Love And The Russian Winter, Act 1

"Stop, kidnapper!"

In one of Higan Academy's many hallways, an unreasonable allegation cut through the student's chatter. The accuser, Madoka Onguuchi, crossed her arms in a resolute "X". Her sunny demeanor was nowhere to be seen, replaced by a firm pout. Any other day, the small fries surrounding her would have rolled their eyes or smiled at her antics before walking past. Today, however, a wolf was loose in their sheepfold.

"Oi, Madoka, cut that out."

Opposite to the gyaru, stood Momofuku. A rare sight in school premises, her reasons were clear by the absence of her iconic black and red uniform. Instead, she wore a black tank top that showed off the lean muscle of her arms and stomach, alongside simple leggings of the same color. She was a woman on a mission, that being the basketball court. Madoka should be following her to provide cheerleading, but—

"Not until you let Takaishi-kun go!"

Clamped in the sukeban's grip, a miserable looking Takaishi Kuroda squirmed, trying to shrink his massive frame under the nosy students' gazes.

"I'm not kidnapping him, you drama queen. The basketball club's power forward got injured, and I'm recruiting him as a sub."

In truth, the mission had been in her mind since the first days of school, when Momofuku's instincts had been drawn to Takaishi. While the boy was a quiet, twitchy mess, content to spend his days gently patting soil and caring for petunias, his uniform couldn't hide the sheer amount of solid muscle in his tall frame. She knew there was some potential in there, and after that whole mess with the Flooding Zone, she only got further confirmation.

"I mean, look at him," Momofuku continued, gesturing at Takaishi with her free hand. "Tall, strong, good wingspan, great stamina. He doesn't even need a tryout if you ask me."

Madoka's eyes narrowed. "No one should be forced into a club, or a sport, or anything, just because they might have a talent for it. That's not fair, Momo!"

For a moment, Momofuku's usual scowl faltered. A memory, unwelcome and inconvenient, flashed in her mind. A younger Madoka, being lectured by her grandparents about the importance of the Onguuchi dojo. Right. Of course she'd take exception to this situation.

Still!

"It's not like that at all!" she insisted, annoyance flaring in her chest. "If he gives it a shot and decides he hates it, that's fair. But this guy was avoiding it based on vibes. He's no better than a baby who says veggies are yucky without ever tasting them!"

"..."

Takaishi, whose body was strong enough to weather a [Nightmare Eater]'s assault, doubled over at being compared to a picky toddler. His gaze somehow fixed harder on the floor, a faint flush coloring his cheeks.

"..."

Her superb analogy had also stunned Madoka into silence. Her mouth opened, then closed, unable to pierce such ironclad reasoning.

"He'll be fine," the victorious delinquent declared, bulldozing past her friend in the absence of any counterarguments. "One practice is all I'm asking. If he hates it, I'll send him back to the Gardening Club, safe and sound."

Soon, their steps squeaked into the court's polished wood. Momofuku marched Takaishi to the center of the huddle, where the male half of Higan's basketball club practiced free throws.

"Listen up!" she barked, her voice cutting through the dribble of balls. The team froze, turning to face the sukeban with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity, and she shoved the tall boy forward.

"This is Takaishi. He's your new power forward. Now teach him the rules."

The club members, a lanky and energetic bunch, blinked in surprise. Their captain, a boy named Keiya, stepped forward with a hesitant smile, the need for players overriding his confusion.

"Really? That's awesome! Thanks, Momo!" he shook the hesitant boy's hand. "And welcome, Takaishi-kun!"

The rest of the team didn't protest.

"Don't worry man, we'll start you off easy."

"What size jersey do you wear?"

Their immediate acceptance was a balm on the shy boy's nerves, his shoulders relaxing as they offered him a ball and showed him a basic stance. For the rest of the afternoon, Momofuku joined the Basketball Club in coaching the newbie. She drilled Takaishi on footwork, showed him how to position himself for a rebound, and barked corrections whenever he hesitated.

"Use your weight! He can't fucking guard you!"

She was the first to snap when he hesitated on the paint, but she was also the first to grunt in approval when he finally managed to sink a hook shot past his defender. He was clumsy, but his overwhelming natural athleticism made up for most of it, exactly as she expected.

