Cocktail
Shoko scowled irritably at the crowded highway in front of her, tapping her thumb impatiently on the steering wheel. She would have thought that, at five in the morning, the road would be at least mostly clear. But apparently the universe had chosen, yet again, to disclose its contempt for her existence this lovely Monday morning.
On most other days, she would probably have been able to handle the mild irritation of having to sit in traffic for two hours, but today had been shit from the very beginning. Her loving brother, Yoshiyuki, had decided to call, at three in the morning…again. Shoko was certain the man was a vampire as she could not remember the last time she had seen or heard from him when the sun was up. And, as if the fact that he had been obviously blitzed out of his mind when he called was not bad enough, he had taken the liberty of inviting himself over, saying he would be there on Monday night.
Oh, joy. Yet another wonderful week, cleaning up after the messiest creature on the planet, making sure he didn't break anything, ensuring that he was only passed out and not actually dead from alcohol poisoning after one of his, many, drinking binges, sighing to herself the entire time at how unlike the boy she had grown up with he had become.
He hadn't always been like this. Albeit, he had never been the stereotypical Japanese big brother figure that was so idealized in the movies. He had never really cared too much about her protection, secure in the knowledge that she had been perfectly capable of taking care of herself, but he had upheld most of their father's rules. Like the one about boyfriends, the rule being that they were strictly forbidden. And when it came time for him to step up and scare away a prospective penetrator, he had had absolutely no trouble turning on the scary big brother routine.
And then, he went crazy. Shoko was pretty sure their father's death had determined the kind of person her brother had become. She knew that, for her brother, their father had represented the primary source of a huge amount of stress and oppression mostly due to the fact that he had been quite possibly the strictest parent anyone could imagine. And, when that source had suddenly disappeared, both she and her brother had had different ways of coping with their newfound 'freedom'. Her own going into the military right after high school, she was sure had had something to do with 'filling the void'. On the other hand, her brother had kind of lost it. It was as if there was some kind of free spirit that had been lurking inside him all his life just waiting for its chance to get out. Of course, Shoko had to admit that Yoshiyuki was responsible about the things that he needed to be responsible about, even if his personal life was a bit of a shambles. He ran the family dojo fairly efficiently, even though Shoko was always saying she could have done better. And he wasn't exactly a complete asshole. It was obvious that he cared about her deeply enough, constantly chiding her about her unmarried, Christmas cake status, and chalking all of her problems up to the fact that she was obviously not getting any sex. And more often than not, Shoko was always begrudgingly happy to see him, even though she would rather die than admit it. In this particular instance, however, she wished he would show his affection by giving her more than half a week's notice that he was coming to visit."Left the house in a hurry did we?" Gogul greeted as she pushed through the front doors of the office two hours later.
Shoko rolled her eyes. "Had a phone call from Yoshiyuki this morning," she replied, trying to smooth down her long, slightly wavy, black hair with her fingers. Most days she was proud of the fact that, thanks to her Russian mother, she had been born with hair that was naturally wavy. But today, without the proper maintenance, it looked like she'd had a run-in with a bad perm.
The big man grinned. He was well aware of Shoko's 'issues' with her brother. "What time did he call today?"
Her eyes widened angrily. "Three in the fucking morning!" she exclaimed.
Gogul nodded. "Ah, so that's why you're in so early. Couldn't get back to sleep after could you?"
Shoko rolled her eyes and shook her head, mouthing the word 'no'. She glanced around the office as she perched herself on the end of Gogul's desk. They'd always gotten along swimmingly, the hacker and herself, sharing the same level of fluency in Russian which came in handy when they wanted to irritate the fuck out of someone, usually Sengoku, whose reaction was always something along the lines of, "That's so fucking rude! Speak Japanese for fuck's sakes!" Speaking of which… "Hey, isn't Sengoku s'posed to be here by now?"
The big man glanced around, nodding. "Yeah, he came in about twenty minutes ago. Must be at his desk now." He flashed Shoko a cheeky grin. "And you say you're not interested in boys!"
The young woman laughed a little self-consciously. "I said normal boys, not boys in general!" she snapped good-naturedly as she slid to her feet.
"How do you define normal again?" Gogul snickered.
"The kinds of guys Hasegawa tries to set me up with," she sighed. "You know, lawyers and shit."
Gogul raised an eyebrow. "Lawyers and shit?"
She didn't answer right away. Something foreboding and horrible had suddenly struck her. A kind of cold, clammy feeling was creeping into her stomach as she remembered her schedule for the weekend. Oh, shit. I have to go to that fucking cocktail party this Saturday! She came back to reality as soon as she realized Gogul had begun aiming paper clips at her cleavage. "Aggh! What the fuck?" she cried, suddenly forgetting her Japanese and cursing in Russian. She wasn't genuinely angry. Gogul was more of a big brother than a sexual predator. And anyways, he was an amateur compared to her actual brother of course. After all it was he who had tormented her all the way through puberty with stunts like running through the house with one of her training bras, singing, "Shoko wears a bra-a! Shoko wears a bra-a!"
Gogul grinned. "Sorry, couldn't resist!" He straightened his face slightly, obviously picking up on the fact that she had remembered something serious. "So, what was that all about?"
She wrinkled her nose. "I just remembered I have something awful to do this Saturday," she groaned, patting him on the shoulder as she picked up her purse. "I gotta go talk to the boss. See ya later."When Shoko entered Hasegawa's office that morning, he could tell she was already in a bad mood. He smiled to himself as he watched her march into his office in her usual fresh-out-of-the-army posture and plant herself in front of his desk. Shoko was about the only human being, he could honestly say he thought he felt paternal towards, even though he had no clue what 'paternity' actually felt like; it had to be something like this. He had always found it difficult not to like her just a little bit, even though she had a past that could and did turn a lot of people off. She was just such a lovely creature: delicate and resilient, stoic and sensitive all at the same time. And, she had been, and still was, remarkably efficient, having managed to get her collar off in a little more than a year, making her a valuable asset to the department in terms of publicity. So it was always a good idea to at least give the impression that he was trying to keep her happy.
"I have a request," she announced.
Hasegawa smirked inwardly. "I believe the words are 'good morning'."
The young woman rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. "Good morning, sir."
"What's your problem now?" he asked, not bothering to look at her, knowing how much his not doing so irritated her. Shoko hated it when people didn't look at her when she spoke to them.
"It's about that cocktail party on Saturday," she said.
Uh-oh, he knew where this conversation was going. Of all the things he knew Shoko despised about her job, other than being his unofficial ass-kisser representative at all the meetings and conferences he couldn't attend, going to official cocktail parties on the weekend was probably what made her unhappiest. She did her best at every turn to try and wriggle her way out of them, and, to her credit, she usually came up with some pretty good reasons. The best reason, and the one she always cited, was the fact that she did not fit in. It was one thing for Hasegawa's bosses not to take Shoko with a grain of salt and to ensure that they treated her, and, by extension, him, with kid gloves at all times, it was quite another to expect her to feel comfortable with the Oedo super-elite on a more casual level. And, he truly felt sorry for her at times, knowing that she probably spent most of those evenings gritting her teeth and keeping her mouth shut. But, work was work, and if he couldn't attend then someone else would have to go in his place, and that meant her. Besides, she was much nicer to look at.
Hasegawa sighed and sat back in his chair, looking up at the young woman in front of him. "Let me guess, you stubbed your toe and wearing stilettos will be absolutely impossible, so you can't go," he said dryly.
