Must reads for this Part: Snowboarder, Survivalist, Fashion Designer
Snowboarder
December 19th, 1983
It had been a long road to this day, Yokozuna Hina thought as she looked down the icy slope of Suicide Six, brown trees flanking the path. The girl was in South Pomfret, Vermont, United States of America: a long way from home, a long way from her days of going down mountains on stitched together tree bark or construction planks. After hearing about one of the first major snowboarding races, the passionate girl just had to come. It had been a lot of work to convince her parents to go overseas over the holiday, get the funds to take the trip, buy the equipment, ensure she could register in the first place. The 16 year old Japanese girl was such an oddity to the Americans, who felt like they had no choice but to obligate someone who'd gone through so much to come here. Yokozuna was ecstatic to compete, though she would have been fine just to mess around the slopes on her own.
As the start of the race steadily approached, Yokozuna sat inside of the ski resort, only barely able to contain her excitement as she had a light drink of hot chocolate. She'd earned a bit of buzz from the other competitors due to her age and distance traveled, getting some looks of disbelief or disapproval, or wishes of luck in simple sportsmanship. Some were just plain worried she was going to get hurt: the slope they were racing on was more than one and a half kilometer long, which Yokozuna had admitted was longer than anything she'd done before. The stretch was no doubt covered in all sorts of banks, drifts, or dips, and dotted with trees and stones. Plus being surrounded by other racers, all bigger than her, was a bit risky.
But in the end, she wasn't in it to win, so she was fine with things. However, of all the other competitors, one seemed out to make her struggle a bit more. As Yokozuna relaxed, she was approached by one woman, perhaps the only other female in the competition. Yokozuna recalled hearing about Casey Kerr from one of the others, looking over the blonde woman, her hair cut short, hanging over her ears, a blue pair of goggles hanging around her neck, her snowboarding coat also matched, being two toned in white and blue. The woman looked at the foreigner through her hard eyes, before asking harshly, "Hey, what's your name again?"
"Yok-er, Hina Yokozuna," the girl replied with a smile, quickly retracting her mistake. Her English wasn't very good, admittedly, but she knew enough to get by. It was one of her best subjects in school, in fact. Hina quickly asked, "You're Casey Kerr, right?"
The woman blinked, before giving a curt nod in response. Looking the tan skinned, white and purple glad girl, Casey asked, "So, what are you doing here? Have you even been on a board in your life?"
Hina answered, "Er, none as good as these. I used to use the same boards they use to make buildings."
Casey gave her a disbelieving look, before spitting, "Don't screw with me. Look, if you're really gonna race, hang back so you don't get hurt."
Hina pouted, "I'm just here to have fun..."
Casey sighed, "Than have fun, just not in the race. Jeez, did you even sign any liability forms? What are those officials thinking? Just 'cause they probably think you're cute..."
Starting to get mad Hina hid her anger with a quick drink of hot chocolate, which only seemed to make Casey more frustrated. Plus there were a couple words Hina didn't quite understand, like 'liability'. The young girl asked, "So if you aren't here to have fun, why are you in the race?"
Casey grumbled, "What? I can't have fun and aim to win? Sure, even if the competition is just full of men." Hina blinked at her, before draining the last of her drink. With one last annoyed grunt, Casey gave a sarcastic, "Good luck."
As the blonde headed away, Hina felt the grip on her cup tighten. She didn't have much desire to win before, but now...
Less than an hour later, more than two dozen racers were lined up on a slope, the white incline dotted with bits of twigs and branch from the reddish brown trees flanking the run, which bent out of sight down below. Hina stretched her limbs as everyone made their final preparations, a long white gate along the edge, each racer's board locked within it. Glancing over to the side, she saw Casey, still looking a little tense, before locking herself into her board. Next to her, a taller man, whom Hina remembered introducing himself as Doug, locked in as well, noting, "You're looking serious all of a sudden, Hina." Hina simply offered a smile in return. Taking one look around, she saw a few spectators, though most were probably waiting down at the bottom.
After another minute or so, an announcer ordered the competitors to take their positions, and within the minute a starter pistol was fired. At the sound, the gate sank, falling to the ground, the boards sliding through the grooves they'd been locked too, beginning the decent down the slope. Hina had never done it before, so at the sinking sensation, she reflexively flailed her arms a bit as the board found the snow below. Most of the others got a stronger start, rocketing off. As Hina began to get her bearings, she tucked down, pressing her weight forwards to accelerate.
It was really something else: all thoughts of surpassing Casey fled from her mind as she began to slide. With her feet so firmly planted, keeping on her board was an afterthought she couldn't imagine after taking so many tumbles back home. She wove around stones, trees, and racer alike like an adventure in a labyrinth, yet never lost her way, the eyes of others widening behind their goggles as she charged forward. After she passed a bend, she hit a snowbank, shooting up into the air. As she reached the peak of her jump, heart rising, she realized that she had never felt more alive.
Focus returning on her decent, she possessed a demonic smile as she continued on the path, trying to keep an eye out for a thin, blonde boarder in blue. Turning yet another, particularly narrow bank, passing one boarder who'd fallen on the side of the slope, she saw her target up ahead, doing quite well, considering. Stooping down on her board, Hina sped up, reaching Casey, boarding along side her. Hina looked over at the girl, who was glancing at her through the corner of her eye. Hina took the opportunity to stick out her tongue, using one finger to pull down her lower eyelid under her goggles, before banking, speeding ahead. A glare visible behind her googles, Casey took a risky maneuver around a tree to get closer to Hina, the two girls in a deadlock as they tried to surpass one another.
As Casey got closer, Hina moved away slightly, dodging a nasty bolder on the ground. Casey hadn't seen it coming, and glanced off its side, hurtling into Hina. Casey's jaw dropped as the younger girl was knocked away, slipping into the treeline at the end of the slope.
As Hina was surrounded by foliage, she managed to keep her head somehow, even as twigs snapped against her arms and her board cut through untouched dirt. It wasn't as smooth either, and her board kept leaving the ground, but she was able to keep control, weaving around the trees, easily returning to the slope as it entered its last segment: a steep incline, with one last bump between slope and the finish line, a last obstacle, the leaders of the race already descending. But Hina's little forest jaunt had given her an idea, especially when combined with some things she'd tried back home.
Going down the incline, she gained as much speed as she could, but still couldn't quite catch up to the front runners, who were ignorant to her presence. As she reached the large bump, a final jump the finish, the front runners taking the leap, Hina suddenly turned, heading back to the forest. Circling the bump, she headed towards a tree, raising her board against it, effectively sliding off the snow piled at its base, returning to the slope, only losing a fraction of her momentum while the front runners sailed overhead, catching some air and slowing. As they made land, Hina was neck in neck with them as they sped down the final part of incline, passing the finish line.
The incline leveled out in front of the crowd of cheering spectators, Hina coming to a steady stop, smiling at the crowd. As she stood on her board, she couldn't even hear anything as her adrenaline came down, and she flopped to the ground, catching her breath as she looked far above at the sky, which was a clearer blue than she'd ever seen in Japan, not a cloud in sight. She'd forgotten all about winning: the thrill, the rush, it was perhaps one of her greatest experiences in her life yet.
As she lay on the snowy ground, she saw as Casey leaned over her, a look of concern on her face as she asked, "A-are you okay?"
