Description: Tenma Kiryuu and Marisol O'Connell. Two people so very similar, but so often in conflict with one another. Until now. Now, in the aftermath of Jinchuu, something has brought these two together: They both really want to beat the hell out of Momo.
Gedo High.
It's a place that the likes of an esteemed Pacific High student would not belong. More over, it's the sort of place that someone like Marisol would be hanging around in. But for whatever unknown reasons, the fiesty redheaded bareknuckle boxer has made a less-than routine trip around to Gedo.
And it's earned her a few odd stares.
For one, she's been here before, and has a reputation amongst a few of the people around the school. She came here, she was loud and she was throwing punches at two of three Guardian Kings. Suffice to say, she made an impact of sorts of a handful of the student body. So it should come as little surprise that a few wary looks are sent her way as she trapses through Gedo.
She's looking for someone.
And his name?
"Tenma Kiryuu, are you deaf??" the girl barks, holding a young freshman by his t-shirt collar. Shaking and clearly distraught, the young man just stares up at Marisol, as if she were a car, and he the deer in its headlights. He is at a loss for words.
"I said," She shakes him like an insolent child. He flinches.
"Where is that idiot Tenma Kiryuu??"
Of course, the events of the Suiryuu are fresh in the minds of everyone who was on that doomed creepy ninja boat. For some people, they might even be good memories. For others, horrible and traumatic. But, for somebody like Tenma Kiryuu, overall it's pretty mixed. There were some good moments, but there were bad ones too. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the 'fiesty redhead' currently invading /his/ school is a central figure in at least two of the 'bad moments'.
By and large though, Tenma's injuries have healed. His lascerations have all faded, even the damage done to his eye - largely by getting his head smacked around by Birdie - is pretty much gone. The only real, significant injury that remains is the one dealt to his pride. After all... He didn't /win/.
"Dammit, what the hell is your problem?" wonders a voice, suddenly. A very familiar voice, in fact. One Marisol is probably loath to hear. That voice is actually coming from /above/ Marisol, from a figure lounging on the roof of the dojo, where it was previously asleep until Marisol's loud disturbance. Tenma, now wide awake half sits up, his bokken in its cloth sheath beside him, and the object that was covering his face so he could nap in the middle of the day - a magazine, whose cover suggests that, perhaps, Tenma wasn't enjoying it for its well-written and insightful articles - pulled off of his head with one hand and tossed carelessly to the side. "I know you're in love with me, Red, but you can't just go showin' up like this. Ain't very ladylike of ya."
A lot of the events aboard the Suiryuu are going to be memories that Marisol hopes to forget in relatively swift amounts of time. Especially those which involve the likes of Kiryuu and his merry band of morons.
And other inconsequential losses or humiliations. But that is neither here, nor now.
The now is, in fact, the poor sap in the fearsome mitts of Marisol O'Connell. He doesn't seem to know where she can, in fact, find the leader of the Guardian Kings. For what reason? It's uncertain, but for once, the half-Spaniard girl doesn't seem particularly upset or obviously angry, unlike the past few times she's actually tracked him down.
...and ultimately punched him in the face a few times.
Another firm shake of the freshman is given, but unexpectedly, a voice echoes from the roof above on the adjacent dojo. Blinking once, those smoky gray eyes shift, drawn toward the young swordsman. Briefly, those eyes roll, a put-upon sigh escaping her before she simply lets go the collar of the youth. Almost immediately the young man scrambles off elsewhere.
She observes him, as that magazine is pulled free of his face and tossed aside like a napkin. A brief glance gives her insight. One of those magazines? "What a pervert," she muses. "Really, I think Preston was right to worry about you weird Japanese boys and your dirty comic books. Were you reading it for ideas?"
A pause come. It's brief, and with an exhale Marisol shakes her head.
"Whatever. Anyway, get the hell down here, weirdo. And no, I'm not in love with you! Just get down here.
"We need to talk."
It's not as dirty as you might think; it's all non-nudes! Just... Really hot non-nudes in provocative poses with big boobs. Tenma wouldn't bring actual /porn/ on campus, Daigo would murder him. Heaving a sigh, he just shakes his head down at Marisol. "Nah, just givin' myself somethin' t' think about in case any ugly two-dollar skanks came by today. Good thing I was plannin' ahead, huh?" Of course, it's just his usual delightful personality at work here, he doesn't actually think Marisol is ugly!
