Sakura Dreams 🌸 🇯🇵 🗼Jules Kounde (1/6)
SYNOPSIS: It was supposed to be a guys trip to Japan after a disappointing ending to Euros, however, fate had another thing in mind.
PAIRINGS: Jules Koundé x fem!blackOC (Ayo Pratt) (faceclaim joie.ade)
WARNINGS: cursing, poor google translations, football b.s & drama, flirty!jules, eventual smut. MINORS DNI!!!
TAGLIST: @hopefulromantic1 @lettersofgold @sinflowersugar @mauvecherie-writes @queenshikongo3 @perfecttrashface @alika-4466 @cocobutterqwueen @peyiswriting @that-90s-girllll @leilaxaliel @serpenttines-library @certifiedlesbianbaddie @niahxo @julescpu @jack0357 @chaoticcoffeequeen @greedyjudge2 @yeea-nah @saturnville @taytropicana @trentswrld @cranberryjulce @vile-harlot @2serenity0
A/N: Jules is in Japan, so of course I had to make a short series about it. Also, if you're a Jules girl, please let me know and I'll tag you in more chapters.
The humid air of Tokyo hit Jules like a wall as he stepped off the plane, his muscles aching from the 13-hour flight. Narita International Airport buzzed with activity, a cacophony of announcements in Japanese and English filling the air. Jules popped a cherry dum dum in his mouth, the sweet flavor a small comfort as he trudged alongside his friends Wilhelm, AK, and his half-brother Nicholas towards baggage claim, navigating through the sea of travelers.
"Yo, ce décalage horaire n'est pas une blague (Yo, this jet lag is no joke)," Nicholas grumbled, rubbing his eyes.
"C’est vrai (Facts)," Wilhelm agreed, stifling a yawn.
As they collected their luggage and made their way to the hotel shuttle, Jules couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement beneath the exhaustion. This trip was meant to be a distraction, a way to shake off the disappointment of the Euros and clear his head before the upcoming season with FC Barcelona.
The thought of training camp loomed in the back of his mind. Jules silently prayed for an injury-free season, where he could continue to prove himself and silence the doubters. But for now, he pushed those worries aside. It was time to live in the moment.
The shuttle wound its way through Tokyo's neon-lit streets, skyscrapers towering above them. Jules pressed his forehead against the cool window, watching as businessmen in crisp suits hurried past izakayas and pachinko parlors. The city was a mesmerizing blend of tradition and modernity, and Jules found himself eager to explore.
"Tu penses qu'on aura le temps de visiter les temples? (Do you think we'll have time to visit the temples?)," AK asked, his eyes wide as he took in the city.
"Bien sûr (Of course)," Jules replied. "Nous avons deux semaines (We have two weeks)."
Their hotel, a gleaming high-rise in the trendy Shibuya district, loomed before them. The lobby was a vision of minimalist luxury, all sleek lines and soft lighting. As they approached the check-in counter, dragging their suitcases behind them, Jules's attention was immediately captured by a group of women ahead of them in line.
"Merde (Fuck)," he muttered under his breath, the dum dum stick moving to the corner of his mouth.
There were four of them, all stunning in their own right. But one, in particular, caught his eye. She was fine as hell, with curves that reminded him of Pam Grier in her prime, and her skin was a deep, rich cocoa. Jules's eyes traveled up to her full, pouty lips, currently curved in laughter at something her friend had said. She wore her natural hair in two perfect puffs, giving her this effortless 90s vibe that he found irresistible.
Once the girls finished checking in, Jules couldn't help but notice the others as well. One rocked long braids that cascaded down her back, another sported a short curly style with faded sides that highlighted her cheekbones, and the third had a blonde weave that caught the light as she moved.
"Ce sont tous fraîches (They're all baddies)," AK whispered, nudging Jules.
Jules nodded, his eyes still fixed on the girl with the puffs. There was something about her, an energy that drew him in. As the group of women headed towards the elevators, she turned, and their eyes met. She flashed him a bright smile that made his heart skip a beat, just as the elevator doors closed.
"Jules!" Wilhelm's voice snapped him out of his trance.
"Hein? Quoi? (Huh? What?)"
Wilhelm rolled his eyes. "Ton passeport, mec. La réceptionniste en a besoin (Your passport, man. The receptionist needs it)."
