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karmas-chameleon · 23 hours

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A writing! This one is sort of a half-chapter in my regular fic, added in where I had space in the timeline. I have ideas for random shorts sometimes that are either too small to fit in the actual story, or just don't blend in well, so I figured I'd write them as a separate collection, sorta.

Anyway, here's Manfred when the power goes out.

The day after von Karma's trial and before my free dinner was entirely uneventful, from the morning to my lunch break. I spent the time before noon idling on my phone, which the prosecutor allowed, then ate lunch, which was likewise permitted. It was a good day, by my standards; I would've done the same things had I still worked in the basement with Todd. And I would've talked to him just as much as I talked to von Karma: not at all.

He was busy with his work, and I was ‘busy’ on my phone, and that seemed to suit us both fine. I only glanced his way occasionally to look out the window, and every time I did, he had his head down.

Then I had my lunch, and he left shortly after, presumably to get his own. When I heard the door open again, my eyes were trained on his window.

“Looks like rain,” I said.

The prosecutor grunted in the affirmative and returned to his seat, looking down at his desk. Behind him was a backdrop of dark clouds threatening a downpour. It wasn't an unfamiliar sight to me, though I hadn't ever seen such a thing from this particular viewpoint.

“You don't get a lot of storms in California, do you?” I asked.

“No. I suppose you're used to more turbulent weather?”

“Mm-hmm,” I nodded, staring out at the dim sky. “Lot of storms where I lived. Hurricanes too, and tornadoes.”

“I can see why you left.”

“Well, that's not- I mean, the weather is nicer here, I guess.”

Von Karma simply nodded in response, and I supposed the conversation had ended. I looked away from the sky and back to my phone, prepared to scroll the rest of the day away.

I'd managed to lose track of time when I heard the first rumble and looked up. It was quiet, and distant. And late in the day. I only had a little over an hour before I'd get to leave. Hoping that the storm wouldn't reach me before then, I looked back down and wished for a dry walk back to my car.

The sound of raindrops hitting the window came not long after. It didn't take much more time for them to get heavier and louder, and for the rumbling to return with a vengeance. I stared at the window longer then, and saw a flash light up the increasingly dark sky. I counted the seconds: one, two, three, four - and a rumble. I couldn't recall whatever math gave me the distance, but the volume of the thunder was enough to tell me it was close, and getting closer.

“Hey, uh, how long do storms usually last in California?” I asked, hoping then for a resolution quick enough to get me a dry walk.

“This won't be over before you leave, if that's what you're getting at,” von Karma said, eyes still on his work.

“...Ah. Well, um, thanks for the heads up.”

I thought back to my car - dry, and comfortable, and holding my umbrella in the backseat. And, unfortunately, far from the entrance of the building. I briefly considered bringing a second umbrella, just for the office, or perhaps actually looking at the weather forecast for the day before leaving my only hope in my car.

Another bright flash struck from the sky, lighting up the clouds in a single instant and vanishing. I began to count, but didn't even make it past one. Thunder boomed into the office at a deafening volume. The storm was upon us.

Then, the lights flickered. Off, then back on for a second, then off, then on, then darkness. The office was pitch black, with the only light coming in through the window - which barely illuminated anything, until another lightning strike lit up the room for a fraction of a second and left with a thunderclap.

I sat in silence, waiting for a moment to see if the power would return. It didn't. And von Karma sat as still as I did, a shadow staring at his desk with no light to work by.

“So…how long does the power usually take to come back on?” I asked.

Silence. I thought the prosecutor hadn't heard me, with the length of the pause between us. But his silhouette spoke, eventually.

“That isn't up to me,” he snapped. “I'm not responsible for the electricity in the courthouse, am I?”

“Oh, um, sorry,” I said quickly.

In my mind, however, I was growing more and more confused. The courthouse? Surely he hadn't forgotten where he was. Though even from his shadow, it seemed he was behaving oddly. He hadn't moved a muscle since the lights went out.

“...Miss Martin,” he said in a softer tone. “I realize you may not be familiar with this sort of situation. To answer your question, the power may take some time to return. If you'd like, you can leave now, with no penalty. I can't imagine you'd get much work done if you stayed.”

“O-oh. Okay. Thanks.” I stood from my desk and tried to gather my things in the dark, hoping I'd managed to find everything to shove into my backpack.

I slung my pack over my shoulder and headed to the door, flailing around for the handle. When I found it, I turned back to the prosecutor, and saw he still hadn't budged.

