Hazy Thoughts [Closed/Tomie]

That is not a name and a face I expected to hear and see today.

These are the thoughts that immediately pop into the madam's mind as Mai approaches her in her personal quarters, still wearing nothing but a morning yukata. Her hair is not even moderately fixed at the moment, hanging in loose strands down her back. Only two ribbons are attached to each side of her scalp. These are for the most part allowed to remain on her head regardless of what she does, as they seldom bother her, due to them not particularly constricting. Of course, she thus looks quite silly when Mai enters the room after excusing herself, but pays no mind to her own perceived underdressedness. Although sloppily dressed and without her characteristic red lipstick, she doesn't feel indecent whatsoever. After all, she's wearing some clothes and the girls are used to seeing her at, well, not quite her prime.

There appears to be an outsider that wants to see her right now. One who goes by the name of "Kasumi Shinoda". It's not a name Tomie wants to hear so early in the morning that the birds have even started chattering about outside. Especially not after the last thing that had happened involving the girl and her brutish companion. The repairs she had to perform to the interior of the building had been extensive. The financial aspect of the situation doesn't bother her too much, as she has plenty of kan to spend, but the fact that they had, as far as she is able to understand, brought these thugs into her brothel in the first place still bothers her.

Even if they claim to not have done so.

Regardless, it would be insanely improper of her to just turn away a guest like that, even if she doesn't want to meet the white-haired brat right now. Perhaps she has some sort of important business or message from Seireitei, like Hideaki had. Though, she finds it rather unlikely, since the hussy had dropped by on her own volition the other times she had decided to pay her a visit. Maybe she just wants to have breakfast in peace this time around.

With a heartfelt sigh, she gets up from the table where she had been sitting, cup of tea in hand, and slips her feet into a pair of convenient zori, which are far more suitable than the okobo in the morning. She knows that she doesn't look particularly presentable today, but right now, vanity is not exactly on her agenda. Shinoda will just have to accept that she doesn't look half-presentable all the time.

Upon leaving her room, the madam is immediately greeted by the sight of the petite girl, with some sort of paper bag in hand. That's a strange bento box if I've ever seen one. Well, what can one expect from some kid that likely lives alone and makes her own food? Gesticulating for the girl to come towards her with one hand while sipping some of the tea she had brought with her, she proceeds to retreat to her own personal chambers with the girl in tow.

She is off-duty today, so she can't be bothered to arrange for an official suite today. Mai has promised to take care of whatever business has to be done and would only consult her if she is either uncertain or if the customers personally request her, which is apparently the case of Shinoda.

The girl is unusually quiet today, silently following Tomie as she makes her way into the room. It seems something is troubling her, just like last time she had visited. Perhaps she still feels guilt over the things she had done? "Good morning." The words are uttered between two sips of tea, monotone and quite groggy. It is evident the woman is not entirely awake yet. Without further clarification, the girl reaches into the bag and hands her some sort of box.

Reluctantly, she grabs it, eyes cautiously eyeing whatever she has just been handed. "What is this?" Eyes dart up to the girl again as she sits down on a cushion near a table with various paper trinkets and ink houses occupying most of the space. Reaching out her hand, she points to a seat on the opposite side of her position, gesticulating for the girl to sit. Kokoa? Reading on the package, she notices strange brown lumps inside. Why did they write this in Katakana if it's a proper noun?

"I sincerely appreciate the gesture, Miss Shinoda, but... I am not quite certain what you have just handed me." She flips the box around, examining it further. Is this some Western type of thing?

"Why have you come here?" Blunt, much more than she usually tends to be. She is still looking at the box, before putting it down, not paying the white-haired child too much attention until a single eye glancing from the side peers into her. "Is something troubling you?"

Sinking away in the pillow Kasumi hoped that she wasn't bothering Tomie too much this early in the morning. While the latter turned the box with the sweets in her hands, she quietly studied the trinkets and various other things that stood on the table. From the kanji to the form of the cup and the half hidden brush she could see peering from beneath a scroll; the girl's eyes quickly drank it all in. A certain curiosity oozed from Kasumi's presence as she tried to read one of the scrolls, though being tired and rather nervous she gave up and leaned back.

Soon her attention was directed at Tomie once again. Due to some reason the woman hadn't been able to recognize the sweets. Kasumi's eyes quickly widened in surprise. Though, the only thing that came from her lips were the next few words: “Those are sweets.”

And then she went back to her unusual, silent self.

From Tomie back to the table her eyes flew, then drooped a little as she stifled a little yawn with one of her sleeves. Being far from the Second – and from the Seireitei in general – gave her a feeling of relaxation. She rubbed her right eye with the back of her hand for a brief moment and then let out a deep sigh. Bit by bit the anxiousness from before was fading. Perhaps it was Vör's doing, perhaps not. Whatever had smothered her panic, she was grateful for it.

Bad things happened, but she wouldn't allow herself to hurt Tomie.
With a firm push from her Spirit Kasumi inwardly nodded, tightly wrapping her doubts and fears with ropes of hope and determination before roughly shoving them aside.

Giving the woman a sneaky look, she quickly realized that it hadn't been as stealthy as she had imagined it to be. Tomie's gaze had tore itself from the box and their eyes soon met. “Because I like it here.”

There was nothing complex about her explanation, and she didn't think that it was necessary to make up an excuse for coming here. Besides, she was terrible at telling lies, especially those she didn't actually want to tell.

While answering why she had come here had been easy, admitting that something was bothering her appeared to be less so. Averting her eyes towards the pillow that she was sitting on the young Shinigami bit on her lip. In truth there were many things troubling her that she didn't even know where to start. Wasn't sure if she wanted to start. What if Tomie was simply asking out of politeness? More importantly, what if talking about certain things would get one of them – or both – in trouble?

Carefully looking up she felt her heart pick up in speed. The idea to talk about what had happened seemed pretty much impossible. Kasumi blanched. “I – I ..” She hesitated. The words were stuck in her throat, uncomfortably scratching against her windpipe before escaping in the form of a weak cough.

'There is nothing wrong with talking.' Of course, communicating was a good thing. And Tomie wasn't a Shinigami! And.. and.. Kasumi couldn't stop staring at the table in front of her. The pounding of her heart echoed in her ears, causing the girl to panic a little while trying to calm down.

Digging her fingers into the pillow she held onto it as if her life depended on it. With knuckles as white as her hair, Kasumi tried to get the anxiety over with. Obviously, it wasn't working out the way she wanted it to.

And then, suddenly, she creaked hoarsely. “..may have done something bad.” There. It was out now.

Shakily letting go of the pillow she sucked in precious air. Having said those simple words left her feeling lighter already. And while her eyes were still directed at the table, she was steadily regaining some of her colour. Slowly shifting her weight, Kasumi took her time adjusting the hairs that had slid over her face before looking up. She honestly wasn't sure what to expect. Tomie had no idea what she had done, and that's why she couldn't possibly judge her actions. In a way that reassured Kasumi because she figured that the tall woman wouldn't throw her out as long as she didn't know about the dead Shinigami.

Blinking a couple of times, she held her breath.
Think about something else, think about all the other things that you can tell her about, think about.. corruption, about family.. about friends and.. drinks. Or food. Sweets.

The list went on until Vör broke the chain and fed Kasumi the necessary amount of strength to continued.

