Chapter I: Encounter
The sun is setting over a deserted side street in Osaka, Japan. Two sleek young silhouettes dance gracefully around each other, trading blows that never seem to connect. It appears that the two dancers are evenly matched—a stalemate. Both warriors strike and are pushed back by the force of their own attacks—a break in the fighting. The two stare each other down… She stands at 5'9'', quite tall for a girl her age. Her long, honey-blonde hair cascades down to the small of her back. Her bangs, cut perfectly even, cover her forehead. She's dressed rather boldly, though elegantly still, in a silken white bodice and skirt. Admittedly, her clothing is somewhat impractical and far too expensive to be brawling in—not that money has ever been an object to her. Under different circumstances, it's apparent that she'd be quite attractive— what with her lithe dancer's body, her delicate features, and her well groomed appearance. But at the moment, her looks are marred by the expression of seething anger on her pretty face. She's sweating. She HATES sweating. Strands of her long hair cling to her face and neck. She brushes them away, heaving, and musters her nastiest glare. She looks directly into the other girl's eyes. She doesn't like this at all. She wonders silently how her opponent has been able to withstand her attacks up to this point. Typically, she's knocked her opponent unconscious within just a few minutes. What makes this girl any different from the others? She doesn't look particularly tough. This should've been an easy battle. She's not even enjoying herself any longer! The girl fumes inwardly… She hastily snaps herself out of her reverie. Her opponent has returned her dirty look with a smug little smirk of her own. Then, the other girl makes what she presumes to be an obscene gesture, tilting her head coquettishly. This has gone too far. The normally reserved youth is quickly beginning to lose her composure. "Never have I encountered such an irritating foe. Why, she barely even looks tired," the girl mutters to herself exasperatedly. The girl herself speaks French, whilst her opponent presumably speaks some dialect of Japanese. In that moment however, as their eyes lock, an understanding passes between them that transcends the language barrier. The girl laughs haughtily. Both young women lunge at each other. A confident grin pulls almost imperceptibly at the corners of the girl's mouth….