It All Makes Sense in the End - Misha/Hisao
Posted: Sun Feb 05, 2012 2:18 am
I was bored the past couple of nights, and wrote this up. Just your regular ol' Misha and Hisao pairing. Some information:
- There is no actual porn scene, so you don't have to worry about that.
- Story assumes Hisao is on the student council, but not actually Shizune's boyfriend.
- Doesn't necessarily have any spoilers, but has to do with Shizune's route.
- This is a one-shot story, just one post. That said, it's fairly long.
With that out of the way, let's begin!
-----
If one were to ask Hisao just how he possibly could have ended up there, he would be unable to give a logical answer. The entire scenario was not only implausible, but seemingly impossible. Auguste Dupin himself would be at a loss should he have analyzed Hisao's dumbfounded face.
Despite these odds, there he was, behind Misha in the girl’s dormitory at two in the morning. Misha, alone, was escorting Hisao to her room.
Okay, Hisao. Calm down. He took a deep breath in order to relax his beating heart. He looked ahead, past the gently bouncing drills. They were nearing her door, not 10 steps away. Yet the seconds passed as hours to poor Hisao.
Maybe I should just go back. My chest is hurting as it is. Can I really handle... He shook his head. Surely he was just getting ahead of himself. No, idiot, we aren't going to do that. His thoughts changed rapidly as sweat began to form on his brow. But... What would we be doing otherwise?
Misha was quiet, an odd thing for her. She, too, was nervous. She knew very well what was intended, and so did Hisao. After several hour long seconds, they arrived at Misha's dorm.
Hisao watched as Misha fumbled in her purse for keys. Her nervousness over the situation was a relief to him, albeit, a minor one. He took the moment to reflect on just how they ended up there. It was all such a blur.
It was only two hours ago. Misha noticed his staring. He blushed, pretending to be looking around at the oh so exciting doors. The three of us were finishing up some paper work in the student council room. He reached into his pocket, grasping for something to jog his memory. He felt a familiar piece of plastic. Tracing the contours with his fingers, he recognized the Risk cavalry miniature.
His breath and heart rate slowed. This was good – all was falling into place. We probably would have finished the work before 10, had I not been such a fool. He recalled his stupidity. In the heat of passion that was taking inventory, in the midst of pencils scribbling on sheet after sheet of forms, he had dared to accuse Shizune of placing a large number of papers into incorrect piles.
Production was brought to a complete halt. Misha sure had a tough time interpreting. I doubt even she'd seen Shizune bring out such a fury of signs. Only four minutes needed to pass before they all realized what was required: The ultimate game of Risk. For the honor of their family names and their ancestors, the board was placed on the table.
Of course I lost. In only an hour, too. He sighed. Misha was unlocking her door. What a fool I was. She's a god! How could I kill a god? The door slowly opened, a room of pitch darkness greeting them. How could I be so naïve?
Hisao stared off into space, deep in reflection. Misha herself was nervous, and she stared at him. She tried to speak, but only let out some kind of high pitched mumble. This broke Hisao out of his trance, followed by his returning of the stare. They both felt their cheeks flare red as they gasped.
“C-Come in...” was all Misha could manage to stammer out. This was perhaps the first time Hisao had heard Misha speak timidly. Without a 'Wahaha~', as well.
Hisao followed her in, his feet meeting a rug. The room remained dark for a moment as Misha placed her purse down on a table beside the door. Looking back, Shizune is kind of a bitch. He recalled how she had forced Hisao to do the remainder of the paperwork, as punishment for both false accusations and lack of skills in board games. At first, Misha had laughed. Then she realized she still wasn't exempt from the work.
The lights came on with the flick of a switch. Hisao honestly did not know what to expect. He could picture Misha living in a bright pink and colorful lair easily, filled with dolls and frills. At the same time, he could also imagine her living in a bland, gray dorm, with only the essentials. Such a juxtaposition would actually be quite fitting, he believed.
It really is strange how two people can speak with one another, in the very presence of another individual, and go completely unheard. His thoughts remained in the past as he took in his surroundings. The room was neither of the previously mentioned extremes. Perhaps leaning on the girly side, with a big pink bedspread on her mattress, and an array of plush toys lining a shelf above it. The room was rather spacious.
