Description: A chance encounter in an airport leads to Miu crossing paths with Rust. Miu is exhausted after such a meteoric rise through the ranks of the league, and Rust is looking for a fight. Or at least, he thinks he is. Drawn into conversation, it isn't long before tensions run high, and the stress that Miu has been under explodes outwards ... in a rather less explosive fashion than things could have been! Which is something. But, by the time they part ways, both Rust and Miu have more questions to answer than they started with.
Seattle, Washington, USA... Thursday evening.
It's two to three hours after Howard's interview with Ken within the Masters Stadium proper, and evening's already set to a very rainy night. The rain's gotten so bad that the airport's not going to be sending off planes for a good long while.
Mr. Rust's passing the time in a coffee shop within the airport proper, having a good brew or two to stay awake and keep some of his thoughts organized while some other Pacific faculty members brought along for the Pacific staff meeting are off doing things like, say... talking on phones, messing around on laptops, complaining loudly at terminals... those sorts of things.
"So you're planning on making a comeback, aren't you?" Asks an old, squat man behind the counter.
"That's... that's right, yeah," the shop teacher nods as he has himself another sip of his coffee.
"My brother used to do that sorta thing... didn't stop until he was fifty." The guy behind the counter continues.
"Old age?" Howard asks.
"Naw, broke his back, paralyzed from the waist down." The guy says. "The way your bones've been makin' noise, you'll want to watch out for that."
The man with the very bad combover seems to shrug the thought off as he drinks the coffee, but, it is true - you can't fight and expect to come out completely uninjured in the long term. The injury in his right hand remains proof of that.
"Anyway, altogether that coffee's gonna run you $9.47."
Slapping down a ten dollar bill - man, he's really glad there's so many places in Southtown that takes the US dollar so he doesn't always have to jockey between that and the Japanese yen those few times he crosses international borders between where he lives and the country of his origin - the shop teacher heads out of the coffee shop with duffel bag in hand that contrasts greatly in professionalism to the rest of his red formal wear that he honestly can't wait to just get off.
But no, the boss insists that the power tie needs to stay on. He hates this tie so much.
America.
Miu has passed through America in the past. She'd only been meant to be here a few hours, but even the greatest fighters are at the mercy of the international travel system. The Neo League is taking her all over the world, and her internal clock is so messed up she's not sure if she should be tired or if she should be awake. The fact is, it doesn't really matter how she's meant to be feeling. She's been burning the candle at both ends all week, now, and, even though it was Friday, she's not meant to get much rest. More challenges kept piling up for her, and she'd considered it a point of pride that she wouldn't deny anyone who wanted to fight her. This is about discovering the limits of her power. Pushing herself to the very limit. She'd never done it before. She's been beaten, yes, but she's rarely reached as deep as she has this week, and she's certainly never done it so much.
The girl hides it well. Her clothing is impeccable, her hair, carefully controlled. Even her expression is the same as it ever is; that neutral look which has graced the television screens so often in the past few weeks, doesn't seem to change much at all. Her eyes, though. They can tell one so much about a person, and she has very, very tired eyes.
She's doing her best not to draw attention to herself, without actually actively hiding. Shuffling through the airport with her small, black suitcase. The girl is, nevertheless, drawing a few looks. She'd avoided the spotlight for a long time, but now, it seemed, people knew who she is.
Finding a monitor, coincidentally quite close to the coffee shop, the girl stares at the words for a few, long moments before her english kicks in and she realizes she's going to be here for at least three hours. She, can see no reason to avoid it. So, moving to settle down on an empty chair, she tucks her bag underneath her legs, and, gratefully, closes her eyes. A few hours, and a plane journey, between herself and the next challenge. Yes, it would be good to sleep, for a time.
Howard passes by one of his co-workers along the way out of the shop. "So, uh, how much longer are we gonna be--"
"Same as last time, Howard." Replies said co-worker, so very tired of him asking this over and over. "We're not going home anywhere fast."
"Well, shit, do they expect us to make it back on time and do our job tomorrow?" Howard asks, exasperated, "this is gonna count against our, our paid leave, isn't it."
"Them's the breaks from on high, I'm afraid." The coworker shrugs. "I was hoping to take King of Fighters off so I could go watch... I got tickets to Kenya."
