Rewritten!
Sailor Moon is a product of Naoko Takeuchi.
Warning : Even though this story is listed under a Teen rating, it is a Mature creation consisting of language, adult situations, drug abuse, and controversial subjects. If you are uncomfortable with this than please refrain from reading further. You've been warned.
Requiem
"Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves."
-Confucius
Chapter One
Sympathy for the Devil
He sat at the coffee table, the blinking light from the television being his only visual aid, and looked over numerous files scattered haphazardly on its glass surface. Faces of men, women, and children alike stared lethargically up at their one man audience as countless pages paper clipped together into a Tolevsky inspired novel of information. A cigarette burned slowly against a simple plastic ashtray; a cup of black coffee sitting parallel to the dwindling cylindrical stick. This night, with the vague data that had been gathered within the passing week, was proving to be eternal. Sleep was the forbidden fruit in the desolate garden that was Darien Chiba's prison and he would sell the soul of his reincarnated self to taste its sweet nectar of release.
Sighing, the studious young man of twenty five removed well worn in spectacles from tired eyes and tossed it on the table after plucking a single manila folder away from its identical herd. This was the most recent assignment Rubeus had given him and it was expected to be taken care of within the next week. Darien's boss had never really been one for leniency considering he had always been partial to time rather than efficiency.
The mark looked to be the equivalent of the reluctant insomniac's age with dirty blonde hair and eyes the most translucent shade of blue. He was an extremist responsible for occurrences ranging from simple rallies to demonstrations ending in riots. The main purpose of his organization was to tear down corporate structures which threatened his goal – for Japan to achieve liberation from oppressing and corrupt opportunists who use all outlets, including politicians, to achieve domination over an already subordinate culture. He wanted to destroy classes, obliterating consumerism, so its people would be able to live happily and peacefully with one another. Since Rubeus' business was at the top of the activist's list of potential targets, it was self-explanatory why the tycoon wanted to nip this nuisance in the bud. The feat was easier said than done.
This guy may have done his fair share of stupid things but his intelligence and depth perception made up for brazen actions. He never stayed in one place for long, preferred to keep himself anonymously under the radar, and only socialized with his battalion. Darien always had the option of capturing one of his tree hugging friends and torturing them to the point of experiencing an insatiable agony by the mere mention of his name. But the professional knew better, after all they were just as extreme as the perp (if not more so) and laughed at anything revolving around a threat as meager as bodily harm.
Thin elongated fingers grasped the cigarette in its clutches and maneuvered the cancerous object between parted lips. Two weeks had passed and yet not only had he accumulated the least amount of leads among the previous charges but he also lacked a checkpoint, a haven where the do-gooder was consistently spotted at. Was he losing his touch? Exhaling excess smoke, Darien smirked at the irony. Losing his touch? What touch? This wasn't what he was meant for. This was only supposed to be temporary, a means to reach sufficient financial stability to pay for school and live comfortably as a man in a life of normalcy.
At thirteen, he was desperate for work and found good fortune in Rubeus' extended hand. There he was a scrawny little punk sleeping in the back alley of Japan's most coveted noodle house with an eighth grade education and nowhere to go. The offer of a warm bed to sleep in, a hot meal, and more money than he could dream of in his incapable idle hands was any street urchin's dream. Rubeus had never said forever; it was the one circumstance which kept the teenager interested.
He put out his cigarette a little rougher than necessary. His life had never been easy. The simplest time from his twenty five years of life came in the form of his four foot five inch seven year old brother. Having a six year age difference, much to the surprise of outside spectators, didn't ruin the relationship in the least bit. The two would always be found outside reveling in the fruits of their imagination by either engaging in a game of cops and robbers or staring up at the sky inspecting unusual shapes of clouds. Darien had loved his little brother more than anything and in retrospect; it was the only reason keeping him in that forsaken house. It had been twelve years exactly last week since he had last seen him alive and well.
Tossing his piece of literature back amongst his other accomplished missions, he leaned back against the marshmallow cushions and recalled his own personal cyst or, in politically correct terms, his mother. She was a beautiful woman. Darien remembered all the sleazy men in the neighborhood, married and single alike, who would approach and do or say anything to get next to her. He also remembered how those particular men would even sink to the diabolical level of trying to befriend his brother and him for their own personal gain. But Darien was hip to their game and immediately told them where to go. If only they knew what she was really like then he bet they'd change the beat of their drum rather quickly.
A shrill ring from his pants pocket jerked his subconscious directly from his reverie of the past. Frowning, Darien reached his hand in and burrowed for his mobile before flipping open its silver face and coolly responding, "Yeah?"
Sitting up, he snatched the discarded file back up in a motion which suggested he had just struck gold. With a brand new resolve and a higher octave in an otherwise aloof voice, Darien declared, "Gather up all the info you've got and I'll see you in a half hour."
Closing the phone back up before putting it securely in the confines of his jeans, the handsome agent jumped up from the couch, vital findings in hand, and put on his jacket which previously hung rejected from the edge of the loveseat. Finally, a change of pace; his go to man, Jadeite, a private investigator based in the Tokyo suburbs, had found a lead on his evasive little pest. It couldn't have come at a better time. Darien was starting to get tired of looking at the smug face of the asshole on his file. It was time to move on and look at the smug face of some other asshole.
"Where do you think you're going?"
He stopped dead in his tracks at the curvaceous figure of his boss's wife leaning against one of the walls encompassing his doorway. Emerald Del Grassi was a stunner without a doubt. Her long hair tumbled down in luscious waves, framing her face to give it a more angular appearance as her eye color did justice to her name and practically glowed inside its large almond packaging. She was dressed in her business attire which led Darien to believe she had come directly from work and therefore from the arms of her husband. Emerald knew she was desirable and capable of wrapping any man around her little finger. That knowledge was dangerous.
"I'm on my way out."
"Where to?" Emerald flirtatiously asked while sashaying up to Darien who stood statuesque. She stopped when the space between them became much too small even to allow a single strand of hair access.
"Work."
Keeping a suggestive smile, the vixen leaned closer, closing up the barely there gap, and whispered, "You have work to do here."
She crushed her perfectly glossed lips over his and moved in until her body was practically fused with his. In retaliation, he grabbed her hip with one hand while the other snaked up to undo the buttons of her jacket. This intrusion had proven to slightly irritating. Not anything too debilitating judging by his participation but enough to make him lock his door the next time.
She pushed him back and after removing her jacket completely from her body, resumed with her highly effective fondling. Emerald moaned when Darien nibbled on her ear and massaged her exposed breasts. He lowered her onto the couch before ripping his coat off and carelessly tossing it on the ground. Sinking downward, he unzipped her pencil skirt and lowered it; his lips continuing their voyage around her stomach to her hipbones and ending at the area where her waistband had been.
"Mmm…that feels so good, baby."
Darien shifted his weight and began to envelop Emerald's smaller body with his own. Trailing kisses along her defined collarbone, cobalt eyes elevated their gaze to his lover's face but widened in disbelief once they locked on the face of a woman whose appearance brought chills down his spine. He collapsed away from the stranger and shut his eyes. It was happening again. His heart was pounding, his palms sweating profusely, and breaths coming out shallow and delayed. The fury built from deep within his stomach due to his lack of control and suddenly he was on fire. It was burning him… burned … burned … broken.
