Description: A walk in Chinatown results in a reunion of sorts between Bernstein's other secretary, Mature, and the last Yagami--who just so happens to be teaching a pickpocket a lesson in why you don't steal wallets from those with Orochi. With a bit of friendly provocation, a delightful fight between Iori and Mature ensues.
It's the holiday shopping season again, and that means the shopping centers of Southtown are jam-packed with people. The parts of Chinatown most popular with tourists are included there, naturally.
And where there are crowds, there will also be legions of pickpockets out to make a few easy bucks. When packed together so densely, it'd be a given that most people wouldn't notice the usual telltale signs -- a bump to the hip, a missing wallet or purse.
And yet in the midst of this dense sea of people, there's at least one spot in which people are pointedly walking around. One in which a pickpocket was -not- able to abscond with the goods -- for said pickpocket is currently on the ground, crab-walking backwards away from an imposing red-haired man with a black leather trenchcoat: Iori Yagami. And the tall Yagami scion is not exactly pleased with the torn pocket on said trenchcoat.
Though, for what it's worth, the pickpocket's not pleased with the blood founting from his nose, or the multiple bruises peppering his body, wounds evident through the torn businessman shirt. "I... I won't ever do it again, I prom--"
A steel-toed boot to the face aborts the sentence. "Damn right you won't." Snorting, Iori pulls his foot back, tucking his thumbs back into his pockets. "Any other bright ideas?" His crimson gaze lingers on the pickpocket for a moment, before he grows bored and lazily scans the crowd. "... Anyone else, for that matter?" It's not like the pickpocket's going anywhere at the moment -- he'd just slumped into unconsciousness.
Despite the throngs and hordes of people that flock Southtown's Chinatown district, Mature finds it quite easy to make her way directly through--a subtle shove and nudge straight through tourists and locals alike will get her easily from point a to point b in no time. It helps when you're dressed like you're very important, which she is--a ridiculously nice black trenchcoat is snugly wrapped around her, protecting a nice, tailor suit. Naturally she has her ear stuck to a cellphone.
"Yes, I understand," the woman idly prattles to the person on the other end, vibrant blues idly and boredly making note of her surroundings and everyone therein. Nothing of importance or note really stands out immediately, so the woman's steps cease to falter or slow.
That is until she spies the circle of pedestrians gathered around something particularly intriguing. Of course Mature has to go and investigate.
"I'll call you back," she assures the other end of the phone. "This could be interesting."
Lo and behold there's a sight worth seeing--the notorious Yagami scion is currently threatening a hapless pickpocket, whose nose is currently stained with a steady stream of red. It draws a tiny smile across the blonde's lips, and as he speaks up the woman proceeds to weasel her way through the gathered throng of observers and stumble into the open area the redhead currently occupies.
"Well, well!" she says, sounding pleasant and frighteningly cheerful. "If it isn't Yagami himself. You're not looking to pick fights with people clearly beneath your caliber of skill, are you?" Mature almost looks disgusted at the very idea.
As the voice carries to his ears, Iori swivels to address the speaker. A faint smirk crosses his lips for a long moment as he places the face. The smirk stays in place as he surveys Mature's form, deliberately taking his time with the process. Being an asshole is in his blood, after all.
The secretary's question, though, is still in need of a response. And Iori gives it, shifting his weight onto his left foot. "Don't need to look. People pick fights with me anyway." His gaze intentionally drifts to the prostrate form of the pickpocket: "... Exhibit A."
Chin still tilted towards the downed pickpocket, his crimson eyes turn back to Mature, neatly circumventing his dense veil of red hair. "I don't suppose you're volunteering yourself as Exhibit B, though?" A slight pause -- and then Iori adds, "... It's been a while."
The reaction she garners from the Yagami descendant is enough to draw a wide smile across carefully-painted red lips, blue eyes alight with glee. And when she's got his devoted attention, Mature's eyes draw shut, a long hand rising from her side to idly brush back errant locks of golden-blonde hair. "My, do you like what you see?" Asshole or no, her arrogance reigns supreme, conquering her capacity to be offended by his deliberately slow survey.
With a tired sigh the secretary steps forward, although she pauses, crouching briefly to set down her suitcase before she ultimately peels her nice, expensive coat free of her curvy figure. "Do they?" she asks idly, neatly folding the garment and setting it atop her briefcase before she turns and acknowledges him with a humble smile. "I beg to differ, mister Yagami. Your questionable temper has a tendency to get you into those messes from what I've seen.
