Tharja Mamoru Arranged Marriage

[vivalamorte]

"You're getting married."

Mamoru spent most of the next three days processing that one simple phrase. He understood the reason, of course. Six years back with his grandfather. No love life to speak of in that entire time. No other living family... he was concerned about the line. Mamoru knew his grandfather was aging rapidly. Most likely, he wanted to secure the succession for his own peace of mind. He certainly had little reason for confidence that it would happen naturally.

Mamoru didn't protest or complain about the announcement. Still, it was a discomforting thought. There was a reason he hadn't pursued a relationship until now-- several reasons if he were to be honest. He didn't know how he was supposed to overcome those obstacles now just because the motion was being forced.

He went about his daily business as much as possible. The idea slipped from the forefront of his mind under a barrage of more immediately pressing matters. He told no one. Then, before he knew it, he was scheduled to meet her.

Mamoru straightened his tie in the backseat of his ride before giving it a small tug in hopes of loosening it a little; it felt tight about his throat. No doubt the media was going to be all over this once word got out, just as it had been as he debuted onto the political scene in the footsteps of his presumed father, Reiji. Questions of his position on current events and policies, on whether he aimed to go all the way to the Prime Minister's seat as Reiji had.

He was not looking forward to that explosion of public attention. Current events and policies he could at least sound informed about. What was he going to say about his future bride? As yet, Mamoru knew little about the young woman to whom he was affianced. An ambassador's daughter whose appearance recommended her as well as her status was all he'd been told. Mamoru would have preferred knowing something about her interests or personality, but it seemed he'd be flying blind in that regard. He would just have to hope he could keep the conversation more about her. He wasn't particularly keen to divulge much about himself anyway.

Well, it wasn't as though he had no practice putting on a good face to strangers. The sleek black sedan pulled to a stop in front of the Ritz-Carlton in Tokyo Midtown, which housed Azure 45, heralded as one of the best restaurants in the country. A valet opened the door to the car to let him out and escorted him to the private dining room overlooking a gorgeous cityscape.

Truth be told, it was all entirely too fancy for him. The chandelier of metallic bubbles, the menu of items most people wouldn't even be able to pronounce, the three-piece suit and polished shoes that pinched his feet. Given the choice, he would have opted for a quaint café by a park with a walking trail.

Then again, choice wasn't really the name of the game here, was it? Of course two young members of the upper crust would be at a place like this instead. Mamoru was a good twenty minutes early, so he seated himself at the window end of the entirely too large table and skimmed the wine menu while he waited.

Hidden beneath his coat at his beltline, he kept a small case with four slender darts. Mamoru had a new name, a new home, a new family, and a new career, but some habits never changed.

Comments

[vivalamorte]

Perhaps it bode well that his retort made her smirk and perhaps it didn't. It could mean that she took the disses as well as she gave them or it could mean he'd sparked a wrathful temper.

There was no time to contemplate it further, however, nor time to answer her question. Mamoru abruptly stood from the table, gaze and attention now fully directed at the stoic bodyguard that was coming toward them. His expression was not friendly.

"What's the matter," he said, calling the man out.

[yaydanger]

Tharja didn't bother getting up or even looking at the bodyguard, even as his burly hand came on her shoulder.

"Miss Tharja. We need to leave."

She slowly moved the pearl in her left hand to her right. "We haven't even ordered yet."

"Now, miss Tharja." His voice growled, growing impatient, ignoring Mamoru - which was mistake one.

As the bodyguard raised his other hand, only the skillful eyes of an assassin - or something akin - could spot the hidden knife in the man's sleeve.

[vivalamorte]

Mamoru caught the glimmer of silver and responded on raw instinct.

It wasn't the knife; keeping a concealed weapon up one's sleeve wasn't alarming if you were talking about a bodyguard. That was, in fact, something of a smart practice. The trouble was that the man's movements did not match up to intention to keep it concealed, nor to allow Tharja to rise. A hand on the shoulder pinned down. With the other arm lifting, Mamoru thought he knew why there was some nervousness between the two standing guard.

"Look out!"