At the first sight of the woman, Hina wanted to brag, but at her expression, the young girl softened, her eyes lighting up behind her goggles as she laughed, "That was amazing!" Casey let out a sigh, relieved that nothing had come from the accident.
Though Yokozuna Hina did not win the race, she gained a bit of notoriety for her achievement, and was scouted for Hope's Peak Academy in the next school year, continuing to take part in various races and competitions around the globe, excelling. Casey Kerr became both a rival and friendly acquaintance for the next couple of years, before dropping from the scene completely. Yokozuna would not hear from her until almost six years after graduating Hope's Peak Academy, when she received a sudden invitation. Oddly enough, it didn't invite her overseas: Yokozuna Hina's sudden destination was only a few hours away by train.
March 21st, 1993
After a train trip to Niigata, Yokozuna Hina found herself walking in the humid air of the port town under the tree lined roads, a letter in her hand. The woman had grown slightly taller since her first competitive snowboard competition almost ten years ago, though her skin remained sun tanned, her brown hair was still tied into pigtails, and her frame was as buxom as ever. She was dressed casually for a change, wearing a pale purple dress, a white shirt, and a light, sky blue coat. As she walked through the streets, a small black purse slung over her shoulder, checking the paper in her hands for directions, she found herself turning into a residential area, counting the numbers on the buildings until she reached the one she'd been directed too.
As she rang the doorbell to the household, she looked around the yard, seeing that it was very plain, but quite clean, making the woman wonder if it was new. After a few moments, the door opened, Casey smiling at Hina, her blonde hair still short, the woman wearing a blue short sleeved shirt and brown jeans. As she looked up and down the Snowboarder, she noted, "Wow, I didn't expect to see you in a dress. Did you get taller?"
Hina cried out in shock, "You learned Japanese!?"
Casey smiled, "Naturally. Come on in, I'll get you some tea and we can catch up."
Hina was brought into the quaint home, which, much like the outside, was almost abnormally clean. She was taken to a small patio out back, where a table sat, an umbrella coating it in shade. Soon enough, Casey brought some tea out, and began to discuss what she'd been up too for the past few years at a length. During one competition at Arashimine Mountain, she'd happened to meet a Japanese salary man named Nagasaki, the two hitting it off. He spoke English from doing lots of travel, and in fact, happened to be gone right now, though a vacation was planned for a little later. One thing led to another and here she was.
Hina took a few minutes to bring up her own life: the 52nd Class graduation from Hope's Peak, her continued snowboarding, her successful attempt to find a job in something that wasn't the seasonal sport of snowboarding (she ran a small, but popular gym, teaching locals general fitness), and her less than successful attempt to find a boyfriend (most guys seemed to be attracted to nothing but two particular qualities of hers...).
As they talked, Hina happened to glance to the glass door, a pair of gray eyes staring back at her. Hina recoiled a bit in surprise, having believed that they were alone. Casey smiled, "Oh, that's my daughter! She's a little shy."
Hina muttered, "You never said..." With a sigh, she got a better look, seeing that the girl was poking her head out from around the wall, wearing a red short sleeved shirt and a blue skirt, her blonde hair hanging to her shoulders.
Casey smiled, "This is Ayumi!"
Hina smiled, "Hi, Ayumi-chan!" At her greeting the young girl's eyes widened as she heard the muffled sound through the window, and she ducked behind the wall next to the doorway, hiding out of sight.
As Hina frowned, Casey giggled, before standing, opening the sliding door and going inside, Ayumi watching as she went inside, before returning with something bundled her in arms, Casey's body tilted to hide it from Ayumi. Reaching Hina, Casey handed Hina a yellow and red Fuji apple, before whispering, "Try this."
Nodding, Hina wiped the apple on the inside of her coat as Casey sat down, before revealing it to the young girl peeking through the now opened door. As it caught Ayumi's eye, the gray pupil lit up, and her shyness faded as she walked to Hina without hesitation. Ayumi asked in perfect Japanese, "Is that for me?" Hina nodded happily, and the six-year-old girl gave a short nod, before pushing past Hina's arm and crawling into her lap, before taking the apple and biting into it with a satisfying crunch, smiling as she chewed it. Hina couldn't help but fawn.
Casey snapped her fingers as she winked, "Worked like a charm. She can't get enough of 'em. We have to hide them actually."
Hina pouted as she imagined the little girl thieving, "You're a bad girl, Ayumi. You should listen to your parents when they tell you things."
Ayumi muttered in between bites, "How can apples be bad?"
Hina reasoned, "They can be bad if they fill you up before dinner I bet!" With a dark grin, Hina waited until Ayumi swallowed her bite, before digging her fingers into her sides, tickling the little girl, who burst into giggles as she desperately tried to hold on to her apple, using her elbows to try and fend off the laughter inducing paws. Hina and Casey laughed as the Snowboarder stopped tickling her so she could eat, and Ayumi calmed down, making a pouty face at Hina before going back to her apple.
Looking up at Casey, Hina smirked, "'One thing led to another', huh?" As Casey smiled helplessly, Hina furrowed her brow as she realized something. She muttered, "Hey, not a whole lot of people know about her love for apples, right?" As Casey started to count on her fingers, Hina gasped, "Casey! What if someone wanted to nap her! It would be super easy."
As Casey slapped her forehead, Ayumi muttered, "I'm not tired." Hina let out a sigh of amusement, hoping her observation would help Casey a bit. As she held Ayumi, she could only help but wonder what the girl would amount to...
A month later, during spring break, the Nagasaki family took a vacation cruise to the Caribbean. A storm caught the boat somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, and it never reached its destination. Despite numerous searches, the wreck, and none of its passengers were found. Even Yokozuna's connections with her classmates at Hope's Peak were unable to give meaningful assistance. A decade passed, and Yokozuna had no choice but to live on and continue her life, though she never married, nor did she find a rival or friend she'd been as close to as the woman named Nagasaki Casey.
Then, a miracle happened. A lone survivor of the wreck was found nearly ten years after the accident. Nagasaki Ayumi lived, a traumatic wreck of a teenager. Before she even had a chance to get proper help, Hope's Peak Academy took responsibility, scouting the student. When Yokozuna Hina discovered this, she objected, offering to take the girl in herself. Despite her history with the school, she was denied, though she was made an emergency contact. Despite her dissatisfaction, Yokozuna could only pray everything would be alright.
Farmer
December 24th, 1996
Silence: was that too much to ask for?
That's what Tennouji Ai begged for as the young woman sat at her desk, messaging her forehead as the trio of phones on her desk continued to buzz. The straight laced, long brown haired secretary was tired of it. The woman managed the account of a childhood friend, who was now a businessman, CEO of what was once Japan's leading food producer, Grow Beyond Co.
Emphasis on 'was once'. Tennouji had seen the signs. She'd warned him that there was a reason their further expansions were failing. She'd warned him that there was a reason that cheaper products of the same quality were showing up in grocery stores.
Finally sick of the ringing, Tennouji lifted the receiver of the closest phone up, before slamming it down. She proceeded to repeat it for the others, each hang up becoming more intense than the last. As the stopped phones began to ring again, she stood, going to the backs of each phone and ripping out the cords.
Sweet silence at last.
