Category: Drama

The scent of smoke – Part 3

“Jazz! Hurry up now or I’m leaving without you!” Subaru closed his cuffs, checked his tie in the mirror.

“Not my fault that you hogged the bathroom for that long,” she grumbled and rushed past him, grabbed a pair of earrings to put them on.

“You know how my father can be. We mustn’t be late.”

“We won’t be late and even if, it’s not my fault that you need an eternity for your hair. It only took me ten minutes to get ready.” His nervousness was contagious but not unfounded.  Ichiyanagi-san was a strict man, especially when it came to his son. High expectations, fueled by Subaru’s success so far, burdened the relationship between father and son. It also affected Jazz as Subaru’s wife. In the beginning his father was less than pleased, his plans for his son didn’t include some foreigner, especially not without any political influence or money.

Ichiyanagi-san seemed to warm up to her lately, though. Jazz liked to think it was because of her positive influence on Subaru and his life in general, but it was probably something else. Saving his energy for important battles.

“How do I look?” She focused on her husband again, the pondering wouldn’t do her any good anyway.

“Why don’t you wear the green dress?” Subaru took his jacket, grabbed his keys.

“Because we don’t have the time for me to change and I like the red one.” She accepted the coat he offered her, checked her purse one last time.

“I like the green one better but you look great in this, too.” A quick peck on her cheek and they were good to go. One of these days she would conquer the heart of her father in law just like she had conquered the heart of Subaru – with a smile, lots of charm and the patience of a saint. Which she didn’t have.

But this was their last night together before Subaru had to go on a week long business trip,  Jazz wanted to get over with the official part and jump to the goodbye session she had in mind.

 

It was almost midnight when they came back. Jazz kicked her shoes off the moment the door closed behind them, sighed when her aching feet made contact with the fluffy carpet.

“That was a really nice restaurant.”

Subaru took her coat, hummed lowly.

“It would have been nicer if the waiter hadn’t ogled my wife all night.”

Jazz snorted, turned around to face him. “Is that why your mood was so sour in the end?”

“See? That’s why I wanted you to wear the green dress. The neckline is more modest.”

“Oh.” She nodded slowly. “So you don’t like the red one because it’s showing off my body too much?” Her hands followed the lines of her curves and she swayed her hips enticingly.

“You look fabulous in it and you know it. But I’d rather be the only one enjoying this view.” He couldn’t stay grumpy, not with the way Jazz moved her body. So he stepped closer, put his hands on her hips and pulled her against him.

“Let them gawk. In the end you are the one I’m going home with.” Her arms wrapped around his neck she smiled up at him, her body pressed flush against his.

“I just think it’s shameless to drool over another man’s wife while he’s sitting right there.” His hands slid towards her backside, squeezed her butt.

“And I think you are exaggerating but if it’s bothering you so much, how about I take your mind off of things for a while?” Her voice dropped to a low, sultry whisper, she stretched up, on her tiptoes, and brushed her lips over his.

“Are you feeling bad for flirting with him in front of me?” The accusation was mellowed by the smile tugging at his lips.

“I didn’t flirt. You should remember how it looks like when I’m flirting, and if I’m not mistaken you enjoyed it very much last time I did that with you.” Her lips traveled up his neck, nipped here and there.

“Usually I enjoy everything you do with me,” he admitted, tilted his head to capture her lips again.

“Mhm, same.” His tie didn’t put up much resistance when she loosened it and pulled it off him. It ended on the floor, followed by his jacket.

“When do you have to leave tomorrow?” One by one the buttons of his shirt gave way to Jazz’s nimble fingers.

“10 am. Kaiji is picking me up here.” His hands searched for the zipper of her dress, a triumphant grunt marked his success.

“Oh good. That gives me enough time to tire you out properly and for you to sleep afterwards.” Jazz stepped out of her dress, took his hand and tugged him towards their bedroom. They had to make up for a week’s worth of physical affection in advance and that was a challenge she gladly accepted.

 

The police department was always busy. Special departments were smaller than the general police department, but there was never a break, never a lull.

Miho actually liked it that way, no matter what day or nighttime she came into the office, there was always someone working. There was a picture of her, Goto and Subaru as rookies on her desk, another one of her and Jazz at a party, pulling faces for the photographer.

Her nameplate read “Sergeant Fujiwara”, despite being married for more than five years she never took Goto’s last name.

“Hey, Fujiwara! New case, briefing’s in five!”

She waved at her coworker, grabbed her notepad and the pen Goto gave her for the start of her service in the SAT two years ago and made her way over to huge table in the middle of the office.

A tall man with glasses and a very strict expression waited for the team members to assemble, his gaze zeroed in on Miho when she arrived.

“Captain Ishigami.” She greeted him formally, despite knowing him for years already. He was a stickler for rules and she would know, since he was also Goto’s captain.

“Sergeant. Take a seat, we are starting in three minutes.”

If Goto was there, too, he would have told her in advance so Miho just did as told, opened her notepad and waited for the briefing to start.

 

“So both of your teams are working together for a case? Wow, how are the odds,” Jazz wondered and took another gyoza from the plate.

“Actually not that low if you think about it. She’s in a special assault team, I’m in Public Safety, there are a lot of common operations.” Goto still waited for his ramen to cool off.

“You spend too much time with your captain.” Miho snatched a gyoza from Jazz, grinned when her friend shot her a glare. “She didn’t mean it literal. No need to actually calculate the odds for this.”

“I just mean, you never worked together since Miho started this new assignment. Is it strange now?” Only vaguely aware of what exactly they did at their jobs Jazz kept her questions superficial, there was a lot of confidentiality when it came to police work after all.

“Not strange so far. We haven’t really worked together yet, just our departments. I guess Captain Ishigami doesn’t approve of distractions at work coming from working with your spouse anyway, so we won’t exactly go on shared missions.” Finally the food had the right temperature for Goto so he grabbed his chopsticks and dug in.

“So no hanky-panky at work?”

Goto choked on his noodles, living with Miho should have prepared him for direct questions but hearing them from Jazz still made him uncomfortable.

“Never say never,” Miho piped up, angled for another gyoza but wasn’t fast enough.

“Order some for yourself next time,” Jazz advised while chewing on the last dumpling.

“How long is Ichiyanagi away this time?” Goto ignored the food related quarrel, looked at Jazz for an answer.

“Just until Friday. Three more days, no big deal.”

“And what are you doing those three days?”

“Work, mostly. Deep cleaning the apartment. Sorting through some old stuff. You know, keeping myself busy.”

Goto’s brow furrowed but Jazz just shrugged.

“Deep cleaning in a house that Ichiyanagi lives in? Does that even make sense?”

Jazz laughed at his question, but he wasn’t wrong. Subaru really was a cleaning maniac of sorts.

“Well, there might not be dust or dirt, but someone has no clue how to keep their paperwork organised. I thought about getting everything ready for the taxes. Maybe even organise his closet. Some of his clothes are not fit to be worn out of the house anymore.”

“The mighty Ichiyanagi, so he does have a weakness after all.” With Jazz distracted Miho launched an attack on her ramen toppings, swiped a fried shrimp, much to Jazz’s indignation.

“Hey! Your husband is sitting right there, why don’t you steal his food?”

“Because he has the permission to wear and use a gun. You really think I’m messing with him?”

In retaliation Jazz grabbed Miho’s sake cup and downed it.

“If they kick us out of another ramen place I won’t ever take the both of you out for dinner again,” Goto warned, didn’t even flinch when Miho stole a mushroom from his bowl.

“Then we are just gonna take each other out, what do you say?”

“You know I’d take you out whenever you feel like it,” Jazz confirmed, clinked her sake cup against Miho’s and with that they continued eating and chatting until it was time to go home.

 

“Good job today.” Jazz bowed to her team, clapped a few times. “You better go home now before you get locked in over night.” There was a big birthday party planned for the next day, but for now all the preparations were done.

“Liana! Do you have a second?”

While the rest of the staff left Liana waited for Jazz who locked up and smiled at her assistant. “Later tonight I’m meeting with a friend for a drink or two. You wanna come, too?”

They had worked together for several months already, chatted during breaks and after events, but not usually spent time with each other outside of work.

“What about work tomorrow?” Liana asked, looked back at the just finished location.

“We won’t get wasted, just have a drink or two. We will be back home and in bed way before midnight. It’s not even fancy. I’m going to take a dip in the public bath on my way back home, just change into something comfortable and hop over to this nice little bar we know. Snacks, drinks, girls’ talk.”

“Are you sure your friend will be okay with it? I don’t want to impose.”

Jazz reached into her purse, took out a small business card. “You wouldn’t. I just invited you. And I asked Miho in advance, she said she wants to meet you anyway. Probably will try to make you spill some juicy work stories.” Quickly she scribbled some instructions on the card, handed it to Liana. “Just think about it. You don’t have to, but I guess it would be fun.”

Liana turned the card in her hand, read the name of the bar and nodded slowly. “Le Renard Noir? Sounds good. See you later, then, I guess.”

They parted ways and true to her words, Jazz stopped a small public bath on her way home. Whenever Subaru was away she went to a public bath at least once. Not that he was against it, he just didn’t care much about bathing in company. Jazz enjoyed the space, their own bathroom lacked a big tub and she just loved to sink into hot water every now and then until only her nose was still showing. Especially after a long day at work it was a blessing and one of the few things she looked forward to.

Japanese bathing culture was different from what Jazz knew from home, but since there were separated baths for men and women she didn’t mind going in naked. After a long soak she stepped back out on the street, her skin still flushed, the damp hair piled up on her head, secured with a scrunchie. Her high heels were stashed in her bag, the ballerina flats on her feet so much more comfortable.

She checked her purse for her keys, rummaged through the depths of her bag.

“Hey, you dropped this.”

“Oh, thanks.” With a polite smile she looked up, from the pack of tissues someone held towards her to the face of the helpful person.

“Oh, it’s you again.” Grey eyes widened in surprise, matched Jazz’s. Mr. Ponytail grinned, motioned towards the public bath.

“Don’t tell me there’s a party going on in there, too.”

“I let you know, there’s a party wherever I am.”

His laughter was loud, bounced off the buildings around them.

“Yeah, I can see that.” He reached into his jacket, came back with a box of cigarettes. “You want one?”

“No thanks, never got the appeal of it.”

“Oh. Well…” He shrugged, put the box back again.

Jazz shifted from one foot to the other.

“Okay, it was nice meeting you again but-”

“Have you always been this short?”

She blinked up at him, her brain needed a moment to catch up. “Um, no. At work I’m usually taller, but you know, in my free time I like to shrink a bit. The water must have been too hot.” She motioned towards the bath behind her.

“Huh. Everyone needs a hobby, I guess.” He scratched his goatee, looked down at her feet.

“Like smoking?” Her question drew his attention back to her face, the teasing smile on her lips.

“Nah, that’s not a hobby. Just a bad habit I can’t kick.”

“Too bad. There’s so much better things to do with hands and lips.” She winked at him, adjusted her bag. “I’m sorry, I must really go now. Got a date later. See you soon, I hope.”

“Oh, yeah. Have fun at your – date.” He reached for his cigarettes again, this time actually took one out and put it between his lips.

Jazz lazily waved at him over her shoulder, grinned on the whole way home.

 

The bar wasn’t too crowded, but Jazz was still glad she had called and gotten them a table. Miho was already waiting, a glass in front of her.

“Hey, have you been here long already?”

“No, just long enough to order and take a sip. I got you a Gin and Tonic.”

“Great!” Jazz plopped down, relaxed in her seat. “Liana will probably come, too. You’ll like her, she has a very practical mindset.”

“From what you told me about her so far I’m pretty sure we’ll get along just fine.” They clinked glasses, Jazz strained her eyes to read the menu written on a blackboard next to the bar counter.

“Yummy, it’s gonna be katsudon today.”

“You are so chipper, did something good happen?” Miho narrowed her eyes at her friend who batted her lashes innocently.

“Dunno what you mean.” She motioned for the owner who nodded, grabbed a notepad and trudged towards them.

“Oh god, you didn’t just have phone sex with Ichiyanagi, did you?”

“Shhhh!” Frantically Jazz shook her head, smiled at the bar owner.

“Hey, Kashibawara-san, how are you doing?”

“Great!” The man tapped his pen against the notepad. “How about you?”

“I’m fine. Would be much better with a bowl of katsudon, though.” She tilted her head, put on her trademark innocent smile, watched him laugh.

“Sure thing, buttercup. And what else should it be for your grumpy friend?”

“I’m not grumpy, just not as stupidly cheerful as the Lil’ Miss Sunshine here.” Miho downed her drink, handed him the glass. “Another one of those and some chicken. Oh, and a bowl of soba.”

“Coming right up.”

Jazz waited until he was gone before she turned to Miho again. “Hubby’s coming back tomorrow night, so that should be reason enough for me to be happy.”

“It’s still creepy when you casually refer to him as ‘hubby’. I bet he just got the shivers and has no clue why.”

Jazz snorted, took a sip of her drink. “You always act as if he’s the devil but I know that you actually consider him a friend, so save your breath. Oh, there’s Liana!” Wildly waving Jazz jumped up, spilled a bit of her drink.

“Hi. Sorry for being late.”

“No, it’s fine, it’s fine. It’s not work after all. Come, have a seat.” Casually she grabbed a napkin, wiped at her shirt and the table, showed Liana a seat before she got back into her own.

“So, what’s your poison? The cocktails are good here and so is the beer. Not sure about the wine, though.”

“Can I get a margarita?”

Kishibawara came over with a tray, just in time to hear Liana’s order.

“No problem. You want something to eat, too?”

She squinted in the direction of the menu while Kishibawara served food and drinks.

“The soba looks good. Could I get a bowl of that?”

“Yep, coming right up.” He slinked away again, followed by three pairs of eyes.

“Nice little bar,” Liana said, still looking around.

“Yeah, we come here every now and then. Mostly just us girls, without the husbands.”

Liana’s listened to Jazz’s chatter, kept checking out the bar. “Because of the hot guys here?”

“What hot guys?” Miho raised her eyebrow, looked over her right shoulder, then her left. “The owner is nice, but a bit dorky.”

“The other time he had a karaoke battle with a regular. It was actually hilarious, but neither of them could sing.”

The man in question came back with Liana’s order, asked if there was anything else he could do for the ladies and left when there wasn’t.

“Here’s to us and girls’ nights out,” Jazz announced, raised her glass.

“And to booze!” Miho’s glass met Jazz’s with a light clink.

“And to food?” Liana asked, brought her glass up, too.

“Oh, you won’t believe who I ran into earlier today.” Jazz took her chopsticks, sorted through her bowl. The onions to one side, the pork cutlet to the other.

“Who?” Miho asked, fulfilling her duties as best friend/cue supplier.

“The ponytail guy. Met him in front of the public bath.”

“The guest who helped you with that drunk a while back?” Liana let her chopsticks sink, narrowed her eyes at Jazz. “Wasn’t he on that other party, too? He’s not stalking you, is he?”

Miho’s head shot up, the same suspicious expression Liana was wearing on her face.

“No one is stalking anyone, we only met like – three times now. Can’t forge a criminal case out of that yet, can ya? Nah, we just happen to live in the same city.”

The pork cutlet was delicious, Jazz munched on it and smiled.

“You say you met him in front of the bath. Was he wearing a yukata?” Miho waggled her eyebrows, snatched a piece of pork cutlet.

“Your obsession with male chests is duly noted, but no, he wore a shirt and pants. Not that I paid much attention to his outfit, I was busy checking if mine was okay.”

“You’re married to Ichiyanagi, no wonder you don’t have a thing for male chests,” Miho dryly remarked, laughed when Jazz threatened to poke her with the chopsticks.

“Don’t pay any attention to Miho, she’s just being her usual mean self.”

“Have you met her husband, Liana?” Choosing to ignore Jazz Miho turned to the new arrival in their group.

“I did. He picked her up from work a few times. A very pleasant man.”

Miho snorted. “I see, so you don’t really know him yet.”

“Hey, I married that man! Stop badmouthing him when he’s not around to defend himself.” This time Jazz reached over and took a piece of Miho’s chicken.

“Why don’t you defend him? Could be entertaining.”

Jazz shrugged. “Nah, he’s all grown up, he can fight his own battles.”

They ate and drank, chatted about everything and anything and after two hours Liana asked for her bill and called it a night.

“Thanks, I had lots of fun tonight. Not even sure when I went out the last time.”

“Not that much of a party animal?” Miho asked, looking for her wallet in her purse.

“No, it’s more like my ex got our friends after the divorce and I got the collection of vintage tea cups. Unfortunately it’s a bit like in the 60s here. People think a divorce is contagious, married couples avoid me in case my bad single vibes could ruin their happiness.”

“Wow, that’s some very old-fashioned love superstition.” Jazz handed Kashiwabara some money and smiled at him.

“Yeah, that’s lame. Well, if you don’t get annoyed by us being all married and domestic-” At this point Jazz interrupted Miho’s speech with a loud ‘Ha!’

”What?”

“You’re not domestic at all.” Unfazed by Miho’s glare Jazz grabbed her jacket and put it on.

“Hey, I can make some great pancakes!”

“Doesn’t mean you’re what we would call a perfect housewife.”

“Anyway, I’m not afraid you’ll jinx us so how about we do this more often? Go out, have some drinks and good food?”

Liana nodded, waited for the others to get ready. “Sounds good.”

“Great, but for now we better go home. We got work tomorrow,” Jazz reminded them, waved at the bar owner and followed Miho outside. They parted ways, all three of them going into different directions.

The whole evening Jazz hadn’t stopped smiling.

The scent of smoke – Part 2

Liana rushed around the venue, making some last minute changes to the decorations while Jazz talked to the bar staff. Ever since she had been assigned to Jazz as assistant her days were busy, but also rewarding. Jazz gave her a lot of freedom but also expected professionalism and if not perfect, so at least working solutions to whatever problem might pop up.

“Did you take care of the flower arrangements?” The list in her hand got shorter and shorter, a check mark after every task already done and the sight made Jazz smile. Everything was under control.

“Yes, all done. And I moved some candelabras, they were too close to the flowers.”

“Good job. Anything else I should know?” Jazz handed the list over and clipped her earpiece on, checked the channel.

“Nothing so far. What’s still left to do?”

“Take the guest list over to the entrance. Can you brief the crew on who to let in and who not?”

It was a rhetorical question, of course Liana could. She nodded, stepped aside to let some staff carrying crates of wine and champagne through.

“Okay, I’m going to check on the kitchen staff real quick. First guest should arrive in ten, we better be ready by then.”

Before an event started Jazz was the most nervous, it only got better about halfway through. Burden of being the person in charge, but she wore it like a cape, not a yoke.

Another important business party for some important company, only important people were invited to eat snacks and drink imported wine. One of these days her bosses would give her the really big events, not only the good paying ones. Jazz was good at raking in the cash from CEOs who were convinced that their parties were the highlight of the year, she combined traditional elements with influences of her western heritage to some impressive and unique venues and performances. And although she had fun planning and organising these parties she wanted more. She wanted the crown.

For now she had to make do with crown roast; its fragrance wafted around her when she opened the door to the kitchen. Japanese foods and some western specialities were lined up to create the perfect fusion of east and west, fitting to the location and decoration.

She snatched a bite, deemed it worthy to get served, asked the chefs if they needed anything and with the assurance that everything went according to plan she rushed out again, always on the go.

Liana found her giving the staff a last pep talk, not standing out in her black skirt and blouse combination in a sea of waitstaff dressed in black pants and shirts. The only difference was the missing red tie around Jazz’s collar, the earpiece and of course the clipboard.

“Be polite and smile, but if someone crosses the line, don’t hesitate to get help. We rather take care of problems early. Discreetly of course. Any more questions?” She looked around, nodded a last time. “In that case, have fun and do a good job.” A round of polite applause and Jazz spotted Liana, shot her a questioning look.

“The host has arrived and he’s asking for you.”

Her clothes hastily smoothed down Jazz straightened up, all confident event planner now without any traces of nervousness.

“I better go and greet him.”

During the planning phase she had mostly dealt with his secretary, a competent and efficiently working young man named Osanai. Mr. Aikawa himself had talked on the phone with her once or twice, but Jazz recognized him from some pictures in the media. Tall, dark, handsome and one of the youngest clients she had so far he was the CEO of a company that seemingly dealt in everything.

“Aikawa-sama? I am Jazz Mann, the party coordinator. I hope you enjoy the event.” Her perfect bow was well practiced, Subaru had made sure she knew the etiquette after once seeing her bow sloppily.

