Description: Ninja do not always ambush you from the darkness. Some of them call you politely, on your mobile phone, and invite you to lunch. Kiyoko never actually gave Riko her contact number, but that's not the point. No, Riko has her reasons. Kiyoko knows that, of course. Or at least, she's about to find out.
Plastic taps against plastic, a rapid stacatto beat in time to unheard music. It's soft enough, just barely, that it doesn't sound too obtrusive against the background murmur of the cafe a few streets off the Village district, towards the outskirts of the city proper. The end of the ballpoint pen raps against the tabletop, picking out a rapid drum beat. Whatever the song must be, it's fast. Probably, anyway.
For no sound actually escapes the headphones wrapped round Riko's ears. She reclines in the plush booth seat, her legs stretched out beneath the table, crossed at the ankles - which can't be as comfortable a position as it might seem, given that her feet are /still/ clad in her trademark in-line skates. She gives no sign of discomfort, though, as she idly beats the pen against the table surface.
After a moment, she lifts it, flicks the nib out, and scribbles another line on the notepad in front of her, the words flowing over the faint stenciled outline of a cartoon panda present on each page of her stationery.
Riko ignores, for the most part, the chatter around her. It's a Western-style diner, which means for the most part tragically Bastardiz---er, Japanese-interpreted American, on a low budget. That means a tiled floor and stainless steel surfaces that -wish- they were chrome, cheap fast food, and a clientile of mostly teenagers. Especially now on this afternoon.
She scribbles a bit more before pausing, then tapping the pen again. Riko's seated facing the door, but doesn't appear to be looking up. She is, though, clearly waiting for someone.
The fact that Riko had her number wasn't what was surprising, but rather that Riko had a reason to call her at all. Maybe it shouldn't have been so since she was friendly enough the last time they met, but Kiyoko figured that Riko probably had better things to do than call up mild acquaintances. A meeting at a diner on the outskirts of the city? Sure, why not? It's about right for a meet up between to teenaged girls, whether or not one is a ninja who happens to be a teenager and the other is a teenager who happens to be a fighter.
The quiet sound of shoes on concrete are the first sign that she decided to show up. The next is her silhouette in her window, and finally her form as she opens the door and steps in, a telltale chiming of ringing bells announcing her presence to the employees. Her head twists about this way and that as she looks around for the person she's meeting, and it doesn't take her long. Riko's sitting somewhere that's easy to find.
The purple haired Justice student walks over and gives a small wave and takes a seat across from the young ninja, a light smile on her face. "Hey. You're right, this place was easy to find."
Riko doesn't look up. The stereo earphones are still over her head, the pen still in her hand. For a moment, it looks like she hasn't noticed Kiyoko's arrival...until she replies in a voice just loud enough to reach Kiyoko's ears without straining, "Oh yeah. It's quite popular with the smaller local schools. Cineplex down that way, some shopping..."
She flips her pen in her fingers, pointing out the eatery's front window to a building further down the block. Then the ink-dotted nib twirls, sketching an arc round the table's immediate vicinity, to the other teens filling the place.
"...hobby store next door," Riko adds. Indeed, it seems a few of the tables in the cafe have coloured sheets of paper and glossy-printed books open on them, complete with plastic tokens and the faint rattle of dice.
Finally, Riko lifts a hand to her head, pulling off the headphones, just as she thumbs her MP3 player off. The small interval between removal of the earpieces and the final end of the music blasts a brief few notes, distorted by distance.
Riko looks at Kiyoko finally, her eyes half-lidded.
"It's a good place to share secrets," she says, "Fukakami-san. Care to guess why?"
Kiyoko's the observant type, but even she hadn't been /that/ observant. They really must teach these ninja folk some crazy tricks for noticing details and memorization. Still, she's at least quick to know what Riko's talking about when it's pointed out to her, which isn't -terrible-. "I guess so. I've never really been down this way." Not a terribly bad little area to be, if you live around the spot.
