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At twenty years old, almost finished with her studies of Business and Management does one Nijiima Ibuki pause and think.
Just what have I been doing all this time?
That single line of thought brought onto her a moment of pondering and self reflection. That, ah, maybe, things weren’t all that bad. That, her sitting alone deep into the process of hitting the books would make her forget about the grievances that’s been nagging on her mind and subconsciousness. There really is too much to sift through before one could possibly pinpoint the exact moment in time that she’s turned into this… This path.
Which reminded her that back in high school known for its fine arts program, she pondered why didn’t she actually go full commitment on the music industry? Well, she did in fact try on doing something close to it. After all, auditioning and failing numerous talent calls should count for something. Well those things doesn’t really matter anyway considering her current perseverance on the business track. Which is strange considering she had some bright and sparkling rapport when it came to being a sports team manager for her club, so with that considered, she also wondered on why she didn’t consider going down on that path too.
But, the point is! Even without the pressure of society and being the picture of perfection hoisted on her shoulders, Ibuki does feel like she should fulfill some sort of grand goal for her future. She was told that she had a gift, or something of the like, especially upon entering a prestigious school and subsequently the higher educations after that. But, knowing how life has turned out to be, Ibuki knew that those are mostly things said by teachers to appease her parents after displays of her diligence and perseverance through many things.
Thought it did led her to believe that she was in some way above the average. Her interest in sports extended to martial arts and with it, came her knowledge of how to handle her body and a lot of weapons. Lethally included, of course. After all, one could never be too sure with self defense right? …well, some occasions did happen where she had to practice those knowledge on unsuspecting perpetrators of crime who thought she’s a defenseless young girl.
Serves them right! She would say as she knocked off their knives and twisted their arm until they cried “Uncle!” where she’d then have someone near the scene call the police. Or just outright hand them over. With those victories, of course came the confidence for her to take up the challenge provided by sports competitions. But, of course with the first victory, came the expectations everyone had on her to win the next one. From this club to that club, and that’s not even counting her managerial duties. Then after those came the time she auditioned for song and dance, which she failed. She remembered getting yelled at when her performance dropped right after that.
Then her tempo never really recovered when she tried to keep up prepping for college with her other activities, because she was seen as the leader so she had to take responsibility when the ship sinks. Things became worse when they handed her the career paths form to fill out. Branching out to too many things and stretching herself thin left her with no idea of what she’d intended to do with herself after high school. Obviously, she had to go to college, but to study what exactly?
When she asked for opinions regarding the matter, her parents told her to become a doctor since that’s the best thing, and the noble thing someone of her caliber could do. That’s when she’d nervously laughed because she can’t imagine what that would be like, and she doesn’t even know if she could pass. God forbid they’d expect her to get into UTokyo too.
Thus, saddled with some more expectations both from herself and from her parents, and from people who was acquaintances but not quite friends with her, she began to work through even more studies. Anything, everything, just to figure out some path she could take that would help set her up financially and live through the process.
Which is also probably why she looked on at some of her classmates who seemed to take off with their creative ventures (this was an artsy school after all) with jealousy. That could’ve been her if she’s honest with herself. But no, even if currently there was nothing that resonated with her as a choice, she still had to try researching more alternative options.
She felt empty trying to slog through those moments. Because nothing of that nature was sticking with her. So, the days kept on counting and the responsibilities she had to fulfill kept rotating in check.
Then things blew in her face as a graduation ribbon was handed to her and her year sang ‘Hotaru no Hikari’ followed by her giving her second button of all things to this lovely girl (her words, not Ibuki’s) from the grade below. Black container in hand, a button missing from her shirt, and a tired smile was her sign of acceptance at the fact that, wow, she’s becoming an adult now. Which is bad because she’s not ready and she hasn’t had enough life experience. But, of course, she persevered like usual with gritted teeth and practiced smiles as everyone including the people she never noticed congratulated her for getting into the top university she was dreading at before. Well, that one is a problem her future self can figure out later.
Turns out, that problem didn’t quite get solved. Four semesters into her management major, she finally attended a party, with a paper cup in hand, she tasted the drink someone spiked. The burn of the spirit suddenly brought to her an epiphany. Some guy asked her in an intellectual way about her activities and gossip about the professors, where another jumped in the conversation as she racked her brain for an answer. Turns out, there was blankness to be had on that inquiry. She wasn’t interested to talk about the topic at all! While the others talked animatedly about some kind of hobbies and relations to their major, she couldn’t find any way to return back to the conversation.
