The first couple of days had been rather pleasant and hilarious. At least for Ryoka, they had been. The third day was already drawing to a close, but she still felt a little restless. She had a lot on her mind, and she couldn't really sort it out, properly. She knew part of her mind was on Ichikage. She wouldn't deny that there was a sort of attraction she had to him, but she wasn't a child. She knew it wouldn't amount to anything. It was, to her, similar to a hero complex.
He'd basically saved Satoru and herself from whatever fate they had, and had given them a place to stay. More importantly, she'd earned her job as his bodyguard. She was putting it down that whatever crush, or infatuation she had for him was just that. It would sort itself out, eventually, and she resigned herself to it. She pursed her lips together, running a hand through her hair to smooth it out. She wondered if Mika felt the same about Kiyoshi, though.
That day on the beach, when they were building sandcastles, Ryoka had seen it. The way Kiyoshi had leaned in, the way they were both fixated on each other for that brief moment. She'd been upset when the moment was ruined by that damn volley ball. A small grin pulled at her lips. There was one way to find out, and Ryoka knew that Mika could use a bit of a break. Polar opposites they might have been, but at the current moment, Ryoka knew they were kindred spirits.
With that in mind, she made her way to her drawer, pulling out a pair a dark gray, wrap blouse. It was sleeveless, pefect for the warm weather, and fitting enough for the scene she had in mind. The black pants that accompanied the shirt, were ones Mika had picked out during one of their shopping days. She appreciated Mika's sense of fashion, considering Ryoka had none of her own. That wasn't to say she dressed badly. She often had Satoru help out, so she wasn't completely hopeless.
Once she was properly dressed, hair pulled back into a tail, she made her way to the room Kiyoshi and Mika shared. She almost snickered to herself for that. Forcing the laugh down, she took a breath, and knocked on the door. She already knew who would answer first.
She wasn't wrong; Mika pulled open the door promptly afterwards, a slight flicker of purplish light fading from her eyes until they were back to their usual gunmetal grey. She wasn't quite dressed for the outing Ryoka had in mind, but that could presumably be fixed if she agreed to go.
"Ryoka-san. Come in." Obviously much too polite to leave her standing out in the hallway, Mika stepped aside, admitting her to the room she and Kiyoshi shared. It was of course ridiculously-neat and well organized, even if it was abundantly clear which side of it was Mika's and which side was Kiyoshi's.
"Is there something we can do for you?"
“Hm, not particularly, no," she responded, stepping to the side. Kiyoshi was currently sitting in the corner on one of the chairs, a book in hand. He glanced up and tilted his head. It was, in some ways, adorable when he did that. She wondered how Mika was able to remain so calm when he did that. The quizzical look on his face caused Ryoka to chuckle, though.
“But there is something I might be able to do for you," she stated, watching Kiyoshi's brow arch a little higher. “I want you to go with me to the local bar just down the street. You could use a bit of a break from sandface over there," she spoke, nodding her head in Kiyoshi's direction. He gave Ryoka a flat look, but seemed curious enough that he spoke.
“You should go, Mika-chan. I will be fine here with otō-sama while you are out."
Mika hesitated for a moment, pursing her lips. After a glance at Kiyoshi, though, she sighed quietly through her nose. "Very well," she said quietly. "Give me five minutes to get dressed."
Retrieving a suitcase from under her bed, Mika shifted around a few of the articles inside before moving to the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. As promised, it took her only about five minutes before she reemerged, hair let down around her shoulders and dressed somewhat more appropriately for the bar: white lace and denim shorts, sheer black tights, tall heeled ankle boots, and a deep purple blouse, fitted neatly to her figure but cast off at the shoulders, the sleeves only about two inches long. She slipped her phone into one pocket of the shorts, and her sunglasses onto her face.
"Shall we?"
“Let's." She'd expected a little resistance, honestly. She wasn't going to complain, though, since she'd achieved her desired result. Ryoka smiled at Mika and nodded her head, stepping out of the room and to the side allowing Mika to follow her. The bar she had in mind was a few blocks away from the hotel, and considering the reviews and the liveliness of the place, she could speak with Mika without any real eavesdropping. Ichikage and Kiyoshi were both daiyōkai, and their hearing was exceptional. She didn't have to be a genius to know that, but the talk she wanted with Mika was confidential.
