When Mika wakes up, Ryan is sitting in the chair next to the hospital bed. He’s reading one of those grim Scandanavian murder mysteries he’s into, as if he didn’t get enough of that bullshit at work.
“How you feeling?” The concern in his eyes is genuine and immediate, and she feels a little bad for judging his taste in leisure reading.
“Pretty good, for having a ninja star hurled into my chest.” She pokes at the dressing gently. It still hurts, but it’s just tissue damage. She’ll have a hell of a scar when it heals, but if that’s the only souvenir she gets out of this, she’ll consider herself lucky.
“The doctors want to keep you here for a couple more days, make sure nothing else is wrong with you. Then you’re probably going to want to take some leave, as much as you like. The higher-ups are concerned about what impact such a traumatic incident might have on a truly valued employee like yourself.” His tone becomes dry, obviously parroting somebody.
“That the spiel they gave you?”
He nods. “You’re also in the same boat. Talk to HR—they’ve got everything ready to go. Full pay, a generous additional stipend, assistance in taking care of things in town if you want to get away for a while.”
“And Raizo?”
Ryan shakes his head. “Haven’t seen him since he brought you out and made sure you were all right. He disappeared into the compound and we haven’t seen him since. Turned it upside down looking for him. Well, as upside down as we could make it, considering.”
“I see.”
“Sorry.” His voice is sympathetic. “We really did look.”
Mika believes him. Europol would have wanted to interrogate Raizo, get whatever information out of him they could. But if Raizo didn’t want to be found, she doubts anybody would be able to.
“So what are you going to do with your time off?” Maybe changing the subject will take her mind off Raizo, just for a little bit.
Ryan grins, in what she thinks is supposed to be a wolfish manner. “Sip mai tais by the pool somewhere in Ibiza, go to clubs with the shittiest EDM DJs imaginable, find some pretty young things to get hot and sweaty with on the dance floor, maybe other places.”
“Yeah, Ibiza’s a good place to pick up women,” she says absently. Mostly she’s still trying to get her mind around the concept of Ryan as a person with sexual impulses. He’s still very clearly filed in the “coworker” category, although she supposes after going through a harrowing action movie experience together is helping change that. But there’s only so much she can take at a time.
“And men. And people who aren’t either.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume—”
“I never discouraged the assumption.” He raises his eyebrow in the way she’s seen on some of her queer friends, the quirk that means just let people think what they want because sometimes it’s easier than explaining.
“No, I can’t say you did.”
They sit in silence for a little bit, and Mika thinks she might have dozed off, because she startles when Ryan asks, “So what about you?”
“Me?” She repeats stupidly.
“You going to go anywhere?”
She’s quiet long enough that Ryan says, “You don’t have to decide now, or tell me if you have. It was just a question.”
She lays back. It would be nice to not be in Berlin for a bit. “I don’t want to go back to my apartment. Well, I want to get some things, but I don’t want to stay there.”
“Then don’t. Get somebody to arrange for cleaning, put your things in storage until you know what you want to do next.”
“That simple?” When he puts it that way, it really does sound doable.
“If you want it to be, yeah.”
—
Her phone pings, and she checks it. The car to take her to the train station is here.
She looks around one more time at the hotel room she’s stayed in for the past few days. The generic, anonymous luxury was exactly what she needed after what she’s been through. She doesn’t know what the hotel staff thinks her story is, or if they even care. She had room service delivered for every meal and booked in-room massages, tipping generously. It was nice, but she’s ready to move on.
Satisfied she’s not leaving anything behind, she heads to the pickup area outside. A tall shape in black stands next to the car, turns when she approaches.
“Raizo?” She wants to give him a hug, touch him to make sure he isn’t some mirage.
There’s a quirk of his mouth that isn’t quite a smile, but his eyes light up. “I am sorry, but there were things to take care of back… there that were unavoidable. I returned to Berlin as soon as I could.”
She gestures at the car. “I’m leaving for a bit. I might not be back here for… a while.” She doesn’t know how long she’s going to be away from Berlin, or if she’ll come back at all. That’s something for nebulous future Mika to deal with.
