The Taisho fire

The Capt'n

He was tall.

Insanely tall. Especially for a man with his ancestry – Japan. It bordered on obscene when, sometimes, she had to crane her neck to look him in the eye. But again, maybe if he loosened the habit of stepping into her personal space so casually, her little neck would eventually relax.

The Firefighters station was his, and he flittered about the common room as if he owned the place, oblivious to the rest of them. The Captain didn't quite care if she was in the way when he reached for a mug, he'd just stretch behind her back and grab one in a swift move, leaving her heart fluttering in her chest. Because hell, who could possibly ignore the specimen when he closed in upon you?

He never really touched her, per se, but the very air seemed to shift when his body came close ... but he never breeched that invisible barrier.

Touch.

Broad shoulders, not an inch of fat under his muscles safely hidden away under the standard uniform. The kind of physique you'd expect for a gym room addict ... except that he wasn't. Sure, the Captain never skipped mandatory training, directing the exercises himself. Especially self-defence. There was nothing asked of them that he wouldn't do first. Lead by example ... the very Japanese way.

His mixed ancestry might have been responsible for his tea loving tastes. Not that many in the crew knew of it, of course. He was a living cliché, with his toned physique and rumbling voice. Who could possibly guess that he only drank coffee to keep awake after long days at the station? That he didn't relish in the bitter taste?

Any woman would have offered him an espresso, dark and strong without an ounce of sugar to complement his strong masculinity. How wrong they would be! Given the grimace she sometimes caught on his face ... he probably hated it.

Gwen, herself, had only discovered the deed after a few months of finding her teapot empty. At first, the young woman thought herself crazy – she had probably drunk the last drop of her sencha tea herself. Then, she accused Jolyne, their inmate and cleaning tornado. She'd denied vehemently coming within a ten foot radius of the hello kitty teapot. After a while, Gwen just accepted that some of her colleagues enjoyed her brew, and gave up altogether when none had admitted to drinking whatever remained of her green tea in the common room.

Then, one day, she'd caught the Captain with his nose buried in his cup, her teapot resting not an inch from his hand. The sight of his relaxed features had caused her heart to stutter – despite his casual manners, he always looked aware. But when his eyes opened, and he caught her staring at him, a sheepish smile twisted his lips. The fleeting expression was soon replaced by his usual, confident smirk as he left.

"Thanks for the tea."

Frozen in place, she'd just stood there, wondering how this man could effortlessly reduce her to a puddle. But then again, he looked like an incarnation of a minor god. And he was her boss. Her yummy, untouchable, incredible, unattainable boss. Her larger than life boss, admired by all – men and women alike – and completely out of reach just because he was ... him.

The Captain had a spine of steel, hidden under a roguish charm that caused him to break hearts. His chiselled jaw could clench in anger, or relax in a smile that would level anyone's protective walls. His eyes shone an unnatural shade of gold when the morning light graced the windows of the common room – not that she was staring.

Yes, he was disarming.

His physical prowess fuelled the rumours. He always kept it discreet, but it wasn't difficult to see that he could bench press more than any of his men, even the bulkiest ones. That he could leap higher, run faster, or climb as if his feet were flying rather than touching the ground.

The long strands of silver-white hair always attached in a high ponytail had a life of their own. People whispered he'd lived through a terrible trauma when he still worked for the military, hence the reason he'd quit. Others, when drunk enough, spun stories about his mother being a spirit of some kind, bestowing upon her son hair spun of moonlight.

Until today, Gwen had no opinion on the matter whatsoever. Her only consideration was to wonder if his hair felt as silky as it looked. Given that he was off limits, and knew, exactly, how to remind any female that looked at him that way with barely a warning look, she surmised she would never know.

But after last night's fiasco ... shock was giving way to a suspicious amount of open-minded curiosity. Who was he? Or rather, WHAT was he, exactly? The spirit ancestry held some appeal; it would explain his physical prowess, and the otherworldly aura all the same. And so, without any of her colleagues knowing, Gwen switched side to join the 'my Captain is surnatural' group.

None would ever know, because she swore to keep silent. Out of respect for the Captain that kept their unit together, she would never disclose what she'd just witnessed. Her knee throbbed, a stark reminder of last night's scuffle. Gwen winced slightly, rubbing the joint to keep the pain manageable. Damn drunks!

The meeting was adjourned, and her eyes met those of the Captain over her cup of sencha tea. Golden orbs interrogated her, dark brows neutral below the silver bangs. There was nary a line upon his temple, the slightest hint of crow's feet that indicated he might have passed the thirty age mark. A laugh line, for all the joy he brought to the team. Another between his eyebrows, for the many times he frowned; always worrying to keep them safe.

She responded his silent enquiry with a stare of her own, meeting his gaze head on, open to his scrutiny.

I'll protect you, like you protect us.

Gwen wasn't afraid to trust him; would he return the favour? His eyebrow shot up, and the hint of a smile quirked the corner of his lips as he found his answer.

The Captain gave her the slightest of nods; she returned it in kind. But when his eyes left hers, gazing through the window instead, she couldn't help but stare.

He looked ... lonely.

So. ValinorsTwilight inspired me with her time travel fiction - which is real nice by the way. So I'm putting together this short story because Tōga doesn't have enough loving. And I hated that he had to die in inuYasha original storyline.

This is going to be a short story, I think... knowing me, perhaps 30k words hehe.