Jet Set
folder
+S to Z › Tokyo Mew Mew
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
3,600
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+S to Z › Tokyo Mew Mew
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
3,600
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Tokyo Mew Mew, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Arrival
Jet Set
Chapter Two . Plotting
- Sanity through Madness
Thanks must go out to the following reviewers...
Holly Blue - Thanks. Doesn't really tell me what you like about it, though. ...and who/what, praytell, is this amorphous blob of which you speak?
P.C. - So I'm actually not alone in my preference? Yay! ^_^
Dayanara - That's exactly why I'm doing this.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"...You look quite lovely, Zakuro-san. Then again, there was never any doubt." Keiichiro said, offering a grandoisé bow, and offering her one of his hands, to help her from the taxi, that had stopped outside the gates of Tokyo Café Mew. After assisting her from the car, he gave a short wave to the driver, who continued on his nightly routes, though one could fairly see him still staring at Zakuro.
And he would hardly be the only one to. Zakuro was, to put it simply, stunning. It was quite obvious that she was a model; long legs, slender torso, gentle curves, and a flawless complexion. But when the time called for her to dress to the nines... The result was beyond compare. The dress - the dusky rose, almost of sunset - was of thin straps at the shoulders, an opening in the back that tapered down to a waist that seemed impossibly small, and a slit that easily rode halfway up a smooth, shapely thigh. A pair of sandals - akin to the Grecian style, with a two inch heel - went part of the way up a pair of slender calves - the dark lavender of the twilight. On her left wrist, there was a small, rather plain silver bracelet, small chips of diamond embedded into the metal. Her hair had been elegantly coiffed, the vast majority of her midback-length raven-violet hair tied back, a few strands electing to fall closer to the front, and thereby outside the constraints of the coiffure.
...there was definitely a very good reason why she was one of Japan's most in-demand models, and had already garnered quite a following in the United States, England, France, Italy... The list could go on and on.
Keiichiro offered her his arm, in a rather gallant display of chivalry, and she took it graciously, and the two of them went past the gate, up the stairs, and into the closed café. "I'll just go fetch R2005." He said. "Would you mind telling Ryou to hurry along?" And with little fanfare, went striding off to the control room, to the corridor kept far from the customers.
Zakuro followed, for a moment, before going up the small stairwell, and, after a moment's thought, recalled which door belonged to the manager ( how was she to know? she rarely had to call on anyone. ), before her knuckles rapped softly on the door casing.
"Come in." A flippant response.
Zakuro opened the door, and as she looked in, she found reason to pause. A most...intriguing reason, to pause, indeed.
In the final fading tinges of twilight, accompanied by the warm, dim glow from the lamp alongside his bed, shadows easily played, in the confines of the small, plain room. As he turned around, to face the doorway, the darkness darted beneath the still-damp fringe of blonde bangs. Etched shadows, with a lover's caress, along the defined planes of his abdomen, making light of the unbuttoned, still loose shirt. "...eh. Zakuro-san. Didn't think it was going to be you." Ryou said, after a long, drawn-out moment, in which many looks had beem exchanged.
Zakuro offered a slight shrug of her shoulders - whatever. "You're running late. Keiichiro-san said to put a move on."
"Yeah, he would. Tell me, have you seen R2005 yet?" He asked, straightening, and his arms folding over his chest, quite unmindful of the still-open shirt.
"Not yet. Keiichiro-san went to go get it."
He nodded, before a slight smirk crossed over his face. "Are you going to give it a cutesy name, like Ichigo did with R2000?"
"...so what if I do?"
Was that just a challenge?
Regardless of what it was, Ryou laughed. "So what, indeed. Tell Keiichiro I'll be down in a minute. Besides, people never show up on time for these occasions. You should know that."
"Fine."
Conversations were usually long and drawn out. But when the pair has little to say to each other - perhaps by common unspoken consent - the conversations would be kept short, sweet, and to the point. At least between Ryou and Zakuro.
Neither of them quite knew what to say to one who could, in public circles, easily be regarded as an equal. Depending on the paticular society grouping, one might even be found superior.
Zakuro was one of Japan's most reknown models, doing shoots in every country, and having been on almost every continent. She was a stunning dark-haired beauty, almost of Japan's canon, were it not for the height that made her desirable in the eyes of fashion designers everywhere. She could speak fluently in five languages, and manage conversationally in several others. She'd been taking dance lessons - modern and traditional - since she was a child, and still continued with the training, for she found that she was rather fond of the gracious motions.
Ryou was an heir to a fortune that the vast majority couldn't even begin to imagine. He was a suave buisnessman, since after assuming the affairs of his parents and assuming the role, he had been nothing less than a rousing success. He was also extremely perceptive when it came to the stock market. And he had certainly made a splash in the tabloids; blonde, blue eyes, very photogenic, and apparently full of secrets - he was a writer's dream come true.