Shoko tilted her head to one side, flashing him a sort of used-car-salesman smile, which immediately turned to a scowl. "No," she said flatly. "I am here to ask if there is a slight and incredibly miniscule chance that you are able to go on Saturday."
He looked at her bemused for a moment and smiled ever so slightly, "I am going actually."
The look of absolute relief on the young woman's face was so astonishing he really hated to ruin it for her. "But, unfortunately, you still have to go," he said after a long pause. He handed her a small envelope with her name written in big black, very official-looking kanji. "You've been invited personally this time."
"What?" she cried, snatching the envelope from his fingers, ripping it open hastily. Sure enough, there was a cream coloured card inside officially inviting her to the 'party' on Saturday at six o'clock. She looked up at him, eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You engineered this didn't you?"
Hasegawa faintly shook his head. "I believe it was Commissioner Tanagawa's office that sent the invitation." He smirked at the look of disgust that crept into Shoko's expression.
Tanagawa was one of his superiors. He was an older man, probably in his sixties, and had never made much of a secret of his 'affections' for 'Yomikawa-chan', although Hasegawa was really only familiar with Shoko's frequent complaints about him. Apparently he regularly made overtly sexual comments to his colleagues about her, while she was still present in the room. He would only ever walk behind her, apparently to get a better look at her ass. Shoko had tried to solve the problem by wearing one of her designer blazers to cover all of her more interesting bits. However, Shoko had come back to the office one afternoon, face flushed in a combination of embarrassment and anger, asserting that 'that lecherous pervert' had grabbed her ass in the elevator. Hasegawa had, of course, asked her what she had done in response, thinking that she had introduced his testicles to her kneecap. But, to his surprise, the young woman had simply bitten her lip and swatted his hand away. It had been a remarkable show of restraint on her part; if it had been anyone else, Hasegawa was sure she would have reacted a bit more…violently.
Shoko furrowed her brow anxiously. "Can't I just tell him I can't go? I mean, I do have a busy schedule this week, maybe it's better I stick to…," she stammered, voice trailing off, not knowing how to finish her sentence.
Hasegawa sighed and glanced at the clock on the far wall. "You do know that it's a bit of a coup to be invited specifically."
Her shoulders slumped slightly. "Yeah, I guess," she murmured reluctantly, giving herself a moment's pause before snapping irritably, "But that asshole only invited me because he wants to grope me again!"
"Don't think of it like that," he replied calmly. "Think of it as a way of furthering your career."
Shoko squinted in disgust. "First of all, what 'career' are you talking about? And how is it flattering to further it by letting some lecherous old man drool all over me?" she asked, folding her arms across her chest.
With another sigh, he sat back in his chair and leveled a somewhat stern glare at her. "Look, it's an opportunity you should think about taking. If he tries to touch you, lick you, kiss you, or whatever else, come and find me and I'll make sure something nasty happens to him."
The young woman arched an eyebrow. "Nasty and bureaucratic with lots of red tape and possible legal proceedings?" she asked with a smirk.
He returned the expression and nodded. He didn't much like Tanagawa either.
Shoko groaned, shifting her weight. "Alright, fine I'll go."
"Good."It was late morning by the time she emerged from Hasegawa's inner sanctum, so she decided to make an appearance at her desk. At least she would get to see Sengoku, whose desk was situated directly behind hers. He was generally someone who always managed to make her feel moderately better about her situation, as he was usually either hungover or pissed off.
She grinned at him as she approached her desk, wondering what today's complaint would be. From the looks of it, he was a little hungover, though no more than usual. He was busy typing away at, what she assumed was his latest overdue report, glancing up and smiling when he noticed her.
"Rough night last night?" she greeted, plopping down in her chair and swiveling it to face him.
Sengoku snorted. "Ha, you should talk!"
"And what's that supposed to mean?" she asked, interested to hear what sly yet slightly flirty comment he had for her today.
He smiled calmly, propping one elbow up on the desk and resting his cheek in his hand. "You look like you've been up all night," he replied simply.
Shoko's eyes narrowed. She could almost hear the underlying implication of that one. But it was more amusing to hear it from him. "Hm, working?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.
Sengoku's grin widened. "Uh, I was thinking of something less professional."
"Pervert," she snickered as she turned to face forward. Coming from anyone else, she would have found those kinds of comments a bit disconcerting. But, coming from Sengoku, they were slightly less bothersome and actually kind of cute. She wasn't a complete idiot either. She knew Sengoku was interested. He had all the symptoms: he sent her funny emails, often of a sexual nature, he teased her endlessly but never actually said anything cruel, she always caught him looking at her in meetings when she knew he thought she wasn't paying attention, the list went on and on. The nice thing, however, the thing that actually made her wish he would just suck it up and ask her out, was that he wasn't forward about it. It was like having that little boy who liked you in elementary, the one who thought throwing spit balls at was an acceptable way of showing affection. And she appreciated the attention, flattered that he thought she was sexy, especially since she generally thought the same of him.
As she sat checking her email, her eyes fell idly to the invitation Hasegawa had given her. Guess I have to RSVP. She let out a depressed, yet somewhat loud, sigh of, "Shit."
"Shit, what?" Sengoku chirped from behind her.
Her eyes went wide as the most wonderful and ingenious idea struck her. How the shit could I have not thought of this before? She turned around in her chair, leaning forward, clasping her hands on the sides of her seat, smiling brilliantly into Sengoku's puzzled face.
"What are you doing on Saturday night?""You are fucking joking!"
Sengoku smirked at the big man sitting in front of him. He and Gogul were seated across from each other in a booth towards the back of their preferred bar late that evening, having decided to go there after their shifts were finished.
The younger man shook his head, smug smile on his face. "Nope. I'm going with her to some party on Saturday night."
Immediately Gogul nodded, understanding the situation. "Ah, so it's not a real date."
"No, not really," Sengoku replied, shoulders slumping slightly. Shoko had made it quite clear that Saturday was strictly professional.
The big man shrugged. He knew better than anyone else that Sengoku had been looking for this kind of opportunity for months now. "Still, it's a start. And it'll be good to get that rumor about me and Shoko squashed once and for all," he mused, smirking at Sengoku.
"Oh yeah," Sengoku snickered. There was the common misconception around the office that Gogul had a thing for the young woman. It was understandable in a way: they were always seen together, chattering away to each other in Russian, and everyone knew that Gogul was Shoko's official computer technician, since, quite surprisingly, Shoko was a bit of a bimbo with computers. "Well, ya gotta admit, it does kinda look like that sometimes," he said innocently looking down at his fingernails.
Gogul frowned disapprovingly. "Yeah, well, as I told you before, I don't think about her that way."
"That's because you're a fag."
The hacker burst out laughing. "Hey, I can appreciate the packaging, I just don't wanna sample it."
"That's what makes you a fag," he replied shortly. He scowled for a second and then flashed Gogul a slightly incredulous look. "I mean, really, did you see her today?! Most girls look like shit when they walk in with no makeup and their hair looking like they've been through a wind tunnel! But Shoko? She looked soooo fuckin' sexy, like she'd been up fucking all night!"
"Is that the only thing you think about?" Gogul snorted, almost irritably. "I know you talk to her. Your desk is right behind hers for fuck's sakes and you're telling me, after three months, you still only think about boning her?"
The younger man sat back in his seat, seemingly pondering the question, tapping his chin with his index finger. "Hmmm, gotta think about that one…uhhh, yeah!" he answered without hesitation.
