She's standing in the alleyway, hands behind her back, looking up at the nighttime sky.
There are no stars visible; the glare of the neon lights coming from the city are far too bright. Half-shrouded in darkness, the girl seems completely ordinary and yet, there is a quietly menacing way she holds herself that makes even him give her a second once-over.
Well, that and the large instrument case by her feet.
"So you're my contact?" Her voice is calm, faintly interested. Her eyes glitter in the dark.
He acknowledges her query with a slight nod of his chin. He doesn't answer her directly; let the client initiate the conversation, Mojito used to say.
"I have a body for you." She says, patting the black surface. "Young lady, red-head. Probably sixteen or seventeen. Healthy. Well, for now." The girl doesn't smile; rather, her eyes crinkle with amusement. An eerie light dances in the blackest reaches of her eyes.
He raises an eyebrow. "Tranquilized?"
"Yes." The girl says efficiently. Good. He likes things clean and simple. "Just a simple twelve-hour injection."
"Interesting." He rumbles. "Well, I'll take this off your hands."
He snaps his fingers. Roya and Hijikata slink out of the shadows and promptly lift the case lid open. Curled up inside, in the fetal position, is the red-head. Huh. She's a pink, bright little thing. Polka-dotted stockings and all. Pity.
"Can you leave the case? I'll need it for the next time." The girl points, and the two burly men look down at her with some incredulousness. They glance at him, their cigarettes trailing thin plumes of disbelief behind them.
"Do it." He says calmly, flicking open his own lighter. "We can take the back alley; out of sight."
They obey instantly, unfolding the unconscious girl from her cramped prison and sliding the case back with their feet. The girl draws it back the remaining distance, snapping the fasteners closed.
"Well, pleasure doing business with you." He inhales smoke and relaxes. "If you have another pair of stockings to deliver, you know the number."
"Yes." She does a little bow. "I will be sure to contact you. Good night, sir."
He grunts in response, and turns to board the van, which Moro has driven up to the curb. As he climbs into shotgun, he catches sight of the girl watching him leave, her strange, cold eyes fixed on them as they drive away.
As they turn into the street, the blinker clicking quietly, Roya speaks up. "Boss, I think that chick's crazy."
"Not quite right upstairs." Hijikata agrees, shaking his head.
"No, she isn't." He replies with a small, sharp smile. He takes the cigarette from his lips and exhales slowly. "She is definitely an interesting, interesting young lady."
They spend the rest of the ride in silence, the only sounds being that of the van's growling engine, the rattle of the frame, and eventually, the muffled sounds of terror from the polka-dotted girl.