"As for me?" A hand rises, gingerly pressing against her chest as she draws her eyes to an arrogant close. "Oh, I don't know. It would be rather uncouth of a woman of my stature to pick a fight with a ruffian such as yourself. Wouldn't you agree?" Blue eyes open slightly, carefully focused on the redhead. "Or do I not have a choice?" The smile lingers. It's been a while, indeed.
The hairs on the back of Iori's neck raise at the accusation that he might not have control over his emotions. That... and the fact that the mere presence of another Orochi around sets his blood on fire. Consequently, the smirk soon melts into a frown, barely checked by his keen awareness of how far Mature could run with chiding him for that.
"I hate violence," he states calmly, molars grinding into place shortly thereafter. Nonetheless, the Orochi halfblood finds himself striding purposefully towards Mature, his hands balling into fists despite the fact his thumbs remain in their pockets. "So you must have the wrong guy, you see," he rumbles, his mouth defaulting to a tight frown. Fiery red irises level upon Mature's cold baby blues as he strides ever closer, boldly venturing into Mature's personal space. And why not? She's done the favor of shedding her coat.
"... that said... " An arrogant smirk crosses his face as he snorts, practically looming over top of Mature as he grinds to a halt. "... you're in my way." There are plenty of ways for Iori to get from point A to point B that don't involve Mature, of course. But the rapid beat of his heart, the demon of destruction in his blood are enough to convince him to shelve his self-stated aversion to violence, bringing him delicately close to the edge. It's... been a while since he's fought.
It shouldn't be too hard for her to get a rise out of the other Orochi--in fact, it's easy when one knows just which button to push. Apparently that's accusing the poor guy of being unable to hold himself in check. Fortunately for Iori, the blonde doesn't seem to press the matter. Instead, she opts for another modest smile, if only to counter the smirk-turned-frown.
"Is that so?" the woman asks, sounding none too convinced by his statement. "Because I just don't find that very convincing, Yagami." Her arms lift, folding neatly across her chest, her expression as confident as ever as she continues to smile. Even as he approaches the smile there on her red lips doesn't falter. She doesn't seem to be afraid of him, not in the least.
"Careful there, boy," she coos, craning her neck a touch to look up and stare him in those smoldering reds of his. Her personal space violated, Mature seems hardly affronted. One might assume the elder woman enjoys it. "I might actually start liking you."
In his way? Oh, that was just harsh--the tiny frown that melts its way across her smooth face is painfully obvious, however discreet it may be. "Why, mister Yagami," she says, a hand flat against her chest. "The nerve. How rude, to talk to a woman of my standing like that." Drawing her wintry blues shut, the woman paces back a few steps before she lifts a hand up and out, long fingers curling, encouraging him to come forward.
"You'll just have to go through me, if you want to continue forward," she teases. "Or are you afraid you might lose control again, and give in to the blood that boils inside you?" Clearly Mature likes to play with fire.
COMBATSYS: Mature has started a fight here.
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Mature 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Iori has joined the fight here.
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Mature 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Iori
If she's baiting him... well, she's doing a damn good job. But the reason would be twofold here. For one -- Iori's prone to violence, even though he dislikes it, much as Mature asserts. But two -- Iori actually wants to fight the woman -- which would be why he gives a broad smirk at the notion that she might actually start liking him.
And when she steps away, he strides closer. "Standing means nothing. =Respect=, as it were, is =earned=, my dear Mature." Oh, look, he's spouting poetry. Striding closer, he scowls, shaking his head. "And sticking your damn nose where it doesn't belong is a quick way to lose it."
And yet, she keeps taunting him. Blood that boils inside... "Pah. It's your funeral!" With only those words as warning, he takes another step closer, lashing out towards Mature's pretty face with a wicked backhand, clearly intending to knock the woman off her feet. And look -- he didn't even use the Orochi blood for that.
COMBATSYS: Mature blocks Iori's Strong Punch.
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Mature 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Iori
The feeling is mutual--beneath her goading and prodding, there's a rhyme and reason to her machinations. A test of skill, to see if the Yagami has been keeping up with himself. She knows he probably has, but what better way to access than to actually test his abilities? She smiles nonetheless, looking at the young man with delighted blue eyes.
