Tag: Jinpachi Yushima

The scent of smoke – Part 10

The last song just faded when they reached the free space in front of the stage where other couples already were enjoying the music.

The first few notes of “As the world falls down” sounded, the slow song in a version dominated by piano and bass, topped off with an almost lazy female voice as lead.

“Okay, I got a problem here,” Yushima declared as they stood facing each other. “Either I put my hand on your back and touch your skin or I place it on the fabric of your dress and end up a bit too low to be modest.”

“And that’s your problem?” She giggled, took his hand and a step closer. “Back is fine. I don’t mind you touching me.” So her back it was. His hand, warm and firm, made her shiver lightly. They started in a sway, waiting how the song would develop.

“So you’re not bartending tonight?”

“Actually I don’t tend the bar at all. You just happen to catch me on my breaks when I hide behind counters all the time.”

He spun her, slowly, pulled her closer when she was facing him again.

“So you’re not a full time beer fairy after all? I’m shocked.”

“You’ll live. I can still get you a beer in most places, don’t worry.” Her right hand rested on his shoulder, with her heels she had the perfect height to look over it.

“What else did you keep from me? I can deal with you being married, but this? Might be a bit much.” His voice was so close to her ear, the warmth of his breath washed over her neck.

“I’d say ‘find it out’ but that’s an empty offer.” No amount of flirting would get them anywhere, only in a better mood for a while. And afterwards she would feel guilty, both for him and Subaru.

“Well, can’t expect you to work your beer magic all the time, can I? I mean, that dress is spectacular, but obviously you can’t hide a bottle in it.”

“Nope, there’s barely enough room for me.” Some strategically placed tape saved her from potential dress catastrophes, otherwise it was just her and a hint of underwear in it.

“I think you have enough magic, even without the beer.”

“That’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me in days,” she muttered with a wry chuckle, avoided his eyes. They moved over the dancefloor, weaved through the other dancing couples.

“So, tell me if this is crossing a line -” he said after another spin, making her stomach drop. Nothing good ever started with such an intro.

“- but I would like to take your picture.”

“My picture? Like – like what? Portrait? Nudes?” She leaned back to be able to look into his eyes, found them sparkling, the corners crinkled by his wide grin.

“You’d want me to take nudes of you?”

“No, you – I definitely don’t want that. You just made a pretty strange suggestion.” A short shake of her hair, a burst of air out of her nose dismissed any interest in getting her picture taken in her birthday suit by him.

“Well, in that case I’m glad I’m actually talking about a portrait. Keep your clothes on, all I want is your face. What do you say?”

A few questions crossed her mind, mostly ‘Why?’ and ‘Does he ask that every woman he flirts with?’ Out of her mouth came a statement, though, not a question.

“I don’t think my husband would like that.” Once again he spun her, caught her when she came back with too much momentum.

“Why not? It’s strictly professional, I promise. You get to see the picture before I publish it. Heck, if he’s that wary you can bring him to the photo shooting. Might be better anyway.”

Her eyebrows knitted in confusion she stared at him.

“It’s your smile, okay? There’s something in your smile… I can’t even describe it. All I know is that I want to capture it ever since I saw it for the first time. See? Nothing shady.”

“My smile?” How did she smile? Her face muscles seemed unable to remember the correct position, put in the spot like this. “Yeah, I don’t think my husband could help with it at the moment.” She pressed her lips together, hid her face against his shoulder.

“What’s wrong? Shouldn’t he be the one to make you smile the most?” Again his breath tickled the loose hairs, fanned her neck. She stiffened in his hold, ramrod instead of pliant.

“Thank you for the dance, but I have to go back to work now.”

“Huh? Did I say something wrong?”

A curt shake of her head and she stepped back, out of his arms and into reality.

“Congratulations on winning the award, Yushima-san. I was rooting for you.” She bowed politely, turned on her heel and made her way towards Liana without looking back.

 

“What’s wrong? Did he do anything to you?” Alarmed by the stiffness of Jazz’s back and her rigid expression Liana took a step towards her.

Jazz shook her head, kept walking until she reached a small door leading to some office space they used as storage for the event, Liana hot on her heels.

“Hey, what-?”

Once the door was closed behind them Jazz slumped down on a crate, head in her hands.

“I’m so – so stupid…” A frustrated groan and she inhaled sharply, ran her hands over her cheeks, wiped her forehead. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“You sure? Because it doesn’t look like you’re okay.” Arms crossed in front of her Liana stared at Jazz, concern and anger furrowing her brow.

“Do you know that? When someone makes a comment in passing, seemingly casual points out something and suddenly you are like: ‘Yeah, wait. That’s my problem right now!’.”

Liana tilted her head, waited for more context. “No. ‘Someone’ and ‘Something’ are a bit too vague for me to relate to.” She took a seat on a desk, crossed her legs, tapped one foot in the air.

“He should make me smile, right? Not make me worry and sneak around on my tiptoes all the time. He used to, I mean, that was part of why I fell for him. He made me happy, made me smile more than anyone else.”

From her sleeve Liana pulled a tissue, handed it to Jazz who wiped her nose. “So you actually fell for that photographer, huh? And I knew you were too into him. All that smiling and glowing…”

The statement was almost an accusation, laced with disappointment and bitterness. Jazz scoffed, choked on her own sobs.

“What? No! I’m talking about Subaru! Dammit, losing Mizuki has changed him and now it’s all gloomy and cold at home. I’m not sure how much longer I can take this. I just want my husband back.” Jazz wiped her cheeks with the tissue, stained it with black streaks of mascara.

“Oh.”

Two deep breaths later Jazz calmed down, bit the tears back.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to get all mushy and emotional. It’s just – I don’t know what to do. I offered him to listen and comfort him, he didn’t want that. I try to give him the time and space he seems to need and now we only drift further apart. Everything I do is wrong and I’m running out of options.” Either being selfish or clingy and overbearing – was there no alternative?

“I need some middle course but can’t find it.” Jazz wiped her face with her hands, checked them for makeup smudges. “How bad is it?”

“Not bad at all.” With a fresh tissue Liana dabbed just under Jazz’s eyes, biting her lips. “Have you tried talking to him? About what this does to you? He should know how much this affects you.”

“I don’t want to burden him any further, but I guess I can’t keep going like this.” Jazz stood up, shook her hands and tilted her head once right and left.

“Okay, let’s finish this job. I’ll take care of my private problems afterwards.”

“No, I got this. You go home or stay in here a bit longer, I don’t care. From here on the event will be smooth sailing, don’t worry. You need a break.” One hand raised Liana stopped Jazz from objecting and squared her shoulders. “We can’t have you run away crying every time a guest says something to you.”

 

It was past midnight when Jazz came home into an empty apartment. No text, no note told her where Subaru was; she figured he had another nightshift. After a shower she went to bed, wondering how they had gone from happily married to practical strangers in just two weeks.

After an event that took as long as the award show she only had to get to the office at noon, but Subaru didn’t come home during her extended breakfast. She left him some food on a plate and decided to take a short trip to visit Katsuragi.

 

“Sergeant Fujiwara, Lieutenant Goto, we found out some interesting details regarding that vessel you investigate.” Captain Ishigami handed Miho a report, watched her read it.

“A guest? Like, a passenger? On a freight ship?”

“Not that uncommon. Nowadays with all those cruises there are still some people who want to travel off the usual tourist paths. It’s often cheaper, too,” Goto explained, took the report from his wife and gave it a read.

“Okay, but it looks as if it’s the same passenger, several times. So either it’s someone related to a crew member or…” She let her sentence trail off, looked at Goto with her eyebrows raised.

“Or it’s someone who wants to keep tabs on the ship and its cargo. We got a name?”

Ishigami flashed them a tight smile. “Indeed, we have. You look into this. Any connection is immediately reported back to me.”

“Yes, sir,” both assured, waited until he had left with a short nod before they stormed back to their computers.

“I do the background check,” Miho announced and typed furiously.

“I match the trips the person took on the ship with our schedule of suspected illegal shipments.” Goto’s typing speed matched hers, together they tapped into databases and reports until they ran out of material in the late afternoon.

 

“I’m home.”

Jazz set her purse down, kicked off her heels and sighed when the pressure on her feet disappeared. Back home it was socially accepted for women to wear whatever kind of shoes they liked, just for some occupations there was specific footwear. She had learned early that Japan had different rules. Going to work in flats? Or even sandals? Unthinkable. Heels were part of the office lady uniform and since Jazz was already sticking out, as a pale blonde European, she didn’t want to appear rude by ignoring these rules.

Still, she was glad when she could slip out of her heels in the evening.

Barefooted she trudged into the kitchen, put on the kettle for some tea and opened the fridge to see what she could make for dinner. The empty cup and a used plate in the sink told her Subaru had at least eaten his breakfast – at some point before 6pm.

She slipped out of her shift dress, made her way into the bedroom to change into something casual. A suit was lying on the bed, the note on top of it only said ‘dry cleaner’s’. It crumbled with a satisfying sound in her fist, landed in the waste bin next to her drawer.

“That’s it.” Time for wine and pizza.

Wedding magazines piled up on the coffee table, the half empty bottle of red wine and the half eaten pizza, still in its box, were forgotten while Jazz browsed through some pictures on her laptop. Subaru and Jazz at the beach, Subaru and Jazz at their wedding day, Subaru alone, sleeping on the couch. Miho, Goto and Subaru around a table laden with food. Jazz and Miho dressed in yukatas for Tanabata. Every picture of Jazz showed her with varying degrees of a smile. It was nothing special, her smile. Lips drawn up, the corners of her eyes crinkled slightly. Sometimes her nose was also wrinkled, sometimes the dimple in her left cheek was showing. There wasn’t the one true smile, she figured.

Fueled by the wine she searched his name in her browser again. Yushima Jinpachi. Photographer, traveler, hottie. There was barely gossip about him, nothing indicated his offer could have been shady. She clicked at one article about the award event. There he was, in his suit and with the hair tied into the usual ponytail, the award in his hand. Was it strange for him to get his photo taken by some reporter?

Her bosses would be pleased with the media coverage, every article was praising the event, pictures showed the decorations and band, people smiling and having fun.

For Jazz it was just another job well done. No one would remember it tomorrow, there would be a new job to care of, and another after that. In between she would come home to a husband who hid from her.

Her glass trembled when she set the laptop down on the table with a bit too much force. Another night shift. Three weeks of night shifts, of only fleeting contact, texts and barely ever a call. No reason for her to smile.

She downed the glass, the wine was tart and heavy. Made her careless. Stupid.

Setting up an email account with a neutral name was easy and quickly done. Sending the email was a bad idea. But it also was easy and quickly done.

“Take my picture. I want to see my smile from your perspective. Your personal beer fairy.”  

The cover of the laptop closed with a soft click. Jazz exhaled, took her glass and the bottle into the kitchen and got ready for bed.

 

The apartment door slammed around 2 am, startled her out of muddled dreams. If this was an intruder they didn’t do a great job concealing their presence. So it must have been her husband. She crawled out of bed, padded towards the door but jumped when this was slammed open, too.

“Are you snooping on me?” His tie was askew, his hair a mess.

“W-what? No… what – what’s this?” Sleep still clung to her, with heavy eyelids and a tired brain she stared at him, had troubles focusing.

“You came to Katsuragi and asked him to change my shifts? You went behind my fucking back and tattled to my boss?” He ran a hand through his hair, paced in front of her. Blocked the door.

“I didn’t tattle and I didn’t snoop. I just dropped by and chatted with Katsuragi because I figured it must be hard for him, too. And yes, I mentioned the number of night shifts you’re pulling because I worry about you and your health. I also asked him if you were talking to him about losing Mizuki because you won’t talk to me or Goto about it. Is that a problem? That I worry about my husband?” Getting yelled at worked better than coffee to wake her up, it drew her anger and frustration right up to the top of her head, made it spill out of her mouth without a filter.

“Worry? More like trying to control everything. I will talk when I’m ready to talk.” He snorted, crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Sure, and in the meantime you keep running from me? Don’t you even think for one second I don’t notice what you’re doing, Ichiyanagi Subaru. I know you for years already, and so far you never, never before ignored me for a whole week, let alone three.” Her voice shrilled through the bedroom, echoed off the walls. “I have no idea what you are punishing me for, but I’m sick of it. You want to go on like this? Well, don’t be surprised if you feel ready to finally talk and have to find out that there’s no one left to listen.” The trembling of her hands crept into her voice, she kept clenching and unclenching her fists, fought against the maelstrom of emotions pulling at her, dragging her towards a dark place and words she wouldn’t be able to take back once she said them.

“Is that a threat? Are you threatening me?” His hands dropped to his sides only to end up on his hips. Straightened up to his full height, taller by a head than Jazz, he glared at her.

“It’s only a threat if I don’t plan on acting on it.” She choked on her words, her throat tight and heart hammering in her chest. This wasn’t the man she had married, this was a stranger. And he was scaring her.

“Just so you know, not the whole world revolves around you,” he hissed, eyes widening when she flinched.

“I know. And right now I don’t even play a role in your world. Not even as an extra.” A careful step back, another one and she bumped against the bed. “But whatever you choose to do, it also affects me. I’m your wife, Subaru! I’m part of your life, no matter what.” And she had failed. Failed him, their marriage, her vows. She couldn’t support him, couldn’t be there for him when he needed her the most. Because she didn’t know how.

Tears forced their way from her eyes down her cheeks.

“Call me selfish for wanting my husband back, our life back. This – this isn’t us. You can barely look at me and I – it hurts when you turn your back on me like this. Do you know when you last just kissed me? Because I can’t remember. And I don’t want to live like this. I don’t want to be in the same room with you when we can’t even talk. Or touch. When you just ignore me. I can’t take that. I just can’t.” Sobs and more tears. So many tears.

“Calm down.” His shoulders sagged with his exhale, he rubbed his face with both hands. “Stop crying already.” He didn’t offer her an explanation but at least a tissue. The bed dipped  when he sat down, he tugged at her hand so she joined him. Clung to him.

“I –  I didn’t know this was so hard on you.” His hand ran up and down her back, over warm skin and the soft fabric of her nightgown. “It’s just – I have some things to figure out.”

Frantic gulps of air filled her lungs with his scent, the usual mix of his cologne and shampoo. And something else. Sharp and bitter was the lingering stench of smoke, permeated his hair and clothes.

“I get this is hard,” she pressed out, hiccuped once. “I miss Mizuki, too. Must be worse for you. All the anger and frustration – I get that. But he’s gone now and we are still here. Only that you are not. You are trapped somewhere else, far away from me and that scares the hell out of me.” A dark place where she couldn’t reach him. “Maybe… maybe you should talk to a professional. To deal with your grief.” There were psychologists and grief counselors, as a cop he had a right to see one. As a man he probably refused to do so.

“That’s – yeah, Mizuki’s death is part of the problem. But it’s not all.” The hand on her back trembled. Jazz sat up, wiped her face. He was talking. Finally he was talking and she didn’t care what it took to get him there.

“What else is the problem? Baby, you know you can talk to me about everything. I will just listen, I promise I won’t even interrupt you. Keeping it in won’t help you.” Kneeling on the bed next to him she implored him to trust her, prayed for this to be the moment to mend whatever had been broken between them. “I can’t understand it if you don’t tell me. And I can’t help you until I understand.” Both her hands enveloped his, held it tightly.

He looked tired. Dark circles under his eyes, the frown etched into his face. She wanted to take his burden, share it with him. Make him smile again. Have him back.

“After the incident – after Mizuki got shot…” His breathing was shallow, his words slow. “Things were strange. Everyone was shocked, some cried, some were just silent.” He licked his lips, shook his head. His free hand joined their clasped ones, added warmth and pressure. “I was – numb. Functioned. Ordered the search for the attacker, made sure Fukuhara and his wife were safe.”

