With just how silent the Tokugawa mansion was this morning, it was hard to believe that today was so significant; let alone the events that had happened just last night, though they only really included one Mishima and one Tokugawa in the first place.

Ayame's body ached all over. A horrible, sour taste of exhaustion and pain lingered on her tongue as she awoke with sore eyes; gingerly touching the cut on her face with a sharp intake of breath and a curseword uttered from her lips. Standing up with a grunt, she ambled her way to the bathroom, and was soon greeted with a knock at the door.

“Yeah?”

“It's me,” Teru replied, “Oh, and Chinami's with me, too.”

Ayame's eyes widened. Oh, fuck. Of course Chinami would be here when I look a damn mess...!

Resigning herself to the fate of being seen in such capacity, Ayame walked across the soft carpet and opened the door; greeted by the sight of Teru and Chinami, both dressed head-to-toe in black suits.

“You're not even ready yet, Aya? Geez.”

“Well, excuse me if I'm not fuckin' ready on time.”

Teru chuckled. Chinami remained, as ever, stoically silent behind her mask and glasses.

“Sorry, Chinami. She's always a little grouchy in the mornings.”

“...I see.”

“Fuck off, Teru!”

A second chuckle emitted from Teru's lips as the two walked into Ayame's room, with Chinami closing the door gently behind her.

Despite Teru's teasing, Ayame was actually very proficient at getting ready. She was always ready for a speedy getaway from any tumultuous situation. With funeral attire, it thankfully wasn't much different for them than the norm.

“Not wearing the full outfit?” Teru asked.

“No,” Ayame replied bluntly.

“Do you not like jackets, Ayame?”

Both Teru and Ayame still hadn't gotten used to the sound of Chinami's voice blurting out so suddenly into the blue. Ayame, with a considerably gentler tone than she had used with Teru, shook her head.

“No...I find they just get in the way. And I usually forget I have 'em. It's a lose-lose.”

“Hm,” Chinami replied with a shy smile in her voice. “I keep learning new things about you.”

Ayame grinned, before she winced.

“Ow...”

“A-Are you okay...?”

Teru laughed as Chinami and Ayame fussed over each other, and folded her arms.

“Today should be real interesting. Not to mention I'm gonna kick that Mishima's ass when I fucking see her.”

Ayame scoffed. Chinami looked like she was returning herself down from a blush subtly.

“Sure you are.”

“Eh? What makes you think I won't?”

“Yeah, but I know you and women. One look at a pretty girl and it doesn't matter where she's from or what she's done.”

Teru blinked in surprise. Ayame began to fiddle with a tie around her shirt's collar unsuccessfully.

“You serious? Is she that good looking?”

“I think – that you'd...fuck...!”

“Well, I don't know if I'd go that far.”

“No, not that! This tie...!” Ayame grumbled angrily, as the silk slipped between her fingers. Usually, she didn't have any issues; but after being in such an altercation as she was last night, even her fingers felt cut up and bruised. "It's kinda - it's just pissing me off."

“I can do it for you,” Chinami said bluntly.

Teru raised her eyebrows. Ayame blushed.

“Yeah, Aya! Let Chinami help you!”

If looks could kill, Ayame would have murdered her sister. Alas, Teru laughed to herself and lived to wind up her sister another day.

“O...Okay...”

Chinami did not waste any time. Remaining true to form, she allowed no personal feelings to cloud her duty, even if it was something as simple as this; and took a few steps forwards to Ayame until they were in a very intimate position of personal space.

Ayame could, for one of the first times in memory, actually smell the scent that Chinami had on. She definitely wore some kind of perfume; the smell was light and pretty, simultaneously relaxing and comforting her at the same time. Coupled with the feminine tones of perfume, Ayame also found that she was within close proximity to steal full, unabashed gazes at Chinami's eyes, and found the sheer beauty of them was almost hard to look at for too long.

From the look on Chinami's face, she had noticed. Ayame's eyes darted away, but she could still see a blush poking out beneath the mask.

“Um...there. There you go.”

Teru smiled to herself, and could very clearly see that Chinami's form of not allowing her personal feelings to interrupt her duties had completely fallen by the wayside.

Ayame curled her lips inwards a little, though not enough to be obvious about the tension that she was enjoying between them; though that threatened to be completely annihilated when Chinami smoothed out Ayame's tie against her collarbone.

“Th...thanks...!”

“Y...You're welcome...!”

Both Chinami and Ayame remained in their position of closeness; unable to break away from each other, but wanting nothing more than to shake off the awkwardness that came with unconfessed appreciation.