“Ms. Mann, glad to finally meet you. And don’t be that formal, this is a party after all.” He smiled, slight dimples showed on his cheeks, and offered her his hand. “Mr. Aikawa is more than enough of formality.”

“Thank you, sir. Anyway, if there is anything you need tonight, don’t hesitate to tell me.” It was a phrase she had only reluctantly taken into her usual speech; it often sparked the wrong responses but her bosses insisted on it.

“Thank you, but so far everything is looking really great. I’m sure you did a great job.” He bowed his head lightly and she smiled.

“Well, your secretary was a big help of course. We can work best with clear instructions and he has been very specific in his ideas of this event.”

Mr. Aikawa laughed, shook his head lightly. “He is pretty peculiar, but I’m glad he was of help and not making things harder for you.” Once more he scanned the room, smiled as he took in all the details. “I just want my employees to enjoy this night. They do so much for me and the company, they deserve some appreciation every now and then.”

Rare words. Planning events for new ventures and fusions, sometimes to celebrate milestones and anniversaries – that was Jazz’s bread and butter work. A party for the employees to thank them for their hard work was new.

“I’m sure they will enjoy it. And I hope you will, too. If you excuse me now, sir, I still have some things to check.”

“Yes, of course. After all you are still working, aren’t you?” His laughter was happy and Jazz wondered what working for such a laid back boss would be like. Hers were constantly breathing down her neck.

With Liana in tow she made some last adjustments, more to keep her distracted than out of necessity.

The karaoke booth was constantly in use, the waitstaff was busy serving drinks and clearing glasses away and Jazz had reached her personal Zen moment while watching people having fun without crossing lines.

“A great party, Ms. Mann.”

Her polite smile widened a fraction when she recognized Mr. Aikawa, a glass in his hand. “Everyone is praising you and your work.”

“Thank you, sir, that’s the best reward. After getting paid of course.” Now that not much could go wrong anymore she was more relaxed, took things less seriously.

“Skip the sir, please. I feel so old.”

He didn’t look that old, maybe in his early 30s. Jazz raised an eyebrow, gave him a once over.

“Please, you can’t be much older than me.”

He hid his chuckle with a sip from his drink, followed her line of sight towards the crowd on the dance floor.

“I start to regret that I didn’t play a more active part in the whole planning process.”

“Why? Are you unhappy with how the party turned out?” Now both of her eyebrows shot up, after his praise earlier this came out of the blue .

“No, definitely not. It’s just – I could have met you more often.”

It was impossible to tell what was in his glass but Jazz assumed it was some kind of alcoholic drink. Wouldn’t be the first time a client hit on her after too many drinks.

“To discuss the order of courses and the venue?” Innocent blue-ish eyes came in handy when playing dumb and Jazz used it to her advantage if she had to.

“I guess I would have feigned interest in that, too, if that meant talking to you more.” A small smile on his face he watched her eyes widen.

“Mr. Aikawa, that’s very flattering, but I guess you should have a glass of water and some fresh air.”

“Oh, I’m not drunk. Actually I never drink.” There was enough space between them to pass as appropriate yet it just got too intimate for her.

“Is that so?” A tiny step back and she felt safer already. He really was handsome and his undivided attention boosted her ego.

“Maybe we could meet up after the party,” he suggested, tilted his head slightly.

“Sorry, but we don’t do evaluations after an event.” Again she flashed him an innocent smile, followed by her wedding ring. “And my husband doesn’t like it when I meet other men for anything else but work.”

“Oh.” His smile faded, he furrowed his brow. “Sorry, I thought because you are ‘Miss’ Mann and -”

“No, it’s fine, don’t worry. That happens a lot.”

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“No, if anything you flattered me, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m married. Happily.” At least he wasn’t creepy about it, some men didn’t even respect her marriage.

“Your husband is a lucky man, if I may say so.” His smile was back, but his body language had changed. Leaned back a bit, not fully turned towards her.

“You may. Tell him if you ever see him. He tends to forget it,” she joked. It was always tricky to turn down a man, even more so a client.

“Well, I better go and talk to someone else before I embarrass myself any further.” He gave her a short nod, a last lopsided smile before he wandered off.

She was a married woman but that didn’t mean she couldn’t watch. For work she met so many interesting men and although she loved Subaru with all her heart, sometimes she wondered why she couldn’t have met these interesting men sooner? Like when she was still in college?

“Miss Mann, we have a problem with the karaoke machine.”

Her earpiece cut her musings short, with a sigh she rushed over to the karaoke box, hoping it was an issue that could be solved by simply rebooting it.

 

“Jazz?” Liana checked the storeroom for her superior, frowned when she wasn’t there. “Where did she go?”

It was no surprise Jazz didn’t answer her phone, it currently was in Liana’s hand. She had found it on the bar counter earlier, but no trace of its owner. Usually Jazz told her when she was going on a break but this time she just vanished.

Liana could handle most of the work on her own, only sometimes she needed a signature to authorize orders and decisions. Still, after working with Jazz for months now and becoming friends, at least work friends, she worried about her. At least when Jazz broke her own patterns.

“Maybe in the kitchen,” Liana mumbled, made her way over there. Sometimes Jazz swiped some food at the end of the events, she didn’t eat much before due to her nerves. Liana had no problems eating before events, but she wasn’t the one with all the responsibility.

“Jazz? Are you in here?”

In the very back of the kitchen Jazz sat on a counter, a plate with appetizers in her lap, a napkin in one hand, a spring roll in the other.

“I was looking for you. You left this on the bar.”

“Oh, thanks.” Her voice muffled by the food in her mouth Jazz smiled sheepishly, offered Liana the plate and took her phone back.

“Party’s winding down. People are still having fun, but some are leaving already.” It was past midnight, so that was normal.

“Good. I’m beat. Hungry, tired and my feet hurt.” She set the plate down, hopped off the counter on her bare feet.

“Why don’t you wear comfy shoes then?”

“Because I’m short and need the additional height of my heels.” Jazz slipped back in said heels, winced briefly but shook it off. “Did you need me for something?”

“No, just wondered where you are since you weren’t hovering around your phone like you usually do.”

Jazz made a dismissive sound, she wasn’t clutching her phone all the time. Only when she was nervous.

“Fine, since my snack time is cut short I can just as well go back to work.”

Under Liana’s laughter Jazz swaned out of the kitchen, head up high, struggling to keep a straight face but failed. Back behind the bar she was smiling again, slipped her phone into her waistband and checked on the barkeepers. She only noticed the guest staring at her when she looked up and met his gaze.

“Oh, hi!” Her smile widened when she recognized the ponytail and the scruffy goatee of the helpful guest back from her encounter with the drunk man in the closed off bar.

“Oh, hello. Didn’t think I would run into you here.”

“Well, here’s a bar and a party. My natural habitat.” She motioned for him to wait a moment, ducked under the counter and came back up with a bottle of beer. “Here, but don’t let the others see it.”

He cracked a smile, took the bottle and looked around. “You’re not getting into trouble, are you?”

“For offering you a beer? Depends. Are you legal?”

He spluttered, covered his mouth with his free hand, coughed and turned away. “Goddammit, you can’t make me laugh when I’m just drinking something!”

Jazz snickered, her professional facade crumbled; apparently she wasn’t meant to act cool and collected around him.

“What? I’m supposed to make sure not to give alcohol to minors.” Her wide eyed innocent look coupled with the batting of her lashes got another laughter out of him, but this time without almost spraying his beer all over the counter.

”You are quite entertaining, anyone ever told you that?”

“I consider myself funny,” she shrugged. “Most other people don’t. I’m fine with that.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s the same for most people.” He took another sip of beer, set the bottle down again.

The party was slowing down, about half of the guests gone already so Jazz had time to kill. And there was no harm in having some fun, was it?

“Most people don’t care that I’m not funny, though. Not as long as I’m wearing tight clothes.” She took a step back, gestured with a flourish to her black ensemble.

“Which look great on you, I gotta admit. But only looks won’t get you very far.” Still, his eyes followed the path of her hands, once up and down her body.

“Well, in that case I guess I’m lucky for my great personality and my incredible charm.”

“Don’t forget your modesty,” he pointed out only for Jazz to grin even wider.

“Exactly.”

He huffed a laughter, drained his bottle. “Definitely entertaining.”

“Thanks, we aim to please.” She took the empty bottle, shook it once midair, one eyebrow arched at him. “Another?”

“Nah, shouldn’t push my luck. But thanks, that was exactly what I just needed.” He tilted his head and Jazz bowed slightly. When she raised her head again she was still smiling.

“You’re welcome.” And for once she meant it.

The scent of smoke – Part 1

The party was in full swing, people chatting, drinking and dancing. The staff was busy refilling drinks and cleaning up the occasional spill and abandoned glasses. Thanks to the talented DJ the mood was like in a club, not like the usual company parties.

“Miss Mann, there’s a problem with the guest list. Could you come to the entrance really quick?”

Jazz tapped the button on her headset, covered her free ear. “On my way.” She smiled at the faces that turned her way while she threaded through the crowd, nodded here and there while accepting compliments for the successful party.

At the door she could already see the security staff politely talking to a man in company of a woman. He was middle aged, his suit expensive and custom-tailored, golden buttons and fine stitching at the hems. The young woman on his arm looked half his age, but dressed too maturely. Her cleavage showed that she wore no bra, not a problem with her built and age, but too daring for Jazz’s taste.

“Gentlemen, is there a problem here?”

The man frowned at her, gave her a once over.

“Obviously someone messed up with the guest list.”

The underlying accusation didn’t set well with her, after all it had been Jazz who put together the list.

“Is that so? Let me check what we can do about that.” She motioned towards the side so that the next guests could move past them and she could deal with the problem in a more private setting.

“Would you tell me your name, sir?”

His eyebrows shot up one just to drop into a frown again. “Don’t you know who I am?”

“Unfortunately not, sir, that’s why I asked.”

The girl looked around the entrance area, didn’t meet Jazz’s gaze once. Cheap and rude, exactly the kind of guests she didn’t want at this party.

“Thonsten, Richard Thonsten. From Thonston Inc.”

That was all she needed to hear.

“I’m sorry, sir, but this event is only for employees of CDG and Ultramax to celebrate the new union and get to know each other. The official launch of the new venture will take place in two weeks. Of course I will gladly send you an invitation to that party.”

“That’s bullshit! Get Lengfeld here, he will take care of it.”

“Sir, Mr. Lengfeld himself instructed me to only let employees of said companies in. If you have no company ID I can’t let you pass, I’m sorry.” And the night had started so well. No last minute emergencies, no unpleasant encounters yet. “Of course you can always call him yourself and see if he will make an exception for you, but I can’t go against a direct order.”

The girl whined, curled her lips into a pout, even emphasized by the several ounces of lip gloss.

“Let’s go somewhere else, baby. I’m bored.” She pressed herself closer against the man’s side, her bra-less breasts against his arm. He opened his mouth, scoffed and wrapped an arm around her.

“Yeah, this isn’t worth it.”

Jazz still smiled with the same polite service smile that made her face ache but worked wonders. The couple turned away and Jazz caught the wink the girl sent her way. Maybe she had underestimated her.

“Miss Mann? We’re running low on ice.”

The headset was blessing and curse at the same time, saved her time but kept her busy.

“Already on my way,” she replied, handed the guest list back to the security and rushed towards the storage areas.

 

Her heels weren’t made for nights like this. Being constantly on her feet for hours took its toll on her, she needed a good foot massage and a bath once she was back home.

“I take a short break, only call me when there’s a fire somewhere, got that?” she instructed her second in command, Liana, a mid 30s former personal assistant who had started working in the event agency after her divorce a couple of months ago.

“Sure thing.”

Jazz grabbed a bottle of water on her way towards an unused part of their location, still smiling and chatting here and there. She almost bumped into a guest, a tall man with ponytail who raised a hand apologetically.

“My bad,” she quickly pointed out. “Sorry.”

“Ah, nothing happened. I just hope you didn’t hurt yourself.”

“No, all good. If you excuse me now.” A last flashed smile and she headed farther down the room, towards a small passage into a more private bar that they had closed off for the night. Here she slipped out of her shoes, sighed in relief and refused to think about how she should get the shoes back on later. With her phone and her water she took a seat at the empty counter, idly scrolled through her social media feed before she decided to send her husband a quick text.

“Tonight’s hell, can’t wait to come back home to you.”

She wiggled her toes to get life back into them, smiled when an answer popped up on her screen.

“I’m waiting for you with tea and cookies. Love you!”

A short “Love you more” back and Jazz set her phone down to take a sip of her water. Two, maybe three more hours and she could wrap up for the night.

Loud noise from the entrance alarmed her, she sat up straighter only to see a man staggering into the dimly lit bar.

“Hey, gimme another drink.”

“Sir, you shouldn’t-” she began and rose to her feet only to get yelled at.

“I know how much I can drink! Gimme vodka!”

She flinched, the stench of alcohol wafted around the man.

“I’m sorry, I can’t give you anything.” She braced herself for another outburst. Dealing with drunk people was the part of her job she enjoyed the least.

“Listen, Missie, you better get me some vodka or I get you fired.”

He was close enough for her to see that his shirt wasn’t tucked into his pants properly and that his tie was loosened.

“I don’t think that will happen.” Like usual when she was working she wore black, a simple blouse and pants combination. Not exactly like the uniform of the serving staff, but close enough for a drunk eye to mistake her for a waitress or a bartender.

She slipped back into her heels, the additional height welcome when dealing with aggressive clients and guests.

“Ya better not test me on that.”

“And you better not bother her any longer.”

The drunk turned around to the new voice in their conversation, almost fell over but caught himself just in time. Jazz blinked, it was hard to tell who it was in the dark, but the voice wasn’t familiar. She used the distraction to call the security, whispered instructions for them to come and take the drunk man out before he got violent.

“That’s none of your business. If she just gives me another drink all’s cool.”

“Sir, I say it again, I can’t give you another drink, I’m not even-”

“I think you got that wrong, buddy. First of all, you clearly got enough already. Too much if you ask me.” The figure came closer, Jazz recognized the ponytail as belonging to the man she bumped in earlier. “And second, you shouldn’t be yelling at the nice lady.”

“Or what?” The drunk man straightened up as good as possible, squared his shoulders.

“Or,” the wannabe hero to the rescue began, met the challenge with a roll of his shoulders.

“Or I will have to ask you to leave the party, sir,” Jazz piped up. With backup on the way she couldn’t let another guest get involved in this. It would reflect badly on her company and despite being a foreigner in Japan she tried to follow the rules, blend in rather than being the boisterous person people often mistook her for at a first glance. Besides, her husband was the son of an important man, his way up to the top of Japan’s elites already predetermined. She couldn’t ruin all his hard work by misbehaving. At least not at work.

“I’m not leaving before I get a drink, goddammit!”

The drunk swiveled around as good as he could, pointed at her.

“In that case you won’t be leaving at all because I’m not giving you another drop.” Chin raised, shoulders squared. Jazz took a firm stance, the time for being servile and polite was over now.

He yelled something rude and unflattering, charged at her but Jazz ducked away, used her agility to trip him. The man flailed, stumbled over her leg and fell on his face, still yelling obscenities.

“Are you alright?” Mr. Ponytail came over, helped Jazz up from her crouch

and away from the now wailing man on the ground.

“More or less. I’m sorry you had to see that.” Back on her feet she waved towards the security, told them to take the man out and get him checked by a doctor before they kicked him out.

“I hope he learned something from this and won’t get that wasted again anytime soon,” she murmured when the two security men dragged the drunk away.

“Looks as if he’s going to have some bruises tomorrow to remind him of his antics tonight.” Mr. Ponytail stayed with Jazz, had put himself between her and the troublemaker until security had detained him.

“His own fault.” She faced him, smiled and bowed her head. “Thank you for your help.”

“Nah, I didn’t do anything. That was impressive, by the way. That leg sweep.”

“Thank you, I will tell my trainer you appreciate my technique.” The polite smile was back in place, a convenient mask for her real thoughts and emotions. “But you shouldn’t stay here. Go back to the party, sir, and have a good time. This area is off limits anyway.”

“Huh?” He looked around, the empty and dark bar obviously not part of the party. “Oh. Well, I’m not that much of a party person. And they don’t even serve beer there. Only wine and cocktails. Honestly, a party without beer?” He shrugged, drew Jazz’s attention to his broad shoulders in the well fitted jacket.

“If that’s your only problem, I can help with that.” The bar was closed but stocked nonetheless. Jazz pulled two bottles of beer out of a fridge under the counter, opened them and handed one to Mr. Ponytail.

“Cheers.”

He waited until she took a sip before he did the same, gulped down a big swig and finished it with a hearty “Ahhh”.

“Better?” The bottle hid her smirk, but her raised eyebrow was visible.

“Yes, very much. Those fancy parties are not exactly my favorites.” The bottles made a soft sound when he touched his against hers. “So thanks for this.”

“You are more the burger and beer type than canapes and cocktails?” She held his gaze, took another sip.

“I’m okay with something more sophisticated, too, but a beer after a long day of work? Sounds good to me.”

Jazz nodded, hummed lowly. If her husband wasn’t so against beer she would have it more often, back in her home country it was common to have a beer or two every now and then. Subaru was more into wine, though. It was more posh.

“Well, my day of work isn’t done yet. Don’t tell my boss.”

He chuckled, drained his bottle and took hers. “Don’t worry, I will keep it between you and I.” A last nod and he wandered off, left Jazz to put the empty bottle away.

 

In the early morning hours Jazz unlocked her apartment door, silently made her way into the bathroom to get ready for bed. There was a teapot on a warmer, some cookies on a plate for her but Subaru had already gone to bed. He had his own very busy schedule, it was normal for them to only meet up once a day and not go to bed and wake up together.

She slipped under the covers, feet hurting and legs heavy, filled with the good kind of exhaustion a successful day of work brought her.

“Hey babe, you okay?”

His sleepy voice made her smile, she turned to face him, snuggled close. One arm around his waist, her face in the crock of his neck she inhaled, enjoyed his warmth.

“Yeah. Long night. But it’s getting better already.”

His hum indicated that he was still listening, the kiss he pressed on her hair missed her forehead entirely.

“Sleep now. Talking later.”

There was nothing to add to this.

 

The office was busy as always, Miho just filed away the report about the arrest of their suspect and sighed. 5:45pm. Almost time to call it a day and get something to eat. A quick text to her husband confirmed her suspicion that she wouldn’t be eating with him, so the next possible choice was her best friend.

“Jazz? You up to dinner tonight? Don’t feel like ramen again.”

“How about some home cooked meal then? Subaru is making Italian tonight. Or at least he will try :D”

“He’s cooking? In that case, yes.”

“Hey, what does that mean? You wouldn’t come if I was the one cooking?”

“You know I love you, but after that strange dish the other day I rather play it safe.” Miho added a smiley that stuck out its tongue.

“You just agreed on bringing the wine as apology for insulting my awesome cooking skills.”

She could live with that. Miho sent a thumbs up and packed her bag, clocked out and rushed off before something new could end on her desk. Being a cop was hard enough, being in a special unit was taxing at best, eating up her whole time at worst.

“Hey, Fujiwara, sneaking out already?” A colleague caught up with her on the way to the elevator.

“Some of us get their cases closed and deserve to go home. Some of us have to stay behind and do their work,” she deadpanned, got a laugh out of her colleague.

“You better help out with our cases, then.”

“Maybe some other day. I got a dinner invitation.” Ichiyanagi could be a real pain in the ass sometimes, but he could cook. Being in a similar field and the son of some bigshot up the hierarchy Miho knew him even before he married her best friend, although she sometimes wondered just how Jazz could put up with him. He was smart and did a good job, but he was also conceited and harsh in his judgement while Jazz was kind, always looked for the good in people and situations.

After a glass of wine he was funny, though. And they often had a glass of wine when they all were together, Jazz and Subaru, Miho and Seiji. On the way to the train station Miho made a stop and picked up a bottle of the red wine they all could agree on and some of the ice cream Jazz liked so much.

 

“Get out of my kitchen already before you ruin the food!”

Jazz laughed, snatched a piece of mozzarella from the chopping board and evaded the hand of her husband who just tried to smack her bum.

“It’s my kitchen, too,” she reminded him and danced through the door, towards the hallway to buzz Miho in.

“You can try your experiments at some other time, but not when I’m making saltimbocca!”

Calling the dishes of her childhood ‘experiments’ just because they weren’t haute cuisine didn’t bother her, taste was a fickle thing after all, subjective and bound to what one grew up with.