The rest, well, that's arguable.
Finally, though, Tenma takes up his wrapped bokken and leaps off of the roof of the dojo, landing easily on his feet. "Seems t' me you never shut up, Red," Tenma says, slanting that bundle against his shoulder, lifting his chin to stare down his nose at the redhead, every line of him blaring pure unadulterated arrogance to the world. "So what d'you want, huh? Make it quick, I'm sure you've got a street corner t' get back to."
"Think about being the key word," the half-Spaniard girl is quick to interject with. Gray depths narrow, lips pulling into a thin line across her face as she dares to bite back a broad smirk. "Because Lord knows you'll never know the touch and feel of a real woman, Tenma Kiryuu." Pausing, she half-turns as he begins to stir from his rooftop perch.
"So yeah, it probably was a good idea to remind yourself of just how unfortunate your situation and lot in life is." The comment slung by Kiryuu seems to all but roll off of her shoulders with relative ease. In fact, Marisol does sport a brief, tiny little smirk in response, as Tenma leaps off the rooftop and lads a short distance away.
"Oh, grow up already," she responds, rolling her eyes and simply tossing her hand before she gently tosses her head. "And quit confusing me with your mom. Sadly, I have reason for being here today, as much as I'd hate to admit it." Because she'd rather be anywhere but HERE.
Lifting an eye, the girl turns her attention back onto Tenma.
"That little brat needs to PAY."
Similarly, Tenma seems largely unaffected by Marisol's own jabs. By this point, the two of them likely just do it out of reflex, don't they? How else are they going to deal with one another if they don't hurl insults and sometimes violence at one another? And really, bringing his mother into things? Tenma would almost like to see what would happen if his parents, staid and stoic Buddhist mystics, met Marisol. It would probably be /quite/ hilarious indeed.
But there's other things to occupy his thoughts than just wondering about meetings that will never happen. Tenma listens to Marisol's declaration, looking contemplative, his dark blue eyes focused on the redhead's grey. And he thinks, for a long moment. Of course, he knows who she must mean, and of course, he agrees. But he's not going to pass up the chance to be an ass.
"Whoa," Tenma says. "What did your kid ever do to you?"
Though their eyes meet, Marisol offers no expression within those smoky depths save for one thing: she is angry. And likely, she wagers, so too is Tenma. Because if there's anything about the two, it's that they are scarily similar in a lot of ways to one another.
Neither is just willing to ADMIT to as much, however.
Briefly, gray eyes widen before they narrow, Tenma's obviously assholish remark earning him a cold stare. There is a tense silence from Marisol before she simply exhales again, shaking her head in a disappointed fashion.
Then she lifts a hand and shoves Tenma firmly pushes the bokken-wielding young man.
"You know what I mean, asshole!" she exclaims as she thrusts a finger straight into his face. "That little brat that came out of nowhere. She was useless! In fact, she got in our WAY. If we hadn't had to worry about some little twelve year old with a racket, I bet we could have taken those invading idiots."
Full lips pull into a frown, brows furrowed in an obvious expression of disgust. "I cannot believe we lost so badly. What's more, we were the only people who got taken captive! Do you realize how utterly embarrassing that is, Tenma? I reFUSE to be humiliated like that! Not by some backstabbing little twerp!"
Clearly heated, the redhead just exhales loudly, arms thrown up into the air in a gesture of increasing frustration at the lot she has since been dealt during the tournament passed.
But she pauses briefly, if only to glare over her shoulder.
"You DO agree, don't you, Kiryuu??"
Well, Tenma got a rise out of Marisol on that one, so he feels pretty good about it. Angry isn't really the right word for how he feels right now, but as the subject of Momo continues to be brought up, so too does Tenma's ire rise. He has an even better reason for being mad at Momo than Marisol does anyway, as he got stabbed in the back by her /twice/, and he and Kenji nearly got killed for it the first time.
By the time Marisol glares back over her shoulder at him, Tenma is /directly/ behind the redhead, personal space be damned. She's probably used to being loomed over with that giant British idiot on her team, and Tenma is a good half a foot shorter than Preston, but you know what? He's still a fair bit taller than Marisol.
