tampered | Log; Completed

Log; Completed

When; December 29
Rating; PG
Characters; Makimachi Misao (

itachi_kunoichi) and Setsuna F. Seiei (

denyinurgod)
Summary; Misao, Setsuna and a cup of hot chocolate.
Log;
The first thing Setsuna noted to himself as he scanned The Square was that even after Christmas, the bright and colorful lights and decorations signifying the (supposedly) joyous holiday season (although Christmas Eve might indeed had been joyous in his case, or at least as close to the feeling of "joyous" as he could get) still adorned the sea of shops and restaurants.

The second thing was that he should keep his gun secure, in case the deities chose to inflict another curse with equal, or greater, danger than the zombie plague.

It was these thoughts he had going on in his mind as he walked towards the fountain located in The Square, as per the invite of one of the people he had met through the network, the cow-print scarf, a present from Lockon, wrapped around his neck, fluffy, blue gloves on both hands, and a warm, gray jacket bundled around his body to keep from the cold.

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Misao bounded into the Square, looking as energetic as ever. She was donning the Wutain winter clothing Cloud had given her, and was mobile and hyper as she would've been even clad in her shinobi uniform.

"SEEETSUNA!" she called out, peering over the crowd, jumping up and down to see over everyone's heads. "I'M HEEEERE!"

She was pretty hard to miss, with all her yelling and jumping around. Setsuna blinked, slightly surprised at the energetic display—although he should probably have expected this from how she was during their conversations in the network—and walked towards her.

"Misao."

Edited 2008-12-29 15:28 (UTC)

She beamed at him, giving him a little wave.

"HELLLOOOOO! SETSUNA!!!"

Even at the grimmest of times, Misao knew when to be serious and when to smile . . . particularly if her smile meant encouraging others to move onwards. She was just a child (though one should not tell her that unless they wished for a beating), yes, but she had the capability to lead an entire city and her ninja organization into preventing the catalyst of an impending war . . . through not only the mobilization of resources, but through the motivation of the people.

"Ready for hot chocolate?"

And Setsuna would not know all that just by looking at her, with her cheerful smile, with the idea of going out for hot chocolate on a winter day. He would have merely assumed that she was just a civilian used to living a life of peace, if she had not mentioned that she grew up in a world of war.

Everywhere, in many worlds, war and conflict always seem to exist...

But he merely nods and looks around, quickly scanning the names of the various stores scattered across The Square.

"Where should we go?"

"Café Juliet has nice hot chocolate!" she quipped, linking her arms behind her back and doing a little twirl. "You know, chocolate's rare where I come from! You have to go to the port just to get it! And it's sooooo expensive!"

Misao could tell --not just by a warrior's intuition but also because it was plain to see--that Setsuna had probably suffered many trials in his life. Maybe he wasn't able to have a happy childhood, and that was why he was so somber . . . but she didn't know that. All she knew was that she wanted to cheer him up.

"C'mon!"

Gesturing to him, she reached out to hold his hand in her own tiny palm.

Edited 2008-12-29 15:55 (UTC)

He blinked, slightly taken aback at the sudden contact (when was the last time someone had held his hand in that manner?), but allowed himself to be dragged around, nonetheless.

Café Juliet; the name was familiar, and he had been there once or twice during his stay in The City, with the intent of gathering information about the place and the deities and how to leave here, wherever here is, and anything else that might deem useful currently or in the near future.

But he had never set foot on the café for the sole purpose of being with someone else. The question of why she would invite him briefly crossed his mind, because he could understand every single knob, every handle, every button of his Gundam, every use of every weapon used at war, but this he couldn't quite fathom.

Probably because it was an activity usually experienced by people who knew peace, and peace was something foreign to someone like him.

And drag him along were exactly the words.

Misao immediately sprinted into action, dodging through the crowd and taking Setsuna along with her. She could feel his perplexity, but there were just some things that words didn't explain. A good life was something one felt to understand.