She usually signs everything she says aloud. He examined the round wooden table on his left. It was out of place, with no colors adorning it. It held nothing but textbooks. More than likely, they had remained untouched for many a lazy night.
This time was different. The work kept her hands occupied. To his immediate right was a small table by the door. On it was Misha's purse, as well as a bowl with various miscellaneous items – coins, keys, magnets, etc. Further ahead, along the right wall, was a desk. It contained multiple little drawers, and there was a decent sized mirror on the back edge of it. Anyone who dared to sit there would be doomed to look into his or her own eyes. Chilling.
Shizune typically gets angry when people speak aloud without Misha signing. Why didn't she this time? He turned his head straight forward. The bed was in the left corner. To its right and slightly above was a window. They were approximately two stories above the ground. The top of a tree was just barely visible in the night.
That's right. He looked at Misha as everything came back to him. The cruel bitch wasn't even there for the first half. She took it upon herself to celebrate her little victory by buying a drink from the machines. He remembered how, when Shizune returned, they were close to being done with the work. Thus, she felt it was okay to occupy herself with her drink, and her small amount of homework. She had not even noticed Hisao and Misha's conversation.
Misha looked down bashfully as Hisao stared at her. Truthfully, he wasn't looking at anything in particular. His angry thoughts of Shizune took dominance in his mind.
“This... This is my room...” She knew she sounded like an idiot. She was just as anxious as Hisao, if not more so.
Our small talk over Shizune's attitude sure snowballed to hell, Hisao pondered, not noticing Misha. He did not remember the exact words, though he recalled the general direction their conversation took. She apologized for how competitive Shizune was. Hisao laughed, and apologized for getting her trapped into more work than was fair. Pointless apologies filled the silence. Before long, they were pointless compliments. Within ten minutes, the air held a scent of flirtation.
She looked so cute then, Hisao remembered. Though I was blushing just as much, probably. Misha was almost always acting as interpreter for Shizune, and thus, there was rarely a moment where Misha could be Misha. Upon both their realizations that they were attracted to each other, they instinctively took advantage of the rare alone time to learn more about one another.
How fortunate that they received even more time without the student council president. How unlikely, as well. The three of us locked up the room, and took a handful of documents to Mutou's class. He had personally asked them to do so earlier that morning. It was as if the universe itself was determined for these events to transpire.
“Uhm...” Misha broke the silence. Hisao snapped to attention, remembering he was, in fact, alone with a beautiful girl in her room after curfew. Something about this felt... off key. These were indeed exceptional circumstances, but would even that be enough to make Misha act so... abnormally? He laughed quietly and awkwardly.
“Ehh, sorry... I'm just tired, is all,” he told her. A sheepish smile covered his face, a crimson flush topping it. Misha giggled. She took two small steps closer to him. He wasn't lying: he was very tired, and this made it easy for his mind to wander.
We dropped off the documents and locked up the classroom. Misha and Shizune told me they would see me in the morning, and went out the main doors to the courtyard. I went over to the machine for a drink before heading out. He was exhausted. It’s so much easier to daydream than to focus on the matter at hand. Misha was only a foot away from his face.
I nearly had another heart attack. I turned from the machine, precious nutrients within my grasp, only to behold Misha looking at me in the dim lighting of the halls. God, that was –
His train of thought ended abruptly when Misha's lips met his own. Not even noticing her approach, his pulse quickened both in surprise, and in arousal.
...That was nice, his thoughts finished. The kiss didn't last long, and they broke apart. His tired mind began to shift focus from the past to the woman in front of him. What took place between the purchase at the vending machine, and the kiss shared between the two, would remain a mystery… for the time being, at least.
Hisao took a breath, and initiative. He placed his arms on Misha's shoulders and returned her gift in kind. He was not fully sure of how to proceed in this situation. The entire concept of “making out” was a foreign one to him. However, he had seen enough videos in the many nights of his years to give him at least a little confidence.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, and they were soon embracing each other. As confusing as the entire situation was, his mind could not wander at that moment. All thoughts were on Misha – the obvious things, such as the taste of her lips, and the sensation of their tongues exploring each others’ mouths. Hisao began to take in the more subtle factors as well, all stimulating him further, while adding more fog to his sleep deprived mind: The feeling of her hair against his cheeks, the very minor pleasurable pain of her nails piercing his skin, the slight but noticeable pleasantry as her breath gently reflected off of his face.