At one point, a girl with a prim posture and a Census Club armband entered the gym. She spoke quietly with Captain Keiya, whose smile faltered before he followed her towards the equipment room at the far end of the court. Momofuku's eyes tracked them for a second, but she dismissed it as boring logistics.

Then, her focus was back on getting Takaishi to stop bricking his layups.

Later, they sat on a bench, both slick with sweat and breathing heavily. Though somehow, she was panting harder than him! Genetics were so unfair sometimes.

"So?" Momofuku prompted after taking a long swig from her water bottle. "Decision time. You in or out?"

Takaishi stared at his own hands, his shoulders slumping. "It was... kind of fun," he mumbled, the admission surprising him, but only vindicating her. "I... I wouldn't mind subbing for Iriai-san until he recovers. But I don’t know if I can be there for actual matches. Doing this with a crowd..." he shook his head, banishing the thought.

Momofuku waved a dismissive hand, scattering droplets of water. "You're overthinking it. Once you're out there, the crowd disappears. It's just you, the ball, and anyone trying to stop you. Win or lose. Simple."

"..."

She waited for a rebuttal, but none came. With that matter settled, she beckoned him up from the bench.

"C'mon, let's tell Keiya you're officially not a quitter."

They found the team still practicing their drills, but their captain was absent.

"O-Oh, he's still in the locker room," one of the players offered.

"We'll let him know Takaishi-kun's joining, though!" another said.

Seriously? He was still alone in the locker room with that census club girl? Could it be they were...

Before Momofuku could finish her secret dating theory, a flicker of crimson zoomed past her and into the sidelines. [Simply Red] knelt before the locker room's door, ear pressed against metal.

Takaishi looked between her and the oni, eyes widened slightly.

Get back here, Momofuku snapped mentally, cheeks flushed. Damn her [Idolon] for making her look like some sort of gossip!

"But I can't!"

Keiya's muffled voice cut through the door, strained and upset. The oni shook her head at Momofuku, blond mane whipping about. She pointed urgently at the door and made a series of gestures, miming two people talking with her hands before one squeezed the other harshly.

Sukeban instincts, honed by hundreds of battles, flared to life. Momofuku’s stepped closer to her [Idolon], the team's sudden pleas fading behind her.

"... understand the position this puts us in," the girl's voice rose as she approached. "Considering you needed a full equipment replacement and locker repairs last month, asking for new uniforms now is a bit..."

"Momo-san, wait—!" one of the players tried reaching for her shoulder, only to wilt under her glare.

"But... if a few of your members are available for our after class 'fund raisers', perhaps we can find an agreement."

"I-I can't keep lending out the team...! We need this time to practice for our next match..."

"Time is money, Keiya-san. There are countless clubs in this school counting on our Census Club. If you make it easy on us, we make it easy for everyone. But if you don't... then the requests start piling up, and we might not reach yours in time. You know how it is—"

BANG

"Is that how it is?" Momofuku put her foot down, her voice deceptively calm. "Higan needs to drag students off the court to run 'fund raisers' so their clubs don't die?" She took a step towards the stunned Census Club girl, the door still swinging behind her. "News to me. But maybe I'm out of touch. Maybe my attendance record is catching up to me. Whaddya think, Keiya?"

Her crimson eyes locked onto the pale-faced basketball captain.

"Is it really that bad?"

Or is she lying? went unsaid. Are you being squeezed?

The tiny emphases that girl had placed on certain words, hell, her overall slimy tone, all of it was rubbing the sukeban the wrong way. Extorsion? On a club she'd personally intervened to help? As if.

Before Keiya could answer, the Census Club girl finally found her voice, winding herself up with a haughty turn of her nose.

"T-This is a private conversation! You have no business here, you... you delinquent! You're not even in the club! You're just mooching off the team's facilities, and as if that wasn't enough, now you're dragging Takaishi-kun to do the same."

Momofuku stepped closer. But the girl, too emboldened by the perceived power of her position, mistook the silence for weakness and kept running her mouth.

"If you care so much about the club winning, why don't you join the girl's team?"

Step.

"Heh... then again, I've seen the girl's team. Maybe you're right to not have any confidence in your stickbug bo..."

She realized her mistake a second too late. Momofuku stood nose-to-nose with her, a barely restrained killing intent swallowing everything around them, leaving no air for her to breathe.