"Darien? What the hell is wrong with you?"
The man who fell away from reality returned. He opened his eyes slowly and in turn repossessed the sight of his lost mistress, much to his relief. Exhaling sharply, he ran his hand through ebony locks. Darien continued to stare, refusing to waver his eyes in fear of another astral projection.
"Darien?!"
"What?"
"Tell me what just happened."
"Nothing. I have to go," Darien mumbled while getting himself together in preparation of making his much anticipated exit. Unfortunately, Emerald wasn't the type of woman who made rejecting her easy.
"I know what's wrong," she purred. The older woman got on her knees, placing her hands under his shirt to caress the tight muscles of his abs, and sensually brushed her lips against his ear, "You want a little TLC, too."
She pulled him back against her and grinned at how easy it was to make him succumb to her advances. Emerald knew he could definitely use a release, after all she had been craving one all day. Her lips grazed his neck, pleased to be taking the reins for once in their tryst, and inched her hand towards his belt. The tease felt him shiver against her causing the lopsided smirk to evolve into an amused smile.
She caressed his face, placing soft lips against a sweat glistened neck, and ran her hands through his soft hair. He could feel his body trying to reject the tension and ease into what his partner desired. Her hands trailed down his body and reached for the buckle of his pants. He froze in place; his mind too preoccupied to fight the tension any longer.
Emerald removed his shirt and moved her lips from his neck to his chest and down farther to the impressive cut of his hips. She flicked her tongue along to each protruding bone all the while unzipping his pants and freeing him from captivity. Her hands ran up and down his sides as her teeth playfully gripped along the band of his boxers. The adulteress always enjoyed being the one to please. Not only did it give her inner feminist a sense of utter accomplishment but the saying was right, lay a man right the first time and you can walk all over him forever.
She whispered sweet nothings and I love you into his ear as he clenched his fists and closed his eyes. She laced her fingers along his clenched hand coaxing him to relax while removing his pants skillfully with the other hand. She lapped up the sweat which rained down on tan skin with a thirsty tongue. He closed his eyes tighter as her hand, which was responsible for stripping away his pants, fell on his underwear.
Darien was yanked on the couch while Emerald, wasting no time, straddled him and began to grind herself against his crotch with ease. Her temperature was beginning to rise and it only boiled over when she heard a small hiss escape unintentionally from parted lips. Elegant fingers re-latched themselves on the jungle of coal and enjoyed the smooth, soft texture of each strand. Leering down with hooded eyes, Emerald passionately kissed him and stripped him of his boxers.
"Don't be afraid. Just think of this as a way of proving my love to you," she whispered. Her hot breath caused the tiny hairs on the back of his neck to erect. Gooseflesh formed on his entire body once his underwear was discarded and she climbed on top of him. Leaning down, eyes the color of a tempestuous storm, she pressed her lips back against his ear, "Remember, Darien, your mama loves you."
He recoiled and pushed the woman just beginning to rock up a steady rhythm off of him. The devil in him ignited into existence and was unconcerned with leaving a bruised, both physically and emotionally, Emerald high and dry. He hurriedly put on his boxers, followed up by his pants, but once he got to his shirt the furious fiend roughly grabbed his arm.
"What the fuck is your problem?"
"Get out of my way," Darien calmly commanded. His eyes darkened considerably when leering own at his womanly road block. He continued to burn and instinctively his hands curled up into a fist. The haunted entrepreneur would never strike a woman but with the feelings of loathing coursing through his veins, he wasn't so sure what he was capable of anymore.
"Not until you tell me what's wrong with you! God, sometimes, you can't get enough of me and others you can't even look at me. Why can't you fuck me and enjoy it?"
"Because you disgust me," Darien screamed in her face. It was a little harsher and definitely an octave higher than he intended but he wanted her gone even if it meant forever. Darien was starting to get tired of dancing on eggshells, deceiving the man who helped him through his troubled youth, just to have sex with a woman he felt nothing for. It was time to move forward.
"I disgust you?" Emerald sneered as she landed a couple of punches on his bare chest. Shoving him back, she pointed a finger and continued her tirade, "Don't think you're so much better than I am because the last time I checked, you knew I was married. If anyone is disgusted, it's me of you. There's something wrong with you! You're sick in the head. You need help, you fucking fruit loop!"
He finished putting on his shirt, ignoring the hysterics, and grabbed his jacket after slipping on his shoes. Any man would fear ending it with a woman of her stature but he knew the situation too well to let it shake him. Chances are if Emerald did in fact tell Rubeus of his betrayal, she would in fact get her revenge but not at the expense of her own life. Her husband had a murderous temper and if he ever found out about their affair, he would kill them both.
He started for the door but was intercepted by the sobbing woman who contradicted a previous display of scorn. Hanging from his lithe figure, Emerald forced her mouth on his in a gesture which begged for reciprocation. The object of her desire only froze in place, lips closed, and eyes glaring down at her pathetic state. She never felt more undesirable in her life and that realization only served to peak her anger. Pulling away, Emerald reached her hand back and swung an open palm across Darien's cheek as hard as she could, "Bastard!"
He kept his gaze geared to the side it was forced to face. He wanted to tear her apart but instead settled for jumping forward and gathering her much smaller hands into a firm grip. She screamed as Darien put his hand roughly over her mouth to muffle her pleas. Dangerously close to fulfilling his desire of dismemberment, he eased his lips to her ear and hissed, "You're pathetic, Emerald. Get out and never come back. If I ever see you outside of work again, the next time Rubeus sees you will be on the side of a milk carton."
Pushing her away, he continued the task that should have been long since accomplished twenty minutes ago.
"Darien, wait! I love you!"
Before walking out and slamming the door behind him, Darien spat, "Go back home to your husband."
She let out a scream and collapsed on the ground. Sobbing, Emerald put her face in her hands and cursed the man for his impetuous decision to dump her. Nobody had ever dumped her, for she was usually the one who did the heart breaking. Was it true? Was karma finally coming back on her?
Scoffing, the dejected mistress looked back up and sneered at the door her lover had just walked out of. Nobody dumps Emerald DelGrassi and lives to revel in her misfortune.
"You'll pay for this, Darien Chiba. Mark my words."
I bet she'll try and make me pay.
Darien smiled as he pulled out a package of cigarettes, pulling a long slender stick from its contents. She can try but she'll fail, just as fruitlessly as usual. Emerald always got what she wanted. She was a spoiled little princess whose vocabulary flourished with every word imaginable except the essential, character building "no." Darien was more than happy to have used this opportunity to have taught it to her.
He extended a finger and hit the down button on the elevator panel. This had been quite a day. He wouldn't lie. It felt liberating to have this one nagging weight off his shoulders. It was fun while it lasted but as the saying went, "Life goes on." With whatever bit of conscience Darien possessed in his neural hemispheres, it did bug him to dog the one person who had given him a chance in making his life more than sex, drugs, and violence. Granted, Rubeus had provided a life of violence (sex his own personal addition) it was still a privileged one. For a good three years, a bad taste had grown in his mouth like a fungus. It was great to finally find the remedy to alleviate it.
