The Mess in the Other Room

Somehow, Mako held onto composure until she made it out of the room.

It's started to disintegrate pretty much as soon as she's safely out of Ms. Nakayama's field of vision. Oh, her yukata and hair and makeup are still perfect, but when she comes into the kitchen it's with the none of the gliding grace of earlier. No, Mako arrives in the hurried fluster of one making an escape, a flurry of fluttering yukata sleeves.

"What was he thinking?" Stopping just into the kitchen, wide-eyed and breathless, she presses her hand - still clutching Nakayama's phone - against her chest. Where she can feel her heart hammering. "What was I thinking?"

In the kitchen, Nephrite is also still immaculately dressed. His suit is still spotless, his hair falling in glossy waves, his shirt collar artfully hanging open. And his hand is practically dripping with chocolate. He is currently in the process of chewing up an entire cream puff, which he shoved whole into his mouth. He couldn't have them before the meeting, he couldn't have them during the meeting, and if he focuses on devouring the leftovers now, maybe he can refrain from laughing so loud that they hear him all the way over in Osaka.

He grins at Makoto around a whole lot of whipped cream. "That--" he takes a moment to finish swallowing. "That was both the most amazing and most hilarious thing I have ever witnessed. I felt like I was on the set of The Godfather. Is she pissing herself yet?"

"She might be." Makoto's response shivers out of her in a rush of repressed giggling. Freed of the need to keep her composure, she's suddenly jittery, all the reactions she was holding in coming out all at once. "Zoi decided to take over being terrifying at her after you left. There's no telling what she thinks any of us are now. Here." Still trying to catch her breath, she moves toward him, crossing the kitchen with the mincing steps that are all the yukata will allow and offering him the phone. "Present for you. We have to give it back before she leaves, though, so don't break it."

"Well Zoi doesn't really have to try to be terrifying, so I'll be shocked if she's not cowering within the next five minutes."

Then she tells him of the phone. "Ooh, for me? How generous!" Chocolate is hastily licked from fingers and--yes, okay, he properly washes his hands after that, because some things are not a good idea in a nice suit, and chocolatey fingers is one of them.

When he is properly cleaned up, he accepts the phone--but not without folding his other hand over hers. He looks down at Makoto, not at the phone in her hand. "You look amazing in that yukata. That's why I had to come running in here. I practically fell apart the moment I saw you." He smirks. "Guess I'm not so good at the subtle intrigue."

Predictably enough, Makoto blushes bright pink at the compliments, lowering her gaze with a smile both pleased and embarrassed. "Thank you," she manages to say. "You look good no matter what, but that's a nice suit." She finally has opportunity to admire it properly - she couldn't look at him at all while that whole performance was going on, and before their guest arrived she'd been too busy with preparations to pause.

Another giddy little laugh bubbles out of her when she looks up again, still pink-cheeked. "I'm no good at this stuff either," she agrees ruefully. "I don't know how I didn't lose it in there. The last few minutes are kind of a blur. How did I let niisan even talk me into all this again?"

"Well," Nephrite says cheerfully, "he needed people who can be convincingly intimidating while also being classy as heck. I think you've got both of those nailed down." He can't help but admire her now that he's allowed to. Admire the different kind of beauty she is right now (because she is always beautiful, in an apron or a sailor skirt or anything else). Something about the bright, pale green brings out a softer side to her.

"Did I miss anything else good? Besides Zoi being terrifying."

This isn't helping Mako stop blushing at all. Still fidgety with pent-up energy, she moves a little closer, sidling to where she can lean against his arm. "Mamoru-niisan asked me to take out her recorders," she says, looking up to meet Nephrite's eyes with an expression that says she still quite can't believe all of this. "I've never done anything like that before, not without transforming. I think it worked, though. That's how I ended up with her phone."

Makoto pauses there for a moment, taking in a deep breath. It does nothing at all to help steady her; she ends up giggling again as she breathes out. "If he ever pulls something like this again, remind me not to let him talk me into it. But take pictures."

Nephrite grins at her. "Of course it worked! You're the goddess of thunder, in or out of henshin."

But he's giggling now too, and his hand has to clap over his mouth, because he is not a quiet laugher and Mamoru would be so disappointed if he wrecked everything after they'd almost managed to pull it all off. "When Zoi started acting like a French aristocrat--oh, and when Mamoru went all Endy on her--"

He takes a breath, eyes lighting up, when she mentions pictures. "Wait. She should have a recording, right?" He starts scrolling through the phone apps. "Can't we save it? Before we delete it? We can't let this go to waste."

