I made this on a spur of the moment…I hope you all enjoy it. This was revised last on 5/02/2012.
Disclaimer: Per usual, this story was written for amusement, and not for profit.
~ Chapter One: In which a young man makes his decision to rob a bank, attempts, and fails. ~
7:30 am...Main Street of Domino City...
Atticus waited in traffic Wednesday morning and listened to the honking horns. He was not in a good mood now having been up most of the night working. Because his lack of sleep, he turned on the radio in an attempt to drown out the angry drivers but that didn't work out so well. Can't these people see that we're going nowhere? Atticus asked himself.
He was answered by a particular loud honk from the car behind him.
Atticus had then asked himself why he was in this predicament. He could have been at his home instead of being stick in the middle of a herd of loud cars. Then, an image of his father's face materialized in his head. It reminded him of his purpose and so, Atticus took a deep breath as he endured the ongoing torture of the crowded city.
Inhale…
Exhale…
Inhale…
Exhale…
He calmed himself with the breathing exercise. He was now in perfect Zen mode…He was one with nature…Peace, tranquility…Nothing could disturb him now.
Another driver suddenly honked again and Atticus jumped. His eyes snapped wide open and he turned the glare at car behind him. He was boiling mad now. He wanted to rolled down the window and angrily shout at the driver. However, someone had beaten him to the punch and began shouting a string of profanities at both Atticus and the driver of the black Mustang, utilizing every foul word in the English language. This only resulted in more honking from the other drivers.
Afterwards, Atticus rolled up his window and groaned. He let his head fall on the wheel and hit the horn. He didn't bother to move it as the blaring noise continued.
7:45 am...Twenty minutes from Domino Train Station...
A tired, blue haired man leaned his forehead against the cold windowpane, slumping a little as the train pulled out of the station. His bloodshot eyes stared back at him through the foggy glass; he was paler than usual, but that was nothing new since his work was becoming more and more stressful. Straightening up in the seat, his red eyes drifted to the leather briefcase perched on the top shelf. He detested that briefcase and its contents. Inside were countless tasks and a mountain of paperwork that needed to be completed before the week was over; it was frustrating. He barely had a life as it is…no thanks to his father. Pushing back fallen strands of his dark blue hair and sighing in defeat, he turned bleakly back out the window, to wait out the long journey home.
He may not look it right now, but he was Truesdale Zane, the CEO of Truesdale Transportation Services. After inheriting the business at the young age of seventeen, when his father's decided he needed a break, he had been forced to live up to the standards of a hardworking, dedicated company executive—albeit one without any sort of social life whatsoever. It should have been his mother's suffering this torture, but Truesdale Nina disappeared after that fatal night, and Zane has only seen her twice since then. Not that he minded in the least; it was two times too many considering she deserted Zane and his younger brother.
Now, several years later, Zane has recently celebrated his 24th birthday (a glass of champagne and a short toast) and he's the richest man in the city. Alone, true, but still rich.
Hah. Like he gave a damn.
The vibration of his phone sent waves through his coat pocket, startling him from his thoughts. He fingered the flap thoughtfully, pursing his lips before answering the phone.
"Truesdale Zane,"
"Zane, we have a problem. Axel-san just fired three people from the Finance Department. They were supposedly siphoning cash from several project budgets while tweaking with the financial statements."
The young CEO rubbed his temples to ease the oncoming headache.
"So you are telling me we just fired three people and let them go with our stolen profits? That's just perfect. Do me a favor and bring them up on charges. We can't just let them go like that…and find me some replacements ASAP. Post flyers, put ads in the papers, do whatever it takes—just get me some people. Once you do that, notify me about the appointments. I'm going to screen these people myself. You got that?"
"Yes, I'll start immediately. Do you need anything else?"
Zane considered for a moment. "Yes, schedule the appointments later on in the week. Starting tomorrow, I won't be in for a few days. I need a break, or else I swear I'm going to break down if I don't get some sleep."