His grip on her hands was bordering painful. She wouldn’t interrupt him, though, silently listened to his words.

“Went to see how my team was doing.” He whispered, head hanging low. “I – I slept with Takamura.”

The alarm clock showed 2:21 am in bright red numbers. Jazz would remember it later as the time her heart broke.

The scent of smoke – Part 9

“So I‘m coming back tomorrow night,” Subaru just let Jazz know over the phone.

“Good. I miss you,” she almost sang before she got serious again. “How’s Mizuki doing?”

“Still hasn’t regained consciousness.”

Jazz could see Subaru’s face in her mind’s eyes, the crease between his eyebrows, the tight line his lips formed when he was frustrated.

She couldn’t even offer him comfort; had tried so the day before but every of her attempts sounded like a platitude, worn out and shallow to her own ears.

“Take care on your trip back,” was what she said instead. “I love you.”

His tired sigh sent a burst of longing through her heart. If only she could hug him, smooth out the frown with her fingertips.

“I love you, too. So, so much…” Subaru cleared his throat. “Okay, I have to go now. I will send you a text when we leave here, but I don’t think I’ll have enough time to actually call.”

“Okay, I understand.” Only one more night. She could make it through one more night without him.

 

“Mann-san, thank you for preparing this preparation today.” Mr. Takuchi dipped his chin slightly, waited for Jazz to bow before he went on. “As you know this is a crucial event for our agency. What are your plans for it?”

Jazz launched into her pitch, showed pictures of the museum, played samples of the music.

“The overall idea is it to bring back the grande time of photography. To honor its origins and prosperity period.”

Four men were watching her, their faces the usual polite mask Jazz had gotten used to ever since coming to Japan. Mr. Takuchi, her direct superior. Yamamoto, who had lost this job in the first place. Makoto, Mr. Takuchi’s secretary. And the actual client, Professor Nozumi, head of the award jury.

“Thank you, Mann-san. This was enlightening and I’m certain we are having a lot to think about now. We will let you know what we decide, please wait for our call.”

Again she bowed and left, knowing this was a formality rather than an actual pitch. There simply wasn’t enough time to change plans again, but they couldn’t just give her free rein. She was a woman, a foreigner, with a reputation of planning incredible weddings. But only weddings. The constant check-ins would become less and less during the next few jobs, she was certain. Almost certain. She hoped for it.

Back in her own office she checked her phone only to find the notifications empty. Eight, maybe ten hours and Subaru would come home.

“How did it go?” Liana poked her head in, entered fully when Jazz motioned towards the chair.

“I think they are going to agree to all my plans. They lack alternatives anyway.” She opened a drawer, set a box with cookies on the desk.

“You want one?” Sugar was probably a bad idea, Jazz was already buzzing with restless energy, tapping her toes and fidgeting with her pen.

“No thanks, I’m going out for dinner tonight.” Liana crossed her legs, smoothed down her pencil skirt.

“That explains the posh outfit today.” Her eyebrow raised Jazz bit into a cookie, caught the crumbs with her free hand. “You are going out awfully often lately,” she mumbled, still chewing.

“And?”

“Nothing ‘and’. Just saying I noticed. So it’s going well with Ishigami?” She brushed the last crumbs off her hands and desk, threw the box back into the drawer. Out of sight, but never out of mind.

“It’s only dinner dates so far but I enjoy it. We talk a lot, he’s really smart and sophisticated. Considerate. So yes, it’s going well.” Liana’s small smile was telling Jazz the gist of a story she really wanted details of.

“Hahhh, the beginning of something is always so exciting. To find out all the new things, try out different things.” She put her hands behind her head, leaned back in her chair.

“Sounds as if someone’s missing a bit of excitement. Not enough fresh air in your marriage?”

“Nah,” Jazz objected softly, leaned forwards now. “We are good. No signs of a lull yet and I intend to keep it like that. It’s just – I like to think back to the beginnings every now and then. Subaru really drove me crazy, weak knees and butterflies included. He still does, from time to time, but there’s so much more than tingles and a racing heart now. And I like that even better.”

“Well, we are still in the ‘getting to know each other’ phase. There is a certain tension and excitement and it’s very enjoyable.” With a wide grin Liana got up when Jazz’s phone rang. “Good luck with the higher ups and have fun welcoming your husband back home.”

“Thanks and thanks.” Jazz picked up the phone, back in work mode. The anticipation would only come once she was at home, getting everything ready for Subaru’s return.

 

When his key turned in the lock Jazz was ready. Dinner was in the oven, kept warm. A bottle of wine was on the table, together with two glasses and some snacks. Also she was shaved and showered, just in case he was hungry for something else than food.

“I’m back,” he yelled through the hallway so Jazz skipped out of the living room, jumped into his arms.

“Welcome back.” He smelled familiar and comforting, she buried her nose in the crook of her neck, but pulled back when she caught a whiff of smoke.

“Let me bring my luggage away first.” He patted her head, made her frown with this gesture. He never did that before.

“Yeah, sure. Go ahead, I’ll get dinner ready for us.”

Bowls and plates piled up on the coffee table in the living room when Subaru came back, in casual clothes now.

“We are eating here?”

“I thought it’s cozier here. Come, take a seat.” She patted on the space next to her on the couch, handed him a glass of wine.

“I missed you.” Close to him after the time apart she snuggled up, tucked herself under his arm, against his side.

“I missed you, too.” Half of his wine was gone before she offered him the first snack. “But I’m also hungry.”

They passed bowls back and forth, Jazz filled the space between them with chatter, happy giggles and an occasional peck on his cheek, lips and neck. He responded mostly with grunts, kept eating and nodded every now and then when she looked at him expectantly. Another glass of wine and a full meal later he leaned back on the couch, patted Jazz’s thigh.

“Ready to talk now?” Patience wasn’t her strong point. Despite the relieve of having her husband back he still had to tell her what exactly had happened.

“Things went wrong, someone got shot and I’m still mad about that.”

He reached for the wine bottle, refilled his glass. Jazz placed a hand on his back, the tension in his muscles made her frown.

“That much I already gathered from your calls and the news. I’d like to get the bigger picture, though.”

In one swig he downed his wine, but stayed on the edge of the couch.

“That would just worry you unnecessarily.”

“And not knowing what’s going on won’t worry me?” She snorted, scooted closer to the edge, too. “Stop keeping secrets from me, babe. You don’t have to carry that all by yourself.”

He looked at her, for the first time that night took in her expression. Concern creased her forehead, darkened her eyes.

With a sigh he pulled her into his embrace.

“Sorry. You are right. Okay, what do you know about Fukuhara and his politics?”

“He’s the next big hope for Tokyo, at least according to his supporters. Safety and progress while keeping up the traditions.” She was citing some phrase she read on a flyer a while ago.

“Something along those lines. Japan, especially Tokyo, is already pretty safe. But lately Fukuhara has set his mind on clearing Tokyo of certain crimes. Gun and drug trafficking mostly. And obviously his vigorous effort caught some interest from the wrong guys. He got some death threats, a few weeks ago.”

Jazz drew a sharp breath, sat up so she could look at him.

“That’s why you are in charge of his protection now.” Not even asking it as a question she didn’t need his answer. “And here I was wondering why it takes three well trained bodyguards to keep one politician safe. Especially since he doesn’t even hold a major post yet.”

“Yeah. And he brought his wife on this trip, so that’s also a factor. He didn’t want to leave her behind, not with how he’s getting targeted at the moment.”

Fukuhara and his wife were the model couple of modern Japanese politics, even made it on some magazine covers. Young – at least in comparison –  successful, good looking.

“Okay, so far I can follow.”

“Well, we split up that day. I stayed with the wife, Mizuki and Takamura accompanied Fukuhara.” His hand rested on his thigh, Jazz grabbed it and squeezed lightly.

“You haven’t been there?” When it happened. When Mizuki got shot.

“No. They called me immediately but I wasn’t even close.”

Jazz bit back the ‘thank goodness’, someone else ended up in hospital after all.

“So we stopped the event, got Fukuhara and his wife out of there. Police was everywhere all of sudden, plus the media. Things were crazy and I needed a while to call you.”

He exhaled, squeezed her hand back.

“I’m so sorry.” And here she had yelled at him for not texting her sooner. “How – how’s Mizuki doing?”

“Not good. He’s getting weaker. Collapsed twice. They – he might not make it.”

Following her instincts she hugged him, as tightly as she could. There were no words of comfort, no promises that it would be alright in the end.

“I’m not good company right now. How about you go to bed first? I – I didn’t even have time to think about it all so far. Might want to take a quick walk.”

Her gaze flitted over to the window, it was already dark outside.

“You just came back and want me to go to bed alone again?” She jutted out her bottom lip and batted her lashes at him, but Subaru only scoffed.

“Really? One of my coworkers is basically dying as we speak and all you can think of is what? Sex?” He got up in one swift motion, almost jumped.

“What? No, that’s – I wasn’t implying sex. I just missed you and want to comfort you. Some people like some physical contact from time to time, and I’m not talking about banging.” The change of mood was palpable, his anger so intense she never witnessed before.

“Yeah, as if. You can be really selfish sometimes, you know that?” With that he stormed off, Jazz heard his keys jingle and the door slam shut.

“What the heck did just happen?” Her question, muttered into the empty room, trailed off without an answer.

 

She was still awake when he came back, some time after 3am. Lying in the bed, the covers pulled up to her nose she pretended to sleep while he stomped through the entryway, cursed lowly. Slurred. Jazz strained her ears, could tell when he went into the bathroom – and peed while standing up – stumbled into the kitchen for hopefully a glass of water and finally came to rest in the living room. After a few minutes of silence she tiptoed over, found Subaru snoring on the couch.

The smell of alcohol was strong, even from a few steps away. She took a blanket, threw it over him. Maybe he needed this, a way to let off some steam, to deal with the anger and guilt. Tomorrow they could talk about it.

She wouldn’t apologize, though. But she wouldn’t make it hard for him, either.

Back in bed she only fell asleep when the early summer sun peeked through the curtains.

 

Jazz smiled at the waitress, paused in her sentence and waited until her food was in front of her and the waitress gone again before she continued.

“So things haven’t been exactly easy and I thought, maybe Goto could have a nice heart to heart with him about this whole situation.” Her tea was already gone again so she signaled for the waitress, avoided Miho’s gaze from the other side of the table.

“And with situation you mean…?” Miho’s hand drew a few circles into the air, prompted Jazz to elaborate.

“We got the call yesterday morning. Mizuki died after collapsing again.” Jazz poked a tomato in her salad with a fork, just shoved it around in her bowl.

“Oh shit, I haven’t heard of that. How’s he taking it?” With practiced ease Miho snatched the olives from Jazz’s salad, dropped them in her own bowl.

“He refuses to talk to me. Like, at all. Not even the basic stuff, like ‘Good morning’ and ‘I’m off’. Nothing. Just broods and avoids me.” It was just an escalation from the days before.  After coming home drunk that first night back they had barely talked more than two sentences. Mostly about what to have for dinner and who would pay a certain bill. Definitely not about how he dealt with the loss and guilt. And now, with the worst case coming true, he had completely withdrawn from Jazz.

“He drinks more.” Not so much or often that she saw the need to intervene, just enough so she noticed. And worried.

“The whole attack on a politician gave our investigation a boost, though. Permits come faster, easier. We are going to inspect a ship soon, once it’s back in port. But I guess Seiji can spare an evening to check on Ichiyanagi.”

The other guests at the restaurant provided enough background noise to cover up Jazz’s sigh.

“Thanks, that would be great. I guess I just can’t really understand what it means being in your shoes, having to deal with the risk of losing someone at any given time. Except for being married to an officer of course.” Which was a private risk, not a professional one.

“Well, you know my opinion. Gotta live life to the fullest, yada yada yada. That’s why we don’t have kids, just dogs.” Miho took a piece of bread, dipped it into the dressing.

“Which I won’t take in case both of you kick the bucket. We had that discussion already.”

“But they are such good boys!” Miho whined, her own puppy eyes  directed at Jazz in full force now.

“And they are huge! Like, small ponies. No, thanks. Let your in laws have them.” Jazz shoved a fascicle of lettuce into her mouth to end the discussion.

“Fine. But you are their godmother, if you want it or not.”

“Fine,” Jazz parroted around a mouthful of greens. “When they have their First Communion, I’ll read the prayers.”

 

Superstition wasn’t a big part of Jazz’s life, just like religion. She believed in some cosmic karma, but in the end everyone was responsible for their own happiness in her opinion. So far it had worked for her, but now she came to the point where her private life hit rock bottom while she soared at work. Every single suggestion she made for the award show got praised, the suppliers were cooperative and she even found a stunning dress for that night for a cut-price. Meanwhile her husband kept staring at her without saying a word.

He was grieving, hurt, probably mad and she wanted to give him the support he needed. But how should she do that if she had no clue what exactly it was? More time and space without bugging him about mundane questions? Encouraging him to talk to her? Just being there and hugging him?

It was a week already and she had tried it all, with no success. As if her mere presence was annoying to Subaru he kept his distance, only came to bed when she was already asleep or worked night shifts to begin with.

“Okay, flowers will get delivered tomorrow, the stage is getting assembled today. Music, food and drinks are clear, too. Looks as if we got an event tomorrow night.” Liana ticked some more boxes on her list, nodded and smiled. “That was quite a feat, I wasn’t sure we can pull it off.”

“And I wouldn’t have managed without you.” With Liana’s support she had handled every bump in the road so she only had to make sure she looked presentable for the awards.

“How about a bonus, then?” Liana tapped her pen against the clipboard, batted her lashes.

“That was a good one. How about I treat you to lunch?”

Jazz shut down her computer, stretched her arms above her head. “Or are you going out for dinner again today?”

“Lunch sounds good. I have to make some calls first. How about we leave in half an hour?” The clipboard in her hand Liana got up, tilted her head to the side. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just – tired. This was all a bit last minute and I feel like glued to this desk. Half an hour works great for me. Ramen or Italian?”

Distraction was the key. The more time she spent at work or with other people, the less she mulled over Subaru and his strange behavior. No, not strange, she corrected herself inwardly. He was grieving and beating himself up. She just hadn’t seen him this way before.

“Let’s just see how full our usual bistro is and decide then.”

A suggestion Jazz could accept, especially since she didn’t care what she ate. Eating without Subaru was only half as fun anyway.

 

The black dress was still in a garment bag, but Jazz had her hair in an updo, her makeup was also done with more accuracy than normally. Catwing eyeliner and ruby red lips, matching the nail polish on her fingers and toes.

“Isn’t that a bit much?”

The first complete sentence Subaru said to her in a week.

“With the dress later it will all come together to a modern homage to old Hollywood,” she let him know, took a careful sip from her tea. A light smudge of lipstick stained the rim of the cup, she rubbed it off with her thumb.

“Old Hollywood? In your office?” He missed her glare, was pouring himself a coffee.

“I know you are a bit – occupied lately.” The cup clattered on the counter when Jazz turned to face him. “But after I kept talking about this award show I put together over the last few weeks I somehow expected you to at least remember the date. Today. So I’m going to go directly to the location from here, will make sure everything is prepared and perfect for tonight and yes, old Hollywood is the perfect theme for my look.”

“Wow.” He slurped some coffee, furrowed his brow. “Someone’s cranky today, huh?”

After tiptoeing around him for days, careful not to upset him any further, her patience was thin enough to consider it see-through.

“I’m not cranky, I’m nervous and stressed and could use some support from my husband who’s unfortunately completely unavailable for me right now.” She frantically blinked against the tears, had no time to redo her makeup if she bawled now.