She remembered all the times she ran through the streets of Kyoto, holding her grandfather's hand in the same way, or linking her arms in Ochika-san's and Omasu-san's own while they strolled about looking for trinkets and for food to snack on. The Meiji era was one of peace, so they had said, but it didn't stop the many factions and many tyrants from attempting to overthrow the still unsteady government. As the Oniwabanshuu, she had kept the peace, and had led her clan when none other could . . . but that was all over with now. What was important was that everyone was healing, and happy. Especially her Aoshi-sama.

Briefly she wondered how he was. If he would like hot chocolate. He would probably be pleased that she was taking a friend out and having fun.

A sigh, before she directed her thoughts back to the present.

"Almost there!"

Café Juliet was in sight, and she darted into the doors, making sure that they didn't slam on Setsuna before she picked a table by the window.

It was unarguable that she was quite fast and nimble, and it was fortunate (or unfortunate, perhaps) that he had undergone the training required to keep up with her. He wondered, briefly, if there was more to her than he could see. Did she fight in the war as well? Was she a soldier? Did she lose anyone? He hoped she didn't; no one deserved a war. No one deserved to have anyone taken away from them.

Which was why he was fighting. To end all war, for those who have died, so that pain and suffering will be a thing of the past, and so that people wouldn't lose anyone any longer.

And then he was inside the familiar café grounds, and then next to the window, before he could even blink. He glanced at Misao and waited for her next move, because this had been her idea, in the first place.

Edited 2008-12-29 17:01 (UTC)

"You just wait here, and I'll get us some chocolate, eh? My treat!"

She beamed at him, emerald eyes aglow, before she darted to the counter to purchase their drinks. Steaming mugs of hot chocolate with a large dollop of whipped cream on top and chocolate syrup. To go with that, she picked some waffles with cream and berries. Those were treats she didn't have back at home, and she wanted to enjoy them while she could!

As quickly as she vanished, she was back, setting the tray in front of Setsuna.

"I work in our restaurant too, so I know how to move with a tray and to be fast!" A wink, and she struck a pose.

He could only nod as he watched her dart through the place—not that he could do anything else, considering how quickly she had returned.

Actually, maybe he was capable of blinking. And that is just what he did as his eyes settled on the cups of hot chocolate, the whipped cream and chocolate syrup beguiling, the pleasant aroma inviting.

He took one of the cups in both hands and placed it in front of him. "Restaurant?" he repeated, glancing in her direction.

She plopped down in front of him, taking her own mug.

"Yeah! It's the Aoiya, and it's a nice place!" Misao grinned before taking a sip of the hot chocolate, letting out an obvious "mmm!" of relish. When she drew her mug away, there was a smudge of whipped cream on her upper lip.

"'Course, I'm always a ninja, but we gotta have some funds too!"

He merely watched her movements, listened as she talked, and uttered out a rather flat-sounding "You have cream on your lip," once he noticed the smudge.

And then her succeeding sentence made him blink again, although with less bewilderment now than if he had met her during his earlier days in The City. After all, he had already met someone who utilized an enlarging doll as a weapon. Still, he had to ask:

"Ninja?"

She licked the cream away, looking like a cat.

"Yup! I'm part of the Oniwabanshuu, and we protect the peace back at home!" Misao was proud of her heritage, and she bobbed her head enthusiastically. "I love bein' there. It's my family!"

"Ya've heard of ninja?" she asked, tilting her head to one side.

He cringed involuntarily, because he's heard of protectors of peace, but all they did in his world was inflict anguish through ruthless methods of subduing those that went against The Federation. He wondered if it were the same in her world; she didn't seem like the type of person who would inflict that kind of suffering.

Upon hearing the question, he responded with, "I have, but they no longer exist in my world," followed by a one of his own: "How do you protect the peace?"

"No longer exist?"

The statement took Misao aback, and she looked away. No more Oniwabanshuu? But they were her life!