There was a chuckle from the other end. "Understood,"
"Thanks, Yusuke." Zane closed his phone shut. His headache seemed to intensify from the news he received. Anything else like that and he might just go crazy. Zane sighed and returned to gazing out the window. It would be about another hour before he made it back to his office.
8:05 am...Outside of Domino Train Station...
The train pulled to a halting stop as it reached the station. The poor braking made the young CEO hit his head on the window, his eyes opening blearily to the bright blue sky. Glancing at his watch, he grabbed his briefcase from the top shelf and peeked out of the compartment. Everyone was filing out, dragging their huge bags and suitcases; he scowled. He hated waiting, and it was evident that he'd have to sit for a good while more before he could get off the train without getting squished between bulky luggage and bags. Sighing, he decided to wait before his headache caused him to pass out and sat back down. After about fifteen minutes, the train was empty except a few older passengers. Zane took his briefcase with a huff once more and headed for the open doors.
As he reached the exit, Zane caught sight of a young woman sleeping soundly in one of the seats; her wavy brown hair was concealed by a pink and black hat. A dribble of drool trailed the corner of her slightly open mouth. Zane contemplated on whether to wake her up before leaving. His groaning muscles and persistent headache answered for him; besides, the brunette looked comfortable where she was.
He continued to walk briskly to the station entrance, hoping to catch a passing taxi. As luck would have it, there was a taxi already waiting when he got there; Zane's mood lifted slightly. Maybe his day would not be a total wreck after all. He thanked the heavens silently as he made it to car. The driver rolled down his window as he approached.
"Are you Truesdale Zane?" the man asked. Zane grunted before pointing to a huge billboard with his face plastered on it.
"Does that answer your question?" he snapped. His response wasn't intended to be harsh, but bloodshot eyes, a fatigue-ridden body, and a growling stomach could make anyone angry.
Surprisingly, the driver was not fazed. He was a middle-aged man who seemed to have dealt with all kinds of people and was content with his job. His brown hat leaned to the side as he took a swift of his cigarette and turned around.
"Yeah, I was just making sure because I'm here to pick you up. I got a call from someone named Fujiwara Yusuke."
"Humph," Zane opened the door, tossing his bag in the seat. He couldn't figure out why Yusuke didn't send him his limo instead. But of course there were other things that Yusuke had to take of.
He closed the door and the driver was about to pull off when he heard a commotion outside. A young woman was pushing past people with her bags and running to a taxi—to his taxi, to be specific. Zane gave the girl a long look before realizing that it was the same one he saw sleeping on the train.
The brunette dropped her bags on the pavement alongside the taxi. She looked quite winded, her face flushed from running, as she searched in his bag for something. She eventually found what she was looking for and held it through the window to the driver. The driver read it silently before turning to his passenger in the backseat.
"This young girl here needs to get to the other side of town before midnight. She was wondering if she could share the fare with you. So what should I tell her?"
"Tell her…" Zane looked over the brunette, taking in her ruffled clothes and sweaty, panting face. "Fine."
When the driver nodded to the young girl still standing outside, she smiled. He watched the girl heave her baggage into the taxi's trunk before sliding into the backseat, still grinning from ear to ear at the driver. She didn't say a word though. This angered Zane somewhat, who had been brought up under the impression that everyone must be treated with courtesy, no matter the social standing. On hindsight though, his anger could be blamed on his broody mood.
The ride was a quiet one; except for the driver's occasional cough and the whoosh of passing cars, there was no sound inside the car. Zane was finally beginning to relax, knowing that in a few minutes he would be at his office, but something about the girl next to him nagged at his brain. He supposed it was because she didn't talk, but he wasn't quite sure. The brunette sat very still, her brown eyes focused out the window for the past fifteen minutes, her face devoid of any emotion. It was a sharp contrast to the grin she had sported when she climbed in. It was pretty unnerving. Zane cleared his throat before asking a question, suddenly feeling the silence become oppressive.
