Rating: PG-13 (Has a nice, fresh limey scent at times. ^.^)
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. Do I look rich to you? :p
Dawn lends the horizon a pale pink glow as the sun peeks hesitantly over the rim of the earth. A gentle breeze is blowing now, but the day promises to be another sultry summer affair. I stop and wipe the perspiration worked up by my morning jog from my forehead with the back of a similarly sweaty hand. Catching my breath, I squint at the tall buildings lining the street, as yet uninhabited by busy crowds due to the earliness of the hour. Usually I am able to awaken Kojiro and bring him along with me, but this morning I was unable to rouse him in time.
I smile, beginning to jog back home as I think of Kojiro. My husband.
For six months we have been living here in Midori Town, where we have gone to escape Rocket-Dan. And so far it appears to be working; we have seen no one we recognize, and no one has asked after us. Perhaps Sakaki really did let us go without a second thought. It isn't as though he really needs us.
I try to think on happier things as I continue on down the pavement, scattering a flock of Pidgey which are only bold enough to fly into town in the early morning hours. Instead, I think of getting home, of my husband and what he will want to do this morning. I pick up my pace somewhat.
Our apartment is much better than our home of one week in Tokiwa City, even if it is not perfect. We were lucky enough to get the money loaned to us so that we could find the apartment. Now we pay the rent out of the money we earn. Honestly earned money. That is something I never thought of without scorn before six months ago.
I work as a waitress at the Sakura Café in Sakura Square, a very reputable place. Six days a week I wait tables eight hours a day, and on Friday I have the day off. Which is why I jog at dawn on this day, with Kojiro usually, except when I can't drag the lazy man out of bed. I smile again.
Kojiro had asked me to marry him shortly after we had secured our apartment, and he barely got the words out before I said yes. It was a small wedding, of course, since most of the rest of our borrowed money went toward the rings. But I can never remember being happier.
Kojiro is now an illustrator for various magazines as well as books when he is offered them. He astonished me with his ability to draw; I had never known it before, but he is a wonderful artist. Some of the drawings he had done while we were in Rocket-Dan made me blush, however. I never knew he had such strong feelings for me, and managed to keep them hidden so well. The best part of his job is that he can do it at home, relieving the worry I feel I think of him in a stuffy office job. That environment wouldn't suit him.
At last I reach the apartment building, trying to be stealthy as I sneak up the slightly rickety stairs. I push open the door to our apartment slowly and peek in. I hadn't locked it when I left - our neighborhood is very safe. Seeing no one inside, I hurry in and close the door. The apartment came modestly furnished, a futon and an ancient-looking television in the main room, a table and various appliances in the kitchen, a low bed in the bedroom. Those are the only three rooms in our apartment, besides the bathroom, so it is very comfortable for two people.
I head to the shower, but on my way pause to look in on Kojiro. He is still asleep, sprawled over half the bed, his blue hair in wild disarray on his pillow. I bite back a laugh; his hair is usually so neat, tied back in a ponytail the way he keeps it now that it has grown longer. When I suggest that he cut it, he always says no. Tiptoeing in for a moment, I quickly kiss his cheek. I am almost afraid I have woken him, but he just smiles dreamily and rolls over to burrow deeper into the sheets.
I continue on to my shower, stripping off my jogging suit along the way. The hot water feels good even though I am fairly hot myself; it drips heavily from my hair, now cut much shorter to make it easier to fix in the morning. Lost in enjoyment of the blissful spray, I am startled by a head poking in around the curtain.
"Kojiro! What are you doing? You should be in bed," I scold, pretending to be modest and cover myself. He just smiles sleepily.
"Good morning, Musashi," is all he has to say.
"Good morning. Now go," I command, and he does after his eyes linger a moment, tracing the lines of my body. I can feel my cheeks tingling as I hurry faster. The look in his eyes, sleepy or not, was unmistakable.
Once finished, I dry off and comb my hair out straight before wrapping myself in a towel. My plan is to be seductive as I approach the bedroom door. But when I see him, that thought leaves my mind completely.
Kojiro is laying on his back on the bed, wearing nothing but a bowl balanced on his chest, which he eats out of contentedly. After staring a moment, I step closer and can see he is eating the strawberries we had saved for this morning's breakfast. Things like fruit are a rare treat; we usually just eat rice twice a day to save money. With his eyes closed he doesn't notice me, so I walk closer to him and stand with my arms folded disapprovingly.
"Kojiro-chan," I say in a way that makes his eyes pop wide open. "Weren't half of those mine?"
