Everything hurts.

Her joints, her face.

Even her teeth hurt in such a way that they feel like they're trembling within the confines of her gums, wriggling their way free. The shower she took after the event was a red one and she took a certain sick pleasure in staring into the black void beyond the drain as the sticky crimson remnants of her fight with Jamie Hayter swirled beneath her and disappeared. To her disappointment, it turned out that stitches weren't necessary to seal the wound brought on by the glass pitcher shattered over her head... she wanted the pain... she likes it, but that was before she returned to the hotel to clean up, allowing the adrenaline to wear off and reality to take hold.

This pain is intense.

This pain... will do.

There's a sound of silverware scraping on a glass plate.

Momo sits in a booth at the center of a local diner, far from the isolated corner she would prefer... but this is what he wants. He wants to be the center of attention. In a baggy t-shirt and oversized purple hoodie, Momo keeps her head down as she eats. Her face is obscured by damp hair. Despite the pain, the bruising, and the fact that she's violently stabbed behind the eyes every single time she moves, Momo devours her waffles with purpose, yet her eyes never leave the man sitting across from her in the lime green suit and tea shades. He has no plate in front of him, or even a drink. He simply sits in silence, smiling with his hands clasped in front of him on the table. Momo's knife and fork scrape across the plate, creating a grating noise before and after each admittedly large bite. A strand of maple syrup falls slowly and deliberately from her bottom lip and comes to a casual rest on the plate below. If she notices, she doesn't let on. She speaks in Japanese, sounding dull and uninterested. Her words appear at the bottom of the screen, translated in bold yellow text.


< Is she coming in? >

Sonny's smile becomes larger with a hint of menace.


< Are you kidding? WWN cameras are everywhere, Momo-chan. It wouldn't be wise to reveal the ace we are hiding in our sleeve so early, would it? >

Momo glares at him and tightens the grip on her knife. He leans back in his seat, letting her know he notices the gesture. However, his smile doesn't waver and he speaks with confidence.


< She is a metaphorical ace. Like you would find in a deck of cards. We will reveal her identity when the time is right... when it benefits us the most! Everyone knows that you are the one true Ace of WLCW, okay? Now, eat your waffles. >

Momo relaxes her grip on the blade and looks down at the plate, then back up at Onoo. She absentmindedly saws away at the waffle beneath her, seemingly satisfied by his answer. He, too, seems to gain satisfaction from watching her eat, nodding as he stares right back into her eyes through the tinted lenses of his shades. He reaches into his jacket and removes a pack of cigarettes. He lights one and allows it to hang on his bottom lip as he puts the pack away.


< Eat up, Momo-chan. You must become big and strong if you are going to carry these soft and pathetic women on your back. >

Scrrrtch.

Her fork scrapes the bottom of the plate, wreaking havoc on the ears. Chewing, Momo's eyes narrow. She swallows the bite, and though her voice remains dull and low, there's no doubt that there is force behind her words.


< She is not soft. >

Onoo's smile now hides his teeth. He takes a drag from the cigarette and exhales smoke into the small diner. Behind the counter, we can see a waitress take notice and roll her eyes.


< Jamie Hayter... is not soft. >

She reaches up and pulls her hood back, then moves her hair aside, revealing bruising along her jawline and busted blood vessels in the corner of her eye. The cut just below her hairline, courtesy of the shattered pitcher, still appears fresh and glistens in the overhead light.


< Her attacks... are very powerful. >

Onoo leans in, smiling ear to ear.


< But are yours not more powerful? >

The hand holding the cigarette trembles and ash falls onto the table.


< Does your power not come from a place of darkness which Jamie Hayter could not comprehend? You are the Black Peach. Rotten to your very core, yes? She might have a hard candy shell but-- >

A voice comes from above.


Sir.

Jolted back to reality, he looks up at the woman standing over him. She scowls and gestures toward the cigarette in his hand. He looks down at it and shrugs, confused.


You're not allowed to smoke that in here.

Momo doesn't look up, continuing to eat, unbothered.


Oh, so sorry.

Sonny smiles and reaches into his jacket, coming out with a folded up bill. He hands it to the waitress. She looks down at it and raises an eyebrow.


I will finish cigarette. How about you forget you saw it, okay? It will be our little secret.

She holds the bill up between two fingers.


Sir, this is a dollar.


Valid American currency, yes. If you want better pay, maybe you should have pursued computer science instead of waiting tables and relying on tips like a disgusting beggar.

She gently places the dollar on the table in front of him.


I'm working my way through college, asshole.

That hangs in the air for a moment.


Put out the cigarette or leave.

Sonny clears his throat and stubs out the cigarette on the table, then quickly grabs the dollar and shoves it back inside his jacket. The waitress nods politely and walks away. He huffs loudly and looks back at Momo. He tries to hide the annoyance in his voice.


< Where was I? >

Momo chews and swallows another bite.


< Jamie Hayter is like candy-- >


< Oh, yes! Candy metaphors, what fun. She has a hard candy shell like many insecure little girls. Very likely because of daddy issues. It is a problem with all Western women. It would certainly explain the uncomfortable relationship with the little man. So sad, but-- but once you break that candy shell, there is nothing left but a soft and chewy center. >

< I do not care what is at her center. >

Scrrrtch. Another bite. Chew. Swallow.

< I will hit her until her candy shell breaks. If what I find inside is soft, I will crush it. If it is solid, even if it is like steel, I will hit her until that breaks, too. She has humiliated me with her stubborn refusal to quit. I will repay that humiliation with physical punishment and, ultimately, her end. >

Onoo chuckles dryly.

< Your confidence inspires me so much, Momo-chan. I have no doubt that the injury to her little boy toy will rattle her, making her defeat much more convenient for you. You're welcome for that little artistic flourish, by the way. I am sure it was your intention to tell me how much that gesture meant to you sooner than later. >

His tone is condescending. The corner of Momo's mouth twitches, forming a knowing smirk. She knows his game, how he wants credit for any success she may achieve.

< Do not confuse our relationship for anything more than one of convenience, Onoo-san. Foley-san hired you so that I could more easily navigate this country and adjust to its ways. I did not ask for a companion. I did not ask for the girl who waits outside either. I wanted this to be my journey, alone. >

< Momo-chan! You saw how happy it made her to run down the little man in that car. Imagine the look on her face if it turns out he is permanently injured! Do not deprive her of such joy. >

Momo looks down at her plate, pushing around the final bite with her fork. Her knowing smirk becomes a genuine smile.

< It was very funny how he convulsed on the ground afterward. He was so pathetic and helpless. It makes me feel warm inside to think about it. I hope to see the same look on Jamie's face when we meet again. >

Momo's head tilts slightly as she looks at the final bite stuck to the end of her fork. She stares longingly at it... past it, even. The lights are on but Momo is clearly off somewhere else.

< I could almost forgive her humiliation for how she has made me feel-- >

< What... what has she made you feel, Momo-chan? >

Momo blinks, turning the fork in her fingers.

< --anything. >