Wednesday, 19th of July, 23:04

Irony gave a chilly kiss to the back of her neck as the female caught herself preferring to eat in the dusty lonesomeness of the cell than in the wide, noble living room, accompanied by the awkward silence of Yasu's attendance. Tonight, it was as well the bluehead's watch, supported by Akito and supervised by Isamu. As [y/n] had woken up, the door to her quarter already stood open. This evening, she hadn't been disturbed in her sleep, neither from the males personally nor from the noises they caused. Even though she was thankful to leave the rest's ending to her own body for once, the itching thought of being watched in her sleep sent shivers down her spine. When the girl cautiously strove into the dining hall, somewhat feeling a littler more vitalized than the previous nights, a plate filled by a stack of pancakes had awaited her, artistically topped by cream, syrup and blueberries. The sweet, mouth- filling smell had even managed to bring her into a small moment of meditation. She deeply inhaled the scent, lids closed and her lips tugged into a faint smile. But the moment was shredded as soon as she became aware of another one's presence. It was Yasu who thoughtfully gazed at her from the couch. [y/n] winced at the eye- contact, before she hastily averted her gaze, grabbed the dish with enough momentum to make the tower sway dangerously and stomped back towards the cell. Even if their eyes had met for not longer than a mere second, it was enough to bring the pictures of the bygone day in the front of her mind.

Nine hours ago...

[y/n] instinctively shoved herself closer into the sofa's back. For a moment, her face couldn't decide what emotion to express- Her brows arched up in bafflement, before being furrowed in disarray, before eventually relaxing as she realized the joke her ears had played on her. "Wh- what...?" She puffed out, almost giggling about the ridiculous misunderstanding of hers. But all signs of amusement faded as the male only repeated his words.

"I mean it" His voice was tender, even seemed fragile, but his gaze remained focused and intense. "I won't tell Katsuro that you were in his office, if you give me a kiss"

The captive gaped at him. She couldn't tell what disturbed her more: The fact that he knew about her outbreak's destination, even though they had only encountered on her way back; which meant he either heard her on her journey and had awaited her here because he knew she would come back, or he had been there all along and followed her; both options bringing equal terror to her heart. Or the senseless, bewildering offer he just made.

Her mouth opened, closed and parted again. "Haha Yasu, very funny..." she eventually managed to press out, her vocals thin and high, the fear about his seriousness not suppressible. She suddenly felt very embarrassed. As the boy still made no move to change the situation, and only appeared to inch even closer, she tried to hide her discomfort with a frown. "What kind of stupid option is that even?! Why would you even want that?!"

Despite her now accusatory tone, the answer to her last sentence hit her with such obviousness that she felt even more stupid. The question should rather be: Why should he not want to be kissed by her? He was an adolescent male- His age included in a human's sexually most active stage of life. And she was a young woman, trapped in his personal space. [y/n] sensed the heat flushing to her head. She prayed to simply blend in with the furniture behind her.

And her status did not seem to better while the cyanhead still silently observed her with those cold, bright eyes.

How is he even able to say such things with a straight face?

But then, Yasu let out an audible sigh, took a step back and slumped down onto his lower half. "I- " he started, his focus now directed to the floor. The long pause which followed let the captive figure whatever he was about to say, it was anything else but easy for him. He hid his lips behind the back of his hand. "I've just... I've just never kissed someone before."

His voice was barely considerable as mumble. Some when during the last nights, the lass had lost trust in the condition of her senses, but she still meant to see a tint of pink on the boy's pale cheeks. Her mind on the other side, was nothing but a blank canvas. She was too overwhelmed by the unexpected explanation to form a suitable reaction. Out of all the reasons he could have stated- [y/n] could not believe she just had been confronted by something so innocent, so pure- hearted.

Too pure- hearted for a kidnapping mafia member. Too innocent for someone who shot people without as much as blinking.

Yet considering his shy, socially unobtrusive and passive behavior, she wouldn't wonder if he really... She quickly shook her head, before her chest could flutter and warm up even more. "I definitely will not do that, Yasu"

The member had already brought himself up to his feet. "I understand" his vocals were back to being dry and neutral, as if the whole conversation had never taken place. "It's my duty anyway to inform the boss about-"

"Wait!"