"Secrets..." she says quietly. Hmm. Why would this place be good for secrets. She shrugs, "Only things I can think of are either the noise, or the fact no one who matters is going to be here to hear them." Whether she's right or wrong she doesn't know, but she'd put her money on wrong.
She leans back in the cushioned booth, relaxing. She's in good physical condition but a long walk is a long walk, and a bit of rest is nice to have when available. Riko's first words also seem to have meaning in them. This isn't just some friendly get-together between two girls at a restaurant if she opens up conversation by talking about secrets. She'd say as much, but it's nothing Riko wouldn't already know. She was the one who invited Kiyoko here, after all.
"Maa, maa," Riko murmurs, "close enough."
She clicks the end of her ballpoint, then slips the pen into an inside pocket of her raincoat, slotting it beneath her lapel. Riko leaves the notebook on the table, though, the panda-emblazoned bit of stationery resting in front of her, covered in neatly printed handwriting. She doesn't bother to conceal it, though the distance might be great enough to make it difficult for Kiyoko to read, especially since from the other girl's perspective it would be upside down.
"But," Riko continues, "between the girls talking about the movie -there-..."
She tilts her head to one side, indicating a booth across the cafe where an animated group are chattering with illustrative hand gestures. This done, Riko angles her head again, a few strands of hair slipping down to meet her eyes. She brushes them aside with a small gesture.
"...and the boys over -there-," she continues, pointing at a different table, where a bunch of students have an old-fashioned Dungeon Master's screen set up with appropriate maps and miniatures.
"Nobody'll even notice," Riko says, "if you happen to call me a ninja, ne? Or if we say anything else that might be overheard."
It's better than a flat out, cheerful 'Nope!', so Kiyoko will take it. So instead of being noise and people listening it's that so many others are around they look distinctly inconspicuous. That's fine with her. Kiyoko's eyes do go to the little notebook but she doesn't decide to try to read it, both for the very reasons mentioned and the fact that the panda is enough to placate her curiosity.
"Okay, I think I get it." She says, obediently turning her eyes towards the groups of people motioned to in order without turning her head. She's no spy, and it's unlikely to impress Riko, but there's no reason to call attention to themselves when she knows better. "So we're safe, for the moment. I guess that's a perk of not being overtly powerful. If I had a huge fan base like Sakura or Ken we'd probably get mobbed showing up here." The benefits of being a scrawny weakling? Perhaps.
"Or," Riko points out, "they'd be looking for someone in a Tai Chi outfit..."
The younger girl sweeps a hand across the table.
"...which you're not wearing."
She smirks.
Riko herself is garbed in what's become her usual clothing in the past few months, a long and slick yellow raincoat, thrown over t-shirt, shorts, and in-line skates. It's fairly distinctive, but not so much when she's sitting in a booth like this, only her upper body visible. Nor does she have the same name recognition of the fighters Kiyoko has mentioned.
And if anyone /does/ visually recognize Riko, well, what they're more liable to notice is the coat. Not the face.
"Just an exercise," Riko murmurs, as she plucks a menu card from the edge of the table, from where it's wedged between the salt and pepper shakers, "there's no harm in practicing paranoia. Hungry, Fukakami-san? They do a surprisingly good salad."
Kiyoko rubs the back of her head. "I guess. A real fanatic would probably be able to recognize their idol on sight no matter what they're wearing, though." Well, Riko'd probably know better than she would anyway. It is true that she stands out a whole lot more when she's all dressed up for a fight.
"Uh...huh." Practicing paranoia? Yep, this girl is definitely up to her neck in the whole information gathering business. Maybe it's good if you need to protect your identity, but there's nothing that's made Kiyoko think she should need to. But she'll play along. "Not really, but a salad isn't that filling, and it does sound good." It's also nice and good for her, something that comes to her mind when she remembers the pan-fried takayoki Riko stick-fed her during their last encounter.
