[August 29] [Kidoukeisatsu Patlabor] The Cards on the Table

[lilacfield.livejournal.com]

Title: The Cards on the Table
Day/Theme: August 29 - Colored is the rose of spring, white the rose of December.
Series: Kidoukeisatsu Patlabor
Characters: Nagumo, Tsuge
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Kidoukeisatsu Patlabor © Yuuki Masami, et al.


When she discovered that he was married, she asked him why he never told her before, and if he had taken off his wedding ring on purpose.

Would that have made a difference? he asked with a scientist's clinical curiosity.

You bastard, she replied forcefully. You just don't give a damn about how this will affect my future career, do you?

I love you, he said.

She left, slamming the apartment door behind her.

Two days later he sent her a bouquet of flowers and a letter of apology. The delivery service told him that she had moved.

---

His name and hers came up in the investigation, and it almost frightened her that she was not as surprised as she ought to be. Sometimes when you expected the worst of somebody your suspicions came true, that was all.

Gotou watched her from the corner of his eye, thoughtfully dragging on his cigarette; he knew her too well to raise the question.

---

Hundreds of birds, taking flight, their wings deafening, their feathers drifting in the wind along with the snow.

She stepped forward, her finger stiff on the trigger, her heartbeat calm and regular. He was contemplating the city and the rising smoke before him with a detachment she had seen one time too many; he loved experiments, the unfolding of the results, the thrill of being an accomplished spectator. Her heart melted at the memory of the girl who fell for that thoughtful, calculating streak.

When she spoke his name, he turned dark unreadable glasses to her. There were more lines around his mouth, and his skin had attained the dry look that came from exposure to rough weather.

"Shinobu," he said.

She lowered the gun and reached for his wrist.

"Nothing as beautiful as a city burning in the midst of winter?" she murmured.

Gently he took her hands in his. She held her breath, waiting for the verbal punch in the gut. Instead he tightened his clasp, smiling with his mouth.

"I used to know something even more beautiful," he said. "But I wouldn't tell you what it was. It's so typical of me, wouldn't you say?"

A dull, unfamiliar grief abruptly swept over her. On her right, a single bird, forgotten by its comrades, was shooting upward and into the thick gray sky.