His orbs widened as he stared down at girl. She had stopped him from leaving by catching his wrist, and her feminine [e/c] eyes shimmered with panic. His heart skipped a beat, only to accelerate more than normally. Her gaze darted to all corners of the room, while her grasp on his arm tightened. Her fingers were warm. Warm and delicate.

"Please!" she whispered, almost whimpered. His nerves twitched. "Please don't tell Katsuro. God knows what he will do to me..."

The captive's guts cringed by the mere thought of the blond's threatening aura. If the most reserved and diffident of his underlings could already be this bold, she did not even dare to imagine what the haughty adult was capable of. "I..." she subconsciously pierced her nails into the boy's skin. Eventually, she jumped up, let go of him and clutched her shirt. "Fine. But only one, little, short kiss" Oh lord, please just end me already before these guys do.

Yasu's hues grew even wider, and he tilted his head, now him being the one in readable disbelief. Something close to a hesitant smile appeared on his lips. He slightly shifted towards her.

The female took a deep breath, held it for a moment before letting it go through gritted teeth, closing her eyes. She at least did not want to look at him. She heard him taking a step closer. She sensed his upper body brushing against hers.

Quickly, almost roughly, her head moved forward- Only to halt at the last separating inch. She brought her mouth to his, whereby she strictly watched out, as much as her gone vision allowed, to make the contact as faint and briefly as possible. It was a soundless, feathery connection of soft skin. Then [y/n] hastily turned on her heels, stomped back to the cubicle with clenched fists and confused thoughts. She let the door fell shut and crawled underneath her blanket, where she finally gave up to the needed slumber and comforting illusion of everything just being a dream.

Yasu was not as fast as her. He stood on the spot motionless, embraced by the darkness that returned with the closing's echo. His fingers traced his lips. The sensation of her tangency still lingered there. Light and tender as a butterfly. Her scent had filled the air around him and stayed with him like a shadow, only aggravating the strange pain in his stomach that had appeared with her department. Next time, he would ask for more.

[Y/n] quickly tried to leave the bluehead's field of vision and fled into her sleeping room, a bundle of socks between the door and the frame to prevent it from closing. She planned on avoiding the boy as much as possible today, what could turn out as a little difficult regarding her options. She had, sitting on the carpet, barely half- way finished her breakfast in temporary peace when the entrance flung open, making the girl and the pancake- pile quiver equally. One of the creamy circles glided down from his position. With a smack, it landed on her thigh. The captive glared at the male in the frame, whose leg was still risen from the kick.

"Good evening, sleeping beauty" Akito sneered. Derision dripped from his words, but the expression he wore was one of annoyance and argumentativeness. "How about getting your lazy cute a** out of here and join me in the training hall?"

"No"

"Then- Wait, did you just say no!?"

She couldn't help but giggle at the increasing volume of his voice. She knew she- literally- played with fire, but the little effort it took to hack him and his ego off had an amusing downside.

Akito exasperatedly narrowed his eyes. He was just about to make a jump at her, as her vocals caught him off guard once again. Her gaze strayed up and down his form in what seemed like consideration before she eventually spoke out, rather bored than welcoming: "At least wait 'til I have finished. You can sit down with me, I can't eat them all anyway"

The redhead intently gazed at the spot where she invitingly tapped on the floor. The corner of his mouth twitched with the intention to release a snarky comment. He had started the night with having absolute zero interest in spending it with the brat and her not- as- bad- as- expected combat skills; the only thing that brought him the motivation to leave the bed was the thought of having her pretty face distorted in recognition of her defeat. But for once, his mind worked faster than his tongue. He was hungry, and there was no serious disadvantage of wasting his time in her company. Huffing out, he reluctantly slumped down next to her. That's when he spotted the food sticking to her leg.

The female squealed as the boy suddenly touched her skin. Her brain considered the place as intimate region, and instantly sent shivers of surprise and embarrassment to the limb. Akito, now holding up the lost pancake, gaped at her for a second- Before falling into a mocking, yet open- hearted laughter. He couldn't tell what amused him more: The discovering of her breakfast in a place where breakfast was not supposed to be; her overacted reaction or the obvious amount of blood that rose into her head in this very second. Now, it was his turn to be the sassy one.

