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Rumi groaned as she got a text from the train company – her train was delayed due to unexpected heavy snowfall. She’d been called to Hokkaido on short notice and hadn’t had time to pack – one of the unpleasant realities of working without an agency and roaming all over Japan. Her trousers and fitted turtleneck sweater weren’t cutting it, her prosthetic arm was getting chilly and her stump was starting to ache.
Her ears twitched as snowflakes started to land on them – not the idyllic, fluffy kind either, but cold, wet lumps of sleet that’d get her ears and tail all wet and matted. Yuck! And she hadn’t even brought a hat. She hurried back under the waiting area roof, but even that wouldn’t be much help once the snow started coming down, not if that near-horizontal wind was any indication.
Just as she was debating taking her chances running back to town and finding somewhere to spend the night, someone else got on the platform. Whoever it was, they were much better prepared for the weather in stylish, fur-lined leather boots, jeans, and a leather jacket with a cozy fleece hoodie underneath, the hood pulled snugly up over their head. They also had a duffle bag slung over their back.
Their eyes met and Rumi cursed internally as she recognized the new arrival – Ryukyu, the Dragoon Hero. And she was on her way over.
“Miruko, hi,” Ryukyu said, and Rumi had to crane her neck to look up if she wanted to make eye contact. How vexing.
“Ryukyu,” Rumi nodded. “Not flying today?”
Ryukyu gave a short, humorless laugh and shook her head. “After that fiasco this morning? Way too tired. I’m planning to sleep all the way to Tokyo.”
“See, this is why I don’t work with an agency – it makes you soft,” Rumi said, poking Ryukyu in the shoulder. Actually, it was a real stroke of luck that Ryukyu had been flying by that morning – she’d kicked ass and really pulled Rumi’s tail out of the fire, not that she’d ever admit it.
“I might be soft, but at least I’m warm.” Ryukyu smirked and glanced at Rumi’s ears and tail, which, despite her best efforts, were visibly shivering.
Rumi was speechless for a moment. Then she barked out a big laugh and playfully whacked Ryukyu’s shoulder. “Hah! Listen to you! Earlier this year you woulda said something all humble and shit. Like,” and she held one hand over her heart and looked solemnly off into the distance, in a reasonable impersonation of Ryukyu at the hero ranking earlier that year, “Indeed, such softness is why I would’ve declined the no. 10 spot if I could… I’m simply not worthy of such recognition, unlike you, Miruko, who should be no. 1 based on looks alone...”
Ryukyu laughed and ran a hand through her hair self-consciously, making her hood fall back. “I like to think I’ve loosened up a little bit since then,” she said before looking Rumi critically up and down, with a little bit of concern, “But seriously, you look like you’re freezing.” And she dropped her duffle bag and started taking off her jacket.
“Woah, woah, I’m fine!” Rumi tucked her ears back in annoyance and fended Ryukyu off.
“Come on,” Ryukyu cajoled, holding out the jacket and giving Rumi a sharp-toothed grin. “I’m a soft agency hero, remember? If you refuse, it’ll hurt my feelings.”
Rumi eyed the jacket, which was extremely tempting, and Ryukyu, who looked really hot with her hoodie pulling tight across her broad, muscular shoulders.
“If it’ll make you happy,” she sniffed, taking the jacket and shrugging into it, fumbling a little getting her prosthetic through the sleeve.
Rumi tried not to show how happy she felt as she got the jacket on and zipped it up – wow, that was so much better! It wasn’t just that it was blissfully warm from Ryukyu’s body heat: the leather was cracked and worn, wonderfully soft and supple. So comfy Rumi never wanted to take it off. And it smelled nice, like old leather and Ryukyu’s cologne and –well, it just smelled like Ryukyu, and Rumi had to resist the ridiculous urge to bury her nose in the collar and take a long, deep breath.
Rumi’s ears were still cold, but since the jacket was too big for her it actually covered her tail, which was a big relief. The arms were too long as well, so the cuffs fell past her knuckles. She nestled into it and shoved her hands gratefully into the pockets.
“I probably look ridiculous,” she grumbled, “This is way too big for me.”
“It looks good on you,” Ryukyu said softly, slinging her duffle bag back over her shoulder and fidgeting with the strap.
Stupid, Rumi thought, craning her neck to peer down the tracks and hoping Ryukyu wouldn’t notice her blush.