"Kenya?" Howard scratches the side of his head with his free hand.
"Yeah, at least one of the matches are going to be taking place there, I heard... man, I remember how pissed I was when I bought tickets to the Mr. Big and Kyo fights in World Warrior 2007, only to hear they kept delaying and rescheduling it."
"Jeez, that was... that was silly." Howard nods.
"Ooh, hey," comes an entirely different voice from a passerby as they gawk at a young girl sitting in a seat just trying to get shut-eye, "is that Miu Kurosaki?"
"Holy crap it is!" Says one of their cohorts as they get out a flash camera. "Get your camera out, man, this could be our raise!"
"Wha?" Howard turns his head as the cameras, obnoxiously, begin to flash in Miu's direction. Something a number of other tired would-be passengers waiting to get out of here likely won't be appreciating either!
Miu doesn't deal well with the limelight. For her, it had never been about fame. She would be much happier in a world in which fighting was approached with the same kind of enthusiasm as, say, curling. But that isn't the world in which she lives. No. People are going to keep bothering her, no matter what she does or where she does it. The only small mercy to it is that, eventually, the spotlight will pass to someone else. Though, she'd have to endure it for at least as long as the King of Fighters Tournament.
When the cameras start to flash, the girl's brow furrows, and she stirs with a groan. Frustrating.
Standing up, the girl looks directly at the cameras, and, perhaps subconsciously, some of those famous feathers begin to drift from her sleeves. She's, angry. Though she's trying to keep it bottled up inside, she's used her power so much over the past few days that it is getting easier and easier to just, slip into it. Let it flow through her, ease her fatigue and bring tantalizing strength to her limbs. Miu's inner strength threatening to bubble to the fore.
"Go. Away." She says, each word pronounced with a terrible finality. It would normally be hard to think of a girl so small as Miu as being threatening, and yet, the world has seen what she is capable of, and although her expression is carefully controlled, her anger is unmistakable in the clipped, short tone of her voice. "Now."
"Christ that's bright!" Howard himself winces at these lights even though these cameras aren't even pointed at him. A mind largely running on caffeine has trouble with all these big flashy lights.
The two photographers are having themselves a field day. They excitedly capture the moment of the feathers on film, although one of them gets wise to the words she says when she speaks up.
"Ahh, don't worry ma'am, just... just let us get a few more--"
'Now,' she says.
"C'mon, we got enough," The more alert photographer starts dragging the other one away.
"What?! We might not get to see her up this close again, let go, let go--"
"That's really her, right?" Asks Howard's co-worker. "Current leader of the Neo League?"
"Uhhh... last I heard, uh... yeah, yeah, she is." Howard thinks about how he's been running into people he's been looking for a lot lately, like, there's some kind of bizarre magnetism going on. (If only this extended to things like 'the remote' or 'the dental floss.')
"You aren't going to challenge her here, are you?" The co-worker asks. "I mean... y'know, if you're going to find some other excuse to--"
"Maybe." The man with the worst possible cover-up for his early onset male pattern baldness says with a hint of uncertainty. She's small, sure, but even though the photographer guys were obnoxious... she doesn't really seem all that inviting. Then again, so many fighters these days are like that.
Taking a couple steps forward with a loud pop in his knee - man, his own joints are kind of tired after a long day of that meeting prior to that interview - he comes before the young girl.
<< "Good evening, Kurosaki-san." >> Mr. Rust puts on his best Japanese. He's fluent, although the way he speaks carries on the sort of formality that suggests he hasn't had to use it much conversationally. It's missing a few of the subtle nuances a native speaker might have. << "My name is Rust Howard. I am a competitor in the Neo League." >>
Miu seems to relax when the photographers move away. She, really doesn't like all this visibility. Truth be told, this was part of the reason she hasn't returned to Seijyun. She's certain that there will be people, girls who she has never spoken to before, who will be trying to be her 'friend' after her successes. It, annoys her. She is not her fighting talent. She is Miu Kurosaki. That is all.
