Description: Before the planned assault by the combined forces of Imawano and Himezaki, Zaki meets up with Sakura, to talk about the upcoming mission, to keep the Ansatsuken prodigy informed.
Sunshine City may be in uproar, even with the apparent 'retreat' of the Ladies' Team the battle continues to rage in almost guerilla fashion, but there are a handful of places that remain a sanctuary from the chaos. It's late in the day when Aoi Himezaki makes her way to the cheerful workshop squatted upon the fringe of the outer city, stealing through shadow in rather uncharacteristic fashion; in spite of her aggressive, confrontational proclamation to the city's law enforcement, she has plans that are better not endangered by direct conflict.
She's similarly withdrawn, brooding and thoughtful in mien, as she steps through the rays of sun alighting through clouds of dust and curling smoke onto the stone floor of the little garage. Slipping between the hanging corpselike hulk of two suspended engines, Zaki comes to a stop in the middle of the floor, arms folded about her midsection and vulpine gaze angled low toward the more obvious front entrance of the workshop. Her message to Sakura was simple-- sent via a text message from another girl's phone.
'You saw the news? New plan. Meet this evening, 6:30pm. Location:'
The enclosed map image was low quality, but it's easy to spot this location. It's fairly isolated from anywhere else notable, and well known about town as a neutral ground in the sprawling battlefield of Sunshine. A few words in the right ears have secured privacy, of course, but they'd be safe meeting here anyhow. Unexplained is why they can't simply meet at the Ladies' Team's makeshift headquarters; but it should be at least somewhat obvious from the news report. Or rather, from the details of Zaki's own vitriolic speech.
The sukeban is inwardly impatient as she waits. As she said to Hyo, she's waited too long.
This will be an end to that.
Did she see the news? Of course she saw the news. She's been holed up in the inner city--perhaps paradoxically to a girl who still watches TV like The Wire and Law & Order, actually a lot safer a location than Outer Sunshine, at the moment--fretting, especially when she saw the video of Yokota and Hamada being... branded. Of course she understands that this is more than just some tournament, more, in some ways, than the gang wars which engulf Metro City, and hundreds of thousands of locations around the world, as exotic as wintertime Moscow and as plain and pedestrian as Detroit, Michigan. But to see a girl she knows--if only in passing, really--tortured...
She'd responded to the text message with a simple 'Okay.'
And in the gathering dusk, the sun broiling the city with rays filtering through the soot and corruption to a paradoxically beautiful dark orange, Sakura shows up. Having been a fine, upstanding citizen and visitor to the great city of Sunshine, she hadn't needed to be quite so furtive, even if she is acting on behalf of and in league with the gangleader stirring up the pot. Still, some precautions are in order; when she arrives, she arrives jogging, done up in the usual style she wears for such things--oddly enough, the same getup she was wearing when she ran into Zaki -before- this all really got started. The colors are maroon and white, though, this time, and she's wearing full on, nylon training pants. No sense in inviting trouble. She stops near the workshop, as if considering stopping in to buy a bottle of something out of a vending machine, and then walks into the garage.
When she sees Zaki, those brown eyes tighten a little, and the first words out of her mouth aren't a hello or a nice to see you, but: "Hamada... the other girl.. have you heard anything about them? What happened? How did they--" It takes an almost visible effort to stop herself, falling silent after the outburst.
Kusagno always had too much energy. It's probably one of her better qualities; lending itself well to that 'never say die' attitude that characterizes her so in the many lengthy battles she fights through, tooth and nail, until the bittersweet end. With her own capricious - if predominantly ornery - attitude toward others, Aoi has begrudged the fighting schoolgirl that in the past, perhaps envying it. But then she's never been one for the sweet, preferring the bitter, hiding behind it as much as she hides behind her mask.
On this occasion, when she sees Kasugano, feels that ever-present energy from the jogging girl...
She actually opens her mouth to speak first, beaten to the draw as she lags behind by a half-second, prepared to say 'I'm glad you came' or 'It's good to see you' but missing it by a whisker. Such chances do not come along often, and in the glint of her intense stare there's not so much warmth as there is a desperate, animal weariness. Bags are visible beneath her eyes, forehead more creased than usual and posture not half so pridefully held as it normally is. In contrast to Sakura, Aoi is tired. Really tired.
"Adon." Her single word reply is all that's made for the moment, following hard and brittle on the immediate catching of Sakura's breath, the faltering of her words. A slow shake of Zaki's head sets that scarlet ponytail to slashing behind her. "I wasn't anywhere near when it happened, I'm guessing he found them on their way from the airport, and wanted revenge for what I did to him. The fucker will pay, Kasugano." Despite the forceful nature of her words they also lack their usual venom. It's a slow-burning, calculating sort of rage that lies beneath the weary haze settled upon the sukeban, her voice edged with a quiet sort of resolve. If anything, it might make her more dangerous. But it's odd to behold, Aoi unsettling without her customary act.