“Unavailable? I’m right here.” Arms wide open he shrugged, spilled a bit of his coffee on the floor. “Oh shit.”

“You are here, but you don’t take part in our life anymore. You go through the motions, without listening to a single word I say, without even looking at me anymore. I get that the whole situation is messy and painful and honestly, it just sucks. I was so happy you came back to me, but now you are just a ghost here.” During her tirade she grabbed a paper towel, wiped the floor clean and came back up to find his smug expression gone.

“A ghost?”

“Maybe not a ghost, but you are not yourself anymore. And I miss you.” She glanced at the clock, cursed lowly. “I’m going to be late.”

“Wait.”

He set his cup down, next to hers, and took both her hands.

“You got an eyelash there.”

His face was close to hers now, with a fingertip he carefully wiped right under her eye, showed her the lash for her to blow it away.

“Make a wish.”

When they started dating he didn’t know about this childish custom. Had stared at her fingertip with his lash for a full minute while she had explained what she wanted him to do.

“Like blowing out candles on a birthday cake, you know? Just not only once a year.” A silly superstition, one of the few she had kept over the years.

He had adapted it, made sure to offer her every eyelash he found on her face.

She closed her eyes, focused on her wish – an obvious one – and sent a quick breath of air towards his finger. The eyelash vanished, carried her hopes off to whatever power in universe was in charge of eyelash wishes.

“What did you wish for?”

Her eyes found his again, so close now.

“It’s not going to come true if I tell you.” The way she bit her bottom lip and stared at his mouth was enough of a hint, at least it should have been. But when he leaned in he pressed his lips on her forehead and pulled back too soon for her to follow up with a decent kiss.

“I don’t want to ruin your makeup. You’re looking too pretty for me to mess it up.”

“Yeah, sure. Of course. After all looks are all that matters.” A step back, away from him and the false comfort, and she exhaled deeply. “I have no idea how long the event will take tonight. Don’t wait for me.” Not that he would do so anyway.

 

Hours of busy preparation later Jazz found a quiet spot to change into her dress and touch up her makeup. Black peep toe high heels showed off her nail polish, a nice contrast to the black dress and her pale skin. Glamorous, sophisticated and a hint of teasing – the perfect outfit for tonight. She put in her earpiece, grabbed a clipboard and joined Liana who had changed into a navy blue shift dress.

“Ah, Mann-san. Is everything ready?” Professor Nozumi, in a dark grey suit with a blue tie this time, greeted her, let his gaze wander through the room.

“Yes, Sensei, everything is going according to plan. We open the doors in 20 minutes, handing out the awards can start one hour later. After that there will be time to mingle and celebrate with music, food and drinks. All in this wonderful location, filled with art and atmosphere.” She bowed politely, tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear afterwards.

“I have to admit, I was sceptical at first when Takuchi-san told me about the change in personnel, but I enjoy what you came up with.”

A waiter walked past them, Jazz motioned for him to come back.

“I’m happy it is to your liking. Would you want a drink?”

After providing Professor Nozumi with drinks and giving some last instructions to the caterer and waiting staff Jazz prowled around the museum. The last minutes before an event started were the worst, nerves made her jumpy and scenarios of possible catastrophes ran through her mind.

When the doors opened she was smiling, greeted the guests and took care of smaller problems. No catastrophe so far.

This time she was prepared when he came through the door, in a dark suit but without a tie.

“Well, hello gorgeous. Not behind the bar tonight?”

“Yushima-san, hello. Welcome to our party, I hope you’ll enjoy it.” She bowed, but grinned when she came back up. That strand of hair was bothering her again, she should have brought some spare hairpins.

“Now that I see you, I bet I will. Nice dress.”

Black satin with a halter top it was tight fitted and flared out from her hips downwards. Her back was left bare, thanks to a clever bra solution without any straps at all.

“Well, it’s not appropriate for handing out beer, but I thought it’s nice enough to stand around and show off what god and my weekly 20 minutes in a gym gave me.” She turned a bit, looked at him over her shoulder. His gaze followed the lines and curves of her body, from her shoes up to the nape of her neck. A low harrumph and he looked her in the eyes again.

“Yeah, definitely nothing I would cover up with an apron and a bar counter either.”

Her heart made a small somersault, for the first time in days her smile reached her eyes.

“Your seat is over there. Should I show you the way?” Back in her event planner mode she motioned towards a table close to the stage.

“Sure, if it’s no trouble for you.”

Jazz nodded towards Liana, handed the clipboard over and turned back to Yushima.

“Follow me.” She held her head high, accentuated her nape and back this way, teasing him on the short way to the table. All nominees were sitting at different tables, mixed in with the other guests. “Your category will be last, so you have enough time to mingle and have a drink. If there’s anything you need, tell me.”

If he was aware of the double meaning he didn’t show it, just dipped his head briefly. “Thank you, I will.”

A last smile and Jazz returned to her post, greeted the guests and showed the nominees their seats.

There was a small incident with a waiter and a glass of red wine, otherwise the presentation went off without a hitch. The Emcee found a good balance between dignified and entertaining and when the last category was up Jazz was on her toes to see who won.

“Yushima Jinpachi for his ‘Impressions of a rainy country’.”

Applause filled the hall, Jazz clapped until her hands ached, watched Yushima get on stage to accept his award.

“Thank you, this means a lot to me. I’m always looking for that special image, an idea captured in colors and shapes. It honors me others see the same when they look at my pictures. Or maybe they see something else in them, but at least they are looking for something, not walking the earth blindly. Opening someone’s eyes to a new concept, a new picture is all I ever hope for and with this award I feel as if I managed. At least for a few people. So thank you very much.” He bowed briefly, caught Jazz’s eyes while she beamed up at him.

The actual party started after the award presentation, music and drinks helped getting people in an exuberant mood. Waitstaff was busy offering drinks and snacks, some journalists interviewed guests and award winners.

Standing close to the bar Jazz monitored the event, the tension now gone, replaced by fatigue and aching feet – the default setting for work.

Her polite smile never wavered, not while facing some over the top demands of one guests and not when someone spilled wine on her dress. At least it was black, impossible to notice a stain on. Even this was more appealing than being at home and getting ignored by her husband.

“Hey, gorgeous, could you do me favor?”

At some point she must have tuned out, only blinked back into reality when Yushima stood right in front of her.

“Do you need a beer?” she asked, tilted her head to the side.

“That, too. But right now I need you to dance with me.”

Or maybe she was still daydreaming.

“What?”

“This reporter keeps pestering me and I guess the only way to get rid of him is to be busy with something else. Like dancing with the most beautiful woman here.” He offered her his hand, waited patiently while she hesitated. “Come on, it’s my big night. Won’t you give me this dance?”

The last time they had danced was still vivid in her mind. How he had held her, dipped her. How much fun it had been. Her thoughts flitted to Subaru. Would he be angry if he knew about this? But it was just a dance after all.

With a bright smile she placed her hand into his. “I’d love to.”

His fingers were warm as they closed around hers, with his free hand in the small of her back he lead her towards the dance floor.

The scent of smoke – part 7

Like the good wife she could be when she was in the mood Jazz ironed Subaru’s shirt, ignored his frantic back and forth while packing.

“Do you need anything else ironed?”

She put his shirt on a hanger, waited for his answer.

“No, that should be all. Thank you.” A quick peck on her cheek and he took the shirt from her, put it into a garment bag.

“So, you are working with the future mayor of Tokyo now, huh?” The iron in her hand Jazz grinned at him, watched his lips curl up in a smirk.

“He’s not there yet, but yes. I guess in three or four years he will run for that position.” Fukuhara Jun, a 38 years old politician with a bright future was the new client Subaru and his squad worked for.

“Will his wife travel with him?”

Subaru’s suitcase was already full so Jazz carefully folded another sweater as small and flat as possible.

“The first week, yes. The second we will be on our own.”

“Guy’s roadtrip?” she teasingly asked, took the garment bag from him and handed him a pair of shoes in return.

“With less fun and alcohol.” His smile stayed on his lips only, and not for long.

“You don’t look excited about this wonderful chance,” Jazz concluded. She hung the garment bag on a hook, turned to her husband and wrapped her arms around his neck. “What’s wrong?”

His brow furrowed he exhaled deeply, put a smile on. “Nothing for you to worry about.” A quick pat of her bum later he let go again, busied himself with shuffling clothes around. “Let me get the packing done and we can go out for dinner, what do you say?”

A second of hesitation before Jazz cleared the ironing board away and wiped her hands on her jeans.

“I don’t feel like getting dressed up again. I could just order something and we have a relaxed dinner at home. And more time for dessert.”

“Or you could call Miho and ask if she and Goto would like to come over and have dinner together with us.” His head still bowed over the contents of his suitcase he didn’t look at her, stuffed more underwear into the small free spaces around his clothes.

“You are aware that I know you long enough to realize that you’re keeping something from me, do you? If you don’t want or simply can’t talk about it, fine. But don’t insult my intelligence and experience as your wife by trying to deflect.”

When he looked up again she stood with her arms crossed and a pout on her lips next to the bed. He heaved a tired sigh, sat down on the edge of the mattress, held out a had towards her.

“I can’t talk about it, it’s work related. And yes, it’s bugging me but I promise, it’s nothing you have to worry about. It’s just keeping my thoughts occupied for now so I’m not exactly good company tonight.”

She took a small step towards him, allowed him to grab her wrist and pull her closer. Standing between his legs she ran a hand through his hair, scratched the spots she had found out ages ago to be his favorites.

“I don’t expect a great show of you. Just be honest with me, okay? See, now I know it’s not something I did or said and that’s all I need to know. You are allowed to worry about your job, you are allowed to feel sad or angry. You don’t always have to be strong, you know? Not with me.”

A muffled hum sounded from where he had buried his face against her belly, crinkled the fabric of her shirt.

His “I love you”, although slurred, prompted a deep inhale and a smile from her.

“And I love you. So you better get over with packing while I order our food. I’d rather spend the night in your poor company than with anyone else.”

 

The SS Serendipity was a medium-sized container vessel, one among countless in port. So far it hasn’t appeared in any other investigations, neither the crew nor the owner suspicious before.

“I found another mention in a phone transcript. That makes six so far.” Confirmed in her suspicion now Miho leaned back in her chair. “How far are you with the background check of the owner?”

Goto came over to her desk, handed her a couple of documents and sat down on the chair next to hers.

“He seems clean so far. No criminal record, no strange activities, no traceable connections to any name we have.”

“Can we get our hands on some destination list of the last few months?” With a few notes Miho jotted down what they had so far.

“That shouldn’t be a problem. We could call port authority for a start. That’s standard procedure and doesn’t raise attention to our investigation at all.”

“Do that. I try some other sources to find out more about the vessel.”

Working together as a married couple put a strain on a lot of relationships, for Miho and Goto though it proved to be easy. Mutual respect for each other’s personalities and approaches was the key – and taking care of budding tensions.

“Take care.” He pressed a peck on her lips, nodded and got up to contact the port authorities.

Miho pored over the connections once more, wondering where she could pull a thread to unravel this mess.

 

Cooking dinner for just one person was less fun than cooking for two. It was less work and no one complained in the end about the taste or the selection, but Liana tended to prepare one dish and eat it for several days. Her freezer was well stocked with leftovers and small servings of pre-cooked dinners she often spruced up with fresh ingredients.

Which she had to buy.

Her shopping cart was filled with vegetables and fruit, some rice and condiments. After a week like hers she deserved a treat, so her next goal was the dessert aisle. Some people rewarded themselves with alcohol, Liana preferred a bit of sugar. Not too much, of course, she wasn’t 20 anymore and didn’t lose weight easily. Better not putting on any. In a country where a lot of women were petite she already stood out with her height. A pudding every now and then wasn’t a problem, or maybe some ice cream.

She turned around the corner, faltered when she spotted the tall man with the glasses.

“Captain Ishigami?”

His eyebrows raised when he saw her, just briefly before he schooled his expression back into a neutral one.

“Miss Starling. Hello.”

‘Are you shopping, too?’ or ‘What are you doing here?’ were pointless questions that neither of them asked, but the awkward silence begged to be filled.

“It’s nice meeting you again.” She pushed her cart past him, turned to inspect the pudding shelf.

“Do you have a recommendation for me? I know none of these brands.” With a wide gesture he motioned towards the shelf, tilted his head lightly.

“Actually I like the almond vanilla one. It’s not too sweet, but incredibly creamy. If you prefer chocolate, the double choc with cream over there is heavenly. As for classics, the crème brûlée over there is decent enough. Even better if you add some more sugar and caramelize it.” She took two of the almond vanilla cups and smiled, nodded in parting and turned to leave.

“Miss Starling?”

“Yes, Captain?” Liana faced him again, still a polite smile on her face.

“How do I caramelize the sugar?”

She cocked her head, brow furrowed.

“Should I show you? I have a bit time tonight and was just about to buy what I need for dinner. If you have no other plans…”

Ishigami stared at the pudding cups in front of him, back to Liana.

“Thank you, that’s a kind offer I gladly accept. Besides the crème brûlée, what else do I need?”

 

Planning and preparing an award show was completely different to a wedding or an anniversary. The theme was constricting and vague at the same time. Graphics and photographs – finding the essence of a type of art was basically impossible.

“The location is artsy enough, we don’t need to equip the waiting staff with painter’s palettes as trays or give them paint-splattered frocks or anything like that. No photo booths or fake paparazzi either, we don’t want the artists to feel mocked.” Jazz stared at the expose, scribbled some notes down.

“So basically we have the usual setup? A fancy location and some canapés? Isn’t that the same Yamamoto suggested? You know, before he lost this job?”

Despite Liana’s objection Jazz made some alterations at the expose, put the pen down after the last word.

“Basically, yes. But we give it a completely different vibe. This band I found will add some background music, we transport the whole show to a time where photography was still analog. Classy, but with a twist.”

Since Subaru was on a business trip she spent most of her time working. Miho and Goto were neck-deep into their investigation so they didn’t even have the occasional dinners together. Perfect conditions to ponder over details and come up with the strangest ideas.

“Old Hollywood or roaring 20s?” Already armed with a pen of her own Liana leaned in closer, despite the desk between the two women.

“I was thinking early 50s underground jazz club. Too specific?”

“No, sounds good. Decorations?”

“That’s the good thing about it, all we need are some bar tables and waitstaff with white shirts and a bowtie. The museum has some white walls and some with red brick. Wooden floors. We build a small stage, red velvet curtains and some wooden chairs and we are done.” Jazz stretched her arms above her head, sank back into her chair and grinned. “This hasn’t been done before, it’s simple enough not to distract from the art but fancy enough to satisfy anyone’s need for luxury and pomp.”

“I like the idea. You think the higher ups will agree?”

Jazz shrugged, hid her yawn with one hand. “Sorry, long night. Anyway, there’s not much time until the award show anymore, so either the big bosses approve or they have no concept for it at all.”

“So what’s next?”

“I’ll get the proposal all nice and shiny and take it to Mr. Takuchi for his approval. I doubt he will refuse, so once that’s through we better start with the preparations. By the way, how’s the wedding planning going? Any problems with that?” Again she fought a yawn but lost.

“All good on that end. But are you sure you shouldn’t go home early today and sleep for a change?” Liana got up, pointedly looked at the clock on the wall.

“I will, after I got this done. We lost a lot of time while Yamamoto sat on this job, can’t afford to dawdle now.” Maybe food was a good idea, it’s been ages since lunch. “When the proposal is ready I’ll go and fetch some dinner. You want to join?”

Liana dropped her gaze to the floor, shook her head. “Sorry, I got plans for tonight.”

