All was silent and still in the early morning hours at the apartment of one Narashi Jo. The young mans living quarters were extraordinarily neat; or, perhaps not so extraordinarily so, seeing as he was rarely ever home to make a mess. The miss-matched furniture, bought second hand, was all in relatively good condition; and somehow seemed to go well with one another regardless of their dissimilarity. The kitchen counters were bare, save for a coffee pot and a toaster. The illuminated red numbers on the digital clock timer built into the coffee maker read 6:14am, the colon between the six and the two flashing at even intervals as the seconds passed. With a “click” the numbers changed to 6:15am, and the machine began heating the water hidden in its well. After a few moments, a caramel-black liquid began filling the clear glass pitcher that rested on the machines hot-plate; the scent of the near-boiling coffee wafting through the kitchen before dissipating into the living room and up the stairs to the hallway. The bedroom door sat slightly ajar, a slim crevice of light breaking the darkness of the upstairs hallway. Easily slipping through the seemingly infinite gap between door and frame, the coffee scent floated into the room.
Where the main living area of the apartment was neat and orderly, the bedroom was anything but tidy. Articles of clothing, both male and female, littered the room. Some thrown half-hazardly onto the dresser, others were simply laying on the floor where they fell. A brazier had, at some point, been flung onto one of the blades of the ceiling fan, which turned on the slowest available rotation frequency, comically twirling the undergarment. The fans gentle breeze churned and spun dust motes through the air, invisible save for when they passed through a solitary beam of sunlight that had forced its way between a pair of drawn curtains. It was a combination of this ray of light, the wafting scent of coffee, and an internal sense of time that awoke Jo from his slumber. Bleary hazel eyes fluttered open, then blinked solidly shut at the invasion of illumination. The young chunnin turned his head slightly to the left and, feeling the sun being shielded from his face, reopened his eyes to a most wonderful sight.
Laying in his arms was the embodiment of beauty, Takaki Saeko. Her head lay on his shoulder, the sunlight shining fruitlessly on tousled hair dark as night. Her eyes were still closed, her breath still deep and slow; the angel still slept. A peace lay about the fine features of her face; a softness where usually an unwavering mask of strength stood. The faultless splendor of her slumbering solace was breathtaking. Her imperfect perfection stunned Jo to silent stillness, though his left arm, trapped as it was, was tingling with numbness. Her right hand, he surmised, must feel the same, as it was currently tucked beneath his arm and pillow; but if it was, she was too deep in sleep to notice it. Her other hand rested on the center of his bare chest, the rest of her hugged close to him. Their nakedness was covered by tossed and tangled blankets and sheets, only Jo’s upper torso and Saeko’s shoulders lay bare.
For a few moments, Jo simply lay there and stared, awestruck by her beauty. A silent satisfaction washed over him as the memories of the previous night played over in his head. He wanted nothing more than to lay there with her forever. Alas, the ticking of the analog alarm clock on his nightstand reminded him that eternal happiness was out of reach. Time is the infinite jest. Jo closed his eyes, enjoying the peace while it lasted, only opening them every occasionally to check the clock. Six twenty… six twenty-four… At six twenty-nine Jo reached over with his free hand and turned off the alarm before it could release and wake his sleeping lover; but when he turned back, it was too late. Her obsidian eyes, half lidded with sleep, gazed into his; a soft smile playing on her lips. Lips that rose up to meet his as she pried her arm out from under his head and propped herself up.
”Good morning… how did you sleep?” her voice was soft and sultry, like black silk cascading across her lips.
”Well enough, what with your head crushing my arm. I was afraid it was going to have to be amputated before you woke up.” Jo jibbed playfully, flexing his fingers and shaking the feeling back into his arm.
Saeko’s eyes glared, though a tell-tale smirk made her reproach obviously playful. ”Well, I was lucky to get to sleep at all; what with you snoring like a freight-train.”
”Said the pot to the kettle! You sounded like a buzz-saw through hardwood. If I weren’t so exhausted I’d have been up sooner.”
“Oh, were you exhausted? I wonder why…?” She said, her eyes lighting up as she smiled a mischievous grin.
