<div class="floatleft">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v252/HlySd/BunjiAvy_zpsrx4zqdxu.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Sagawa Bunji<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Streets of Tokyo --> Sake Garden --> Bunji's Apartment<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Everyone, Open<strong>Mentioned:</strong>U.N. liaison<br/><br/><hr/><hr/><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">Flash! Flash! Flash! Bunji dropped to his knees in the alley, hands posting out before him to keep his face from becoming buried in the street and heaved his guts. He didn’t know how he had managed to move so quickly, but he wasn’t quite used to the vertigo just yet. Spitting muck from his lips, he sat back on his legs and sighed heavily, feeling the thin sheet of perspiration on his face beginning to cool.<br/><br/>“Wha…what the hell has happened to me?” he rasped miserably before he raised his metallic hands before his eyes. Turning to sit on his rear for a moment, his arms draped over his knees, Bunji took a moment to breathe. He swallowed mouthfuls of oxygen to keep his insides down and wondered aloud, “How do I take this suit off?”<br/><br/>As though the gods above had heard him or who knows what, in a burst of green sparkles his armor vanished, leaving him in his suit and tie. Bunji patted his clothes in relief before he rested his hand against the brick wall and used it to rise to his feet. He was still feeling a little sick but that wasn’t about to stop him from going home. His bike was where he had left it and still in the same condition. He left it there temporarily to head back inside the restaurant to receive the briefcase the apparent U.N. liaison had given him. He still didn’t quite understand why she had been trying to bribe him earlier. His blue eyes rolled over the suitcase one last time before he sighed and stepped outside the restaurant. As he locked the place up, he didn’t know if his boss was ever going to return. The city had been shaken by the Zombie Apocalypse, and honestly…the only thing that was on his mind was getting home. Picking up his bike, he mounted it and headed home.<br/><br/><strong>Bunji’s Apartment</strong><br/><br/>Just as he pulled into the driveway, the apartment door opened and out ran Matsumi with tears in her eyes.<br/><br/>“Bunji!” she cried.<br/><br/>“Is everything all right over here?” the knight asked.<br/><br/>His mother threw her arms around him and cried into his shoulder. “I saw what happened on the news and I was so scared. Are you all right? The attack wasn’t anywhere near where you work was it?”<br/><br/>“The attack?” he questioned.<br/><br/>“The terrorist attack. They were dressed like zombies and wreaking havoc in the streets!”<br/><br/>Bunji blinked stupidly. Was that the U.N. covering it up? It probably wasn’t just them but the Japanese Defense Force. A zombie apocalypse sounded too absurd to be aired seriously on TV.<br/><br/>“I am fine. You shouldn’t stress,” he told her.<br/><br/>“How can I not when you don’t answer your phone?” she exclaimed.<br/><br/>He gave her an oblivious look before he fished a hand into his pocket to remove his phone. As soon as he flipped it open, he saw that the screen was flickering. Had his powers tampered with it? Matsumi wiped at her eyes with the bottom of her hand and sniffed.<br/><br/>“You need a new phone,” she noted and then noticed the belt buckle at his waist. His mother stepped back in shock.<br/><br/>Bunji saw the frightened look she was giving him and then peered down at his belt buckle.<br/><br/><em>Shit,</em> he thought. He forgot that he was wearing it. Holding out his hands (one was holding the briefcase), he was going to explain this to her carefully, “Wait, just give me a minute before you go jumping to conclusions.”<br/><br/>She began to shake her head as her eyes welled with tears.<br/><br/>“No one claimed the buckle. The owner never returned, but I found out that it actually belongs to me.”<br/><br/>“And how did you get it? You said you wouldn’t buy something like that? Bunji…what’s going on? Why have you been lying to me?”<br/><br/>“I’m not lying! I’ve only ever been honest with you.”<br/><br/>“What’s in the briefcase? You didn’t have that when you left.”<br/><br/>Bunji glanced at it and hesitated to explain. How was he going to explain that? He could barely explain the buckle. Resting a hand against his face, he was starting to get a headache from all the stress. He didn’t want to lie to her for he had just said that he wouldn’t.<br/><br/>“A strange woman gave it to me. She wanted me to do her a favor and I turned her down.”<br/><br/>“And she gave you that? What is that?”<br/><br/>Lowering his hand, Bunji muttered, “It’s money…”<br/><br/>Matsumi leaned forward a little for she swore she had heard him say money. “…What?”<br/><br/>Looking to his mother sadly, Bunji repeated a little louder, “It’s money.”<br/><br/>Matsumi paled. “H-How much?”<br/><br/>Resting the briefcase on the handlebars, he released the locks and opened it to show her the blanket of yen inside. Matsumi’s hand went to her mouth at the sight of it. <br/><br/>“You-you give that right back!” she exclaimed.<br/><br/>“I tried. She wouldn’t take it back. She said that I could have it.”<br/><br/>“Get rid of it!”<br/><br/>His brows shot upwards in shock. “But this will pay for your medical bills, and I won’t have to work so many hours. I can work a part-time and be here with you.”<br/><br/>Matsumi shook her head. “I don’t want money that you didn’t earn. It’s probably stolen.”