“No biggie. Enjoy your plans.” With a smirk Jazz focused on her task again, chuckled when the door closed behind Liana. Plans, was it? She would have to ask Miho what Captain Ishigami was doing that night.

It was dark outside when Jazz printed out the final version of her proposal, took it to the office of her superior and fetched her bag to leave.

The short walk to the small ramen shop woke her up just enough to recognize the man in the back of the small place.

“You gotta be kidding me…” she mumbled, lips already turning up into a smile and feet taking her over to him.

“Hey, is the seat taken?”

Yushima looked up from his phone, eyes widened when he recognized her. “Dunno. You got a beer for me?” He pushed the chair next to his out a bit, waited until she was sitting. “Are you stalking me or something?”

“Funny, I wanted to ask you the same.” The shop owner, at the same time waiter, dish washer and chef, came over to take her order.

“One jumbo bowl, please. Make it spicy. And can I get a beer for me and one for my friend here, please?”

“Sure.”

Jazz turned back to Yushima, found him grinning at her.

“So, we are friends now?”

“I couldn’t say ‘a beer for my maybe stalker’, could I?”

He laughed, leaned back in his seat. “I thought we agreed that you are stalking me, not the other way around.”

“Nope, no stalking here. But you have to admit, there are too many chance meetings to make this feel like actual coincidence.”

“True, but you won’t hear me complain about it.”

The fell silent until the owner brought them their beer and told Jazz her ramen would be ready in a minute or two.

“You’re not having dinner with your husband?” Yushima asked, clinked his bottle against hers.

“Not tonight, no.” She took a swig, sighed in delight.

“Rough day?”

“Hard day, week, month. But that’s nothing new, so I’ll live.” She perked up when the owner set a bowl down in front of her, thanked him and picked up her chopsticks.

“Have you eaten already?”

“Yeah, don’t mind me. Go ahead, the food’s great here.”

Hunger beat self-consciousness and after the first bite of crispy chicken Jazz slurped her noodles as if her mother had never told her not to do it as kid. Sitting next to each other gave her at least enough cover so he wasn’t staring into her face the whole time. Halfway through the bowl she slowed down, picked the bites to find the perfect balance of taste and texture.

“Don’t you like the egg?”

Her chopsticks stopped moving around, she tilted her head. “Not really. Most places out egg into their ramen, but I’m not a big fan. Why? Do you want it?” She picked up half of a boiled egg, the yolk silky and still shining.

He leaned back an inch, furrowed his brow. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. I don’t eat it, I would just leave it in the bowl at the end.” Subaru often scolded her for wasting food instead of telling the chef to forgo the egg while ordering. Before he ate the egg.

“Should I get my own set of chopsticks?”

“Why? Come on, it’s just food, I don’t offer you my liver.”

“You’re not afraid of any diseases? I could have cooties,” he pointed out, grinned when she rolled her eyes.

“You want it or not?”

“I want it.” He opened his mouth, waited until Jazz fed him the egg before he closed his lips.

“See? Nothing bad happened. Oh, except for you having my cooties now.” Jazz stuck out her tongue at him, snickered when he almost choked on the egg. She stirred her ramen once again, picked up some noodles and slurped them down.

“You are quite a handful, aren’t you?” he remarked, still coughing lightly.

“Yep, that’s what people say. But at least I’m not boring,” she replied, laughed when he shook his head. The ringing of his phone cut into their banter, he excused himself and she returned to her food. The bowl was almost empty when he came back, gulped down his beer and set the bottle back on the counter.

“Sorry, gorgeous, gotta go now. Thanks for the beer. I guess I’ll see you around?”

“Like things went so far I would be surprised if not. Thanks for keeping me company. And for taking care of that egg.” She waved with her own bottle, full and lazy now.

“Hey, would you- nah, it’s fine.” With a last wave he left.

When Jazz went to pay she was told her bill was already taken care of.

 

“I like that guy,” Miho stated and turned up the volume of the TV where a political debate was heating up.

“Which one?” Goto handed her a cup of tea, sat down next to her on the couch.

“That Fukuhara. Lately he talks a lot about fighting against gun violence and drug rings.” The bitter tea was welcome after the late dinner they had. She gently blew on the dark green surface, sent ripples over it.

“He sure is popular lately.” Goto’s cup still sat on the table, cooling off before he drank it.

“True. Let’s hope it’s not only talk but that he will actually do something against crime. I’m sick of hearing politicians promise the moon but once they get the position they wanted they can’t remember any of their words from their campaign.” She drained her cup, rolled her shoulder and stretched her neck from left to right and back.

“Tensed?” With one hand Goto took the cup from her, the other rested on her shoulder.

“A bit. You wanna help me unwind?” She turned her back to him, looked over her shoulder.

“Do you even need to ask?” His hands found the knots just below her neck, thumbs rubbed circles into her tensed muscles.

She groaned lowly, her head dropped forwards while he massaged her neck, shoulders and upper back.

“That’s the spot… oh yeah… just a bit more…”

With a satisfied sigh she straightened up, just enough so she could slump against him, one hand on his thigh.

“Thanks, I needed that.” Her hand wandered higher, she looked up and grinned at him.

“So, any spots I can relax for you?”

The TV kept playing in the background while Goto and Miho got lost in their own world.

The scent of smoke – Part 6

A blink, a heartbeat before he recognized her Jazz was already staring at him, eyes wide, a shy smile tugging at her lips. It only widened when he looked directly at her, eyebrows shooting up only to sink again when a genuine smile crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“The beer fairy. What are you doing here?” He motioned towards the seat next to her, slid on it when she nodded.

“Beer fairy? Wow, I got called a lot in my life already, but that one is new.” She motioned towards the barkeeper, ordered a pint of their draft for Jinpachi and grinned when he laughed.

“Well, Mr. Photographer, I’m here to see the band. What’s your excuse?” Over the rim of her glass she watched him, sipped from her straw, glad she had something to hold in her hand.

“Actually I’m looking for a location and heard of this bar. Thought it could be what I need for a photo shoot.” He raised his glass once, eyes widened at the first swig. “Wow, that’s good. You tried it before?”

Back home, in Europe, beer was more common than wine and she had drunken countless of different kinds. This one was new to her, though.

“No, but I take your word for it.” She sipped more fruit juice disguised as cocktail. “But then again, what did you expect? I’m the beer fairy after all.”

He laughed, wiped a bit of foam from his upper lip.

“So if you are here to scoop out the location and I’m here to scoop out the band, is anyone here for fun? Or are the others here for work, too?” Jazz set her empty glass down, smiled at the barkeeper who took it immediately only to bring her a new cocktail.

“I’m just here for the music. And the pretty girls,” the barkeeper said, earned a laughter from Jazz this time.

“I’ll remind you of that later when you bring me the bill.”

When she turned around to face Jinpachi again he was looking at her intently, a light crease between his eyebrows.

“What?”

“Nothing. You know that guy?”

Her eyes followed the lazy wave of his hand towards the barkeeper who just chatted with another guest.

“No. Why do you ask?”

“You seem familiar. I thought maybe since you work in a similar profession…”

“You think everyone who serves drinks knows everyone else?” Her chuckle got muffled by the cocktail, she set it down after another sip.

“Not?”

A shake of her head and both grinned. The band started a new song, Jazz didn’t recognize the original version but liked the slow, light melody, the way the singer breathed half of the words. Her seat was too small to dance on it, so she swayed only lightly, watched the few couples and even some solitary dancers on the floor.

“You wanna give it a go?” He tipped his head back, drained his glass and slid from his seat.

“What?”

“Dancing. You’re here for the band, right? Come on, let’s see if their music is any good for dancing.” His hand was right there, palm open, facing upwards, waiting for her to place her own hand on top.

It was just a dance, right? Nothing wrong about that. And she had to be thorough in her rating.

“Okay, yeah. I hope you can dance, because I’m really good.” Years of dance classes, only for fun but still, had made her picky when it came to dance partners. A simple two-step wasn’t enough to impress her. Even Subaru had taken some lessons before their wedding, fully aware that he wouldn’t be able to keep up with her otherwise.

“I can manage without hurting myself or others,” he assured her, squeezed lightly when her hand rested in his, warm and fortunately not sweaty.

On the dance floor he placed his free hand in the dip of her waist, safe territory so Jazz relaxed a bit. Close, but not too close. After a few steps she found her rhythm, matched it to his, gave him the lead, one hand on his shoulder. Just a dance.

“Hm, not sure what I like better,” he mused loudly, tilted his head lightly when she looked at him. “Watching you is really interesting. But this? Dancing? Having you in my arms? Also great.”

Jazz bit her bottom lip. So far everything had been innocent, easy. Not even really flirting. Should she tell him?

“So, a photographer, huh? Shouldn’t you be great with details and such? Notice the small things?”

“I’d say so, yes. Why?”

Heart pounding she pulled her right hand from his grip, raised it with the back towards him. “Did you actually miss the wedding band or are you flirting like that with every married woman you meet?”

She gave it a teasing tone, flashed him a smile. His brow furrowed before he shrugged, twirled her once, his hand now landed further up her back.

“Only the interesting ones who conjure beer bottles out of thin air.”

“Ah yes, that’s my most attractive trait. Capable of beer magic.” She still laughed when he twirled her once again, pulled her back into his loose embrace.

“Maybe not your most attractive trait, but definitely in the top three.” An easy smile played on his lips, no signs of discomfort or disappointment.

The song ended, Jazz let go of him to clap politely. He was a good dancer, not on a professional level, but solid.

“Thanks, that was fun.” Ready to go back to the bar she bowed her head lightly, not enough to be formal, just to indicate her approval.

“Night’s not over yet, and so is the music.”

A new song started, for once one that she knew. Everyone knew it, it was a classic.

“Huh… I thought they took modern songs and turned them vintage, not taking old songs and made them a different kind of vintage.”

“Are you an Elvis fan?” Again he held out his hand, this time she didn’t hesitate.

“I know ‘Suspicious minds’ mostly from the Fine Young Cannibals,” she admitted, listened for the tempo, the slow, almost lazy rhythm far from the pop version she was familiar with. Jinpachi led her over the dance floor, evaded other couples, his free hand just barely grazing the bare skin of her back, above the deep cut of her dress. Her breath shouldn’t hitch like that, it was just a dance after all.

“You’re too young to know Elvis, huh?”

Jazz snorted, glad she had an excuse to lighten the mood again with some banter.

“What do you think how young I am? And how old are you that you act as if you knew the King personally?”

“I’d say you are quiet young, but I’m not old enough for that. Still, I grew up with his music.”

Se threw her head back, shook her hair once and looked back at him.

“We all did. That’s why he’s a legend after all.” Another spin, a turn and he led her closer towards the stage.

“So, if I dip you now, will you help me up if I throw out my back?”

“How about you don’t risk it and don’t dip me?”

“And where’s the fun in that?” With one fluid motion he bend her backwards over his arm, kept her there for a heartbeat or two. Or ten, if her racing heart was the standard. Without a hitch he pulled her up again, spun her around and got back into a slow sway.

“You like danger?” she asked once she was upright again, chest heaving with what she swore was heavy breathing due to the dancing.

“I like – excitement. A bit of uncertainty. You know people who are all about security and certainty? Good for them, but life can’t be planned through completely so I decided long ago to just enjoy the changes and the chances they bring.”

To Jazz, who actually liked a certain amount of safety – hence the marriage – it sounded elusive.

“Isn’t that what someone says who’s not ready for commitment?”

The last notes of the song just faded, applause filled the air between them.

“I wouldn’t say that. I committed to a job just fine, I’m doing this for years already and it never got boring.” He clapped his hands, waited for the next song to begin. An upbeat number, more swing than smoochy dance. With a raised eyebrow, a small tilt of his head he looked at her. Jazz shrugged. Why not?

“I guess your job is pretty exciting. All those locations, all the people you meet.” Faster songs required a tighter grip so they didn’t drift apart during the spins. She adjusted her grasp, reduced their distance.

“It is. And once you get this one shot you have envisioned the whole time – incredibly rewarding.” He spun her once, led her in a circle around himself and got her back close against his chest afterwards.

“What are you doing when you’re not working your beer magic?”

Dancing was one thing, but actually telling him about herself crossed a line she didn’t dare touching at all.

“I’m a beer fairy 24/7, I’m afraid. Not very glamorous, but it pays the bills.” Let him think she was a waitress. The less he know about her the better, the smaller the risk. She refused to think about the risk at all.

“Well, as long as you are content with it, it doesn’t matter, right?”

Jazz tilted her head, almost rested her forehead against his shoulder, only pulled away when she noticed how close she was.

“It’s safe at least. Freedom and safety unfortunately are mutually exclusive, so if I wanted to have more freedom in my working life, I would have to sacrifice some of my security.”

“And you don’t want to renounce your safety.” His nod was brief, his smile wavered. His grip on her hands tightened, he spun her once, twice, led her into a step sequence.

“Do you want to renounce your freedom?”

“For a dance or two, I just might.” He grinned, dipped her low.

Jazz laughed again, somehow he managed to keep it classy and fun, not smarmy at all. Not pushy or demanding.

The song ended and this time they decided to go back to the bar, finish their drinks.

“What’s your verdict?” he asked, laughed when she looked at him with eyebrows raised high, eyes wide. “Of my dancing skills.”

“Oh, that. Well, I had fun, so you passed.” A last smile in his direction and she downed her drink, grabbed her purse and slipped off her seat. “I think I’m done with my research here. Have a nice night, Yushima-san.”

“Hey, gorgeous,” he stopped her, but didn’t get up from his seat. “I hope we’ll meet again.”

From beer fairy to gorgeous in only three dances. Warm pride prickled in her belly, shone in her eyes when she waved at him.

“We’ll see.”

The warmth in her belly didn’t fade until she reached home.

 

Children screamed and laughed, someone shouted into their general direction and the scent of grilled meat and sausages wafted through the park at the annual picnic for police forces of any department.

Jazz looked around, today in her role as guest – her husband was a police officer after all, even if he wasn’t working in the regular service – and as event planner. Mostly had already been decided when she got the award job, but she brought Liana, just in case she needed a helping hand or two. No ulterior motives at all.

“Every year I have to sit through this and there’s no booze in sight,” Miho grumbled, glared at the fruit punch as if that would turn it into something with more ooomph. It didn’t.

“Why do you even come here if you hate it so much?” Despite her sunglasses against the warm spring sun Jazz’s eyes were closed, the few rays she soaked up would have to suffice for a while. Even someone as pale as her had to be careful, white skin still was a beauty standard in Japan.

“Seiji and I had our first date her in this park. So this is our anniversary party. And of course there’s food.”

Every year they hauled a few barbeque grills over, some men from different departments volunteered to grill countless sausages, burgers, pieces of meat and fish. Salads, bread, dips and vegetables offered some alternatives for those who didn’t like meat or simply needed something to snack on before the actual picnic started.

Most members of the force brought their partners, some even their kids, especially the couples with both parents working for the police.

Subaru was manning a grill, just like his superior, Katsuragi. Goto chatted with someone, Liana was just checking if there were enough napkins and Jazz simply relaxed for once, listened to Miho’s explanations of people’s jobs, backgrounds and general flaws. Quite entertaining.

“Hey, tell me one thing,” Miho just said, set her glass down. “Lately you seem in a pretty good mood. Anything I should know?”

Glad her eyes were hidden behind her glasses Jazz straightened up. “What are you hinting at?”

“Dunno. Earlier, when this kid fell and cried, you went to comfort it. We haven’t been out for drinks since our little celebration the other day. You complain about smells more.”

Having detectives as friends held the risk of having secrets exposed before one could come up with a good explanation. But not this time.

“I only complain when Subaru smells like cigarette smoke because that makes my stomach churn. It’s not my fault you don’t have time to go drinking with me and I only comforted that kid so it would stop crying already. So if you have something to ask, by all means, ask me. But not in this roundabout way.”