Misha slowly took a step backwards, careful not to break the embrace. Hisao followed her lead. They progressed towards her bed at a tired pace, as Hisao removed his lips from her mouth, in favor of her neck. She could not stifle her gasp, which seemed to echo in the silence of the night. She tilted her head back in pleasure, giving him more space to play with. His kisses slowly trailed up from her shoulder, passing the collar bone, traveling up the neck, under her chin, up to her cheek...
“Hisao...” she whispered. Unsure of whether she was calling out his name in pleasure, or to address him, he continued moving his mouth further up her cheek in order to nibble on her ear. She slid her hands up from his back, taking his face in her hands. She brought him toward her mouth, and gave him a light kiss. “I'm... also tired.”
Her face was almost entirely crimson, and her eyes were just barely open. Hisao's mind was in a complete blur, and he took several seconds to realize just what she was implying. His own cheeks flushed, and he placed his lips to hers, taking the lead and very gently sitting down on the bed, the embrace bringing both of them down onto the soft mattress.
Despite Hisao's initiative, Misha soon took the lead role, placing her hands on his chest. She gently lowered him onto his back, breaking the kiss only momentarily. They resumed, Hisao's waist resting between her legs, his arms wrapped tightly around her back. His tongue played with Misha's, both taking in the taste of each others' mouths.
She lifted her face away from his, and they both looked into one another's eyes. He saw the face of a soft and kind woman looking back at him, with the one wish of pleasing him. She stared into the eyes of an understanding and loving man, willing to accept her affection in all of its forms.
“Hisao...” she whispered. Her warm breath was a very welcome stimulation, the chilled air of the outside world somehow seeming to seep into the atmosphere.
“Misha...” he responded in the only way he could fathom, and lifted his head up to hers. She put her finger to his lips.
“Hisao... I want you to see something...” She kissed him softly and regretfully pulled herself away and off of the bed. Hisao sat up, ready to follow.
“No... wait for me,” she smiled. She wanted to give a flirtatious wink, but was too tired – it would have come out as odd rather than cute. She stepped over to a door on the right side of the room, previously hidden from view by the desk. She opened it slowly, careful not to make too much noise, and entered the bathroom. She gave a tiny wave as she closed the door.
The mist in Hisao's mind began to clear. He wasn't necessarily sleepy any longer, though it was difficult to break away from the thoughts of the gorgeous Misha. He couldn't help but find it unbelievable. He had never imagined she, of all people, could be so sensual. Though laborious, he managed to change his focus back to the question of before: How did they get here?
She sneaked up on me while I was at the vending machine. He retraced his steps in his mind carefully. He grasped the cavalry miniature in his pocket again, hoping to jog his memory. She told me... thanks for the help, and I think she also said 'good night', or something along those lines. I remember she hadn't had anything to eat or drink either, and so I bought her a drink.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to remember. Why couldn't he remember? There was a conversation. He and Misha had talked over their drinks in the darkness of the halls for quite some time.
I need to remember! Whatever happened in that gap is what lead us from our ordinary friendship to... this... He reached his hand into his other pocket, and felt something: his phone.
That was it.
Everything returned to him in a flash. He remembered what he had done, and why he had done it. He also realized how he was about to fail.
His hands shook, and his heart began to race.
He pulled out the phone and flipped it open. He was scared, making it difficult to dial the number.
But he had to dial the number.
He had to.
…
He put the phone up to his ear, and raised a pillow up to his face to muffle the sound as much as possible.
It rang. Once. Twice.
Pick up, damn it!
Three. Four.
I can't go through with this!
“H-hello?” An annoyed voice, filled with sleep, answered. Hisao kept his voice as low as possible.
“Kenji, the jig's up! Get me outta here!”
“Wh... what? What happened?” Kenji was still tired, but his voice began to express concern.