"You're inhuman!" Gogul exclaimed.
Sengoku rolled his eyes, slumping in his seat. "Oh, will you fucking relax? I'm not completely insensitive! I'm twenty-six years old, sex is my brain's default setting regardless!"
Gogul sighed. "You didn't answer my question."
"Aw, will you give it a rest?" Sengoku folded his arms across his chest and glared at his 'friend'. Gogul knew very well that he hated talking about anything 'girly' like feelings and relationships or, god forbid, love. He rolled his eyes and suppressed the urge to retch. "Fine! If it makes you feel better, I actually feel guilty whenever I think about sex and Shoko in the same sentence," he sighed finally.
The big man raised his eyebrows. He hadn't expected that one. "Really?" he asked, his voice tinged with suspicion.
"Yeah, kinda," Sengoku answered with nod. He glanced up at Gogul and smirked. "Happy now?"
Gogul shrugged, deciding to change the subject. It was pretty apparent Sengoku probably wasn't going to say anything more than that. "So, have you decided on what you're going to wear?"
Sengoku shrugged. "She said I have to wear a suit and tie," he replied, his eyes not lifting from the table.
"Aha! Looks like someone's going shopping!" Gogul laughed gleefully. He knew better than anyone about Sengoku's secret addiction to department stores and designer clothes. Everyone at the department, including Hasegawa, simply assumed the low survival-rate of Sengoku's paycheque was due to some kind of alcohol problem, but Gogul knew it was more like a shopping problem. He had seen the inside of Sengoku's closet: the guy had about every designer creation in one shape or the other stuffed in there. Sengoku was very good at keeping it secret though. Whenever Okyo wanted to take him shopping with her, he would always make sure he kept to the traditional male role of carrying all of the woman's bags and making sure that "Kill me" was written across his forehead for the duration.
The younger man nodded. "Yup." He glanced up at his colleague and grinned mischievously. "Wanna come?"By Thursday, Sengoku had managed to find a rather nice, reasonably priced, suit and tie ensemble at one of the finer men's department stores. It wasn't anything special: a pair of black pants and jacket, a white button-down dress shirt with a dark blue neck-tie but even Gogul had to admit that he looked 'nice'. Gogul had advised him to make sure his collar wouldn't be visible to everyone who would be there. At first Sengoku had brushed him off, but eventually decided to follow his friend's advice. It would be awkward enough anyways without making it obvious that he didn't belong there. In the end, though, everything seemed to be working out. Shoko had made arrangements to pick him up at his place around five thirty, even though he was having a hard time getting used to the fact that, for the first time in his life, a woman was actually coming to get him rather than the other way round.
As the day drew nearer, Sengoku found himself becoming more and more apprehensive about the whole thing. What if he didn't fit in? What if she left him alone for too long? The answer to the first question was almost a certainty. He was definitely not going to look, talk or act like the class of person that would be there, and eventually Shoko would have to desert him at some point, to go to the bathroom if nothing else. Stop being a baby! You finally got a 'date' with her and you're thinking about backing out? It's not like Shoko's one of them anyhow!
That much was true. Shoko's reasons for inviting him had been very plain: she wanted company, and the reason she wanted company was that she was uncomfortable because she herself didn't fit in. And she was classy enough to at least introduce him to the people they would happen to bump into. Not that he was actually interested in hanging out with anyone else, but it would at least make things a bit less awkward. So he resigned himself to two days of nail biting and decided to grin and bear it. After all, how bad could it be?"Oh, I like it!"
Shoko twirled to look at herself in the full length mirror on her bedroom wall. Her former co-worker Aiko Sugiyama was perched on her bed, one leg tucked underneath her, inspecting Shoko's dress with a smirk. She glanced up into her friend's eyes, grinning, "Very slutty."
"Oh come on! It's not that bad!" Shoko laughed.
Aiko shrugged. "Well, it could be worse. Your boobs could be hanging out of the dress instead of your ass!"
Shoko stuck her tongue out and took one final look at herself in the mirror. She had spent over four hours yesterday evening searching for the perfect dress for this evening and she was damn pleased with her selection: a dark blue, long-sleeved gown made from a soft, clingy material, whose neckline completely covered the front of her body up to her collar bone. But the whole point of this particular dress was the back which dipped down off her shoulders to a point that tapered just below the small of her back, about an inch and a half above the crack of her ass. Aiko had been disapproving at first, saying that any dress where underwear is a definite no-no…is a definite no-no.
"Y'know," Aiko mused, taking a sip from her wine glass. "On anyone else, i.e, those people with over two percent body fat, that dress would look really nasty. But on you, little Miss. One-Percent, it actually looks fairly elegant."
Shoko wrinkled her nose and plopped down onto the bed with her back facing her friend. Without a word, Aiko started the somewhat arduous process of doing Shoko's hair. "I don't have one percent body fat," Shoko snorted, rolling her eyes incredulously.
Aiko sighed. "All I'm saying, dearie, is that all your fat looks like it's in your tits and nowhere else. I'd be surprised if you even knew what cellulite was."
"Yeah, well, it's not like I don't work hard for it," Shoko sighed.
"Ah, very true." Aiko paused for a moment in concentration. "Sooo, tell me. Slutty dress, makeup, manicured nails, hair done by someone other than yourself. Who is it we're trying to impress?"
Shoko smiled innocently. "Someone at work," she answered, her voice carrying a hint of mystery.
Aiko burst out laughing. "Aha! Finally realizing your boss has the hots for you then?"
"Shut up!" Shoko snickered. "I have a date."
The other woman's eyebrows shot up. "Oooh, really? Is he cute?"
Shoko giggled. "He's…tall," she answered enigmatically.
Aiko snickered filthily. "And we all know that means!"
It took her a moment to figure out what that one meant, but when she did Shoko reached around and smacked her friend playfully on her shoulder. "Do you kiss your children with that mouth?"
The other woman shrugged. "What they don't know can't hurt them," she replied as she pinned the remainder of Shoko's hair into place with another clip. "There. Done!"
Shoko smiled broadly, leaping up to look in the mirror, squealing happily when she saw the result. Her hair had been parted at the side and pulled up off her neck into a large but tidy-looking bun that, to Shoko, looked like a big, but strangely delicate pin-cushion. "Oh, I could never have done that myself," she muttered to herself as she twisted to get a better look at the back.
"And that's why you called me, right?" Aiko asked, gasping when her friend planted a big kiss on her forehead. "Oh, hey, a simple 'thank you' woulda been sufficient!"
Shoko smiled and nodded. "Thank you!" She straightened up and regarded her friend solemnly. "So, how do I look?"
Aiko paused then grinned. "You look lovely."Sengoku glanced at the clock on the wall of the lobby of his apartment building and sighed, cursing himself silently for coming down so early. What kind of man comes down five minutes early? And while we're at it, what kind of man gets picked up on the first date? But, then again, this was a special occasion. He doubted whether or not he would have been able to pick her up from her place anyhow.
He happened to glance out the window just as a black stretch limo was pulling up to the curb. With a deep breath, Sengoku shoved his hands into his pockets, schooling his face to nonchalance, and made his way to the street. As he neared the street the door nearest him swung open. Shoko was sitting, her body twisted slightly to face him, legs crossed, hands folded neatly in her lap, smiling brilliantly. "Hi," she greeted in a cheerful voice.
Sengoku grinned. "You look nice," he said as he slid into the seat beside her.