“Are you gonna leave too?” I asked. “You can't really work in the dark either.”

“I'll manage,” von Karma said simply.

“Um…okay. See you tomorrow, then.”

I exited the office and headed toward the elevator, before realizing it wouldn't help me while the power was off. I'd have to follow the emergency signs that lit up the hall on the way to the stairs, and then get thirteen floors of exercise down to the exit. I groaned internally, knowing that getting wet on the way to my car wouldn't be the worst part of the day.

As I made for my only exit, two things happened at nearly the exact same time: the door to von Karma's office opened, and the lights came back on. I smiled and turned back to the elevator, ready to skip half of my torment, when I saw the prosecutor and figured I'd take the trip with him.

“You going down too?” I asked, calling the elevator. “Or- I guess since the lights are back, you could still work. And…I guess I could too, technically.”

“I'm heading out. You're free to as well. Although-” he glared at the elevator door, “I would suggest using the stairs.”

“What?” I heard the ding of the elevator and watched the doors open, but hesitated and looked back. “Why? The power’s back on.”

“For now. But the storm is still raging outside, and you're on the thirteenth floor. There's no guarantee the power remains for your entire trip, and then what?”

I stared blankly. “Then…what?”

“Then you'll be dead.” He fixed me with an intense look as I heard the doors close behind me. “You're free to do as you wish, of course. I'll tell the coroner I warned you.”

“Um…I think I'll take the stairs, actually,” I said, turning somewhat reluctantly from the elevator and following von Karma down the hall.

As ridiculous as his warning sounded to me, there was a good reason to stay with him. He hadn't been acting himself at all - forgetting where he was, saying he'd stay to work and then immediately leaving - and this odd conversation just added to that. I wanted to stick by his side, if for no other reason than making sure he didn't trip and fall down the stairs in this state.

We opened the door to the stairwell and started our long journey. The prosecutor moved more slowly than I was used to, but I stayed with him, lagging just a couple steps behind. I counted down the floors at an agonizing pace. Twelve, eleven, ten, nine…

When we got to five, von Karma paused in the middle of the stairway. I nearly ran into him, but stopped myself just in time and waited for him to keep going. But he didn't. Instead I saw him rubbing at his shoulder with one hand as he held his cane in the other.

“Are you alright?” I asked.

“I'm fine,” he replied. It wasn't quite snapping, his voice didn't have the energy for that. The intent may have been there, but his body was too weary - whether that was from all the stairs or something in his shoulder, I didn't know.

“I haven't assisted you all day, you know. Aren't I supposed to be helping you with stuff?”

He turned to me with one of his grumpier expressions. “Very well, I have a great deal of pain in my arm. How exactly do you intend to fix it?”

“I could call the elevator for you. We're only five floors up right now, and the power's been on for a while. I think we'll be fine.”

“Hmph.”

The prosecutor continued to hobble down the stairs, but thankfully exited into the hall at the next opportunity. I rushed ahead and hit the button for the elevator, eager to get out of the building even if I exited into the pouring rain. When the doors opened, I went in and held them, just to make sure von Karma actually followed me in.

He did, and the journey to the bottom floor was quick and uneventful. With a satisfying ding, the doors opened once more, and we both exited and headed to the main doors. Unfortunately, I saw and heard the rain the moment I left the elevator, and it hadn't let up in the slightest.

I walked ahead of von Karma, no longer feeling the need to look after him. He probably had his chauffeur waiting for him just outside, and I wanted to get home as quickly as I could.

“You don't have an umbrella, do you, Miss Martin?” he called as I passed him.

“Nope.”

“I have one in my car, just up ahead.”

“Good for you,” I said as I opened the door and rushed into the downpour. It was just like him to brag about his own good fortune when I was stuck getting rained on.

Von Karma called after me with something else, possibly also involving umbrellas, but I couldn't hear him over the rain. I dashed off to my car as my clothes were drenched, trying to focus on the good things in my job.

I knew I had dinner to look forward to, and that was enough for the moment. I'd get a free meal, and meet my coworkers, and hopefully find someone I could get along with. Until then, I had only one more day of von Karma, and that, I could handle.

#Manfred von Karma #my writing #I'll add this to ao3 at some point

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karmas-chameleon · 2 days

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man with sword (that i still have to color)

#manfred von karma #if you make fun of his dorky fencing pose he will stab you

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karmas-chameleon · 2 days

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💗Pokemon Type Asks💗

🤎Normal Type🤎 : What do you and your F/O do on an average day?