At the soft bing of the elevator, Darien entered the confined shaft and hit the button signifying the first floor. As the door closed, he procured a lighter, blazing to life his cigarette, and leaned back against the wall. The contract killer wondered what Jadeite had found out about the target. He had been on the activist's tail for the past two weeks and all he could do was dig up trivial information on his past. It was easy to crack into files and computers for verification but at a certain point he seemed to have vanished off the face of the planet. No credit records or proof of address. If it wasn't for Rubeus' confirmation, he would have assumed the mark had already been dead.
Exhaling, Darien whispered, "You better not let me down, Jadeite."
Taking another drag, he glanced over to his side and noticed a huge poster of Japan's hottest rock group, The Three Lights, taking up the proximity of one of the four walls. They had just made it into mainstream but the noise and stir they were responsible for caused them to appear as though they had been a sensation for years. The band consisted of Yaten Saito on drums, Taiki Kochi on lead guitar, and Seiya Kou on vocals and guitar. The three musicians were young and looked to be no older than twenty four.
Yaten Saito stood confidently to the left with a grin on his face and a pair of drumsticks in his hands. He appeared to be the eldest and, by the way he conducted himself, the most mature. His wheat blonde hair was carelessly tussled as eyes the color of steel stared back at the average onlooker tauntingly as if he knew something they didn't. Taiki Kochi, a direct antithesis of the drummer, had his mouth wide open as though he had been screaming bloody murder on the set. His noodle like leg was kicked up and his arm was looped around their singer. Taiki's crimson hair matched his outrageous personality perfectly while dazzling emerald eyes stared seductively at any potential female admirers. A beautiful, and without a doubt expensive, Gibson guitar provided leverage to the energetic guitarist as it sat by his side looking pretty for the camera.
Even though Yaten and Taiki were interesting characters to analyze, twilight eyes stared studiously at the most laidback member of the band, Seiya Kou. The man was breathtaking with flawless beige skin and black hair which shone like a halo of coal under the thousand watt bulbs of the photo shoot. Black dress pants hung well on narrow hips as his torso lacked mass yet still managed to remain looking defined. He was obviously the youngest of the trio possessing a baby face, but nonetheless still managing to keep a cool which projected experience beyond his years. Seiya was the perfect package but the one trait which really kept Darien mesmerized was chocolate eyes full of danger and passion. Although to the naked eye he looked rebellious and full of life, the observer noticed something dark, chilling, and almost menacing. His frown deepened.
"Excuse me, sir, are you getting off?"
Darien distracted his attention from the photo and focused on two older women with impatient looks on their heavily made up faces standing at the metal dividing line of the elevator. They scrutinized him as though he was nothing more than data under a microscope. Sighing, he motioned for them to enter before sliding past to duo successfully.
"And another thing, you shouldn't be smoking in a public area. That's very rude for…"
The ranting was cut off by Darien hitting a random floor. Smirking and waving with a cigarette dangling from his lips, the double doors closed on his two angry looking pests. He rubbed his hands together and made his way out of the revolving doors of the complex.
The next drag he took felt like a religious experience.
"That was an awesome concert. You did it again, man!"
Seiya Kou entered the room with a lopsided grin on his chiseled face. Practically everyone associated with the concert was there, including some close friends and groupies. He shook his manager's hand before being bombarded with congratulatory back slaps and hair ruffling. Keeping the proud smirk on his face, the rock star opened the cooler, pulled a beer from its frigid interior, and flopped back on the couch with groupies and two of the five roadies.
"How does it feel to have a flawless tour, kid?" Mr. Uchiyamada, the Lights' manager, asked after knocking back the rest of his own beer.
Sean Uchiyamada was slight man with bleached blonde hair and penetrating black eyes. Even though he was in his thirties, the band manager was handsome with a carefree personality that left women swooning. At five foot seven inches, the Starlights, including stand-ins and roadies alike, towered over him yet couldn't get as many high quality women as he was known for gravitating. It was a wonder that kept the band and its cavalry pondering and laughing.
"I'll tell you in another two months," Seiya responded while looping an arm along the shoulders of the sexy red head sitting beside him.
"You're too modest, kid. If it wasn't for some of the broads you convince to come home with you, I wouldn't believe for a second you were a rock star."
The red head blushed while snuggling in closer to the warm and firm body of her soon to be lover. She moved her long locks away from her chest as an ulterior motive to show Seiya her goods. Twisting her pouty lips into a smirk, she noticed his dark eyes trailing up and down her body. They continued north past her shapely legs up to her thighs before making a sharp turn onto curvaceous hips. Enjoying the sights on foreign land, his eyes continued their voyage through a smooth and firm stomach but prolonged the trip once they fell upon the curve of her ivory breasts. It was all he needed to see to be convinced.
Seiya leaned forward and whispered something into the siren's ear. She giggled and nodded her head almost instantly causing the rebel to grab onto her hand before pulling her up with him. Dark eyes shifted to the left and focused on Yaten who stared disapprovingly at his choice. His look seemed to heed to an impending danger.
"C'mon, babe, let's go find somewhere a little more private," he declared but deceiving the severity of his comment by keeping his eyes solely on his disappointed bandmate, "Sayonara. I'll see you assholes at sound check."
"Yeah, yeah, I see how it is. Hoes before bros, huh?" Sean exclaimed while sizing up his goldmine's choice.
Shaking his hand and smiling at the wink followed up by an enthusiastic two thumbs up, Seiya was prepared to leave until Yaten grabbed his arm and stated, "We need to talk."
"Can't it wait until tomorrow? I'm in the process of entertaining someone."
Yaten, hand still gripping the younger man's arm, looked at Raggedy Ann with a sour look and darkly asked, "You don't mind entertaining yourself for a bit, do you, honey? I'm sure you're very capable."
She shook her head which inspired a sarcastic smile from the drummer. Opening the door, he dragged Seiya out of the room, which began to reek of beer and pot, and led him down the hall near the entrance of the stage. As he let his comrade go, Yaten stood in front of him and folded his arms across his chest. He didn't know where to begin or why he had even bothered to isolate him in the first place. It wasn't as if he would listen. Seiya never listened to anyone and that was a bigger flaw than fucking some groupie pig.
"What do you want?"
"Do you ever think before you do anything, Seiya? Do you ever consider what your actions would do to yourself and the people around you? Why do you always have to be running at a thousand miles per second? You should stop for a second and relax."
"Why do you always have to ask me so many pointless questions?" Seiya retorted while instinctively raising his defenses. He felt like a child in a rapidly shrinking box of a world. He was tired of being constrained. He was tired of being subordinate. It was time to break free and fly away.
"I'm asking you these things for your own good, man! Please, if you listen and let one thing I say for the rest of our friendship stick let it be this: Fuck Uchiyamada and his expectations. Don't let that stain run and eventually ruin your life. Everything he's telling you to be is a lie, okay? There are so many people who get into this profession and don't make it out alive because they lose themselves along the way. Don't sacrifice yourself for fame."