It wouldn't stay like this, she knew. The higher ups were floundering as they tried to ail their falling stock, but their panic was becoming detectable, and matters only seemed to be getting worse. All those calls were no doubt from journalists, begging for an interview with the CEO, the man who single handedly built the organization and helped to feed a country, but was helpless in the current situation.
She needed to find him. It was late, but not too late. Things could still be salvaged. He was a scumbag and creeper who couldn't keep a yen in his pocket and wasn't happy unless he had a woman in one arm and a bottle in the other, but despite years of bumming around, he still had those flashes of genius that had kept the company at the top for the decade of its lifespan.
He was the Super High School Level Farmer of the 55th Class, Mikage Naoki. If anyone could do it, it would be him.
Oh course, first, she had to find him. Was he even in the building? Turning a bit, she reached down, tapping the button on the paging device, speaking into it, "Mikage-san, please call the front desk."
For several minutes, there was no answer, until one of the higher ups called, informing Tennouji that he'd left the meeting some time ago as it was in progress, and hadn't been heard from since. It was far from unusual: that man had made a sad habit out of that. She considered the possibilities, wondering if he'd slipped by her and left, or was holed up in his office.
Figuring it was worth a look, Tennouji got up, making her way to the elevator and taking it up, passing a number of floors, the offices no doubt filled with employees, talking on their phones in varying states of shock and anger as they tried to control the damages. People were no doubt expecting a statement about the future direction of the company at some point in the future, but it wasn't happening at this rate. Why did things only feel like they were falling apart minutes ago?
Reaching the top level, Tennouji stepped out into the smooth hallway, stomping towards the set of double doors. She wasted no time in opening it, finding it empty aside from the walls covered in awards and recognitions, or valuable memorabilia from whatever the CEO had latched onto. Closing the door, she turned back, returning to the bottom of the building. Grabbing her long, winter coat from the rack, she headed out the door into the chill city air. She wasn't surprised to see a couple reporters still mulling about either. Making her way down the sidewalk to the parking lot, she got a couple looks, before she was recognized as the one who chased them out in the first place. As they began to swarm her, she spat, "Mikage-san isn't available for comment, so buzz off!"
As she shook them off, reaching her small vehicle, she hopped in, letting it rumble to a start with the turn of her key and moving out into the streets. She knew a number of his usual hangouts, so she was starting off optimistic, heading to his house. As she drove, she spent her time at red lights using her pager to message him, praying he'd respond.
Reaching his abode, the penthouse on the top of one apartment complex, the teller confirmed that he hadn't been in. Getting less patient by the second, she decided to throw her idealism in Mikage out the window as she started her car again, going to the place she hoped he wouldn't be: Amber Hall, Mikage's favorite bar, a rather quiet, high class environment where he went when he wanted some peace and quiet. If not there, then her next bet was Brass Tacks, a louder, cheaper, more rowdy locale.
It began to get darker as she drove, burning gas and daylight to get around as quickly as possible. As she turned the corner to Amber Hall, she felt her eyes glaze over as red and blue lights blink and flash on storefront windows in the cold, dusk air. Pulling up as close as she could, she hopped out of her vehicle and trudged over, looking around. There were two police cars and an ambulance parked outside Amber Hall, and three officers about. One of them watched the vehicles, one was talking to a man in a suit sitting on the curb, whom was being patched up by a paramedic, and another seemed to be talking with the bartender. Expecting the worst, Tennouji approached the last one, whom was standing by the scene, directing civilians away as he kept watch. Before he could say anything to Tennouji, the woman asked, "Please tell me Mikage-san isn't in one of those cars."
The officer blinked, glancing over at one of the vehicles before replying, "You know him?"
Despite herself, Tennouji felt her eye twitch. Massaging her forehead, she explained, "He's my boss. Please tell me you know what happened."
Crossing his arms over his chest, the officer began, "He was intoxicated, and was apparently starting fights. Before the bartender could have him kicked out, he smashed his glass against another patron's face, then he destroyed some of the bar's property in a short rampage before being apprehended. He'll probably be facing some assault and property damage charges."
Mood sinking even lower, Tennouji asked, "Can I talk to him for a minute?" With a nod, the officer led her to one of the vehicles, reaching his arm through the driver's side window and rolling down the back one with a click of a button. It was still closed, in a sense, by a plastic mesh, but at the movement of the window, the occupant slid over in the backseat, looking outside through his green eyes. Tennouji frowned at the blonde man in his earthy brown suit, which was a bit disheveled, along with his blonde hair. He was also missing the pair of sunglasses he typically wore, which had likely been lost in the bar. His face was reddish, but as he saw Tennouji, his eyes became pleading.
His hands rattling the cuffs behind his back, Mikage droned, "Ai-chaaaaan gimme outta here."
Gritting her teeth at her pathetic mess of a boss, she quickly spat, "Don't you give me that 'Ai-chan' crap, we're not kids anymore! And what the hell has gotten into you! It's not the end of the world!" Stamping her foot, she began, "So what if our competitors are moving in!? We just need to push them back out! And if this whole...incident gets out, then we can reinforce your image with a few alcoholics anonymous meetings here and there."
Mikage spat, "I don't wanna go to no meetin's. Those bastards stole it."
Grimacing, Tennouji asked, "Stole what?"
Mikage groaned, "I was making a deal with that shipping company. Fuju...Fubu..."
Tennouji blinked, until the rest popped into her mind, and she finished, "Fukunaga Shipping?"
Mikage nodded, "Yeah, thems the guys. I called 'em, then I call back when I didn't get a call, then they said they messed up and called Growing Fer All, so they're doing the deal with them instead the fuggin' fugs!"
Tennouji sighed, "Is that all?"
"Wadda mean 'is that all'!? If we can't ship we can't sell!" Mikage roared. Tennouji could smell the alcohol on his breath even from outside the vehicle.
The woman snapped back, "What do you mean can't ship?"
Mikage explained, groaning, "It's goin' bad in the warehouses, no one's buying it."
"Then the problems not with the shipping!" Tennouji screamed. She started to feel her head pound: was this really her CEO? What the hell was wrong with him? She asked accusingly, "You aren't on drugs, are you?"
Suddenly alert, the nearby officer noted, "We were going to test..."
Mikage snapped, "I ain't on drugs!"
"Then act like it!" Tennouji replied. Headache worsening, she said, "Just sober up in the drunk tank and get together with everyone tomorrow so you can salvage things!" She was starting to get more worried: she'd never seem him like this, not during the flash floods last spring, or the sudden frost two years ago...
Maybe that was why? He was a Farmer. He'd grown good products but his methods had spread, so many other farms around the world were able to increase food production. Some had even refined those methods, improving on them.
But the trade wars of stocking and shipping? What did Mikage know? In fact, what did Tennouji know? But that's what the other employees were there for.
Mikage muttered again, "I wanna get home, Aiiiii..."
Tennouji sighed, "I can't even get the bail sorted out until you've been processed, be patient, we'll get it taken care of." After a moment, she hoped, "But this jam...we'll get out of it somehow. You gotten us out of trouble before."
After a moment, Mikage replied, "That's what I like about you, Ai-chan, you never give up on me, even though I screw up all the time." Letting out a sigh, Tennouji turned to take a step away as Mikage leaned back in his seat, he muttered, "I think I've liked you for years, but hell if I'd ever have admitted it."
