AN: Some of you might recognize this next bit--I took it from a story I started but never continued, called Kaleidoscope Summer. I liked it, so I saved it, and resurrected it to use here. For those of you who were invested in KS, I'm truly sorry, but I was just spread too thin at that time, and KS was too dark for me to write. Anyway, this little bit of the movie is lifted from the prologue of KS:

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The wind rattled the glass in their panes as the raindrops pelted against them like bullets. The storm was gathering strength over the ocean before hurling itself against the Japanese coast. Inside the dark castle, the sound of her sobs could barely be heard over typhoon that was howling outside.

He grasped his fianceé Hana's wrists, and she dropped in front of him, her kimono soaked, her knees making a painful sound on the slate tile. Her head was bowed, neck and shoulders exposed, bottom tucked humbly under as she knelt in a posture of abject, apologetic surrender. Wispy hair fell forward, obscuring her face.

When he spoke, his voice was quiet with shock and disbelief.

"Are you saying--" he stopped and took a deep breath before beginning again. "Are you saying you'd rather stay here and possibly--die-- with him, that gaijin Eugene,  than come with me?"

She lifted her head so he could see her streaming brown eyes. She drew her brows together and nodded before lowering her head once more.

He slowly released her wrists, and she brought her hands to cover her face, continuing to sob.

A jagged, staccato stroke of lightning lit up the room, and a few seconds later, thunder boomed in the distance.

"Cut!"

The DP's voice rang out with authority over the sound of the rain, and the rain machine stopped as Hiro helped Sumire to stand  before releasing her wrists.

Murakami-sensei checked the playback, then called, "Print!" with authority, and Sumire thanked Hiro and stepped into the dry towel that an assistant was holding for her.

"Come on, let's get you out of this wet kimono," Miki, the assistant said, leading her to the women's costume room.

She needed no urging. They'd been filming with the rain machine for nearly five hours, and she was soaked through and freezing.

In the costume room, they checked the sheet and saw what she'd need next. It was all laid out and ready, so it was just a matter of getting her dried off and getting her hair and make up ready. They unwrapped her from the dripping kimono and put her in a fluffy robe that had just come out of the dryer, so it was nice and warm. She received it gratefully, as she did the socks that they put on her feet. Soon she was sipping hot tea as they went to work on her face and hair for the next scene.

While she was in the chair, Sumire checked her phone to see where Nick was. He'd spent the day outside on a horse, filming battle scenes, so she knew he wasn't faring much better physically.

She checked her phone and saw that it was after four o'clock. She knew they had one more scene to shoot, and that it wasn't complicated. She hoped that Nick's day was going well, and that they'd have some time together back at the ryokan that night. She felt like she hadn't seen him in days, and her heart cried out to be with him.

"Are you okay? Is Kondo anywhere near you?"

"No, I haven't seen him, and besides, there are people everywhere, what could he do?"

Just as she sent the text, however, the door opened, and Kondo-san himself poked his head in.

"Oh, excuse me, everyone," he said in his suave, too-smooth voice.

"Do you need something, Kondo-san?" one of the costumers asked, her voice cold. "This is the women's changing room, in case you weren't aware."

"Yes, I didn't realize when I opened the door," he said in his oily voice. His gaze lingered on Sumire in the make-up chair. She pulled her robe tighter at the throat and ignored him.

"See you on the set, Sumire-chan," he called as he shut the door.

She merely nodded at him in the mirror.

"Don't let him bother you," one of the make-up artists told her in Japanese. "He's just a dirty old man, he's been that way forever. Everyone knows he's like that, and no one's going to let him bother you, don't worry." She smiled reassuringly and nodded at Sumire.

Sumire nodded and released her robe.

"I'm fine," she assured the women. "I've been around old men like that before."

"Japan is full of men like that, unfortunately," the other make-up artist said. "Is America like that, too?" she asked.

Sumire nodded, biting her lips together. The make-up artist tapped her lips with the brush she was holding, and Sumire stopped biting so she could brush lipstick on them.