"Ah, is that so? Well then. I suppose you'll have to earn mine, mister Yagami." She pauses briefly, bowing gracefully with a smile still spread across her flawless face. "As for your opinion? Does it really matter? A boy as reckless and naughty as you holds little standing where it really counts. How many fighters truly respect you?" It's a good question, one she briefly considers. If anything, most people are afraid of him. Instilling fear in the weak isn't necessarily something to pride oneself over. Not always, anyway.
Indeed she taunts, and it earns her a reward--quickly the man moves in, his meaty fist swiftly moving to smack her clear across the face. Ducking briefly, Mature lifts her arms, crossing them over her face to absorb the brunt of his harsh blow. Her heels crunch against the ground, her feet sliding a few inches back on impact. Still, Mature holds her own.
"That's more like it," she says, smiling politely. "Now, let's see if you can keep up with me. Watch carefully!" That said, the woman lurches inwardly, letting her arms tear violently through the air before her, nails intent on digging right into the man's midsection, accompanied by harsh, razor-like winds.
COMBATSYS: Iori endures Mature's Metal Massacre.
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Mature 0/-------/-----==|=------\-------\0 Iori
Naughty? Cue the brief smirk -- Iori never really expected Santa to bring him presents, but it's sealed now. As for the claim of whether other fighers respect him -- well, sure, plenty do. Geese, Kula, Ryu... they might not agree with his methods or his madness, but they'd be fools to claim the man was a thoughtless berserker. And the very intimation that he's otherwise... well. It's a little insulting.
Iori can deal with insults though. Mostly. And he can also deal with retorts of the physical variety -- to the point that he really doesn't seem to -care- that the blonde secretary is launching a counteroffensive. Indeed, he actually pauses to withdraw his trenchcoat, letting it flop to the side just as Mature whips her talons into him. The man actually flashing his feral fangs back at the woman as his leather shirt shreds, and the half-Orochi blood flies. Does he care? Probably not -- he's =laughing=.
"You actually think you're =better= than me, woman?" he howls, crimson gaze focusing on Mature with renewed resolve. And just to hammer the point home, Iori steps forward, slamming his left fist forward at Mature in an underhanded punch. Then steps forward again to ram a right uppercut into her jaw. Then -again-, this time leaping forward to bring both hands crashing down onto the woman's head. "I'm! Still! Watching!"
COMBATSYS: Mature dodges Iori's Aoi Hana.
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Mature 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Iori
The brief smirk is met with one of her own, the blonde's features lit up momentarily with an expression of morbid delight. While she may seemingly lack the bloodlust of the other Bernstein secretary, Mature finds a certain enchantment in raw combat on occasion. And even MORE so when pitted against someone like the Yagami scion. She might find herself actually having fun with the kid.
Into the young man the woman charges, nails lashing out. They strike, and with the motion shreds his shirt and some flesh, a soft patter of blood striking the cold concrete between the two fighters. As he flashes fangs, the woman just grins broadly, eyes held wide, if only briefly.
"I never professed to being superior to you, Yagami!" the woman cries, a broad, cheerful smile passing over her rouge-colored lips. The Yagami brutishly charges forward, a large, left fist initiating a series of brutish assaults that--don't strike her. By the time he's coming at her to attack, the woman has since stepped out of harm's way and off to the side. "I said to keep up with me, darling!" Is he watching? Well, he certain didn't touch her. "Eyes open next time, Yagami!"
With her body at his side, the woman reaches out rather swiftly, long fingers intent on digging into what of his shirt she can grab and briefly toss the Orochi man away from her and skidding into concrete.
COMBATSYS: Iori blocks Mature's Quick Throw.
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Mature 0/-------/-----==|=------\-------\0 Iori
At least -Mature's- keeping up. He was growing rather bored with opponents like that pickpocket who just can't put up a fight. (Ironically enough, the pickpocket's pockets have been picked already, what with the two combatants suitably engaged...)
And Iori can keep up with Mature also, thrusting his forearm into the path of Mature's talons, shoving her away from his shirt. "Keep up?" asks the halfblood with a scornful smirk. "You're right where I want you to be!" And just to show exactly what he's talking about, he thrusts his knee up towards Mature's midsection. "GURAAAH!"
COMBATSYS: Iori successfully hits Mature with Light Kick.
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Mature 0/-------/=======|=------\-------\0 Iori
What, he expected to slap Mature silly and be done with her? Indeed it would seem the blonde keeps up with the Yagami for the interim, having done well to otherwise avoid the brunt of his strength. But she can't keep up forever.