However, she had to admit . . . the Meiji era was about industrialization and modernization. If the samurai class had been abolished . . . eventually, the ninja would too fade into history. It was a sad and distressing thought, before Misao clenched her hands into fists, willing herself to focus on the present. She was perhaps one of the last of the Oniwabanshuu, and she would uphold it and make sure that it lived an honorable existence until the end of its days.

"Well, last thing we did was fight against a tyrant who was gonna burn Kyoto to the ground because he wanted to make the people panic and to draw the attention there while he was staging his war somewhere else. So I made myself okashira and rallied the forces of the Oniwabanshuu so that we could stop the fires."

He realized that his statement seemed to trouble her, but in a world where fleets of battleships, highly mobile weapons, and battles in outer space are the norm, ninjas have well become a thing of the distant, and sometimes forgotten, past. "Are you alright?"

And he was satisfied with the response she provided regarding how they protected the peace; it didn't sound at all like the peacekeeping tactics used in his world, and that was good. At least there were people like her in some worlds.

"Yeah!"

Misao smiled at him, and she was sincere. There was no point in focusing on the far future when she could do something today to make her life worthwhile.

She took another sip of her hot chocolate, letting the soothing sweetness warm her tongue and her belly.

"Didja get a chance to just hang around like this and talk back where you came from?" she asked, peering at him from above her mug.

He stared at his cup, silent, watching the steam rise from the chocolate, twirling along the edges of the mug, and then rising and evaporating in the air. If his world were a bit less distorted, if there were other things he could do aside from fighting, then perhaps he would have.

But he only knew how to fight.

Misao watched Setsuna thoughtfully as he sat in silence. An obvious lack of answer meant a "no," and she had to wonder about his reasons. Was it because he was raised into war? But then, so was she . . . though admittedly she had lulls--few and far in between as they were--where she was able to have fun and live normally.

"Setsuna?" she piped up, her big eyes fixed upon him.

"Once," he stated, keeping his eyes on his mug, "a neighbor invited me to his house. I bought them pizza."

And it seemed that he was going to say more, but his sentence ended there. For Setsuna, that statement seemed enough, the information sufficient, anything else outside that of little value to the listener.

Misao had been told about pizza, but she'd never tried it yet. That earned a curious tilt of her head.

"Is it good? Did you have fun? Was that in your world, or here? I don't have pizza where I came from!" She immediately bombarded him with questions, not meant to pry but simply because by nature she was curious and inquisitive. While waiting for his answer, she dove into her waffles, scarfing them down with obvious delight.

His first reaction, if it could be called that, was to stare at her as she ate her waffles (she appears to enjoy food a lot, he observed). He should have known that she hadn't tasted pizza yet, since she appeared to be from another era entirely. And then he attempted to answer her questions, one at a time, in sequential order:

"I suppose. I was only there briefly. My world. Ah."

All the while keeping a blank expression on his face.

She listened to his answers, all the while eating, before she pointed to her waffles.

"Want some?"

She grinned, licking cream from her lips before handing him a spare fork.

"Ya know, ya talk like I'm interrogating you. Don'tcha wanna share some stories?" Misao inquired as she downed another sip of hot chocolate. "Eatin' and drinkin' are always better if you're doin' it with friends, sharin' stories!"

He stared at the fork for a while before accepting it and taking a slice from her waffles—not too big, and yet not too small for her to assume that he was holding back out of reservation. He put it in his mouth and chewed on it, pondering on her question. Stories? But there was nothing he could tell her, there were already things he did tell her that were classified information.

He swallowed before asking, "What kind of stories?"

"You know. Stuff ya like to do, what you're thinkin' about, people back at home, thoughts on so-and-so . . . anythin' under the sun!"

She had no idea how some people remained quiet. Like Himura, or Aoshi-sama . . . and now Setsuna. But she was used to the type. They were usually the ones who let her chatter away . . . and would evade her kicks if she got impatient with them.