“A -”

Ayame turned her killer gaze once more to the source of the voice, to which Teru had to turn around to stop herself from laughing too much at the sight.

Eventually, however, the three of them were interrupted by a second knock at the door; and no small amount of waiting for permission to come in before opening the door altogether.

“Ayame-chan! Time for...!”

Owner, as fresh as a daisy, waltzed into Ayame's room merrily with her guards in tow back out in the hall. Chinami took two steps quickly backwards from Ayame. Owner looked on with a deeply unimpressed gaze.

“You goin' to a funfair or something?” Ayame asked with irritation. She didn't want her time with Chinami interrupted as it was; let alone by Owner. Though after last night...

I can't entirely hate her, Ayame thought; remembering how Owner, in her own way, had sworn to protect Ayame from harm when it came to Akira Tokugawa.

“What are you doing here?” Owner asked sharply; narrowing her eyes with contempt towards Chinami. “Drivers should be out in their cars.”

Chinami bowed her head.

“I apologize, Owner-san.”

“I requested her help with getting ready,” Ayame replied angrily.

“Why? Did you two fuck last night?”

Taken aback by the brazen mental imagery, both Ayame and Chinami almost fell over.

“I-I shall go to the car...!”

Hurrying out past a sneering Owner, Chinami rushed out with her dignity luckily still in tact. Teru folded her arms as Ayame looked on with a furious gaze.

“C'mon, was that really necessary?” Teru asked. “Besides, you hang out with your driver all the time!”

“I can do as I please,” Owner replied; a new, false smile now firmly onto her lips. “Ayame-chan, however, is my subordinate.”

“In your fucking dreams.” Ayame stated bluntly. “Besides, don't we have a funeral to go to?”

“Oh, your wounds...!” Owner cooed, rushing over to Ayame and gently placing her hands on her shoulders. Ayame didn't bother to tell her that such a sensation hurt. “Are you alright, my love? I'll kill that Mishima bitch if I see her today.”

“Just drop it, would you?” Ayame said in resignation. Owner giggled to herself; satisfied that she'd managed to capture Ayame's attention more thoroughly.

“Oh, alright...” Owner replied as though she'd been asked a question by a child; before clapping her hands at the guards outside. “Let's go.”

Taking Ayame by the hand, Ayame rolled her eyes as Owner led her on ahead; and Teru smirked to herself as she closed the bedroom door behind them.

Considering that today was going to be a major event in Yakuza history, it was no wonder that everyone in the Tokugawa car was just as silent as they had been in the mansion, too.

Chinami had been assigned the honour of designated driver for the important Tokugawa members; a role which now meant that Akira, Ayame, Teru and Owner were all situated in the back of the car, which really should have been enough to rattle not just her, but anybody in her position. Given that she had also narrowly escaped Owner this morning, it was nothing short of a miracle Chinami still had her composure.

Ayame found herself highly impressed that Chinami was also making record time to the funeral in question. Talent was always an attractive quality; mystery, even moreso.

“What’s the ETA?” Akira asked. Her voice was a violation to the already grim silence.

“Ten minutes, Boss.”

“Hm…” Akira replied, slowly, and with an air of pleasantness. “You drive well.”

Owner raised an eyebrow in surprise at sudden praise to someone other than herself. Chinami’s stoic gaze did not waver off of the road.

“...Thank you, Boss.”

Looking out of the window at the weather that surrounded them, despite that the past week had been riddled with July heatwaves, it now seemed Mother Nature had other ideas. Thick, full raindrops fell on the car, with a heavy spattering against the glass of the impact. The clouds above were a unique shade of grey brought by tropical, summer storms, and Ayame thought how she always felt at peace in this kind of weather…though that peace was never usually held for too long.

There was a soft undertone of smooth, light-feeling jazz music, playing at a sombre, slow tempo; a needed remedy for a car full of gangsters in obligated mourning. Lost in thought, Ayame found her index finger tapping idly against her knee as she sat, and she could tell that the sound of the melodies were doing well to keep Teru’s mind at ease, too.

There were two rows of leather seats in the back. The imposing demeanour of Akira was sat beside the sly, slender figure of Owner, whilst Ayame and Teru sat neatly tucked away in the back; which, of course, was slightly more cramped than the row before them.

“…This is already pretty grim feeling, isn’t it?” Teru mumbled in the silence of the car. Ayame continued to look out of the window at the falling rain.

“It’s a funeral for two of the most powerful women in our history,” Owner retorted with a scoff. “Both of whom were murdered. What did you expect? Candy and flowers?”

