She hated Ritsu-sensei's bathroom. Hated the stark emptiness of it, the uncovered bare bulbs above the large mirror, the blandness of the sink and faucet. Most of all, she hated the way she looked with her face red and swollen from unshed tears reflected in the mirror. Hated her weakness, her imperfection. Soubi wouldn't have cried, she thought bitterly, and hated herself even more for it.
A large roll of gauze and a tube of ointment sat side-by-side on the counter, where they always were. Tsukiko ignored them, instead splashing water over her face and counting silently. At seventeen, Ritsu entered.
He picked up the ointment with long, slender fingers, a butterfly ring on one of them reflecting the light. She watched, mesmerized, as he unscrewed the cap and squeezed a large amount into the palm of his hand. It was the same thing that always happened. Then he looked up at her with a lightly impersonal gaze. Without a word, she turned around, and allowed him to spread the stuff across her newly acquired wounds, a process that she kept a straight face throughout. His hands were surprisingly gentle, tracing the lines they had made. Soon the pain had receded into a dull ache, and she didn't have to grit her teeth so hard.
When he had finished, he uttered the first words since she had entered the bathroom. "Gauze, please." She took the roll off the counter, pausing for a second to admire it before passing it over her shoulder. It was so pure, unsoiled, as few things she touched seemed.
Delicately he wrapped around her entire torso, from an inch below her arms to just beneath her navel. Tsuki caught her breath at the tightness. When she realized she had done so, she deliberately let it out, rinsing herself in the mild pain it caused. This pain she controlled, but she should be able to control all of it. Opening her eyes, she met his quietly pleased gaze in the mirror and glared. But it was only for a moment before she turned away and reached for her shirt, sliding it over the bandages.
It was silk, collared and button-up, a man's shirt of light blue, slightly too large for her. Something so normal seemed alien to her in Ritsu-sensei's bathroom, as did her jeans. She blinked, staring briefly at them as she realized that she had been wearing them the entire time. They just suddenly seemed so out of place.
Her brown eyes turned up to meet his, and she smiled for the first time, dazzlingly. She was accepting what had happened, accepting it into herself and making it a part of her. At least, so she told herself. Their meeting was almost over, and she was about to reenter the rest of the world. Ritsu smiled back, more gently. Then Tsukiko spontaneously covered the space between them and hugged him. He seemed surprised, then hugged her back and lightly kissed the top of her head, between her ears, which tilted down slightly in embarrassment.
That called her to the fact that her hair was in complete disarray. Releasing her teacher, she turned back to the mirror and removed the clip from her dark brown hair, which dropped to barely brush her shoulders. The light in the bathroom brought out a reddish hue, and she frowned, as she'd tried to wash out the highlights several days ago. But the smile came back with a shrug, and, with Ritsu watching in a kind of amused fascination, she pulled it into an artistically disarrayed ponytail. She turned her head in a few different angles before silently pronouncing it satisfactory and clipping it.
Then she headed for the door of his apartment, pausing at the threshold to turn back and, seeing that Ritsu-sensei was leaning against the bathroom door's frame, waved. With a cheery "Bye!", she grabbed her military green backpack off the floor and was out the door in a seeming whirlwind of happiness.
Slowly he shook his head. What a difference from Soubi. It took him a few seconds to remind himself why he had chosen her, but he did remember. She would be a great Fighter someday.