Tag: Liana Starling

The scent of smoke – Part 12

There was no grace period when Jazz woke up the next morning, no blissful temporary amnesia. She opened her eyes, found herself in her own bed, under her own blanket, without the man she had married.

The thought of calling in sick at work was tempting – Liana would surely understand after Jazz’s impressive display of being unwell the day before – but staying at home had lost its allure. She trudged into her bathroom; a long hot shower later she walked back out and got dressed. Routine had its perks, for example the lack of cognitive activity needed for it. Doing her makeup and hair took just enough time so she had to rush out without breakfast. She could get something on the way to the office, a coffee and maybe a sandwich. The migraine had vanished, just a dull pressure had settled in the back of her head, made its home there. For now she could ignore it, for later she might get painkillers. If only everything was so easily fixed.

On her tiptoes she sneaked to the apartment door; if Subaru was still at home he had made no sound so far, but better safe than sorry.

The weather didn’t match her heartbreak; blue skies, the sun was shining and the air was clean enough to see the skyline in the distance.

After the successful award event more work piled up on her desk so Jazz dove right in, ignored her personal phone in favor of answering the calls of potential clients and making orders for future events. When Liana came in to greet her Jazz had already diminished her to-do list by a couple of items.

“Hey, are you feeling better today?” She took a seat in front of Jazz’s desk, satisfied when her inspection showed no dark circles under Jazz’s eyes anymore.

“I slept a lot and now I’m ready to tackle this pile. And I’m really sorry for yesterday; this migraine came out of nowhere.” Jazz shuddered at the memory; she would never be able to set a foot into that store again.

“All’s well that ends well. Miss Osmond has a wonderful dress now, you had some sleep and I have a date tonight.”

This got Jazz’s attention, she leaned back in her chair and grinned.

“Is that so? Things are getting serious, huh? Good for you.”

“Hush, you are one to talk. Your husband came to pick you up yesterday because you weren’t well. That’s the level of intimacy and care I aspire.”

Jazz’s pen hit the desk, clattered and rolled down on the floor.

“You okay?” Liana’s brow furrowed but Jazz quickly picked her pen up and smiled.

“Yeah, sorry. Too much coffee. So are you going out for dinner?” Distraction, evasion, deflection – the holy trinity for people to change a topic and Jazz played all of them like finely tuned instruments.

“No, he’s coming over for dinner. I’m going to cook something and we are watching a movie afterwards.” A light blush stained Liana’s cheeks, she picked at the hem of her skirt and smoothed it down again.

“In that case, make sure you get out of the office in time. I bet it’s difficult enough to date someone who’s basically on call 24/7.” Seeing Liana happy like this cut deeply into Jazz’s wounded heart. She put on a brave mask and dropped her gaze on the papers in front of her again.

“Isn’t it the same with you and Ichiyanagi-san?” Liana got up, her fingertips brushed over the surface of the desk.

“I guess. And that’s how I know it can be difficult, so make the most of the time you have with Captain Ishigami.” Jazz found a typo in a proposal, marked it in bright red and kept reading.

“Maybe we should form a support group. ‘Dating a cop 101’ with you, Miho and me,” Liana joked and waved before she left.

Jazz stared at her phone. She could call Miho; her friend often held good advise when Jazz hit a wall. Only this time… Miho would kill Subaru. Maybe not literally, but she would not hold back her anger and disappointment. If Jazz wanted him humiliated and shunned in their social circle, this was the way to go. But as long as she hadn’t decided what to do, whether to fight for her marriage or give up, she couldn’t tell Miho. The risk of getting swept away by Miho’s temper scared her; if this marriage failed she didn’t want to blame herself for not trying everything in her might. For now, she would keep it a secret. With a sigh she returned to her paperwork, stared at the words until they blurred before her eyes.

 

Liana had long gone home when Jazz stepped out of the office building and closed her coat. Despite the sun all day temperatures dropped in the evening; typical late summer weather with chilly nights and mild days. Her gaze fixed on the pavement in front of her Jazz trudged towards the train station. She could get dinner on the way, something simple. Or maybe something fancy, a pick-me-up of sorts. Soul food. She craved the food of her home country, not the Japanese cuisine which only reminded her that she was still a guest here, a visitor. Would she be even able to stay once her marriage was over? Another thing she had to research; another point on her list to consider.

Back home she found the door locked and lights turned off; Subaru was not in the apartment, but there was a note and a pink rose waiting for Jazz. The note said: ‘Please allow me to explain tonight.’

She took it together with the rose into the kitchen, crammed both into Subaru’s ridiculously overpriced blender he had bragged about for months, and gave it a few spins. Childish, yes, spiteful even, but it made her lips curl up in the first genuine smile for two days.

With a cheese sandwich and a cup of tea she snuggled up on the couch, flipped through the channels until she was tired enough to go to bed. She didn’t even clean her dishes away, just locked the bedroom door and crawled into bed.

Later that night there was a series of soft knocks at the door but she refused to acknowledge them, just stared at the ceiling in the darkness until Subaru’s footsteps faded away in direction of the living room.

She kept the pattern up for another three days, sneaked out in the morning and locked herself into the bedroom at night. Subaru was still blocked on her phone and she threw out every note he left for her without ever replying. She was angry, hurt and confused and she showed him in every possible way without actually talking to him.

Whenever she thought of him, caught glimpses of mementos, whenever someone mentioned her husband her emotions boiled up until she felt sick.

 

“God, it’s been ages since we had a decent dinner together.” Miho browsed through the menu while Jazz stared at the same page for minutes.

“You want a starter? Or we could just order a bunch of dishes and split. Like a buffet.”

In contrast to Miho’s chatter Jazz only hummed; she lacked appetite the last few days. Eating wasn’t fun anymore, just a way to get energy.

“Are you still mad because I had no time the last few days?” Miho let the menu sink and frowned, waved for a waiter when Jazz stayed silent. She ordered several starters and a few main dishes, another drink and one for Jazz. Once the waiter nodded and left she turned her attention back to her friend.

“Subaru is the same at the moment. As if I’m keen on working with him.”

Jazz blinked, a crease between her eyebrows appeared as confusion furrowed her brows.

“You are working with him?”

“Yeah. Didn’t he tell you? I swear, he only does that to annoy me.” The dynamic between Miho and Subaru left lots of room for jabs and quips, but also for pranks and intentional neglect when it came to conveying messages to Jazz. “Turned out the attack on his golden boy had been executed with a gun from our target. Katsuragi thinks it’s a good idea to strengthen bonds between the departments and Ishigami agreed.”

Their drinks arrived and Miho took a sip, sighed in contentment and propped up her arms on the table as she leaned towards Jazz.

“So, what’s new in your life?”

Too many words rushed though Jazz’s head, got in the way of each other so she ended up shrugging.

“Work is crazy. The award show got really great reviews and now I’m swamped.”

“Oh yeah, I bet. Hey, was your stalker guy there, too?” The ice in her glass clinked as Miho swirled her drink.

“He’s not a stalker, I’m not a stalker, and yes, he had been there. Won first prize. Danced with me. Afterwards I made sure the event came to a good ending and went home – unstalked.”

The feeling of having forgotten something crept up on her, Jazz washed it down with a swig of her cocktail.

“Wait, wait, wait. Danced with you? How many times does this make? You dance awfully often with a guy who’s not your stalker but keeps running into you.” The more she drank, the louder Miho got.

“Can’t help it, you know I love to dance and he’s a great dancer. And he’s good at respecting my boundaries. Hasn’t even asked for my name yet, even less for anything more.” Another swig and Jazz’s glass was almost empty.

“Booooring.” At the arrival of their food Miho perked up, waited until the waiter was gone before she rearranged plates and bowls on the table.

“You are aware I’m still married,” Jazz pointed out. The food smelled incredible, its aroma wasted on her as she felt her throat tighten at the thought of eating.

“I am, your husband is sulking in my office all day long after all. I guess I’m seeing more of him than you do at the moment.” With nimble chopsticks Miho snatched bites here and there. “The good thing is, now I have someone for the grunt work. We are going to raid a ship soon, so there’s plenty of paperwork.”