🔥Fire Type🔥: Alright! Are you and your F/O competitive? What fires you both up?

🌊Water Type🌊: Beach Episode! What do your swimsuits look like? Do you both like to get in the water or just relaxing near it?

💐Grass Type💐: Achoo! Have you ever given each other flowers? If not, what kind would you want to give them? What type would they give you?

⚡Electric Type⚡: Zap! The power went out. Out of the two of you, who’s more prepared for the unexpected? Can you tell us a story about when that came in handy?

🕶️Dark Type🕶️: Who’s the bigger prankster between the two of you? What’s the best prank either of you have pulled?

🧊Ice Type🧊: Brr, it’s cold in here. Whats your favorite thing to do together when it’s chilly out? Do you want to snuggle up for warmth or brave the cold for snow time fun?

⚔️Fighting Type⚔️: Do you two ever argue? Who’s the first one to apologize?

🪶Flying Type🪶: What’s something that your F/O does that makes your heart soar? Something you do that makes their stomach fluttery?

☠️Poison Type☠️: What’s something one of you eats or drinks that the other can’t stand? How do you both react to it?

👻Ghost Type👻: Boo! Who’s the easiest to scare, you or your F/O? How do you think the two of you would fare in a haunted house?

🔮Psychic Type🔮: Look into your crystal ball and tell us what you think your future with your F/O looks like? Do you want to live together? Get married? Have the two of you ever talked about it?

🕸Bug Type🕸 : Ack! A spider! Quick, which one of you deals with it?

⛰️Ground Type⛰️: What about your F/O grounds you when you’re not feeling well? Do you help ground them?

🪨Rock Type🪨: If you had to pick a rock to give your F/O as a gift, what kind of rock would you pick? How does it remind you of them?

🐉Dragon Type🐉: What would your F/O secretly hoard? How would you find out about it?

🧚Fairy Type🧚: If you had to pick a fairy tale to describe your relationship, what one would you pick? Why?

💻Steel Type💻 : Who’s more likely to struggle with technology? How does the other help?

Bonus -

👤Shadow Type👤: If you and your F/O had your morality swapped, how do you think it’d go? (i.e. if you were heroes before, you’re villains now and vise versa)

#ooh #good questions

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karmas-chameleon · 2 days

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Me: I already drew one of Manfred's outfits from my fic, I should get around to drawing the next one he wears.

My brain: ok but what if. Manfred but he's got a sword cane

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karmas-chameleon · 2 days

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Me: I already drew one of Manfred's outfits from my fic, I should get around to drawing the next one he wears.

My brain: ok but what if. Manfred but he's got a sword cane

#i guess i know what I'm drawing this weekend #if my garbage drawing tablet allows it

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karmas-chameleon · 3 days

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Thank you ghost 🥺

Chapter 9 is done! Not gonna post the whole thing here, it's on Ao3 if anyone wants it, but here's the best part

My gaze fell to the ground along with some unnameable feeling in the pit of my stomach. Somehow, I hadn't been able to explain myself. He still didn't understand. My words, or my mind, weren't enough to express what I wanted to, and that was all it took to break the dam blocking off my swelling emotions, after I'd brushed aside every little crack that tried to warn me. I felt my body start to move against my will, my lips trembling and my eyes tearing up. The opportunity to talk my way through my experience was pulled from me as I sniffled loudly - no longer the functioning adult I'd worked so hard to put together, but the pathetic child that I feared would be seen.

I felt an arm wrap around me, heard something hit the pavement, and another arm pulled me close. Not an hour ago, in nearly the same position, I was incapable of speech. After a date full of overwhelming emotions, I could only sob.

“It's alright,” Manfred said softly. “It's alright.”

He held me tight, rocking gently, shushing me, and whispering comfort. I could understand his words, up to a point, and when his voice changed to a sing-song cadence, I realized he'd stopped speaking English. Still my tears flowed, and my breath hitched in my throat as I tried in vain to control myself, weeping and sniffling beneath the words of a German lullaby.

My tears eventually had to run out, though it felt like they'd keep going forever. And whatever dripped from my nose eventually stopped coming out as well, but it seemed my body might actually have a limitless supply of that. It covered my nostrils, then lips, then chin, and I didn't want to look at where it fell next. On any other day, getting snot on Manfred's clothing would've been the worst of my worries. But I had far bigger problems to take on.

I sat up straight, pulling away but still staring down at the ground. I saw a handkerchief enter the corner of my vision, and took it. An attempt was made to clean up my face, though I knew from experience that just wiping my nose did very little. I'd seen this same face in mirrors before, at school, at home, at my old job. The bloodshot eyes, the red, swollen skin - it was a face I wished for nobody to witness, not even me, and especially not others.