“Have you ever done something wrong? Something you weren't supposed to do?”
Well, now she sure as hell sounded like a runaway. Not that it truly mattered. From all the things that she should be worried about, the possibility of sounding like a whiny kid was the last of them.


Words: 829 – GP 16|| 32

The girl's curiosity seems to be intact, she notes, as she cautiously observes the various items in the room, especially the ones on the table. Usually, the madam would chide anyone who even dared to pry into her personal items, but it is not entirely the girl's fault that she has been invited to the madam's personal chamber out of the blue. There is a hint of a temptation resting on her tongue, a cheeky desire to call the girl out and ask her if she is finding anything interesting. But truth be told, it does not seem like Shinoda is not in the mood for such trifling actions. The entire atmosphere had changed the moment the girl entered the room, as if she sucked out the relaxed energy it contained and replaced it with subtle anxiety.

"Sweets, you say?" She acts surprised, but the tone betrays the fact that she is not. As she suspected, this ought to be some sort of Western hogwash treat made of dirt or the likes. Bleh, tasteless. But is she to be honest, Tomie has to admit, at least to herself, that the white-haired girl would elaborate more about the so-called "kokoa" she had brought her; at least more than just "they are sweets". She has just grown particularly quiet after presenting the remark, fitting with the aura she has brought along with her.

The girl really is in some sort of strange emotional state.

Guilt, as if caught red-handed, is what she detects when confronted with an ulterior motive softened by the appraisal of gifts. "Because I like Moyamoyasumi" is a bleak answer, one with muddled grounds easily knocked away by firm eyes. The girl's frustration grows gradually more intense as the madam's eyes burrow into her. She wants to talk, she can see that. As if the motion of biting her lips would seal them shut, the white-haired child grows more akin to a tense lump with every passing second. This is ridiculous. Has she come here to apologize for staining my walls with blood and can't spit it out? I've had to deal with stubborn people many a times before, but this is taking it to an entirely new level.

With a breach of the seal with a simple pronoun, stuttered, then suffocated, Shinoda seems like a pathetic dog who has just disobeyed its owner, which is what dogs do best. Tomie feels her patience growing thinner in tandem with her own faltering facade growing paler in terms of color, dissatisfied with the current turn of events. "Yes?" The encouragement is slow and steady, reassuring to an extent, but the timing, having been said right after the girl ceases her sentences, betrays the rashness beneath.

The girl grows ever tenser, clinging to the pillow for dear life, the soft material treated like the mast of a sinking ship. Just what has the girl been up to that has caused her this much distress? It certainly isn't asking for forgiveness for messing up the interior of Moyamoyasumi.

Then the sentence in all its guttural anticlimax emerges.

Something bad, she says? She leans in, elbows on the table, kiseru between fingers, eyes piercing the distance between them and zooming in on the girl's face. Guilt-ridden, wide eyes meet the table that separates them, not daring to venture into the clutches of judgment. Only after huffing as if out of breath a few times and gradually letting go off the pillow does she look up and face the realities of having uttered these words.

Something bad, her mind reverberates, pondering upon this particular choice of words. The vagueness has left her wanting more, now wanting to pry into the skull of this child to see what lies beneath, grasping at secrets. Instead, she finds herself analyzing the situation, quietly maintaining the facade of awaiting the perfect opportunity to reply.

Given this girl's already skewed moral compass, as demonstrated by her complete lack of guilt when confronted with her crimes, like the incident with the ivory elephant and more notably, the torture of the prisoner, the severity of "something bad" is likely beyond both of these incidents. Judging by her relief, this appears to be the very first time she ever has come clean regarding whatever she has done, however vague the confession is.

"Nobody is perfect."

The reply to the girl's question is short, bringing the room back to a sort of deafening silence, leaving only the sounds of a fizzling flame on a candle to fill the void. The girl could make out what she wants from the statement, but if she intends to be vague, then so shall the madam.

Alas, one of them has to take the plunge, and as much as it pains her, she knows that the issue can only be resolved with a direct question.

"What did you do, Miss Shinoda?"

The eyes glow still, faintly now, as she probes for information.

Her heart sunk like a stone, she was crawling back into herself as fast as she could, but Tomie managed to get a grip on her before she hit the bottom.

Huh? Raising her gaze, Kasumi slowly tilted her head to the side as if the words didn't really register at first. It was hard to believe that the most horrific deeds could be discarded under the excuse of everyone having their flaws. Swallowing the lump that's been forming in her throat, she hesitantly nodded. An affirmation was given to god knows what, and Kasumi shifted uncomfortably in her seat while trying to gather her thoughts. They were scattered all over the place now, but at least the panic had faded. With some demur she gave another nod. This time her gaze remained on the woman across of her.

'Just tell her. You haven't come this far to turn back now. Besides, you know you want to.' The Spirit was right. She did want to share the burden with someone else, wanted to know that everything would be alright, that she wasn't a monster.

The silence that dragged on was broken by a sharp, single question as the intimidating owner of Moyamoyasumi had run out of patience. Her directness had Kasumi squirming; the girl was worried that Tomie might get mad if she didn't speak up soon, but at the same time couldn't help but to be afraid of what would come once she did speak. It was a vicious cycle she had to break free from one way or another.

“Bakudo #28, Oudanmari.” The kid whispered wide-eyed, casting the spell that would protect them from any eavesdroppers. Bit by bit the little sounds that were barely paid any attention to, disappeared. Only the candle remained, together with their breathing and the rustling of fabric against the table and the cushions when one of them shifted. The artificial silence soothed Kasumi's paranoia about being heard. And with her heart having found its regular rhythm, she spoke carefully.

“This way they won't hear us.” That was, if she had managed to master the spell that was taught to her by Walkren, a Vaizard. Shifting closer to the table, she leaned in while hiding her shaking hands in her lap. The fabric felt unnaturally rough when she tugged at it with her fingers while visibly swallowing again.

What if she'll tell them? The sudden thought brought Kasumi quite close to the edge of complete hysteria. Freezing in place, she stared past the pipe in Tomie's hands at the wall behind her. No, she can't. She hates the Shinigami. Every passing second was pure torture. Firmly closing her eyes the white-haired teenager snapped in an attempt to escape the drowning sensation.

“I've killed a Shinigami!”
Nothing really changed. While she had expected to feel a certain relief, it wasn't there. All that she could think of was whether on not Tomie would throw her out or turn her in. The mere thoughts about it had Kasumi squeeze her eyes shut even harder. In her panic she forgot to breathe, and when her eyes opened again everything was already spinning. As the spell slowly collapsed on itself, sounds from outside started to gradually break through the barrier. From Tomie to the ceiling Kasumi's gaze slid as she tumbled backwards into the pillows. That's when everything turned dark.


'Most people pass out from blood loss, not from stress.' Amused but worried the Spirit tugged at Kasumi's foggy mind as the darkness started to lift. Quite disorientated, and slightly embarrassed, but not as anxious as she was before fainting, the young officer opened her eyes to meet the same ceiling. Or was it another one? At least she didn't find herself outside in the dirt, which meant that Tomie hadn't thrown her out, yet.

Speaking about Tomie.. where was she?
The tall dark haired woman was hard to miss, even when you were barely awake. Going by that logic, Kasumi figured that she either wasn't in the room, or was somewhere behind her. Not on the ground, but behind wherever Kasumi was curling on.

Okay, just get up.
She pushed herself before rolling onto her side and ending up sitting on her legs after comfortably tugging them beneath herself.