She doesn't seem quite so tired now, though. She'd touched on her power, even if she hadn't done so entirely deliberately. The fatigue has been pushed backwards, and, for the moment, she feels ... good. She's certain it won't last. Every time she called on her strength, it allowed her to fight, allowed her to recover, for a time. Then, she suffered for it. It was interesting. Normally, the fatigue of fighting is far too little to be worse than, say, the bruises and beating. But pushing herself so hard so fast, and relying on her power to keep herself functioning, allowed her to experience, in detail, the effects of calling on her soul so often. Fascinating.
This does mean, though, that the look she gives Rust is not so, immediately, exhausted. Instead, she nods her head. Rust's japanese is poor, but she appreciates the effort. However, her brow quirks up at the mention of ... the League. She could not escape. Maybe, she would never escape. Maybe she would be a prisoner to this competition ... forever!
She exhales, slowly. "Good evening, Mr. Howard." She replies, bowing briefly to the older man. She hasn't yet seen Rust's interview, of course, or she'd probably have recognized him. She's been too busy to keep up with everything else swirling around the league at the moment. She had her own issues to worry about.
"How may I help you?" She asks, doing her best not to leap to any conclusions. It would be too easy to imagine that Rust is going to turn out to be someone like Adon. Try and cripple her before he calls a camera in to capture her failure, or something equally ridiculous. She would not let herself snap at the man. Say what you like about Rust, for all his faults and flaws, he does not /seem/ like a very arrogant or proud man. He certainly doesn't look like he is in any way responsible for the paparazzi.
She does seem pretty alert for a time of night where most children her age would be showing signs of being ready to crash, or... perhaps cram a little before crashing at night. Maybe she's just been flying around so much that her internal clock is all out of friggin' whack. Going to and from the US, the few times he does, is already bad enough.
Kids these days, they're always so full of energy and just don't know when to stop - something Miu has seemingly demonstrated with how much she's been fighting over this very week.
<< "I hope I'm not interrupting anything." >> Granted, he doesn't see a phone out or any laptops or what have you from the girl - he catches the quirked eyebrow. << "Ah! I mean, the Neo League, the one you've been fighting in. I'm sorry if I wasn't clear." >>
He thought he was, but, then again maybe it has a slightly different name among native Japanese speakers? It's the same sort of confusion that has people calling him Mr. Howard - probably because of the infamy attached behind Geese's name.
<< "I was hoping to inquire to interest in having a match with you." >> He continues, his word choice a little roundabout in the interest of being especially polite. There's at least one really old word in there that doesn't see usual conversation in Japanese, and yet, his Japanese teacher from back in the day shoved things like that down her students' throats.
<< "If it isn't any trouble, I mean." >> The teacher continues as he straightens out, and glances off to the side as he eyes the clock. His mouth opens a little with a quirked brow. << "Ah, though it might be late. I don't know if any local League officials are available at this time of evening for an impromptu fight... huh. Can you give me a second to make a phone call?" >>
Miu does have to concentrate to understand Rust. It is like sitting through a language lesson. This is not what one would call conversational Japanese. The girl's eyes do not leave his, though. She saw the challenge coming. She doesn't like it, but, she had said she would not turn down a challenge if it is possible to have one. She has three hours until her plane will be taking off. Why, then, could she turn down this challenge? There is little reason that she can see.
"I see." She says, about as conversational as ever, it seems. The chattiness she'd shown against Moe (comparatively) has dried up absolutely. "If you can arrange the cameras, I will accept your challenge."
And that, is that. There's nothing more that she can really think to say. She turns, then, and walks back to her chair. Dragging her bag out, she wheels it to the clear area in the middle of the airport, and sits herself down on top of it.
It's easy to read passive-aggression into Miu's actions. Her attitude can seem cold, detached and even snooty. But, she's not trying to be deliberately. She just, doesn't believe in wasting words. She'd agreed to the fight. It would, if nothing else, help distract her. Maybe she'd get lucky, Rust would render her unconscious, and she'd wake up back in Japan. That would be nice.
<< "All right. Thank you. Now let's dial them up." >> Mr. Rust gets out his cellphone - it's a little too small for his hands, but sadly, they don't make them in a size that'd fit them any more - and pokes away at numbers delicately with his left index finger. It's probably humorous to watch.
"Did she say yes?" Asks the co-worker in English.
"Uhh... yeah," Howard goes back to his native English, "if... if I can get someone to come, I mean... it's rainin' like crazy out there."
