It wasn't often that Aimi would leave her office unless she had to attend a meeting, but that didn't mean she wanted to be so cooped up in her office. She was the president of a planet, which means she had to uphold an extremely professional, dignified, and classy image while showing people she's her true self outside of her presidential image. So, what was the solution to her problem? Traveling to South City, but not for a meeting. Instead, she used this as a time to relaxed. South City was the home of casinos and bars, a treat for Aimi in her younger years. Although she wasn't exactly in the mood for some gambling, let alone even try to gamble being the president at all (but a leader can have her fun from time to time), she definitely had the need to drink.
With an unlit cigarette clamped in between her lips, one of the two bodyguards that were side by side of Aimi opened the door for her, letting her enter into the bar first. Aimi's attire was different from her usual outfit. This attire was what she wears whenever she's out in public, but she does wear her other outfit here and there. While she wore her signature bamboo hat and glasses over her head, she wore a simple black dress with high heels that matched the color of her dress along with black stockings. The scent of alcohol and smoke reeked her nose, but she's gotten used to the unholy scent. It felt as if she were home again, in a way that she used to come to this bar from time to time whenever she was in need of getting drunk and forgetting all of her problems.
It took some time for the majority of the bar to quiet down when the people noticed Aimi's appearance. Others, on the other hand, lowered their voices while staring at the woman. And there was a small percentage of people who just carried on as if Aimi's appearance didn't matter. Aimi and her guards walked over to the counter as the woman then took her seat. The bodyguards stood around her, just in case anyone tries to do anything funny. As the bartender waltzed over to the president, she placed one elbow on the counter and rested her chin on her hand with a deadpan expression on her face.
"One of your finest whiskies, my good man." Aimi said. As the bartender nodded, Aimi fixed her posture as she made a soft sigh. "Pass me my lighter. I need a quick smoke." She ordered one of the guards.
Gira walked down South City's streets, several plastic sacks in her hands. She was out shopping today, as her food stores had run low. A Saiyan's appetite was voracious as it was, but she had been training hard lately. Being the sensei of the Turtle School had its stresses. She had to make sure she was plenty strong enough to provide a good education for her students... when she had students. As of right now, the special training ring she made was only used by herself. She hoped that soon, however, she would make enough of a name for herself for prospective students to begin flocking over. As she passed by a bar in South City's downtown, the half-Saiyan stopped.
Her stomach growled. She always was a fan of bar food, and it had been a couple of hours since she ate anything. "Well... surely I can spare a few moments." Opening the door to the bar, she stepped through the threshold. The smell of booze and tobacco assaulted her nostrils, causing her to scrunch up her nose. She liked bar food, but hated bars. taking a seat on one of the stools at the bar, she set her groceries down in the floor next to her. Once the barkeep made his way over to her, Gira smiled and gave her order. "Um... you got nachos? I'll take twelve orders of that." Gira thought for a moment. "And... a glass of milk. Thanks."
While the barkeep gave her order to the chef, the young warrior turned towards the stranger a couple of seats down from her. Whoever she was, she was clearly important, seeing as how she had bodyguards and all. When she asked for a lighter for her cigarette, Gira smiled at her. "You know... cigarettes are bad for your lungs. I once knew a kid from school that smoked. He couldn't even run a mile." She also didn't think alcohol was all that healthy, but this was a bar, so she decided to keep that opinion to herself. This woman was Earth's president, though Gira didn't know that yet.
She tended to keep to herself on her island, so if there was a change in power, she wasn't aware of it. She didn't even know the faces of any of the presidents from her lifetime. Perhaps she would have worded her statement a little differently if she knew that, but probably not.
As one of the bodyguards gave her a lighter, Aimi swiped it into her hands and lit up the match. Just when she was about to light her cigarette up, she heard someone making a comment regards to smoking. As she rose her left brow, she turned her head a few seats down where she then spotted a young woman with glasses who smiled at her. Aimi couldn't help but smirk at the woman as she said her little remark. "Well I'll be damned, and here I thought cigarettes can actually expand my lifespan by five years." She said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. But it didn't really help that she was smoking and drinking at the same time. Of course Aimi was no heavy drinker nor smoker compared to her younger self. Ever since then, Aimi had plenty of control over her addictions.
Aimi lit up her cigarette as she breathed in as much smoke as she could after handing the lighter to one of her bodyguards. Aimi then grabbed the cigarette with the space between her two fingers to pull it out of her mouth so she can blow a cloud of smoke in the air. Damn that felt good, Aimi would've said. Compared to her younger self, she couldn't remember the last time she enjoyed a cigarette without the stress of running a planet occupying her mind. It felt nice to just sit back, relax, and just smoke away while she drinks. It was a good way to kill fifteen minutes or so.