Her hands are otherwise avoided, the Orochi-blooded man's thick arm shoving its way between her hands and his shirt before making his move. "Indeed!" she calls back, still grinning broadly. She's where he wants her to be?
She's quick to find out just what that means.
Unable to really move out of harm's way or block his onslaught, with what how awkwardly placed she is, Iori's knee fiercely jerks up, thrusting its way clean into her midsection. A guttural 'oof' escapes her before she slides back and away, her hand pressed firm to her gut as she staggers back. She coughs a few times before she simply smirks, eyes narrowed dangerously.
"About time, Yagami," she chides with a amicable grin.
That's his cue. Again does Mature move, her feet quickly carrying her the distance necessary to move in and strike the other Orochi-blooded fighter. Her body then twists, her open palm swiping the air between them, long, well-manicured nails intent on slashing the man across his face rather fiercely.
COMBATSYS: Iori interrupts Strong Punch from Mature with Yumebiki.
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Mature 1/-----==/=======|==-----\-------\0 Iori
The fact that Mature's proving herself to be a worthy challenge is appreciated. Even though it doesn't seem that way from Iori's sneer -- doesn't she know that only -he- is allowed to be cocky and arrogant? Bah.
At least his knee landed the way it was supposed to -- that fact is enough to put her comment on ice. "You ought to know better," he comments back in return.
Unfortunately for Mature, though, Iori takes the cue as it's offered to him. He doesn't make any dramatic evasion to get the heck out of the way of that slap -- if anything, the slouched-over man actually straightens his spine a bit, rising to bring his cheek even closer to that slashing hand.
In fact, if it weren't for the fact that he'd brought his left forearm up, neatly preventing Mature's hand from proceeding, it -might- have done a bit more damage to the man. As it is, though, the nails are enough to draw blood -- but not enough to cause the adrenaline-pumped Iori to flinch from the pain.
"Better," he notes -- but at this point he already has Mature's arm out of the way. And, in doing so, he exploites the opening -- stepping forward to bring his -own- talons slashing diagonally across Mature's face. And to bolster the strike, he steps forward once more, reversing sharply to slam the -back- of his left fist into the other side of Mature's face. "KURAAAAH!"
She wouldn't want it any other way. The sneer, however, suggests otherwise--but Mature hardly cares. Let him be arrogant. She will only meet and surpass him in that department. A grin melts its way across her lips once she's caught her breath again. "Perhaps I ought," she replies, furrowing her thin blonde brows briefly. It would seem she may have set herself up for failure with her cockiness--damned if she'll admit to it.
Mature is hardly finished. So he landed a knee to her gut? She's still in one piece and rearing to fight him. Her heart pounding and eyes a touch wide, Mature smiles even further, her expression gleefully pleasant. And then she tears off, racing hurriedly to cover the space between them and put her nails into that face of his.
Or so she'd like to, anyway.
She makes contact, but it's not the sort she'd fancy. Better? How dare he! "Che!" she spits, but it's brief--the Yagami scion takes advantage of the opening provided, and with it his hand comes down across her face. It sends the woman reeling back, eyes wide in horror. The nerve...how dare he. How dare he hit her face! But he's not done--seconds later, his knuckles lodge themselves briefly into the other side of her face, sending the woman skidding across the concrete.
"Y...yagami," she spits, lifting herself slowly but surely from the ground. Her nice suit is already showing signs of wear, evident by the fray and tear where concrete bit cloth. "How could you?" She'd pout--but she's far too irritated to do even that. A hand reaches up, touching her face. There's blood. Features suddenly shift, her expression harsh and unforgiving.
"How DARE you!!" she howls, lifting her arms up from her sides, to cross at the wrists before they swiftly descend, an arc of sharp, biting wind tearing through the air and toward the last Yagami. No one touches her face. NO one.
COMBATSYS: Iori endures Mature's Ebony Tears.
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Mature 1/----===/=======|===----\-------\0 Iori
So Iori's pissing off Mature? He's loving every instant of it, then -- from her pained expression to the rivulets of blood dripping from his fingernails. A flick of his wrist, a random spattering of red upon the concrete. That's it -- now we're talking.
And when the razor-sharp wind comes whistling towards him, Iori simply greets it with a wide, feral smile. "I DARE!" he cries out, as if that answer justifies the attack itself. There are times when Iori can be perfectly lucid and participate in a highly logical debate. This is not one of them.