The tempo she was failing to restore worsened again as she toiled away to at least save her grades from being less than acceptable. Other people found success where she gets tongue tied, and other people got straight As while she settled with her B-s. She grimaced even further when she remembered that some of them didn’t even struggle even going as far as being the ones to party all day, sleep around, and not study but still get those better grades.
And, that’s where she is now. Fuming away at her circumstances, while being reluctant to pull the plug on her journey. After all, she wasn’t a quitter. As much as it hurt to see how much fun others were having…
Well…
She compromised, and instead took a leave on the grounds of her mental health. Other’s perception of her character be damned. She also went back to her parents, but not quite living in the same roof, just in the same town overall. Right around where her old high school was.
Well, that was refreshing. For a moment. Now Ibuki was left with a lot of time to figure things out for herself. But what? What should she do in the meantime? Well, taking at least some of her studies to use, she decided taking a job wouldn’t hurt.
The first one was at a local gym she frequented to where they accepted her as a receptionist. With it came the benefits of keeping up with her form and fitness. She did meet some familiar faces that she couldn’t recall the names of, but she hid those with a well placed smile.
The second one was at a bar near the big university in town. Now, with this one, she also dealt with a lot more people and---
“Wait did you just skip over my part and not mention me in any way?!”
Ibuki then blinked, “Uh, something wrong with that?”
“Yeah there is!” The blond huffed wiping the cut open wound on Ibuki’s arm. “It also doesn’t explain anything about how you ended up like this in the first place!”
Ibuki raised an eyebrow at that, “You said you wanted to know ‘from the top’ so I figured I’d give you the full details Jenny.”
“I did but,” Then Jenny shrieked when Ibuki hunched over and straightened back in her seat revealing blood pooling around her stomach. “Oh my god what did you even do?!”
“Some people stabbed me while I was working.” Ibuki explained, which made Jenny's expression grew more mortified. “Don’t worry, they won’t come here, I made sure of it.”
Ibuki pressed her free hand to her stomach wound, holding pressure while Jenny fussed and finished with covering the cut arm. “Please don’t tell me you’re working with the Yakuza or something…” Jenny mumbled, prepping herself to address the much more worrying stomach. “Also how can you even talk normally with that happening…”
“Experience.” There was no change in the flat tone Ibuki was using. “Also no, I’m just working as a cleaner these days. Pays the rent handsomely.” Then a chuckle. “And it’s all just as easy as stabbing someone in the back too.”
“I’ll pretend that you didn’t just tell me that you kill people for money.” Jenny however, was having trouble on how to exactly proceed because she certainly wasn’t a doctor, which reminds her… “Why can’t you go to a hospital instead of my place anyways.”
“You’re much closer and less riskier.”
Anyways, continuing on where she left off before, this person trying to treat her was her friend from high school. Jenny. Or, Sasago Jennifer Yuka. She was an underclassman that Ibuki got to know from her visits to the gym which Yuka’s family owned. Oh and that’s also where she part-timed during her break.
“Well, that was a vote of confidence.” Yuka decided that the only thing she could do was to clean and cover the wound in tight bindings, since there was no way that she could stitch it up and not expect internal complications! “Seriously, just try to go to a hospital!”
“…Fine.”
“It’s not like you have some magic healing powers or something, so go. Now. I already dressed your wound and I don’t want someone to suspect me of murder when they find out the blood right outside my door.”
“Oh right, sorry about that.” Ibuki got up, then picked up the suit jacket she threw off earlier and put it on covering the bandages. “Just pour bleach on it and let it soak, citric acid could help too.”
With that Ibuki left, the door wide open with Yuka looking on at the figure calmly exiting the premises. She sighed, wiping her soiled hands with a cold napkin and trashing it away with the other items she used to treat Ibuki with.
Well then… She supposed she might as well try on removing that bloodstain before her neighbors came knocking. Because, god, she’s a photographer not a trained MD! Who the hell expected an old friend to come in her apartment all injured and bloody like that…
Where was she? Oh right the story about her second part time job. She worked at this bar which, surprise, surprise, is owned by Dalia, another friend of hers. They met also when she was in high school alongside Yuka, and became a trio shortly afterwards. Dalia was two years her senior, so obviously Dalia had more life experience than her.
“No, I don’t want a recap over our meeting.” Came the interruption, “I’m just surprised it took you this long to tell her about your actual job considering you told me that the first time you did one.”
“Both of you need to stop cutting me off when I’m telling my life story.”