"Of course she got in our way," Tenma says, his voice dangerously quiet. "She was working for them the whole time. Turned on us on the other boat, even. Her and that cosplay idiot and the guy with the chains." Oh yes, Tenma remembers that situation all too well. But, alas, Momo was able to escape Tenma's vengeance then, and during their later encounter he was to busy busting Elle's face in.
Rise or no, Marisol is far more angered at the very idea that she and Tenma got backstabbed by a kid who probably isn't old enough to know how to do long division, or tie her shoes. Hell, Momo probably isn't even potty trained. But that little Taiyo High tennis star managed to screw two capable young fighters over.
And that does not bode well with Marisol O'Connell.
When she glances over her shoulder, Tenma is more or less right there, invading her personal space. For the moment, however, she sports a mildly bemused look before she simply nods her head and offers a scowl to the horizon ahead of her.
"If I would have known that from the get-go, I swear to god I would have punched her so hard in that innocent little face of hers it would take dental records for them to recognize her when she gets put into the hospital." Furrowing her brows further, the redhead's face darkens a little, lips tugging into the tiniest of devilish smirks. The thought is fleeting, of course.
When he mentions his team having been screwed over before, the redhead steps forward, putting distance between the two fighters before she pivots on her heel and faces him directly. "But why didn't you say something during the fight!?" she exclaims, gray eyes widened. It's a brief expression; a moment later, Marisol turns her eyes to the ground, teeth clenched as she curls a hand into a fist.
"Those bastards. How dare they shame us like that! And the nerve of that little twerp! Do you know she tried to bribe Preston after that silly tournament was over!! And she RAN like a coward from me when I was going to beat her face in! What kind of kid runs away from a fight?"
Not the Marisol kind!
"I was a bit busy with that guitar-slinging skeezebag and her knuckledraggers, if you didn't notice!" Tenma retorts, remaining all up in Marisol's grill as he exclaims right back at her. But in true girl form, Marisol's mood seems to be all over the map today, as she looks away and gets all angry about other stuff. He can't even keep up with this!
But taking Marisol's further comments as largely rhetorical, Tenma shrugs his shoulders and, lifting his free hand, extends his index finger an aims a poke right at the half-Spaniard girl's forehead to bring her attention back to, as he sees it, the here and now. "So what exactly d'you wanna do about it? What, the two of us hunt down whatserface and stomp a mudhole in 'er? That ain't exactly the epitome of bravery and the warrior spirit either, Red."
"Yes I am well-aware of what was going on, Kiryuu!" the girl exclaims back once more, gray eyes wide and her features poised in a rather incredulous expression. The nerve! To think he would assume she was not paying attention during that rather chaotic exchange of blows! Marisol is more astute than most likely give her credit for. But then, it's Tenma Kiryuu, and he'd probably rather die than give her credit.
But when she's poked, it seems to do the trick. Blinking once, her chaotic thoughts are quelled, and immediately gray eyes are swiveling up to look right at Tenma. "What are we supposed to do?" she echoes, sounding distantly thoughtful. Truthfully, Marisol hadn't thought that far ahead yet.
So clearly she has to pull a solution or something out of her ass.
"W-well," she begins, a fingertip pressing idly against her chin. "We could do it by ourselves? She already knows I want to beat the ever-loving crap out of her. But. ..she doesn't really know you'd do it." Her hand clenches into a loose fist, lightly slamming against the open palm of her opposite hand. A split-second later, a finger is pointed right at Tenma.
"You're the one who likes to provoke fights a lot." What? "So you should beat her up!"
Perfect plan, Marisol. PERFECT PLAN.
It's a pretty big ass, Tenma would probably say to be a jerk; surely there's room for lots of plans in there. This one, though, meets with a dubious look from the Guardian Kings leader, plainly obvious since he and Marisol are practically face to face. Who knows what sort of rumours this is going to start around Gedo!