This brings Kiyoko sitting there, thinking that she should probably come up with a topic of conversation. But it dawns on her. She really doesn't know anything about Riko. The only thing she can really inquire on, the deal with SNF, she already brought up the last time they met. What's she going to do, ask what music she has on her headphones? Nosily ask about what's on the notepad? It seems somewhat silly and pointless to her. So what takes the place of those questions is silence. Awkward silence, were you to ask her.
A silence filled by Riko flagging over a waitress, ordering a pair of salads and two drinks - taking charge of the situation again, without bothering to consult Kiyoko further. As the woman leaves, Riko turns back to the other girl. Riko rests her elbows just below the table edge, her arms and hands coming together, fingers twining. She gives Kiyoko a look of scrutiny.
"So," Riko says, finally, "all -that- said..."
She smiles, her lips curving.
"...why do you -think- I asked you here?"
Mmm, guessing games. "Not to have their famous green salad, that's for sure," is the first comment that comes from Kiyoko's lips. What comes after is more thoughtful, but no closer to an actual guess. "You probably have something to tell me, or have something you want me to tell you, if you think that not being paid attention to is important. I don't think you'd drag me all the way out here without a good reason." ...well, it could be that she happens to live in the area, but that doesn't occur to Kiyoko.
"I really don't know. Before I got here I thought you might just want to get to know me better or something. But now." She pauses, "I donno, it seems like you're the type of person who has a reason for everything they do, and chatting with some highschool girl you've met a few times isn't a very good one."
"Hmm," Riko muses, making a thoughtful noise. She gives a little nod, though she doesn't break eye contact as she dips her head. Her dark eyes stay fixed on Kiyoko, studying every inch of the other girl's reactions, carefully watching each and every movement, all the planes of her face.
Riko's own features, on the other hand, are a deliberately constructed mask. She -is- smiling, but it's not entirely clear whether the expression is genuine. Especially after all she's said. Sitting across the booth from Kiyoko, Riko remains silent for a few seconds more, before winking, once, eyelid and lashes fluttering in a conspiratorial fashion.
"Single-factor explanations," Riko chides, "are too simple, Fukakami-san. Why can't it be this...-and- that? There's never just -one- reason. People are complex, ne?"
She turns one hand, palm facing the ceiling, her last two fingers curled - the others pointing towards Kiyoko.
"What if," Riko asks, "I -do- think you are an...interesting person? But -also- have an agenda?"
She brings up a good point. Why indeed not? There's nothing that says the two options are mutually exclusive, after all? "I guess I figured that one of 'em wouldn't be something that mattered at all to your reasoning." She then shakes her head and rubs the back of her neck, "Looks like I have a lot to learn about being this sort of thing, though."
The Justice student hums for a moment, "I think you're wrong though. Sometimes there is just one reason. Maybe not for you, but some people don't think through their decisions as carefully as all that." Not that it gives her previous statements any more credence than they had before, since it was Riko who she was supposed to be guessing reasoning for. "Y'know, you sure are confusing for a fourteen year old." That's a cop out, but so far any actual attempts to play along have met with abject failure on her part, or at least they have in her eyes, so playing along isn't quite so attractive option anymore. "You're really holding all the cards here, so I'll just say it. Yea, I donno why you want me here. Care to enlighten me?"
"Well," Riko murmurs, "there's always conscious and -unconscious- reasons, Fukakami-san. I will, though, get to the point. I don't like to lie. It always seems so..."
She stops, mid-sentence, searching for the right word.
"...amateurish," Riko concludes, delicately, with a tiny little smile.
She leans back in her seat, reclining against the padded cushions of the eatery booth.
"You have," Riko observes, "been training to improve your health. Well. -One- reason anyway."
Her eyelids curve, along with the slender arches of her brows.
"Now, if I told you I had a technique which might..."
Riko stresses the word.
".../might/..."
"...help," she returns to a normal voice, "what would you say?"
Riko's first statement only seems to confuse the matter further in her eyes, but it does at least seem that she's willing to just up and spill the beans for her. Probably a good thing, considering that the current guessing game ended up stumping her so hard so quickly.