"Ah, oui, bien sûr (Oh, yeah, of course)." Jules fumbled for his passport, his mind still on the mystery girl's smile.
They checked in, and Jules couldn't shake the feeling that this trip might turn out to be more interesting than he'd anticipated.
"On est à quel étage? (What floor are we on?)" Wilhelm asked as they headed to the elevators.
"Le quinzième (Fifteenth)," Nicholas replied, studying the key cards.
As the elevator doors closed, Jules found himself hoping he'd run into the girl with the puffs again. Tokyo was a big city, but stranger things had happened. With a grin, he chewed on the dum dum in his mouth. This vacation was already looking up.
Ayo stepped into the luxurious suite, her eyes widening as she took in the panoramic view of Tokyo's skyline through floor-to-ceiling windows. The city sprawled before them, a mesmerizing tapestry of lights against the darkening sky.
"Damn, this is bougie as hell!" Nikki exclaimed, her long braids swinging as she spun around the spacious living area.
Gigi ran her hand through her blonde weave as she glanced at the sleek furniture. "One Management really hooked us up."
"They better have," Nikki chimed in. "Our girl's about to take over the modeling world."
Ayo smiled modestly, still processing the whirlwind of the past few months. She had recently signed with One Management, a top-tier agency with offices across Europe, Asia, and the US. This trip to Tokyo was a gift from her friends and newest management team, a last hurrah before she moved from New York to London to further her blossoming career.
Symone, sporting a chic short hairstyle with faded sides, squeezed her shoulder. "After that Savage X Fenty show? Girl, the world is your oyster."
Ayo's recent success modeling for Rihanna's lingerie line had catapulted her into a new echelon of the fashion world. It was surreal, exciting, and more than a little terrifying.
"This trip is exactly what I needed before the big move," Ayo said, gratitude welling up in her chest as she looked at her friends. "Thank you guys, seriously."
Symone then made a beeline for the mini-bar. "Girls, we need to celebrate! Shots?"
Ayo chuckled, shaking her head. "Sy, it's barely 6 PM, and we're exhausted from the flight."
"Come on, just one!" Symone pleaded, already pulling out a bottle of Johnny Walker.
Gigi yawned dramatically. "Count me out. I need a nap before dinner."
"Same here," Nikki agreed. "What's the plan for food anyway?"
They quickly decided to eat at the hotel restaurant for their first night, too tired to venture out into the city just yet.
As Gigi and Nikki retreated to their rooms, Ayo found herself drawn back to the window. Her mind wandered to the cute guy with dreads she'd spotted in the lobby. There was something about him…
"Earth to Ayo!" Symone's voice snapped her out of her reverie. "Shot time, bitch!"
Ayo laughed, accepting the glass. "That's my girl," Symone grinned, sticking out her tongue.
They clinked glasses and downed the whiskey, the burn a welcome distraction from Ayo's jet lag. As they settled onto the plush couch, Symone's eyes welled up unexpectedly.
"Who would've thought four girls from Jersey would end up in Tokyo?" she mused, her voice thick with emotion.
Ayo nudged her playfully. "You say that every trip, SySy."
"Because it's true!" Symone insisted, pouring another round. "I'm just… I'm gonna miss you, you know?"
"Oh, SySy," Ayo crooned, wrapping her friend in a tight hug. "I'm gonna miss you too."
Symone sniffled, trying to lighten the mood. "You just had to go to boring-ass London, huh? Old 'God save the King' ass…"
Ayo rolled her eyes affectionately, well-versed in Symone's habit of using humor to deflect her true feelings. They chatted for a while longer, reminiscing about their journey from New Jersey to this moment.
Eventually, Symone yawned. "Alright, I need a power nap before dinner. Don't let me sleep too long!"
As Symone disappeared into her room, Ayo's phone buzzed. She sighed heavily when she saw the name: Jamaal. Her ex, who never seemed to get the hint. Without reading it, she deleted the text.
"Leave the past in the past," she murmured, taking one last shot. It was time to focus on her future – London, One Management, and all the possibilities that lay ahead.
With that thought, Ayo made her way to her bedroom. She barely registered the decor before collapsing face-first onto the plush bed, letting the exhaustion of travel and the warmth of whiskey lull her into a much-needed nap.