The alcohol seeped into Jazz’s mind, muffled noises and pain. She nodded mechanically, zoned in and out of the conversation just enough so Miho didn’t get suspicious. At the end of the meal she had barely eaten.

“You wanna take the leftovers back home for Ichiyanagi?” Miho asked as they split the bill.

“No, bring them back for Goto. Tell him I said ‘hi’ and thanks for talking to Subaru.” Not that it had helped, but no one could have known.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Jazz focused on Miho and smiled. “Yeah, just – really, really tired. I feel like sleeping for a week straight.”

“Work, huh? Yeah, after this case I need a break, too. Maybe a long weekend somewhere. An onsen sounds good. Hey, about we go on a couples’ retreat? You, Ichiyanagi, Seiji and I?” With the paper bag filled with leftovers in her hand Miho marched towards the street, her free hand raised to hail a cab.

“So the guys can do whatever guys do while you and I get massages?” Jazz barked a laughter; they had done that once or twice. Fun times.

“If Ichiyanagi wasn’t so uptight I would be fine with you and I giving each other massages. But his level of jealousy is epic and I don’t want to ruin another vacation by having to listen to him ‘reminding you whom you belong to’.”

“It’s not as if you and Goto were exactly discreet,” Jazz grumbled, her stomach churning at the memory of that night, of Subaru all possessive and insatiable. Just because the barkeeper had flirted with her.

“True.” Miho opened the door and slid into the backseat of the cab, waited for Jazz to follow her before she told the driver the first address. “Hey, do you want to have dinner one of these days?”

“We just had dinner.” Jazz slumped into the cushions of the backseat, curled up so she could rest her head against the window. Tokyo at night was bright and lively, rushed past them fast enough for Jazz to get dizzy.

“I mean with the boys.”

The glass cooled Jazz’s forehead, fogged under her breath.

“Maybe once your case is solved. You don’t want to work with Subaru and also spend time with him afterwards.”

If even Miho couldn’t tell something was wrong, Jazz did a good job at acting normal. Whatever that was.

Sneaking around, avoiding the same person he couldn’t wait to see only a few days ago. Emptying her mind to not think about him, about them. This was her new normal. This was her life now.

Light spilled from the windows into the night; Jazz braced herself. Either to dash into the bedroom or to confront Subaru – both options were terrifying. She couldn’t keep this up forever, but wasn’t ready to face him yet.

“I could just leave,” she whispered, fingertips resting against the door. “Turn around and never come back.” To go back to her family, start a new life there. Europe was just a flight away.

Her keys jingled as she unlocked the door, pushed it open and stepped inside.

“I’m home,” she mumbled as she slipped out of her shoes. Subaru leaned against the doorframe to the living room, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Welcome back.”

The Scent of Smoke – Part 11

Time stood still. Until the clock’s numbers changed to 2:22 and Jazz inhaled deeply.

“Oh.” She pulled her hands back, his grip slackened further when she distanced herself. Wiped her hands on her nightgown.

“I’m so sorry, it wasn’t planned, it just-”

His stream of words were cut off by her raised hand. Jazz got up, like a mechanical doll she moved through the bedroom.

“I need – time to think.”

“Jazz, don’t go now. Let me explain.” Slumped on the bed he watched her shake her head softly. In her nightgown she only grabbed a coat and her purse, closed the door behind her.

Only in the cab that took her to a hotel nearby she noticed that she was still wearing slippers.

 

A few hours later Jazz sat at her desk again, dressed in her emergency dress and some cheap heels she had bought on her way to work. Japanese people were too polite to point out someone was going out in sleepwear. Besides, Jazz had other problems. She had blocked Subaru’s number on her phone, had told everyone in the office to tell him she wasn’t in if he called. Excused it with a surprise she was planning for him.

Her autopilot worked well enough to get some tasks done. Easy ones, like sending bills and comparing offers.

“Good morning!” Liana’s smile slipped when she looked at Jazz, still in the doorway of her office. “Are you sick?”

“No, just had a rough night.” And no makeup to cover the dark circles under her eyes.

“Should I go and get us some coffee? Cooling gel for your eyes? Concealer?”

“You spend too much time with Miho. You start sounding like her.”

Liana rummaged in her bag, just shrugged off Jazz’s quip and let out a triumphant ‘A-ha’ when she found a small tube.

“Might not be your color, but neither is what you’re sporting today. So, about that coffee…”

“Yes to coffee, thanks. And afterwards I want to hole up in my office.” For the rest of the day. For the rest of her life.

“You mean until noon?” Liana asked and checked her phone.

“Noon?”

“The appointment in the bridal store with Miss Osmond? We agreed on it weeks ago.”

Jazz’s eyes flitted to her planner. There it was, black ink on paper, in her own messy handwriting.

“Shit.” Jazz dropped her head on the desk, the cool wood hit her forehead with just enough force to leave a reddening spot. She sat up again, ran her hands over her face.

“Okay, yeah. I forgot about it, but no problem. Coffee first, afterwards I have to make some calls. At at noon we will meet Miss Osmond and will pick out her dress. Great. Yeah.”

“You are rambling, you know that?” Under Liana’s scrutiny Jazz calmed down, forced the restless energy back. The need to move, to stay occupied so she didn’t have to think.

“Sorry. I had a crazy night.”

“Did you drink?”

Her eyes were still red and with the sloppily styled hair, only a hint of make-up, she was surprised no one had asked sooner.

“I wish I had. But no, I was just – I didn’t sleep much. Migraine.” She made a face and rubbed her temples; it wasn’t even a lie. Her head felt as if her skull would burst any second now, thumbing in time with her heartbeat.

“Give me half an hour and I will look more human again.” If she could keep herself from crying for so long. Jazz closed her eyes, took a long breath. When she opened her eyes again she smiled. ”But coffee first. I go and get us some of the good stuff.”

She grabbed her purse, rushed out of the office and down the stairs. Kept moving. Standing still meant she had time to think and thinking led to wondering, to fretting. To crying.

On her way to the coffee shop she picked up some make-up, even considered getting some booze but scrapped the idea again. It was only 10 am, not the time to drink now. Subaru had taken too much from her already, she wouldn’t let him ruin her professionalism.

Caffeine helped and so did company. In front of Liana Jazz put on her polite smile and her work personality which left no room for insecurity and brooding.

Eyedrops, concealer and mascara did a good job in covering the effects of last night and when their appointment came around Jazz greeted Miss Osmond – “Please, call me Coline” – with a smile and heartfelt congratulations.

“This is not the biggest store for wedding apparel, but the best if you ask me. From traditional kimonos to princess bridal gowns you can get everything you want here.” A shop assistant was waiting for them, another round of greetings and congratulations later they browsed the shop on their own for a first impression.

“I always dreamed of a classical bridal gown. A huge puffy skirt and a tight lace up bodice. It’s still a dream from when I was a kid” Coline laughed, ran her fingertips over the beaded embroidery on a cream colored dress. “Not sure if that’s the best look for me, though.” She was slim, didn’t have that many curves to show off.

“A traditional kimono would look fantastic on you, but I imagine that a more fitted bridal gown would also be lovely.” Jazz pulled an off-white strapless lace gown from a rack, looked at it from all sides. “A nice belt, a veil, a pair of heels and your groom won’t know what hit him.”

“What kind of dress did you wear for your wedding?” Coline asked and nodded towards the dress. “I’ll try this.”

With a tight smile Jazz handed the dress over; a sales assistant took it to the changing rooms.

“I had a classical A-line gown. A bit of beading at the bodice, a couple of layers of chiffon over thick satin. Not too poofy, rather fitted with a flared skirt. If you can get a lace-up bodice, just in case your weight fluctuates a bit before the wedding. I had no train, I wanted it to be easy to dance in.” She swallowed thickly. “Sorry, I need a sip of water. The air’s so dry in here.” The pounding of her head increased with every minute and she had no painkillers in her purse. Rookie mistake.

“How about a glass of champagne?” the helpful sales assistant asked and rushed off after Coline nodded enthusiastically. The champagne was too tart, almost sharp to Jazz’s palate so she set her glass down after and conveniently forgot about it while the bride kept fretting over the countless options.

