La Petite Bouilloire à Thé

[Sand Council]

La Petite Bouilloire à Thé

A warmly lit tea house on the shore of the Teardrop Oasis, known for their delicate green teas with a hint of citrus as well as the well-to-do clientele that frequents this humble establishment. Inside there is often a woman playing a koto in a pretty dress. Traditional attire is often worn, many there for the ceremonies offered. So the women often wore traditional kimonos of elaborate and intricate design and their hair is painstakingly twirled and braided into place before a single, complimentary but just as colorful kanzashi holds her tresses in place. It is often an all-day affair for a woman to prepare for an evening at the tea house, the smallest flaw considered a mark of disrespect. As it was spring, momo and yamabuki being most popular, the women looked like lovely flowers in a bouquet to the romanticist in some. The men also traditionalists with their dark haori and hakama, the scene was reminiscent of a near-forgotten time. Perhaps that is why it was so popular.

Well, that and the fact that the time required to prepare for such a locale would require hours of effort for most men and more for any self-respecting woman. Thankfully Fuu did not mind the fact that she stood out like a sore thumb. She wore the muffler and robes she wore when she traveled the desert, still burdened with a layer of dust with some rips and tears, she got more than one disapproving look from the wait staff as well as the customers. She did not care, she was not here to celebrate a long-dead art. She was here because she would see him coming as well as his allies if he was foolish enough as to ignore her demands.

It was the evening, the tea house would start to fill. She already had a reservation, it was the only way one would be able to get a seat and it required substantial funds she had already procured earlier in the day card counting in a few games of hachinin-meri. They increased the price once they saw her attire in hopes that she would turn away but her funds were far from short and would soon be enormous. She doubled her original payment and pointed to the table she wanted, it was in the back of the teahouse, not far from three avenues of escape, a window she could fit through, a back door that was 37 steps away and a back staff area that had an additional exit she had identified a day earlier when she staked the establishment. She expected Aburabuta, a man of pride to arrive in inappropriate garb flanked by one his his 'best men.' He might foolishly invest in having more men nearby but there would be no place for them unless they bought out someone else's spot and would they too be easily spotted with their formal yet incorrect garments.

It would grate on him, put him off-balance.

She would arrive an hour before the destined meeting time. She did not fear being late, rather she wanted to see if there was any 'changes' in the setting beyond her presence and the altercations in demeanor she would identify. People were going to look at her, whisper, perhaps even make a rude comment. They were not inconspicuous at all and that was human nature, the watcher always tries to appear as if they were not watching. Everyone here was watching as she ordered a cup of tea. It was warm and sweet and she savored the aroma and taste while she waited, a small book on the table she took notes to the dismay of some. The girl playing the koto was off-key, this caught her attention as she watched the young woman play out of the corner of her vision. Was she new? No, it was the same young woman that played yesterday.

She was careful and she knew it, but despite her efforts she knew that he would betray her. She did not look forward to seeing how this would unfold but she needed to allow these events to occur organically.

The customers appeared to be dressed appropriately, the obimakura discretely hidden on most of the women and the obijime knotted beautifully into the artistically stylized knots they wore with pride. The time of the meeting would come and go, he would be fifteen minutes late. It should not be surprising, Hirotomi was also looking to demonstrate some power in this saituation by making her wait. When he arrived, he would be wearing a white suit that cost more than some homesteads. The only color being the purple tie he donned beneath the crisp layers of white. He wore a brimmed hat that shaded his face partially, but his thin, long smile was a facial trait she immediately recognized. He matched the height and the build. His long, dark tresses were pulled back and bound at the base of his neck. There was a good chance that this was not the real Hirotomi, it was likely he sent someone else in his stead. His pride would not have allowed such an insult.

He would stand at the door, waiting for a server to point Michi out to him. He entered alone without guard. It seemed foolish for one to do considering the threatening nature of her letter. She did not consider Aburabuta to be a fool. He would take a seat, apologizing as he lowered himself to the floor "I apologize for my tardiness, Miss Michi." His thin lips would curl back into a snarky smile that was enough to grant her a shadow of doubt but not enough to override her belief that he was indeed a fraud. "Should I request more tea?" Hirotomi asked with what would seem like a semblance of civility.

"No thank you," she replied as she placed her palm over the top of her cup. "I believe we are here to talk price, Mister Aburabuta and nothing more."

Pish-posh" he waved his hand.

Pish-posh?

Hirotomi summoned a staff person to pour them both a fresh cup of tea. Both poured from the same spout. Michi looked down at the cups warily. Perhaps there was something in the cup, she was not going to risk the possibility. She did not say as much but she would look away from the intrusive cup as she took a long sip from her cooled cup of tea. It tasted a bit salty. "996,300,000 yen for the ambling metallic creation, that was your offer and it was the high bid, but not by much." She was not here for small talk or pleasantries.