A couple of hours later, the girls emerged from their rooms, dressed for dinner at the hotel's restaurant. Ayo wore a sleek black slip dress that hugged her curves, paired with strappy heels. Symone rocked a vibrant yellow pantsuit that complemented her short, faded hairstyle. Gigi opted for a flowy floral maxi dress, her blonde weave styled in loose waves. Nikki chose a chic off-shoulder jumpsuit, her braids swept into an elegant updo.
As they approached the restaurant, they paused to admire its exterior. The design seamlessly blended modern aesthetics with traditional Japanese elements, creating an inviting atmosphere.
"We need a group selfie!" Symone declared excitedly.
Being the tallest, Ayo extended her arm to take the photos. They huddled together, striking poses and laughing. After a few attempts, they scrutinized the results, each finding something to critique.
"Let's try one more," Gigi suggested.
As Ayo prepared to take another shot, a slightly deep voice with a heavy accent called out, "Would you like me to take the photo instead?"
The girls turned towards the voice, and Ayo's breath caught in her throat. It was the guy from the lobby earlier. He was even more striking up close. His dreads were neatly styled, and he wore a Versace button-down with a few buttons undone, revealing a glimpse of his chest and a gold Cuban link chain. His feet were adorned with stylish huaraches. The scent of his cologne wafted over, a intoxicating mix of citrus and wood.
"Damn, he fine as fuck," Symone muttered, not quite under her breath.
The corners of his mouth quirked up, clearly having heard Symone's not-so-discreet comment.
"Sure," Ayo said softly, handing him her phone.
He instructed the girls on how to pose, squatting down to capture different angles. Ayo couldn't help but notice his friends behind him - all different shades of brown, with fresh haircuts and equally stylish outfits.
After taking several photos, he handed the phone back to Ayo with a smile. The girls crowded around, nodding in approval at the results.
"Are they good?" he asked.
"Yes, thank you," Ayo replied, trying to keep her voice steady.
He nodded and rejoined his friends, heading into the restaurant.
"Ooh! He was feeling you," Gigi drawled, fanning herself. "That is a man, Savannah!"
The others laughed in agreement.
"Girl, you neva lied!" Symone concurred. "He a sexy little croissant, huh?" she teased in a fake French accent.
Ayo shook her head, laughing despite herself.
"And he had them eyes for you, Ayo," Nikki added.
"What? No, he didn't," Ayo protested.
"Yes, he did," her friends chorused as they entered the restaurant.
They spotted the guys waiting on a bench as Ayo approached the maître d' to check in.
"Good evening, how many in your party?" the maître d' asked politely.
"Four, please," Ayo replied.
The maître d' checked the reservation list and frowned slightly. "I'm afraid there's a bit of a wait. We have a group of four ahead of you, and it will be about an hour and a half before we can seat you."
Ayo's eyes widened in shock. "An hour and a half?" she repeated, her voice rising slightly.
She turned back to her friends, who were waiting expectantly.
"Girls, we've got a problem," Ayo said, rejoining the group. "They're saying it's going to be a 90-minute wait."
"What?" Symone exclaimed. "Are you serious?"
Gigi groaned. "I'm starving already. I can't wait that long."
Nikki shook her head in disbelief. "There's got to be another option, right?"
One of the guys from the other group - dark-skinned with a faded curly high-top and also sporting a French accent - approached them. "Would you like to get a table together?" he offered.
"Sure!" Symone replied, perhaps too eagerly.
The guy then went over to the maître d'. "Excuse me, do you have a table for eight available?"
The maître d' checked his list and nodded. "Yes, we do. Would you like to be seated now?"
"Oui," he replied with a smile.
The maître d' gathered menus and gestured for the group to follow. "Right this way, please."
As they walked, one of the guys – the one with dreads who had taken their photo – motioned to the girls. "After you, madames," he said with a slight bow and a charming smile.
The girls exchanged excited glances as they followed the maître d', with the guys trailing behind.
"Here we are," the maître d' announced, stopping at a large, circular table. "Your server will be with you shortly. Enjoy your meal."
As they settled into their seats, Ayo found herself next to the dreaded Adonis. Her heart skipped a beat as she caught another whiff of his intoxicating cologne.
"I hope you don't mind us crashing your dinner," he said softly, his accent making the words sound like music.