So she only mimicked him silently, a grotesque imitation that made Miho laugh when Jazz opened the door.

“What’s he jabbering about this time?”

Jazz took the bottle and the ice cream, shrugged. “My cooking. Or better, that my mere presence in the kitchen spoils the food. Beware, soon I will make all crops wither by walking by.”

“So the same old.” Miho exchanged her shoes for slippers, took off her coat.

“Yep. You want a glass right away or do you want face him sober?”

The banter between Subaru and Miho was often far from friendly, biting comments and some low jabs, especially when neither Goto nor Jazz were around to deflect and de-escalate. Two very headstrong, confident people in one room – an explosive combination. They went way back and sometimes Jazz wondered if there had ever been more between them. The answer to it wouldn’t do her any good so she never asked. Besides, she trusted her husband, he was clever enough to see that he would never find a woman like her again if he messed this up.

And trust she needed, he often worked late, overnight and abroad, with famous people and beautiful women.

“Is Goto on a business trip?”

“No, but he’s working late.”

“No problem, I think I can take care of his share of lasagna.”

Jazz braved Subaru’s glare and wandered into the kitchen, put the ice cream into the fridge rather than the freezer. She liked it soft and not deep frozen anymore. On her way out she grabbed two wine glasses, joined Miho on the couch.

“I always said men belong into the kitchen,” Miho loudly announced, grinned when he huffed and puffed, muttered under his breath.

“Can’t take much longer now,” Jazz assured her and handed her a glass. “He always gets grumpy when he’s close to finishing.”

“I hope that only applies to cooking.” Miho grinned as Jazz poked her tongue out at her, slightly red from the wine.

“You can just go and get some pizza if you keep this attitude up.” The tempting fragrance of bacon and cheese made the threat serious.

Miho sat up straighter, batted her lashes. “No, I will be good, I promise.”

“You better,” Jazz reminded her, took another sip.

They chatted until Subaru announced dinner was ready and Jazz rushed over to help him set the table.

There was just one rule that Jazz had set on early. No police stories at the table. After an especially gruesome tale of jealousy, too much alcohol and a beheaded love rival she had established it and so far all three of them had honored Jazz’s delicate constitution when it came to bloody murder.

Still their conversations were far from boring, between their jobs was a lot to talk about. Subaru was bound by confidentiality but Jazz freely shared gossip and anecdotes, her job as event planner provided her with stories for days.

The wine helped keeping the mood light and upbeat, and Jazz told them about the drunk guest on that party earlier that week.

“He attacked you?” Subaru put his cutlery down, eyes dark and brows knitted together.

“Not really. He tried, but he was too drunk and someone trained me well for occasions like this.” Early in their relationship Subaru had offered Jazz some easy self defense lessons and she had accepted, back then it was a means to get closer with a nice side effect. She hardly ever used what he had taught her but was glad to know how to get out of tricky situations nonetheless.

“Do we have to take care of him?” Between two bites of saltimbocca Miho looked up, offered it as if she was offering to get some milk next time she was at a shop.

“No, it’s all good. My security guys took him outside, and his superior ripped him a new one next day. The guy came and apologized, I made sure he wasn’t in too much trouble and the client gave me a bonus for handling the situation like I did. Everyone is happy in the end.”

Only that Subaru didn’t look happy.

“Why haven’t you told me sooner?”

“Nothing really happened, why should I worry you?”

He pushed his plate away, rested his elbows on the table. “We have talked about this, over and over again. If your job turns out to get too dangerous-”

“Ha! You are one to talk,” Jazz interrupted him. “Your job is literally to throw yourself into harm’s way for a client!

“Ohhh, dinner and a show,” Miho rejoiced, sipped some more wine.

“We are not having this argument again.” Subaru readjusted his plate, cut his meat with more force than necessary.

“You were the one who started it,” Jazz pointed out. She had lost her appetite, got up and cleared her plate away.

“Hey, won’t you eat your saltimbocca? Give it to me then, it would be a shame to waste it.” Bereft of her entertainment Miho focused her attention on the food again.

“Here, enjoy it. I’m going to put some of the lasagne in a container, you can take it home for Goto later.” She vanished into the kitchen, left Miho and Subaru alone.

“You know she doesn’t like it when you do that.” With a quick thrust of her fork Miho impaled a cherry tomato, waved it in front of Subaru.

“That’s none of your business.” He kept eating, ignored the moving vegetable.

“She won’t quit her job just to be your pretty homemaker.”

“How the hell does Goto manage to live with you? You are bossy and nosy and your table manners are horrible.”

“He loves me because I fuck his brains out. And you better stop pestering her about working. As long as she enjoys it, just leave her be. She can look after herself just fine.”

A loud curse from the kitchen made Miho sigh. “Except for around kitchenware.”

MJS (Twilight Zone Edition) Part 1

With a quiet groan, Kaga opened his eyes. His recollection of the previous night’s mission was a little fuzzy, and he struggled to bring his memories into clarity. Another soft murmur sounded in the quiet room, and Kaga tensed when he felt movement against his body.

“Mmm, it’s a little early for that, don’t you think?” a somewhat familiar-honey-laced voice whispered, and Kaga flinched when the supple shape ground back into the curve of his body.

In confusion, he gripped her hips to prevent her from arousing him any further, but it had the opposite effect.”

In a no doubt practiced move, Miho rolled over on top of him, hands either side of Kaga’s had, and grinned down as she undulted her hips.

“I wonder what your colleagues would think, Lieutenant, if they knew you were so dirty,” she crooned, leaning down to speak against his lips.

“Who’re you calling Lieutenant?” Kaga retorted, but he couldn’t – or simply didn’t – untangle himself from her before she smothered his lips with a passionate kiss.

His hands were sliding up her bare sides before he got a grip on himself, turned his head and pushed her back.

“I’ve got things to do,” he declared as he tipped Miho sideways, but his voice rasped.

He had just enough time to see her pouty-quizzical face before he hefted himself out of bed, quick to glance around and then head into the ensuite.

With the door closed behind him, Kaga took stock, pausing a second before looking into the mirror.

Instant.

Horror.

The face that stared back was not his own, but that of Seiji Goto.

I mean, it made sense considering this wasn’t his apartment, and Miho wasn’t his bedfellow, yet there he was having his morning wood stroked by the wife of his colleague.

“What the fuck is going on?” he exhaled sharply, his heart beating rapidly, even as he splashed cold water on his face.

Unfortunately this did not dispel whatever black magic had trapped him in Goto’s body, a body he then began to examine.

“Bullshit,” he snorted caustically when he pulled out the front of his boxers to inspect his – or rather Goto’s – slowly receding erection.

Knowing he couldn’t stay cloistered in the bathroom forever, he took a quick shower before gathering his courage to emerge.

Thankfully, Miho was not in the bedroom and the bed was made, giving Kaga the chance to explore until he found the closet.

“Humiliating,” he muttered as he pulled one of Goto’s uniforms out, but he dressed himself and ventured beyond.

He we was greeted by boisterous barking, as two greyhound puppies came speeding toward him. They pulled up short, however, skidding across the floor before they reached him, and began to growl: tails trembling, teeth bared, then they began to bark.

“Ishigami! Kaga!” Miho shouted from out of sight. “Cut it out!”

Imitating the pair of little pooches, Kaga leaned a little and snapped his teeth, and the pups backed away before turning and racing away.

Kaga had known Kurosawa had named the puppies he’d given to Miho and Goto as a wedding present, but hearing his own name from Miho’s lips like that in his current situation just made it even more surreal.

Something rattling in the kitchen drew the lean dogs back down the hall, and rubbing the back of his neck, Kaga followed. There he found Miho, in a short, satin robe, her hair a messy bun, pouring a second cup of coffee which she then held out to him.

“You okay?” Miho frowned, scrutinising her husband closely.

His response was from his lips before he’d paused to think.

“This better have enough sugar in it,” he snuffed, and was alerted to what he’d done by the surprise in Miho’s expression.

“I’d hope by now, as a dutiful wife, I’d know how you take your coffee,” she retorted, a little hurt behind her eyes.

“Gah,” he spluttered, wincing after he’d taken a sip. “Moron! This isn’t coffee!”

Stunned, Miho blinked a couple of times before her expression darkened.

“Uh… sorry?” he stammered, the word feeling somehow easy on his lips, despite being almost complete foreign to his brain. “Had… weird… dreams.”

Desperately trying to figure out what the hell was going on – considering the possibility he was indeed still asleep – Kaga stiffly sat down. Under the watchful gaze of two very wary greyhounds, he sipped his coffee while Miho made them some breakfast. He knew his objection hadn’t been very Goto-like, and it was clear his colleague’s wife was not at all accustomed to being insulted, but he too was at a loss.

“Actually, you know what?” Kaga grunted, as she put a plate down in front of him. “I should…”

Then he was interrupted by the ringing of a cell phone.

It rang, and rang, and rang, until Miho snatched it from the counter and handed it to him.

“It’s Captain Kaga,” she declared, having glanced at the caller I.D.

“What?” Kaga greeted, though he REALLY needed to talk to… um… himself?

“Is Miho there?” came Kaga’s own voice, but he hadn’t spoken it.

Kaga could only assume if he was in Goto’s body, Goto was in his.

“Of course,” Kaga grunted. “Her coffee is terrible.”

As if reacting on Miho’s outraged behalf, Ishigami let out a high pitched bark.

“Let me talk to her,” Goto rushed.

“And say what? You are worried about her?” Kaga snorted. “We have bigger things to worry about, so get your ass to the Academy.”

Then he hung up.

“Hey,” Miho blustered, ignoring the weird one-sided conversation she’d just heard. “You haven’t touched your breakfast.”

“Not hungry,” Kaga grunted, leaving everything on the table and heading to the front door under canine escort.

“Since when?” Miho persisted, following him closely. “Seiji, slow down.”

“No time. Very, very busy,” Kaga pressed on, reaching the door and slipping his feet into Goto’s shoes, stooping to tie the laces.

“I think you can make time to spare me a few words,” she volleyed, as Kaga straightened and reached for the doorknob.

But Miho’s hand slammed against the door with force, startling the pair of puppies.

“Goto Seiji, I’m talking to you,” she insisted, her tone low and authoritative.

Many – most people – would back down when faced with Miho in serious mode, but this only triggered Kaga’s defiance.

He’d taken her wrist and spun her around before she could blink, and though she well and truly knew how to defend herself against a stranger’s attack, Goto pressing her cheek flush against the bevelled surface, using his body to trap her there, was restricted to intimate scenarios only.

Intimate, this was not.

Something was definitely wrong.

The greyhounds snarled but Kaga ignored them.

“I’m talking to you, wife,” he whispered behind her ear, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention. “I’m busy. I’m going to work. Don’t wait up.”

When he stepped back, Miho slid sideways and crouched to calm her puppies.

“Well shit, have a peachy day then,” she dropped caustically – confused, hurt.

Kaga exited with no further comment.

Honeymoon over.

 

Goto arrived at the Police Academy flustered, and found Ishigami in the main area of the Instructor’s Room pouring over the previous night’s reports.

“Sir!” Goto exclaimed, rushing up to his superior while – of course – wearing Kaga’s face. “Captain, we have a serious problem.”

Lifting his head, Ishigami blinked at Kaga in puzzlement.

Usually it was hostility and insult.

Usually it was biting sarcasm and venom.

But, Sir and Captain?

This was surely the Twilight Zone.

As if realising his folly, Goto straightened, blushing a little as he put some distance between them.

“Sorry, Sir, you’re right,” Goto stammered, and this simply blew Ishigami out of the water. “Maybe we could discuss this in your office?”

As Ishigami stood, Kaga arrived – of course – wearing Goto’s face.

“Ahh, four-eyes,” he sniffed. “Has your lacky filled you in on this shitstorm?”

He looked at Goto inhabiting his skin, and Goto peered right back at Kaga wearing his skin.

“Goto,” Ishigami said curtly, though he was looking at Kaga. “If this is some sort of joke…”

“No, Sir,” Goto assured, but all Ishigami saw was a long-time agitator mocking him.

“Captain?” Goto prompted, sending Kaga a somewhat pleading look.

“Well… shit,” Kaga sighed, and Ishigami swore – in Goto’s body language – he saw Kaga’s arrogance and disdain. “Captain Ishigami,” Kaga went on, and he couldn’t have looked any more like he’s just bitten into a lemon. “It seems as if Lieutenant Goto and I have… somehow… switched bodies.”

Snakes and Starships: V

There was simply no mistaking the suggestion in Miho’s tone, nor the way her gaze lingered on certain parts of his anatomy before she made purposeful eye contact.

“Just how often do you get an open invitation from a princess?” she sighed out, and Orion could almost see those words: a sinuous line of seduction dropping a noose around his neck.

“Not often,” he admitted, fingers tensing into fists. “But I’m…”

“Not interested in girls like me?” she finished for him cheekily, and gave a shrug before turning toward the other end of the cabin. “That is a terrible shame.”

“You like to put words in the mouths of others, don’t you?” he said, close behind her, and Miho grinned.

“I do,” she agreed, playfully, and when she lolled her head back, she was satisfied to find it nestled quite snuggly against his shoulder at the crook of his neck. “Are you feeling the need to reciprocate?” she purred, speaking against his throat. “Or is there something other than words you’d like to put into my mouth?”

“Among other places,” he hissed, hands falling against her hips and digging in lightly.

The taste of adrenaline was still bitter on his tongue, and though he was not oblivious to the dangers of becoming entangled with a woman like Miho, she was right. There had been many times, close calls – some far too close – he had returned to the Promise wound so tightly he thought he’d shatter. And there was little release but for his own company, which was a far cry from the intoxicating promise of a woman’s delicate flesh beneath his fingers.

“Go on then, Captain,” she whispered, grinding back against him. “Don’t be shy, take what you want – I won’t complain… unless you disappoint me.”

She had barely uttered the last taunting word when Orion pushed her forward, forcing her to brace with her hands against the cold, metal shutter.

“That’s a start,” she sighed, the heat of his fingers sliding from her belt buckle to curl over the top of her leggings and drag downwards to her ankles.

“Shame you didn’t get to wear your new outfit very long,” he said against the top of her shoulder, his hands snaking over her breasts to the zipper of her jacket.

“Damn shame,” she grinned, spinning around the moment her jacket hit the floor and crushing her lips against his.

This brought back the rush of their retreat, and with the pressure of an entire city looking for a killer squeezing them tightly, their bodies released control and inhibition. In a frenzy of clattering peripherals and the rustle and fling of fabric, both ignored the possibility of the shutters suddenly opening, and enjoyed unconstrained exploration of each other’s bodies.

Orion was unsurprised Miho was no shrinking violet, meeting the urgency of his own mounting want with equal fervour. He put aside the idea she had won her way like this in other circumstances, for it honestly didn’t matter. Instead, with chest heaving and eyes smouldering, he watched as she slid down his body and settled on her knees.

“Sit,” she commanded, wicked smile adding to the already prominent sense of danger twisted with desire in Orion’s stomach. “Or you will fall,” she added, smoothing her palms up his thighs, her thumbs grazing sensitive flesh until her hands fell completely away.

She sat before him, but Orion was under no illusion that she had the power. The slightest touch of her tongue against the tip of his shaft was excruciating, a fleeting shock of exquisite sensation that caused him to shudder and inch forward. When he reached out to cup her cheek, then comb his fingers into her hair, she seemed pleased, and rewarded him with the full, moist warmth of her mouth and the delicious force of her lips around his cock.

Dropping his head back, Orion let out a low groan, tightening his grip in Miho’s hair and drawing her back and forth against him with increasing fervour. And even trough watering eyes, Miho’s focus remained fixed on him defiantly, challenging him not to cum embarrassingly soon while doing everything she could to push him right over the edge. Her tongue swirled purposeful circles each time he passed her lips, and though she braced herself against the bench with one hand, the other encouraged his arousal with playful fingers.

“Grrr, enough!” he barked suddenly, and actually caught Miho off guard when he pushed her backwards.

Just as it seemed her head would crack against the floor, she felt it cushioned by the curl of Orion’s arm beneath, followed by his weight on top.

“Reached your limit alr…” she began cheekily, but her triumphant chuckle was muffled unexpectedly by a kiss so fierce, so deep and probing, when he allowed her to surface she was gasping for breath.

“Ha,” she hissed out. “A man who’ll kiss a girl who not moments ago had her lips around his cock?”

“No doubt they’ve been worse places,” he volleyed, burying his face in her neck and his free hand between her legs.

An intense shock burst through her, so sharp and delightful her back arched against the firm massage of his thumb on her clit, while his fingers curled within.

“Ahh, not the first time you’ve done this,” she exhaled heavily, lips quivering as he dragged his teeth over her shoulder before returning ravenously to her mouth.

His erection pressed insistently into her inner thigh, and she wanted it, wanted to feel full, but Orion was now trailing kisses down her body – over her breasts, pinching one nipple between his teeth before settling his face between her legs and lapping over the inflammation of her sensitive bud.

“Ohhh… yes…” she moaned, sifting her fingers through his hair as he worked magic into her flesh.

A strangely familiar, oddly nostalgic sense flickered within her, along with the intricate motion of Orion’s tongue, but it was fleeting – overwhelmed as she lifted to her pelvis to meet each skilled thrust and the determined suckle over her clit.

“Give me more!” she demanded hoarsely, digging her fingernails into his shoulders and trying to pull him back up.

Orion lifted his head, licking his lips, his chin, and his expression told Miho he was both drunk with carnal desire and fighting it at the same time.

“We can’t,” he panted, shaking his head, but there was a persistent glaze in his eyes that Miho knew well – and it begged him to throw caution to the wind.

“Oh, yes we can,” she growled, shoving against his slightly sweat glistening chest with enough force to push him back into a crouch. “And we’re going to.”

“Miho, wait,” he insisted when she crawled forward against him, curling one arm round his neck.

“You think covert operatives don’t take chemical precautions?” she rasped before biting down on his lower lip, drawing it into his mouth and dragging away slowly, all the while grinding her hips against his lap, coiling her legs around him. “Or is it you think I’m the danger here?”

“Oh, you’re a danger,” he grimaced, his hands gripping her waist, but his efforts to keep her from working his shaft to her impatient entrance, were at best half-hearted.

“Your doctor,” she whispered against his soft earlobe, “gave me a clean bill of health.”

Orion hadn’t thought of that, and it was true.

“Are you sure?” he managed, voice strained, brows knitted, and again Miho had cause to look amused… then extremely serious.

“Let me sink down on you, Captain,” she breathed, speaking the words from one corner of his mouth to the other. “Let me swallow you whole, squeeze you – I want you pulsing inside me, pounding until I cum so hard I forget my own name.”

That was waaaay too much for Orion, who instantly pulled her down onto him, full force penetration, a deep sense of satisfaction and the reckless abandon of his animal instincts.

There were no more words to spare, just the frantic ballet of Miho’s body undulating against Orion, the joining of their bodies a passionate, rhythmic dance set to the sound of heavy breathing, the slap of skin on skin, and the mounting inevitability of each other’s climax.

And when they had rocked the boat – and each other – most thoroughly, Orion drew Miho into his arms and held her as they both tried to catch their breaths, lightly stroking her arm, across her collarbone, her throat, with feather-light fingertips.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly, brushing moist hair from her forehead.

“Oh yes,” Miho grinned languidly, bathing in the afterglow. “Is it bad of me to hope this lockdown continues so you can regain some of your stamina?”

Orion exhaled a husky chuckle.

“Yes,” he answered, humming a little before making another addition. “And… no.”

“And for a bounty hunter you came across as such an upstanding individual,” Miho laughed, and stretched out her legs a little, legs that Orion promptly entwined with his own. “Mmm you know, there is only one other man in all the galaxy I know with that tongue technique,” she mused, tracing her fingertip around one of Orion’s nipples, the sharp edge leaving a light scratch mark among many much deeper. “And I guarantee he isn’t enjoying himself nearly as much as you are right now.”

“Tongue technique?” Orion repeated, on the verge of expressing her lack of manners talking about another man while he still held her in his arms, but he shuddered a little as Miho slithered her tongue front he nipple she’d been torturing, to his Adam’s apple.

“Don’t look so offended, Orion,” she breathed, kissing lightly along his tensed jawline. “It’s a compliment of the highest order – believe me…”

A little awkwardly given the compact nature of the cabin, Miho wriggled until she laid on top of Orion, and settled back against his chest.

“Very few can make me see stars like that,” she sighed blissfully. “I almost want to keep you.”