“Since this is your normal level of bitchiness I take that you’re not pregnant.” Unfazed by the strict tone Miho grabbed a handful of grapes, popped one into her mouth.

“No, I’m not pregnant. You think I wouldn’t tell you if I even considered that?” Despite the hints Subaru dropped every now and then there was a clear agreement between him and Jazz. She wanted to work a couple of years longer before she put her career on ice for their family.

“You know I’m not a big fan of kids, so I thought you wanted to present me with a fait accompli.”

“Nah.” Jazz waved off, leaned back in her seat again. “Still got that handy little thing inside that should prevent any visitors getting too cozy in there.” She patted her belly, frowned and sat up again. “Since we are already talking about filled tummies, I could use a bite. Food better not takes too long anymore.”

Liana came back, a clipboard in her hand. “Okay, we got everything.”

“Great. In that case, take a seat. Our only job today was providing the supplies, the rest is up to the others.” Jazz pointed to the bench across from her seat, divided by the picnic table. “Get a drink and enjoy the nice weather. This is one of the easier jobs of the year.”

With a sigh Liana complied, the clipboard clattered on the table. “Just sitting around, doing nothing?”

“Not exactly,” Miho piped up. “You can eat, drink – albeit nothing stronger than fruit punch – play some stupid games. Go and mingle. Have fun.” Miho emphasized her words by downing her glass, or better paper cup, and waving towards a tall man with glasses who passed in a short distance.

“Captain! You remember Ichiyanagi’s wife?”

He changed his direction, now headed towards the table.

“Hello, Sergeant Fujiwara. Mrs. Ichiyanagi.”

“It’s Mann. Miss Mann.” Jazz smiled brightly, took off her sunglasses. “Let me introduce my coworker to you, Captain. This is Liana Starling, most of today’s plannings are her work.”

“Miss Starling.” A brief nod and Miho pitched in.

“This is Captain Ishigami, Goto’s direct superior. One of the best police officers I know.”

“Captain,” Liana retorted with an equally brief nod, but a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

“Okay, I’m going to check on Subaru and the food. I’ll be right back.” Jazz casually grabbed her drink and strolled towards the smoking grills, a grin on her face.

“Oh, is that Officer Nasaki? If you excuse me, there’s something I gotta ask her.” With Miho so hastily gone Liana found herself alone with the captain, his expression serious, observant.

“So, you planned the picnic this year? Impressive. As far as I can tell there are finally enough napkins this time.” He pushed his glasses up a bit, stared at the bench next to them.

“There are some things you can never have too much of. Like napkins. Do you want to have a seat, Captain? I was told to mingle but to be honest, there are still some things left I want to check before I can relax.”

“Very well, Miss Starling. Don’t let me keep you from doing your work.”

They both sat down, Liana took the clipboard and flipped the first page. “If you notice anything amiss, please let me know, Captain. I like it when things are in order.”

He cocked one eyebrow, a faint smile ghosted over his lips. “So do I, Miss Starling. So do I.”

With a carrot stick between her fingers Jazz wandered over to Subaru, greeted a few people she knew on the way. In the last three years she had met a couple of coworkers, former academy mates and other friends of Subaru, all working in the law enforcement. As if he had no life outside of his job. He was successful in what he did, with his father the former superintendent of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police he also had the best connections. Elite schools and universities, a father who had big plans for him – the only flaw in his life was his choice of wife. A strategic marriage would have paved his path to mayor of Tokyo in ten, fifteen years.

And now he was standing there, flipping burgers, chatting with some simple police officers instead of sucking up to some influential bigshot. He looked happy, though, laughed just with that woman he was talking to. She was slender, around Jazz’s height, but slimmer, less curves. Long, black hair, big eyes, pale skin. A Japanese beauty, probably named Sakura or Yuri or something equally floral and cute. Subaru nodded every once in a while, but focused on his task.

“Hello, handsome. If I needed something hot, would you be able to help me out?” Jazz batted her lashes, nibbled at the carrot with a smile.

“Hey Jazz, have you met Takamura Mei already? She’s the newest member of my squad.” Subaru put a piece of meat on a plate, carefully checked the fish and added a piece of that, too. “Here, cut into the meat and tell me if it’s done, will you?”

Armed with a fork and knife Jazz cut it right in half, nodded once. “Yep, it’s perfect. And sorry, where are my manners? I’m Jazz Mann, nice to meet you.” She dipped her chin low, not even half a bow but considering she was too close to the grill it had to suffice.

“Ichiyanagi-senpai has already told me so much about you, Mann-san. It’s a pleasure working with him, I can learn so much.” Takamura bowed perfectly, her hair like a silk curtain.

Jazz almost choked on her hastily chewed piece of fish. “‘Ichiyanagi-senpai’?”

She turned to her husband, grinned widely. “Is it too hot at the grill for you, senpai? You are flushed a bit. Should I get you something to drink?”

“No, I’m fine. Do you want some chicken kebab, too?” His eyes fixed on the grill he busied himself with turning the meat, a crease forming between his eyebrows.

“Sure, give me whatever you have, I’m sharing with Miho and Liana.” A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed her suspicion; Ishigami was still sitting with Liana. “Do you know what kind of meat Ishigami prefers?”

“The cyborg? I’m not sure he’s eating at all. Probably only recharges at night.” He piled more food on a new plate, handed it over once he was done.

“Takamura-san, would you like something to eat, too?” Jazz asked before she could marched off with most of the ready food.

“Don’t worry about me, Ichiyanagi-senpai is taking good care of me. I have already eaten.”

“Barely,” he piped up, rolled his eyes so that Jazz could see, but Mei couldn’t.

“Oh, Mann-san, I want to apologize for the smoking. I heard you dislike it when Ichiyanagi-senpai smells like it after our shifts together. I will try to cut down on it, but it’s too hard to stop just like that.”

“Most bad habits are.” Jazz shrugged, still balanced two plates. “It’s your decision, really. Subaru could just as well use some air freshener or change his clothes. He’s an adult after all and can either avoid the smoke or take care of his clothes afterwards.”

When Mei didn’t reply to that Jazz smiled politely. “It was nice meeting you, Takamura-san. I’m better taking this to the others before it gets cold.”

Out in public she had learned not to kiss her husband, especially not with so many coworkers around. He didn’t approve and she didn’t want to embarrass him.

“Tell me if you need anything, okay?”

“I will, don’t worry. Go and enjoy your meal, tell Miho not to choke on the food.”

At home he would be more affectionate, but he was Japanese after all. Reserved whenever others were around. Years ago Jazz had accepted this and now it was easy for her to simply smile and wink at him, leave with a spring in her step.

 

“I got some food for us. Captain, do you want to eat with us?”

Both Liana and Ishigami were hard to read, but since they were still sitting at the same table introducing them couldn’t have been a bad idea.

“Let me get some sides. Captain, is there anything you don’t like?” Already on her way Liana paused, smiled when he shook his head.

“I’m not exactly a picky eater.”

“Me neither. That makes it easier to decide what to get. I’ll be right back.”

Jazz watched her, glanced over towards Ishigami whose eyes also followed Liana.

“Have you seen Miho or Goto, Captain?”

“Not since – well, since I came over to your table, I suppose.” He straightened slightly, shoulders squared and chin up.

“Huh. Well, I won’t wait until the food gets cold. Please, help yourself. I hope it is okay that we invited you over, but Miho mentioned how much you dislike these gathering so I figured you might feel more comfortable with a few familiar faces.” The plate with the pile of grilled meat and fish ended in the middle of the table, the other, smaller one with Jazz’s already cut piece of meat and the half eaten fish in front of her.

“And that is why you left me with a woman I never met before?” Ishigami pushed his glasses up, turned up his mouth.

“No, I left you with her to get us some food. You could have left at any point.”

His short huff hadn’t even faded when Liana came back, balancing three plates with snacks and salads.

“I got us a small selection.”

Jazz helped her, took two plates from her hands and arranged them on the table. “Have you spotted Miho somewhere in the last ten minutes?”

“No, but if she doesn’t hurry most of the food will be gone.” Liana fixed a plate for herself, nodded towards Ishigami. “Help yourself, Captain.”

“‘Ishigami’ is sufficient.“ He took a plate, some veggies and chicken.

Jazz hid her grin by stuffing some bread into her mouth. Once she had finished her food she would have to find another reason to let them alone. She could look for Miho, but since Goto has vanished, too, Jazz was pretty sure she didn’t really want to find them. Not again.

 

The scent of smoke – Part 5

Just a chat, nothing more.

Jazz shrugged, scooped some curry into a bowl with rice and handed it to Subaru.

“Thanks. Do you want some tea?”

“Yes, please.” She filled another bowl with curry, shuffled over to the table. “So, today I was hunting for locations and you will never guess who I-”

“Sugar?” He set the cup down, turned back to get his food.

“No, thanks. But you will never guess who I met today.” She made a pause for the dramatic effect, waited until Subaru sat down.

“I probably won’t, but I guess you will tell me now.” He dipped his spoon into the curry, blew on it.

“Yushima Jinpachi.” Her chair scraped over the floor when she leaned back, smiled at her husband.

“Who?” He ate, focused on temperature and taste of his food.

“The photographer? Yushima?” Someone as sophisticated as Subaru had certainly heard that name before.

“You are aware that I am working with top of the political hierarchy in Japan, plus countless of actual celebrities, aren’t you?” He stirred a few drops of soy sauce into his curry, tried it again and scrunched up his nose. “Did you forget to season the food?”

The clank of her spoon on the table got his attention, with a frown he stared at his wife.

“What?”

“Nothing. You know what? You always complain about my cooking, so it’s all yours now. Either you cook or we order in.” She pushed first her bowl back, then her chair.

“Are you miffed now because I like my food to actually taste like something?” Subaru yelled after her, but Jazz just waved over her shoulder, slammed the door to the bedroom shut behind her. Out of her clothes and into the shower, to wash away the anger, the vague nagging guilty conscience talking to Liana had caused. The warm water poured down on her, all over her, swirled down the drain, but didn’t take the emotions with it.

Eyes closed she could almost believe she was somewhere else, but the cool tiles she rested her forehead against anchored her to reality. A last sigh and she lathered up, massaged shampoo into her hair.

“Jazz?”

The water took the suds with it, but didn’t drone out Subaru’s voice. It echoed in the bathroom, got clearer when he came closer.

“Hey, listen, I like your cooking. And I know you had a long day, so taking time to make dinner for us – I appreciate it. Do we really argue about a bit soy sauce now?”

She turned off the water, took a generous amount of conditioner, worked it into the lengths.

“How long do you plan to make me talk to your back?”

“Why? You used to like that view.” She looked over her shoulder, watched his crossed arms unfold.

“Is that an invitation?” His fingers already worked open the tie, but he didn’t pull it off yet.

“Depends. Are you going to season me with soy sauce?”

“I’m going to season you with something else,” he announced, quickly stripped down and stepped into the shower with her.

“Wash my back.”

Armed with a washcloth and body wash he did as told, moved his hands over her back, down to her butt, from there over her hips before he pulled her closer against his chest. With his chin on her shoulder he whispered into her ear.

“You little outbreak earlier wasn’t because of the soy sauce, was it?”

Jazz tipped her own head back, sighed.

“Not really. I wanted to tell you something exciting and you had to one up me again.”

“You wanted to tell me you met a photographer?”

Jazz squirmed, turned in his embrace and looked at him.

“No, I wanted to tell you I met this photographer – not for the first time by the way – in a wonderful art museum while looking for a location because – and now comes the really exciting part – I got the G&A awards job.”

“You did? What happened to Yamamoto?” Water dripped from his hair into his wide eyes, he blinked, wiped it off with one hand.

“Well, his trusty combination of catering and a ballroom somewhere in town couldn’t convince the higher ups, not even with Tres Spade as possible venue.”

Considering how fancy some of the artists could be Jazz was surprised, usually they jumped at the chance to walk down some red carpet.

“And your idea was a bit more extraordinary?”

“Everything about me is extraordinary. Haven’t you noticed yet?” Her breasts pressed against him she grinned, wiggled her hips.

“Oh, I noticed. First thing I noticed about you.”

There it was again, her laughter. Carefree and happy.

“Let’s get rinsed off,” she suggested, but didn’t move.

“And afterwards?”

“You get me dirty again.”

 

Wrapped up in her robe Jazz padded barefoot towards the kitchen. She was starving, her interrupted dinner plus the physical activities were taking their toll on her body. On weak knees she put her bowl into the microwave, set the time and went back into the bathroom where Subaru’s clothes were still on the floor. His tie, his shirt, his pants – she picked them up, took them to the hamper.

“Subaru?”

A lazy hum from the bedroom told her he was at least listening.

“Have you smoked?”

The bed creaked, fabric rustled.

“Not me, but our new squad member is a smoker. We shared a car today.”

Jazz scrunched up her nose, glared at the clothes in her hand.

“Cold, second hand smoke. Yuck.”

“I know you don’t like it, so I’ll take care of the laundry.”

“Tell your coworker to stop smoking when someone else is around. That’s not only rude, it’s harmful,” she grumbled, buried the offending clothes deeply in the hamper.

“Hey.” In his boxers he stepped behind her, nuzzled her neck with his arms wrapped around her. “Less angry now?”

She hummed, the ping of the microwave alerted her.

“Some food and some make up sex – best combination.” She turned around just enough to peck his shoulder, ran off towards the kitchen.

“Didn’t I pay enough attention to you lately for you to get moody?” He wandered after her, found her singing an easy tune under her breath.

“I like it when you’re happy.” Arms crossed in front of his chest he leaned against the doorframe, watched her milling around.

“Because you get more sex when I’m happy?” She flashed him a grin, handed him a cup of tea.

“Because I just like it when you are happy. I love you, that’s part of it.”

“You old sap.” A quick peck and she got her bowl from the microwave, slid on a chair and dug in. The first spoonful was quickly gone, the next she chewed thoroughly. “And it’s seasoned just fine.”

This time he didn’t argue.

 

“The flowers and the cake are ordered, but Miss Osmond asked for assistance picking out her wedding dress.” Liana handed Jazz some papers, waited for feedback or an order.

“Okay, can you schedule an appointment in our usual bridal shop? Try to get one from noon to open end.” Jazz scribbled some notes on one of the order forms, put it aside. “Anything else?”

“No, not really. Do you have any instructions for me?”

“Have you already booked a band or DJ? Asked if they want some performances? A photographer maybe?” The word was out before Jazz could think about it, but the way Liana’s eyes narrowed at her served as a reminder of their conversation the day before.

“No. Do you know a good one?”

“Several.” Jazz opted to ignore the dry sarcasm in Liana’s voice, reached for her file with flyers and contact infos of wedding photographers, handed it over. “Pick one, they are all good. Not exactly award worthy, but good.” With her sweetest smile she sent Liana back to her own desk, wondered again why this was such a big deal for her assistant.

 

Miho stared at the print out in her hand. This was impossible. Weeks and months of research and painstakingly reading, comparing and marking thousands of maps, papers and phone transcripts she had found a solid lead. Well, as solid as it could be.

“Seiji! Get your sweet ass over here, I need second opinion!”

Goto, buried in a similar high pile of papers, cleared a path and trudged over, leaned over the shoulder of his wife and looked at the part she pointed at.

“That’s the third time I see the name of this ship. Can’t be a coincidence anymore, can it?”

“Unlikely. How about I make some phone calls and see if we can get our hands on some waybills and such?”

“Good idea. You got someone for that?” She turned her head just enough to notice the crease between his eyebrows.

“Mhm, I might just have. Will tell you after the call.” He straightened, changed his mind and leaned in again, kissed her ear. “Good job.”