Liana stayed in the background mostly, it was her first dress shopping appointment and she watched and learned. Not that there was much to learn, the taste of the bride was the decisive factor in the end. A good wedding planner had just to make sure the bride stayed focused and on track, didn’t get lost in the sea of bling and ruffles. So Jazz steered Coline back to the dresses whenever she strayed and stared at shoes or accessories. After they had picked out six different dresses Coline vanished in the changing room, her chatter and laughter still audible outside where Jazz and Liana sat on a couch and waited for the fashion show.

“You are looking a bit better already.”

Jazz shrugged, forced her smile to stay light. “It’s like a hangover, only without drinking first. Distraction helps, as does the coffee. And hey, what could be better to cheer a girl up than a shopping trip?”

Shoes and dresses, a trusty combination to brighten her mood, only this time they failed to excite her. There was no running from what she had to accept, not even in brand new strappy heels.

“Yeah, great shopping trip.” Liana sighed and let her gaze wander over the rows and rows of wedding dresses. “A bride, a married woman and a divorced one go into a bridal salon… sounds like the beginning of a joke.”

“And not a funny one,” Jazz agreed.

The curtain moved, and in a vision of lace and organza Coline swaned out of the changing room.

“Now that’s a great start.” Nonetheless Jazz got up, draped a part of the skirt around the beaming bride and stepped back again.

“First of all, how do you feel?”

After a tiny shimmy Coline cocked her head to the side, exhaled deeply.

“It’s beautiful, but heavy. Like, dragging me down. Too many layers for me.”

A princess gown, a huge skirt with a fitted bodice, was the perfect dress to start with; from there the bride could see if she wanted more, up to a majestic Cinderella dress, or less.

“What about the color? Pure white or a bit of a darker shade?”

“As long as it’s not pink I can imagine a bit of color. But definitely less – of all of this.” Ruffles rustled when Coline picked up the skirt a few inches and let it drop again. “Oh, but a train would be nice. Not too much, just something extra.”

“How about that mermaid dress we found earlier?” Liana suggested. “The one with the rose embroidery.”

“Sure.” After a last glance into the huge mirror Coline disappeared behind the curtain, left Jazz and Liana to evaluate the first dress.

“She’s drowning in it.” Jazz plopped down on the couch, tipped her head back and rested it against the wall. “With such a small frame she needs something delicate. Light and classy.”

“Silk?”

“Silk. One single layer of lining max. Did we choose something like that?”

“We did. Let her try it after the mermaid one.” Liana checked her notes and nodded. “Should I go and look for some more simple dresses?”

Jazz hummed, eyes closed. The light and the sea of white dresses hurt her eyes, stabbed directly into her brain.

“Try to find one with sleeves. I think we don’t have a sleeved one.” Her brows were knitted tightly together, she breathed against a wave of dizziness.

“Jazz? You don’t look too well…” Liana’s voice traveled to her like through water. Jazz opened her eyes just in time to see Coline dance out of the changing room, small steps taking her closer to the small pedestal in front of the mirror.

“So much better,” she beamed, turned here and there before she stopped and watched her reflection. “What do you say?”

It was a mistake to sit up. The headache, the lack of sleep and the dizzy spell teamed up to drag Jazz down into an abyss of utter embarrassment. The bit of coffee she had for breakfast – and any other meal this day – churned in her stomach. She only managed to cover her mouth with a hand in time to jump up and flee towards the restrooms; throwing up in a bridal store was an expensive act, and one to kill a career.

“Okay, I guess she didn’t like it,” Coline mumbled, looked at Liana for clarification and maybe a feedback.

“I don’t think it’s the dress.” Liana stared in the direction Jazz had vanished to. “I am so sorry, but Miss Mann wasn’t feeling well all day already. Must be-” She searched for a good excuse, but came up empty handed and finished her sentence with a helpless shrug.

“Morning sickness?” Coline asked, sympathy in her eyes and voice. “My cousin was suffering greatly under hers.”

“I really can’t say.” With apologetic tilt of her head Liana turned back to face the bride-to-be. “But this dress looks lovely on you. Not the perfect one yet, though. How about you try the silk one next? A simple cut, no ruffles and frills; a clean silhouette. It makes the bride shine more on her own.” She ushered Coline back into the dressing room before she rushed after Jazz.

“I’m okay.” Her head rested against the tiled wall, her eyes were closed when Liana found her. “I just wish I could die right now. There’s no way I can go back in there.”

“Miss Osmond is actually rather understanding. You just have to pretend you’re pregnant.” Liana’s brow furrowed, she sat down next to Jazz. “It would be pretend, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh god, not you, too! Miho said something along those lines the other day and I already told her, no, I’m not pregnant.” ‘At least not as far as I know,’ flashed through her mind. That would be the icing on the cake, a baby with the husband who had cheated on her. A baby.

“Help me up, please. I need a sip of water and a peppermint.”

A month ago, maybe, or even a week her only concern would have been to prevent gossip, but now a new worry hit her hard enough to stumble on the way to the sink. What if not she was pregnant? What if Subaru had knocked the other woman up? Did they use protection? Did he sleep with Jazz after sleeping with her? Should she get tested for an STD? All the questions she had banned before assaulted her now, in the tiny restroom, bounced off the walls of her mind like an echo bounced off the tiles.

“Jazz?”

“Hm? Oh yeah, I’m much better, don’t worry.” The mirror showed her a less optimistic picture. Her glassy eyes were rimmed with smudged mascara; throwing up always left her looking like a mess. A few wipes with wet tissue replaced the black with red; it would fade with time.

“Okay, let’s make sure our client gets the perfect dress and afterwards I’m calling it a day.”  For the sake of the appointment Jazz forced herself to smile, apologized to Coline and the sales assistant. Asked them to keep it a secret from her bosses and made it sound as if she really was expecting without ever saying the words ‘pregnant’ or ‘baby’. She couldn’t afford rumours.

Solidarity between women was a blessing; in exchange Jazz didn’t rest until Coline stepped out of the changing room with a blinding smile and sparkling eyes.

“See? With such a simple dress it’s the bride that shines, not the designer or the bling on the robe.” Liana, visibly satisfied with the result of her latest search, nodded. “A veil?”

“No,” Coline objected, stared at her reflection. “This dress is perfect as it is.” Flowing silk, the top covered with delicate lace that formed sleeves down to her wrists and tapered out around her hips.

“Maybe some headband?” Jazz suggested, smiled at the sales assistant who fetched a small selection.

“Something floral and light.” She picked one with silver wires, small beads and flowers woven in created the illusion of a branch from a fairy tree. In contrast to Coline’s dark curls it shone in her hair, caught the light in the store and reflected it.

“That’s it,” Jazz concluded. “That’s your dress.”

“That’s my dress.” Light fingertips brushed over the fabric, smoothed it down until Coline was satisfied. “It has to get shortened a bit, but the train is exactly what I want.”

“Shoes and a purse and you’re good to go,” Liana agreed.

It took them some convincing for Coline to change back into her clothes and leave the dress behind for the alterations.

“Have you been this excited for your dress, too?” Jazz asked Liana on the way back to the office.

“Yes, I think so. Having the dress made it real. All the planning before felt so random, but the dress was when it sank in.”

Jazz hummed; she couldn’t remember at all. Not only her wedding preparations, all her happy memories seemed to have been wiped from her memories. Spending the day with a blissful bride only made the loss worse. The lack of joy, the lack of love.

“I’ll only get some documents from my office and leave afterwards,” she announced. Talking about trivial things gave her a reprieve, a moment she didn’t have to fake.

“Get some rest and get better.” They parted at the elevator; despite her weak condition Jazz opted for the stairs. The swaying of the elevator, the strange feeling of rising and pausing midair was too much of a challenge for her stomach. One step after the other she climbed the stairs, the physical strain clearing her mind of unwanted thoughts. Or any thoughts really.

For once there was no rush; after leaving the office she would have to go home without an idea where that should be. Telling Miho would make it real, like finding a dress made getting married real. But making it real would mean acknowledging and dealing with the situation. She didn’t have the strength for that. She had barely found the strength to talk to Subaru about his behavior and before she did, several days had passed while she fretted and pondered the right approach. Last night didn’t count as respite. Lying awake and crying wasn’t thinking after all. The next steps were clear. Finding a place to stay. Getting at least some of her clothes. Wallowing in self pity and ice cream. Adopting a bunch of cats and getting bitter.

