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Your sword gently snapped back into its sheath and the demon who’d been plaguing the town’s farmlands fell to her knees, newly deceased. There was blood splatter on your companion’s pants as she made a beeline for the demon’s head some ten paces away and began beating it into the dirt.
“C’mon,” you said, exasperation and fatigue tinging your voice. “She’s already dead; there’s no need to disrespect her like that.”
Your friend looked up, already-disintegrating grey matter dripping from her trembling hands. Your own clothes were in a bad state: shredded uniform top and gore-soaked bottoms, your haori in tatters around your shoulders. It had been one nasty fight. Nothing overly difficult, but the thorny tentacles had been a pain to deal with.
“…Sorry. I got a bit mental.”
And you’d gotten a bit sad. You could still remember the final light in the demon’s apple-green eyes. Bloodshot as they might’ve been, her impending death had been reflected all too clearly, and though you told yourself to get used to it—
“It’s fine. Let’s go and find an inn somewhere, yeah?” Your voice grew more chipper with each word. “I’ve never actually been to this town! Would be good to get a little sightseeing in before we have to report back!”
Your friend allowed you to steer her away; by now only ashes were left, blowing into the horizon by the chilly night breeze. Neither of you cast a single glance backwards, and soon civilisation came into view, hand-in-hand with the rising sun. Stout buildings were interspersed with a smattering of taller ones, with streets wide enough to not be too rural, but strewn with enough sandy dirt and vegetable debris to suggest a stolidly countryside vibe.
Conversation returned the closer you got to the gates.
“I haven’t seen your brother around lately, is he doing alright?”
“Um, yeah, I think so,” you instinctively scanned the forest behind your friend. “You know how he is. He’s going to come back smelling like wolves and swamplands again since baths aren’t a thing in the wilds.”
If he comes back at all —but you didn’t say that, because why on earth would you?
Your friend’s nose wrinkled. “I mean, he always seems happier in that…state.”
“He is , and you know, I respect that,” you emphasised exaggeratedly. “But you don’t know how it feels to wake up in the middle of the night to him howling at the full moon with a human mouth. It’s—,”
You shivered and your friend laughed, the sound coinciding with a crow that caw-cawed its way down to land on her head. Laughter warped into a garbled screech as the crow dug its claws in and intoned:
“Chinen Mataba, your presence is requested in Hakodate as soon as possible. With respect to travelling time, we shall allow you a week’s delay.”
“What!” Your friend all but shouted, grabbing the crow and yanking it out of her hair. “ Hakodate ?! Now? D’you know how long it—?!”
“Which is why we are allowing you a week’s delay,” repeated the crow. Whoever sent the message had obviously expected this. “We will also cover the train fare…so get your ass here, now .”
The crow’s beak closed and it eyed the both of you reproachfully. Your friend spluttered for a second, then released the bird, turning wearily towards you.
“…Rain check on the sightseeing?” She moped.
“Yeah, it’s no problem!” You shoved away the disappointment bubbling in your chest and bumped shoulders with her. “You get to go to Hokkaido, all-expenses paid! I think there’s a train station here—,”
“There isn’t,” your friend slumped even more. “I checked around when we first arrived. Seems like I’ll have to run to Tokyo and hope I get there by tomorrow night.”
“So…”
“I’ve gotta go.”
You smiled in what you thought was an understanding way.
+++
It was as lonely a walk as you’d thought it would be, through the streets of a town that had yet to properly wake up. You found a fairly-priced inn just outside the centre and paid for a single night, because while you could’ve just gone back to headquarters, you figured that you should at least treat yourself to four walls and a futon since you were already there. For your impromptu-travelling friend’s sake, if nothing else.
You sure hoped she would cash in that rain check at some point.
As you plodded up the stairs, beyond ready to get out of your bloodied uniform, and trudged past half a handful of other rooms, you spotted one door slightly ajar in your peripheral. You peeped in as a passer-by would, sliding your eyes in with no real intention, and the glimpse of a familiar back stuttered your steps.
Was that—?!
“Kyojuro?!”
Instantly, you slapped your hands over your mouth, sweat breaking out like hives, but the damage was done. Rengoku Kyojuro, Pillar of Flame, one of the top oni kari in your generation, your stolid friend, and your hopelessly silly crush, whipped around at the sound of his name. Of course; the guy had probably heard you breathing through the walls.
