Sayuri held Sasha’s gaze and couldn’t help but be moved by his seriousness. She had only read about things like this in shojo manga, and since she had been with Joe since she was a girl; Sayuri had never known affection like this. To have someone express just blind devotion, it made her cheeks hot and her heart beat fast. She could hear it in her ears, Sayuri was sure Sasha could hear it too and it made her all that more flustered. This was reading like a fairytale.
She let out a weak chuckle and an even weaker half grin. “You don’t have to make promises like that, I’m already endeared to you.” She said. Sayuri wanted to believe in that promise, but it’s hard to say what can happen. Joe killing her still didn’t feel entirely off the table yet, even if it was on the horizon, Sayuri needed to make it until the meeting.
"I didn't say it to endear myself to you, I said it because I meant it." Sasha said, a smile making it's way to his lips as he lightly shrugged and released Sayuri's fingertips. "But I'm glad to hear your fondness for me either way. Let's go then." _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
Sayuri and Sasha made their purchase of saline and plastic flip flops before returning to their meeting spot by the train station. Sayuri perched herself where Sasha had been sitting when he was waiting for her. She rolled up the sleeves of the Armani suit jacket, velvet creasing with displeasure as she cuffed the sleeve. She reasoned that Sasha could spare an armani jacket, as he told her, and she wasn’t giving this one up. Now it was hers to do with it as she pleased. After rolling up the sleeves, she held out her hands to Sasha.
Sasha didn't say anything as Sayuri rolled up the sleeves to his jacket into shortened cuffs, meaning, truly, what he had said earlier. This jacket was one of his favorites, but he had others. He crouched down before Sayuri and reached for her hand again. Upon collecting it up, he gently turned it over, palm side up, and unscrewed the cap on the bottle.
"It won't feel great, but it's better than the silver." Sasha said as he squirted the saline into the wound, heavy handed as he intended to flush out any of the silver particles left behind. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
Sayuri did wince, feeling the familiar pang of agony as the silver reacted to the saline. Her nose scrunched as she bit back a pained groan, it wasn’t as bad as when she was actually stabbed with it, but it didn’t tickle.
“My hero.” She hissed through her teeth, but it was still playful. Sayuri was never that hurt if she could still make a joke about it.
"Mm, not yet." Sasha acknowledged the joke with a little jest of his own. He reached for the pocket square still tucked into his jacket's front pocket right in front of him now on Sayuri's frame. He flicked it to unfold the fabric before wrapping it around Sayuri's palm and tying it off. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
“The nurturing type, huh?” Sayuri teased him, giving his arm a playful shove before sliding off her perch. She turned, beginning to walk backwards before she would depart. “I’ll see you in the morning, yeah? You won’t be late?” She asked as a jest.
"I won't, but you better be on time too. With a bag, preferably." Sasha said, smiling softly as he watched Sayuri retreat. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
Sayuri made the treacherous jog back to the snack bar, while they weren’t open yet, one of the normal bouncers was outside smoking a cigarette. He recognized Sayuri of course and didn’t pay her much more mind than opening the door for her, saving her a trip back through the kitchen window. While most were complacent in her abuse from Joe and Mio, they were just that; otherwise, they didn’t mind Sayuri or have any of the same rules for her. If she were there on anyone else’s accord, they probably wouldn’t care so much about where she went and if she was coming back. But Joe and Mio did care if Sayuri came back, and her absence was very much noticed. They other girls either cleared out of the upstairs room, or coward in the corner, while Joe and Mio took turns berating Sayuri. They hounded her relentlessly on where she was, who she was with, and where she got that coat. Joe wasn’t observant enough to realize the coat was the same Sasha had been wearing at the club, perhaps if he had, Sayuri would not be permitted to attend todays meeting.
Werewolf anatomy and physiology was tricky and mostly not understood. Some of Daisy’s studies and observations concluded what was already so far apparent. Some werewolves, had improved and superhuman healing; save for wounds inflicted with silver. When Asha was shot at a mob shootout when she reunited with Adrik, she was fine. Her wound healed with easy and offered no scaring. Some werewolves could still experience a very human bone break, when Salamao broke an arm; it took the normal human time it would take to heal and still needed the support of a sling. Even Remus Navares had several obvious breaks in the bridge of his nose, contributing to a much more angular shape than his identical twin. Mila suffered aggressive wounds from her own attack, and does maintain scarring to date. Werewolves couldn’t get cancer, but they could still drown in a lake or be set on fire and meet a mortal end.