Words: 713 – GP14|| 46

Even after imploring the girl to tell her what is bothering her, she seems insistent on not doing so and persist the self-torment she has already subjected herself to. Jeez, this is just getting annoying.

Just as she is about to draw in a heavy sigh once again, Kasumi speaks up.

But these are not the words she had anticipated that the girl would utter. Is this some sort of spell? The chitchat in the other rooms, the tweeting birds, the creaking wood. They all disappear. Only the twitching candle and the white-haired girl's erratic breath remain under this shroud of silence. With lowered brows and gritted teeth, Tomie examines their surroundings. This has to be some sort of noise confinement ability. She has never seen--no, heard anything like it before. The Shinigami sure keep many strange tricks up their sleeves. I can't see where the spell starts and begins. But I suppose it is small enough to just keep us inside.

The white-haired girl scoots even closer to the table, dragging her pillow with her, as to be extra certain that no one can hear that. The entire act comes across as really childish, as if Shinoda is even younger than she actually is. Exasperated, the madam takes a swift drag from the pipe, watching the girl with mild interest. Her guest is even more of a lump of nerves now than before.

Then it comes.

The proclamation of guilt, the confession of her perceived "something bad". The girl's eyes are filled with terror, they shake as she inhales and exhales with a marked sharpness. Tomie sees the feelings on her face, bleak after the shout in the confined box. The flame flickers and fades on the candle as one of the most dreadful moments in Shinoda's life passes. The guest, who is so heartbroken and had felt so alone with her secret until she confided in the madam, her 'friend', must surely be feeling anxious to see how her confidante feels.

But truthfully, Tomie feels nothing.

Her demeanor remains unchanged, still idly smoking from her pipe, distant eyes judging the scene playing out in front of her; it takes more than this to steal her serenity.

She does, however, react once the girl collapses and the sound returns. Hastily, she rises from her seat.

"Shinoda?"



"You're awake."

The remark is quiet, as to not disturb the white-haired girl on the futon too much. The sounds of cautious sipping are barely audible, a result of the woman drinking tea near the table close to the place the white-haired girl is situated. She offers the patient, which is just about what the girl has been reduced to, a fleeting glance before resuming reading through the scroll she had brought out after placing the girl on the bed with the help of Mai, who has vowed to refrain from speaking of this event, in spite of its relatively harmlessness.

"You have been out for almost a day at this point." The bitter tea makes it way down her esophagus as her gaze flits between the contents of the scroll and the bedridden child. Shinoda had arrived at the crack of dawn with those strange, fecal-looking 'sweets' as to appease her after ruining one of her walls and staining it with blood before confessing to murder and now it approached dusk, with the sun barely being visible behind the mountains.

Since she wanted to ensure Shinoda's being of well, for practical reasons, she had given Mai most of the duties for the day with instructions to come to her in case of emergency, but has thankfully remained undisturbed thus far. Most of her day had been spent looking at the child writhe and turn with wincing noises of pain while clearing up budgets and bills, something she usually left for Osana, who is the only non-courtesan employee aside from the chef, Yuriko, but given the vacant slot on her schedule, the madam was perfectly fine doing it on her own.

She looks over to the child, putting the scroll down and rolling it up properly. It seems as if she is coming to her senses again and is about to get up. "Would you care for something to eat or drink? Maybe both?"

// 711 words
// 14 GP
// 46 GP Total

Where am I?

The open window showed nothing but an ashen sky that was quickly turning black. Sand soon seeped through the shattered walls and blood came flowing from the little slits between the wooden boards that were the floor. Kasumi gasped, wanting to jump up from the bed she realized that she was being pulled down by thick, filthy ropes. The curled around her hands and soon she was pulled back into the softness of the blanket that tried to smother her screams.

There is sand in her eyes. She wants to furiously rub them until the tears would clean them from the hellish grains but the ropes bull her arms back into the bed. By now the blood it touching her bare feet, the ones that got pulled from the bed and bend back towards the floor. The liquid is warm. Gradually she sinks away in the boiling blood until it's running down her throat and burning her from the inside out.

Magahara-san? Tomie!? Vör! VÖR!?

Desperately screaming for all she was worth, Kasumi only heard the awkward gurgling of a drowning man.


                                                  Vör? VÖR?

'Calm down. It was a nightmare.'

      But you spoke to me, you we-

'A nightmare.'

Shakily wiping off the layer of cold sweat on her forehead, Kasumi risked to free herself from the softness beneath by pushing off. It worked for about an inch and a half before her arms gave in and she found herself sinking back into the futon. A couple of blinks were spent in utter silence that was soon broken by Tomie's quiet remark. Kasumi's heart was erratically beating in her chest. It almost felt as if it could rip its way out of the ribcage at any given moment.

It's Tomie.. there is no sand. She shifted carefully into a sitting position. No blood. Her blue eyes quickly found the owner of the establishment. The latter was calmly sipping from what seemed to be tea. She was situated just a couple of feet away from the futon; the sight was oddly comforting to the anxious girl.

A day?

Unable to keep her eyes from widening she rapidly turned her head towards the window. There was still out there, somewhere. It didn't look to different from the moment that she had arrived, or did it?

“I didn't mean to..”

Nibbling on her bottom lip Kasumi manages to fall silent. She then hides her embarrassment in the blanket next to her side. From all the things that could have happened she had to pass out.. Wonderful. Wasn't it just amazing? She put the blanket down, hands resting in her lap as Tomie moved to get onto her feet.

“That.. that would be nice. I would appreciate something to eat too, if it's not too much of a burden.” Still worried about what the woman might be thinking of her, Kasumi slid towards the edge of the futon that bordered with the table full of scrolls.

“Magahara-san?”

She cautiously called out before the woman had the time to leave the room. Worry mixed with hope. Orbs of crystal blue clung to the figure of the stern woman that was about to slip away.

“I'm sorry about last time. Something- hmm, I didn't mean to- to dirty your hall.”

Dropping her eyes towards the floor Kasumi really hoped Tomie would accept the apology. The things that had happened that day shouldn't have. Even with the man being no innocent, she shouldn't have injured him the way she had.

'That's in the past now, there's nothing you can do about it except from trying to learn from it.'

Quietly squirming in her seat, she brushed away a lost lock of hair that taunted her left eye. The emptiness of the room hit her hard, and in order to shake off the nightmare she pushed from the futon and walked towards the window. Tracing the windowpane with the tips of her fingers, she waited for Magahara to return.

Do you think that she'll tell them about what I've said?

'Doubt it.'

In this case Vör better be right. Kasumi felt no warmth towards the idea of having to go through an interrogation that revolved around murdering a fellow Shinigami. She could only imagine what a trial that would be. They would force her to tell everything, and then they would laugh at the way she'd been manipulated by an Arrancar into doing what it wanted. And after all of that, she was pretty sure that they would put her in the Nest to rot there for the rest of her existence.

By the time that Magahara's presence returned, Kasumi was close to tears. That was the only reason why she stubbornly kept her eyes directed at the silhouettes of the trees on the other side instead of facing her hostess.


Words: 806 – GP16|| 62

"Of course you didn't intend to fall unconscious, Kasumi," she scoffs, rising from the pillow with a heavy sigh, billowing sleeves swinging back and forth while she does so. "It's not exactly a planned action." Her tone is sour, but not impatient or chiding, merely a not-so-subtle jab at the not entirely conscious girl's cohesiveness.