Having a devilish sparkle in his orange hues, he traced his finger across her thigh and through the left stain. He watched how the captive tracked his movements in horror and bafflement- And had to suppress a hiss of pain as a fork was slammed into the back of his hand. Luckily, the tool was too blunted to cause actual damage, yet the lass had enough strength to pierce it through the first few layers of his dermis.

Buy the time Akito progressed what had just happened, she had already jumped to her feet and stormed out of the room. He watched her angrily departing form, before he licked the sweet cream of his finger.

"Here"

The redhead handed her a knife. She warily glowered at him, than analyzed the thrusting weapon with the same cautiousness. She eventually took it, firmly holding it in her grasp. The solid heft and the metal's weight gave off a comfortable, soothing sensation- Knives had always been her favorite arms. Akito had taken around ten wide steps backwards, looking at her with empty indifference. "Now, try to attack me" he spoke, his vocals neither challenging nor impolitely ordering. The female had realized in the bygone days and sessions, that the redhead surely had his temper and seemed to know- or care for- no limits; but whenever it came to her 'training', he acted all matter- of- factly, professional even. He either took it this serious or he was just so bored by it that he did not even put the effort in showing emotions anymore. [y/n] focused on him. His posture was relaxed yet open, able to twitch into defense any moment. By the observing gaze in his hues, she could tell he expected her to follow his demand. She tightened her grasp, took a deep breath, got into position- and refused to fall for his trap.

"No" her tone was steady. She crossed her arms at her chest. "I would not attack you with a melee weapon from this distance. You could predict my movements, have enough space to flee or even surprise me with a weapon of your own."

Akito narrowed his lids. A pleased, when not even somewhat proud smile danced around his mouth. "Very well" he laughed. "Someone is not as stupid as she looks like".

The addressed someone was about to huff out, when not realizing that this was the closets to a compliment she had ever received from him. His ego probably did not permit him to loudly admit her cleverness.

"Okay, let's change the situation" he started again.

Two sweat- drenching hours later, [y/n] left the training hall with red cheeks and messy hair. Akito acknowledged she had made acceptable progress in that time, what he of course refused to let her know though. However, the girl was equally confused by her partner. She warily glanced down the corridor before entering the bath; having closed the door behind her, she let out a pant of irritation. The feisty and impulsive redhead had been surprisingly modest with his force. Maybe her body had started to get used to his hard and pushing conditions, or maybe he had really been a little less cruel than the previous lessons- However, her muscles did not ache as much, and she did not even bleed despite of the fact that weapons had been involved.

While letting the warm water soothe her tension and replacing the salty smell with a gentle lavender one, the captive contemplated the bygone minutes. Something about the male's acting was off. He had complained, but he didn't yell while doing so; he had rebuked her about mistakes, but immediately corrected her. There was one moment that had stayed stuck in her head like being burnt in, and won't even faint when she massaged shampoo in her [h/c] scalp: At one point, due to a mistake of hers, Akito had gained the upper hand. She was forced on her front, pressed on the floor, one strong hand twisting her arm on the back while the other moved the blade to her neck. She shivered as the cold metal made contact with her heated skin. For the beat her heart had skipped, she actually feared him to cut through her artery. But all that happened was him mumbling a "See, this is why you never let your armed hand get out of sight" before retracting the lethal tool and disappear from her form. He even offered her a hand, and as she had gaped at it for too long, he just grabbed her wrist and swiftly, yet not roughly pulled her upwards.

After taking her what she claimed as "well- deserved time" in the bathroom, the lass threw a sheepish glance into the hallway. She had forgotten to bring a change of clothes with her, and she did not want to slip her clean, fresh body into the old, smelly shirt. [y/n] tightened the towel around her. Looking around diffidently, she made wide paces into the living room- Just to freeze in the middle of a step as she spotted the still present cyan head on the sofa. The TV was illuminated by a digital demonstration of a chessboard, and its owner seemed to be rather caught up by it. The female suppressed a groan. The door to the cell that held the needed items just as her privacy inside was closed. And after all the times she had sneaked through it, she knew there was no way to open it without giving off a squeaking, alarming noise. Reversing the intention of her relaxing shower, her pulse accelerated again as she remembered their last encounter. She really despised the idea of him seeing her in this state.

