Welcome to Gaia! ::

The evening wasn't going much better for Kirin. Exhausted, he'd returned home after suffering through the banality of school and a run-in with a sharp-clawed youma on his way home. When Kirin powered down in his apartment, he was anticipating nothing more than disinfecting some gashes and taking a long soak in a hot bath. What he received instead was a wardrobe malfunction.

Swearing his head off was therepeutic, but did nothing to fix a slashed bra and a punctured silcone falsie. And didn't it just figure that that was Kirin's last pair of fakes. A hunt through his dresser had turned up several other bras, but nothing to pad them out. Since Kirin had discovered early on that tissues did not a convincing bust make, he was in somewhat of a jam. He had school tomorrow - where he had to be a girl. Even ditching was risky, since he wasn't the only student to do so, and often saw other students on his 'days off'. There was nothing left to do but make an emergency shopping trip.

Kirin dressed carefully for his outing. A male buying those sort of products was suspicious, if not a dead give-away. A female with no chest buying them, perfectly understandable. He just had to ensure he still looked feminine enough to pass. A short, floaty skirt over jeans. A plain white button-up shirt was covered with a fluffy jacket that, when zipped up, make suggestive bumps in the right places - much like a girl in a large, bulky sweater, but without the worry of the sweater pulling tight to reveal a much flatter chest than any girl past puberty should possess. A smudge of clear lip gloss, and Kirin was content that no shop assistant would look twice at him when he entered a lingerie store and made his purchases.

Thankfully there was one mall that liked to stay open later than the rest. It was a fair hike - half a suburb away - but Kirin didn't have a problem with the walk. The sky was growing darker as he left his apartment block. Kirin thought it fitting, that his subterfuge take place under the cover of darkness. He checked his watch and increased his pace - faster than he liked to go in a neighbourhood where showing weakness often resulted in a chase of some kind. The scurry, combined with the fact that his hair was back in a rare ponytail today, made it very unlikely that Kirin would be recognised unless someone was staring him in the face.

It was too bad Zink couldn't read minds. Kirin trusted other senshi as much as he trusted the damn cats as much as he trusted the Negaverse. Which was to say, about as far as he could teleport them. On the other hand, it was a damn good think Zink couldn't read minds, or all of Kirin's big secrets would be out - and probably his life then over.

Zink was sneaky, but Kirin was used to this neighbourhood. It didn't take long to realise the second set of footsteps weren't fading or approaching, just keep careful time with his own. A scowl twisted his features. It was a common intimidation tactic, and always a popular one with the thugs around here.

"Oh, just piss off, you bast-" Kirin spat as he whirled around to face his stalker. His mouth dropped open mid-insult as he took in the appearance of the other male.

White leotard. Deep purple collar, sleeves and pants. A star-speckled blue sash and bow. All topped off with shiny sunset-red hair, with two pigtails gathered on either side.

Kirin's mouth worked several times, before he choked out, "What the ******** hell?"

Kirin's stalker was Sailor Foramen.

What Kirin was going to do was pinch his arm. He hissed and flinched. Possibly not a dream, then. Or did you still feel pain in dreams? Kirin wasn't sure. The Foramen in front of him certainly had the right attitude for when Kirin was in senshi form.

He frowned, golden eyes flickering back and forth over the figure in front of him as he tried to weight up the possibilities. He was dreaming, like an Elysion thing, only not set in that paradise and split in two to boot. He was awake and this was the attack of another senshi (corrupted, maybe?) or Negaverse agent. He was awake and this was a fake doppelganger who was just dressing up like Sailor Foramen.

Alright, that last one he could at least confirm or deny. Kirin stalked forward, a scowl on his face, pausing a few feet from "Foramen". He titled his head to one side, studying the face under red hair that matched his own in shade. While the magic of a senshi protected their identity, Kirin already knew who Foramen was, so he saw a mirror image of his own face. He paled, eyes widening.

His movement forward had also taken him into the path of a streetlight, so "Foramen" would have a good view of Kirin's own features. The night was turning into a surprise for both parties.

With Kirin's money now on either his 'dream' or 'magical split-me-in-half/reflection attack', he found his tongue. "There'll be no passing out here, unless it's you from me beating you unconscious. What the hell is a senshi like you doing here?"

