passing has left fresh wounds still. Right tone but the wrong style...I need something a little less raw and tragic, but more refined..." the oblivious to everything else pianist muttered to himself, although the Wagtails present heard him still.
"Ah! I got it," he called out after plinking out the Jeopardy theme.
"What are yo-" the Wind Flower got out before being cut off.
"Hold on, hold on! The magic's 'bout to happen," he shushed her absently as he pops his neck hands free in anticipation of said magic.
And what a show of figurative arcane prowess it was. He decided on a medley of F*r* *mbl*m songs, starting with the third verse of L*st *n Th**ghts, *ll *l*n*, which he even sang half-decently, although his low tenor voice was clearly untrained as the best he could do was stay in tune-ish (one could argue the alcohol threw his singing voice off, but the absurd cleanliness of his pianowork would contrast that theory). He then played Sk*rm*sh (Calm), intentionally slowing it down a tad and dragging out the chords a bit to sadden its tone some. He wrapped up with a different series, *ng*g* Th* *n*my. Naturally since every piece he played had multiple instruments, he did his best to fill in the parts as well as he could with only a pair of hands.
Once he finished, he was struck with a thought he's had since he was a teenager, barely scratching the surface of the piano: 'Why couldn't I be like G*r* or M*ch*mp, just with 4 fingers?'
He turned only to have his face buried in Glasses Matsu's cleavage, "O~h Hana-tan, don't be sa~d! As soon as Kaze-tan leaves, Matsu will cheer Hana-tan up, yes she will!"
"How, by making me lose several liters of fluids? Ah, it'll be like workin' the fields all over again, 'cept a lot more fun, a lot less tannin' and just as exhaustin'!" He said, voice muffled by Matsu's body.
Kazehana, despite the earlier cheer that came with getting drunk for free, found her good mood mostly gone due to the unpleasant memories brought forth by the admittedly talented performance she bore witness to. By the time Hanatarou had the precense of mind to cease #02's adventurous hands, demanding lips and gyrating hips before they made #03 a voyeur and inspired Uzume to join in, she was already gone. Mentally shrugging, he allowed himself to be dragged to bed, this time the threesome would not be denied.
~I bet you were expecting me to write it out too~
Homura is a man(?) of simple pleasures: He enjoys a good drink, a pack of cigarettes and a woman's warm embrace. None of this is relevant right now, as he is currently duelling with the ironically Water-based fireball of a Sekirei, #09 Tsukiumi. "Jaen! (Fire Snake)" Homura cries, making a blazing shape C*br* C*mm*nd*r would be proud of.
Tsukiumi wasted no time using her signature move in retaliation, "Mizu Matsuri! (Water Festival/Celebration)"
Elemental opposites clash, a bulbous cloud of steam forming and blanketing nearly the entire rooftop as a result.
"Hmph! Just as I would expect from my rival, your strength is comparable to mine!" (A/N: Yea-no. Not doin' ye olde English for Ms. Super Soaker herself. Had enough of that shit in uni) #09 declared with energy typical of a fighting Sekirei.
Homura didn't bother responding, as he was currently gritting his teeth in frustration. He flicked on the mike of his ear piece (which thankfully remained with him after the initial ambush. Not that he got hit or anything, it was a sloppy dodge on his part), "Uzume, are you close by the Northern part of town? I could use a hand here," he said curtly.
"Gimme three minutes," was her near immediate answer, followed by the very dull pop of her mike muting.
"Tracking Homu-tan's location...hm, just far enough from Miya-tan's to escape notice. What a devious foe you're up against Homu-tan," Matsu piped up, acting as dispatch.
"Devious is not the word I'd choose," #06 quipped. "Arrogant, hot-headed, a pervert-"
"MIZU MATSURI!" yelled the wonderfully complimented Tsukiumi. Homura was sharp in his deflective burst of fire but apparently her anger fueled her power, as he was struck with a boiling remnant of the ability. The flash-heated water itself didn't bother him, as heat of any kind doesn't really affect him (except for extremes, such as magma or the sun) but it was the principle of the idea that rocked him: He got hit.
The wind gusted hard, clearing the steam regardless of the double emission. The Water Sekirei's hair billowed around her as droplets of sizes varying from pebbles to those seedless watermelons that are kind of small but bigger than grapefruits orbited most of the rooftop as her clothes mimicked her hair. Homura sighed lightly as she vented her anger in a self-righteous manner that if #06 bothered paying attention to it, he would've found it to be an amusing and eloquent string of insults and the like. But there was just such a huge distraction and so...
"Hm? Did you say something?" Homura asked cheerily with an eye-smile, "You were flashing your panties the entire speech, didn't really hear you over that."
Imagine an angry kitten. Adorable how it hisses and raises its hackles like it is intimidating right? Kinda makes one want to go, "D'aww." Now imagine a lioness whom caught someone/thing messing with her cub(s). The comparison between those two would be an accurate mental image for a before and after featuring Tsukiumi's unyielding rage.
"Y-you shameless beast! Suiryuu! (Water Dragon)" Both caster and creation roared, one with words, the other with a wordless roar one would expect of a creature of fantasy. The liquid dragon kept its fearsome maw open as it lunged and crashed face-first onto the floor.
