(no subject)
020
Shige ought the day wouldn't be any stranger. He hoped that upon reaching the address specified in the letter mailed to them days earlier, they wouldn't be meeting any more daredevils worse than the last.
A young man presented himself to them-the one who had been expecting them, they supposed-pressed in a clean and crisp suit, a pretty young lady tucked at his side. Shige really ought the day wouldn't be any stranger, but Shige had only thought too soon.
"You must be Kato-kun's son," the man greeted and stretched his hand out. "I've heard so much about you."
Oh, the usual.
"You must be Yamashita-kun,"-Shige wished he could say the same thing-"this is Koyama Keiichiro, he's been kind enough to let me stay with him while in Berlin."
The young lady pressed herself against Yamashita's arm and smiled at Shige.
"Your... wife?" Shige coughed, turned an interesting and bright shade of color that let a smirk appear on the lady's face.
Yamashita pulled on her waist and grinned. "My fiancee, Yuya."
"Bonjour monsieur," she curtsied and tilted her head, her grace and gesture as fleeting and light as a feather. Her eyes glistened under her fringe and Shige fell fast.
"Congratulations," he stammered and laughed, almost nervously if he hadn't left Yuya's gaze. "You'll make a wonderful couple."
"Thank you," Yuya spoke, her accent obviously out of place but. But.
"You're welcome, milady."
Yuya tilted her head again-and there it was, that sudden grace and glitter.
The guestroom had been quiet between the two weary travelers until Koyama decided to disturb the silence and cough quietly in his throat. He loosened his tie and swallowed hard.
"Milady, huh? Since when did you use foreign terminology like that?"
"Since you kept mixing your German with your Japanese," Shige rolled his eyes dismissively.
"She's," Koyama paused, "she's pretty, isn't she."
Truth inevitably be told, "She is," Shige complied, pictured a vivid image of her face in his mind.
"She really is."
Shige ought the day wouldn't be any stranger. He hoped that upon reaching the address specified in the letter mailed to them days earlier, they wouldn't be meeting any more daredevils worse than the last.
A young man presented himself to them-the one who had been expecting them, they supposed-pressed in a clean and crisp suit, a pretty young lady tucked at his side. Shige really ought the day wouldn't be any stranger, but Shige had only thought too soon.
"You must be Kato-kun's son," the man greeted and stretched his hand out. "I've heard so much about you."
Oh, the usual.
"You must be Yamashita-kun,"-Shige wished he could say the same thing-"this is Koyama Keiichiro, he's been kind enough to let me stay with him while in Berlin."
The young lady pressed herself against Yamashita's arm and smiled at Shige.
"Your... wife?" Shige coughed, turned an interesting and bright shade of color that let a smirk appear on the lady's face.
Yamashita pulled on her waist and grinned. "My fiancee, Yuya."
"Bonjour monsieur," she curtsied and tilted her head, her grace and gesture as fleeting and light as a feather. Her eyes glistened under her fringe and Shige fell fast.
"Congratulations," he stammered and laughed, almost nervously if he hadn't left Yuya's gaze. "You'll make a wonderful couple."
"Thank you," Yuya spoke, her accent obviously out of place but. But.
"You're welcome, milady."
Yuya tilted her head again-and there it was, that sudden grace and glitter.
The guestroom had been quiet between the two weary travelers until Koyama decided to disturb the silence and cough quietly in his throat. He loosened his tie and swallowed hard.
"Milady, huh? Since when did you use foreign terminology like that?"
"Since you kept mixing your German with your Japanese," Shige rolled his eyes dismissively.
"She's," Koyama paused, "she's pretty, isn't she."
Truth inevitably be told, "She is," Shige complied, pictured a vivid image of her face in his mind.
"She really is."