The Peninsula

The Fiction and Poetry Archive of Liana Mir and scribblemyname



“You’re not exactly what I expected,” she stated.

Kusanagi looked up with interest from mixing her martini.

Awashima Seri had been coming to HOMRA more often, even regularly. They’d discussed mostly clan affairs. Despite the destruction of the Slates, Scepter 4 had plenty of work policing the strains created before its destruction, and Homura remained useful as an organization rooted in the city streets and too familial to disband.

But occasionally, they talked about other things than clans.

“You’re quite responsible,” Seri told him.

He chuckled and gave her the drink. “Not frivolous?”

“Still frivolous.” She softened. “But also responsible.”