"It's Seattle!" The co-worker throws his hands up. "Why wouldn't it be? Didn't you used to work through storms and high winds too?"
"Well... yeah, but-- one sec." He holds the phone up to his ear. "Hello? Yeah, this is, this is Howard Rust, that-- yeah. No, I'm not here to withdr-- anyway, I know it's, it's late... late shift. Yeah, I know what it's like to have to work those hours... all right, listen, Ms. Kurosaki and I're-- yeah. So, uh, so will we be able to get any-- yeah? Wow, all the way out there?"
The older man's expression dims a little as he looks at the clock, then towards the list of departure times... hm. He rolls the shoulder holding his duffelbag a bit to relieve some tension, and the cracking that comes off of there actually wakes up someone sitting down nearby.
"Thank you, uh, keep us informed." He closes up the cellphone.
"So they're going to set up?" The co-worker asks.
"Ahh... it'll be some time, lemme go tell, tell her there."
Trekking on over to where Miu is sitting, he bows his head down.
<< "I've been told the only available crew is still filming something a ways from here, so, it will be some time. I'm sorry about that." >> He speaks to Miu in Japanese, clearing his throat once... man, he could go for another coffee.
Miu is content to, zone out for a little while. Perched on top of her suitcase, she probably looks like a bizarre artistic installation. She's just, staring into the middle distance. When people realize that nobody is going to immediately start throwing punches, the usual to and fro of the airport restores itself. A constant flow, in which Miu sits, like an island. It is almost poetic.
Her eyes refocus when Rust comes back over, and the girl looks up at the elder man.
"You may speak English if it is easier, I can understand it." She says, cutting the poor man some slack, despite not speaking it herself. She would stubbornly stick to Japanese if she could, because, well. Imagine the scandal through Seijyun High if she not only stayed away for a week killing her way through the Neo League, she was also quoted talking in English! She'd never escape the gossip.
She takes her phone from her pocket (a slick black number with a little fuzzy bat dangling from it) and flips it open. Checking the time. "I am afraid I only have three hours, though. If, they do not get here in two and a half... we are probably going to have to wait for another time. I am sorry, but I must make haste to Germany."
Not that she was particularly looking forward to Germany. She understood that it was a very loud place, full of loud people and meat. But, it wasn't like she was going to be there for terribly long. Perhaps she should try and smuggle some sushi along with her into the country, just to make sure there was something she could eat comfortably...
"Ah... are, are you sure? I mean, my line of work, I gotta be able to, to speak locally to people there too." It shows that Southtown really, really spoils those who are native English speakers - the way he picked words and such prior did suggest being a bit out of practice. That said, he probably would come off as perfectly coherent to the elder population there.
"It's... it's all right," the man nods at the mention of the time limitation. "You're headed off to Germany, huh? My plane's going back to, to Southtown... being a high school teacher, I don't... ah, I don't really get to travel around freely." There is a certain amount of envy in his tone right there. He's not young any more. He can fight fine, sure, he's still got plenty of strength and endurance to spare. But, that's just a fact of life - he's got a job, he's got commitments, and there's a whole lot of difficult balancing factors in play in ensuring he's able to express his wants - nay, his utmost desires - for fighting superstardom.
It's an uphill battle even with instruction from the Kyokugen dojo itself. Kicking away dudes, sure. Kicking away paperwork and responsibilities and annoying co-workers tends to... not go over too well.
"Actually... ah, come to think of it, you've been, you've been all over the world lately, haven't you? I mean... England, China, India, all in a week? If I, uh, if I remember correctly." The man decides to place his duffelbag down to have a seat. His knees make some particularly obnoxious creaking noises.
Miu nods, in confirmation. Was it England? She couldn't remember. She'd been all over the place. She thought of them by the fights, not the places. It was hard to think of what she'd been doing outside of the fights. Mostly because it had been travel. This hasn't been like the King of Fighters, where you traveled to the country, had your fight, but also had some time in which to relax and enjoy your surroundings before moving on. This has been a marathon. A demanding gauntlet which just didn't seem like it wanted to let up at all.
"I, haven't stopped." She says, quietly. "I am going to be completing my match in Germany, and then, I will be moving on again. I do not know where."