But the person who entered the scene next was not any more convenient.

"Nice dress. I assume you got it from Katsuro?"

 She swung around, clutching the textile to her chest. Two anthracite hues glowered down on her. Isamu's mien was unreadable like iron and equally hard. But what made the air even more frigid was the grin that curled his lips, while his gaze held nothing even close to amusement. "I was just about to get you to the kitchen. Maybe you should leave this on, we won't have to worry about your clothes getting stained then"

His words were mocking and brought fire to the girl's face. But his voice was prosaic and clearly reflected his displeasure. She opened her mouth to retort, but her vocals stayed unheard. With a frowning grimace, she ripped open the door and disappeared into the cubicle.

"You have two minutes. Else I' ll come in and help you pick something!" the ravenhead yelled after her, a dark laugh following his words.

Punctual 120 seconds later, [y/n] stood with a new outfit next to the same man and chopped carrots in silent fury. Isamu had started some talks in between, about what a careless and stupid and wretched and useless girl she was, and how her carrot slices were too thin or too thick or simply ugly. She considered disappearing into the bath again, if it weren't for the irresistible smell that emerged from their developing cooking. He dived a spoon into the sauce, nipping the liquid with a testing expression.

"And?" was the first thing the captive finally spoke.

The male nodded absentmindedly, seeming satisfied with his work, and dipped the silverware back in the pot. The filled cutlery now hovered in front of her.

"Uhh..." she started, doubting she was understanding the gesture correctly. "I... I think I can get my own spoo- Mmhh!"

Before she could finish, the male had rolled his eyes and shoved the tool into her mouth. She was not even able to complain as her taste buds exploded with joy. "Perfect!" She exclaimed.

Isamu watched the female's face lighting up. Relief streaked his chest as her frown faded. Her grumpy ignorance had started to provoke him.

"...Me too" a quiet voice mumbled from behind.

She glimpsed over her shoulder to see Yasu, or at least his half- profile. He didn't meet her gaze and visibly preferred to study the kitchen counter. The girl analyzed his bashful features, firstly baffled, then unsettled, then softening. She took the spoon from Isamu's grasp and twirled it through the viscid liquid, before offering it to the slender boy. But instead of taking it from her fingers how she expected, he lowered his head and closed his lips around the silver ware.

Soon after, the captive sat between her three guards at the kitchen table. Isamu had declined Akito's plead to "make an exception and eat on the god f***ing sofa", because his "precious cushions had already suffered enough"- this is where he shot a sharp glance to the girl- and now the redhead refused to eat his vegetables. [y/n] found the whole act not only highly amusing, but even somehow comfortable. It looked like an act from a normal's family normal daily life, and for a second, it brought her back to the days she had spent her meals together with her beloved grandparents. Diving into the memories, her loaded fork sank back down.

The little girl excitedly shuffled around on her seat as her grandmother placed the steaming bowl on the table. "Uh- uh" the woman warned and handed her a fork, "wait a second darling, it's still hot"

She pouted for a moment, impatiently gaping at the food that was not only hers but also her mother's favorite dish. Her eyes widened."When can we see mommy again?!"

The older female's grip on the cutlery tightened, and the man next to her visibly winced. It was silent for a long moment. None of them looked at her. [y/n] was about to repeat her question, unsure whether the adults had even heard her.

"...That might take a while, my lovely [y/n]"

Hearing her name unsettled the child. Her granny always used terms of endearment for her- if she spoke her actual name, it was only in a serious or negative context. The woman continued. "As you know, mommy is very sick"

She knew that her mother was in a hospital, but it was a very strange one, not similar to those she knew from movies or where she was when she had injured her knee. It was different. "How long will she still be sick?"

The two parents exchanged quick glances. The man cleared his throat. "The sickness of your mother... It's not an easy one. It does not go away with a little medicine"

"So it's worse than a cold?"