“I don't have time, damn it! She's about to come out of her bathroom any second now, and I won't be able to resist her!” Hisao was almost hyperventilating. The thought of losing his life force to this woman terrified him more than any demon.
“You didn't get any intelligence?” Kenji asked. Clearly, they both had different priorities.
“I tried, man, I tried!” Hisao heard the faucet in the bathroom come on, so he allowed himself to speak a little louder. “All of my questioning backfired, and she thought... she thought I...” he shuddered.
“All right man, I get it. It happens to the best of us. Abort the mission.”
“It's not that simple, Kenji! I can't just walk out the door at this time of night. If anyone sees me, I'm screwed!”
“What about the window?” Kenji knew it was urgent, and spoke quickly.
“We're at least twenty feet up, that isn't going to cut it!”
“It has to, Hisao! Does she have any sheets on her bed?”
“Yeah, of course she does.”
“You know what you have to do.” Click. His heart was pounding faster than he would have liked. He quickly began removing the covers from the bed, tossing them about. He yanked off the sheet and began to wrap it into a long, rope-like material. He could tell it wasn't going to be long enough. He could only hope to get as close to the ground as possible, or to the branch on the tree.
He walked over to the window. It was too late, the bathroom door popped open. Misha stood in the doorway, leaning on the frame. She had a smile on her face, her cheeks red. Her body was adorned with a black night gown, with thin straps on her shoulders, dropping down her waist, stopping just above her knees. It was slightly translucent at the top, showing a fair portion of her breasts. Hisao thought he could spot the edge of her nipples.
Her smile quickly faded, however, at the site of the mess that was her bed. “Wh-what is this?” she asked, completely at a loss. She had been anxious, anticipating several things that could have gone wrong. This was not one of the possibilities she had thought up.
Hisao's eyes were wide in complete terror. She was the most beautiful sight he had ever laid eyes on in person. This is bad. Before his mind was fogged by her feminine wiles, he improvised. He took the only logical course of action. He wrapped the sheet around his shoulder.
“Uh... Toga... toga... to...ga?” he said, half assedly. She looked down at the floor. What woman could be disappointed, upset, amazed, temperate and furious, loyal and neutral, in a moment?
“Hi... Hisao... Why... what... I...” she let out a series of unconnected words. “Do... do you like me?” she asked, looking up at him. A strange expression was held on her face, especially in her eyes. One of confusion, worry, and sadness. His eyes met with hers.
He felt his heart increase in pace, yet again.
Shit... he thought. The thumps in his heart were starting to get painful. He recognized this feeling. “He... he warned me... that this... would happen...” Hisao tried to speak in between breathes, now hyperventilating and clutching his chest. The world was starting to go black.
No! Not this time. Not after Iwanako. Hisao had almost lost Kenji on that beach… He took a deep breath, and stood. He pointed his finger at Misha.
“You won this time, woman. Mark my words, you and your organization can't win in the end.” Her expression changed to one of fear, tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Hisao...” she muttered.
Hisao took a step back, and dashed at the window.
“Sic Semper Tyrannis!” He shouted at the top of his lungs as he busted the glass, and charged out into the night.
Misha walked over to the window, slowly. She could hear people in the other rooms adjacent waking up, clamoring about to see what was happening. She stared out at the ground, trembling. In only half a minute, her door opened, and several girls slowly walked in.
“Misha... what... what happened?” One asked. They were all shocked.
She turned and faced them. Her face was devoid of emotion. She pulled a lighter out of her cleavage, a cigarette out from her hair-do, and took a smoke.
“He knew,” she stated flatly. They all looked at her, full of concern.
“How much did he know?” a tall one asked. Misha shook her head.
“Don't know. Don't care. He's taken care of now.” The group gave a collective nod, and walked out of the room, closing the door behind them, walking back to their respective dorms.
Misha stood at the window, her arms crossed, as she took a puff from her cigarette. The black gown complemented her shape nicely, and brought out her bosom. It was a shame Hisao could not see her in the moonlight. Had he not acted the way he did, he would have dropped dead at the sight. Literally.
What of Hisao? He rested on the ground below. He was unconscious for a moment, but woke up soon. He lifted his head up and smiled a grin, ruined by the lack of several teeth.