”Oh, I think it had something to do with this.” Jo said, kissing her deeply.
“Hmm… I thought it was more because of…” And with that, Saeko rolled over, pulling Jo on top of her…
Having been so distracted, Jo was forced to shave and shower hurriedly (though honestly, the shower would’ve gone faster had he been alone in the tub). Double checking to make sure he hadn’t missed a spot while shaving, Jo exited the bathroom dressed sharply in a black business suit, a lavender shirt, and a black tie with stripes of various shades of purple. His hair was combed neatly back, his steel-toed boots perfectly polished (yes, he wears boots with his suit, deal with it!). Saeko wolf-whistled as Jo came down the stairs, but it was he who was nearly given a nosebleed. There she stood in the kitchen wearing nothing but an apron and a smile, bearing a sausage, egg and cheese sandwich on wheat toast. ”Last night, twice this morning, breakfast and a show? How did I get so lucky?” Jo said, trading the sandwich for a kiss.
“Don’t get used to it; I’m not the house-wife type.” Saeko said with a playfully snide smirk. “Now get out of here, Mr. Hand of the Sennin. You’ll be late for your meeting.” After trading “I love you’s” and one more long kiss, Jo headed out the door and boarded the next trolley to the Torre, munching on his sandwich with a dumbstruck smile.
Jo arrived at the Torre with only a couple of minutes to spare, double checking himself for crumbs before entering and approaching the receptionist. ”Narashi Jo, Chunnin; I’ve got an appointment with Sennin Do Natsu at nine?” He was quickly directed to the Main Branch Sennins Office, a location he had never been to previously. It was said that the office décor changed with each sennin. Jo had never had the opportunity to visit when Masao was in charge. He wondered if Natsu had already changed the place to something more his style, or did it still reflect Masao?
A wave of sadness washed over him as the memory of the Sennin’s death hit him. Saeko had taken it fairly hard, as had Enjeru; though the latter had chosen to lock himself in his room rather than cry openly as his sister had. Since Jo’s return, they had gotten all of Masao’s affairs in order. The house belonged to his children jointly, but Saeko had been spending more time at Jo’s place than at home. Jo had been nothing but supportive since her fathers death, knowing that she needed him to be strong for her. As a result, he’d been holding back on telling her about By-Tor’s surfacing; waiting until she was a little more settled before breaking the news to her. He didn’t want to overburden her with his problems, not now; not when she had so much of her own to deal with. He would need to tell her, and soon; but for now, he had this meeting to deal with. His first meeting as the Hand of the Merces Letifer. Without further ado, Jo raised his hand and knocked on the door.
Where the main living area of the apartment was neat and orderly, the bedroom was anything but tidy. Articles of clothing, both male and female, littered the room. Some thrown half-hazardly onto the dresser, others were simply laying on the floor where they fell. A brazier had, at some point, been flung onto one of the blades of the ceiling fan, which turned on the slowest available rotation frequency, comically twirling the undergarment. The fans gentle breeze churned and spun dust motes through the air, invisible save for when they passed through a solitary beam of sunlight that had forced its way between a pair of drawn curtains. It was a combination of this ray of light, the wafting scent of coffee, and an internal sense of time that awoke Jo from his slumber. Bleary hazel eyes fluttered open, then blinked solidly shut at the invasion of illumination. The young chunnin turned his head slightly to the left and, feeling the sun being shielded from his face, reopened his eyes to a most wonderful sight.
Laying in his arms was the embodiment of beauty, Takaki Saeko. Her head lay on his shoulder, the sunlight shining fruitlessly on tousled hair dark as night. Her eyes were still closed, her breath still deep and slow; the angel still slept. A peace lay about the fine features of her face; a softness where usually an unwavering mask of strength stood. The faultless splendor of her slumbering solace was breathtaking. Her imperfect perfection stunned Jo to silent stillness, though his left arm, trapped as it was, was tingling with numbness. Her right hand, he surmised, must feel the same, as it was currently tucked beneath his arm and pillow; but if it was, she was too deep in sleep to notice it. Her other hand rested on the center of his bare chest, the rest of her hugged close to him. Their nakedness was covered by tossed and tangled blankets and sheets, only Jo’s upper torso and Saeko’s shoulders lay bare.
