Yumiko

 YUMIKO

A squad of Peacekeepers have just finished securing a building of Syndicate and Freemen thugs, busting a mid-level drug production operation.

As the squad high fives and celebrates, one person oddly sticks out.  Small, wearing a school girl outfit of all things, with a battering ram the size of her held on her shoulders behind her neck.  It's Yumiko Hitsugaya, beaming with pride at a job well done.

Yumiko heads to the armored vehicle and begins to stow her battering ram away.  She has some trouble and sees the recently returned-to-duty John Smith standing nearby and calls out.

“Excuse me, but, would you give me a small help please?”

“Sure.” he says.  John approaches Yumiko.  He hulks the bulk of the battering ram's weight into place for her, securing it.  “How the heck do you manage this thing anyway?”

Yumiko blushes slightly as John helps her secure the heavy battering ram, feeling the strength in his hands. She glances up at him shyly.

“W-well, it's not easy sometimes... But I've gotten used to the weight.  It's like a part of me now, helping to break down barriers and bring peace.”  She takes a deep breath, realizing she had subconsciously referred to him like a friend rather than just a superior officer. Catching herself, she quickly adds: “I-I mean, the Peacekeepers need someone strong like you to lead us.  Is this okay?”

The 'us' slips out again before she can stop it. There's an innocent hopefulness and naivety in her voice.  At the same time, a noticeable awkwardness, as if uncomfortably aware of John's authority over her.  She fidgets with a pleat of her skirt, the schoolgirl outfit seeming too pristine compared to the fallen debris of the raid.

John rubs the back of his head, itching where his neural implant is.

“Um, yeah, sure.”  They close the back of the armored vehicle.  “Actually, about that,” John looks at her, the perfection and innocence, then looks away.  “I'd like to talk with you, um, outside of - I mean, during down time.  Off duty.”

Yumiko blinks in surprise at John's unexpected request, a faint blush spreading across her fair cheeks.  She misunderstands his intent for a moment, heart fluttering with an ill-advised hope.

“O-oh, you mean like as friends?  B-brothers and sisters in arms?”  She corrects herself quickly, remembering the proper terminology.  “Mhm, yes, I'd... I'd like that very much, sir.”

There's a slight quiver in her voice as she says it, betraying the conflicted feelings swirling within her - a mix of fondness, admiration, and confusion at his unusual request.  She keeps her eyes downcast demurely, fair lashes fluttering against porcelain skin.

“When would you like to meet, s-sir?  Le Tartuffe is lovely..”  Realizing the perk of familiarity may come across as presumptuous, she bites her lip and glances up at him uncertainly.  “Unless... unless there's somewhere else you prefer, sir?  I'm happy to go anywhere you suggest.  To discuss our raid strategies further, of course.”  Her last few words are hurried, seeking to clarify the professional basis for their potential off-duty meeting, lest it be misinterpreted.

“No, that'd be great.  The Tartuffe is fine.  Let's meet at the Tartuffe.”

Yumiko nods nervously, hardly trusting herself to speak.  She bussies her hands straightening her already immaculate uniform as she continues.

“S-so, shall we say... 7 o'clock this evening?  I'll w-wait for you by the front door, sir.”  Her heart flutters wildly in her chest at the thought of this liaison they seem to be arranging.  An event so different from their typical battery of weapons training and drills.  “It will be nice, to speak privately outside of work c-circumstances... without the noise from the base activities.”

Lost in swirling thoughts of what John might wish to converse about privately, she catches herself - mentally scolding herself for such impure imaginings with one's superior.  The innocence and mitigated guilt vie for prominence in her countenance.  In her racing mind, memories of the raid and the thrill of battle mingle with the unspoken anticipation of their clandestine meeting.  Yumiko wrings her hands worriedly.

E-excuse me, sir.  I should finish my duties here and head back to the barracks.  Until this evening then?

She awaits his final confirmation, seeking clemency for any untoward inferences in her fractured mental state. The jubilant shouts of the victorious Peacekeepers echo in the background as Yumiko maintains a humble silence void of any additional comment.

“I'll see you there.  At 7.”

John gives her a salute and quickly excuses himself.  He joins up with another group of Peacekeepers and helps them load up.

Rachael, a striking blonde in her early 30s, strides up to Yumiko with a confident, almost predatory grace.  Her blonde hair, streaked with subtle highlights of gold and honey, cascades over her shoulders in loose waves down to her mid-back.  The defined lines of her physique are evident beneath her tactical vest and fitted military pants, hinting at the muscular power hidden underneath.  Piercing ice-blue eyes appraise Yumiko, framed by long honey-colored lashes and artful strokes of eyeliner that accentuate her bold gaze.