At least she wanted it to be.
“It'll be easier and quicker if we walk," she stated once everything was in order. She lead the way, keeping relatively quiet during the walk. It only took about ten minutes to reach their destination. It was a tiki bar, which meant they would be spending their time outside. That was fine with Ryoka—a little fresh air was good for them even if the last couple of days were spent outside. She settled into one of the wooden chairs, and smiled at the bartender.
He handed her a menu, and one for Mika. Ryoka pursed her lips together as she read the choices. Even though she couldn't speak English, Mika was with her. She could just ask Mika to order her drink for the time being. “Mika-chan, could you order this for me?" she asked, pointing to a cocktail called Zombie.
Mika nodded slowly, though not before a pause. Her mouth pulled slightly to the side, perhaps at the ingredient list for the drink, which of course Ryoka could not read. Turning to the bartender, she spoke rapidly in English, the incomprehensible string of words having the end result of a cocktail that matched the picture being set in front of Ryoka. Mika's drink was electric blue, served in a martini glass with a pink umbrella sticking out of it.
The sun was setting over the beach to Ryoka's left; as it did, the crowd around the bar picked up a little—mostly young single people by the look of it, and a fair mix of locals and tourists. Probably most of them were American, though there were a couple people speaking something that might have been Spanish a couple of tables down.
"So, why the sudden need for a trip to the bar, Ryoka-san?" Mika was eying her with something approaching suspicion over the rim of her glass, one eyebrow arched.
Ryoka didn't answer at first, instead, choosing to take a sip of her drink. It was a bit sour, but she liked sour things. She liked a lot of things, she supposed. She took in a deep breath, afterwards, and stared at Mika. She needed to choose her words carefully. Not because she wanted to be delicate about the situation, but because she wasn't exactly sure what to say. How could she put into words what she wanted Mika to know? She grinned.
“Because I needed a date, and Etsuko's too young to go with me. Have you never been on one, Mika-chan, a date?" she asked, arching her brow and taking another sip of her cocktail.
"Probably, if this qualifies as one." Mika blinked, unperturbed by her assertion. "But for most definitions, no. Why—have you?" She seemed to expect an answer in the affirmative, leaning a little back on her chair and crossing one leg over the other.
Ryoka gave Mika a flat look. “You've never been on a date? You? On a date?" she spoke, almost in disbelief. Mika was pretty, beautiful even, but how had she never been on a date? “Seriously?" she stated, taking a long drink of her cocktail. She pursed her lips together, sighed, and shook her head.
“Yes, to your earlier question," she decided to say. She'd been on a date, but growing up the way she did left little room for things like that. Ryoka was, she'd admit, a bit of a romantic, though. “I'm a little surprised, though, Mika-chan. I would have thought you'd have been on at least one. Is there a reason why you haven't? I mean, you're a good-looking woman, I'm sure someone must have approached you," she continued, arching her brow and leaning on her arm.
Mika set her drink down on the table, leaning forward again to stir it with the toothpick end of the little umbrella. "Our reasons aren't so different, I suspect," she said, giving Ryoka a look that said she'd picked up more from her answer than just exactly what she'd mentioned outright. "My lifestyle doesn't allow for the time it would take to maintain a commitment of that sort, and I'm not interested in casual or shallow relationships." She shrugged slightly, furrowing her brow at her drink for a moment as though it had offended her somewhere.
With a sigh, she picked up the glass and downed the rest, motioning for another. "You can understand that at this point, though, can't you? The job—it takes a lot out of you. And even if you try to spend your off hours somewhere far from it... it eventually it just becomes your life. They become the people you care about, and everyone and everything else just... bores you. Or so it went for me, anyway." Mika tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
Ryoka smiled solemnly. Mika had a point in what she said. Somewhere a long the way, these people, the Motoyami household, became dear to her. She cherished them in a way that she didn't think she would. With Satoru, it was different because he was her brother. She'd always cherish him, but these people were not blood-related to her. She cherished them as if they were.
“It sounds to me," she began, pausing only to finish off her own drink, “like there's something more to it. It's not that everything else bores you; it's because there's something you're not acknowledging."
“Something you're refusing, or not admitting to yourself. I understand, I think," she couldn't say for certain, though. “You and I are kindred spirits in that way, I suppose," she stated, waving the bartender order and pointing to her drink. She couldn't order herself another one without speaking in English, but it seemed the bartender understood. Her drink was replinished, and she took a slow drink from it.
