evillurks | Sake owed

Current Location: Rettigue Apartment, Manhattan, NY

Entry tags:

Sake owed

The Rettigue apartment has sat empty for a few days, as The Shadow worked out of the Sanctum and another apartment across town, closer to the area he's been watching. With another drug ring at least temporarily stifled, he is ready to migrate back to this place that is the closest thing to a home he has.

He is also likely to arrive late to his own arranged meeting, leaving Ichi to jump at the opening of the door. The muted sounds beyond indicate a quiet hall rather than the outdoors, and the rattling cough that accompanies the entrance should reassure him to who is entering there.

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"Killer's instinct." He clutches the cup carefully as he mumbles the words, reciting the phrase that for nearly a week, had vexed him from the lips of a kind-hearted samurai.

"That's a good name for it." The Shadow nods over his tea, sighs and coughs, and sips. "I have a killer's instinct, and I'm a genius, and I could be a master criminal with no match to oppose me." There is a definite tone of dread as he says it, and very little ego. Perhaps that emotion itself is what keeps him from falling to the wrong side.

"A good man I once knew called it that." He sets down his empty cup and calmly picks up his cane, holding it a few inches in the air. "I'm so inclined to let my sword do my talking for me, it's hard to understand how to do anything without it anymore."

"Even in the Nexus? It's useless there, you know. It's no threat, because you can't hurt anyone with it, and no one can threaten you in return..." He massages his temples with one hand, then toys with his ring absently. "You could always move to a closely parallel world, you know. One enough like your own to be easy to live in, but where you don't have a reputation to work against you."

Solving Ichi's problems feels easier than dealing with his own.

"That's why I don't pick arguments there. I don't know what I'd do." He leans the cane against his knee and rubs the back of his neck. "The thought never even crossed my mind: about moving. I think I'd still find a way to get myself in trouble, though. I'm always getting into things I shouldn't. I can't mind my own business. Besides, I'd feel like I was running away, or giving up."

"Maybe you should pick fights there, just to learn how to get out of them..." The Shadow gives voice to a whispery, wheezing chuckle that ends in a few coughs. "You pick fights with me."

"You start them." He gives a wry smile. "You're a very stubborn man."

"Hmh. It usually serves me well." The Shadow isn't feeling well, in a number of ways, but Ichi has still managed to drag the trace of a smile out of him. "And I'm not an ox. Myra calls me an old tiger, thank you." This time there's a trace of pride. He's grown fond of the nickname.

Ichi's eyebrows raise up at the mention of a woman's name and his eyelids flutter.

"You have a lady-friend?" He chuckles gently. "You didn't strike me as the type, Shadow-san..." Belatedly, he adds: "And you're still an ox as long as you keep calling me a damn yakuza."

His ears turn faintly pink, and The Shadow is deeply grateful that Ichi can't see it. "She's an agent, and she's young enough to be my daughter." He winces, then, doing the math. "Possibly grand-daughter. I've never allowed myself that kind of distraction, no." The hints of embarrassment in his voice are very subtle indeed, but someone with Ichi's skill just may detect it.

"And it was only the once, and I apologized, didn't I?" A grumpy retort is an easy defense to slide into, and he hopes it will distract Ichi from further conversation about Myra, or his lack of a love-life in general.

Ichi scoffs when The Shadow says never, but lets it drop. He's not here to embarrass him, but he has filed away the information for fodder for a lighter conversation at some other date.

"Fine." Ichi sighs as he rolls his shoulders forward, shifting momentum to allow him to stand awkwardly. He still walks a bit like he's unaccustomed to having eaten so much. "But I think it's time I did the job I came here to do." His tea has been finished for a while.

Never is an exaggeration, but certainly he has lived like a monk since he took up the mantle of black and started his present career. It is long enough, now, to feel like never. The indiscretions of youth feel like a lifetime ago.

"Mm. I'm not sure I want you giving me a massage while you're angry at me. That sounds hazardous to my health." He coughs, pulling himself to sit up properly and set the dregs of his tea aside. "And I do apologize. Obviously my rein on my temper has been slipping, lately. I'll have to work harder to control that..." Every word rings with honest repentance.

"Don't worry about it, at least, not around me." Ichi offers a gentle smile as he sits down, placing his cane to the side as sets his hands on The Shadows shoulders, and then starts to carefully work at them. "Anywhere specific that's bothering you?" Once he feels comfortable working with The Shadow's wiry physique, he'll start to apply the usual pressure.