"Are you new to this part of town?" The brunette turned to him, her eyes boring into Zane's face before nodding.
"You know…you shouldn't be sleeping in trains. You can get robbed that way." The young girl seemed to consider his words before shrugging and turning back to the window.
"Humph. Then get robbed," Zane said tersely, agitated by the other passenger's rudeness. The girl said nothing in response.
Shortly after, they arrived at a middle-class apartment complex. The girl pulled out her wallet and gave the driver half of the fare before exiting the car. On her way out, Zane saw the wallet slip out of the other's pocket and drop onto the car seat. He quickly stepped out of the car as the brunette retrieved her items from the trunk.
"You dropped this," The girl made a face before reaching for her wallet. Zane pulled it back, just out of reach.
"Not until you tell me your name. I haven't heard you say one thing." The girl glared and attempted to reach for her wallet again. Zane pulled it out of reach again, and she frowned.
"Just tell me. I'll tell you mine…I am Truesdale Zane," The girl stepped back for a minute and stared. Her face was unreadable but her brown eyes were glazed over with…what? Disappointment? Sadness? Anger? Something wasn't right, but she nodded and held out her hand in agreement just the same. Zane placed the wallet in her palm as she waited for a response.
There was none, just the rustle of the trees.
The girl picked up her bags and started walking up to the apartment building, leaving a confused CEO. Zane quickly followed her into the building.
"Alright, fine. I can understand if you won't tell me your name or anything. But is it too much to ask to hear you say 'thank you'?" The brunette glared at him as if she wanted to say something, but held out her hand instead. A handshake of apology, Zane supposed; he pushed the hand away.
"Don't tell me you're a mute or something," He said mockingly, his lips turned into a smirk.
Her eyes changed to a dusky brown before setting her lips to a firm line. Zane noticed the quick change in the atmosphere and studied her reaction. The girl seemed offended but before he could define what happened, a tan hand grabbed the silver doorknob and opened the door. She gave Zane one last glance before closing the door in his face. Zane stood there confused and unaware before walking back out to the taxi.
Did I say something wrong?
8:35 am...Truesdale Transportation Services, Zane's office...
Zane reached his office not long after, not bothering to look at the small roll of bills he threw at the taxi driver as he stepped out. He loosened his tie before getting a light meal. He found some white rice and vegetable stir fry in the mini fridge left by his personal team of cooks. Zane heated himself up a plate of food and grabbed a glass of wine before walking to his study, seriously considering giving his kitchen staff a raise. He really wasn't paying them enough for their dedication and flawless service.
He plopped down in his large leather chair, preferring to enjoy his meal there. Zane felt so comfortable in the room for some reason; maybe it was the silence, which he craved more than anything. As he finished his plate, his thoughts strayed back to the brunette in the taxi. He still didn't know why the girl refused to say anything to him…and then slam a door in his face.
But why should he care? It's not like he would ever see her again.
After taking another sip of his wine, Zane turned to face the city in his chair. It was here that he noticed Atticus from running across the street, and into the building. Atticus had started working last month, being late most of the time. Clearly, Atticus hated his job, and hadn't pictured himself as a janitor at age twenty-two. He was young, and firing him could be his ticket to a new and much more exciting life style. Maybe then he would settle down and perhaps meet a nice girl.
Zane suddenly reached for his cell-phone, and quickly dialed a number.
"Yes, sir?" a male's voice asked from the other side.
"Axel, there's something I need you to do for me…"
8:50 am...Truesdale Transportation Services, Floor 1…
After finding a parking space Atticus barreled down the hall, still trying to get his tie on, secretaries and random office members stepped casually aside—some not even looking up as they got out of his way. He did this morning sprint daily, and you learned quickly when to stay out of his way. Swinging around the corner, he managed to secure his uniform's zipper and tried, rather unsuccessfully, to straighten his sleeves. Every day and he still had failed to realize you cannot straighten a uniform while running.
I'm almost there...Atticus couldn't help but smile as he reached the nearest elevator, ready to start working before anyone noticed.
