Asura

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

introduce a little pickle juice. upset the established order.
and everything becomes chaos.

---

It may have been a testament to Ryusei's suspicious nature that the blinding smile Ariyoshi gave him in response stoked the fires of his unease. The glint in her eye certainly didn't help that, betraying her intentions despite the airy persona she put on. What was the saying? It was always the quiet ones? Their host certainly hadn't been very quiet since their arrival, but she was rather soft spoken, and the disarming way she conducted herself fit the image of a sweet, docile girl. He didn't trust that. Not at all. Especially when he was in such a compromising position. Wasn't tea supposed to be a relaxing thing to have?

He should've guessed that, even with his small victory of shifting the focus of their little talk elsewhere, there would come another jab. Asking him which one he'd rather sit with? What kind of Machiavellian scheming was this? Why not just stab him in the throat right then and there? Usually, when you went on a date—which this was not, he reminded himself—you just sat across from your partner. That way you could chat with them without feeling too crowded. It stood to reason, then, that sitting across from Shiori would be the correct choice. But, in doing so, he would have to state his intention to sit next to Ariyoshi, which could definitely be taken as him choosing the ginger he just met over the ginger he came in with. Not to mention how small the booth was; it might not have stood out to a normal person, but as someone who had spent the majority of his young life banging his head on door frames and having to squeeze into desks, he was acutely aware of how much space he took up. This was gonna be a tight fit.

He was over redheads, he decided. They were proving to be too much work. Shooting Ariyoshi a glare, the teen decided he would at least try to deny her whatever amusement she was deriving from fucking with him. He placed his hand on the table of the booth, sliding himself into the right side.

"Don't really care either way," He lied, putting on his best disinterested face. Which, considering his general disdain for most people, was usually pretty convincing. "Pick whichever side you want."

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

introduce a little pickle juice. upset the established order.
and everything becomes chaos.

---

So this was what it was like, was it? It didn't exactly take a genius to see what the proprietor's daughter had gotten up to. She was teasing them, though the majority of her comments seemed to be aimed at Shiori, who took to huffing like she normally did when he took a few shots at her. He couldn't say he much liked being on the receiving end of it—though the way his otherwise pale cheeks tinted with the flush of embarrassment said otherwise. How the hell was he supposed to respond to that? It wasn't even anything especially scandalous. She just said that he looked nice. That they both looked nice. Together. Was he so starved for praise that even a simple compliment put him on the back foot like that?

"Thanks, I guess..." The way he muttered his response, scratching at the back of his head as if to distract himself from the comment, was more than answer enough. It was totally understandable to be a little off balance when you had not one, but two girls offering their appreciation. Anybody would be embarrassed if put in that spot!

Deciding he needed to assert some level of control over the situation and wrest the reins back from Ariyoshi, Ryusei scoffed, and turned to glance at the many empty booths on offer. "Why don't we go find somewhere to sit? Don't wanna clog up the counter an' all."

Pokémon Showdown! [Invite Only]

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

introduce a little pickle juice. upset the established order.
and everything becomes chaos.

---

As the seconds ticked on, Ryusei found himself growing impatient. How long did it take to figure out what you wanted to order? He knew girls tended to be indecisive, but there was only so much on the menu. Before he could do something stupid and hurry her along, however, another approached the duo. He hadn't formally met her, but he was almost positive he had seen her somewhere around the school. Hell, she was probably in their class, if he managed to recognize her face at all, as he understandably didn't spend much of the week attempting to meet new people. Now that they had been formally introduced, she certainly made an impression; her smile made him uneasy, if only because he was unused to seeing it plastered on the faces of people just meeting him. Not if they weren't trying to work some kind of angle.

"Nice to meet you," He offered, although it was a tad curt compared to how warmly she had welcomed him. Perhaps that curtness was well earned, as no sooner than he had given her his response, she decided to pipe up and mention the damn date thing again. He knew the optics of the situation were obvious enough—why else would he constantly feel the need to remind himself it wasn't one?—but she didn't need to go saying it out loud. Dating meant he was interested in her, interested in setting down roots here. That was not something he was trying to do.

"It's uh, not a date," The youth muttered, suppressing any possible heat in his cheeks through willpower alone. Gramps had already embarrassed him enough that morning, and he didn't need Shiori getting the wrong ideas because he couldn't keep himself in check.

