2026-01-15: Annexed Timeshare
- Log: Annexed Timeshare
- Cast: Shiryuu Ryouhara, Kurou Ryouhara, Umie Akabane
- Where: Shibuya, Tokyo
- OOC Date: 2026-01-15
- IC Date: Sep 10 2012
- Summary: After annexing Kurou's home to warehouse weapons (and repairs) Shiryuu must take the young over to someone's place for safekeeping. Or keep safing. Things go so well it hurts.
<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
After a long day of two shifts, the door to Umie's apartment shifts as she fiddles with the lock, creaking open as she twists the door handle and pushes.
Not a moment is wasted as soon as she gets in; door closed, locks shut, shoes off, hat off, employee uniform off, cloth shorts on, oversized stained t-shirt on. And, like that, her evening is set.
Down the hallway and into the kitchen, Umie looks into the short fridge and grabs a drink, and, drawing out the oyakodon pack she got from her Triple 7 shift, she pops the fridge closed with her butt and puts her dinner into the microwave.
*bip bip bip* Setting the appliance for seven minutes, Umie unceremoniously cracks open the can and drinks it back, sitting the can down on the little bit of counterspace she has in the small kitchen area.
One foot itches the back of her opposite leg as she hums, checking her phone as she waits for the microwave to be done.
Just another day as a normal, boring adult, for Umie Akabane.
Certainly no one else in her apartment to bother her, or watch her as she obliviously just zoomed around without a care in the world.
..... oh right, she needs to turn the fans on, it's hot in here.
<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
Yes, no one's here at all. It's certainly not like anyone broke in or anything while she was gone, then surreptitiously re-locked the door.
Well, to be fair -- it's not exactly untrue. The Shibuya woman's doorlocks were of the quality level that it could hardly be said to be breaking in at all. But at least it's not like the ceiling is caving in or anything, despite any insistence to the contrary. Besides. As long as they were inside they were at least safe from the neighbor, whom Shiryuu is for some reason not eager to meet again.
They were actually in the process of hanging a picture when she stormed in. Or rather, Shiryuu was, with Kurou given explicit instructions to stay quiet while he did so. The picture was, itself, a random spatter of paint across a canvas, with a little 'WHIRLWIND // RHYTHM' print stamped into the texture. The sort of thing that tends to show up at old record stores and booths. Of course, for Shirogarasu, mounting art is no problem at all.
Getting it level on the other hand.
Shiryuu is through his seventh imperceptibly fine adjustment by the time Umie bursts into the tiny space behind them. They are in fact, in the only spot in the place that she won't simply trip over them by walking around. Shiryuu turns, in a muted phase of alarm as the beast stampedes through her natural habitat, and the grey-headed boy looks for all the world like an offended cat as his presence goes entirely missed.
He is honestly doing a good job of blending in with the wall, wearing his white jacket and gloves as he does. It doesn't mean he's any less offended.
Part of a uniform flies past the onmitsu's head to land in a nearby clothes pile. Shiryuu's squinched up face turns into a little muted sigh as the shinobi steps forward, reaching out.
...to cover Kurou's eyes politely. He doesn't uncover them.
"Your situational awareness still needs work, Akabane."
<Pose Tracker> Kurou Ryouhara has posed.
Kurou is exceptionally skilled at being quiet.
He is the picture of silence, down to the last micromotion. Not a breath escapes in a way that is audible, and not a motion is made. He watches, admiring the splatter of paint and its color. Idly, he thinks of how much skill it must take to create works of art that appear random while exercising one's organized intent.
...
When Shiryuu said he needed to use Kurou's apartment as a temporary storage facility, not a single question was asked. Kurou simply agreed. Or he had once Shiryuu finished with the nerikiri. There was nothing to be done but be pleased that he had chosen a residence with superior location.
So no he is here, in his silence, and holding his tongue on any thought that hits him concerning what might make adjusting the frame at the perfect angle easier. He only suddenly moves at the /intrusion/... of the home's actual occupant, so hardly an intrusion at all. Oh, it's rude not to greet her, but he's under instruction to keep quiet. The latter wins out, and Kurou only turns his head to look...
... and then sees nothing but the blackness of a gloved hand after an article of clothing goes flying.