His goal? His goal is simple -- plow =through= the biting wind, letting it tear at his arms and torso as he charges onward, his thick red hair whipping back from the sheer speed. If Mature was aiming to slow him down, to take an edge off the aggressive man's fury... well, she was only partially successful in that, from the fact that Iori shudders slightly from the passing of the wave.
But that doesn't take a whole lot away from the fact that he's ramming his left elbow into her chest -- nor that he plans to follow it up with a hard right uppercut, fully intending to send Mature staggering backward. "GURAAAAAH!"
COMBATSYS: Iori successfully hits Mature with Strong Punch.
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Mature 1/=======/=======|====---\-------\0 Iori
Her own hand is covered in blood, but not of his--not anymore, anyway. Letting her fingertips do away with she can of her blood, Mature flicks her fingers, letting it hit the concrete with a silent splatter. "Feh," she spits, looking quite unpleasant. Blue eyes, once delighted, now look to him with suppressed anger; she looks calm, but her eyes are on fire.
Thus she treats him to her Ebony Tears, the winds tearing across the space between them and cutting right into Yagami. He endures the onslaught, but the Orochi descendent doesn't stop there--he rushes in, his elbow plowing straight into the woman's chest as her feet stumble. She tries to dodge out of the way, but he's much faster than she'd imagined. The result? She does, indeed, stagger back, coughing and wheezing pathetically.
Mature looks like crap. With her face cut and her body a mess, she stands for a moment, gathering her wits. The Yagami is as strong as she remembers--GOOD. Without warning, a wide, fierce smile cuts its way over her bloodied features, eyes wide with perverse satisfaction. "That's it!" she cries. "That's it!"
With near-breakneck speed the blonde hurriedly dashes across the concrete with a morbid laugh, her heels clicking rapidly against the cold slabs. Long fingers lurch out, intent on snaring the Yagami. Should she connect, she'll gladly show him her Orochi-given power...
COMBATSYS: Iori blocks Mature's Heaven's Gates.
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Mature 0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0 Iori
Smirking as he appears to catch Mature by surprise, Iori steps back, rising to his full height for a moment. Cracking his knuckles, first the right, then the left, his crimson orbs settle upon Mature in admiration of his handiwork. A low chuckle erupts from his throat as he relishes the fact that he's giving the woman exactly what she'd asked for, as well as quench the anger in his blood. Crawling in his skin, these wounds they will not heal, don'tcha know.
And, unlike most of his opponents, Mature seems to be satisfied at the pace of the impromptu battle. Iori, though... senses a mild shortcoming. Extending his palm, a bloom of purple flame sprouts forth, dancing in his hand and casting ill shadows across his eyes. "You're holding back!" he cautions with thinly narrowed eyes. He =likes= what he's seen, but he knows the woman's capable of more.
And here, she gives it. Yagami gives her a slow nod as she approaches, though he =is= wise to pay attention here, much as he was implored earlier. When the woman's fingers lash out, Iori mildly steps to his right, swatting the grab away as the blaze dances about in his palm. And still flashing that arrogant grin. "You're better than this!" he chides, clamping his hand shut and quelling the flames. And just to follow through, the man steps forward, hammering his fist into Mature's chest. No need to wound the face, this time -- he just wants to nail her. "Show me your true anger!"
COMBATSYS: Mature interrupts Quick Punch from Iori with Quick Punch.
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Iori 0/-------/--=====|
COMBATSYS: Mature can no longer fight.
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Iori 0/-------/--=====|
Let him admire his handiwork--right now she's gritting her teeth mildly in irritation, doing very well to keep herself in check and ultimately from losing her head and fighting sloppily. She leaves the angry, brutal fighting to her partner--she prefers a more calculated style of applying the hurt. Unfortunately, she just can't seem to DO that to him.
But Mature is glad to be fighting with the Yagami scion--it's been a while, and she so enjoys the raw brutality of their encounter. The smile lingers, despite how wild and angry her blue eyes may be. "Holding back!?" she cries. She'll show him 'holding back.'
Despite the effort and then some she invests in charging and ultimately trying to bury the Yagami boy into the ground, the man simply dismissing her assault as if it were a joke. Looking aghast, Mature's expression goes sour quickly, brows furrowing as she snaps her eyes to those smoldering reds of his. She's better than this? The sheer audacity! Here comes the punch...