"Yes, a little. People get this sickness when they have too much stress. It's rather their head that's sick than the body. It happens when they are really worried, or sad, or even afraid-"

"Was mommy afraid of something...?"

"Yo brat, you still there?"

When [y/n] snapped back to the present, two of the three males had already left the table. She found Isamu disappearing down the corridor, Yasu back at the television and Akito giving her a questioning frown. Her plate was the only one still filled. "...Sure."

The redhead analyzed her, his face displaying something between concern and mistrust. He eventually shrugged. "You do the dishes"

"Excuse me!? Do I look like-"

"Do it or I do you" he waved her off, already leaving the area. She glared at his back.

The captive had followed the task, but only with the intention to kill some time, so she was at least able to kill something. She shook her hands as she had finished the pile, drops of water dispersing around her, and left the kitchen. The bluehead had turned around on his spot, his chin on the backrest. His gaze lingered on her, but his eyes held no specific focus. She quickly turned her head and strove out of his view.

"[y/n]"

The girl stopped, briefly glancing back. The boy's gaze hadn't moved, he still stared at the spot where she stood before. "...Would you... Would you like to join me for a game?"

He still did not look at her, and her gaze switched to the broad screen that showed the black and white tiles. "Chess? Sorry, I don't know how..."

"I'll teach you" His cyan orbs eventually drifted to her. "It's not that hard."

"Can't you just ask Akito?"

"Too stupid"

"...Isamu?"

He stayed quiet for a moment. "Isamu is busy"

Indeed, the man was nowhere in sight, which was both easing and unsettling. The lass weighed out here options- which went quick, since there were none. As long as the three members surrounded her, there was no chance of escaping anywhere. She could hide in her cell and do, well, nothing. A long, pressed exhale swung through her lips. She eyed the male, his eyes wearing a pleading shimmer. She saw him spending so many hours with the game; but he was always alone. He should be just as bored as her. Carefully, [y/n] paced over, sitting down as far away as possible. From the corner of her eye, she saw him observing her.

"...You need a controller first"

Yasu slowly shuffled over to her, and instantly stopped when she turned to look at him. He even winced- And made a face like expecting her to slap him. The lass was not that far away from that idea, yet arched her brows. She felt respected by his carefulness, but the hesitancy in his blue hues appeared to be a little over the top. She opened her palm towards him, letting him place the device in her hand. He did not return to his previous position and stayed the arm- length next to her.

It took her an hour to understand the basic construct of the game, and additional thirty minutes to memorize the way each figure was allowed to move. But despite of her inexperience, the boy stayed patient. He remained calm and polite, even when explaining the same move again and again. He made no comment when the girl did something that turned out as very inconvenient, and praised her when she made a clever strike. Her thoughts flew to Akito and the last training session. Maybe his lessons would be a little less nerve- racking if he were to praise her too.

Yasu even let her win the first test- game. She knew very well how his loss was intended, yet she couldn't help but smile at the feeble feeling of victory and understanding. Soon enough, [y/n] had banned her inhibitions and found much amusement in the welcomed distraction.

In fifth grade, chess was something boring the unpopular, over- intelligent geeks played. In middle school, it was suddenly something the cool, mature high- schoolers did. She somewhen had developed a slight interest for it, yet neither had the equipment nor someone to teach her. Today, where the captive owned nothing but the clothes she had worn at her kidnapping, in a time where her only concern was to stay alive, she sat on an expensive sofa and learned a skill she had completely abandoned. She rested the controller on her lap and turned to her companion. "Thank you for showing me, Yasu. You're a good teacher."

The member's grip on the device tightened. His eyes went wide and his mind went blank. He turned his head away, mumbling something under his breath. She payed no attention to his shy muttering as she focused on the moving figure. From the amount of knowledge he owned and the confidence of his actions, it was obvious that the male played in a pretty high league. "Where did you learn this though?"

It took him a while before he spoke. "...I've spent the majority of my childhood alone". His gaze wandered to the ceiling, his mind into the past. "My parents did not want me to play anything that made noises. At the same time, they refused to spend money on 'useless' toys, so the only things I could entertain myself with was what we had standing around at home- Which was chess, go, Mah- Jongg and educational literature"

At first, she could not quite grasp his words, thinking of the million opportunities she had back then to spent a fun time with. But then it came to her senses: Having friends over, sports, music, television; all these things causes sounds. "...Were your parents busy people?"

