Just Say Goodnight

[Rina]

The sun was slowly sinking behind the cluttered sky and the humidity of the day retreated with it, giving way to the briskness of the evening. There was a stillness in the upcoming night—a sort of solemn atmosphere—that was only interrupted by the sound of wood splintering from the impact of a steel blade.

Tamaki had spent the majority of his day out in the training grounds clearing his head. On a normal day, the moment the hilt of his katana came into contact with his hand would’ve signified a sort of relief—a getaway—but today, it did little to relieve his angst. He had pushed himself harder to get into swing of his mechanisms, but with each degree he tried to heighten his interest in training, the sloppier he became. His swings wavered, splintering the wooden targets clumsily, a hit that an enemy assassin could recover from and use to fuel their counteractions. If he were on a battle ground, surely he would’ve been severely wounded if not killed already.

Plagued with dissatisfaction, he returned his katana to its sheath. He was procrastinating for too long now and it was being to affect his technique. He had to tell her already.

He approached with irresolute steps to the window he knew so well. It led onto a balcony—one of the two balconies within the entire base—that looked over the training grounds and led to the room of a particular assassin. When he’d stay out late training on the fields, he’d occasionally see her wander onto her balcony either to read a book or simply to get some fresh air. He’d find himself training a little more vigorously whenever he discovered she was out, as if he were proving himself to her. But with naïve ideas came no promotion. She probably hadn’t noticed him training at all.

Taking a grip on a branch of the tree adjacent to her balcony, he hoisted himself up. In terms of his upper body strength, he was well off; in terms of his tree-climbing capabilities, he needed some work. After a few struggles with scaling the tree—and misplacements of his feet that nearly resulted in him plummeting to the ground—he exchanged his footing on the branches for the marble of the balcony and carefully clambered over the railing.

Once on the balcony, he situated himself in front of the elongated window, leaning his elbows on the railing. With all the noise he made with his ascension of the tree, he knew that it’d only be a matter of time until she appeared from her room to see what the clamor was all about.

[Kitty]

As she ascended the stairs to her room, a nearly tangible wave of contentment flowed over her. All in all, she had to admit that her day was quite a success, involving doing a bit of training while still being able to finish up the novel she had been working on. Now, it was time to retire to her room for the evening. Per usual, her favorite ceramic teacup warmed her hands in its usual inviting way. There was no better way to wrap up a good day than unwinding in her room with a cup of tea, reflecting on what she needed to practice in the training grounds tomorrow and picking out a new book to sink her teeth into.

With a quiet, swift motion, she opened the door, let herself in, then closed it behind her, locking it as she passed by. After the incident of Arata barging into her room unannounced and playing games she never signed up for, she no longer took the chance of leaving it open even the slightest bit. Her room was her sanctuary--the one place where she could escape all the others at base. She was one assassin that Kain knew not to assign a roommate to. It was not as if she was a particularly rude or disagreeable. On the contrary, Katanai was exceedingly polite--especially to people that she did not entirely know. On the other hand, she was raised in a practically empty mansion, free to roam without worry of being disrupted. If she was to keep up her polite, passive nature toward her colleagues, it was for the best that she was guaranteed alone time each day.

Just as she went to sit down on her bed, her ears twitched to life. There was an overwhelming amount of noise just outside her balcony. She was used to hearing the sounds of assorted weapons crashing into the targets set up in the training grounds directly below. (Occasionally, she would even venture to watch the others strengthen themselves. There was a particular blonde she often caught sight of when she would sit on her balcony's railing to read or relax. Discretely watching him practice his blade work gave her a sense of security in her partner, as well as a bit of amusement that was just enough to curl her lips into a faint smirk.) This commotion was far different than anything she had grown accustomed to. With the carelessly harsh noises outside, it almost sounded as if enemies were infiltrating the base. With a small pang of worry, she approached the window of her balcony, cup of tea still in hand.

When she realized what the noise really was, she couldn't help but smile. Biting her cheek to prevent her small smile from growing into laughter, she tugged on the handles of the tall glass panels, pulling them apart just enough so she could slide through.

