Dragon of Fire and the Ice Prince

krystalmaze

Wild Child

Kimiko sits in a chair mindlessly playing with the alcohol in front of her. She smiles sweetly at every guy who gets up the nerve to ask her to the dance floor before turning them down flat.

As one of them hovers over her she makes eye contact with the girl seated next to her, rolling her eyes as the boy gets flustered and angry about being so deliberately ignored.

She pushes past him, leather and metal thigh-highs making delicate clinking noises against the glass floors. The lights swivel, coating the club in a myriad of colors. She descends the stairs her hips swaying slightly to the rhythm of the music. She's on the ground floor when the boy from before comes over to her, face still red and angrily demanding she dance with him.

She smiles and leans against the wall, crossing one arm against her waist while the other points to the ceiling. The boy confusedly looks up to where her finger points, looking down a moment later. He steps forward then stops staring intently at her hand, which is now on fire. He stumbles back, his hand outstretched as if to push her back. He falls and crawls away, disappearing behind a curtain of legs.

She all but skips onto the dance floor. The small chains crisscrossing her leather bustier glitter with every move. Her jewelry jingles as she begins to dance. Her hair is a slick fountain trailing behind her and her pants cling to her body as she performs some rather athletic stunts.

Unfortunately just when life at the club is finally heating up, the lights go out, the music stops, and the sounds of sirens break the sudden silence.

Kimiko immediately heads for the bathrooms, not above singeing people who're in her way.

Dull yellow light streams through the tiny window in the bathroom. she flips it open pulling it off its hinges when it only opens half way. It shatters when she drops it onto the floor. By now there's someone shouting through the megaphone and people screaming as the "police" have probably started beating people.

She growls when she sees bars on the other side of the door. Immediately she grabs the bars then braces her feet against the sink. She pushes the bars outwards, they bend then pop out of the brick, she falls on the window seam, her ribs taking the brunt of the hit.

Somewhere behind her there's footsteps but she doesn't stop to look, simply scrambling out of the window and running out into the dark streets of Tokyo.

The sky's edges are tinted with pink by the time she gets to where she lives. The building gleams on the outside, but inside, it's falling apart, the walls are painted lousily, the numbers on many doors are scratched out. The carpets smell of smoke and are so worn down and threadbare you can see the cement underneath them. There's always people coming and going at odd hours and occasionally the hot water goes out.

She stands before her apartment pulling her keys out of a special compartment in her boots. Before she can even insert the first one, the door opens and someone is dragging her in. Her foster mother is putting on the show. Which can only mean there's an inspector here. She groans as her foster mother blubbers all over her, hugging her too tightly, while discretely and viscously digging her manicured nails into Kimiko's body.

Her sister Keiko is sitting on a white overstuffed couch, holding an equally pristine white cat. There's two reasons their apartment is better put together than their neighbor's. One is that their foster mother works as a designer and she brings work home with her. Secondly she puts on a good show for their usual inspector, Daisuke Sato. She goes on and on about how she'd made a home out of nothing, how she sacrificed so much for both her and her sister. Then she'd be an incorrigible flirt, hanging onto him, giggling and plying him with her finest saké. Eventually her pretty form and face combined with alcohol would work its magic. Mr. Inspector would be cherry red in the face with a fools grin.

That charade guaranteed their foster mother would be given extra money courtesy of Mr. Inspector. Kimiko always wondered where he got it from.

But if he had actually done his job instead of sitting and being coddled, he'd have found their fridge empty except for bottles of wine, beer cans and the occasional empty takeout box. Their cupboards filled with home remodeling supplies, no medicine or first aid anywhere, just makeup, jewelry and clothes, 99 percent of it belonging to their foster mother. Anything that was theirs, not their foster mother's was usually stolen.

Case in point the cat food and litter box, bought and stolen respectively, by Kimiko herself, after Kaiko had found that darling stray sniffing around a dumpster.

Despite all her faults, being with foster mother was better than being in a group home.

Kimiko had a job, so did Keiko, they'd both lied about their age but it meant they had money. Their foster mother had allowed it as long as part of their wages went to her.

Keiko's cat was allowed in the home because they'd blackmailed their foster mother into allowing them to keep it.

And they both had the freedom to come and go as they wished, including to school.

Unfortunately the woman sitting on the couch, clipboard in hand, hair in a bun, and stern expression on her face was not Mr. Inspector.

"Kimiko Yoshimura I presume?"

"Yes." Kimiko responds cautiously.

The woman looks her up and down, her eyes lingering on the stylish cuts in her top that exposed plenty of skin. "Where were you at five in the morning?"