The history on werewolf medicine was especially lost on Sayuri, whom had even fewer context for her own anatomy than when Daisy began her own research. She knew with certainty that silver inflicted wounds hurt more, more than anything ever, probably. But she also knew, that she would not be able to walk into the meeting today after the beating she had received from Joe and Mio. With the meeting in a few hours, Sayuri spent the better part of that time, bound to a chair. She continuously received the burning slaps that Mio offered her, pulling her hair and spitting in her face. When Mio was tired, and Sayuri’s face hurt Mio’s hand too badly, Joe tagged in and served up punishment much more brutal. They last thing she remembered was Joe kicking her, and the chair breaking under her back when she fell.
When she awoke, they were at one of the many designated yakuza buildings for business. It was probably an establishment that on the surface, operated as a brokerage or a lawyers office maybe. Sayuri was seated in a chair at the end of a long glass table. Her legs were stretched out under the table in front of her, Joe had probably dressed her for todays events; Mio would never dare touch her in a way that would make her in any measure, favorable. Joe had her in wedged heels, black and shiny, with straps that went around her calves. It was a choice probably made because the straps would keep the shoes from falling off if he was dragging her unconscious frame somewhere. She wiggled her toes and rocked her feet back and forth, testing them for numbness and mobility. Then, she tried to sit up straight but winced at the pain in her back, she felt immediate strain in her spine when she tried to adjust. The florescent light above, beckoned the pain in her head forward, and she blinked her eyes forcefully to will it away. She then stretched her arms out in front of her, flexing her fingers and squeezing her palms; some full aching in her wrists from being tied up, but not too bad. Sayuri was most pleased to realize her arms were covered with the same velvet sleeves she had come home in; she smiled and laughed before groaning again; feeling her shoulders tense at the movement.
When she laughed, she felt eyes on her; the room was full of Yakuza executives and Joe. They were surprised at the sound of her laughter but didn’t motion toward her, Joe did though. He hurried to where she sat at the table and leant down to speak in her ear. He did so in English, so the others would not hear what he was saying to her.
“You had better be quiet, after the stunt you pulled this morning.” Joe hissed under his breath.
The smell of his breath, hurt her werewolf sense; the liquor was still heavy on his lips, mixed with the scent of sleep (morning breath). It made her head hurt worse and she turned her face away from him on impulse, but he reached with his bloated hand to grab her face and jerk it to face him.
“I broke curfew, it was hardly a stunt.” She strained in his grasp, jerking away a little.
Joe allowed it, but probably only because he wasted so much of his time already on her. He straightened out his jacket and gave her a threatening point of his finger. A warning that if she were to act up again right now, he would find the time to make her regret it. Holding her gaze, Sayuri realized how different it was from holding Sasha’s. Sasha was serious about caring for her, and Joe was serious about harming her; the weight of the intentions in their gaze were different but both extraordinarily heavy. Sayuri also realized that she was forcing her eyes open to meet his stare with unwavering seriousness. She had no mirror to see herself, but could feel now that both of her eyes were badly swollen. They felt hot and puffy, if she could see herself, she supposed her eyes would be circled in a deep purple.
He looked away first, returning to talk to the other Yakuza, no doubt preparing for Sasha’s arrival.
Sayuri leaned forward and looked into the glass table for her reflection. She was right, her face was dotted with two black eyes; purple and badly bruised all the way to her cheek bones. Her lip had been split in a couple of places but Joe seemed to try to cover it with a lipstick in a similar tint to the dried blood on her face. Normally, Sayuri would’ve done her own hair in fun, heart shaped buns or braided in colorful hair extensions. But Joe had left it down, probably because he couldn’t do hair but also to conceal the gash in her head; just at her hairline. He’d made the effort to smear some shimmery glitter on her lids, but you could scarcely see it since her lids were so swollen. She didn’t feel pretty, which seemed like something to worry about given her circumstances. But she hoped looking so weak and beat up, it did not lessen Sasha’s devotion or push him to break his promise. The dress Joe had her in was a deep indigo, it was satin and probably too flashy for this meeting. It was spaghetti strapped, the straps crossing each other in the back to back a star. It’s length stopped above her knees and she made a note that the straps of her shoes were longer than the length of this dress; she felt naked in it under the bright overhead light. Once again, she felt thankful for the velvet jacket and made an effort to button the front and retreat into it; slumping back in her chair as she did so.