"Yes, there are men like that everywhere," she told the women.

"Too bad, isn't it?" the women commiserated. "We're old, it doesn't matter to  us so much anymore, but for cute young women like you, it must be such a bother." They made faces of sympathy and shook their heads at the injustice of it all.

Sumire found this conversation sad, but also kind of hilarious. Only in Japan would sexual harassment and assault be described with words like "dirty," "bother," and "too bad."

They got her dressed for her next scene, which was thankfully not taking place in the rain, and sent her on her way.

She went and flew through the scene, which took place with three other women in her bedroom, and was finished two hours later.

An hour after that, she was back in the suite she shared with Nick, and an hour after that, she was all tucked up, warm, dry, exhausted, and unfortunately alone, in her futon.

When Nick finally arrived, exhausted himself, not to mention freezing, he knew she'd be sleeping. He certainly didn't begrudge her the sleep, and though he was sad that he didn't get to talk to her at all, he smiled when he quietly opened the door to their suite and saw her slight form, curled up under her comforter.

He took a quick shower and lay down next to her, again, trying hard not to make any noise or movements that might awaken her. He went in facing her because he wanted to fall asleep looking at her face, even if her eyes were closed. It was the closest he'd be to her all day today, and possibly all day tomorrow, as well.

But he hadn't counted on how warm she was. Sumire's side of the bed (and therefore Sumire herself) was so fucking toasty. His side was like sheets made of ice.

But her side.

Her side was damned near hot. Plus it had the extra added attraction of Sumire herself being in it. Soft, warm, gentle, sleeping, irresistible.

Maybe he could just scoot in a little closer to her? If he were careful? Really careful?

He moved a little closer and froze when Sumire's eyes flew open.

Shit.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. He began to scoot back, but she reached a somnolent hand out and stopped him.

"No, no, it's fine," she murmured, pulling him close. "I tried to wait up for you, I did, but I was so tired."

"I know, I know, baby, and I'm so so sorry I woke you up, I really am," Nick repeated. "Fuck, I can't believe I woke you up."

"Nick, Nick," Sumire said, her voice nearly a whine. "I'm glad you woke me up, I am." She scooted into his arms, as close as she could, and kissed his neck, breathing warm air on it before and after. "But I'm too tired to make love. I want to, so much, but I can't even move, shit."

"God, Mimi-chan, you're so cute, I just can't stand it sometimes, you know?" he whispered, stroking her hair off her forehead. He leaned in and kissed her mouth, and she automatically opened her mouth to him, almost a conditioned response, asking for his tongue, licking with her own, arching her back and pressing herself into him.

"Mimi-chan, have you been drinking?" Nick asked in amused surprise.

"Maybe," she answered with the little smile that made him crazy. "But I'm too tired, Nick, too tired, too tired."

Her yukata had loosened as she moved, and Nick got a look at her body, at her slim curves, and she pulled her obi, untying it so he could see the rest of her. When he pulled it apart, he saw that she wasn't wearing any underwear, and that finished it for Nick.

"Oh, fuck me," he groaned, putting a hand on her hip, where it curved and blossomed to roundness. He kissed her, slowly moving down her front, kissing each breast, making each nipple turgid and hard, and hearing her moans, filled with yearning and want, was fast pushing him over the edge of control.

"Mimi-chan, maybe today would be a good day for some, uh, oral activities, what do you think?" he whispered, looking up at her face for a moment.

She looked down at him, sleepy eyes blinking with contentment. "Okay," she agreed with another small smile. She nodded to make her meaning clear. "Okay."

Halle-fucking-lujah.

He once again kissed her down her front, kissing her adorable belly button, her abdomen, and her hip bones, which protruded slightly where she began to curve. And now, even though he could tell she'd just showered, he finally caught the elusive female scent of her, the faint aroma of what made her a woman and who she was, Sumire and no other.

He could tell she'd never touched herself with a razor, but she didn't have much hair anyway, and her pubic area was blameless and pale, unmarked in any way.