“Well, I’m certainly not your therapist.” Dalia had scoffed at her while idly wiping a cloth at a wine glass in her hands. “And your actual therapist works a gig.” An emphasis. “At my bar.” Her eyes flitted across to where a band of performers just took their break at a nearby table.
Meanwhile, said therapist walked to the counter with her soft lilac hair, swiping it aside and tucking a strand behind her ear. “Hey Dalia,” She smiled as Dalia handed her the usual drink she prefers. Then, her head turned towards Ibuki, the smile still apparent on her face. “And how do you do Ibuki?”
Ibuki blinked. “How do you do.” Then a significant pause as the both of them enjoyed their respective drinks. “How’s S1REN doing Hiiro?” Yes, Ibuki tried to make small talk.
“We’re doing great!” Hiiro said, “Aoi had us signed up for an upcoming Rock Festival and we’re still into discussing about the possibility of a second solo live.”
“That sounds nice.” Ibuki hummed noncommittally.
“And I sure hope you’ll come to our lives when it does happen.”
“Well that depends on my schedule and if I have any clients to service on that date.” But then a little smile. “I’ll see if I could fit that in later thought.”
“Great! I’m glad that you’re making progress on the prospect of social gatherings.”
“I don’t think there’s anything social about me sitting down and listening to your group’s setlist.”
“Oh no,” Hiiro gasped, now a hand put over her mouth, “That won’t do! I told you last time that you need to socialize more Ibuki!”
“Last time I checked you’re not a licensed therapist.” Ibuki deadpanned, and stared at the older one. “And still not one.”
“Hey, I’m still working on that one!” Hiiro shot back. “Anyways, look, why don’t you just practice socializing again like hm…” Hiiro turned her head at several directions, eyes finally landing on a lonesome green-haired girl drinking shots of tequila at a corner table. She pulled Ibuki close, whispering to her ear while discreetly pointing at the subject. “Try talking to that girl, make friends! I think she needs one just as bad as you do.”
“And why are you telling me to go ‘make friends’ when we’re getting along like now?”
“Sssh it’s for your own good.” Hiiro continued. “Also, trying to save you from the secondhand embarrassment of watching Dalia trying to flirt with my bandmate.”
And true to her words, Dalia, who’s finally having some free time with things already served was now approaching the band’s table. Besides the usual faces of the energetic ginger and the calm DJ, there’s the brunette that Ibuki recognized to be far more than she appears to be.
Well, Ibuki was certainly intrigued about the effort considering Dalia has been trying (and realizing) for quite some time now. Nevermind the awkward fact that Ibuki flirted with Marika, the brunette, before too. That was back when she was still young, and new to exploring her attraction to other human beings.
"Fifty says she actually managed to get her point across this time." She wagered.
"Oh, you're on."
So both of them watched as Dalia coughed and greeted the group, and Ibuki noticed with her fine tuned eyesight that the band's vocalist had snickered dragging her DJ girlfriend away without much notice from the other two. Wow, they're really setting the stage for the bartender there. Of course Marika leans back into her seat, hands clasped together, elbows resting on the table. Eyes glowing, but not overenthusiastic of the attention.
"Hey Dalia! I was wondering when you'd come by." There's a slight smirk on the woman's face, and Ibuki could swear that a blush bloomed on Dalia's normally cold face. "Did you miss me?"
"I, uh," Dalia coughed again, clearing her throat to make time, "I do." Hiiro gripped the side of Ibuki's arm now. "Couldn't miss you more." But then there's the quickly amended, "We only really see each other every week anyway."
"That's true..." Marika hummed in response, "We're basically so busy we barely have time to do anything about it huh?"
Hiiro snorted right next to her, leaning closer when Ibuki preferred to just take another shot of her drink.
"You have my number and everything."
Ibuki choked as the liquid went down the wrong pipe thanks to Hiiro startlingly shaking her body upon the revelation. "What the fuck, she has her number?!" And Hiiro did not help as Ibuki tapped to release more choking noises.
"...Language..." She finally managed. Finally wiggling herself out of Hiiro's hold, Ibuki sighed. "Fine, I'll just go away. You enjoy watching the clownery."
And thus, not really concerned over her bet--- which she was pretty sure she's going to win anyway--- Ibuki took the suggestion and approached the aforementioned lonely table. "This seat taken?" And put her best damned smile for whoever it is. "I'll be away quick once my friends settle down."
"No, go right ahead." Taking heed, Ibuki nodded and sat down.