As soon as he reached the elevator, however, he bumped into someone. Still on his feet, Atticus he tumbled backwards, and then glanced at the person who nearly knocked him down. The man had dark skin; his hair was in an Egyptian style, and wore a black business suit and shoes.
He looked directly at Atticus. "Just the person I wanted to see," he motioned for the empty meeting just to left of their current location, receiving a confused looked from Atticus return. "Come with me. We need to have a little talk."
9:02 am...Conference Room A...
"What? He's firing me?"
Axel shrugged his shoulders. "I wouldn't put it that way. Think of it as…Well, we have to let you go—think of it as being laid off."
"Laid off?" Atticus said. He crumpled the paper envelope in his hand and slammed his hands onto the table. With his face full of rage, Atticus shouted, "Who's going to take care of this place now? Who's going to clean the dirt in every corner of this damn building? Tell me who!"
Axel shrugged. "Whoever replaces you…You don't need a degree to be cleaning toilets you know."
"Come on!" Atticus pleaded. He stepped forward and grabbed Axel's shoulders. "I need this job! I have bills to pay after all!"
Axel pried the hysteric Atticus off of him. "Sorry. I can't do anything about it, but I wish there was something that I could do."
"No, you don't," Atticus replied. "You don't need to lie to me."
Axel shrugged his shoulders again. "Whatever gets me through the day," he said as he waved his hand and began walking away. "See you around Atticus…Or not," he added with a tiny smirk.
Atticus clenched his fist. He saw a potted plant at his side and kicked it with his shoe, knocking it over and spilling all the dirt to the floor. A nearby security guard spotted him and threw him out of the building. Atticus fell to the asphalt, and then looked up and glared at the doors that slammed shut.
"Fine, get rid of me!" Atticus shouted angrily. "Let's see if you can find someone else to clean up your damn messes!"
Atticus stuffed his hands into his pockets and strolled down the city street. This was unreal. He couldn't believe that he lost his job—he couldn't believe that his childhood friend had him fired. Several minutes later, he spotted some cops arresting a group of masked men. One of the men pulled out a gun and aimed it at the first cop. However, a police dog swiftly appeared and bit down on the man's arm, forcing him to drop the weapon. The gun fell to the ground, forgotten near a storm drain while the cops loaded the masked men into the police cars. Soon they left the scene, leaving no trace behind except for the forgotten gun. Atticus took a step forward, debating whether he should pick up the dangerous weapon or not.
Should I…? Atticus asked himself. He looked behind him and spotted a bank. Turning back to the gun, Atticus made his decision. Well, what do I have to lose? My life's already down the drain.
9:30 am…Inside of Domino National Bank…
Cursing so much that she needs a mouth rinse-a-day, Yuki Janelle just wanted nothing more than for her essentially normal and boring life to change. Or so she thinks. Perhaps being normal is good.
Currently, Janelle stood in line at the bank. Nearly thirty minutes had passed since she entered the rather crowed building. She let out loud sigh, attracting attention of those who thought her rude, but she could care less about their scolding faces. She impatiently glanced at the red wall clock. Peevishly tapping her right foot, she leered at the people who stood in front of her. If only they weren't there, then she would be able to quickly make a withdrawal and race to the nearest coffee shop and get a little of caffeine into her system. It was officially her first day of being off on her on, and so far, things weren't going as planned.
She decided to distract herself by focusing on something else. From the corner of her eye, she spotted a hanging mirror, checking her appearance. Janelle wore a white baseball cap with a pink rim and Hapkido insignia on the front. Hanging over the back of the cap was her long brown hair that she kept tied into a bouncy ponytail but it was practically down her back. Janelle also wore a sleeveless black vest with a white t-shirt without sleeves underneath it. She also wore a pair of blue cut-off denim shorts and last but certainly not least were her knee length black Converse sneakers that had pink laces.