He eyes the half-empty bowl, then guiltily put the strawberry he had taken one bite of back in. "Yes, Musashi-san," he says meekly, playing along with me.
I sigh and shake my head. "I don't know what to do with you sometimes," I tell him, swatting his leg before climbing up to sit astride his stomach. I pluck strawberries out of the bowl and eat them as he watches; he makes such a face that I give him another just to see him smile again. Then he just gazes up at me fondly.
"You know, Musashi... leaving Rocket-Dan has done good things for you."
"Like what?" I question around a mouthful of strawberry.
"You're not so mean and nasty," he giggles. I lift an eyebrow and toss the empty bowl aside, leaning down to stare him in the eyes.
"I can still put you in your place, you know that."
"I know," he says, unfazed by my mock glaring. "How was your run?"
"It was great... you weren't there to whine about being tired or to slow me up."
"Oh... So you're saying you don't want to take me anymore," he says sulkily.
"Don't pout," I reply, kissing his nose. "You just wouldn't get up." He still looks grumpy until I throw off my towel. "Whose turn is it?" I whisper into his ear, my voice silky smooth in a way I know he can't resist.
"Mine," he replies instantly, his eyes lighting up as he looks at me.
"Alright..." I climb down as he takes over. He is surprisingly gentle when it comes to such things, more gentle than I ever am when it is my "turn", but I enjoy it just as much.
An hour later, we both kneel at our kitchen table, fully clothed and sipping freshly brewed mint tea in companionable silence. Granted, I am not wearing my own clothes, having found Kojiro's much more comfortable on my days off. And the look he gets on his face when he sees me strolling around in his baggy undergarments is priceless.
With a contented sigh, I waft the scent of my tea up to my nose with one hand, exhilirating in the smell I love so much. As I sip at it slowly, I notice over the rim of my cup that my husband is engaging in his anoying habit of stirring his tea with a forefinger, in what usually appears to be an absent-minded gesture. Several times before he has burnt a finger while forgetting it is still hot. Which results in me lecturing him on thinking before he does things, all the while he is sucking his burnt finger and managing to look so pathetic that my lecture dies out midway.
I sigh. Leaving Rocket-Dan may have changed me in the ways Kojiro claims it did; yet it has also changed him slightly. Not necessarily in a good way. He seems at times to be more scatterbrained and likely to forget things, along with sometimes being more obstinate than I ever remember him being before. Not that it makes me love him any less.
"What was that for?"
With a start, I turn my attention back to Kojiro, who is looking at me curiously, finger still dipped in his tea. "What was what for?"
"The sigh." He leans closer to me over the table.
"Nothing. I was thinking. Drink," I tell him, realizing that he hasn't even taken a sip yet. Looking at his cup like he had never seen it there before, he blinks a few times before withdrawing his finger with a muttered apology and hastily downs half of it's contents. Another thing I have noticed: He seems particularly eager to please me when it seems that I might be upset with him.
"Mmm... You know Musashi, I wish Nyasu was here to share this with us," he says next, folding his hands carefully in an obvious attempt to keep his fingers away from his cup.
"He can't be, you know that," I say reprovingly, taking another sip from my own.
"I know, but..." Now, he is the one to sigh. "I wonder how Matadogas is doing with it's new trainer..."
I frown inwardly. When we decided to leave Tokiwa City, we had needed traveling money. And all we had to sell for money was our Pokémon. Kojiro was heartbroken over it, as I was, but we had to sell all of them. Yet I wonder why he is bringing the subject up.
"Kojiro, are you trying to depress yourself?" I question.
He peers into his tea as though expecting to find the answer I want to hear there. "No..." he finally says. "I just miss having Pokémon around, is all..."
I reflect on how sad he looks as I reach across the table to tuck strands of loose hair behind his ears. I have made it a personal mission of mine to keep my husband from becoming depressed; instead of yelling at him like I might have a long time ago, I try my best to be comforting.
"You know... What kind of life would a Pokémon have with us now? The way we live... It wouldn't get much exercise and we can barely afford to feed ourselves... Maybe when we're in a better situation, we can think about Pokémon."
"You're right, of course, Musashi-chan," he says, perking up a bit. "You always are," he then starts in fondly.
I know where this is headed. He is about to become syrupy sweet and coy until I let him have what he wants. And I can see what he wants from me again quite plainly. Of course, as he reaches across the table to caress my cheek, he manages to spill both his tea and mine. Now I can yell at him.
Yes... This is our life, such as it is now.