“I'm…sorry,” I whispered. My voice came out thin and trembling, and far less confident than I'd hoped. It was almost enough to make me start crying again.

“There's no need to apologize.” Manfred lay his hand over mine, squeezing gently as I held onto his snot-filled handkerchief. “There never was.”

“I-it's just-” I sniffled, “a lot. Everything is.”

“Hmm?”

“When…whenever I touch you, it's- it makes me feel a lot of…stuff. And when we talk, and when I look at you, and everything- and it's just,” I wiped at my eyes, “...too much, sometimes.”

“You’re overwhelmed. Overstimulated.”

“Uh-huh,” I nodded.

“Is there anything you need? If there's any way I can help, I will.”

“I just need…time, I think.” I slumped against Manfred's shoulder and closed my eyes, finally capable of taking a deep breath.

I focused on the sounds around me. The birds chirping in the trees and the wind whistling through the branches calmed me, while the sound of nearby human activity made me worry about just how many people may have passed by in the middle of my meltdown. And it still wasn't over, not quite. I could feel myself cooling off, but I wouldn't be back to normal until I got to my apartment, turned off all the lights, and took a long nap. Even then, ‘normal’ would still be painfully relative - my normal, but not the normal. Such a quality was out of my reach.

“I'm glad you told me,” Manfred said quietly, “even if you may not feel the same way. I realize it must've taken a good deal of courage.”

I nodded wordlessly into his shoulder.

“And it reminds me how I should treat you.”

My heart sank. This was the beginning - the pity, the babying, the ‘you poor thing’ looks that I'd dreaded.

“With politesse, and chivalry, as a gentleman ought to. Taking things slowly, and always requesting permission rather than assuming. And no more messing around trying to fluster you, as amusing as it may be.”

I felt him squeeze my hand again, and sighed with relief. “Thank you…Manfred.”

“Of course, Miss Martin.”

#lol i dunno what makes this happen #tumblr bein weird i guess

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karmas-chameleon · 3 days

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Chapter 9 is done! Not gonna post the whole thing here, it's on Ao3 if anyone wants it, but here's the best part

“It's alright,” Manfred said softly. “It's alright.”

“I'm…sorry,” I whispered. My voice came out thin and trembling, and far less confident than I'd hoped. It was almost enough to make me start crying again.

“There's no need to apologize.” Manfred lay his hand over mine, squeezing gently as I held onto his snot-filled handkerchief. “There never was.”

“I-it's just-” I sniffled, “a lot. Everything is.”

“Hmm?”

“When…whenever I touch you, it's- it makes me feel a lot of…stuff. And when we talk, and when I look at you, and everything- and it's just,” I wiped at my eyes, “...too much, sometimes.”

“You’re overwhelmed. Overstimulated.”

“Uh-huh,” I nodded.

“Is there anything you need? If there's any way I can help, I will.”

“I just need…time, I think.” I slumped against Manfred's shoulder and closed my eyes, finally capable of taking a deep breath.

“I'm glad you told me,” Manfred said quietly, “even if you may not feel the same way. I realize it must've taken a good deal of courage.”

I nodded wordlessly into his shoulder.

“And it reminds me how I should treat you.”

My heart sank. This was the beginning - the pity, the babying, the ‘you poor thing’ looks that I'd dreaded.

I felt him squeeze my hand again, and sighed with relief. “Thank you…Manfred.”

“Of course, Miss Martin.”

#Manfred von karma having dad instincts when he sees my s/i crying is everything to me lmao

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karmas-chameleon · 4 days

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Random (nsft) headcanon below the cut

I've got a handful of headcanons for my version of Manfred that I might put a list together for someday, but one of the ones I was thinking of right now is a rare not-safe-for-tumblr (ish) headcanon.

I imagine he has erectile dysfunction - not just because he's old (...maybe partly because he's old) but also because it fits really well with my self shipping thing

Some of my headcanons are just me obviously looking for ways to make my fave more like me, and this actually goes in that category. I have vaginismus, and I just like the idea of both of us having something sorta similar to deal with. Like-

Manfred 🫱 having a stigmatized condition that makes sex difficult or impossible 🫲 my S/I

...I was too lazy to make my own meme, but you get the idea lol. It makes me happy thinking of us both sharing an experience we can try to help each other through.

