Paired With Fate

Chapter Four

"Livvie."

"Yes, Ichiro."

"I think they ought to fire the people who washed their uniforms."

Olivia frowned mid-clap and although she felt she might regret it, asked; "Why?"

Ichiro's nose wrinkled as he glanced over the men running onto the field.  "Because they've clearly shrunk in the wash!  Could their shirts be any tighter?"

Olivia laughed, openly as her eyes admired the broad and well defined pectorals that were nicely visible despite the material stretched across their chests.  "Are you jealous?" She asked, her eyes twinkling brightly. 

"What's there to be jealous of?" Ichiro scoffed, sounding slightly offended by her accusation.  "If I were to have such a thick chest, the target for my sparring partner would be so large that they'd never fail not to miss!  And the thickness of that one's thigh muscles, is about the same as Saburo's waist!"

"Well, they aren't girls," Olivia said, admiringly, "so I'm sure that your comments would not upset, but rather delight them, were they to hear them."

"Ah, so I now understand the real reason that you are into this sport," Ichiro teased as the very robust men ran to varying places upon the field.  "But just because they are well formed in terms of muscle, does not mean that they are well formed in every place."

Olivia rose an eyebrow and questioned; "Oh?" Her eyes could not help but flicker downwards towards that part of him that was much involved in her pleasure earlier.

He frowned and gave her an indignant expression; "I was speaking about up here!" He claimed tapping his temple with a finger, then smiled, in that cheeky, lopsided way.  "What did you think that I was speaking of?  You have such a dirty mind... ow!"

Rubbing his sore, just pinched thigh, his attention was caught by the whistle that started the game and he watched as the ball was tossed between large hands and the holder was tackled into the dirt.  Others jumped upon the fallen man, some appeared to be his own team mates and they only removed themselves from his body when the ball was grabbed by another player on their side.  Watching these few motions repeat themselves a few times, Ichiro wondered aloud; "Is there such a thing as women's rugby?"

Olivia frowned, but didn't glance his way as she responded; "Of course there is."

"Just wondering."

They didn't speak for a time and around them people clapped and cheered and booed, Ichiro joined in at first, but swiftly became bored.  "Why are we clapping?"

"Our team scored a try!"

"What's a try?"

"Well, it's when a player scores by getting the ball to the ground over the rear line."

"Oh."

The game began again and after a few moves, some burly players joined together in bent over fashion, their hands touching lightly the ground, but their knees not as the ball was tossed into the tightly packed bodies resembling segmented shell of a turtle.  This 'shell' moved about a bit, the two sides squirming together, pushing against each other in their fight.  "What are they doing?"

"That's called a scrum," Olivia explained, though decided not to explain in technical terms.  "They are fighting to get control of the ball." Was what she said, simply.

"Oh."

The entire game was due to last some eighty minutes with a break of less than ten squeezed into the middle.  At the forty minute mark, Ichiro was well and truly ready to leave, but of course, he could not do this and did not wish to join the 'scrum' for the toilets in this halftime period, thus he waited until the much of the crowd had retaking their seats before he got up to empty his bladder.  "Would you like something to eat or drink?" He asked Olivia politely as he made his way to the stairs.