The bartender returned with a glass of whisky, placing it down in front of her. One of the bodyguards paid the bartender as Aimi then used her other hand to pick up the glass and take a sip of her drink. After her sip, she placed the glass down and made another sigh. Aimi turned her attention back to the other woman, as her brow was still raised, this time out of curiosity. "By the way, twelve orders of nachos? I hope you have some room for one more person to share that with." Aimi joked with a chuckle. She could go for a snack, and what would be better than snacking on something she didn't have to pay for?
Gira giggled slightly at the sarcasm in the President's voice. Of course she knew that cigarettes were bad for her. Who didn't know that at this point? As Gira's nachos and milk arrived, she began to dig in, almost diving face-first into the sticky cheesy goodness. She looked over at Aimi when she all but asked if Gira would share her nachos. The girl thought for a moment, her tail twitching as she did so. She was kind of hungry, but then again, she was raised to share. With a nod, the half-Saiyan slid one of the many plates of nachos over towards her new acquaintance.
"Here you go." She then went back to work on her own plates, clearing one with ease. Turning back towards Aimi, she gave her another smile. "I'm Gira. Nice to meet you." Gira introduced herself to the stranger. She liked making new friends, especially after spending so long by herself on an island. At this point, she hungered for interaction with another sentient being. Anyone. She hadn't made a new friend in a long time. "So, are you a martial artist? I myself know my way around a fight." Gira grinned proudly with cheese sauce on and around her lips.
She was happy that she found someone to speak to. While Aimi wasn't the sort of person that Gira would befriend normally, the half-Saiyan was the kind of person to believe that everyone who wanted to could be good. While Aimi appeared to at least be sarcastic in nature based on what little interaction they've had, the Turtle Hermit didn't get a creepy feeling about her like she did with most people with a less than rigid moral compass.
If there's one thing she learned about Saiyans from her perspective, is that she'll never understand their diet. Aimi doesn't think she would even want to either as she watched the other woman dig into her order as it came. Though, she made sure to keep a neutral face and remain from making any quick assumptions. However, luck was on her side as Aimi was given only just one of the plates of nachos that were ordered. It wasn't as if she actually wanted more than she intended. A simple shot of whisky was enough to do some justice, but a snack was also appreciated. "Thank you." She said as she took one nacho chip covered in cheese and shoved it into her mouth.
The other woman introduced herself as Gira. In response, Aimi acknowledged the fact with a nod as she returned a smile. "Gira." She repeated the name after she finished a chip, just to get a feel of what it sounds like when Aimi said it, and hopefully not getting it wrong on the first go. "Likewise. My name is Aimi." She said. "Mimi" was a nickname given to her mother, though to Aimi it felt as if she were being mocked hence why she would give a cold stare to those that even tried to utter the name out of their mouths. Was she annoyed? No, but "bothered" would be a lighter version of being annoyed.
Aimi took a sip of her whisky when Gira asked her about being a martial artist. She actually preferred swordsmanship, but she wouldn't say she was terrible at melee combat. "Hmm. You can say that, though I do prefer to fight with my katana. I know a few tricks or two up my sleeves in a fight." She cooed with another chuckle as she took another bite of her nachos. Aimi then proceeded to take another smoke from her cigarette and went on to taking a sip of her whisky. She couldn't help but eye Gira for a few seconds before bringing her attention back to the other woman's face. "So how long have you been training to fight?" She asked. Considering that the other woman looked young, it was a thought Aimi was curious about. Even though Aimi herself looked young for her age, it was still something she wanted to know.
"Aimi?" Gira knew the name, though she couldn't place from where. Clearly thinking about something deeply, she slowed down on her meal, instead taking it a chip at a time, a thoughtful look on her face. That was when she had an interesting thought; wasn't that the president's name? She may not know the president's face, but the name was something she did know. Suddenly, the bodyguards made a lot more sense. "Oh, nice to meet you, Madame President." The Turtle Hermit's tone was not one of shock or deference. It was more one of realization, like she had just realized who she was talking to. "Didn't realize who I was talking to." Taking a nearby napkin and wiping her face, she dove back into her mountain of nachos. As their conversation turned towards fighting, the girl seemed a little more interested, looking up from her food to respond. "That's cool. I'm not really a fan of weapons myself. Who needs weapons when you got this?" She made a fist and showed it to Aimi, a big grin on her face.