For a moment, she hesitates, and then, she turns to face Rust a bit more fully. "Could you do me a favor, Mr. Howard?" She asks, folding her hands into her lap. If they are going to be waiting for this camera to turn up, she may as well take the opportunity to make a request of the elder man. She has no idea if he'd even be capable of fulfilling it, but, it couldn't hurt to ask, could it? No. There are all sorts of things worrying her at the moment. The chance to alleviate at least a small fraction of that stress would be most welcome.
"You haven't?" Why does he even need to ask that?! Of course he knows she's been all over the place, he's been watching a whole lot of Neo League left and right prior to making the decision to rejoin the cast of combatants after a fair bit of soul searching and training after that fateful invasion.
He thinks about what time it must be in her internal clock. He's probably got another good two hours of activity in him. She still looks kind of like she's just fresh off of lunch, somehow. He starts trying to count the time zone differences in his head as an idle exercise when Miu asks him a question directly somewhere around the point he's trying to carry a two in a figure he already has gotten wrong.
"A favor? Ah... sure." The man leans back a little in his makeshift bag. Nothing in there's fragile, at least. "What can I do?"
Somewhere, deep, deep down, he hopes she's not going to ask him to repair a bench. There is no bench in sight, let alone one he could imagine her caring about the continued functionality of, but he is asked this so often back in Southtown that it's become a fact of life he has grown to dread.
Miu's hands grip together in her lap. "There is a shrine, on the outskirts of Southtown. I don't know if you know about it..."
God knows why Rust /should/. It was dilapidated, in a state of disrepair even before she and Chris had met there, and, though she'd tried to make sure it wasn't in a bad state, she was now ... worried. "You see, I have heard that Chris has been making trouble in Seijyun high..." She's trying not to let it show, but, she is tired, and now they've been talking long enough for the energy boost she'd got preparing to kill journalists to fade off.
"He would like to hurt me a great deal. I think it is just lucky that I have avoided him and his, friends, so far." She shivers slightly. The entirety of CYS, they, disturbed her deeply. Chris was the worst, of course, but he was also the only one who had fought her face to face.
"If you could, send me a photograph of the shrine? Just, to make sure he hasn't done any more damage to it. It is in poor condition anyway, but, if he has, destroyed it..."
The statement hangs in the air. What would she do? When they had met, she could not lay a hand on Chris. She feels like she has advanced a great deal since then, but had she advanced enough? She couldn't be sure... if he's not going to leave her alone, she would have to do something.
She isn't asking Rust to fix the shrine, even if it is broken; that would be a rather strange thing to ask a high school teacher. But, if the shrine has been damaged, then, there might just be a broken bench there. Waiting. Laughing.
Southtown, being a part of Japan, surely has a number of interesting buildings of cultural and religious importance - almost definitely more than one shrine lying about.
"I think, ah, I think I follow, I been to a few," including one he fell into when trying to rescue his cellphone from the nest of some particularly strong, determined bird that liked it. His side starts to hurt thinking about it.
"Chris, uh... the, the famous musician?" He was pretty sure he ran into another famous musician recently, but no, he said his name was 'Santa' instead. The man scratches the side of his head idly and nods along. He didn't see the tabloid thing about him and the rich heiress, he was too busy watching Neo League footage.
His face grows a bit more tense at mention about wanting to 'hurt her a great deal.' Bullying? He's not sure how someone who has proven to be so very powerful would be worried about a mere school bully, but if she's that worried about it... though it does seem like an odd difference in sense of scale.
"If he's vandalized it, then...?" The teacher circles his left hand about. "I mean... I can definitely get a picture, sure, next time I'm, I'm up that way."
Though she hasn't asked him specifically to fix it, it is the sort of thing that falls well under his expertise and kind of comes natural to him to think of doing that sort of thing. "I mean... if it's damaged, I could, I could try and fix it when I got time... can't make guarantees, I'll be honest, since I got... I got King of Fighters comin' up. But, I can get a photo no problem."
He thinks about the picture of her tone of voice. That little shivering. The incomplete sentence. His face grows a bit sour. "I hope I'm not, ah, I'm not being out of line here asking this, but, are you okay?"