"I thought that enemy forces were attacking," she admitted, explaining why she seemed more amused than the situation called for, "Then I realized that only you could make so much noise." Tamaki was many things.; stealthy was not one of them. Katanai often teased her partner for his unnaturally heavy footfall that only seemed noisier when they were traveled together. Her own movements were all soft and light. He, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy crashing around, stomping strong footprints into the ground.

Taking a careful sip from her teacup, she allowed the steam from the hot tea to warm her cheeks. The entire time, her eyes were locked on the man before her. Out of every person she had met, he was the one that she had allowed to get closest to her. There was no rhyme or reason as to why. Perhaps it was because they had to learn to trust each other with their lives. It hadn't seemed possible when the two had first been introduced. Back then, he was nothing but a pompous stranger, mocking her with his every glance. Between then and now, something had certainly shifted.

"What brings you here?" she questioned, tilting her head just slightly to the side. Not that she minded his presence in the least. In fact, it was with him around that she felt the most at ease. There were times that he sought her out for no reason in particular, but something about his aura tonight lent her to believe that he must have had a purpose for his visit.

[Rina]

She appeared through the separation of the glass panes, carefully squeezing through with a cup of tea—which seemed to be her signature beverage—held firmly in her hand. If he didn’t know any better, he’d conclude that she were a spy from her swift and silent movements; yet seeing her train, he knew she was a devoted assassin. And if it weren’t for the fact that his ego prevented him from admitting it, he’d say that her abilities far surpassed his own. But he liked to believe he gave her a run for her money.

“I thought that enemy forces were attacking,” she conceded, seeming far too amused with the situation. “Then I realized that only you could make so much noise.”

He allowed a soft exhale to escape from his nose—a silent chuckle of some sorts—as he absentmindedly shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “Damn. I really wanted that spy position, too,” he admitted sarcastically with a lopsided smirk. He was never one to talk much—nor sport—yet with her, it was different. Despite his feelings of animosity he held toward her in the beginning, he found his resentment depleting and soon found himself actually…fond of her presence.

He stared on mindlessly as she partook from her tea, her eyes never leaving him. He scrambled for an explanation, but his words simply became jumbled and lost within the deep sea of her crimson hues. Her eyes, once so aloof and cold, begun to grow more labyrinthine and lustrous, drawing him in more and more each day until he found it impossible to look away.

Suddenly, her voice broke him out of his trance:

“What brings you here?”

He diverted his gaze, struggling to find the words. He didn’t know why it was so difficult for him to tell her. It only took a matter of minutes to inform Tara, yet why was it so hard to tell Katanai? It had seemed like such a facile task until Tara had questioned without missing a beat, “So did you tell her yet?” They both knew exactly who ‘her’ was. It seemed as if both he and Tara had a mutual understanding of his off-the-field fondness for his feline-esque partner.

Shifting his gaze back to Katanai, he allowed his hand to free itself from the captivity of his pocket and gingerly smooth down a stray piece of her bang. She was remarkably shorter than him and had a petite frame that compelled him to be gentle when contacting her for fear of hurting her. Although he knew of her durability from watching her—and training with her—he couldn’t bring himself to handle her roughly off the field.

He shifted uncomfortably, transferring his weight from the railing to his feet to stand erect. “Kain informed me that I’m to be dispatched for a solo mission,” he muttered solemnly.

[Kitty]

As he let out his signature exhale of amusement, she felt her own smile grow ever-so-slightly. That smirk of his that used to irk her to no end was now something disarming and warm.

“Damn. I really wanted that spy position, too,”

"It seems you have your work cut out for you, then," she offered in equal sarcasm, allowing her once restrained laughter to quietly stream forth. There was no better way to end her day, she therefore concluded, than an encounter with Tamaki. She figured that in the end, she would have to tell him to get some rest rather than returning to the training grounds below, offering him assurance that they could train tomorrow if he got up early enough. She knew that staying asleep as late into the day as he enjoyed to do was certainly unhealthy. Being he was so close to becoming a doctor before the organization had beckoned him in, he had to know that. He was likely disregarding his own wellbeing for the sake of his vice (sleeping). Perhaps a bit of playful teasing would break him of his bad habits.