"Can you repeat that last part?" A hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of the girl's uniform collar and yanking her up onto her toes. "I'm not sure I heard you right."

"Y-Y-Your..." The girl stuttered pathetically, her desperate gaze flying all over the room, trying to avoid those smoldering crimson eyes. She looked to Keiya, to Takaishi, to the basketball team, all nervously watching. In that split second, the ugly truth revealed itself.

It was already too late.

She was well within the sukeban's range.

Even if they came to her rescue, she would not leave this room unscathed.

"Oi. Are you ignoring me?"

To recover the girl's attention, Momofuku raised her other hand, curled into a fist. Her knuckles were brought forward, tapping the girl's chin as lightly as possible.

"Guh..."

Her eyes rolled back into her head, and she went limp in the sukeban's grip.

"Eh?"

Momofuku mumbled, confused. Offended, even. She hadn't done anything yet!

Was the girl so convinced she'd get punched that her brain couldn't help but short-circuit at the slightest sign of impact?

Was this the kind of weakling trying to run an extortion racket in her school? Disgusting.

Still holding the girl, she turned her glare back to Keiya. "Alright. Start talking."

He hesitated, looking between his team and the furious sukeban. "M-Momo-san, I don't—"

"Don't even think about clamming up now," she growled. "You're already in this. Whaddya think Sleeping Beauty over here's gonna do when she wakes up? She's going straight to her boss and telling her about what happened here, and that prissy Russian brat will know the leak came from your club. Now, you can either make my life easier before I go after her, or you can sit here and sink on your own shit."

The fight drained out of Keiya, shoulders slumping, words coming out in a defeated rush. He explained how the Census Club had been squeezing them for months, along with the Soccer Club, the Volleyball Club, and who knows how many else. He tried to refuse them, once. The next day, their locker room was destroyed, their personal belongings thrashed, their uniforms and balls slashed. Then some of his first-years started reporting huge, menacing men loitering near their homes after practice. With regionals approaching, he couldn't afford his whole team scared to go home after training, terrified of putting anything in their lockers. He had no choice but to fall in line, and request replacement equipment from the very people who ruined their gear.

"Please," the captain begged. "Don't make it worse, Momo. I-I'll take the heat for the leak, I can handle that. But I can't have them thinking I was the one who sent you if you go in there swinging. Please... let our sacrifice mean something."

Her red eyes narrowed. "Your sacrifice means nothing but cowardice, and I'm not letting you infect me with it."

All those afternoons she spent here, training with them, sweating with them, and she had to find this out by snooping. Instead of trusting her enough to ask for help, they'd rather roll over and let some... some foreign Lolita and her lackeys walk all over them!

"You should all be ashamed," she spat. "I've lost respect for all of you."

None of them could meet her eyes, parting before her as she marched out of the room, dragging the unconscious Census Club member with one hand, and a shell-shocked Takaishi with the other.

"Forget about joining those sad sacks!" she barked at him. "Until I sort this out, you're just prime pickings for that girl."

"But..." he wilted under her glare for a moment, then found the guts to continue. "... shouldn't we leave this to the student council?"

She let go of him, but did not break her stride. "Tch. You can tell them if you want. But by the time they're ready to do something, I'll already have this solved."

The students on her way scattered, all of them staring at the girl she dragged by the collar, but none brave or stupid enough to intervene.

Internally, she stewed on her anger, Takaishi’s timid suggestion echoing in her mind.

She had always suspected that Alyona girl would try something. A shady foreigner gathering other transfers for her little clique, and she just happened to run for the club that managed finances? It was a disaster waiting to happen. But she hadn't cared enough. Higan wasn't her turf, and it was up to the council to police this sort of thing, not her or the Fujiwara Senki.

So why was she marching towards the Census Club ready to declare war?

Unbidden, a series of memories bombarded her brain. The squeak of sneakers on the court. The solid thump of a passed ball hitting her palms. The basketball club members, both the boys and girls' teams, happily playing with her, never once treating her like Momofuu-ki, the scary gang leader, but Momo, the girl who was good at sports. They'd let her play without demanding she join, without asking for favors or protection.

... As if she was doing it for those dumbasses! She totally meant it when she said she lost respect for them. This was purely practical!

"Momo-chan!"