“Drama queen,” she scolded herself on the last few stairs. After a couple of deep breaths she put on her smile again and made her way into her office. The receptionist waved at her; Jazz waved back and hurried towards her door. She wasn’t in the mood for a conversation or more work; whatever it was, it had to wait until she had least gotten rid of this splitting headache. Maybe she was actually sick? Terminally ill? A brain tumor, maybe. She would die within a short time and Subaru would be left behind, heartbroken he had treated his poor sick wife like this. Or maybe inwardly rejoicing because he could openly be with his new lover.

Deep in thought she opened her office door, stumbled inside and towards the couch.

“Do you have an idea how worried I was about you?”

Subaru’s voice made her jump, pressed all the buttons to make her feel guilty for his anger. He sat on the very couch she just wanted to rest on, his tie askew and his hair disheveled.

“What are you doing here?” she asked back and swallowed down the instinctive apology his question had triggered.

“I’m waiting for you. I called you over and over again, looked for you all over town.” He came closer, stopped right in front of her so Jazz had to look up a bit. Despite her heels he was taller; a fact she used to appreciate.

“I didn’t want to talk to you,” she cooly replied and sidestepped him on her way to her desk.

“You could at least have let me know you’re okay. I called the hospitals and police stations to see if you had gotten into an accident or-” He bit his tongue, let her fill in the rest.

“You think I would harm myself just because you had sex with another woman? I’m not that weak.” The desk was a barrier between them, one Jazz used to keep him away. She couldn’t think when he was close, her mask crumbled under his sad gaze.

“That’s not what I wanted to say. I was just worried about you. You went out in your pjs, didn’t answer your phone -”

“Did you call Miho?” she interrupted him, raised both eyebrows and jutted out her chin. A challenge he backed out from.

“No. I figured if you went to stay there and told her – well, told her why you were there, she wouldn’t give me a straight answer anyway. I asked Goto, though. If you were there or not.” He lingered on the other side of the desk, fingertips on the wood, turned halfway towards her and halfway facing the door. “So, where have you been?” He stared at his fingers, the contrast between his skin and the polished surface of the desk, scratched at a spot until he looked up and found her glaring at him.

“What? Are you afraid I paid you back in kind?” She snorted; this was not a conversation she felt up to. Not with her head in pain, and her heart heavy, still choking at the betrayal. “I would never do that to you. Never.”

Her bottom lip trembled, she bit down on it and looked up at the ceiling. “Can you just go now? Please?”

“Will you come home tonight?” His soft tone reminded her of whispered conversations, late at night, snuggled under one blanket. Of shared dreams and secrets.

“I can’t.” Short answers, the shorter the better. Less words she could trip over, less risk for a crying fit.

“I don’t mean you have to forgive me right on the spot, or at all. This isn’t about you coming back with me and we pretend it’s all okay. I just – Jazz, I want to know you are safe at least. You get the bedroom, and if you say I mustn’t bother you, I won’t. I promise. But last night-” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I was so scared something had happened to you.”

“I’m tired.” Jazz dropped her head and shook it slowly. “I try to think but I can’t. My head’s a mess, and all I want is my bed. My life back.” She lost the fight against the tears, allowed them to flow freely now. “Can you give me that? Can you give me back my peace? My happiness?”

When he wrapped his arms around her she didn’t struggle. His heartbeat was steady and familiar under her palm, her own fluttered like a bird trapped in a cage, strained against her ribcage and made her feel even sicker.

“Let’s go home,” he said once more. “And talk about it if you want. I would do anything to fix this, Jazz. Anything. I love you so much, I know I fucked up but I swear, if you let me, I will -”

She cried harder with each word he said, clung to him until his shirt was soaked and smudged with the rest of her makeup. Subaru held her until she ran out of tears, ran out of energy. He held her hand while he led her out of the office, towards their car – his car, she corrected herself – and helped her inside. He held her hand during the ride whenever he could, squeezed it at every red light. He only let go of her when she reached the bedroom door and closed it behind her.

Her bed was as she had left it, Jazz pulled the covers over head and fell asleep within seconds.

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 8

A week after Subaru left for his latest assignment Jazz only got the occasional text message, didn’t get hold of him via phone calls at all. Leaving messages on his mailbox felt strangely intrusive so she kept up her steady stream of short texts so he knew she was okay. Early in their relationship they had established a pattern, after one time when Jazz had forgotten her phone at home and couldn’t reply to Subaru’s texts for several hours. He had been furious, worried out of his mind although Jazz was safe and sound in her office all the time. Where he could have called her, as she had pointed out.

Ever since she sent him a text in the morning, one for lunch and one wishing him a good night after dinner. Sometimes he replied, sometimes he didn’t, but she kept her side of the bargain. It was enough if one of them worried about the other.

The approval of her superior marked the begin of the busy phase for her preparations; long days for Jazz and Liana turned more often than not into late nights.

Over a delivery of Chinese food they studied the museum’s blueprints and the pictures Jazz had taken at her first visit, discussed where to put the stage and bar.

“Most of the walls should be visible, there are a lot of stunning pictures after all,” Jazz pointed out and marked several spots on the blueprint.

“How about putting the stage over there? We don’t need windows at night anyway,” Liana suggested and Jazz took a marker in a different color, drew a rectangle in one corner.

“The bar should be on the opposite wall. Between bar and stage there’s enough space for chairs and bar tables.” Jazz let the marker drop onto the desk, ran her hands over her face.

“Okay, I think that’s it for today. I will go back there tomorrow and take some measurements, but my brain is mush and I’m so tired, I could fall asleep on the spot. Let’s finish our food and call it a day.”

“Thank goodness.” Liana breathed a sigh of relief, plopped down on a chair. “Is there fried rice left?”

They passed takeout boxes back and forth until they were full, chatted about this and that.

“Someone told me a certain captain was actually caught smiling lately,” Jazz remarked over  a sip of her tea.

“Is that so?” Liana managed a poker face for whole three seconds before a smile spread on her face.

“Ah, young love. I remember the thrill of it, the excitement,” Jazz said with a nod, acting wise and regal before she erupted in giggles. “I was scared to death the first time I met Ishigami. He’s got this air of authority and questioned my presence at the PD when I was there to pick Miho up one time. Thought he’d kick me out on the spot.”

“He’s not that scary,” Liana objected, a pout on her lips now instead of the soft smile. “He’s – dedicated to his job.”

“I know, I know. He’s one of the best cops in the PD, doesn’t play around, is really straight forward. He’s a great guy. Why do you think we introduced you to him?” Jazz batted her lashes, grinned into her cup.

“I hope you don’t expect me to be grateful. I didn’t ask you to set me up with anyone.” Liana was smiling again, snatched the last fried shrimp.

“Nope. I just expect you to be happy.” The waste bin filled with empty food boxes and Jazz wiped her hands with a napkin, turned off her computer and stretched her arms above her head.

“Okay, time to go home now. You wanna share a cab?”

“Yes, please. Let me grab my purse real quick.” Liana threw the last box into the trash, rushed out to get her belongings while Jazz turned off the lights in her office.

“Great. You can give me some details of your dates on the way home. I got some bets running and I’m eager to know if I won.”

 

After a quick text good night Jazz went to bed around midnight, without a reply from her husband all day.

 

“What if the logbook is fake?” Miho rubbed her eyes, staring at the screen and the tiny handwriting in the official documents of the SS Serendipity took its toll on her. Especially since this was already the second day.

“There is always a possibility,” Goto conceded, a map with several colored routes in front of him. “But it’s all we have right now. We just have to match the information with confirmed data we got from the authorities and other sources.”

“Fine.” Her eyes focused on her screen again, the transcripts of the relevant phone calls and conversations processed to handy snippets. “Hey, what about the tour to Colombia last April?”

One finger on the map Goto grunted.

“Was that a direct trip?”

“Looks like it. Why?”

Miho exhaled, leaned back in her chair. “So as I see it a trip like that should take around 30 days. This one took 40. And no word in the logbook of any complications. No repairs or anything.”

“A trip to South America with ten extra days that don’t appear in any documentation? Sounds suspicious.” He joined her, one hand on her shoulder while he compared the dates on screen with the copies of the logbook. “We better keep looking into this. See if there are more cases of extended tours.”