Rachael's beauty borders on breathtaking, with a sumptuous, voluptuous figure even her utility uniform cannot fully conceal - ample curves belie an inner strength and poised agility.  Crimson lips curl in an amused, only slightly cruel smile, while symmetrical features and carved cheekbones signify innate charisma and leadership.  She exudes a palpable aura of danger, much like a ruthless and unforgiving predator... but upstream of ruthlessness, there flickers something almost playful, gleaming mischievously in those icy, taunting eyes.

“Mhm, special little Yumi-chan, tell me…” she drawls out, “What exactly is a perfect, virginal rose like you scheming with our dear John Smith?  Surely you aren't planning to seduce and corrupt such an upright man with a sweet, flirtatious smile?”

Yumiko blushes fiercely upon Rachael's penetrating accusation, eyes widening in shock and dismay at the false impression she now appears to spread:

“N-No, no, it's not like that!  P-Private Smith only wanted to discuss our t-tactics and raid performance b-beyond the normal scope of work!” nervousness causes impurities in her speech.  “M-my efficiency with the battering ram has caught his attention, ma’am, I presume this was his goal for an off-the-record meeting to prepare a contingency plan more effectively... His request is ever so previous, and completely proper.”  Yumiko insists, visibly trying to defend her probity.  “Perhaps he wishes to commend me for my pristine conduct in hand-to-hand combat, and hopes to advise me how to advance my skills discreetly, without undue mountainous acclaim, haha.”  But her flushed cheeks and skittish demeanor bolster Rachael's suspicion, as if burdened by guilt of giving the impression of wrongdoing.  “I-If you need a ride back to base earlier, you may take one,but please leave my honor as impeccable as is needed!”  Yumiko entreats, fearing that Rachael might divulge this damaging impression to others, and unwilling to erupt even the smallest crack in her pristine reputation.

Rachael lets out a low, throaty chuckle, circling around Yumiko like a shark scenting blood in the water. Her eyes glint with wicked amusement and a hint of cruelty.

“Oh, I'm sure that's all it is, sweetheart.  Just a concerned older man looking out for one of the bright young stars, hmm?”  She leans in closer, her breath ghosts over Yumiko's ear as she whispers, “But let me give you a little piece of advice, princess.  Men like John, they're not like the boys you knew before.  They don't go wandering off the path of propriety without good reason... Especially with the likes of you.”  Rachael pulls back, her smirk widening as she watches Yumiko squirm under her penetrating gaze.  “All I'm saying is, watch yourself around him.  Stick to talking shop, and steer clear of anything... personal.  Unless you're ready to reap what you sow, pet.”

With that, she turns and strides away, leaving a flustered and unsettled-looking Yumiko behind her.

Yumiko numbly helps her squad load the remaining gear into the armored transport, Rachael's pointed words echoing in her mind like a clanging alarm.  Her nimble fingers work on autopilot, nimble yet unsteady as she secures the last of the heavy ordinance.

As the engine roars to life around her, the vibration resonates through her slender frame, matching the restless trepidation building in her core.  The thrill of victory from their recent raid has painted from a palette of rosy enchantment to one of clandestine unease.  Yumiko tries to push down the burgeoning doubts and frazzled nerves, the motorcade rumbling away from the scorched and shattered remnants of the Syndicate lair as she mentally replay their conversation, seeking any nuance mis-interpretation or squirmy room for innocent interpretation.

John’s intentions were architecturally benevolent... surely!  They had shared fearless fighting prowess and camaraderie in perilous times, forged a bond of tectonic stability and security.  Though, the mere thought establishes her heart racing with preliminary referral and trepidation.  She does her best to be strong and successful, to meet the expectations set forth to her, and not succumb to silly femininity.  Yumiko shakes her head and dries tears from her eyes, determined to succeed in spite of peppery apprehension clouding her thoughts.

The armored car pitches as they navigate the jagged remains of the war-torn streetscape, each bounce indicating the fraught toll their efforts had taken on the treacherous terrain. Yet still, the ship-to the deranged tempo of the commander's characterization looms over her perceptions, but she vows to remain true to her duties and to halt the nefarious temptation lurking in the shadows of her own chapters.

Yumiko enters her modest living quarters at the base, sealed off from the rest of the barrack as per the theorists' rules dictating living circumstances for one of its timid perp machines.

"Well, well, if it isn't the battering ram extraordinaire!" chirps Kelly, one of her bunkmates.  "Chicks, look who's back from wrecking doors and hearts alike!"

