Kat was already at work when I woke up later, and Ivan must have left to go work with his whores. I knew I shouldn't be so bitter towards them, but I knew even back then there was more going on between him and those Slovak boys. He refused to bring them home once that Toris guy had fallen head over heels for me and I broke his fingers. Kat always scolded me for it when I brought it up, but the look on Ivan's face was pretty priceless. I was walking around town with a note that Kat had given me recently tucked away inside my pocket, which I would usually stop to sit at a bench and read the Russian roots we all shared. The note was pretty much telling me that it might be time for Ivan to get a job soon, and me soon after, if our bill kept raising. It was hard for her to work with all of her back problems, and she often was sitting on break at the shop. I was always out looking for jobs that wouldn't take me from Vash and Lili, or ones I might enjoy that didn't ask for a diploma, since I dropped out my third year. Most places weren't hiring drop outs, especially women, so by one in the afternoon I'd decided I was out of luck looking for an occupation in the Bronx. I slumped down on one of the icy benches in the little park near my part of the neighborhood and lay my head back, staring at the clouds that travelled overhead. I was wearing an old hat to keep my hair out of my face, since it was long and blonde and seemed to have a mind of its own. I pulled my pale blue jacket closer and over my grey dress, my brown boots tacking away as I tapped my foot against the cement. My mind was everywhere at once, as if I had more than one. My only skills were fighting, lock-picking, and robbery. They probably wouldn't seem too impressive to an owner of anything, so there was no way I could ask for a job at a store. And if I didn't get a job soon, we would be out of a place to live. As I was sitting on that bench and pondered possible occupations of a drop out like me, I heard the sound of whistling and cat calls from the other side of the park, where a group of men a little older than me were standing around, smoking cigars with their hands stuffed inside their older thin jackets. I could tell from their build and the condition of their clothing they weren't factory workers, and they weren't store workers, either. Actually, I couldn't tell what occupation they could have had if they weren't either of those. I spent a lot of my time outside, but I usually saw the same type of people: black boys and girls or your average blonde or brunette. My family was considered special, since our hair was a blonde that was almost white, and our eyes were bluish violet. We had paler skin than the others around and our accents assumed we were foreigners. As if it were my place to judge when I saw that flash of bright, flaming red hair… He was very tall and slender, but it was obvious from the way his jacket was so tight on his forearm that he was built with more muscle than a lot of other men I've seen. I know I probably looked weird enough already, since I was the only girl in the state who looked like I did, but he didn't even seem to notice me. It was really a relief, because I didn't want to have to punch someone who looked so interesting. He flicked his cigarette out and stomped on it, and gave a one sided grin to his friends when he did. He hit one on the chest with the back of his hand and they all followed him into this large abandoned red brick building that hadn't been in use for years. I thought it was pretty odd, since it used to be a training area for old boxers. I heard that the original owner couldn't afford to keep the place running once it was almost burnt to the ground and he replaced the destroyed equipment. I'd always wanted to go inside, but Kat and Ivan would have yelled and grounded me from Vash and Lili.

I had gone around the neighborhood again in search of a job and returned to that exact same bench by nightfall. It was probably claimed as mine by now, since it was the only one I would sit in. If Vash wanted to see me or talk to me, he knew to meet me here before eleven at night, or else I'd go home or start a robbery on my own. I didn't have any plans tonight, though, since our shelves were stocked to the brims from the hit before. It was already ten, and it was freezing out. I was probably too tired from walking to wait on Vash anymore anyway, so I decided it was best I head home. I stood from my place and adjusted my hat before I crossed the park, the wet grass sticking to the bottom of my heels as I stepped onto the grey pavement. I noticed the lights were dimly lit in the old building all those men had entered many hours ago. I let my curiosity get the better of me as I ended up standing on tiptoe to peek inside the windows. I saw that those men were moving about quickly, some on the floor and some elevated higher than others on a huge box covered in white canvas and surrounded by ropes. Some were punching these large, dangling bags that hung from the ceiling, and others were tossing a ball. I noted a few of the men were the ones I had seen standing outside. I stepped away from the window, and noted that the front door wasn't where they entered. They had gone to the side of the building and disappeared from there. I followed where I had seen them go, and was brought to a large steel door that had e small outside handle on it. When I pulled on the handle to open it, the door did not budge. It was locked. I rolled my eyes in irritation and such secrecy and pulled the pin from my hair. With great difficulty did I, a half hour later, unlock the door and manage to pull it open. When I stepped inside, the hall was musky and dark, with only one light above my head and at the end of the hall turned on. I stepped down the hall cautiously, as there was only one door, and it was under the light at the end of the corridor. When I reached that door, I knocked on it anxiously, wondering if I would even be answered. When it opened, a tall, intimidating man with blonde slicked back hair and ocean blue eyes stared down at me, his lips in thin line as he realized that it was, indeed, a young teenaged girl who had taken him from whatever work he was doing. But, without any word, he stepped aside and swung his arm, gesturing for me to enter the room without any question. I did so. He held his chin high and had thick, muscular arms that were revealed by an old wife beater that was damp with sweat, even though it was obvious he didn't mind. Neither one of us wanted to break the ice, but I really couldn't stand being lead around by someone I didn't know and that wouldn't speak to me.

