Chapter 7: Pin

“I still can’t believe you’re going shirtless in this kind of weather.”

Jaune paused, a bag of compost slung over his shoulder and sweat dripping down into the small of his back. His breath furled away from him as visible columns of steam, captured in high fidelity by the cool winter air.

He’d been hauling gardening supplies around the grounds for the better part of two hours now. Waruda may have made their base in an old abandoned school, but Yuki was adamant that it should at no point fall into disrepair. The difference between a thug and a villain was class, and the easiest way to get it was to keep your surroundings beautiful. Even in winter, they planted the old gardens with hardy plants that thrived in the cold, some of which Jaune recognised from the old, dusty roadways near his hometown.

“It was much colder in my home country than it ever gets here,” he sniffed, and regretted it immediately. Sniffing in the immediate proximity of a bag of compost was never a great idea. “This is nothing. I’m even working up a sweat.”

The cat’s grin widened by just a whisker. “Yeah, yeah. But at a certain point, you’re just showing off, ain’t ya?”

In contrast to his shirtlessness, she was wearing a thick, heavy overcoat. Designer, probably, or even tailor made – not that he was any expert on that kind of thing. Her hair, which she kept almost boyishly short in summer, had grown so long and fluffy that it could almost be called a mane. (She’d shed horribly when warmer weather came around, he was sure. All cats did.)

“If I’m putting on a show, I don’t hear the audience complaining,” he grumbled.

They’d been playing an odd game of chicken for about half an hour now – he’d feel her gaze on his muscles, but when he went to look, she always seemed to be staring in a completely different direction. He knew she was looking at him. And she knew he knew. But he couldn’t catch her at it, and she was taking advantage of that to mess with him.

Sadly, she was also too smart to rise to his provocation, and let the comment sail by her with an air of absolute nonchalance. He sighed, and rubbed his forehead with his free hand.

“Where do you want this putting?”

“Just lean it up against the wall,” she said, gesturing with a dismissive flick of the wrist.

“Alright, boss,” he said, with only a hair too much sarcasm. He knelt down with a grunt, heaved the sack onto the floor, and stood back up, rolling his shoulders to reduce the chances of them aching later. He turned around, and –

Yuki’s hand thudded against the wall, only an inch to the left of his head.

She’d been standing a good five feet away, but she’d pounced, closing the distance in the blink of an eye. She was looking at him with half-lidded eyes, something fierce and predatory hidden beneath them; by the time he had registered it, she had him pinned against the wall, one arm either side of his shoulders.

“Say that again.” Her voice was quiet. Serious. Exultant. “Go on. Say it.”

“Say what?”

She licked her lips as she looked down at him; never before had he been so aware of how tall she was. It was only a few extra inches, nothing compared to what he’d experienced with QP and Aru, but she wore it so much better than they did. QP and Aru had treated their sudden growth as a horrible accident, an embarrassing mishap. But Yuki took those few extra inches and made them powerful.

Her voice was a low contralto, husky and compelling with an edge of something dangerous. “Say it again. ‘Yes, Boss’. I want to hear it.”

He swallowed hard, and grit his teeth. True, she had him pinned. True, she was bigger than he was. And true, she was technically his boss. But he was a trained soldier, and he refused to let himself be cowed by an overbearing opponent. “That some kind of kink for you, is it? Or just a power trip?”

“Maybe a little,” she purred – the furthest thing from an admission of guilt he’d ever witnessed. “But it’s not about just about power.”

He thought to himself that, no matter what she was about to say, the word ‘just’ was doing a lot of heavy lifting in that statement.

“It’s about respect. It’s about loyalty. Think about it,” she said, her grin curling even wider. “We’re Waruda. We hate authority. Mimyuu, Tomato, Kiriko… the reason they’re all here is because they can’t stand to take orders. Except,” she carried on smugly, “from me. They won’t listen to anybody else, no matter how important or official they are. But when I say jump, they start jumping. Because I’m their Boss, and I look after them. Plain and simple. That’s what I want from you, Jaune. So say it for me. ‘Yes, Boss’. That’s what I want.”

“Not sure I’m ready for that level of commitment,” he replied, careful not to break eye contact. If you broke eye contact, you’d lost. “But you are my employer, so… I’ll see what I can do, Boss.”

“Mmmm. Just like I thought. Somehow, it sounds better coming from a guy.” At last, she lifted her arm to let him free. “I don’t mind a little bit of rebelliousness, either. But don’t kid yourself. If I wanted to, I’d have you by the balls within a week.”

“You’d have to get in line,” he replied, uncomfortably. He still hadn’t quite worked out the dynamics of what was going on between himself, Aru and QP, but neither had they. It was all chaos, from start to finish.

“What, you think I’m going to quietly wait my turn? Just because the pudding dog and that dumb bunny got to you first?” she asked. “I’m Waruda. If I want something, I take it.”

“Is that a fact?”

“It is. Now go and clean yourself off, soldier boy. You smell of fertiliser.” She grinned. “You can leave your shirt off when you’re done. Boss’s orders.”

He found his usual well of retorts running dry, and instead decided to walk it off. She was still staring at him as he walked away – but this time, she didn’t bother to hide it.