She glanced at herself in the mirror a little longer, looking at her blue shorts in particular. Too short? She turned to the other side. Nah…
Another fifteen minutes passed and Janelle had but one person in front of her. She couldn't believe it. She was just one person away from the counter—hopefully this will take less than ten minutes, she told herself—from her beloved caffeine.
"Everyone get on the floor, now!"
Heads turned towards the voice, and there appeared a rather short man in a mask and janitor outfit. He then began shouting at them in an attempt to frightening the people around him. Upon closer inspection, one could see that he was armed. Once the people realized this, everyone got down.
Damn it! Janelle silently cursed as she quietly kneeled down along with everyone else. And, I was just so close, too... she said to herself. She snuck a peek out of the corner of her eye and saw him.
He strolled over to the whimpering receptionist and lifted the barrel of the gun in front of her face just centimeters away from her sweaty forehead. Janelle heard him order the woman to give him money, but she couldn't make out what was said due to the frightened cries of the receptionist.
After what seemed to be an eternity, the woman finally pulled out large handfuls of cash and stuffed them into a backpack as the masked man ordered. He let out a satisfied grunt before walking away. The man held the gun in front of him, alert for any sudden movements. Janelle watched his movements carefully. Once his back was turned away from her, she stuck out of her leg and tripped the masked man, sending him sprawling to the floor. From here, Janelle jumped on him, pinning him to the floor. He wrestled against her as he tried to keep a hold onto his bag.
"Get off me!" he yelled as he jammed his elbow into Janelle's face, knocking the girl off of him and accidently letting out of the bag. He moved to stand, but saw several of the civilians charging towards him, ready to take matters into their own hands. Panicking, he grabbed the nearest person. "Back off or I'll…I'll shoot!" he yelled.
Everyone stopped and watched Janelle struggled in her captor's arms. She then froze when she felt the cold barrel on the side of her head. "Start walking!" she heard him say. Janelle reluctantly took a step forward and stopped. Her captor prodded her with the gun and she was forced to move.
Janelle made her way out of the bank and down the street with her captor. She spotted a man opening his car door with a coffee mug in his hand. Janelle was about to call for help, but someone prevented her from doing so.
"Get out of the car and give me the keys!"
The stunned man jumped, dropping his coffee on the ground. When the gunman approached him with the weapon in hand, he quickly handled over the car keys before running away.
Janelle was pushed into driver seat of the tan Malibu. She tried to get out, but she was pushed back down. She turned to the passenger seat and saw the gun pointing at her.
"Drive," he ordered. "I'll tell you where to go."
Janelle did as she was told. She started up the car and raced down the street, obediently following all his directions. Janelle's heart raced and she floored the pedal, shooting the car forward.
"Just what the hell are you doing?" yelled the man next to her. "You just ran a red light!"
"There is a gun pointed at my head!" she complained. "Give me a damn break!"
"And you're about to hit that old woman!"
Janelle swerved to the right, barely missing the old lady with her can as she slowly made her way across the street. The lady turned around and glared before she flicked the pair off.
Temporary forgetting her predicament, Janelle leered at the old woman in the rear mirror. "Cranky old bat."
"Hey! Respect your elders!" Then the man took off his mask, revealing his chocolate brown hair. "This thing is just too hot…"
Janelle tried turning her head to get a better look at him.
"Keep your eyes on the road!" he shouted.
Flinching, Janelle and jerked her head away. She continued down the road while she heard him rummaging through some things.
"Crap!"
"What now?" Janelle asked, slightly annoyed. "Did I hit your imaginary grandmother?"
"I don't have the money!" He yelled, remembering how he lost the backpack in the brawl with Janelle. He turned his head and glared at her.
Janelle made a semi-innocent face. "Well, it's not entirely my fault. I was only performing a noble act of courage."
"Shut it!"
Somewhere in the middle of nowhere, there was a tiny house hidden up in the mountains. Inside that cabin sat a tied up Janelle. Rough rope bounded her wrists behind her as she glared at her captor, Rhodes Atticus. "How long are you going to keep me here?" she demanded.