For as long as Sasha had been allowed to attend formal sit downs, he noted how his father always wore the same deep shade of red. Sometimes it was just his dress shirt, other times a jacket, but on the days where business was truly to be done, he wore red.
At first, he thought it was because he thought his father liked the color red, but he so rarely saw his father in the color outside of work. He thought, afterwards, that maybe it was a jinx. If he didn't wear red, maybe the deal wouldn't come to fruition or business would otherwise go awry. However, it wasn't until he witnessed Adrik execute the brutality he was known for in person that he understood what the real reason was.
It was a lot easier to hide the blood if it blended in.
Sasha had hoped to avoid wearing this particular suit on this trip, not because he disliked it, it was a genuine Alexander McQueen after all, but because he had hoped there wouldn't be any reason to wear red.
He hadn't gotten much sleep after returning to the hotel where the entire Nikitin entourage was staying. It was already late when he made it back to his room, and he stayed up even later reading over the contract Sayuri had handed over. And then there was the worry nagging at him in the back of his mind about having sent Sayuri back to Joe.
Had she made it back before he noticed? If they caught her, was she punished? What if she wasn't at the meeting?
Was she okay?
All of his worries made for rotten sleep when he finally made it into his bed, however, there was still business to be done regardless and he pulled himself together the following morning as if he hadn't tossed and turned for hours the night before.
He wore a red suit jacket and cigarette pants to match. The jacket had tendrils of black dyed into it that made a design that looked like plumes of smoke and underneath he wore an equally black button up to match. He had on a pair of dark black loafers with black hardware that looked more business than fun and gaudy unlike the shoes he had worn the night before.
Beside him, Stasi wore a red dress to match, something she had practically yelled in delight about when Sasha had come to her room to tell her the dress code for the day. She wore another dress number that hid nothing from the masses. The skirt was short, as usual, and the neck of the dress dipped low enough that it almost exposed her navel as well as the rest of her assets and a handful of noticeable purple spots on her neck and chest that no one dared ask about.
The group strode up to the bar where the meeting was set to take place. Sasha stopped at the front of the group and reached up to brush at his suit jacket.
"Remember, we won't strike them first, we're just here to cancel our deal, but if they want to die like men, we'll oblige them." Sasha said. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
The morning of, Spider was a slightly rattled. Last night, it went without saying that Spider was not on his best behavior. How was it that he followed Ania around for most of his life, and maybe had accidentally grazed her shoulder once. But one night with Stasi, he fell right into her bed, drunk and pitiful. To even recall their steamy affair, caused him to flush and his heart to race. But he was still a professional, on a day like this, a lot could go wrong. Even riding on the tails of his hangover, he was alert and serious. His hair was in it’s normal slicked back fashion, and each of his knuckles were dotted with a ring. He wore a black shirt with a high collar to conceal the trail of kisses, Stasi had left behind. He paired it with a fitted suit jacket that was a deep red, color matched to clotted blood. Even after having drank all night, he was clean and shaven. But this was Spiders own personal standard, he always dressed nice (even if not always to hide hickies). His hair was always kept and his clothes were always hand pressed.
He walked ahead of Sasha and Stasi, pushing open the door and holding it open for them to enter. Spider had of course, already begun to survey the room for anything of note. His eyes fell immediately on the girl from the club, Sasha seemed sweet on her. What happened to her after she left the club?
While Yakuza made an effort to make room for Sasha and his entourage, they sort of parted like the Red Sea, spotlighting Sayuri at the end of the table. It was funny to her, how they all clumped together like little ducklings; eager to impress Sasha and seal the deal. Even Joe, his face still red from being enraged at Sayuri, shifted into that charismatic smile. But Sayuri couldn’t help but feel like he was here to see her, everyone else was secondary. Though all the Yakuza scurried to their feet, welcoming and standing at attention; Sayuri stayed seated at the end of the table. Though she was clearly in bad shape, even with her swollen eyes, she managed to issue Sasha a wink and held up a weak peace sign with her fingers.