“I’ll show you ‘good job’,” she grumbled, with a smile though. “If this turns out to be something, I’m going out for a drink tonight.” Arms high above her head she stretched, worked out the kinks of her back and neck, rolled her shoulders. Caught him smiling at her.

“If this is what we were looking for, I will buy the first round.”

 

“What are we celebrating?” Jazz asked, the fruity cocktail in front of her begging to get tasted sooner rather than later. Before ice watered it down too much.

“Small success at work. And you? I heard you have some good news, too.” Miho swirled her glass with bourbon, looked at Liana who held a margarita.

“We got a highly coveted award show job. Snatched it from a coworker who thinks it’s enough to offer champagne and hors d’oeuvre.” A lot of careers had skyrocketed after such a chance, some had crashed furiously. Jazz was hellbent on making it her breakthrough, not a nosedive.

“Congrats.” Another round of raised glasses.

“And she ran into that guy again. The ponytail one.” Liana pursed her lips, not because of the lime in her drink.

“Oh?” Miho blinked into Jazz’s general direction, raised an eyebrow. “Do I have to look into that after all?”

“Nah, it’s fine. I already know everything I need to know. His name, occupation, Instagram account.” Jazz leaned back, but shot a sharp gaze towards Liana.

“You looked him up?”

“I found out his name by accident so I figured I could just – you know, stalk him a bit.” Jazz shrugged, made Miho grin.

“That’s not all you did,” Liana pointed out. “I was there when you talked to him, don’t forget that. I saw you do this – thing.”

“I what?” Jazz blinked, waited for an explanation, hackles already rising.

“You did this thing, this beaming smile and the cutesy head tilt. No need to give a guy your number or your name when you look at him like that. He’s getting ideas anyway.”

“Liana, may I ask a question?” Miho’s glass made a clinking sound as it touched the table in front of her. “Why did you get divorced?”

The direct question and seemingly random change of topic stilled the conversation briefly.

“I – we didn’t fit that well together anymore.”

“Regarding what?” In detective mode Miho wasn’t easily thrown off a track, her observational skills impressive.

Liana pursed her lips, wiped the salt off her finger by rubbing it with her thumb.

“He wasn’t as committed as I was.”

“Did he cheat?” Jazz had never asked before, they weren’t that close yet after all.

“No. He just – he stopped caring. Everything was a joke and when I got angry he shrugged it off. Basically he avoided taking responsibility for anything.” Head held high Liana met Jazz’s gaze.

“That’s a very rational, well reflected answer.” While Jazz considered herself a sensible person she was definitely more emotional when it came to past relationships. Not talking badly behind her ex’s backs, but in some cases unable to let it just go, the anger and annoyance caused by heartbreaks and breakups.

“I already talked about that with my therapist.” Not enough though, as Jazz assumed from the big gulp Liana took from her glass.

“So you prefer the serious type? Straight-laced, rational, responsible?” The look Jazz and Miho shared, a raised eyebrow here, a light nod there, and everything was hashed out.

“Well, he should have some sense of humor at least, but not just run off whenever there’s a problem or try to get out of by joking.

“A hard worker? Dedicated? Not easily distracted?” Jazz added to the catalogue, her grin grew when Liana nodded.

“Sure, sounds better than some lazy bum.” Catching up on the sneaky glances the other two traded Liana straightened up. “Hey, wait, we are not talking about me right now. It’s about you and the ponytail guy.”

“No matter how often you bring that up, there’s nothing between me and him. Glowing or not, I wouldn’t risk my marriage for some attention from random men.” Jazz gaze wandered through the bar, back to Liana. “Without wanting to sound cocky, but I could go and chat up at least four, maybe five guys here. I have a pretty good idea what kind of man is interested in me and who not. That doesn’t mean I would actually do it and pick them up. I’ve been on the other end of that situation before and honestly, it was shitty enough, I wouldn’t do that to anyone else.”

“You have been cheated on before?” Liana’s eyes widened, her glass paused only inches away from her mouth.

“Yep. Ruined my final year in university for me. Great guy, we were together for a bit more than two years. He banged this other chick behind my back for three months. He broke my heart, I broke his nose, and we still aren’t even.” Years later there was this tension in her stomach and her heart when she thought about it, less intense than when she had found out but too strong to ignore. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, smiled when she opened them again.

“Wow. I – I had no idea.” Slumping back into her chair Liana exhaled.

“Of course that doesn’t rid me of suspicion and it also doesn’t guarantee that I won’t make mistakes. Never say never. But I would not knowingly get myself into a situation that would destroy my marriage and hurt my husband. I love him after all, and he doesn’t leave me wanting for anything. Not attention, nor love or satisfaction. I would be stupid to throw that away for some fling.” With a shrug Jazz ended her short monologue, followed up with a swig of alcohol.

“And if she’s one thing, so it’s not stupid,” Miho concluded.

“Thank you.” Jazz raised her glass towards her friend who reciprocated.

“But you are still an attention whore and a limelight hog, so you love your audience and them fawning over you.”

“Hey, I thought you were on my side!”

Snickering into her glass Miho motioned for the waiter. “I am, but I’m also honest.”

“A little less honesty next time.” Jazz pouted, only perked up when Miho ordered her another cocktail.

Their conversation moved to lighter topics and after a few more rounds they shared a cab, dropped Liana off at her flat before Miho and Jazz headed towards the next stop. Jazz’s place.

“Should I call your hubby to help you inside?” Swaying lightly even while sitting Miho giggled at Jazz’s pout.

“Nooooo… I can do it. I’m just – I need to find my keys…” A hiccup rattled Jazz and her purse, the jingling of keys muffled by layers of clutter.

“You could just ring.”

The cab stopped, the driver waited for the women to figure out who actually had to get out.

“Don’t wanna wake him,” Jazz muttered, dug deep in her purse and howled a triumphant ‘Aha!’ when her fingers curled around cool metal.

“Okay, text me when you get home. Love ya…” It took her two tries to open the door and find her feet, slowly she staggered towards the door, one hand on the wall for support. Tomorrow her hangover would be the just punishment for going overboard, but her buzz pushed all the thoughts of consequences aside for now. The world spun and wouldn’t stop, Jazz managed to down a glass of water before she fell into bed, without even taking off her makeup or clothes.

 

The morning sun woke her up, found her grumpy and tired, her eye makeup smudged and her clothes wrinkled. The morning sun – Jazz turned around, patted the empty bed next to her. It was cool, the sheets smooth. Subaru hadn’t slept there last night.

With a groan she sat up, ran her hands over her face and squinted at the alarm clock. Not even 6am, still enough time for a shower and a bucket full of coffee. On the way to the bathroom she checked her phone, found a text saying Subaru had to fill in for someone and stay for the night shift. Wasn’t the first time and would definitely not be the last, so Jazz just shrugged it off, pulled off her clothes while walking and reached the shower already naked.

Clean, dressed and with a huge cup of coffee she already felt human again, smiled when she heard the key turning in the front door.

“Morning, darling!” she chirped, poured Subaru a tea – coffee wasn’t a good idea, he would go straight to bed after a full day of work after all – and hopped from her chair.

“Hey.” He pressed a kiss on her cheek, walked right past her towards the kitchen.

“You smell like smoke again.” Nose scrunched up she watched his back, how he opened the fridge and grabbed some leftovers.

“Yeah, same coworker. Asked her to stop smoking but – well, it was a shitty night and dealing with any withdrawal symptoms wasn’t worth it.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Despite the churning in her stomach she followed him into the kitchen, hugged him from behind and rested her chin on his shoulder. Or better, she tried to, but without heels she was too short.

“It’s not that bad. I will throw my clothes into the hamper later and take a shower before I go to bed.” He shoved a piece of braised vegetables into his mouth, chewed slowly.

“Okay. I gotta get ready for work now. You will be here when I get home?” Jazz drained the rest of her coffee, put the cup in the dishwasher. Subaru was a neat freak after all.

“I guess so. You want anything special for dinner?”

She kissed him, didn’t mind the drop of sauce on his lips.

“Nope. Surprise me.” A last pat on his bum and she rushed to get to work, left Subaru behind to sleep and take care of his clothes.

 

Snatching the biggest chance of her career so far didn’t mean Jazz could skip out of her other obligations. With the Nomura-Osmond wedding delegated unto Liana she had some wiggle room but still more than enough work to keep her busy and distracted all day.

One glance at her planner, just before she wanted to finish for the day, destroyed her dream of a quiet night in that would allow her to nurse her still aching head back to health.

“Liana?”

“Yes?” a voice answered from the other office, just through the door.

“What day is it?” Jazz still stared at the planner, there was no chance to miss the date.

“Wednesday, why are you asking?”

She had forgotten about it. Dammit.

“Nothing, I just realized that I have to go to this thing tonight.” Did she still have the spare dress in the closet?

“What thing?” Liana’s face, with furrowed brow, appeared in the doorframe.

“This band I wanted to check out. I consider adding them to my live music options for events and they invited me to see them play today.” Sorting through her purse, packing the essentials into a smaller one, more fitting for the evening Jazz looked up, smiled at her assistant. “What do you say, you want to come with me? Good music, maybe a drink and dinner?”

“Are you hitting on me?” A perfect eyebrow cocked Liana smirked, shook her head. “No, thanks. I can’t go out every night, I’m still feeling the last two cocktails of last night.”

Since Jazz was in the same boat she didn’t argue, just nodded. “Okay, in that case I’ll tell you  how it was tomorrow. Go home now, I’m out in ten, too.”

 

Changing into her spare dress and touching up her makeup didn’t take long, Jazz sent Subaru a quick message and hailed a cab to the small club where the band would play. Pop jazz. Thanks to countless puns with her name Jazz wasn’t into that music genre anymore, but a friend told her about this band that gave pop music a new spin with old instruments and vintage vibes.

The club was clean, had a cozy interior. Actual red velvet ropes separated private areas from public ones, lots of polished dark wood on the walls and the bars. A stage filled with instruments and four musicians. With her burgundy shift dress Jazz fit right in, she fluffed up her hair once more – the golden color guaranteed her instant attention in a country where most people were brunette – held her chin up high and her shoulders squared to ward off the annoying guys, preying only on weak and insecure woman. Her openly worn wedding ring wasn’t enough of a repellent, there were always the smarmy ones who didn’t care about her marital status, only about conquering.

The bar counter was mostly empty so she slipped onto a barstool, motioned for the bartender and asked for a virgin cocktail. Something that would make it look as if she was drinking but only raised her blood sugar, not the blood alcohol.

The singer joined the other band members on stage, they started with something easy, a catchy tune that sounded vaguely familiar but she didn’t recognize it until the singer crooned the chorus. A few jotted down notes and Jazz could focus on listening. At least it wasn’t a waste of time, after the second song she found herself turned towards the stage, her feet tapping in time with the music. A few other guests chatted, watched the band or drank, but the club was far from being crowded. So it was easy to spot him right when he entered.

“Holy crap…” Jazz muttered when Yushima Jinpachi, photographer and apparently music lover, walked through the door, directly into her direction.

The scent of smoke – Part 4

In the middle of the night Subaru slipped into the bedroom, silently joined his sleeping wife in their bed. They had separate covers; Jazz tended to toss and turn a lot and with their irregular hours they decided early to minimize the risk of waking the other up. But tonight he didn’t stay on his side of the bed, instead he snuggled under her covers.

With a tired grunt she turned around, inched closer, directly into his embrace.

“You’re back…” she slurred, voice laden with sleep, eyes still closed.

“I am. I missed you.”

In the darkness his lips missed hers, but he found her cheek. Her forehead next. She hummed, snuggled even closer.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Go back to sleep.”

They could talk in the morning, there was nothing left to say now. Subaru listened to the sound of her breathing until he fell asleep, too.

 

Miho stared at the screen, tried to predict the next moves of the organisation. It was impossible of course, they were all over the place. Drugs, guns, human trafficking – the worst kind of people. But professional, with an official front to cover up their illegal activities. A whole network of smaller and bigger businesses, more people than she could imagine in varying levels of involvement. No one they had gotten their hands on so far was high up enough to give them valuable information, most only knew their own small part and maybe their contact by name and that was all. Dead-ends wherever she looked.

“Dammit.” She pushed her chair back, away from the desk, rubbed her fingertips in circles over her temples.

“Stuck again?”

She didn’t even turn her head, although it was still strange to have Seiji at her department every now and then she gladly accepted the comfort he offered when his hands found her shoulders, kneaded the tense muscles.

“Yeah, they are – like ninjas. I hate it.”

“You hate that you can’t catch them?” After years of being together, working together occasionally Goto knew her better than anyone else. Better than Jazz even, although Jazz would deny it.

“I hate that I don’t even have a name! Not even a rumor, nothing. Someone has to lead this organisation, and it could be anyone. I could walk past them on the street and wouldn’t know. I hate not knowing things.”

She tipped her head back, rested it against his stomach. Closed her eyes and just breathed.

“How about we take a break? You’re sitting here for hours already.” He patted her shoulders, a sign he was done massaging.

“Coffee?”

“Whatever you want.”

Miho’s eyes snapped open, sparkled at the possibilities – to tease her husband.

“Whatever I want? Lieutenant, are you suggesting getting frisky here? At my desk?”

It was late in the evening, but there were still people around. This wasn’t a 9 to 5 job, crime never slept. And cops were supposed to be infused with coffee so they wouldn’t sleep either.

“You know very well that I’m not suggesting that.” His voice dropped to a low murmur. “At least not here, at your desk.”

Miho swiveled around in her chair, raised an eyebrow.

“But somewhere else?”

It was amazing how shy a man could stay despite being married to a woman like Miho. She was bold, loud, demanding – and he loved it, yet he was surprised by just how bold she could be sometimes.

Miho got ups, stretched a bit, kept her eyes on Goto.

“Meet me in the staircase in three minutes.” No kiss, just a promise sparkling in her gaze and she left, muttered something about more coffee to anyone who would listen.

Three minutes later the door to the staircase closed with a loud thud.

“Are you bolder here because it’s not your department?” Miho asked pushed Goto against the wall, kissed him before he could even answer.

“Cameras?” he managed to press out before Miho attacked again.

“Yeah, a few. Excited?” Her chuckle echoed through the concrete hoistway as she took his hand, pulled him with her, down the stairs, through another door and a hallway, dark and narrow.

“Where are we going?”

“Maintenance room. Not sexy, but pretty much private.”

“Pretty much?” His voice conveyed his doubts, she didn’t have to see his expression to know what he was thinking.

“Very private. I never met anyone else there during my short adventures.” Her cheekiness earned her a slap on the bum and a growl from her husband.

“Don’t even joke about it. You married me and now I’m the only one you have adventures with, got that?”

Miho turned around, cupped his face and pulled his lips against hers. “You’re cute when you’re jealous.” With a gasp her back hit the wall, pressed against it by her husband.

“I’m not cute… “

He swallowed up her giggles with his kiss, hands already tugging at her clothes.

“You are plenty cute… but also hot and handsome and very, very sexy.” Still, Miho put her hands on his chest, pushed him off her. “Not here. Come on, it’s just a few more steps.”

A simple door saying ‘Maintenance’ was their goal, Miho pushed it open with her hip, pulled Goto inside.

“It’s a – boiler room.” Goto took a moment to look around the room. Small, that was true, but dry and clean. Some heating installation, a locker, a table.

“You sound disappointed.” Miho grabbed a chair and blocked the door with it.

“More like the opposite. I expected a janitor’s closet, but this? Yeah, I can work with it.” That was all the warning she got before he was back, pressed against her.

“We better be quick about this. Don’t want anyone come looking for us.” Miho walked backwards until she met the table, hopped on it and pulled Seiji closer. He hummed, fingers busy tugging her shirt out of her pants to get access to her naked skin.