“I’m not a pet,” he frowned, but Miho simple placed her lips over each crease.

“No, but you could be a delectable periodic pitstop in my travels,” she pointed out, the tip of her nose touching his as she peered down into eyes she felt now were also quite familiar.

This time, however, she chose to say nothing on the subject, and kissed him again – this time so very gently, almost tenderly. It made Orion’s head spin a little at how quickly this woman changed gears, but while they continued to be in lockdown, there were worse things in the universe to do… than her.

 

Returning to the Promise after the end of the lockdown proved to be a non-event. No one had come to search the water taxi in which Miho and Orion had taken refuge, and Miho found this curious though obviously convenient. She and the captain didn’t talk about what they had done, and they sure as hell weren’t holding hands and singing love songs, but there was an oddly comfortable familiarity between them; both had enjoyed the unexpected interaction, and Miho marked Orion down as definite ‘contact’.

If only Jaxon knew how detailed her ‘little black book’ of names was, he’d be floored.

“You look well rested,” Jazz noted, seeming a little tired herself, rubbing her eyes.

“And you don’t,” Orion frowned. “Everything alright?”

“Well, that depends on your definition,” she shrugged, and opened her mouth to continue when Jenna came racing up to them, Atlas trudging behind her more slowly – probably because he was carrying several heavy looking bags.

“You’ll never guess what happened!” she exclaimed giddily, and Miho arched a brow at her enthusiasm. “Atlas and I got locked into the apartment Jaxon’s source sent us to, and there was only one bed!”

By the time Atlas had stomped to Jazz’s side and dropped his cargo, Jazz was looking at him with interest.

“Don’t gimme that look, Love,” Atlas rumbled, leaning closer to her. “Made her sleep on the floor.”

“Only one bed, huh?” Miho chuckled. “Wow, Orion and I didn’t even get that lucky.”

Orion coughed, then cleared his throat.

“So long as everyone is back in one piece,” he said in a bit of a rush, which awarded him inquisitive looks from both Jazz and Atlas.

“Don’t celebrate just yet,” Jazz edged in. “There’s someone waiting for you. Soon as he saw the Promise, he refused to leave.”

Even before Orion’s head snapped to Miho, she knew who he was referring to, and she rolled her eyes.

“Ugh, well I have questions for Commodore Fairchild myself,” she grunted, and began stomping up the ramp.

But before Miho could reach the bridge, Orion caught her wrist.

“Wait a second,” he exhaled, giving her a slight nudge against the wall.

“You want to go again right here?” she queried, but she didn’t seem really in the mood.

“No,” he shook his head. “There’s something you should know.”

“Clone?” she offered with a slightly raised eyebrow.

“What?” Orion responded, confused.

“No, you’re right,” Miho mused, tilting her head a little. “Cunnalingus instructor? Nah, that doesn’t explain your eyes. Cousin? Brother?”

Orion blinked at Miho openly, and she chortled.

“You’re being ridiculously obvious, Captain,” she laughed, giving his cheek a light pat. “All I need now is some confirmation.”

“Brother,” Orion answered, lifting his chin a little. “We’re twins.”

Miho chewed her lower lip, considering him nose to nose.

“Special arrangement indeed,” she smirked, then began again down the corridor to the bridge.

There, she found Nova and Jaxon ‘guarding’ Antares, who got to his feet and glowered at her fiercely; not to be intimidated, Miho threw down the bag carrying her weapon, and simply stood her ground.

“Are you going to bow to your princess, or say hello to your brother first?” she smile smugly, and Antares swept up to her, incredibly unamused.

“What, are you doing here, Miho?” he growled, but Orion forced his way in between them as the others arrived on the bridge.

“Atlas,” he said, though he was still looking at Antares. “I’d like to get clear of this planet.”

“Can we dump him first?” Atlas grated, handing over what he was carrying to Nova, before flopping into his seat.

“Got a little something on your cape there, Commodore,” Miho grinned around Orion’s shoulder. “Not really up to uniform code.”

“I could say the same thing for you, Princess,” he volleyed coldly. “What were you doing on Eryl, and why are you with him?”

“Why do you insist on asking questions you know I’m not going to answer?” Miho sniffed. “Furthermore, I need a shower, and I’m absolutely starving – Captain?”

“You can use my quarters,” he acquiesced. “Jenna, could you show her where…”

“Stay right where you are,” Antares commanded, and Jenna froze, looking helpless.

“This is my ship, Commodore,” Orion said, his tone tight. “And Miho is a guest, and while she is a guest, my word is the only one that matters. Go ahead, Princess, just follow Jenna.”

Without another sideways glance at Antares, Miho followed Jenna off the bridge.

“You have no idea what you’re dealing with here,” Antares dropped crisply.

“I’m starting to get an idea,” Orion answered slowly. “Nova, I think our guest is probably going to need a fresh towel.”

“I got it,” Jaxon ejected, leaping up, but both Orion and Antares barked at him.

“No.”

“Don’t you dare,” Antares hissed, pointing at Jaxon.

“Yes, Captain,” Nova acknowledged, and departed.

“Let’s go and wait in the lounge,” Orion then suggested, and the pair of brothers moved out with Jaxon, to the sound of Atlas cursing the Empire dead-weight on board.

 

Miho hummed as the water ran down her body, smiling whimsically as she smeared herself in soapy suds until she was thoroughly clean. She was still enjoying the warmth when there was a solid knock on the bathroom door, followed by the appearance Nova with a towel folded over her arm.

“Princess, the captain asked me to bring you this,” Nova said, loud enough for Miho to hear her.

Without hesitation, Miho shut off the water and stepped out of the spacious glass cubicle, dripping from head to toe.

“Mmm,” she murmured with a slight stretch. “I don’t suppose I can convince you to give me a hand? A couple perhaps?”

“Are you unable to manage on your own, Highness?” Nova enquired, deadpan. “Are princesses not taught to dress themselves?”

“Of course, I can,” Miho admitted. “But team work is always so much more… rewarding.”

“So, you are offering me a reward in exchange for my services?” Nova surmised, with eyebrows raised.

“My goodness, you make it all sound so sordid,” Miho chuckled, then reached for the towel that Nova relinquished.

“When you are ready, I will escort you to the lounge where you are awaited,” Nova declared, then exited to give Miho her privacy.

She didn’t rush, but didn’t dally too long either, and though without her tiara, she entered the lounge most regally with her escort and took stock of the room.

Everyone except Atlas was present, but even under the weight of their combined scrutiny, Miho didn’t seem the smallest bit uncomfortable.

Of course, it was Antares who spoke first, rocking to his feet, tall and straight.

“Imagine my surprise when I met with Admiral Yuul on Eryl – foremostly to determine what he was hauling that could have interested you so much,” he began, taking measured steps in Miho’s direction, “when he pops like a balloon before discussion can even commence.”

“They just don’t make Empire admirals like they used to,” Miho sighed, but there was cheek sparkling wildly in her eyes.

“Or princesses,” Jaxon muttered under his breath.

“Oh I’m the new improved model,” she announced triumphantly, defiance in the tip of her chin, which Antares swiftly snatched, thumb pressing firmly into her skin.

“New model?” he questioned, and he was looking for something, looking at her in a way he never had before.

“Antares,” Orion barked sternly. “Let her go.”

Deliberately, Antares craned his neck to look at his brother, which Miho remained still and remarkably unreactive to Antares’ physical trespass.

“What exactly is going on here?” Antares asked slowly, his gaze loitering on Orion a moment before passing an expectant eye over the rest before finally returning to Miho. “How in this or any other galaxy did you manage to get them on your side?”

“Magic,” Miho offered through a wicked grin.

A moment of silence fell, before Antares worked his jaw – cast Orion a meaningful glance – then resume his assessment of Miho’s expression.

“You didn’t,” he stated, voice low and quiet, perhaps only loud enough for she and him to hear.

“Why don’t you ask the questions you really want answers to, Commodore,” she whispered, leaning a little against his hold to breath upon his lips.

There was something there in Antares’ face, Miho relished. Though it was ever so fleeting, his conclusion Orion’s reaction was because she had slept with him, did not sit well.

“Did you murder Admiral Yuul?” Antares asked flatly, now seeming in an even fouler mood.

“Oh yes,” Miho confirmed, satisfaction in the way she swaggered to Orion’s side and sat down. “Still, let me throw you a breadcrumb for free and say, I didn’t expect him to deflate any more than you did – though, the look on your face was priceless.”

“Deflate?” Tyrian repeated.

“Yep,” Miho nodded. “No bloody nuggets as expected, just a burst of purple light and then a crumpled skin-sack.

“What the hell kind of being is that?” Jenna scowled, glancing up from the tablet she was tapping on.

“Yuul was human,” Miho responded. “Was, is, I don’t know what it was I killed, but it wasn’t the actual Admiral Yuul.”

“What are you thinking, Commodore?” Jazz prompted, noting Antares’ pensive silence.

“You didn’t know?” Antares asked Miho seriously, and she straightened in her seat.

“Yuul needed killing,” she explained clearly. “All his other crimes aside, he’s one of my father’s ass monkeys. If that wasn’t him, and it wasn’t, then where is he?”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve seen this,” Antares stated, and he had everyone’s attention.

Snakes and Starships: IV

“Anyone here surprised to hear that?” Jaxon piped up and Miho snorted.

“I suppose you lump me into the same category as the Emperor just because I’m his daughter?”

“Seems likely,” Orion responded.

“Malicious? Genocidal? Sadistic? Megalomaniacal?” she lists off.

“Accurate,” Orion nodded again.

“Well I’m not him,” Miho declared. “Whatever you’ve heard is ninety percent fiction. I’m just a monster by association.”

“And the other ten percent?” Jazz prompted.

“Accurate,” Miho grinned proudly.

“There’s nothing average about your fighting ability,” Tyrian noted, and Miho’s smile grew wider, throwing him a wink.

“I enjoy what I do,” she announced. “I’m just miffed I wasn’t around to deal Sol’s much deserved final blow.”

“So, you’ve admittedly been on a killing spree but you’re not a murderous savage like your father?” Orion posed sceptically.

“Doesn’t it depend on who I’m killing?” she volleyed. “Or have you never been responsible for the death of an Empire soldier.”

“We’re not a bunch of murderous space pirates,” Jazz frowned, but Orion seemed to be waiting for Miho to continue, and she looked all the more smug for it.

“In order for Rastaban to usurp the former emperor, he needed supporters everywhere. Now, those Empire big wigs are working on expanding my father’s territories into both Union, and independent space.”

“Aggressive Empire expansion isn’t anything new,” Tyrian noted, but Miho was clearly not finished.

“He has people placed in more colonies than the Union knows,” she explained. “And when he calls for them to take control, it will be with the backing of armadas the Union will not be prepared for.”

“Let me get this straight,” Orion levelled. “You, daughter of the emperor, are colony hopping to assassinate your father’s sleeper agents?”

“Attractive and smart,” Miho grinned. “And oddly familiar… have we met before?”

“Definitely not,” Orion replied quickly.

“And that is pretty much it,” Miho added lightly. “So, if you don’t mind, I would like to get on with my work.”

“You still haven’t explained why?” Tyrian pointed out.

“Does it matter why?” she chuckled. “At the end of the day, less assholes are a good thing for everyone.”

“That depends,” Tyrian pressed, though his manner remained calm, “on what happens after they’re gone.”

“And why you’d defy your father when in your position you could live a life wanting for nothing,” Orion added.

“There is a lot he’s done, and continues to do, that I disagree with,” she answered simply. “Because he is a blood relative means nothing, when I know he’d sell even me if that would forward his goals.”

“So, you’re petulant?” Jaxon snorted.

“Petulant – exceptionally well trained, and vehemently at odds with your enemy,” Miho clarified. “So I’d have thought you’d be happy for me to carry out my business.”

For a moment, Orion looked pensive, before he spoke again.

“And Fairchild is a part of the Emperor’s domination plan?” he asked slowly, studying her with renewed scrutiny, and she returned his gaze with equal intensity.

“The GLF is still very fractured,” she answered him, and he could tell she was being careful in her response. “There are countless pockets of Empire forces – some of them very powerful – that operate outside Rastaban’s mandates, just as they did before with my father’s predecessor. For all his faults, Commodore Fairchild fits into one such pocket, so I don’t need to kill him… yet.”

“So why does he want to get you back so badly?” Tyrian persisted. “If he’s not one for toeing the line.”

“Well, ingratiating oneself with the emperor is not without its benefits,” Miho shrugged, then shifted a little uncomfortably, twisting her wrists where they remained bound. “And speaking of benefits, either someone needs to remove these hardlight cuffs, or one or more of you needs to step up the kink game.”

Tyrian blushed.

Orion crossed his arms.

Jaxon stepped a little closer and appeared to be giving Miho’s ill-fitting clothes another examination.

“Hmm…” he began, one full of suggestion.

“No, I’m not going to sterilise the infirmary again,” Jazz broke in.

“Ugh, come on,” Miho growled, sitting up straighter. “I kill Rastaban’s allies, so unless you’re pro-totalitarianism, you’ve nothing to fear from the likes of me.”

Tyrian nodded slowly, the turn of his head a silent question to Orion, who also considered Jazz and Jaxon’s reactions.

“I want to see this for myself,” he declared finally, and with a soft click, Miho’s cuffs fell away.

“Which part?” Miho grinned suggestively, rubbing her wrists a little before sliding her feet to the floor.

“Hey, take it easy, you took a really hard blow to the head not that long ago,” Jazz warned, but Miho stood, grinning, obviously reflecting on Jazz’s choice of words.

“I wasn’t the one taking it, but let’s not focus on that,” she chuckled, seeming completely at ease despite her foreign surroundings.

“Who is your next target?” Orion asked, refusing to react when Miho drew closer to him, far closer than she needed to in order to reply.

“Admiral Darsius Yuul,” she revealed. “He was personally overseeing the transport of some particularly sensitive military grade materials and I had intended on taking him out there, but someone had to get in my way.”

“What happened to your ship?” Tyrian questioned, for obviously she hadn’t just been floating about in space waiting for the admiral to fly past.

“Waiting for me to make contact, which – by the way – I would like to do now.”

“We’ll find Yuul’s current whereabouts,” Orion announced.

“We will?” Jaxon piped up, then looked a little sheepish.

“And,” Orion continued, “when we find him, I’d like to witness your conviction, personally.”

“You’ve a taste for blood, Captain?” Miho teased, licking her lips a little.

“Words are cheap,” he noted. “Forgive me for doubting your word until I’ve see them brought to action with my own eyes.”

“That is… exceptionally inconvenient,” she sighed, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling before fixing them on Orion’s face again. “If I let you tag along, you’ll walk away?”

“And leave you to carve your path of anti-Emperor carnage,” Orion nodded.

“Lovely,” she chirped, smiling at everyone, “though I’d quickly put some distance between your and Commodore Fairchild afterwards; he’s a sore loser.”

 

Atlas was unimpressed with Orion’s plan to accompany Miho on her next assassination, but stopped short of calling the decision madness. Of course, he had no love for the Empire or the Union, had taken his fair share of lives, but being party to straight up murder didn’t sit right with him – and he thought Orion would have felt the same.

Still, when Jaxon used some of his contacts to locate Admiral Yuul, the Promise headed to the tropical resort colony of Eryl and made as inconspicuous a landing as possible.

“Gee, I wish we were here on vacation,” Jenna sighed, moving to disembark.

The remark had been meant for Atlas, but he lingered on the bridge with Jazz a moment before catching up.

“There’s more to this place than clear water and high-end hotels,” Atlas grumbled in his usual, cheerful tone.

“Right you are,” Miho affirmed, joining them with Orion behind her. “I’m not surprised Yuul is here. Eryl may consider itself an independent colony an have a reputation for being a perfect honeymoon spot…”

At this point she winked at Orion, before continuing.

“… but it’s been used as a waystation of sorts for difficult to get, exotic and dangerous materials for as long as I can remember.”

“So, he’s here to offload whatever was on the ship you missed?” Tyrian concluded, coming to stand on Miho’s other side at the bottom of the Promise’s boarding ramp.

“Not just a pretty face,” Miho smiled, and she’d gently stroked his cheek before he had even thought to recoil. “He’ll no doubt be picking up some bits and pieces for his next project as well, buuuut, sadly he’s not going to be able to complete it.”

Tyrian was a soldier, like Atlas, he too had killed in the name of duty, but the flames in her eyes as she spoke so casually of murder? That concerned him, even if Yuul was a really bad guy.

“Let’s go on with this,” Orion prompted. “Don’t hang around, Atlas; get what you need to patch the Promise up, and get back to the ship as soon as possible. If this goes south, we’re going to need to get out of here in a hurry.”

“Oh ye of little faith,” Miho smirked, her enthusiasm undampened. “I’m going to need to get some equipment first, and definitely something else to wear, then we’re good to go.”

Trading one last glance with Atlas, Orion then followed Miho away from the Promise and out of the spaceport.

“So, what is your plan?” he asked, as they walked through the exceptionally clean streets bright and warm.

“Acquire gear, find a vantage point, kill the bad guy… then celebrate,” she replied happily. “Oh, that’s cute!” she exclaimed suddenly, snatching his wrist and dragging him unceremoniously over to a boutique.

Shaking his head, Orion had little choice but to trail behind her as she headed inside and demanded the clerk find the outfit in the window in her size. Shopping wasn’t exactly what he envisioned from a highly dangerous mission to kill a high-ranking Empire official, but it was quickly becoming clear to him that this woman – the Emperor’s own daughter – operated by rules entirely her own.

“How does this look?” she enquired, emerging from the dressing room and striking a dramatic pose.

The sleek bodysuit flattered her figure in ways that made Orion shift a little where he sat, and he took a few seconds before answering.

“I think you know very well you would look good in even rags,” he admitted, and Miho’s eyes narrowed on him in an almost predatory fashion.

“Even better out of them, Captain,” she announced, then turned her attention to the waiting clerk. “I’ll take this.”

The process of payment was quick and clean – an electronic transfer keyed to Miho’s bio-signature, and they were out of the boutique in under ten minutes.

“You’re not concerned about your account being traced?” he wondered aloud, as Miho dumped her old clothes into a garbage receptacle.

“I wouldn’t be a very effective covert operative if I didn’t have means to cover up my movements,” she chuckled, “so no, I’m not worried.”

Indeed, nothing about her suggested anything sinister, and Orion found himself struggling against being swept away by her open enthusiasm for their locale.

“I really should come back here for some r and r when I’m done with this crap,” she mused, now carrying a brightly coloured bag over her shoulder.

She’d known exactly where to go to get the equipment she desired, and the ‘vendor’ had been an unassuming woman at a garage with a dizzying array of very specialised weapons.

“That’s the plan?” he probed. “Kill Rastaban’s collaborators then go on holiday?”

“I think I’ll have earned it,” she shrugged. “Conscientious homicide is quite a thankless job, you know.”

Frowning, Orion allowed some of his consternation to show.

“I’ll admit it,” he declared. “I have no idea how you, given your upbringing, became the person you are – what little I know of you that is.”

“It’s not that complicated,” she responded easily. “My upbringing is exactly why I am who I am. A well-trained killer…”

“A conscientious killer by your own admission,” he pointed out, and Miho grunted in confirmation.

“You think a girl brought up with Empire rhetorical poured into her ears could only turn into selfish, carnivorous monster who cares nothing for others?” she posed, watching him with a gentle and unwavering smile.

“That’s what my experience has largely taught me,” Orion nodded, their path drawing them up a steep hill overlooking a public square.

“You’re right in that I was educated a certain way,” she agreed. “But you cannot simply discount the will and conviction inherent in a person. Even the most heinous creatures have choices, decisions they make that are purely self-serving at the expense of others when there are other options.”

“You’re saying something intrinsic in you is the compass that directs your behaviour in opposition to your upbringing?” Orion surmised, but still didn’t sound entirely convinced by her argument.

“My father sees people as a resource, and while he has the ability and want to take for himself alone, that is precisely what he chooses to do. To him, I too am a resource,” she pointed out. “And don’t think simply because he’s half way responsible for my existence I am immune to his outlook. I could follow in his footsteps and reap the rewards of blood and brutality, but that isn’t what I want.”

Her tone had become firmer toward the end of her assertion, and it was a clear message to Orion she had grown tired of being doubted, even though she knew – logically – it was smart for him to be cautious.

Silence wrapped itself around them, until Miho had chosen her vantage point and set herself up.

“So, according to your incredibly modest crew member, Yuul has a meeting with another ranking Empire officer… there…” she murmured, and though she was sort of talking to Orion, it sounded to him more like vocalised thinking.

