Izumi scanned her bare back in the mirror.

Wings, she'd gone for wings once. Her first time actually. Not long after she started working for Tosaki and had enough spare income to waste. To symbolize her freedom.

Or as free as her new boss allowed her to be.

('Never get a tattoo, they're permanant, you might regret it')

(It was the first thing she did)

Another time it'd been a hydrangea bush spanning the expanse of her back, all splashed shades of watery blue and pink, mingling purples. A symbol of pride, vanity, and also of gratefulness. Any of the various meanings could be applied.

(She didn't feel free anymore but was still proud, still stood tall)

(Tattoos are expensive)

(She bought her own tattoo kit)

One time she'd tattooed Tosaki's name herself, onto the privacy of her thigh, surrounded by swears and crude, undignified drawings. She had been drunker than she had ever been in her life.

(She didn't regret it)

(Tattooing kits are expensive too)

She threw it away the next time she revived, another clean slate.

One time she'd gotten her entire body crammed full of water-colours, anywhere that wouldn't be seen when she was wearing her suit. Legs, torso, arms, anywhere that wouldn't be seen was filled with vibrant colour.

(She was happy)

(Tattoos are too expensive to be getting a new full body one every few months)

(She didn't care)

"I need you to strip down to your waist, then sit on the tattooing chair with your chest against the rest," The tattoo artist told her, she was young, pretty.

She had bleached hair and her ear was lined with studs, tattoos crawling up her arms.

("Are you sure you can manage a five hour session ma'am?" "I can take it.")

Izumi knew the drill, it wasn't her first time. She straddled the tattooing chair and leaned her chin into the face rest.

(I can take it)

It was a big one, spanning down her back. Black, bold characters decorating her skin, she could feel the vibrations trembling through her bones.

(I can take it)

There were two mirrors in the room, one on the wall Izumi was facing, one directly behind her. She could see the large stencil ink staining her back as the artist started at the bottom of the stencil, working her way up Izumi's back in stark black ink.

Persevere.

Izumi could feel her whole skeleton rattling.

(She'd had worse)

Izumi is my life.

-SiCanFly