Chapter Text
2-- Everywhere, everyone knows it's me.
I'll give you one more chance
To say we can change our old ways
The previous night and the early hours of the morning were exhausting for both the caretaker and the mistress; clothes for god-knows-how-long were ironed and folded into sets of twelve, eight done by Sebastian’s hand and four by Lili’s (convincing him to let her help ate up another half hour of time— it was Lili that wanted to go on this ‘trip’, so, putting her father’s plan to have her mature as a person into use, she took it upon herself to at least lessen her companion’s burden). Arguments with her father were fought via téléphone, “What do you mean ‘I can’t go to Osaka again’?”, “Why do you insist on having me call you? You’re…— you’re three floors and a bedroom up, for heaven’s sake!” “Father, I hate you. I’m going and there’s nothing you can do to stop me!”, followed by overlays of “Mademoiselle Lili, which stuffed animals do you want me to take as your carry on items?”
By the time they found themselves in their respective seats on board the aircraft, the pair were utterly exhausted. The seats were not the ones they paid for. Either there had been a sudden onset of people dying to make their way to Kansai International Airport as fast as humanly possible, or the airline had issued out more tickets than they had space— in any case, Emilie de Rochefort and her faithful steward Sebastian found themselves approximately three aisles apart, the sweet, alien comfort of working class caressing the blonde’s thighs.
Slender fingers pushed oversized sunglasses over her head before massaging her close-by left temple; Lili tried her best to stare her message into the back of Sebastian’s head—
He wouldn’t let us take the private jet.
He wouldn’t let us take the private jet.
He wouldn’t let us take the private jet.
He wouldn’t let us take th—
A well placed jab to the side animated her once again; the action was quickly followed by several tugs to the hem of her gray tank. Small hands wrapped around the article of clothing, those she perceived to belong to someone a little older than five.
"Hey, Big Sis."
The monegasque forced herself to look at the surrounding passengers for the first time. Lili sat at the right end of the middle row, the little girl who spoke out earlier to her direct left, a business man in a button-up reading the flight magazine another space over. “Hey…are you listening?” the voice called out once again. The fighter turned at the torso, facing the child; perhaps the little one was attracted to the natural elegance that seeped out into the atmosphere through the holes in her aura? The numerous skills she was born with? Her paralyzing beauty?
Lili composed herself, making sure to keep her voice as cheery and as suitable for the situation as possible— she didn’t even want to think about what happened the last time she interacted with a child. She switched her tongue to standard Japanese; if she was to get ready for various encounters with Asuka Kazama, she might as well start now. ”Ah, yes! You’ll have to excuse me for my rude behavior. What is it?” Cobalt eyes blinked twice, staring into her. The child was clearly proceeding with caution; black pigtails sprouted out from either side of her head. Someone returning home.
"I was just wondering why your face looks like that."
Lili Rochefort would be calm. She would remain calm through this. This…child does not know any better. Because…she is a child. Just a child.
"L-like…what? Is there something on my face?" Lili couldn’t help but grin triumphantly after speaking; an uncomfortable contrast to the words she had spoken.
'It may not seem like it, but I've already memorized and learned the basics of the Japanese language, including but not limited to these types of phrases. This should make you understand your mistake. Are you stunned? Surprised? My knowledge is akin that of an infinity pool—'
“Like,” The girl emphasized her words with the swing of her legs, rhythmically hitting the occupied seat in front of her. “Why your hair is all yellow and stuff. And why your eyes are all blue like that. And.” A pause. “Um…oh, right. Why you’re so tall?”
Lili breathed out a sigh of relief. ‘That’s right! That’s really all it was. How foolish of me.’
"Petite fille. First, tell me your name." Lili almost scolded herself for exposing her french roots through language; the switch back to japanese was a struggle, tongue stumbling back into the correct form.
"You speak funny," Another pause, this one lasting a whole note rest. "…Not telling."
The young lady made a mental note to try and stay on the girl’s good side— the remarks tinted with a special sort of childlike cruelty could later be traded for easier communication with her beloved.
"Then, what am I supposed to call you?"
The girl analyzed her vibrant pink nails, rotating her hand at the wrist this way and that.
"…Bartholomew."
And so, the fourteen hour flight to Osaka began.
Lili and Sebastian stumbled into the terminal, reuniting with a glance and a slight bow from the latter after swimming through the sea of people exiting the aircraft. The majority of Lili’s side of the flight resulted in chatting and gossiping with “Bartholomew”; she would show the blonde the array of stuffed animals she had bought with her, to which the fighter replied by pulling out a miniature owl (she always kept it handy during travel; for good luck) out of her handbag with a grin. By the end of the journey, the two were sleeping next to each other, sharing a blanket the color of pale sunshine. Lili saw her off at the gate, Bartholomew waving goodbye to her with her free left hand— the other was held by a woman in a business suit.