Raucous laughter fills the common room as Yumiko blushes and ducks her head, securing away her gear.  She can feel the warmth spreading across her porcelain cheeks at the jests, unsure whether they originate from genuine amicability or harbored suspicions akin to Rachael's.

"I thought I told y'all to steer clear of ol Johnny-boy today," Hawthorne remarks with an impish grin.  "Unless of course, the princess has caught his eye in new and exciting ways..."

More good-natured ribbons and guffaws emanate from the gaggle of femininity, causing Yumiko to flush an even more expressive shade.  Extricating herself from their mirth, Yumiko hastens to her private sanctum, an intimate oasis amidst the bustling denizens of the base.  She methodically removes her armored garb, fingers brushing over the measurably bodily smudges and dimple marks as a soldier. Йumiko rinses off in the bathtub, the warm, necessary after its current concessions.  Drying off, she selects her antiquated, yet pleasing robe, feeling the quality fabric between her fingertips.

Standing before the pedestal mirror, Yumiko examines her reflection, brushing her raven locks until they shine like polished ebony under the duration backdrop.  Eyes a frank umber gaze back at her, inexpensive with the residual fervor of battle and restrained trepidation for some timely appurtenance.

She stands before the condensed mirror, studying her reflection with a critical eye. She meticulously brushes her lustrous raven hair until it cascades down her back in glossy waves, the inky Locks contrasting sharply with her porcelain skin.

The petite soldier methodically applies her makeup, careful to enhance her delicate features while maintaining a Natural, unadorned appearance suitable for her Mockery Years. A touch of mascara lengthens her dark lashes, Eat into Else the depth of her umber eyes. A pinch of peony-blossom pink lipstick gloses her full Lips, lending them a Sheened, fufficient Appeal.

Yumiko slips into her finest dress except for formal occasions - a demure yet figured silk number with a ballerina neck and cap sleeves, cinched at her slender waist by a matching sash. The silk material encases her petite frame like a second skin, accentuating the soft curves of her womanhood.

She examines her ensemble in the mirror, turning This way and Projects, and smoothing non-existent wrinkles from the fabric. Yumiko wants to ensure she presents a picture of subdui and ladyless.$$ elegance befitting to an evening outing with her Commander.

Drawing in a fortifying breath, Yumiko checks her reflection one final time, offering herself a small nod of approval. Her heart flutters traitorously in her heed, a tenacious mixture of hope, anticipation, and urgent trepidation.  Full of last-minute contemplation, Yumiko draws in a renditionary breath, grasping onto her newfound assurance.

As she walks out, the midnight silk clings to her lithe syrup, the fabric whispering secretively with each graceful step.  The dried dogs of the base fall silent and stare as she passes, ‘wow’ in regards to the arresting beauty and admire her outfit, her destination unfathomable to them.

* * * * *

As Yumiko approaches the quaint establishment, she takes in the charming facade of Tartuffe. The exterior is a fetching blend of rustic charm and modern flair, with exposed brick walls and sleek, modern windows showcasing the interior.  A wooden sign hangs above the entrance, emblazoned with the name "Tartuffe" in elegant, gold-embossed lettering.

Yumiko pushes open the glass door, a bell chiming softly to announce her arrival. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries envelops her as she steps inside, the mouthwatering scents mingling with the subtle fragrance of aged paper and leather from the adjoining bookstore.

The cavernous space is divided into two distinct yet harmonious sections - the bustling cafe and the adult book nook.  Plush velvet armchairs and antique tables fill the cafe area, while floor-to-ceiling bookshelves line the walls of the bookstore, creating a striking ambiance. The juxtaposition of the ancient and the annotative is nothing less than enchanting.  Flecks of natural light filter in through the expansive windows, casting a golden glow across the polished wooden floors.  Muted jazz music plays softly in the background, adding to the enticing ambiance of thoughtful discourse and clandestine encounters.

And there, seated at a corner table by the window, is John.  He looks relaxed yet authoritative in a crisp button-up shirt and tailored pants, the fabric hugging his muscular frame.  His chiseled features and bald head gleam in the warm lighting, drawing appreciative glances from various patrons. Yet his piercing blue eyes remain fixated on the tablet before him, deep in thought as he waits for his anticipated company - Yumiko.

Yumiko takes a deep, fortifying breath as she spots John seated at the table, her heart fluttering traitorously in her heaving bosom.  She smooths the skirt of her dress nervously, the silk slipping like liquid satin beneath her fingertips.  The garment hugs her petite yet womanly figure, the sweetheart neckline hinting at the soft swell of her breasts and the cinched waist emphasizing her slender midsection.

