Hayasui and Rachel: Fire Forged Friends?

With the match over and Rachel given some rudimentary first aid (Or at least whatever aid you can give to someone lacking any open wounds, but nonetheless fucked up so badly that walking was difficult.), Hayasui removed the handcuffs and proceeded to toss them in the nearest trash can. Having changed into something a bit more decent than the bikini, Hayasui found herself waiting for Rachel to finish changing, having decided that she'd take her newest friend (hopefully) to her place for some care that was a bit more...personalized. At least enough for Rachel to be able to function tonight.

Hayasui left Rachel in the locker room with some bandages and the like, and honestly the whole thing made her want to laugh (well, except that laughing really hurt right now). She always healed pretty remarkably, enough that her friends and past relationships always called her a freak of nature for how quickly she recuperated, and really that was the only way she had been able to keep up with this line of work. Still the thought was nice, and it certainly supported her theory that that Hayasui just wanted to be friends, and the beating she got was mostly misunderstandings.

There was still one problem, though, as she awkwardly exited the locker room. "Uh... you would't have anything for me to wear, would you? I'm embarrassed to say I didn't think this 'swimsuit match' thing all the way through," she asked, nervously rubbing her arm (until it started hurting, at which point she promptly stopped).

Hayasui cocked an eyebrow at Rachel's query.

"Sure, hang on," she said, heading back to her locker to retrieve a spare set of clothes she kept in there just in case. It was a fairly simple set, composed of a black jacket, blouse, jeans, and underwear.

"Umm, Rachel," Hayasui started, "Are you telling me you basically ran from wherever you bought that swimsuit to the match without changing out of it?"

Rachel blushed nervously. "Uh... no, not exactly. Well, kinda... I had to pick these up in a hurry, ya know? So... yeah, I guess so. They're probably still at the store, come to think of it." She scratched her chin as she pondered it for a moment before her attention was diverted back to the extra clothes. "Wow, you really come prepared," she said, smiling. Most of the clothes didn't really look like it'd fit her, but it was close enough that it wouldn't fall off, and the gesture was nice enough. "Oh, and... thanks."

She went around back to the lockers with the extra clothes, sans the underwear. While it might not be quite as comfortable, the bikini she had on fit the part well enough and wearing another girls underwear felt... scandalous. She wasn't ready to go there... at least not yet.

She came back fully dressed and did a half-twirl that ended in a meek limp, but it seemed good enough for her. "How do I look?"

Hayasui looked away for a moment, trying to act like she wasn't aware of her face feeling like it was on fire right now. She looked back to find Rachel fully dressed now, attempting a half-twirl, though ending on a bit of a limp.

"Fine," the girl said, "Minor limp aside. Come on, we can head by that swimsuit store and pick up your clothes before we head to my place."

With that, Hayasui offered Rachel her shoulder if she needed it on the way out to the former's car.

"Heh, thanks," Rachel chuckled. "It's certainly not my usual getup but it's cute enough I guess." Part of her was glad to have these clothes for the time being, not just for her own sake, but for Hayasui's. Her normal clothes, let alone her skimpy bikini, would have exposed a number of bruises on her back and stomach, which only got more visible with time. Sure, most people's first assumption wouldn't be that the girl she's hanging out with was the one who made those marks, but it was better to be safe than sorry, and this blouse was a good deal safer than her hoodie. "Anyway, I think the place is closed..." she responded with a cocked eyebrow as the clock on the wall caught her gaze. These matches were really evening events anyway. "Don't worry about it, I'll check in the morning. Besides, I just have like, a bunch of pairs of the same clothes. I guess that's a thing that happens when you become a wrestler."

She gladly took the offered shoulder as the two of them headed out of the building, a tired, but not forced, smile across her face.

Hayasuit shrugged at Rachel's explanation.

"If you're sure," she said.

With that, Hayasui proceeded to lead Rachel out of the building and over to her car, a weathered Toyota that had proven reliable even after all the years it had spent on the road. Helping Rachel into the passenger-side seat, Hayasui got into the driver's seat and got them on their way to the little house she had tucked away in a quiet neighborhood.

"So," Hayasui started when the awkward silence grew to be too much, "How long have you been fighting there? In the AFW, that is."

Rachel had to suppress a laugh at the question, "fighting" felt like a very relative term right now. "Uh, well... I don't really know. Like half a year, I think. Maybe a bit longer," she replied a bit nervously. "Oh yeah, that reminds me! Good job on winning your first match, eh? New kid on the block and you've already got a win under your belt!" she chuckled with a playful punch to Hayasui's arm. "You've already got a better track record than I do!"

Hayasui raised an eyebrow at Rachel's reply, before her expression grew somewhat thoughtful. She chuckled along with Rachel, as if the punch to her shoulder had somehow transferred the girl's humor to her as well. The momentary laughter stopped when the rest of Rachel's statement registered.

"Wait a minute," she said as they pulled into the drive, "You mean to tell me you've never won a match?"

The house was a fairly simple one, two stories with large willow overlooking the driveway. Hayasui pulled into the driveway and waited for an answer from Rachel.

Whoops. The last thing Rachel meant to do was open up some can of worms, but it was too late now. "Well I mean, yeah," she awkwardly responded, scratching the back of her head. "A lot of my matches go roughly how ours went, a few of them go worse," she trailed off, before looking back with a forced smile. "Don't worry about it, though, really. They pay me all the same and it's seriously a good gig!"

Desperate to change the subject, Rachel peered out the window. "That's your place? Holy shit, it's not bad!"