“Yep,” he spake:
“I'm the Master of Romance.”
- There is no actual porn scene, so you don't have to worry about that.
- Story assumes Hisao is on the student council, but not actually Shizune's boyfriend.
- Doesn't necessarily have any spoilers, but has to do with Shizune's route.
- This is a one-shot story, just one post. That said, it's fairly long.
With that out of the way, let's begin!
-----
If one were to ask Hisao just how he possibly could have ended up there, he would be unable to give a logical answer. The entire scenario was not only implausible, but seemingly impossible. Auguste Dupin himself would be at a loss should he have analyzed Hisao's dumbfounded face.
Despite these odds, there he was, behind Misha in the girl’s dormitory at two in the morning. Misha, alone, was escorting Hisao to her room.
Okay, Hisao. Calm down. He took a deep breath in order to relax his beating heart. He looked ahead, past the gently bouncing drills. They were nearing her door, not 10 steps away. Yet the seconds passed as hours to poor Hisao.
Maybe I should just go back. My chest is hurting as it is. Can I really handle... He shook his head. Surely he was just getting ahead of himself. No, idiot, we aren't going to do that. His thoughts changed rapidly as sweat began to form on his brow. But... What would we be doing otherwise?
Misha was quiet, an odd thing for her. She, too, was nervous. She knew very well what was intended, and so did Hisao. After several hour long seconds, they arrived at Misha's dorm.
Hisao watched as Misha fumbled in her purse for keys. Her nervousness over the situation was a relief to him, albeit, a minor one. He took the moment to reflect on just how they ended up there. It was all such a blur.
It was only two hours ago. Misha noticed his staring. He blushed, pretending to be looking around at the oh so exciting doors. The three of us were finishing up some paper work in the student council room. He reached into his pocket, grasping for something to jog his memory. He felt a familiar piece of plastic. Tracing the contours with his fingers, he recognized the Risk cavalry miniature.
His breath and heart rate slowed. This was good – all was falling into place. We probably would have finished the work before 10, had I not been such a fool. He recalled his stupidity. In the heat of passion that was taking inventory, in the midst of pencils scribbling on sheet after sheet of forms, he had dared to accuse Shizune of placing a large number of papers into incorrect piles.
Production was brought to a complete halt. Misha sure had a tough time interpreting. I doubt even she'd seen Shizune bring out such a fury of signs. Only four minutes needed to pass before they all realized what was required: The ultimate game of Risk. For the honor of their family names and their ancestors, the board was placed on the table.
Of course I lost. In only an hour, too. He sighed. Misha was unlocking her door. What a fool I was. She's a god! How could I kill a god? The door slowly opened, a room of pitch darkness greeting them. How could I be so naïve?
Hisao stared off into space, deep in reflection. Misha herself was nervous, and she stared at him. She tried to speak, but only let out some kind of high pitched mumble. This broke Hisao out of his trance, followed by his returning of the stare. They both felt their cheeks flare red as they gasped.
“C-Come in...” was all Misha could manage to stammer out. This was perhaps the first time Hisao had heard Misha speak timidly. Without a 'Wahaha~', as well.
Hisao followed her in, his feet meeting a rug. The room remained dark for a moment as Misha placed her purse down on a table beside the door. Looking back, Shizune is kind of a bitch. He recalled how she had forced Hisao to do the remainder of the paperwork, as punishment for both false accusations and lack of skills in board games. At first, Misha had laughed. Then she realized she still wasn't exempt from the work.
The lights came on with the flick of a switch. Hisao honestly did not know what to expect. He could picture Misha living in a bright pink and colorful lair easily, filled with dolls and frills. At the same time, he could also imagine her living in a bland, gray dorm, with only the essentials. Such a juxtaposition would actually be quite fitting, he believed.
It really is strange how two people can speak with one another, in the very presence of another individual, and go completely unheard. His thoughts remained in the past as he took in his surroundings. The room was neither of the previously mentioned extremes. Perhaps leaning on the girly side, with a big pink bedspread on her mattress, and an array of plush toys lining a shelf above it. The room was rather spacious.