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

introduce a little pickle juice. upset the established order.
and everything becomes chaos.

---

"Don't worry, I'll keep it within regulation."

As much as he would have loved to snark all throughout their journey, it went by quite uneventfully. He was always more of a counter puncher when it came to his little quips, and it seemed Shiori didn't have much in the way to say to him. That was just fine with him, though—her cheeks had nearly matched the hair on her head when they left her place, assuring him his little comment had stuck the landing. Besides, with her focus on their surroundings more than himself, he could sneak a few peaks at her here and there along the way. She did look pretty good outside of that stuffy old uniform.

His opportunities to admire came to an end when they entered the cafe. It was a homely enough joint, and he imagined that was on purpose, to cultivate the kind of vibe that kept people in seats and ordering coffee all day. He had never been much for this kinds of places; as he said before, they always seemed a tad girly for him, and his palate was more accustomed to fried chicken and cheap noodles than the sweet confections on offer up on the menu. As he scanned the board looking for something to fill the growing hole in his stomach, he eventually landed on sandwiches. That couldn't go wrong, could it? How could you fuck up a ham sandwich?

"Yeah, I think I'll have some sandwiches. Two orders, and whatever the tea of the day is." He eventually declared, figuring they'd probably be on the daintier side. If Shiori gave him shit for getting two, well, she'd have to suck it up. Maybe he'd even share with her. Wouldn't that just be romantic?

Not a date, he reminded himself.

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

Albrecht von Varley

_{Interacting with: Nobody & Everybody — Location: Garreg Mach Monastery}

---

Rising early was not a new experience for Albrecht, so when his professor had come to him the day prior with a request to meet before class in the Lion's room, he took it all in stride. An early night led into an early morning, and when the fifth bell chimed, he was already out of bed and washing up by the basin in his dormitory. Adjusting to the size of his new room had taken some time, but after a few weeks, he found the lodgings cozy despite their ascetic bareness. As an aspiring Knight of Seiros, he had made his peace long ago with the idea of barracks life, so his attendance at the officer's academy provided him a rare opportunity to play pretend and wonder what could have been.

After washing, it was time to pray. It was habitual at this point for him to make a quick trip to the monastery's church before class, say a few polite greetings to the clergy there, and engage in some silent contemplation. Today would be no exception, and if anything, Professor Lavender's arrangements made that all the easier—he could take solace in the silence of the still young dawn during his prayer, enjoying the quiet while he offered his devotions to the Goddess. She had been good to him for as long as he had drawn breath, so it the the least he could do to offer her his supplication for an hour of the day. But prayer was hungry work, and by the time he had navigated to the chapel, done his duty, and returned to the brisk air outside, his stomach had set to rumbling.

Mercifully, the cafeteria was on the way to class, and the sixth bell was only just then tolling. Hurrying along, the young noble made way for the place where he had enjoyed many a treat. The smell of freshly baking bread was heavy in the air even as he arrived, a sure sign that the diligent staff had already begun preparing the day's first meal. As he pushed through the doors, he found precious few of the student body there to stand between himself and a well earned pastry. Which, as luck would have it, were just being brought out.

"You've come just in time, m'lord. I've some fresh danishes today, if you'd like first pickings." One of the serving staff welcomed him, a woman whose face he had come to commit to memory. He had always made sure to do the same back at Castle Varley.

"Thank you, Gertrude. I'm sure they're excellent as always." He offered return, a polite smile gracing his fine features. It was good to be good, in all things truly, but especially to those of lower standing. Not least of which because he was almost sure danishes weren't standard fair among the breakfast menu—whether the handful of bakers and servers he had spoken to baked them in honor of his notorious sweet tooth, or it was simply a fortunate occurrence, was up for debate. But he was never one to look a gift horse in its mouth; his morning would be full of flaky, buttery delights, and if he was lucky, the filling would be blackberry.

_________________

The seventh bell came and went just as Albrecht polished off his third blackberry danish, and he made haste in venturing to the classrooms after thanking his hosts for the meal. It wouldn't do to be late for what was undoubtedly a very important lesson, if the professor had been so insistent on his attendance. As he rounded the halls, he idly wondered what it could be exactly that required his specific attention, but as with most things in his life, he simply contented himself with the knowledge that he would face whatever trials were ahead and—Goddess willing—come out on top. He arrived at the Lion's den shortly thereafter.