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karmas-chameleon · 4 days

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I couldn't "fix" him but goddamn it I could make him happier and feel like life is worth living

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karmas-chameleon · 6 days

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Sleepy. Might make a homemade charm for myself of this.

#awww #bapy

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karmas-chameleon · 6 days

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Chapter 8!

It is done

The week passed me by surprisingly quickly. I got von Karma’s computer up and running on Monday, but no sooner had the thing turned on than I was given a suggestion to relocate it. The prosecutor had the idea that I could handle his emails and various other computer-related tasks, giving me some work to do in my official capacity as assistant. I eagerly agreed, and moved everything to my own desk.

My additional duties didn't take too much effort, but I was glad to have something to keep me busy for a small portion of the day. With that, and chatting about little things with von Karma when he wasn't occupied with his own work, Friday came and went before I knew it.

I spent Saturday trying to plan out a date in the park, but didn't have much success. My first idea was bringing a kite to fly, but that required obtaining both a kite and the knowledge of how to fly one. I tried to think about what sort of things von Karma would enjoy - which quickly nixed my next idea of going out to buy picnic supplies. My imagination just wasn't strong enough to picture the prosecutor sitting on a blanket in the grass, eating whatever snacks I could scrounge from my cabinets or the nearest supermarket.

When Sunday afternoon came, I ended up heading to the park with a mostly empty backpack holding only sunscreen and two bottles of water. It was close enough for me to walk there, and the brief journey also helped me make sure I was wearing suitable clothes. A skirt and one of my nicer T-shirts seemed perfect for the summer weather. Provided the date didn't extend into the night like my first visit to the park, I'd remain comfortable.

I stopped at the park entrance, and checked my watch. Just over five minutes early. At least with a date so close to my house, it was difficult to get lost.

I was prepared to wait at least five minutes, but just after I checked the time, I saw a familiar car pull up. Out stepped Manfred von Karma, dressed more appropriately for the heat than last time - in a white button-down shirt with its sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and tan slacks. A small leather bag slung across his shoulder completed the look, along with his usual cane. I couldn't help but smile at him in his new outfit. Even when he was dressed more casually, he still looked stylish.

“Good afternoon, Miss Martin,” he said, smiling back at me.

“Afternoon, Mr- er, um-” I stumbled over my words, unsure of exactly how to greet a man who was both my boss and date.

“I think you've earned the right to use my first name by now, hmm?”

“R-right, uh. Manfred.” I let out a nervous laugh. It felt different, calling him by that name. I liked it.

“Shall we?”

He motioned toward the path leading into the park, and we both set off. Already, I sensed the difference between this visit and my last. From the outskirts of the park I could hear the noise of activity, and just a few steps further I saw the cause. In a wide open field, a couple played with their dog, while on the other side of the path a game of soccer was underway. Even the birds seemed to chirp louder, as though they were having fun too. It was a pleasant Sunday, and neither work nor a horrible crime scene was stopping these people from enjoying it.

I supposed that some of them felt more at ease because of the guilty verdict von Karma won in court. I knew it made me feel better. As the trees grew thicker down the path and we neared the center of the park, I was only slightly afraid that I'd see bloodstains on the pavement.

There were none, of course. Not a single trace remained of the macabre scene that once lay under the trees. Only leaves and shadows covered the ground there, the buzz of police activity replaced by wind whistling through the branches and the faint sounds of people at play.

“Rather more peaceful now, isn't it?” von Karma remarked.

“Yeah. Um, thanks for that, by the way.”

“Of course.” He gave me a warm smile, and looked over to a nearby bench. “Why don't we rest here for a moment?”

I nodded and followed him there, sitting to his left and setting my backpack beside me as he did the same with his bag and cane. I reached over and got a water bottle out, opening it and offering it to von Karma.

“I brought you some water again. Hope you're thirsty, ‘cause that's about all I've got in here. That and sunscreen, if you need any.”

“Thank you.” He accepted the bottle, took a drink, and handed it back to me. “And I appreciate the offer, but I don't believe I'll require any sunscreen.”

“Did you already put some on at home?”

“No, but I don't-”

I didn't let him finish his sentence before reaching back to my bag and exchanging the bottle of water in my hand for a bottle of lotion.

“You should really use some,” I said, offering it over to a bemused von Karma.

“We're in the shade.”

“Well, right now, yes. But it's a sunny day out. We still have to make the walk out of the park, right? That's five minutes in direct sunlight at least, but if we go to the other end of the park and back, that'll be-”

“I highly doubt I'll burn that quickly.”