His focus flung back to her. He analyzed her for a second before giving a light nod. "You could say so. They had important jobs and mostly worked from home. I was not allowed to disturb them or claim much of their attention"

Even though his voice was steady and sober, like giving something trivial as the weather report, [y/n] could not imagine that no pain resonated with the scenario. To her, this story seemed like Yasu had suffered from intense neglect. She remembered a girl back from her school days whose parents did not show much interest in her as well. They never appeared to meetings or stage plays, and she often got in trouble for not having her homework done or tests signed. The relationship and the child's mental state lost stability, but she at least had friends to get her through. What did not seem to be the case with the bluehead. The captive's gaze traveled over his skinny body. If the surrounding he had grown up in was how she imagined it, his childhood might carry the reason for his silent and reserved attitude. And to get him end up in the mafia, probably a lot of even worse things happened.

However, she herself had to make the recollection that there was a day where the gang member had been a mere innocent child. Like she herself had been, too. Maybe after all, we aren't that different...

But then her mind snapped back to the night where the boy had shot five men without as much as blinking. The weird, warm feeling in her chest got washed away.

She cleared her throat, having one last question linger on her heart before she wanted to dismiss the sensitive topic. "...Where are your parents now?"

Her vocals hovered in the air, and from one second to the other, Yasu's bright hues went dull. All light and focus left the aquamarine orbs, as if he had became a lifeless doll. He switched back to the screen. "Your turn"

"Is this really happening?"

The pair had spent the proceeding game in silence and attentiveness, and were both equally startled by the sudden voice booming from behind. They turned around to find Isamu, eyeing them with arched brows and a distorted grin. "I'd never thought that wretched girl could play something like chess " he scoffed. "But I guess it's thanks to Yasu, isn't it? That boy is doing way too much for you"

[y/n] knew that if she would answer now, something really reckless would jump out. So she pressed her lips together and drilled a glare into the tall man's orbs. However, the ravenhead did not appear all too bothered. "Come on" he nodded his head in the direction of the corridor, broad arms crossed in front of his chest. "There's something I want you to do"

An aching sensation nagged on his stomach as the female got up to follow the intruder. Yasu watched her disappearing down the hallway, and with each step she took, the displeasure grow in intensity. His fingers traced his lips, his eyes burnt into the adult's back. Why could he just walk in and take [y/n] away from him?

The captive warily followed Isamu into the wide training hall. While she let her gaze stroll across the room, gliding above the shining vitrines and the gleaming weapons inside, the ravenhead had approached a certain locker next to the shooting stand. With a tiny key that emerged from his pockets, he fiddled open the lock and took out a flat leather box. Tenderly, he placed it on the counter and waved her over. She suspiciously glanced around his back. The black casket was flat, too flat to hold a gun. His long, slender fingers slowly lifted the lid: A selection of thin knives, in curved forms and different sizes came to view, the pointy tips reflecting the light like little diamonds. "Throwing knives" she aspirated.

Isamu scrutinized her from above. "Have you ever held one of these before?"

She silently shook her head, not taking her focus off the elegant and rare arms. One of them suddenly left its place on the velvet and was held in front of her. Hesitantly, she closed her fist around the short shaft. It was unexpectedly light. Her grip tightened as the man placed his hands on her shoulders, gingerly pushing her around the counter. He held one of the knives himself, and widened his stance- With a swift back swing, the tool flew through the air. And stayed stuck in the distant bull's eye.

The whole act went so fast and smoothly, the female could not even quite follow his motion. But all he did was throwing her a challenging smirk, enjoying the expression of pure perplexity on her face and the secret admiration in her eyes.