Shoko smiled, looking him up and down appraisingly. "You don't look so bad yourself. I guess you're gonna have to be my official escort from now on," she giggled. "Nervous?"
"A little," he replied with a nervous grin and a quirk of his eyebrows.
The young woman laughed. "Yeah well don't be. I don't plan on stranding you in this sea of assholes."
Sengoku breathed a theatrical sigh of relief. "That's comforting."About twenty minutes later, Sengoku happened to glance out the window as the car came to a halt. Shoko leaned across him to get a better look out the window, smiling when she realized they had arrived. "This is it," she announced, flashing him a mischievous grin. "Wanna help me out of the car?"
It took Sengoku a millisecond longer than usual to respond, as he had just then noticed the back of Shoko's dress, mesmerized by the sight of the bare, smooth skin of her back and the thought of how soft and firm the rest of her must be. "Uh, sure," he stammered finally, stepping out of the car, turning immediately to take her hand. Not that she needed the help of course she seemed to manage perfectly well on her own.
"Thank you." Instead of taking her hand back, as he half expected she would, she hooked her arm around his.
Sengoku smiled to himself. Maybe tonight wasn't going to be so bad. Apparently the only downside of this evening would probably be keeping his hard-on to himself.
She pulled ahead slightly, unhooking her arm from his, to give her invitation over to the bouncers at the door, who smiled broadly when they saw her. "Hi guys," she greeted.
"Hey Yomikawa," the bigger one said, ignoring Sengoku's presence as he ran his eyes over Shoko's form, licking his smiling lips as he did so. "Looking good as usual."
Shoko smiled. "Thank you very much." She placed her hand on Sengoku's shoulder. "He's with me."
The two bouncers glanced at each other then at Sengoku, looking him up and down with a certain amount of hostility. Then they flashed another smile at Shoko, "Carry on. Have fun."
"I'll try," she chuckled, taking a few steps forward, letting Sengoku fall into step with her.
The two men turned to watch them as they walked off. Sengoku turned his head and smirked at them, resting his hand on the small of Shoko's back, fingertips just barely touching her bare skin. "Friends of yours?" he asked as he turned back to the matter at hand.
"Uh, not really," Shoko replied with a laugh. "They're just a couple of beat cops who wish they had what it takes."
Sengoku burst out laughing. He was used to Shoko's sporadic use of male Japanese. At first it had kind of freaked him out, to hear someone who often looked so delicate and feminine, suddenly burst out in language even he himself would think twice about. "To do what, dare I ask?"
Shoko looked up at him, biting her lower lip, making a circle with her thumb and index finger with her right hand and inserting the index finger of her left, giggling enthusiastically when Sengoku laughed and rolled his eyes. "Sorry I asked!"
They sauntered into one of the biggest rooms Sengoku had ever been in, with high ceilings and balconies, four crystal chandeliers at each quarter of the room orbiting one gigantic chandelier at the centre directly above an enormous dance floor that was already inundated with people. Large round tables had been set up in a semicircle around the dance floor, each one numbered with the names of the attendees at each place. "Wanna drink?" Shoko asked after a moment's silence. When Sengoku nodded, she quickly reached out and snatched two glasses of champagne off the tray of one of the passing waiters, handing one to him, laughing as she watched him toss it back in one movement. "Feel better?"
Sengoku nodded. He glanced around the room. It was safe to say that he and Shoko were easily the youngest people there. Everyone else seemed to be at least in their late thirties. "Is you-know-who going to be here?" he asked quietly.
Shoko paused mid-sip, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. "Y'mean Hasegawa? Yeah, unfortunately," she said, setting her empty champagne glass down on a passing waiter's tray, grabbing another two glasses of the expensive liquid and handing one to Sengoku. "Don't worry though, we probably won't see much of him unless he's at our table."
"Hello Yomikawa-chan," a deep male voice suddenly greeted from behind them. Sengoku could practically feel Shoko tense beside him. He glanced down at her to see the young woman close her eyes, pressing her lips together in seeming irritation. The man behind them had to have been about sixty, slightly overweight, a few inches shorter than Sengoku. His skin was a sickly kind of pink color that screamed alcoholism. He greeted them with a big toothy grin that was creepy enough to make even Sengoku cringe.
Nevertheless, Shoko turned, tucking in her chin, wrapping her fingers loosely around Sengoku's wrist, if anything just to show the older man that she wasn't alone. "Good evening sir," she replied coldly, not a glimmer of smile crossing her lips. She nodded to the glass of whiskey in her superior's hand. "How many's that now sir?"
A hint of a snarl slid over the older man's lips, but he quickly smiled a little too broadly, his glassy eyes slithering over to Sengoku's face, narrowing slightly. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?" he asked.
Shoko smirked mirthlessly. "Commissioner Tanagawa, this is Sengoku Shunsuke. We work together."
Tanagawa's expression became humorous. "Sengoku?" he repeated, eyebrow arching inquisitively. "You're of no relation to the Sengoku who was a classmate of Hasegawa's?"
Sengoku's breath caught in his throat, as he felt the blood drain from his face. He had always known this day would come but he'd never really worked out a way to deal with it, meeting someone who had known his father. If he told the truth this guy would know who he was and if he lied, Tanagawa could just look up his file or, even worse, ask Hasegawa at dinner tonight. His eyes darted anxiously to Shoko's face, who was now staring up at him sympathetically. "My father," he answered finally.
The commissioner's smile was nothing less than triumphant. "Ah, I thought so. You're the very face of him." He jumped slightly as Shoko took a step forward, planting herself in front of Sengoku.
"Don't you have hands to shake?" she asked, glaring up into his face.
Tanagawa smiled graciously. "Yes, business before pleasure I'm afraid." He inclined his head, eyes flitting between Sengoku's face and hers. "Have a nice evening." With a final nod, he stepped past them. As he left, Sengoku heard Shoko sigh, seemingly with relief. She glanced up at him and smiled. "He tends to grab my ass whenever he gets behind me."
Sengoku's eyebrows shot up. "Are you serious?" he exclaimed with a laugh, although he got the impression Shoko did not find it funny.
The young woman nodded, taking a big swallow of her champagne. "Yeah, he's a lecher." She raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Guess he knew your daddy then, eh?"
"Seems that way," he muttered with a shrug. "Sure hope we don't have to talk to him again tonight."
"Ah, with my luck he'll be at our table," Shoko said sarcastically. She took a quick look around the room. "Uh, I think we're table six, speaking of which." Her eyes darted quickly to the large, ornately designed clock on the far wall of the room. "Dinner's at seven."
Sengoku inclined his head. "So, why does git-face make you come to these things anyways?"
Shoko shrugged. "Well, technically, it's kinda my job. He's usually too busy to go to these things, what with keeping you guys under control and everything else. So he makes it part of my job."
"So, how come he's here tonight, if he's usually so busy?" Sengoku asked.
"Cuz, this time, I was actually officially invited," she replied with a meaningful smirk.
Sengoku grinned and raised an eyebrow. "By Tanagawa?"
The young woman laughed and, with a nod, hooked her arm around his, leading him off to their table for dinner.Surprisingly, however, Tanagawa was actually not seated at their table, much to Shoko's relief. And the other couples at their table seemed to be about as interested in talking to them as they were, so they were virtually undisturbed as they sat and enjoyed the fine food that was being served. Every so often, someone would stop, tap Shoko on the shoulder and murmur a greeting or a compliment in her ear. Shoko in turn would smile, often very warmly depending on her apparent level of comfort with the person, and introduce Sengoku as one of her 'friends' from work. Most of the time, the person would smile, seemingly uninterested in his actual job, or his past, and then carry on about their business, often giving Shoko a friendly pat on the shoulder as they passed.