“It's not about sunburn,” I insisted, still holding out my sunscreen. “You can still get hurt by the sun without seeing it on your skin. And I don't want you getting hurt.”

He took the bottle from me and looked away, grunting something like ‘thank you’, and started applying the lotion. Fortunately, most of his body was covered by his clothes, so he only had his forearms, neck, and face to work on. I sipped my own water then, slightly worried that I'd bothered him and interrupted the flow of a good date. But I wasn't lying when I said I didn't want him to be hurt by the sun.

After a minute or two, von Karma handed the sunscreen back to me. “Is that sufficient?” he asked.

I looked at him, frowned, and tapped a spot on my cheek mirroring the streak of white I saw on his face. “You've got a little, uh…”

I shook my head as he reached for the wrong cheek. “Other side.” And again, when he almost touched the right spot, but not quite.

“There,” von Karma said, his expression returned to his typical grumpiness after wiping away half of the smudge.

“Um…there's still just a little-” I mumbled, and wanting to avoid another round of ‘hot and cold’, simply reached over and rubbed in the sunscreen myself. “Here you go. Perfect.”

I saw his eyes widen just as I leaned back, and immediately felt flustered. “Uh, s-sorry. Didn't mean to, um-”

“Don't apologize, Miss Martin,” von Karma smiled. “I simply wasn't expecting you to do such a thing. Doesn't seem quite like the shy woman I dined with before.”

“Oh, w-well, I mean-” I stammered, feeling exactly like I did on that night. “It helps that I knew this was coming, I guess. Had time to plan and stuff. Although I didn't really plan a lot. Drinking water under some trees doesn't make much of a date.”

“What makes a date is the company, I believe. Although, if you'd like to have something more material, I can provide.”

He reached over beside him, into the bag he'd brought, and pulled out a small wooden box which he placed on his lap. The top was decorated with a logo of a flower and some text whose language I could only make an educated guess at. I knew the state had a significant Japanese-speaking population, though I didn't have much experience with them - or with any other part of the population, for that matter.

Von Karma lifted the lid, revealing an array of small flowers. At least, I'd thought they were flowers, until I looked closer and noticed the tiniest of differences between what I saw and an actual blossom. But for a nearly imperceptible change in the way light bounced off the petals, they were perfect replicas.

“Wagashi, I believe they're called,” he said. “Beautiful, aren't they? And fresh. I picked them up just before coming here.”

He raised the box toward me, and I carefully plucked one of the flowers from it. I felt soft in my hand, and even more so in my mouth, as I chewed into it with more than a little sadness over destroying something so beautiful. But I enjoyed the taste just as much - a sweet flavor, but only mildly so, that was more refreshing than most powerfully sugary western desserts. I finished it in a few tiny bites, licked my lips, and smiled.

“That was really good. Where'd you get this stuff?” I asked.

“Just a few miles from here. Not far at all, and not terribly expensive either.” He looked down at the wagashi, then back to me, and seemed to reconsider. “There are shops which sell an even cheaper variety, if you're interested. I can't vouch for the artistic quality of those, though.”

“Mmm,” I nodded, with another flower in my mouth.

“It’s quite fortunate to live near such shops, you know. Many of these sweets have a rather short shelf life, so shipping them is troublesome. You need to enjoy them while they last. Quite like real flowers, aren't they?”

“Mmm-hm,” I nodded vigorously, chewing on my third. After swallowing and noticing I was close to halfway through the box, I looked back at von Karma. “Do you want some of these? Sorry, I don't want to eat all your stuff.”

“I would like some. Unfortunately,” he raised a hand still slightly shiny with lotion, “both my hands seem to be covered in sunscreen, and I'd rather not have traces of it in my food.”

“Oh. Um. Oops.” I glanced away, about to suggest wiping his hand on his pants like I would in such a situation, but thankfully thought better of it. “I could pick them up for you, if you want.”

I looked back to see von Karma considering my proposal, staring down at my hands with pursed lips, and eventually nodding. “That could work, I suppose.”

I picked a flower from the box and lifted it halfway to his head. I paused then, unsure of what to do. I had offered to pick up the food for von Karma, but then what? He couldn't just take it from my hand with his own. That would defeat the purpose of me picking it up for him. So I stared down at my hand, my thoughts temporarily ground to a halt.

I then saw von Karma reach for my hand and cup his own around it, pulling it gently toward him, until he could eat from it. He took a bite, his own hand’s steadiness the only thing that kept mine from trembling. And a second, taking the rest of the wagashi and brushing his lips against my fingertips. Then he let go.