As an assassin, aim had been his forte. He used projectiles of all sorts: darts, arrows, throwing knives. Even now, he had a pack of darts under his suit coat, but the knife at the place setting was easier reach (and required less explanation).

With no time to bridge the distance given the table between them, Mamoru swiped it up and hurled it at the man's raised arm. It collided with the concealed knife, knocked it out of the sleeve, and fell with it to clatter harmlessly on the floor.

By then, in a decidedly ungentlemanly manner, Mamoru had scaled the table from the chair and was jumping across to meet the attackers on Tharja's side.

[yaydanger]

It was obvious the bodyguard hadn't expected this kind of trouble from Mamoru, suddenly shouting out in pain and staggering back. Mamoru would find no trouble tackling this pathetic excuse for a killer down, but there was the second bodyguard to worry about. While other restaurant occupants screamed and ran, waiter included, he was heading for the couple, determined to finish the job.

But thinking Tharja would just quietly sit there during these attacks was mistake number two.

As Mamoru took care of the first man, she had already started to get out of her seat. With a good, hard throw, the pearl left her hand and hit the second man in the face - it shattered upon intact, releasing a horrific poisonous acid upon his face. He screamed, clawing at his pulsing red face in pain.

Sorry for the delay! Work wiped me out this week

[vivalamorte]

Mamoru landed in a crouch and swept his leg out to knock the man to the floor. The idea was to quickly move to disarming the second... except it seemed that was already handled.

He missed Tharja's throw; instead he heard the small crack of something shattering and the screaming that followed it. He looked up, quickly assessing that something corrosive was on his face. Later, he would think back and fully process what that meant. For now he was only thinking about disarming the threat. The acid meant his attention should stay focused on the first attacker, who was scrambling to pick up one of the knives on the floor.

Mamoru sprung over and planted the heel of his foot on the blade. The second knife he swept out of reach with his other foot.

"What's this about?" He demanded.

life happens, no worries

[yaydanger]

The first bodyguard at least made an attempt to hold any remaining pieces of his dignity. "I'm not saying another word." He grunted, trying to stay as still as humanly possible. The second was still reeling in agony - whatever had gotten on his face was long lasting and painful, becoming worse by the second. As such, Tharja calmly left his side and came to Mamoru's arm, offering another poisonous pearl.

"If he's not being cooperative, we can always send a message to his employers." Tharja was practically purring. She never would have guessed this unassuming man was capable of such power - of such agility - of such brutality. Be still her beating heart.

[vivalamorte]

Mamoru's expression was cold and emotionless as he gazed down at the 'guard' on the floor. When Tharja joined him standing over the man, he regarded her for a moment in curiosity. He realized two things at that point. The first was that she must have been responsible for the acid attack. The second was that she seemed in a considerably better mood now, and Mamoru was not sure just what to make of that. Typically, the discovery that you were involved with someone dangerous was unsettling. Typically, an attack on one's life sent a person into fear, panic, unease-- at the very least, displeasure. Typically, a person didn't know how to fend for themselves in such a situation.

Clearly, Tharja was not your typical girl.

Her skill and cool head were qualities to recognize and admire once he'd had a little more time for their appearances to sink in. For now, it was surprise, mild confusion, and appreciation, though it was only barely evident in his expression.

He looked back down at the attacker.

"I don't think she's kidding. You might want to listen."

Those screams sounded pretty painful. Permanent facial scarring, Mamoru guessed.

[yaydanger]

The bodyguard looked back and forth between them - the emotionless man who had defeated him with little to no effort, and the young lady who could apparently saw poison as an aphrodisiac - and decided perhaps dignity wasn't so important. "I-It was just a job! A warning to her old man! I'll tell the cops everything, just... back off!"

Tharja was a little disappointed she wouldn't get to throw more acid into people's faces but she suppose she could always save it for a special occasion. She decided to let Mamoru take the reigns and decide what would be done with this pathetic excuse of meat. She happily pocketed her remaining pearls, and instead placed her hands on Mamoru's back. She was just content to stay here and appreciate his skill from behind. Like a stalker.