Nephrite starting to laugh sends Mako into a brief dismayed fluster, and there's a frantic moment or two where she's trying to shush him even as he's putting his hand over his own mouth - half out of fear that they'll hear him, but mostly because he's setting her off again.

By the time he's working on raiding the phone for recorded material, she's given up and is trying to hide her face against his upper arm. "I don't now," she answers him, muffled and still half laughing. "She had a couple of gadgets on her, I felt them. Zoi has the others, I think."

The correct app is not too difficult to find, given that it is appropriately named and still open. And still recording, in fact. "Hey, it's still going. Say hi!" He grins down at the phone. "I am hereby salvaging this brilliant performance in the name of art."

Briefly, Nephrite considers saying something further. Possibly about how tempted he is to play this over a loudspeaker at Mamoru's wedding. But that might actually result in revenge of some kind, and anyway, somewhere amidst all the amazing performance acts is some serious personal Kunzite stuff. He can figure out later how he'll annoy everyone in the apartment with this while refraining from leaking the heavy stuff. For now, he ends the recording and rushes to upload it to a secure file server. "Man, this lady struck gold and she'll never know it. I'll she'll know is that she just entered the apartment of five of the most beautifully terrifying people she's ever seen."

"What?" Makoto yelps, and immediately covers her mouth to stifle herself before they really are heard in the other room. "It's still - no, turn it off! What if it's backing up somewhere?"

The prospect is enough to add an almost panicky edge of alarm to Mako's expression as she stares at Nephrite and whatever it is he's doing with the phone. If Nakayama realizes she's been had--

Nephrite's eyebrows shoot up. "...That would be bad, wouldn't it?"

He'd called her the goddess of thunder. That could be a euphemism, right? What else did they say that could have given something away?

Probably enough for a reasonably smart person to figure out that they are definitely not paid employees of Mamoru Chiba.

Nephrite ignores the very real ball of dread forming in his stomach. "Okay. Wait. Let's take a look at the recording device. We don't even know if it could do that."

The panicky flailing subsides, but Mako's eyes are still anxious. "I have no idea," she admits, eyeing the phone again. "I didn't even think... ugh, that was dumb." She reaches up, almost presses her hand over her eyes, but remembers all the work Zoi did on her makeup and stops herself. "Sorry, Neph. Can you see anything?"

Maybe Zoisite should have been the one to handle the phone stuff. This is decidedly not his area of expertise. "Okay, wait, I'm looking at the settings. It's... I think... it says it backs up when there's wifi." He stares, wide-eyed, at Makoto. "So if it doesn't have a wifi signal, it won't upload anything right? And since somebody kept marathoning baby animal youtube videos on the downstairs neighbor's wifi and made him finally lock it down, everything you can get here is password protected. So I think it's okay. As long as I delete it before then."

He lets out a breathless laugh. "It's fine. Okay. I'm deleting it. Let's maybe not tell them that I almost told the lady everything we're doing via phone."

A breath Makoto hadn't quite realized she was holding rushes out of her. Gripping at Nephrite's arm, she smiles up at him, unsteady with relief. "My lips are sealed," she promises. "Nobody needs to know." Especially since it was her fault to begin with.

The tension releases as quickly as it came on; Mako sags a little, shaking her head. "Geez. I think today might've taken a year off my life."

The source of concern suddenly gone as quickly as it was there, Nephrite sags against her, silent giggles shaking his frame. "I know, right? This is way more stressful than the times when we get to just punch things."

Tossing the phone on the counter (not so roughly as to break it, of course, but not exactly gently), he cannot help reaching up to gently prod at her perfectly-arranged hair. "Anyway, it's not all bad. I got to see you like this. Looks like I owe you another fancy date so we can get all dressed up for fun again."

"Hey!" Mako takes a playful swipe at Nephrite's hand as he pokes at her hair, not with any real intent of connection. "Cut it out, I still have to go back out there to give the lady her phone back." Assuming she can pull herself together in time. Maybe they can send it back out with Zoisite instead?

"I wouldn't look nearly this good if Zoi hadn't helped," she adds after a moment, but she's blushing faintly again, once more looking pleased. "Not that I'd ever want to miss a chance to go out with you, dressed up or not."

Nephrite continues to chuckle as his hand is swatted away, but does not make another attempt. He knows when he's been chastised. "Zoi might've made your hair defy physics, but the looking good part is all you."

He hums to himself. "I'd love to share the burden, but I think I've just proven that we should not try to go out there at the same time again. Anyway, at least your character relies on being both intimidating and intimidatingly beautiful. If you smile a bit, she won't think that's strange. But I'm just a buff bodyguard. A German one. Maybe I need to channel my inner Kunzite?" He puts on an exaggerated dour expression. "Am I doing it? Do I look like I hate fun?"