While he is sightless, and while Shiryuu is addressing Umie, Kurou reaches out to bump the 'WHIRLWIND // RHYTHM' print with his own imperceptibly gentle movement to set it straighter.
<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
It's getting to the point that Umie's not even shocked. That, or she's *that* tired.
(It's a little bit of both.)
Umie cranes her neck at Shiryuu, squinting at him, then seeing him cover Kurou's eyes. "Put some notes up or something. Also, I'm decent now! You can stop covering Ryouhara-kun's eyes."
Ah, this'll get confusing fast.
Umie clicks both fans on, directing one towards the two shinobi before moving to the windows. A soft click is heard, and she slides one aside, briefly exposing a view of the apartment building across the way before shutting a curtain over it.
"My situational awareness is on each minute I step outside this door. But I can't be 'on' all the damn time or I'll get a headache."
*beeeeep* Umie moves back and opens the microwave door, taking the oyakodon and nudging the door closed with her elbow. Unsealing the packet on top, she uses some chopsticks to slide the ingredients into the fluffy rice on the bottom, mixing it together.
She looks up, raising both eyebrows, as she stands in the 'living room' portion of the studio apartment.
"... You got me a.... painting?"
She gives the piece a critical look over from her position before popping a bit of rice into her mouth. "... It... looks nice," she admits. "Good energy to it."
<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
Shiryuu is not entirely sure if he should be upset that Akabane isn't even startled anymore. He elects on a shade of nettled laying just between normal and upset, the tiny little rapier-sharp sigh only barely mollified by the fact that there are now two little fans working their absolute best to banish the stifling haze that sets in the room.
"It's the latest in technology," Ryouhara says of the painting, grimly utilitarian and apparently eager to sidestep the idea of a gift at all. Once he's sure Umie won't transform into some sort of inappropriate battle bun form is when he uncovers Kurou's eyes. "Societal mode," he tells the boy as he does so, without actually clarifying what that is.
Shiryuu spends a lot of time thereafter watching Umie mix up the rice and eat it before becoming aware of himself, turning away pointedly. "Anyway, it's the ransom to balance affairs, as I must charge you with a sacred task."
Huh. The painting did not look that straight before. He was dead positive that it still had to be righted by his strongest jutsu. Hm. Quite the mystery. Maybe the painting straightened itself in absolute terror. Shiryuu eyes it grimly. Best not be thinking of defying him later.
"For the time being, you'll harbor this boy, Ryouhara Kurou. I have annexed his property for my own use. So naturally, I will exercise domain over your powers to ally with my agents, and ensure a harmonious transition. A stipend will be provided for your good work. I expect that you'll not impede his activities during this arrangement."
<Pose Tracker> Kurou Ryouhara has posed.
Without sight, Kurou becomes high tuned to every other one of his senses. He counts Umie's footsteps, and notes the white noise of the fans. Feeling the against his skin is another erudition. The beep of a microwave. The smell of chicken and eggs. The tone in Shiryuu and Umie's voices as they exchange words.
He blinks three times in rapid succession as his sight is granted back, and with the command for societal mode, Kurou lifts his hand in a wave. "Good evening, Akabane-san."
Kurou allows Shiryuu to explain her new mission, and once he finishes, Kurou immediately folds himself into a deep bow.
"Sorry for disturbing you," Kurou says, the polite phrase having a rehearsed quality to it. He reaches into his school bag (did anyone think he had other bags to shove his meager amount of belongings into? no? good) and procures a small box, complete with pink ribbon, containing a rectangular castella cake.
Of the two Ryouhara that have infiltrated Umie's residence, Kurou is evidently less adverse to being credited with gifts. It is important, after all, to provide a gift to his new host.
<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
"... Technology." Umie's eyes the painting critically, pointing her chopsticks at it. ".... Is it... painted with that extra special black paint that was in the news a few years ago? If so, I can't have that in my apartment; I'm pretty sure that artist is gonna sue me for damages."
She may no longer be startled, but there's something to see in the subtle changes an Umie can have when she's more comfortable with someone (or someones). Kurou fell in by virtue of being just... Kurou; kicking him out would be kicking a solemn-looking puppy (who can summon a giant skeleton). Shiryuu... well, Umie would be reluctant to admit that it came at a cost to Shiryuu, but it's not like she asked him for shoes and dinner and expensive.... paintings? That use the latest technology?