For a few moments, Jo simply lay there and stared, awestruck by her beauty. A silent satisfaction washed over him as the memories of the previous night played over in his head. He wanted nothing more than to lay there with her forever. Alas, the ticking of the analog alarm clock on his nightstand reminded him that eternal happiness was out of reach. Time is the infinite jest. Jo closed his eyes, enjoying the peace while it lasted, only opening them every occasionally to check the clock. Six twenty… six twenty-four… At six twenty-nine Jo reached over with his free hand and turned off the alarm before it could release and wake his sleeping lover; but when he turned back, it was too late. Her obsidian eyes, half lidded with sleep, gazed into his; a soft smile playing on her lips. Lips that rose up to meet his as she pried her arm out from under his head and propped herself up.
”Good morning… how did you sleep?” her voice was soft and sultry, like black silk cascading across her lips.
”Well enough, what with your head crushing my arm. I was afraid it was going to have to be amputated before you woke up.” Jo jibbed playfully, flexing his fingers and shaking the feeling back into his arm.
Saeko’s eyes glared, though a tell-tale smirk made her reproach obviously playful. ”Well, I was lucky to get to sleep at all; what with you snoring like a freight-train.”
”Said the pot to the kettle! You sounded like a buzz-saw through hardwood. If I weren’t so exhausted I’d have been up sooner.”
“Oh, were you exhausted? I wonder why…?” She said, her eyes lighting up as she smiled a mischievous grin.
”Oh, I think it had something to do with this.” Jo said, kissing her deeply.
“Hmm… I thought it was more because of…” And with that, Saeko rolled over, pulling Jo on top of her…
{FTB}
Having been so distracted, Jo was forced to shave and shower hurriedly (though honestly, the shower would’ve gone faster had he been alone in the tub). Double checking to make sure he hadn’t missed a spot while shaving, Jo exited the bathroom dressed sharply in a black business suit, a lavender shirt, and a black tie with stripes of various shades of purple. His hair was combed neatly back, his steel-toed boots perfectly polished (yes, he wears boots with his suit, deal with it!). Saeko wolf-whistled as Jo came down the stairs, but it was he who was nearly given a nosebleed. There she stood in the kitchen wearing nothing but an apron and a smile, bearing a sausage, egg and cheese sandwich on wheat toast. ”Last night, twice this morning, breakfast and a show? How did I get so lucky?” Jo said, trading the sandwich for a kiss.
“Don’t get used to it; I’m not the house-wife type.” Saeko said with a playfully snide smirk. “Now get out of here, Mr. Hand of the Sennin. You’ll be late for your meeting.” After trading “I love you’s” and one more long kiss, Jo headed out the door and boarded the next trolley to the Torre, munching on his sandwich with a dumbstruck smile.
*****
Jo arrived at the Torre with only a couple of minutes to spare, double checking himself for crumbs before entering and approaching the receptionist. ”Narashi Jo, Chunnin; I’ve got an appointment with Sennin Do Natsu at nine?” He was quickly directed to the Main Branch Sennins Office, a location he had never been to previously. It was said that the office décor changed with each sennin. Jo had never had the opportunity to visit when Masao was in charge. He wondered if Natsu had already changed the place to something more his style, or did it still reflect Masao?
A wave of sadness washed over him as the memory of the Sennin’s death hit him. Saeko had taken it fairly hard, as had Enjeru; though the latter had chosen to lock himself in his room rather than cry openly as his sister had. Since Jo’s return, they had gotten all of Masao’s affairs in order. The house belonged to his children jointly, but Saeko had been spending more time at Jo’s place than at home. Jo had been nothing but supportive since her fathers death, knowing that she needed him to be strong for her. As a result, he’d been holding back on telling her about By-Tor’s surfacing; waiting until she was a little more settled before breaking the news to her. He didn’t want to overburden her with his problems, not now; not when she had so much of her own to deal with. He would need to tell her, and soon; but for now, he had this meeting to deal with. His first meeting as the Hand of the Merces Letifer. Without further ado, Jo raised his hand and knocked on the door.