"How can I sacrifice myself for fame? I don't even know who I am," he shouted. Throwing his arms up in the air, he pointed up to the sky and proclaimed, "There's nothing out there for me, Yaten. Nothing! There's no God, there's no family, no nothing! I've got nothing! I'm nothing without this. Fame is who I am and if I ever stop, I'd rather be dead. No, if I stop, I am dead."
"Don't be stupid," Yaten contradicted with a stern expression on his normally stoic face, "Fame is ruining you. You're running yourself into a hole and you're so far deep in your own shit you don't even realize it. You've got me. You've got Taiki. And you've got Mina. How can you even go and screw that trash when you've got a girl like that waiting for you back home?"
Propelling himself forward, Seiya grabbed the smaller of the bickering duo by the collar and slammed him up against the nearest wall. Seething, eyes possessing within them an unspeakable darkness, he leaned forward and hissed, "Don't! Don't say a damn word or even mention her, understand?"
Yaten shoved the six foot madman away from him and situated himself before cruelly exclaiming, "What the hell is wrong with you? Are you sick or something? I didn't mention this before because I thought I was just overreacting when I noticed your moods shifting but with that display, I knew I was right. You need to stop touring, go home to your girl, and clear your head."
"I don't need to go home. I'm fine."
"Your depression is getting worse and you're not making things better by scoring. I won't do a tour with you so messed up. We can postpone the tour and Taiki and I can wait until you're ready to go."
Seiya sneered. He clenched his fist and spat, "Are you deaf? I said I was fine! I'm going to finish up this tour with or without you because if you haven't already noticed, you're a shadow that can easily be replaced."
"Fuck you, Seiya. Either you go and tell Uchiyamada that you're taking a break from touring or I go and take Taiki with me. You might be able to go on sans a 'shadow' but I doubt you can make it another two months with half the band missing. It's your call, kid."
-
Seiya stared up at the ceiling and trailed the faintest crack in its ivory surface to and from the core. The moon, soft and shining, extended its silver coated embrace onto the earth lovingly as the cool gust of wind blew the transparent curtains of the hotel room back to ravage its two inhabitants. The room was pitch black except for the meager light which crept through the crack of the door.
His chocolate eyes remained unblinking as they stared at the dead air space. He wasn't quite sure why he stared at the ceiling in particular but Seiya was pretty sure it had something to do with avoiding the slip up of looking at the girl laying sound asleep beside him. It wasn't as if this was the first time he indulged himself when he was on the road, after all sleeping around on a tour was a golden rule among the elite, especially rock stars. Seiya, never one to break tradition, did this without reservation but every time the release came so did the feeling of loneliness, and loathing. Looking at the one night stand, no matter how attractive they were, was no longer and option.
Sighing, he snatched up the packet of cigarettes sitting on his nightstand, pulled out a smoke, and lit up. Touring had honestly started to become tedious, whether the city was exotic or not, but he would never submit to Yaten's demand. Seiya Kou would not respond to ultimatums and that's exactly what he had told the blonde idol during their altercation exactly two weeks ago. Obviously, that hadn't worked out according to plans since he was stuck in Shinjuku sleeping with some whore who recognized him at the local coffee shop. Yaten had gone home to his wife and baby and Taiki had retreated to Okinawa for some serious downtime leaving Seiya, who was supposed to go back to Osaka and visit his girlfriend, to fend for himself.
Mr. Uchiyamada had uncharacteristically understood stating he wanted the band healthy and in the right mind set when they began touring again. His concern didn't necessarily fall in Seiya's favor even though he tried to reassure the band that it was. The manager deducted that an insane lead singer would not only attract bad press but would also lower record sales. Plus, it didn't help his faith realizing great bands in the past had previously been destroyed by a neurotic lead singer. He instantly gave the three official leave but under the condition that they returned ready to tour again in a month.
Seiya inhaled sharply as smoke from his previous drag escaped from his nostrils. That man had truly made him a work of fiction. The great rock star Kou was a product worthy of pride and affection. On print, Seiya was a rebellious yet happy young man from a hard working middle class family who became famous to pursue a dream and give his family an easier life. What a load of crap that was.
The real Seiya was constantly rejected and eventually ended up in an orphanage where his caretakers would neglect and abuse him until he couldn't take it anymore. At fifteen, broken and alone, he ran away figuring that since he already knew first hand how cold the world could be, he would be able to survive it alone. Things had started off well enough at first considering he had stolen a sufficient amount of yen from one of the superiors to get him going, but once Seiya arrived in Shibuya he found it difficult to find a job. Nobody wanted to take the risk of accepting an underage boy especially in case the cops happened to be after him and finding an apartment was an even harder task. Soon, his money ran out and he resorted to desperate means to keep himself alive.
The truth was obviously a little too taboo and could possibly hurt sales, so Mr. Uchiyamada packed the truth away and gave birth to the black and white lie otherwise known as a normal childhood. The lie had sounded so good, he started to actually believe all those horrible memories were nightmares he had had as a child. Seiya ignored the constant feeling of deja-vu every time they threatened to spill. He even sweetened the deal by telling everyone around him, whether they were close to him or not, that whatever was in print was in fact the truth. The only person who never seemed to fully believe him was his girlfriend, Mina.
Mina Murphy, a descendant of a half-Irish, half-Japanese bloodline, was the youngest and hottest Japanese idol out there today. The lovely actress was a huge fan of the Three Starlights and the singer had met her at one of their concerts. As soon as Seiya saw her, he became instantly enamored and asked for her number. The two began dating shortly after and his attraction had turned into affection and the affection soon into love. Mina possessed all the characteristics he didn't have and never encountered in another human being. She was the first person who had cared and shown genuine concern for him. She was innocent, beautiful, and selfless. Even though he slept around with countless nameless faces, he pledged that she was the only one he has or will ever truly love.
Pulling back the covers, Seiya firmly kept his cigarette between his lips and grabbed discarded boxers. He had lost weight due to depression from idle days. Even though he still had minor shape in his upper body, the definitions in his muscles were slowly beginning to fade leaving behind the image he was expected to portray. He was supposed to be in Osaka with Mina but he couldn't bear to face her or the countless questions she was sure to ask. He just wanted to be alone and made that request clear by turning off his cell phone. Seiya Kou had disappeared off the face of the planet. At least that was what he wanted the outside world to believe.
He scratched his head and yawned rather poignantly while making his way out of the room and into the den of the suite. The room was gorgeous making it well worth the money he spent on it. The hardware floors glimmered under the soft fluorescent lights and the furniture scattered throughout was constructed of impeccably high class material. Crystal figurines adorned the bare ledges as newspapers and magazines, both past and current, remained neatly stacked by the door in a small yet tidy rack. Big picturesque windows covered the back walls and a balcony with a French door separating the room from the world remained on to the left promising a view like no other.
Even though Seiya had his own modest apartment downtown, he never showed anyone where he lived making this hotel the perfect place for a tryst. Not only was it exquisite and enough to take a woman's mind off his aversion of showing her his residence but a lot of high profile celebrities also stayed here. With the urge to keep their top clientele, it made the curators very careful who they chose to divulge information to. After all his needs were met, the VIP would pay, tip the manager very handsomely, and go home until he would U-turn and repeat the process with yet another nameless body.