A voice called her name from down the hall, but she ignored it.

It was only a matter of time before the Census Club's grubby hands reached Dawn's Computer Science Club, and that would make it a problem on her turf.

"Momo-chan!"

She was only... taking the initiative. Yeah. That was it.

"Momo-chan!"

A small figure planted itself on her righteous path, arms spread wide as if to stop a charging bull. It was Yaya, her big eyes wide with a mixture of fear and determination.

"What is it, pipsqueak?" she grumbled.

Yaya pointed behind her. "You're going the wrong way, Momo-chan! The nurse's office is back down the hall."

"... eh?"

Why the hell would she be going to the nurse's...

It took another second until it dawned on her. Yaya, in her boundless innocence, had assumed Momofuku was performing some sort of charitable act,
taking an unconscious student to get medical help. The idea that Momofuku herself was the cause for this had not even occurred to her.

"I'm going exactly where I want..." she grumbled, losing most of the heat in her voice. "Don't worry about—"

"Eek!"

With a terrified shriek, the girl Momofuku had been holding scrambled out of her loosened grip, flinging herself behind Yaya.

"She's crazy, Mihama-san!" she wailed, clutching at the smaller girl's shoulders. "She punched me out for no reason! You have to call the disciplinary committee right now!"

"I didn't move a single hair on that empty head, you filthy liar," the sukeban shot back, temper flaring anew. "Even though I should have, for that stickbug comment."

"See! She admits she wants to hurt me! And now she's going after Alyona-sama! You have to stop her!"

Yaya's head whipped around to look at Momofuku.

"Momo-chan... is that true? Are you going to hurt Alyona?"

"She and her Census Club are extorting half the school. I'm not gonna hurt her," Probably. "But I'm going to deal with her."

"No way!" Yaya shook her head vehemently. "Alyona would never do that! She's always so kind and proper. There must be a misunderstanding somewhere."

Momofuku groaned, stopping herself from dragging a hand over her face. Yet another reason she hadn't bothered with talking to the council before going her own way. Not only were they blinded by Alyona's prim and proper princess act, most of them probably considered her a friend. They'd waste time 'talking it out' or 'investigating', giving that snake all the time in the world to cover her tracks. She, however, had no such compunctions. The only one who could stop a rule breaker who played the system, was a rule breaker who didn't care about the system.

"Go ask the basketball club if it's a misunderstanding," she grumbled, her patience running thin. "But I'm not stopping."

She stepped right, attempting to circumvent the girl, but Yaya shuffled sideways, her arms still spread, blocking the way.

Frowning, Momofuku went left, but the council secretary mirrored the movement with surprising speed.

Another quick step right was met in much the same way.

Step, Step.

Step, Step.

Annoyed, Momofuku feinted left, but this time, the Census Club girl barred her.

"...!"

She yelped and jumped back into a defensive stance after a single searing stare, and then Yaya was there to cover her.

Absolutely ridiculous. With an exasperated grunt, the sukeban leaned down, hooked her hands under Yaya's arms, and lifted her up like a stray kitten. She deposited the sputtering girl out of her path, then broke into a full sprint down the hallway.

The clock was ticking now, after all. That Census Club girl was awake and would undoubtedly be scrambling to warn her accomplices.

Rapidly maneuvering around the student body, Momofuku made a sharp turn left, skidding to a halt right before the club's door.

But she was too late.

Leaning against the door frame, looking utterly unimpressed, Madoka. And standing resolutely beside her, somehow, Yaya.

Momofuku stared, dumbfounded. "How the hell did you two get here before me?"

Madoka winked, a playful smirk on her lips. "Gyaru magic, of course! Also, there was a shortcut through the physics lab."

Damn her truant ways! She lost the race by not knowing the school layout.

The gyaru magician's expression sobered into a familiar chiding look. "But for real, Momo, you couldn't have talked to me before you started dragging girls through the halls like a cavewoman?"

This time, Momofuku allowed herself to palm her face.

Here was yet another reason she did not go to the council. She had been the victim of Madoka's charm for almost a decade now. Her childhood friend would have looked her with those lilac puppy-dog eyes and talked her into a slow joint operation with the council that would have let Alyona slip right through the cracks.

