July 2nd.
Every year around this time was the liveliest in Namimori.
It was the beginning of summer vacation. Children would run around the street, playing tags and celebrating the beginning of their long break while teens would set a time to hang out with each other...but this year was different.
Droplets of water fell from the clouds and soaked into the land.
The air was unnaturally humid and unwelcoming.
At the side of an empty street, there was a café where many went in to shelter themselves from the sky's change of mood.
"Welcome–" A waitress opened the door to greet, only to have her voice lost somewhere in the back of her throat. A tall man who looked about twenty-four, dressed in red changshan casually stepped in. The café had a calming atmosphere with strong air conditioner running to protect the customers from the humid heat.
A woman from the table to the far left waved her hand, but was pitifully ignored as two waitresses charged right pass her.
"I saw it first…!"
"No I did!"
The two waitresses hissed at each other as they fought to get in front of one another. Eyes were upon them, but the two girls were too busy to notice their shameful behaviour. Just when they were about to reach a particular table at the corner of the store, another waitress stepped into their views with a sticky note and pen ready in hands.
"H-How may I take your order?" Her voice nearly came out in a squeak as the blush upon her cheeks brightened. Her raven irises were fixed upon the hand that lifted the cup of espresso from the plate.
"I'll have a cup of oolong tea, thank you." The man in changshan spoke in fluent Japanese as he gently pushed the menu to the waitress with his delicate hand. The blush upon the waitress grew so dark that her face's colour rivalled the red changshan the man wore. She quickly bowed and reached for the menu, accidently brushing her finger against the man's slender ones.
"S-Sorry!" The waitress quickly apologized as she slowly gathered the menu into her arms.
"It's alright." The Chinese said with a soft smile. The waitress returned with a wide smile of her own before she quickly rushed around the counter, too deep in her fantasy to notice the glares she was receiving from her fellow workers.
A second later, a loud squeal ran through the store and startled many customers.
"Così rumoro (So noisy)." A deep voice spoke in Italian.
The Chinese man chuckled softly. "E' piuttosto movimentato qui (It's quite lively here)." He spoke in Italian that was just as fluent as the Japanese he spoke to the waitress. His eyes drifted across the store before resting upon his companion sitting directly from him.
"Cosi (So)?" The man clearly has no intention of speaking the language of the country they were in. It was a habit people with their professions developed naturally. By speaking in a foreign language, even if anyone was to overhear, no one would able to understand. The man tilted his homburg hat; taking a sip at his espresso before settling it back down onto the table. "Quanto ti fermerai questa volta, Fon (How long will you be staying this time, Fon)?" From beneath the shadow casted by his hat, a pair of metallic eyes flashed across the table. Fon said nothing as his gaze trailed to the window beside them. The sky had grown darker than before with the pattering sound of rain playing a gentle melody into his heart. His eyelids slide over his eyes. A calming smile made its way to his lips.
"Non lo so (I don't know)." Fon spoke after a while. His eyes fluttered up half way so that he can see the hit man before him. "L'hai trovato, Reborn (Did you find it, Reborn)?"
Reborn gave Fon a long, hard stare before pulling out a stack of documents and placed it onto the table. The martial artist stared at Reborn for a second before he slowly took the documents and put them safely away into his changshan.
"Here's your oolong tea!" A chirp broke through the intense atmosphere as Fon glanced up to find a different waitress this time. "Thank you," Fon thanked. The waitress smiled widely, then stood by them for another couple of seconds. When she realized how neither of the men was going to take anymore order, she reluctantly left, but not before giving another couple more glances.
"Questi documenti sono scaduti da una settimana. E' probabile che non possa più andare in Giappone (Those documents are out-dated by a week. There's a chance she might not be in Japan anymore)." Reborn said, but Fon only replied with one of his usual smile. He wrapped a hand over his fist and raised his arms to his chest.
Then, the martial art champion thanked the hit man in a language that was neither Italian nor Japanese.
"谢谢 (Thank you)."
It was his mother language.
Reborn stared as he watched Fon placed the bill for both of their drinks onto the table. Without touching the oolong tea he ordered, Fon pulled himself onto to his feet.
"Fon." Reborn's call stopped the man's movement.
"Non è la stessa bambina che hai preso tra le braccia nove anni fa (She's not the same kid you've picked up nine years ago)." Reborn stared at his espresso resting on the table before him. "Devi essere preparato per il peggiore dei casi. Se non hai la fermezza per ucciderla, morirai (You have to prepare yourself for the worst case scenario. If you don't have the resolution to kill her, you'll die)." Fon turned and allowed their raven irises to meet. After a long while of staring contest Fon slowly pulled his eyes back to the window where his reflection stood. Fon's gaze softened. It felt like only yesterday when he was still an infant from the Arcobaleno's curse.
"Please come again."
The waitress bowed as Fon stepped out of the café. A wave of heavy warmth engulfed his skin with large droplets of rain hitting against his shoulders like hail.
"What is…?" Fon's voice came out in a ghostly whisper as he stared at the torn furniture scattered around the hallway. His eyes rounded, his breath caught in his throat. Fon's large raven irises shrunk in horror upon the sight when he realized how unnaturally quiet it was.
