WHO: Fuuta de la Stella
scarfyoutodeath, Uni Giglionero
onlyluminousWHAT: Two not!scheming strangers meet. A series of exercises in manners.
WHERE: A shopping complex near Namimori that may or may not be Omotesando Hills.
WHEN: February 21, 2009 (YES, WE ARE FUTURE-LOGGING TO THE EXTREME.)
RATING: Very G.
WARNING(s): Excruciating politeness and various attempts at (politely
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There were some advantages to being perpetually shadowed by bodyguards, she supposed.
"I'll be happy to follow your lead," she told the Vongola employee demurely. That he was playing along so far told her that at least he was very... adaptable. Not that she would have expected anything less from people working under Sawada Tsunayoshi.
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He knew better than to offer her his arm so he led the way as best as he could to the D&G store on the first floor, without walking too far ahead of her or too closely for her liking. There wasn't much he could tell simply from looking at Giglionero Uni, but as he watched her out of the corner of his eye, he found that he did like the way she carried herself very much, for someone with such a small frame. She didn't strut or hurry, and moved with a youthful elegance that suggested she had never known anyone else's time - and Fuuta slowly realised that he was being forced to match her pace.
"Is this a birthday present?" he asked suddenly with great interest.
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She blinked at the question. "No," she answered reluctantly, wishing (yet again) that she was not such a bad liar she no longer even tried not to tell the truth. "Just an ordinary present." And then, realising that it was hardly fair to give away a piece of information without managing to find one in return, she asked, "Why do you ask? That is," and she followed with the kind of hasty, graceful apology she had perfected, "I'm sorry, it is certainly not in my place to pry."
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Fuuta let his mouth twist into a thoughtful little pout. "Oh, it's nothing," he assured her, keeping his eyes on the Dolce & Gabbana store coming nearer and nearer with every second. "I only wondered, so as to gauge how much you should spend."
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A few moments worth of consideration, and then Uni - with the same impulsiveness that compelled her to slip out of her office at the oddest hours and drive security to distraction - decided his reaction, whatever it was, would be worth the exchange in information.
"It doesn't really matter how much I spend," she murmured, looking distractedly at a display of white and gray dresses and organza wrap jackets in a window. "So long as it's the right gift." A pause, spanning the exact length of time it was considered polite to wait before casually changing topics. "What about Fuuta-san, are you looking for anything in particular right now?"
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She herself, to be honest, was keeping an eye out for things that she might use that coming night. But Uni Giglionero did not do last-minute shopping or panic buying. This was...making sure she had everything she needed. Uni smiled at the uniformed man who opened the door for her and entered the shop.
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"To be honest, Giglionero-san," he murmured as soon as he was close enough, "I had quite forgotten about Awards Night."
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(She should have memorised the structure as well, she chided herself. Not just a list of managerial staff's names.)
Uni let herself laugh a little, a sort of cross between a girlish giggle and the laughter shared by friends -- or co-conspirators -- and waited for him to catch up. "I suppose I'll see Fuuta-san there, then," she said, off-hand.
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He was so distracted by this train of thought that he only fully registered Uni's reply a minute later. "So you will be there for sure, Giglionero-san?"
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"Mm, yes, of course," Uni said, eyes turning from his face to take in the array of fabric before her. "I don't think I could not attend." She ran her hand over the shoulder of a dress shirt, noting how the texture of the dark gray moire felt under her fingertips.
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"How about this?" he asked, holding up the shirt for Uni to see. If anyone wore a jacket over it, the stripes would be barely visible.
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She pulled an ensemble from the rack: a strong, dark geometric pattern over crisp, light blue. "If De la Stella-san wouldn't mind..."
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