'What a striking little girl,' It had been more than forty minutes since then; Sebastian accompanied her in their short excursion out of the airport, attracting a number of stares along the way. It was then that the butler said something that broke her out of her reverie.
"I’m sorry, Sebastian, could you repeat that?"
The butler adjusted his frames, shuffling through the papers in his hands with every stride he took, hoping to find the sheet he had track of just a moment ago. His mistress had offered to take half of them— and god forbid, all of them— a multitude of times. Needless to say, Sebastian had refused. He would do the errands, the simple things, just as he always did; Miss Lili was to focus only on her goal. He would not let anything as thin as paper get in her way.
"Very well. Excuse me, then. According to Miss Kazama’s school website, she leaves school at four thirty everyday— she doesn’t seem to be in any clubs. Would you like me to call the limousine that’s been prepared to let the chauffeur know that we’re arriving?"
Blue eyes shimmered for a moment, freshly glossed lips turning up at the corners before verbalizing a reply. “No, there’s no need for that,” Lili pursed her lips before continuing, evening out the sparkly layer. A sudden burst of confidence washed over her; the first part of her plan was in motion, and she had the person she trusted the most in the world to help her go through with it.
"Wouldn’t it be so much more stimulating to catch her off guard in her moment of weakness? Asuka Kazama biking home, the orange sunset behind her; thoughts faraway as she remains completely oblivious of my forthcoming attacks.”
Asuka Kazama had been out of school for no longer than twenty minutes before she had found trouble; they came in the form of petty thieves, and dumb ones at that. Who in their right mind still attempts to steal a schoolgirl’s bag? As far as she was concerned, people stopped pulling that one five years ago. It wasn’t long before the group was splattered on the ground, all but piled on top of each other. “Funny," The girl mused. “They were a lot tougher than they looked.”
Don’t get her wrong— she wasn’t complimenting them. Frankly, they looked scrawny as hell; the type of guys Asuka could snap in half between her pinkie and ring finger. That’s why she was surprised after one of them had managed to struggle back up after a roundhouse kick to the solar plexus, mumbling something about how she had dirtied his dress pants before promptly falling back over. Asuka had seen that kind of resolve and stamina among her eighth kyū students— it was expected to be a basic skill after that.
Athletic legs clad in crew socks worked their way up the hill of the riverbank. Asuka wasn’t sure how they had gotten there in the first place; she left them to lie there, admiring the peach soda sunset at her side, mind floating adrift with thoughts of what amazing instant food she would have to eat this time around.
'Why am I thinking about that now? That's after I have to sub the kids' lesson again.' Yeah, right. That’s if she could even call it ‘subbing’. It was more like she had taken over the dojo as it’s new successor.
Asuka thought back to the morning she had found the post-it note stuck to her breakfast, protected from the elements with plastic wrap. Sirens went off in her head almost immediately; where was her father, and why had he wrapped a couple of omelettes and had them stored instead of being there to grace the kitchen upon her awakening? How long had he been gone? The student took a deep breath before picking up the note with steady hands— she was more than sure she knew what this was about. The dojo had been struggling financially for months; not to mention they had been waiting for the new shipments of foot guards for over two weeks. That meant one of two things:
1. They were completely goddamn broke. The foot guards couldn’t cost anymore than 7,000 yen at most; just how the hell were they staying alive?
2. Her father was either unable to or refused to pay the bill.
The note itself was painfully short— it almost felt as if it lacked the weight necessary for the expected contents. Regardless, she could feel it weigh her down within the pockets of her pleated skirt. Every rustle sounded like a wave crashing against the shore; Asuka sighed as she pulled it out for what seemed to be the twenty-fifth time. The neon green hue was accentuated by the sun, making her all too aware of how deep his indentations were. He was so stupid, really.
'Asuka. I'll be gone for an uncertain amount of time. It's the dojo's debt. Take care of everything— there should be a decent amount of food in the pantry.'
The fighter crumpled the note up for the last time before tossing it into a trashcan. It had been three days since that morning. “God. There’s no reason for him to act like that when it’s clear he’s scared out of his pants.”
Asuka hummed to herself for a while; if only she had her bike. Where had that gone to? She would have been home by now with it's help.
"…Must be nice to have money like blondie during times like these."