“Ryoko!” He bellowed and the blood rushed to your face. Rengoku leapt up, revealing a flash of the low writing table he’d been sitting at, and wrenched the door wide open, his typical, blinding grin lighting up the corridor. “Fancy seeing you here! Suppose you had a mission nearby, was it! You should’ve told me! I would’ve gladly helped out!”
Ye gods , he was loud. Your embarrassment shifted from Rengoku himself to everyone else on the floor, or maybe the entire inn. It was still in the wee hours, after all.
“H-hi, Kyojuro, look, could we just,” you put a finger to his lips and shh -ed, darting your eyes to another door. “A bit? It’s kinda early, you know, and—,”
“Oh! Of course!” Rengoku roared with a laugh and a hand slapped to his forehead. “How silly of me, hah, forgetting that this is not my house nor is it the Ubuyashiki estate! Haha! Come in, come in!”
Without thinking, you hastily did as bidden, trying to get the noise menace out of public earshot as quickly as possible. It was only when the door closed behind you and ‘ I sure hope the walls aren’t too thin’ scrolled through your mind that you released you were in a room, alone, with Rengoku Kyojuro, Pillar of Flame.
“So!”
You jumped out of your skin.
“How was it?!” How was what ? “Ah! You’ll have to excuse the mess! I was writing some letters back home, you see! And though I am quite unprepared for guests, it is lovely to see a familiar face!”
Oh, the mission . “Uh, it was fine,” the conversational lag caught up to you and you added quickly, “The mission, I mean. It was fine. Done and dusted, haha, you know.”
Goddammit all. You used your supposedly honed breathing techniques to steady your own heart as Rengoku gathered his half-written correspondence into a pile and gestured you to sit, sit.
You hadn’t seen him since before the train incident, the one with Upper Moon Three, and news of his eventual recovery had floored you in relief. Your brother could attest that that was the most you’d ever cried in your life. The man in front of you now seemed the same as before, if slightly weathered in gait and face. His hair was longer, his hands more callused. The stark black of the eyepatch over his left eye rattled you down to your toes.
“Good! Good,” he settled on the other side of the table, finally switching to his approximation of an indoor voice, and beamed at you. Warm, gentle. Said toes curled, unable to catch a break. “You look less beat up than the first couple of times, too. That’s improvement!”
You couldn’t help but smile back, a bit of the uptight tension draining out of your shoulders.
“Thank you, but I’m still a mess,” you admitted, shifting awkwardly on your calves. You’d folded your legs under you, but some of the gunk on your pants was still wet. “I’m going to get blood on your floor…”
“Hah, don’t worry about it! I’ve brought in worse, believe me.”
Has he? “And what are you doing here, Kyojuro? If, if that’s okay to ask,” you added, cringing.
“Oh, something like a holiday, I suppose,” Rengoku hummed, tapping a finger on the table. “Or a leave of absence; that’s what Tengen called it. Of course, when I hear trouble brewing, I stifle it the best I can, but on account of all this”—a full-body sweep of his hand—“I’m to lay low for a couple.”
“…Of weeks? Months?”
Rengoku laughed. “They never told me! So, I’m planning to get back to it by the end of this week. Be a neat three weeks by then, and I’m feeling much better now.”
You grasped for something to say that wasn’t ‘I’m super glad you’re still alive’ , but Rengoku interrupted your thoughts (as he always did):
“And how long are you going to be here for?”
He fixed that golden gaze on you.
“Ah, well, the plan’s only a night. It was gonna be more, but I came here with Mataba, right, and then she was called to Hakodate”—Rengoku made a sympathetic face—“so our plans to just hang out for a bit kinda aren’t happening.”
“Mm, I hope she gets there safely.”
“So do I.”
“Mm,” he repeated, then paused for a beat. “In that case, I would be more than happy to accompany you, Ryoko, should you wish to explore. I know I’m a poor substitute for your friend, but I know my fair share of nooks, though some crannies still evade me. Perhaps we could uncover them together?”
“I—,” you fumbled, no, you weren’t fumbling! The words had just sunk into your tired brain, the invitation . Rengoku Kyojuro himself, offering to share a couple of his holiday days with you, one-on-one? You’ve been to his house before, hung out with him and all, but never in private! “I mean, yes ! Yes. That’d be aweso-great! But, I mean, are you sure? You should rest! I-I don’t want to be a burden or anything.”