Her whine made him grin. “Not today anymore. Let’s call it a day, get some dinner and go home.”

His suggestion was met with a cheer. “Chicken nuggets?”

“If that’s what you want, sure.” A quick kiss on the top of her head and he went back to his desk, rolled up the map again.

Miho shut down her computer, locked the copies away and threw some documents into her bag.

“I’m good to go.”

Together they left the PD, stopped only to get food and headed back for their apartment to celebrate the new lead.

 

“Jazz! We got a problem!” Liana rushed into the office, found Jazz buried in paperwork, samples of napkins and tablecloths strewn all over the desk.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s the Osmond/Nomura wedding. The florist just called me to confirm the changes in our order.”

Jazz took the folder Liana handed her, browsed through the pages to check the color scheme and sketches.

“We didn’t order any changes.”

“No, we didn’t. Apparently the groom’s mother called every florist in Tokyo until she found the right one and canceled our order, replaced it with some ridiculous bouquets.”

Mothers, no matter if of grooms or brides, caused more troubles for wedding planners than any other force of nature.

“Did you revoke her changes?”

“Of course. But the point is, mommy dearest is meddling and it ruins my plans!” Tired lines rimmed Liana’s eyes, she took off her reading glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose where red imprints served as proof of the long day.

“Okay, here’s what you do. Check our other supplies. Call the baker, the photographer, musicians, everyone on our list. Agree on a codeword with them. Any changes in the plan require the codeword. Tell them it’s a new safety feature you have to follow, yada yada yada. Ask the bride if there is something the MIL can do. Something to involve her in the whole planning. Like – I don’t know, designing the menus or the place cards. Small enough so it won’t matter, big enough to make her feel important. If she messed it up, we got backup. If it shuts her up, good.”

The folder wandered back over the table to Liana.

“Okay. Yeah, yeah that could work. Thanks.”

“Don’t sweat it. It’s not the first time this happened. I had a mother of a groom once who showed up to the wedding in a bright white wedding dress.” Not having a mother in law also had its perks sometimes.

“Wow. That’s low. At least this one just caused a bit chaos and confusion.” Shaking her head Liana turned towards the door.

“You better get used to it. There will always be some problem. I never had a job without someone causing trouble. You are clever, you can figure out a solution that works for everyone.” All Jazz could offer was an encouraging smile and a nod before the ping of her phone informed her of breaking news.

“Oh look, someone fucked up on nationwide so the news are covering it.”

A flick of her thumb and she read the headlines. Froze and stared at her phone.

“Jazz? What is it?”

Liana came closer again, peeked over Jazz’s shoulder.

“Oh shit…”

“Attempted assassination on Fukuhara Jun.” 

With a whisper of the name of her husband Jazz dialed his number, trembled while the call connected. She dared not to breathe until the click told her he had picked up.

“Hi, this is Ichiyanagi. Leave a message after the beep.”

 

Miho picked up her phone after the third ring.

“Hey Jazz, what’s up?”

“You have to do me favor.” The words came rushed, clipped.

“Okay… what kind of favor?” Still at her desk Miho grabbed a pen to jot some details down.

“Use your contacts to find out if my husband is still alive.”

A shiver ran through Miho, forced her into an upright position. She motioned towards Goto, put her phone on speaker.

“What happened?”

“Not sure. Check the news, that’s all I know. Someone attacked Fukuhara, in the melee one person got shot. I can’t get Subaru on the phone. Miho, I can’t reach my husband!” Jazz’s voice reached a panicked pitch.

“Okay, calm down. If anything had happened to him his superior had called you already. I’m going to ask around, though.” Miho’s eyes flitted up to her own husband, a short nod and he took his phone, dialed and turned away. “Hey, take a deep breath. Getting all worked up now won’t do you any good.”

“Is this it? The moment I regret marrying a cop?” Sobs cut off Jazz’s words.

“Bullshit. You can regret marrying him because he’s a smug smartass. And you can tell him I said that because he’s going to come back home to you, you hear me?”

Goto was still talking on the phone, his back turned towards Miho. As a couple of cops they knew the risks, but awareness didn’t fend off the fear. The panic at night when the bed besides her was empty and cold when she woke up.

“Is there anyone with you? You’re not alone, are you?”

Between Jazz’s sobs and gulps of air Miho heard the name ‘Liana’.

“Good, let me talk to her.” Miho already packed her bag, turned off her computer with one hand, her phone in the other.

“Hey, Miho.” The cries grew softer when Liana took over the phone.

“Oh good, one not sobbing person. Okay, listen. Keep an eye on Jazz, tell her this isn’t unusual, that’s how things are during a mission and all. No need to worry. I’m coming over now. You are in the office?”

“Yes, and people start asking what’s wrong.” There was the sound of a closing door and Liana moving around.

“I’m there in ten minutes. Make her drink some water, don’t let her spiral into a full blown panic attack. Distract her somehow. Play 20 questions, I don’t care.”

Goto caught Miho’s attention, gesturing towards his phone and shaking his head. No news yet.

Miho ended the call, threw her phone into her bag.

“Take the car.” Goto offered her the keys, still on the phone.

“Thanks. Keep me up to date, will ya? Love you.” She snatched the keys and rushed off.

Just a normal day in the office.

 

 

The chatter in the event agency droned out Jazz’s thoughts. She clutched her phone tightly in both hands, knuckles white and the screen smeared with sweat.

“Miho says there’s no need to worry.” A glass of water in her hand Liana sat down next to Jazz on the couch, bumped her shoulder lightly. Would that be her one day if she kept seeing Ishigami? The constant worry, always in the back of her mind? And once something happened, the total meltdown? What a scary idea.

“I tried calling Katsuragi,” Jazz croaked, her voice hoarse and eyes red. “He doesn’t respond to my calls or texts either. No one I know is telling me what happened.”

“They are probably all busy dealing with the situation.” Again Liana offered the water to Jazz who took a sip and made a face.

“My mother warned me before the wedding. And I said: ‘Mom, Japan is one of the safest countries ever. They hardly have gun violence here, cops are still pretty respected.’ And he is a cop, somehow.” It had been a lie Jazz kept telling herself to not go crazy.

“Ignorance really is bliss sometimes.” She downed the rest of the water, stood up and paced the floor.

“A minute ago you still complained that you didn’t get any information and now you miss ignorance?”

“Hey, I’m Schrodinger’s widow right now, I don’t have to make sense.” With a sniffle she plopped back down on the couch.

“You shouldn’t say that,” Liana softly chided her. “Ichiyanagi sure is fine.”

“If he is and comes back and has no good explanation for putting me through this hell he won’t be fine any longer. Honestly, is it too much to send a stupid text to your wife to let her know you didn’t die in a stupid shooting?”

The door flew open, made both women flinch, but it Miho storming in.

“Hey, how are things over here?” Breathless she took two strides, opened her arms for Jazz to throw herself in.

“We are at stage rage,” Liana informed Miho, leaned back on the couch.

“That was quick.”

“You know I’m not a woman of patience.” Jazz voice was muffled, her face pressed against Miho’s shoulder. “So don’t make me wait. Did you find something out?” She took a step back and crossed her arms in front of her chest, stared at Miho.

“Yeah, Seiji managed to get hold of someone who could at least tell us it’s not Ichiyanagi who got shot.”

“Oh, thank god.” Relief made her knees weak, forced Jazz on the floor.

“Fukuhara is also unharmed. But – someone else from the squad caught a bullet.” Taking a seat next to Jazz on the floor Miho sighed. “It’s looking bad.”

“Wow… my first thought just was: ‘at least it’s not Subaru’. I’m an awful person.” Jazz took the tissue Miho offered her, wiped her nose and sniffled. “How bad?”

“Not sure. Next 24 hours will show.”

A round of fresh tears welled up in Jazz’s eyes.

“Fuck. Do you know who it is?”

“Not yet. All I know it’s not your husband.”

Wordlessly they stayed huddled together on the floor, with Liana observing them from the couch, supplying them with fresh tissues from time to time.

 

Jazz left work early that day, restless to the point of bouncing around. No word from Subaru yet, but Katsuragi called back, confirming what Miho had already found out. He also apologized for not informing Jazz sooner but with the first rush of panic subsided she was generous, told him not to worry about it.