Miu's lips draw into a very thin line. For a few moments, she is silent. Is she okay? Things have been, strange lately. She's been storming through the Neo League like a girl possessed, and she should be happy in her success, but, she's not... found satisfaction. She's found more questions. Alma may have sparked her desire to find her limits, but the quest to do so hasn't actually helped her find those limits. It has helped her gain experience, but all that experience did, was highlight the areas about which she knows nothing.
"I'm alright." She says, eventually, because it is not her way to put her problems on others. They are her problems, and she will solve them, given time. It was, good, in a way, that she was stressed. Because now she knew more about what she does not know, that ignorance can be confronted. She was edging, slowly, towards the point where she may actually be able to help her brother. It will happen. It must.
"If you could, I would appreciate it. But, part of the charm is that it is, old." There really isn't any comparison to be drawn here between the shrine and Rust. Not at all. She does exhale, slowly, and she stands. Stretching lightly as she does so.
"Chris, of CYS, yes. He is famous." She confirms, just so that Rust may know for sure who it is she is talking about. "Be careful of him, Mr. Howard. There is more to him than meets the eye."
And she means it. Chris is, in her mind, the ultimate challenge. Despite her success, she has still been running away from him, convinced that she cannot face him alone. He is evil. Pure, and simple. When the time came, she is sure that they will face each other again... but not today, and not tomorrow, either.
She says she hasn't been stopping, she's going to have a long flight to Germany... and frankly, he kind of wonders about her schoolwork. Where's her parents? He'd have imagined by now if she had some with her they'd have objected to being approached by this guy, or... having them run off the four corners of the world fighting everyone non-stop. She's pretty young to be off on her own. The silence says a fair bit in itself.
She insists she's okay, nonetheless. He's not entirely sure he buys this as she goes on to the subject at hand about the shrine. Fixing things really isn't much of a problem for him, but, there is the mention about it being old... yeah, he imagines him restoring bits and pieces of it, if he were able, would take a bit away from the historical value, one might imagine.
When she stands up, he follows suit, although his back chooses a great time to complain. He winces once as he rubs his side, thinking maybe if he was going to get a Neo League match he really... should've stretched some more.
And also got out of these clothes. These are not clothes to fight in.
"Is there?" He's not sure what to make of a girl who has shown to be one of the greater fighters of today showing such utmost fear of a young boy - it's kind of hard to follow. "Ahh... well, I'll, I'll keep it in mind."
When the pain in his back passes, he bends down to pick back up his duffel bag... there pops his knee again! It's disconcerting for people who don't know him well, sometimes it sounds like he might be fracturing things just by flexing his joints. "Anyway... I don't mean to, mean to change the subject but... you said you haven't been, haven't been stopping, right? Just... back to back, all these fights, no time to rest?"
Miu turns to Rust, and, her eyebrow quirks up for a moment. It soon passes, though, and she nods her head. "Yes, that's right." She says, "Although, I have taken eight hours to sleep, and time to have three meals every twenty four hours." Because the importance of sleep and proper nutrition are not to be underestimated. The problem is, eight hours sleep and three square meals a day are nowhere near the amount of time one should have to rest and recuperate after being pushed to the limit of their abilities. Certainly not after having to do so five times in five days.
There's no more words from her, though, as she turns her attention to making her body limber up. She felt bad, and she wanted to ease some of that out of her. The subject of conversation has also made her a bit depressed, and she doesn't want to keep it up. Hopefully, the cameras would be here soon, and the fight would come. She would fight, again. With luck, she would win, and she would consider the fight whilst she waited for her fight. If she lost, then she would not be in any condition to think about anything else until the flight, anyway, so, one way or another, she would stop worrying about things she could do nothing about.
'Yes, that's right,' she says, and he's ready to say his part on that when she talks about having had eight hours to sleep, to make sure she's eating good meals... that's good, that's arguably even better than what he's got going, most nights before work he tends to get about seven or a little less.
He surveys how she's prepping herself to fight. He hasn't gotten word back about any cameras arriving yet - he's not sure if they're finished filming, or will be here soon, or what. He surveys Miu for a bit before pulling out his cellphone. He winces at the thought that after he lost his previous cellphone, he lost his easy speed dial to the league and has to key it in manually again.
He looks up before he presses down the first key, and shakes his head.