Rengoku laughed, and it occurred to you that it was the third time you’d managed to make him do so. “Of course! Like I said, more than happy. Excited now, even! New things are better with someone else to share them with, don’t you think?”
He must’ve seen the sudden, faint hesitation in your eyes, because he added, “ Especially if it’s someone I enjoy spending time with, Ryoko.”
The dissenting, doubting voices in the pit of your heart quieted under Rengoku’s genuine smile, the corners of his remaining eye lifting up easily and wholeheartedly.
+++
After a bath and further payments to the innkeeper, you went out (with)(Rengoku!) to find something for breakfast. Preferably as hearty as you could get, since you’d just killed a demon and Rengoku was Rengoku. Your relationship with the Pillar was actually quite good, having spent a bit of time training with him and considerably more time just hanging out, if you could believe it. His home estate was a little like your summer home; incredibly, Senjuro and your own brother got along quite well. Your fatigue from earlier had clouded your reactions; now, fresh and full of rice, you were back to being buddy-buddy with him and you felt at ease, light-hearted even.
At least during daylight hours.
He showed you the places he’d discovered during his alone time in town: hidden sweet shops, two alleys regularly frequented by stray cats, a small art store that still sold ukiyo-e pieces, a tiny patch of greenery that passed for a park and had an even tinier pond. You stopped for lunch at a touted udon place (he insisted that it was his treat; you swore dinner would be yours) and found it overrated.
The first and second days passed like this, so carefree that at times you found yourself forgetting, however briefly, who you were and who he was. Your rooms, formerly clean and bare, gradually filled with small knick-knacks you bought for each other. A red-gold fan, a pair of hanafuda earrings, hair ties with faux-jade clasps, a small porcelain pot…you didn’t have a huge budget, but one or two (or three or four) couldn’t hurt, right?
He started to hold your hand. At first, it was a clamp on your wrist to drag you to and fro. This grew into him grabbing your entire hand, fingers and all, and when you half-jokingly complained that it felt weird, he up and Properly Interlocked your fingers. You prayed to everything you knew that you wouldn’t sweat too much, but it was nice. Nicer than you ever thought hand-holding could be.
The third day ended with the two of you in your room, playing a card game that your friend had taught you some months ago. Rengoku lost so often due to his abysmal poker face that you felt you could’ve blackmailed him with how bad he was. He called for rematch after rematch with such fervour that your neighbour actually came to knock on your door. Your ears burned after that.
When you opened the window that night for some air, the moon was strikingly bright. Rengoku stood next to you, shoulder-to-shoulder, his unruly hair tickling your skin through fabric, and you exchanged old myths and stories, words drifting through the darkness in a peaceful susurrus. In a late-night fit of bravery, you gingerly laid your head on his shoulder and stifled your heart when he smoothly angled to wrap an arm around you like it was the most natural thing in the world, all while chattering about Amaterasu and her brother.
Then, a shrill scream had shattered your little tableau. In less than three blinks, you and Rengoku were out that very same window, swords in hand. It was over in a matter of minutes—you tried your hardest not to let a Pillar show you up, though.
The fourth and final night is one you’re not likely to forget in this life.
+++
“Hah! This doesn’t taste half bad!” Rengoku set down his cup none-too-gently on the same low table he’d been using to write letters. It was now clear of everything save for a bottle of sake, two cups, and two small plates of dried squid crackers. The innkeeper had given the bottle to the two of you as a gift on behalf of the town for the save last night.
“Have you even had much alcohol?” You asked dubiously, sipping at yours.
“Nope! Not as much as Tengen, at least. Never really had the time!”
“Thought so,” your face felt flushed. “You definitely eat more than you drink.”
Rengoku laughed boisterously, shaking his head, and nudged your calf with his foot. He looked much further along than you were, even though you’d been matching each other drink for drink (could your tolerance be stronger than his?). He seemed in high spirits, the ruddiness in his cheeks going well with the tips of his hair, an innocently flippant grin the likes of which you’ve never seen gracing his face.
“You think I’m joking?” You continued, raising a playful eyebrow. “You should’ve seen the looks on the noodle stall owners’ faces at lunch! On one hand, I’m sure they were glad for the business, but I’m also sure they were thinking about what they were going to do if they ran out of everything before the real lunch rush even started!”