While before, she couldn't really make out the full appearance of this patron, she clearly could now. In front of her was the image of a bespectacled woman with cascading wavy green hair, with eyes focused on the screen of her tablet. Ibuki would then associate the hair color to moss and the eyes to light shrubbery. Of course, with just a slight angling of her head Ibuki could see further into what the woman was working on. It was some complicated spreadsheets regarding schedules and budgetary proposal issues.
"Still slaving away even thought it's a weekend?" Ibuki commented.
"Mmm, no, I'm only reviewing things." Ah, that explains the tequila then. Then her eyes glanced at Ibuki. "Not enjoying your friend's company?"
There's a short laugh that comes out when Ibuki peeked back at the S1REN table apparently now only having a dreamy Marika with Hiiro smiling at her side, nodding along with whatever tales she regaled. Looks like Ibuki won that bet then. "Just giving them some bonding time." Then she gave the woman a smile again. "What about you, came here with a friend?"
"Hmm, not really," Then the woman closed her device, an inquisitive look put on her face. "Why the interest?"
"I'm trying to make friends," Ibuki offered, "Ibuki."
"Esora." Esora offered back, a wide grin now spread on her face. "Nice to meet you Ibuki."
Maybe it wasn't completely right of Ibuki to take a girl back home instead of escorting her back to her own house. But, hey, what's done is done. Ibuki instead opted to serve more drinks and some food.
"Your place is big."
"Just remodeled it recently, you're one of the lucky ones to see it first."
There's a melodious giggle that comes up once they've settled down on Ibuki's couch. Even so, those inquisitive eyes never really leaves her. There's a twinkle of mischief in there and Ibuki knew then that she had to ask.
"So, want to take the grand tour?" A hand out to invite.
"I'd love to." Another hand placed itself on top of hers.
"And so you had invited someone over into your real house even though, I quote 'I am a careful assassin' is a thing."
"Hey, as far as I know, she's a cute businesswoman and we just happened to hit it off right away."
"Well good for you." Yuka leaned back into the couch, "At least you had the decency to take it to the bedroom right?"
Silence.
"You're kidding me." She jerked upright and off the couch as Ibuki just stared from where she was standing. "Tell me at least you disinfected."
"Technically, it was more of a 'Everything, Everywhere, All at Once' affair."
Yuka looked at her in horror and disgust. "I am going to have images implanted into my brain and I haven't even met this mysterious girl." She instead opted to lean on the countertop, sighing. "I don't know why people want to date you."
"That's rich coming from someone hoping for an idol to notice them." Ibuki gave her a look of pity.
"Hey, I've known her since before she became an idol!" Yuka groaned pointing an accusatory finger at Ibuki. "That's better than you and your mystery lady."
"Anyways, we're getting off tracked, we're not here to talk about your celebrity crush," Ibuki then handed a folded up paper to her. "There's an event that I'm supposed to infiltrate, but I needed a plus one that won't be a bother."
"I don't see how that has anything to do with-" then Yuka looked down at the paper again, rereading the lines. "Oh, you think you'll just use me as bait while you kill someone in there."
"Exactly."
"Why would I want to do that." Yuka sighed.
"Because I can pay you for the trouble and you can get some quick impressionable shot while you're there." And then, in one of the rarest moments since their high school era, Ibuki had looked at her with those hopeful eyes. "Please, Jenny?"
"Hrk..." Yuka looked away then, coughing into her hand, finally mumbling an answer. "Fine... Just don't leave me behind when you're done."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
"I didn't know you came here too Yuka!"
"Oh, uh, yeah..."
Yuka cursed under her breath once she was met with this ball of sunshine and energy. The tuft of blue hair sticking out under her cap was unmistakable as one belonging to a certain popular idol. Yuka was desperately trying not to stare while also drinking in the sight of the Super Idol Towa-chan in baby blue frilly dress. Maybe Ibuki knew that Towa was also going to this event and so had bullshitted her way into inviting Yuka just so she could watch the mess that came with running into her star crush.
"Are you planning on making a report about this?" Then Towa closed in on her, sneakily whispering into her ear, which made Yuka internally scream for a bit, "I heard they're going to unveil a surprise show debut here, you should get your camera ready when that happens."
"Oh!" Yuka glanced at the empty stage, a thought forming in her head but it quickly went away as she noticed that Towa has been staring at her since that bit of information. "Is there something wrong with my face?"
"No!" Towa winked at her, "I just think you looked really good in that suit~!"
"Thank you...?" Wow is it her or is it getting hot in here. Honestly she supposed she should say thanks to Ibuki. The dapper grey suit and black tie was her idea, and Yuka wasn't one to deny the offer of brand new shirts and pants. "You look really pretty too Towa."