With little energy left in her, Mature meets his punch with a quick jab of her own, putting her fist into his chest as his makes contact into hers. "V-very...good, Yagami," the woman says, a small trickle of blood weeping from the cut across her lip. Her lips twitch, a harsh, macabre smirk suddenly pulling over her face. "Show...you my a-anger? Heh heh..." Her body sways, and with a stagger back and away, the woman falls to her knees, chuckling with delight.
"A woman of my standing does not lose her temper so easily, Yagami." A blue eye snaps up, her lips pulling tight over her teeth. "I don't give in to those urges like the rest of you!" A cough interrupts her chuckle, a hand quick to press against her chest as she hacks and wheezes.
Well, well -- the blonde =does= have some fight in her. The last thing he expected was for Mature to attempt to cut his punch short -- and appropriately, Iori staggers back with widened eyes as he receives the punch to his sternum.
His amazement is short-lived, however, as Mature sways, dropping to her knees shortly thereafter. Rising to his full height again, he casts his gaze downward at Mature. "... A woman of =true= standing wouldn't be fighting at all," he chides, once more tucking his thumbs into his pockets. "... A woman of =your= standing..." He shrugs his shoulders at that. "What would you call =that=, if not your 'temper?'"
Another chuckle follows, but by this point it seems Iori's already lost interest in standing around posturing. Turning on one heel, he walks over to the discarded coats. First he plucks his off the concrete, then he walks over to pluck up Mature's. "Hmph. Control is an illusion, Mature..." Draping the coats over his left arm, he extends his right to Mature in a belated attempt at chivalry. "It'd be better to realize when to let go."
COMBATSYS: Iori takes no action.
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Iori 0/-------/--=====|
COMBATSYS: Iori has ended the fight here.
She has some, but not enough to keep her on her feet and still swinging punches at the man's face. There's only enough to meet his punch with one of her own--hers, however, has considerably less oof behind it than his. As such, the Yagami heir is the victor here.
Stumbling back, the woman shakes her head a few times, despite her confidence in the wake of her embarrassing defeat. Ultimately she falls to her knees, trying to catch her breath and gather her wits. He knocked the crap out of her, he did. Mature, on the other hand, wouldn't DARE admit that. Never.
"I don't fight as often as you might imagine, mister Yagami," the felled blonde rebukes, blue eyes flickering up and eyeing the man suspiciously. "I pick my fights carefully." She pauses, letting her hands rise from her side to reach up and fix her blonde locks, tucking loosened locks back into their respective place. For all the welts and blood, she has to look presentable. "I call it an endearing charm," she jokes, a grin oozing across her lips.
Mature looks nonplussed as the man takes both coats, lips pursing lightly as she follows his trek back. Ultimately he offers his hand, and clearly the blonde has no qualms with accepting his hand. Slowly but surely she pulls herself to her feet, stumbling forward a small step or two before she stands on her feet steadily once more. "Is that so?" she asks, looking genuinely curious. "Well then. I'd hate to see you at your worst." Rather, she wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of his worst. A smile lingers.
"I must thank you," she adds, rather out-of-the-blue-like. "I haven't had that much fun in some time." She even offers a brief, polite bow to emphasize her thanks.
Well... of -course- Mature doesn't fight as often. That's why the tall man was offering pointers -- well, more because he was debunking her claim that control is everything, but still.
Surely even the crazy man can gain a couple points of respect for offering the woman a hand up. Snorting lightly, he nods. "That... was only a fraction of my 'best.'" He's only being sincere here. He -could- be more of an ass to her. But really... as stated before, he rather -likes- it when women stand up for themselves and try to beat his face in, even though he'd rather mock them for venturing away from the kitchen.
Her sudden admission catches him a bit off-guard though, as noted in his widening eyes. "... It was..." Yagami deliberates for a few moments before agreeing with a nod. "... fun." A more lighthearted smirk, at that.
Iori offers the coat back to Mature, only slightly worse for wear from its encounter with the pavement.
The audience, as it were, hurriedly goes back about its business, not wanting to anger either of the aggressive fighters. The pickpocket? Oh, he woke up and left long ago, while the two were fighting.
And, as the audience starts chatting away again, Iori bows. "... We'll meet again soon, I'm sure." Iori's never wanted to be tied to a particular committment. And then... he turns to walk past Mature -- he =did= tell her to get out of his way, after all.
Log created by Mature, and last modified on 21:02:40 12/07/2005.