"Good morning, Professor Lavender," He was quick to greet once he was through the door, among the first individuals there, as expected. "To you as well, Professor Michail, Professor Tomai."

He offered each a bright smile, feeling positively radiant from the ease of the day. Once he had been acknowledged by his betters, he took a seat nearer the front of the room, and awaited his fellows to arrive. How interesting it would be to mingle among classmates he had yet to meet.

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

introduce a little pickle juice. upset the established order.
and everything becomes chaos.

---

Had Shiori not explained the situation to him the day prior, Ryusei might have had the same look of shock on his face as Shimizu did when the door slid open. As he stared down at his fellow transfer, he couldn't help but wonder why the hell she looked so baffled. Had her cousin not bothered to warn her he would be stopping by? He supposed it couldn't be helped. He tended to elicit negative reactions no matter where he went. At least she wasn't cowering behind the frame or threatening to call the cops or something, especially since he was sure she was privy to that god damn article in the paper. Thankfully, the awkward few seconds didn't linger, as the shorter girl processed what was going on.

"Thanks," He muttered in response as the door slid closed. He could make out a few voices behind it, but he didn't care enough to eavesdrop. It was good enough to know that his partner for the day was on her way to meet him. The sooner they got this over with, the better. When the door opened a second time, he was greeted with a more familiar face.

A face which caused him to fight back a grin. He wasn't the only one who agonized over what to wear, was he? Most girls his age wore at least a little makeup, that was true, but he hadn't caught as much as a hint on Shiori's face throughout the week. That absence made its presence now obvious, even for someone like him. Plus, she had gone out of her way to wear a skirt without the school forcing her. He wanted to make fun of her for it, honestly, but eventually decided against it. Hadn't he brooded over the idea of her doing the same to him just an hour or two prior?

"Hey. Don't worry about it, I don't mind." Her cousin wasn't exactly a priority of his in that moment. After working himself up on what to wear and how to present himself, he was relieved to see she had also put in a little work of her own. It deserved a comment of some kind.

"You look... nice" He eventually decided, his glower having softened just enough to impart some sincerity. He proceeded to lean to the side just a tad, as if to appraise her in her entirety, although he made no attempt to hide where his eyes went. It was a much shorter skirt, after all.

"Real nice. I approve."

He couldn't fight back the devilish grin that tugged at his features if he tried at that crack, even if he was too tall to glance much more than a little thigh. Content that the very implication would fluster her good and proper, he decided to turn back towards the street, his hands finding their way into the pockets of his jacket.

"Let's get going. I have no clue where this place is, so you'll have to lead the way."

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

introduce a little pickle juice. upset the established order.
and everything becomes chaos.

---

The sun rose above Utsubyo—although you could hardly tell with the incessant cloud cover—and with it, Ryusei as well. It was damn annoying to be up so early, especially on a Saturday of all things, but a week packed to the brim with both physical labor and emotional strain had left him dog tired. It certainly didn't help that he, predictably, was met with more work when he arrived home. Lugging around top soil and tearing weeds all evening sure as shit wasn't going to help him in the boxing ring for all his grandfather's insistence, but it did drain him of what little energy he had left to give, and after some quick takeout from the local Chinese place, he ended up drifting into to a well-earned sleep hours earlier than normal.

Then the interruption to his rest came, in the form of a text from the girl who had occupied much of his time since his arrival in town. It must have come in just shy of midnight, and he barely remembered reading it before rolling back into his blankets and sheets. A quick glance back at the device confirmed it hadn't just been a vague dream; she wanted to meet up at her house at one. So much for relaxing during his day off. It was all the same anyway, as he doubted his grandfather would just let him laze around the house all day. Having a young back around the place must have lit a flame under the old man's ass, and suddenly there was no end to the number of projects to be accomplished around the aging house that had been his home for as long as Ryusei could remember.

Why the hell his grandparents had bought such a big place was beyond him, especially in retirement. That was usually the time for downsizing, for making things more manageable. Instead, the place was half a god damn castle, complete with inner garden and way too many rooms. He admittedly enjoyed it when he was young—to an apartment dweller from the big city, going out to the countryside felt like visiting a palace with how spacious it was. But now that he was partially responsible for its upkeep, he almost missed the crowded little three bedroom back in Kobe. At least he could fit in the bathtub here.