Tennouji froze on the spot out of sheer shock. She managed to croak out, "See you in a little bit, Mi..." her words trailed off as his name died on her lips. Trying to put it aside, she made her way back to her vehicle, just as the officers began to disperse, shipping the CEO off to the station.
As she sat in her car, she leaned forwards, laying her arms across the wheel and resting her head. "Damn it, Mikage," she muttered to herself.
How long had she waited to her those words?
Their whole lives they'd know each other, it seemed, but even after so long she still hadn't been able to share her feelings. Then he moved on, becoming rich and famous, going to Hope's Peak. But even so, he never rebuked her, even when many of their neighbors and their families did the same to him. He'd offered her a job when his company was still small, before it flourished into the giant it was today. They'd interacted almost every day since they'd graduated high school, and almost every day before they'd started in the first place.
Reaching into her pocket, she thought about her unmarried childhood friend as she withdrew a gold ring. A gift, from another man she knew who worked for the company, someone she knew well.
"You were too late, you idiot," Tennouji muttered bitterly.
Though Tennouji Ai was married in the following year, Grow Beyond never quite recovered from its falling stock and the fallout from Mikage's arrest. The skilled Farmer was able to recoup some losses by getting into packaged foods, having many excess foods canned or dried before the fields were improved, and it was restored to its former state. And yet, even with the recovery, Grow Beyond still held that stigma of its dark years.
However, with the advent of the Worst Incident, Grow Beyond's stockpile of food inadvertently saved the country. The mass destruction of property and loss of lives resulted in food production being ground to a halt. If not for those canned goods, the number of lives lost by starvation would have been even more drastic. And with Mikage having survived the Incident, he was able to help Future Foundation make arable land, and begin growing fresh food once more.
Tennouji Ai still lives, though she had been widowed, and her relations with Mikage Naoki have been strained since the announcement of her marriage.
Survivalist
May 6th, 2003
"Good morning, Students of Hope's Peak Academy. It's time to begin yet another day. The Music Room is still being renovated, so please avoid it if possible. Thank you."
As the headmaster's voice played over the school's intercom once again, Nagasaki Ayumi rolled over in her sheets, wearing a long white shirt as pajamas, her long blonde hair spread out over the bed. Clutching the blanket around her, she sat up, looking around at the pink walls of the school's Dorms.
Nagasaki had been sleeping here for more than a month, but it still felt alien to her. More than two months ago, she had signaled a boat that was passing by the island she had been situated at. She couldn't even speak properly until the end of the week long voyage with them back to Japan; the sailors having managed to coax her into it, even if they couldn't understand her. Then, since April, she'd been here.
Hope's Peak Academy had desperately wanted Nagasaki in their halls. For seventy years they'd inducted Talented teenagers into their classrooms, strengthening them and teaching them so that they might go out into the world stronger, and advanced their field bringing Hope to humanity. Or something like that, apparently: Nagasaki was more interested in food and shelter.
After all, Nagasaki Ayumi had nothing left. Her only known family had died the accident that stranded her, and any living relatives were too uncaring or unable to do anything about her. She had 'family' in a sense, her fifteen peers in the 71st Class, but they were...bizarre. To be honest, aside from not having to worry about food and shelter as much, it didn't feel so different from the wild. She had a list of strenuous daily activities, but it was difficult schoolwork and physical education instead of checking food stores and gathering water or maintaining and constructing equipment. Instead of the threat of wild animals, she had to worry about pushy and probing scientists. Something was missing from the environment at the Academy that had been lacking from the island, but she couldn't tell what.
Getting up, Nagasaki dressed herself properly, feeling naked as she put on a brown skirt, red tie, and uniform coat. After tying up her hair, she went to her pillow, removing a well-worn survival knife from underneath it, taking a calming breath as she stowed it in her pocket. The tool seemed to be her only friend: trusty, reliable...
Heading out, she saw a few more of her classmates as they went to the Cafeteria for the first meal of the day, before the week's schooling began. Getting her breakfast of eggs and veggies, Nagasaki took her usual spot well away from the others, at one of the smaller tables near the corner. Facing her back to the intersection of walls, she began to eat, scooping her egg up with a fork.
As she wrapped her mouth around the fried, white egg, she was approached by one of her classmates: a rare occurrence. The girl, her pink hair hanging down to her shoulders, a number of the locks occasionally curling back upwards, smiled at the Survivalist, saying, "Good morning..." She trailed off as she saw Nagasaki's mouth stuffed with food. Ayumi didn't break eye contact as she slurped up the egg, swallowing it, making the pink haired girl blink as she hesitated.
The girl addressing her was Kujo Reimi, Super High School Level Real Estate Agent, which involved buying and selling houses or something like that. Nagasaki was never really too interested in the Talents of her classmates. She repeated, "Er, good morning, Nagasaki-san."
Nagasaki muttered, "Good morning."
Still seeming a bit awkward, Kujo asked, "Er, enjoying your breakfast?" Nagasaki gave a simple nod as she went for another bite. Changing the subject yet again, Kujo asked, "We have PE first, I think. You're really good at it, huh?"
Nagasaki nodded, "I guess." It was true; she may not have been the best when it came to most activities, but she still managed to outdo most of her classmates in preforming them. Years of physical activity had given her good control over her body. She didn't take part in anything that required contact, obviously, but it was easily her best subject: math was difficult beyond basic functions, she was far behind in science, and her language skills had suffered.
After a moment, Kujo asked, "Got anything planned after school?" As Nagasaki shook her head, Kujo began happily, "Me and some of the other girls were going to go hang out after classes for the day end, wanna join us?"
Nagasaki frowned, wondering, "Like what?"
Kujo smiled, "Shopping, walking through town, maybe checking out a movie or something?"
After thinking it over, Nagasaki shook her head, saying, "No thank you."
With a short sigh, Kujo replied, "That's fine. Maybe another time?" Bidding farewell, the pink haired girl went to get her food, leaving Nagasaki to her thoughts. The Survivalist wondered: what activities would pique her interest? Her childhood felt distant to her: she vaguely remembered playing around on the playground quite a bit, but that wasn't exactly a high school student's idea of a good time. Nor was it Nagasaki's: normally she just went along with her school activities, or at least those she could manage, then spent her extra time mulling about, usually in the Garden on the top floor, or just outside the Academy, though she always found herself scampering back inside, usually when the fanatic Preparatory School Students caught sight of her, whispering excitedly at a distance. Something about meeting new people had always been tough for Nagasaki, even when she was a child...
"As you can see here, when the proper insulation is applied..."
Nagasaki Ayumi dozed off as the teacher rambled on and on. She stooped a meter or so away from the others as they paid attention to the physics lecture, standing around a large machine, which occasionally arced lightning across one of its pylons. It wasn't very loud, but it also didn't unnerve Nagasaki too much. Apparently, it was both a generator and a learning aid, to show how electricity moved, but Nagasaki was still below that level. How lightning moved wasn't really important to her.
In fact, what really was?
As she sulked a bit, the fuzz on her arms and legs standing on end from the electricity in the air, one of the others came a bit closer, ignoring the lecture as he approached. Nagasaki looked up at the boy, who wore the typical, time tested Hope's Peak uniform. He had short, blond hair that reached to around his ears, and bright blue eyes. Nonchalantly, he stooped down near Nagasaki, who responded by scooting away a short bit. He sighed, "So cold, Nagasaki-san..."