“Tell me something, Mika-chan. Do you like someone? Someone you know you shouldn't, but you can't help it? I know I do," she admitted softly. It wasn't an easy admission, and something like that wasn't easy to do. She was hoping that her own admission would help Mika do the same.
This was Mika, of course, so things would not be precisely that easy. "Like?" she replied, giving the word a slow emphasis. "If you mean that the way I suppose you do, then you must be very careful, Ryoka-san. Yōkai are not—" She paused, as if uncertain how she wanted to continue. Her lips pinched slightly, giving her a moue of concern.
"It is a very different thing, to be the kind of being who has lived thousands of years and will live thousands more. Maybe too different." She said it softly, the concern more obvious now; it sounded like Mika was concerned for her.
“Hm, I'm aware of that little fact," perhaps more-so than she wanted to be. She knew that human lives and yōkai lives were different, and would always be different. There was no changing that. “But that's the beauty of being a human, I suppose," she stated, taking another drink. “We don't get to choose who we like, Mika-chan. It's just something that happens. Our hearts are traitorous bastards that way, but it is what it is."
“It's not a crime to like anyone, Mika-chan. Admitting to it can be sort of... liberating, but it's up to you whether or not you actually want to do something about it. Besides, it's not like I'm in any position to do anything about it," because she was human. She might have liked who she liked, but that didn't mean anything would come of it. Ryoka, as much as she was a romantic, was a bit of realist. She knew her limits, what she could achieve and what she couldn't.
“You, though, I bet you could," she spoke. Mika had more of a chance than Ryoka did. That was blatantly obvious to anyone who had eyes.
"I don't like anyone," Mika replied softly, already halfway through her second glass. She seemed to be holding it well, but even as much as she'd had gentled her expression a bit, making her a little easier to read. There was something almost morose about the set of her mouth, coupled with a... wistfulness? Maybe that was it. "That word—it's not even close to the right one."
She sighed through her nose, the sound almost lost in the jovial music that had begun to pick up from the DJ setup on the far side of the terrace area. "Maybe there isn't a right word." Her lips pursed again; she met Ryoka's eyes steadily. "I don't suppose anyone's told you this, but I've actually been with them since I was a child. Kiyoshi-sama—"
She winced, then threw back the rest of her drink. A short conversation with the bartender produced a tray with four shot glasses on it, each a different vibrant color. Mika picked up a purple one, and gestured for Ryoka to choose one as well. "If I tell you any of this, it stays between us."
“My word is my bond." She'd said something similar to Kiyoshi, once. “It's practically my specialty, keeping secrets," considering she was taiji-ya and all. She chose one that was her favorite color, red, and held it in her hands.
Mika moved her shot glass towards Ryoka. "A promise, then." Their glasses clinked together and Mika tipped her head back, the amethyst-purple liquid disappearing in a single swallow. She didn't even look perturbed by the taste, merely setting the glass down on the table with a decisive thunk.
She sighed, a little more of the tension bleeding out of her. "I was a street kid. Homeless, on my good days. Trapped in some government facility or with a well-meaning foster family on my bad days." She didn't explain that—but maybe she didn't have to. A hanyō child probably wasn't something most people were equipped to handle, and Mika probably would have had trouble pretending to be human as a small girl.
"So I made my living like most of those kids do: any way I could. In my case, it was stealing. Pickpocketing, mostly. The occasional more deliberate burglary or shoplift. I was small, and quick, and though my powers hadn't fully developed yet, also pretty good at not leaving traces." She nudged a second shot towards Ryoka—the blue one, keeping the lemon-yellow one for herself, though she didn't pick it up right away.
"So one day I'm at my usual hunting grounds in Asakusa. Easier to blend than Ginza, but pretty fat wallets regardless, if you know what I mean." She managed a slightly-wry smirk, an expression Ryoka had never seen on her face before. It was a little less cool and professional than most of what she let herself show—an echo of the streetwise pickpocket bleeding through. "I'm scoping out the potential marks, when I see this... man. Except I can sense that he's not a man, without really even knowing what a yōkai is or that I'm half of one. And I can't explain it, but I just feel this—this pull. Like... like all my life it's been raining and suddenly the sun comes out and it doesn't make any sense."