Something he made sure to take advantage of. Between drills at the club, helping out around the house, and all the walking he needed to do to get anywhere out in the boonies, he was sore, and nothing helped melt away the tension like a good soak. Gramps had undoubtedly gone off to settle whatever affairs he had in town for the morning, so he could spend at least an hour boiling himself like a crab in a much too hot bath. It also gave him a chance to stew in his own thoughts as much as he stewed in the water, contemplating the day to come. He hadn't expected Shiori to take him up on his absentminded little comment so soon. Sure, she had no friends, but she really wanted to spend the weekend with him? They had just spent Friday together, and most of the lunch breaks of the week smoking out in the school parking lot. Then there was club, where they didn't so much interact as simply exist in each other's company.

Hadn't she gotten sick of him? He never made for very good company—even yesterday, he struggled to find anything interesting to say. Maybe she had some vague hope of getting him to pay for her food? Being some chick's meal ticket wasn't exactly on his agenda, especially when they weren't even an item. Of course, that line of thought led to him pondering whether she had gotten the wrong idea with his snarky little comments. They did seem to fluster her pretty thoroughly, which was half the reason he even made them in the first place. But he was the new 'ogre', as he had so kindly heard one of his classmates mutter in the halls. He doubted she'd want to make eyes at someone like him. Hell, half the girls back in Kobe were probably too terrified of him to approach, or reciprocate if he approached. Even his own parents didn't want him anymore; what hope did he have for finding some fairy tale, countryside fling during his exile?

As his thoughts continued to spiral, the joy of the bath was quickly lost. He knew there was a reason he didn't often allow himself to fall into silent contemplation, and it took until he allowed himself to sink into it for him to remember. It always came back to whining, self-deprecating bullshit. It pissed him off! There was shit to be done still, and he had a date to prepare for. Not a date. An outing. He needed to dry off and get ready.

Clothing? He hadn't brought much down with him when he left home. Just a few suitcases. The school had provided uniforms, and he didn't exactly have high hopes for his social life, so there wasn't anything fancy. Aside from his Church clothes, but he wasn't dressing up in his Sunday best for a fucking tea date. Not that it was a date. Still, he didn't want to look like a total bum when he showed up to her place. The girl had a sharp tongue, and he didn't need her mocking him for his choice of street wear. A nice t-shirt, some good jeans, his only pair of sneakers. The hoodie would need to come too; it was his favorite, big and comfortable and looked damn good on him, if he was so bold as to say.

It was only when he looked in the mirror that he realized he had been pondering for at least a couple minutes, and that only pissed him off more. Why did it matter what she thought? It was her idea to go. She was lucky he was putting aside time for her in the first place. A brief stomp off back to his room saw him dressed in record time. Then, it was back to the mirror. He needed to do something with his hair. He had let it grow out the last couple of years, to the point where it reached below his jawline when he left it down and damp as it was now. The school admins hated it, but that was half the point, really. There had been a compromise struck wherein if he kept it up during school hours, he could keep it at that length, and so he had kept it tied back for most of the week. That meant Shiori hadn't ever seen it let down. Did he really wanna leave it like that? It looked like a mop, long and silky but inexplicably wild despite that. Maybe she'd be into that? Or maybe she was one of those girls who liked a tidy man.

He spent another five minutes pulling it back and letting it down before irritation overtook him again. Who even fucking cared?! It didn't matter whether or not she liked his hair, it wasn't a fucking date, and if he had to put an iota more thought into how good he looked, he was going to kick his own ass. He eventually decided on a half-measure, pulled up into a ponytail with some messy locks left to spill out here and there. Messy, but just clean enough to look like he put in effort. Between it and the cold, disinterested eyes that stared back at him from the mirror, there was no way she would get his intentions mixed. Plus, he looked damn good. She'd be lucky if it were a date.

A few spritzes of cologne later and he felt better than he had back in the tub. It was a new day, it was still early, and he had plenty of time to leisurely retrace his steps to the Himawari household. He considered breakfast, briefly, but decided against it. They were going to a cafe, weren't they? He could just get something there. Something to help get the taste of the tea out of his mouth if it ended up sucking. He thumbed a few extra bills from the stack when he returned back to his room, figuring it was best to account for additional expenses. Most teens would have felt blessed to have a surplus of weekly cash on hand, but looking at the wad of paper in his hands only reminded him of what he had lost, and he tossed it back onto the windowsill where it had come, tucking a portion of his nest egg into his wallet for the day. He was ready.

