1.1 | The Yakuza Bride

Chapter 8

A/N: Here's a cookie for all my re-readers!

And to those who are new to MAFIYA, welcome and I hope you enjoy this chapter :)

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Leon was holed in his study with the door shut, hoping that she wouldn't find the need to look for him there. He had woken before her as usual, took a shower, made himself toast and coffee for breakfast, dressed for work, pretended to leave from the door, then quietly nipped back into his study.

She didn't make much of a noise, so it was difficult to tell what she was doing, but he was counting on the beep of the front door to signal her exit.

The slam of a kitchen drawer caused him to nearly jump from his chair. It was followed by a muffled yelp. A frown crossed his brow as he considered if she needed help. No, he couldn't just suddenly appear from his study now. It would be too suspicious.

For one horrifying moment, he wondered if she would notice his shoes. He had neglected to hide them, and as he considered this flaw in his plan with his head in one hand, he heard her speaking on the phone in Japanese. More silence followed. When he heard the shut of the shoe cabinet and the beep of the front door, he knew she had left.

Leon waited for ten minutes on his watch to pass just to be sure. Then he rapidly rose to his feet. His joints popped in protest at the sudden movement and his knees wobbled from having sat for too long. He inched to his door and cracked it open, then peeked out into the living room.

More confident that she had already left, he strode out of the study and into their bedroom.

Hana had made the bed and arranged their pillows. The 'barrier pillow' had also been returned to its place, though he knew she would take it out again tonight.

But really, when was their extra bed coming?

The first thing he did was to change out of his formal shirt and pants, and into the shirt and joggers that he had tossed haphazardly on the edge of the bed earlier.

She had folded those for him, and a part of him wished she could be easy to dislike. Which person just picked up the clothes of someone they didn't even like and helped them to fold it?

Now that he was in a more comfortable attire, he moved to her vanity.

As he ran his fingers over the smooth wood, he appraised the assortment of items that had been neatly sorted into clear, plastic containers. A hairbrush, a bottle of toner, moisturiser, and other items belonging to her cleansing routine were some of the things he made out. He picked up a plastic bottle labelled Peach Blossom, then removed the cap and gave it a sniff. Then he turned his head away to erupt into a sneeze.

Leon gingerly returned the bottle to its place as he sniffled. So that was the cologne that made her smell of peaches. His hand moved to open a drawer. A circular container of cotton buds and a packet of something else was all it contained. 'Night Use' was the label on its plastic packaging. He slammed the drawer shut, his face heating up.

He tugged open the second drawer, then picked up the wooden lacquer box with interest. Leon undid the simple metal clasp, and lifted its lid to find jewellery in its cushioned compartments, together with polaroids and a pressed flower. He looked through each polaroid, but the faces in them were indistinguishable.

Below the lacquer box was a black velvet case. He took that out too, knowing what it contained. The pearl ear rings and necklace she wore on their wedding day glinted softly within. That was the first and last time she had worn them.

Then below the case was a black moleskin notebook. He retrieved that with renewed interest. He slipped the elastic off its cover and flipped it open. Japanese characters jumped out at him as he thumbed through the pages.