She knew the boy, naturally. Ryuzouji Takuhiro, the 71st Class' Super High School Level Jockey: a master when it came to riding horses. He wasn't very well liked, however, and didn't seem to be ashamed of that fact. A known lecher and sadist, Nagasaki preferred to be a little farther from him than she was with everyone else.
Sure enough, as the lectures continued, Ryuzouji seemed to leer at her, a slight smile on his face. Hoping he would get the hint, Nagasaki scooted even farther from him, doing her best to ignore the Jockey. As he made to move closer, Nagasaki muttered, "Cut it out."
Ryuzouji sighed, "Oh come now, relax a little. I'm not going to touch you." Despite his assurance, Nagasaki didn't loosen up any, but she didn't move away either. She concentrated her weight to the balls of her feet, so that she might hop away if need be. Ryuzouji finally scooted next to her, which made Nagasaki a little anxious.
"Bored?" Ryuzouji asked. Nagasaki simply shrugged. Ryuzouji added, "Well, I suppose this is what we get with an Electro-physicist in our Class. But seriously, doesn't this seem a little basic? Misaka's supposed to be Talented, isn't he?" When Nagasaki didn't respond, he muttered, "Ah well, I suppose teaching us more about what he deals with isn't so bad..."
There was a bit more silence from the pair, until Ryuzouji suddenly raised his hand, running his fingers through Nagasaki's ponytail. Shuddering at the physical contact, she hopped away, crouching down on one knee, one of her arms on the ground to help her balance, the other on the knife in her pocket. As she stared in shock, Ryuzouji laughed, "Heh, my apologies, I couldn't resist. You're kinda cute, you know, in a different sort of way." Crawling closer, his face still holding a smile, he added, "I mean, all the others are so...bland. Giggling and smiling, like they think they're cute. You? You're timid, but it's hiding a certain strength within you." Still in shock, Nagasaki didn't react as he got right in her face.
He finished, "And, like with horses, it's the strongest, wildest ones that are the most satisfying to 'break'."
Nagasaki snarled, buckling her legs and charging forwards. She didn't flinch as her skull collided with Ryuzouji's nose roughly. The Jockey fell back as Nagasaki scrambled to her feet, watching as Ryuzouji landed on his rear, clutching as his nose as it began to leak blood. Nagasaki began to sweat when she noticed that all eyes were on the pair, but she couldn't so easily release the grip on the survival knife in her pocket either.
Stomping towards them, the lab coat wearing teacher demanded, "What's going on? Why are you interrupting?"
Kujo Reimi gave the scientist a disbelieving look, before snapping, "Oh just buzz off." Turning to Nagasaki with a bit of concern, she asked, "What did he do?"
Ryuzouji snorted, hand stemming the blood flow from his nose, "Oh, so it's my fault I got hit."
Glaring at him, Kujo replied, "Uh, yeah? She was fine just sitting there alone until you came along, I'll bet." Looking back at Nagasaki, she suggested, "Let's just go, Nagasaki-chan!"
"Leave me alone," Nagasaki muttered.
Kujo blinked, replying, "Eh? But..."
Nagasaki reiterated, "Leave me alone." Unable to stand the electricity in the air nor the machine's occasional discharge, she turned and stomped her way out, heading for the door.
"Stop right there young-" the teacher began as he approached Nagasaki from behind. A mistake nothing had made more than once. Reflexively, Nagasaki turned on him, waving her knife about in an attempt to keep him away. However, the absent minded man got too close, and found his chin jarred by the butt of Nagasaki's knife. Staggered, he stumbled away, before tripping over his own feet and landing with a crash. As he tried to recover, he glared at Nagasaki, who recoiled under his eyes. Unable to take the constant stares, Nagasaki bit her lip and fled.
As she tore through the halls of the Academy's Third Floor, she was starting to feel the gravity of her mistake. She'd harmed a peer and a teacher, and snapped at the person most likely to vouch for her. Were they going to kick her out? She had nowhere to go...
As she spotted the stairs to the Fourth Floor, she headed up, passing by the bathrooms as she meandered. A voice from ahead, echoing from near the Chem Lab, put her on guard. It was likely just an upperclassman, but she didn't want to be seen or spoken to right now. Spotting a closet built into the support pillar in the center of the floor, Nagasaki slipped inside, closing the door and standing among the shelves of cleaning supplies. She gagged at the scent, the gross mixture of all sorts of nasty chemicals, detectable even through their bottles to Nagasaki's senses. Luckily, there was a second room in the closet. After pulling open the door, Nagasaki moved a little farther back, finding herself amongst brooms, mops, dustpans, and buckets. Glad that the light scent of dust and mildew didn't smell nearly as bad as the previous room, she maneuvered a bucket and broom to block the door as best as she could, before going to the far wall, sitting down, wrapping her arms around her knees as she hid in solitude.
Why couldn't she act like a normal person anymore?
She had been normal once, in her seemingly distant childhood. She remembered having a small number of friends, but couldn't recall their names. She remembered her mother, father, and a few moments she'd shared with them...what was her father's name again? Clutching her knees harder, she began to feel nauseous. On those islands, not a day had gone by when she didn't think of her parents, but now she was starting to realize that she'd barely known them. They'd just been 'mom and dad' to her. She didn't know how they met, their favorite foods, hobbies, or their occupations.
What about herself? Ayumi knew full well that she had none of those things: hobbies, favorite foods... She didn't have anything her peers had either, like friends, hopes, dreams, or ambition.
Survive. That was all it had been for a decade, but now that it was so easy she just felt...empty?
The thought bewildered her: did she miss the hellish island she'd been trapped on for so long?
Perhaps there was some logic to it. There, she had goals, and the satisfaction of meeting them. The simple rules of nature were all that bound her, as they did everyone, but she was free.
Here? She only saw restrictions, odd looks as she unwittingly tested and broke the boundaries of society, all sorts of complicated rules and laws. She stumbled around people awkwardly instead of striding through trees proudly. She'd gotten here because she'd done something amazing. They wanted to hone her Talent, but how did one hone Survival? Try to kill her? They wouldn't...
And if that was the case, why should she be here?
Gritting her teeth, she raised her arm, slamming the bottom her fist against the wall behind her in an attempt to take out her frustrations. She had no idea what to do, and no idea who to turn to. The people here weren't out to help her, with perhaps only one exception...
As she continued to think, mulling out things, she realized that she'd lost track of time. She was stiff in her position, making her remember how much she'd taken for granted the natural clocks she'd grown accustomed too. As she began to stand, groaning as she stretched, she heard vibrations from a few doors away: talking from outside the door. She couldn't make out the words, but they seemed...surprised? The next ones were a bit louder: Nagasaki realized that the first door had opened, and someone was saying something in a commanding tone, but not to her.
Cautiously, Nagasaki made towards the door that blocked her from that outside world, pushing past the brooms and buckets once again. Putting her ear against the door, she began to listen, but before she could make anything out, the door suddenly opened, being pulled away from her. Nagasaki's useless blockade fell to the ground in the doorway, and Ayumi herself recoiled, skittering back to the wall in surprise. However, the person who opened the door was not anyone she recognized.