Now the problem with Setsuna was that he was not the talkative type. Of course, he did tend to speak up sometimes, but only during the instances wherein he felt strongly about something, such as ending sources of conflict, or a god that didn't exist.

Another problem was that even if people attempted to get him to speak up, he never really had anything to say. What could he say about himself, when all he ever knew, ever since he was a child, was to fight? When his very existence, the sole reason he was alive, was to pilot a Gundam?

Nonetheless, he was trying his very, very best at this... casual conversation thing. "I... like to exercise."

Misao had to spare a moment to blink at her new friend. Well . . . it was a start. Albeit . . . a rather strange and awkward one. She supposed it could be worse.

"Um, me too!" The chatterbox in her immediately sprung into action, and she talked away. "Since I'm a ninja, it's really important to stay fit or else you're gonna find that your skills won't be as good as you want them to be when ya really need them, ya know?" She nodded with conviction. "What kinda exercise do ya do?"

A relatively easy query he could respond to without any major difficulty.

"Push-ups. Sit-ups."

And he raised his cup to his lips to take a sip of the still-warm chocolate drink. End of sentence.

Again, she stared at him for a moment. This . . . was almost like talking to Aoshi-sama or to Himura. Except . . . about exercise.

She too took a sip of her drink.

"Ya exercise for fun? 'Cause ya need to?"

"It is a requirement that I stay physically fit," he responded. Because that was exercise was for, wasn't it? And he needed to maintain his top physical condition, because as a Gundam Meister, as one who ended all conflict through armed intervention, he couldn't afford to be anything less.

Edited 2008-12-30 16:47 (UTC)

"Oh, just like me, then. Even though I like exercising for fun! Runnin' around and stuff!" she crowed, puffing her chest out and bracing her hands on her hips. "I like it, an' it's expected of an Oniwabanshuu onmitsu! Gotta stay fit!"

"Ya didn't tell me why ya gotta be required to stay physically fit, though," Misao pointed out. She'd already said that she's a ninja and everything, so it was his turn!

He grew slightly confused at that statement; he had never heard of such a designation before. "Oniwabanshuu...?"

And perhaps that query could also allow for her to forget about her question regarding the nature of what he did back in their world.

Misao nodded energetically. "Yup! Oniwabanshuu! That's the ninja organization I belong to! We defended the Edo castle and the bakufu during the Meiji revolution, but that's finished! What's important now is that we keep people safe!" Again, she struck another pose, winking at him. The Oniwabanshuu were her pride and her joy, as well as her friends and her family. It was where she was born, and she would die defending its honor and the honor of her people if she had to. But now wasn't the time to think such serious thoughts!

"What about you?"

No such luck, Setsuna.

"I see."

It was... different to meet someone who's seen a war talking in such a cheerful manner, and with such an outlook on life. But in her case, she had a glimpse of something other than fighting. Something he had yet to experience for himself.

And then there was the question, again. So he quickly thought up of an excuse, to maintain a secret whatever there was left to maintain a secret of from her, a last ditch at keeping the information of the Gundam Meisters and Celestial Being confidential. "Staying fit helps in my travels."

And that was partly true, because ever since that battle at Lagrange, he had been observing the world (the world that was not what they wanted, the world that was not what they had fought for).

"I traveled lots too! I had to go 'round the whole Japan looking for my Aoshi-sama, but it was worth it 'cause I met lotsa my friends while I was doin' that!" Misao replied cheerfully.

Since he had already mentioned why he traveled in a previous conversation, she didn't ask anymore.

"Aoshi?" he repeated, the look on his face questioning. It wasn't just because of the unfamiliar name, but because of the concept that someone would travel around a country to find someone else.

"Yup! Aoshi-sama's the leader of the Oniwabanshuu, and he takes good care of all of us. He kinda became . . . demonic at some point, but Himura snapped some sense into him, and he came home!"

She did travel all across Japan just to find him, and she was all by herself at the time, simply relying on her ninja skills to move her from place to place hale and whole. Such was her dedication to the Oniwabanshuu, but most importantly to her beloved Aoshi-sama, for whom she would give anything.