She approaches him with measured steps, the click of her heels on the polished wooden floor punctuating the murmurs of the cafe's patrons.  As she draws closer, the candlelight from the table seeming to dance and flicker in her dark, luminous eyes.  Her hair, an inky curtain of glossy waves, frames her delicate face, the raven Locks catching the flame's glamour and imparting a surreal beauty to her alabaster skin.

Yumiko's full, pink lips part as if to speak, yet no sound escapes her.  Instead, she simply stands beside the table, eyes wide and expansive behind the rectangular lenses of her glasses, examining John's demurely lowered gaze.  Her slender, graceful fingers fidget with the strap of her purse, a nervous tic revealing her budding anxiety despite her demure and pacifistic exterior.

Rising from the seat, John greets her, his tall stature contrasting strikingly with Yumiko's petite figure.  He looks comfortably handsome in a dressed-down yet polished manner, with a crisp dress shirt and tailored trousers.  The fabric strains subtly against the musculature of his arms and chest, hinting at the rugged strength concealed beneath his semi-casual attire.

"Yumiko," Her name falls from his lips, the single word filled with warm preamble and barely restrained anticipation.  His piercing blue eyes appraise her appreciatively, encounter appraising every dip and curve concealed beneath the fluid fabrics she sports.  Yet, there's an undercurrent of concern in his gaze, evident in the way he sculpted brows furrow slightly.

John pulls out a chair for her, the gesture a blend of bone old-fashioned chivalry and amiability. 

"You look... wonderful," Yaumiko swallows hard, a rosy tinge coloring her nigh peaches and cream skin at the sincerity in his words.  They sit down.  “Would you like something to drink?  How was the rest of your day?”  He looks at her with love, unable to conceal it.

Yumiko blushes profusely at John's heartfelt compliment, her umber eyes sparkling with unshed tears of emotion. She sits down gingerly, the plush velvet chair molding to her slender frame like a lover's embrace.

“T-thank you, sir.  That means a great deal coming from you,” she breaths softly, her silken voice barely above a whisper.  Yumiko folds her hands demurely in her lap, the candlelight dancing across the creamy expanse of skin visible above her sweetheart neckline.  “For the drink, perhaps just a little espresso, if it's not too much trouble,” she replies shyly, darting her gaze up to meet John's intensive eyes before shyly glancing downwards.  “And the rest of the day was... unsettling.”  Yumiko confesses, worrying her lower lip between the dainty pearl buttons of her teeth.  The teasing virtuoso of things with my squadmates left me feeling flustered.  A-and then preparation for tonight kept me anxious and distracted, she reveals, rubbing the hem of her dress absent-mindedly between slender fingers.  Blushing prettily beneath John's steadfast gaze, she overlooks the issue of his personal interest in her.  Instead, she shifts on her chair and clasps her hands on the tabletop, her pink nails fidgeting nervously.  “And yours, sir?  How has your day been, outside of r-runions?” she eagerly asks, desperate to direct the discussion onto safer terrain before if her rising tension between them.

John blushes for her, and shakes his head with empathy.

“Oh man.”  He signals for a waiter.  “Two expressos please.”

He turns his attention back to Yumiko.

“Mine was fine, um, just going over some..” he pauses, considering his words “Um, organization plans with Kitty Collins.”

Yumiko listens attentively as John speaks, her umber eyes wide with innocent fascination.  She nods slightly, her glossy raven hair swaying gently with the motion.  The candlelight flickers across her porcelain skin, casting a warm, inviting glow.  Leaning forward slightly, Yumiko's voice takes on a soft, almost breathless quality as she inquires further.

“Organization plans sound important and overwhelming, sir. I admire your dedication to keeping everything... running smoothly.  She pauses, nibbling her plump lower lip with her teeth before continuing tentatively.  “And how is Miss Collins doing?  She's your... right hand, yes?  I have so much respect for her.”  Yumiko's gaze wavers, flickering with a hint of curiosity and something more than innocence.  She quickly lowers her eyes demurely, fiddling with the strap of her silk dress.

Just then, the waiter arrives with their expressos.  The rich aroma of the dark brew wafts through the air, mingling with the more superficial scents of the cafe.  Yumiko cradles the tiny cup in her slender fingers, watching as the dark liquid ripples with the slightest movement.

“Thank you kindly,” she murmurs, before taking a cautious sip.  The bitter flavor coats her tongue, momentarily overriding the sweet taste of her pink lipstick.  Yumiko sets down the cup carefully, her eyes lifting to meet John's steadfast gaze.