"Yeah, sure" [y/n] groaned with sarcasm, acting like she was rather interested in the dirt on her socks. "If you expect me to-"

"I do"

Her gaze darted up to glower at him, but the ravenhead had already vanished from her field of vision. A second later, a solid body pressed against hers from behind. Isamu pulled on her elbows and the clothing on her waits. The captive's first urge was to make clear that he could simply tell her what to do, instead of touching her in several places, but the breath that stayed stuck in her windpipe prevented her from forming the words. And her lungs only became heavier when he eventually slid his arm along hers, intertwining his fingers into her hand which held the weapon. The girl now was in the same posture she had seen on him before. His head was leveled with hers as he aimed at the circle. "Loosen your fingers" he whispered. She did as told, but instead of taking the tool, he did not retreat his hold. Her hand and the throwing knife rested in his palm. "Relax your shoulders." he tenderly pressed down on the mentioned place, "The movement comes simply and only from your wrist. Imagine a straight line running from the knife's tip to your target"

She did her best to follow his advice, figuring he wanted her to copy his action perfectly. But with having the daunting man standing so close, her mind was unable to imagine anything at all. However, she let Isamu guide her arm- She gasped as her wrist snapped forward, and the weapon's weight disappeared between her fingers. In the time she wasted with a surprised blink, the blade had already punctured the circle's middle.

[y/n] gaped at her empty palm.

"Now, try it alone" he forced a second gleaming killing- device in to her palm. But instead of getting in stance, the captive just silently gazed at the cold metal.

"Isamu..." Her hesitant glance briefly flung up to him. "Why am I even supposed to learn this?" She tilted her head. "It's not because... Because Katsuro forced me to join, is it?"

With a pounding heart, the [h/c] haired individual waited for an answer. If her assumption turned out to be verified, she would find herself in even much deeper trouble than she already was: It meant that she had just started a kind of apprenticeship. A kind that allowed Katsuro to deploy her for his business. She twisted the knife in her hand. Was she supposed to use it... to kill someone someday? Would the target eventually be replaced by someone's chest? Her guts became heavy by the thought of ending someone's life under the blond's command.

"Hey"

The man's sharp tone snapped her attention back to him. His dark eyes were narrowed to slits. And he suddenly stood way closer than the moment before. "You are one of us now, wretched girl" his finger thundered against her decollete. "And that means you have to do what we do, think what we think, and can what we can"

"And what about knowing what you know?"

Isamu's orbs widened in bafflement, only to grow even thinner. Despite of having his gaze filled with huffishness, his mouth stayed closed. By the cutting silence that engulfed the both of them, the girl knew she had poked a weak spot. There were still so many unanswered questions whirling up her subconsciousness- Especially this certain "trade" that was supposed to take place soon nagged on her nerves. In order to protect the little rest of her sanity, she desisted from paying further mind to it. Nonetheless, something deep inside of her told her that she would play an essential role in that dubious matter. But why should they go through the stress of training her, when they planed to get rid of her anyway? Or was she just being paranoid and had completely misinterpreted that certain conversation?

The ravenhead audibly pressed an exhale through his nostrils and rose his angular chin. "Step by step, wretched girl. We don't wanna overburden that little brain of yours"

[y/n] cheeks started to glow with furry, but there was no chance to throw a countering remark as the tall man picked up the next knife. He flipped it a few times in his hand, gracefully catching it mid- air. The normally dangerous movement looked so smooth and harmless in his performance, appearing simple enough to be copied by a child. A shiver shook her from her astonished state when she sensed a pair of eyes resting on her. Her brows shot upwards as she realized that the male did not even watch the blade, but had his attention on her instead.

"When you can do what I can, I promise I'll tell you everything you wish to know"

With those words- and his anthracite hues still connected to her [e/c] ones- the weapon darted through the hall and confidently pierced the small black small circle.

The captive gaped at the target for a whole minute, and could still not believe that what she had just witnessed wasn't a prank of her cognitive ability. Slowly, she eventually turned back to Isamu with big shimmering orbs. He slyly smiled at her. But the girl was far from being amused. Quiet the opposite; She was terrified. She could not grasp that the man in front of her had just hit such a distant object with such accuracy. Without even looking at it. When he was able to execute an action as lethal as that from this range, what was he capable of within the vicinity he had to her? [y/n]'s feet cautiously began to carry her backwards. Her fight- or- flight- system screamed at her to leave the area as fast as possible. But she knew how one should not run from an aggressive predator- It caused them to hunt after you. She stood in hand- range of a person that was able to terminate her existence any second, and she would only have a chance if she was faster than his knives. Or bullets.