The confession must have been more traumatic to the girl than she had initially wanted it to be. To her, the prospect of confessing to murder in a locked room where no one could hear or scrutinize is minimally frightful. What could go wrong? If the now-accomplice betrays confidence, there's always the possibility of eliminating them as well; what's necessary is occasionally unavoidable. Of course, actualizing the scenario and applying the identities of friends and employees to the vile, traitorous tattler in this hypothetical scenario does make her vaguely uneasy, but when she gives the victim a face, someone deserving of this sort of treatment, as is the case of Kasumi's manslaughter, the unease fades into a thin haze.

Anything to undo what's been done.

"It's not an issue, Kasumi," she continues, now consistently using her first name as opposed to her last. The girl came to her as a guest, not a customer. Besides, if she intends to keep up these visits, some level of familiarity between them should be established; on her behalf at least, granted her seniority. When matters come to an end, she does not even accept being called Tomie by Fuuyuko's mother, Ren. Lifting a tray with an empty bowl and some crumbs from the table, Tomie then prepares to head back to the kitchen, but stops in front of the door. "If it was an issue, I wouldn't have offered you any. And don't think about it. It wasn't that difficult to clean."

Then, she heads out and walks by tonight's customers, men of varying degrees of drunkenness, nodding towards Mai, who seems to be busy juggling the crowd. I'll have to ensure she's compensated somehow.

Once she reaches her destination, Tomie makes sure to thank the cook and the rest of the staff on kitchen duty before retrieving a bowl of stew, a chunk of bread, two cups and a tokkuri filled with sake. This would have to do for a tiny girl.

Upon reentering the room again, the patient seems more awake than before, less groggy at least, as she places the tray on the table opposite of her seating. "Here you go. Take a pillow when you feel ready to eat. The stew might be a bit lukewarm by now, but I'm sure it'll be better than nothing." With nimble movement and long arms, she stretches from across the table and grabs one of the cups, then pours herself some rice wine and downs it in one go. Well, even if the food might not be top notch, the alcohol is.

Her finger resumes running through the scroll, dragging carefully along the paper as she deciphers the symbols, seemingly paying her guest no mind until she is ready to join her. The only sound accompanying the room is the sound of distant laughter, muffled by the paper walls.

With careful breaths Kasumi soon managed to calm herself enough to turn around and find herself a pillow to sit on. From the looks of it Tomie really didn't plan on throwing her out of her establishment, nor did she seem too bothered by what's previously been said. Inclined to believe the woman's words, Kasumi quietly clutched the pillow before putting in next to the table. The stew smelled deliciously and the fact that it wasn't hot quickly proved rather handy when she eagerly dipped a piece of bread into the goodness and put it in her mouth. Savouring the flavour Kasumi succeeded in hiding the embarrassing noise that came from her stomach by pushing the bowl closer to herself.

The stew went in at a high pace; it seemed that the long nap had left her craving for food. Taking a short break after devouring about a third of her dinner, Kasumi curiously craned her neck in an attempt to read one of the scrolls. Not wanting to look too impolite she gave up on the scroll and chose to mimic Tomie's earlier gestures by filling the cup that belonged to her.

She drank it in one go.. hmm..

Blue eyes stared into the cup. Deciding that she couldn't go back now, Kasumi shut her eyes tightly before pouring the liquid into her mouth. Quickly swallowing it the girl was left with a burning sensation that ran down her throat and into her tummy. The sake caused her to gently cough and desperately look for a piece of stew-dipped bread to get past the taste.

Sticking with the food for the coming couple of minutes, she stole a couple of glances from Tomie before working up the courage to get herself another cup. This time she didn't pour all of it into her mouth, but took a sip large enough to leave half a moon of liquor behind.

The liquor burned as much as it did the first time, but the feeling was bearable. More importantly, Kasumi was stubborn. Once the cup was empty she placed it onto the table once again and didn't pick it up until the food was finished.

“The stew was really nice.”

A faint blush stretched itself across both of her cheeks, it was only briefly interrupted by a lost lock of snow-white hair. Now that her belly was full and her nerves calmed, she could fall back to her old habits and question Tomie about all types of things. Like the papers on the table between them, for example.

“What's that one all about?”

She pointed her chin into the direction of something that contained a couple of numbers while getting a hold onto the bottle. Pouring the sake for the both of them without posing any questions, she wrapped her fingers around the cup and held it closely. Her nose twitched lightly when she took a sip; her cheeks grew hotter as the alcohol made its way into her system.

“Do you a lot of paperwork, Magahara-san?”

Getting more and more relaxed, she felt an undeniable urge to socialize with the stern looking lady. And once her third cup was drained Kasumi found herself tugging at one of the papers with great enthusiasm and mischievously burning eyes.

“Can I see?”

The question was posed after the scroll was already in her hands. Cautiously she peered up at Tomie from beneath long, white eyelashes. Hopefully she wouldn't mind the sake stain on the second roll to her right. At least the cup hadn't been full, or fallen from the table for that matter.


Words: 600 – GP12|| 74

Oh, well, she might have forgotten to mention to Kasumi that what she is drinking is sake. Well, it's likely a menial detail. Soldiers seem to be able to afford certain luxury, minor ones at least, so it's fairly feasible that the girl has tasted alcohol before. Her childish guise could very well conceal her true age, as is the case for quite a few people. However, judging by her manners and relatively stunted mental growth, she cannot be that old. Perhaps a freshly arrived soul with prodigious talent who has taken the position of officer in the army. Yes, freshly arrived indeed... She's rather petulant, prone to obeying her own whims and own ethics instead of a military doctrine and quite frankly, rather amoral when it comes to other people's property.

She diverts her attention away from the kid briefly, instead plowing through the text on the scroll to make sure the accounting matches the preliminary budget before sending them over to her accountant to do the fine-tuning. After all, this sort of business takes precedence over any fainting kid who comes to her house and screams foul murder.

But not precedence over the characteristic coughing of a first-time drinker.

She lowers the paper roll covered by intricate symbols, a single eyebrow raised in bemusement to observe the scene playing out in front of her. So this is Kasumi's first drink, then. To her credit, ignoring the coughs, the girl manages to keep the liquid down, even though she hungrily reaches for the food to quell the spices of the rice wine. A coy smile catches the crevices of her lips as she raises the scroll again to resume reading. Oh, how the youth suffers.

As the silence looms, she allows the kid to eat without interference or chitchat; undisturbed work is just what she needs to properly finish skimming through the contents of the scroll and make corrections with her brush for a more presentable finished product. The madam is going to let Kasumi approach her instead of jumping on her like some vulture: the more comfortable she feels, the easier the inevitable interrogation will be as well. Rough transitions are for people of lesser status.

Of course, her curiosity does put a bump in the otherwise smooth surface, but she's not going to let it put too much of a damper on the mood. At least not until the girl is drunk enough to not notice her, frankly, brusque questions.

And judging by the drinking binge the girl has flung herself head first into, that would be fairly soon, the sound of the cup crashing into the table repeatedly echoing through the room like a shishi-odoshi. "Take it easy now. You'll get drunk in no time if you keep that up." She chides the girl from behind the paper, listening to the various scraping and swallowing noises as she tries to concentrate.