He removed the cigarette from his lips and looked over the table in the center of the room. Scattered over the surface was a small box cutter, some packets, and two or three lines of thin white powder which hadn't been snorted yet. Jane Doe and he had done a couple of lines before they moved their acrobatic act into the bedroom. Ever since Seiya was a teenager, he turned to drugs to give him the push he needed to do something he didn't originally want to do. It was mandatory, almost like a routine. With every girl he brought home, he would get his gear and go to town whether the girl indulged as well or not. Right now, he wasn't really expected to do anything but Seiya really needed a hit.
Sitting on the couch, he crushed out his smoke on the table unconcerned with the aesthetic debasement. Seiya stretched, grabbed the rolled up twenty on the side, and hovered it among the left overs. This is what he was; just another statistic. He sharply snorted the powder and winced as it burned his nostrils. Quickly, he placed his fingers over his nose, clogging up his air supply, and made sure to cease a desired sneeze. Almost instantly after removing his fingers, he leaned back and reveled in the feeling of euphoria.
Serena Tsukino painted another stroke on the wall as blue pigment dripped from the brush onto the floor. She had been working on a mural for the Hinos for two weeks now and the consistency was beginning to become a little too tedious for her liking. Slightly sticking out her tongue, the blonde backed away from her work and momentarily studied the design. It was almost complete and had a Roy Liechtenstein appeal to it with vibrant colors and a story line resembling classic pulp comics. Obviously pleased, she smiled and dropped the brush back into a beat up looking water can.
She stretched and released a drawn out yawn. Raye Hino had been Serena's friend since grade school yet the two have clashed more times than anyone could count. Raye was passionate, beautiful, with a meticulous attention to detail and a broad list of goals to accomplish. Serena on the other hand was careless and impetuous with only one goal – to leave Japan and attend Julliard in America. Painting was a hobby but the piano was her life. Julliard was the one reason, besides upping the cool factor of one of the most traditional looking temples in Tokyo, that Raye and her grandfather had commissioned the young artist to paint a mural in one of its many rooms.
Scratching the back of her neck, Serena picked up her watch which kept her purse company and checked the time. Eyes, the color of the deepest, bluest ocean, widened in surprise before she tossed it back over to the chair and, at warp speed, cleaned up her supplies right along with the mess she made. She could kick herself for ignoring the time. It was already one o'clock in the morning. How could she have let that much time pass without realizing it sooner? She better live up that short fifteen minute walk home because when she got there, her parents were going to kill her. Sighing, the petite teenager continued to neatly package her things quick and efficiently.
Raye and her grandfather were already in bed. The two woke up every morning at four in order to pray before she had to go to school, so every night they would be asleep at around nine or ten. The priestess rarely bothered her friend when she worked which made it reasonable why Serena didn't see for herself how fast time was moving. After jotting a quick note and pinning in to the wall by the telephone, she grabbed her purse, watch, and messenger bag with all her supplies and quietly left the property.
It was freezing out. The weather had been fluctuating drastically lately. Serena had walked comfortably to the temple in a basic t-shirt and jeans but now was in desperate need of another layer. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a long sleeved button down dress shirt used for painting and put it on without further debate. It wasn't exactly tre-chic considering it was twice the size of her body and had paint stains the size of Russia on it but then again, who would see her? It was almost two o'clock in the morning on a Wednesday night. So unless you were in the heart of Tokyo, which she wasn't, you weren't going to run into a soul.
She continued her walk after closing and locking the gates back up. Since Andrew couldn't make it by her house yesterday, he was supposed to visit at the end of the week and this time she prayed he would keep his promise. Every time he would call, he would swear up and down to stop by but every time, without fail, she would be waiting by the door for hours to welcome a no show. He would call days later and profusely apologize for his irresponsibility saying he got wrapped up in one of his obligations. As days turned into weeks and weeks into months, Serena just stopped waiting and automatically assumed Andrew was going to flake out again. Hopefully, he would prove her cynicism wrong on Saturday and for once, keep his word.
In exactly four hours she was supposed to be up and ready for school. She couldn't wait to graduate and pack her bags for America where she would be able to choose an afternoon schedule for school. An afternoon schedule; it was enough to make her eyes and mouth water with desire. Sleep was the one thing she cherished above food and yet, ironically, was the one thing lacking in her claustrophobic schedule.
Serena yawned. With all her attention being put into Raye's mural and the handsome compensation she was promised for it, she barely had any time to practice piano. Plus, to add to insult to injury, she had a session with Diamond tomorrow. Diamond DelGrassi was a twenty eight year old Julliard graduate who returned to Tokyo for two reasons. One, to help shape the future of aspiring musicians so they also could follow down the same golden brick road to Julliard, and two, to assist his older brother, Rubeus, with the family business. Serena had been studying with Diamond for five years and got along famously with him. She saw the pianist as a friend before a teacher.
Blinding walking down the barely illuminated street, she was shouldered which in turn caused her bag to fall and paint supplies to scatter all over the pavement. Letting out a small yell of frustration, Serena looked over to her left where, much to her surprise, her much taller assailant continued to walk ignorantly by. Seeing red at his lack of concern, she shouted, "Watch where the hell you're going, asshole!"
His broad back was still turned towards her meager figure and the red soon became so vibrant, she could barely see. Ignoring the mess of assorted paints, the firecracker took a step forward and screamed, "Weren't you taught any manners, jerk! Hey, I'm talking to you," before removing one of her size six shoes and chucking it as hard as she could at the back of his bead. She froze, both physically and internally, once she noticed him finally stop and turn around with a ferocious look on his face.
If it wasn't for the circumstance, he wasn't such a bad looking guy. He looked to have been approximately six feet, if not taller, with hair so dark it appeared blue under the dim streetlights. His frame seemed to have minor muscular definition but nonetheless he looked lean and athletically built under his slightly baggy attire. The usual tan pigment of his skin was tinted a rosy shade obviously signifying the immense anger he was trying to control.
"Gomennasai," Serena declared before half bowing and hightailing it out of that very incriminating and possibly dangerous situation.
The frigid wind whipped at her face as she made a sharp left around the corner. She couldn't help but laugh at the look on that jerk's face; it served him right for ignoring someone in need. He was probably one of those rich snobs that never got spanked in his life. He probably just ran around breaking things and talking to anyone as he pleased. So she wasn't wrong in doing what she did. This was just what a spoiled brat like him needed to see the light. She may have lost one of her shoes to such an unworthy individual but she gained some perspective. The menace continued to laugh heartedly.
But as her giggles subsided, a thought suddenly hit home.
She had ran for three blocks when she realized that she had left her bag with all her paints and brushes back at the scene of the crime. Braking hard, Serena smacked her hand on her forehead and muttered, "Shit!"
Darien rubbed the back of his head in spite as he distastefully watched the young blonde girl who dared attack him run off. Gaining his composure, he bent over and curiously picked up a small sneaker lying by his foot. Quirking a single brow, his eyes traveled over to the many rejected objects sprawled along the concrete. A grinch like smirk spread across his face as he moved closer to his golden ticket. One brat's trash is another man's treasure. Picking up a single tube of high quality paint, Darien estimated its worth and thought up all the people who would be interested in buying it from him.