“Thank you, Miss Martin.”

“Uh, y-you want another one?” I asked, already reaching into the box.

He smiled. “If you wouldn't mind.”

I raised his second flower up toward him, a bit higher than the first, but not quite to his lips. I wasn't that brave, not yet. And I wanted to feel his hand around mine, guiding me to him.

It was a feeling as sweet as the wagashi itself. Sweeter, even, more like a western dessert. Powerful, overwhelming, and certainly addictive. I savored each second of contact, going back for another and another until I was stopped.

“There's only one left. Are you sure you don't want it?” von Karma asked.

I looked down at the beautiful petals in my hand. It was the last flower remaining of the lot. I did regret one thing - not taking a picture of all of them when I had the chance - but I didn't regret giving this one up. The memory would last longer than any flower, edible or otherwise.

“You can have it,” I said with a smile, and lifted my hand to his lips.

I managed to get it close enough not to require guidance, but he still touched my hand as he took his second bite. I thought it was meant to steady me, as my hands had a slight tremor to them even on a regular day. But he still held on after the wagashi was all gone.

“Generous as ever,” he said softly, adjusting my hand with his. He raised it up slightly and kissed just below my knuckles - gentle and light, only brushing against my skin with his lips. But as he let go, I still felt my heart flutter and my brain shut down.

“I- wha- …huh?” I managed to babble.

“If Friday was your first date, I assume that would be your first kiss?” Manfred smirked as I nodded wordlessly. “I don't intend to fluster you quite so much, you know. But you do make it rather easy. Here, why don't you just relax and wait for your mental faculties to return?”

He wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer. For any normal person, in any normal couple, it would've been a comforting gesture - a man holding his partner to calm them. But for me, a person whose face had the power to turn red from a single glance, it was precisely the opposite. If my problem was being overwhelmed by emotion, being pulled into a hug wasn't going to help matters. But Manfred knew that, of course. The old bastard knew exactly what he was doing.

“I've often found it amusing to watch defense attorneys stumble over their words in the courtroom. To see their faces red with anger, as they make fools of themselves before the world. It's nice to see, certainly, but this,” he squeezed my shoulder gently, “is far better. After all, I don't believe those attorneys were enjoying it.”

I leaned into him. Into his body, his warmth, his smoky cologne. I couldn't move away if I tried, though I wasn't sure if I was simply unable, or also unwilling. He was comforting and electrifying, relaxing and anxiety inducing, and even though my mind and heart were racing, I couldn't say he was wrong. I was enjoying every second of it.

I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself. I'd take a deep breath, and try to push away any distracting thoughts. How am I going to tell my parents about this? That could wait. Another deep breath, and another thought forced itself into my mind. My muscles are way too tense. He can tell I'm not used to this.

I pulled away from him. He offered little resistance, and I leaned back against the bench, letting my head hang limp. “Someday, I'm…I'm gonna be able to do that without my head feeling like it'll explode,” I muttered.

“It's alright. A bit of awkwardness is perfectly normal for someone with as little experience as yourself.”

“...Yeah,” I said weakly. Though ‘a bit of awkwardness’ felt like a huge understatement, and ‘perfectly normal’ didn't feel like it applied to me in any situation.

“Rest awhile. We can finish our walk whenever you're ready.”

I heard the sound of the wagashi box closing and being put away. Letting out a sigh, I tried to focus onto my surroundings, grounding myself by looking back to the trees. It was still shady and cool in the little clearing, as the leaves above me danced in the breeze.

I sat up straight and took my water bottle from my backpack, getting a quick sip before tucking it back in my bag and zipping it closed. Slinging it over my shoulders, I stood from the bench and turned back.

“Ready to go,” I said with a renewed, somewhat more confident smile.

I watched Manfred stand with the aid of his cane, wondering if I should offer to help, but not getting the chance to act before he stood beside me. He gestured for me to set off, and we both headed down the path leading to the opposite end of the park.

Back under the sun, I had a clearer view of what I'd missed the last time I visited. The rest of the park was about as big as the first half, although large portions of it were taken up by a little pond and a play area, with ducks to the left of me and children to the right. I realized a potential problem with such an arrangement not long after I left the shade, and saw a kid run out of the playground to chase down what appeared to be a terrified duck.

“I think I like the other side of the park better,” I said. “Much quieter.”

“Did you say something? I can only hear quacking and screaming.”

“Um, nevermind.”

“Pardon?”