Mika shook her head, scoffing under her breath. "Naturally, I figure it's some kind of trick or that I'm fooling myself because I've never seen anyone so beautiful before. So I decide to steal from him. Like it's some kind of competition, like I want to prove to myself that he's not better than me even though some part of me just knows he is."
With a shrug, she picked up the other glass. "He caught me."
Ryoka, had she not taken what Mika said seriously, wanted to laugh. She didn't know Mika's life had been like that. It couldn't have been easy, but Ryoka felt happy. Happy because Mika was sharing something about her past with Ryoka. That it had been Kiyoshi who caught her, caused her to arch a brow.
“And what happened after that? It's hard to imagine, after knowing him now, that Kiyoshi would have done anything about it." Kiyoshi didn't look like the kind of person who would have taken offense to being stolen from. If anything, he seemed like the kind of person who would have given them everything in his wallet, and been on his way. He was a weird one, but she couldn't really blame him.
That time, Mika snorted outright. "Of course not. He offered to feed me, and I wasn't in any position to say no to a free lunch. I was honestly surprised he hadn't hit me." She took the other shot there, setting the glass down next to the first. "Plied me with questions during the meal. Eventually found out I had no place to live and didn't even know what I was, let alone what he was. So he asked me to come back to his house with him, meet his family. I didn't want to at first, but he kept coming back. He always seemed to be able to find me. And he'd always take me someplace to eat, until finally I agreed to at least see the place."
A little smile turned the corners of her mouth. "Honestly at first I thought he was a kidnapper, you know. But I was pretty confident in my escape abilities, and I'd used my money to buy a knife, so I figured I was prepared for the worst if he tried anything funny. I'm sure he knew—I wasn't all that subtle back then. But he never said anything about it. It took me half a year to stop sleeping with it under my pillow."
Ryoka didn't bother to keep her laugh concealed. She laughed so hard that her sides began to hurt, and nearby people were giving her looks of concern. Once she was able to regain her composure, she downed the shot in her hand, and slammed the glass back on the table. It wasn't hard enough to break it, but the sound it made did startle Ryoka a bit. She cleared her throat and turned her attention back to Mika.
“Mm, Kiyoshi the kidnapper. It's pretty obvious to see why you would have thought that," she stated, shaking her head with a large grin on her face. Something Mika said, though, had stood out to Ryoka. And as the closet romantic that she was, the grin turned into something a little more sly.
“Do you ever think that the reason he was able to find you all the time was because of the thread you both share? You know, the little Red Thread of Fate?" she asked, not bothering to hide her implication of what it meant.
Mika rolled her eyes. "Ryoka, it was because I was a hanyō child with no ki control that stuck to the same districts because I needed the money I could get there. All appearances to the contrary, Kiyoshi-sama is a very intelligent man. It didn't take much effort for him to figure out."
Ryoka scoffed and rolled her eyes as well. “You two really are hopeless," she stated, leaning back in her chair. She ran a hand through her ponytail, and pulled it over her shoulder. Leaning back towards the counter, she sighed softly. “Well, since you told me something about yourself, I suppose I could do the same. Don't... tell anyone I told you this," she began.
“I have a reputation to uphold, you understand," because of all people, Mika would understand. At least Ryoka hoped. “Despite popular opinion, I like classical music. It's why I enjoy listening to Satoru and Etsuko play their instruments," it wasn't a grand admittance, but it was something no one knew about her. She doubted Satoru knew, but he was a bright kid. He probably knew.
"Huh." Mika assessed the piece of information while studying Ryoka's face, adjusting her mental list of her qualities to accommodate the new one, probably. "This might sound weird, but I could see that. You've got depth, Ryoka." She scrunched her nose and smiled, the expression carefree in a way that just had to mean she wasn't sober.
"This isn't that kind of music, but are you interested in dancing? I believe I've seen no fewer than four men and a woman appreciate your appearance since we came in. If that's something you're interested in."
Ryoka huffed lightly. “Well, too bad for them since my heart is taken and you're my date. So," she stated, standing from her chair. She stood up a little too fast, though, since she felt slightly dizzy, but she managed to regain her balance. She cleared her throat, pushed her chair in, and offered Mika her hand. “I shall take you up on your offer: let's dance," she grinned as she spoke.