"Excuse me… Mr.."

"Ludwig Beilschmidt." He provided, his voice deep and thick with an accent like Roderich's. I assumed he was German with how he turned that 'w' into a 'v'.

"Da… Ludwig. I'm sorry if I wasn't supposed to come in here or something, but I was wondering what you're all doing in this building. I saw a lot of those men from earlier in here hitting bags and fighting each other." We had walked decently far, past at least four doors. It was obvious some of these men lived here, since some had bunks in them. Another was a kitchen, one a bathroom, and the other had a lot of showers. When Ludwig stopped, I nearly ran into his back, but I backed up enough so it wouldn't seem like I was following him too closely. When I looked into the large room he had stopped in front of, I saw that it was what I'd seen when looking through the window. One of the males looked up and winked at me, causing Ludwig to stiffen enough that it drew even my attention.

"Ludwig~! Mon ami, 'o is our friend 'ere?" chirped one with long wavy blonde locks and deep blue eyes as he cupped my chin with a delicate hand. I gently pulled myself free of his grip, causing an almost rejected look to cover his face. "What is it thee men are doing?" I asked him, and I was no longer embarrassed with my accent when I had heard Ludwig's and the Frenchman's.

"They are training to go into boxing and underground fight club tournaments. Half of what they receive this place gets. It's not open to just anyone, though. If the boss doesn't want you in, you will not be let in."

"Then why did you not throw me out?" I asked.

"I think, just by seeing you, it wouldn't hurt to trust you." He gave an awkward kind of smile, probably something he wasn't really used to doing, but it was shattered when someone grunted behind us. I was turned around violently, as if whoever it was thought I couldn't manage to move on my own. I snapped my arm away from the hand that had grabbed it and glared. "You will not lay your filthy hands on me, damned man!" I sneered, not really caring who it was that had grabbed me. My only reply was a devilish grin that formed on the red haired man's face, which made me even angrier. For some reason, that cocky smirk made me even more hostile than usual. "Aye lass," he said, walking past me into the room, "Ye can't just waltz in here an' expect me t' not be wary of ye." He looked at all the training people around him, but he not once looked back at me. I turned to Ludwig. "Is it good money?"

"Ja, it is pretty good money. Especially if you win." The idea had settled with me when I had first looked into that window that, maybe, I could take up the same occupation these men had. "Where's the person who runs this place?"

As if the world could not be any more terrible to me.

Ludwig nodded to that Scotsman, who then turned and gave me a curious look with a raise of a thick brow. I really wanted to punch that confident aura that radiated from him, but I couldn't if I wanted to work out here. "Ye wanna try t' fight?" I nodded my head.

"Lass, ye can't fight here!" He laughed, his head thrown back as the sound reverberated through the room. All of the trainees were still hard at work, as if I weren't even there. As he laughed, my anger rose, until I had stomped forward. With one swift movement, I had wrapped an arm around his throat and knocked his feet out from under him, causing the two of us to collapse to the floor, where I pinned his arm under a knee and a hand, the other one holding on of my pocket blades to his throat, the blunt edge close to him.

And still, all he did was smirk at me.

"Alright, lass. Come back t'morrow. I'll give ye a chance." He chuckled, sitting up as I moved off of him. All of those training people had stopped and watched with puzzlement on their faces. I left then, all the more flustered and annoyed by this man's confidence! I hated to admit that it did sound nice though when he kept calling me lass.