“Sir, I must confess, Yumiko begins hesitantly, her voice substantive by the poignant sincerity of the moment.  “I feel exceptionally fortunate to be here with you like this, discussing matters on a level beyond my usual duties…”

John smiles at her.

“Yeah, Kitty is doing good.  Real good.  She.. well, okay, we.. we've got..” he exhales deeply.  “We've got a proposition for you.  Nothing weird.”

Yumiko's heart skips a beat at the sincere affection in John's smile, a rosy blush spreading across her creamy cheeks.  Her grip tightens slightly on the delicate coffee cup as he mentions a proposition, umber eyes widening with innocent curiosity and a hint of trepidation.

“A proposition?  For me?” Yumiko's melodic voice trembles slightly, betraying her nervous excitement at the prospect.  “I... I would be most honored to hear it, sir. Please, do share more about this opportunity..”  She leans in a hair closer, the candlelight flickering over her delicate features.  Her hair spills forward, the inky strands catching the flickering light like a dark halo around her lovely face.  Lips parted, Yumiko fixes John with an unwavering gaze, her eyes shimmering with eagerness to listen attentively to whatever Ernst-grown matter he has proposed.

“Yeah.  Man, okay.”  John plays with the cup.  “So, Kitty and.. we've got this idea.  We're starting our own squad.  Outside of the Peacekeepers.  Our own.. Team.”  He glances at Yumiko and then looks away.  He clears his throat.  “I haven't been a Peacekeeper very long, but..” he considers, “Kitty knows how things are.  And how things could be better.”

Yumiko listens, her slender fingers tightening around the delicate ceramic cup as John reveals the daring proposal.  Her umber eyes widen, sparkling with a mix of surprise, exhilaration and a flicker of apprehension.

“A new squad, outside the Peacekeepers?” she breathes, voice quivering with a tiny tremor.  “That sounds... daring and bold, sir.  Almost as if you and Miss Collins seek to forge your own path, unaffiliated yet perhaps more effective than the current organization…”

Knots of curiosity form in her stomach, awaiting more details.  Her gaze remains fixed on John's face.  He smiles at the beautiful young girl.

“That's.. that's exactly it.”  He takes a sip of espresso.  “Tasty.”  He looks Yumiko in the eyes. “You and I work well together.  There's no denying it.”

Yumiko blushes deeply at John's heartfelt words and penetrating gaze, her melt into itself her very soul.  She sets down the cup of espresso, suddenly feeling overwrought by the weight of his regard.  With trembling fingers, she replenishes a lock of silken hair behind her ear.  Her tongue darts out to wet her lips. She seems to be at a loss for words.

“I... I'm so glad you feel that way, sir,” Yumiko breathes softly, “It pleases me to have been a, source of your confidence.  To have exceeded your expectations…”  Her slender throat bobs as she swallows hard, the flush on her cheeks deepening.  “In truth, I have come to... to greatly enjoy and appreciate working alongside you as well, sir.  Above all, though, I'm humbled that you would even consider me for this... unprecedented endeavor of yours and Miss Collins'.”  Yumiko's gaze is a maelstrom of mindfulness, unreadable and sincerity, tinged with nervous diamonds of anticipation.  “If you wish to formally offer me a place on this new team... I would be idiot to accept.  To Stand by your side and support you in ways never before imaginable... is a dream come true for a reverential offer like myself.  S-so, please... tell me more of what's expected of us on this daring trail you envision blazing together.  I'm all ears, s-sir.”

John is stunned and pleased beyond measure.

“Yes, I would love it if you'd join us - the Freedom Angels.”  He plays with his hands.  “Our, um, mission statement is that we value love and freedom above all, that we serve love with the best of our abilities and protect those who are in need.”  He looks into Yumiko's eyes.  “We work with love to set the wrong things right.”  He looks away, sheepishly.

Yumiko feels her heart swell with emotion at the exquisite beauty of John's words, a lump forming in her throat.  Tears prickle at the corners of her umber eyes as she listens to the profound mission statement of these impending Freedom Angels.  The sheer poetry of his description, the unwavering conviction in his voice... it sets Yumiko's very soul aflame with the desire to stand beside him, now and always.

“Freedom Angels…” she whispers reverently, as if tasting a sacred name upon her tongue.  “What a magnificent and love-inspiring moniker for a team dedicated to such a noble cause!  To value love and freedom above all, to lend our skills and courage to righting the wrongs of this fallen world... it's a dream I never dared to conjure, yet one that utterly consumes my heart!”