...someone's camera was liable to burst it's lens, by the end of the night.
* * * * *
Flashbulbs had been going off in front of the Hikari NMC function building for almost an hour. It seemed as though there was no end to the onslaught of famous faces.
But the rush seemed to be over, and those members of the press who had not recieved an invitation had been milling around outside the building, talking amongst themselves, trading information, and laying bets at to who would be among the last to arrive, guest-wise.
From reaction, all their cameras raised as one, as another limousine pulled up, and the door opened enough for the flashbulbs to start shooting glaring light into the light blue eyes of the young entrepeneur, Shirogane Ryou, as he got out of the vehicle.
"Ah! Shirogane-san! Did you recieve an invitation?"
"Are you a sponsor?"
"Have you donated any money to the Hikari funds?"
"Who's you date?"
Ryou only offered a slight smirk, of which several pictures were captured, before he turned around, and with what seemed to be a gallant gesture, offered his arm to his date.
All the photographers leaned forward...
And were rather shocked to see Fujiwara Zakuro emerge from the limousine, on Ryou's arm. As she straightened, she offered a publicity-friendly smile to the photographers.
"Are you two dating?"
"Fujiwara-san! Are you thinking about switching agencies?"
"Please, let us get a good picture!"
"...you've just thrown me to the human wolves, you know." Zakuro muttered quietly, casting a quick glance towards Ryou.
"Better you than me. Better you than me."
"Please, pose!"
Zakuro manuvered herself next to Ryou, standing alongside him. "...at least give them a photo that their editors will die over."
He laughed, and slid an arm around her narrow waist, letting the hand fall to rest on one of her shapely hips, and pulling her closer.
Obligingly, she rested one of her hands on his chest, and leaned her forehead against his shoulder, her dark eyes turned towards the camera, with a faintly secretive half-smile on her face. Tabloids seemed to enjoy getting that look, from anyone.
...but she hadn't anticipated the fact that he would be so...perfect.
Flashbulbs popped for another few seconds, before their attention shifted, to the next oncoming limousine, and assuming the position, cameras poised for action.
"Free at last... Shall we?" Ryou said, releasing his slight hold on her hip - when had it started to feel good? - and offering his arm to her.
"We've got a long night ahead of us. May as well make some fun out of it."
"You know, you're completely ruining the image I have of you."
"...you've just never bothered to find out, Ryou."
They fell into a silence, before they continued on their way in...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I'm actually liking how this story is developing. So, it's a really safe bet to guess that a new chapter will appear, sometime in the near future... ^_^
Chapter Two . Plotting
- Sanity through Madness
Thanks must go out to the following reviewers...
Holly Blue - Thanks. Doesn't really tell me what you like about it, though. ...and who/what, praytell, is this amorphous blob of which you speak?
P.C. - So I'm actually not alone in my preference? Yay! ^_^
Dayanara - That's exactly why I'm doing this.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"...You look quite lovely, Zakuro-san. Then again, there was never any doubt." Keiichiro said, offering a grandoisé bow, and offering her one of his hands, to help her from the taxi, that had stopped outside the gates of Tokyo Café Mew. After assisting her from the car, he gave a short wave to the driver, who continued on his nightly routes, though one could fairly see him still staring at Zakuro.
And he would hardly be the only one to. Zakuro was, to put it simply, stunning. It was quite obvious that she was a model; long legs, slender torso, gentle curves, and a flawless complexion. But when the time called for her to dress to the nines... The result was beyond compare. The dress - the dusky rose, almost of sunset - was of thin straps at the shoulders, an opening in the back that tapered down to a waist that seemed impossibly small, and a slit that easily rode halfway up a smooth, shapely thigh. A pair of sandals - akin to the Grecian style, with a two inch heel - went part of the way up a pair of slender calves - the dark lavender of the twilight. On her left wrist, there was a small, rather plain silver bracelet, small chips of diamond embedded into the metal. Her hair had been elegantly coiffed, the vast majority of her midback-length raven-violet hair tied back, a few strands electing to fall closer to the front, and thereby outside the constraints of the coiffure.
...there was definitely a very good reason why she was one of Japan's most in-demand models, and had already garnered quite a following in the United States, England, France, Italy... The list could go on and on.
Keiichiro offered her his arm, in a rather gallant display of chivalry, and she took it graciously, and the two of them went past the gate, up the stairs, and into the closed café. "I'll just go fetch R2005." He said. "Would you mind telling Ryou to hurry along?" And with little fanfare, went striding off to the control room, to the corridor kept far from the customers.
Zakuro followed, for a moment, before going up the small stairwell, and, after a moment's thought, recalled which door belonged to the manager ( how was she to know? she rarely had to call on anyone. ), before her knuckles rapped softly on the door casing.
"Come in." A flippant response.
Zakuro opened the door, and as she looked in, she found reason to pause. A most...intriguing reason, to pause, indeed.