Ayo smiled, trying to keep her composure. "Not at all. Thanks for the save."
As the rest of the group got comfortable, Ayo silently prayed that her friends – especially Symone – wouldn't embarrass her too much during dinner. But judging by the mischievous glint in Symone's eye from across the table, Ayo knew she was in for an interesting evening.
The group settled in, perusing their menus in comfortable silence. After a few moments, the guy with the faded curly high-top, spoke up.
"Maybe we should introduce ourselves properly. I'm AK," he said with a warm smile.
The tawny-toned guy with the tapered 'fro nodded. "Wilhelm."
"Nicholas," added the dark-skinned guy with the lowcut fade.
"And I'm Jules," said the cutie with the dreads next to Ayo.
The girls followed suit, each introducing themselves in turn.
As they finished, a waiter approached. "Good evening. May I take your drink order?"
Symone piped up immediately. "We'll have sake for the table, please!"
Half the girls groaned in unison. Nikki shot Symone a look. "Girl, are you trying to get us all fucked up?"
Symone pointed to herself innocently, while Gigi gave her a knowing look. The guys chuckled, exchanging comments in French.
Nikki glanced at each of them. "Hey, hey, none of that oui oui stuff, alright? English only."
Nicholas put up his hands in mock defense. "Damn, baby girl, we don't want no smoke."
Nikki gave him a flirtatious smile in response, and Ayo stared at Gigi in a silent plea to watch her cousin. Nikki was known for being a bit... frisky. If Symone was the loudmouth of the group, Nikki was the self-proclaimed "hoe" - and they meant that with all due respect.
The waiter continued taking orders. Jules requested a rum and coke, his accent making Ayo shiver slightly. She ordered a vodka, lime, and soda water.
Ayo felt Jules' arm rest at the back of her seat, his fingers lightly touching the exposed skin of her neck. "Is this okay?" he asked softly.
"Y-yeah, sure," she managed to reply.
As they waited for their drinks, the conversation flowed. The guys asked what brought the girls to Tokyo, and they explained Ayo's modeling career and celebrating her recent signing to a new management agency.
"Savage X Fenty? That's impressive," Wilhelm said. "Did you meet Rihanna?"
Ayo nodded. "Yeah, I met the whole fam, including A$AP Rocky and their two little ones. The kids are adorable, and Rihanna's really nice."
Nikki chimed in, "Rihanna even follows Ayo on Insta."
The guys' eyebrows raised in admiration.
Symone turned the question back on them. "What about you guys? What brings you to Tokyo?"
The men exchanged glances before AK answered, "It's a guys' trip before work makes us all busy again." They seemed reluctant to elaborate, and the girls didn't push further.
The waiter returned with their drinks, including a large bottle of sake. With practiced precision, he began the traditional sake pouring ceremony. He held the tokkuri (sake bottle) with both hands, turning it slightly as he poured into each person's ochoko (small sake cup). The liquid flowed smoothly, filling each cup precisely to the brim without spilling a drop.
As the waiter finished pouring, he took their food orders. They chose a mix of family-style dishes to share and individual entrees. Ayo ordered the miso-glazed black cod, while Jules opted for the wagyu beef teppanyaki. The table also agreed on an assortment of sushi rolls, tempura, and a large bowl of ramen to share.
Jules' arm tightened around the back of Ayo's seat, and he leaned closer to her. Symone caught Ayo's eye from across the table, mouthing "Get it!" with a suggestive waggle of her eyebrows. Ayo immediately shook her head, inwardly reminding herself that the last thing she needed was to end up with a guy on this trip. That was more Nikki's style, and besides, even though they were sharing a meal, these guys were still strangers.
The waiter approached their table once more, arms laden with steaming dishes. "Pardon me, your meals are ready."
He began setting down the plates, announcing each dish as he placed them on the table. "Miso-glazed black cod for the lady, wagyu beef teppanyaki for the gentleman. And here are your shared dishes: assorted sushi rolls, tempura, and a large bowl of ramen."
The group's eyes widened at the sight and aroma of the food. "This looks amazing," Ayo breathed, picking up her chopsticks.
They began to dig in and the conversation turned to their plans for the next couple of weeks.
Nicholas swallowed a bite of sushi before speaking. "So, what's on your itinerary while you're here?"
