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caelesmariya-blog · 7 years

Text

a chance encounter ; start

One would think that, with the Port Mafia paycheck being what it is, she would have no requirement for things such as laundromats. She and Ryuunosuke could easily afford a washer and dryer of their own, so why bother?

Surely the very thought of the Port Mafia’s dog and silent assassin enjoying the mundane nature and mores of everyday life was laughable. As it were, Gin appreciated the simple pleasures of going about Yokohama as she did errands.

Today, she had to pick up her work clothes and some of Ryuunosuke’s, those that did not bode so well in the wash and dryer due to the fine fabric. As it was her turn to fetch the groceries, Gin would finish the remainder of her errands at the laundromat and as she walked through the door, comfortable, deep blue flats tapping against the tile as she stepped into the cool building, she contemplated on buying her brother another tin of his favorite kind of Oolong. It’d been depleted much, as she noticed..

Well, she thought with a quiet exhale, greeting the staffer with a soft hello and civil turn of her lips as she gave out her name (fake, of course), I suppose that’s to be expected, I’ve not been home in a while.

To learn of how much had changed, all that had happened, and in the manner they did--

It was still quite a lot to absorb it all. She still had difficulty believing it-- especially one aspect.

With him, truly...?

Lost in her thoughts, she would have never noticed him, even as the door chimed with another arrival, followed by footsteps and another voice speaking out to the staff politely-- had she been anyone else.

“...!”

Ah.

She would recognize that silver-white hair anywhere.

Gin felt her mouth twitch with the ironic laughter that tickled at the back of her throat; of course. Of course she would find him here. Where else?

Gin looked at Nakajima Atsushi, the Man-Tiger-- the Man-Tiger that was now her brother’s lover (and how strange that felt to say), and uncertainty rankled her. By all accounts, he’d been perfectly civil and polite during their first proper encounter (when the man with glasses and unkempt dark hair gave her that love confession), and he’d given Gin no reason to think otherwise..

She remembered the soft beep of monitors and a pale, broken body swathed in bandages and her jaw clenched.

Closing her eyes briefly, Gin exhaled and took the bundle of freshly washed clothes the the strap, hooking it around her elbow, and she began to walk. But not for the exit.

Her voice is soft, almost inaudible, but with his hearing-- she was positive he would hear it.

“Good afternoon, Nakajima-san.”

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