“But you know, Mika-chan, it's okay to admit that you love someone. Even if it's just to yourself." Admitting it out loud was another thing, and harder to do.
Mika took the offered hand. "I shall think on what you've said."
“Good."
He'd basically saved Satoru and herself from whatever fate they had, and had given them a place to stay. More importantly, she'd earned her job as his bodyguard. She was putting it down that whatever crush, or infatuation she had for him was just that. It would sort itself out, eventually, and she resigned herself to it. She pursed her lips together, running a hand through her hair to smooth it out. She wondered if Mika felt the same about Kiyoshi, though.
That day on the beach, when they were building sandcastles, Ryoka had seen it. The way Kiyoshi had leaned in, the way they were both fixated on each other for that brief moment. She'd been upset when the moment was ruined by that damn volley ball. A small grin pulled at her lips. There was one way to find out, and Ryoka knew that Mika could use a bit of a break. Polar opposites they might have been, but at the current moment, Ryoka knew they were kindred spirits.
With that in mind, she made her way to her drawer, pulling out a pair a dark gray, wrap blouse. It was sleeveless, pefect for the warm weather, and fitting enough for the scene she had in mind. The black pants that accompanied the shirt, were ones Mika had picked out during one of their shopping days. She appreciated Mika's sense of fashion, considering Ryoka had none of her own. That wasn't to say she dressed badly. She often had Satoru help out, so she wasn't completely hopeless.
Once she was properly dressed, hair pulled back into a tail, she made her way to the room Kiyoshi and Mika shared. She almost snickered to herself for that. Forcing the laugh down, she took a breath, and knocked on the door. She already knew who would answer first.
She wasn't wrong; Mika pulled open the door promptly afterwards, a slight flicker of purplish light fading from her eyes until they were back to their usual gunmetal grey. She wasn't quite dressed for the outing Ryoka had in mind, but that could presumably be fixed if she agreed to go.
"Ryoka-san. Come in." Obviously much too polite to leave her standing out in the hallway, Mika stepped aside, admitting her to the room she and Kiyoshi shared. It was of course ridiculously-neat and well organized, even if it was abundantly clear which side of it was Mika's and which side was Kiyoshi's.
"Is there something we can do for you?"
“Hm, not particularly, no," she responded, stepping to the side. Kiyoshi was currently sitting in the corner on one of the chairs, a book in hand. He glanced up and tilted his head. It was, in some ways, adorable when he did that. She wondered how Mika was able to remain so calm when he did that. The quizzical look on his face caused Ryoka to chuckle, though.
“But there is something I might be able to do for you," she stated, watching Kiyoshi's brow arch a little higher. “I want you to go with me to the local bar just down the street. You could use a bit of a break from sandface over there," she spoke, nodding her head in Kiyoshi's direction. He gave Ryoka a flat look, but seemed curious enough that he spoke.
“You should go, Mika-chan. I will be fine here with otō-sama while you are out."
Mika hesitated for a moment, pursing her lips. After a glance at Kiyoshi, though, she sighed quietly through her nose. "Very well," she said quietly. "Give me five minutes to get dressed."
Retrieving a suitcase from under her bed, Mika shifted around a few of the articles inside before moving to the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. As promised, it took her only about five minutes before she reemerged, hair let down around her shoulders and dressed somewhat more appropriately for the bar: white lace and denim shorts, sheer black tights, tall heeled ankle boots, and a deep purple blouse, fitted neatly to her figure but cast off at the shoulders, the sleeves only about two inches long. She slipped her phone into one pocket of the shorts, and her sunglasses onto her face.
"Shall we?"
“Let's." She'd expected a little resistance, honestly. She wasn't going to complain, though, since she'd achieved her desired result. Ryoka smiled at Mika and nodded her head, stepping out of the room and to the side allowing Mika to follow her. The bar she had in mind was a few blocks away from the hotel, and considering the reviews and the liveliness of the place, she could speak with Mika without any real eavesdropping. Ichikage and Kiyoshi were both daiyōkai, and their hearing was exceptional. She didn't have to be a genius to know that, but the talk she wanted with Mika was confidential.
At least she wanted it to be.