Miho was already a step further, her hands undoing his belt and opening his pants. In a fluid motion she slid off the table, pushed his pants down and opened her own. Wiggling her hips she got them as far down as necessary, turned around and braced her hands on the table.

No prompt needed. Goto cupped her butt the second he had a chance to, squeezed it with a satisfied hum.

“For a cop you really enjoy walking the fine line,” he pointed out, fingers finding their way between her thighs.

“For a cop you’re easily convinced to follow me on that line,” Miho shot back, hissed when he dipped a finger into her.

“I’m your husband. I’ll follow you anywhere.”

“Even into a boiler room?” She looked over her shoulder with a smirk, gasped when he pulled her hips back.

“For this? Anytime.”

 

Back in the office a familiar, scowling face awaited them.

“Captain Ishigami, sir. Any news?”

Goto stood straight, his clothes back to their impeccable state minus some wrinkles here and there.

“I was looking for you and Fujiwara. We caught another gang member.”

“High ranking?” Miho’s eyes sparkled, but her face fell when the captain shook his head.

“Unfortunately not. But not on the lowest rank, either. He’s still getting interrogated, I thought you might want to listen.”

“You bet I do!” She grabbed a notepad and her bag, nodded towards the men. “Ready when you are.”

“Good. Let’s leave right away.”

The elevator was quick for a change and they all piled in, accompanied by some other members of the special assault team.

“You’re looking a bit out of breath. Are you okay, Sergeant?”

Ishigami was perceptive, his rank as captain well earned.

“I’m perfectly fine, sir.”

The captain nodded, stared at Goto next. “Lieutenant, you’re not looking any better. I hope you didn’t catch anything.”

Goto coughed lightly, but shook his head. “No sir, not sick. Just-”

“We were working out earlier. Cardio.” An elevator full of cops and Miho lied without batting an eye.

“Keeping yourself fit. Good. Good job, officers.” Ishigami pushed his glasses up his nose, nodded once.

Someone in the back coughed again, it sounded more like covered up laughter. Miho’s pokerface was impeccable, but her elbow found the ribs of the meddlesome coworker.

 

The cherry blossoms had wilted already, left a carpet of dirty pink in the parks and some streets. Despite his efforts Subaru hadn’t been able to take Jazz on a date, but she had gone with Miho instead. The fragile, short-lived beauty of early spring was a spectacle many people in Tokyo didn’t want to miss and although she wasn’t exactly and outdoorsy person Jazz enjoyed the burst of pale pink after the grey winter.

But the hanami, the annual cherry blossom festival, was also an important date for the event season. It kicked off not only sakura themed parties, it was also the beginning for the wedding season.

Jazz was swamped with work. The little time Subaru had at home often didn’t match up with her schedule, they stayed in touch with calls and texts. A weak comfort after a hard day, but something she had gotten used to.

On the other hand she wasn’t willing to cut her hours, not that close to another promotion. Especially not when another job landed on her desk, this time not a wedding.

“Liana! We got the Graphics and Art award job!” With a wild grin Jazz found her assistant brooding over some calculations, papers strewn all over the desk.

“Wait, the big one? Good grief…”

The company had several teams, not strictly divided by field or theme. Performance was what resulted in better jobs and awards were highly coveted.

“The one and only. Four weeks, the basics are already done. Looks like Yamamoto couldn’t convince with his concept.”

Liana’s eyes widened, but quickly her expression fell. “That’s going to get ugly. Last time he lost a job within the company, he made a huge scene.”

“And almost got fired. I hope he learned from that experience. Anyway, we got it now and I’m going to start drafting right away. Can you take care of the Osmond/Nomura wedding on your own?”

Most of the planning was already done, and with the groom being a cop Jazz knew exactly what she had to do. Thanks to Miho and Goto she had arranged a handful of cop weddings, a cop ball and even – much to her dismay – a funeral or two. Cops were easy to please, a fact Miho liked to remind her every now and then.

“I’m confident that I can deal with it,” Liana assured her and Jazz suppressed the urge for a victory dance.

“Great. I need a location and I need a good idea. Call me if you need anything, until then I’m off to find inspiration.” No art gallery of the city would be safe, no museum off limits. This job could be her break though and she wanted it to be perfect.

Every day it was a little bit warmer now. Her jacket was unbuttoned and with a spring in her step Jazz walked towards the train station, smiled at the people around her.

She had already a few possible venues in mind; it paid off to be prepared after all. After the first two art galleries she went to a small museum for modern art and photography. The outside was already promising, brick walls and huge windows. Modern, with an industrial touch. Hopefully spacious on the inside. They needed a stage, tables and some free spots for people to mingle.

The entrance fee was moderate, Jazz could file it as business expense and get reimbursed by the company. Her shoes clacked on the concrete floor, her tap tap the only sounds on this lazy Tuesday morning.

Art installations and posters, photos and even some concept art she didn’t understand filled the first floor and Jazz took her time, paid more attention to the location than the exhibition. She wasn’t an expert when it came to art but she knew what she liked. For example some of the photos, black and white, shots of nature, landscapes and the urban jungle alike.

She just stared at a picture of what looked like the African Savanna when she heard the voices, turned towards the entrance area to see two men approaching.

“We could free some space over there, at the northern wall. That way you could also separate your work, arrange it by topic.” The smaller man, with salt and pepper hair and deep wrinkles, smiled politely when he spotted Jazz. But her gaze was fixed to his companion, tall, broad-shouldered, with a familiar face and ponytail.

“Now that’s a rare sight. It’s still light outside and you are already up and about?” His smile matched hers and for a second Jazz had no witty retort.

“I am. Unfortunately I don’t have a beer in my purse for the off chance to meet you somewhere.”

“Yushima-san, you know this young lady?” The older man followed their short exchange, confusion creeping into his expression at the casual tone.

“Yushima-san, huh?” Now he had a name and Jazz savored the fact that she knew something about him while he had still no clue about her. Like a game and she was leading.

“’Know’ is too much, but we met.” Yushima-san tilted his head in an almost bow without taking his eyes off her.

“Oh. And here I thought you would be here for Yushima-san’s new exhibition.”

That got Jazz’s attention, she looked from Yushima to the other man, smiled widely.

“No, but this seems to be a lucky coincidence.”

“Ah yes, serendipity it’s called, isn’t it? Well, I have to discuss some exhibition related questions with Yushima-san, but maybe afterwards he can show you around?” The excited glimmer in his eyes made him appear starstruck and Jazz smile.

“Sounds perfect to me. If Yushima-san is okay with it, that is.”

“Yushima-san would appreciate if you don’t talk about him as if he’s not here,” Yushima grumbled, scratched the back of his neck.

“Awww, are you embarrassed? Don’t be, I’m just here, looking upon your photos, complete enthralled and deeply impressed.” She winked, but the exaggeration wasn’t enough to register with the fanboy next to Yushima.

“That is the usual reaction, yes. Now if you would excuse us.” Again the smaller man bowed and Jazz mirrored the gesture, her amused grin unwavering.

The photos were indeed impressive and very diverse. Animals, plants, landscapes. With half an ear Jazz listened to the conversation, about lighting, frame size and format. Every now and then she risked a glance, caught Yushima-san’s gaze, shared a smile and looked away again.

Like a giggling school girl she played this game, slowly walked around the exhibition room, casually checked if he was still watching her. His steps echoed through the empty space, stopped short behind her.

“You like it?”

The picture in front of her was impressive, a huge tree, just the wood, no leaves, almost completely white in an otherwise green forest.

“It’s beautiful. Not my favorite here, but yes, I like it.” She turned, flashed him a smile.

“Which one is your favorite?” He brought with him a smell almost as earthy as the forest in the picture, wood and leaves, some notes of soap.

“Over there.” She motioned towards the other end of the wall, went the picture without waiting for him. “Here. This is – incredible.”

One of the few colored photos, a blue sky and vivid green fields. Bushes and trees. And at the right side a huge mountain. Smoke rose into the clear sky from its peak.

He hummed, caught up with her in front of it.

“What is it that you like about it?”

Jazz tilted her head, picked the right words from with care. It didn’t happen often anymore that she got reminded of her status as foreigner, but poetry was fickle.

“The contrast and the balance. Peace and danger. It’s like – look how lush the vegetation is. Probably because of the volcanic ashes, it’s great fertilizer. But at the same time there is this constant threat that the volcano could erupt and destroy it all. Isn’t it fascinating how life can thrive even under the direst circumstances?”

“So you like danger, is that what you are telling me?” His voice had dropped, sent a tingle through her spine. Her light chuckle was the contrast, just like in the photo.

“Controlled danger, maybe. But actually I like to play it safe.”

“But you still like to play,” he concluded to which she couldn’t object, just shrugged and spun around.

“So, some of these photos are yours? Which ones?” Hands behind her back she wandered along the walls, pointed at different pictures.

“Those over there. The whole wall. And these here,” he explained, waited at his spot for her to finish her rounds. “Your favorite is actually one of mine, too. And one of my faves.”

“Good taste.” No need to clarify which one of them she was talking about. A glance at her watch and she sighed, squared her shoulders. “As nice as it has been, I have to go back to work now. Maybe we’ll run into each other again, Yushima-san.”

“How about we meet on purpose next time?” he suggested, one hand in his pocket, reaching for his phone.

“Hmm… nah. That would ruin the thrill. No, I like it the way it is. I start wondering where you will pop up next time.” She waved briefly, left with the same tap tap she had arrived with, but more sway in her hips.

 

“What do you mean, you met him again?” Liana frowned, some florist offers in her hand.

“Like I said, I ran into him in that museum. Great location, by the way. I got the number of the owner on my way out, hopefully he will agree to such an event in his rooms.” Jazz hummed lowly, jotted some notes down into her planner.

“Yes, great, but back to the ponytail guy. Don’t you think it’s getting suspicious that he shows up wherever you go?” Several sheets of paper slapped on the surface of Jazz’s desk as Liana let go of them and plopped into a chair.

“Turns out he has a name and he actually is some kind of artist, so no, it’s not suspicious at all. He’s showing his work in art galleries and museums, so he has every right to be there. Planning a new exhibition if I’m not mistaken.” Jazz signed some of the papers, boldly crossed out some of the offers. “If they can’t guarantee us lilac I don’t even want to deal with them.”

“Jazz!” Liana’s voice rarely reached much volume, as assistant she wasn’t supposed to yell at her superior anyway.

“What?” Still her pen in her hand Jazz looked up, met Liana’s angry gaze.

“You don’t even take this seriously! He could be a stalker!”

“Oh come on.” The swivel chair creaked when Jazz leaned backwards, head tipped back, eyes to the ceiling. Her deep exhale made the papers tremble, but she met Liana’s eyes again. “He’s not a stalker. He’s a photographer, and actually a pretty successful one. Jetsets all over the world, had covers in the most big magazines. Won some awards. He’s not the stalker type.”

“That’s what everyone says and then it’s too late. ‘Oh, he didn’t seem to be the stalker type.” Liana snorted, her furrowed brow unfurled only when her eyes went wide. “Wait, how do you know that all about him? Did you look him up on the internet?”

“Maybe.” Acting casually with a constantly growing grin was impossible, Jazz quickly gave it up.

“Oh my god, you’re not – you’re not stalking him are you?”

“What? No! Of course not! I just happened to catch his name and was curious, so I checked his wiki bio. And yes, he has a wiki bio.” She picked up the strewn papers, arranged them into a clean stack.

“Do I have to remind you that you’re married?” Her arms crossed Liana raised her eyebrow, refused to take the papers.

“No, you don’t. God dammit, I’m just flirting a bit with him, it’s completely innocent. I could tell Subaru and he wouldn’t even say anything. There’s nothing to it after all.”

“But you haven’t told Subaru yet,” Liana pointed out.

“Why should I? He’s not telling me about every time he smiles at a woman either. That’s not how our marriage works.” Trust was the base, not strict rules and secretiveness. “I wouldn’t do anything I couldn’t tell him.” In a sugarcoated way maybe, but she did tell him that she met this man the first time. At least that someone helped her with that drunk guest. If Subaru forgot about it after a few weeks…

“But you haven’t.”

“Would you stop it already? Fine, I’ll tell him tonight. You feel better now?”

The stack of papers wandered from Jazz’s hands to Liana’s.

“I just don’t want you to risk your marriage over some crush.”

“I know,” Jazz softly admitted. Liana was divorced after all, although Jazz didn’t know all the details. A failed marriage wasn’t easy to stomach, no matter whose fault it was.

“And I’m not crushing on him. He’s just one of the few men I met here who didn’t directly ask for my name and number just because I smiled at him. Just a chat, nothing more.”

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 Past, present and future: Jazz x Kunihiko (past Jazz x Jinpachi)

“I still need your guest list to get the menu with the caterer done. Flowers are taken care of and we get the cake at Larme,” Jazz said and grinned at the way Miho and Goto examined the proposal she had given them. They and Subaru, who was constantly nagging, much to Jazz’s annoyance.

“What kind of location is that?” he frowned.

“Actually it belongs to an old classmate of Kunihiko. It’s perfect, a small garden for the ceremony and a hall for the reception afterwards. I think it fits the bridal couple very well.” Jazz winked at Goto; she had read the report after all and knew about their little adventure in the park. The garden was the tribute to that and when she had told Miho her idea Jazz was met with loud laughter. She loved it.

“You know we want to keep it simple and rather small. Family and close friends, that’s all. I don’t want to feed every Tom, Dick and Harry who gets us a potted plant as wedding gift,” Miho reminded Jazz.

“I know, that’s why the location is rather small. 80, maybe 100 people at the most. The less the better,” Jazz said with a nod.

“But you will invite the team, right?” Subaru asked and Goto sighed. The groom had been rather quiet so far, not even the glass of beer had loosened his tongue so far.

“Kuni, can we get another round?” Jazz asked her boyfriend behind the bar and he nodded, prepared a whiskey for Miho, a fruity cocktail for Jazz, a glass of red wine for Subaru and water for Goto. They were comfortably sitting in Long Island, discussing the wedding of Miho and Goto.

“And guess what? I got Jinpachi Yushima as your wedding photographer.” Proudly Jazz beamed at the bridal couple and Miho looked adequately impressed, but Goto didn’t even bat an eye.

“How did you get him for this? He’s a top photographer, one of the best we have in Japan,” Subaru wondered and Jazz grinned smugly.

“It was a personal favor.”

“Really? Well, anyway, I guess Kurosawa will be heartbroken that someone else is taking the pictures,” Subaru quickly changed the topic, robbing Jazz of her short moment of accomplishment.

“Even better,” Goto said. “No matter what that photographer costs, we take him.” Miho chuckled and Jazz joined in.

“So, about the bridesmaid’s dresses… don’t you dare putting us into some butt-ugly rag. We accept silver, blue or grey, matching the color theme of the wedding.” Jazz knew that in the end she would chose the dress but she wanted at least pretend to ask Miho for her opinion.

“Silver, blue and grey?” Subaru scoffed. “I thought it was a wedding and not a policemen’s ball.”

Jazz rolled her eyes. “Who are you to nag all my suggestions?” she snapped at him, only calmed down by Kuni who just brought them their drinks.

“I am the best man!” Subaru declared, almost challenging Jazz.

“Yeah? For what? Lame ideas? Honestly, ikebana and napkin folding are not the ‘pillars of a wedding’,” Jazz mockingly repeated Subaru’s earlier words, earning a chuckle from Miho.

“I told you it would be fun when they get at each other’s throat,” she just whispered towards Goto whose lips curled up into a tiny smile.

