Ninjas of Love

Cleanup

Blake Belladonna, her black hair falling beautifully and effortlessly past her shoulders to its final resting place- halfway down her back, and closed the white, pine door behind her nigh upon silently, before taking a seat, her legs crossed like some form of fleshy, pale pretzel, next to Emily (who was not looking at her best due to her hair having taken to having the ribbon removed from it about as well as a fish takes to a desert, as well as the strip of vomit that stretched from her bottom lip to her chin, like some kind of horrific beard) and draped her slender left arm over the brunette's shoulders. Emily did not embrace the girl with the emo aesthetic back, but did lean into her, beyond grateful for Blake's caring, non-judgmental contact.

Without uttering a word, the black-haired beauty reached her hand into one of the deep pockets of her jacket and pulled out an off-white handkerchief adorned with embroidery showcasing multiple warriors, who- as far as Emily could tell- looked a little like those "catgirls" Billy kept cuttings of under his bed in Patch. Without uttering a word to the vomit-covered, dishevelled-looking teen, she flushed the toilet with her free hand, before wiping away the foul liquid that soiled Emily's lower face.

"You're beautiful. Please don't do this." Blake assured Emily, a pearlescent tear forming in her gloriously golden eye. Before Emily could reply, the noticeably skittish and nervous girl has leapt to her feet and yelled "PISS OFF!" at something or someone outside. She had heard a noise and had naturally, and quite correctly, assumed it was Billy Dalton and Kerian Furry eavesdropping on her private matters- though they quickly fled when Blake let rip her fearsome cry. "You love Yang, right?" Blake asked, making sure not to gesticulate, so that Emily's pale head could rest comfortably on her bony, slim shoulder. The brunette, whose hair now closely resembled a tumbleweed, nodded silently, feeling too guilty to even cry. "Then please stop. She doesn't want you any different to how you are." Emily interrupted her with a high-pitched and meek "Are you sure?", to which Blake replied with a nod of the head and a hug tighter than any corset Emily had ever tried on, and warmer than the sleeping bag she had used on the journey to Beacon.

Blake broke the hug after an entire minute, to untie the hair ribbon from Emily's fingers, which had had their circulation cut off for long enough that they now resembled a high-quality Lincolnshire sausage. She took it and roughly tied up the amount Yang had placed in the bow before.

She then unsheathed the Gambol Sbroud, and sliced off the ends that had become such frizzy tangles with astonishing precision- such so that, if one did not already know she'd lost the end of her hair, they'd be none the wiser- before lobbing the pile of knots that had formed in the bin.

"Ok." Blake told Emily, her demeanour shifting back closer towards the cat-like nervousness and reclusive isolationism that Emily had previously seen from the pretty bookworm, "I'm gonna leave first so this doesn't look strange. Take five minutes before you come back. And remember, you are enough." The raven-haired girl gave the brunette one last squeeze, before she nonchalantly opened the door and dashed into the bedroom area of the teams' living space, where she would likely not have to speak with the glorified zoo attractions that had now left the dinner table.

***
"I am enough." Emily muttered to herself, as she strolled through to the kitchen-cum-living-room, looking just as she did upon leaving the table and her cane happily tapping alongside her.
Yang Xiao Long, proficient hunter and wordplay enthusiast, was the first to open her mouth.