“Ah, but by this metric, we could say that comparatively you eat too little, Ryoko!” Rengoku pressed a hand to the table to emphasise his point.
“I eat a normal amount. It’s not called one portion for nothing, you know.” To emphasise your point, you tossed a squid cracker into your mouth.
Rengoku’s eye honed in on the cracker’s path and all of a sudden you felt a hundred times tipsier.
“…Something on my face?” You ventured, deciding to throw the ball to him.
“Your eyes, nose, and mouth,” replied Rengoku, lips lifting. “And a very sweet blush! Mm! You’re very cute, did you know that, Ryoko?”
Stone-cold sobriety clashed with the pleasant haze of sake. Neither won, so you simply spluttered.
“Wh-what’re you saying all of a sudden?”
“It’s true!”
You gaped. “W-well, you’re p-pretty”—hold on—“h-h-handsome yourself! There!”
“Ahaha, thank you!” Rengoku leant his cheek on a hand and beamed.
“…Thank you. Too.”
You were going to lose it. What was this conversation? Why did the atmosphere suddenly turn…weird? Rengoku was looking at you like he had all the time in the world, your legs were touching, and the window was open but the air felt tight with something you were afraid to name.
Slowly, you set your empty cup down and critically assessed—
“Would you like to kiss, Ryoko?”
“Yeah, yes, that’d be grea”—your voice pitched upwards—“good! Good.”
Rengoku lifted the table out from between the two of you, the cups, bottle, and plates barely budging, and set it aside. He scooted closer while your ass remained glued to the floor and extended a hand to cup your cheek. Your heart was in your mouth; you could feel it in your face.
“You’ve never done this before, have you?” It was the kindest tone imaginable.
You shook your head, not trusting your voice, unconsciously smiling back at him out of habit.
“I haven’t either! At least, nowhere near as much as Tengen, so we’ll figure it out together!”
And with a hearty nod, he pressed his warm, warm lips to yours, guiding you to move alongside him. Open, close, open, close…the headiness of being this close to him, hearing the harmony of your inhales and exhales, smelling his smoke-and-sake scent, feeling his eyelashes on your skin, knowing for sure that he was alive—
You shifted closer to him, laying a cautious hand on his shoulder, which was swiftly covered by his own, reassuring hand. His thumb gently stroked your cheek. Faintly emboldened, you licked at his lips, drawing a pleasantly surprised mm from him, to which he responded in kind.
Rengoku scooped you up as if you were featherlight, settling you on his lap. You were both wearing nemaki, with yours dangerously slipping down your shoulder. Rengoku had loosened his beforehand, and the new position allowed you to (as if you were handling fiery coals) peel the layers off, baring scarred skin to your courageous fingers. Collarbones, then sternum…Rengoku shrugged off the rest himself, and you began kissing him more fervently in order to distract your eyes from raking across his body. It would’ve been borderline rude!
“I’m not made of glass, you know,” murmured Rengoku into your mouth, and you inwardly cringed.
“I know, but it’s just…I’ve never…”
He kissed your nose, then your forehead. You could feel his smile on your skin.
“Mm, I understand. I, too, have been holding myself back, so perhaps this is a pot and kettle situation.”
“Huh? I mean,” through a thudding pulse, you continued. “I’m not some fragile flower, either! I can-I can take it!”
Rengoku chuckled. “Guts! I like it. But how far would you like to go, Ryoko? I will admit, I would be fully content with this alone, but should you wish for more I would most happily oblige.”
He pulled away as he said this and you caught yourself before you could chase his lips. You rotated his question like a rotisserie chicken in your mind. Yours was not exactly a safe profession and most everyone carried some burden they couldn’t share. You had been sure that Rengoku—Kyojuro—was lost to you after the train incident, so having him here, being able to touch him, knowing this wasn’t another dream…you, too, were happy just like this. Though at the same time, you wondered when you would ever get another chance.
This was the last sure night you both had. After tomorrow’s parting, your paths would once again be slathered in mists and fraught with peril.
“…Let’s do it.”
You pushed these words, the best words you could muster, out of your throat and the fingers that were idly carding through your hair slowed.
“You’re sure?”
You nodded as if this hadn’t been your innermost desire for the past several months. “I-I want it to be you, K-Kyojuro. With you. With you, I’m sure about, about everything.”