"But Abobo's the priority. He has to be. I've been contacted by Imawano, and he knows where our prey hides. We're moving in tonight at 1am, meeting at the old headquarters. Publicly, I've ordered my girls to leave the city, but..." She hesitates, as though still regretting a part of this decision, then finally draws her chin up, gaining the prideful glint of her usual self. "They're spreading out, running interference and holding the line while a few of us work on ending this hard and fast. Imawano's providing backup, but this is serious now. I'd ask you to stay and do what you can, but... I want you with me, Kasugano. You're the best we've got."
There was a time she'd never have admitted that so openly. Times change. War... changes people. Sakura knows that well.
Adon. Sakura had considered the former Emperor of Muay Thai--she'd heard, of course, that he'd lost that particular throne only recently, to one of Sakura's favorites, King--to be little more than a showboating, somewhat misogynistic nuisance fighter, the equivalent of that loud guy who just never shuts up but never has anything really interesting to say. A good fighter, hampered by his own misconceptions and blinded by his own views on the world. But to hear this... her fists clench. "Tell me when you go after him," she says, that voice of hers deceptively quiet and cored with something very like steel. "Or I'll just go after him myself..." Either way--no one gets into her for a friend, like that. She'd only barely met Hamada, but she knows. If they hung out together they'd be friends. And she can imagine--what if that were Hinata? Or, even worse, -Kei-?
But, back to the business at hand. "Imawano. I... thought I must've been hearing things, you working with him." Guess that shows how big this is. Bigger than the scandal and conspiracy that engulfed the schools of Southtown, in years past, the one that put all the kids against each other--ready for blood, unwilling to listen. Sakura is nothing if not adaptable, though, and the Wild Blossom of the Ansatsuken nods, after a moment.
"You can count on me. Maybe losing to Athena wasn't so bad after all... I can focus on this," she says, half to herself, brown eyes going slightly unfocused as she thinks for a moment. Right. "1 am? I'll need to get some rest before then." She'll need to be at her best, for sure. "What else can you tell me? About this or... anything else."
Friendship isn't something Aoi outwardly values-- and even inwardly, has a hard time admitting to herself. She certainly has allies, both short and longer-term, and the number of people she'll at least /trust/ has been steadily growing during these past few weeks of conflict. Whether that can be attributed to personal growth or merely the requirement of survival is a debatable point; though the truth is that it's both. For amongst the first times in her life, the sukeban has been wearing her heart upon her sleeve, as blackened and callous as that heart may be... at least just beneath the surface. She's peeling back the layers slowly.
'Friends', though. That one's still difficult.
"I'll tell you," she promises Sakura irrespective of how she sees Taiyo's most famous export, inclining her chin in the semblance of a bow to drive home the words. The intent. "But he's not my priority, Kasugano. I already tore Adon into strips; a creature like him just begs for attention, for recognition, and he's not acting with autonomy in this. I broke him. I /saw/ him broken. He's an animal snapping at the end of someone's held chain, only running free so long as they don't pull back on it and snap his pathetic neck..."
She pictures the faces of the two girls, herself, eyes narrowing with the weight of memory as she attempts to figure out whether she really should be so cold; though she sticks by her decision, ultimately, because of practicality. Running screaming after Adon would be responding to bait. Using her rage to strike back at what she envisions as the driving core of this apparently retaliatory assault... that's productive.
Just like working alongside the hated Hyo Imawano. A brusque nod is her response to hearing that name again. A simple acknowledgement, conveying that her thoughts have been precisely where Sakura's linger-- to the last time /they/ stood alongside one another, against him. This time it's different. Bigger, because it's not just Southtown, but more than that; surely they've all grown? Learned from their mistakes? That it took so long to unite against Justice High was a critical error. This time, they can preempt such.
"Rest, yeah. Me too. You fought well against Asamiya though. If you can almost take down someone like her..." Which is to say nothing of the way Zaki feels about the psychic, personally. "That could be enough. If we've got Kurosaki with us, as well as Imawano, that's as strong as we need to be. But there'll be others, too. You know that shouting idiot, Mr. Jones?" Of course Sakura knows him. She's probably seen all of his movies, much unlike Aoi; who's just exchanged facepunches with him. "He came to me, wanted in. The littlest Bogard's on the rampage, too, but I... don't know if we can count on him. He's on the right side, though."
She doesn't mention that she sent him packing with vague allusions and a direction toward her detective ally. Already she's beginning to think that was a mistake, that maybe she should chase him down and drag him into this. An emotion she expresses with a sideward flicker of vulpine eyes and an unseen grimace. Even now, it seems, Aoi won't share everything with those she calls her allies.
