Bloodied Dahlias | Miya Osamu

[I] In Search for Salvation

"It's not here?"

Aran's brows knitted together into a deep frown, his eyes focused on the tablet in his hands as his finger swiped down the contents of the meeting agenda his secretary had sent him just minutes before. He leaned against the black podium at the front of the room, checking his wrist to confirm the time on his watch.

Ten minutes remaining.

The meeting agenda had called for a presentation to brief the slew of agents sitting lined up along the edges of the long mahogany table on the next steps in the Salvation operation, yet he had received no attachment of a slideshow to present, nor did he receive advance notice to prepare his own presentation.

How in the world was he going to pull this off...

"Aran," a familiar voice called from the doorway. The man looked up, his pupils constricting first in surprise and shock, and then dilated in friendly recognition as a man with styled platinum blond hair strolled in, his hands shoved into the pockets of his dress pants, the sleeves of his black dress shirt rolled up just past his elbows.

"I didn't expect to see you here again so soon," Aran said, greeting the visitor with a wide smile. He walked away from the podium by the wall to meet the visitor mid-way by the glass window separating the room from the hallway. "Thought you had a new job, Atsumu."

Atsumu looked over at the clock across the room, raising his index up to point in its direction. "Lunch break over at CIPHER, so I thought I'd hop by," he explained, his fingers curling into a tight fist as he raised his hand up to the man for a fist bump. Aran laughed, mimicking the blond's actions before punching forward to meet Atsumu's fist with his own.

"You hopped over from Tokyo to Kobe during your lunch break?" Aran challenged, his tone unconvinced as he poured himself a mug of coffee from the side table.

"Day-long lunch break," he offered, flashing a peace sign at the man. Aran shot his childhood friend a questioning glance, which in turn elicited an amused chuckle out of the blond. "Alright, alright," he conceded, placing his laptop down onto the table as he raised his hands up in surrender. "Ya caught me. Kita-san asked me ta give the briefin' today since I was directly involved with the CIPHER fiasco."

"How's she doing, by the way? I heard your boss ended up getting kidnapped during that operation."

Atsumu pulled off the cap of his USB, his fingers tracing the outlets on the side as he connected the flash drive to the podium computer before turning over to look at his friend.

"Ma girlfriend's doin' fine. Too good, almost. She was walkin' round with a crutch a while back and lemme tell ya, crutches are weapons. I'm thinkin' of pitchin' the idea of 'em as official weapons ta Kita-san," the blond rambled on shuddering at the memory of having been poked in the head by the metal support just the day before.

"I think that's really just a you problem, buddy," Aran chuckled, sliding over a black mug with steaming hot coffee in Atsumu's direction. "Your personality's just the worst," he suggested, adding emphasis into the last word of his sentence.

"My personality is top quality, I'd have you know," Atsumu scoffed in mock offense, his eyes glued to the screen as he looked through the folders of his thumb drive for the powerpoint presentation he had prepared the night before.

"Sure it is," Aran said, unconvinced. He gave a friendly pat on the back to his friend and headed over to the door, dimming the lights of the room before flicking up the switch to bring the projector to life. "This is a professional presentation, so talk nicely," he yelled over to Atsumu from the other side of the room with a wide smile on his face. The blond looked up and rolled his eyes in response, and with a bellowing laugh and a wave of his hand, Aran disappeared out the door and into the hallways of the labyrinth of the building floor.