Rengoku boggled, honest-to-god boggled at you and then his face melted into the sweetest expression on earth. You were pulled into a hug, the strength in his arm at your back sending shivers down your spine, and you returned it as best you could, ploughing your face into the crook of his neck. He enveloped you. It felt like the safest place you could ever imagine.
You heard him laugh, his body shaking slightly, and asked him why.
“I thought, perhaps, the fluttering of my heart was because of the sake”—he tightened his hold on you—“but after you said that, the real reason is quite clear!”
All the blood in your body might as well be swirling in your forehead right now. “Kyojuro, please, stop talking.”
He laughed again and held you to him, knee-walking over to the fluffed-up futons, making you feel a bit like a bear cub of some sort. You unclung from him and fell on the sheets, hair tousled from having fallen out of its usual ponytail long ago. Rengoku hovered over you, his own hair cascading down and tickling your face (frankly, it was a little annoying, but easy to ignore). You took a couple of strands in-between your fingers, semi-stalling.
“What was it you said? Tempura?”
“Hah! That’s the family legend, yes!”
And the tension eased up a bit. He leant down to kiss you and you, getting the hang of it now, responded eagerly, excitedly. From this angle, everything was amplified somehow, and you managed to lose your nemaki before you could even feel embarrassed or shy about it. Large, warm hands covered your skin, tracing lines across the hardened planes and cupping your breasts, squeezing randomly. Every bit of you was sensitive as hell. Every sensation, no matter how clumsy, every brush of skin and breath added red-hot coils of something in the bottom of your stomach, igniting a blaze in your heart.
Your hands wrapped around his neck, venturing up his nape into his hair and tugging lightly.
“Mm, that feels quite nice.”
“O-oh. Cool.”
You internally screamed at your choice of words. Rengoku didn’t seem to mind, as he simply nudged his head into your hands while his own crept downwards, parting the nemaki and plucking at your fundoshi. This was when the situation rapidly dawned on you, but instead of shyness, anticipation narrowly won the day, and you let him unwrap your privates.
“Not really fair, you know,” you murmured between languid kisses, the colour still high in your cheeks. You bumped a knee in the general direction of his crotch, where the nemaki was still somewhat secured.
“Ladies first, hahaha!” He added another laugh when you made a face, finally managing to draw your fundoshi away. You forced yourself up, pushing at his chest, and went to untie his clothes. Your hands were far more practised than his, if only because your hobby was art and when you had the time you studied all sorts of material .
You also had a brother, so you knew what certain things looked like but—
“There, now we’re even,” you sat back on your knees, pinning your eyes to Rengoku’s to avoid looking down. He really was very fit—unsurprising, but still a guilty treat to indulge in. It didn’t look like there was a shred of fat on him.
“Mm!” Rengoku mirrored your posture because he was sometimes odd like that. “Are you ready?”
“…I, uh, s-sure?” Your face burnt. “I-I think so?”
“Here, let me check! May I?” Rengoku crowded in again, making you lie back down, reaching for what lay between your legs.
You stifled a yelp and squeaked out a yes, go ahead .
Fingers! Rough fingers probed softly at your entrance and oh, yeah, you were wet alright. You squirmed at the foreignness, meeting Rengoku’s eyes as they darted up to catch yours. The crimson of his pupils swallowed the sun of his irises, moreso than usual, and you spread your knees ever-so-slightly as a further way to say yeah, go on .
The first finger was the strangest thing you’ve felt thus far but you got used to it fast . Rengoku watched you almost without blinking, which was kind of disconcerting, varying the speed and rhythm of his solo expedition. With his thumb, he patted around for your clit, found it, and gave it a rub each time he could (doubtless something he also learnt from Uzui), and that was kind of incredible. Your breath began to snag in your throat.
“One more?”
Damn and bless him for asking. You nodded, stopping yourself from giving a joking thumbs-up.
Two was a stretch, literally, given how big his fingers were. Rengoku was really working you open now, gradually easing your folds apart and doing more than a little bit of exploration, rubbing here and prodding there. Sometimes it felt like nothing, sometimes it felt weird , and other times you bit back an undignified squeal. It was the latter that Rengoku latched onto, reducing you to a writhing ball of sensation in no time.