A few people came onto the platform, and Rumi and Ryukyu had to sign a round of autographs and then answer the usual fan questions about the villain they’d taken down that morning. The usual hero stuff. Rumi didn’t usually mind – she loved getting her ego stroked after all – but this time she felt kind of annoyed at the intrusion.
The train finally pulled up, they all piled in, and Rumi pointedly towed Ryukyu to a different car than the fans.
“You’re still too polite,” Rumi teased as she chose seats for them. “Gotta learn when to ditch the fans.”
*
Rumi came awake to the train’s PA system announcing her stop, and she guiltily jerked her head off Ryukyu’s shoulder, hoping that she was still asleep and wouldn’t notice the patch of drool on her hoodie. She stood up and, looking ruefully at the snow drifting down outside the window, starting taking the leather jacket off.
“You can hang onto that,” Ryukyu said, making Rumi jump. “Just give it back to me whenever.”
“You sure?” Rumi asked suspiciously, not even sure why she was being suspicious.
“Yeah.” Ryukyu said, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. When Rumi still looked dubious, she exaggeratedly rolled her eyes. “Look, I have my own clothing line, I can get jackets whenever I want. I’ve got a hundred jackets.”
“Right. ‘Dragoir,’” Rumi scoffed, but zipped the jacket up fully again and snuggled into it (while trying not to look like she was snuggling into it). “I’ll buy you a coffee or something when I see you. As thanks.”
Ryukyu gave her a big smile that made her stomach flip flop. “I’d like that.”
*
Rumi had to force herself not to wear the jacket everywhere, even though she really wanted to, but the damn thing was eroding her defenses. It was just so comfy, and it smelled so nice, and it was warm, as if it retained some of Ryukyu’s body heat. She ended up wearing it any chance she got.
And she couldn’t stop thinking about Ryukyu, for obvious reasons. Who wouldn’t? Rumi found herself daydreaming about what Ryukyu might be able to do with those sharp little teeth of hers, and her strong arms… it was a big distraction.
So three weeks later she detoured through Tokyo, so she could get rid of the damn thing, and with it, her silly little crush on Ryukyu, so she could get back to being a hero. She would’ve mailed the jacket back to Ryukyu’s Agency, but she had promised to buy her a coffee, after all, and she never went back on her word.
So Rumi grudgingly ended up in a cafe with Ryukyu, and even more grudgingly, found that she was having a good time. Not for any specific reason – maybe it was just that Ryukyu was nice to look at.
Very nice to look at.
“So what do you do for fun?” Ryukyu asked at one point in the conversation.
“It’s kinda nerdy, so don’t make fun of me,” Rumi threatened. “I like videogames. Especially fighting games.”
Ryukyu finished her hot chocolate, put the cup carefully back in its saucer and slid it to one side. She gave Rumi a sharp-toothed grin. “You know, there’s an arcade just a few blocks from here. I play a pretty good Ramlethal Valentine.”
Rumi’s eyes lit up; she chugged the rest of her coffee and shot to her feet. “You’re on!”
They were in the arcade for hours. Rumi couldn’t remember the last time she had so much fun.
The sun had gone down by the time they emerged. “Damn, it’s later than I thought. I better get back to the agency,” Ryukyu said regretfully.
“Oh. Yeah, sure, no big deal,” Rumi shrugged, trying to squash down an unexpected surge of disappointment. She shucked the leather jacket and handed it to Ryukyu. “Here you go. And thanks, it, uh, it kept me really warm.”
“My pleasure,” Ryukyu said, taking the jacket but making no move to leave. “I’m glad you came to see me. To be honest, I was expecting you to blow me off. You’ve always been kind of a loner.”
Rumi would’ve been insulted by that if it hadn’t been completely true. “I guess I’ve changed, too. Six months ago I’d rather have frozen to death on that train platform than take somebody’s jacket.” Rumi scuffed her boots on the pavement as she pulled her spare coat out of her travel bag and put it on. “Much less waste an afternoon in an arcade.”
Ryukyu pulled the leather jacket on and shrugged into it. And holy crap, did she look good in leather. Rumi tried not to stare, but she was not above looking appreciatively. “If you’ve got more time to waste, I’ll be done with my agency stuff in a few hours. If you wanna get dinner?” Ryukyu asked.
“I-I’d love to, but...” Rumi said in a pained voice, and hefted her travel bag.
“Ah… Gotcha. Well, the offer’s open the next time you’re in town.”
“If things go well I might be back through in a few days,” Rumi said, and Ryukyu looked a little happier.