"You're making me blush!" There's a light smack on the shoulder that follows the laugh, and Yuka had a nervous laugh on her own at that. "Come on, you should come see the desserts, they have a crepe bar!"
Then in some way or another Yuka was dragged by the hand with vigor, with Towa's hat bouncing but never really falling as they strode over to the table holding various kinds of desserts either dry or moist. But obviously they're here for the other table, with very inviting plates of crepes, an assortment of toppings ready to place. When Yuka reached out to get a plate and serve some for her current partner-- wherever Ibuki is she can go do her own business-- did another hand come to almost touch on hers.
"Ah."
Yuka blinked, then turned her head to the side. She stared hard for a hot second, eyes roaming to the well put black tuxedo, until a flash of recognition registered on her face. Yuka moved to point at the other, and the person, obviously, did the same gesture.
"Dalia!/Yuka!"
Both screamed, taking in everyone's attention. Their companion however, quickly came over at their side, their own look of confusion and worry shown on their faces. On one side, Towa fussed, "Yuka, what's wrong?" But only a moment later for Towa to look at Dalia's date, did she erupt into her own squee. "No way, Marika-chan!?"
"Towa-chan! Marika didn't expect to see you here!" Both women jumped in joy, hands intertwining, grinning from ear to ear while both of their partners were left to the side.
Not wanting to ruin the moment, Yuka eyed Dalia, nodding at each other. "I didn't know you were the type to attend a gala." Yuka started. "Also, nice tux."
"Marika invited me." There's a small smile on her face, and Yuka wondered if Dalia was conscious about that. "What about you, I also don't think you're comfortable around a stuffy gala."
"Haha. Funny you mention that." Yuka sighed, palming her face at the same time. "Ibuki invited me, and then she ditched me. I don't know, she's doing a job I think."
"Oh I guess someone's going to die tonight then." Dalia quirked an eyebrow at that. "Weird how she invited you if she's going to ditch you anyways."
"Yeah, I think she's just doing an elaborate scheme to set me up with..." Yuka threw a look back at the entertainer duo, apparently still busy with each other. "With Towa..." Then gestured at said woman, her face reddening as she spoke.
"Well, know that I am on your side every step of the way." Dalia patted her shoulder, nodding solemnly. "If that's what she intended, then just do it, spend some more time with Towa."
"But what if-"
"No what if-s, more doing." Dalia dragged Yuka along by the shoulder before she could ever form those train of thoughts.
"You know, you could totally be my therapist Dalia."
"I'm not your therapist."
"Aww!"
Meanwhile, Ibuki equipped her very stylish but not overly complicated black domino mask, sticking it to her face with spirit gum. Then her pair of sleek gloves. Then styled her hair back, giving a more wild look while still keeping it tied. All of her essential weapons were already strapped to her one way or another. Next thing she knew is that she only had to get in quick, kill the guy, manipulate the evidence, and then get out quickly to enjoy those highly sought after catering food.
Things went well.
Ibuki wiped the blood off of her knife and then sheathed it, dropping her calling card of a wind logo with 'ibk' transcribed in Morse code. Apparently no one at the precinct had ever bothered to check the very obvious evidence of the killer's identity other than the idea that they're a hired power. This bothered her a lot considering she's been doing this for a few years now. Surely the competency of officers can't keep being this low even if she murdered like, a bunch of the actual good ones. Quickly closing the door behind her, Ibuki let that thought simmer in the back of her mind. She moved fast, entering a room that she was sure wasn't booked for the itinerary nor the crew.
"Ah!"
The click of the door closing behind her wasn't what made her pause in her streamlined tracks. Of course, what made her pause was the existence of a woman with glasses standing right in the middle of the room wearing her own gothic black dress.
"I'm sorry I must've gotten the wrong room." The excuse was already forming on the tip of her tongue as she pivoted for the door, but a quick shuffle of movements and a hand tugging at the end of her coat prevented her from taking another step.
"Wait."
"Is there a problem ma'am?"
"Haven't we met before?"
Ibuki cleared her throat, remembering now that the other person in the room was none other than the young miss, Shimizu Esora. The one responsible for hosting this party, and also the one responsible for every other minute details not handled by the staff. It's impressive. But, Ibuki also realized that this person was also the one whom she had taken home way back when she took Hiiro's advice to mingle.
Well, shit.
"I'm afraid you are quite mistaken, I believe this is the first time that we have met."
That should do.