The dinner was wonderful, arriving in so many courses that Sengoku lost count after the first three, each plate arriving in an exquisite albeit small arrangement. Shoko chatted amiably with him the entire time about all manner of things: her job, her older brother, her old army buddies. She stayed away from anything that had to do with her past specifically, and Sengoku never pushed her to reveal anything.
Initially, it had been difficult concentrating on any kind of meaningful conversation. Sengoku found his gaze wandering from Shoko's eyes to the bare skin at the curve of her neck or her moist, pink lips. She really was lovely, it was no wonder Gogul got annoyed whenever Sengoku mentioned sex and Shoko in the same sentence. He could almost see how someone could begin to think of her as sort of almost doll-like, the kind of creature you want to look at but are afraid to touch for fear of making her dirty. But not him. Just seeing Shoko like that, all primped and proper, all neat and tidy, whether it was at work or in a setting like this, Sengoku always wondered what she looked like while she was being fucked: how her thick, black hair would stick to her skin, the shape her lips would make when she moaned, and just how flushed her lovely bronze skin would become.
But, at the same time, and much to his surprise, he realized about an hour into dinner, that he had almost forgotten that he was talking to a woman. It was as if he was talking to an extremely attractive man, someone who talked like a man almost constantly, didn't seem to care what the other people at the table thought, and was interested in things Sengoku had always been certain women could not possibly have been into. She was fabulous!
When dinner finished and the last of the plates had been cleared, Sengoku glanced over at her smiling, "Wanna dance?"
Shoko's eyes widened in alarm, face flushing suddenly. "Oh, no, thanks," she said quickly. "I don't dance."
He raised an eyebrow. "Don't? Or can't?"
Instead of becoming defensive Shoko never flinched, shrugging and shaking her head calmly. "I can't, I have no rhythm for that kind of dancing."
Sengoku's brow furrowed. "That kind of dancing? Y'mean ballroom?"
"Uh-huh, that kind of dancing," she replied, pointing with her wine glass towards the dance floor.
"I guess I'll just have to teach you then," he sighed, getting up out of his chair, looking down at her expectantly.
Shoko glanced around nervously then up at him. "Promise not to embarrass me?" she asked quietly.
He laid his hand over his heart solemnly. "I promise."Hasegawa stifled a yawn as he scowled in the direction of the time. Only nine o'clock. No wonder he tried to get out of these things as much as he could. Poor Shoko was off somewhere, probably with Tanagawa breathing down her neck again. He wondered idly if perhaps he should go and find her, see how she was getting on. As the thought crossed his mind, his eyes began to wander in the direction of the dance floor. That was funny, he thought he saw Shoko dancing of all things.
Ha, that can't possibly be her. And who the fuck would she be dancing with? But that girl looked awfully familiar: tall, remarkably fit and trim, the same bronzy-pink skin tone, and evidently the same taste in rather flamboyant evening dresses, judging from the way her dress just barely stopped above the crack of her arse. But the more he stared, the more he began to realize it really was her. Okay, so maybe it was her. Either way, she looked like she hadn't a clue what she was doing, her eyes remaining glued to her partner's feet. Hey, who the fuck is that anyways?
Hasegawa sat up straight suddenly, craning his neck to get a better look at his favourite employee's dancing partner. He looked kind of familiar also, even from behind, and despite the fact that he was keeping his head down, very reminiscent of someone he saw on a regular basis. Hasegawa's eyes widened in alarm as he suddenly became aware of the young man's ponytail. Sengoku?! That little bitch fucking brought him here as her date?! That must have been the case, there was no way Sengoku would ever come near a place like this if there wasn't a damn good reason.
Shoko suddenly lifted her head to look into Sengoku's face and laugh. As she did so, her eyes just happened to meet her boss'. Instead of ducking her head in embarrassment, as Hasegawa figured she had damned good reason to be doing under the circumstances, the little minx winked and grinned, wriggling her fingers in a kind of wave as she was swept along to another part of the dance floor. Hasegawa gaped after them, his eyes widened in amazement. He certainly hoped Shoko was ready for the shitstorm she was in for on Monday morning.Shoko could not have been more satisfied with the effect she had obviously had on her boss. Apparently the combination of the provocative dress and showing up with Sengoku had ruffled just the feathers she had wanted. She decided not to let on to Sengoku that she'd seen him though. No use ruining the mood. And the evening was working out far better than she had ever expected. She was having a wonderful time, easily the best time she had had in ages, whether at an official function or not. Sengoku was possibly the most entertaining person she had spent time with. He obviously got a kick out of making her laugh, chiding her about her obvious lack of dancing experience, as he quietly counted out steps for her to follow, growling good-naturedly whenever she happened to step on his toes by accident.
"How come you're so good at this?" she asked suspiciously as soon as she felt confident enough to think about something other than where her feet were.
Sengoku grinned a little sheepishly, face flushing slightly. "It's a long story."
The young woman smiled, eyes half-closed. "This is going to be a long party," she reminded him in a sing-song voice.
With a theatrical sigh and a roll of his eyes, Sengoku gave in. "I took classes when I was younger."
Shoko's eyebrows shot up, her jaw dropping. "You took ballroom dance classes?"
"It wasn't my choice!" he exclaimed emphatically. After a brief pause, he said, "It was my mom's."
"Bit of a mama's boy were we?" Shoko asked, smiling cheekily.
Sengoku laughed. "No! I ended up taking them because my mother originally signed up to take them with my dad. But, of course, my dad refused, said they were a waste of time and shit," he explained.
Shoko tilted her head to one side. "So she recruited you?"
"Pretty much," he answered with a smirk. He shrugged. "But anyways, I ended up going with her to these classes for a few months. It wasn't so bad…aside from my mother letting on that I was her boyfriend and not her son."
Shoko burst out laughing. "Oh, awkward!"
Sengoku nodded, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, no shit," he chuckled. "But I kinda knew she was just doing it for fun. And all the other women there figured we were related anyways."
"Was your mom like the traditional Japanese housewife?" she asked quietly, lowering her eyes to the floor to check where her feet were.
"Mostly," Sengoku replied with a shrug. He grinned down at her. "What about your mother? You never mentioned her."
There was a brief yet pregnant pause and he immediately wished he hadn't asked. But eventually she smiled, "Oh, I never knew my mother." She saw him furrow his brow curiously, but purse his mouth in the apparent effort to keep from asking, she said, "She died when I was a baby."
His response came in the form of a scrunched up face and a mouthed, "Sorry."
Shoko laughed and patted his shoulder. "Nah, I've had loads of time to get over it! Sorry, I asked about yours. I've always been curious about other people's moms." She raised her eyebrows inquisitively, nodding towards the open balcony doors over to their right. "Wanna get some air?"
Sengoku nodded. "Sure."
"Good, it's getting too stuffy in here." With that, she grabbed his hand and led the way through the now crowded ball room towards the large double glass doors that opened out onto the balcony. There was one other couple there already, standing close together, leaning against the stone railings. Shoko walked over to a big stone bench that was set against one wall, and perched herself on it, hands resting on either side of her legs.
"You're not cold?" Sengoku asked as he settled himself next to her. It wasn't that cold for an autumn evening, but there was a distinct chill in the air that was rather hard to ignore, especially with all that lovely bare skin.