Orion watched her scan a building in the distance through a recon-scoped rifle of some description, the price for which could have financed more than half the advanced upgrades Atlas wanted for the Promise.

There they waited as time ticked by, Orion occasionally using a long-range scanner to check the room under Miho constant stare.

“Oh, I’m going to wipe that smug expression permanently off your face, you smug son of a bitch,” Miho hissed, and Orion refocused his scanner to find Miho target striding into view.

“And who is he there to meet wi…” Orion began, before his question was answered, and Miho cursed.

“For fuck’s sake, Antares,” she growled under her breath, but Orion heard her colloquial reference to his brother. “I swear, this guy seems to be making it his mission lately, to get in the way of mine,” she continued, and Orion watched her adjust her aim a little.

“You’re going to kill them both?” Orion scowled, and cringed at the amount of concern that had leeched into his voice.

“I should,” she replied with an irritated grunt, then clicked her tongue, then muttered again. “Conscientious homicide.”

And she pulled the trigger.

It was a remarkable shot – just one – that fired a highly compressed sonic ‘dart’ across the considerable distance between Miho and her target; it smashed cleanly through the glass of the window and found its mark perfectly.

What followed, however, was not what anyone expected – not Miho, not Orion and not Antares, who stood but a few feet from the victim. Like a deflated balloon, Yuul’s skin sagged as Miho’s invisible projectile penetrated one side of his skull, and instead of a graphic explosion of skull fragments and grey matter, Antares’ witnessed a rush of flashing purple energy escape the man’s body. His ears were assailed by the most horrific chorus of screams, as the light dissipated, and when silence returned he stared at the bizarre pile of skin, hair and clothing that used to be Yuul.

“That was unexpected,” Miho exhaled, watching through the scope as Antares crouched to more closely inspect Yuul’s remains, before beginning to search along the murder weapon’s most likely trajectory. “Let’s reflect on that later hmm?” she then posed, rocking back and folding her weapon before stuffing it into her bag. “Time to go.”

No doubt thanks to Antares, alarms began howling, and Orion quickly followed behind Miho as they headed toward a river.

“That guy really is a pain in the ass,” Miho muttered, scanning the river bank for a suitable vehicle. “Oh, there.”

Without waiting for Orion’s input, and either assuming he’d continue to follow – or perhaps not really caring at all – she waved over one of the automated water taxis and hopped on board.

“Head for the spaceport,” she instructed, though there was no pilot to speak of, and Orion only just made the leap onto the aft of the vessel before it began to move from the bank.

Her eyes sparkling, Miho settled against the cushions in the surprisingly spacious cabin and kicked her boots up onto a table.

“Isn’t it a little early to be so relaxed?” Orion questioned, shaking his head a little at her satisfied expression.

“This isn’t relaxed,” she told him promptly. “I’m… reflecting.”

“On why Admiral Yuul…” he began.

“Yeah, why a guy who was – according to my intelligence – one hundred percent human, didn’t turn into bloody nuggets, and why instead, he vented pretty lights like a plasma piñata.”

Orion blinked a few times as her description.

“Looked like Fairchild had no idea either,” she mused, gnawing on her lower lip a little, but sitting up a little straighter when sirens sounded much closer, and a robotic voice rang out of nearby loudspeakers.

“Attention citizens and guests. In accordance with city code AWV117, all public and private spaces will be subject to lockdown for an indeterminate period.”

“Just peachy,” Miho grumbled, getting to her feet.

“Please remain calm, until authorities have resolved the situation,” the voice continued, “and thank you for your cooperation.”

Miho managed one step toward the cabin door, before a metal shutter fell swiftly to bar her path, followed by others that covered the windows.

“Well, that complicates matters,” Miho admitted, shoving her bag back down.

“Somehow I’m beginning to see everything with you is complicated,” Orion responded, rubbing the back of his neck and looking around for a panel that might reveal some manual override mechanisms.

“Ha!” Miho snorted incredulously, but it didn’t sound offended. “Don’t go getting all sassy with me, Captain,” she continued, for some reason unperturbed by the fact they were trapped. “You wouldn’t be here if you’d just let me do my thing.”

“Would you have let you go?” he volleyed, rolling to the side to sit and peer at her.

“Okay, I’ll concede that point,” she grinned. “But, only because a part of me is happy you’re here.”

“And why would that be?” he queried, watching her body language change.

“Oh, come on, Orion,” she drawled, eying him up and down. “Your heart isn’t pounding? Blood… throbbing?”

Her Love In The Zombie Apocalypse

Happiness doesn’t last, does it?

In the perfect world, we grow to be strong, learn to believe in ourselves and to have the courage of our convictions, and finally meet someone with whom we can be that person – in both strength and weakness.

When you find that person, don’t let the small, the insignificant things come between you.

Embrace.

Embrace your differences and each other and don’t let go. Fight hard and with everything you’ve got.

Because you never truly know when the dream will end.

 

Panting and laboured beneath the weight of my backpack, I struggle to keep pace. Kaga and Soma are already pulling aside our barricade at the east end of the academy, while Shinonome and Ishigami stand alert for approaching threats.

At my side – always at my side – Seiji remains in step.

His face is smeared with the horror of his narrow escape, much like the rest of us.

But one of us fell, one of us didn’t really escape at all, the others just don’t know it yet.

Seiji doesn’t know it yet.

“Get the hell in here!” Kaga barks, but his curt urgency is no exaggeration now.

The threat is real, however disbelieving we were at the beginning, the truth has well and truly sunk in.

“Christ,” he huffs as Seiji and I pass him, and he and Soma begin to reassemble the barricade protecting our fortress home. “Could you possibly find a smaller pack?”

“Screw you,” I gasp, stumbling into the foyer and sliding the bag from my aching shoulders.

It hits the floor with a heavy clunk, the cans within part of the bounty we’d retrieved from several convenience stores much further from the academy than we have ever venture since the incident. Those closest to the academy have already been stripped bear, and it was the necessity to eat, and to provide for those who also shelter with us, that prompted a much more dangerous run to distant sources.

Roaring in my ears, my pulse refuses to slow, and Seiji looks me over with worry.

“Are you all right?” he asks quietly, leaning against the wall beside me, peering at me with those gunmetal eyes haunted by deep concern.

“Mm,” I nod, giving him a weary smile.

Anything to ease his troubles.

Anything to lighten this heart I love.

Anything to protect it from breaking.

But I can’t.

“That was intense,” I add, as Ishigami joins us.

“Everyone okay?” he asks, the blandness of his expression a stark contrast to the dangle of gore hanging from the left side of his glasses.

“Yeah,” Seiji confirms, and I nod also.

Liar.

But they take my word for it, this trust is what has kept us alive this long.

There are untold numbers of dead in Tokyo, some permanently, some now roaming, shambling, looking for prey – because it all happened so quickly, and people didn’t know how fast the infection spread, how virulent it was.

We still don’t know how it started. Even law enforcement was woefully unprepared, and communication came too slow, too late.

“Let’s get this stuff to storage,” Seiji prompted, shouldering his pack, before collecting mine.

“I’m not completely useless,” I argue, but I’m playful in my scorn.

Oh how many small things has Seiji done for me? When was the exact moment his selflessness won over my heart? I have no doubt, he would gladly give his life in exchange for mine – but this time, he can’t.

 

When twilight drifts, everyone goes to their posts. We check our defences, reinforce each barricade, look for weaknesses and plug them, and check night-watch rosters.

Glancing down the list I note who is meant to be at each guard position. It looks as if I’m just doing my job, but in reality I need to know who is where for a very different reason.

Shivering, I pull my jacket more closely around me, and eventually meet up with Seiji in our room.

Our room.

It was going to be a little house, with a yard big enough for a dog and a small vegetable patch. That was our shared dream.

Now, he is all that I have left of that dream, and…

“You look tired,” he tells me, gently taking my face between broad palms. “You’re cold.”

“It’s a clear night,” I point out, leaning into his touch, trying to memorise the sensation. “It’s freezing out.”

“Well, it was a long day,” he smiles, carefully sliding his fingers into my hair and running them all the way to the tips. “Early night?”

“Gladly,” I exhale, hoping he can’t tell I’m gritting my teeth behind this smile.

He doesn’t know I organised a pack of bare essentials while he was showering, and hid it from sight. He’s treating me like he always has – the centre of his world.

Mouth dry, maybe from the gathering nervousness of what I must do, or maybe… I can’t tell if the jackhammer pounding against the inside of my skull is part of my transition, or the spread of guilt and grief and emotional pain so potent it’s a wonder I can stand, let alone smile like nothing is wrong.

And everything is wrong, because the throb in my forearm, hidden by the long sleeves of my flannel pajamas is a harbinger of my imminent death, and horrifying resurrection.

And I can’t be here when that happens.

Just the same, I snuggle under the blankets, and as Seiji is reaching over to turn off the lamp, I wrap my uninjured arm around him, and press myself mercilessly against his back.

I want to feel the imprint of his body against mine, my fingers, my hands, I want to remember every taut undulation of his chest, and the steady rhythm of his breath.

“Your hands are still freezing,” he grumbles, but hugs my forearm tightly.

And I pray he doesn’t hear my breath catch and stick in my throat, or feel the desperation to withhold a sob in the tension of my muscles.

“You always warm me up,” I whisper, hardly a breath at all, and he gives my hand a squeeze.

Nothing in the world would give me greater peace, than to remain here – but if I stay, even until morning… I might truly destroy him. Instead, I listen to the sounds of him, inhale the scent of him, until he falls asleep.

And then I have to exercise the absolute, utmost of my willpower to separate – softly so as not to wake him, when all I really want is for him to wake suddenly, grab me, pull me down and wrap himself around me.

I am my own person, but I would gladly let him consume me.

Cautiously I cover him back up, but the slight motion of Seiji’s head causes his bangs to flop over his closed eyelids.

So innocent.

And yet so fierce in my defence – and this is why I have to go.

He would make excuses, drag it out, maybe even beg me to stay even while knowing my fate is a foregone conclusion.

Go. GO! You have to go. For his sake.

As quietly as I can, I retrieve my backpack. There is hardly anything in it, because let’s face it, I’m not going to be needing human supplies for much longer.

Then there is the letter.

Saying goodbye, face to face, seeing him break… I can’t. And it’s not arrogance to think he will, because his heart and mine are one and mine…

… is being torn apart.

On the pillow, still fresh with the impression of my head, I leave my final missive to him, and bite down so hard on my lower lip, it bleeds. These feet won’t move but they have to.

Go.

My insides are hollowed out, a gaping, weeping wound very nearly prompting a sob when in my retreat from out room I spy Domo-kun.

It’s so stupid that Domo-kun should symbolise our love somehow, but for some reason that gift to me left a lasting impression. And even in the chaos, he stayed with us as a constant.

“Goodbye Domo-kun,” I whispered, slipping out into the hall and closing the door on all I ever wanted.

 

BONUS

“Cold,” Goto murmured, rolling over and groping across the bed for his favourite source of warmth.

It was not so jarring an awakening, for he didn’t yet know the truth. His wife could be any number of places by far more obvious than having snuck out in the night to meet her grizzly fate.

So he clutched at the blankets and tucked them under his chin, and in doing so disturbed the piece of paper beside him.

Rubbing his eyes with the back of one hand, he plucked the missive from the pillow and unfolded it.

And dread began to form, dread that turn swiftly into a panic without description.

CLICK HERE TO LISTEN TO THE AUDIO OF THE BELOW LETTER

My dearest Seiji,

We said, till death do us part – but, I’m not sure where undeath fits into that.

I am sorry.

I made a mistake and now… the cost of it must be paid. And this is the one time you can’t save me, no matter how many times I call you name, the enemy now inside me cannot be defeated.

You will be angry that I didn’t tell you, that I didn’t… give you a chance to say goodbye, but leaving like this is the lesser of two terrible evils.

I will turn, it’s inevitable, and I don’t want your last memory of me to be as a monster.

Please remember the brush of my fingertips against your forehead.

Please remember the warmth of my body curled against yours.

Please, remember the passionate heat, and the bliss of our every union.

And let me save you this time – let me stand, even at this distance, between you and having to see me as anything other than the woman you took to be your wife.

That woman will soon be consumed, but until the very end I will fix you in my mind and heart, grip you relentlessly, because you have taught me what it means to be loved so unconditionally, so completely; I will not be afraid.

Loving you, and being loved by you, has been a privilege I’m not sure I ever really deserved, but you have been the absolute, the most precious gift I ever received.

I love you.

Your dearest wife.

 

The bed beside him was cold.

When in the night had she left him?

He knew she was gone but could not control his panic. It exploded inside him, could not be contained, and drove him from their room in his pinstriped pajamas. With abandon he threw himself down the corridor, blind almost but for a target in the distance he had no way of seeing.

Morning greeted him with a slap of winter, but Goto struggled through the haze of his desperate breaths lingering in the air, and staggered like a drunkard to the outer most manned position.

“Did you see her?!” he shouted.

“Lieutenant?” the young man queried, looking very confused.

“My wife!” Goto gasped. “Did you see her? Did she leave this way?”

But the pair stationed there could tell him nothing, nor could any of the other outer guards, and finally, her last words to him clutched in his bloodless fist, he sat, in the dirt, trembling.

Why couldn’t he see her face? Why could he only see the back of her, her retreating figure moving with labour steps through the undead who paid her no mind?

Losing her was… there were simply no words, but to know she had gone alone with such pain in her heart was a wound to him like no other.

And all he could do was sit, and stare off into the distance.

MJS Out of office drama: Jazz x Kunihiko Black and white pictures

Miho’s and Goto’s wedding was finally over and Jazz could breathe easier again. It had been a very touching ceremony, a wonderful party. It had made Jazz want to have a ceremony, too, but she hadn’t told Kuni about that yet. There was so much else that they had to take care of first.

Jazz had had the operation the day after the bachelorette party and so far there were no complications. She had a scar on her belly but it was tiny, only slightly rosy now and smooth. The first few days it had been dark red, ragged and uneven. The first time she had changed the bandage she had cried, not because of the scar itself but because of what this meant for her, for Kunihiko and her. For them.

Jazz shoved those thoughts aside and smoothed down her shirt to cover the scar. Today she had another follow up appointment at the clinic and afterwards some more work. With Miho and Goto in their honeymoon Jazz was the only senior partner at the agency left and she was dead set on keeping the business running smoothly. Kunihiko had told her to take it easy for now but she needed something to take her mind off the whole ‘I just lost an ovary’ disaster.

“Should I take you to the clinic?” His arms enveloped her from behind and Jazz snuggled against his chest with a tiny sigh.

“No, I’m fine. I can take a cab or the train. No need for you to be late for work.” She turned in his arms and hugged him tightly. Despite the brave face she was making she couldn’t hide how on edge she was every time she had to get another check up.

Kunihiko’s hand wandered over to her belly, gently rested there, his warmth seeping into her skin.

“I’d rather be there for you in a time like this. Being late isn’t a problem at all today.”

“I know. But believe me, it’s fine. It’s only a routine checkup. Last time they already told me that everything was looking really good. Don’t worry about me, I call you if anything is off.” She cupped his face and smiled. “You’re giving me so much strength, Kuni. Even if you’re not with me. That’s why I can be so at ease.”

Their kiss was soft and only lasted for a second, but it conveyed so much love, so much warmth.

“Okay, if you’re insisting. I’m off to work now. I love you.” Reluctantly he parted from her, his hand rested on her hip although he had already taken a step back.

“I love you, too. And now off with you, before Osanai calls and gives you a lecture again.” With a last kiss she practically pushed him out of the door, laughed when he peeked in again to sneak another kiss.

Once back in the office Jazz was diligently working, creating proposals and profiles, answering calls and emails. In her lunch break she sent Kunihiko a quick text, telling him the checkup had been well. Her doctor had told her they could start trying for a baby if they wanted to, but also reminded her not be impatient and not to get frustrated if it didn’t work right away. With only one ovary it was still possible to get pregnant, but not that likely. Still, the doctor advised they should simply try for now and take measures if it didn’t work after a year.

“It is important that you don’t stress yourself. That wouldn’t help at all. Relax and just let nature take its course. You are still young and healthy enough for it to just happen.”

Jazz had nodded and thanked her doctor, but couldn’t help the nagging unease. Work was meant to distract her and so far it was serving this purpose well.

They needed a solution to their latest loss of test drivers. Ever since Rose got serious with her puppy boyfriend and H was – somehow distracted, MJS was at the same point where it had been almost a year ago, when Miho and Jazz decided to get an intern. Maybe they had to change their approach and cancel the test driving all together.

The ringing of her phone dragged her from her thoughts, the florists had questions about an arrangement for a wedding.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, Kuni?” Jazz handed him the veggies to cut for their dinner and he pecked her cheek as a thank you, humming to prompt her to go on with her question.

“I was thinking… how about we find someone for the bar? You know, lately you don’t have much time to actually stand behind the counter anyway, but I like the atmosphere of the bar. I like that your friends, and now also my friends, can gather there.”

His hands stopped cutting the carrots briefly before he went back to preparing their dinner.

“Actually it’s a good idea. I have thought about that already. I’d rather spend my time with you than cleaning the bar anyway.”

Jazz grinned. “Well, we have combined that already. Although we didn’t really ended up getting much cleaning done…”

Ever since Jazz had gotten the diagnosis she had shied away from intimacy, not comfortable in her own body anymore. Sure, she had offered him relief in different ways and he hadn’t pushed her into anything she didn’t want to do, but by conjuring these memories now she signaled that she was ready to at least think into that direction again. A smile appeared on his face.

“I remember… that was a very pleasant night in the bar. But I guess you were driving at something else.”

Jazz giggled but nodded. “I was thinking, how about we ask H if she wants to manage the bar? She might need a new job soon, as things are at the agency right now.”

“You don’t want to close the agency, do you?” The concern in his face was surprising her, Jazz had assumed that he wasn’t a big fan of MJS.

“No, just changing some things. I’m not sure if we should continue with the date scenarios, after all it caused so many problems in the past and it’s difficult to find suitable girls to take care of it.” She shrugged. “I still have to talk with Miho about it, but I guess we’re going to get respectable and all.”

With a mocked shudder she turned to him. “I guess Miho just got the shivers, too, and has no clue why.”

Kunihiko laughed, pleased that Jazz was joking again. For some days she had been withdrawn and gloomy, although she had tried to hide it behind a smile that never reached her eyes. She knew that she had been worrying him but she really felt so much better now and was grateful for his support.

“But the wedding planning will stay unchanged?” he asked further, grabbing some bell peppers, and Jazz nodded.

“No need to change anything if it’s working just fine, right?”

He hummed in agreement but Jazz frowned lightly.

“Say, is something the matter? You seem a bit distracted.”

“What makes you think that?” he asked back, looking like being caught.

“You’re washing those bell peppers for the third time now.”

He immediately turned the water off and grinned sheepishly. “You are a sharp one, I should have know that I can’t fool you for long.”

“Right-o. And now, Mister, spill it.” She took the peppers and started slicing them.

“Not sure if I really want to tell you when you’re handling a sharp knife,” he joked but Jazz only glared at him. “Okay, okay. I’m telling you already. So, I got a call today. My grandmother wants to meet me tomorrow for lunch.”

Her hands stopped. His grandmother – well, that was unexpected.

“But it’s a good sign, isn’t it? Does that mean she starts to accept our marriage?” There it was again, the faked smile.

“I really hope so. At least it didn’t sound as if she wanted to disinherit and cast me out of the family anymore.” He carefully took the knife out of her hand. “You okay?”

“Sure, yeah. I mean, it’s not my grandma. Actually my family is pretty happy for us. They were surprised and confused at first, but now they are happy.”

She chuckled briefly, remembering the awkward Skype-date she had set up with her parents and grandparents to introduce Kunihiko to them. Being caught as the interpreter in the middle she had done her best to convey the reaction of her family properly but she couldn’t deny that they had all been bewildered that the Japanese man she was married to was another Japanese man than the original one all of sudden. They had just learned about Jazz being divorced after all.

“We will have to visit them soon,” Kunihiko pointed out.

“I would love that. Whenever you have a few days off.” She kissed him, snatched the knife back and returned to cutting vegetables. “But for now, get back to cooking, I’m starving.”

Jazz had decided not to worry so much about people accepting their love anymore. There were more severe things to worry about in the world, they couldn’t get the blessing of everyone after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After her second cup of coffee in the lobby of a fancy hotel Jazz grew impatient. Her client she was supposed to meet here was late without a notice and if she wouldn’t arrive in the next ten minutes, Jazz would leave her a note and go back to the office.