Homura, whose power was strained due to his unstable nature, didn't (or couldn't but wouldn't admit it, depends on who one would ask) let this battle devolve into a power pissing contest and dove off the building, avoiding the attack entirely. Due to his extremely close timing, Tsukiumi from her point of view believed her attack struck and forced him off the rooftop. "Serves the lecher right," #09 huffed as she spun and made off to gaze at the city from a rooftop or whatever the hell she does off-screen.
It was unfortunate Homura dove off so sharply, as only the cold, unforgiving pavement was available to catch him...
Until a woven square of silk embraced and halted his fall. Uzume swore under her breath as she noticed her veils caught fire and detached them from her to save herself a few burns, "Oi Homura, ya can tone the heat down now, I think whoever was after ya left now!" She called to her senior Guardian.
"Sorry about that. I'll cool off after a bit, it's a gradual thing," #06 lied smoothly.
Uzume chuckled lightly, "Well then, no high five for ya until ya get iced down a bit. Good dive by the way, I give ya a ten for effort but a two for the landing."
The Sekirei of Flame scowled, "You didn't let me land, you caught me."
"In that case, ya should be glad ya even got any points!" #10 sassed back with a wink.
Homura grumbled under his breath as he reached for a cigarette within his jacket, the pack damp enough not to immediately catch fire as he pulled a dry enough faggot to light out with his teeth, his speech surprisingly unmuddled, "Be careful with that one, Uzume. She's a real hot-head and that's coming from me," he accented his point by snapping his fingers for a flame to actually light said cancerstick.
The Veiled Sekirei scoffed, "What's she gonna do, do the sprinkler on me?" She imitated the heavily outdated dance move and laughed.
The corners of Homura's lips curved upwards, as he was reminded why he missed Uzume at Maison Izumo. She was and still is a riot. Being a jokester however, didn't let the reality of the situation not be...well, real, "Not kidding Uzume. She's got enough fight in her for me to call for back-up. If she comes at you guns blazing, be ready for a real scrap, not like that stomp you dished on Yashima. Stay alert," Homura warned his partner, using the time to allow his body to recover.
"Yessir!" She said mockingly, two-fingered salute and poorly imitated standing at attention stance and all.
Homura relented on his attempt to sober up #10 and rolled his eyes at her antics, "Thanks for the save by the way."
Uzume grinned, "I gotcha."
~Sing with me a song of scenes and breaks~
Kazehana, after further drinking herself into a stupor, returned to Maison Izumo on surprisingly steady feet. Her earlier somber mood wore off, or rather was numbed to submission, depending on one's perspective. Miya, being Miya, was at the door 'sweeping' and looked up to welcome a returning tenant, "Welcome back Drunk. Did you bring a replacement bottle of sake for the one you stole from your gracious host?" #01 asked lightly with a smile, in direct contrast with the manifestation of her ill-will behind her, being all creepy and shit.
The Wind Flower found herself a lot more sober out of fear and nodded quickly while raising a bag with not one, not two but three bottles of her preferred alcoholic beverage.
The Hannya faded away as Miya's smile widened, "Good! Unfortunately you missed dinner so you'll have to make due with reheated leftovers. I'll get it ready for you."
Kazehana flashed a genuine smile at her former captain, "Thanks, Miya-chan. Bath is warm right? I think I'll head in for a dip."
"A moment, Kazehana," The Hannya of the North held up #03. "How are Matsu and Uzume? Their Ashikabi has treated them well, I hope?"
The Sekirei of the Wind tilted her head in thought before answering, "Uzume is definitely happy. Quite defensive of him too, she didn't like my crack about Tanaka-san being fired as opposed to retired. Matsu as well, possibly not as much though. While not as defensive, she didn't like my line either. Plus after Tanaka-san played the piano to 'get the melancholy outta his system,' Matsu was the first to try and comfort him the only way she knows how," she finished explaining, grabbing a bottle from the bag and popping its top.
Miya nodded absently, as if what was said confirmed her beliefs, "I see. What did you think of Tanaka-san?"
Kazehana wasn't keen on giving her personal opinion of him, as she has yet to really form one but when Miya asks for something, she doesn't really ask. "He's a pretty easy-going guy, plus he can hold his liquor, for a human." Miya almost let out an unlady-like snort; figures Kazehana would know such a thing, "Tougher than he looks too, if what he told me about his background was true. I feel he's smarter than he acts as well, if how he held himself while drunk is any hint. Why do you ask?"
A mysterious smile graces the beautiful face of #00/01 before answering, "Matsu told me of his strategy for the Sekirei Plan. He wants to set my feathers free."
Kazehana's eyes widened at hearing that, "Do you think he'd-"
"He is the most likely candidate. Who knows what will happen down the road though? Power corrupts; he may wind up being another Minaka," Miya answered quickly, sighing at the grim thought before continuing, "Make sure to visit every now and then. Matsu isn't afraid to give me her piece, but another opinion would be nice."
Kazehana had no problem agreeing; free booze, a show and potential girl-talk? How could she say no?
A/N: Ok, ok, I know I said I'd have Kaho by Chap. 8, but I feel this was a much better ending point, as opposed to approx. 22k words later. Don't fret my readers, it's mostly done already, just gotta edit, proofread and finish writing a middle segment. I don't really see any obvious concerns you folks would call me out on, so I'll keep this shorter than usual. Another story will be posted sometime in the next two weeks; note that I said story, not chapter. Anyway, enough outta me, B. Suarez, signing off.