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chapter twenty five
american noir
this chapter is going to be like 2000 words, bear with me.
The sun was setting behind the mountain landscape as Midori Yamada lay spread out on her stomach on one of the lawn chairs outside her hotel room, legs in the air, satin navy pyjama shirt riding up to show off her lower back, the pattern of birds in flight migrating up her back. Her large, round yellow glasses were perched on her nose, hair in her face as she thumbed through her novel, eerily reminiscent of an American program called 'Castle'. In the novel, a dashing detective named Shintaro was attempting to solve a brutal yakuza murder in Hiroshima, and all trails kept leading back to a hapless crime writer whose writer's block was preventing her from writing her next bestseller. Sparks fly, and the sexual tension is so real you could cut it with a knife.
Murayama Yoshiki had insisted that Midori vacate the hotel room for at least an hour, and she had seen no other option to retreat, post shower and hair still damp, to the small patio, paperback book in hand. It had taken her twenty minutes just to find a comfortable position on the chair, her body still bruised from the Bordertown Battle with the Mighty Warriors.
Movement in the doorway leading back inside made the girl perk her head up, a grin on her face as she dropped the book she was holding.
A shirtless Murayama stood in the doorway, spinning a policeman's patrol hat in his hands before perching it delicately on his head. He grinned when he took in the sight of his lover, lips creeping into a sly smile. "You, young lady, are under arrest for being too damn sexy."
Unable to control her laughter, Midori burst into a fit of giggles, sitting up in the chair. "Where did you get that god-awful hat?"
"What you don't like it?" Murayama chuckled, shrugging his shoulders as he emerged onto the patio. "Stole it from Nakazono the other night. Being halfway to becoming an actual patrol cop, I figured that he'd have an extra somewhere."
Midori closed her eyes with a grin as she remembered the disastrous birthday party that Oyakou had thrown for Murayama's twenty-fifth, a few highlights including ( a disastrously drunk )Nakazono dancing on the beer pong table while singing Rod Stewart's "Do You Think I'm Sexy?" while doing things she didn't care to remember with that god-awful hat. The teenaged full-timers were laughing psychotically and egging him on, while his girlfriend made goo-goo eyes from the fire pit.
"Don't even remind me. I haven't had a chance to bleach my eyes yet." Midori groaned, reaching up to take off her cheap plastic glasses. She'd been meaning to order a new pair, leaning towards trying a cat's eye frame instead, but just hadn't gotten the chance.
Murayama caught her hand halfway to her eyes. "Nope. You look cute when you've got the nerd glasses on."