“It'll be easier and quicker if we walk," she stated once everything was in order. She lead the way, keeping relatively quiet during the walk. It only took about ten minutes to reach their destination. It was a tiki bar, which meant they would be spending their time outside. That was fine with Ryoka—a little fresh air was good for them even if the last couple of days were spent outside. She settled into one of the wooden chairs, and smiled at the bartender.
He handed her a menu, and one for Mika. Ryoka pursed her lips together as she read the choices. Even though she couldn't speak English, Mika was with her. She could just ask Mika to order her drink for the time being. “Mika-chan, could you order this for me?" she asked, pointing to a cocktail called Zombie.
Mika nodded slowly, though not before a pause. Her mouth pulled slightly to the side, perhaps at the ingredient list for the drink, which of course Ryoka could not read. Turning to the bartender, she spoke rapidly in English, the incomprehensible string of words having the end result of a cocktail that matched the picture being set in front of Ryoka. Mika's drink was electric blue, served in a martini glass with a pink umbrella sticking out of it.
The sun was setting over the beach to Ryoka's left; as it did, the crowd around the bar picked up a little—mostly young single people by the look of it, and a fair mix of locals and tourists. Probably most of them were American, though there were a couple people speaking something that might have been Spanish a couple of tables down.
"So, why the sudden need for a trip to the bar, Ryoka-san?" Mika was eying her with something approaching suspicion over the rim of her glass, one eyebrow arched.
Ryoka didn't answer at first, instead, choosing to take a sip of her drink. It was a bit sour, but she liked sour things. She liked a lot of things, she supposed. She took in a deep breath, afterwards, and stared at Mika. She needed to choose her words carefully. Not because she wanted to be delicate about the situation, but because she wasn't exactly sure what to say. How could she put into words what she wanted Mika to know? She grinned.
“Because I needed a date, and Etsuko's too young to go with me. Have you never been on one, Mika-chan, a date?" she asked, arching her brow and taking another sip of her cocktail.
"Probably, if this qualifies as one." Mika blinked, unperturbed by her assertion. "But for most definitions, no. Why—have you?" She seemed to expect an answer in the affirmative, leaning a little back on her chair and crossing one leg over the other.
Ryoka gave Mika a flat look. “You've never been on a date? You? On a date?" she spoke, almost in disbelief. Mika was pretty, beautiful even, but how had she never been on a date? “Seriously?" she stated, taking a long drink of her cocktail. She pursed her lips together, sighed, and shook her head.
“Yes, to your earlier question," she decided to say. She'd been on a date, but growing up the way she did left little room for things like that. Ryoka was, she'd admit, a bit of a romantic, though. “I'm a little surprised, though, Mika-chan. I would have thought you'd have been on at least one. Is there a reason why you haven't? I mean, you're a good-looking woman, I'm sure someone must have approached you," she continued, arching her brow and leaning on her arm.
Mika set her drink down on the table, leaning forward again to stir it with the toothpick end of the little umbrella. "Our reasons aren't so different, I suspect," she said, giving Ryoka a look that said she'd picked up more from her answer than just exactly what she'd mentioned outright. "My lifestyle doesn't allow for the time it would take to maintain a commitment of that sort, and I'm not interested in casual or shallow relationships." She shrugged slightly, furrowing her brow at her drink for a moment as though it had offended her somewhere.
With a sigh, she picked up the glass and downed the rest, motioning for another. "You can understand that at this point, though, can't you? The job—it takes a lot out of you. And even if you try to spend your off hours somewhere far from it... it eventually it just becomes your life. They become the people you care about, and everyone and everything else just... bores you. Or so it went for me, anyway." Mika tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
Ryoka smiled solemnly. Mika had a point in what she said. Somewhere a long the way, these people, the Motoyami household, became dear to her. She cherished them in a way that she didn't think she would. With Satoru, it was different because he was her brother. She'd always cherish him, but these people were not blood-related to her. She cherished them as if they were.
“It sounds to me," she began, pausing only to finish off her own drink, “like there's something more to it. It's not that everything else bores you; it's because there's something you're not acknowledging."
“Something you're refusing, or not admitting to yourself. I understand, I think," she couldn't say for certain, though. “You and I are kindred spirits in that way, I suppose," she stated, waving the bartender order and pointing to her drink. She couldn't order herself another one without speaking in English, but it seemed the bartender understood. Her drink was replinished, and she took a slow drink from it.