"Do you practice being that dumb?" Tenma wonders, his mouth pulling into a wide frown. "Or is it from all that time y' spend on your back?" He leans in closer now, putting his face right in Marisol's, his dark blue eyes sharp as they fill the redhead's gaze. "I ain't your dancin' monkey, Red. If you're scared you'll chip a nail, why dont'cha get one of your teammates to do it? I'm sure that German idiot would jump at the chance to beat up a little girl, or even the Brit, or Dakini." He never did learn Pas' name, and it's entirely possible Marisol doesn't know /who/ he means by that nickname.
That, incidentally, is another sore spot for Tenma. That revelation did not sit well with him at all, though it's not something he's really expressed at all, to anyone. Not even to Hakuya. Of course, he hasn't really told anyone about his encounters with the Brazilian in the first place, so why would they even suspect that /he got his feelings hurt/? Most people would likely doubt that Tenma even HAS feelings.
Rumors be damned, Marisol just holds her ground, eyes meeting those blues of Tenma as he stands, perhaps scandalously close, to the Pacific High girl. The insult comes, and it does little more than earn him a cocky smirk. So he's going to be a dick?
"You're so predictable, Kiryuu," she responds coolly, lifting a finger and pointing it right into his face. "This is precisely the reaction I expected of the likes of you. I knew it!" She steps back then, hands drawing downwards, to rest akimbo on her curvy hips. Those full lips pull into a smirk as she holds her ground. "You're afraid of some little kid."
As for her teammates, Marisol just lifts a hand and waves it, practically doing so in Tenma's face as gray depths snap shut. "No, this has nothing to do with them, and I'm not dragging others who weren't involved in the fight into a battle that isn't their grudge to put an end to." A single eye opens, peering up at the Gedo boy.
"You should feel ashamed of yourself. It's not like I told you to send your desperate-for-a-date boyfriends in after some little tennis-playing twerp. Honestly, Kiryuu."
Marisol shakes her head. "Honestly!"
Turning on her heel, Marisol lifts her arms up overhead, folding them neatly at the elbows as she begins to pace away, presumably toward the exit of Gedo High. "Well, I see I've wasted my time in the most inefficient fashion possible. If you're not out for honor or at least to clear your otherwise tarnished name of that stupid encounter, then I'll do it."
She slows, feet ultimately coming to a pause before the half-Spaniard girl peers over a shoulder, right at Tenma. Full lips ease into a smirk.
"But I refuse to do it for YOUR sake."
Lifting a hand once more, she waves it over her shoulder.
"I still owe you an ass-beating for fucking that entire fight up. But I'm feeling a little generous today. I wouldn't want to hurt a cripple!"
Of course, Tenma's reaction to Marisol's behaviour is to snort, and straighten up, staring down at the redhead as she backs away. "You're still tryin' to send me on an errand, Red. What, are you so terrified of this little girl that you /need/ me to go after her?" He knows - or at least thinks he knows - reverse psychology when he sees it, and he's not falling for any of that nonsense. "But fine, you dumb cooze," Tenma says, irritably, swinging the cloth-wrapped bokken off of his shoulder and pointing it at Marisol. "You want /us/ to go after her? We /both/ will. We'll show her /together/ what it's like t' be on the receiving end of that garbage."
See, that's all Tenma wanted. He wanted teamwork, not Marisol trying to play Mistress of Puppets. But apparently that's a big, difficult demand for her! "But if you'd rather be a snippy little bitch than /cooperate/ with someone for once in your sad life - which, by the way, is the reason we got beat, that an' the midget abandoning us - you can go ahead. I'm sure you'll do great, an' hey, when she knocks you flat on your back, 'least you'll be in the position you're most used to, right?"
"Ha ha, terrified of a little racket-swinging backstabbing twerp?" A bark of a laugh escapes Marisol's lips, eyes widening briefly before they hood, her expression swiftly easing into a too-cool and clearly amused one. "As if. The problem is, she knows I want to punch her face in, you dolt. If she knows that, the little coward will run away. Don't you GET it?" Exhaling, the half-Spaniard girl shrugs her shoulders helplessly, her logic clearly too complicated for a Gedo student.
But her retreat is cut short, so to speak, as Tenma unshoulders his bokken and points it at her. Glancing toward him from over a single shoulder, Marisol offers him a stern expression, vaguely thoughtful as he offers a potentially acceptable compromise. The two of them fight together to bring down this prepubescent menace? Is such a feat even possible?