Amateurish. Such a statement at least seems to prove to Kiyoko her own thought that this little ninja does things deliberately for reasons. Professionals are usually pretty sure of their reasons behind actions, and when they act seemingly on a whim it's really because they've learned to trust their instincts. Well. Good professionals, anyway.
"Yea. That's... pretty much the entire reasons my parents wanted me to learn to fight, really. If I didn't give them an ultimatum I probably wouldn't even have learned the 'fighting' part at all, when it comes right down to it."
Kiyoko carefully considers her reaction before she speaks up. "I'd... say that I was interested in what it was, and why you think it might help. I -do- want to stay healthy, and every little bit I do ends up mattering."
Pressing her lips together, Riko nods, quietly. Again the movement isn't very much, a tightly controlled motion with little excess to it. While her manner is not entirely serious - indeed, she's still smiling slightly - neither is she inclined towards wanton humour.
"Believe this, Fukakami-san - I hope you /do/ remain healthy. I would be," Riko says, "somewhat...unhappy...if your condition worsened."
The background noise of the diner, the chatter of noise filtering from the other booths and tables, provides a distinct background hum when Riko speaks, but her words are carefully modulated, pitched such to reach Kiyoko's ears without requiring any undignified raising of voice on Riko's part. Her tone is subtly different from earlier, her wording specific.
"Yet it isn't pure altruism, do understand. This -is- an experiment for me. I do not know if you -can- use this technique. I do not know if it will improve your situation. I cannot safely say there is no...risk."
She chooses the term carefully.
Then her smile widens, her eyes glimmering.
"I wish to find out, hm?"
"Yea," Kiyoko states, "Me too." And it's only a quarter joke. She's had enough time spent in hospitals that the thought of having to spend more time in them annoys the heck out of her. The thought of what an even more serious turn for the worse could mean still scares her too much to spend serious thought on.
The next part almost gets her to laugh, but she controls it and holds it inside. "I kinda figured if you were going to offer me something like that there'd be a flipside to it. I guess 'an experiment' is probably the simplest I could hope for, too." She smirks a little, "Who knows what a Ninja could mean if she used the word 'debt' or 'favor' instead." She does her best to keep her voice at the appropriate level. Simple enough since she's making an effort to do so, but with nowhere the control Riko has.
"I guess if there's risk I'll probably want to know how much. But really... fighting at all is a pretty huge risk, on my part. Unless it was really super dangerous I'd probably be willing to give it a shot."
"I'll make sure you read the end user license agreement," Riko retorts.
Suddenly back to her usual more teasing self, she gives Kiyoko a wry look, tapping one finger against the notebook lying in front of her. Riko's fingernail traces the loops and whorls of her carefully penned caligraphy, black ink covering the panda-emblazoned paper. Picking it up, she flips it shut, covers closing, and hands it to Kiyoko.
"Some of that," Riko says, "you probably already know...if whoever taught you is doing their job."
Riko gives a gallic shrug, holding her hands up.
"Can't hurt. Read it first. More later, ne?"
A clink of plates interrupts the tableau, as the waitress returns, setting down two servings of salad and fruit drinks in front of the girls.
Riko nods to the woman, then daintily turns her attention to picking up her cutlery.
The girl nods her head to the witty comment, taking the meaning behind it more than the teasing itself, which just seems to be a part of Riko's nature. Her eyes are drawn to the finger tapping and whirling motions made on the notepad. She takes it when it's offered and tilts her head a little. "Hmm."
It's one of those moments when anticipation can be more exciting than an event itself. Almost anything at all could be written on the little pad. It could range anywhere from being completely trivial to her to world shatteringly deep and complex. It's unlikely to be at either extreme, but the only way to find out for sure is to flip open the top and start reading.
