Where: On the way to the Femenias Energy HQ, London
When: 6th of July
Who: @oflightfeet
It had been a late night the previous night. But staying up to all hours of the night to catch companies in different timezones was nothing new for Ikki. Staying up to all hours of the night to work period was nothing new for Ikki. However, the heavy workload of important meetings that absolutely could not wait, meant Wren remotely assisting him would just not cut it. At least, not for Ikki’s extremely high standards. So, after promising Rafael that he would not be pulling any more late nights for at least the rest of the month ( a big ask, but he was confident he’d be able to do it ) he and Wren had pulled an all nighter in his home office. Coordinating a deal between four different continents was no small feat, and closing that deal was absolutely imperative for Femenias Energy’s bottom line for at least the rest of the financial year. Rafael, of course, not only understood, but was his typical charming self with the clients— something neither himself, nor Wren could really say was their strong suit.
By the next morning it was enough to say that the downright cheerful attitude in the car as they were headed to work that day was more than enough indication that the deal had been closed, and the meetings were a roaring success. Enough that Mr. Femenias decided to come into work that day to be briefed on everything going on, and celebrate the success a little bit.
So, they decided to carpool to the Headquarters together. Environmental consciousness was a bit of a cruel ironic joked between those at Femenias Energy, but it seemed inefficient to drive to work separately when he practically lived down the street now. Wren was already there, so it made sense.
Celebratory drinks were already passed between himself and his future father-in-law, they bounced between the three topics that seemed to be dominating Ikki’s life at the moment ( and most moments previously ). Business, Famine, and the wedding: “Malaysia did say they would be in touch with you later today to finalize things. I will have Wren set that up for you this afternoon.” “Nana, and I had a long discussion about future plans that might be interesting. We didn’t come up with any solid conclusions, but there were interesting ideas.” “We’ve been considering two weddings. One here, one in Japan— Wren, you’ve finished learning Japanese, right? It’s been months.” “Nothing has seemed out of the ordinary for the moment. But I hardly think that will last…” “Wren, get in contact with Mexico and set up a briefing.”
After a pause, Ikki turned his head to look over at Wren when they didn’t give their typical immediate response, “Wren? Are you paying attention?” He knew it had been a late night, but come on.
In theory, heated car seats are a wonderful invention. In practice, especially in sleep-deprived practice, they are quite damning. Wren is comfortable where they sit, pen in one hand, Moleskine notebook in another, the victory of the night before a nice push in their back. But they’re also comfortable, in a way where their sleepiness is kind of creeping up on them, and they have to wonder how Ikki is still upright. How he had the energy to talk business, Famine and weddings. They would prefer to use the car ride down to London to nap, in all truth, but in stead focus all their energy on appearing alive and excited in front of Rafael Snr as well as holding their thermos of coffee between their knees.
Little input comes from their corner of the car, except from little a rare “Will do”, “Noted,” and “Nana has been helping, I’m focused on business jargon and professional conversation in Japanese and I’m getting ahead, but I’ve not finished learning the entire language just yet.” because really, who learned a whole new language in seven months on top of a gang war, a murdered mentor and a forty-plus-hour-workweek? Not Wren Lightfoot, that was for sure.
They flip a page, slide their hand over the paper to make sure it’d stay in place, twirl their pen in their hand, and realise they haven’t given a confirming sound only when Ikki addresses them. “Yes. Sorry.” They give a quick look up, a nod, then return their gaze to the fresh page, jotting down something about a briefing with Mexico. “Contact the Mexico offices, noted.” They sit up a little straighter, readjust the thermos between their legs and spare a look at Rafael Snr. To be so close to their Horseman is always somewhat daunting, admittedly; Wren wonders if he can see all the doubts and thoughts of disloyalty swirling in their mind. Had Kitty and Rafael told him of their weakness, in the face of Cat + Mouse? Or did he just think them unassuming Angel and Ikki’s PA, still?
Their attention is returned to their notebook once they enter a tunnel, the light in the car growing from morning-blue to tunnel-light-yellow to ... nothing at all. Their first instinct is to rub at their eyes, but when they don’t see their hands move, there’s a soft, confused, “What?!” And then comes the dread, that always lingers around one corner of their mind. Wren’s eyes flick around, then look back, to the end of the tunnel where morning light still peeks through. “What’s going on?”