"Shirahane*."
That was the first word that came to his mind as he suddenly made a sharp dash from room to room. But every room was the same. Some doors were torn off with furniture smashed into pieces and others with books scattered over the wooden floor.
"Shirahane!"
Fon called as he emerged into the bamboo forest that surrounded the dojo. His breath came out heavily in thick clouds as the freezing cold water pounded heavily against his head. "Shirahane!" He called out to that name repeatedly, but the only voice that answered him was the pattering sounds of rain.
"Shirahane…"
That name came out like a haunting whisper. Tearing his gaze from the gray sky, Fon began walking down the silent street.
"Oh dear…it's raining again." An old lady said as she looked up to the clouds with a deep sigh. A droplet of water dripped down from the sky and caressed the tip of her nose.
"Grandma, we should hurry and go back." The little boy held tighter on the old lady's hand and stared at the pond by his feet with a frown.
"You're right…" The old lady agreed as she pulled out an umbrella from her purse. Just when she was about to open it, a young man dashed out of the corner of the alley and his shoulder brutally smashed into the elder. "Oh!" The old lady gasped as she stumbled back. If not for her grandson, the old lady would surely have fallen over and crack a bone.
"Watch it you old hag!" The teen snapped as he rushed down the sidewalk. When the young man turned back to his path, he found his sight blocked by a large, lavender umbrella. "Hey, move it!" He shouted at the owner of the umbrella. The owner of the umbrella took a little sidestep to allow the rude offender through. Just when the teen was about to run pass the person, the lavender umbrella came slashing down and struck him right at the pressure point in the back of his neck.
With a silent scream, the teen tumbled and fell face first into the puddle of water clouded by mud. A gust of wind blew by as long streams of hair like snow fluttered weightlessly in the violent current. A pale hand reached into the teen's jacket and pulled out a fairly worn leather wallet.
"This is yours, isn't it?" A soft voice chimed as the old woman slowly turned.
"My wallet…!" She gasped as she hurriedly raised her tan, wrinkled hands. The slender pale ones gently reached down and placed the wallet into the old woman's grasp. "Oh…thank you. Thank you so much." The old lady thanked repeatedly, grateful to the stranger who had helped her.
"Thank you, miss!" The boy beside the old lady whispered shily. At that, a faint smile slide over the face that seemed to be craved from marble. In the stream of white, a petal of lotus fluttered gently.
"You should hurry back. A storm will be coming."
When another gust of wind slammed mercilessly against them, the colourless bangs were blown apart. A pair of eyes flashed within the dark afternoon sky, almost making the old lady believed to be two perfectly polished amethysts. With a last smile, the woman turned on her heel and began walking away. As she walked, her lavender umbrella fluttered open again and rested at her shoulder blade.
"Aren't you nice, extending a hand for the helpless old lady?"
A deep voice of a man's whispered just as the woman walked by a dark alley. She paused in her steps, but her eyes were focused at the empty road in front of her. After a couple seconds of silence, a smirk made its way to those rosy lips. "I just happened not to like that guy, that's all." The warm voice that had once spoken to the old lady was now nowhere to be heard. The voice the woman had used left a trickle of chill into the warmth of summer.
"Is that so?" The silhouette of the man crossed his arm as he leaned back against the wall of the alley. "Have you finished the job?" The woman reached into her kimono's sleeve and slowly pulled out a crumbled piece of paper. With a casual toss, the paper flew through the air and landed perfectly into the man's waiting palm. A rustling sound of paper could be heard as silence flowed between them. After he seemed to be finished, the man pulled out a lighter. With push of his thumb, a flicker of orange light began devouring the edge of the paper.
"Pack your things." The man said as he watched the flame grew upon the fuel it was given. "We're going back to Italy tonight."
"No." The woman quietly cut him off, still refusing to even spare him a glance. "You can go back and report to the boss. I want to stay here for a little longer."
"Why?" The man asked, not out of suspicion, but of curiosity. "Don't tell me you actually missed Japan." After the flame licked the last word off the blackened paper, the man released the edge he's been pinching on. The woman turned, catching the last flicker of flame before the ashes were washed away, cleansed by the heaven's tears.
Silently, the woman began walking away from the alley. Through the rain and howling wind, she could hear a soft sigh escaping her companion's lips.
"Don't blame me when the boss gets angry with you again, Shirahane."
Shirahane – White feather
Hello, I've hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. I've suddenly felt the urge to make a Fon series so...here it is~
Unfortunately, I don't plan to update this story any time soon. I mean, I like this story and it was fun writing it so I'll definitely work on this, but school's been killing me and my first priority right now is Dew of Time. I just felt kind of bad putting the story on hold so I thought it might be fun to throw this out so people will know what to expect from me next (and to prove the fact that I'm still alive...for now). Although I say all that, it's not like I won't update until Dew of Time comes to a finish. I'll still update this story, but it might be slower than usual (as though the usual ain't slow)...
Any ways, although it's still early, happy early winter break~!