With the rest of the conversation practically figured out, she took the time to study him once more. From his golden hair to the deep blue of his eyes, Tamaki was physically perfect. He was strong and solid with remarkable endurance in the fronts of battle. Though he preferred brash, bold-faced attacks, she knew that he had the ability to utilize calculated moves as well. She often admitted to herself that there were many occasions that having any partner other than Tamaki would have killed her. The two worked remarkably well together (even if she did have to scold him for moving too loudly on a regular basis).

Although she was not one for jealousy, she had to admit that for the most part, he had impeccable timing that she could never manage to imitate--both in and off the fields. He always seemed to be there for her, whether it be to fend off an enemy taking advantage of her turned back, or to provide a comforting presence when her world felt like it was more uncertain than ever. As the time passed, she found it increasingly difficult to find a particular word for her feelings toward her partner. It was something between a reasonable admiration and a sickening infatuation that she couldn't seem to shake off.

The taste of her tea was rich, but sweet from a small dose of honey. His eyes locked onto hers as she finished sipping from her cup, setting it down on the barely stable railing. Though she was perfectly comfortable sinking into the depths of his eyes, she felt it necessary to break the silence.

With her inquisition, his face lost it's warm glow. She tried to search for what was bothering him, but he turned away from her gaze. Her own smile faded just slightly. Was he still playing games, or was this something serious? It was hard to tell with Tamaki--especially when he did not allow her to look into his eyes and see for herself. Since he allowed his guard to drop around her, she was able to tell a lot from his eyes, be it amusement or worry.

She took a small step toward him, questioning him with her gaze. She could feel a sense of worry beginning to take root. That sense only blossomed as he turned back to face her. Her heart fluttered hopelessly, watching him intently. Reaching forward, he gently brushed a stray piece of her hair back into place. He often did this when he was unsure of what to say. It was just a simple gesture, but was always enough to warm her cheeks.

“Kain informed me that I’m to be dispatched for a solo mission,”

With this simple sentence, Katanai felt her smile vanish from her face. She went to speak, but no words formed. What did this mean? It had been a very long time since either of them had been assigned a solo mission. Kain seemed to trust them best together, as they were quite a powerful representation of the Sasayaita Namida. But now, he was asking Tamaki to go out on his own.

Katanai knew that Tamaki was perfectly capable in handling himself on the field, but something didn't seem right. There were countless other assassins at base that were also skilled in combat. Why would he send Tamaki--one of the bases's most skilled (if not -the- most skilled)? She couldn't wrap her head around it.

His eyes contained a look entirely too grim to suit them. She turned her gaze away, unable to handle the deep-rooted sorrow they seemed to contain. Her mind began to swim, searching in futile desperation for what the correct thing to say would be. Congratulations? Best of luck? Nothing seemed to fit correctly into place. It was troubling. Swallowing, she decided to inquire for more details. There had to be something more he could tell her.

"For how long?" she urged quietly, returning her gaze to match his. Now that he was straightened up, she had to tilt her head slightly upward to look him in the eyes. She took a deep breath in, exhaling slowly and silently. Hopefully, her worry and confusion was without cause.

[Rina]

“It seems you have your work cut out for you, then,” she returned sarcastically.

“I accuse my height of being my downfall. Perhaps I should learn from you?” he jabbed with an upturned smirk. While her petite frame most likely attributed to her ability to promenade around soundlessly, he often cracked jokes at her small stature. It was an odd sight to see them as a pair simply because of their heights. He was a well-toned man nearing six feet while she was a dainty woman who barely passed five feet. In a way, it was just one of the many factors that made them an unexpected pair.