“Tell me something, Mika-chan. Do you like someone? Someone you know you shouldn't, but you can't help it? I know I do," she admitted softly. It wasn't an easy admission, and something like that wasn't easy to do. She was hoping that her own admission would help Mika do the same.
This was Mika, of course, so things would not be precisely that easy. "Like?" she replied, giving the word a slow emphasis. "If you mean that the way I suppose you do, then you must be very careful, Ryoka-san. Yōkai are not—" She paused, as if uncertain how she wanted to continue. Her lips pinched slightly, giving her a moue of concern.
"It is a very different thing, to be the kind of being who has lived thousands of years and will live thousands more. Maybe too different." She said it softly, the concern more obvious now; it sounded like Mika was concerned for her.
“Hm, I'm aware of that little fact," perhaps more-so than she wanted to be. She knew that human lives and yōkai lives were different, and would always be different. There was no changing that. “But that's the beauty of being a human, I suppose," she stated, taking another drink. “We don't get to choose who we like, Mika-chan. It's just something that happens. Our hearts are traitorous bastards that way, but it is what it is."
“It's not a crime to like anyone, Mika-chan. Admitting to it can be sort of... liberating, but it's up to you whether or not you actually want to do something about it. Besides, it's not like I'm in any position to do anything about it," because she was human. She might have liked who she liked, but that didn't mean anything would come of it. Ryoka, as much as she was a romantic, was a bit of realist. She knew her limits, what she could achieve and what she couldn't.
“You, though, I bet you could," she spoke. Mika had more of a chance than Ryoka did. That was blatantly obvious to anyone who had eyes.
"I don't like anyone," Mika replied softly, already halfway through her second glass. She seemed to be holding it well, but even as much as she'd had gentled her expression a bit, making her a little easier to read. There was something almost morose about the set of her mouth, coupled with a... wistfulness? Maybe that was it. "That word—it's not even close to the right one."
She sighed through her nose, the sound almost lost in the jovial music that had begun to pick up from the DJ setup on the far side of the terrace area. "Maybe there isn't a right word." Her lips pursed again; she met Ryoka's eyes steadily. "I don't suppose anyone's told you this, but I've actually been with them since I was a child. Kiyoshi-sama—"
She winced, then threw back the rest of her drink. A short conversation with the bartender produced a tray with four shot glasses on it, each a different vibrant color. Mika picked up a purple one, and gestured for Ryoka to choose one as well. "If I tell you any of this, it stays between us."
“My word is my bond." She'd said something similar to Kiyoshi, once. “It's practically my specialty, keeping secrets," considering she was taiji-ya and all. She chose one that was her favorite color, red, and held it in her hands.
Mika moved her shot glass towards Ryoka. "A promise, then." Their glasses clinked together and Mika tipped her head back, the amethyst-purple liquid disappearing in a single swallow. She didn't even look perturbed by the taste, merely setting the glass down on the table with a decisive thunk.
She sighed, a little more of the tension bleeding out of her. "I was a street kid. Homeless, on my good days. Trapped in some government facility or with a well-meaning foster family on my bad days." She didn't explain that—but maybe she didn't have to. A hanyō child probably wasn't something most people were equipped to handle, and Mika probably would have had trouble pretending to be human as a small girl.
"So I made my living like most of those kids do: any way I could. In my case, it was stealing. Pickpocketing, mostly. The occasional more deliberate burglary or shoplift. I was small, and quick, and though my powers hadn't fully developed yet, also pretty good at not leaving traces." She nudged a second shot towards Ryoka—the blue one, keeping the lemon-yellow one for herself, though she didn't pick it up right away.
"So one day I'm at my usual hunting grounds in Asakusa. Easier to blend than Ginza, but pretty fat wallets regardless, if you know what I mean." She managed a slightly-wry smirk, an expression Ryoka had never seen on her face before. It was a little less cool and professional than most of what she let herself show—an echo of the streetwise pickpocket bleeding through. "I'm scoping out the potential marks, when I see this... man. Except I can sense that he's not a man, without really even knowing what a yōkai is or that I'm half of one. And I can't explain it, but I just feel this—this pull. Like... like all my life it's been raining and suddenly the sun comes out and it doesn't make any sense."
Mika shook her head, scoffing under her breath. "Naturally, I figure it's some kind of trick or that I'm fooling myself because I've never seen anyone so beautiful before. So I decide to steal from him. Like it's some kind of competition, like I want to prove to myself that he's not better than me even though some part of me just knows he is."
