Tattooed - yata x oc -

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Asuka was riding down the streets of the city on her skateboard, dodging citizens and cars as she listened to the music blaring through her headphones. Her trip was aimless, guided by nothing but the flow of traffic and the wind. Her mindless riding was nothing new to the daily pedestrians and shop owners. People waved to the tar-back haired teen, shooting friendly smiles and dodging her path. The contaminated air whipped her hair around, majority being held in place by a backwards snapback. A small smile graced her lips as she hummed along to an aggressive song. She rounded a typically low-traffic corner, smacking head first into another body. Both bodies nocked against each other hard, forcing them backwards and onto their asses.

"Shit!" Two voices mixed loudly, breaking harshly against one another.

Asuka shook her head and groaned, sitting up and letting her eyes focus on the person before her. She recognized his chestnut brown hair and baggy white shirt. Yata Misaki, HOMRA. He blushed profusely as he scrambled up from his collapsed position on the sidewalk. Quickly he diverted his eyes from the fallen girl, panic and embarrassment showing in his face.

"So-sorry. It's its my fau-its my fault, here." He offered her his hand, pulling her up with a surprising amount of strength given his slight build.

Asuka only smiled and pulled her headphones off, patting herself down in a hopefully inconspicuous manner. Good, she hadn't lost anything.

"Thanks, and no worries. I wasn't paying attention anyways." She laughed and watched with amusement as Yata's face seemed to darken two shades. He didn't reply, instead moving to kick his board up to grab it. Asuka moved to do the same, only to stumble at the sudden vibration of her phone. She groaned and caught her balance, once again patting herself down as she tried to remember which pocket she had left her phone in. When she found the pocket she let a triumphant sound escape. Yata only watched with curiosity filled eyes, trying to pass of his watching as looking behind her.

When she got the device free from her pants pocket she swiped the screen to read the message that disrupted her rhythm. Her eyes went wide in panic. Hastily she grabbed her board and pocketed her phone. She pulled a small card from a pocket and shoved it at Yata. With shaking hands and a flushed face the boy took the card hesitantly, finally looking in her general direction.

Asuka smiled brightly, the skin around her eyes crinkling slightly. A strong wind blew down the street, whipping her hair around like smoke in the wind. The heavy fabric of her cargo pants was freshly ripped in the knee from her fall earlier. Her black graphic tee rippled in the wind, distorting the word design on the front. Dark, illegal ink peeked out from the sleeves and collar of her shirt. Yata could see the ink crawling up her neck and down her arms like it was trying to complete itself.

"I gotta blast, hope to get to know you better, Yata Misaki. See you around."

With that the strange girl disappeared down the street, running while packing her board underneath her arm. Her hair whipped behind her, a green-blue tint flashing in the wind that reminded Yata of crow feathers. He had whiplash from her. She came and left like a storm, leaving nothing in her wake but a card and the lingering feeling of interest. There was more to that girl than baggy clothes and an odd disposition of permeance. His head swam with confusion as he finally looked at the card he had been handed.

It was the same size as most business cards, rectangular and made of sturdy cardstock. It had been dyed a damning red reminiscent of fresh blood. In stamped silver letters it read the name of a business he recognized. The Iron Crow was a tattoo parlor within the walls of an old brick building half a block up from the HOMRA bar. He flipped the card over, eyebrows rising in surprise. Stamped in the same silver ink was a name and number that he could only assume were the girls.

Fujino Asuka.

"What the fuck." He muttered to himself, pocketing the strange card. Why would some girl give him her business card? And how did she know his name - his full name nonetheless? And why was she packing a knife...or dagger...what ever it was that she was trying to conceal within the folds of her clearly too big pants. Yata sighed and decided it was probably time he got back to the bar. He couldn't help it as his mind wandered back to the girl as the wind whipped the hair against the nape of his neck.