"No." Then there was a grip on her wrist and Ibuki reflexively tried to turn the motion away in defense--- Only to be stopping halfway as she turned around to be face to face with the lady. It was then that Ibuki realized.
Oh god, she's a beauty.
With her lips slightly upturned, pouty, accentuated by a shade of red suited to her skin. Her lashes flutter in the few seconds they were together, and Ibuki bit her lip in a vain attempt to dissuade the thoughts that have started to form. Esora's eyes still shine like a gem just like the first time Ibuki saw her.
"You must think I'm stupid to not notice the same features this close." Esora moved closer, lightly pushing Ibuki further back to the door. "Nice to see you Ibuki-san." Then there's a smirk.
"Im surprised someone actually recognized me." Ibuki said. "How are you doing Esora-san?"
"You didn't call me back," Esora's hands moved to Ibuki's shoulders, another push making a noise as her back finally hit the frame. "I'm sad about that you know."
"Oh," Ibuki adjusted her tie, staring back at Esora who's on her tiptoes. "I tried to, but you gave me the wrong number."
"Ah."
"Yeah."
"I'm pretty sure I gave you the right one though."
"No, it connected to some angry pint-sized girl."
"Oh..." Esora muttered slowly, "That must be Shinobu..." But she returned to her smile quickly, weight still leaning on Ibuki that it's amazing the door could handle it. "But, now that you're here, I think you don't need to rush back to whatever you were doing."
"...What are you suggesting?" Ibuki quirked an eyebrow.
"No need to pretend." Esora said, lightly. "I already knew there's an incident and you're responsible for it. No one runs around with a mask on at this kind of gala."
"I was hoping to actually come back to the party..."
"I have security stationed nearby."
"Huh." Ibuki sized her up, noting the small build that she has. "You know that I could just overwhelm you before any of that comes by right?"
There was a strange look to her eyes that Ibuki couldn't quite place, and the sentence that follows sure didn't help matters. "I believe I have a proposition that you can't refuse."
"Well," A laugh full of mirth escaped her lips. "With the position I'm in, you've well piqued my interest."
"Why am I not surprised." Yuka sighed into her palms seeing the display. There stood before her, was a very unlikely pair joined in arms. One smiling at her, and the other with quite the dry chuckle going on. "You got found out by the actual host."
"Well there's also other things that happened."
"Spare me the details." Yuka pinched the bridge of her nose, releasing another sigh. "And Esora, you're telling me that you're actually willing to let her go off scot free?"
Esora nodded. "I'm keeping her."
"Wait, hold on a moment." Ibuki gave the placating smile, disentangling from the hold the woman had on her. "Let me have a word with Yuka."
"Oh, go right ahead."
And so Ibuki snagged Yuka along towards a corner, Esora's eyes trained on them lazily. Hanging her arm around Yuka, Ibuki smiled thinly. "So, judging by how you addressed her, you two knew each other."
Yuka sighed. "Of course, it all makes sense now." She massaged her temples. "I thought you'd have noticed by now Ibuki."
"Noticed what?"
"She was my classmate in highschool, and that also makes her your junior."
"And...?" A brow quirked, "Is there something else I'm supposed to remember?"
Yuka groaned. "You also gave her the 'button' on graduation day."
"What button?" Now Ibuki had removed herself from leaning on Yuka, looking more dumbfounded than when they've started.
"God." Yuka slapped both her palms to her face, screaming silently. Then, just as quickly, Yuka returned to a normal state. Face impassive, and both hands hovering almost as if she wanted to choke Ibuki but settled on not doing so, arms finally falling on both sides. "You're better off asking her that instead of me."
"Fine then..." Ibuki pursed her lips, "Thought if you're friends with her, why weren't you invited to this function?"
Yuka had a finger up trying to explain it away, but then faltered, instead agreeing with Ibuki, "You know what, that's a good point, and I'm going to confront her about this at some point..." but the words petered out when she felt a cold smile over her back. "But, we best get back to what she was about to say on your conduct."
"Right."
So they both returned to Esora's side, the woman still smiling at them both.
"Wellll Esora, you were saying?"
"I'm keeping her." Esora had snagged Ibuki's arm again, pulling her close that it almost made Yuka roll her eyes if not for the panicked expression on Ibuki's face. Now that's a rare sight. "I believe you're already familiar with what she's doing behind this lovely smile, yes?" As if on cue, Ibuki did smile. "It would be such a waste to turn her in when her services could be well utilized with the right resources."