Demonic... But at least she mentioned that he was alright. And now he somehow understood why she went off to find this person; he would have done the same thing, if the time came that Celestial Being were to be revived, and a comrade needed to be brought back to them.

He stared out the window, observing the snow scattered around the rooftops and sidewalks, glimmering under the sunlight. It was not entirely peaceful in The City, as long as the deities existed, and he knew, at the back of his mind, that there was still much to be fixed in his world, but it felt good to sit with someone just like this.

"So this is peace," he uttered, mostly to himself, not taking his eyes off the landscape outside.

Misao too turned her gaze towards the cityscape, admiring the strange but not unwelcome snow-frosted architecture and the different groups of people strolling to and fro. The City was such a melting pot of worlds, she wanted to enjoy each nuance while she could.

A smile quirked on her lips. "It gets even better, ya know. Each season has new things to do when life is peaceful an' nice. Hot chocolate in the winter . . . watching the sakura an' the flowers in spring, fireworks at the beach in the summer, playing in the leaves in autumn . . ." All of those were things she had done with the Oniwabanshuu, and memories of them floated through her mind as she narrated the small and poignant joys of each season.

A "hm," escaped his lips as he visualized the scenes in his mind. He never actually experienced them, and he had grown to accept the fact that maybe he never will, but it would be nice if the other people in his world did, or continued to do so.

But here, in The City, everything was only a portrait of a fake peace, wasn't it? Similar to his world. And the nagging voice at the back of his head that told him he shouldn't even be here started to act up. Around this time, he should be observing the network, looking for clues to end the deities and return to his world.

With that thought in mind, he abruptly stood up and glanced at Misao. "I should leave now," he stated.

A pause, and then: "Thank you for the drink."

Misao was startled by his abruptness, raising both eyebrows. "Ah, I guess ya have somewhere to be, then?"

She stood up as well, scrathing the back of her head before giving him an earnest smile. "You're welcome, Setsuna! If ya wanna hang out, you can call me anytime, huh?" The offer was genuine and true. Even if he was somewhat awkward and obviously unused to social situations, Misao knew that he was a good guy.

He nods in acknowledgment, sensing he sincerity in her words, even if he wasn't sure that he would contact her again to "hang out".

He turns away and leaves Café Juliet, re-wrapping the cow-print scarf around his neck. The City seemed quiet and pleasant on that day, its colorful decorations and pure-white snow that decked the streets making it look like something out of a postcard, but he knew it wasn't too long before another curse inflicted by the deities would disrupt the fake peace. Which is why he needed to continue observing, moving.

Because he's a Gundam Meister. And he will end all conflict, no matter where he went.

Misao watched him leave and disappear into the crowd. His stride was one of purpose, and she had beheld it so many times amongst warriors, whether amidst the Oniwabanshuu or between other friends along the way who too fought with both weapon and spirit. It too was something she felt within herself. The determination to see a goal through, and to let nothing stand in one's way. Such was the life of someone who fought for what they believed in, and who upheld their loyalties no matter what.

A smile quirked her lips. She hoped that he would be okay. Many fought but lost sense of the true goal, only finding what they achieve to be empty.

She looked down at her empty mug. She hoped that he would find what he was looking for.

A shrug, and she cheered up. Turning to the counter, she went off to buy more food. It was time to enjoy the season.

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Log; Completed

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akldffff i need to go to bed now after this tag, continue tmr? 8)

sure! 8D

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I LOLLED. XD

iroejlkasf ahahaha imsry he's such a retard xD

He's so cute. XD

iewrjk thanks, misao is adorable too! I'M CHEERING FOR HER. \o/

Thaaanks! <3 I WILL CHEER FOR SETSUNA TOO XD

H-HE'S TRYING HIS VERY BEST AT THIS "CONVERSATION" THING, REALLY!

HE'S DOING GREAT! 8D

YAY 8D

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