That is to say: compared to how Umie acted when she and Shiryuu met the second time, and now, is a massive change. For one, her Mark is there, clear as day, right there on her arm, like a massive distracting bruise that likely looks more disturbing in a mundane context that it does when seen outside of it. There's the fine halo of blonde hairs around her head, the relaxed curve of her body, and the way she looks down to her food while balancing on one foot, the other rising to itch at her other calf.
.... Societal mode. Umie's lips dip into a slight halfway frown. Does he need to be commanded to be this way...? Who and what is the real Kurou, then?
"No, no," Umie sighs. "You're welcome here, Ryouhara-kun. Just because Shiryuu-kun was alive after all doesn't mean the door's shut on you."
She only notices, seconds later, her mistake. "Shiryuu Ryouhara-kun," she says, as if to make it seem like there was never a mistake at all, "is the culprit here, and--"
'I have annexed his property for my own use.' "...." Umie looks at Shiryuu, then back to Kurou. "... His place was a wreck, wasn't it," she quietly mumurs, towards Shiryuu.
"Thank you. Though he goes to Kasugayama High, right? Isn't that going to be a long way back and forth? That's going to eat into his sleep schedule for sure..."
Kurou produces a gift, for her. ".... O-oh, you didn't have to..." She sets her bowl down on the nearest available surface, taking the box and undoing the pink ribbon.
"Thank you," she says, smiling softly at the cake. "You're very thoughful, Ryouhara-kun. Maybe we can share some later?"
'I expect that you'll not impede his activities during this arrangement.' "...." Closing and setting the cake box down next to her food, Umie tilts her head. "School activities? Of course. Force him to bring trouble to my doorstep, though, and I'll make sure you know what I feel about that."
She goes to the bookcase now. "I have something for you, Shiryuu... Ryouhara-kun. Don't let me forget to give it to you."
<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
"Yes," the grey-haired onmitsu confirms. "The very latest. However, there is no trace of the inferior vantablack. If that artist comes to bother you, I will consign him to a lightless hell sublunar man has never before tasted..."
There is a strange formality to the onmitsu's candor, an unemotive, sly sort of discretion exercised entirely when around his subordinate. "Kurou understands the disruption to his routine is only temporary."The two, together, are a practice in mimickry, and though there is no part of him that appears disquieted or uncalm, inferring Shiryuu being 'at ease' would be a folly.
There is only the slightest measure of annoyance when he's described as a culprit. Worse yet, that he's referred to as Shiryuu-kun. "!"
The onmitsu's cheeks, a light shade of pink, puff out -ever- so slightly as his lips purse. Nonplussed, the onmitsu forces himself to look at more concrete sins. "Iih," the shihaisha grouses in open, windy objection, "it's not like I'd die so easily.."
He was declared dead completely against his will! There were executions over it!
The ongoing offenses compound, as Shiryuu's face only becomes worse when Umie starts to say something about Kurou's arrangements. "--Iiih!" he remarks under his voice, like a betrayed cat. Kurou's hearing is extremely sharp!! "A-as expected, you misunderstand the situation," he explains, in a low, but slightly less private voice. "Ryouhara Kurou has achieved a privileged position in my inspection program, with the highest possible marks. With my supreme authority, I've taken control of his property to upgrade it for the purposes of a ninkou shipment, th, that's all. It's only natural to place him with you, to make sure you don't get into any more trouble... as if we could bring you any more trouble."
Don't let her win, Shiryuu.
Luckily, Shirogarasu is given a moment to recover, as Umie accepts Kurou's peace offering. Exemplary work, the onmitsu swells with muted pride. Or relief. He seems ready to leave at that point, almost turning before he's distracted. "--eh?" What? Something for him? Shiryuu tries his best to appear uninterested. Instead, the boy produces a card sharply from nowhere at all, holding it up. "If there is a problem, my information," he explains crisply.
It's a blank index card. On it is his phone number, and literally nothing else.
<Pose Tracker> Kurou Ryouhara has posed.
A lightless hell for one who would bother Umie over the technology of the painting. Kurou mentally files this away, in case he is the one who is meant to act upon it. He will be the one nearest Umie for near future, and it will fall to him to deliver appropriate punishment.
... But he gets the feelings perhaps he should leave some for Shiryuu, in the event that proves to be necessary.
