Inception

Chapter 22: No Touchy

Soshiro was picking at his hairline again.

It wasn't news that Lena was pretty. She had white, clear skin, thick silver hair, sky blue eyes, a ripe mouth whose rare smiles made hearts skip a beat, and she was the perfect size to wrap up in one's arms. Not to mention underneath her frumpy work clothes and baggy lab coats she had a perfect hourglass figure with a grabble rump and breasts big enough to fill the palm of one's hand. No, the problem with Lena was finding anything wrong with how she looked. It was only through virtue of being a workaholic who hid away in the lab that his Lena hadn't been discovered by the horny foaming masses which were soldiers.

But he couldn't very well claw out the eyes of every male in the Defense Force. Nor could he make a show of wanting to.

Ugh, the whole ordeal gave him heartburn.

Thus, when the little Ichikawa came onto the picture and threw a fork at the idiot who tried to ask Lena out, Soshiro almost kissed him. Perhaps a little brother was just the cohort he needed to clear the burning in his esophagus. He made a vow then and there that if Leno decided to take someone out for hitting on his sister, Soshiro would do his part to sweep it under the rug. No insurrection here, boss, no sirree.

That is, until the conversation in the gym during a post-dinner cool down. It wasn't anything on schedule. Soshiro had his usual forms to practice and some of the more ambitious soldiers were squeezing in a last minute work out before heading to the baths.

And since this year's new batch happened to have ambition in spades, nearly the entire platoon of newbies were in there with him, chatting in-between reps.

"Yo, Ichikawa, what you have against me dating your sister?" asked the green-haired Haruchi.

Those around them tried to make a show of being focused on their individual routines, but Soshiro didn't miss the little tall tale signs of them listening in. A moment of slowing down here. A minute turn of the head there. A flicker of eyes.

Leno Ichikawa finished his bench presses, spotted by a worn Kafka Hibino, before answering.

"You're a soldier."

Soshiro wasn't the only one who paused. The pink-haired Furuhashi stopped entirely and Aoi Kaguragi did a rotation on the pedal bike just a mite slower than the last.

"What the hell, dude. Prejudiced much?" asked Furuhashi.

"Dudes just doing his job as a good little brother," said Hibino with a toothy grin and a rough fondle of his younger friend's hair.

Ichikawa pushed his hand off, his usually flat expression marred by narrowed eyes.

"No. Getting attached to a soldier who fights kaiju is one of Lena's nightmares."

Soshiro's heated body went cool.

"What? She been abused by one or something?" asked Furuhashi.

"None of your business," quipped Leno as he switched places with Hibino to take his turn spotting.

"If she's so afraid of soldiers, shouldn't you trust her to turn me down herself?" Haruchi rubbed his brow, as though to wipe away the memory of sauce. "Stained one of my shirts, man."

"Lena's...she gets attached too easily. She knows this herself which is why she doesn't like socializing. Which is why if I hear about any of you so much as looking at her funny, I'm punching your lights out."

Hibino gave puff of a whistle from beneath the dumbbell. "Way to be a—uurrrrgh—man. Didn't think you had it in you."

"Don't talk while lifting, sir."

"Harsh," said Haruchi before setting his hands back to the weights. "Guess I'll just not ask your permission, then."

"I mean it, Haruchi."

"I'd like to see you punch my lights out, kid. You know how many black belts I have?"

"Not a flex, bro," said Furuhashi.

Soshiro said nothing, trying to urge the cold back out of his hands for another rotation through the Hoshina sword forms. They'd gone clammy, making the practice blades feel slippery. After a moment, he gave up and decided to move to kendo katas for a cool down.

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I hate carpet. All it does is hold on to crap and smells and moisture. Rugs you can at least take outside and hose off or beat the crap out of them. Carpet's just...there, and lines with sharp little nails so if, for some reason, a corner comes up or a transition from one piece to another isn't just right, you got a nice little tetnus trap. Seriously, who came up with this? Probably the guy who invented vacuums.