It doesn't take long until the girl exhales a satisfied sigh upon finishing and placing the utensil next to the bowl, done with the meal. "I'm glad you liked it," Tomie remarks absentmindedly, tone slightly sour, as she attempts to concentrate on the scroll's contents. Momohime requested a raise in addition to an additional day of leave next month. What can I subtract from to afford that? Can I-

Her thoughts are interrupted by the sound of movement emerging from the other side of the table, speech in tandem with pouring of sake. The girl is nuts. She can't really be a seasoned drinker of any caliber and going for a third cup this soon would surely cause significant intoxication relatively soon. "I said take it easy, Kasumi." Lowering the scroll, she gazes at the child with stern eyebrows, but glittering eyes. Watching the youth discover alcohol has always amused her, just like viewing exotic animals or observing a colony of bugs. So even if she implores the girl to stop, she doesn't necessarily want her to do so.

"And that scroll contains the kitchen's budget and accounting. Don't even think about touching it." This time, her voice is gruff and invokes authority, trying to make clear that her guest has nothing to do with any of business with any of Moyamoyasumi's inner machinations. "Also, yes. I do a lot of paperwork. It's not like I can trust anyone else with these numbers. Paperwork is part of owning a revenue."

Amidst the explanation, loud rustling of paper emerges and for a final time, Tomie lowers the scroll to give the white-haired girl a disapproving gaze. She's stretching across the table, over the bowl, trying to touch the item she has just been instructed is confidential. With a heavy sigh, she folds the paper in her hand and snatches the piece Shinoda is trying to examine. "I already told you. Don't touch the paperwork. It's confidential information regarding customers and the financial status of the esteemed Moyamoyasumi." Her voice is almost a sneer as she shoves all of the paperwork away and into a pile next to her, down on the floor, out of the girl's reach.

It seems like she has to finish the rest of this later.

Since the girl is already keen on getting festive with the drinks, she might as well join her; there is always time for a cup of sake if you're her. Or six. With another huff, she grabs the tokkuri and tilts the vessel until the cup is full, then downs it. She keeps up this pace until it is almost empty and she feels the hint of warmth brewing through her chest.

Staring expectantly at the girl, she leans her elbow on the table, the petals of her sleeve parting to revel the milky stem, knuckles resting against her plump cheeks. "Do you remember what happened before you woke up here?" The very first thing she had done back when she first opened her eyes was to apologize for sullying the hallway last time she dropped by, which the madam did appreciate, but it seemed like a diversion. As if she tried to pretend as if what had happened and wanted to recover in peace and quiet for a while. In all fairness, this doesn't come across as unacceptable to the crow-haired woman, on the contrary, it's quite understandable and she appreciates that the girl at least is tactful enough to start with cotton before she moves on to needles.

But she has had her time to recover now. Now the time has come for the girl to answer the more devilish details of her oh so cryptic story. It's not pleasant nor is it all that courteous, but necessary nonetheless.

"Do you remember what you told me?"

The warmth had settled in her stomach and was giving off pleasant vibes throughout her limbs. With tingling fingertips Kasumi happily clung to her cup while feeling rather fuzzy. Still, the fact that Tomie was asking her to slow down with the drinking was enough for the stubborn teenager to get herself another, full cup. She only managed to gulp down half of it, though. The rest was put down on the table once the papers were out of reach. Somehow she didn't trust her hands to place the cup where she wanted it to be – which was quite odd considering that she had grown so used to hit right on target, especially when she was using her hands.

Regardless of her happiness about the papers getting moved, she still managed to pout at the owner. It was simply a small sign of displeasure about not getting her way. Of course, with the liquor in her system, she ended up pouting for a couple of seconds too long. While her brain had signalled for her lips to curl back into a line, her muscles had somehow refused to do just that and Kasumi felt as if her body was broken. Slowly blinking she laughed gently when Tomie's sneer was processed. Why was the woman so uptight? It was just a paper with some numbers on it, it wasn't as if Kasumi had planned to take it with her to the Second for investigation. For a brief moment she felt like teasing the lady on the opposite side of the table by implying something similar, but decided against it. There was no need to get on her bad side; Kasumi liked it here and would find it sad if she would be forced to leave.

Realizing that she had been staring at the liquid in her cup for this whole time, she strained her neck muscles to get her chin back up. The room was spinning slightly and Tomie's face was closer now that she was leaning on her elbow. Humming gently in response, Kasumi lowered her face closer to the cup. If the cup wouldn't come closer to her by itself, then she would come closer to the cup. Placing her lips onto the side of the dish she carefully tipped it until the liquid started to flow into her mouth. A moment later her nose hit the dish and some of the sake dripped from her chin onto the table.

The little stains were soon wiped off with the help of her uniform and a second later Kasumi had buried her face into knee to clean her chin, too. The fabric felt soft and she kept her right cheek pressed against her leg for some time while closing her eyes in the process. Sitting there curled into a half ball she noticed herself growing sleepy with every passing second, and only when Tomie spoke again did she straightened up with a slowly, cracking brain.

“I do.” She spoke, slightly slurring in the process while avoiding Tomie's gaze. Most of all she wanted to drop the topic and curl on the spot she'd been previously sleeping on. If there would be no nightmares then she would have a wonderful time squeezing the blanket while drifting off on the softness akin to a cloud of cotton wool.

Before she knew Kasumi was already turned towards the futon that was tempting her with its mere presence. A querulous sound emerged from the back of her throat when she realized that sleeping wasn't an option. Tomie was waiting for something more, though Kasumi wasn't sure what exactly she needed. The distress from before was oddly distant, as if some thick plastic was muting it as it divided Kasumi's mind into two chunks.

“What of it?”

There was clearly some uneasiness in her voice as she tried to sound casual. Being reminded of her crime wasn't something she was fond of, and the fear of being revealed was soon reignited.

“I didn't mean to, I mean.. I was.. It's complicated.”

Afraid to say anything else she quickly found the cup to play with while keeping an eye on Tomie, the woman could be asking things for various reasons. Kasumi really hoped that they wouldn't include options like selling her out.

What if she went to tell someone when I was asleep.. What if someone's on their way to get me? Could Shinigami be looking for her already? Would they believe her if she told them that it was the Arrancars fault?

Every question brought a ton of stress that stabbed at her through the foggy wall of alcohol. The room was too hot, too small. With jerking motions she managed to get a grip on the remaining alcohol and poured the liquid directly into her mouth. If the somewhat bitter taste of sake would drown her memories and fears then she would happily have another flask.

“Can we..” The hiccup was an accident, Kasumi covered her mouth with the empty dish in her hand. “..get more?”

She didn't mind, she didn't care.. This wasn't an act. Tomie could be trusted.

The thoughts were making Kasumi sick, she needed to be reassured. She had to explain to Tomie that it wasn't her fault, not really. Then, the woman would surely understand the peculiar situation the young Shinigami had thrown herself into, right?

“All just sliipppped, like .. water.” She announced with wide eyes. “It was as if something wanted to, not me, but me.. I was mad.. it was mad. We fell and suddenly the deed was.. done.”

Shaking her head in disbelief, she put her hands on the table with palms up towards the ceiling. Unsure of what she had felt, of why she had been so close to Cheshire and so separated from herself, Kasumi continued to absent-mindedly hum with the empty dishes in her lap.


Words: 983 – GP 19|| 93

What an insolent child. She is even worse than last time, when she had actually wrecked my building. Granted, she knows this is not true, but the spiteful thought lingers nonetheless, directed towards this prying youngster who thinks these papers are her business. As a matter of fact, few of the things in this room, no, this entire place, is the business of Shinoda Kasumi, insolent womanchild from beyond the madam's little corner of the world. Why would she even care about the paperwork? She had clearly stated to the girl that it was just boring numbers concerning the estate's state of being, which to the inebriated girl's information is just fine, contrary to what Tomie's secrecy might be implying.

