Pilot | Koyuki

BLACK TEARS, BLACK SMILES

Black credit cards and shoes
You can call
all the people you want
But it's you who's being used

When it was her turn to be served, she was glad that she finally—

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Aside from her brow elevating, there was little in terms of reaction from the tawny haired princess. For the most part, she was quite the stoical girl, and at times that even made her come off as a bit of a grouch. Now, she never behaved like one for no reason, even if she wasn't all that talkative either way. This young lady would never really be on the opposite end of her fury, because she seemed like the amiable type; you typically had to at least be to a degree to put up genial pretenses. People like Mei? It was impossible, because she didn't even know how to be cheery in the first place.

Two minutes passed. When the pinkette returned, she had her arms crossed, and she seemed more tired and bored than actually annoyed. Brown eyes fixating onto the girl with curiosity, there were signs of sympathy growing in them once she seen that her company had been plagued with some kind of work hazard related infliction. Admittedly, Mei had never worked before, and she never really knew what it was like to put up with other people for money. When it came to money, she just got it, and she had enough of it to live luxuriously for the rest of her years. Not only this, but it was actually going to be all hers when she inherited it—meaning she didn't have to go to school, but she wanted to, anyway. Her dad always taught her that only a fool thinks he knows everything, and a wise man always seeks to learn more. So, all in all, she kind of pitied the people who were forced to, well, do this.

"It's not a problem," she said, possibly ending the world given the sheer rareness of words like that coming out of her mouth. Ironically enough, what drew a smile to her face—well, maybe more of a smirk, wasn't the prosthetic cheery introduction, but seeing her sink into a demeanor that was hardly different from her own? That just made her day. In fact, it was refreshing.

"In that case, I'd like to have whatever your smallest batch size is for chocolate chip cookies, and gingerbread cookies, too," she said, revealing her sweet tooth that yearned for those delicious things called cookies. She leaned forward a little, just so her whisper would be audible, and all the more discreet to those around them. "And don't worry. I admire your eloquence, I'd be a fool to complain."

Now, as you can imagine she heard Koyuki talk about the idiot on her car, she seen them, and at first, she seemed pretty cool about it. Little did they know, you don't mess with Mei's car. That thing, seconded by her cat, was like her baby. It was a birthday present this year from her distant parents, who she only got to see a few times a year these days. Not only this, but it costs more than everyone gawking at it combined—probably their cars, too. Quite literally, she felt a searing sensation spread through her entire body up to her brain. If one were to touch her at the moment, it might actually feel a lot like pressing their hand against an overburner. She could feel her bicuspids grinding together, and then—just like that, she heard a clattering noise on the ground.

When she looked down, she seen a knife. Had it originated from the girl before her? She gave her look, tilting her head like some kind of livid, confused kitten. In acknowledgment, she nodded, picked it up from the floor, and slowly exited the shop. "I'll be right back to pick those up, thanks," she said, somehow managing to retain a calm in her voice, which was entirely different from her rigid, mechanical movements.

Most of the guys there turned to look at her, and before they knew it, she was slashing at them so swiftly the motions appeared more like lightning than anything humane. Nothing seemed to happen—did they even get hit? Well, she was surely close enough to them, but it looked like she missed. They found out the hard way that it was deliberate, seeing as their clothing suddenly slipped off of them, and pooled onto the ground. Screaming, they covered up their privates, and bolted in the other direction. That just left the shocked individual still positioned on her car, as though the fear of God had turned him into a statue. He willed himself to flee, turning his back to her and trying to climb over the other side of the car and into safety. Sadly, this left his legs exposed, and a horizontal slash that looked like it was executed by a trained Samurai was executed. This time it made contact, and she seemed to aim very precisely for his left Achilles tendon. Expertly, she assured that it was shallow enough to not prevent him from walking, but just enough to force him to do what he did next—fell onto the ground, flopped around like a fish, and then hopped off deliriously.

"Punks..." she mumbled, concealing the knife under her sleeve and pushing the doors open, heading back to her original placement. Whether or not the girl was there still, she didn't know. She assumed she was baking the goodies.

BLACK TEARS, BLACK SMILES

Black credit cards and shoes
You can call
all the people you want
But it's you who's being used

“I’ll bet,” she ambiguously replied to the other girl’s first revelation, regarding the hooligans’ tendency to flirt with her. She was too socially awkward and dense to derive any other meaning from that statement, other than stressing that their “habit” was embedded into their boyish, predictable natures. “On the bright side, maybe they won’t come back anymore; or maybe they’ll run when they see my car. Guess I’d be doing a favour if I came around more,” she pondered, momentarily directing her gaze upwards. God, what a day it had been, riddled with first world problems here and there. If there were any dents in her car, Lord have mercy on his soul, because she would sue, and she would sue him for so much money he’d have to sell his very soul to pay it off.