Dropping her fist by her side, she continued. "I'm actually in the business of teaching martial artists. I don't know if I can do it or not, but i'm sure as hell gonna try." She wasn't confident in her ability as a teacher. She wondered why the old man on the island chose her to take over for him. It wasn't like she was an incredibly experienced martial artist and she had never been a teacher before. Still, Gira wasn't the type to give up easily and she definitely wasn't the type to give up before she even made an attempt! The young woman was snapped out of her thoughts by the President asking how long she was training to fight. "Hm? Oh, i've been training for a real long time. Since I was little. Can't remember the exact age, though. My mom had me join a dojo when I was really young 'cuz I had lot of pent-up energy. I figure it must be my Saiyan heritage. From what I gather, stuff like that isn't normal for non-Saiyans." Gira chuckled and went back to eating her nachos, still speaking as she did so.
"What about you? I admit, i'm kind of curious how long you've been training with that sword. Have you been in any real fights? Like, stuff that wasn't really training or sparring?" Gira herself had never been in a life-or-death battle before, and she hoped she would never have to be. She loved to fight, true, but she loved to fight for fun. She had no desire to take a life or have her life taken from her. The thought alone that she might be out into that situation one of these days was frightening.
She couldn't help but quietly snicker to herself as Gira came to a realization of Aimi's position. She turned back to her plate of ' nachos and drink as she let out another cloud of smoke. "As if the bodyguards didn't make it more obvious." She joked while taking another bite of her nachos and a sip of her whiskey. "Call me Aimi, I won't bite." She added. Aimi didn't mind being referred by her first name, especially when she's off the job for a few. When it came to her breaks, Informality was no stranger to the woman. When it comes to her job, however, people better approach her with a proper posture, respect in their tone, and refer to her as "President Shizuke" or "Madame President".
A business of teaching martial arts? She wouldn't say she was surprised at the fact, but the thought of it was interesting. "Sounds like a suitable job for you to take." Aimi said. "Well, it depends on how young you were to consider that as abnormal. Some parents would take their kids to karate classes somewhere around their elementary age, so I wouldn't necessarily call that uncommon." She explained. She remembered telling her mother that she wanted to become a martial artist, just like her father despite their divorce. Although she didn't get her dream job, she did get a job that was far more commanding and filled with responsibilities.
"Oh, a very long time. I think I started when I was ten or eleven years old. And considering the position I brought myself in afterwards, it'd be common for me to get in multiple life threatening fights. Luckily for me, I've managed to survive them." Aimi said, and she had some scars that were covered up to back up her statement. "These days, getting out of a fight alive or dead is the equivalent to winning or losing." She said as she took another bite of her nachos. "And being the president of this planet, a mentality like that would have to pull through for the sake of protecting this planet. Is it something I want to do? No. Have to? Yes." Aimi remembered her father giving her that kind of mentality. Even when she was training with him, there were times where she would nearly murder her own father. "And with my katana, it gives me more flexibility in a fight. A better range to strike and defend, if I must say." Aimi said.
"Sometimes, whether you're in my position or not, you have to make a decision on whether you want to 'win' or permanently 'lose'. It's just how it is." She sighed, referring a win to staying alive and losing to getting killed.
Gira chuckled nervously at Aimi. Indeed, the bodyguards made it obvious that she was a person of status, though the assumption that she was the literal leader of the planet never entered her mind. When the president said to call her by her first name, the half-Saiyan nodded. "Okay... Aimi." Gira smiled and shoved another fistful of nachos down her gullet, getting a sudden look of realization on her face. She was in the company of the president, and her mom always taught her to be polite around important people. All that time away from civilization certainly did a number on her manners. Taking a napkin and politely wiping the cheese sauce from her hands and face, she then began to eat one chip at a time in a much more dignified manner.
"I was six when I joined the adult class, I remember that much. Everyone made a big deal out of it, so that stuck in my mind. I hadn't been a part of the dojo for long I don't think. I don't mean my age, though. About it being abnormal. I mean... you don't seem like you have any Saiyan heritage, so it's hard to explain..." Gira furrowed her brow, looking like she was thinking again. "I suppose the best way to describe it is like a feeling of restlessness. You can't sit still. It's like you have to get that energy out somehow. Most people can go on a run or something, but for me, there was only one way to get relief; I had to fight." Gira then listened as Aimi answered her question.
She apparently started young too, though not quite as young as Gira. She had apparently also been in a battle for her life too. Had she killed someone before though? If Gira had to guess, she would say yes based on how Aimi was speaking. The Turtle Hermit had never killed someone, nor did she want to. She hoped she would never be put in the position where she had to decide to take someone's life or not, though if she ever was, she would likely try to find another way. Taking another bite of her nachos and having another sip of her milk, she spoke again. "Yeah. I... guess I can understand that. I don't know what i'd do in that situation. I guess i've been fortunate enough to never have been put in that situation."
She nervously swirled the liquid around in her glass. "So, uh... do you ever spar for, like, fun?" To Gira, the act of combat was in itself fun. She didn't know if this was also her Saiyan heritage or something unique to her, but it was like the ultimate game; and one she always wanted to win.