The Shadow makes a noncommittal grunt, but turns sideways on the sofa. He is very tense under the first touch, unused to getting a massage from anyone. Ichi may have trouble through the thick sweater, particularly since there's another shirt beneath. It's been cold weather. "...Lower back, I guess. I shouldn't do paperwork at the coffee table so much." He seems awkward with the entire situation, now that his guard is back up again.

The thick clothing does provide a challenge, but he's dealt with just as many layers on prior patrons, and he's been trained. It gives him a little more leeway with pressure as he starts to work more at The Shadow's middle and lower back. He notices the tension as more than just a sore back, but doesn't give it a second thought. Many people he's massaged have been wary of him.

He does, however, pause long enough to slide his cane up to The Shadow, essentially disarming himself.

"Lower back. Let me know if there's any spots while I'm working that you'd like taken care of." He digs into a tense knot and gives a frustrated grunt and mumbles. "...like massaging a rock."

However reluctantly, and unaware that it might make his work more of a challenge, The Shadow tugs the sweater up while Ichi's hands are at his lower back, and tugs it off over his head. The cotton shirt beneath is much thinner material, and through it he'll be better able to feel the muscles, bones, and a scattering of scars. "Not... mmmhg... really." The sensation is a mix of pain and relief, but the sound itself is not really a complaint.

He notes the slide of the cane, but does not reach to touch it or move it further out of reach, as a sign of respect on his own part.

Ichi's hands are about as sensitive as his ears, even for all the calluses that cover them from hard labor. He notes anything out of the ordinary, that's now more apparent through the thinner shirt.

"I don't know how you manage to stand up." Another knot, and more pressure. His back tells of years of abuse to Ichi. "I don't think I'll be able to get everything." But he'll be damned if he doesn't try.

Decades of abuse, in fact, but a regular routine of stretching, yoga, and tai-chi have kept him in better shape than he might otherwise be. He gradually begins to relax under the kneading hands, although a few times the pressure higher on his back sends him into a few rattling coughs. Sitting sideways on the couch, he can lean against the back cushions, slumping to one side. It's not an ideal pose for the masseur to work on, but he's tired.

"...Mm? I'm sure whatever you do is good enough... is it really that bad?" Once he starts to relax into the massage, the rolling touch makes him sleepy.

"Well, not bad, just tight." Ichi stops one hand and uses it to gently urge The Shadow to sit up. "Sit up, please." He speaks in a gentle, professional tone, one significantly different from his usual inflections. "Thank you." He resumes, pausing when The Shadow coughs, but continuing after the fits pass. "So they call you an Old Tiger, eh?"

The Shadow straightens with a grunt, forcing himself awake. "Hmh. She came up with it. In China, the oldest tigers are respected for their cunning... of course, realistically, those are the ones most likely to become manhunters..." That particular morbid truth is one that strikes a chord with his recent violent urges.

"Women have an interesting way with words..." He works with more vigor that should infuse a little more energy into The Shadow, now that he's managed to relax him a little bit. "This lady-agent sounds very clever." Being of a simpler mindset, Ichi usually tries to steer clear of such women in general. It might be a result of his culture, but he's not particularly fond of women who are always a step ahead of him.

"Hmh." This time there is a hint of amusement in the sound. "Clever, and masochistic enough to work for both myself and my alternate." There is much that he thinks of Myra, but this at least gives nothing of what he might feel away. Under the massage he stretches subtly, aiding the process of easing tension out of his muscles.

"Two Shadows?" For a brief moment, Ichi's hands stop at the thought, and then resume as he gives an amused chuckle. "One wasn't enough?" There's many ways that comment could be taken, and he knows it, but it's also meant as a compliment towards her in the same turn.

The massage gets a little more energetic as Ichi works to return The Shadow from the lethargic state he'd nearly brought him, into a more aware and ready one.

"He's more of an earlier version... Myra's from his world. The one that lived in mine is gone." He frowns, shivers, and rolls his shoulders carefully. "Most of my original agents are. It's a terrible thing to outlive the people you knew..." Ichi's work is making his back feel better, but his state of mind is still on the gloomy side.

Ichi's only thirty, and he's already familiar with the sentiment, even if many of the people he's cared about have met an untimely end. He's finishing the massage and once he's done, he lifts his hands from The Shadow's shoulders.

"They fought beside you." He gives a solemn nod as he reaches out to the coffee table, carefully finding the sake bottle and cups. He pours a small amount into each, hardly more than a swallow, and holds one out to The Shadow.

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