Kirin wasn't about to let himself be beaten, not even if his opponent was himself.

What the hell? was what flashed through Kirin's mind as he stumbled backwards. Did he seriously just...?

Pushing was just so five-years-old. Sadly, the taunting mimicry wasn't making Kirin think his senshi side was mentally any older than that first estimate. One hand rubbed irritably across the spot where Foramen had pushed (for just a second flattening the bulky jacket). "What are you, a little kid?"

Kirin went on to prove his own maturity by marching back to Foramen and aiming a furious punch at the senshi's jaw. To be sure, he was no trained fighter; if he had any fighting style at all, it would be 'amateur bar brawler'. But he was pissed and that had to count for something.

"Oh, come on. We both know far more styles than boxing make use of punches," Kirin tsked. So now his alter ego wanted to show him up with big words? How naive to think the senshi could know more than the civilian did - Foramen was Kirin, after all. "Big words and fancy talk won't help you against me."

The kick at the lower leg had Kirin convinced that this was a true split or reflection of himself. This Foramen was pulling out moves that Kirin himself had used just recently. It was only due to that familiarity that Kirin was able to avoid the majority of the kick, just grazing the leg as Kirin sidestepped.

"Nice boots," he couldn't help quipping as he laced his hands together and spun, driving them towards Foramen's ribs like one giant fist.

Transforming never once crossed his mind. If it had, he would have believed it impossible at the moment (what with his 'split in half' theory). But his mind had easily accepted the poetic notion of a fight against the 'other' part of himself, and didn't think to question it any further.

"What works is far more important than what looks good," Kirin retorted. His brows immediately drew down, expression a clear 'did I just say that?' Looking good had always been a strong motivation, both as Kirin and as a senshi. Great, now he was arguing with himself just to be spiteful. Perhaps his senshi side was demanding that they develop some finesse in their fighting style...

Kirin cried out as the fist struck his jaw, dropping to the side. Recovering quickly, he rolled to his feet and darted back. Something salty and metallic filled his mouth. Kirin choked on a mouthful of blood, teeth having cut his cheek with the force of that hit. A trickle of blood escaped from one corner of his mouth. He wiped it away with the back of one sleeve, no-nonsense, not caring about the streak it left on his chin.

Perhaps it was the drawn blood, but Kirin's icy persona frosted into being. Anger still shone in his eyes, but now it was calculating and cold, no longer the fierce fire that he'd been throwing against the senshi.

"Of course I will win against you," he stated flatly. There was no doubt at all in his demeanour. "You don't seem to realise your place. I'm the master of my fate - and of yours. Understand that, already, and give in to me."

The strategic section of Kirin's mind restrained the body's urge to attack once again. Instead he waited, golden eyes alert for the slightest opening or weakness.

Kirin narrowed his eyes. His 'place in the world'? He understood it perfectly. Even though it was a solo, lonely place right now, he was the driving force behind Foramen. It was too bad for Zink that Kirin had faced his greatest challenge without powers, giving him a confidence that even should Kirin lose them, he wasn't helpless.

"You think senshi strength and speed are all that matter? So overconfident," Kirin scoffed. His eyes gave Foramen the once-over, then he sniffed. The senshi was very clearly being dismissed as a threat. "My conviction, you say. How appropriate. I survived worse things by the force of those convictions than you've ever seen. Just what have you done lately?"

It actually wasn't a lie that Kirin wasn't concerned about the physical advantages Foramen had over him. No, he was far more worried about his senshi side using his rift abilities. Kirin was surprised that Foramen hadn't done so already - it was one of their main tactics, after all. Or perhaps this was a battle of the minds, to see who would remain 'in charge'? Kirin was determined it would be him.

The stalemate was irritating. Of course Foramen would also stop attacking the moment Kirin did - if only to piss him off. Luckily Kirin kept his cool, but he did begin a slow stalk towards Foramen. "You'll never convince me to let you have your way, even if you beat me down a thousand times. So why don't you just give up? I promise I'll go easy on you."

The wide, seemingly-innocent eyes with which Kirin made his promise belied the clenched fist that swung low at Foramen's gut.