inui

person: stop trying to make sports anime and manga gay!!!1!

me:  

ah yes

how silly of me

how could I ever think it was gay

when it is so obviously not haha

clearly not gay  

not even a little bit

NOT HOMOSEXUAL

AT

 ALL

Home

Author’s Note: For some reason I was thinking about Soryu, and this happened.  (Things happen when I let my brain go wandering around lol)


It had been a long flight back to Dubai from Japan. He wished he could have taken her with him - he was certain Eisuke would have had no issue arranging for her to take time off her maid work, but he was still reluctant to involve her heavily in the politics of the Ice Dragons, so he had left her behind on this trip.

Rubbing at his eyes with thumb and forefinger, he stood out the front of the airport, the scent of exhaust fumes tickling his nose as cars idled nearby, waiting for their passengers.

“Boss!” came the energetic voice he had been awaiting, and Inui appeared before him, huffing slightly. “We’re parked over this way, Boss! Welcome home!”

The look of joy on Inui’s face was much like a puppy. It had been said before, but Soryu couldn’t help but acknowledge it again now that it was right in front of him. With a nod, he flicked his jacket over his shoulder and followed Inui to the car with tinted windows, seating himself in the back and giving a nod to Samejima, who was at the wheel.

“Boss.” Samejima said, a slight smile on his lips. Clearly he had been missed.

They talked shop briefly, but both Inui and Samejima could tell their boss’s mind was elsewhere, so the car eventually fell silent - and he was left to his thoughts of her smile, the way she carried herself, the fastidious manner in which she did her job. He had missed her terribly.

It was nearing midnight when he finally arrived home, and Inui and Samejima took off in the car after dropping him off, stating that they were ‘giving Boss and Princess time alone!’

They could be surprisingly considerate sometimes, he admitted.

He could see lights on inside as he shuffled in through the front door, slipping his feet out of his shoes and into his comfortable house slippers. The scuffing of little feet told him she was on her way to him.

“Soryu!”

There she was, her tiny frame launching toward him and her arms squeezing him as tightly as she could. He returned her embrace, letting his fingers comb through the ends of her hair.

“I’m home…” he murmured, and they shared a gentle kiss, their lips lingering afterward, as if to say they missed one another.

“Welcome home!” she chirped, looking altogether bright eyed despite the lateness of the hour. “I made you food, please come and eat…”

Soryu’s nose already knew what to expect, he had smelled it the moment he entered the house. He had a weakness for her omelettes, and she knew it - he could almost taste the fluffy eggs as he followed her into the dining room, and he couldn’t help but smile at seeing everything set up on the table…along with two extra place settings.

“Inui and Samejima won’t be joining us tonight,” he told her, and she looked half-relieved, half upset. “I’m sure I can eat their share, though.”

That brightened her expression, and she quickly re-plated the food. It was, as always…perfection. He could eat her omelettes forever, especially when she looked so happy to see him enjoy her cooking.

After dinner, they curled up together on the couch to watch a detective movie she had rented just for him. Soryu found himself getting dragged into the plot, and - clenching his fists during the action scene - he gazed at her to see if she was doing the same…but saw she had closed her eyes and drifted to sleep. A wry smile appeared on his lips.

He wasn’t surprised, if he was being honest. Just looking around the room he could tell she had been cleaning furiously in preperation for his arrival and waiting up for him. And she likely hadn’t slept the night before due to excitement, or worry.  That was simply the kind of woman she was, and he loved her for it.

Her head on his shoulder was a comfortable, soothing weight. Shifting slowly to be able to hold her properly and rest his cheek against the top of her head, he inhaled the gentle fragrance of her shampoo, the movie forgotten.

In her warmth, surrounded by her little gestures of love. Love he hadn’t known until he met her.

This was home.




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