There are some sensitive details in these papers she would rather not have the eyes from outside the inner circle witness, certainly, but these are mostly names of customers or patrons whose contributions, wishes and favored girls are to remain confidential. These details may very well be well-known within the wooden walls and among the giggling employees, but everything in this building at one time, sans the customers, belong to a single entity one might even think of as a family, despite the head honcho's chilly attitude to most of the pack.

Her patience for any sort of disrespect for this entity by someone who is not a guest, even then it is minimal, runs thin quickly; she is not one for entertaining visitors outside a business sense without an agenda. The ugly tendency to want something from someone is perpetually present, with a single glaring, pantry-raiding exception. Her intent might be unclear in this situation, but that is not to say that doesn't have her agendas for Shinoda. There are several orbiting the two of them as the girl delves deeper into the exploitative territory of hazy thoughts, heading on a collision course.

But once one of the topics she wants to illuminate is back on track, her guest seems to wander a bit out of the fog she should ideally settle into and unveil the secrets in. This is not good. The balance of openness and hesitancy needs to keep itself at zero here, and it seems the scales are tipping in the favor of one at the moment.

An already pouting face looks nigh miserable when it is confronted with the trauma of confession once more. The rice wine seems to have fueled the the emotions even more, sending them into haywire, causing tears of sadness to become tears of sorrow, anger to become madness. Zero, back to zero. Water, the girl needs to be slightly sober for the interrogation to be a success.

She clearly just wants to sleep some more, judging by the longing stares at the futon and displeased squeals, but that is no option yet. She has barely been conscious for the better quarter of an hour, maybe less, after slumbering through the entirety of the day.

"I am concerned," she says flatly, fingers placed solemnly in her lap, not unveiling an inkling of relaxation where she sits in uptight position, lying through her teeth. "You did faint after all. I just thought talking about it might help you, somehow. I'll offer advice to the best of my ability."

She places her hands on the table, resting them before she drags her fingers across the the uneven wooden surface, eliciting rasping sounds. Tomie needs to show that she too is relaxed, that she too, can be trusted. "There is no judgment here. I am not the baseless justice system of Seireitei. I am me. A confidante, if you so need." Her velvety eyes trail from the lacquered nails of the table over to the girl, enticing while also challenging her: speak and you shall be heard.

Well, she definitely needs to go fetch water now, since she just downed the last bit of alcohol left between them. The tiny liver won't handle much more before she purges out the excess liquid due to an inability to process it. "Yes, we can. Not yet, Miss Shinoda. Otherwise you will regurgitate what you just ate and feel even worse than you already do, physically at least." A careful smile, attempting to invoke contours of maternity, is propped up on her facade to persuade the girl to do as she says.

She scoots closer on her pillow, allowing increased intimacy between them, saying nothing in anticipation of being told what she wants to know.

It starts off slow, but it would be anything but normal if it didn't. Slipped like water? This explanation doesn't make much sense, but being lubed up with fermented juice, the madam wouldn't expect it to. Idly twirling a loose lock of hair around her sharp finger, she gazes with fascination and concentration at the girl.

"I can't say I understand the situation, Kasumi, but who is to say you do?" She maintains a neutral tone, unfazed by the prospect of slaughter, face maintaining the same unimpressed visage as before. "You didn't see anymore, you don't remember clearly. Someone unimportant died. Who is to say this isn't self-defense?" Fingers resume their tapping, then scratches across the surface before raven bangs swing once she gets up from her seat and walks around the table. Gentle fingers reclaim the plate from her guest, then the drinking vessel.

"Our memories are mercurial little things and they enjoy playing tricks on us. They can't always be trusted." She glances at the girl briefly, slowing down her cleaning for a second before stacking all of the items on the plate and heading to the hallway. "What you see isn't always the truth," she remarks, back turned, before she rounds the corner and closes the door.

Tomie places the items on the counter, yielding protesting clanging noises from the porcelain in the process, before grabbing two tokkuri from the shelf, one filled with more alcohol, the other with water. The former would be for her, the latter for the girl. She wouldn't even notice that she'd be drinking water at this point.

Once she reenters, she puts both of the vessels on the table, with her preferred one closer to her pillow and situates herself with the same stiff comfort as before. "Have some more, please," she gesticulates towards the water-filled carafe before pouring a full cup for herself and downing it nigh instantaneously. "Doesn't that make you feel better?"

“Regi- regurgate? R-rrrreegurgitate?” Kasumi awkwardly stammered as she stumbled over her own tongue before curiously placing her gaze on Tomie and swallowing an upcoming hiccup. The room was spinning vaguely, at least that's what it felt like. Her vision was mostly balanced even if slightly blurry at the edges, but her body felt as if something was rolling her around without mercy. It was an odd sensation she couldn't get rid off no matter what position she sat in. Shifting from right to the left she found that her stomach disliked the new angle and ended up placing her face on the table in hopes of feeling better. The cool surface was welcomed, Tomie's presence didn't bother her either but she felt too dizzy to care all that much about the raven head.

Trying to close her eyes Kasumi soon found that the feeling of rolling and tumbling only got worse when she couldn't see anything but darkness. That's why she carefully forced herself to sit back up while those violet coloured eyes still stared at her. Somehow the young Shinigami had never quite paid attention to Tomie's eyes, not in such detail. The strange thing about them was the fact that she couldn't figure out what laid behind those richly dark red orbs. Blinking helped very little, her vision didn't get clearer from the useless opening and closing of her eyes. She stared, tracing a black curl that crossed the porcelain skin. The idea of comparing their hands popped up, crawling from the back of her skull to see the light and that's why soon her hand was next to the woman's face. The fact that Tomie didn't slap it away – not that she was touching her chin, she was only studying the colour, showed a degree of trust. Slowly but certainly a certain amount of comfort seeped from the taller woman and like usually Kasumi absorbed the sedative idea of safety without any thoughts.

“My instincts were all reversed.” As if.. as if the Shinigami had been a threat. Or had he been something to worry about? She could just.. attacked Cheshire and been done with it, but at that point it felt right to please the Arrancar.

“What I see?” She questioned carefully while holding onto the table but Tomie was already out of the room.

With the dishes gone together with the owner, the room appeared extra empty. In her somewhat intoxicated state she wanted to make her way to the window but ended up deciding that sticking to her pillow would be best, for now. The choice to remain seated gave her a seemingly endless amount of time to think about the words that's been spoken to her while the walls happily moved forward and back by a couple of inches.

“If it's a trick.. trick of the mind hmm..” The mumbles were directed at no one in particular. She continued with the brain torture that was thinking. “..perhaps he had attacked. Perhaps she had me under a spell. Perhaps it wasn-.”

The soft sound of vessels being put onto the table had Kasumi shifting to the side, again. Her eyes cautiously peered at Tomie for a brief moment before lighting up with recognition. Without any fuss the cup was soon put to her lips and drained. The liquid was cold, she thought to taste it even less than the prior sip – and wondered if her tongue had gone completely numb.

“No, not really.” Honesty came out before she had determined whether or not it was a polite thing to say. Figuring that going back was too late now, she carefully got herself some more liquid before taking a huge sip. It really didn't burn any longer, but Kasumi didn't pay any attention to that.