She shook her smiling. "Nope. The cold doesn't bother me that much."
Sengoku grinned, slouching in his seat, kicking his legs out in front of him. "Where'd you grow up?" he snickered.
"Aomori," she answered matter-of-factly, turning her head to look down at him.
The young man's eyes widened. "Aomori? That's the fuckin' boonies!"
Shoko laughed. She was used to that reaction by now. Most of the people she worked with had the impression that she was an Oedo native. The truth was that Shoko had spent years getting rid of her northern accent and cultivating the image of a young, Oedo hipster. "Yeah," she giggled, completely amused by Sengoku's obvious amazement.
"But you don't have an accent or anything!" he exclaimed, eyes still like saucers.
"No, I got rid of it," Shoko replied. She turned her body slightly, letting her shoulder rest against the back of the bench so she was eye level with Sengoku. "Not bad, eh?"
Sengoku shook his head. "I never would've guessed that you grew up out there," he said. "So, when did you come to Oedo?"
"Well, let's see," she murmured, taking a moment to think. "It was about a week after my eighteenth birthday." Sengoku seemed to be absolutely riveted so she decided to keep on going. "I guess I moved here after I decided to join the army."
"Yeah, about that," Sengoku began, furrowing his brow thoughtfully. "I've always kinda wondered why the fuck someone like you would decide to join the army."
Shoko inclined her head. It was always intriguing, the impression people tended to get about her. Gogul had asked her the same question when they had first met. For some strange reason, the big man had thought that she was some kind of 'normal' girl who just happened to end up on the wrong path. The truth, he had found, was far removed from that. "What do you mean 'someone like me'?" she asked finally.
Sengoku shrugged. "Hm, I guess it's just that I thought only ugly girls went into the army," he said bluntly.
A big grin made its way across Shoko's face. So, we know now that he thinks I'm pretty. "Well, I did shave my head after I joined," she chuckled.
"You shaved your head?" Sengoku cried, loudly enough for them both to glance around to see if anyone else had heard.
"Uh-huh," she replied. "I had to if I wanted to be taken seriously. Of course, after I got transferred to Special Ops, I started growing it back out again."
"Bullshit!" Sengoku exclaimed in a hushed but good-humoured voice. "I thought there weren't any women in that!"
Shoko sat up straight, smiling down at him rather smugly. "I'll prove it to you," she said her eyes gleaming. "Put your fingers on the back of my neck, just at the nape."
With a moment's hesitation, Sengoku sat up, placing his index and middle fingers just at the nape of her neck underneath the hairline. "Under your hair?" he asked, having no clue what the hell she was on about.
"Uh-huh."
He very gently pressed his fingers against the spot she indicated, immediately feeling a small hole, with a kind of metal ring around it. "Holy fuckin' shit! It's a plug!" he exclaimed, pulling his hand away slightly as he stared at her in awe. "How many do you have?"
"Just the one. Last I heard, operatives nowadays have four of them. So, I'm a little out of date." She twisted to look at him, cat like smile on her lips. "Believe me now?"
Sengoku sighed. "Welp, even though lots of people in this city have some kind of plug somewhere on their body, I figure you wouldn't be working for Hasegawa if you weren't pretty hot shit, so I guess I'll take your word for it."
Shoko gave him a satisfied nod, realizing suddenly that the balcony was now deserted. Judging from the sounds of applause that were coming from inside, it must have been speech time. She usually made it her first priority to get out of there as soon as she could while everyone was distracted. But she wasn't quite ready to end the evening just yet. "Uh, hey, do you wanna get out of here?" she asked quietly.
A hint of panic made its way into Sengoku's face. "You wanna leave already?" he asked.
"The party, yeah," she replied.
Sengoku grinned to himself. Obviously the implication was that she still wanted him to hang around. He sat up and nudged her with his shoulder, grinning broadly, a wonderful idea occurring to him. "Wanna go somewhere more fun?"She had been a tad apprehensive about going to a club dressed as she was. But Sengoku had been positive that they would be fine and if anyone looked at them funny, well, they could always just tell them to 'fuck off'. Shoko hadn't been so sure. When they arrived, however, Shoko had realized that Sengoku had been right. Most of the people standing in line waiting to be IDed were dressed the same way they were. "What kind of club is this again?" she asked suspiciously as she rummaged around in her little black purse for her identification.
"Well, technically it's a lounge so people tend to dress a little more upscale," Sengoku explained as he flashed his ID to the bouncer in front of the door, waiting just inside the entrance as Shoko went through the same security process as he just had.
A few moments later they were inside, standing on the long spiral staircase that led into the bar area. Shoko glanced around smiling gleefully. This had been a brilliant idea. The large dance floor was crowded with people dancing to variations of all the latest songs she had heard from the radio. She smirked at Sengoku. "Shall we?"
"After you," he replied, letting her lead the way down the stairs.
They decided to stop first at the bar. Sengoku ordered Shoko an apple martini and one of those vodka coolers for himself, guiding her to a secluded semi-circular seating area in the corner of the room. Shoko tossed one of the many embroidered decorative cushions aside before sitting down, placing her drink on the small table in front of them after taking a sip. "So, do you come here often?" she asked, smiling coyly at Sengoku as he sat across from her.
"Uh, no," he laughed, "it's not somewhere you come when you're by yourself."
Shoko nodded knowingly. "Good point."
Sengoku shrugged. "Anyways, I don't know that many girls at the moment."
The young woman nodded knowingly, her lips pouting sympathetically. "Haven't been laid in awhile then?" she asked.
Sengoku laughed a little self-consciously, feeling his face flushing in the dim light. "Do I count as a sexual partner for myself?" he asked sarcastically.
Shoko giggled. "Unfortunately, I don't think your right hand counts!"
"Aw, shit, that sucks," he replied, making a pathetic face.
Shoko patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, I'm the same."
Sengoku blinked. Shit, this chick obviously has men lining up at her door to fuck her and she hasn't done any of them? What the hell's the problem? "What's the matter? Too fussy?" he asked, arching an eyebrow curiously.
"Mm, kind of," she answered, wrinkling her nose. "I have certain standards when it comes to guys."
Oh, this should be interesting, Sengoku thought. "Like?"
She shrugged. "Well, I have a rule about not dating regular guys," she answered rather hesitantly.
Sengoku furrowed his brow. "Regular guys?"
Shoko let out a nervous laugh, bringing her hands to her face in embarrassment. Sengoku reached over and poked her in the ribs with his index finger, chanting, "Tell me, tell me, tell me…" Finally, she squirmed away to look at him, "Guys without a criminal record," she said in an almost questioning voice.
He stared at her blankly for a few moments then grinned. "Wow," he muttered, grabbing his drink from the table, eyes fixed on the wall in front of them, "that's fucked up."
Shoko jabbed him in the arm with surprising force for something that was obviously meant to be playful, but he laughed all the same, wondering off-handedly if this was how Shoko showed affection. "Why's it fucked up?"
Sengoku looked at her seriously. "Is that your only rule?" he asked.
Shoko bit her bottom lip as she thought about it, then nodded, "Pretty much."
"No one-night stand rule?"
For the first time that evening, Sengoku detected a hint of seductiveness in the smile she gave him after that question. She shrugged slowly. "One-night stands are out."
Sengoku smirked, leaning in a little bit closer, pleasantly surprised when she gave no hint of wanting to move away. "What about fucking on a first date?"
