Sayuri paused in her fawning when Sasha put his hand on her face. She put her own hand over his, her hands stained pink with some of Sasha’s blood.
“How can you ask me that when you’re drenched in your own blood?” Sayuri asked, her tone somewhat disapproving. But it was just a symptom of her worry. “That plan sucked, you got hurt, I’m sorry.” She said sympathetically, with furrowed brows and her tone shifting with guilt.
Sasha shook his head, adjusting his hand on Sayuri’s face just so he could run his thumb over her knuckles.
“It was better than no plan. We would have eventually gotten cornered and who knows what would have happened. At least this way, we were able to fight back.” He assured her before trying for a lighthearted smile. “Besides, I’ve been hurt way worse, believe it or not. More than that, I’ve been hurt over way less. I’d take another beating right now as long as you made it out unhurt.” _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
Sayuri felt her heart thrum excitedly in her chest when Sasha spoke. They had sort of danced around the feelings of tenderness they had for each other. This was fairly straightforward, the hand on her face, the way he held her in his gaze. His blue eyes often felt exotic and intense, but in this moment they were so soft. For most of Sayuri’s life, she had been the scapegoat; Joe’s whipping boy. Sayuri endured pain and hardship with and unbreakable spirit and good humor. But for the first time she was feeling seen, someone you cherish, someone who was loved? She felt her cheeks heat up, an unfamiliar blush bloomed on her cheeks. She wanted to kiss him, among other things.
“Well, let’s try our best to avoid anymore trouble.” Sayuri said finally, after swallowing hard. She let go of his hand then, to bend down and check the wound on his side. Remarkably, it was healed. The skin was fresh and smooth, no scaring. Sayuri swiped the wet paper towel several times, wiping away only old blood. Sayuri exclaimed something in Japanese before standing back up, eyes wide with disbelief. “I can’t believe it! The cut is really gone!”
Sasha was well aware that his body was a miracle with heightened senses and its quick healing abilities, but it wasn't lost on him that it was quite a novelty to Sayuri who was unlike him in at least this way. He laughed at Sayuri's explanation, which was accompanied with a little hiss of pain as Sayuri wiped him clean.
"It's still a little tender, it's still tender." He said to her, looking down at the top of her head as she observed his wound site still. He so badly wanted to touch reach out and touch her again. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
Sayuri’s girlish embarrassment was washed away by the remarkable pink skin; she couldn’t believe it. She wondered if her mom could do this too, or her grandma. She wasn’t really disappointed in missing this incredible gene, but more elated that she could witness it. Of course she could shift into a four legged animal, but this felt like real magic. She stood up straight again and wiped at his face again to see if it was the same, if the places where knuckles connected with bone and broke skin, were now closed up and reformed.
“We need to find you a new shirt.” She said then as she worked to clean his face. Every now and again she would peek under the stained towelette in effort to catch the transition.
“It’s not great,” Sayuri let an airy chuckle escape her. She put her hands on her hips and let out a thoughtful hum, trying to think about what to do next. Stealing at the bathhouse was easy enough, she was in an empty locker room. But now there were in a busy train station, lots of commuters and lots of building security. She also wondered how long it would be before the yakuza called for a search in this area. The goons on the train could get off the next stop and get a car, try to catch them on the road. She didn’t really want to separate in any capacity, they were stronger together than on their own, or at least Sayuri was.
“I think I have to leave you here for a bit, you need a new shirt and I don’t think we can get away with you walking around like this. Even though you’re not bleeding anymore.” Sayuri proposed. [/img]
Sasha opened his mouth to protest, but he knew that Sayuri had a point. He pressed his lips into a dissatisfied line and furrowed his brow before speaking.
"Are you sure you'll be alright on your own?" He asked. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
“I’m more worried about leaving you here.” Sayuri admitted with an uneasy smile. “I’ll try to hurry though, don’t open the door for anyone but me. The password is Нас Не Догонят.” Sayuri said with a more playful smile then, proud of her choice in password.
With that, she turned on her heel and exited the private bathroom.
The train station was still busy, throngs of people bustling this way and that, waiting anxiously at the platform for their stop. Sayuri looked around cautiously, looking for anyone who might be looking for her. Although it just seemed like uninterested locals, waiting for the next train to arrive. She kept her head down and walked briskly past people, jogging up the stairs that led her above ground and back onto the street. Sayuri wasn’t familiar with the area, but she circled the block to familiarize herself with what was nearby. She had to go a block further to find a “retro women’s clothing store.” The outside was unremarkable, the sign was in English, in bold white letters, When Sayuri let herself in, the inside felt equally unremarkable. It was small, it appeared they only had one fitting room in the back, concealed by a large fabric curtain made from a tweed fabric that made it hard to move. There weren’t any mannequins, no outfits on display. Just a couple racks of clothes and two uninterested looking store employees. They were probably university age, one had little square glasses; these were chic in comparison to the teen girl at the bathhouse. She had rhinestone makeup and metallic star barrettes in her hair, that she fashioned into two low space buns. The other girl was click clacking away with long acrylic nails, on a hot pink flip phone. They both had in large indigo colored contacts, with bright white highlighter between their eyes on the bridge of their nose, and the middle of their forehead.
Sayuri smiled, gyarus, they shouldn’t give her too much trouble. They didn’t greet her when she came in, and Sayuri didn’t acknowledge them to draw attention to herself. Other customers did come in and try to get help from the two girls at the check out, but alas, they would only embarrass themselves when the girls continued to roll their eyes and ignore them. Sayuri filed through the hangers, a lot of the tops were women’s blouses that were made with a Japanese girls measurements, and not the measurements of the six foot something Russian man. But Sayuri did manage to snag a shirt for herself and for Sasha, and when she snagged a couple pairs of glasses on her way out, no one stopped her.
As promised, Sayuri hurried back to the train station, to the private bathroom she left Sasha in. She tapped on the outside of the door, “ Нас Не Догонят!” She said from outside the door.
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