<br/><br/>“It’s not stolen. She was with the U.N.!”<br/><br/>“What would the U.N. want with you?”<br/><br/>“I don’t know. As I said she wanted me to do a job and I refused. I really think that she was after this,” he explained resting his hand on his buckle. Back to the buckle…“This isn’t a normal buckle. It’s like a weapon or something. Maybe that woman has something to do with it—I don’t know. I’m trying to figure all of this out and it’s a work in progress. Please trust me, Matsumi…I only want to do what’s best for us. I’m not drinking; I didn’t steal anything; you know that. You know I gave all that up. Just please give me a chance…”<br/><br/>Matsumi could see that her son was just as stressed as she was. She didn’t exactly understand what was going on, but by how the entire situation was affecting him, she knew that he was trying his hardest. She walked over and took her son into her arms. Holding him tight as her tears dripped upon his hair, she said, “I am just so glad that you’re okay. I don’t know what’s going on, but I trust you. I trust that you will handle everything.”<br/><br/>“I promise,” he vowed.<br/><br/>Releasing him and wiping her tears from her eyes, Matsumi rested both of her hands upon his wrist and her bright, heart-melting smile had returned to her lips.<br/><br/>“Let’s get you inside. You must be tired.”<br/><br/>Bunji smiled and dismounted from his bike. Passing the briefcase into his other hand, he lifted his bike to carry it inside.<br/><br/>“Have you eaten?” he asked.<br/><br/>“I couldn’t. I was so worried about you.”<br/><br/>Stepping through the door, Matsumi closed the door behind her son as he carried his bike into the back.<br/><br/>“I’ll make us dinner.”<br/><br/><strong>Dinner</strong><br/><br/>Matsumi was slowly depositing grains of rice in her mouth over the clatter of chopsticks. She watched her son mesmerized by his sudden appetite. He had made more food than he had ever made for dinner. Did they have money for that? Well, she guessed they did now. He was cramming his cheeks full of white rice, egg, chicken, and beef. He had cooked several dishes more than she could eat. When he tried to consume a whole grilled fish, she lowered her rice bowl and cleared her throat.<br/><br/>“Ahem! Bun-kun,” she interjected.<br/><br/>Bunji froze with the fish’s tail hanging from his mouth.<br/><br/>Blushing softly, Matsumi noted, “Are you…well…did you eat today?”<br/><br/>“Noff sincff breaffass,” he stammered through the fish. The fish was then whittled down and absorbed like a paper into a paper shredder into his mouth. With a large audible gulp, Bunji grasped his cup of hot green tea and swallowed it down. <br/><br/>“Aah~” he gasped. “It’s strange. We had breakfast this morning and I feel as though I hadn’t eaten in days.”<br/><br/>They were eating at the kotatsu that evening. They ate at the western dining table in the morning and settled down for dinner at the traditional table in the evening.<br/><br/>“Just this morning? You don’t eat lunch?” she questioned.<br/><br/>Bunji gazed down at his empty rice bowl and answered, “Before today, we didn’t have the money to feed both of us.”<br/><br/>“Bunji! I don’t want you wasting away over me.”<br/><br/>“I’m not wasting away! (You’re the one wasting away)” Picking up his bowl, he opened the steamer to scoop him some more rice. “Besides that’s all in the past. Do you want some more rice?”<br/><br/>Matsumi quietly offered her bowl to him.<br/><br/>At dinner’s conclusion, Matsumi was staring wide-eyed at her son as he gulped down the last of the green tea. Slamming his cup down like a shot of sake, Bunji leaned back a little with a satisfied gasp. His mother inspected the table noticing that every bowl, dish, and kettle was clean and empty. Even the rice in the steamer was all gone. The knight’s cheeks inflated with gas before a long and heavy belch erupted from his lips. Gasping, Bunji was slowly sinking onto his back.<br/><br/>“I’m…I’m just going to take a nap,” he informed.<br/><br/>There was a thud of his back hitting the floor and then the knight was out cold. Matsumi pushed the blanket aside and stood to her feet, walking around the table to marvel the sight of her son as plump as a nikuman (meat bun). She picked a few rice grains from around his mouth and glanced at his work shirt, he looked about ready to pop a few buttons. Her eyes eventually went to the mysterious belt buckle glinting in the lamp light. Glancing at Bunji briefly, she grasped the buckle and unclasped it before sliding the belt from the rungs of his pants. It gave his belly more room to spread out as he sighed pleasantly in his sleep and muttered, <em>Kimochiii~</em>.”<br/><br/>Matsumi narrowed her eyes and gave her son a strange look before she held up the buckle. She didn’t find a brand name or inscription. She had every desire to throw the item in the trash, but then she remembered her son’s plea. Sighing softly, she wrapped the belt buckle neatly and set it on the table. Lowering to her knees, she then grabbed the blanket and draped it over her son. There was no way that she was going to attempt to move him. He was no longer the little boy that she had once carried in her arms. She remembered always putting him to bed when he would stay up late watching TV with her and his father. He had grown into a big man. Smiling at the small flashback she had, she gathered the dishware and placed it in the sink to be cleaned in the morning. Before she disappeared down the hall, she bade to her sleeping son, “<em>Oyasumi, Bun-kun.</em>”<br/><br/>Hitting the lights, she went off to bed.</span>