If the fit of sputtering giggles that face sends Mako into is any indication, no, the attempt at channeling his inner Kunzite is not quite working out. At least, the man himself doesn't typically set her off like this.

"Stop, stop," she gasps, trying desperately to smother her laughter. "They're gonna hear me--!" Yeah, they're going to have to get Zoisite to take Nakayama back her phone.

It takes Makoto a good several seconds before she can start to breathe again. "--is that what that was before?" she manages to ask. "German?"

Nephrite hesitates. "Uh, yeah. I don't know much of it, but I know some useful phrases. I'm not really sure when I picked it up." The only thing he really does know is that it came in handy on occasion. When he was running Dark Kingdom business outside the country. Did he pick it up when he was in the Dark Kingdom or before? The only thing he can be sure of is that he did not know what he should have called the Pidgey in German, and that is obviously sad.

"Anyway," he brightens again, "I vote we stay here and eat cream puffs. Mamoru will thank me for staying far away from where I can inevitably ruin his genius plan."

Makoto, meanwhile, seems more impressed than anything... although his hesitance hasn't entirely escaped her. "I'm for this plan," she agrees with a firm nod. "I don't think I can be any more help anyway, trying to do more would just be tempting fate."

With this decision made, she leans to snag a cream puff, holding it carefully with her fingertips and mindful of the sleeves of her yukata. "That was really cool though," she adds, bright-eyed with sincere admiration. "The German. I was thinking it might've been English, but it didn't seem quite right... I'm, ah, pretty terrible with languages." Her smile goes rather sheepish at this last admission.

"English is kind of similar, yeah," he says automatically. This he knows very well. And still is not entirely sure why he knows. He swipes another chocolate cream puff. "But that's okay, I can barely boil water, let alone make startlingly wonderful pastries."

He licks yet more chocolate from his fingers. "So where should I take you that lives up to the perfection of that yukata? Fancy restaurant? Botanical gardens? Tea house?"

"Hmm..." Makoto draws the sound out, long and thoughtful, considering the question while she nibbles on the cream puff. Once the pastry's gone, it's her turn to lick chocolate and cream off her fingers, still considering.

"Festival?" she suggests after a moment more. "I think the shopping district near my apartment is having one this weekend. That's not very fancy, I guess, but it'd be nice to hit one before the break is over." Very briefly, she looks a little wistful. "Too bad with everything else going on I missed Tanabata completely."

"Ooh, a festival?" Nephrite's eyes light up. "What's it like? Do they have lots of stalls? Can we eat something deep fried?" He can't recall ever having been to a festival before, but years of TV have built them up into some kind of magical event for him. "It does suck we missed Tanabata, though. That's the one about the stars, right? That would have been great."

He shrugs. "Ah well, there will be other years, right? Let's do the one this weekend! Although--" he looks down at himself. "Am I supposed to wear a yukata too?"

Mako's head dips in a little nod of confirmation. "The star festival, yeah. But you're right, there'll be other chances."

She pauses to regard Nephrite for a moment or two, eyebrows lifting slightly. "I'm kind of surprised niisan didn't already have you on the yukata bandwagon. You know, as an alternative to having to wear pants around the house." She's trying not to grin, but she can't keep the teasing sparkle out of her eyes. "You don't have to, though. It's not like there's a dress code for a street festival. Anyway, there will definitely be food stalls, and probably games... rigged, of course, but it'll be fun. It's not right to go through the whole summer and not visit a single festival."

"Hey now, I don't need any alternatives to avoid wearing pants. I can do that all on my own." Nephrite gives her a grin. "Ooh games! I can try to win you a prize! Or more likely, you will win me a prize. Prizes will be had, in some fashion."

He sighs, leaning against the counter. "I hope Mamoru's plan really does work, though, because this whole thing is weird. I can't see Kunzite having a dad, can you? Like, he is a dad. He sprang fully-formed in dad form from a pile of dirt. No way is there a higher-ranking dad over him."

"Alternatives that don't have all the other guys complaining at you," Mako tosses back, but she's laughing and shaking her head. At least until that sigh comes out of him and he changes the subject.

The new topic isn't as funny.

"I don't know," Makoto admits. "It's not that I can't imagine it, but... It does worry me a little. What kind of person do you suppose his dad is, spinning that whole story about him being a violent drug addict or whatever?" It bothers her - or at least something about the whole sitation bothers her, dampening the mirth of moments before.