There was nothing better than chocolate chip cookies bought from an actual pastry shop. It wasn’t any of that crap you seen in the stores–no, this was actually made by a place that specialized in it. She wasn’t optimistic enough to believe that they took great pride in every cookie or cake they made, but she was sure the quality was much more preferable to the stuff probably spat out from some noisy machine. She didn’t smile, but you could tell she brightened when the tin was held out to her. “I have no problem with the wait. I’ll simply run an errand and come back,” she assured, fixating her eyes onto the pinkette.

“Oh – actually, I happened to find one outside. Perhaps one of those guys got their hands on it? Here you are,” playing along with the cover up; she discreetly slipped it from under her sleeve, onto the counter. Since it was in her sleeve and she had time to wipe it off while it was in there, it was entirely liberated of any of the dude’s blood, which was now on the inside of her sleeve. Great. Reaching out, she accepted the metal tin. “Thank you very mu-“

Blink blink.

Inadvertently touching the pink haired girl’s hand in the process of accepting the cookies, what with her naturally high body temperature, the feeling of the other girl’s abnormally low body temperature was even more distinctive to her than it was to the average person. At first she looked at her with a furrowed brow, and then a sort of “knowing” look grew in her eyes. She wasn’t stupid enough to believe that, in that touch, her own similar, yet opposite, condition was revealed. Since she calmed down, her skin wasn’t like an oven burner anymore, but it was more like warm cement on a nice summer day. Yet, it had the consistency of satin, much alike her pink haired counterpart’s.

“…you know what we both should have opted to invest in?” she started in a whisper, leaning closer. “…gloves.”

BLACK TEARS, BLACK SMILES

Black credit cards and shoes
You can call
all the people you want
But it's you who's being used

When she heard and to a degree seen ice form, she wasn't alarmed, nor was she revolted. Instead, for some reason she couldn't explain, she really wanted to lick this pink haired ice cube of a girl. It likely was one of the most random and inexplicable things that have ever popped into her mind, and she didn't mean for it to be taken like some kind of innuendo or lust—she just thought it'd be fun, or entertaining, or amusing—or maybe just flat out necessary. But for now, she encumbered her uncanny desires, and actually listened to what her frigid counterpart had to say.

As she was told to wait a moment, she nodded. Since the touch there seemed to be a mutual understanding between them, in such communication hardly required words. They both had questions that either stemmed from curiosity about the other person's condition, and or bolstering their knowledge of their own condition, by checking out people who had something similar. Or maybe, on a less pragmatic note, she was actually a little glad that she'd end up getting to know somebody that also was in the same queer predicament as her. And, as odd revelations were being made, maybe she could get away with letting out her feline features, so they weren't so damn uncomfortable. Currently, that wasn't a good idea.

Smokers—she would never understand them. At this point, she had made her way to her car and was standing next to the driver seat's door, with a hand resting lightly on the car's hood. The hobby disgusted her, and she didn't get why anyone would want to fill their lungs to the brim with toxic smoke. Everyone knew what that crap did to them, but they did it anyway. Either way, it wasn't her problem and she didn't particularly care—it was just moderately amusing. Especially, like now, when she got to see one of those little cancer sticks ruined by the smoker himself. Mei didn't know the matter could have elicited such an aggressive response from the other girl, and honestly, she approved. She liked it. It reminded her of herself, and ironically, maybe that touch of narcissism was contributing to the approval she was giving her.

Once she was done, the expression she made at the coworker was something like a sneer. A beautiful smile nonetheless, but the emotions behind it were very much mocking. Before she could even see a response, she opened up the door and got in next to her future guest. "I have a kitchen that'll easily suffice, even though it's modest in comparison to my kitchen at my parent's place. I'm... grateful, by the way," she admitted, reddening a little at the cheeks and looking down towards her feet. As this was a sports car, and manual was ideal, that's exactly how she learned how to drive. Trailing her hand onto the gear stick contraption, she started up the vehicle. "Isayama Mei. It was in poor tastes for me to have refrained from introducing myself earlier," with that said, she raised her head, and smirked a little.

"To make up for it, I'll take you on a ride."

Being the fiery person that she was, she had no qualms with being a little reckless here and there. Like now, when she truly demonstrated some of the amazing features of the car, and backed up really fast, before zooming off in the direction of the Campus. They were going to her dorm—she hoped the other girl didn't mind. And with this hunk of metal flying across the roads like a jet plane, they would be there in a short amount of time. All she had to do was make sure she was under the limit, and speed only when she was completely positive she didn't smell bacon.

BLACK TEARS, BLACK SMILES

Black credit cards and shoes
You can call
all the people you want
But it's you who's being used

Within time the smoldering cat and the pink popsicle arrived at their destination. Once she got to her dorm and opened up the door she immediately acknowledged that her roommate hadn't been present for now. Maybe she was in class, maybe she had something to do—but the crunch of it was she wasn't there at the moment, which left the two things to confide in another in peace. Now, driving at one hundred miles per hour had more of a point than just getting a rush. You see, she wanted to see just how stoic this girl was, and if she could trust her with a secret without her freaking out, screaming, and running out of the dorm. Seeing as she could probably literally draw her expression back then—which was no more than a horizontal line under two dots, it didn't seem like she was the type to go blurting things out. Even if she did, well, Mei would be spiteful and tell people about how her sweat turns into icicles and what have you, so she was sure whatever was said or seen in this flat would stay in it.