Now that night had come Jazz couldn’t sleep. Not the absence of Subaru kept her from finding peace of mind, she was used to that by now. But he still hadn’t called and until she had talked to him she wouldn’t be fully convinced he was unharmed.

Miho had offered for Jazz to stay the night with her and Goto but Jazz missed the comfort of her own home, where she still had shirts with Subaru’s scent.

Wrapped up in one of those she lay in their bed, stared at the ceiling above. It needed a paintjob. Maybe not white this time. Some cream color perhaps.

The ringing of her phone made her jump.

“Subaru?!”

“Hey, Jazz, I’m so sorry…”

“God, babe, I was worried sick! Are you okay?” She was wide awake again, sat up in the dark.

“Yeah, I’m – Jazz, things were crazy and I – whoa.” He chuckled, mumbled something.

“Are you drunk?” In their whole relationship she had only seen him drunk twice.

“Maybe a bit. Saw that you called.”

26 times. Plus around 50 text messages.

Bed springs creaked, the rustling of fabric was audible.

“You had a hard day, go to sleep, babe. I’m glad you didn’t get harmed. But next time, call me as soon as possible, okay? I never want to feel like this again.”

He hummed, groaned when the bed creaked again.

“Okay, I see that talking to you is not working right now. Hang up, drink some water and sleep it off. I love you.”

He mumbled something she couldn’t understand, probably a ‘love you, too’ before the line went dead.

That night Jazz didn’t sleep at all. But at least she didn’t cry anymore.

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.”

MJS Wedding: Ishigami x Liana (with some past Jazz x Katsuragi smut)

Jazz checked the last details to make sure that everything was taken care of. The flowers, the caterer, the band. Check, check, check. The guests were already waiting and the priest had just arrived. Showtime.

She quickly made her way over to the groom’s room and knocked. Goto opened the door.

“It’s time,” she said with a smile and nodded towards the door. “Get into position already.” He smiled slightly and left.

“Ishigami-san? Are you ready?”

She approached the groom, waited for his unspoken approval to fix his tie and the boutonniere.

“Congratulation, Ishigami-san. Your bride is a wonderful woman and I’m sure you will be very happy together.”

“Thank you,” he earnestly replied.

“But you better get going now, I’m going to get Liana next. Only five more minutes and you will be wed.”

She waited until he took a deep breath and nodded firmly.

“I am ready.”

It was good that there was no awkwardness between them, they both knew that whatever had happened between them had been part of a business, although it had been fun after all. Well, the act itself had been fun, the way leading there not that much. Ishigami-san had been the most difficult client in Jazz’s career but now he was happy and would marry the woman Jazz had found for him. All’s well that ends well, right?

After making sure that the groom was on his way Jazz hurried over to the bride’s room. She knocked again and when the door was opened she slipped inside, handed the bridesmaid a bouquet, and shooed Kurosawa out who was busy taking pictures of the bride in the last moments before the wedding.

“Liana? Your groom is waiting,” Jazz finally announced and the bride beamed at her.

“It’s really happening, isn’t it?” Jazz was slightly touched by how nervous the bride seemed. She had gotten to know her as a reasonable, not overly emotional woman so seeing her like this gave Jazz the good feeling that she really had matched up the right people.

“It is. He is looking very handsome and you are stunningly beautiful. I really hope that you will always be looking forward to seeing each other like you are in this moment. Congratulations and all the luck in the world to the both of you.”

Liana swallowed once and suddenly chuckled, a bit teary-eyed.

“Don’t ruin my makeup now, I can’t cry before he has seen me at least.”

Jazz smiled and handed the bride a tissue. Liana took a deep breath, grabbed her bouquet and nodded.

“I am ready.”

Yes, they were really a good match.

The ceremony went on without a hitch. The guests ‘ahh’ed and ‘ohh’ed at the bride’s entrance, the groom was visibly moved by her appearance and the bride was glowing, smiling all the time. It was perfect.

Their vows were simple but heartfelt, assuring each other of eternal support and trust. Ishigami was a bit nervous when it came to sliding the wedding band on Liana’s finger but he managed and for a moment it looked as if he would kiss her finger, but he held back. Probably because of their audience. But he was looking very relieved when the priest announced them husband and wife and this time, there was a kiss. Chaste but sweet and both blushed lightly. Very cute.

This was definitely the most emotional Jazz had seen Ishigami and considering what she heard from Goto and Subaru, she wasn’t the only one surprised at how visible touched the usually stony-faced detective was. Liana did have a softening effect on him.

When the first glasses of champagne were passed around Jazz slowly relaxed. The most important part was over, they were actually married. Whatever could go wrong now would be unpleasant but couldn’t change the fact anymore that Liana and Ishigami-san were newlyweds.

Jazz quickly checked on the serving staff and the caterer but they told her everything was fine. Of course Jazz wouldn’t drink at a day like this, she was on a job after all. But she got a glass of ginger ale that at least looked a bit like champagne and watched the guests and the bridal couple. She also watched Miho and Goto who were standing together, chatting and drinking with as much of physical contact they could get away with in this setting. Jazz knew that Miho was practically shameless but also that Ishigami was Goto’s boss and she was proud that Miho seemed to hold back. At least for now. What would happen when she had some more drinks was unpredictable.

“They are next, huh?”

Jazz slightly flinched, she hadn’t expected for anyone to talk to her.

“They are. What about you?” She turned to face Subaru who simply shrugged.

“MJS couldn’t match me up with someone suitable after all,” he casually said and took a sip of champagne.

“You mean you didn’t really give anyone else a chance,” Jazz shot back and he shrugged.

“Maybe I’m not the kind of guy that can be set up with someone easily.”

“Maybe we wouldn’t want our clients to have to deal with you all their life,” she said with a sweet smile.

“You are one to talk,” he grumbled but Jazz laughed happily.

“I am. After all I already am married.” He raised both eyebrows, surprised at her announcement.

“I mean I was. I already was married,” she quickly corrected herself. Dammit! Being Kunihiko’s wife felt so natural and right that she sometimes forgot to keep it a secret for now.

“You were. Well, well, the fact that you aren’t anymore doesn’t surprise me. I bet he got fed up with your talking back to him all the time.” His smug grin made her roll her eyes.

“No. He simply got fed up with lying to me about not being gay.” She shot him a challenging glare but he seemed to understand that this wasn’t something to joke about.

“Oh. Well… by the way, the flowers are great.” Subaru motioned towards a flower arrangement, a wordless olive branch of peace.

“Thank you. Haruka Utsunomiya made them.” She could tell by his expression that he actually was impressed, at least for second.

“What? Did you sleep with him, too? Isn’t he a bit young for you?” A very short second indeed.

“With whom I sleep or not shouldn’t concern you, but no. He’s an old friend of Kunihiko.” Jazz looked back at Miho and Goto who looked happy and relaxed, something that had been rare lately, while they chatted with Ishigami and Liana.

“Thank you. For taking care of her,” Jazz quietly said. It wasn’t easy for her to say something nice to Subaru but she was really grateful that he had made sure that Miho was safe. He tilted his head slightly and accepted her thanks graciously.

“Couldn’t let him lose another one,” he muttered and downed his champagne.

“Hello, everyone! Welcome here today! Who would have thought that we would ever celebrate the wedding of Ishigami one day?” a cheerful voice suddenly boomed through the speakers.

“Oh god, who gave that fool a mic?” Subaru muttered and Jazz jumped into action, ready to give the sound guy a sign to cut Kurosawa off if necessary.

“But I hardly know anyone who deserves this as much as Ishigami-san. He is a very dedicated boss and seeing him happy like this since he met Liana gave me hope that I, too, will one day find the love of my life.”

That earned some giggles and “awww”s alike. For now Jazz simply let Kurosawa talk, it was rather cute after all.

“But I guess I’m talking for everyone here today when I wish the bridal couple all the luck and love in the world. And demand a repeat performance of the wedding kiss!”

The crowd cheered, the call for a kiss quickly wandering from mouth to mouth. “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

Jazz rolled her eyes and gave the soundman a sign to take the mic back.

