In Cold Blood [Ash Lynx] - Banana Fish

Twenty-Two - Woke Up In Japan

Ash clears his throat, gaining the attention of Tora, who turns around, eyebrows raised and slightly out of breath.

"Oh hey, I wasn't sure when you'd be awake."

"Here I am."

She sends him a sincere smile, tossing the towel to the side as she grabs the red bandage wrap and starts wrapping her wrists and backs of her hands up. "I asked Sensei to train me while you slept. Did you sleep okay? Jet-lagged?"

He shrugs. "I slept as good as I could have. Have you got anything sweet I can eat?"

"Oh, hypoglycaemic right? Have a look around in the kitchen, you're free to have anything. Unless you want to go out for breakfast?"

He waves a hand dismissively. "It's fine."

The sliding door opens again and her Sensei walks back into the training room again, hands holding onto a pair of wooden nunchucks.

Tora pushes her hair out of her face, looking behind herself as she spots him in the mirror. "Oh Sensei, koreha asshudesu. Ash, this is Fujimara."

Ash nods his head, Fujumara doing the same in return.

Holding his hand up and making a diving motion, Fujimara looks between Tora and Ash. "Airplane, New York, sleepy?"

Putting his broken English together, Ash tucks his hands into his pockets. "Yes, very jet-lagged this morning."

Fujimara looks at Tora for an explanation and once she translates, Fujimara nods, turning and flipping the nunchucks quickly between his hands in a skilled manner.

"Yuri, floor." He tells her and she rubs her hands together, kneeling on the floor into a push-up position. Wrapped hands clenching into fists, she balanes on her knuckles and toes, pushing up and down.

As she completes more push-ups, her face strains more as she goes, puffing and huffing.

From the bottom of the stairs, Ash watches her continue her training before he interrupts.

"I'll grab something to eat, Tora."

She looks to the side as she holds her push up position down a few inches from the floor. Screwing her face up in pain as more sweat rolls down her face, she nods, answering with a strained voice. "Sounds good. There's somewhere I want to show you later as well."

He raises an eyebrow at her, arms crossed. "Not somewhere weird, you swear?"

"Of course not," She huffs, collapsing to the floor as Fujimara mutters something to her in Japanese. She wipes her brow, shaking her head at him. "I want to show you around Tokyo while we make our next move. Just trust me, okay?"

"Low profile?"

She sits up on her knees. "You don't need to worry."

-

Lighter flickering in the wind, Tora shields the end of the cigarette with her hands —knuckles bruised— lighting it as she inhales deeply.

"Do you enjoy killing your lungs from the inside?"

She raises her eyebrows, turning to him. "Huh?"

Ash nods to the cigarette, hands in his jacket pockets. "The cigarette, dummy."

"I've smoked since I was fifteen," Tora shrugs, stuffing the packet back in her jacket as she exhales. "You've drunk since you were that age or younger, I assume? We all have our vices, cut me some slack."

He tuts dismissively, glancing around. "What are we doing here then?"

Shaking her head, she grabs his wrist and pulls him along. "You westerners are so disrespectful, honestly."