She usually signs everything she says aloud. He examined the round wooden table on his left. It was out of place, with no colors adorning it. It held nothing but textbooks. More than likely, they had remained untouched for many a lazy night.
This time was different. The work kept her hands occupied. To his immediate right was a small table by the door. On it was Misha's purse, as well as a bowl with various miscellaneous items – coins, keys, magnets, etc. Further ahead, along the right wall, was a desk. It contained multiple little drawers, and there was a decent sized mirror on the back edge of it. Anyone who dared to sit there would be doomed to look into his or her own eyes. Chilling.
Shizune typically gets angry when people speak aloud without Misha signing. Why didn't she this time? He turned his head straight forward. The bed was in the left corner. To its right and slightly above was a window. They were approximately two stories above the ground. The top of a tree was just barely visible in the night.
That's right. He looked at Misha as everything came back to him. The cruel bitch wasn't even there for the first half. She took it upon herself to celebrate her little victory by buying a drink from the machines. He remembered how, when Shizune returned, they were close to being done with the work. Thus, she felt it was okay to occupy herself with her drink, and her small amount of homework. She had not even noticed Hisao and Misha's conversation.
Misha looked down bashfully as Hisao stared at her. Truthfully, he wasn't looking at anything in particular. His angry thoughts of Shizune took dominance in his mind.
“This... This is my room...” She knew she sounded like an idiot. She was just as anxious as Hisao, if not more so.
Our small talk over Shizune's attitude sure snowballed to hell, Hisao pondered, not noticing Misha. He did not remember the exact words, though he recalled the general direction their conversation took. She apologized for how competitive Shizune was. Hisao laughed, and apologized for getting her trapped into more work than was fair. Pointless apologies filled the silence. Before long, they were pointless compliments. Within ten minutes, the air held a scent of flirtation.
She looked so cute then, Hisao remembered. Though I was blushing just as much, probably. Misha was almost always acting as interpreter for Shizune, and thus, there was rarely a moment where Misha could be Misha. Upon both their realizations that they were attracted to each other, they instinctively took advantage of the rare alone time to learn more about one another.
How fortunate that they received even more time without the student council president. How unlikely, as well. The three of us locked up the room, and took a handful of documents to Mutou's class. He had personally asked them to do so earlier that morning. It was as if the universe itself was determined for these events to transpire.
“Uhm...” Misha broke the silence. Hisao snapped to attention, remembering he was, in fact, alone with a beautiful girl in her room after curfew. Something about this felt... off key. These were indeed exceptional circumstances, but would even that be enough to make Misha act so... abnormally? He laughed quietly and awkwardly.
“Ehh, sorry... I'm just tired, is all,” he told her. A sheepish smile covered his face, a crimson flush topping it. Misha giggled. She took two small steps closer to him. He wasn't lying: he was very tired, and this made it easy for his mind to wander.
We dropped off the documents and locked up the classroom. Misha and Shizune told me they would see me in the morning, and went out the main doors to the courtyard. I went over to the machine for a drink before heading out. He was exhausted. It’s so much easier to daydream than to focus on the matter at hand. Misha was only a foot away from his face.
I nearly had another heart attack. I turned from the machine, precious nutrients within my grasp, only to behold Misha looking at me in the dim lighting of the halls. God, that was –
His train of thought ended abruptly when Misha's lips met his own. Not even noticing her approach, his pulse quickened both in surprise, and in arousal.
...That was nice, his thoughts finished. The kiss didn't last long, and they broke apart. His tired mind began to shift focus from the past to the woman in front of him. What took place between the purchase at the vending machine, and the kiss shared between the two, would remain a mystery… for the time being, at least.
Hisao took a breath, and initiative. He placed his arms on Misha's shoulders and returned her gift in kind. He was not fully sure of how to proceed in this situation. The entire concept of “making out” was a foreign one to him. However, he had seen enough videos in the many nights of his years to give him at least a little confidence.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, and they were soon embracing each other. As confusing as the entire situation was, his mind could not wander at that moment. All thoughts were on Misha – the obvious things, such as the taste of her lips, and the sensation of their tongues exploring each others’ mouths. Hisao began to take in the more subtle factors as well, all stimulating him further, while adding more fog to his sleep deprived mind: The feeling of her hair against his cheeks, the very minor pleasurable pain of her nails piercing his skin, the slight but noticeable pleasantry as her breath gently reflected off of his face.