Before either Madoka or Yaya could launch their attacks, Momofuku let out a sharp sigh. "Fine," she folded under zero pressure. "You can be there and mediate while I lay it onto her."

Madoka's face lit up, and Yaya beamed. The two went on to perform a complicated, secret handshake that made Momofuku's left eye twitch. The sukeban walked past them and threw the Census Club's doors open, marching into the den of corruption with her two unwanted chaperones in tow.

The late afternoon sun streamed through the large window, catching on the dust motes dancing above plush, imported rugs. Though it was the same size as every other club room, the Census Club's headquarters were a world apart from the sterile, standard issue interior provided by Higan. Ornate, dark wood shelves were crammed not only with files, but also manga volumes, and figures from anime Momofuku didn't recognize. In the center of the room lay a polished rectangular table. Above it, lace doilies sat under steaming teacups, giving the room a faint smell of black tea.

At the head of the table sat Alyona Rodionova, her blonde twin-tails perfectly framing her features. Beside her was a girl with stark white hair and an eyepatch. They had been leaning close, engrossed in a quiet conversation, but the door crashing open snapped their attention to the visitors.

Alyona's piercing blue eyes met Momofuku's smoldering red orbs before her gaze swept over the group. A small, utterly fake smile graced her lips.

"Madoka-san, Yaya-chan. A pleasure, as always. And you must be..."

"Momofuku Chikata."

"I am Alyona Rodionova." A dainty hand gestured to the right. "This is my associate, Renka Cho. Now, to what do we owe this energetic visit?"

Before either of her tag-alongs could sugar coat it, Momofuku stepped forward.

"I'm here for the Basketball Club. The Volleyball Club. The Soccer Club. And every other club you've been extorting."

She planted her hands on the table, making the teacups rattle.

"Give up and come clean. Or I will bring you down."

Alyona blinked, her expression one of mild confusion. "That is a very serious accusation, Chikata-san. From my records, all the sports clubs have been thriving since I took over the Census Club. Their budgets are healthier than ever."

"I'm so sure," the sukeban scoffed. "But I caught one of your minions pressuring the Basketball Club's captain in the lockers. They're only thriving as long as they keep lending their members to run errands for you."

"So your evidence..." It was Renka who spoke next, her voice flat. "Is not a formal complaint, nor a testimony, but a conversation you overheard?"

Her club president turned to Madoka and Yaya. "Is the student council endorsing this hearsay?"

Yaya shook her head vigorously, her pigtails flying. "No, no! We're here to clear up any misunderstandings!"

Madoka, however, folded her arms. "Well, we don't have any evidence... but I trust Momo. She has no reason to lie about this sort of thing."

"And what would you have me do, Madoka-san? Cease an activity I am not engaged in? Relinquish my presidency because your friend," she stressed the word, "Is not a liar? That would hardly be fair."

"Oh, relax," Momofuku grunted, having no interest in her games. She stalked over to the nearest shelf. "We'll be the ones doing everything in here."

For the first time, Alyona's composure cracked, a small frown gracing her face as the sukeban pulled out a ledger and flipped it open. "Those are classified financial records," she stated frostily. "She is accessing them without permission. That is a clear violation of school regulations."

Yaya, ever the stickler for the rules, nodded immediately. "She's right, Momo-chan! If you keep being so bullheaded, I'll have to call Nejima-kun!"

Madoka smoothly stepped between them. "As a member of the student council, I give her permission to review them." Then, she offered the foreign student a bashful smile. "Alyona-chan, if everything is clean as you said, then there's nothing to fear, ne? We'll make sure everything gets back on the shelves exactly as it was, too."

The blond's gaze flickered between Madoka's thumbs up and Momofuku's finger running down a column of numbers. "Surely this can be done at a later date? It is getting late, and I was preparing to depart for the evening."

"Without finishing your biscuits?" the sukeban piped up, not even looking at her, or the biscuits and tea set on her table.

To her credit, Alyona recovered seamlessly. "Organizing today's ledgers was taxing work. This was merely a quick snack to restore my energy, not a lengthy tea party." She let her eyes drift over Momofuku's cheap athletic wear with a hint of disdain. "But I suppose I cannot expect someone of your... background... to grasp such intricacies."

"Oh?" Momofuku finally looked up. "Color me surprised. Thought I'd have to grasp the stick up your ass before you figured that out."