Shoko inclined her head thoughtfully, fixing her mouth into a seductive pout. "Oh, that's only if he makes me very horny," she replied, her voice a low whisper.
Sengoku tilted his head to one side thoughtfully. "Well, if that's it then I can think of a couple of guys who'd be interested."
A few moments later, she smiled and stood, closing the remaining gap between them, and delicately perched herself on his lap, placing one arm around his neck for support. She smiled warmly, her eyes half-closed, bringing her face close to his, the tip of her nose just touching his. "I think the ball's in your court," she murmured softly.
They both hesitated for a moment, even though both knew what the other wanted, planting feather-light kisses on each others' lips, before Sengoku finally tilted his head to the side, gently placing a hand on the back of Shoko's neck, and planted a long, deep kiss on her mouth, his free hand moving to her waist. He felt her relax slightly, flicking her tongue over his as she wrapped her free arm around his neck. She squirmed slightly to find a more comfortable position, squeaking when he lifted her slightly and shifted her off of his lap onto the empty space next to him, twisting to keep his mouth on hers. "Better?" he asked quickly returning his hand to her waist.
Shoko smirked, nipping at his bottom lip gently. "Uh-huh, but is it okay for you?"
Sengoku shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."
"Would you prefer somewhere more quiet?" she asked, pulling away just far enough to look at him. The glint of mischief in her eyes was unmistakable.
He half-grinned at her. "What did you have in mind?"Shoko smiled to herself as she stumbled into the front hallway of her apartment, quickly toeing off her stilettos, waiting with her back pressed against the wall, as Sengoku did the same, giggling when Sengoku placed his hands on her hips, planting firm biting kisses down her neck, his fresh erection rubbing against her aching cunt. It felt great to finally be with a man who obviously knew what he was doing. It had taken all their willpower to save the main event for the privacy of Shoko's apartment, although she had been more than happy to go down on him on the ride over.
Sengoku had been a bit shocked by her eagerness, politely asserting that she by no means had to. She was prepared to swear he had been a little bit embarrassed. Apparently he had thought blowjobs were something girls weren't supposed to enjoy, and Shoko knew most girls didn't exactly ask to suck a man's cock. Shoko, however, had developed a liking for it, there was something inexplicably arousing about bringing a guy to orgasm, letting him come in her mouth. And there was the added sexiness of getting an idea of what was in store for her later.
She groaned softly as she felt him trail his hands up from her hips to cup her breasts, thumbs rubbing firmly over her nipples, the filmy fabric only serving to heighten the sensation. In one movement, she gently tugged at the top of her dress, peeling it off her shoulders, letting him pull it down as far as her waist. Before he could bend to kiss her bare breasts, she caught his mouth with hers, drawing his head back up, hands reaching for his fly.
He broke away momentarily, helping her unbutton his pants. "Where's the bedroom?" he murmured in her ear, nipping at her earlobe as he started to pull her dress up her legs, sliding his hands underneath to run his hands up the firm, smooth skin of her thighs.
"Uh-uh," Shoko breathed, shaking her head, gasping when Sengoku's hands cupped her ass, his thumbs roughly tugging the miniscule g-string she was wearing down her legs. "Here," was all she could manage.
Without a word, he placed a hand just under her thigh, pulling her leg up over his hip, lifting her slightly. Shoko gasped when she felt the tip of his cock pressing against the slick opening of her cunt, tilting her head back at the sensation of him lowering her onto himself. She wasn't too sure whether it was the fact that he was easily the biggest man she had ever been with, or that he was absolutely as hard a fucking rock, that made her feel as if she couldn't move even as she tried to lift herself to get more leverage. He must have sensed her desire for deeper penetration, if that was at all possible, and swiftly grabbed her by the ass, lifting her off her feet and bracing her against the wall, completely impaling her on his cock. Shoko moaned softly, biting her lip to keep from passing out.
Sengoku's thrusts were hard and quick, keeping himself buried deep inside what had to be the sweetest, tightest, most deliciously wet piece of flesh he had ever felt. Shoko was panting loudly now, her voice coming in short little whimpers, throbbing cunt tightening like a vice around him as his cock began to rub what must have been one of her sweet spots. She was almost exactly as he'd pictured: her long black hair loose and disheveled, her skin flushed and glowing with sweat, those perfect pink lips swollen and wet. Just looking at her made him want to blow his load, so he closed his eyes burying his face in her neck, trying desperately not to be overcome too soon. Her head snapped back suddenly, legs tightening around his waist as if to pull him deeper inside herself, her cunt gripping his cock like a hand, milking the length of him. He almost didn't realize he was coming at first, unable to distinguish where her orgasm finished and his began, groaning when he became aware of it, his hips jerking hard as he came. It was a while before he had the presence of mind to remember where he was, or to realize that his arms were now aching from carrying the weight of Shoko's body in his arms for the twenty-odd minutes they'd been fucking.
He opened his eyes, only to find Shoko looking back at him, forehead resting against his. She smiled as he lowered her to her feet, keeping her arms around his neck. He nipped at her lower lip gently.
"Mm, shall we go to bed now?" Shoko giggled softly.
They both froze suddenly, eyes widening, as they heard a light coughing sound, like someone clearing their throat, come from Sengoku's left. Shoko jerked her head suddenly towards the noise, looking completely mortified. Sengoku followed her gaze, jumping when he noticed the tall, slim young man who was standing in the hallway, hands in the pockets of his jeans, regarding them with an air of amusement on his face.
He shifted his gaze to Shoko, his smile widening into a grin. "Did I catch you at a bad time, sis?"
Shoko's eyes narrowed angrily as she loosened herself from Sengoku's grip, pulling her dress back up over her shoulders. "I thought you said you weren't coming til Monday," she said from between clenched teeth, her mouth fixed into an irritated scowl.Sengoku stared open-mouthed, eyes darting between the two remarkably similar faces, trying to come to grips with his position. This was, needless to say, not the way he had wanted to meet Shoko's brother. He quickly, and as surreptitiously as he could, zipped up his pants and tucked his shirt back into place.
The young man, shrugged, seemingly completely unaffected by what he had seen, exactly how much he had seen Sengoku was beginning to wonder. "I changed my plans," he answered. His eyes shifted to Sengoku's face, eyes gleaming smugly. "Hey man," he greeted.
"Hey," Sengoku replied, his voice barely audible, glancing at Shoko who was now standing, arms folded across her chest, one hand on her forehead.
She suddenly lifted her head, gesturing to her brother. "Sengoku, this is my older brother Yoshiyuki. Yoshiyuki, this is Sengoku," she said in a resigned voice. Her eyes met Sengoku's somewhat apologetically, "Sorry about this."
Yoshiyuki smiled brightly, throwing an arm around Sengoku's neck. "Whatever, my sister's being a bitch as usual. You wanna drink, man?" he asked. Before Sengoku could reply, he found himself being pulled off in the direction of what he assumed was the living room.
He was reasonably certain that 'wanna drink?' was code in Yoshiyuki's language for: 'would you like me to chop you into tiny pieces for ever even thinking of looking at my sister', but Sengoku was hardly in a position to argue. But the guy seemed friendly enough under the circumstances, sitting him down on the sofa and tossing a beer can into his lap, collapsing onto the seat cushion a little further down. "So, you work with Shoko then?" Yoshiyuki asked, taking a swig of his beer.
Sengoku's eyes narrowed a little suspiciously. "Uh, yeah."