No call or text, no apology or explanation. Jazz had checked the mail with the time and place several times already and she was definitely in the right hotel, it was the correct day and she had already waited for half an hour. Not exactly a tolerating person when it came to tardiness in the first place her mood was close to hitting rock bottom when she looked up and saw something that made her blink several times, just to make sure it wasn’t an hallucination.

There was her husband, a pretty young woman hanging on his arm. Definitely not his grandmother. She was smiling at him but he seemed tense, glancing around uncomfortably. Jazz stomach sank and her heart started to race. This was bad. Why was Kunihiko with another woman in a hotel?

She quickly scribbled something down on a piece of paper and hurried to the front desk when other two were out of sight, asking the receptionist to hand the note to her client if she would ever show up. Jazz had to get out of there, needed fresh air and some answers.

It took all her willpower not to simply storm after them, or wait for Kunihiko in his office. There had to be a good explanation and she refused to jump to conclusions without giving him a chance to tell her about it.

That night Kuni came back home late. Very late. It was almost midnight, the dinner Jazz had thrown together absentmindedly earlier was long cold but she didn’t feel like eating anyway. She felt like drinking but she had stopped ever since she had learned about her medical condition, besides drinking alone had never been very appealing to her.

So she was sitting on the couch, trying to read but after she had stared at the same sentence for more than ten minutes now she admitted defeat and put the book away. Her heart leapt a bit when she heard the door. Kunihiko was back. He tried to sneak in as silently as possible, stared at her in bewilderment when he came into the living room to find her sitting there, no TV or music running, just staring at him.

“If that isn’t my lovely wife,” he cheerfully greeted her, but it couldn’t hide his tired expression. “You are still up.”

“I was waiting for you.” With pride she noticed how calm she sounded, not the nagging wife men seemed to hate.

“You shouldn’t have. I wanted to call and tell you I will be late today, but things were really crazy in the office.” He came over and leaned down to kiss her, frowning lightly when she turned her face away, only accepting a kiss on the cheek.

“Only in the office?” It was hard to keep the unease at bay, to not start screaming or crying just to get rid of this pressure inside of her.

“Actually, no. I told you about the lunch with my grandmother, right?” He sat down next to her and sighed, loosened his tie a bit and pulled the hairtie from his hair.

“Uh-huh…” Now was the time of truth and honestly, Jazz wasn’t sure if she really wanted to listen to what he would tell her next.

“I guess it’s safe to assume that she hasn’t accepted out marriage yet. She has set me up on a lunch date with the granddaughter of one of her friends. I know her since she was a child and it was so awkward. I’m a married man, I felt stupid sitting there with a girl that had barely finished college.” He dropped his head on the backrest and closed his eyes, missed the relieved smile on Jazz’s face.

“A childhood friend?”

“Not really. I mean, we met on some occasions, but I’m ten, maybe twelve years older than her. I don’t really remember. Anyway, she used to be a quiet child, but now she’s rather forceful. I have no idea what Grandmother has told her, but she seemed to assume that we will get married soon.” He sounded so tired and Jazz’s heart clenched when he turned to face her.

“Sorry, but I guess my family isn’t as happy about us as yours.”

She ran a hand through his hair, smoothed down the waves a bit and smiled. “No, I am sorry. It must be hard to go against your family like that. And sorry that you had to go on a date with some pretty 20something year old.”

“She isn’t even that pretty,” he waved her off but Jazz shook her head.

“No, she’s plenty pretty. It’s okay, I know that there are beautiful women out there. Doesn’t mean that I get insecure.”

A crease appeared over the bridge of his nose when he furrowed his brow.

“How do you know what she looks like?”

A dry chuckle accompanied her answer. “Well, I think you’re not the only one who got set up today. I was there, in the lobby. I saw you, arm in arm with a pretty girl.”

Kunihiko groaned. “Oh god… Jazz, I swear, there was nothing going on! She said she had sprained her ankle and begged me to steady her while walking. I figured it would get me out if there quicker if I just – you know, just let her lean on me a bit.”

“It’s okay, really. I trust you.” Relief made her giddy a bit, but there was enough of sass and sarcasm left in her to add: “Besides, you know I would probably kill you of you ever cheated on me. Or even better, I would sic Miho on you.”

His eyes widened. “I would never cheat on you. I love you, Jazz, you and no one else. And I will remind my grandmother that you and I are married after all, not just dating casually. There is no one who could take your place, not here in my home, nor in my bed and especially not in my heart.”

“I feel bad that you are having trouble with your family because of me,” she admitted, still smiling softly.

“It’s not your fault. Besides, you are my family. That’s all I need.”

That night they went to bed and only kissed good night again, but Jazz felt closer to him than in weeks.

“She did what?” H blinked in disbelief and Jazz shrugged.

“Set him up on a date. And it wasn’t only that, obviously they had planned it so that I had to catch him red-handed with that other girl.” She straightened some papers and handed them over to H.

“Wow, that’s really low.”

“You know what bothers me the most? Obviously his grandmother expected that I would – I don’t know, either quietly leave, broken hearted, or make a scene, cause a fight. She has probably thought I wouldn’t believe him if he tells me it was only a misunderstanding and that I would demand a divorce, convinced that he’s cheating on me.” She shook he head slightly. “But did she not expect us to actually talk? I mean, didn’t she think we would sit down and he would tell me about his strange day and I about mine? That weak plot she made up is so easily rumbled, all it takes is five minutes of honest conversation. She must think I’m stupid.”

And was what made Jazz angry. If his grandmother would have taken five minutes of her time to actually talk to Jazz she would have realized that Jazz was a smart woman. Yes, she had been easily fooled when it came to mattes of the heart before, but she had also learned a lesson each and every time.

“But is everything okay between you and Kuni again?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, of course. I know he loves me and he knows that I’m crazy about him. We are fine.” Jazz smiled at a visibly relieved H. “By the way, Kuni and I have been talking and – well, the bar is getting a bit too much work on top of our jobs and maintaining a happy marriage and all. And if we really end up having a child some day… long story short, could you imagine working in the bar? Part time at first, but if you like it and it works fine…” She let her sentence taper off, gauging H’s reaction.

“Me? Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I mean, when you’re not on date simulations you still have plenty of time, don’t you? And you could earn some more money.”

H beamed. “Sure! I mean, I’ve never worked in a bar but I have experience in the service industry. So yeah, I’d love to give it a try!”

With a satisfied nod Jazz leaned back in her chair. Another thing taken care of.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was strange. Never before in her life she had troubles initiating intimacy or sex, but as long as she didn’t have sex she couldn’t get pregnant on purpose. Not getting pregnant because her body wasn’t able to, was a completely different thing. So although the doctor had said it was fine, she was full of doubts. It was somehow easier to defend their marriage against dangers from the outside than to deal with her own fears and insecurities.

“I will be back in three days and then we take some time for us. Maybe spend the weekend somewhere else. How about an onsen?” Kunihiko just packed his last things into the suitcase, took the tie she handed him and put it to the rest of his clothes.

“I will miss you,” she said, a slight pout on her lips.

She had missed him for a while now, even when he was right there with her. The distance she had created between them was there on her own free will and he had accepted it, considered it a part of her recovery. And somehow she had already forgotten how it was to be close to him, physically close. Their love was strong like always, but the physical connection they shared in the beginning had been lost and that she regretted deeply.

“I will miss you more,” he replied and kissed her, softly at first but when he tried to deepen the kiss she pulled away. She had forgotten how to accept what she was craving for, too scared for the consequences if she stepped out of the safe zone she had created around herself.

“Don’t forget to pack your scarf. It’s going to be cold up there,” she reminded him and stepped back, right back into her safe zone. His smile wavered a bit but he nodded.

“Sure. Sapporo can be cold after all.”

Jazz felt bad for turning him down like that, but she couldn’t help it, torn between longing for him and hiding herself away. Grateful for the way he simply accepted her moods she embraced him again, this time without kissing.

When he closed the door behind him, leaving for a business trip, Jazz wondered why she just couldn’t let herself fall into the embrace of her husband anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She woke up in the middle of the night, the darkness in the bedroom so absolute that it made no difference if she opened her eyes or not. Lazily she turned around once, smiled when she realized she wasn’t alone in bed anymore. After two nights without him Jazz was glad that Kunihiko was back in their shared bed.

Still, it almost made her jump when she suddenly felt his hand on her cheek but she relaxed and inched closer, an awkward kiss in the dark, without being able to see each other, but they still managed to meet each other’s lips.

And just like that the distance she had so elaborately crafted vanished, took all her doubts with it, left her only with her love and desire for her husband. Kunihiko sleepily grunted when she pressed her body closer to his, wrapped his arms around her and rolled them around until he was on top of her.

Jazz got lost in their kiss, in his touch, eagerly wrapped her legs around him, felt his length hardening against her. When his hands slid under her comfortable and definitely not sexy pajama top she encouraged him by arching her back, pressing her body even closer. As soon as the top was out of the way she reveled in the feeling of his naked skin on hers, grateful for the fact that he was sleeping only in pajama pants. Which had to get off next. Still kissing him Jazz shoved her hands into his pajama pants, pushed them down over his ass, giving him a light squeeze. He chuckled briefly before his lips descended her neck, towards her chest, further down her stomach. She flinched when he kissed her scar but relaxed again when he started tugging off her pajama bottom and panties, waited for him to fully take off his pajama.

But she didn’t want him to linger down there, impatiently tugged at his hair until he came back up, kissed her again. It was strange, the darkness around them seemed to make this even more intimate, more meaningful.

A gasp escaped her lips when he pushed into her, made him still hesitantly until she grabbed his hip and pulled him closer. It had been some time since they had actual sex but suddenly she couldn’t remember why she had been so shy, so insecure. This was what she wanted after all, being close to him, as close as possible, until their hearts beat in the same rhythm again.

It wasn’t the ecstatic fireworks, but it didn’t lack passion and especially not love. Under the comfortable blanket of the darkness they found each other again, closed any distance that was between them, moved together to new highs.

Afterwards Jazz fell asleep again in his arms, snuggled close to him, and only opened her eyes again after the light of the morning drove the darkness away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They never talked about that night and Jazz half expected it to have been just a dream, but she could tell something had changed. They were back on track, the touches and kisses less careful, more casual again. And after a while they had sex just like they used to, whenever and wherever they felt like it. She didn’t even think about her condition, her body or the scar that much anymore. The lightness came back and made it easier to breathe, to laugh, to love.

The next few weeks were uneventful in a good way. Both Jazz and Kuni had a lot of work but at home they were closer than ever. While Jazz was planning their wedding ceremony Kunihiko did his best to come home before midnight every day and they spend each evening some time together, talking about their day and the plans for the near future. It was perfect.

It was perfect until Jazz got an unexpected visitor one day. She was sitting in her office, working on some proposals, when her door opened and a woman sauntered in, followed by Izumi who seemed out of breath – probably from chasing after the visitor.

Jazz needed a moment to remember when and where she had seen that face before. Oh yes, snuggled close to her husband in that hotel lobby.

“Sorry Mrs. Aikawa, she just ignored me,” Izumi apologized but Jazz waved him off, noticing the way the eyes of the other woman narrowed at how Izumi addressed her.

“It’s okay, Izumi. Please hold my calls for now.”

The other woman smiled sweetly at the receptionist before she took a seat in front of Jazz’s desk without asking.

“Coffee, please. Black.” With that she waved Izumi off who glanced at Jazz who shook her head. No coffee for that behavior. Jazz waited until Izumi closed the door behind him before she went back to work, ignoring the woman in front of her.

“Hey! I came here to talk to you!”

“One moment, please.” Without glancing up Jazz raised a finger and continued scribbling notes on a piece of paper, circled a word and put the pen down.

“What can I do for you?” She smiled politely but her heart raced. Putting up this act was also meant to give her control over this situation, but it only partly worked.

“You can listen to me!” The other woman pouted, very impressively so. She was really pretty, in her early 20s.

“Well, you are the one barging in here without an appointment, at least let me finish what I was working on first before you demand my attention.” Jazz took her glass of water and sipped, seemingly calm.

“So you really are a money grubbing bitch,” the woman said, obviously pleased with her observation.

“No, I’m someone who has to run a business and my time is precious. So get to the point or get out.” She wouldn’t back down, not in her own office.

“You know who I am?” That was straight to the point and Jazz shrugged.

“Barely. I don’t know your name or what you’re doing, just that you are loosely acquainted with my husband.” She relished in the way the other woman reacted to that word. Husband.

“My name is Yui. Aikawa.” A triumphant smile appeared on her rivals face – was she even a rival? Jazz wasn’t sure yet but she didn’t like the way Yui said her last name.

“I would say ‘pleased to meet you’ but we both know that would be a lie. So, Yui, why are you here today.” Not raising to the bait Jazz made a mental note to ask about that last name later. Someone else preferably.

“I thought I’d do both of us a favor and end this charade already. Kunihiko is mine and you should know it.” She raised her chin lightly, silently challenging Jazz.

“Funny, last time I checked I was married to him. So, care to tell me how exactly he’s yours?”

The smile on Yui’s face only widened. “I’m the reason he’s ‘working late’. He will leave you for me soon and then I will be his wife.”

Jazz’s first instinct was to yell. To tell Yui to shut the fuck up and get her ass out of Jazz’s office, but that wouldn’t answer any question. So she sucked a harsh breath and let it out in a chuckle again.

“Dream on, kiddo. As long as your name’s not Aikawa-Mihachi fusion you’re definitely not the reason he’s at work for that long each day. Just because you got the support of his grandmother doesn’t mean you have the man himself, you know?” She leaned back in her chair and kept smiling, but it was strained, the corners of her mouth twitching lightly.

“That’s what he wants you to think. We thought it would be better to have everything hashed out before presenting you with a fait accompli. We are planning our wedding, a real ceremony with our families, not some secret stunt like you pulled it. It should have occurred to you already back then when he didn’t want anyone to know that he might not be serious about you.” There was pity in Yui’s voice and that was something Jazz just couldn’t take.

She clenched her fists, trying to suppress her anger. Her patience was already thin on good days but this now was really putting it to a test.

“Listen, Missie, I have no idea what you’re thinking, but I don’t believe you, okay? And honestly, I get a bit tired of this farce, so would you-“

“I’m pregnant. With Kunihiko’s baby.” Yui reached into her purse and handed Jazz an envelope. “Open it.”

With trembling fingers Jazz pulled an ultrasound image out of the envelope. It was mostly black and white but there was a small human being recognizable. A wave of nausea washed over her.

“For how long?”

“Six weeks already. We are seeing each other for longer of course.”

Six weeks. Jazz quickly counted back in her head. The day she had seen both of them in the hotel? Or at least around that time.

“Get out.” She didn’t look at Yui, simply spat the words out, forced them through the anger that welled up again.

“I just thought I’d give you a fair warning. Maybe you are honorable enough to simply let him go instead of making it hard for him and his new family.” Yui got up and smirked. “Keep the picture. As souvenir. It will be all that you will be having left of him.”

“You say you’re sleeping with MY husband but I am the one lacking honor here?” Jazz grumbled after Yui was gone, struggling to keep her breathing even, willing her emotions aside. This wasn’t the time for a tantrum. It was the time to act.

Quickly she grabbed her phone and called the only one who could help her now.

“Takao? Sorry to disturb you, but I need some advice. Legal advice. Say, what can you tell me about divorces?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There had been a note with Yui’s phone number in the envelope, probably for when Jazz decided to cave in. Now she nervously called that number, still thinking about how to deal with all this. Takao had enlightened her in some points of divorce law and a quick internet research had answered some of her other questions so she was steeled for this encounter, not taken by surprise like the last time.

She knew exactly what she had to do and even if Jazz dreaded confrontations like that – with inevitable tears and screaming – she wouldn’t back down now. A clear cut, that’s what they needed now.

She pumped herself up mentally before she dialed the number.

“Yes?” Yui sounded very pleased so that Jazz gritted her teeth briefly, praying for countenance.

“I think we should talk.”

“Hm, yes, I think so, too. Are you still in your office?” There was a barely hidden triumph in Yui’s voice that riled Jazz up even further.

“No. And I don’t want you to come here again. I’d prefer somewhere else. Maybe a café or something.”

“A public place? For your safety or mine?” It was easy to see through Jazz’s suggestion but she didn’t care.

“How about that lobby? You know, the hotel where everything started?” Yui suggested, not without malice.

“Sure. In about an hour?” Jazz had to take back the reins or she wouldn’t survive that talk.

“I will be there.” With that Yui hung up, leaving Jazz with an unsettling feeling in her guts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Of course Jazz was fashionably five minutes late when she walked into that lobby without hurry. Spotting Yui was easy, the younger woman was beaming with smug self-satisfaction, it was like a neon sign.

After a last deep breath Jazz walked right over, waved the waiter away who appeared immediately.

“No thanks, I won’t stay long.” She dropped her purse on the table and took her coat off.

“So, did you decide what to do?” Yui took a sip from her coffee cup and leaned back in her seat.

“I did. I had to make some calls but now I know what I have to do. The only thing. The right thing.”

Jazz reached into her purse and took out a stack of papers.

“I called Osanai – he said you have visited Kuni in the office a few times…”

“I did. Sorry, I don’t like the whole sneaking around behind the back of the wife thing, but Kunihiko was – not ready yet. To tell you.”

Nodding her head slowly Jazz forced herself to look at Yui. “And now he is?”

The younger woman had the decency to hesitate, avoiding eye contact. “Well, given the circumstances I figured I couldn’t wait any longer.”

“True. Given the circumstances… but you know what really bugs me? That he didn’t have the balls to tell me himself. That he had to send you, you of all people…” Even Jazz thought that her sigh was a bit exaggerated, but she couldn’t stop now.

“You know how he is, far too gentle and kind to do it on his own.” Yui’s eyes flitted over to the papers. “What’s that?”

“Divorce papers. I thought I better come prepared.” Takao had delivered quickly and Jazz was grateful for that.

“So you decided to actually let him go?”

This was it, the moment of truth.

“No. Actually those are my divorce papers from my first marriage. I just brought them so you could see a tiny detail. See those signatures down there? Where both spouses have to sign to legally end the marriage? That’s the point – we both would have to agree on that. And honestly? Neither I nor Kuni will do that.”

She exhaled deeply, now that she had said her piece she felt much better.

“But Kunihiko wants it! He’s going to have a family with me soon! With me, not with you!” Yui was already half out of her chair when Jazz raised a hand and motioned for her to sit down again.

“I won’t accept this until I hear it from Kuni directly. But of course we can ask him – and tell him that he’s going to be a father soon. Or have you told him that already?” With a smile Jazz waved towards the entrance where Kunihiko just arrived.

“I took the liberty to call him. After all this is about him, too.”

Yui paled when Kunihiko reached their table, frowning in confusion at the unexpected sight of those two women together.

“Jazz? What is going on here?”

She greeted him with a kiss before she quickly explained. “Yui here told me she was having an affair with you and that she’s pregnant now so you want to break up with me to be with her.” Jazz shot a sweet smile into Yui’s direction. “Did I sum that up okay?”

Kuni’s frown deepened. “Wait, what? That’s – Jazz, that’s not true! I never – I mean, you know I wouldn’t cheat on you!” He stared at Yui who tried to make herself smaller. “Why are you saying something like that?”

“Yes, Yui, why? I mean, slandering his name, calling him a cheater – that’s really low. Do you have an idea how much that could affect his business? Spreading lies and rumors like that?”

With a satisfied grin Jazz watched Yui squirm. She had always been a fan of honesty and right now she knew she had been right. Why should she rush off and do something stupid without at least listening to what Kunihiko had to say to these allegations? In what world did that work?

“Is that why you kept coming to my office?” By now Kunihiko seemed less confused, more angry. Between Jazz and Kuni Yui could barely get a word in edgewise.

“And what about that bullshit about you being pregnant from me? We never even kissed, let alone had sex! And then you run to my wife, trying to manipulate her? What kind of snake are you?” Now Kuni was in full swing and Jazz had to place a hand on his arm to remind him to stay calm. Other guests were already staring, not that Jazz minded. A public place also meant public humiliation, something Yui apparently hadn’t considered. At least not for herself.

“I just – I tried to – I thought…”

“No! You didn’t think at all, that’s the problem! That faked, set up date was one thing, but this? A full-fledged scheme to make us break up? That’s – god, that’s so incredibly stupid and low!”