Sasha’s eyes almost immediately fell onto Sayuri and while he had been the one to instruct on holding off on starting a fight, his chest swelled with enough anger upon seeing Sayuri’s state that he wanted to disregard his own direction. He managed to compose himself however and proceeded to the table, jaw tense. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
Everyone found their seats, of course Sayuri wanted to get up and sit by Sasha. But of course she couldn’t, and Joe seated himself right beside her as the meeting began. Spider stood behind Sasha and Stasi, their other footmen taking similar positions; again, just incase things should go south.
There was some exchanges in Japanese amongst the Yakuza, before Joe piped up.
“Thank you for meeting with us today, Mr. Nikitin. I have the paperwork all drawn up, you may review it before issuing payment. I will correspond with you directly, regarding the shipment of the materials.” Joe explained, procuring a stack of papers, before sliding them across the table to him.
Sayuri had been rocking nonchalantly in her chair, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Her gaze found Sasha, when Joe slid the contract across the table. She didn’t expect that Sasha would sign the deal, he said he wouldn’t. But Joe was acting normal, natural; the paperwork looked legit. Although it had to if Joe was going to fool even his fellow Yakuza.
Sasha pulled the paperwork over to his side of the table and pretended to look it over. Even at a glance, it all looked legitimate, or at least as legitimate as paperwork for illegal arms deals could look. He wondered, for a brief moment, if Joe drafted up the documents himself, if he was smart enough too. Maybe the betrayal ran deeper than just him, though that hardly mattered.
He had yet to tell his company that they would be abandoning the deal, so when he reached into his suit jacket and produced the wrinkled contract Sayuri had brought him the night before, there were of course confused whispers. He set the paperwork down and pushed it back across the table towards the yakuza group.
“There will be no contract between us today, or any day. We don’t make deals, especially fake ones, with засранец like you.” Sasha said, matter of factly.
Stasi leaned over her cousin’s shoulder to look at the paperwork and after a brief moment of looking it over, a look of understanding and then rage flashed across her features.
“I knew it.” She hissed, looking ready to throw herself across the table at the disrespect and betrayal the papers meant. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
There was some words exchanged amongst the Yakuza and Joe, who reached to pick up the invoice and examine it. When he did, he face began to balloon like a tomato, his face red with rage. Another Yakuza boss snatched the invoice out of his hand, he was yelling now, and other bosses began snatching for the paper and shouting some more. Joe was shaking, he was so angry. Sayuri, had silently watched the exchange go down; rocking nonchalantly in her chair. But when she saw Joe begin to shake, she laughed; loud and hard.
She felt like she had just won the lottery.
Some of the yakuza were nudging Sayuri for her attention, they wanted her to translate for them because they had abandoned using Joe. He wasn’t responding anyways, just quivering while getting screamed at. Before Sayuri could say anything, her laughter trailing off before Joe turned abruptly and slapped her. In that time he was silently seething, he must’ve figured it out; where Sasha got that invoice, and where Sayuri was all night. Sayuri went sailing back with her still in it (it was a spiny office chair). The chair spun until Sayuri planted her heels and she touched her cheek. She didn’t feel like she felt it really, it could’ve been that her face was too beat up to feel anything lighter than the hits she had already took.
“It was her, it was her to blame!” Joe exclaimed first in Japanese, and then in English. “She made fraudulent papers, she means to betray the Yakuza.” He insisted.
Joe stood up then and strode over to Sayuri before grabbing her wrist and forcefully jerking her out of the chair. Her knees buckled and her platform heels did not help her regain any footing. She clumsily fell on her knees, and even though her pulled harshly at her arm; Sayuri laughed. She laughed all the way to Sasha, where Joe dragged her and slammed her hand onto the table in front of Sasha.
“Look, she has only three fingers. Even Americans know what that means, she’s disloyal.” Joe tried again.
Some of the Yakuza were reorganizing, deciding if they should believe Joe. Trying to parse why this girl would risk her life to do something like this.
You cannot post new topics in this forum You cannot reply to topics in this forum You cannot edit your posts in this forum You cannot delete your posts in this forum You cannot vote in polls in this forum
FAQ
Search
Memberlist
Usergroups
Register
Profile
Log in to check your private messages
Log in