It was a woman, easily more than a decade older than her, perhaps even nearing two. She watched Ayumi through her concerned, purple eyes, her face displaying a mixture of worry and recognition. The woman's skin was well tanned, and she had brown twin tails hanging in front of her shoulders. She wore a white T-shirt and a light teal coat over her buxom figure, and tan, ankle length pants with loafers. Around her arm hung a small, black purse.
As Ayumi looked over the stranger, her back pressed to the wall, the woman did not approach, instead saying, "It's okay! I'm not going to hurt you." Her voice seemed oddly nostalgic to Nagasaki for some reason, even though she'd just met this person. As she looked her over, she began to remember some woman a bit like her...
The woman continued, trying to reason, "You're not in trouble, don't worry. Watanabe-san isn't too hurt, and Ryuzouji is going to be punished for provoking you." The woman looked aside, and Nagasaki caught her muttering of, "Whoever they are..."
Nagasaki hissed, "You aren't involved. Leave me alone."
The woman frowned, before scratching her head, beginning, "Er, I guess I didn't introduce myself. I'm Yokozuna Hina. I used to go here but...I'm here for you, Ayumi-chan."
Nagasaki glared, not pleased with the casual tone. She replied bitterly, "I don't want to be here. I never asked to go here; I just don't have anywhere else... I don't have anything..."
To her surprise, Yokozuna took a few steps forward, insisting, "That's not true."
Gritting her teeth, Nagasaki shrunk back, making her form smaller, slipping her hand into her uniform coat pocket and clasping her fingers around her knife. Before she could spit out another rebuking phrase, Yokozuna moved, taking a half step forward as she reached into her purse. Despite her bluster, Nagasaki flinched, whipping her knife out and aiming it at the woman. Yokozuna didn't flinch as she drew out her own 'weapon': a yellow and red Fuji apple. Extending her arm, Yokozuna looked at Nagasaki, who'd frozen in surprise, with a soft smile as she claimed, "This is for you."
Swallowing, Nagasaki stretched her free hand out gingerly, taking it before shuffling back along the way, a little farther away. Letting her knife arm hang, she examined the fruit a little closer. She'd had apples since leaving the island, but the green granny smith variety she'd gotten when she'd asked for 'apples' always tasted more bitter than she remembered. She could tell this one smelled different though. Raising it to her lips, she bit into the crunchy object, ripping out a chunk of skin and flesh.
As the sweet taste filled her mouth, she was briefly overcome with a strong nostalgia. She remembered her childhood more vividly than she had in years, eating apples on the patio behind her home, wind lightly blowing through her hair. Her mother and father's faces came clear to her, and she also remembered this woman...
As the piece of apple became soft and warm in her mouth, she felt her face become warm and wet with her tears. Loosening up, she slipped from her stooping position, landing on her knees and slumping as she began to sob. She was unable to control the rush of emotions as a piece of her life that had been missing for so long was suddenly restored. She felt an arm around her, but didn't have the will to lash out at it as she might have not long ago. As Yokozuna embraced her with one arm and lightly patted her sobbing head with the other, muttering softly, "It's okay, it's okay," Nagasaki finally understood what had been missing.
Family.
With Yokozuna Hina helping to guide her, Nagasaki Ayumi was finally able to start rebuilding her life. She was able to get the mental and emotional help she needed to deal with her various traumas that Hope's Peak hadn't even bothered to supply. With time, she was able to begin functioning well enough to be considered normal. She bonded with her Classmates and held an undying gratitude for her guardian, Yokozuna, whom, despite not being related by blood, treated Nagasaki no differently than she might have her own child.
Several years later, during the Worst Incident, Nagasaki, in spite of her rapidly resurfacing traumas being triggered by the near-apocalypse, put everything she had into reserving the lives of herself and Yokozuna, until they found respite in the arms of Future Foundation. Nagasaki held much value as a scout, being seemingly unkillable, while Yokozuna, whose Talents were less than useful, still did everything she could to help both Nagasaki and Future Foundation.
Park Tycoon
April 9th, 2005
"Well, that was a bust..."
Groaning and grumbling, a pair of women walked down a city street in the near darkness, the sky above dotted with faint clouds, the road nearby partially illuminated by streetlamps and the occasional passing car.
The woman closest to the road, wearing a salmon colored button up shirt, her black skirt passing her knees as she plodded along in high heels, adjusted her thin glasses as her long black braid on hair bounced behind her, groaning, "We should have known he was going to suck the fun out of everything..."
The woman next to her, her white hair long and poofy, held back by a headband, dressed in a long sleeved pink shirt and long black pants pouted, "He didn't even invite everyone..."
The one in glasses snorted, "I know! What the hell is that! And he tried to lie too! What a sleaze ball."
Disappointment still plaguing the air, the women continued to mope. The pair of them had been looking forward to today for so long, and had taken time out of their busy schedules to attend too, with full intent to celebrate and catch up with old friends.
It was no normal reunion: roughly twenty five years ago, Hope's Peak Academy's 50th Class had graduated, moving on with their lives. Of course, being Hope's Peak Students, was it really any surprise that they were too busy to completely stay in touch?
However, their evening was not over, a voice interrupting their thoughts, "Eh, it isn't over already, is it?"
The two girls looked up, meeting eyes with a woman with pink hair, slicked back, showing off a forehead, her ears holding up a pair of hoop earrings, each with a red gemstone suspended inside. The woman's outfit was particularly flashy: a collared, long blue coat, a layered white ascot in the front of her neck, gold buttons trailing to the woman's lower torso, where the coat split off to the side, showing thin black pants and boots. Looking between the two with her blue eyes, their sharpness lightly accented by makeup, she muttered, "Public transportation is a menace to society..."
The reaction from the other two was split. The black haired one snorted, "Sure it wasn't because you were busy applying all that make up?"
The white haired one, however, bounded forwards, grabbing the flashily dressed woman into a hug, saying happily, "Nagisa-chaaaan!" Back up a bit, she smiled, "I didn't think you were going to make it."
Proudly, Kobayashi Nagisa replied, "I would construct a new ride for the purpose of taking it here if need be." Looking over the white haired girl, she noted, "You're as energetic as ever, Saaya."
Kameda Saaya, former Super High School Level Shipper, giggled at the comment. The girl had inherited a shipping company at a young age, and ran it better than her deceased family. Her habit of pairing up her Classmates in her brain was kind of annoying though. Getting a bit closer, the black haired woman added, "You didn't miss a thing, by the way. A grand total of half the class was there: everyone else either didn't show or wasn't invited."
Kobayashi cringed as Karama Naomi shared that knowledge, muttering, "Then what's the point of a reunion!?" As she caressed her forehead, she was glad that the woman was as honest as ever: she'd kept in touch, in a sense. Karama was accepted as the Super High School Level Journalist, her articles covering all sorts of subjects, the woman being so bookish Kobayashi swore she'd seen a paper cut or two on her nose before.
Thinking about things, Kobayashi crossed her arms over her chest, mumbling, "I sure as hell didn't come all this way for nothing..."
After a moment, Karama suggested, "Let's get some drinks! Just the three of us! We can catch up for real."
Kameda nodded happily, saying joyously, "That sounds wonderful!" Grabbing the two by the hand, she began to drag them along, saying, "KKK is back together!"