"I was at the pharmacy, dropping off a prescription for my dear mother."

"Uh-huh. Ms. Yoshimura, I'm Ms. Yamamoto, and unfortunately for you I know you're lying. This morning at around three you were spotted on camera at club Unit. You were seen consuming alcohol, wearing inappropriate garments for a girl your age and out past the curfew allowed for minors. This incident combined with the fact that you have consistently missed school for the past year means the state does not find your current legal guardian to be a fit guardian. You are to be removed from her care as is your sister. Both of you will be moved to a group home until there is another suitable foster family available; you are adopted; or you are no longer of age to be cared for by the government. I will be overseeing your removal. Please prepare your things."

Kimiko holds her sister close stroking her hair, her heart heavy with every little sniff Keiko gave out. An empty cat carrier sits at their feet. Each of them had scratches and minor bruises; Kimiko's hair was lopped off on one side. To say their foster mother had taken the news badly was putting it mildly.

Ms. Yamamoto had managed to subdue their foster mother, calmly telling them to pack their things from her spot on the floor. She hadn't allowed them to take Keiko's cat Yuki.

Vengeful, Kimiko had made sure to stuff the most expensive of her foster mother's jewelry in a secret compartment of her trunk.

Eventually they arrived at a large grey building that looked more like an office space than a residential area.

"Wait here." Ms Yamamoto pointed towards the straight backed chairs in front of a desk.

Kimiko dozes on the uncomfortable chairs while Keiko sits and stares at her feet. Several hours later, Ms. Yamamoto had returned, a black folder in her arms and a strange little man following after her.

She blinks her mind placing the short happy faced man. It was Toshiro Tohomiko. Game tycoon, billionaire, inventor and if her ears weren't deceiving her, the man who wanted to become their adoptive father. Somewhere in the back of her mind she's suspicious of their motives, but the more practical part desperately wants to avoid being sent to a group home.

Papers are pressed into their hands and Kimiko eagerly signs them. Keiko is more wary.

"Why are you doing this?"

Mr. Tohomiko looks uncomfortable for a second then responds, tiredly, "We've been looking for the Dragon of Fire for almost 16 years."

Somewhere in East China, in a grandiose house Kimiko examines her new haircut; shaggy, purple tipped, and ending at her shoulders. Her makeup is experimental and asymmetrical, making her look fierce. Next to her Keiko is much happier, cooing over her fluffy cat. Thankfully their foster mother had not harmed Yuki opting to dump her outside along with her litter box and food.

Kimiko had used her newfound position of 'Dragon of Fire' in order to negotiate their 'adoption.' Leaving plenty of loopholes that worked in their favor. One of which was marching Ms. Yamamoto and Mr. Tohomiko right back to their old house in order to obtain her sister's cat. They'd found the poor kitten pawing at the door, mewing pitifully. Which had earned the two adults a severe reprimand from Kimiko.

Secondly, Kimiko had demanded there be no fanfare around the adoption. She'd wanted them to remain as anonymous as was possible, keeping it between the least amount of people as they could. As far as she had seen, they'd kept their word. While there was a blurb on every newspaper about the Tohomiko adoption, their names, ages, gender, or even pictures, weren't disclosed.

The only non negotiable was where they would go to school. Mr. Tohomiko had insisted on shipping them off to China, to study at the Xiaolin Academy.

Despite Kimiko's grumbling, she'd dutifully studied the language, and by dutifully she meant she allowed Keiko to read her the most useful words and phrases. Keiko of course was stressing too much, overachiever that she was; she kept trying to learn the entire language in just a few weeks.

One perk Kimiko had negotiated in order to sweeten the sour 'living-in-China' bit was a generous expense account. Which Kimiko was currently thinking about spending in its entirety to replace all of the school uniforms at her new high school. Or maybe to just bribe someone into letting her get rid of uniforms all together.

The skirt was so short, a well placed wind would expose her panties to the world. Her shoes felt as if they would slip off if she so much as speed walked and her thigh high socks continued to slide down her legs unless she used a garter or glue on them. The blouse and jacket clearly designed by male perverts hoping to see plenty of cleavage. She wondered if they purposefully designed them one size to small, so that the girls would have to squeeze themselves in and not breathe for fear of bursting out of their clothes. The colors are just garish, they clash with her makeup.

Spur of the moment Kimiko yanks an emergency outfit off the hanger and dives into the bathroom.

Keiko looks up from where she's playing with Yuki. She already has her book bag ready and instead of thigh highs she'd put on thick white leggings. "You know it's really not that bad Kimi. I could lend you some leggings if you'd like."