“Kuni,” Jazz whispered, “take a deep breath. I know you’re angry-“

“Damn right, I am!” Jazz had never seen him that furious, not even during their worst fights, but she kept talking.

“– but I guess she gets it now.” With her gaze on Yui again Jazz’s tone got sharper. “And I guess she understands that meddling like a toddler in kindergarten won’t bring her closer to her goal. I don’t know how much of this little scheme actually comes from you or if that was someone else’s idea, but you better remember now: We won’t fall for that shit. Because we actually talk to each other. We know each other. And I trust him – unconditionally.”

As if to prove her point Kunihiko grabbed Jazz’s hand and squeezed it lightly. They had their fair share of jumping to conclusions and making mistakes, but in the end they were both willing to make it work, to fight for what they had. Jazz wouldn’t throw that away just because some girl came along with that kind of story.

“Oh, and I don’t know where you got that ultrasound image but you can have it back.”

Kunihiko blinked. “You even got an ultrasound image? Where the hell-?!”

“Internet.” Yui’s voice was only a whisper but Jazz had no sympathy with her. Not after Yui had pulled that stunt. Going along with that date Kunihiko’s grandmother had set up was one thing, but this? Yui had crossed a line that Jazz would never dare to even get close to. A girl needed at least a bit of class and pride after all.

“Next time – pay attention while researching. And now excuse me, my husband and I are leaving. I suggest you never show your face around us anymore. Never.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jazz felt sick. Physically sick. Kunihiko ranted on and on, only interrupted by apologies and affirmations of his love for her.

“It’s okay, love, I’m just – can you take me home? All this was a bit much…”

“Yes, of course. I still can’t believe it… do you think my grandmother is behind all that? Or did Yui come up with that nonsense on her own?” Kunihiko flagged down a cab and helped her into it.

“I have no idea. Maybe you should talk to your grandmother again. God knows I’m not keen on that conversation.” She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder.

“I will. Sorry, I never thought something like this could happen. And Yui just showed up out of the blue in your office?”

She nodded with a sigh. “Not even three hours ago. I had to find out some things on my own before I could tell you. Sorry, I should have called you first thing after she left. I just –“ Another sigh and Jazz squirmed in her seat. “I had to ask Takao if there’s a way for anyone to MAKE us get a divorce. He said that was only possible if one of us was declared incompetent so the marriage could get declared invalid after all.”

She grabbed his hand and kissed the palm. “Nothing could make me give you up. Not after all we had to go through to get here.”

“But she even came with an ultrasound image… I mean, every other woman would have gotten suspicious at that point. But you still trusted me?”

She swallowed. Obviously it was another moment of truth. Jazz had planned it differently but now as good as any other time.

“I trust you. You said you would be honest with me and I believe you. Besides… that picture she showed me. She said she was six weeks pregnant but that embryo in the picture was at least 12 weeks, maybe even later. And I figured if she lied to me about that, the rest might be a lie, too.”

She could feel him tensing up, his attention now focused on her.

“How do you know that? About the picture?”

She pressed his hand that she was still holding against her belly, tears pricking in her eyes.

“I know how a fetus with six weeks should look like – because I have an ultrasound image of one…”

He stared at her, speechless, mouth agape.

“Holy – are you – really? You are pregnant?” His eyes were shining and he laughed happily when she nodded, biting her bottom lip to keep her own grin in check.

“You are pregnant! We’re having a baby? I can’t – that’s the best news I ever got!” He cheered so loudly that the driver turned around, congratulated them when he realized what the fuss was about.

“Since when do you know? Why haven’t you told me already?” Kunihiko wasn’t angry, just eager to know everything there was to know.

“I only found out two days ago myself. Actually I haven’t expected it to happen at all so I didn’t realize that all my symptoms lately were – well, symptoms.” Jazz laughed with him, unable to keep her emotions from bubbling over. “The doctor confirmed my suspicion yesterday. I haven’t told anyone yet because – actually I can’t really believe it myself.”

She reached into her purse to show him the blurry black and white ultrasound picture. “That’s our baby.”

Almost reverently he took the picture, eyes shining wet with unshed tears. “Wow…” he whispered. “It’s perfect.”

There was a lot to do now, preparations had to be made and decisions. But in that cab on their way home, nothing else mattered than their little, growing family.

MJS Out of office drama: Jazz x Kunihiko One line, two lines

Jazz stared at the small test in her hand. She had been doing that for quite some time already, unable to bring herself to actually pee on that test stripe, afraid of the truth it would show her. What is she really was pregnant? There were a lot of symptoms hinting at it. She was constantly tired, gained weight, her period hadn’t shown for quite some time. But she was also taking the pill. Maybe she needed another one? She would have to see a doctor, that was for sure, but she’d rather know in advance than having the doctor tell her that she was pregnant.

With a sigh she read the instructions again. Did she have to pee in a cup and take the test like that? Or did she have to pee directly on it? And how should she do that without peeing on her hand? Who invented tests like that?! She knew she was just stalling and she also knew that she was a damned coward, so she took a deep breath, hovered over the toilet and just – let it flow. There. Done.

What followed were the longest 60 seconds of her life. One line meant she wasn’t pregnant, two that she was. And she had no idea what she was actually hoping for. A baby would change her life forever, there was no way back if she was pregnant. But she was sure that she had found the right man to start a family, Kunihiko would be a great father. They were married and she had always wanted children. Eventually. But right now? Well, she was over 30 already, there wasn’t much more time. She didn’t want to be an old mom, she wanted to crawl all over the playground with her kids, wanted to be active and running around with them.

She stared at the test in her hand again. How long could 60 seconds be? Her heart was pounding furiously, the nervous energy making her almost jump up. Instead she took another deep breath and put the test down at the edge of the sink and fixed her clothes. With all those conflicted emotions she didn’t know what to do, what to think. Anxiously she waited for her phone to chime and tell her that 60 seconds had passed.

She grabbed the test. The result was not what she had hoped for – or was it? She couldn’t even tell, she felt lightheaded and unsteady, like crying and laughing at the same time. She definitely needed a doctor’s appointment.

When Kunihiko came home Jazz was already calm again, smiled for her husband and kissed him deeply.

“I missed you,” she sighed at his surprise.

“I missed you, too. And I really like being greeted like this.” He smiled warmly at her, the love in his eyes bringing her to the brink of tears. Again.

Jazz pulled back and turned towards the kitchen. “Are you hungry? I cooked. I wanted to eat some of the food I know from back home, so I hope you feel adventurous.”

He chuckled and followed her into the kitchen were a pot was still simmering on the stove.

“Since I know you I’m much more adventurous anyway,” he said and curiously peeked into the pot. “What is it?”

“Soljanka. A soup, sweet and sour. Mostly a leftover food, you just throw in what’s in the fridge, some pickles, some tomatoes, et voilà – Soljanka. I hope you like it.” She handed him a bowl and a piece of bread before she took some for herself. They were eating in the kitchen, casually and in comfortable silence.

“It’s good,” he said after the first spoonful and Jazz smiled. It was a comfort food for her and she really needed this today. But it was something special that she could share her own comfort with the man she loved, especially since she couldn’t share her worries with him right now. Not before she had seen the doctor.

Jazz was stubborn. Stubborn and persistent. That was why she got an appointment three days later instead of having to wait for weeks. But it was so hard to hide it from Kunihiko. She had promised not to keep secrets from him, had demanded complete honesty and offered the same in return, and now she didn’t even mention this to him.

And Kunihiko acted strange. Maybe he knew that she was hiding something or he simply noticed that she was a bit off lately. He was pretty perceptive when it came to her, she had noticed this already. He seemed to be more at home the last couple of days. Sometimes they only met for breakfast or dinner, every now and then in the bar, but he was at home around 8 every night for some days in the row.

Jazz shifted in her chair in the waiting room and smiled at the thought of her husband. He would be a good father… patient and kind and full of love for his kid. Kids. Who knows? She put the magazine down that she had barely glanced at, too nervous and anxious to read at all. How could one single line on a test make such a difference? How could that test make such a difference? She still wondered what she would have done, thought, felt if it had been another result. Would she have been happy? Shocked? Disappointed? Would she have felt as numb as she did now? Confused and afraid of the future? So many thoughts, so many emotions were swirling around in her head and heart and for now she was glad that she didn’t have to decide anything right away, didn’t have to plan before she got certainty.

“Miss Mann?”

Jazz looked up and gave the doctor’s assistant a tight smile. “Yes.”

“Would please come with me?”

She closed the door. Leaned against it and exhaled. She felt as if she was suffocating, as if her collar was too tight, her chest constricted. Women must have felt like that when corsets where still high fashion. What should she do now?

She let her bag drop to the floor and kicked off her shoes, padded barefoot into the kitchen. A glass of wine… no. No wine for her anymore. For a while.

“Hey love, you’re here already?”

Jazz flinched at the sound of his voice but greeted him with a smile.

“Yeah, one of my clients cancelled for today. I just thought about making us dinner.”

Kunihiko hugged her and looked at her face, frowning slightly.

“What’s wrong? You seem – tired.”

She laughed briefly, not actually amused at all.

“I feel as if I’m constantly tired lately.” She sighed and leaned against him, trying to draw some energy from the contact. It helped at least to calm her down.

“Maybe we need a break. A weekend trip somewhere. No work, no stress. How does that sound?” He gently stroked her back and she inhaled his scent, the familiar, comforting scent she’d grown to love.

“Sounds like heaven,” she admitted. “But I just don’t have the time.”

He brought some space between them, looked at her, searching for something.

“You need a break. Some rest. There has been so much going on lately and all you ever do is working more. And more. That can’t be good for – you. Us. I love you, I just want you to take care of yourself.”

She could tell how serious he was so she didn’t argue any further.

“Okay. A trip, one weekend. But not the next weekend or the one after that. I’m booked solid for the next two weeks.” She smiled apologetically and placed a hand on his cheek. “Thank you. For taking care of me.”

There was so much she wanted to tell him and at the same time she felt so extremely guilty, she just couldn’t.

“Miho’s bachelorette party, huh?” He chuckled slightly and Jazz nodded.

“That, too. But also work. I’m not always partying,” she said with an exaggerated pout.

“I know, I know. Although I love to see you cheerful and relaxed, so I’m fine when you are celebrating whatever you like.” He peered into her face, searching her eyes. “Is there something you’d like to celebrate?”

“Mhm, as soon as Miho and Goto had their wedding I really want to celebrate ours. And our engagement, no matter how short that was.” She smiled genuinely now, for the first time since – well, since taking that test. Maybe even before that.

“Nothing else?” His hand caressed her cheek and she leaned into the touch. This moment felt so fragil, so precious, she didn’t want it to end. Funny how they went from mind blowing sex to being each other’s home. Not that the sex was any less spectacular now, but there was just so much more than that. And still she wasn’t completely honest with him.

“Nothing else. For now.”

He nodded and smiled slightly before he kissed her softly.

“How about we order some food and just cuddle a bit on the couch for now? I miss just being with you.”

Jazz looked at him, amazed how wonderful this man was.

“That’s a great idea, love. I miss you, too. Hey, how about sushi?” She twisted a bit in his embrace to open the drawer with the delivery leaflets.

“Sushi? Uhm… no, I don’t feel like sushi. How about… Italian?”

Jazz stared at him. “You don’t feel like sushi? Sushi handrolls are your absolute favorite food, why don’t you feel like it?”

“I had sushi yesterday.”

“Oh, okay. Italian sounds good, too. Carpaccio, proscutto… yeah, I could go with that.” It’s been some time since she had Italian food.

“Carpaccio – that’s the raw beef slices, right? Uh, how about French? Or Indian?” He almost looked a bit panicked and Jazz got suspicious now.

“Kuni, what is going on? Why can’t we just order already?”

“How about I order us something and surprise you with it?” he tried to distract her. “Any cravings?” He made a face as if he had said something incredibly stupid and now Jazz really was confused.

“No. Well, maybe something spicy. Lately my food is tasting bland, at least I have that impression.” She shrugged and stepped out of his arms.

“Do you want some coffee? Or wine?”

“No, don’t bother. I can take care of that. You go and sit down on the couch.” He grabbed a leaflet of an Indian place and browsed the menu.

“Okay, but I would like some coffee.” It wasn’t that late yet and she could really need something to perk her up.

“Wouldn’t you prefer some tea?”

Jazz shot him a glare. What was wrong with him that he was so picky about what she ate and drank?

“I bring you some coffee, okay,” he relented with a sigh.

Five minutes later Jazz sat on the couch, a cup of coffee in her hand, her feet resting in Kuni’s lap while he absentmindedly rubbed them.

“That feels like heaven,” she sighed and took a sip of her coffee. Kuni really made the best coffee. He was so sweet and thoughtful. But…

“Did you forget the sugar?” She peered into her cup, the bitterness of the coffee a bit too much.

“Oh, I just thought – well, sugar’s not really good for you, is it?”

Jazz pulled her feet back and sat up. “I swear, if you start telling me to watch my weight I WILL demand a divorce.”

“What? No! I love you, I love your body, I don’t care if you gain weight. I can’t wait for you to gain even more! The more the better!” he frantically explained.

Jazz put her cup down. “Kunihiko, you are acting strange. Care to tell my why?”

He frowned, gnawed at his bottom lip. Sighed.

“Okay. Okay, here’s the thing. I – I think I found something very – personal from you…” he began, obviously choosing his words carefully.

“Personal? And now you don’t know how to act naturally around me anymore?” She was amused by the thought he might have rummaged through her underwear drawer or something. Until the thought crossed her mind that he could have found a client report or two.

“I, ugh, it’s just that I don’t understand why you hide something like that,” he admitted, wiping the thought of client reports from her mind. If he seemed – what? Happy? – it couldn’t be that.

“A woman has to keep some secrets,” she said with a shrug.

“Sure, and you should have some small secrets, I don’t mind. But that?”

What did he find? Oh. OH!

“So it’s the – uhm the size of the ‘secret’ that bothers you?” She was blushing, actually blushing, but felt like laughing at least. Typical male.

“Yes. I mean, that’s not only about you after all. It affects me, too. Shouldn’t we – shouldn’t you at least tell me?” Oh. He looked hurt and Jazz immediately felt guilty. Again.

“Kuni, I love you, you know I do. I married you. I want to spend my whole life with you. But I’m also a grown woman, I have the right of some privacy. And privacy involves having sex toys. That doesn’t mean that you can’t satisfy me or that I don’t love our sex. It just means that I’m having some toys in case I need them.”

For a moment it was silent between them.

“What?” He shook his head slightly, as if to shake off his confusion.

“What do you mean, ‘what’? Isn’t this what it’s all about? You found my vibrator?” She had a bad feeling all of sudden.

“No. No, I’m not talking about a – a sex toy. I’m talking about the pregnancy test.” His frown deepened. “And I really think you should talk with me about that.”

Jazz drew a sharp breath. Exhaled again. “Okay. Okay, you are right, that is – well, personal enough. I didn’t mean for you to find it. But it doesn’t matter anyway, does it?” The sadness in her face was getting to him and he hugged her.

“Hey, it’s nothing bad. I mean, sure, we haven’t planned it and I thought you were taking the pill, but I’m happy. Genuinely, incredibly happy. I just thought – I don’t know, I thought you would tell me with a sweet gesture and I was really on edge the last few days. I didn’t know that you were worried about it.” He wiped the first tears away that welled up in her eyes. “Did you think I wouldn’t be happy? That I wouldn’t want a baby with you?”

She shook her head, so tired, so sad. So empty.

“I don’t know what you think you found, but I’m not pregnant. The test was negative.” Her voice was blank.

Kunihiko tensed for a second. “No… two lines, right? Two lines mean positive.”

“Kuni, there was only one line. I’m definitely NOT pregnant.”

“Oh…”

Neither of them said anything for a short while.

“You know, it’s possible that after some time, an hour or so, the second line appears but it’s still a negative test. It’s just – I don’t know, eventually every test has two lines. Important is the result after the time written on the box. And after 60 seconds there was just one line. I’m sorry…” She gave him a brave smile. “I didn’t know that you found it. I didn’t want you to get your hopes up just in case…” She shrugged.

“So, you never were pregnant? Or did you…?” He couldn’t even finish the thought. One second he was convinced they would become a family and the next one everything was just – gone.

“I never was pregnant. I would have told you the second the test was positive…” Jazz sighed, the disappointment in his face breaking her heart. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, no it’s – it’s fine. I jumped to conclusions… well, it was nice thinking you and I would, would become a real family, but – that doesn’t mean we can keep trying, right?” He cupped her face, confused when she started crying again. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Kuni – I… I was…” She sobbed, cried, clung to him. Reality was finally catching up with her and ripped down every little lie she had built up as defense so far, it made her dizzy.

“Jazz? Baby, talk to me. What is it?” He had never seen her like this, not even when Mino had disappeared. Not even when they had the worst of fights. Never.

“I’ve been – I have seen the doctor today. I – I… something isn’t right… they will… they will have to – to remove one of my – my ovaries…” She could hardly breathe, speak, think. All she could was feeling a loss of something she had never had and still taken for granted. She had always thought she would have a family one day. A baby. Maybe two. A husband, a house, but first and foremost children. And now she wasn’t even sure if that was possible. If she could have children.

“I’m so… I’m so sorry…” she muttered over and over. Now that she knew that he was thrilled by the thought of being a father the pain was even sharper, deeper. It wasn’t only about her, it was about them. About him. What if he left her? What if he would want someone who could give him that? What if?

“Shhh… it’s okay, love, it’s okay… as long as you are here I don’t care…” He rocked her in his arms like a crying child, waited until the tension subsided, the tremors running through her had calmed down.

When she could finally breathe again, still sobbing a bit, she wiped her face, not caring for the running makeup, and sat back a bit.

“I will have surgery the day after Miho’s party. I don’t want anyone to know, we had enough drama lately.”

He nodded, understanding what she meant. Especially Miho had been through a lot but the others had suffered, too. That was why everyone was looking forward to the bachelor/bachelorette party, just to let off some steam, take their minds off things.

“You’re not going to tell Miho, then?”

She shrugged. “No, not now at least. Maybe afterwards. You know that she’s not keen on babies anyway, I’m not sure if this is something I want to share with her until it’s done.”

Kunihiko pondered her words silently before he changed the topic slightly.

“Okay, I think I need more information about all that. If that’s okay with you,” he added and looked at her. Crying had helped clearing her mind and although the pain was still there, sitting prominently in the forefront of her mind and heart, she nodded.

“What exactly do you have and what will they do? What does that mean for you in the future?”

Jazz sighed. “I’m not a medic, I can only explain it in my own words. Obviously one of my ovaries, the left one, is twisted in a way that makes it necessary to remove it. That would explain some of the very heavy cramps I had in the last years. It’s called ovarian torsion and they will make a laparoscopy to remove it. It’s good that we found out about it now. There’s the risk of something called an ovarian infarct and that would be really painful and dangerous.” Her shoulders slumped a bit but she went on. “Once it’s removed the other ovary should be enough to keep the hormonal balance, but getting pregnant might be a problem.”

“A problem or impossible?” he asked, holding her hands, his thumbs rubbing over the back of her hands reassuringly.

“It’s not impossible, just – not that likely anymore. We might have to see a specialist.”

The doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of their food. Suddenly Jazz realized why Kuni had been so picky about their food earlier and a fresh round of tears welled up in her eyes. She loved him so much, wanted him to have everything that would make him happy. Children included.

Kuni came back with bags and boxes of foods but simply put them down on the table, ignoring them for now. Their conversation was more important after all.

“Okay, one last question, maybe the most important one. Do you want to have a baby?”

She nodded, her lips trembling. The 60 seconds before the test showed a negative result she has actually hoped for a second line. Yes, it would have change their lives forever, but she was sure it would have been in a good way.

“Good.” He smiled warmly. “In that case we are at least on the same page. I actually was a bit excited, maybe a bit too much. I – I ordered something, online.” His smile wavered a bit.

“What did you order?” Jazz snuggled close to him, needed the contact, the reassurance it gave her.

“It’s a bit embarrassing… but I ordered a onesie. ‘Daddy’s sweetheart’.”

She choked up a bit but smiled. “I bet it’s cute.”

“Yeah. I will return it, though.”

Jazz sat up a bit and looked at him. “No. Keep it. When it arrives, give it to me. I will give it back to you when we will actually need it.”

“So you want to keep trying? Or better, start trying?” The love in his gaze was too much for her now but she nodded despite her tears. “Good. Of course only after you have recovered and all. Until then – what was that about a vibrator earlier?”