"I've... I've been there when I was younger." He starts. "Used to work... used to work longer hours than I should've. Back then, ah, back then I needed all the extra pay I could get, but... but that did some bad favors to my health long-term."
"I'm, I'm not going to lie. I'd been, I'd been hoping to get a match with you, but... if it's got to wait for after King of Fighters, it's, it's got to." He does sound a bit disappointed at this thought, but he tries to keep a stiff upper lip about the whole picture. "It's... it's good to work hard, want to succeed, but, you gotta know when to rest. 'cause if ya don't, your body's just... just gonna quit you, and believe me, you might be fine now while you're young but it just, it just catches up to you."
He starts dialing the number. Or rather, re-dialing it, because his finger manages to push two keys at once. He holds back a curse word but Miu might be able to hear the hiss of the 'sh' sound before he catches himself.
"I don't have time to stop."
The words come sharply. Perhaps, too sharply. The girl turns on Rust as though she is the very picture of wrath personified. It really isn't fair on him, but, the girl's anger is a palpable force, at the suggestion that she was pushing herself to succeed. It, isn't about her success! It isn't about her, and she doesn't *care* if her body is going to quit on her. If she survived to be Rust's age, and not a day longer, after she had done everything she needed to do, that would be more than she had any reasonable right to expect.
Miu is not known for her verbose speech, but she does elaborate. "There is someone relying on me. Someone important. If I do not master this power, if I do not become everything that I can be, he will die."
There's, the hint of tears in the girl's eyes now. She wishes there weren't. Her mask is usually so thick, her composure carefully controlled in every situation. But, although there is no logic behind it, she feels betrayed. Rust had seemed so nice, and now, just a few words, and, she felt awful. How dare he make her feel this way? It's illogical, it's terrible to blame the older man for trying to give her some helpful advice, but, since when have teenage girls been in control of their emotions?
"That. Will not happen. I will not let him die. If that means sacrificing everything I am today, so that he will see tomorrow, then I will do it, gladly. Do you understand me?"
Miu's japanese is fast, harsh, and stinging. If Rust has difficulty with the language, it might even just sound, like angry hissed babbling. But it is clear that he has upset the girl, and that stoic mask, has slipped just a few inches...
Rust hits multiple buttons at once on the cellphone /again/ when she sharply mentions about not having time to stop, and - almost in stark contrast to the complete lack of humorousness in her mood - the cellphone comically starts to slip out of his hand when there's this sudden heavy feeling in the air. It's kind of hard to place.
"Someone... relying?" For money, or... this power, what? What?! He will die, who will die? Chris, or what? He's not even sure where she's going, and he holds up a hand as if to start asking her what's going on - but then, tears. The declaration of something not happening, not letting him die. He visibly flinches with her raw emotion, almost as though she were actually striking at him. What just got /into/ her, he wonders.
"Uh," Japanese is a language typically spoken fairly fast, he can generally understand spoken Japanese without too much trouble. That she's turned up the speed even more, and is all of a sudden talking about things he has absolutely no idea what's up, he sure looks incredibly lost.
"You... you lost me at... who're you talking about?"
Miu takes a deep breath, trying to slow down, it, isn't easy for him to keep up, she can see that. Even if she's still seething.
"Who it is, is unimportant." She says, hotly. She doesn't want to go into great detail about all of this in public, after all. One never knows who is listening, and if something happened to her brother because of her fame, because someone wanted to get at her...
"The point is. I am not going to stop. I am not pushing myself for money, or anything like that. I do not care about success. I do not care that I have won many matches, or that I may win the league. I do not care about any prizes Mr. Masters may offer. I do not care."
Again, it's an impressive amount for her to say at a single time, and a few people who had been lingering to watch Miu look absolutely stunned. Normally, she speaks in one or two words, or maybe a sentence, at a time. Actually saying a great deal, is rather uncharacteristic of her.
Clearly, Rust has managed to touch a nerve, here. Although, it would be rather surprising if he could fully understand why from her explanation. Perhaps part of the reason she doesn't talk much is that she's not very good at it.
The man's already taken a step back. One of his knees starts to ache just being in proximity of Miu's rage, as though it knows what's going on even when the rest of him isn't really cognizant of any such facts.
