Aniel estava de pernas cruzadas, a mente nas nuvens enquanto as pontas dos dedos batendo levemente na superfície da mesa. O procurador era uma criatura diurna, então para estar fora de casa após o anoitecer era necessário algum tipo de reforço: na mesa em sua frente estavam dispostos um copo de café espresso misturado com leite e gelo, e uma garrafa de água com gás.

Embora não estivesse se sentindo inseguro ou desconfortável, aquele bar era um tanto quanto suspeito. Era pouco iluminado e as duas funcionárias se revezam sem trocar uma palavra sequer para atender os poucos clientes ali. Aniel contava quatro pessoas no estabelecimento, inclusive ele mesmo. Mas o local fora sugestão de Grimory, o qual aguardava ansiosamente, então não iria reclamar.

Aquele estava sendo um bom dia para Aniel.

Primeiro, sua padaria favorita estava fazendo uma promoção de cinnamon rolls - "Leve 5, pague 3" -, segundo, o céu estava azul e a temperatura do dia estava confortável o suficiente para usar uma camiseta e calça jeans, terceiro, estava em na estação de metrô em direção a um parque para apreciar seus pães recheados de canela em paz. Certamente nada poderia estragar aquele dia.

Moisture still fresh on the facility's surrounding blades of grass in this early hour; and he was already up and running. …Sort of. He'd lie if he said several factors didn't tempt to stop him from getting out of the futon this morning, but. Running on willpower wasn't a foreign concept to this guy.

That said.

Even years in, her stunning figure in her sleep - adorned with the (expensively) rented Yukata, her bare figure underneath hinted through the inevitable openings of her robe. In this season, kicking away the blanket in the middle of the night was a given (among other excuses for why it's hot); which only served to expose more of her sleeping form. He'd seen that for a couple years now, but. It always felt different, on this day.

Soothed, slow-paced breathing in her slumber. At ease, as she should be.

A muffled yawn as he rose up, slowly; Groggily deciding to get things in motion. The fact the covers have been removed earlier that night meant less change of him waking the lady up, should he shuffle himself out of bed - a thought that would only occur to him later on. Possibly, only after she'd joined. He could only think of the basics, with his state half-awake.

It wasn't just her presence that drew him in to stay in bed, of course. In his awakening state, Ikkaku took note of his will to stay in between the sheets, wasting away the day. It was easier to stay in, after all - and, with how much they'd dumped into this vacation, nobody would say a thing if they did. …Nobody except, probably either of them. -- Not that they didn't pull that stunt before, of course; just...

A ceremonious day needed a ceremonious way to celebrate. And after meticulously planning (read: deciding on a whim) where and how they'd spend the day, he'd grow fussy if they went and skipped everything. Even if she protested that she preferred to stay in bed, he knew she would appreciate it all the same, if they actually did something a tad more extravagant this time.

Wearily rising, Ikkaku made silenced, but tired steps towards the near bathroom to wash his face, and force himself awake. Having to open the sliding door of their rented room in the process, turning around to give the blond a last look as he slid it open; then exited, closing the door behind himself.

... ... ... ...

"Hope yer ready," Early, but not overly early a morning hour; the sun already having rose and about a couple hours into his wake, Ikkaku's ever-energetic spirit washed over the room as a backpack hung from one of the straps, encircling his shoulder; "Today, we're scaling this mountain all the way to the top!!"

Surely, a much more secluded hot spring awaits there. At least, that's what he was told.

Don't you just love Mountain Day?

Morning – somehow.

It felt as if mere minutes had passed from when they had finally drifted to sleep, their murmured whispers laden heavy with sleep still lingered upon their lips. But the moon had set, and the sun had risen and continued to rise higher into the sky even as she remained in bed.

“Ready…?”

She was far from ready, not just appearance wise, but mentally, physically…the only thing she was ready for was to sink back down into the sheets and snuggle into the pillow once more. Yet, based on his fully awake, dressed and ‘prepped’ appearance – she was lagging.

“Ready for what?” It was half spoken in a yawn as her right arm raised, left tucked back as she stretched her full form that caused a rejuvenation of sorts. It shook the sleep from her form, dragging her mind out of the haze of slumber and brought her squarely into the present.

“Climb the mountain?” Her expression deadpanned as she leveled the emotionless stare upon him. How long had he been up? When did he plan this? Climb a mountain – wasn’t this supposed to be a relaxing vacation for their anniversary?

Shifting in her seated position she cocked her head gently to the side; fingers drummed momentarily against the plush comforter of the futon. “What if…instead….” Her fingers began to shift and swirl against the bedding, drawing his mind back to how they gripped it the night before, “we simply stay in... I’m sure it could be just as rigorous and exhilarating as a mountain climb…”

Oh? Was that a twinkle in his eye, the faintest flinch in his stance – had she managed to ensnare him and get her out of this exhausting excursion?

No.

The inn, out of sight. Their bed, folded away. The relaxing vacation she had envision – not here! No, she was carrying a backpack hiking up a mountain, glaring at the back of her boyfriend’s sweaty, bald head. Yeah, she was bringing that up.

A wide pair of eyes peered around the corner leading into the SWA meeting room. She then darted back, and adjusted her shihakusho to accentuate her bust, but most importantly, the pink shawl that draped her shoulders.

Then, stepping in, the third seat of 7th division waved towards the others, before taking her seat for the meeting, as the minutes-keeper. A good job, if you don't talk.

Unprompted Ask | Always Accepting

They say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery – after all, she herself once imitated her idols when she was younger. She was certain that there were other female shinigami who took notes on the way she carried herself, small mannerisms that they picked up to try and emulate in their day to day activities. Come on, she was Rangiku Matsumoto after all.

Still, it was meant to be imitation, not copy and paste. She could have accepted an adjusted shihakusho, or even a shawl. But both? And the shawl being pink?! Pink was not Shoyo’s color.

Her gaze darted from the Third Seat to the clock above the door – how much time till her mothers’ saw this and she was squarely set between SoiFon’s crosshairs.

Unprompted Ask | Always Accepting

Casually, she leaned against the edge of her desk, shifting her weight to allow her ankles to cross; so too did her arm folded beneath her bust.

Unprompted Asks | Always Accepting

Her hands stilled the shuffling of papers as he spoke. He dropped that interesting tidbit of information like he was noting the weather outside. Her head lifted, throwing a gaze over her shoulder in his direction.

Unprompted Ask | Always Accepting

It was a perfectly tranquil morn…eh, afternoon. Soft sunlight was streaming in, the bed was comfortable, there was even a songbird just outside the window serenading her lazy half slumber. In the distance she thought she heard the front door of their apartment open, but she heard nothing after – Ikkaku wasn’t one to slink in silently, he was much more bull in a China store than stealthy cat burglar. So, she lulled back into her blissful peaceful –

YOU SON OF A BITCH.