“And who are you that you come with ideas like ‘butterscotch cake’?” Subaru was angry, the crease between his eyebrows deepening with every new topic Jazz brought up so far.

“I am the wedding planner. AND the bridesmaid, so please let me do my work and stop complaining about everything. The bride and the groom are the only ones who may complain,” Jazz hissed and shot a glance at Miho. “Although I would advise them to be kind in their choice of words.”

Miho winked at her and Jazz stuck out her tongue, giggling softly.

“Honestly, what am I doing here in the first place if the wannabe wedding planner is making all the decisions in the end,” Subaru pouted and suddenly cried out in pain.

“Oh sorry, was that your shin?” Jazz smiled sweetly and batted her eyelashes at Subaru. Kunihiko chuckled lowly behind the bar and even Goto grinned.

“Just so you know, I am a really good wedding planner,” she said and took a sip of her drink. “Not everyone would get OMI to sing on a private wedding after all.”

“You got what?!” Miho actually seemed excited about this piece of information.

“Who’s that?” Goto asked, looking back and forth between his fiancée and their wedding planner.

“See? He has no idea. You don’t even know what kind of music he likes. I know him better than you,” Subaru said triumphantly.

Jazz snorted a short laughter. She had read Goto’s client profile after all, she knew more about him than Subaru could imagine.

“That’s cute, why don’t you marry him, then? And don’t forget, I know the bride better than you.”

Subaru smirked. “Are you so sure about that?” He raised an eyebrow at Jazz who knew how crude that was, especially in presence of the groom.

“Oh, I am.” Jazz had also read Subaru’s report after all. “Believe me, I know her better. In every aspect.” Jazz saw the realization dawning in his face and leaned back, now she was the one smirking.

Miho cleared her throat and sighed. “So, are you done comparing your dicks, metaphorical and real ones? Good. Subaru, Jazz is the wedding planner, she takes care of the location, the food and drinks, the whole party. You are the best man, you take care of the speeches, the rings and if necessary, the bachelor party before the wedding.”

Goto frowned and clicked his tongue, obviously not wanting that party at all.

“Everything else will get figured out between all of us somehow and until then, try not to strangle each other, okay?”

Jazz nodded reluctantly and so did Subaru, but they kept glaring at each other for the rest of the night.

“So, would you tell me how you know people like Jinpachi Yushima and OMI?” Kunihiko asked when he and Jazz were back at home, getting ready for bed.

“Funny story, I was actually living with them in the same apartment house when I first came to Tokyo,” she explained and smiled at the memory. “It was strange but they were nice, everyone in that apartment house was. Well, maybe the landlord was a bit creepy, but we always had those parties on the roof and that somehow bound is together.”

“So… you never worked with them?” Kunihiko kept asking, trying to sound casual.

“Oh, I did. At least with Jin. Not with Masa, though…” When she saw how his eyes narrowed a bit and his jaw tensed she chuckled.

“Kuni~” she cooed and wrapped her arms around him. “We have talked about this. You have promised not to pry and not to get jealous of my past.”

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I know, but I didn’t think it would be this hard.”

“You should make sure to ask the right questions, then,” she chided him gently. “I worked with Jin, but he never was my client. It was more the other way around.”

“What do you mean?” Kunihiko frowned lightly, obviously unable to follow her train of thought. Of course, he couldn’t read her mind after all. Which was a good thing most of the times.

“He wasn’t a client of MJS if that was what you wanted to know. You are aware that I had another job before that, right? And not even that job was it what I was referring to. He’s a photographer and one day one of his models cancelled on him, five minutes before the shooting. He had asked me to take her place and said he owed me a favor for it. Well, I called in this favor now.” She shrugged and nuzzled her nose against his neck. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Mhm… actually I am. Sorry, I know I said I could handle it…” He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly and Jazz laughed.

“Honestly, if I would meet someone you had sex with I wouldn’t be exactly elated, either. And it’s nice that you are a bit possessive when it comes to me. But of course you still have to apologize properly.” She let her fingertips trail down his chest and stopped at his belt.

“Do I have to beg you on my knees?” His lips brushed over hers and she closed her eyes and sighed.

“That actually sounds very tempting. Try that for a start.”

Jazz found herself staring at the picture that used to hang in her bedroom and now was stored away in a box with some of the other stuff she had brought to Kunihiko’s apartment but hadn’t found a place for yet. This picture was special, though. It was a black and white photo of a naked female body, just the curve of the hip and a part of the stomach, a bit of the leg but nothing else. It was completely safe, no private areas showing and yet it was a very intimate picture, although more for the story behind it than the actual scene.

She still could remember the way he smelled, like cigarettes and developer and something else she couldn’t name but that would always be tied to him in her mind. She could remember how he made her laugh, how serious he was about taking her picture. He had made some breathtaking close-ups of her face, au naturel, with disheveled hair but still glowing from the night they had spent together. And in the warm morning sun that was shining into his bedroom he had taken more pictures, the focus of his camera wandering from her face down her body and up again, capturing her from every angle she was still comfortable with.

“You are really beautiful, you know that?” Jinpachi smiles and looks at her over his camera and Jazz stretches lazily, winks at him and purrs: “You’re pretty handsome, too.”

Letting the camera sink he stares at her, following the lines and curves of her body with his gaze, already planning on doing the same with his fingers and lips again later. This isn’t the first time he sees her like this, naked and relaxed after one or even a few rounds of sex with him, but somehow this is special and he wants to memorize as much of this as possible.

“Say, Jazz, would you turn around for me?”

She is currently lying on her back, unashamedly presenting her breasts and the small curve of her belly, this little bit of flesh he wants to sink his teeth into, and pretends to actually think about his request.

“You won’t do anything naughty, will you?” she coos and he grins wolfishly. Of course he will and she knows it, but still she rolls over on her stomach, looks over her shoulder and wiggles her hips, lets her ass shake a bit. She knows how much he loves her ass, this firm and round butt that tempts him every time she walks in front of him, every time she bends over a bit, aware of his eyes on her.

She hears the shutter of the camera and chuckles.

“You’re really taking a photo because it lasts longer?” she teasingly asks. “I have thought you had enough photos by now.”

“Never enough,” he growls but eventually puts the camera down, his urge to capture the moment, her sensual beauty, losing against the other urge, the need to have her again and again. He hasn’t told her yet about this job that will take him to Africa for half a year, probably more, there hasn’t been the right time yet.

Jazz sighs contentedly when he gets on top of her, his weight already a familiar one that she enjoys more than she likes to admit. She can feel his hardness pressed against her ass, his lips leaving wet trails on her skin from her shoulder up her neck. His goatee tickles her a bit but she moans at the feeling of his teeth grazing her skin. He playfully bites her earlobe and she chuckles again just for him to change his approach and trail kisses down her back until he reaches her ass.

“You’re really looking good enough to eat,” he mutters and nips at her skin, the flesh soft and warm under his touch. Jazz squeals a bit and buries her face in the pillow, her body shaking with laughter, sending vibrations into the cheek he’s just nibbling at.

“Shh, hold still. I’m working here,” he grumbles teasingly and Jazz tries to hold her laughter in.

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t know it’s work for you. But in your age it as well might be considered work, huh?” Her sass earns her a harsher bite and she yelps a bit, chides him with a laugh.

“Ouch, Jin! Not so hard!”

“Hm, that’s pretty much the opposite of what you usually say.” He grins against her skin and licks the bite to soothe the pain a bit and Jazz giggles again.

“You are terrible.” It’s said with the sweetest smile he can imagine and he simply shrugs.

“That’s what you like about me. I’m terrible – terribly handsome. And talented. And I can make you scream my name terribly loud.”

She giggles again but sighs when he pushes a hand under her and raises her hips a bit, pushing her ass up in a way so he can push his tongue into her pussy, making her gasp.

“J-Jin!” she half chides, half moans, feeling a bit too much on display in this position. But he keeps her in place, tongue exploring her pussy and folds.

He groans against her skin, greedily tasting her wetness, until he finally pulls back.

“Get that ass up higher,” he demands and grabs a condom from the bedside table while Jazz sighs and gets on her knees, face still buried in the pillows.

“You know I’m still a bit sore, right?” she pouts and he grins, almost proud at her complaint.

“I know, but I also know that you like it when you feel where I’ve been for days.” He quickly rips the foiled square open and rolls the condom over his cock, his mouth watering at the sight in front of him.

“Should have never told you that,” she mutters but wiggles her hips slightly to urge him on. When he lines up, the head of his cock nudging at her core, she takes a deep breath. Despite his rough tone and sometimes seemingly thoughtless greed he’s gentle when he pushes into her but Jazz hisses and grabs the sheets tightly. There’s a faint burn alongside the pleasant friction, an unfamiliar edge. She will feel this for several days to come but she doesn’t care.

“Come on, old man, show me what you still can do,” she taunts him, grinning at him over her shoulder. Jinpachi growls and pulls back just to slam back into her, eliciting gasps, curses and moans from her.

“Holy-! Ugh… come on… harder…”

They are capable of having sweet and gentle sex, vanilla and still satisfying, but most of the times they enjoy a slightly rougher, faster pace. His hands grab her hips tightly, probably leaving bruises again. Wouldn’t be the first time.

Jinpachi is busy soaking up every last impression and sensation of this moment, he wishes he could take a picture of this right now, just to capture the way her body is bending and moving, how her back is arched, the line of her neck is exposed. He wouldn’t dare telling her that of course, fully aware of her limits. But dammit, she’s so lost in this moment like he is, savoring every touch, every thrust.

He stops, a bit panting. “Lie down.”

Again she looks at him over her shoulder before she sighs and glides forwards, smoothing down the crumbled sheets in the process until she’s lying flat on her stomach again. There is something about the way she just follows his instructions, completely trusting him and eager for him to continue, that makes him want to stay. Maybe if he doesn’t leave this could become something serious between them, something with a future. But then again, she will leave Japan soon, too. Better to live in the moment, to enjoy what they are having for as long as it lasts.

He follows her movement, covers her with his own body, his chest against her back, propped up on his elbows.

Jazz turns her head and angles it so they can kiss, messy and sloppy but sweet nonetheless. When one of his hands snake under her body, grabbing her breasts, she already knows what will happen next and tilts her hips slightly to allow his other hand to slip between her thighs. She moans when his fingers find her clit, circling the already swollen bud. To her surprise he moves slowly now, not slamming into her like usual. Not that she wants to complain, it feels amazing after all.

Jinpachi peppers her neck and shoulders with kisses, nibbles at her skin from time to time and Jazz reached behind her, wraps an arm around his neck and draws him closer while titling her hips again, changing the angle of his thrusts slightly.

“So… oh… so close… “ she whimpers and tugs lightly at his hair, urging him on so that he picks up the pace again, pushing her over the edge into her climax.

Once she calms down a bit he stops, only slowly grinding against her now.

“You okay?” He’s panting and so is she but she nods.

“Uh-huh… but I think that’s enough for today… I can’t take another one…”

With a soft smile he kisses the nape of her neck. “That’s okay, as long as you enjoyed it.”

“Oh, I did, don’t worry. What about you?” There’s no doubt that he is still hard and he chuckles.

“I might need some help with that.” He pulls out and plops down on the bed just for Jazz to straddle him immediately.

“Easy now,” he reminds her and she smiles, slowly sinks down on his cock and leans close to kiss him. She rolls her hips against his, unhurried and relaxed, rides him almost lazily. He grabs her hands and intertwines their fingers, kisses her greedily and she is a bit startled by this display of affection, usually he’s not that clingy. She doesn’t mind, though. Jazz speeds up when he starts panting against her lips, angles her hips a bit until he gasps just to keep rocking against him like this. He throws his head back into the pillows, digs his heels into the mattress, his legs trembling slightly, and Jazz sits up a bit, one hand on his chest, the other reaching behind her back, cupping his balls.

“Oh my… fu… ohhh…” With a growl he tenses, upper body rising from the bed and Jazz wraps her arms around him, holds him close while still moving her hips until he stills her movements with a hand on her hips. They share some kisses before she finally gets off him, lying down next to him, waiting until he is cleaned up a bit. She snuggles close to him, sore but satisfied, a bit drowsy.

“I’ve got a job offer,” he says into the silence in the bedroom, his hand gently trailing up and down her arm.

“Uh-huh…”

“In Africa.”

Jazz sits up a bit. “That’s good, isn’t it? Didn’t you want to go there?”

“I did. I do. It’s just –“ He sighs and sits up, too.

“When?” She doesn’t even ask for how long.

“Next week.”

“Hm…” They have talked about this, the whole thing between them is only temporary and both know that, agreed to that.

“Guess I will have to make sure you’ll miss me then, huh?” She pushes him back on the bed and rolls on top of him.

“What are you doing? I thought you were sore.” There’s laughter in his voice but also confusion.

“I will have enough time to recover after next week,” she explains and leans in to kiss him. He doesn’t object at all.

At the end of that week he gives her the pictures he has made that morning and she has to bite back the tears.

“I’ve destroyed the negatives, don’t worry. You’re the only one who has these photos,” he assures her and Jazz quickly browses through the stack of pictures, smiling at the memory of that morning. She pulls one of the pictures out and hands it over to him.

“Here. I know how much you love my ass,” she says cheekily and waits until he takes the picture of said body part.

“You sure?” He raises an eyebrow at her but she only nods.

“Something to cheer you up when you get lonely,” she teasingly replies. It’s only a butt, no one would be able to tell it’s hers after all.

“Okay. Thanks. Take care, babydoll.” He smiles at her and Jazz smiles back, gets on her tiptoes and kisses him.

“Take care yourself,” she whispers, turns around and goes back into her apartment without looking back. It’s better that way.

“What are you looking at?” Kunihiko’s voice pulled her back from her trip down memory lane and she smiled at him. It wasn’t fair that she hadn’t told him the truth earlier, although he definitely didn’t ask the right question. But she knew what he wanted to ask and she owed him an honest answer.

“Just a picture,” she casually said and showed him what she had been staring at.

“It’s pretty.” Kunihiko wrapped his arms around her and Jazz rested her head on his shoulder.

“That’s me,” she admitted and he made a non-committal sound, but craned his neck to look at the picture again.

“Hm, yeah… I can see that. That little mole there… and the tiny scar here.” He pointed at said spots and Jazz smiled.

“You have spent quite some time to get familiar with my body, huh?” she teased and turned to kiss him.

“I have. And I plan on spending even more time on that.” Kunihiko nuzzled her neck and she sighed. “Do you want to tell me who took the photo?”

“Don’t you already know?” she asked back.

“Was it for that job you have mentioned?” He created some space between them to look at her and Jazz shook her head.

“When you asked if I had worked with them I told you the truth. I have worked with Jin but only once, and only as his model. But this picture? It’s a private one. We had – something, I don’t even know how to call it. It was more than a fling and less than a relationship. I had a crush on him but I wasn’t in love. He left for a job and I thought I would leave the country, too. And then I met Ai and things changed a lot and honestly, if it wasn’t for Miho’s wedding I wouldn’t have talked to Jin ever again, I think.” She bit her bottom lip, unsure how he would take it.

“How long ago was that?”

Jazz sighed. “Feels like a lifetime ago, but it was about four years ago?” It really felt like an eternity.

“The picture is really good. Do you want to display it somewhere?”

She knew it was his way of saying he wasn’t mad, it was fine.

“No. I will keep it, but I don’t think we should put it on a wall here at home.” It was strange how easy the word ‘home’ came from her lips now. She grinned mischievously. “But we can hang it in your office. So you could always look at it when you get lonely.”

“And always have to sit there with a hard-on? No, thanks.” He chuckled and Jazz cupped his face in her hand.

“You know that I love you, do you?” she seriously asked.

“I know,” he confirmed and kissed her. And then he confirmed it again.