Of course, as was so often the case, his plans hadn't gone off without a hitch. By the time he navigated the halls of his new home and got back out into the main room, his grandfather had returned, sitting at the low table in the center with the daily paper.

"Where you headed?" The older gentleman rumbled, not bothering to look up from his paper as he acknowledged his grandson's presence.

"Out," Ryusei answered tersely, although he thought better of the curtness in his voice after a moment, "Going to have tea with a friend."

"A girl friend." The response was quick to strike Ryusei just where it hurt, and he grimaced at the implication.

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to. I can smell you from over here. It's a girl."

The teen didn't justify that with a response. He hadn't put in any more effort getting ready than he would have with any of his boys. The hell was wrong with smelling good? He didn't even care whether or not she liked it—although he hadn't said a word, the whirl of his internal thoughts undoubtedly fulfilled the old man's ambition, and he could practically feel his grandfather grinning like a devil behind that paper.

"Whatever. I'll be back by dinner." There was an indignity in his tone that betrayed the flush growing on his cheeks, and he could only thank the Utsubyo Chronicle for being so engrossing as to hide that from his grandpa's eagle eyes as he stomped his way through the open shuji and into the yard beyond.

______________________

It was a small mercy that Shiori's house was a fair walk from his own. The cool spring afternoon gave him time to cool his head and his cheeks, and by the time he had arrived at the quaint little townhouse she called home, he was back to his usual self, all scowls and glares and bad attitude. Seeing it with the benefit of a full day's sun was interesting enough, as it gave him a better idea of her living situation—his family was in the business of real estate, after all. He knew it wasn't the house she had grown up in, but her aunt must have been pretty well off to afford rent on this place every month without struggling. Maybe she lived in a bigger city, where money came easier, but that only beggared why she would send her daughter out to this place for a school year. Had she done something wrong to warrant it?

He shook his head. He wasn't there for that ginger. He was there for Shiori, and a quick look at his phone informed him that it was getting dangerously close to one o'clock. So he trudged his way through the open front gates and to the door, rapping his knuckles against it to alert those within to his presence.

"C'mon already. I don't got all day."

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

introduce a little pickle juice. upset the established order.
and everything becomes chaos.

---

Ryusei hadn't honestly expected Shiori to throw herself at Machiba with such ferocity—wasn't he supposed to be the impulsive one? Sure, the kid had strolled up on them in the middle of a confrontation waving his phone around and declaring he'd call the police, but usually he at least gave people a warning before he proceeded to pummel them into the dirt. He supposed her paranoia was well founded enough, considering the front facing camera, and the fact only days earlier they had been victim of an unwanted series of creep shots. Taken by Nakano, who he only realized was no longer restrained a precious few seconds after the girl had made her mad dash to get away.

"You little cunt——"

He considered, briefly, running her down, or maybe just grabbing a nearby rock to bean her in the ass with. But to what end? Threats of violence and broken bones didn't seem to deter her. He'd have to find a way to hurt her elsewhere. If he didn't, he'd have to put up with her incessantly stalking him both inside and outside of school, and if his own disciplinary record was anything to go by, trying to involve any kind of authority would probably just see her promoted to head of the journalism club. As he ruminated on how to handle the Nakano issue, Shiori seemed to come to her senses, and came wandering over to him, looking bizarrely pathetic for someone who had just floored two of her classmates without too much in the way of resistance.

"It's fine. Whatever message you were trying to send wasn't gonna land with her anyway," He admitted, taking a last drag from his cigarette, "Still, woulda been nice to get a few more licks in before she scurried off. Karma, and all that."

With the last of his cigarette burning precariously close to his fingers, he flicked the still lit butt at Yun, and tucked his hands into his pockets. It was probably best to head home and get himself washed up before the old man realized he was back. Plus, the vibe had been thoroughly killed by their unwanted visitors, so he doubted there'd be much in the way of jovial discussion with his ginger companion. He turned to go, but as he did so, he spotted something in the grass. A pair of glasses, tragically left behind during their owner's hurried retreat. His initial instinct was to step on them. Just shatter them in a petty attempt to hurt the would-be journalist, in whatever small way he could. Glasses were expensive, and this town was pretty backwater. Maybe her folks would struggle to replace them, choosing between what few luxuries they could afford in this town and their daughter's sight.