Nephrite shrugs. "Sounds like a huge jerk to me. Or maybe he just thought it would help him find his son faster." He picks at his sleeve, adjusting the cuffs, fidgeting. "But that doesn't matter, because we're here now, right? We're all here, and we made our lives together, and the guy Kazuo's dad is looking for isn't the guy he remembers."

Vaguely, Nephrite is aware that he's acting agitated over nothing. It's not like he's at risk of the same thing happening to him, right? Of some estranged family member he doesn't know tracking him down. Lightning probably won't strike twice.

...Thinks the guy standing next to the thunder goddess.

Makoto makes a quiet, noncommittal sound, watching Nephrite fuss with his sleeve. "It's complicated, I guess."

She turns her back against the edge of the counter and reaches for his arm again, settling her hand lightly against it in a whisper of kimono sleeve. "He doesn't really think of himself as Kazuo, does he? I'm not sure any of us do. Even if his dad really is just worried, I'm sure it'd be awkward for Kunzite to meet with him."

Quiet follows those words, for the space of a breath or two, as Makoto looks down, biting her lip uncertainly. "It's just..."

She can't quite bring herself to finish the sentence.

No, they don't think of him as Kazuo. Just as Nephrite can only be Nephrite. All the fake names he made for himself sounding strange when anyone calls him by them. If he has another name out there, he's not sure it would fit him anymore either.

Her hand on his arm is enough to still him. Not chase away all his gnawing anxiety, but quiet it somewhat. He lays his other hand over hers, brow crinkling as she looks down. "Just what?"

It takes Mako a bit to answer, and even then she doesn't look up. She seems to be struggling with the words; her voice comes out quietly, faintly strained. "...Do you know... what I'd give, for the chance to see my dad again? My mom? Even - even if I'm not who they'd remember any more, even if there were things I couldn't tell them about. Just for a few minutes?"

Her head ducks a little more. The hand that's not on his arm comes up, starting towards her eyes with a handful of sleeve, but then Makoto remembers her makeup again and she falters, lets her hand fall impotently back down. "It's not the same thing," she says, "I know. I just - there's a part of me that can't understand it. Knowing you have family out there, and not even trying..."

The hand over hers squeezes now. "Oh heavens. I'm sorry. I'm being an asshole." He has to be careful--of her yukata, her makeup, her perfect hair--so when he goes to hold her, it is like he is holding a fragile thing.

"I'm sorry. I just don't... I don't want anyone taking me away from you. And I think that's how Kazuo feels too. This is the only family that I have. I don't want somebody I've never met trying to take all that away."

As he's apologizing, Makoto immediately shakes her head - no, he's not being an asshole, he doesn't need to apologize. His arms come up around her and she turns in toward him, leaning gratefully into that so-careful embrace.

"I know," she says, a little thickly. "It's different for you guys, not remembering or anything. And maybe Kazuo's dad isn't a good person, maybe they never had a good relationship anyway... I don't know. There's families like that, too."

Though it hurts the heart to think of.

He nods over her head. "But that doesn't make it easier, does it? Watching him refuse something you want so much. So, I am sorry. I didn't mean to disregard how you'd feel about it."

He's not sure he understands, either. The beginning of his life is just a blank spot, not something he can pin down feelings for. He's not sure how he's supposed to feel about whatever family he might have out there. They're just an abstract concept. But he does know what it feels like to lose someone, even if that someone is now safely back in his arms.

"It's all right," Makoto murmurs, calmer now within the shelter of his arms. "I don't think I quite realized myself how much it was bothering me, until just now." She tips her head back to look up at him, offering a halfhearted smile. "You didn't do anything wrong."

She lets out a quiet sigh, leaning in against his chest. At this point, it doesn't seem to matter if she gets a little rumpled. "Kunzite needs to do what will be best for him... not what I'd do in his place. The same for you, whatever that turns out to be."

"Well right now, what's best for me is being here with you." He leans down and plants a kiss on her forehead. That's a safe enough place for him not to smudge, right? "Also cream puffs." he leans over and picks up yet another one and shoves it whole in his mouth. Because sometimes, there is nothing better to say, so you might as well eat a cream puff instead.

That gets a quiet laugh, warm and pleased and affectionate, and the smile on Makoto's face becomes rather less wan. "Well," she says, with a fresh flush of faint pink rising in her cheek from the forehead kiss, "I'd be pretty stupid to argue with that."

There's a little smudge of chocolate at the corner of his mouth. Mako is still for a moment, before she extricates one hand enough to reach up and carefully wipe it away. "I love you, Nephrite."

He turns his head and closes his mouth around her fingertips with a "nom!" Can't let any of that precious chocolate go to waste. He smiles, at the way she says his name and the way she looks at him. "I love you, Mako. Always."