With a shrug, she picked up the other glass. "He caught me."
Ryoka, had she not taken what Mika said seriously, wanted to laugh. She didn't know Mika's life had been like that. It couldn't have been easy, but Ryoka felt happy. Happy because Mika was sharing something about her past with Ryoka. That it had been Kiyoshi who caught her, caused her to arch a brow.
“And what happened after that? It's hard to imagine, after knowing him now, that Kiyoshi would have done anything about it." Kiyoshi didn't look like the kind of person who would have taken offense to being stolen from. If anything, he seemed like the kind of person who would have given them everything in his wallet, and been on his way. He was a weird one, but she couldn't really blame him.
That time, Mika snorted outright. "Of course not. He offered to feed me, and I wasn't in any position to say no to a free lunch. I was honestly surprised he hadn't hit me." She took the other shot there, setting the glass down next to the first. "Plied me with questions during the meal. Eventually found out I had no place to live and didn't even know what I was, let alone what he was. So he asked me to come back to his house with him, meet his family. I didn't want to at first, but he kept coming back. He always seemed to be able to find me. And he'd always take me someplace to eat, until finally I agreed to at least see the place."
A little smile turned the corners of her mouth. "Honestly at first I thought he was a kidnapper, you know. But I was pretty confident in my escape abilities, and I'd used my money to buy a knife, so I figured I was prepared for the worst if he tried anything funny. I'm sure he knew—I wasn't all that subtle back then. But he never said anything about it. It took me half a year to stop sleeping with it under my pillow."
Ryoka didn't bother to keep her laugh concealed. She laughed so hard that her sides began to hurt, and nearby people were giving her looks of concern. Once she was able to regain her composure, she downed the shot in her hand, and slammed the glass back on the table. It wasn't hard enough to break it, but the sound it made did startle Ryoka a bit. She cleared her throat and turned her attention back to Mika.
“Mm, Kiyoshi the kidnapper. It's pretty obvious to see why you would have thought that," she stated, shaking her head with a large grin on her face. Something Mika said, though, had stood out to Ryoka. And as the closet romantic that she was, the grin turned into something a little more sly.
“Do you ever think that the reason he was able to find you all the time was because of the thread you both share? You know, the little Red Thread of Fate?" she asked, not bothering to hide her implication of what it meant.
Mika rolled her eyes. "Ryoka, it was because I was a hanyō child with no ki control that stuck to the same districts because I needed the money I could get there. All appearances to the contrary, Kiyoshi-sama is a very intelligent man. It didn't take much effort for him to figure out."
Ryoka scoffed and rolled her eyes as well. “You two really are hopeless," she stated, leaning back in her chair. She ran a hand through her ponytail, and pulled it over her shoulder. Leaning back towards the counter, she sighed softly. “Well, since you told me something about yourself, I suppose I could do the same. Don't... tell anyone I told you this," she began.
“I have a reputation to uphold, you understand," because of all people, Mika would understand. At least Ryoka hoped. “Despite popular opinion, I like classical music. It's why I enjoy listening to Satoru and Etsuko play their instruments," it wasn't a grand admittance, but it was something no one knew about her. She doubted Satoru knew, but he was a bright kid. He probably knew.
"Huh." Mika assessed the piece of information while studying Ryoka's face, adjusting her mental list of her qualities to accommodate the new one, probably. "This might sound weird, but I could see that. You've got depth, Ryoka." She scrunched her nose and smiled, the expression carefree in a way that just had to mean she wasn't sober.
"This isn't that kind of music, but are you interested in dancing? I believe I've seen no fewer than four men and a woman appreciate your appearance since we came in. If that's something you're interested in."
Ryoka huffed lightly. “Well, too bad for them since my heart is taken and you're my date. So," she stated, standing from her chair. She stood up a little too fast, though, since she felt slightly dizzy, but she managed to regain her balance. She cleared her throat, pushed her chair in, and offered Mika her hand. “I shall take you up on your offer: let's dance," she grinned as she spoke.
“But you know, Mika-chan, it's okay to admit that you love someone. Even if it's just to yourself." Admitting it out loud was another thing, and harder to do.
Mika took the offered hand. "I shall think on what you've said."
“Good."