A heavy silence lingers between them in that moment. Clichedly, a heavy breeze passes between them, cutting through the courtyard of Gedo High.
"Ha ha. Deal."
But oh Tenma. Tenma, Tenma, Tenma. You ruin a moment so swiftly with an assassin's precision, words so swift to cut down a potentially "tender" moment between two bitter rivals!
In response, features twist, her expression darkening as she glares across the distance between the redhead and the bokken-wielding fighter. Is she going to retaliate in a fashion most typical of the Pacific boxer? As knuckles crack and her hand curls into a tight fist, it certainly seems this will be the answer.
But it doesn't happen. Marisol just smirks.
"Stop placing the blame on me. It's sad to see you denying the obvious truth! As for being laid flat by some little girl, you're sorely mistaken. Then again," Marisol shrugs, her eyes drawing shut as she lets loose a broad grin.
"I probably have more to worry about from some tiny toddler than the likes of you and your feather light punches, Kiryuu."
Fact: Girls don't have logic. Foreign girls are even worse, and they don't get much more foreign than Marisol. As for the 'moment', well, Tenma clearly couldn't care less about it, given the way he quite intentionally hurls more verbal abuse at his, dare we say it, /partner/ for this little exercise. Marisol's knuckles can crack all she wants them to, Tenma rolling his neck to produce similar sounds. There's not an ounce of intimidation present on his part, he's quite willing to throw down with the redhead if she's decided to get the panties he's sure she probably doesn't wear all in a bunch.
"I'm just sayin', it's a reflex for you, is all." Tenma wonders, his tone and expression elaborately innocent. "Tell you what though, once we beat the midget up an' stuff her in a dumpster or somethin', if you manage t' stay on your feet an' keep your clothes on for once, I'll buy ya ramen." It's a gesture! A peace offering! Clothed in Tenma calling her a slut, sure, but...
It's a damn good thing Marisol isn't a mindreader, or worst, a Psion, because chances are if she could pry into that dirty little mind of Tenma Kiryuu, she would punch him until he stopped breathing. She has fairly good logic! And yes, she does, in fact, wear panties! All of these unfounded misconceptions and beliefs about the girl from Pacific High with a bad attitude!
Regardless of his thoughts, Marisol remains relatively calm and easy, a first, perhaps, for the two being in the same room with one another. Somehow, neither has started a fight with the other. Somehow, the half-Spaniard girl has kept her cool, enough to keep from truly snapping at the leader of the Guardian Kings she so loathes.
It truly is a Christmas miracle, if ever there was one.
Silent, Marisol mulls over the proposal further, hands still on her curvy hips as she holds her ground. The tiniest of grins dares to haunt her lips, but she refrains for now. But when he offers ramen? The smirk widens to nigh-epic proportions.
"Fine, fine, whatever," she ultimately responds, turning away once again as she waves a hand over her shoulder in physical response to Tenma. "I'll see what I can do to arrange this little soiree so it doesn't seem outright brutal or somethin'." Feet stir, and slowly but surely the redhead begins to walk forward.
"But I don't like ramen. If your little poor-kid budget can afford it, we'll have REAL food to eat," she calls over her shoulder as she walks away.
Outright brutal is how Gedo High rolls, though, when stuff like this needs to go down. But, fine, if Marisol wants to keep this 'personal business', so will Tenma. Besides which, he's perfectly capable of being nonviolent when the situation calls for it, and while Marisol /does/ deserve to be soundly beaten once a day on general principle, that's not his responsibility; it's the responsibility of whoever did such a terrible job of raising Marisol. With the redhead agreeing, Tenma grunts once and turns away, glancing back at her last call towards him. Doesn't like /ramen/? What kind of a monster is she?
"Yeah, yeah," he responds, rolling his eyes. Again with the poor talk! Well, he'd tell her about his family and their general lack of poverty, but it's not like she'd believe it. Maybe one day he'll hit her in the face with money. Nah... Been done before. "Probably wants to eat potatoes or somethin'," Tenma grumbles as he walks back towards the school. SHE RUINED HIS NAP, TOO.
Log created on 23:16:31 11/03/2007 by Tenma, and last modified on 18:55:54 11/10/2007.