An alarm clock sounded from across the room, coaxing a sleep deprived college student out of her bed. She plodded across the carpet floor, turning off the infernal device. A long sigh escaped her lips before pulling her closet open and rummaging through for something to wear. After finding an acceptable wardrobe, she stumbled into her bathroom to get ready for the day.
A little over an hour later, a refined and graceful young lady emerged with a pile of neatly folding pajamas in her hands, which she promptly dumped into the hamper. "Ah, that's better!" She sighed in a thick accent. She glanced at her wrist watch, "Right on time." She announced to no one, gathering up her pre-prepared bag, sliding the strap over her shoulder as she left her apartment.
The street was alive with the morning birds, singing their songs to each other, or to no one. The steady click of her heels and the swish of her skirt was her own contribution to the tune around her. She loved the constant music of the city.
Morning air was always nice and chilly, no matter what time of the year. But she enjoyed autumn the most, because it was always the perfect temperature in her opinion. She hated the muggy heat of summer, and still failed to see how everyone else enjoyed it so much. And the bitter cold of winter was just terrible. She mentally shrugged. To each his own.
She pulled open the door of her favorite coffee shop, the familiar little bells a tinkling finale to the morning song. The tiny shop wasn't very crowded, but it never was at this time of day. A few other customers stood around, either sipping coffee, or waiting for some. She gave them her order, then took her place on the waiting train.
After a short moment, a worker moved forward with a ready cup; and everyone glanced up to see what name she would call. "Pidge?" The girl said loudly, waiting as a short customer stumbled forward.
Pidge…the name sounded familiar. She looked at the young student's face, and knew exactly why. "Pidge Holt?"
The groggy teenager turned toward her, looking confused. She watched as recognition crossed her young friend's face. "Allura?"
She laughed, nodding, "It's been a while, hasn't it?"
"Wow, I can't believe it's been four years already!" Pidge was significantly more awake, and Allura wasn't sure if it was from the coffee or excitement, Maybe it was both. "It seems like it was just last summer! I still remember everything about that camp." Pidge gushed.
They had claimed a table at the coffee shop and were now reminiscing about past adventures. Allura usually used this time to go over work that was due, just to make sure she had it all done, and done correctly. But she hadn't seen Pidge for years, so she was happy to risk it today. Besides, she had never been one to skimp on work anyway.
"Do you still do that cool whip thing?" The younger girl asked, her amber eyes wide with curiosity.
Allura chuckled, "Yes, but let's keep that on the down low."
Pidge nodded, grinning in understanding. Allura was the daughter of a prestigious corporation owner, and her interest in unorthodox weapons wouldn't be looked upon kindly. "Do you still practice your knife skills as faithfully as you did years ago?"
Pidge grinned, "Every day before sundown."
The two girls giggled, then quieted, losing themselves to old memories.
Four years ago, the two had met at a summer camp, Pidge a camper, Allura a counsellor. Allura was just out of high school, and exploring her new freedom that came with age. One said freedom was her attraction to uncommon weapons, and fighting styles that she could study without her parents' constant eye. The week before camp, she had just bought her very first bullwhip, and was working to perfect her ability to use it. One evening while practicing, she happened upon a young camper who was drilling in the forest with two knives, twin daggers almost the length of her arm. Upon being discovered by each other, the two decided to start practicing together, and thus became the best of friends.
And now here they were, years later, still kindred spirits. Allura glanced down at her watch. Her extra time was up. "Sadly, I've got to go now. Classes start early, and I can't afford to be late."
Pidge glanced down at her phone. "I should probably get moving too. Hey, wanna exchange numbers before we go? Then we can plan a hangout day or something later on."
Allura smiled, pulling out her own phone, "That sounds like a grand idea." They traded contacts, then waved each other goodbye, heading in opposite directions.
Allura picked up her brisk walk again, headed toward her college. The street outside the campus was lined with cherry trees, and she absolutely loved when the blossoms all started to fall, covering the road in pale pink flowers.
"Hey there, beautiful!" Her thoughts were rudely interrupted by a slimy looking man a few feet in front of her. He was wearing an oil-stained jacket, his greasy hair tied up under a dirty purple bandanna. She sent him a warning glare, but didn't stop. "Ah come on, don't be like that." He chuckled, stepping into her path. "I came all this way to talk to you, the least you could do is give me a moment of your time." He reached out at her arm as she walked by, but she roughly yanked it away. "I did not ask for your attention, nor do I find it at all attractive. Do not touch me unless I give you permission."
His leering smirk turned upside down in an instance, "You're a real bitch, aren't you."
Before she could react, he grabbed her by the shoulders, dragging her down a small alley between two apartment buildings. "Let go of me!" She cried, attempting to shake his grip off. But he was dragging her too roughly for her to get a good footing. He slammed her against a wall, and growled at her "I hate spoiled brats like you. Think you're entitled or some shit? Maybe I should drag you off your high horse."
But he had already made his mistake the minute he stopped pulling her. She brought her knee up hard, right between his legs. He wheezed in pain, and she slammed both palms against his chest, sending him stumbling back. Before he had a chance to recover, her elbow connected solidly with his face. A satisfying crunch sounded as his nose shattered.
She glared down at him while he shrunk back in shock and pain. "I may be entitled, but don't assume that makes me weak." She hmph'd, adjusting her skirt, and reaching up to fix her hair. "If I'm late for class because of you, I shall not be happy." She muttered, vanishing around the corner.
The warehouse reeked of oil and gasoline. The mid day sun was peeking in through the many windows lining the ceiling, illuminating the big room. A group of men were gathered below, some sitting, some standing. Almost all of them angry.
"I'm still pissed off!" One of the men yelled. "Those brats just think they can order us around? I don't think so." He paced angrily, grumbling to himself.
One of his comrades nodded, "I can't get that smug little bastard out of my head."
The first man scoffed at him, "You can't get him out of your head? You're not the one who got socked in the face. By a fucking teenager!" He gestures to his bruised jaw for emphasis.
The second man just shook his head. "That stupid kid's burned in my mind! His ugly ass hair. His eyes! His eyes are just burning into me! And those annoying fucking glasses!" He groaned, "What I wouldn't give to smash those perfectly round frames."
One of the others in the group perked up a little. "Did you say perfectly round?" The second one nodded.
The third laughed dryly, "Funny, I got jumped by some kid with round glasses too. Knocked me on the back of the head when I wasn't looking. Damn coward."
The first man scoffed, "Let me guess, he was really short too. Blond hair. Petite." He rolled his eyes.
"Actually…yeah, now that you mention in. Had big brown eyes? Kind of looked like a girl?"
The second man glanced over, "Yeah, that sounds about right."
A fourth man chimed in, "Hey, I saw a kid like that earlier today. I was scoping out this fine chick, and she was hanging out with him in the coffee shop."
The first man snorted, "Was this the same chick who broke your nose?"
He just glared at them.
"But seriously, I think this kid's a problem. We should take him out before he gets too cocky. One time wouldn't be too big a deal, but give 'em an inch, and they'll take a mile. That's too many incidents to ignore." The first man declared, "Personally, I'd like to get my hands on that damn brunet, but the blond works too. We need to put him back in his place. "
Three sets of eyes turned to him. "Take him out?" The third man muttered, "You don't mean kill him, do you?"
The first man scowled, "No of course not! We were given specific orders not to kill anyone. We can't do anything too dangerous. No, we'll just jump him, rough him up a little. Teach him the price for messing with the Galra. Word will get around, that we don't take shit from anyone. No one."