So of course that's when the salad comes. "Read this and everything will be revealed, huh? Alright." Excuse her if the pad is more appetizing to her than the salad set before her- she did say she wasn't all that hungry, though she won't spurn the drink, taking a sip of that. She opens the notebook and starts reading, so long as Riko doesn't say anything to stop her.
Riko doesn't. There's nothing groundbreaking or revolutionary there, at least not yet. Just basics. Simple reiteration of what the mechanics of chi are, the difference between the chi of the environment and that of the individual...and how to focus it within.
She watches Kiyoko carefully, though, gauging her reaction. Riko lifts her fork, lightly stirring the contents of her own dish to better mix in the dressing, before bringing a speared leaf to her lips.
Nothing revolutionary. At least, not yet. But then it's almost a certainty that the kind of terminology familiar to Riko is /not/ that used in whatever one of the myriad variations of Tai Chi Chuan that Kiyoko is versed in. Before anything can be accomplished, it would be wise to ensure Kiyoko doesn't accidentally explode from the spiritual energy version of mixing up Imperial and Metric units of measurement.
And again, Riko reflects, she -doesn't- know how much Kiyoko has studied the subject. This might well be the first written manual she's encountered.
Riko chews, swallowing. Then she takes a sip from her drink, moistening her lips and throat.
"Probably need a practical demonstration," Riko murmurs, "sometime later. If you're still agreeable...Fukakami-san."
More fruit drink is consumed as she reads. It's interesting, but she definitely has a grasp on the knowledge contained within- so far. "Hmm..." The easiest thing to notice by looking at her is that it's not startlingly new. There's no little gasp, no slight widening of the eyes. She doesn't lean forward as people tend to do when they read or listen to something they're terribly interested in.
"This is... a whole lot like what I've been taught. It's a bit more detailed and... dissected, but learning to control and balance chi; that's pretty much the sum total of what I've been taught for helping to maintain my health." Though yeah, there's the physical exercise too, but any half competent doctor can inform you of the health benefits of that.
She keeps on reading, definitely curious to see what all this is leading up to, or if it's leading up to anything at all. She switches the notebook to her left hand, carefully picking up her fork with the right so she can at least attempt to eat her salad and read at the same time. The result is slow eating, and a slight drop in reading speed, though not comprehension. "A demonstration? Sure."
"Maa, maa," Riko repeats again. She seems increasingly fond of the expression. She waggles her fork slightly at Kiyoko, a piece of green veggie speared on the end.
"Control and balance is fine," Riko says, "and I suppose your Tai Chi Chuan is based enough on it. But that's mostly using what you -have-...and keeping it in harmony..."
Riko shakes her head.
"But you need -more-, Fukakami-san, and your chi must do what it does not -typically- do...in response to your -will-. Control, yes. But balance, no."
Riko munches on a lettuce leaf, then smirks.
"We'll see, though, if what doesn't kill you...makes you stronger."
Ok, so it seems despite the fact that she read the information given to her she /completely/ missed the point. Well, that's what happens when you're conditioned to do so. "...wait, what?" She blinks a couple of times and looks up from the notepad now, setting it down and focusing on the small ninja across from her.
"So you mean you want me to deliberately /unbalance/ my chi?" Well /now/ she's gotten her attention. It's something that never would have crossed her mind in a million bajillion years if someone else hadn't brought it up. "I'm... not even sure what that would do at all. I guess if it was in a controlled way it might help." It'd definitely do /something/ too. Riko probably has a much better idea than her on what, but there's no doubt it'd have some kind of affect or another.
"Um, okay. Yea, I think I'd be willing to try that. I don't really know on what might happen, but I'm willing to give it a shot." She then pauses and adds with great gravity, "And you were right- this salad is good."
"I'm not always right," Riko answers, holding up her glass. She touches her lips to the straw, taking a sip of the cool beverage. Then she lifts it as if in toast.
"Still...what doesn't kill you," Riko repeats, with a smile, "makes you stronger."
Log created on 05:54:17 03/28/2008 by Riko, and last modified on 10:22:48 03/28/2008.