“Not only are you very cute, but you make the cutest sounds, Ryoko,” breathed Rengoku, driving his fingers in a bit further, the squelch resounding like a gong in your ears.
“Kyo- ngh -Kyojuro, p-please just,” you grasped the pillow behind you, trying to close your legs, which stopped Rengoku not at all. “I’m ready! I’m ready, just,”
“Mm! It does feel like it!” He withdrew, giving you a breather, and—alright, you had to look now.
The hand that had been fingering you was sliding up and down his shaft, which ended in a neat, proud head that dribbled clear fluid at the tip. He was as thick as you fantasised he might be, though not as long, and the hair at his base was almost comically just like the hair flowing from his head.
Involuntarily, you clenched around nothing and couldn’t drag your eyes away. Rengoku watched you stare with an expression that yelled yep, this is what it is! and you managed to give him a nervous smile.
“Don’t worry, Ryoko!” Rengoku went on all-fours over you and you spread your legs to make room for him to crouch between them. “If it hurts, let me know as soon as it does, alright?”
“G-got it.”
“Are you still ready?”
It took you a moment to understand he wasn’t asking about how wet you were. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”
He hummed and lined himself up. You were fixated on looking down, clenching again at the feeling of his firm cockhead poking at your lower lips. They parted; you screwed your eyes shut. Little gasping noises you almost couldn’t believe were yours shoved out of your mouth, rising and falling with Rengoku’s heavier breaths. There was embarrassingly a lot of lubrication, but though it did its best against the pain you knew was coming, your hands still twisted in the sheets and Rengoku, noticing instantly, swept down to kiss you, using one hand to swipe the scant tear tracks away from your eyes. The other sought yours to clasp it.
He bottomed out with a shared sigh from both of you.
“Mm,” he nodded as if in confirmation. His chest heaved and there was even the slightest quaver in his voice. “Everything alright?”
“Y-yeah,” you puffed, brain working overtime to process the fullness. “You can, can start moving, if you want.”
Rengoku nodded again and began to thrust, shallowly, like he was just pressing himself into you, but after a wet gasp, he started actually moving. Your walls clung to him like thick webs, chasing when he withdrew and smothering when he returned. Skin-on-skin reverberated in the room, sprinkled with more moans and groans from the both of you; you prayed the walls weren’t too thin a second time. It got loud . Rengoku’s strength started slipping through, his hands gripping your hips and your legs clasping around his for anchoring. Your body shook with each pass, breasts bobbing up and down, and you watched him watch you as sweat beaded on his forehead.
The pain evaporated into a form of pleasure unknown to you, and you wanted more . Deeper and harder and faster and without a word Rengoku answered all of those. Coils kept building up in your stomach until you just knew that you were going to—
“K- Kyo —,” you panted, your words melting into keening. Your knees locked together; your walls tightened thrice-over. Rengoku stuttered, gritting his teeth as you pulsed around him, your finishing washing over your entire brain and pumping it full of endorphins.
“Ryoko, I —,” he fisted the pillow next to your head and pulled out of you so abruptly that you actually sobbed. He held himself and finished on your stomach and chest, wincing all the while.
The splashes of ejaculate were hot on your damp skin and got tacky fast , much faster than you realised. You lay there, wheezing, while Rengoku fell onto his side and dropped his head next to yours. Sex hung heavy in the air.
“How was that?” His voice was nearly a whisper for once, right there in your ear.
“Nice,” you managed. “Really, really nice. But this stuff is…”
You felt pinned by the drying ejaculate and gestured as much. Rengoku huffed a laugh, reaching for a stray bit of cloth (you hoped it wasn’t the inn’s, but there was nothing else within range). He wiped himself off of you, hummed, and pulled you in for a good, old-fashioned spoon.
“It was an excellent experience for me as well. I’m thankful you trusted me, Ryoko.”
You hunched your head in. “Well. There’s no one else I’d, I’d trust. With my life.”
Rengoku dropped a kiss on your hair.
“This may be a tall ask, but would you care to accompany me back to headquarters tomorrow? I have already taken much of your time—,”
“Kyojuro. Of course I would. Didn’t I just say as much?”
He chuckled when you playfully slapped his forearm. “Very well then!”
“But you’re paying for food. I’m not having you eat me out of my salary.”
And when he laughed, full and warm, this time, you laughed with him.