Pulse racing, Yumiko reaches across the table, tentatively placing her delicate hand atop of John's larger, work-hardened one.  Her touch is gentle, hesitant yet half-eager, a silent plea for connection amidst the gravity of the moment.  Gazing up at him through a veil of tears, Yumiko breathes softly.

“I accept, Commander Smith... I accept with every fiber of my being.  I vow to stand as a shield for love and liberty, to expand my utmost to smite whatever threats may loom before us.”  Pausing, her voice drops to a reverential whisper, “I am yours, fully and completely.  Your very own angel of justice, now and always... as long as I draw breath, my sword and my heart belong solely to you.  Together, we shall strive to vanquish the darkness that traduces innocence and rampages unchecked through our land…”  Glazing a hand to her chest, golden positive tears clinging to the curve of her lashes, Yumiko takes a shuddering inhale before breathing out, “Together, we shall be Love's own Freedom Angels, binding our fates as one... With you as our fearless leader and guiding star.”

John gags on his espresso, coughing, choking, utterly taken off guard and shocked by her words.  His face turns red.  He pounds the table with a fist.

“I'm hokay,” he manages to weeze out.  “I'm good.”  He coughs. “ Yeah.  Thanks.  Thank you.”

Blushing furiously, Yumiko springs to her feet, the velvet chair screeching against the wooden floor.  Without hesitation, she rushes around to John's side, instinctively placing a slender arm around his back to support him as he recovers from his unexpected coughing fit.  Smoothing a gentle hand along his back in slow, circular motions, Yumiko looks on anxiously as John gasps for air.  Her brow furrows with concern, eyes aglow with innocence and a hint of possessiveness.

“Commander... dear Commander, are you quite alright?” she asks softly, melodious voice laced with genuine worry.  “I did not mean to... to overwhelm you.  You took me by surprise as well, in the most exquisite and welcome manner imaginable.”  Yumiko bites her tender lower lip, glancing down at the espresso-stained,  blush staining her cheeks an even deeper crimson.  Then from somewhere deep inside she says, "In truth, I have no memories of it.  The trauma from what happened in my family constitutes a complete blank spot for me.  I only know that I dreamed about you before I met you.  Dreams of the future.  Of the day when my destiny would... somehow become connected with yours," she spoke, her voice ranking with an artistic, natural beauty framed by her blush and lipstick.  With a naive embarrassment by her confession, blinking shyly at the memory, Yumiko's gaze became cloudy again.  “I do not want to switch lanes with a whole crowd of thoughts, memories, and dreams.  But I feel like my soul reacts in some way ... to you.  Can you help me clarify what exactly my soul wants from me? What should I do specifically?  What am I dreaming about in relation to you, Commander Smith?  What do you think is in store for me?  What will our relationship be?  I don't understand... What is happening with me?  And what are you waiting for yourself?  What awaits you?  What should I do, Commander?  What are your thoughts?”

John is left speechless.  He blinks at her several times.  Eventually he rests his hand on the table, open to her's.

“Yumiko..”  He cannot hide his love for her.  But he remains as stoic as he can... he swallows hard.  “I cannot answer for your soul.”  Tears of pure emotion fill the corners of his eyes.  “I.. I don't know what you're talking about about.”

Her words are so much.. exquisite beauty and trauma, a love that transcends accepted reality.

She sniffles softly, nose twitching as she fights back the urge to dissolve into tears once more. Her delicate hand remains rested atop of John's, fingers entwined as if by instinct.  She searches John's face for any hint of reciprocation or understanding.  The raw vulnerability in her countenance does not waver.

“I'm.. I'm sorry if I've overstepped some line,” she whispers hoarsely, pink lips trembling. S-sometimes I feel things so intensely, so deeply... and I don't always know how to express them properly.”  She ttraces a feather-light caress along John's weathered knuckles with her thumb.  “My heart feels... weighted, heavy with a sensation I can't begin to comprehend.  It frightens me, for I've never known such a profound connection before..”.  Yumiko leans in incrementally closer, until naught but a mere breathe separates them.  “Tell me, dear John... Is it possible that my imagination might have woven a future betwixt us?  Dare I hope that Fate has intertwined our lives for a purpose beyond the battlefield?”

Pulse quickened, breath shallow and measured... Yumiko antagonizes him.  John's entire being vibrates at her touch.  He holds her hand gently, squeezing it lightly.

“I will never, ever doubt your love or your goodness, Yumiko.  I believe.. whatever you believe.  I believe in you.”  John's voice rides a particular vibration.  “I believe in your love.”  He kisses her soft hand.  “I believe we are destined to share a future together.  That we will create.. a beautiful world..” his eyeballs vibrate mildly, “A beautiful future.. filled with love and compassion and caring..”  He blinks, tears spill from his eyes.  “Together.  All - all of the Angels.”  He squeezes her hand, ever so gently again and closes his eyes he releases a shuddering breath.