Misha slowly took a step backwards, careful not to break the embrace. Hisao followed her lead. They progressed towards her bed at a tired pace, as Hisao removed his lips from her mouth, in favor of her neck. She could not stifle her gasp, which seemed to echo in the silence of the night. She tilted her head back in pleasure, giving him more space to play with. His kisses slowly trailed up from her shoulder, passing the collar bone, traveling up the neck, under her chin, up to her cheek...
“Hisao...” she whispered. Unsure of whether she was calling out his name in pleasure, or to address him, he continued moving his mouth further up her cheek in order to nibble on her ear. She slid her hands up from his back, taking his face in her hands. She brought him toward her mouth, and gave him a light kiss. “I'm... also tired.”
Her face was almost entirely crimson, and her eyes were just barely open. Hisao's mind was in a complete blur, and he took several seconds to realize just what she was implying. His own cheeks flushed, and he placed his lips to hers, taking the lead and very gently sitting down on the bed, the embrace bringing both of them down onto the soft mattress.
Despite Hisao's initiative, Misha soon took the lead role, placing her hands on his chest. She gently lowered him onto his back, breaking the kiss only momentarily. They resumed, Hisao's waist resting between her legs, his arms wrapped tightly around her back. His tongue played with Misha's, both taking in the taste of each others' mouths.
She lifted her face away from his, and they both looked into one another's eyes. He saw the face of a soft and kind woman looking back at him, with the one wish of pleasing him. She stared into the eyes of an understanding and loving man, willing to accept her affection in all of its forms.
“Hisao...” she whispered. Her warm breath was a very welcome stimulation, the chilled air of the outside world somehow seeming to seep into the atmosphere.
“Misha...” he responded in the only way he could fathom, and lifted his head up to hers. She put her finger to his lips.
“Hisao... I want you to see something...” She kissed him softly and regretfully pulled herself away and off of the bed. Hisao sat up, ready to follow.
“No... wait for me,” she smiled. She wanted to give a flirtatious wink, but was too tired – it would have come out as odd rather than cute. She stepped over to a door on the right side of the room, previously hidden from view by the desk. She opened it slowly, careful not to make too much noise, and entered the bathroom. She gave a tiny wave as she closed the door.
The mist in Hisao's mind began to clear. He wasn't necessarily sleepy any longer, though it was difficult to break away from the thoughts of the gorgeous Misha. He couldn't help but find it unbelievable. He had never imagined she, of all people, could be so sensual. Though laborious, he managed to change his focus back to the question of before: How did they get here?
She sneaked up on me while I was at the vending machine. He retraced his steps in his mind carefully. He grasped the cavalry miniature in his pocket again, hoping to jog his memory. She told me... thanks for the help, and I think she also said 'good night', or something along those lines. I remember she hadn't had anything to eat or drink either, and so I bought her a drink.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to remember. Why couldn't he remember? There was a conversation. He and Misha had talked over their drinks in the darkness of the halls for quite some time.
I need to remember! Whatever happened in that gap is what lead us from our ordinary friendship to... this... He reached his hand into his other pocket, and felt something: his phone.
That was it.
Everything returned to him in a flash. He remembered what he had done, and why he had done it. He also realized how he was about to fail.
His hands shook, and his heart began to race.
He pulled out the phone and flipped it open. He was scared, making it difficult to dial the number.
But he had to dial the number.
He had to.
…
He put the phone up to his ear, and raised a pillow up to his face to muffle the sound as much as possible.
It rang. Once. Twice.
Pick up, damn it!
Three. Four.
I can't go through with this!
“H-hello?” An annoyed voice, filled with sleep, answered. Hisao kept his voice as low as possible.
“Kenji, the jig's up! Get me outta here!”
“Wh... what? What happened?” Kenji was still tired, but his voice began to express concern.
“I don't have time, damn it! She's about to come out of her bathroom any second now, and I won't be able to resist her!” Hisao was almost hyperventilating. The thought of losing his life force to this woman terrified him more than any demon.