I simply shook my head, and we made our way to the edge of the park as quickly as we could. There wasn't much more to see at the end of the path, just another entrance that looked similar to the one we used, and a little area for parking beyond that. The only thing of any note was an oddly dressed man walking by, seemingly with no regard for either weather or basic fashion sense.

I must've stared a half-second too long, as he turned toward us. I averted my eyes then, but it was too late.

“Manny!” the man in orange shouted, making me feel a bit of relief. Whoever it was, they recognized Manfred, not me. Any conversation that resulted from this was officially not my fault.

I heard a groan beside me. “He’s seen us. Turn around, quickly, we might still escape.”

I doubted the efficacy of that idea, considering the man was already halfway to us when I glanced back up. Despite the slightly wild gray hair, he had considerable speed. I didn't get the chance to even look the other way before he reached us.

“Manny!” he exclaimed again, with a clap of his hands. “Good to see you!”

“Hello, Damon,” Manfred grumbled, slowly turning around to face him.

“This a friend of yours?” I asked.

“No.”

“Of course! Why, Manny and I have worked together for years. Decades, even!” He grinned at Manfred, then turned his rosy glasses toward me. “Now, where are my manners? I haven't even introduced myself. Damon Gant, District Chief of Police of this lovely city of angels,” he extended a gloved hand for me, “at your service.”

“Well, it's nice to meet you.” I took his hand and felt his firm handshake. He didn't let go immediately, which I supposed was some sort of indication that I should introduce myself. I gave my name, then stumbled slightly on my own title. “I'm Ma- er, Mr. von Karma’s assistant.”

“Is that so?” Gant said, still holding my hand hostage in his vicelike grip. His eyes bored into me as he remained silent, and I couldn't meet his stare for long. Eventually, I glanced down at the ground, and eventually, he let me go.

“Well,” he clapped, “here I thought you were taking the day off, Manny.” I looked up to see Manfred glaring at Gant, who looked cheerful as ever. “But if you're at the park with your assistant, you must be working. That's only logical, wouldn't you say?”

Manfred remained silent, and Gant turned to me. I quickly nodded, not wanting a repeat of his previous staredown.

“Uh, y-yeah, that makes sense,” I said.

“Jolly! Well, it has been nice meeting you. Unfortunately, I do have business of my own to attend to. But Manny, I must say, congratulations,” he turned to him with a wink, “...on the new work outfit. Looks lovely.”

Gant let out a boisterous laugh, turned around, and jogged off nearly as quickly as he'd arrived. It took me a moment to realize exactly what I'd done, and the consequences of what I'd said.

“He…he knows we're…?” I trailed off, looking at a grumpy Manfred.

“Yes.”

“And…I just told him I'm your assistant.”

“Yes. But he would've found out regardless of what you said. He has his ways of getting information about people.”

“Right. Because he's the chief of police. And now the chief of police knows we're…” I groaned at the pavement.

“He's not going to make any trouble for us because of this, if that's what you're concerned about. Damon isn't the type. He'll just hold onto it, and wave it over my head to annoy me, like he does with his little nicknames.”

“He has other nicknames?”

Manfred scoffed. “The man's practically incapable of calling a person by their real name. I can't tell you how many times I've told him to stop calling me ‘Manny’ at work, it's downright disrespectful, really.”

“Well, there goes my idea for a pet name,” I said with a teasing grin.

“Believe me, there's a world of difference between him calling me that and you doing the same.” He met my grin with a smirk. “I think I might enjoy it, coming from you.”

“O-oh. Well.” I swallowed, trying to push down all my anxiety so I could do what I wanted. What my mind and body cried out for me to do.

I took his hand, and drew closer. “Um, M-Manny,” I mumbled, trying valiantly to shorten the distance between us, “I…uh…”

I couldn't manage it, not on my own. But Manfred took his hand from mine and placed it on my shoulder, pulling us together. I wrapped my arms around him. Though a hug wasn't exactly what I was aiming for, I could happily settle for one.

“I was right, you know,” he said softly. “I enjoy your little pet name quite a bit.”

Then he gave me just what I wanted, pressing a kiss to my forehead and holding me close for a moment longer before letting go. He smiled at me, despite my awkwardness, and inexperience, and difficulty with doing even the most simple things that I wanted to do - all those flaws seemed like nothing to him.

“Have I rendered you speechless again, Miss Martin?”

I simply nodded, and followed him back down the path into the park. But we didn't go far before I reached for his hand again, and held onto it as we walked.

#my writing #manfred von karma

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