Pop Team Epic: Revengeance

The first thing she perceives as her consciousness surfaces from the darkness is the unmistakable smell of cigar smoke tickling her nose. The familiar woody and pungent smell of tobacco rouses her mind in an instant. A smell that, lately, had the ability to make her feel more at home than any other. The distant comforts of her adolescence, her parents and her average school life and going to bed every night without needing a gun under her pillow, all those faraway day dreams seemed like the delusional prayers of a crook in too deep.

Behind the darkness of her closed eyes, her head feels heavy, her eyelids just as weighty. She halfway expects that when she opens her drowsy eyes, she'll open them to the sight of cold metal bars, cold concrete walls, and an even colder look in the prisoners' eyes, the guards' eyes, in her own eyes reflected in the same steel table they eat mush at three times a day. Every day. Day in. Day out.

But then amidst the ashen stench of cigar...

There is the smell of fresh, open air. The smell of freedom itself.

A gentle breeze caresses her face and rustles her hair as if Mother Nature herself were reassuring her that those days were over. She attempts to open her sleepy eyes before tightly shutting them again, the light wind of the outside leaves a dull sting behind her eyelids. She scrubs her face with her hands with a grunt before trying again.

As she blinks slowly and the world before her blearily comes into focus, all she can see at first is blue. A dark blue sky, spotty stars shining here and there. Judging from the color and the stark crisp chill of the air, it was very early dawn. She cranes her neck up from the smooth, expensive leather headrest in the convertible and looks out the windshield. Yellow on the horizon from the soon to rise sun and...

Pipimi casually leaning on the hood, a cigar in hand, looking without a care in the world.The creamy white of her elegant suit a stark contrast against the dark red of the convertible in the early morning light.

Popuko smiles in affection and awe at the sight of her as the memories of yesterday flood back to the forefront of her mind. Popuko lets out an amused exhale through her nose.

After all the shit that's happened... After all the shit they've been through in the past 24 hours... there Pipimi stood, here, pulled over on the side of the highway. They must be a hell of a sight. Yet, like always, she was calm and cool as ever, as if she were just savoring the cool morning, as if she hadn't just betrayed an entire crime syndicate for Popuko's sake.

Pipimi turns her head slightly at the noise but does not look behind her. She merely lets out a quiet snicker in acknowledgement before taking another long, and somewhat smug, drag of her cigar.

Popuko vaults over the closed door of the convertible. Her smile never leaves her face as she makes her way to the front of the vehicle and leans against it, mirroring her partner in crime. Popuko's gaze switches between Pipimi's face and the glorious sunset the mob boss (or rather ex-mob boss) refuses to take her eyes off of. The ever present smirk on Pipimi's face seems to be ever-so-slightly bigger today, almost a smile even, triumphant no less.

Popuko shakes her head in amused bewilderment as she stares at the girl who had to be the gutsiest bitch the Yakuza had ever known. Popuko is utterly mystified as her smile grows into a toothy grin.

"You crazy motherfucker..." Popuko whispers in admiration and total amazement.

Pipimi's mouth turns up imperceptibly, her shoulders bounce gently as she chuckles lightly. Popuko laughs with her, feeling light-headed (in a good way for once), feeling like the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders. As she watches the hardened criminal Pipimi herself laughing so freely and playfully, it makes her feel so warm all over and so, so very victorious.