In the final fading tinges of twilight, accompanied by the warm, dim glow from the lamp alongside his bed, shadows easily played, in the confines of the small, plain room. As he turned around, to face the doorway, the darkness darted beneath the still-damp fringe of blonde bangs. Etched shadows, with a lover's caress, along the defined planes of his abdomen, making light of the unbuttoned, still loose shirt. "...eh. Zakuro-san. Didn't think it was going to be you." Ryou said, after a long, drawn-out moment, in which many looks had beem exchanged.
Zakuro offered a slight shrug of her shoulders - whatever. "You're running late. Keiichiro-san said to put a move on."
"Yeah, he would. Tell me, have you seen R2005 yet?" He asked, straightening, and his arms folding over his chest, quite unmindful of the still-open shirt.
"Not yet. Keiichiro-san went to go get it."
He nodded, before a slight smirk crossed over his face. "Are you going to give it a cutesy name, like Ichigo did with R2000?"
"...so what if I do?"
Was that just a challenge?
Regardless of what it was, Ryou laughed. "So what, indeed. Tell Keiichiro I'll be down in a minute. Besides, people never show up on time for these occasions. You should know that."
"Fine."
Conversations were usually long and drawn out. But when the pair has little to say to each other - perhaps by common unspoken consent - the conversations would be kept short, sweet, and to the point. At least between Ryou and Zakuro.
Neither of them quite knew what to say to one who could, in public circles, easily be regarded as an equal. Depending on the paticular society grouping, one might even be found superior.
Zakuro was one of Japan's most reknown models, doing shoots in every country, and having been on almost every continent. She was a stunning dark-haired beauty, almost of Japan's canon, were it not for the height that made her desirable in the eyes of fashion designers everywhere. She could speak fluently in five languages, and manage conversationally in several others. She'd been taking dance lessons - modern and traditional - since she was a child, and still continued with the training, for she found that she was rather fond of the gracious motions.
Ryou was an heir to a fortune that the vast majority couldn't even begin to imagine. He was a suave buisnessman, since after assuming the affairs of his parents and assuming the role, he had been nothing less than a rousing success. He was also extremely perceptive when it came to the stock market. And he had certainly made a splash in the tabloids; blonde, blue eyes, very photogenic, and apparently full of secrets - he was a writer's dream come true.
...someone's camera was liable to burst it's lens, by the end of the night.
* * * * *
Flashbulbs had been going off in front of the Hikari NMC function building for almost an hour. It seemed as though there was no end to the onslaught of famous faces.
But the rush seemed to be over, and those members of the press who had not recieved an invitation had been milling around outside the building, talking amongst themselves, trading information, and laying bets at to who would be among the last to arrive, guest-wise.
From reaction, all their cameras raised as one, as another limousine pulled up, and the door opened enough for the flashbulbs to start shooting glaring light into the light blue eyes of the young entrepeneur, Shirogane Ryou, as he got out of the vehicle.
"Ah! Shirogane-san! Did you recieve an invitation?"
"Are you a sponsor?"
"Have you donated any money to the Hikari funds?"
"Who's you date?"
Ryou only offered a slight smirk, of which several pictures were captured, before he turned around, and with what seemed to be a gallant gesture, offered his arm to his date.
All the photographers leaned forward...
And were rather shocked to see Fujiwara Zakuro emerge from the limousine, on Ryou's arm. As she straightened, she offered a publicity-friendly smile to the photographers.
"Are you two dating?"
"Fujiwara-san! Are you thinking about switching agencies?"
"Please, let us get a good picture!"
"...you've just thrown me to the human wolves, you know." Zakuro muttered quietly, casting a quick glance towards Ryou.
"Better you than me. Better you than me."
"Please, pose!"
Zakuro manuvered herself next to Ryou, standing alongside him. "...at least give them a photo that their editors will die over."
He laughed, and slid an arm around her narrow waist, letting the hand fall to rest on one of her shapely hips, and pulling her closer.
Obligingly, she rested one of her hands on his chest, and leaned her forehead against his shoulder, her dark eyes turned towards the camera, with a faintly secretive half-smile on her face. Tabloids seemed to enjoy getting that look, from anyone.
...but she hadn't anticipated the fact that he would be so...perfect.
Flashbulbs popped for another few seconds, before their attention shifted, to the next oncoming limousine, and assuming the position, cameras poised for action.
"Free at last... Shall we?" Ryou said, releasing his slight hold on her hip - when had it started to feel good? - and offering his arm to her.
"We've got a long night ahead of us. May as well make some fun out of it."
"You know, you're completely ruining the image I have of you."
"...you've just never bothered to find out, Ryou."
They fell into a silence, before they continued on their way in...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I'm actually liking how this story is developing. So, it's a really safe bet to guess that a new chapter will appear, sometime in the near future... ^_^