Kimiko comes out, uniform neatly folded and ready to be sent back to the hell it came from. She's wearing green black striped pants, and a loose hoodie with some animal skull designs embedded on it.

Keiko grimaces, "You're going to be expelled if you wear that to school. Not to mention, green and purple?"

Kimiko shrugs as she picks out a purple and green book bag. "It worked for the Joker." She stuffs the atrocious uniform into her bag. "Besides I'm just going to exchange it."

"You should drive while I look up the address, then I'll take it over to clothes place and come right back."

"Uh isn't Ms. Yamamoto supposed to be taking us?" Keiko asks dubiously.

"Technically yes, but that's why we're climbing out the window."

Kimiko looks around, noticing the buildings have gotten smaller and the air has gotten foggier. The place that makes their uniforms was located within the poorer, more industrialized part of town. She'd never actually learned the name of it, preferring to just follow the direction on her phone.

She steps out making sure to lock the car. She rushes into the small building where the package said it came from. Once inside she was surprised to find it looked like a tailor's shop, albeit with less variety and a little more cramped. One of the five people currently at a sewing machine stands up. She has a polite but detached look on her face. Kimiko's sure she can't be much older than she is.

The girl says something in Chinese, Kimiko blinks, it certainly wasn't something she'd learned.

Kimiko hurriedly shows the girl her packaged uniform, pointing at the Xiaolin Academy symbol and nodding, then opening it and shaking her head. The girl gives her the once over before comprehension spreads over her face. She scurries over to her counter, pulling out jackets and slacks, in red, white, or black. She then begins to pull out vests and dress shirts, all available in the three aforementioned colors. The vests have dragons subtly embroidered on them. Also available with these uniforms are silver or gold cufflinks, each sporting the Xiaolin Academy symbol. Kimiko buys one of each.

Kimiko preformed a miracle of human aerobics by simultaneously; color coding; driving without causing an accident; and stripping off her old clothes and putting on a new uniform. Red jacket and slacks, combined with a white shirt and a black vest. She'd chosen the gold cufflinks to complete the effect. Though she was mournful her book bag and hair didn't match her clothes.

She managed to pull into the school just before the gates close behind her although she did hear a distinctive screeching.

Keiko is waiting for her by the front doors.

Kimiko sprints out of the parked car. Her sister does not look amused by the new uniform. She opens her mouth but is interrupted by a man shouting, "Tohomiko, you're late!" He struts over to them, pen writing furiously over a clipboard. His bald head glistens. His face seems to be stuck permanently on scowl. The suit he's wearing looks like a bigger, orange version of her own.

Kimiko does her best guilty puppy look. It would work if he was looking at her but his eyes are on his clipboard. "Name!"

"Keiko Tohomiko."

"Not you. Your brother." He jabs his pen in her direction.

"Kiiko Tohomiko."

Keiko elbows her, a 'what the hell are you doing' expression on her face.
The man frowns at both of them. He lowers his clipboard. Surprisingly he begins speaking in heavily accented Japanese "My name is Master M. Guan. It is a disappointment that the Tohomiko heirs show such little regard to their education. For being late today you will stay half an hour after school as punishment. Now both of you get to class. I'm sure you both have your schedules right?"

Kimiko nods, glancing helplessly over at Keiko. Her sister is nodding profusely, face red, and on the verge of tears. Kimiko immediately feels guilt gnawing at her belly.

"Then GO!" Master M. Guan shouts.

Both of them jump and scurry off into the building, Kimiko making sure to wrap an arm around her sister and throw a glare back at ig-Guan-a.

When they're both out of sight Kimiko hugs her sister tightly. "I'm sorry Kei, I didn't mean to get you in trouble too." Her sister's tears subside and Kimiko makes sure to give her a Kleenex to wipe away the smeared makeup and snot.

Keiko just sighs, looking very weary, before handing over Kimiko's schedule. "I knew you didn't have one." Kimiko looks sheepish.

"Here take my eyeliner, you need it."

"Thanks. Get to class." Keiko begins to walk off, then stops and turns to look at Kimiko, "Should I even ask about Kiiko?"

Kimiko rubs the back of her neck and shrugs, "he thought I was your brother."

Keiko exhales, "This won't end well."

Kimiko runs over to Keiko giving her one quick hug before running off to her own class. "I'll make it up to you!" She shouts over her shoulder.