Kobayashi gagged on her spit, as she was dragged along, insisting, "Hey, you could have phrased that better..." Karama's hand covered her mouth as she tried to hide her amusement. Kameda blinked in confusion, but had nothing to say.
Moving on, the three found themselves sitting cross legged around a table in a bar and grill, looking a tad formal for the occasion. Any concerns they had fled upon getting some meat and beer, and the three quickly began to trade tales.
"So, we finally get to do the interview, and you know what? She's such a drag. The whole time she was just so bored and wanted to get back to her games, it's no wonder it took so long to set up."
"Really? She's always so bubbly!"
"TV brings out the falseness in people once again. Seen it a million times, but it still catches me off guard every now and then!"
"Ooh ooh! Did you get a chance to talk Hideki and Mai too? I always thought they looked good together…"
"Hideki's not into girls, actually…"
"Oh! That makes things way more interesting!"
"N-no, that was a joke, don't go spreading that around…"
As her friends talked, Kobayashi couldn't help but listen, content to drinking, trying to keep her mind off her own personal affairs. Not realizing her face was started to get flushed, she wondered aloud, "Heeeeeey Naomi-chan, whatever happened with you and Yamato?"
The atmosphere in the fine smelling room seemed to come to a chilling halt. Kameda and Karama creaked their heads to Kobayashi with worry, the Journalist replying, "Er, we're still seeing each other…"
Kobayashi grumbled, "Eh!? It's been like, twenty years!"
Eye twitching with irritation, Karama, grumbled, "Yes. We see each other every time I come home, thus, still seeing each other."
"Aaaaah, that's how it is. Coulda just said something," Kobayashi nodded, before draining her mug. Snapping her gaze to Kameda, she asked, "And you? How's the love life going?"
Pressing her fingers together awkwardly, Kameda mumbled, "I'm still taking care of our boy, but we divorced a few years ago…"
Eye twitching, Kobayashi, nodded, "Oh, got a kid or two, huh…" Going for another swig from her mug, she discovered it empty. Scowling, Kobayashi stood, shouting, "Oi! Where's the refill!?" Karama caressed her head in irritation as Kameda continued to fidget awkwardly. Still waiting, Kobayashi whipped back to Karama, asking forcefully, "Oh yeah, you got any?"
"Two, my youngest is nine," Karama answered defiantly.
Kobayashi nodded, "Oh, I see… I gotta niece about that age..." The Park Tycoon was cut off as the serer finally arrived, giving the woman a refill. As he left, she didn't hesitate to gulp some down, letting out a sigh of relief before muttering, "She's cute though, likes magic n' magical girls and stuff. Are your kids cute?"
"W-well-" Kameda began.
She was halted by an upraised arm, Karama cutting her off as she glared at Kobayashi from behind her glasses. Peeved, the woman began, "Oh no, not today. I don't know how many drunk calls you've been getting, Saaya, but I'm pretty damn tired of it." Standing up and looking Kobayashi in the face, she stated, "How long have you been trying to get something steady? Thirty years? Thirty years!? You're a wizard when it comes to business and fun, your advertisements are golden, you have stage charisma, and most of the time you're fun to be around but holy hell when one thing doesn't work for thirty years most people give up andmoveonwiththeirlives!" Having said her piece, Kamura took a few breaths, closing her eyes as she adjusted her glasses, letting out a sigh of relief and muttering, "Oh yes, I feel like an elephant just stepped off my chest…"
Kobayashi was starstruck, staring at the woman blankly. Shaken, she slipped down to the table below, setting down her mug as she stared into space. Saaya muttered, "N-Nagisa-chan?"
Eyes beginning to moisten, Kobayashi began to sob, "I just…I just…"
"Oh boy here we go," Karama sighed, Kameda looking between the two frantically.
Kobayashi turned on the waterworks, moping, "I just want a guy! I just wanna fall in love and do that kinda stuff! I mean, everyone keeps telling me love is overrated and it's not as good as it sounds, but then why are there so many books and movies and songs and games about it!"
Kameda mumbled, "Wait, games? You aren't thinking, like-"
Ignoring her, Kobayashi buried her face in her arms on the table, continuing, "But why would anyone want me anyway? I'm old, moldy, Christmas cake..."
Standing up, Karama headed over, crouching next to the woman, and resting a hand on her back, beginning, "I just gave a bunch of reasons you goof." Kobayashi looked up from her puddle of liquid self-loathing, and Karama suggested, "Let's get you out of here and take a nice hotel tonight, you're in no state to go home."
As Kobayashi continued to sniffle, Kameda mumbled, "I-Is this forbidden?"
Kamura glowered, "Hey, cut that out and help me get her up."
Footing the bill, the two each hoisted the blubbering Kobayashi, trying to avoid eyes as they headed out. Looking over at the bowed head of the Park Tycoon, Kamura muttered, "Be prepared for the same spiel tomorrow because I am not letting you forget this time…" As Kobayashi Nagisa began to fall into a stupor, the other two continued to support her as the night wore on.
While Kobayashi Nagisa never married, she did finally come to terms with her lack of a lover, instead focusing her energies on her love of business, and was also unable to keep from coddling her niece.
When the young girl vanished sometime after the Worst Incident, Kobayashi could barely contain her grief, already having lost everything else excluding her life, and confirming the girl's death was perhaps the worst. Kobayashi had little to offer Future Foundation in the first place, and had little solace as she inched ever closer to true Despair, but never truly falling to it.
Fashion Designer
November 17th, 2007
"So, as one of the world's leading fashion designers, how do you define beauty?"
"Ah, such a simple question on the surface, it seems, no? How many possible answers could there be? Of course, I have given it much thought, so I'm quite glad you asked. You see, I believe that that which is beautiful is that which is loved. Many believe it to be the reverse; that beauty results in love, but are affection and love truly the same?"
"Eh? I thought I was the one asking the questions here, Uzatei-san." There was a brief laugh, partly obscured by a groan. The interviewer continued, "But, since you're a fashion designer, you make people beautiful, no?"
"No."
"Errr..."
"You see, my work is beautiful because it was loved. Even if the reception was unsatisfied, I put care and craft into the placement of every stitch. All of my clothes are loved by me, like my own children. Of course, I must part with them in some way, so, as is known, when designing clothes for a specific person, I infamously request a meeting with them. If I find them unlovable, then they do not receive my custom designs, it's as simple as that. For my best work, there is nothing better than beautiful clothes worn by a beautiful person."
"Turn it off..."
"And there you have it! Straight from the mouth of the man from Hope's Peak Academy's 68th Class, Uza-"
"Please."
There was a click and the buzz of static as the television switched off. "Thank you," came the relieved voice of the man who had just been on screen. He sat in a clean, dignified looking waiting room, reclined on a soft couch in the center, the television hanging in the corner near the desk. He scratched the stubble on his chin as he reached to the chair next to him for his black trilby, holding it before beginning to spin it on his finger in boredom.
Uzatei Kotetsu, genius Fashion Designer of an esteemed family being forced to wait? Madness, he thought. And worse yet, they played that old interview of his. He did not mind his words so much, as cheesy as it sounded out loud sometimes, but he was not a vain man, and for them to be playing that of all things...were they trying to butter him up? Disgusting.