“I see.” Raizo’s voice is carefully neutral, like he's trying to not show disappointment. “Will you contact me when you have returned?”
Something in his tone tugs at her, makes her think about how it must have been to pick through the remains of his former home, unaccompanied. She then contemplates the prospect of a long stay in a place where she doesn't know anybody. If Raizo's taken care of whatever he needs to, it would be nice to have some company, especially somebody who knows what happened. Perhaps it is forward, but the past few weeks have taught her how quickly things can change. Might as well grab for what you want to hold close.
“You could come with me, if you want.”
“To the train station?” Mika doesn't know if he's being dense or just doesn’t want to presume. Either way, it's charming in a way she did not anticipate to be so affecting.
“No, to where I’m staying. There’s more than enough room for two.”
“If that is what you wish.” He sounds deferential, almost meek. This isn’t going to do.
“I’d be happy to have you along, but ultimately it’s your choice. Do you want to come with me?” She looks at him, trying not to project how much she wants him to say yes.
“I would like that.” His voice is soft, pleased, and it makes something in her chest ache.
“Get in, then.” He situates himself in the back while the driver stows her suitcase in the boot.
“There was only one passenger listed on the pickup request, Junge Frau,” the driver says, looking at her. “Is everything all right?”
Mika wants to laugh, despite his honest concern; she can’t blame him. This random guy in black skulks next to his car, talks to his fare, and then gets in. “Yeah, it is, thank you. My plans just changed very suddenly.”
The driver closes the door to the boot and looks at Raizo sitting quietly in the back. “In a good way, I hope.”
“I hope so too.”
—
It’s no trouble to purchase another ticket all the way through to Biel. Passengers are sparse at this time of year, and they have their pick of seats. Raizo’s gaze flits to a corner pair where he has sightlines to both doors into the car. Mika takes the window seat while he stows her luggage in the rack above. Almost as soon as he sits down, the whistle shrills and the train starts lurching forward.
The momentum of it shoves Raizo against her, and she instinctively reaches out, catching him at the shoulder and against his chest. The black henley he’s wearing is thin, and she can feel the heat and muscle of him right there. Her cheeks are flushing, and she wonders if it shows.
“Sorry,” she mutters, about to take her hands off him when she glances at his face. He’s staring, surprised, and his breath has quickened slightly. She hopes this isn’t some sort of weird taboo or rude, because she doesn’t know anything about Ozuni or ninja clan etiquette in general.
“Why are you apologizing?” Raizo sounds genuinely confused.
“I touched you without permission. It was accidental, but still. People get uncomfortable about that sort of thing. The wider population, not just ninjas. So.”
Raizo slides his hands around hers. They are callused, warm, as he presses his fingers to the back of her hands, strokes his thumbs against her palms.
“Mika. One of the first things we were taught was to fall properly, to land on parts of the body least likely to get hurt on impact. It was expected you would get back up on your own. You are the first person who has ever tried to catch me.”
“Oh.” What does a person even say to that? Intellectually she knows there was little praise and no affection in Raizo’s upbringing. It’s another thing entirely to learn he may never have been touched kindly in his life.
He’s still holding her hands and when he realizes it, he drops them, a bashful expression on his face. He moves away from her, settling in his chair. His arms drape loosely on the rests, seemingly relaxed, but she has no doubt he’s alert for anything that might be a threat.
“If you would like to read, or sleep, I will keep watch.”
“Thanks, but I think I’m just going to zone out for a while.” He’s confused, so she clarifies. “I’m going to look out the window, watch the scenery go by, and not think about anything.”
He mulls over the concept. “So it’s like meditation?”
“Kind of?”
“Then I will leave you to it. Let me know if you need anything.” He closes his eyes, starts breathing slow and even. Maybe he’s meditating now.
She does zone out for a while, watching the city and suburbs fade into countryside and farmland. It’s soothing, to just let things be for the first time in a while. The hotel stay helped, but it’s only now she feels truly relaxed for the first time since this all started.
She must have fallen asleep, because the angle of the light coming in from the windows has changed. And she’s slumped against Raizo’s shoulder. He’s stock-still, like he’s afraid any movement will wake her.
Oh god, she is so, so fucked.