'This job never becomes any easier.'

That was the thought passing through Okonogi Masaya's head as he walked back to his apartment in the city of Tsurugigaoka.

It was nighttime in the small city, and the brunet was making his way home after his last (admittedly short) assignment. The area was quiet, which he expected. It was the reason he had chosen to come back here instead of remaining in Tokyo as the other 'test subjects' had.

At least, the ones who hadn't gone insane and committed suicide after regaining freedom they never remembered to have.

He sighed to himself as he passed a group of young drunk men and women. 'Freedom' was the most sugarcoated way he could put it. In the end, he was freed from one place only to be placed under another. And he still debated whether his new superiors were any better.

They certainly had no qualms about tossing him away if and when his usefulness ran out.

As he pondered these thoughts, a familiar sound caught his attention, coming from the intersection to his left.

It was the sound of a struggle... A fight.

His first thought was to leave it be. It had nothing to do with him. Despite that thought, however, he found himself making his way towards the sound. He figured he'd take a look at the situation, and if it was unimportant, he'd be on his way.

He was in for a rude shock.

When he arrived at the intersection, he saw what appeared to be a group of uniformed, short-haired women surrounding a single figure, who was struggling valiantly. In the flashes of sight he could catch of the lone figure, he could only think of them as 'bright in color'.

Then the uniformed women parted, revealing the person, and Masaya's dull eyes widened in shock.

He knew that face.

Not just the face, but the bubblegum-pink hair as well. It was one of his more faint memories, but there was no way he could forget the person in it.

He immediately reined himself in and schooled his features. Despite the fact that he had been freed from captivity a long time ago, by his account, the effects of the training he had been under still defined a large part of him.

And the biggest of those pain-taught lessons was 'never show emotions'.

Regardless, he studied under group as the girl he remembered as Lis Branche struggled valiantly against her captors.

Having finally caught their charge, he assumed, the uniformed women had spread out into a rough semi-circle, watching as the one he assumed was their current leader or commander held onto Lis.

"Not many openings," Masaya commented aloud to himself, scanning their poses and movements. "It may be rudimentary, but they have some training."

Softly, he began to approach his first two targets, his shoes making no noise as he approached. He kept as low as possible in order to not only stay hidden from the 'officers' but from Lis herself. Whether she recognized him or not, if she noticed and focused on him, his element of surprise would be lost, making this much more troublesome.

He stopped just behind and between two of the women, who were eerily focused on the struggle. Like a viper, he struck forward with his hands, grabbed their heads, and slammed them together, knocking them unconscious almost immediately. Even before they had fully fallen to the ground, he was already moving, dashing towards the other two women that were hanging back. They were oddly slow to react, which gave Masaya plenty of time to approach the one on the left, landing a punch directly on her solar plexus. As the woman flinched back with a cry of pain, the other women to his right tried to rush him. He sidestepped her charge and grabbed her arm by her wrist and elbow, using her momentum to swing her around himself and throw her at her partner, who had yet to recover. Both women went down in a heap.

Finally, Masaya looked at the remaining woman, who was staring at him in astonishment alongside Lis. She recovered soon enough, though.

"Who are you?!" she yelled at him, her hold on Lis wavering slightly.

Masaya did not answer. He simply stared at the woman, unnerving her. The image he presented was a somewhat terrifying one. His clothing, consisting of a suit and tie with a long coat over the jacket, was completely dark in color, to the point where the shadows around him seemed to stick to his body. His eyes were a brown color, just like his limp, neck-length hair, with large bags around them signifying a serious lack of sleep.

His most defining part, though, were his irises.

Those orbs were dull, empty, and coldly devoid of any emotion. The utter lack of anything in them made the woman shudder in a way the chilly weather could never achieve.

"Why have you intervened? This doesn't concern you," the officer continued.

Masaya once again remained silent. Instead, he began to walk towards the pair, his steps calm and just as silent as he was. The observation that worried her the most was that this seemed to be something automatic to the young man, which, when combined with his looks, drew bad assumptions to her mind.

Making a quick decision, she glared back at the pinkette in her grip, wordlessly ordering her to stay put. Letting her go, the officer approached the young man carefully, keeping her wits about her. When they were less than a meter apart and he still showed no sign of attacking, she struck, dashing forward and throwing a punch his way. Masaya leaned his head to the side, avoiding it by a hair, and yet, his facial expression never changed. He then retaliated with his own punch, a jab directed right at her sternum. She raised a knee up to block it, the impact making her wince and lose her balance somewhat. The punch had much more strength than she anticipated, considering his overall, still-boyish looks.

That temporary loss of balance was her undoing.

Before she could get her bearings, Masaya grabbed her by her jacket and pulled her towards him, twisting her around and wrapping his arm around her neck, cutting off her air flow.