Jazz chuckled, wiped her cheeks and grinned. “Hey, what about a girl being allowed some secrets?”

“Too late, you already told me. And now I really want to see it in action…” He winked at her, actually winked, and she laughed even more.

“First dinner. After that we can see what you can do with the information of me owning sex toys. But I bet there’s something you’d enjoy in my collection.” She felt much lighter now, after having told him everything. After sorting out her feelings.

And for now they could just enjoy being a newlywed couple. Everything else would be okay. She looked at him and was truly convinced of that. Everything would be just fine.

MJS Out of office drama: Jazz x Kunihiko Meet the family

When Jazz came back home after a long day of visiting venues, trying cake and picking out the right napkins to the right tablecloths she was surprised to see the lights on in the living room and kitchen.

“Kuni? Are you home already?” She took off her shoes and padded towards the kitchen where she could hear him rummaging through the cabinets.

“Oh, hi.” He looked up from his search for the right pan and smiled sheepishly. “I wanted to be done before you come home.”

Jazz walked over to him and gave him a peck on the cheek.

“And with what did you want to be done before I came home?”

“Dinner. Something simple, but I thought I haven’t cooked for you for a while now. It’s only pasta, though.” He motioned towards the pot on the stove.

“Thanks, that’s great. I didn’t have time to eat much today.” She skipped towards the fridge and opened it. “Do you want a drink? Maybe some wine for dinner?”

“If I drink I will fall asleep right away. It was a hard day, week, month,” he said, slightly sour.

“Yeah, I get what you mean. We could use a break. Maybe a lazy weekend.” Jazz put the bottle of wine she held in hand back into the fridge.

“You don’t want any?” he asked and motioned towards the closed fridge.

“Nah, I’m also a bit tired lately. Might be good to take a break from drinking for a while.”

Kunihiko faked a shocked gasp and Jazz chuckled and swatted his arm lightly.

“Don’t act as if I’m always drinking!”

“You’re definitely drinking more than I do,” he teased her just for Jazz to grab his face, still laughing, and kissed him.

“That’s just because you’re rather a lightweight when it comes to alcohol.”

One kiss followed the other and they would have forgotten about their exhaustion and taken things further if it wasn’t for the pot and the water in it boiling over. She chuckled when she pulled back.

“I leave you to your cooking then. I go and change into something more – comfortable.” She winked at him and left for the bedroom, glad to get out of her dress and the rather constricting bra. Maybe she needed some new clothes. Maybe – and she shuddered at this thought – a bigger size. Kunihiko and his good cooking… she had definitely gained some weight. Well, he seemed not to notice or maybe he just didn’t care and Jazz felt better than she ever did in a relationship. As long as it were only a few pounds she was fine with it. She should work out a bit anyway.

Dressed in a tank top and shorts she came back into the kitchen and helped him getting their dinner ready.

“Oh, by the way, you got mail. Seems important. Manila envelopes and all. I put them on your desk.”

“Them? More than one?” He seemed surprised and Jazz shrugged.

“Three or four, and some other stuff. Sorry, I have just grabbed the mail and rushed up here.” She grinned sheepishly. “I really needed to pee.”

He chuckled and kissed her. “You are so sexy, you know that?”

It was strange, even this, domestic evenings, nights without the passionate and hot sex from the beginning, just lazing around on the couch, sharing meals, getting to know each other better with every passing day – this was so much more than Jazz had ever hoped for. Sometimes she was a bit scared of the extend of her own feelings, her own happiness, but then she remembered how hard she had fought for this, how hard THEY had fought for this. It wasn’t a gift, it was the result of persistence, communication and a lot of trust.

They talked some more, ate in a relaxed atmosphere and afterwards Jazz took care of the dishes as thanks for him preparing dinner. When she came out of the now clean kitchen she found him staring at some files in his hands.

Drying her hands with a towel she walked over to him.

“Why the serious face?” she asked, taking a seat next to him. “Business?”

“No,” he blankly said and handed her a file.

“This is… a marriage candidate? What-?!” She stared at the profile. Japanese woman, 28, good at housework. Loved to cook. Good education. The picture showed her in a kimono, very traditional.

“What is this crap?” She threw the file on the coffee table and grabbed another one. Almost the same, just the age and the name were different.

“You know, back then when I came to MJS… my family wanted me to find a bride. My parents are – rather conservative. Traditional. I guess they think they gave me enough time to find a wife on my own.” He sounded a bit shocked, but also sad. Of course. He hadn’t told his family about her, about their marriage because she asked him to keep it a secret for now.

“But this? I mean, look at those profiles… how many are there?” She quickly counted the files. “Five? And all of them are – so completely dull. Nondescript. Here, this doesn’t even say if she gives good blowjobs. Or blowjobs at all. All the important info is missing! Who should be able to make a decision based on this crap?”

It was one thing that his family meddled with his love life, Jazz had already understood that it wasn’t an uncommon thing in Japan. But her professional pride was another thing. This was exactly why they had founded MJS – because the dating world in Japan was really tricky. Like everywhere else.

Kunihiko only chuckled and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer until she straddled his lap and rested her head against his shoulder.

“You know, I often wonder how your profile would have looked like,” he mused, gently stroking her back.

“Well, there would have definitely been a whole paragraph about my fellatio skills,” she answered, slightly muffled against his shoulder.

“And that alone would have gotten my attention,” he played along before he got serious again. “No, really, what would you write in your own profile.”

“Hmm…” She thought about this, it had never occurred to her to create a profile for herself. “I would have asked Miho to make it, so it would have been full of praise of course.”

She chuckled, imagining Miho writing things like: ‘Great body, but damaged heart. Handle with care or I will hunt you down and rip your balls off.’

“Of course,” he agreed with a grin. The friendship between Miho and Jazz was definitely something special, and he was aware that he had crossed a line when he doubted it. It would take some time to fix things with Miho, but he really wanted to prove her that he was the right one for Jazz, that he would make her happy.

“So, what are we going to do about this?” Jazz wearily motioned towards the stack of matchmaking profiles.

“I’m going to meet all of them and ask them about their opinions about blowjobs. Just so their profile is complete. And then I tell them that I already found the perfect woman for me.”

She swatted his chest playfully. “Stop joking, I’m serious!”

He sighed and kissed her once more.

“I know you wanted a relaxed, lazy weekend, but I think we’d better go and visit my family. I will call them tomorrow. We can take the bullet train and be back in the evening.”

Jazz sighed. It was her fault that they were in this situation; only because she asked him to keep their marriage a secret for now. Now she had to fix things. Sooner or later she would have to meet his family anyway, although she had hoped for some better circumstances.

“Okay. I think I have time this weekend, no weddings so far.” She raised her head and cupped his face, kissed him softly. “I’m sorry for bringing you into this position.”

Kunihiko chuckled lightly and kissed her back, not that softly. “I actually like the position I’m currently in,” he almost purred into her ear, making her giggle.

“Yeah?”

His hand dropped to her ass, squeezing lightly. “Yeah…”

Three days later they boarded the train, Jazz with conflicted emotions. Kunihiko had already warned her that his family was rather traditional, conservative and strict. Not so much his parents but his grandparents and aunts and uncles. She was nervous. Last time she met her parents-in-law she found herself under scrutiny of Akane Kujoro and we all know how THAT ended. And back then she hadn’t even been working for a marriage matchmaking agency where the clients had to literally bare everything of them in order to create a profile.

She was nervous. She was beyond nervous to be honest. Although she had brought her laptop to work during the trip she couldn’t focus at all. Instead she fidgeted with her clothes, her hair, her hand until Kunihiko sighed and grabbed her hand, squeezed it lightly and smiled reassuringly.

“Relax, love. It’s okay, it’s not as if they could do anything. We ARE already married. You are just going to meet my family and I’m just informing them that they can stop looking for my future wife because I already have a wonderful wife.”

She smiled back, still nervous. If it only was that simple.

“Tell me again that you love me,” she demanded, almost pouting.

“I love you. Only you. You are the only woman I want to spend my life with, the only I can see myself with in the future.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips gently, one after the other. “And that is exactly what I am going to tell my family.”

Jazz took a shaky breath and nodded, slightly choked up. “Thank you…” She knew she would need some strength to face his family but she wanted to be a wife he could be proud of; a wife who would support him, fight for their love.

The trip seemed to take forever but they arrived before noon.

“We can have lunch somewhere but I assume that my family has prepared something,” he said, giving her the choice and effectively a short reprieve.

“We don’t want to keep them waiting,” she firmly answered, putting this off wouldn’t help after all. Better to get over with it before her anxiety spiked.

“Okay. Don’t worry, everything is going to be alright.” Kunihiko hailed a cab and Jazz wished it would drive anywhere but to the address he gave the driver. She was such a coward.

They were heading towards the house of his grandparents, a huge and traditional estate that took her breath away. Jazz knew that Kunihiko was quite wealthy but she had assumed that he had earned the money with his company, not that money ran in his family.

“Wow…” She couldn’t help but stare in awe and growing terror. Her own family was rather – well, average. Her parents had a small house, nothing fancy, and both worked hard for their money. She and her siblings – a brother and a younger sister – had been brought up in the knowledge that working was necessary and that there was nothing to be ashamed of in earning their own money. So Jazz had started working part-time jobs as soon as she had been old enough. It helped her pay for clothes and her hobbies and later to get her through college. She had been a babysitter, worked in retail and service, fully aware that her future career better offered a bit more glamour. She would have never guessed to end as an event planner in Japan but she loved that job. She loved working at MJS even more, being an associate, a founding member of the agency was something that filled her with pride.

She might not have the same background but definitely the same dedication to her job like Kunihiko. Jazz straightened up and took a deep breath. She was ready to face whatever would come, with Kunihiko at her side.

At least that was what she thought before stepping into the house, with the tatami mats and the paper doors it felt like stepping into another century. Or one of the historic dramas they showed on TV. Hadn’t Saeki just written some script about a forbidden love in the Edo era?

She quickly focused again, the surroundings making her nervous again.

Someone dressed in a kimono took Kunihiko’s jacket and threw Jazz a questioning glance but Kuni simply helped Jazz out of her jacket and handed it over. Was that a relative or some kind of staff? She didn’t dare to ask, simply followed her husband without a word. She didn’t want to embarrass him after all.

In front of some paper doors they stopped and Kunihiko turned towards her. Jazz could hear voices and her heart started to race again.

“It’s okay, just breathe. We will be fine, I promise.” His voice was only a whisper but it helped her to calm down. When she nodded Kunihiko opened the door and they stepped into a huge room, filled with several people, all clad in traditional Japanese clothes, sitting on the floor.

“Ah, Kunihiko, you finally arrived.” A stern looking, older woman beckoned them closer, or better, him. She frowned when she noticed Jazz.

“Who is that? You didn’t say you were bringing someone.”

Kunihiko bowed his head slightly and straightened up again.

“Sobo, thank you for having us. This is Jazz Mann. My wife.”

With a nervous smile Jazz bowed her head, just enough to show respect but not so much that she would make herself small. She was a smart and proud woman after all. And she was married to Kunihiko.

“Obaasan, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Kunihiko’s grandmother didn’t even spare her a glance, instead she glared at Kunihiko.

“Your wife? What is that nonsense? We send you a choice of profiles for suitable young women. Why did you bring someone like her?”

Now that escalated quickly. Jazz bit her tongue, didn’t want to make a bad impression right from the start.

“Sobo, you wanted me to get married and I did. Even before you sent those profiles to be honest. But I preferred to choose my wife on my own. I wanted someone I actually love and here she is. She is smart, successful, independent and at the same time she supports me, helps me to see where I’m wrong without being presumptuous.”

Jazz blinked a few times. She knew he loved her, he told her often enough, but hearing him saying all these things about her in front of his family was something else. She felt the love well up inside of her, her smile grew and was genuine now. But only for a second.

“You already married this woman? Without introducing her first? Without asking for our permission?” His grandmother seemed disappointed, clearly disapproving of their marriage.

“I didn’t know I needed ‘permission’,” he replied, still respectful but standing his ground. His grandmother made a sound between a snort and a click of her tongue.

“It would have been only proper to introduce us first. Why did you hide her from us?” She shot Jazz a taxing gaze, finally acknowledging her presence. And all the others followed her gaze so that Jazz found herself the center of attention.

“Besides the obvious issues.”

That hurt, but Jazz kept her head up high and her eyes trained on his grandmother, still slightly smiling.

“And what would be the obvious issues, obaasan?” She sounded calmer than she felt, proud that her emotions didn’t show in her voice.

“You are not Japanese. We know nothing about you and your heritage. Your family. We can’t know if you are honorable.” There was no accusation or malice, she was just stating the truth.

“You could just ask me. I can tell you what you need to know.” Jazz’s offer caused a stir in the group but Kunihiko stayed calm so she figured she hadn’t just accidently offended everyone in the room.

“You could lie,” a woman, probably Kunihiko’s aunt, said.

“I could, but what would that do for me? I’m actually a stickler for honesty.” Jazz shrugged, but she knew that if they didn’t want to listen to her they wouldn’t.

“I think we should have a more private conversation. Miss Mann, would you excuse us, please?” Kunihiko’s grandmother pointed towards the door and Jazz shared a short glance with her husband who gave her a smile and a nod. She was guided away by the same person who greeted them first, still unsure of their status in this house. But since it didn’t matter much to her she was simply polite and thanked the woman who bowed her head briefly and left Jazz in a smaller room without much furniture. This wasn’t going well.

She hadn’t expected them to welcome her with open arms, but at least to be allowed to stay for the explanation. Not getting send out of the room like a child when the grown-ups talked. Jazz made up her mind and slipped out of the room, tried to find her way back to room with Kunihiko and his family. She followed the faint sounds of voices until she could hear them more or less clearly. These walls were really thin.

“… the matchmaker? No one marries the matchmaker! That’s just not –“

“Sobo, I am not discussing this! Marriage matchmaking is a respectable business; after all you hired a matchmaker for me, too. So what if I fall not for the potential bride they show me, but the one who is trying to set me up? She knows me, she knows me better than anyone else. And she still fell for me. I think that is the most important part of this whole story: we LOVE each other. She has proven that over and over and I am willing to prove it for the rest of my life.”

Her heart felt like bursting at those words. He really stood up to his grandmother, only for Jazz. Only for them.

“But she is a foreigner!” someone else said, a male voice.

“That doesn’t matter. She is a wonderful person, honest and kind. Respectable. She comes from a respectable family, has studied and worked hard to get where she is now. She and her friends have their own business and lately they have even expanded their service, now offering wedding planning as well. They are making people happy and Jazz is making ME happy. I don’t care about where she was born.”

Jazz held her breath, trying not to make a sound and give the fact away that she was eavesdropping.

“What if one day she decides she wants to back?” another voice asked.

“Then I will go with her.”

They had never talked about this and honestly, Jazz hadn’t even thought about going back home ever since they had cleared everything, ever since she had decided to really do this, to accept her feelings for him and not to hold anything back anymore.

“If you had introduced her before rushing into a marriage like a fool we could have at least find someone to do a background check on her,” his grandmother stated.

“And I would have asked you not to do that,” Kunihiko shot back. “I trust her. She has told me everything I need to know, even if it wasn’t flattering.”

“Son, you have to admit that it looks rather strange when you go to matchmaking agency only to marry the matchmaker in the end. Head over heels. We are simply worried she might have – ulterior motives.”

Was that his father? Jazz blood started to boil. She wasn’t some money grubbing gold digger, she had her own business! (And the divorce settlement from Ai, but that wasn’t the point here.)

Jazz cleared her throat loudly, announcing her presence.

“May I enter?” Her heart was pounding like crazy but she wouldn’t back down now. Not when all this was about her.

“It is rude to eavesdrop,” his grandmother said, rather miffed.

“It also rude to talk about people behind their backs,” Jazz firmly answered. Not backing down.

“I understand that you are concerned,” Jazz continued, “and I take it as a sign of your affection towards Kunihiko. But I don’t like what you are implying. Fact is that we have a prenup, and fact is also that it was ME who wanted that. I understand that he is a successful business man and that his name and property have to be protected.”

She looked at Kunihiko who seemed relieved to see her. Good, at least one person here.

“Actually Jazz didn’t want to marry me at first,” he suddenly said, earning some surprised and some disapproving glances. “I had to woo her and convince her to give me a chance. And when she said ‘yes’ I just jumped at the chance.”

That was a very sugarcoated version, but it wasn’t a lie after all. What if they learned of her divorce?

“Is there a reason for your hasty wedding?” his grandmother asked, glaring at Jazz.

“What do you mean, sobo?” Kunihiko tensed a bit and Jazz could feel her stomach churn.

“There are two likely explanations,” the older woman went on. “Green card or… Kunihiko, did you – get her with child?”

Jazz gasped. She paled before the blood rushed into her face. “Are you implying I tricked him into marrying me?”

Kunihiko grabbed her hand, surprised to feel it trembling in his.

“I think we are done here. If you are rude towards my wife I feel not obliged to stay any longer.”

“If you go now – Kunihiko, you know what might happen,” his grandmother almost threateningly said.

“If that is what you have to do, then do it.” Kunihiko bowed his head slightly and tugged at Jazz’s hand. She had trouble to hold her tears back. This wasn’t what she wanted for him, being threatened to get kicked out of the family because he married her.

She managed to pull herself together until they were outside, standing at the street trying to find another cab.

“I’m sorry,” they said at the same time, just for Jazz to lose it and burst out into tears.

“I’m so sorry, really! I didn’t – when I asked you to keep it a secret for now I didn’t think this would happen…”

“Hey…” Kunihiko hugged her tightly. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault. They would have been unhappy with my choice even if I had introduced you before. It’s not about me being married, they want me to marry who they see fit. But I want you, so tough luck for them.”

“Shit,” she muttered. “Kuni, I feel as if I should offer to set you free so your family can be happy – but I can’t. I know I’m selfish, but I don’t want to give up on you. Give up on US. On what we have.”

“Shhhh…” He cupped her face and kissed her softly. “I wouldn’t accept that anyway. You have said ‘yes’, now you’re stuck with me. You are my wife and you are the only one I want. It will be fine, don’t worry.”

“But they are your family!” Jazz sobbed, thinking about her own family back home. They might fight every now and then but they still loved each other. They wouldn’t turn their backs on her just because she married someone they didn’t approve of.

“You are my family now,” he corrected her and wiped some tears off her cheek. “Although it might be difficult now to get you into my family register so you can have my name.”

She shrugged. “It’s only a name, right? As long as I can be your wife I don’t care. It was just – it’s nice to have the same name. Not necessary, but nice.”

He chuckled. “I could still take your name, you know?”

That made her laugh. She had never even thought about it. “Wouldn’t they be furious if you did?”

“Do you really think that’s important right now?”

She shook her head before she rested it against his chest. “Let’s go home, okay?”

But before they could call for a cab the gate to his family’s estate opened.

“Kunihiko?” It was a middle aged man and Jazz practically jumped back a bit only to get pulled back by her husband. He didn’t want to let her go, not even to preserve appearance.

“Otousama,” he replied and Jazz’s eyes widened. His father.

“I am sorry for the way things escalated. You know your grandmother can be – rather stubborn. I am sorry if she has offended you and your wife.”

Jazz could see the similarities between the two men; if Kunihiko looked like that in 20 or 30 years Jazz wouldn’t complain.

“I know this is a bit sudden, but this is my choice,” Kunihiko firmly said, squeezing Jazz slightly.

“It is. And I am sure Miss Ma- Jazz is a wonderful woman. After all she is the one who captured your heart. It might need some time but I will do whatever I can to calm the waves. I only hope next time we meet will be under better circumstances.”

Jazz pushed against Kunihiko’s chest until he finally gave her free and she could face his father.

“I am grateful for your words and I also hope that we can meet again soon. At a more joyous occasion.” She looked at Kuni briefly and he nodded.

“We are going to have a ceremony in some time and want to invite you. And mom of course. And whoever is happy for us.” Kunihiko bowed his head slightly and his father exhaled loudly, apparently relieved.

“We will gladly come and celebrate with you. Jazz, take good care of my son. He can be a bit foolish sometimes, but he is a fine man.” Mr. Aikawa bowed back and Jazz nodded.

“Don’t worry, I will.”

On their trip back home they both were unusually silent. Jazz couldn’t focus, her mind was racing like the train they were sitting in. She stared out of the window, unable to actually see something. All she could think about was the expression on Kunihiko’s face when his grandmother insinuated that he had knocked Jazz up. And the small box in the bathroom, hidden behind the towels. The pregnancy test she had put off for much too long already.