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So much has happened in what? Six months? A year? Has it even been that long? What the hell was time anyways?
It was one thing to be born into one of the largest crime syndicates in the world, having your mother despise you with each inch of her being and then dying, a large colored tattoo being drawn on your back by the age of seven, and having to fulfill the expectations of everyone around you. It was another befriending a gentleman thief and his company.
The particular mafia princess in this story, who was born with the toughest skin, never took the time to process the way her life was set up for her. She never had the chance. Being born in an underground, castle-like plaza that was hidden behind and under a Chinese butcher shop should raise some questions at least. But, no. It was completely normal for her. It was completely normal for a mother to beat their child with a glass bottle because she wouldn't leave her alone. It was normal for a child to get an extremely detailed tattoo to decorate the entirety of her back with a tiny one plastered on her neck. Was it normal for a child to grow up unafraid of death, laughing in its face? Sure.
Completely normal.
"....No the fuck its not," Monet Ota eventually whispered to herself after a half an hour of silence. The wind responded to her own whisper, blowing the hair out of her face as she stared out onto the empty landscape before her. She frowned deeply, everything finally dawning on her. "What the fuck..."
Monet did not notice the rapid sound of distant footsteps until her name was called out by a familiar voice. She turned around, bright hazel eyes meeting chocolate brown ones. The eyes were wide with excitement as it awaited to tell whatever was on its mind.
"Monet, there you are!" the owner of these eyes exclaimed. "You disappeared on me. Man, for a hideout this place sure as hell is huge."
She didn't respond, which instantly set off an alarm in the man's radar. He carefully approached her, eventually standing beside her in comfortable silence. Monet let her stare linger for a moment longer before looking ahead of her once more.
"Lupin," she began. "Would you call your life normal?"
Lupin gave his friend an inquisitive sideglance before looking up, taking in the sudden question.
"Hm, let's see... What would be your definition of normal?"
Silence fell once again. The young woman's brain began racking for an answer but could find nothing to respond with. She was stumped. Lupin took this opportunity and chuckled.
"Tough question, isn't it?"
Monet looked at him now with a soft frown, her eyebrows creasing together to signify the troublesome mental jails he had recently built herself. Her cheeks warmed up slightly, feeling slightly frustrated. Lupin glanced at her again before smiling sympathetically. It took a bit not to pinch the woman's cheek and coo at her; she was cute when she pouted.
"Come on, don't give me that look. You're not usually like this," Lupin noted. "Before a heist, too? It must be serious."
"I've just been thinking a lot, that's all."
"About what?"
"Things."
"Things like?"
"Personal things!"
Lupin raised both of his hands in surrender with a snicker. Monet huffed out of annoyance, her cheeks growing redder. Caving in, Lupin reached towards Monet, much to her confusion. His hands soon came in contact with both sides of her face, squishing lightly against her cheeks. Lupin beamed at her while she simply glared at him, not knowing what to make of the situation.
"Don't be so flustered, dear. Frankly, this isn't your usual look."
"D-Dear!?"
"But you're so cute sometimes! Even when you're troubled."
Was he being serious right now!? Monet thought, unable to dispute verbally. Lupin eventually loosened his grip on her face, but still kept his hands gingerly placed, his smiling growing softer. The sudden serious look took the Afro-Brazilian Japanese by surprise as she waited for whatever came next.
"The people in our lives don't necessarily have 'normal' lives. None of us do. Normal can mean a lot of different things to different people. It's up to you o define what your normal is and whether it can change or not."
"Lupin..." Monet took this time to carefully process Lupin's wise advice, slightly taken aback by his wisdom. Truth became prominent in his words. She had been so fixated on what she was supposed to do, supposed to be in life that she never got the chance to realize what she wanted, what was right, and what was wrong. As a child, growing up to become a literal mobster was not, in fact, normal in a stereotypical life expectancy. But it had to become normal to her. Becoming a female mafia leader wasn't normal either. But it was her job to make it normal, based on her father's wishes.
Monet Ota's family and life has been filled with anguish, attempted love, and heartbreak. But that did not mean that set normalcy has to stay normal forever.
The poor woman was suddenly brought out of her own thoughts in an abrupt surprise. Blinking, she began to process what was happening.
Soft...Warm... Wai--
Mocha skin began a beaming red, her thick curly hair becoming static. Monet froze as her heart momentarily stopped and time itself as Lupin's lips lingered on her cheek. He softly kissed her just centimeters away from her lips. He was content while Monet quickly became an emotional wreck.
Daisuke Jigen and Lorenzo Ota calmly made their way up the stairwell, leading up to the garden roof.
"They should probably be here, right?
"That damn Lupin is always running off somewhere--"
The two men froze and stared blankly at the scene before them, not knowing whether to interrupt or not. Watching Lupin calmly kiss a mobster's face was definitely something new for Jigen. He was actually quite impressed, for Monet strayed away from his normal type.
"Lu..."
The content man hummed in delight before a fist collided with his abdomen, immediately knocking the wind out of him. As he sunk to the ground, Lupin groaned in agony. Monet stood above him, her fist remaining tightly balls up as she glowered deeply at him with fire in her eyes. Her sharpened canines bared furiously as she seethed, all while her face blushed redder than a tomato.
"LUPIN!! DO I FUCKING LOOK LIKE FUJIKO MINE!?"
The unresponsive Lupin remained goofily spread on the ground, subconscious. Jigen rubbed the bridge of his nose in exhaustion, feeling embarrassed for his best friend while Lorenzo deadpanned at the scene.
"Oblivious idiots..."