Looking at her schedule then at the numbers and foreign letters on the walls Kimiko wonders how she was ever going to make it to class. Too busy stewing over her schedule and the fact that she should have studied the Chinese language a bit more Kimiko suddenly finds herself on the floor. "Watch where you're going!" she and the person she bumped into, yell simultaneously, albeit in two different languages, she in Japanese, the other in Chinese.

Kimiko looks up, suddenly star struck by the boy she bumped into. He's kinda cute, with his large brilliant green eyes, tanned skin and stylishly messy brown hair. His black jacket is open, he's wearing no vest and a shirt un-tucked from his pants. Glancing at his arms Kimiko notices there's no cuff links or buttons, letting the material split and reveal his forearms.

Kimiko picks herself off the floor and begins collecting all her scattered items.

He picks up one of her lip-liners, dangling it between two fingers, and sneering at her. He's already losing his charm. "What's this for?" Kimiko snatches it back, annoyed, and tries to stand up. He grabs her face, forcing her to look at him."You know already got enough shit on you face to pass for a girl."

Now seething Kimiko knocks his hand away and shoves him. He stumbles, his back hitting the wall with a satisfying thud. Kimiko doesn't wait for him to find his bearings, she takes off her bag, throws it aside and lays a good punch on his face. A second later she knees him in the stomach. He sinks down to the floor clutching his stomach with one hand, the other hits her right in the knee. She hops on one leg. He grabs the other one and yanks, effectively knocking her over.

(Un)fortunately a teacher hears the commotion. She notices them both on the floor clutching body parts and orders on of her students to call Master M. Guan. When he arrives he immediately picks them up by the scruff of their clothes standing them upright and ordering them to march. Kimiko remembers to grab her bag off the floor.

Upon reaching an office the Iguana sits them down. "Mr. Tohomiko, Mr. Pedrosa you will now both stay after school for 90 minutes every day this week. You will also have to write an essay on proper school conduct and a better way to resolve your differences, due at the end of the week." He'd said it twice, once in Japanese and once in Chinese.

Kimiko snickered a bit when she'd heard the Iguana him give Pedrosa an extra essay on proper school attire.

"I will now personally escort you to your classes."

After dropping off Pedrosa where he was supposed to be. The Iguana takes her aside, he speaks in the clearest Japanese she's heard him speak so far. "Your behavior today is disappointing Dragon of Fire. We expected so much more from someone who wields such power. If you do not progress beyond petty fighting and your own self indulgence you will end up like the Heylin, squandering their gifts and causing only misery to those around them."

Kimiko's eyes narrow. "I notice you didn't give Pedrosa the same speech."

He suddenly looks a lot less grumpy and a lot more tired. "I have in the past. I fear he doesn't listen."

They make it to her class in silence.

Somewhere in between the six classes, lunch, and her afternoon punishment Kimiko had managed to scribble out a rough draft for her essay. She was glad she had when she noticed the assignments her teachers had given her, each would take an hour apiece to finish.

The parts of her body Pedrosa had hit, still ached. In addition to those tender areas, her arms hurt from her afternoon detention, being forced to mop up the floors in the cafeteria and hallways. She wasn't sure how big Xiaolin Academy was, but it felt as if she'd barely mopped up anything in her 90 minutes of torture. A semi bright spot was when she'd had a chance for revenge against Pedrosa. He'd had his back turned to her and was unknowing of her presence. The idea to smash her dirty mop at the back of his head had been so tempting. Sadly she'd restrained herself, just barely.

Zombie like she heads for the bus stop, additional punishment for starting a fight, stealing the car, and being late, was that she had to take the bus today.

It starts to rain the second she steps a foot out the door.

Feeling like the world's chew toy, she brings her book bag up to shield her head, running towards the somewhat sheltered bus stop.

She crashes against something rather like a brick wall. Half expecting Pedrosa again, from her spot on the floor she squints up and sees a man that is the anti-Pedrosa. He's pale, neatly put together, and he hadn't so much as moved an inch when she barreled into him. His uniform is black, pressed, and full of clean lines; nothing like the hot mess that was Pedrosa. His long hair is pulled back into a slick ponytail. His eyes are narrow and golden in color, gleaming with a supernatural aura.

He steps over her prone form, with an expression that clearly states she's just some rubbish he doesn't wanna step in.

"Hey Mr. Ice Prince do you have a popsicle up your butt, or, am I just special enough to receive that look."

The man stops on the way to his car, he turns his cool gaze at her. She sees him scan her, a slight twitch in his mouth before he turns around and continues walking.

Not sure what compelled her to do it, Kimiko picks up a glob of mud and chucks it at his retreating back. She's running off in the other direction when she hears it splat.

Had she looked back she would have seen him easily dodge it.