Societal mode. The instruction acted akin to a switch, but Kurou continues to gaze back at Umie with his traditional blankness. Shiryuu understands him well, and the answer about his routine so fully covers Kurou's own thoughts on any concerns about his schedule, sleep or otherwise, that he feels anything more than the nod he gives would be excessive.
And Kurou prefers not to abide by inefficiency.
Yet something does seem to relax in his shoulders when Umie tells him he is welcome here.
"Thank you, Akabane-san. For your kindness then and for now."
He was meant to protect her, and this proximity will help him better achieve that for the time being as well. But Kurou cannot deny that Umie still provided Kurou with distraction and reassurance during what could have been the beginning of a very rough period of his life.
Even now, she remains concerned for his general well being.
But Kurou's hearing is extremely sharp. He straightens, just a little, as Umie comments on his place, but Shiryuu is quick to correct the situation. That is to say: nice save. Any sign of startling, however much Kurou startles beyond the tension he carries in his muscles, eases again. Nothing about Kurou's face changes except the shimmer in his eyes.
The highest possible marks...!
Kurou only falls out of that quiet joy as Umie offers to share the gift he's brought. "... If you would like," he says, tone ever neutral, but eyes flicking toward the box suddenly like a dog that realizes there are snacks afoot. He didn't think he'd get to have any...
<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
"... So the technology is... paint." Umie tilts her head to a generous angle, glancing back towards the painting. "... Was the izakaya stall the latest technology too?"
The shoes... well, those could be too. They're certainly holding up better than her cheap ones.
'A-as expected, you misunderstand the situation.'
It takes a moment, Umie's gaze going from Shiryuu to Kurou, and then back, for the blonde to realize her misstep. Ah. Kurou... must not see it that way, or otherwise see them as his accomplishment, similar to how Umie sees her own.... apartment...
"Ah, my apologies," she quickly asserts, redirecting her attention to Kurou. "Congratulations on your hard work." She bows. "I'm glad Shiryuu Ryouhara-k-... san?" She's looking towards the shihaisha, as if to quietly ask, 'what exactly *do* I call you here?! There's two of you!'
And Shiryuu feels too...
Too.....
(Don't let him win, Umie!!)
"Anytime, Ryouhara-kun," Umie says towards Kurou with a small amount of warmth in her voice. "Maybe you can help paint some masks sometime? I need some new ideas. I can help with any homework, as well. You might as well use my talents to your advantage."
She... won't mind someone getting groceries, either. But where will he sleep? Maybe the couch? Or maybe by the window? Her futon takes up so much room...
And Ryuji's words of warning yesterday carry a certain... sting. She may feel a certain... sisterly feeling towards Kurou, but he's still a teenager. She has to be mindful of that, and how he (and she!!) will be perceived, if the arrangements come up. "We'll have to settle things with the landlord, of course, but that can wait a few days at least."
Besides, there's--!!
The 'gift', at first, seems to simply be Shiryuu's glasses, folded closed with a silk braided cord wrapped around them. The pattern of the cord is subtle, in shades of white that almost seem to shimmer, but this is simply an effect of the patterned weave.
Walking to him, Umie reflexively takes the card with her free hand and turns it over.
His... number. Phone number. Umie struggles to keep her cheeks from turning pink. She'll need to do this quick, or else--!
Reaching up, if Shiryuu doesn't bow away, Umie brushes the hair back from in front of his face and carefully slips the glasses over his eyes. Otherwise, she'd slip them into his hands, the cord simply wrapped around them as if she didn't know how else to justify handing the gift over. "Not sure if I like you better with or without the glasses," she says, with a cheeky little half-grin, seeming pleased with herself in that hesitant pose, despite the pink on her cheeks. "So you'll have to sell me on both."
Then, AS IF NOTHING HAPPENED (unless stopped), she turns to Kurou. "Let me finish my dinner and we'll have cake!"
<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
"The latest, and strongest technology," Ryouhara confirms a second time. "The izakaya was ..." Shiryuu tries to explain, before trailing off in a slow, uneven little sigh.
He doesn't explain further than that, mysteriously.
"Ryouhara-sama is my appropriate address," he informs Umie in a fit of nettled, imperious pique, not inclined at all to be helpful after being so ruffled. "I am the Shirogarasu, supreme authority of the clan of Ryouhara. As you should know, that lofty, invincible station is referred to as 'shihaisha.' You may use that if you like."