"Done," he announced as if he was paying for a new pair of shoes with some pocket change as he pulled a money-clip out that was burdened with a massive sum. "It is all there, I counted it twice. Feel free to count it yourself," Hirotomi announced with an almost patronizing voice. She would count the bills, her thumb would run over the bills. They felt real. She would hold up the bills and they passed her checks but that only made her uneasy. This was too simple, too easy. The probabilities screamed that he would try something, but what?

"I believe I have completed my end of the deal, like any good gentleman would..." there was a pause, he was looking for her to make good on her end of the deal. She was to relinquish the metal-creation. "Is it here?"

She shook her head, it was not.

That of course was troublesome for the businessman. She was likely aware that he was not going to let her leave without escort; she would not squelch on her side of the deal. She was of course going to insist on trust and he was not going to provide it to a stranger that gave him no reason trust. She knew the outcome would end in an altercation, so she slid him the key to her hotel-room. That was where the massive turtle-like creature stood in chains. He would know what they key unlocked and if he was clever, he would go there immediately before someone else discovered that her room was vacant less the prized construct.

Hirotomi would depress a button hidden in his collar and announce to an unseen recipient, "it is done sir."

She could hear faint static from her seat, it did not surprise her that a doppelganger took his place; she would have done the same.

"What do you want me to do with the desert rat?" She tensed, a part of her was prepared for a betrayal and she eyed the window.

"She would not take a drink."

As she thought, there was something wrong with the tea.

"But she was drinking some tea before I arrived, it should be taking effect any time now."

Her heart skipped a beat as she stared at him. How would he know what she would order? The server was the same server that was here the day before. They did not have the time to change out the servers, did they? She did her research, this was not a house under Aburabuta employ. She made a run for it, her forearm would cover her face as she broke through the glass pane and it would shatter all around her. She would roll over a grassy knoll, shards of glass embedded into the layers of cloth as well as superficially into her flesh. She would let out a cough as well as an ataxic staggering step, she was a bit light-headed just then. Woozy in fact. She looked behind her, the man who was posing as Hirotomi had not even left the tea house. It was then that she looked down at her watch, she could not read the numbers. They were blurry. She squinted as she tried to make sense of the time, forgetting for a moment to run. She would attempt to stagger further away, perhaps down the road. She would look back again, he was not behind her. Where was he?

She had not been in that tea house for an hour and a half, she had been there for four hours without realizing. It started before 'Aburabuta' had arrived. A skilled genjutsuist mercenary had in fact arrived before him. Skilled enough to cast a genjutsu on her that caused her to overlook his entry into the tea house. Skilled enough to let her think only a fraction of the time had passed while a fake Hirotomi arrived. Skilled enough to give the guests time to vacate on their own, thinking her only a madwoman staring off into space. Skilled enough to sprinkle a bit of dust in her cup before the actor had even arrived. It was then that time returned to normal, when 'Aburabuta' arrived. The fresh cup and her paranoia and defiance would compel her to take a drink but it was unnecessary, she was already poisoned. That was where the salty taste came from.

She only thought she ran, in reality it was only her and the two of them in an empty tea house. The staff, bribed to leave moments earlier. One of them would grab her from behind, breaking the illusion but not the poison that enfeebled her. With her arm pulled tightly behind her back with an upward motion that made her feel as if her arm was going to be broken from its socket. She would let out a pained scream through gritted teeth as she tried to buck her assailant off of her. He pushed his weight down onto her back as pressed her against the table. "Tie her up!"

"Get o--!" She would scream before her voice was muffled with a rag that filled her mouth. She could feel something tight wrap around her wrists and bind them together. She let out another scream, the was just muffled noise. She would swing her head back and feel it impact one of the men, the one that had pinned her to the table. From the sound and feel of it, she was certain that she cracked his front teeth.

"Fucking bitch!" A hand planted itself behind her head and smashed her face into the table. It would leave a substantial bruise as well as a cut on her brow that blurred her vision more than the poison already had.

"Dude, she is like ninety pounds," the fake Aburabuta laughed.

"Have not seen you do shit," the illusionist complained as he dragged the kicking woman from the table. "Get her legs or knock her out, I don't give a shit which you do."

"But this suit ain't mine and it is really expensive."

"Fucking take care of this!"

'Aburabuta' took off his suit jacket and his shirt as he allowed his illusion to drop. In reality he was a skinny ginger that only vaguely resembled Hirotomi's form, the clothes were actually a few sizes too large but they were about the same height. He would ball up his fist and bunch her twice in the stomach before the illusionist that held her from behind would scold him, "punch the bitch in the head! We don't have all day!" He was not nearly as powerful as the man behind her, Michi would kick him more than he would hit her. Breaking his nose and cracking a few ribs. The illusionist sick of waiting would slam her down again into the table, this time the evening would become dark.

[Topic Left]

S Rank -- 30 min