Ishigami frowned slightly but when he looked at his bride – no, his wife – a small smile played on his lips. He leaned in a bit and placed a soft kiss on her forehead just for Liana to pull him down again when he pulled back, pressing her lips against his. The guests cheered loudly and Jazz laughed with them. It was cute to see Ishigami blush lightly and Liana grin happily.

She excused herself to Subaru and made another round through the venue, making sure that everything was alright. The cake should be next and after that, the first dance. Later dinner and the party. Her job would be done when bride and groom left for the honeymoon.

She was deep in thought when she thought she saw a familiar face. For a second she froze but then relaxed. No, that couldn’t be. One of the caterer’s staff demanded her attention and Jazz forgot what she had been thinking about.

The cake was a huge success. Of course there was no childish smearing of cake into each other’s faces with Ishigami but Jazz noticed the way his eyes lit up when he got a first taste of it. Obviously Liana had picked the right flavor.

It was strange, although there wasn’t the usual exuberant display of love at a wedding there was a very touching, deep, almost serene connection between bride and groom that made not only Jazz a bit jealous, but only for a moment. After all she was happy in love, too.

When it was time for the speeches Jazz looked for Goto. Hadn’t he been here a minute or five ago? With Miho? A strange sense of foreboding washed over her. Miho wouldn’t actually do that, would she? Drag him off at the wedding of his superior to make out somewhere? Maybe even more? Hell yeah, she would.

She needed help to track them down and she knew it. Jazz looked for Subaru, hoping he had seen them sneak out or at least would help her, maybe check the men’s restroom.

She found him chatting with a group of men and politely cleared her throat to get his attention. Subaru turned to face her and she just wanted to ask him to help her search for Miho and Goto when she noticed one of the men standing there with Subaru.

“Jazz?”

“Daichi?”

Suddenly Jazz had the attention of all of those men, the short blonde one, the one that looked slightly familiar, a dark haired one. And of course of Subaru and Daichi.

“’Daichi’?” the smaller one asked but Jazz didn’t even react.

“Uhm, sorry, I am… I can’t find Goto, his speech is next,” she stammered, slightly taken aback by this sudden reunion with an old flame. This was awkward.

“We can help you look for them,” Subaru offered but Jazz quickly shook her head.

“Knowing Miho it would be better if not ALL of us went, if you catch my drift.” She made a face and Subaru snorted a laugh.

“Yeah, I get it. Okay. I check the groom’s room and the men’s restroom.” Subaru nodded and Jazz smiled slightly at him. At least he was getting what she wanted from him without her having to actually ask. She would check the women’s restroom and the whole staff area. With a quick smile she apologized to the other men and shot Katsuragi an apologetic look before she rushed off, hoping she wouldn’t find Miho and Goto in a situation that would scar her for life. Again.

After Goto finally had held his speech – still a bit flushed and slightly disheveled – Jazz wanted to yell at Miho and laugh at the same time. She had to admit, it had been funny. At least a bit. And she liked seeing Miho happy and as long as no one else had noticed she didn’t care that her best friend had a quickie with her fiancé at the wedding of his superior.

Jazz sighed. She could use a drink but she was still on the clock. And somewhere in the crowd was a man that had broken her heart once.

Jazz was relieved when the band started playing the song for the first dance of the bridal couple. After a long discussion they had agreed on “The look of love” by Diana Krall. It was a very good song, slow and with wonderful lyrics.

Liana beamed at Ishigami when he led her to the dance floor; they just couldn’t take their eyes off each other. They swayed in each other’s arms, completely enthralled and in their own world.

“Jazz?” She knew who it was before she even raised her gaze.

“Daichi.” She simply acknowledged him with a small nod.

“Can we – talk?”

She took a deep breath.

“I am working, Daichi. I’m sure you know what that means.” She knew she was being childish but she couldn’t help it. He had hurt her back then, had cancelled their dates too often, had left whenever a call came. She had spent too many nights alone although he had promised her he would be there. All for his work.

“Then maybe when you’re finished?” There was hope in his voice but she wanted to shoot him down on the spot.

“No. When I’m finished here I will go home – to my husband.” She directly looked at him. “I wanted to talk after your trip to Moscow. I waited for you for almost eight hours. And when you finally came? What did you say?”

The guilt in his face wrenched her heart but she couldn’t back down now. “What did you say, Daichi?”

“Not now, I’m too tired to talk,” he repeated his words from back then.

“I have waited eight hours in a fucking coffee shop!” she hissed at him. “And instead of calling me and sending me home you kept sending me texts that you would be there soon. Eight fucking hours, Daichi.” With a last glare she turned back around to watch the last few seconds of the dance.

The guests clapped politely and so did Jazz, a strained smile on her face. The band started the next song and Jazz weaved through the forming couples that crowded the dance floor now that the bridal couple had their moment in the spotlight. She knew he was following her but she didn’t care, she was too angry. Still. She was still too angry and that angered her even more. She had thought she was over him, hell, she had thought she was over him when she met Ai some time later. Funny, but without Daichi treating her like a backup plan of sorts she would never have fallen for Ai. Now she could see that, of course, but back then she thought that Ai was really the perfect match for her. Just because he actually called when he promised. She had pretty low standards back then. Pathetic.

Jazz quickly gave some orders to the barkeepers and the waiting staff, rushed off towards the kitchen to check everything there and when she came back to the party 15 minutes later Daichi was nowhere to be seen. Good. She had no time for that now.

Dinner went well and afterwards there was more music, more drinking. The bride and groom left for their honeymoon but the guests stayed and celebrated on without them. Who needed a bridal couple at a wedding anyway?

But Jazz didn’t care, she was happy that the wedding has been a success. That Ishigami and Liana enjoyed this day and would remember it fondly their whole life.

And now was the time she actually considered getting a drink. But of course Subaru had to come between her and her hard earned champagne; he actually asked her for a dance. Reluctantly Jazz agreed, mostly because she loved to dance and Subaru actually looked as if he knew what he was doing.

“So, you and Katsuragi, huh?” he asked after the first few steps.

“Just. Stop. Okay? I really don’t want to talk about it.” It had been a long day, lots of little catastrophes she had to take care of without anyone noticing, plus meeting her former lover – that was just too much.

“Hey, I’m just curious. I mean, he’s my boss and I didn’t even know he was dating someone.” Subaru twirled her once and pulled her back close. He was really a good dancer.

“And that’s part of the problem,” she admitted, so tired of all this that she actually considered resting her forehead against his shoulder. But this was Subaru and she wouldn’t show any weakness in front of him.

“What do you mean?” She could hear the frown more than she could actually see it from her angle.

“Well, we were dating back then, but we – he wasn’t really committed. Only called when it crossed his mind. Always put work first. I know that his job – your job – is important and dangerous, that you have to be dedicated and ready to do whatever is necessary to protect your client. It’s a hard job and not everyone could do it. I understand that.” She exhaled and bit her lip briefly.

“But I am not the kind of woman who is happy on the backseat,” she muttered.

“No? I would have bet you enjoy a backseat every now and then,” Subaru quipped just for Jazz to slap his arm once.

“You know what I mean. I’m not a stopgap, I’m not only second best. And that’s exactly what he made me feel.”

“Huh. Wouldn’t have guessed he’s like that,” Subaru muttered and Jazz shrugged.

“Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. If he meets the right one I’m sure he would make it work somehow.” But she could still be sad that she hadn’t been the one after all.

“Mind if I cut in?” Katsuragi suddenly ask, standing next to them.

“No,” Subaru answered the same moment Jazz said: “Yes.” There was a brief moment of confusion but in the end Katsuragi gave Subaru a stern look that weighed more than Jazz’s glare. He was Subaru’s boss after all.

“You are looking stunning,” he awkwardly said and took Jazz hand. She only tensed for a split second before she gave in and let him pull her closer, one hand in the small of her back.

“I know.” She couldn’t help being miffed, there was nothing he could say to make things right again.

“You never took my calls.”

“There was nothing left to say after all. I thought I’d save us both the time and the embarrassment.”  She couldn’t look at him. She still remembered how she had rushed out of that stupid coffee shop, how she had gone home and packed the few things he had left at her place and sent them back to him, adding a note with a list of her stuff and the instructions how to send them back to her. She didn’t even want to talk to him again.