His lips press together tightly, as if fighting every impulse, smoldering in captive annoyance with every point of the compass other than his own sentiment. A full and awkward thirty seconds later, he relents.
".....Shiryuu is fine, for the time being."
A look is shot over to Kurou quickly. "...But she isn't authorized to do as she likes with my address," he grouses. She absolutely is.
Consciously, Shiryuu is folding his arms by the time Kurou and Umie are cleared on some of the critical details of understanding, hands stuffed tightly into the crooks as the matter of the snacks are settled, and he can only calm down in slight, incremental degrees as he's given the opportunity to naturally view how these two will interact with one another independent of his supervision. Mmm. He almost doesn't even notice Akabane when she takes his number. It's such a small matter of --
"Ohh.." Shiryuu rests his eyes on the cord-wrapped frames in Akabane's hands, the trickle of sound vibrant with a particular, peculiar kind of muted delight in curiosity. "I don't recall there being such a fine cord with them bef--"
And then Shiryuu almost leaps out of his skin when she touches him.
Touching the shihaisha without permission is the sort of crime that people pay for with their hands, and it almost seems like that's the case when Ryouhara's hand snaps to, instinctively catching Umie by a wrist as she brushes his hair aside to carefully slide the frames over his temples, past the feathered strands of grey in his eyes. For a single, spinning moment, the shihaisha stands there, in locked position, briskly, painfully aware that his kouhai is watching.
Luckily, he doesn't have his sword with him. One less decision he has to make. Breathing outward seems to take forever. ".....iih.."
Shiryuu's expression calms, subtly resting into the motion and allowing Umie her moment. He never -actually- releases her, the tiny give in his grip only enough for that little, tiny act, and luckily both of his eyes are now hidden behind a sheen of dark glass, otherwise there'd be a context to his eyebrows being buried somewhere at the top of his skull before they settle.
Only when her hand actually drops away does he release it, with a corvid quirk of his head, his earrings shifting position with the motion.
"...hm." He seems pleased at her satisfaction.
"...Thank you," Ryouhara says, raising a hand to his mouth discreetly as to suppress a cough that never comes. "Kurou. This is the most highest quality of sublunar visual protection," he finally explains. "Second only to Nahara's ninkou. Akabane should be celebrated for her grace in retaining them for me.."
As if that was the end of the matter, the boy turns away to hide any further ungraciousness on his part. "Mmm. With the matter settled... I'll leave things in your hands for now. Please enjoy your cake."
He never specifies -who- he's leaving things to.
<Pose Tracker> Kurou Ryouhara has posed.
Kurou returns the look Shiryuu gives him, but finds himself at a loss at what it means for Umie to not be authorized with a name she has just been given permission to use. Truly, there are aspects of socialization he still needs to observe and learn.
Even Umie congratulates Kurou for his top apartment scores! He has truly down a good job. He bows to her again. "Thank you. I will put the same efforts into maintaining this space while I am here."
Is it possible some time in her apartment will teach him that his own takes a lot more work to maintain than it ought to? Is this part of Shiryuu's plan? Can Kurou's obstinance be thwarted by such combined finesse and deception?
At the very least, Umie is about to have more fruits and vegetables in her fridge.
She even offers to let him help paint.
"... I would be happy to assist you, Akabane-san." It sounds like it might be a polite agreement on the surface, but perhaps Kurou stating he is happy is one of the few ways he can earnestly express it. His fascination with her masks is not meant to be a secret. "I... do struggle with some subjects, but I will try not to be burdensome."
There's still a student Seki-kun gave him the information of. Kurou ought to contact him, but it's been difficult to find the time now that school has started again. Detainment and execution are of greater priority.
Umie has a gift for Shiryuu...? Kurou watches this exchange in perfect silence. His thoughts draw in this new and strange data. The color dusting Shiryuu and Umie's cheeks. The patterns of their interactions until now. How Shiryuu gives permission for his first name. The close proximity as Umie gives him her gift. How Shiryuu concedes to it. How Shiryuu had made protecting Umie the highest order he had...
"I understand," he says to Shiryuu, almost absently. Yes, the importance of the lenses, but...
...
'... /we'll have cake!/'
Kurou snaps out of his contemplative analysis. Cake...