| [Jan. 26th, 2009|01:33 pm] |
"You," Natsumi told him, "are infuriating."
His expression didn't flicker. Gods above and below, he was serious. A leather coat and gloves worn for internal work, an assignment he wouldn't--or couldn't--tell her in so many words...
She took the glove from his hand. Softest calfskin, with black-on-black stitches she found by touch rather than by sight. His hands were half again as large as hers, but the gloves were shorter. Where her newly issued uniform gloves ran nearly to her shoulders to protect delicate skin from the chafing straps of an arm-guard, his would stop a few inches past the wrist. The leather was soft enough to mold perfectly to his hands, but it was too thin to offer more than the slightest warmth. This wasn't a glove for protection. Paired with the sweeping black coat, with Ibiki's stern face, with dark eyes and a low voice, it was made solely for intimidation.
It wasn't bloody, at least. Small consolation.
"I think," she said very quietly, "I might have preferred it if you'd decided to join the club scene. I'd have gone with you."
No wonder he hadn't told her. She set the glove carefully back in his outstretched hand. "I don't believe I'll ask to see your office, Ibiki-kun." |
|