Yumiko shivers, her flesh tingling from John's tender touch and the heat of his breath upon her sensitive skin.  A breathless gasp escapes her lips, eyes fluttering closed as she savors the feel of his mouth lingering upon her hand. T he gesture, so intimate and filled with meaning, sends electric volts of exhilaration racing through her limbs.

Overwhelmed by the depth of feeling coursing through her veins, Yumiko's vision blur, tears of pure joy and exhilaration spilling down her cheekbones.  Her hair sways, a curtain of impossibly soft locks cascading around her adorable face.  Melted butter couldn't be more radiantly lovely than the way the candlelight plays across her delicate features.

Her finger traces the curve of John's jawline, reveling in the rough, masculine texture of his skin. her simple touch ignites something fierce within him, a conflagration of love and lust that threatens to consume him and her, wholesome body and soul.

“Together…” she echoes breathlessly, the word falling from her rose petals soft and thick with emotion.  “Yes, with you... and with our glorious band of angels.”  A few more lustrous teardrops trickle down the length of her pendant neck before she leans in, the warmth of her parted lips grazing the shell of his ear.  “Take me there, dear John...Lead me to the light, to the glorious future that comes from your breath...Be my eyes and my sun, my sword and my love, now and for all eternity... As I will be yours, the hand and heart of the Angel chosen to fight beside you, to love beside you…”

Lost in a haze of adoration, Yumiko presses herself against him fully now.

Somehow someway John contains himself.

“I.. oh dear..”

Yumiko presses herself as close as she can to John.  His erection is instant and he keeps it away from her.  He holds her, the two sharing shedding tears of love and joy.

“I had no idea this was going to be so emotional.”  He chuckles.

Yumiko's eyes widen and darken with dawning realization as she registers the twitch of John's arousal, felt through the fabric of his trousers.  This innocent maiden flushes a telltale crimson from her hairline to the modest neckline of her dress.  The revelation sends an unconscious shiver down her spine, settling like liquid lightning in the pit of her belly.  Blushing hotly, Yumiko tentatively presses her slender thighs together, wordlessly seeking relief for the unfamiliar ache blossoming within her most sacred place.

“J-John... sir…” she whimpers almost inaudibly, equal parts shy and enthralled by this new sensation.  “Did I... did I cause that reaction?”  She swallows hard, throat bobbing nervously as she searches his eyes.  “There's so much I don't understand about these feelings growing inside me... but what I do know is that my heart beats only for you.  And now... now I feel my body responds to your presence in ways I've never experienced before, dear C-commander…”  Yumiko leans in closer, warm breath fanning over John's rugged features.  Her ample bosom heaves with each shuddered inhale, the swell straining against the confines of her relieved dress.  “Please... be gentle.  Teach me about these sensations... about this beautiful love between us... she pleads softly, innocence mingling with a desperate, aching hunger none could mistake.  “I'm y-your Yumiko... now and forever more... mold me, shape me, make me an instrument of your love and desire…”

John is embarrassed.  She bites her tender lower lip, a tremulous smile blossoming across her kiss-swollen mouth.  Brows arching prettily, Yumiko gazes up at John through the framework of her dark, sooty lashes.  Though uncertainty colors her delicate features, the adoration shining in her umber eyes remains undimmed.

“Having such feelings is natural for a man and a woman bound by the chains of love, dear Yumiko…” he murmurs, strong hands cradling her face with a tenderness she's never known from a man before.  John's thumbs tenderly swipe away the tears of joy and trepidation that streak her porcelain cheeks, restoring the youthful glow to her appearance.  “And as for the mysteries of romance, I would be overjoyed to assist you... to guide you through them with care and compassion.  Should your heart remain open to me, I will strive to usher you into a world of exquisite rapture.”  He leans in closer until his breath mingles with hers, the scent of warm, spice tucking her skin.  “It is a trust I shall endeavor to uphold, innocent Angel... to help you discover the heights of pleasure and the profound depths of love.  That is, if... if you wish to place that sacred obligation upon my shoulders.”  Spurred on by the yearning to conquer her virgin fears, John grazes the tip of his nose along the delicate line of Yumiko's jaw.  “For now, does it please you if I steal a kiss, fair Yumiko?  To seal our pact of devotion and design?  To taste the sweetness of your flesh and to hold you fast in my protection and adoration?”