Symone counted off on her fingers. "Well, we're doing Tokyo for a few days, then Kyoto, and finishing up in Osaka."
"No way," Nicholas replied, his eyebrows raised. "That's pretty much exactly what we're doing too."
Gigi's eyes lit up. "We should totally link up again! Since we're headed to the same places and all."
Wilhelm nodded enthusiastically, pausing from his tempura. "That's not a bad idea at all. What do you guys think?"
"I'm down," AK chimed in. "It'd be cool to explore with some new friends."
Jules smiled, his eyes lingering on Ayo. "Sounds good to me. I'd like to get to know you all a bit better." As he spoke, his tongue darted out to lick his top lip seductively.
Ayo felt her cheeks warm, and she quickly took a sip of her drink to hide her reaction. "Yeah, that could be fun," she managed to say, trying to keep her voice steady.
Suddenly, a buzz in Ayo's lap made her jump slightly. She glanced down at her phone to see a text in their group chat from Symone: "BIIIIIITTTTTTTCCCCCCCCHHHHHH!"
Another message quickly followed from Nikki: "Jules wants to eat you up like a creme brulee. Give that nigga a bite, sis! 😉"
Ayo shook her head, choosing not to reply to the thread. Her mind was racing. She knew she shouldn't do anything with Jules, but the way he occasionally caressed her skin, his intense stares, and those full lips he kept licking were seriously testing her resolve. She reminded herself that the least of her worries should be surrounding men; she needed to focus on her move to London and securing her bag.
As they continued eating, the conversation flowed easily, punctuated by laughter and casual flirtation. Jules and Ayo found themselves engrossed in their own private conversation.
"So, London, huh?" Jules murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "That's quite a change from New York."
Ayo nodded, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down her spine. "Yeah, it's a big move. But it's an amazing opportunity for my career."
"I'm sure you'll take London by storm," he said, his fingers tracing light patterns on her shoulder. "They won't know what hit them."
Ayo laughed softly, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks. "We'll see about that. What about you? What do you do?"
Jules hesitated for a moment before answering. "I'm in sports."
"Oh?" Ayo raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What kind?"
A small smile played on his lips. "Football."
Ayo's eyes widened slightly. She might not follow European football closely, but even she knew that was a big deal. "Wow, that's impressive."
There was still a bit of mystery beyond his answer, but Ayo still found herself increasingly drawn to Jules. His charm was undeniable, and the way he looked at her made her feel like the only person in the room, but a small voice in the back of her mind kept reminding her of her goals, her impending move, and the complications that could arise from a vacation fling. However, she couldn't help but wonder what might happen if she allowed herself to give in to the temptation sitting right next to her. Jesus knows that it's been too long since she was physical with a man, and her rose toy needed a break.
Fuck me.
This was going to be a long ass two weeks.
After dinner, Jules settled the bill and the group hailed a taxi to head to a nearby club. This wasn't just any taxi—it was one of those karaoke taxis, complete with neon lights and a vibrant interior. The seats were plush, covered in shiny, colorful fabric that reflected the pulsating lights. Microphones hung from the ceiling, ready for an impromptu performance, and small screens displayed lyrics. Jules and Ayo squeezed into the very back seat, their bodies pressed close in the tight space.
Gigi and Symone began belting out Muni Long's "Made for Me," their off-key voices filling the cab.
"Twin… where have you been? Nobody loves me like you do…"
Nikki groaned, "I didn't come to Tokyo for this sad shit. Driver, can you play something else?"
The driver responded in broken English, "You like Megan Thee Stallion?"
A chorus of enthusiastic "Hell yes!" and "Yeah!" erupted from the girls. The driver grinned and switched the music, blasting Megan Thee Stallion's latest hits. Symone and Gigi immediately started twerking, teasing the guys to turn up. The guys laughed, hyping them up and taking their phones out to record the antics. Jules shook his head in mock disappointment, but his eyes were full of amusement.
When they finally made it to the club, AK tipped the driver generously before Jules covered their entrance fee. Inside, pulsing lights and thumping bass greeted them. They secured a small booth, and a server quickly approached to take their drink orders. Jules ordered a round for the table.
Jules found himself having a great time, but his attention kept drifting to Ayo. He loved the way her name felt on his tongue, and he couldn't help but admire how stunning she looked. The flirting at dinner had left him wanting more, her scent and their brief touches lingering in his mind.