[vivalamorte]

Mamoru tried not to let it show that he was a little thrown-- and maybe just a wee bit unnerved-- by Tharja moving behind him and putting her hands on his back. Yes, they were supposed to be getting married, but these two goons were supposed to be protecting her, and look how that turned out. For a former assassin, a stranger with poisonous weapons out of your field of vision was never a comforting thought.

For the time being, however, he ignored it in favor of those who were already established as an enemy. Ultimately, it was preferable to have himself between them and their target. He pulled out his phone and pushed a few buttons to activate the video recorder.

"I have a better idea," he suggested. "You can tell us everything. Now."

Like hell he was trusting the man to remember his promise once his tail was out of the fire.

[yaydanger]

Fortunately, Tharja didn't seem to want anything except just to stay in her position and bask in Mamoru's shadow. She had no intention of hurting him at all - in fact, her mind was already pages ahead on how to spend the honeymoon night. Unbeknownst to anyone, as Tharja had never been in love before, she was the type to sink her claws in and never let go. It didn't need to be anymore complicated than she liked him, end of story.

It never factored in what he might think of her new-found passion. It was inconsequential. He was her Mamoru now. Mamoru, Mamoru, stealthy, skillful, deadly "Ma-Mo-Ru." No, it wasn't his imagination, she was happily saying his name just like that.

The second bodyguard had long since passed out due to sheer pain, leaving the only troublesome matter under Mamoru's heels. As for the bodyguard, Tharja's singsong attitude was only making his hysteria worse. He began to babble everything he could remember - the names of his employers, dates and times they had met, how much money had been promised, even the type of car his boss owned, it would just get him away from these freaks!

[vivalamorte]

Mamoru couldn't particularly blame the man on the floor for getting creeped out. It was a struggle to keep composure himself, and if they'd been alone right now rather than taking care of a pair of would-be assassins, he probably would have lost that struggle and asked her what was wrong. Not... that he was really in a position to talk. A young man that was supposed to be all money and manners that turned in an instant to a knife-throwing, table-jumping fighter? He might have some explaining of his own to do.

That would be awkward.

He caught every word from the 'bodyguard' on his camera, making sure to report the date and time and have him say his name on air. About the same time he finished, security burst in and took over custody of the two attackers.

It was sinking in now just how coolly Tharja had handled everything. It was impressive... maybe a little comforting, too. Association with him came with more than its fair share of dangers. Naturally he would take precautions to keep his family safe, but it didn't hurt that she knew how to defend herself. If worse came to worse, she could keep a clear head and fight back.

He stepped off the blade and shifted to look at her over his shoulder. Normally, he would have asked his date if she was all right about now. It seemed a silly question here, maybe even insulting considering how she'd handled herself.

"It looks like dinner here isn't going to work out." He didn't look very disappointed about it. "Is there anywhere you'd like to go instead?"

[yaydanger]

Perhaps by now, a normal person would have moved to talk face to face with him. It was clearly established by now that Tharja was far from normal. In fact, she actually preferred this angle. This way, she was in his shadow, always with him and never letting him out of her sight. She seemed to ignore the security guards handling the rest of the situation, and the entire calamity the restaurant was in. As far as she wa concerned, things were fantastic.

"Hm?" She glanced up, now that she was being addressed. "... Oh. I suppose we can't stay here..." She sighed, more annoyed by that than truly upset. "... Anywhere is fine, really... Watching you work has really given me an appetite."

[vivalamorte]

Watching him work? That was an odd comment. He'd barely done anything; those assassins were ridiculously unprepared, physically and mentally alike. Mamoru wasn't ready to call a quick intervention 'work'... and really, that was all it was, wasn't it? It certainly wasn't a fight.

At least she wasn't hurt or upset. Really, it was lucky she was reacting like this. This was a lot easier and more familiar than hysterics. Tharja was amazingly nonchalant about the entire affair. He offered a small smile.

"We're a little overdressed, but let's try Yamato-ya. It's close, and I've heard they have good food." And it was authentic Japanese instead of the French they would have been having where they were. From what he'd gathered of Tharja from their brief conversation, that might be more to her tastes anyway. Mamoru knew it was closer to his, and there should be much better selection there.