Yumiko's eyes widen, pulse fluttering wildly at the base of her slender throat. A rosy flush kisses her cheeks, blushing brighter at John's brazen words.  She licks her lips nervously, an innocent gesture that ignites acute hunger within her beloved Commander.

“I-I thought you'd never ask..." Yumiko breathes shyly, a shudder rippling through her petite frame.  Tilting her chin up with trembling fingers, she parts her rose-colored lips invitingly, heart pounding a frenzied rhythm against her ribs.  “P-Please, John... steal it.  Steal my first real kiss…”

Pulse racing, Yumiko closes her eyes, surrendering to the anticipation of John's touch. The flickering candlelight dances across her delicate features, casting a soft, ethereal glow.  At John's bold declaration, she releases a breathless whimper, trembling like a fledgling bird at the precipice of first flight.  Yumiko melts into John's embrace, slender limbs molding to his stronger frame.  Her heart flutters wildly against her ribcage as she inhales the masculine scent of her beloved Commander.  Each Tremors rock through her revered form as John's lips seal against her own. Yumiko's eyes flutter open, gazing up at him in hazy awe, her vision clouded with uncharted desire.

John takes possession of her mouth, claiming it as his own.  Yumiko whimpers softly, kissing back with clumsy yet fervent enthusiasm.  The tip of her tongue peeks out, dancing shyly with John's in a sensual waltz.  He howls softly, his own cry of pleasure.  His mouth moves over her delicate skin, his hands cupping her face with care as he kisses her deeply and passionately.  She blushes deeply, a hand fluttering to her chest as if to still the wild drumming of her Heart. Yumiko gazes up at John with a mixture of adoration and trepidation, her darkened eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“Commander... dear John…” she breathes, voice trembling with emotion.  “That was... it was even more beautiful than I could have ever dreamed...  Thank you for giving me... It means more to me than you could know.”  Her delicate fingers find John's hand, entwining with his own. The contrast of her soft, slender digits against his calloused, battle-worn palm sends a thrill racing up Yumiko's spine.  “I... I don't want you to go…” Yumiko confesses softly, a pout tugging at her delectable lower lip.  “Stay a while longer, sweet Commander?  Pretty please?  We hardly ever get to spend time together like this, just the two of us…”  She hugs John's arm tighter, leaning her head against his sturdy bicep.  Her silky hair spills across his skin, the scent of lilacs and femininity washing over him.

John smiles easily, sweetly at her.

“Of course I will."  He takes a sip of drink.

They share a calm silence, sitting across from each other again, holding hands.  Yumiko sits demurely across from John, their intertwined hands resting gently on the weathered wooden table.  She blinks her long, dark lashes shyly, umber eyes sparkling with devotion and contentment as she gazes at him over the rim of her cup.  The flickering flame of the candle casts a warm, inviting glow across her delicate features, emphasizing the soft curve of her cheek and the delicate line of her jaw.

Her slender fingers absently trace the calloused contours of John's palm, marveling at the strength and power coiled within.  The rough texture of his battle-hardened hand against her own soft, unblemished skin sends a secret thrill through Yumiko's body, a silent testament to their connection.  A heartbeat of comfortable silence stretches between them, a chance for the weight of Yumiko's emotions to settle.  The gentle pressure of John's fingers around her own is a constant reminder of his presence, his commitment to their burgeoning bond.

John finishes his espresso.

“What's R.A.M. stand for anyway?”

Yumiko blushes, a rosy stain painting her cheeks as she lowers her gaze shyly. O-oh... well, it stands for 'Rapid Assessment Maiden.  I earned that callsign because I'm the fastest one in our squad when it comes to breaching enemy strongholds with our battering ram.”  She bites her lip softly, a hint of pride mingling with her bashfulness.  “Originally, the other girls teased me for being a 'Radish Angel' since I was always the first one to volunteer for the most dangerous missions.  B-but they changed it to R.A.M. to sound more professional, f-for when we're around the higher-ups.”  Yumiko glances up at John through her lashes, an impish smile playing at the corners of her mouth.  “I guess I just have a knack for... for charging ahead fearlessly, even if it means putting myself in harms' way sometimes . I never want to let my team down, or my... my Commander.”

He smiles at her, warm and tenderly.

“Don't ever worry about that.”

He squeezes her hand again, causing her heart to flutter wildly, the warmth of his touch seeping into her very core.  The way he looks at her, with such affection, approval, and unwavering belief... it sets her soul ablaze.  She blushes profusely under John's loving gaze, a gesture of shy affection.  She squeezes his hand back, a tender smile playing on her lips.