| [May. 1st, 2009|02:12 pm] |
"Bad poetry, huh?" Genma asked, and reached for the dish of sweets to push it closer to her. "Would you believe I had to take a whole class on bad poetry when I was a chuunin? Part of that learning manners so you can convince the aristocracy you're there to spy on or steal from or kill, that you belong there." He chuckled wryly and lifted the plate. "Seriously, have one, because I want one but it'd be impolite of me to eat if you weren't."
It was a trick Amari-sensei had taught him, actually, disarming your guest by being deliberately rude and stating your own desires. It gave them permission to indulge theirs. Yet another thing to be sure to tell Kaito about.
He'd also have to teach him how to appreciate a guest's assets without getting tongue-tied. He was sure if Kaito had been in here, faced with Natsumi's elegant good looks and classy mannerisms, combined with the slight gap where her wrap-top overlapped, he'd have been been red and stammering. No wonder he hadn't noticed what color her eyes were.
Brown, Genma told himself. He flicked a glance up to check, and was relieved to find he was right. Dark brown the color of black coffee. Darker than Raidou's. Looking right back at his.
"You want to know something funny?" he asked, and tried not to let her gaze throw him. "I work with poison all the time. Have a bunch of immunities. But I think you pretty much can't build a tolerance to the kind of toxin I got hit with. Karma, huh?" |
|