“Let me know. Anyway, I really gotta go now, so… see you, Miruko.” Ryukyu waved and turned to go.
“Rumi,” Rumi said, and Ryukyu turned around and looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “I think we’ve saved each others’ butts enough to be on a first name basis, don’t you?”
“Rumi, then,” Ryukyu said with a big smile, and the way she said it gave Rumi butterflies.
*
Rumi made it a habit to check in on Ryukyu, and the jacket went back and forth between them,with Rumi contriving to be jacketless at the appropriate times(she didn’t always have to try that hard – being a hero is a hazardous business, and sometimes your clothes really do get shredded).
Every time she got it back it smelled like Ryuko again.
*
Rumi was wearing the jacket the first time they kissed. She was sulking about not wanting to give it back, because it was cold and raining, and she didn’t want to get wet. Ryuko tucked one of Rumi’s box braids behind her ear – a shiver went down her back – grabbed the lapels of the jacket and pulled her close, and not in a gentle way either. Rumi squeaked in surprise and gripped handfuls of Ryuko’s shirt.
“You’re such a brat,” Ryuko said, and kissed her. Rumi wrapped her arms around Ryuko’s shoulders, melted against her and lost herself in the kiss. Ryuko’s lips were so soft and warm, and she was kissing Rumi like she was savoring every moment. Rumi later realized she was also being careful not to accidentally nip her with her sharp teeth.
That made Rumi feel so cared for, so held. An unfamiliar, frightening feeling that made her want to pull away. She hoped she’d have the courage not to.
She did end up giving Ryuko back the jacket, that time. Her smell had nearly faded from it, and Rumi was looking forward to getting it back.
*
Ryuko was wearing it one night they got jumped by a pair of villains in a backstreet. They were both beaten up and covered in blood by the end, but Rumi didn’t care. “You’re so hot when you’re kicking the shit out of somebody,” she breathed as she pressed hard kisses down Ryuko’s neck and collarbone, “And you’re so hot when you’re all beat up and bloody.”
Ryuko kissed her hard and, for the first time, without care, so much so she actually drew blood from Rumi’s lower lip. Her gasp of pain only made Ryuko kiss her harder.
Rumi loved every second of it.
*
Rumi was a roamer and Ryukyu, as a hero with a great deal of mobility, was often called away on long term missions. Sometimes they didn’t see each other for weeks or months, and it was damn hard.
When Ryuko had the jacket, and she felt particularly lonely, she’d snuggle up to it at night so she could fall asleep. She never admitted this to anybody, least of all Rumi, who’d never let her live it down.
It sucked when she didn’t have the jacket. Maybe it was a dragon thing, but she felt very possessive, very touchy feely, and she liked having things with Rumi’s smell around.
One morning as she was leaving Rumi’s extremely spartan apartment – leaving the leather jacket behind – she picked out one of Rumi’s t-shirts: one of her oldest ones, a big one she slept in that would more than fit Ryuko.
“I’m taking this,” she told Rumi, folding it carefully and putting it in her bag.
At this stage in their relationship, she was fully aware that Rumi was a bratty bottom, but a bottom nonetheless, and it made her feel good when Ryuko bossed her around and did things without her permission (within reason, of course).
“I really like that shirt,” she groused, crossing her arms over her chest and refusing to meet Ryuko’s eyes. “So you better give me one of yours next time.”
“I promise,” Ryuko said.
Their goodbye kiss was extra soft and tender that day.
*
It was Ryuko’s turn to have the jacket. As she put it on she gave an exasperated sigh and patted down the various pockets. “I keep telling you not to leave your empty snack boxes and stuff in here,” she grumbled as she pulled out a seemingly endless array of empty boxes and packets and threw them in the trash. “God, Rumi.”
Rumi’s heart leaped into her throat. This was it. No going back. “That one’s not empty,” she said as Ryuko pulled out the last one, from the inner breast pocket, which was unmistakably different from the rest.
Ryuko’s eyes lit up with realization, and she opened the box with trembling hands to reveal the ring inside.
Rumi shifted from foot to foot, crossed her arms over her chest and looked away. “Y-you can do whatever you want with that, I guess.”
When she looked back, Ryuko seemed to be crying with laughter.
Rumi balled her hands into fists and stamped her foot, her face going even redder than it had been. “What’s so funny?!”
Ryuko wiped tears out of her eyes, got down on one knee and held out the ring. She looked up at Rumi and smiled. “I just… I love you, Rumi. Will you marry me?”