“You know what the scariest part is?” Without waiting for an answer she continued, fingers playing with the cup that was dangerously close to the edge. A part of the girl could already see the shattered pieces on the ground. Still, that didn't stop her from giving it another twirl.

“Something was there.. something I think might have-” She didn't dare to say 'possessed me', didn't want that to be true. In fact, Kasumi refused the idea of becoming one of them simply because it was terrifying. Not everyone was capable of controlling their actions and if she could not, then there were only a handful of options regarding her future.

“I mean, either the Arrancar tricked me or.. or.. a demon spoke on my part. From the inside it came and took away my control.”

Her nail clumsily bumped into the cup. A break from her monologue. Uncomfortable grabbing at the already falling dish failed to prevent the water from splashing across her knee and pillow. The latter's softness had broken the fall and left the cup whole. The realisation that it didn't have to break when falling even if that was what happened most of the time left Kasumi's brain cracking.

“You've said that memories play tricks.. on us.”

Leaning forward she got a hold of the cup. While doing so her soaked knee poked into her side, spreading the wet spot a bit further. The water felt pleasant. Kasumi wanted to swim.

“Does that make me mad?” She wondered out loud from somewhere beneath the desk. Now that her goal was reached she came back up and loudly bumped her head against the desk. There was enough power behind the collision to bring the wooden furniture into motion. Luckily, nothing new fell from the table.

Getting a new idea she rubbed the back of her head while processing the thought. It made sense, and her eyes widened in newfound horror. “What if we're all mad?”


Words: 958 – 19: 112

"Goner" is the word Tomie Magahara would ideally use to describe the girl's current status, judging by the swaying, giggling and increasingly unstable mood. She had been mouthing the same word over and over in an attempt to pronounce it correctly before moving on to even more infantile actions, such as planting her face firmly on the very low table, nearly resting her cheek at knee height, before shifting uncomfortably again back into a seated position.

The sooner she could coerce the kid into drinking all the water before she inevitably keels over and takes a snooze, the better. For both of them, clearly. Even though Kasumi has been out for the majority of the day, she still presumes the girl could use some more sleep to properly recuperate following what can only have been a traumatic experience.

Now she hears the muttering of various pronouns, a he and a she doesn't recall being mentioned in the earlier explanation. Who is what? Had she killed multiple people? No, judging by what her guest had exclaimed earlier there seems to have been a single target, one individual, who had been subjected to the regretful wrath. She seems to recall more than she is willing to let me in on. Yet also less than she wants. Perplexing.

"Then keep drinking until you feel more lucid. It is probably not going to affect your feelings regarding the incident, but it will make you feel less delirious," she interrupts her own speech to empty a cup filled to the brim with sake, liquid rice in the form of fire, before continuing. "I'd implore you to trust me on that one. Years of experience speaking." She forms a placid smile, slightly crooked with mischief, as she refills the cup.

The madam is about to put forth an exasperated "no, I don't know what" to the girl, but her guest motormouths past her, proceeding to babble some more about another incomprehensible aspect of the situation she had been in. Not only is she not making any sense, but she is also toying with the cup she had just emptied instead of drinking more as she had been implored to do. It is dancing dangerously close to the edge by the mercy of the girl's grace and skill, which should not be trusted with such a delicate object.

In an effort to get her to stop, Tomie narrows her eyes and frowns, pupils trailing from the porcelain vessel to the girl with rapid movement. If this isn't a clear display of disapproval, even to an intoxicated kid, then she must simply audibly express it.

But the last thing she catches herself thinking before the echoes of glass slipping off wooden surface and tumble towards the floor is: 'What is an Arrankaru?'

Instinctively, her hand jerks forth, futilely extending across the table in effort to stop the cup's momentum, to save it from the fate of being smashed to pieces against the floor. It stops halfway across, eyes peering at the edge where it fell, bracing for the inevitable 'oops' from this insolent brat with a complete lack of respect for the belongings of others.

But there is no loud crash indicating the expected shatter; merely a barely audible thud as it lands in the girl's lap, spilling its contents all over the clothes.

A sigh of relief escapes the hostess' mouth, which gradually phases into irritated hissing at the back of her throat as she retracts her hand, balling it into a fist.

"It is true that memories sometimes play tricks on us," she begrudgingly replies, the feeling of her patience gradually starting to run thin brewing through her limbs, filling them with warmth. "How you perceive the world isn't always what the world is like. Memories are by nature mostly subjective."

She gets up from her seat, mostly ignoring the girl's ramblings while walking around the table, the shuffling of hurried feet against tatami floor being the accompanying musical track. Standing next to the girl, towering over her, the woman is very tempted to give her a proper scolding for the misconduct. But instead, she takes the more diplomatic route.

The talons of her hands extend above the girl's lap, hovering while making pulling motions. The spilled liquid starts stirring within the fabric, responding to the suction slowly, like a magnet. Droplet by droplet, the water ascends towards the center of the palm, gathering in an orb until the area is as dry as it had been prior to the incident.

She flips her hand over, the water following diligently, before trailing her hand along towards the tokkuri. Like a serpentine creature, the water undulates and follows the trail, swinging from side to side until it reaches the top, wherein it pours into the carafe like it would.

Without saying another word, Tomie walks back to her pillow and resumes sitting in the seiza position, as is custom for people like her. "I can't with certainty know what you just saw. And I can't with certainty know you understood what I did. Reality is on a fundamental level subjective."

Upon uttering these words, she places one finger against her chin, tilting her head slightly before emptying the vessel for her sake in one voracious gulp. "I suppose we're all a little mad in that sense." A hearty chuckle follows, quite similar to the one Shinoda had the displeasure of experiencing when she tried to write Tomie's name in Kanji. Realizing that the girl probably will never be in a state to follow such philosophical inquiries, she serves a patronizing smile and puts the cup down with a thud.

"Would you care to try some of the treats you brought me? I have no idea how to consume them, so I would love for you to demonstrate for me." She pulls the box with these strange brown objects from underneath the table, knowing it could be handy to have the kid get rid of them for her so she won't have to indulge in disgusting Western culture.

"And just remember... Regardless of what happened back then, it was still you. You are you even if you did something unsavory. You are not better, not worse, not different. Just you." She holds the girl's eyes with increased intensity, deep brown meeting pale blue, before opening the box, presenting the snacks to her guest.

Awkwardly leaning back a little she tried to tip her head enough to see what Tomie was doing without falling backwards onto the ground. With eyes threatening to climb onto her forehead Kasumi watched the older female come to a stop behind her. Something about the expression on her face spoke of annoyance, but the young Shinigami felt too fuzzy to pay any real attention to that strict line which resembled the hostess' mouth.

Mere moments later Tomie's hands reached out for Kasumi's lap and left the girl baffled. At first she wasn't certain about what was about to happen – was Tomie planning to check if the pillow Kasumi sat on was wet, too? There were a couple of other, strange thoughts floating through the girl's mind when strings of liquid were pulled from her clothes. Magically they curled and gathered as they continued to drift through the air as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

From her lap into the carafe it went, and Kas couldn't help but to reach out and gently poke the strand as it passed in front of her. How, she wondered. Dumbfounded by the scenario she hummed gently before getting a hold of the carafe and stare inside of it. There really was liquid there, and her lap was dry once again!

Her eyes wildly went from the item in her hand to Tomie, then back. She even gently shook at the carafe in order to make sure that the amount of liquid wasn't a game of light and its reflection.