"As long as I need to," Atticus answered while sitting in the chair opposite of hers. "It won't be long, I promise."
Janelle gritted her teeth. "Screw you!"
Atticus looked at her. "You… you are a very angry little girl," he said.
"Of course I'm angry. And you…" she struggled to think of a good comeback. "You're…You're just a stupid child!"
"I'm not a child! I'm probably even around your age!"
Janelle narrowed her eyes. "And yet your maturity level is centuries behind mine."
"You're the one who's being immature here!"
"No, you're the one who's immature enough to go and rob a bank! If you need money, go and get a damn job!" she snapped.
The look on Atticus' face darkened. "Not everyone has the easy life. Not everyone has the same opportunity as everyone else. Not all of us can get jobs here."
His words hit her like a ton of bricks, but she didn't let that show on her face. Instead she decided to turn her head and ignore the man in front of her. "Humph!" Janelle continued to look away, finding interest in the time-worn couch across the room.
Beginning to get fed up with her attitude, Atticus walked towards her and sat down next to her. He looked at her straight in the eye, but Janelle turned her head the other way.
"What's your name?" Atticus calmly asked, suppressing the urge to scream at the girl.
Janelle quickly shot a glare at him. "Why the hell would you care?"
"Well, what am I going to call you?"
Unwilling to answer, Janelle held her mouth shut tightly.
Atticus waited for patiently, carefully watching her face. "Okay, I'm going to have to name you than. Does Petunia sound okay?"
Janelle's eye twitched a little. Petunia…It was so, so feminine… "It's Janelle. Smartass…" she finally said.
"Okay, that's a start. I'm Atticus. It's nice to meet you."
"To bad I can't say the same here."
Atticus sighed. "I guess you're friendlier in the morning, huh?"
Janelle gritted her teeth. "Damn you!"
Atticus just sighed, and then he got up and moved over to the single vacant bed across the room. He climbed underneath the sheets, and turned off the lights. Rolling onto his side, he faced away from Janelle. Janelle saw this and glared at the boy, not liking how he was easily ignoring her. She did not want to be pushed aside like that.
"Please…Just let me go," she begged, feigning fear.
Atticus lazily rolled over to her and cracked at eye open. "Oh, please…As if I could fall for your pathetic acting skills."
Janelle huffed; her face turned red with anger. "You…You monster!"
Atticus shrugged. "You've called me worse."
Down to her last option, Janelle opened her mouth and let out a very high pitched scream. Atticus winced at the sound and inwardly hoped that the windows or his glasses would not shatter.
"There's no one out here! No one's going to hear you!" he tried shouting over her voice.
Janelle ignored him and continued to scream at the top of her lungs.
"You know, I hoping it get down to this," Atticus made his way over to Janelle and pulled out a roll of duct tape. He smiled as Janelle suddenly quieted down. Her eyes briefly widened in disbelief. "But…you leave me no choice." Atticus said, answering her unspoken question.
"Get away the hell from me!" Janelle shrieked. She kicked her feet up in an attempt to hit Atticus, but he grabbed both of her legs and taped them to the chair. "Stay away!" she continued to shout.
Finished with taping her legs, Atticus stood up and faced Janelle. "Sorry, but I you leave me no choice." He then gagged her, stuffing her mouth with a piece of cloth and taping it over with duct tape. "Now I can finally sleep in peace."
Atticus went back to his bed, ignoring Janelle's muffled cries. He pulled the covers up and rolled onto his side, away from his reluctant captive. All night long, Janelle glared daggers into Atticus' back, wishing that she could shoot deadly laser beams from her eyes and vaporize the brown haired man into smithereens.
TBC...
A/N: So that's the first chapter. I hope the characters weren't too OOC. Click the review button and tell me what you think. Oh, and for those wondering about my other stories, I'm in the middle of revising the older chapters, but I'll get back to them soon enough.
Thanks for taking the time to read.