He grabbed the discarded messenger bag and started shoving all the equipment in its snug contents. This particular prowler wasn't necessarily a thief. He convinced himself that he was just a teacher teaching a very hot headed no named pupil the value of an attention span. Zipping up, Darien hoisted the bag over his shoulder and continued his journey. Not only would he get a lovely paycheck from Rubeus when Jadeite filled him in on his mark's whereabouts but he would make a little over three hundred dollars on the side. Out there was a large, scrumptious lobster dinner with Darien Chiba's name on it.
Walking farther down the block, Darien put one of his hands in his pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper with an address scribbled on it. If his sense of direction was accurate today, Jadeite's loft should be another block. Lately, his days had been filled with nothing but luck. First, Rubeus had given him an account which could have the contract killer living in luxurious sloth until his thirtieth birthday. Then he finally got Emerald out of his hair and now not only would Darien cash in on his opus but he also had some leverage wrapped up in a lovely revenge package thanks to his little blonde nuisance. Life was good.
Crossing the street, Darien glanced down at his paper and proceeded to make a right where he ended up parallel to his final destination. He always wondered why Jadeite chose to conduct business in the suburbs when his type of work would thrive in a bustling city. It wasn't after minor pondering that he realized the logic of residing in such a reclusive section. Divulging valuable and private information to an undesirable source was bound to attract attention from dangerous spectators.
Taking the stunted staircase two steps at a time, Darien raised a fist and knocked rhythmically at the door. It took a few minutes before the guest finally heard a muffled voice demanding authorization. Leaning closer to the surface, he replied in a rather sultry voice, "I don't know, baby, who do you want me to be tonight?"
He smirked at the sound of locks snapping and chains being dislodged. After a few seconds, Jadeite D'aubigne, a thin, beautiful man of five foot eleven, opened the door and leaned up against it with an amused expression on his aristocratic face. Jadeite was the creation of an army general and a lovely, well to do waitress from Normandy. Though his father constantly relocated, sometimes overseas, Jadeite was an army brat raised solely as a French product due to a specified request by the general's wife. Corsica, Normandy, and Paris were among the French cities he has experienced and eventually, due to their constant regularity, grew tired of. At seventeen, he informed his parents of his wishes to depart French soil, much to his mother's dismay, and made Japan his new home.
"Inviting me in or is the purpose of our little meeting better served outdoors?"
"That all depends on whether you're bored of our routine and crave a little excitement. Than we'll talk the great outdoors, lover," Jadeite countered, his soft sea green eyes gazing down at Darien's smug expression as full lips twist upwards into a rival smirk.
The taller of the duo stepped up and pushed his way past the instigator. Stopping short and pointing a finger, Darien declared, "You better watch your attitude or you can forget the handcuffs."
He chuckled before shutting the door and locking up once again. Darien had been aware of Jadeite's homosexuality since the beginning yet still remained unbridled with his suggestive commentary. This type of harmless flirtation had been in constant rotation since they had first met nine years ago. At first, the handsome French man had wanted nothing more than to dismiss the youngster, deeming him too abrasive to deal with. He still remembered how their reluctant pact began. Jadeite was twenty and had just opened up shop when a young Darien Chiba came knocking. The boy was sixteen; a mysterious, cold, and short tempered street urchin who was too skinny to be healthy. The jaded youth had truly come a far ways from the aloof punk that he was, even though at times, especially during moments of involving emotional discourse or angst, he was known to completely shut down and re-adapt bad habits.
"So what do you have for me today?" Darien asked, a cigarette dangling from his lips, while removing his two firearms from its holster, unloading the clips onto his comrade's extended palm, and placing the remaining contents on an empty desk by the dining room entrance. Jadeite had always been particular about weapons especially when they entered the vicinity of his home. Even though Darien felt uncomfortable without his guns, he had always respected that golden rule without asking questions.
"Your man was hard to find," Jadeite began as he led his guest through the dining room and into his office, "He might as well be officially pronounced dead on file, a ghost. The name Rubeus gave you was even a fake."
"Tricky bastard."
"Tricky doesn't even come close to describing it; he was so hell bent on remaining incognito that he went to the extent of eliminating any records he could get his hands on. Then, I realized something when I came across this article on the net. More than a decade ago there was an institution in Kyoto which to the public revealed itself to be a normal pharmaceutical company but underground, a testing facility. I know you might think that's normal considering drugs have to be thoroughly investigated and tested before being shipped into public markets. These guys were different though because instead of animals or adults, they tested on children."
Jadeite threw down a large packet of papers before sitting down at his computer and booting it up. Watched as his pupil approached the desk, dropping his own bit of information, and carefully examine the load of information being presented, "So, with that said, enter a poor family from Okinawa who was approached and offered an opportunity of unlimited security in exchange for temporary ownership of their oldest son. Obviously, they instantly agreed, and signed the papers granting them permission to take him. What the family didn't know and failed to ask was what they were going to do with him; their mind was a little too preoccupied with immersing themselves in the many things all those dollar signs would provide them with. In 1992, after one year in the facility, the boy went missing. And you know what an even bigger doosy is? Rubeus is reportedly linked to funding this very illegal operation. The feds don't have any real evidence proving it but there's much speculation; one reporter even had the balls to state this in an article."
"If this kid is really our man, makes sense why he's so hell bent on bringing Rubeus down."
"Well, with further research, I discovered this kid went missing until 1996 where they found him loitering around in Osaka. There were no further articles until about four years later when he reappeared in the papers, but this time in the obituaries section," Jadeite declared, swiveling the computer around to face Darien, "On February 16, 2002, the vehicle of one Alex Yuri, then 18, was found wrecked and torched on the side of a major highway just outside of Shibuya, where the family relocated to. Cops called it a suicide when the kid's medical records emerged. Apparently, Yuri had been in and out of hospitals due to severe chemical imbalances, without a doubt brought about by the experiments he underwent when he was younger, and was diagnosed with severe depression. Eventually, the case was closed and his file was put on the backburner. There's only one problem with this; they never discovered a body or any of its remains."
Darien looked up from the computer and focused his attention on a pair of breathtakingly bright eyes. Appearing a bit skeptical, he asked, "How do you know for sure this is who I'm looking for?"
"Because I ran into his very illegal plastic surgeon in this high profile Shinjuku bar a week ago and had a little chat with him. I knew this guy from when I first started up my business; he's not only the man the Yakuza employed to meet their needs but also the only person I know of in Tokyo who offers this type of flawlessly conducted option. Anyway, he said he ran into a case three years back, a young kid came into the very same bar, told him he heard that he was the man to go to, and asked to have his identity completely erased and reconstructed. When my guy told him that it wouldn't be cheap, the kid procured a rarity – one large duffel bag full of cash. He was convinced and went through with the procedure. This, my friend, was the final product."
Tempestuous eyes stared at the computer screen as the fair skinned blonde unlocked the folder and brought to life a photo of "Andrew Crown" age 25, born in Kyoto on December 29, 1981. Wild, shaggy bleached blonde hair matched almost impeccably with light green eyes and relatively fair skin. A small scar, to what Darien believed was simulated to further authenticate the illusion, adorned his brow and reached the top of his left eye. Jadeite's source truly did an amazing job. If it wasn't personally addressed, he would have never guessed that this Andrew Crown was once Alex Yuri.