“How did you-? Is this some sort of Kidō like the wood stuff you did to trap that guy?”

Obviously intrigued by Tomie's abilities, she settled back with the carafe still in tightly gripped by her fingers. Knowing that she had to give the woman something in order to get what she wanted – trading information was only natural in a conversation, if you asked Kasumi – she nodded when the sweet were mentioned.

“Of course, I'll.. show you how to ..consume them.” Without thinking any further she put the carafe at her lips and took a huge sip from the refreshing liquid inside. It didn't really have a taste, neither did it burn her throat. If anything, it seemed to be a little sweet. Another large sip almost had her choking but she managed to gulp down the liquid and only cough two and a – awkward – half times.

Finding the sweet she took one out of the package, waved with it at Tomie before stuffing it into her mouth in one go. The chocolate leaking out of the mochi wasn't as liquid as it should have been, but melted on her tongue regardless. Enjoying the sweet flavor Kasumi happily chewed – with her mouth closed – before washing it down with the liquid from her new cup.

A second sweet was stolen after the first one was gone, though, this time she didn't devour it in one go. Taking a small bite, she put the other half onto the table next to the carafe before deeply sighing. The sound came from her together with a scent of alcohol and it appeared that she found it difficult to chew. The mochi was sticking to her teeth and instead of pushing through and swallowing it all she.. simply stopped and stared at the table with a full mouth. All of a sudden she felt exhausted once again. A quick look at Tomie indicated that she didn't quite want to eat the candy, but the glare she found there forced her to swallow the bits of chocolate.

Pushing the empty carafe toward Tomie, she quickly wrapped her sticky fingers around the one the woman had been keeping for herself. With a sudden jerk she managed to conquer the dish before repeating the process from before just to find out that there was nothing neutral or sweet about the content which streamed into her open mouth.

Cough

She felt the tears in the corner of her eyes as she managed to keep everything down with a violent shiver.

“That.. was horrible.” Wiping her mouth with the side of her uniform she slowly collapsed onto the floor. The ceiling her eyes fell on was a welcoming sight this time. Deeply inhaling she started to lazily close her eyes, wondering if Tomie could please place a blanket over her.

“Oh, yeah, about me being me and stuff.. it was as if there was this ghost with me, or demon, or something.” Mumbling with eyes closed, she felt her body becoming heavier with every passing second. The peaceful nature of her surroundings was tempting Kasumi into taking another nap – that was, until bright red eyes stared down upon her. With a jumping heart she opened her eyes to see nothing but the ceiling. She could still hear her heartbeat in her ears, an odd, dull sound of panic.

“I.. guess, I'll nap a bit later.” She managed to let out with visible displeasure.


Words: 834/16: 128GP

Only after she is seated does she respond to the Shinigami's inquiries about the nature of her powers. "This is indeed similar to the 'magic' I utilized to apprehend the criminal back then. But not the same," she retains enigma in her voice as the last droplet of water plops into the vessel, her shifty eyes sparkling with mischief. Raising her hand, she drags a sharped index in front of her eyes, concealing them with dull movement. Sometimes, obfuscating the mystic manner her powers work is the ideal solution to maintaining a low profile, but this time along, being curt about the machinations seems to be best. After all, given the fact that she is intending to squeeze out a particular piece of information from the girl, she should offer as much on the table as possible.

Only after she has offered her guest to partake in the gift she brought, those strange fecal-esque treats in mostly round shapes resting within a box, does she resume speaking about her powers. All the while she lets Kasumi 'demonstrate' how the eat the treats in order to get properly rid of them instead of partaking in their consumption herself. "I command several domains of magic. What you had seen before, was the wood variety. It is the one I am the most adept with," she initiates, weaving her hands together before forming a cocoon with her palms. She folds them open, materializing but a lone tiger lily within the grasp, radiant and orange.

This is a neat party trick, but nothing else, and the child has already seen some of the more impressive capabilities of her powers, so dwelling on it for too long wouldn't be particularly useful. The woman closes her palms once again, closing her eyes to concentrate. Warmth brews through her skin as the petals combust through sparks, trapped light trying to escape between her fingers. Palms unclasp to let smoldering ashes and the remnants of the plant out. The docile ash plummets under her watchful eyes, but not for long; she twists her fingers above it, yielding a petite tornado siphoning up all the debris.

With a flick of the wrist, she guides it towards the window, forcing it open before guiding the dust tornado outside.

The display has left her feeling slightly like some sort of performer, what she used to be back in the day, providing entertainment for a patron. It's not a feeling she likes right now, given how artificial and cold it can be; it's not an environment she wishes to foster in her private chambers with a guest. This doesn't mean she wishes to be intimate with the girl, but maybe loosen the straps on the mask to give the face beneath some fresh air.

"As fascinating as you might have found that display, it pales in comparison to what you did to the prisoner back then. Now that," she pauses, leans forwards, eyes glinting. "Intrigues me. Could you tell me about it?" She wants to know how it's done, how to replicate it, how she could incorporate it into her arsenal of spells and call it her own. She has been fantasizing about those serpentine tendrils that dug into the man's flesh ever since Shinoda first used them to brutalize the man to access information from him through torture.

It's the primary reason as to why she has tolerated the white-haired brat to the extent she has, today in particular, perhaps in addition to a certain sense of pity for this lost vagabond of a child.

She has maintained her patience for quite some time, waiting only to make an appropriate occasion to talk to the girl about her desires. Implicitly, of course! There is no use pushing a little drunkard about a topic she won't necessarily give a clear answer to, so she is willing to bide her time if so is required.

Which unfortunately also seems to be what she has to do. Before she could receive any adequate reply of any sort, Kasumi nabs the carafe not intended for her and takes a hearty chug directly from it, spilling sticky brown substance all over it. She coughs briefly, before downing the liquid in a single gulp. It seems like her plan to make the girl more sober before asking her to go to bed backfired horribly. Perhaps she should just be frank about it and ask her to have some water.

Following this incident, she proceeds to mumble about a demon or ghost of sorts before slumping over, clearly still feeling fatigued. "Kasumi?" Her voice is cautious, nigh gentle as it attempts to lull her out of the sleepy state. She doesn't respond, merely tilting even more over.

Only a few seconds later, perhaps even as much as half a minute, does her eyes burst open, before moaning about having to go to sleep later.

"I can see why your body is not feeling tired." Tomie picks up the carafe with a delicate grip, intentionally avoiding the brown fingerprints while making a displeased grimace with her mouth. "You have slept all day."

She gets up from her seat for the umpteenth time, both vessels in hand as she is about to head out to the foyer again. Still, she maintains her gaze upon the girl where she stands, shimmering brown eyes being gems on the otherwise shaded silhouette. "You're very intoxicated right now. If you don't drink any water soon, you're going to wake up with quite the headache tomorrow." The white socked legs twist as the madam turns towards the door. "Allow me to get you some."

Like before, she drops off the empty tokkuri on the shelf for Mai to put in the kitchen and takes an additional two in her hand, the same as before. But this time, she intends to be frank.

Once she is back to her seat, she shoves the one filled with water to the girl and keeps the other to herself. "Drink up. You need to balance the fluids in your body." Like a true alcoholic, she pours herself cup after cup, hastily emptying them down her own gullet to keep the precious rice wine out of the bumbling brat's grasp. Perhaps this will increase her tolerance to the child's antics as well.