"Um," Yuka of course understood perfectly with what was being said and chose not to pursue it any further. "I'll just hope that nothing dangerous comes out of... Whatever your relationship is going to be..."
"Oh, rest assured Yuka!" Esora had chuckled behind a prim hand, "I'm not going to force anything out of her, we had an agreement." Those green eyes glanced at Ibuki. "Isn't that right?"
"Yes," Ibuki coughed a bit, "Mutually benefitting even."
"I see..."
Yuka never got around to asking about whatever happened to Ibuki's target then. With the both of them trotting around like the other was arm candy, and no apparent big fuss even if she did see some men in black sneaking around, it's obvious enough that the host covered everything up.
"I screwed up."
Dalia halted from eating her sandwich, looking at the woman next to her with an incredulous look. They were both sat next to the countertops of Dalia's kitchen. Dalia was cooking some things for lunch earlier when Ibuki barged in with a somber expression. Of course her being an occasional intruder at this point had made Dalia immune to the effort of providing color commentary, instead treating it as another highlight of the day.
"I want to cry."
"Go ahead?"
Ibuki leaned back on her chair, sighing, then, started wailing as she buried her face into her palms. At the same time, Dalia slid a cold glass of Orange Juice to her. Ibuki promptly sipped on it before continuing to drop into that state of despair.
"Want to explain what's wrong?"
"So..."
"AND WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY DAUGHTER?!"
It was a month after the gala, and some days before Ibuki's intrusion into Dalia's home. Ibuki was in a nondescript room, tied up, hung from a rope over a big hole where some actual life-sized crocodiles were lying in wait. Other than that, there was also a man with greying hair overseeing the whole scene. That man was apparently Esora's father.
"Sir, I think there's a misunderstanding here-" Ibuki tried.
"NO TALKING!" The father shouted at her, snapping his fingers where then a nameless subordinate lowered the rope nearer to the hole.
"This is for breaking my daughter's heart." He snapped his fingers again and another group of nameless men in black came in and pointed sets of guns at her.
"Sir, this is very unnecessary--"
"YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH NIJIMA!"
It looks like that wasn't the right thing to say as now Ibuki got lowered way faster from the ceiling, almost like free falling Ibuki thought. Already prepared to fight her way in the hole of alligators, (or was it crocodiles?) Ibuki positioned herself as best as she can to get an edge of the drop.
However, a loud bang from another visitor barging into the room halted the process. "Father, this is very amusing and all but that's my girlfriend you have hanging on the ceiling."
"But Esora!" Esora's father whined.
"Now father, put her down."
"No, wait a minute, there's literally nothing wrong happening there."
"I am amazed by how you're taking all of this in strides Dalia, but that's not the end of the story."
After Ibuki was lowered to a safer spot, and the hole also closed off, did Esora's father came closer to her. He pointed a gun at her, tongue clicking in frustration. "You may escape this time Nijima."
"Father, you can stop with the theatrics now."
"But not on the next time! I'll make sure to cut all the parts of you that touched my daughter!"
"Father!"
"Mark my words, Nijima!" And, as if he was a scorned parent, the father retreated away with all of his subordinates in tow.
With the new silence and Esora's short laugh, Ibuki turned to stare amusedly at her being bound and all. "Well, good to know someone's having a laugh out of this."
"You'd have to forgive my father~! He's just being protective after we reconciled." Esora made short work of the rope binding Ibuki at the same time, "It's not often he gets to play the big threats package."
"Still, that's a wonderful relationship that you have." Ibuki stood up, stretching her arms and legs then dusted off her clothes for the possible specks that clung after being tied to the ceiling. "Your father loves you very much."
"He does." Esora smiled. "Which reminds me..." She blushed, tucking a stray strand behind her ear. It was cute.
"Yes?"
"Since you've met him, I'd like to invite you to officially have dinner with us."
"Yes?"
"And that's how it is." Now, Ibuki, pondering what she'd gotten herself into, had hung her head low with both hands clasped.
"Don't think there's anything wrong with it." Dalia sipped her tea. Apparently she had made a cup of tea while the story was happening.
"No, in the first place your reaction isn't the desired knock-some-sense-into-me kind. What's wrong with your perception!?" Ibuki slammed the counter while shouting.
"No, you're the one that should've gotten used to this kind of thing. Just who's the assassin between us here?"
"You may have a point, but!" Ibuki looked up, gritting her teeth. "I knew it I should've gone to Yuka's place after all!"
"You don't need to, she's on her way." Dalia stated as a matter of fact.
"What?"