As he lifted his foot to bring financial strain upon the Nakano household, he got a better idea. Instead, he reached down and gingerly scooped them up, folding the still outstretched arms inwards. They were of more use to him in tact, especially if he could pull off what he was thinking of. As he tucked them into his pocket, the teen turned back to Shiori.

"C'mon, I'll walk you home." He said, gesturing towards the park's exit with his neck before looking towards the only remaining interloper, "And don't you fuckin' follow, numb nuts, or I really will ass fuck you with that phone."

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

introduce a little pickle juice. upset the established order.
and everything becomes chaos.

---

Accent? The fuck did she mean accent? That was the pot calling the kettle black. He couldn't tell which offended him more, the egregiousness of her own butchered speech—was she from fucking Fukushima or something?—or the way she incessantly decided to show it off. Talk talk talk talk fucking talk. From the very second Shiori had laid hands on her collar the damn girl wouldn't shut the fuck up. Maybe he could have understood it, the panic of somebody facing down someone who could break them like a particularly flimsy stick, if it was just panicked pleading. But she wasn't here to plead for mercy. She was here to stir up more shit! Acting like she was doing them a favor, trying to spin the story in her favor. Oh, she might not have been a journalist yet, but she had the demeanor down pat. A slimy little parasite, looking to squirm its way out of the consequence of a good feeding.

He could practically feel the vein in his forehead throb as he listened and listened, the cigarette he had so gingerly plucked earlier hanging from his lips limp as he stared in a mixture of indignity and disbelief. When it became clear she had finally finished with her pitch, he reached up and seized it, took a deep, full breath that saw damn near a quarter of it flare to life then dissipate into ash, then held for a precious moment. He savored that moment, the calming buzz, helping cool his own burning temper to embers before he released it all in one long, drawn out stream.

Then, Yun arrived.

"Shut the FUCK up, Mashida!" Ryusei practically boomed, his anger with ever more ferocity as he jabbed the cigarette accusingly in his classmate's general direction. This wasn't about him, and it was a damn good thing it wasn't, or his fucking viewers would be receiving a thorough exploration of his colon. He then whirred back towards Kanna, cigarette trailing smoke as he pointed it at her.

"You too. You, you I don't like. Not at all. It's bad enough your dumb ass decided to ruin my fuckin' reputation day one of the school year. But then you show up trying to sell it to me like you did me a favor? The only person you did a favor for was yourself. I'm sure you or your club cronies have some bullshit excuse cooked up, 'oh, you deserved it, you needed to be punished' or 'poor Sakaguchi deserved justice'. Shit not even you believe. You don't care about exposing the truth, or justice, or whatever the fuck coat of paint you put on it to attract freshmen. You're a fuckin' vulture, looking for carrion to pick at 'til it's clean. You come here, and instead of just taking your fucking lumps for doing what you know was messed up," He thrust the smoking shaft at her a few more times as he emphasized his words, throwing ash all about the place as he did, "You try to worm your way out of an ass kicking by spinning what you were already gonna do to us like you're cutting us a break. I guaran-fucking-tee that regardless of whether or not you leave here with all your teeth, you'll be outside that club room, taking creep shots, covering the matches and putting whatever title you think will sell your shitty little paper all over them."

Perhaps realizing he had been doing exactly what he had lambasted her for doing in his mind just moments prior, he stopped his tirade to take another deep draw from the cancer stick between his fingers. Another cooling rush, although one he didn't let linger for as long, spewing smoke as he continued rather than give her a single inch to wriggle further during his exhale.

"You should be grateful, for the first time in your sad little life, for that hole between your legs. Because it's the only reason you aren't picking your teeth out of the mulch right now, you understand?" It was a rhetorical question. He had made peace with the fact that his threats weren't going to do much to deter her—he had not a single doubt in his mind that the cast she sported had been well earned, and despite its presence, she still went on to push her luck.

"A fate, I should note," He turned a second time, this time back to Yun, his cigarette swaying in the surfer's general direction animatedly as he continued to talk, "That you will not be spared if I catch so much of a fucking whiff of you filming this. I only hit Sakaguchi once. He got off light compared to what I'll do to you."