“I tried to explain,” he defended his actions but Jazz only snorted once.

“You did, but that didn’t change anything. You stood me up too many times, you ditched me too many times. Just saying there was a problem at work doesn’t change that.”

They had never really fit together, it was mostly a physical attraction. Jazz had to admit, the spark was still there. He really was a hunk after all, tall and with broad shoulders. That had attracted Jazz back then. She had felt safe in his arms.

And now? Her body betrayed her, molded perfectly against his, remembered every touch.

“We have danced to this song before,” he suddenly muttered and Jazz felt like crying.

“I remember.” She really did.

Daichi had taken her out to dinner. It was some kind of celebration, Jazz had successfully finished a very important event and he wanted to spoil her a bit for it. And apologize because he had to cancel the last two or three dates they had planned. But this night they had dressed up a bit and he took her to a wonderful, very intimate restaurant. Champagne, dinner, dancing.

It was a perfect date, a perfect night. Jazz had just the right level of tipsiness to feel both bold and relaxed with him. They were dating for a couple of weeks already and the sex was – unf, it was just incredible. Although he was so strong, with these big hands, and Jazz was rather small he always treated her gently, carefully, until she ordered him to be rougher. Sometimes she was afraid they would break the bed.

But he held her as if she was made of glass when they danced.

They were already kissing and touching on the way back to her place, building the passion and desire, and Jazz just knew this was one of those nights when they wouldn’t even make it back to the bedroom. When the door was closed behind them Daichi pushed her against it, dress hiked up so he could grab her thigh and wrap it around his waist, pinning her against the wooden surface with his body.

“I missed you so much while I was in Singapore,” he muttered and Jazz was already fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. She loved his chest, loved to run her fingers over the firm planes of it, the bit of chest hair and old scars. So manly. So sexy.

“Missed you, too,” she breathed against his skin, moaning when he pushed his hips against hers, letting her feel his state of arousal.

“Dammit, Daichi! Stop talking, get naked already!”

They both knew they wouldn’t even manage to undress completely, just tugging and pushing at clothes until they were bare enough. Lips and fingertips greedily explored every bit of naked skin in reach, Jazz’s hands quickly opened his belt and pants. She pushed one hand under the waistband of his boxer briefs, curled her fingers around his cock, reveling in its hardness and girth. Good thing everything was proportional to his huge build.

When he impatiently pushed two fingers into her core she yelped and tightened her grip only for him to groan and buck his hips. With her free hand she managed to reach into the inside pocket of his jacket and grabbed the condom she knew he had there. He always had one when they met.

She ripped the foil open with her teeth and he only stopped circling her clit with his thumb for long enough so she could get the condom in place before he hoisted her up a bit – showing off his strength, knowing it turned her on like hell – and held her place with one hand under her ass, the other guiding his cock into her.

With a low hiss Jazz welcomed the slight burn, the stretch, urged him on to move with an impatient roll of her hips. Daichi needed a moment to shift, to find foothold before he could grab both her hips and slowly pull back just to slam back into her, making her cry out. Jazz clung to him, arms wrapped around his shoulders, face buried in the crook of his neck, biting down to muffle her moans.

It was rough, it was quick, it was loud and oh so satisfying. Her back hurt, her head spun, she had lost her shoes and was fairly certain that her dress was ripped, but she didn’t care. Jazz loved it when he was like this, demanding, taking, using his height and strength to keep her in place while he fucked her mercilessly. Later there would be cuddles and kisses, he would examine every mark, every little bruise he had caused on her body and kiss them all better, but now all she wanted was this. Raw desire.

He growled against her neck and sucked a mark into her skin and Jazz gasped, grabbed the hair at the back of his head and yanked him back, just enough so she could kiss him. She lightly bit down on his bottom lip and giggled when he hissed but her laughter turned into moans when he slammed into her harder, punishing her for her teasing.

“You’re… a little… minx…” he grunted between thrusts and Jazz only laughed, spurred him on to be even rougher. Her legs around his waist were already trembling, the tension in her body almost too much to take but she just wasn’t quite there yet. So she carefully slid one hand from his back between their bodies, making him groan when he realized what she was doing. It took only a bit of pressure, one, two circles of her fingertips around her clit to send her over the edge, to make her cry out and cling to him, shuddering in his arms. When she came down from her high he kissed her gently, still panting, and with a short start he hoisted her up, holding her whole weight now to carry her over to her bed. This time they undressed properly and he took his time, lots of kisses and touches and whispered words of affection while he made love to her now.

And in the end Jazz fell asleep in his arm, really hoping this could work out.

It didn’t. The next morning Jazz woke up to a note on the pillow next to her, simply saying: “Work emergency.”

Lust and physical attraction simply weren’t enough to build a relationship on it and Jazz had to accept that Daichi would always pick his work over her. She had to put an end to whatever they were having before she fell even further for him. And after that coffee shop disaster it was surprisingly easy.

“You are divorced.” Daichi’s words pulled her from her thoughts. “I asked Subaru about it.”

“I am.” There was no use in denying or hiding the truth.

“You said you were married,” he pointed out.

“Again, I am. I got divorced and now I’m married to someone else. Subaru doesn’t know everything about me.” Jazz started feeling uncomfortable in his arms, a place she used to love. She looked around, feeling a bit guilty that her mind had flashed back to this particular memory.

“I thought you had left the country by now.”

Was that it? The reason he had held back? Had he been hesitating because he knew she would leave eventually? They had never talked about it, but they had never talked much at all.

“As you can see I’m still here.”

“Working as a wedding planner?” He readjusted his grip on her hand a bit, his big hand enveloping hers.

“It’s not that far from event planning and actually I enjoy it very much.” Just not this moment.

“And you’re doing a great job. Ishigami was full of praise.”

It was so much harder not to cry when he was sweet like this. Jazz shouldn’t feel like this, she shouldn’t be sorry for this lost chance when she was happy with Kunihiko. She shouldn’t wonder how things could have been when her life now was so wonderful.

“Mind if I cut in?”

Daichi was a bit puzzled when Miho suddenly stood next to them.

“You want to dance with me?” The crease between his brows showed his confusion and Jazz had to laugh.

“No, I want to dance with her. If you excuse us,” Miho boldly said and grabbed Jazz’s hand, pulled her closer and started to dance.

“Lemme guess, you want to lead?” Jazz asked, somewhere between laughing and crying.

“Shut up, I have to focus here,” Miho snapped back, but Jazz knew that Miho came to rescue her.

“But don’t even think you can drag me off somewhere like Goto. You have to get me a drink first.” Jazz was really grateful for having friends, especially in situations like these. She rested her forehead against Miho’s shoulder and giggled.

“You sound as if you’re already drunk,” Miho grumbled. “So, you’re going to tell me the story about you and that hunk?”

“Later maybe. Now I just want to enjoy this dance.” She earned herself a slap on the ass from Miho but kept giggling.

“Huh. Now that’s quite a sight,” Subaru muttered and grabbed his phone, trying to take a picture of Miho and Jazz on the dance floor. Goto’s simply reached out and took the phone, shook his head and sighed.

“I think we’ve had quiet enough photos, don’t you?”

“Come on, don’t tell me this isn’t hot. Hey, you think they ever…?” Subaru raised an eyebrow and motioned towards the dancing women.

“No.” Goto’s face gave nothing away until the corners of his mouth twitched lightly. He didn’t have to think. He knew.

It was way after midnight when Jazz silently sneaked into the bedroom, tired but over all pretty satisfied with her work that day. She carefully slid under the covers only to feel an arm wrapping around her.

“Hey,” Kunihiko greeted her sleepily.

“Hey. Go back to sleep.” She snuggled closer and sighed in contentment. These were the arms she belonged in.

“How was the wedding?” He nuzzled her neck and a wave of love for him washed over her.

“Chaotic. Hectic. Beautiful. The bridal couple was very happy in the end and that’s all that matters.”

“Good… I knew you would make it a success…” He was already drifting off but Jazz wouldn’t want it any other way. He needed his sleep, after all he had a busy and tiring job, too. And she was more than ready to close her eyes, too.

“Good night. I love you.”

“Love you, too…” he mumbled and was asleep again.

Yes, this was where she belonged. This was home.