She had approached him with questioning eyes as he diverted his gaze. As he turned back, he smoothed her hair into place, buying him time to scramble for his words. Yet with his action, he had already hinted that the purpose to his visit was not to simply offer affection. They were partners, which allowed them the privilege of spending the majority of their time together. With their near-constant companionship, they were able to pick up on habits the other had that often gave insight to their thoughts long before words came into play. It was Katanai’s brew of tea that often hinted to her mood. (The more sweet the tea, the more content she was.) As for Tamaki himself, his body language was enough to allude to his thoughts. A curse that he was so simplistic, a blessing that Katanai was among the only members who could read his body language and interpret his thinking.

As he informed her of his visit, he watched as her smile faltered, nearly vanishing completely from her face. She seemed baffled, as if she were trying to decipher the meaning of his words. She looked away, as if she were unwilling to hold his gaze.

“For how long?” she questioned quietly, craning her head to return her gaze to his own.

Now he looked away, searching for his nerve in the horizon. His eyes landed upon the setting sun and lingered there, squinting at its brightness. Finally, he directed his gaze back to her, staring down at her crimson pools through his lashes. “One week,” he muttered almost sullenly.

One week was an enduring mission on its own, let alone having it be a solo mission. He couldn’t remember the last time he embarked on a solo mission. Kain was always sure to keep both him and Katanai together. They were an almost untouchable pair together and had made a name for both themselves and the Sasayaita Namida in the world of assassins. It was unusual that Kain would assign one of them to a solo mission for a day or two, let alone for one week.

He brought a hand to cup her face, allowing his thumb to lightly caress her cheek. Although it’d only be for a week, he found it hard to accept the fact that she wouldn’t be going on the mission with him. It was odd for him to imagine his trek through the woods without her five paces ahead, scolding him for his boisterous footsteps and it was even harder to envision the battlefield without her. He didn’t necessarily rely on her—although there were many times where she prevented him from being killed out of his own negligence—but he was more so accustomed to her presence. His first priority was taking care of the enemies, but following closely behind was her. Oftentimes he’d allow his attention to be diverted away from his own battle to ensure that she was handling herself well—which, more often than not, she was more than successful in her own encounters—and would lend a hand if any enemy dared sneak up on her if she were preoccupied. Although he knew his actions were borderline reckless, he valued her safety above his own. Perhaps it was foolish for him to consider her well-being more important, but somewhere within the depths of an abstruse insanity, he was willing to lay his life down on the lines for her.

“Promise me you’ll be careful while I’m gone,” he urged softly, dipping his head to brush a kiss onto her forehead. “I won’t forgive you if you get so much as a scratch on yourself.”

[Kitty]

The two seemed to be taking turns of glancing away. Her questions seemed to cut into him just as deeply as his hesitant answers bore into her. She swallowed quietly once more, throat suddenly dry. It occurred to her now that she had not made a very good beverage choice for the evening, being tea was dehydrating. If her day up until now had shown any signs of taking a drastic turn for the worse, she likely would have taken a bottle of water. At the very least, she would have never added honey to her teacup. She held a feeling of what was close to disgust for the now-made sickeningly sweet liquid. The darkness of this encounter had come as a surprise to her, as if to remind her that even the best of days could always take a sudden turn.

“One week,”

Strong feelings of worry and confusion rippled through her. Though it did not sound as such on the surface, she knew that a week was a long time for a mission: especially a strenuous one; this assignment was bound to be difficult if Kain needed someone as strong as Tamaki to go. After a brief moment of peering into his gloom-clouded eyes, it was her turn to look away and gain composure before facing toward him again. She didn't want him to see how devastated she was beginning to feel.

Selfishness was something Katanai never approved of, but she knew that all of her instincts in this case were entirely self-centered. She wanted to talk to Kain and convince him to send her along or in his stead. To tell Tamaki to stay. She knew that all of these possibilities were unfathomable. Kain would not allow a member of his organization to demand such a thing from him; he chose his assignment for a reason and, for whatever reason that may be, she was not his choice. She knew that to tell Tamaki to stay would be to tell him to refuse the wishes of the organization and thusly submerge him into a sea of troubles and punishments. No matter how logical it was to simply wish him well and see him off, the aching in her chest urged her to defy logic: something that she was not accustomed to doing.

