After the sound of rustling.
Two warm bodies slid into the fluffy, soft down duvet.
The moment their skin touched, Sumire's whole body tensed up, and her breathing hitched for half a beat.
The sensation was too vivid, too stimulating.
Then, she was pulled into an embrace that smelled of red wine.
Makima didn't do anything excessive; she just lay on her side, extending her long arms to circle Sumire in her arms like a mother doting on her child.
Sumire's cheek was pressed tightly against Makima's soft chest, and in her ear was the steady and powerful sound of her heartbeat.
Thump, thump, thump.
It was an incredibly reassuring rhythm, perfectly in sync with Sumire's own frequency.
"My Master." Makima's chin rested gently on the top of Sumire's head, one hand slowly stroking down Sumire's snow-white back, over and over, with a certain intoxicating rhythm.
"Don't be nervous, please relax a little..."
"Mhm..."
Sumire's voice was muffled, carrying a hint of bashfulness.
Makima gave a light laugh and tightened her arms, pulling the little person in her embrace a bit closer.
"The wind and rain outside... as long as I am by your side, you don't need to worry about anything."
"Mhm..."
Sumire responded softly, feeling an unprecedented sense of peace.
Because she knew that Makima was doing exactly that.
Drowsiness gradually set in, and as Sumire drifted off, Makima's cool red lips lightly pressed against her forehead.
"I will block everything for you... so, give your all, completely to me."
"..."
"Mhm..."
zzzzzz
The next day.
The first ray of morning sunlight passed through the floor-to-ceiling window, spilling onto the messy deep gray sheets.
Sumire opened her eyes groggily, a faint cool fragrance still lingering at the tip of her nose.
The spot beside her was already empty; only a slight residual warmth proved that last night wasn't just a dream.
"Are you awake, Master?"
The bathroom door opened, and Makima had already changed into a sharp outfit.
Her signature white shirt was buttoned all the way to the top.
Black trousers accentuated her straight, long legs, and she wore a slim-fit long trench coat over them.
Even with such a simple professional outfit, she exuded an ascetic beauty that made people afraid to look directly at her.
She looks like a good woman at first glance.
Especially when thinking of the warm and soft sensation from last night... Sumire's face turned red. Luckily she was a girl now, otherwise her phantom limb would probably have pitched a small tent.
"Breakfast has been prepared; it's strawberry jam toast and coffee. Additionally..."
Makima walked to the dressing table, picked up a small contact lens case, and turned to look at Sumire with a hint of inquiry in her eyes: "According to the plan, I have to report to S.H.I.E.L.D. today."
"To avoid unnecessary trouble, do these eyes need to be covered?"
Makima pointed to her own eerie ringed eyes.
No matter how you looked at them, they didn't seem like a physiological structure a normal human could have.
Sumire nodded and sat up while rubbing her still somewhat sore waist.
"Yes, put them on. The light green pair suits you better; it'll make you look like you're of mixed race."
...An hour later, a black Chevrolet Suburban drove steadily on the highway leading to Washington, D.C.
In the driver's seat was Agent Sitwell.
In the back seat, Makima was admiring the scenery flying past the window together with Sumire back at the apartment.
At the same time, she was also calculating things regarding S.H.I.E.L.D.
Just before departing, Makima had Sitwell hand over a file marked "Top Secret" to S.H.I.E.L.D.
The contents of the file were simple.
The distribution of The Hand's strongholds in New York, and... the burial site of the Dragon Bone.
It sounded as if Sumire had gone crazy, handing over hard-won intelligence and treasure to S.H.I.E.L.D. on a silver platter, but this was actually an open scheme... their plan to Drive the tiger to swallow the wolf.
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