During the time Koyuki was asserting the cruciality of a half a stick butter in the gingerbread recipe, Mei was kicking off her footwear, and decided to do something that she hadn't ever done before. She tossed off her hat (it practically went flying at Koyuki, who knew if it hit her or not), and lifted her blouse slightly so she could slip her fairly extensive tail from underneath. The fur, naturally, was the same color as her tawny hair. And God, did liberating those feline characteristics ever feel good. Her ears twitched, and her tail elevated in what was commonly referred to as a 'friendly' gesture for a cat, but it hooked at the tip, which signified that she was unsure and otherwise curious about Koyuki. And it reflected into the rest of her actions, too, because she seemed to be watching and monitoring her as she fetched that half of a stick of butter for her, and retrieved the proper utensils to bring it to the consistency the pink haired snowcone desired. But, she wouldn't be completely unscathed, either, because Mei succumbed to her cat-like instincts and...

Licked Koyuki right on the cheek.

Because she was basically an icecube, and cats liked pushing those around and licking them.

... She took a few steps back, and went back to preparing the butter, as though nothing happened.

BLACK TEARS, BLACK SMILES

Black credit cards and shoes
You can call
all the people you want
But it's you who's being used

You could imagine the startled look on her face the moment she heard the—

"... I wonder if you'll purr, too."

The blood rushed to her face like police to a crime scene, and for a moment, she had what you could refer to as a tomato face. Imagery of being pet by a timid ice cube was a lot more appealing than you'd think, and for that very reason, it struck her with abashment.

After having gone through with the little stunt concerning her tongue and Koyuki's face, as mentioned, she either seemed to be playing it off as if it never happened out of the need to keep her feelings at bay, or because she somehow didn't even realize she did it. Mechanically she'd continue preparing the butter, before forking it over to Koyuki one way or another, for her to use it in whatever culinary craft she intended.

"Hopefully," she said, proving to be a bit of an odd one, as the tone of her words belied her immense abashment thirty seconds ago. While continuing to watch the pink haired girl make food, she found her eyes straying to nobody other than Tammy—her cat, which currently found interest in, well, Koyuki—much alike her owner.

When Koyuki made her latest comment, she had to invest a couple of moments into thinking of how she'd respond to that. "Great minds think alike, huh Tammy?" she casually remarked to her fellow cat, which, no it couldn't respond—the household wasn't that weird. But, she predominantly said it as a bit of a remark, perhaps a bit of a retort to the purring comment from before. It wasn't how she expected to spend her day, but it was a lot less boring than it would have been. The stoical nature ironically made Koyuki more entertaining than others.

"What's your story?"

BLACK TEARS, BLACK SMILES

Black credit cards and shoes
You can call
all the people you want
But it's you who's being used

Sexual innuendo was dominating the unorthdox episode. Koyuki was turning out to be the exact opposite to what she expected her to be like—and she liked that. That, however, wasn't Mei's predominant train of thought as she helplessly gawked at the aforementioned tracts of land being tepidly hefted. She could have refrained from looking at them if she had just made the comment in passing—but what with her having actually touched them? Not looking in that direction was virtually impossible. She was conflicted. On one end she didn't get the answer she desired, but the answer she got was both humorous and a tad bit appealing—what a fatass lie it'd be if she denied that.

Following the deader than dead silence was some much needed clarification. Just as she thought, Koyuki wasn't serious. Being fairly deadpan herself she had an aptitude for detecting meager implications of humor. She was a smart girl, and she could quickly deduce that freezing those off would be impossible, painful, needless, and a whole lot of other things that weren't cohesive enough to be anything but a joke. But in time the story was explained to her, and throughout it, she did her best to listen intently without having her attention stray towards—lets be frank here, Koyuki's rack. Well played.

As Koyuki continued to vulgarize her actions with a questionably sultry bout concerning her finger and icing, Mei watched and noticed something on Koyuki's face. While it was nothing major, it was still a small amount of icing bordering the pinkette's mouth that needed to be dealt with. What better way to deal with it than to reach out with her hand, collect the bit of icing with a delicate stroke from her thumb, stick that long, hard thing deep into her mouth, and lap up the white stuff clinging stubbornly to it? That is precisely what the brunette did. Trying to knock her guest off of her game, she made sure to establish eye contact the whole time. Popping her thumb out of her mouth, she gave the terminal member sequential cat-like licks, before decidedly responding to the question.

"My old cat died," she started, her tone rightfully gloomy. "He was getting old, but I guess some negligence on my part might have contributed to hastening those final days. Before I knew it, I was cursed with the additions you see right now."