Taking a big swig of his drink, Jules leaned closer to Ayo. "Are you having fun?" he asked.
She nodded with a smile. "Yeah, I am."
"You seem like the quieter one in your group. Am I right?"Ayo nodded again, and Jules chuckled. "Same here with my friends. Don't worry, I'll do the talking for both of us."
Ayo giggled at that, and Jules felt a warmth spread through his chest at the sound. He winked at her, enjoying their growing connection and the easy rapport between them.
The music shifted from the heavy bass of a hip-hop song to the smooth, infectious rhythm of Afrobeats. Jules inclined his head towards the semi-filled dance floor. "Do you want to dance with me?"
"Huh?" Ayo said, surprised.
"Dance? With me?" Jules repeated.
Ayo hesitated. "No."
"Please?" he pleaded, giving her a puppy dog look. "Here, take a shot to take the edge off," he said, pouring her a shot.
Ayo accepted the shot tentatively, then shrugged and downed it quickly. She grimaced as the alcohol burned its way down, and Jules chuckled lightly. "C'mon, ma belle," he coaxed, leading her to the dance floor.
"C'est parti, Jules! (Here we go, Jules!)" Nicholas commented, patting Jules on the back as he led Ayo to the middle of the dance floor. Jules gestured with his finger for her to turn around. Ayo did as instructed, feeling Jules's front flush against her back, his hips moving into a slow wine, tempting her to do the same with her hips.
"Fuck," he murmured in her ear, his whiskey-scented breath teasing her and making her arousal grow. "You're so sexy, Ayo."
Ayo smiled as his hands on her waist tightened and his hips ground harder against her, allowing her to feel his hardened dick at the crack of her ass. Jules inwardly hissed at the friction, taking a deep inhale of her scent as they moved to the beat.
He was hard beyond measure, his length straining against the confines and his pant's zipper and all he yearned for was to be buried to the hilt inside of her. After tonight, Jules knew it would be hard not to want her. He affirmed to himself that a little vacation fling was exactly what he needed before the season started.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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Je ne sais pas pourquoi mes fics Star Wars s'écrivent autant avec des flashbacks, ce n'est pas un truc dont j'ai l'habitude, mais avec ce fandom ça vient naturellement.
Le début du projet Springbreak, aka la romance-qui-aurait-dû-être-épistolaire, aka la fic où Anakin vit une chanson de Fall Out Boy écrite en 2008 et Obi-Wan une ballade d'été mélancolique :
Deux ans après la fin de la guerre, le Haut Conseil perdit la tête et décréta que tous les chevaliers Jedi ayant été adoubés après le début du conflit devraient effectuer l'année de missions en toute indépendance dont ils avaient été privés. Les talents acquis durant la guerre avaient été, eh bien, guerriers, et il était temps de se remémorer l'origine de leur Mission, qui était pacifiste, et de nombreuses planètes avaient besoin de l'intervention d'ambassadeurs neutres.
Anakin trouva cette décision raisonnable, jusqu'à ce qu'il réalise qu'il était également concerné.
-- C'est une blague ? demanda-t-il à Obi-Wan lorsqu'il reçut son premier ordre, une mission pour bébé Jedi dont le nez produirait encore du lait si on appuyait dessus. Je pourrais effectuer cette mission les mains attachées dans le dos et un bâillon sur la bouche.
Même en tant que mission diplomatique, c'était du niveau zéro. Anakin avait été formé par Obi-Wan Kenobi. Ce n'était pas parce qu'il manquait plus vite de patience qu'il était incapable de régler en cinq minutes ce cas de mariage arrangé.
— Parfait, répondit Obi-Wan avec un sourcil haussé. Elle n'en sera réglée que plus vite. Anakin, dit-il plus fort lorsque ce dernier allait insister. Toi plus que n'importe quel autre chevalier mérite cette année de liberté. Tu es l'un des très, très rares à avoir passé la guerre au côté de ton maître plutôt que d'avoir été déployé ailleurs.
Il lui sourit avec une excuse dans le regard.
— Ça te fera beaucoup de bien de pouvoir agir sans que je sois toujours sur ton dos.
Oh non, songea Anakin en réalisant soudain ce que cette histoire ridicule signifiait vraiment.