“You didn't get any intelligence?” Kenji asked. Clearly, they both had different priorities.
“I tried, man, I tried!” Hisao heard the faucet in the bathroom come on, so he allowed himself to speak a little louder. “All of my questioning backfired, and she thought... she thought I...” he shuddered.
“All right man, I get it. It happens to the best of us. Abort the mission.”
“It's not that simple, Kenji! I can't just walk out the door at this time of night. If anyone sees me, I'm screwed!”
“What about the window?” Kenji knew it was urgent, and spoke quickly.
“We're at least twenty feet up, that isn't going to cut it!”
“It has to, Hisao! Does she have any sheets on her bed?”
“Yeah, of course she does.”
“You know what you have to do.” Click. His heart was pounding faster than he would have liked. He quickly began removing the covers from the bed, tossing them about. He yanked off the sheet and began to wrap it into a long, rope-like material. He could tell it wasn't going to be long enough. He could only hope to get as close to the ground as possible, or to the branch on the tree.
He walked over to the window. It was too late, the bathroom door popped open. Misha stood in the doorway, leaning on the frame. She had a smile on her face, her cheeks red. Her body was adorned with a black night gown, with thin straps on her shoulders, dropping down her waist, stopping just above her knees. It was slightly translucent at the top, showing a fair portion of her breasts. Hisao thought he could spot the edge of her nipples.
Her smile quickly faded, however, at the site of the mess that was her bed. “Wh-what is this?” she asked, completely at a loss. She had been anxious, anticipating several things that could have gone wrong. This was not one of the possibilities she had thought up.
Hisao's eyes were wide in complete terror. She was the most beautiful sight he had ever laid eyes on in person. This is bad. Before his mind was fogged by her feminine wiles, he improvised. He took the only logical course of action. He wrapped the sheet around his shoulder.
“Uh... Toga... toga... to...ga?” he said, half assedly. She looked down at the floor. What woman could be disappointed, upset, amazed, temperate and furious, loyal and neutral, in a moment?
“Hi... Hisao... Why... what... I...” she let out a series of unconnected words. “Do... do you like me?” she asked, looking up at him. A strange expression was held on her face, especially in her eyes. One of confusion, worry, and sadness. His eyes met with hers.
He felt his heart increase in pace, yet again.
Shit... he thought. The thumps in his heart were starting to get painful. He recognized this feeling. “He... he warned me... that this... would happen...” Hisao tried to speak in between breathes, now hyperventilating and clutching his chest. The world was starting to go black.
No! Not this time. Not after Iwanako. Hisao had almost lost Kenji on that beach… He took a deep breath, and stood. He pointed his finger at Misha.
“You won this time, woman. Mark my words, you and your organization can't win in the end.” Her expression changed to one of fear, tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Hisao...” she muttered.
Hisao took a step back, and dashed at the window.
“Sic Semper Tyrannis!” He shouted at the top of his lungs as he busted the glass, and charged out into the night.
Misha walked over to the window, slowly. She could hear people in the other rooms adjacent waking up, clamoring about to see what was happening. She stared out at the ground, trembling. In only half a minute, her door opened, and several girls slowly walked in.
“Misha... what... what happened?” One asked. They were all shocked.
She turned and faced them. Her face was devoid of emotion. She pulled a lighter out of her cleavage, a cigarette out from her hair-do, and took a smoke.
“He knew,” she stated flatly. They all looked at her, full of concern.
“How much did he know?” a tall one asked. Misha shook her head.
“Don't know. Don't care. He's taken care of now.” The group gave a collective nod, and walked out of the room, closing the door behind them, walking back to their respective dorms.
Misha stood at the window, her arms crossed, as she took a puff from her cigarette. The black gown complemented her shape nicely, and brought out her bosom. It was a shame Hisao could not see her in the moonlight. Had he not acted the way he did, he would have dropped dead at the sight. Literally.
What of Hisao? He rested on the ground below. He was unconscious for a moment, but woke up soon. He lifted his head up and smiled a grin, ruined by the lack of several teeth.
“Yep,” he spake:
“I'm the Master of Romance.”