She was a logical person. From a young age, she was raised to think things through before speaking or acting. Judgment was key for all situations. That was one thing that she often scolded Tamaki for: his rash way of acting without thinking. She would often think of battles from the past and recall countless times when her partner would sooner assist her in fighting her battles than take care of his own. It frustrated her to no end, staying awake and thinking of how she would have been able to manage holding her own ground. How he could have been killed just for swinging his sword at the wrong enemy.

Now, as if his way of automatically resorting to desperate measures was contagious, she wanted nothing more than to buck against the path that was set before him--the path that was set before them. She dared not allow herself to think of the various misfortunes that could occur over a seven-day span. In the beginning of their partnership, he had asked her (sarcastically) to "take care of him." She had always taken that request very seriously, defending him and helping him along. His leaving to fight alone meant that she was no longer able to fulfill his request. Though she knew in her mind that such was not the case, a part deep within her said that she was letting him down.

Just as she turned her gaze back to him, searching for what else to ask or the right thing to say, she felt the warm touch of his hand on her cheek. She closed her eyes and allowed herself, even if for the briefest of moments, to drop her guard entirely. With the gentle caress of his thumb, it felt as if he were trying to wipe her worries away.

"Promise me you'll be careful while I'm gone."

Her eyes remained shut, as if hoping to hold back the overwhelming swarm of emotions that were beginning to build up. She felt his lips press her forehead in a soft kiss. Per usual, her heart faltered, it's beating pattern thrown off so easily by his simple gesture. Her eyes fluttered open as he spoke once more.

“I won’t forgive you if you get so much as a scratch on yourself.”

"I should be saying that to you," she murmured, gently placing her on top of the hand that still rested on her cheek. "Don't be reckless," she warned softly, hoping her voice would not reveal just how worried and anxious she felt. The last thing she wanted to do was worry him for her sake.

[Rina]

Katanai had closed her eyes as he laid his hand on her cheek. Her face—much like the rest of her—was delicate with soft lips and sweeping eyelashes. He had often spent nights watching her as she slept—simply for precaution while they were out on missions—taking in features. Her face, although mature, had a touch of innocence that distinguished her beauty as unparalleled.

If it had been a few months prior, he would’ve easily admitted that the sight of her irked him. The way she held herself indicated nothing more than a pompous girl who was too supercilious to as much as belittle herself upon engagement with the other assassins, who possessed a cold stare, and who seemed absolutely resolute in remaining a loner in a crowded room. But having gotten to know her, he realized that she was a poised woman with crimson eyes full of words she’d never dare utter aloud, alluring hips that swayed when she walked, and a kind-hearted personality pleasant to those she was not familiar with and compassionate to those whom she felt intimate with.

His time with her had definitely opened his eyes to the true Katanai tucked beneath the exterior of her stoic shell.

“I should be saying that to you,” she murmured after opening her eyes and laying a hand over his.

Feeling the warmth of her hand made him wonder when they had become so close. He could still recall when a simple bump in the hallway would urge them onto offense, casting wary glances as if they were had suspected the other of plotting their demise. It had been tough to accept the idea of going on missions and entrusting their lives with one other when they couldn’t so much as pass the other in passing without becoming vigilant of the other, yet somewhere along the lines of countless missions, scornful remarks, and heroic rescues, they found themselves able to completely trust in one another and work as one precise unit.

Tamaki parted his lips to counter, but he couldn’t produce a sarcastic reply; the solemn atmosphere wouldn’t condone it. Instead, he answered with a quiet ‘hn’. He knew that a week apart was just as unsettling for her as it was for him. For as long as he could remember, they had been partners, able to monitor each other and ensure each other’s safety. Now with a seven day time span without each other, it was unnerving to lose the assurance of knowing she was safe and sound.

“Don’t be reckless,” she advised softly.

His hands found their way to her hips and beckoned with a gentle pressure to close in the distance between them. He dipped his head to her ear as if he were about to confide a secret to her. “When are you going to trust me?” he breathed.