On voulait le séparer d’Obi-Wan.
***
Anakin savait, objectivement, que le Conseil n'aurait pas créé un décret influençant plus de mille cinq cents Jedi juste pour le séparer d'Obi-Wan. Il n'était pas égocentrique à ce point. Et ayant comparé sa mission à celle de plusieurs de ses compagnons de galère, il savait qu'il n'était pas le seul à être traité comme s'il sortait tout juste de la Crèche.
Mais. Il était Anakin Skywalker. Le Héros Sans Peur. Le pourfendeur de Dark Tyranus et Dark Sidious.
C'était complètement ridicule !
Aussi, après quelque jours à râler sombrement avec d'autres vétérans infantilisés, il demanda à voir le Conseil qui le reçut avec une rapidité louche. Clairement, ils s'étaient attendu à ce qu'il proteste.
Mais ils ne s'étaient certainement pas attendus à ce qu'il allait leur sortir.
Tout le monde, tout le monde oubliait qu'il avait été formé par Obi-Wan. Même Obi-Wan.
— Dans sa grande sagesse...
Même pas une pointe de sarcasme dans sa voix, il espérait vraiment qu'Obi-Wan était fier.
-- ...Le Conseil a décidé que les Jedi ayant été privés d'une année de missions en toute indépendance devraient l'effectuer, à dater du premier du mois prochain. Toutefois...
S'ils croyaient qu'il ne voyait pas leur sourire en coin...
— Ils ne sont pas les seuls à avoir été privé de cette expérience nécessaire à tout Jedi. Le chevalier Koestar, la chevalière An'ki, Maître Ost...
Il continua la liste des quatorze noms qu'il avait dénichés dans la base de données de l'Ordre après trois nuits blanches et une quantité de caf à en empoisonner un wookie. Et enfin...
— La chevalière Aïmetyo et... Maître Kenobi.
Et il le savait mieux que personne, il en était la raison. Obi-Wan l'avait pris comme padawan immédiatement et n'était jamais passé par cette étape initiatique.
-- Anakin, soupira l’interpellé en se pinçant le nez.
Le reste du Conseil le regardait avec une stupéfaction non dissimulée. Il les avait coincés, et ils le savaient. S'il y avait non pas un, mais plusieurs précédents, il n'y avait pas de raison qu'il ne puisse y avoir d'autres exceptions. Et Anakin avait toutes ses chances d'en être une.
— Une excellente remarque, déclara Maître Yoda à la surprise générale, y compris celle d'Anakin.
Il ne s'était pas attendu à ce que le Grand Maître soit le premier à céder, et si vite.
— En délibérer, le Conseil doit. À Maître Windu, la liste, remets.
Dérouté, Anakin s'exécuta, soutenant le regard exaspéré du Maître de l'Ordre.
Il sortit de la salle du Conseil avec un léger sentiment de malaise, le mit sur le compte de l'irritation d'Obi-Wan et se promit de l'inviter à dîner pour se faire pardonner, même s’il n'aurait pas dû en avoir besoin.
Il avait fait ça pour leur bien.
***
— Ce n'était pas du tout ce que je voulais, dit-il, horrifié, quelques heures plus tard.
Obi-Wan, avec un stoïcisme né de ses nombreuses années d'expérience, venait de lui montrer un ordre de mission qui faisait passer celle d'Anakin pour une tâche ardue.
Servir de témoin à l'inauguration du nouveau parc naturel maritime dédié à la paix de Champala ? On le prenait pour un padawan ?
— Ils ont complètement perdu la tête, ils ne peuvent pas se passer de toi en tant que conseiller, c'est n'importe...
— Oh, je ne quitte pas pour autant mon poste, répondit calmement Obi-Wan. Au contraire, je sers d'exemple aux autres Jedi, afin de prouver que le Conseil est juste. Merci, Anakin. Sincèrement.
— Obi-Wan...
— Sur ce, je vais te laisser.
— Où est ce que tu vas ?
— Quinlan et Luminara ont une bouteille de Danse-de-Feu antakarien qui porte mon nom. À demain.
Anakin faillit le rappeler, mais choisit sagement de le laisser partir.
Et peut-être qu’il irait voir ce que lui aussi avait de plus alcoolisé dans son placard.
8 notes
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