The two glared at each other, sparks flying between them. Madoka quickly placed a hand on Momofuku's arm while Yaya tugged gently on Alyona's sleeve, both pleading for calm without a word. From her seat, Renka watched the entire exchange, her single visible eye crinkling at the corner as she took a sip of her tea.

Under their friends' pleas, the two headstrong girls backed down. Momofuku returned to the ledger, her lips moving silently as she solved the math under her breath, her scowl slowly deepening. Line after line, page after page, every yen was accounted for, every transaction was neatly logged. This particular file, at least, was a complete dud.

Beside her, Madoka seemed to have similarly poor luck. As the minutes ticked by with no incriminating evidence, Alyona relaxed on her seat, delicately nibbling a biscuit.

"Having trouble, Chikata-san?" she asked, sweet with false concern. "Do you perhaps require a calculator? I mean no offense, but I rarely see you in Math class..."

Momofuku's head snapped up, a fresh comeback ready, but Renka silently slid two calculators across the table before the situation could escalate again. Grudgingly, the sukeban took one, and Madoka accepted the other. The process sped up considerably, and soon, Yaya joined them, her small fingers flying over a third calculator as they powered through every ledger from Alyona's entire presidency.

The result was the same. Nothing. No paper trail, no hidden deductions, no damned evidence!

Yaya turned to Momofuku, her expression hopeful. "See? It was a misunderstanding. You should apologize, Momo-chan."

"..."

After a tense moment of silence and some coaxing from Madoka, Momofuku relented.

"... Sorry," she muttered in Alyona's general direction, her gaze fixed on a point somewhere past her shoulder. It was clear to everyone but the endlessly optimistic Yaya that the apology was faker than a three-yen note, but the blond accepted it all the same.

As the group filed out of the Census Club room, Alyona paused beside Momofuku. "Give the Basketball Club my best regards," she murmured, condescending, and yet, undeniably triumphant. Then she swept away, Renka falling into step behind her without a backward glance.

"Have a good evening, everyone!" Yaya said with a bright smile. "I hope we can all meet tomorrow on better terms!" Then, she skipped down the hall, leaving Momofuku and Madoka alone in the quiet corridor.

The sukeban scuffed her shoe against the floor. Failure weighed down her head, impeding her from meeting her friend's eyes. "Sorry," she mumbled again, genuinely now. "For wasting your time. But you have to believe me, what I saw back in the Basketball Club..."

Before she could finish, Madoka enveloped her in a crushing hug, burying her face in Momofuku's shoulder. "It was no trouble at all, silly! What are friends for?"

Then, the gyaru's voice dropped to a whisper directly on her ear. "And for the record... there is definitely something fishy going on. I only had a vague suspicion before, but today just confirmed it for me."

She pulled back, her eyes sparkling with Unshakable Faith in her friend.

"We'll get her next time. I'll get Master Detectives Yae-chan and Kao-kao on the case!"

"Yeah... yeah!" Momofuku repeated, spirits raised at Madoka's boundless confidence. "And I'll get the rest of the gang."

The real records had to be somewhere. Someone like Dawn, with her talent for slipping past any lock and navigating any system, could be the key to unearthing them. Fumiko could whip up a device to record them on their acts. And Itsuki... well, she'd figure something out for him.

With a final high five, the two friends went their separate ways, since Momofuku had to double back to fetch the backpack with her uniform. By the time she shouldered the bag and finally left Higan’s main gates, the sun was dipping below the horizon.

She taken only a few steps onto the sidewalk when a sleek, black, armored sedan glided to a silent halt before her.

The rear passenger window hummed as it rolled down, tinted glass giving way to Alyona Rodionova's composed face.

"Get in," she said, her tone leaving no room for debate. "I will give you a ride."

Momofuku didn't hesitate to ignore every advice her grandma gave her about being approached by black cars. She yanked the heavy door open and climbed inside, sinking into the plush leather seats while Alyona shifted to make space for her.

The driver glanced back via the rearview mirror. "Destination?"

"Fujiwara Ward," the blond provided without consulting her guest. The car pulled away from the curb, its engine a near-silent purr.

Momofuku settled nicely, spreading her arms over the seats. "So. What's this about? Rubbing your victory on my face some more?"