"Now, there's only one problem. Once those finishing touches were made, Crown practically vanished so my informant lacks further information. He, as you may know, doesn't have any solid records, chances are he relies on the help of the followers in his sanction when it comes to living, medical arrangements and so forth," Jadeite declared as he procured one of file from the confines of his drawer with a smirk, "But luckily for us, he's very much human and made a little mistake. Tsukino Aslan was born on July 4, 2005 to Serena Tsukino and Andrew Crown at Memoriam Hospital in downtown Tokyo. Apparently, the girl's father is big in the medical field, a world class surgeon, and kept the file under wraps to save his daughter from public scandal."
"So if the file was sealed, how did you get your hands on it?"
"As you may remember, I have a cousin here in Japan. When I came here from France, my aunt allowed me to live in her home until I got situated. I ended up staying there for about a year, so we became close. I got a call from her yesterday and during our phone conversation, she informed me that it had been a friend's son's birthday. She talked about the gathering for a while until a familiar name popped up. She said how 'Andrew' was a dead beat father, that he never did anything for his kid or the mother. When I asked about him, she said she didn't know much about him and had never actually seen him before. I took that as a lead and fortunately, women, particularly nurses, love a sensitive man in search of a long lost brother with charm, good looks, and a French accent."
Darien shook his head, a rare million watt smile stretching across his narrow face, and exclaimed, "You're a fucking genius."
"You should've known that much since the beginning," Jadeite smugly proclaimed. He pointed down at the file and continued, "That's all the information you need to know about the girl and her family. Chances are if you get in with them, you're bound to run into Crown."
Darien reached down, gripped the folder, and scooped it up to take a better look at its contents. Opening the primary manila flap, a petite girl of no more than eighteen appeared playing with an infant. Her hair, so blonde it appeared silver, was pinned back in a tasseled bun as large baby blue eyes twinkled in pride of the little boy flying high in his mother's hands. The viewer almost laughed once realization dawned, "I know this girl. This bitch threw her shoe at me..."
"What?"
"Nothing. The important thing is I have the perfect alibi to get me into her house," the blue eyed deviant replied, thinking back to his coveted bag of paints, before turning to the next page. As his eyes beheld the sight of an older woman, his breath caught in his throat and chills caused an epidemic of goose bumps to infect patches of smooth, taut skin. She may have technically been a victim of time continuity, but Irene Tsukino was a gorgeous, jovial woman. A shiny raven halo cascaded down her shoulders in loose curls as flawless ivory skin contrasted against the dark impeccably. Irene's was quite a sight to behold but her eyes were what really caused men and women alike to stop dead in their tracks. Possessing the color of the blues tangled within vivid oranges and pinks of a sun set, her eyes were practically submerged in eternal depth. She had her eyes.
Darien closed the file shut and almost crumbled it within his fists. His anger began to boil over and he could feel the slight tremble racking his insides with dread and disgust. He could feel the all too familiar sickness taking control.
"What's wrong?" Jadeite asked in accordance to beholding the emotional train wreck before him.
"Nothing, I gotta go. Thanks for the help. I owe you one," he simply stated before gathering his belongings and making a quick departure. Destiny knocked on his door sooner than he could have imagined. After all these years everything would finally come full circle.
Slipping the clips back in his guns before securing them in their resting spot, Darien unlocked the doors and slipped back out into the night.
So lovely and innocent. Nobody truly understands your worth or can come close to comprehending your beauty.
Diamond DelGrassi stared down at the picture of a young woman sitting by the baby grand piano in his studio. A big smile stretched her naturally angular face out and gave her eyes extra sparkle. Softly swiveling his glass of brandy around, he took a small sip before putting the glossy photo back down on his desk and leaning back in his large leather chair.
"But don't worry, Serena, soon you will have someone to cherish you as you deserve."
"You know, brother, it's not very healthy to sit alone in the dark and obsess over a girl who wouldn't even known you existed if it wasn't for a silly little instrument."
"What do you want, Rubeus?" Diamond asked, sounding more bored than angry at his brash comment. Reaching a slender hand up, he pushed a lock of wheat blonde hair behind his ear and watched his intrusive brother with disinterest.
Rubeus walked towards his brooding partner's desk and took a seat across from him. He was attractive but not in the way his brother was; his shaggy crimson hair was wildly spiked as tan skin remained surprisingly flawless for a man. His eyes were exotic, shaped wider than the average person's, and were the shade of the purest waters of the Caribbean. With such good looks, he, along with Diamond, were constantly accused of being too soft to run such a high profile organization. Unfortunately, those poor souls learned the hard way not to second guess a DelGrassi.
"I won't deny it; she is quite the piece of ass but don't you think you're giving her a little too much credit. She's pretty but she's no fucking Mina James," the red head spat, rolling his eyes, "Plus, the chick is jail bait. It's about time to move on to greener and more legal pastures."
"Mind your own business, Rubeus. Plus, don't you think you should be worrying about your own romantic investment's affairs. Oh, and just so you know, I am not using the term 'affairs' figuratively."
"Fuck off, Diamond," Rubeus snarled before emulating his companion's motion and leaning back in his seat, "Emerald isn't fucking anyone but me; she would have to be cracked to even have thoughts about sleeping around."
"Emerald is cracked so I guess you have some questions to ask."
Diamond smirked as his boss's face matched the color of his hair. Rubeus may have been the sole proprietor of this company, but he still had a lot of maturing to do if he wanted to keep it alive. It was too easy to make him angry and as common sense proves, in both real life and works of fiction alike, anger would only lead to destruction. If Rubeus didn't learn this lesson, he could kiss all his hard work good-bye.
"What the hell crawled up your ass?"
He sighed, choosing this as the perfect moment to finish off his soothing beverage, and stared up at the ceiling. The prodigy had been very irritable lately. That realization alone was enough to secrete a bad taste in his mouth, after all Diamond DelGrassi was a man who kept his cool and allowed nothing to effect him or his better judgment. Sometimes he wished the hindering feeling of humanity was easily disposable.
"Nothing. I just do not want anyone interfering in my business and that includes you, brother."
"You need to get laid, Diamond. Sometimes I wonder if you even know how to fuck anymore," Rubeus jeered as he held up his head with the assistance of his hand, "Stop with the fatal attraction; she isn't the only pussy in the world so move on."
"I can't believe you are my brother," the blonde mumbled audibly, "Is there anything productive that you came here to discuss with me or are you here for the sole purpose of annoying me."
"I know you're the one who upped the stakes for the hit on Crown," Rubeus announced, tired of beating around the bush, while rolling his eyes, "Personally, I'm not complaining about sending Chiba to rub him out, that asshole was starting to bug me, but why so much? Plus, you never involved yourself with the company's dirty work. I'm starting to think your contribution is a little bit more personal than just protecting this company's assets."
"He was a hard target to trace. Chiba would have lost motivation if proper compensation wasn't offered."
"Right, because we all know how easy it is in this establishment to take a job and then give it back because it was too hard to accomplish. You're full of shit, Diamond. I'm not getting in your way or chastising you for such a foolish decision but don't let that girl put the wool over your eyes because if she succeeds, I might just have to bring the little princess into our war. And you know what happens when we bring new blood into war, don't you?"
