"Whoa. No. I'm not wearing that." The tone of her voice was in a lower register than most women, and resembled that of honey. The woman in which the voice belonged to was tall, and her almond shaped eyes glowed the sharpest baby blue in the entire white-washed room. Her hair was jet black and fell down to her waist in dark waterfalls. The whitewashed room belonged to her twenty one year old adopted sister Mija. She was holding a
hand tailored dress, urging it towards her with that goofy smile she always head.
"Nope. Not a chance." Kitanai, the woman the voice belonged to, of course, shook her head and was clad in a short black laced night gown, identical to the white one her sister had. In looks, they were just that: light and dark. Her blonde hair and brown eyes clashing with Kita's, and yet, they got along so well.
"Papa had it made just for you, Kita-Chan! You have to wear it!" Mija urged, throwing it at her older sister who begrudingly caught it.
"Ah, yes, of course. Old man is always insisting I squeeze myself into breast-popping corsets." She muttered, rolling her eyes as her sister pulled her arm towards the large white vanity with sprinkled painted flowers. Mija had always been so much girlier than her, and yet, she was always so excited to doll up her darkened sister.
"Do I have to, Mija-Chan." She asked quietly as her sister pulled her hair away from her back and brushed it down sweetly, lifting a curler to her hair as she worked on creating a romantic wave to her raven black hair.
"Some people would kill for my beauty touches, Kita-Chan!" She squealed excitedly as she pulled gently on each individual strand.
"Tch, right." Kitanai teased lovingly as her eyes dropped bashfully.
~*~
So, she got her in the dress. She got that romantic curl in her hair. She got the subtle pink blush and lip gloss on her supple lips--and then, like the devious sister she was, sent Kitanai on her way to do the errands as she stuttered out an excuse as to why she couldn't go, and headed in the opposite direction.
So there, walking down the streetfull of little shops, was an uncharacteristically cutesy Ijimeru Kitanai. She stood in the middle of some small bake shop she had discovered, going on an errand for some sweet bread and scones for the tea her father enjoyed serving. Her basket filling with various things she couldn't help but grab as well--like those absolutely "to die for" brownies. And as she checked out, paying the cashier she moved out to where a bashful looking black haired girl with the most adorable hair cut stood. Kita slowing to a stop as she gave her a brief smile and looked at her tray, taking in the array of beautifully decorated pasteries.
"What do you have there?"
Those glowing cyan eyes widened as she stared down at the ground as the girl raised her tray for the all-too familar masculine voice. She named off the types of samples they had, Kitanai slowly raising her head to look at the beautiful young girl,
"What is a mochi, miss?" She asked as her eyes looked oddly bashful away from her, as her mind slipped her for a moment.
Now, to the young girl, perhaps, it seemed normal. But, to anyone who had met Kitanai, they would know that she was bullheaded, headstrong, and confident. She held her head high and spat on those who stepped in front of her. But how on Earth could she do that when she felt like a walking circus? Clown makeup and hair to go along with the whole facade. She was okay with going out and blending in with everyone else that she didn't know--but to run into someone so familiar? Someone who's opinion she...actually cherished?
Oh, how embaressing.