Yoshiyuki laughed, giving Sengoku a rather hard smack on the shoulder. "Hey, don't worry, my sister doesn't need me to be her chaperone. She can take care of herself."That BASTARD! Shoko scowled as she briskly changed into a fresh set of clothes. Not only had his presence completely mortified her, but because of him she was now going to miss out on a great night of sex! Bastard! She ran her fingers through her hair as she kicked open the door to her bedroom and marched out into the hallway, only to hear the sound of laughter coming from the direction of the living room. It wasn't just Yoshiyuki's stupid guffaw either, she was certain she could hear Sengoku as well.
She carefully tiptoed down the hall, careful to keep off the creaky floorboards. What in the world could they possibly be talking about? "Nah, that's okay man! She totally needed a decent boning!" she heard Yoshiyuki say, feeling her face go red in a combination of fury and embarrassment. Why was he always so goddamned vulgar?
"I heard that," Shoko snapped as she rounded the corner, plopping herself down on the floor in front of the big glass coffee table in front of the couch where the men were sitting. "You're so filthy."
Her brother snorted, taking a long swig of his beer. "Right, and you're Little Miss Manners."
Shoko rolled her eyes, snatching a beer from the remaining six-pack that was sitting in front of her. "At least I don't talk about your sex-life to a complete stranger."
Yoshiyuki paused thoughtfully, tilting his head to one side. "Funny, you two didn't look like strangers ten minutes ago."
"I was talking about you."
"But you don't have a sex-life, so it's okay," Yoshiyuki muttered just loud enough for Sengoku to hear, grinning to himself when he saw the other man trying not to laugh.
Sengoku wasn't sure whether he was beginning to feel at ease because of all the alcohol Yoshiyuki was making him drink or whether it was because he was beginning to find the two siblings highly entertaining. There was evidently an enormous amount of rivalry between them which Sengoku, having been an only child, found rather fascinating. They were both very similar, not only in appearance, but he could see where Shoko got some of her personality from. Sometimes, though, he wondered if Yoshiyuki was just a tad bit mean, as he was constantly calling her 'Christmas cake' making fun of the fact that she wasn't married yet and, now that she had reached the big 26, would probably never be since 'guys don't like girls past their due date'. But Shoko seemed to take it all in stride.
They chatted for a while, Shoko and Yoshiyuki tossing insults back and forth, both of them taking great care to keep Sengoku in the loop, informing him who all the various names they dropped were and making sure he didn't feel left out. Every so often when Shoko would notice her brother slipping back into his almost incomprehensible Aomori-dialect, she would interrupt him and snap, "Yoshi-chan, speak standard!"
About an hour later, Shoko glanced at the clock and winced. It was nearing 3am. She glanced at Sengoku, who was starting to look a bit like he needed to go to bed. "Want me to take you home?" she asked quietly.
Sengoku shrugged. "If it's not that much trouble. Sure."
Shoko shook her head, smiling brightly. "Nope, no problem."
The three of them struggled to their feet. Yoshiyuki placed his hands on Shoko's shoulders and gave her a strangely affectionate shake. "I'm off to bed," he announced, kissing the top of her head. He nodded to Sengoku, stifling a yawn. "Nice meeting you."
The other man smiled and nodded. "You too. See ya around."
They followed him down the hall, Yoshiyuki turning into what must have been the spare bedroom, and Sengoku setting about the task of finding his shoes, toeing them on when he finally found them. He watched with amusement, leaning against the door, as Shoko pulled on a pair of steel-toed boots. She tilted her head up to look at him, apparently hearing him snickering. "What?"
Sengoku shrugged. "Nothing," he replied with a shrug. "It's just such a change from before."
Shoko smiled. "Sorry about that."
The young man shook his head as he followed her out of the apartment, waiting in the hall as Shoko locked the door behind her. "Nah, you always look good," he said matter-of-factly as she turned to face him.
She waved a hand at him incredulously, rolling her eyes as she led the way down the hall to the elevator.The drive back to his place was fairly peaceful, both of them dozing off and on most of the way. Shoko nudged him in the shoulder as soon as they had arrived. "I'll see you to the door?" she asked.
Sengoku nodded with a yawn as he climbed out of the car, giving her a push with his shoulder as he caught up with her halfway up the walk. "What's the big hurry? Wanna get rid of me?" he asked good-naturedly.
Shoko smiled a little self-consciously, tucking a lock of hair behind her right ear. "No," she answered in a kind of sing-song voice. She came to halt just outside the door, hand shoved into the pockets of her jean jacket. "Sorry about my brother," she said flatly, looking down at her feet. "He wasn't s'posed to be there."
Sengoku shook his head, rolling his eyes and sighing as he pulled her to him. He cupped her head in his hands, rubbing his thumbs across her cheeks, before leaning in to kiss her mouth gently. He straightened up a few moments later, loosely draping his arms around her neck and looked down at her smiling slightly. "Wanna do something later today? Have dinner? See a movie or something?"
The young woman laughed softly, nodding her head. "Yeah, that'd be nice."
"Can I pick you up this time?"
She nodded again. "Of course. You have my number, so just call me whenever you get up tomorrow."
He flashed a wicked grin. "And next time, we know not to go to your place afterwards!" he snickered.
Shoko pouted, genuinely happy that there was actually going to be a next time. "But right now I'm not invited up?"
Sengoku sighed and shook his head, still grinning. "Well, let's just say, my apartment is so messy I haven't actually seen my bed for like a month."
The young woman eyed him with mock suspicion. "Then where do you sleep?"
"Oh, on top of this pile of clothes I'm assuming has my bed somewhere under it," he answered quickly and solemnly. "Ha-ha, you think I'm joking!" he exclaimed when she started to laugh. "That's very cute."
Shoko nodded knowingly. "I believe you. Will you have found it by this evening?"
He kissed her mouth. "I'll do my best. So, I'll call you as soon as I'm up?"
"And if you don't, I know where you live," she replied, smiling sweetly.
Sengoku shivered theatrically. "Oh, don't worry, I'd think twice about pissing you off," he laughed. His expression changed slightly, trying to make himself seem more serious. "But, uh, I actually did have a lot of fun tonight. More than I thought I would."
"I'm glad. I did too. Well, until Yoshiyuki showed up, that is," she said, her brow furrowing slightly.
"Meh, gotta admit, it coulda been a lot worse," Sengoku mused, shrugging his shoulders.
Shoko cocked her head considering. "Yeah, I guess." She kissed his cheek and gently unhooked herself from his embrace. "Alright, time for you to go to bed!" she announced, giving him a push towards the door. "You're gonna need your rest!"
Sengoku half-grinned at her. "Oh, I dunno, I think you'll be needing it more than I will!"
Shoko rolled her eyes incredulously. "Whatever, we'll see about that one!" she shot back, beginning to walk backwards down the walkway to the street.
"Talk to you later!" he called after her, just before she turned the corner, hearing her yell, "Sure thing!" over her shoulder. With a happy sigh, he turned and pushed open the door to his apartment building.
As he collapsed on his bed fifteen minutes later, fully dressed except for his shoes, which he had kicked off at the door, he happened to glance at his answering machine. Hmm, one message. He absently pressed the 'play' button, smirking inwardly when Gogul's voice boomed over the speaker. "Hey, thought you'd be home by now So either you're in the middle of jerking off or you actually got lucky. Either way, lemme know how it went. Later."
Sengoku rolled over in bed, smiling contentedly as he drifted to sleep. He really couldn't wait to tell Gogul about this one.
© 2005 kendohotchick
© 2002-2004 WordWrights
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