Diamond's eyes narrowed dangerously on Rubeus as his lips twisted up into a rabid sneer, "Are you threatening me?"
"No, I'm threatening her. Just call me your psychic friend; a psychic friend who was kind enough to give you a free reading. Do our girl a favor and prevent my prediction from coming true, yeah?" The ruthless dictator implied before winking, getting up from his chair, and making his way to the door with a bounce in his otherwise confident step.
Diamond's sneer grew steeper. How dare he threaten him? Rubeus had no right to pry into his personal affairs. The bastard had no power over him; he couldn't even keep his own wife from whoring around. There was no way he was going to just sit around and let that incompetent weakling think he could step on him.
Angrily, the slender CEO grabbed his expensive crystal glass and threw it at full force against the door the cocky entrepreneur had just walked out of.
Irene Tsukino sat on the couch in the dimly illuminated den and looked down at one of her daughter's outdated magazines. The Three Starlights had been on the cover of the January issue. It had been a New Year addition and they had just announced their upcoming spring tour. While she had been putting laundry away in Serena's room, Irene noticed the magazine in the trash and decided to claim it for herself.
Sighing, she flipped the magazine back a couple of pages and re-read the Starlight article; her eyes beginning to slightly water. Her husband would always tease her about her secret life as a cradle robber ever since he found the magazine on her nightstand. Glancing at the picture on the other page opposite the written portion, the three young men smiled at the camera; Taiki flipping out a peace sign, Yaten stretching back and winking at the squealing fangirls which would without a doubt be looking through the magazine, and then there was Seiya who leaned back on his chair and coolly smoked a cigarette while also winking at the camera. She lifted her fingers to her lips and then placed them softly over Seiya's picture.
"Mom," came a whisper from the entrance of the den that caused Irene to jump up and drop the magazine in a motion which desperately tried to feign awkwardness. Noticing her mother's strange disposition, Serena crept into close proximity and placed a hand on her shoulder, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Is everything okay?"
Irene smiled and placed a hand over her daughter's own warm one, "I'm fine, sweetheart. You're a little late, what happened?"
"Sorry, I got so wrapped up at the temple that I didn't notice how late it was getting. Just don't tell, dad, okay? I really don't need another lecture about responsibility and the importance of saving up enough money to buy a watch that actually works."
She chuckled and nodded, patting the tardy blonde's hand sympathetically, "Fine, it'll be our little secret this time. But don't make it a habit walking in at two in the morning, especially on a school night."
"Thanks, mom," Serena declared with a sigh of relief before bending down, embracing, and kissing the older woman with gratitude, "I'm going to go upstairs to check on Aslan. He didn't cause too much of a fuss while I was gone, did he?"
"We must not be speaking about the same kid because my grandson is an angel."
"An angel? Now I'm sure we're not speaking about the same kid," Serena joked before patting her mother on the shoulder and beginning her ascent up the stairs.
Keeping the smile on her face, Irene bent over to pick up the magazine she had dropped. Just as she regained her composure and had a firm grasp over her reading material, a soft yet urgent knock at the door caused her to jump up again and drop the magazine again. Cursing under her breath, she got up, tightened the robe around her body in order to cover herself up further, and walked over to the door. Placing a hand on the door knob she called, "Who's there?"
"I'm sorry for bothering you so late at night, ma'am, but I'm a friend of your daughter's and I actually have something that belongs to her. Can you please give it to her? It's important."
Exhaling, Mrs. Tsukino unlocked the door, removing the chain from its captivity, and pulled it open to come face to face with an unfamiliar, older than expected, face. Twisting her face in confusion, she kept the door slightly ajar and stated, "Can I help you?"
"You're looking rather well, Irene. And since you asked, you can be so kind as to tell me this - How can a human being sleep so soundly when she has such a heavy burden to carry on her conscience?"
Trying to slam the door in her intruder's face, a hand snapped out and forced it open. Crying out, Irene hissed, "Who the hell are you? What do you want?"
"C'mon, Aunt Irene, aren't you happy to see me? It's been so long, I figured the reception would be a little warmer."
"Darien?" she whispered, eyes widening in surprise, as her force on the door lessened considerably causing her to be thrown slightly back by the opposing friction. She watched as her long since absent nephew walked in with a dark look on his face. She wanted to reach out and grab him into her arms, tell him how happy she was to see him, but all she had the capacity for was the unintentional production of a gaping mouth.
Darien leaned back, carefully shutting the door as not to alert the other party upstairs, before crossing his arms, leaning back against its sturdy surface impassively, and taking in the sights around him. Shaking his head with disgust, he began, "Lucky aren't you? A nice little life in a nice little home with a nice little family. See, moments like this are why I don't believe in God."
"Darien…"
"Shut up," he forcefully spat, "You moved on with your life without consequence. You don't deserve any of this. Does your family know what type of a person you are? Does your husband know the monster he took as his wife? Did you hold your daughter when she was a baby and confess all your sins to her? Do they even know who you were and what you did? You and your disgusting little life are nothing but lies."
Tears burned at the eyes which closely mirrored her assailant's as she sunk down to her knees with her hands on her face. She had not had the luxury of adjusting to her new position for mere seconds later, she felt hands tightly grasp her wrists, yank her body up, and push her into the den where he slammed her up against the nearest wall. Darien pinned his aunt's hands above her head as his face came dangerously close to hers. His eyes were devoid of emotion and possessed within them an unspeakable fury. He was no longer the sweet boy she had once known; this man had chosen darkness.
"So, have you spoken to Seiya lately?" Darien asked rhetorically before letting go of elegant wrists, grabbing onto the collar of her soft powder blue robe, and throwing his prey down on the floor. He stepped over and lightly pinned her arms underneath his feet with disregard to the contorted look on her face, "I can answer that for you considering the first chance you got, you dumped him in an orphanage. I asked you to care for him so why isn't he here?"
Beginning to sob, she gazed up at him and exclaimed, "I didn't have any experience with kids. I was young and I didn't want to risk making a mistake which could screw him up. I was afraid."
"Newsflash, you already screwed up. They abused him, did you know that? They abused him and he took off; if I wanted him to end up like that I would've left him on some street corner. You had your chance to make amends and you blew it. If anything happens to my brother whether it was directly in result of your poor choices or not; I'm going to kill all your friends and then your entire family. I'll kill them all before I eventually come after you!"
"Please…"
"You and me have unfinished business," he condemned after leaning down and roughly grabbing the older woman's face within his callused grip, "You're going to pay."
"Mom?" A soft voice called from upstairs; the sound of a gurgling baby mixing into the pronunciated request like a backing track. Creaks signifying a possible decent resonated upstairs causing Darien to put a free hand over Irene's tear moistened lips.
Leering back over, the animalistic glint in his eyes shining brighter than ever, he whispered, "I'll see you soon."
Like a thief in the night, Darien Chiba jumped up, blended into the shadows, and disappeared through the front door leaving behind a devastated Irene Chiba Tsukino, who rolled herself into a ball on the floor and cried silently.
"God, what have I done…"