“Sorry, was I talking to you? I don't remember talking to you,” Teru continued. “And I meant it feels like something big is going to happen. Wouldn’t you agree, Xiuying?”

“Teru.”

Owner's eyes lit up in rage, and Akira quickly reminded Teru of her place. Unfazed, Teru chuckled.

“Oh, excuse me. Owner.”

Ayame smirked along with her sister, and Owner clicked her tongue as she turned back to face the front.

Akira let out a sigh as she brought the electric window down ever so slightly, and sparked up a cigar.

“For once,” she began, “I agree with you, Teru.”

Teru raised her eyebrows in surprise. Ayame remained silent, with her chin firmly glued to her hand as she continued to look outside at the city’s colours drenched in the summer storm.

“Uh...you do?”

“Yes…” Akira trailed off, and inhaled a large breath of smoke. “I can feel it in my bones.”

“You think it’ll be an assassination or something, Boss?” Owner chipped in. Akira shook her head.

“No…I think there’s been enough death already.” Akira replied, exhaling. “Someone will make a big splash.”

Teru and Ayame looked at each other. Even Owner, too, felt as though she shared the same thought.

Mirai Mishima - though nobody said the name out loud.

“…Five minutes until arrival,” Chinami announced over the soft tones of the piano, and all women in the car began to pull on their suit jackets.

“Good work, Saizuki.”

Chinami nodded politely at Akira’s praise, before slowly driving the car around a corner of what seemed to be a high-wealth neighbourhood.

Ayame felt a bitter taste in her mouth to accompany the pain she felt aching across her body. The one comfort of looking battered and bruised was that she'd look like even more of a hardass than she was known for being, and at a Yakuza funeral with all of the families there, Hazuki had arguably done her a favour.

But the bad taste didn't come from the pain; and instead, came from seeing all of the houses decorated in such a way with vanity items and cosmetics. Large gates; ornamental, large vases full of expensive plants; statues made of sterling silver or solid gold; ugh. It all just really pissed her off. It reminded her of all of the unpleasantness of home.

Chinami pulled the car up to the side of the road, where it looked as though some people had started to gather beside the front entrance of the memorial hall. Various women were dotted around in either kimonos or suits, and all were beneath large, sprawling black umbrellas. Some were dabbing their eyes quietly with handkerchiefs, whilst others were having a cigarette or a conversation, though both looked equally as sombre as the other.

“Are people really that cut up about this…?” Teru asked, and Ayame sighed. “Geez. I barely knew the woman.”

“Teru…don’t let anyone else hear you say that outside of this car.”

“I mean, I know why, it’s just…I’m surprised. Who knew they cared so much?”

Akira remained silent, much to the twins' surprise; and allowed Chinami to open the car door for her. Owner quickly shuffled out without a word of thanks to Chinami whatsoever, and made her way over next to Akira beneath her umbrella. The raindrops fell on the material surface with a satisfying noise.

“Well of course the Mishimas are gonna be devastated...” Ayame continued, as herself and Teru began to step out of the car themselves and onto the cold concrete of the pavement. “That was their boss. Though, Hazuki didn't seem that cut up about it to me.”

“Not surprising. Hey, don’t the Mishima girls all wear those white suits of theirs because of her?” Teru chuckled, as the two of them began to get out of the car themselves. “Damn, it’s pouring out here.”

Chinami handed Ayame and Teru a different umbrella each, before taking one for herself.

“Thanks…” Ayame said, and Chinami nodded. “This'll be interesting to hold today when I can't even do my own tie.”

“...Sorry. About not being able to hold it for you.”

Both Ayame and Chinami knew exactly what she meant by that. If Owner this morning was anything to go by, seeing the two of them holding an umbrella would almost certainly give her a spasm of rage. Though, whether Owner realized it or not, she had inadvertently done them a favour – they now had the added excitement of keeping under wraps a mutual attraction bubbling underneath the surface, which always served to heighten just how good it felt when it came to fruition.

“Maybe some other time,” Ayame joked. Teru smiled at Chinami, who smiled in turn back.

“Yes…maybe.”

Damn, Ayame thought to herself, and turned away quickly to avoid looking for too long. I wanna kiss her so bad.

Turning to walk away with Akira and Owner, Chinami began to escort the two of them up towards the building ahead. Ayame sighed quietly, and Teru placed a hand on her shoulder as they stood beneath the newly unfolded umbrella.

“Let’s get this over with.”

“Ugh…" Ayame began, as she began to make her way over towards the funeral parlour, "this is gonna suck.”