As she struggled in his hold, she barely processed the whisper the young man left on her ear.

"Sorry about this, but I need to talk to her."

And a moment later, his grip tightened significantly, leaving her to pass out with curiosity burning in her mind.

As the leader finally went limp in his arms, Masaya slowly laid her on the ground. When he looked around, however, he realized that Lis had taken the chance given and booked it.

"Well, guess it's for the best," Masaya said emotionlessly, though he couldn't control the tinge of disappointment in him.

Considering the current state of Tsurugigaoka's crime rate and mob situations, Masaya decided to move the women he had just fought to a nearby alley, leaning then against the wall of the restaurant to the right. He stood at the entrance of the alley, waiting for them to awaken, a wait that thankfully was short.

The one he remembered throwing by her arm against her partner was the first to stir, groaning as she opened her eyes. Looking around, the first thing she noted was her unconscious teammates, then the young man who had fought and beaten them leaning against the wall at the mouth of the alley, watching them. She attempted to jump to her feet and confront him, but her sore body screamed in protest, making her wince and stumble.

"I wouldn't suggest that," Masaya spoke up. "You should take it easy for the next day or so, and probably take a hot bath to help relax your muscles."

"And why would you care?!" the woman snapped at him.

To her surprise, the young man didn't respond in kind. He simply looked away and shrugged. "It's just a suggestion. Take it how you will. Could you wake up your comrades? I do need to get going."

As she moved to the commander of the group, the woman gave Masaya a shrewd look. She couldn't get a read on his thought process. First, he suddenly intervenes in their mission, then he moved them to an alley, where one would typically think he'd kill, rape, or do some other unspeakable action to them. But no, he simply waits until they wake up, and the first thing he tells them is advice for sore muscles? Just what was he playing at?

Maybe she was reading too many novellas and horror stories.

The commander woke up after just a few shakes, though the first move she made was putting a hand to her head as a stab of pain shot through it.

"Take deep breaths," Masaya once again spoke up with advice. "Try to get as much oxygen as you can inside you quickly, but exhale slowly.

The groggy woman gave him a very similar look to the one her underling had given him, but it was sound advice. So as her comrade moved on to wake the rest of the group, she relaxed and breathed as deeply as she could, recreating similar meditation techniques she had used before. Faintly, she could hear the other three women awakening as well, with the stoic young man giving each of them advice based on what he had done to them during their one-sided match.

Once all the women were awake, there was an awkward silence as both sides tried to think up what to say. Masaya was awaiting their predictable questions, while the group of women were wondering what to ask first.

"Why did you stick around?" a brown-haired woman near the back blurted out, drawing all attention to her. "I mean, one would normally think that you'd leave at first notice, not wait until we had awoken."

The rest of the women turned back to Masaya, the same question burning in their minds. His answer surprised them.

"If there's one thing I'm familiar with about this place, it's the crime rate and gang activity," the young man explained monotonously. "If I had left you there, sprawled on the ground, I assure you you'd probably have much more pressing problems than sore muscles."

The group cringed simultaneously, understanding his point.

"Regardless, the reason I intervened in your mission ran off, so I apologize for the inconvenience."

"Do you know Rise?" the leader asked.

"Ah, so that's her name. I know her, in a sense. I doubt she remembers me, though." Masaya turned and began to walk away, having nothing more to say to them and surprising them once again with his abruptness. "Take care, ladies. I'll be going."

…

Roughly an hour later, Masaya was back at his apartment, located in the south area of the city. It was an inconspicuous place, which suited him just fine.

As he walked around his small kitchen and fixed himself a drink, his phone rang from his bedroom. Having left his long coat there, with the phone inside the pocket, Masaya left the bottle on the counter and walked over, pulling it out of the jacket's pocket and flipping it open.

He already knew who it was.

"Okonogi Masaya."

"Masaya, you have a new assignment," a soft, female voice spoke from the other end. "Long term."

"Parameters?"

"Recently, the head family of Kamiyagi Industries has become a target, and they have hired us for assistance. Your charge will be the head's daughter, Kamiyagi Ruriko, who is about to attend her second year of Final Course at Vincennes Private Girls Academy. You are going to be her bodyguard under the guise of a transfer student meant to test if the school can become co-educational."

"Understood. Send me a copy of all the files we have of the girl, her potential threats, and Vincennes itself. I assume you're going to be taking care of talking with the headmaster or headmistress about the situation?"

"Kamiyagi-sama had already taken care of that, and as request from the headmistress, he has asked for an extra addition: for you to work alongside the Gardiane, their security, and neutralize any other potential threats to the school itself and its students. Most of Ruriko's classmates are targets as well, though probably not to her caliber."

"Got it. Masaya out."

…

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