"Might as well call her over since we're going to start solving your teenage angst episode today."
"Oi!"
"So that's what happened, huh?"
"Yeah, pretty much will crumble the cool, stoic, beauty of an assassin persona if her date knew."
Yuka nodded understandingly, gossiping with Dalia on the couch as if Ibuki wasn't on another seat away from them. "Meeting Mister Shimizu for a second time is going to be awkward considering that bombastic first time." She held off from laughing at the idea. "I mean, what's the harm really, you just need to be honest, show that you make a lot of money, and apologize for whatever offense you made." Thought Yuka added in a much lower voice afterwards, "Not to mention her dad is an industry bigshot and is tied to Yakuza apparently. That's right up your alley."
"See, it's common sense Ibuki." Dalia remarked, turning her head slightly to the other woman. "Just do it."
"You two..." Ibuki looked at them, a soft look on her face. "This is very inspirational, I appreciate it."
"That's because we are inspirational!" Yuka thumbed at her chest, "In-spe-rash-shion-al!" Then winked. "Ehe!"
Ibuki shuddered. "For better or for worse Jenny, I think Towa's idol routine is rubbing off on you."
"I concur."
"You guys are rude."
Afterwards, the three bonded even closer over vegetables, training regiments and idols' calorie intake.
On the weekend after, an undetermined number of days before the planned dinner, Ibuki visited the house on her own accord. Other than scout out the place another time, familiarizing her actual self would do good she figured. A quick notification to Esora was all she needed to do. Well... That and some other preparation beforehand. One was dressing not too shabbily--another set of suits-- and the other was rummaging through her things to discover what Yuka meant when she talked about the button. It took quite a long time, but Ibuki's finally found it, her old high school uniform complete except for the missing second button. To say that it didn't jog her memory would be a massive disappointment. Because it did, and upon realizing what it meant and connecting the dots between what Yuka said and her fuzzy memory of the lovely underclassman, Ibuki laughed and facepalmed at herself. Esora was that one underclassman who asked for her button, who, upon a closer inspection, didn't actually look that different from the current Esora. Sure, their hairstyle differed and Esora wore glasses now more often than not, but, the same 'dangerous' energy and playfulness were there.
It was with this realization that Ibuki had dramatically whisked Esora away to a more secluded area--her room-- away from the possibility of sudden enemy--Esora's father-- encounter.
"Esora... I'm sorry I didn't notice it earlier." Ibuki grasped both of Esora's hands. "It must have been tough for you all this time. You were the girl that I gave my second button to all those years ago, right?"
"Ah." Esora turned her face down. "You figured me out." Then tilted to the side. "I thought you'd have forgotten about it by now, Ibuki-senpai."
"Honestly, I did. But I went through some of my old things and you just gave it away." Well not really, but semantics.
The green haired one bit her lip, "I'm kind of embarrassed now..." There's a nervous giggle that came up, and her eyes focused back to stare at Ibuki's now. "I didn't expect you to bring this up."
"Well, I felt bad considering what it meant to give you that..." Ibuki trailed off. "Sorry?"
"Well considering we're already together now," Esora squeezed on their joined hands, "That's a thing of the past. Won't you agree?"
"Still, I'm a bit of a romantic... To think this happened. It turned into a nicer memory, right?"
"Hmm," Esora grinned, "Indeed," she tilted her head up, puckering her lips to kiss Ibuki on the lips. "It's a lovely scenario."
"And you're lovely." She reciprocated.
"Ah that explains a bit on why Father was so angry with you. Your career aside. I think it'd be an interesting dinner later."
Oh, right.
"Aaaah...."
Ibuki sighed, slumping down to the bar's counter with an unamused Dalia and a confused Yuka at her sides.
"So, what happened for you to call us both at six in the morning and barge into my establishment?" Dalia asked.
"Yeah I mean I don't mind since it sounds like an emergency, what went wrong?" Now it was Yuka.
"Let's just say it was a tuna accident."
"Wanna elaborate on that?"
"No."
"Okay then." Yuka nodded.
"Since you're not going to spill your feelings to us, here." Dalia slid a glass of iced dark brown liquid with a straw in it to them both.
"Thanks." Ibuki murmured taking a sip. She blinked. "What's in this?"
"Bottled coke." Dalia then drank from her own glass.
"That reminds me, we're going to need a breakfast, because I'm famished. Want to grab a burger after this?"
"Yeah, sure."
"With that many calories thought?"
"As your not personal trainer, let's just write it off as a cheat window and call it a day."
"Alright, fine then."