The little vizard leader's eyes were still reddened when Lisa settled on the ground next to her. The warehouse was never really quiet, but on the box where the pair of vizard girls had settled, the noise from the sparring across the room was distant. The older girl hesitated before settling a long-fingered hand against dirty blond hair, tugging the other closer.

"Still upset?" she asked, flicking at a messy pigtail.

Hiyori grumbled, hands fisting against Lisa's uniform as she leaned closer, a parody of a little girl. She might have been hundreds of years old, but curled against Lisa, she really did seem like a child. It was cute.

Normally little girls could wear dresses and go on about make-up, but it was hard seeing Hiyori think of stuff like that. Lisa trailed a warm hand against Hiyori's slightly freckled cheek. Hiyori had her own charm, something that few, if any, could pull off right.

There was a charm in the way little bits of blonde hair curled at the nape of her neck, too small to be pulled into the messy pigtails above. There was a charm in the way her reddened eyes still watched Lisa suspiciously as the other girl thumbed the tiny blotches of freckles.

But most of all, it was the way she brightened a bit with Lisa at her side, the tear-reddened eyes lifting and regaining some of their life. It was a bit selfish, but Lisa enjoyed seeing that in the other girl, the little changes that showed she made a difference to her.

So she gave the blonde hair one last little flick, "You gonna be okay?" and the return of the cocky grin, somewhat stunted from before, reassured her that this was the case.

Lisa rose to her feet, brushing off her short school skirt and holding out a hand, "C'mon, then. We've got a vizard to train."