That aside though, he didn't mind the wait too much, the atmosphere in the studio's waiting room was rather relaxed, and his seating comfortable. There was even an older issue of a magazine he'd recently subscribed to among the rest, which he had scanned briefly. To be honest, he had been early anyway, so he should have expected this and brought a book or something.
After a few more moments, the teller said, "Uzatei-san, she'll be right out. I do apologize for the wait, we normally don't take long with our shoots."
With a curt nod, Uzatei replied, "Very well. I'll be outside." Standing up, he slapped his hat onto his head with one hand and slipped the other into his pocket before moving out the door. Stepping outside into the daylight, he looked around the city street, the various shops and stalls lining the road, only a few passersby going about in the slightly chilly air. Uzatei in his long sleeves had no problems with the cold, but when his potential customer arrived, he couldn't help but feel she might find discomfort.
Said girl was young, in her mid-teens, standing shorter than him. Her head was crowned with a mop of strawberry blonde hair, tied into two large pigtails, one bound with a red and white bow, the other with a black bunny rabbit shaped hairpin. She wore a pair of black boots and a short red skirt, most of her leg bare to the cold. Her long sleeved, black, buttoned shirt was partially open, neither the black and white scarf nor similarly colored tie did much to hide her tactically revealed cleavage.
Before the Fashion Designer could get a word in, the middle school girl bounded up to him, perhaps as if to embrace him, a wide smile on her face. Uzatei clicked his tongue, raising his hand, planting it on her face and stopping her charge, sighing in frustration, "What are you, a child? You could at least pretend to be professional."
A pouty look on her face, Enoshima Junko moaned, "I thought this was a date..."
Uzatei gave a snort of disgust, before stating, "It would be wise to think of it as an interview."
Enoshima swiftly whipped out a pair of glasses, changing her posture as she stated firmly, "Ah, yes, in line with your philosophies on beauty, you plan to probe me in an attempt to see my 'worthiness' for you fashion, despite the various gains each of us have for mutual cooperation. Pride is such a fickle thing."
Unamused, Uzatei blinked, stating, "Let's get on with it, shall we?" As he made to walk away, he couldn't help but feel how forced this performance was. Was it some pathetic attempt at being cute?
Regardless, she was correct. Uzatei's goal was to see what kind of a person she was. Needless to say, they weren't off to a great start, but soon he would see the truth. The Uzatei family was more than crafty, and Kotetsu lived to that reputation. Though it was little known outside of those he worked with regularly, each one of these interviews tended to be plagued with a random encounter of sorts. One could only learn so much through simple talk: the true way to discern their inner beauty by Uzatei's standards was to put them into a strange or unexpected situation and watch their fake, sickly sweet shells shatter, revealing the vile being underneath, or see their virtues shine forth.
The next few hours went rather usually as the odd pair went about the city, seeing a few sights or grabbing a quick bite. Most of the talking was Enoshima answering Uzatei's questions half seriously. Sometimes her stories and answers sounded plausible, yet others were so ridiculous it was as if she was trying to top herself. Yet at the same time, she was so blunt about other things, like her deceased parents or missing sister, that he really had no idea what to believe, discarding it entirely and guessing that this was all just a game to her.
As the interview began to wind down, the timing for Uzatei's plot began to near. He had seen his relative as the pair walked through a somewhat crowded road on their way to the train station, where Enoshima was to be dropped off before Uzatei called in his ride. Meeting eyes with the man, several years older than him and millions of times more pitiable; Uzatei Muramasa, the two nodded, ready to begin. The man in his short brown hair, his fat form squashed into a T-shirt and jacket and a pair of jeans, glasses set onto his fat nose. Such a dignified name for such an unlucky man, forced to act as servant to the rest of his family by their tradition...
As for the rather simple plan itself: Kotetsu would scamper off for a moment, leaving Junko alone as he observed. Muramasa would then come in with his camera, begging for a picture, off handedly mentioning how expensive it was (a fact Uzatei Kotetsu took some pride in. He spared no expense in his craft, even long before he had started his piece). Then, Muramasa would drop it, shattering it on the ground. Without Kotetsu there, would Enoshima expectedly laugh at the man in his despair? Or would she go beyond Uzatei's understanding and show him pity? Uzatei smirked at the thought.
As Enoshima tapped at her cellphone for a moment, Uzatei began to move away, explaining, "I'm going to have a smoke, if you'd give me a moment..." At his words, Enoshima's eyes seemed to glint for a moment, and she nodded, closing her phone before slipping it into her chest. Not minding that he was able to get away from her for a brief time, Uzatei shuffled away, turning the corner around a staircase to another level of nearby road, taking a slightly roundabout point to another corner from which she could observe. After waiting a moment, he watched as Muramasa moved in. He couldn't hear their words due to the bustle of the street, but he could see them quite clearly.
Muramasa approached Junko with a warm smile on his face. He motioned to his camera, the strap angling at its side, to which Junko responded with a nod and a smile, saying something as she took off her scarf, slinging it over her shoulder. She posed gracefully as Muramasa took a few pictures. Uzatei had to admit, she was quite good at this: if he did design something for her, she'd probably wear it well.
Then, the all-important event truly began: Muramasa tripped over his own feet as he strafed to get another shot, camera being flung in the air. However, by the time he began to fall, Enoshima Junko was already in motion. Whipping her scarf up, the tip seemed to curl through the open loop of the camera before Enoshima snatched her hand out, grabbing the airborne end. Holding both ends up, the camera slid down, held up by the strap, being suspended in midair, surviving the fall without a scratch. Uzatei felt his jaw drop as a few people who'd seen gave gasps of shock, or even applauded the feat as Enoshima smiled, untangling the scarf and strap, handing the camera back to Muramasa, whom was flushed with either affection or embarrassment. As Muramasa scampered off, the plan a failure, Uzatei tried not to laugh: the outcome had been far more outlandish and entertaining than he could have dreamed.
Hiding his amusement, Uzatei retraced his steps, returning to find the girl back on her phone again, a few still watching the model. At his approach, Junko looked up at him and smiled, asking in an sickeningly sweet voice, "Reeeeeaaady?" With a curt nod, Uzatei led the way, moving towards the station once more. They arrived in minutes, but on their way to purchase a ticket, Enoshima began to look around, waving for Uzatei to follow. Confused, the man complied, being led to an unmarked door, turning to Uzatei with a single finger over her mouth, saying with a wink, "Secret~"
Before Uzatei could object, Enoshima obscured the doorknob with her form, and after a moment, opened it, beckoning for Uzatei to follow. The Fashion Designer raised an eyebrow, before saying incredulously, "And what have we here?"
Enoshima snickered, "I'm cheating!"
"And it was going so well too..." Uzatei sighed sarcastically. Turning, he began, "I see little reason to escort you any farther, you silly girl. Don't worry though, I'll make your outfit. You amused me with that scarf trick, I'll give you that."
Enoshima pouted, "You're no gentlemen." Not paying her any more mind, Uzatei simply kept on his path, leaving the mischievous girl to her misdeeds glad to be gone of her.
Uzatei would craft for Enoshima Junko a marvelous dress, largely considered one of his finest pieces yet, the thought tormenting Uzatei that such work was wasted. Said feelings would be doubled years later, after he was inducted into Future Foundation and discovered the girl at the heart of everything in the newly ruined world.
More trivia for this round: pastebin(.com)/dTmsiUes
One more to go, thank you for reading!