At first, the ravenhead enjoyed the expression of amazement and admiration on the shorter individual's tender face. But when it started to dissolve into pure horror, an unsettling tickling ran through his torso. All the more as she began to back away, her frightened eyes glued to him like a fly to a spider web. Something like regret crawled through his interior as he found himself being the cause for the girl's withdrawal. The warmth her form had set to his own faded with every step she took. The sensation of her smaller frame in his embrace, so fragile and defenseless, had reminded him what he did this all for. It was to protect, and not to intimidate.

The man huffed. "What, are you afraid now?"

She bit her lip at the teasing tone. His gaze stayed cold, yet the right corner of his mouth curled upward.

"Isamu..." she eyed him with an contemplating gaze. "Just how long... How long have you been doing these things? You aren't that old, are you?"

The female had figured that, even though the male had a tall and toned body and sometimes appeared with a dark shadow of fatigue, his eyes and skin still gave away the vital radiance of a young adult. What he had shown her, whether it was the shooting or knife- throwing, took years over years to be conducted in such perfection. Means: The man must have started his own lessons at a very, very young age. An age where she used to fool around in the garden and build forts with the orphans living next to her grandparents.

"What things?" His voice had a warning undertone, giving away he was aware of what the lass was hitting at.

She shifted on her feet. "You know, the shooting and stuff. It's really impressive. You must have trained a lot to become this good"

He stared at her, his face as plain and unbreakable as the metal in his hand. The terms she used to describe his skills made him wary of her inquiry. But what alarmed him even more was the impact they had on his heart rate.

Isamu shrugged his shoulders. "You' re right. I've been taught to handle a gun as soon as I could walk"

Thursday, 20th July, 16:59

The tender rain faded away, and the veil of gray encasing the buildings began to lift. Rays of sunshine broke through the dark clouds, were reflected by the wet roof tops and covered the city in a golden shimmer.

The view from the giant panoramic windows was truly breathtaking. Every day at every hour, the scenery changed, and each moment was just as stunning as the passing. Having his office located in the 59th of sixty floors, Katsuro enjoyed miles and miles of sight across the metropolis.

While his leader silently gazed at the tiny streets below, Isamu had hijacked the black leather couch, originally provided for guests that waited for the blond's attendance. Much to the displeasure of his boss, the ravenhead laid full length on the expensive pollsters and used his combat knife to erase the dried blood underneath his nails, flipping it through the fashionably furnished room.

The hesitant knock on the door barely grasped their attention.

"State your name and business" Katsuro called out, without even turning around.

"It's Miss Eastwood. I have your reports, Sir"

After earning the permission, a beautiful young lady stepped in. Honey colored orbs sparkled up to her now attentive employer, a delicate smile on her full, heart- shaped lips. In her arms, she held a pile of documents, pressing them against her breast- The blouse she wore was at least one size too small; the buttons on the chest area in danger of snapping. Her tight pencil skirt showed up enough of the long, slender legs that ended in elegant pumps that now strutted closer. As she bowed, chestnut long hair flowed down her shoulders. Her neckline offered the men an inviting glimpse on her rosy underwear.

Katsuro greeted her emergence with a content expression. Paris Eastwood was an informant from the United States, and with her always up- to- date knowledge she was not only an important associate, but also an always welcomed guest. With her looks and courtly behavior, she als had an additional use as escort at public presentations.

The couple acknowledged each other with a soft handshake and fluttering a kiss on the cheeks. The blond guided his visitor to a seat in front of his desk, not without shooting his disinterested partner on the sofa a demanding glare. "I hope you had a pleasant flight, Paris?" he asked politely after falling in his cushioned office chair.

"Thanks to your preparations, of course" The addressed woman shyly twirled a brown strand around her finger. No matter how good she played her part, she couldn't help but lose some of her abounding confidence around the handsome man. Paris placed down the files on the surface, obligingly spreading and sorting them to give a quick overview. After exchanging some courtesies and flirtatious glances, they eventually started the business talk.