#your starter

Soma looks at his phone, his thumbs poised above the screen, hesitating for a second before turning it off and putting it away. The text weighs heavy in his pocket. Please call me. 

It takes him a minute to compose himself and exit the bathroom to join the swarm of white lab coats that are making their way into the ER, exchanging a few greeting nods with colleages and a wave at Hiroko, a third year residency doctor who he’d been thinking of asking out for a few weeks, and would’ve probably done so already if not for the incident. She might’ve even said yes, but as it is, a relationship that once had been sharing a coffee when one of them couldn’t get their own, moving heaven and earth so their lunch breaks would align, and a kiss under the bluish light of the surgery room, is reduced to a wave and a polite smile before Hiroko leaves. No words exchanged.

It doesn’t bother him and he doesn’t care because he has a job to do, and that’s all that matters. Everything else is secondary. He’s still got a job, and about ten medical histories to check before he starts seeing patients, and—  

“Dr. Kawamura,” a stern voice calls behind him. He doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is, but he has to, because as much as he wishes he could escape the attending physician, there’s no avoiding him now. 

“Dr. Takahashi,” he starts, as he turns to look at him, already bracing himself for when he finds thick greyish eyebrows furrowed in displeasure and eyes staring at him with an intensity that betrays what he actually thinks of Soma, but professionalism forbids him to say out loud. “Is there something—?”

He abruptly stops speaking when he realises Dr. Takahashi isn’t alone. 

“This is Chishiya Shuntaro, medical student. You’ll be in charge of him for the day.”

“If it was up to me, we wouldn’t be here, but Momo missed you, you know.” Ray teased as he walked directly into his sister’s house after unlocking the door himself. “If you’re naked, get un-naked.” he called out when he realized CJ was nowhere to be found.

Jenny was being escorted somewhere, that’s all she really knew. It had taken a few days to find a library wherever it was that she’d wound herself at, get a handle on the language, and find somewhere to sit at nights trying to understand her environment. The situation had happened quite pacifingly, until she’d been grabbed by the soldiers.

“Not much of a talker, are ya?” Cicero asks this with a sort of bored tone.

It would seem that this particular mission in the Strip was ‘dangerous’ and so he was assigned a ‘bodyguard’ of sorts. Which was strange enough. Cicero could take care of himself, proved he could take care of himself. So what gives? It almost felt like he was in trouble. Like he was being punished by being assigned a ‘babysitter’ almost. Sure he caused the Legion a little bit of undue trouble on his last mission, but surely it didn’t warrant... well... this!

Not only that, but the brutish man who now followed him across the hot sands towards the Strip didn’t seem to be much of a conversationalist. Opting mostly to stay to himself. Stay quiet.  Some would think that having a partner would be fun. Or at least help with the loneliness of the desert. But currently? It only felt a bit uncomfortable. Being watched all the time by someone he had only just met. A Centurion. A sledgehammer wielding brute whom Cicero had heard of before. Wherein Cicero trusted his wiles and knives, this one trusted in his hammers and the pounding drums of war.

                                                    ‘              dear god, valkyrie, what is that ?   ’