"There's one more thing, Kasugano."
Suddenly she's looking back with renewed intensity, chin raising and eyes flashing.
"The cloaked figure in that video, I've met him before. He found me when I fought my way into the industrial area, I thought we'd come to blows but he was almost... friendly. Wanted to arrange a meeting. I told him I'd be around, that he could find me where the fighting was thickest, and this is the first I've heard since. There's rumours of others found dead and tortured, and if he was watching me-- could move through the battle without being seen, by me or my girls... he could be anywhere, anytime. Maybe not just him. Whatever game Abobo is playing, he's got more pieces than we've reckoned on. Be careful, and don't trust anyone who hasn't proven themselves to you completely; /I/ trust your judgement, Kasugano, but make sure you do, too."
Sakura's response to Zaki is actually relatively calm and measured, considering the subject matter and that Adon is the one who apparently captured the girls that were then used in that propaganda video. "Maybe you didn't break him enough. Or maybe too much. Either way, whether you consider him a snapping dog or something else, he's still dangerous and powerful. I wouldn't dismiss him so easily." She is, honestly, quite surprised that Zaki hasn't already gone for Adon's head. That's definitely something Sakura would have been doing, immediately. But that just highlights the differences between the two; Zaki may consider this 'the fortunes of war', whereas Sakura views things in much more elemental light.
"Thanks," she says, absently. "She hurts, a lot. Skilled, too. It was fun." The Ansatsuken prodigy seriously hopes for more 'fun' fights in the future--there's nothing wrong with putting it all on the line for the serious stuff, of course, but fights like those--hard-fought as it was--are... almost relaxing. A gentler reminder of why she does what she does. Jones? Yeah, she's seen his movies. "Huh... drawing a lot of people in," she says, sounding impressed. There's no time to fangirl, though, and this would probably be the most inappropriate time ever to do so, except maybe if he showed up at the funeral of Chun-Li's father. Which Sakura wasn't even at! But if she were.
"You've met him before... I guess you really got to him, then. Do you think maybe he's the one behind all this? This... this 'Abobo'. I've heard some things about him but..." Kasugano shrugs. "I dunno. I guess it doesn't matter--in the end they'll all have to fall down. Guess I can't help but think about the King of Fighters, few years back, when I partnered up with Ken -and- Ryu and Alex... that guy at the end, he reminds me a little of this. Don't know why." A shake of the head.
"Whatever it is, that's not what's before us right now. 1 am? I'll be ready. You can count on me, Zaki, I promise."
"The bigger they are," Zaki murmurs without particular jocularity, rolling one shoulder in a shrug. She's shown a furious, unyielding rage on-screen - her wild stare and unruly actions depicted by now on national television. Sunshine's plight is drawing wider audiences through both the events of the tournament designed to 'assist' it and through her perhaps most of all; on this side of the Earth she's fast becoming a feared an cautionary figure, a spreading legend used to scare children to sleep. But while her focus has long been stated to be Abobo, it still doesn't quite seem personal, like this, as though he's just an obstacle...
Sakura's inference that he may be the tip of a greater iceberg, it's not a new theory to Aoi. But she's been so systematic in her approach since the first big push into Sunshine's gangland that she's never stopped to dabble in the maybes, simply seeming to accept that the big, brutish thug spoken in stammers about the street must be the first and perhaps only step in killing the strife besetting the city, and spreading beyond.
"Another man who sees himself as something more?" She ponders, gracing Sakura's weight of experience with deeper thought than any other's theories have been given, reaching up to rest a hand about the underside of that thick leather mask, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "It's possible. It was him who gave me Abobo's name; if he is an underling, he might be one with ambition. Dangerous, that. If we're heading into this at full steam, I don't doubt one of us will encounter him again. All we can do now is be careful."
She snorts slightly at that, too aware of her own failings in that regard. They're both a little brash.
"As you say, Kasugano. One step at a time. I'll see you tonight. Oh, and..." She's taken one step away before glancing back, shoulders suddenly slumping and head inclining, eyes lidding. "Thank you. For what's coming. I... might not get a chance to say it again, so." Her shoulders lift in tandem then, a loose and slightly helpless gesture. She doesn't explain herself-- but hopefully Sakura knows, that in the coming storm she'll need to have that mask - literal and figurative - well in place. All that she's shown, and given, the tired and genuine Aoi that Sakura has been shown... it's time for her to be buried deep beneath a veil of strength.
With that thought on her mind, Zaki turns with a swish of skirts, a gentle rattling of chain, and walks away.
Log created on 11:59:30 06/25/2012 by Sakura, and last modified on 11:04:30 06/26/2012.