Classified || Bucky Barnes

Chapter 29

August 28th, 2014

Mito, Japan

Japan was astonishingly different from anywhere Marina had ever been. And yet, standing in that darkened bar somehow felt so familiar to being back in the states. Maybe it was the alcohol tinged scent that filled the air or the blanket of mindless chatter.

The decoration was a bit different of course, with paper lanterns scattering the ceiling to shower the interior in red-dyed light. Lyricless music welded the voices of a foreign language into a blur of noise. 

Of the collection of languages Marina had become fluent in, Japanese was not one of them. She didn't mind though, because nobody so much as paid her a glimpse of attention as she plopped herself into a booth opposite of where Bucky had slid into place. She could see him silently assessing every conversation around them.

"Remind me again why we're here," she finally requested, leaning back into her seat to feign a mask of comfort. 

"To do something fun," Bucky answered simply. He didn't bother looking at her, just continued studying the room and its inhabitants.

"Why?" Marina pressed.

"Because this Torneau thing is killing you, so we're designating one night to forgetting about the bastard."

Marina's brows sunk and she pursed her lips. She should've guessed that he would take notice. Nothing got past him. Not the way she'd given up on trying to sleep and eat as normal. Not the way her nightmares had migrated to haunting her when she was awake.

"What fun can we have here?" She added after a pause. 

He waited to answer, twisting at the waist to call a waiter over. Then spoke to him in flawless Japanese. Marina resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Of course he knew Japanese.

It wasn't long before the man returned with a pair of clinking glasses filled with amber-tinted alcohol. Marina frowned and watched as he retreated back to the bar. Bucky smirked, sliding one of the beverages across the table until it bumped into her knuckles. 

"We drink." 

And so they did. 

A lot more than they probably should have.

The first few burned to the point where Marina wondered why some people were so into drinking. In the glasses that followed, she welcomed the flame licking down her throat. 

In all her 27 years, she'd never had much more than a beer or a glass of wine. She'd been fairly buzzed once, just before being shipped out to training shortly after joining the military. Before that, she'd always been too young to buy alcohol on her own. Really though, the desire to drink was never there. She used to think that made her odd, as did the rest of her high school classmates. Even in her teen years she steered clear of "the devil's brew," as her brother jokingly called it. 

Now she saw the appeal in it. Much like the club in Uruguay, watching the carelessness of the people dancing and laughing and radiating pure, blissful ignorance left her envious. She didn't much mind the idea of losing herself tonight. Even into a glass full of something she didn't know the name of. 

Bucky didn't seem to mind either. 

The rounds came one after another until it became somewhat of an agreed upon competition. No words needed to be exchanged, only challenging glares and quickly emptied glasses. There was no way she was going to lose to a hundred year old man.

Bucky grimaced as he clunked his newly emptied cup against the table. "This is ridiculous."

"Only because you're losing."