Visions of Marcus, huge and hirsute, brutal and barbaric, menacing and monstrous, arose in his mind, and he banished those thoughts, trying to concentrate only the lovely woman in front of him. He was going to do this, and he was going to enjoy it.

Her slim thighs were beautiful in the moonlight, and she obligingly spread them, moving her head back and forth on the pillow as she plunged her hands into his still shower damp hair and dug her fingers into his scalp.

Yes.

He groaned his approval and kissed her in the groove where her legs met her body, reveling in the texture and taste of of her beautiful skin. He finished this action with a little nip of her tender flesh, which produced a moan from Sumire, a sound that made Nick want to remove his briefs immediately.

Sumire rolled her hips in his face, asking for more, and Nick bent his face to his task once more. He could see wetness shining on her sex, some of it even coming out to the ends of her pubic hair, nearly enough to drip off onto the bed.

Sumire had to be one of the wettest women he'd ever been with.

Nick's tongue snaked out to lick into her, his first taste of the woman he loved. Never had he waited so long to go down on a woman he was with. Sometimes oral sex even took the place of traditional sex, because Nick enjoyed it so much, and waiting with Sumire had been so difficult.

But so worth it.

The taste of her washed over his tongue, that first taste that redefined the relationship between a man and a woman forever, as far as Nick was concerned. Different women tasted different, depending on what they ate, how they cared for themselves, and simple body chemistry. Nick was also convinced that some women were simply vinegary and acidic because they were bitchy, plain and simple.

But not Sumire.

She was warm, tangy, briny, a soft and secret taste, a taste that he loved immediately, that he couldn't get enough of.

And the effect on Sumire herself was immediate and astonishing.

She made a sound like Nick had never heard before, and nearly bucked her body clean off the futon.

Holy shit.

He wrapped his arms around her legs to anchor her in place, and licked into her softness, harder this time, angling deeper into her wet folds. He held her firmly so she wouldn't hit him in the face or kick him with her feet, which had spasmed out of control.

"Oh my god, Nick," she cried out.

He nipped at her a little this time, and put his thumb on her, pressing in little circles, feeling her thigh muscles tense with each rotation.

Just feeling her responses was so exciting that he didn't know how long he could hold on. He was pressing his erection into the futon, trying to just put pressure on it without any friction, hoping that this would help him to hold on and hold out, but he wasn't sure how long he could.

Sumire was arching her body completely off the futon, resting her whole body weight only on her head and in Nick's arms, which were still wrapped around her head.

She kept murmuring his name as she rocked her pelvis into his mouth, and he couldn't get enough of her, the taste of her, the sight and sound of her, the feel of her in his arms.

Finally, after about fifteen minutes of this, she tensed up like a current of electricity was passing through her, and for a moment, Nick was worried that she was having some sort of seizure.

He had inserted two fingers and was pushing and pulling while still using his mouth, and he kept going until he felt her relax in his arms and under his tongue.

Then he slowly released her and lifted his head, making sure she was awake and breathing normally.

She looked up at him, nipples and lips enormous, pupils blown, cheeks red, eyes shining.

"Oh my fucking god," she murmured, lips barely moving.

She reached for him, and just feeling her cool fingers on his throbbing erection pushed Nick over.

He put his hand over hers and squeezed while pumping.

"I'm gonna come so hard," he groaned. "Oh, fuck, baby, I'm gonna blow all over you, I'm sorry--"

"It's okay, Nick, come on me, right here, okay?"

Sumire arched her back, so her pert breasts were pointed up at the ceiling, and Nick saw them and came all over her, spurting thick white ropes of warm fluid on her for long seconds as time stopped for him and he held his breath.

He fell on her when he was finally finished, breathing hard, heart going a mile a minute.

"Jesus."

"I know," Sumire agreed with a laugh.

"So you finally came?" he asked, looking at her face.

She was only able to nod.

He smiled and kissed her.

"I'm so happy," he said.

"I can tell," she teased.

"Shower?"

"Shower."

So they did, and then they came back to bed, and slept the sweetest sleep either of them had ever known.