Nonetheless, with words alone Miu has the larger, seemingly stronger man exactly on the defensive, where 'who' is unimportant. He thinks, maybe she's trying to get money for an operat--
She's not pushign herself for money or anything like that, what? Now he's completely and utterly lost about what she's going on about, if she's not after any sort of material gain for the sake of... whomever she's talking about. It's all entirely beyond him even when she takes the effort to slow down to try and make him understand.
Too many pieces of the puzzle remain missing to him - if fewer in number than the amount of lost hair strands. (Zing!) Sweat visibly runs down the side of his head, although the suit he's wearing is kind of hot. The pounding rain outside seems just more ominous in her angered company.
"I, uh... I'm... I'm sorry," he bows his head, clearing his throat as he turns on the Japanese voice again, << "I'm sorry, Kurosaki-san, but I can't fully fathom what you are pontificating about." >> The tone of his voice is just as much nervous as it is apologetic, using incredibly roundabout and needlessly polite words.
That just makes things worse! Now, Miu feels like she's being patronized too, treated like a child. Which, even though she is a child, no teenager likes. The world must feel sorry for Rust, and perhaps even Miu would regret the way she treats the man later, but, right now, she's just, venting. In a strange way, it feels good. Miu does keep a lot bottled up inside. Now Rust has the unfortunate honor of being the one who she lets it out on.
"It is not necessary that you understand." She hisses, the girl pulling herself up to her full, less than impressive height. She doesn't want pity. She doesn't want other people sticking their noses in her business. She could deal with her problems, certainly. But she did not like the implication that what she was doing was any less necessary. It is vital. For her own, completely unfathomable to outside eyes, reasons.
"If you wish to fight me, then fight me. If you do not wish to fight me, then do not waste my time. I am ready to accept any challenge. If I was not, I would not accept them."
It's not a day in the life of Howard Rust if, somewhere along the line, he's not in the company of some particularly angry young girl who nonetheless takes out some of their frustrations on him, verbally or otherwise.
Usually otherwise.
It's not fun.
Miu may be especially short, but the sheer clarity in which she projects her disdain, displeasure, and... perhaps some other negative emotions that start with 'dis,' this man's almost as good as completely shoved over through sheer confusion in just trying to put together what the hell she's talking about - someone's sick, she's fighting for their health, okay, but... it's not money she's after, what? He just has no idea.
She lays down her ultimatum in significantly clearer words. If he wishes to fight her, then fight her, she claims. If he doesn't wish to fight her, then...
"What the hell's going on here?" Rust's co-worker walks up, at which point he's restrained back by an outstretched arm.
<< "I have absolutely no idea what prompted any of this," >> Howard shakes his head in Japanese. Well, he's speaking in Japanese, to be more specific, there's probably nothing in the shaking of head that makes it any more or less Japanese than his usual American self, << "but I would like to postpone for a time where you aren't journeying all across the globe non-stop." >>
He bows his head again. << "I am very sorry I have brought you this inconvenience." >> He says this very hastily, as though thinking maybe it is a good idea to just wait things out in the coffee shop - if it's still going to be open in the near future. He's still going to have to call the Neo League guys.
They're almost definitely going to fine him for mobilizing a crew for a fight and then not show.
Miu's fury is turned, briefly, on Rust's co-worker. She hardly cares a jot for what he thinks, but it is probably better for his health, at this moment, that Rust's arm restrained him. It would be unlikely to be good for his health if he tried to provoke something from her in this moment. Miu has rarely felt such, intense frustration. Compounded by the fact that she /can't/ explain herself more clearly, and the fact that she is, well, tired. Exhausted, actually.
"Alright."
Just one word, and a visible effort is made to regain her composure. The girl's hand snares the handle of her suitcase, and she walks away. She, doesn't know exactly where she's going. Somewhere else. Another part of the airport where she could sit down and try to calm down, perhaps even get that interrupted sleep, if she's not hounded by another member of the press. But right now, she wants to be moving again, and, she definitely doesn't want to be near Rust.
Stupid adults, being all reasonable one moment, and then failing to understand the inner workings of your complex and bizarre mind the next. It just isn't /fair/.
Log created on 11:51:32 01/14/2011 by Miu, and last modified on 16:23:45 01/14/2011.