Alyona turned to her fully. "No games. Not here," she began, her voice low and direct. The mask had been dropped. "I thought we ought to have an honest conversation. Woman to woman. Leader to leader. No interruptions."

Momofuku scoffed. "Save your breath. I'm coming after you again, and there's nothing you can say or offer that'll make me back off. And if you think for a second you can intimidate me with this fancy box, I'll make you regret it before we hit the next red light."

Alyona's lips quirked in a faint smile. "I suspected you'd say that."

Then why are you wasting my time? Momofuku almost asked, but decided to let the other girl continue.

"Let me be clear. I do not like you, Chikata-san. You're violent, vulgar, and worst of all, you make Yaya worry with your antics. However, I have heard of your exploits in Fujiwara Ward, and all manner of forbidden zones. You have a strong sense of community, and the strength of character to pull the uncivilized and unruly under your command. For that, I respect you. Had you been born in my motherland, perhaps we could have even been friends."

Momofuku shifted uncomfortably in the plush seat, the sudden praise catching her off guard.

"I am trying to do the same thing you do, but within Higan. I am giving a place to all the students who do not fit in. The foreigners, the outcasts. Did you ever meet Renka-chan before today? She used to look so sad in her first month here. Withdrawn, tormented by her peers by events completely out of her control. That was before I found her, rescued her, gave her friendship and purpose."

She leaned forward slightly, blue eyes shining.

"We should not be fighting, Chikata-san. Our aims are the same, not only as students, but as fellow awakened, too. We should be under the same banner, protecting humanity from the threats of that other world."

She gestured grandly, encompassing the school they'd left behind.

"Just as Higan's administration looks the other way regarding your... extracurricular activities, is it not fair they extend the same courtesy to me? That they might overlook a hypothetical, minor skirting of the rules if it serves a greater, unifying purpose—"

"Enough."

With every self-serving sentence spilling out of Alyona's mouth, a heavy, hot feeling built inside Momofuku's chest. It was utterly alien from the explosive rage she felt in a fight. A deep, seething disgust that finally boiled over.

"What the fuck is the greater, unifying purpose behind shaking down a sports club, huh? Behind thrashing lockers and sending goons to stalk kids? You couldn't make your little club for foreigners without screwing over everyone else?!"

Alyona's eyes hardened. "I could not have gained me or my followers respect without seizing power from those who would oppress us. Or am I to assume you earned your peace by holding bake sales and politely requesting the other gangs to disband?"

This girl...!

"Don't ever compare the two of us again," Momofuku growled, her face now inches from Alyona's. "Ever. I took over my ward because my people were being preyed on by yakuza and serial killers. They needed someone to stand up for them. You?" She let out a derisive snort. "I know your type. You took over because you needed to. Because you can't stand not having everyone under your thumb. The situation in Higan was never bad enough to excuse the kind of shit I have to pull in Fujiwara."

"Your hypocrisy astounds me. Can you not see you're mad at me for protecting those you didn't bother with?"

"You're not a protector. You're just another bully with a fancy excuse."

"And you're a thug with a savior complex," Alyona hissed.

"Control freak."

"Hypocrite."

"Projecting bitch."

"Hmph...!"

"Grr...!"

The two glared into each other's eyes as they traded barbs, their equally rebellious wills battling in the confined space between them. Neither was willing to be the first to back away.

"Fujiwara Ward."

It was the chauffeur's flat baritone that broke their stalemate.

Alyona let out a sharp, irritated huff, leaning back into her seat and fanning her face, cooling down the angry flush in her usually pale skin.

Momofuku didn't wait for her dismissal. She shoved the car door open and climbed out, the familiar—if slightly gritty—air of her neighborhood a welcome relief.

"Thanks for the ride, Rodionova," she said, a sharp grin spreading across her face. "Honestly, I thought we had nothing left to say to each other, but I needed this little chat. Now, I'm more fired up than ever to bring you down."

Alyona's expression was cold as the Russian winter. "You will find nothing," she stated with finality. "All your progress today was born from a stroke of luck. Do not expect another."

The door slammed shut, and the black sedan pulled away, tinted windows hiding its occupant once again. Momofuku stood watching it until it turned a corner and disappeared. She nodded once to herself, and pivoted sharply towards her home, ready for the coming war.