Contains aspects of the dub anime- I couldn't remember what my manga books said…
Trepidation- Feeling of fear or agitation for something that may happen.
She entered the home for research, and left with a bloodstained face, and the inability to see the world in the same way.
Deadlines were close. Yukimi knew how close they were, and it stressed him out, agitated him, made him angrier than ever, a nuisance to all who came by. Dealing with his work in the world above was one thing, but dealing with his work in Nabari was something entirely different, and along with those two worlds adding a workload the size of Mount Vesuvius onto him, he had a kid to deal with. And one that could kill him at any moment if he wanted to. As if that didn't complicate things.
Bored of his work, he let out a sigh, leaning back in his desk chair and cracking his knuckles- he had been mindlessly typing away on the keyboard for the better half of a day. And there was still so much more to do.
He sniffed once, let out a cough, and grabbed the glass at the side of his desk to take a swig of water. Thoughtlessly, he turned his attention to the teen he had been given charge over. He was on the floor, face down, paying no mind to the world around him. The floor was his comfort, his only friend at the moment, and Yukimi decided it was best he didn't bother him.
Rather he turned back to his work with a sigh, cracking his knuckles once again, and readying for several painful hours of work, just to reach his deadlines. He was no more than three letters into the next word when there was a knock on the door. His response was a low growl.
"Of course! Yeah, why not?" he shouted, exasperated. There was no movement from the teen as his caretaker shouted.
Once, twice, three times came the knock on the door, and Yukimi proceeded to respond with an annoyed,
"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming." He took long strides across the flat to the door, pausing only to chide Yoite for being in the middle of the floor as he stepped over him. He expected someone not worth his time, or at the least a delivery-man, coming to take his work early. The first option, however, was in favor today, and Yukimi found himself in a fit of rage when one of the brats he hated so much was standing at his doorway. Bored, he stared her up and down.
"Yeah, what do you want, kid?" He asked, not in the mood for silly games. Either the girl didn't notice his angered tone, or she did and just didn't care.
"You're Yumiki, yes? My name's Amaya," she introduced herself, as though he should care. "I am a part of the Kyroushu, like yourself. I was supposed to pick up some paperwork, something or other, from you today. Or, that's what I was told. Am I at the wrong place….."
She trailed off, and Yukimi stared at her strangely- a look of anger, annoyance, shock and then…
"Oh, shit!" he exclaimed, not caring that he was swearing in the presence of young ears.
"Mister Yukimi?" The female watched as Yukimi fled to his desk and frantically moved papers about. But what he was searching for was no where to be found. Amaya took off her shoes and invited herself in, closing the door softly behind her. She followed Yukimi's path to his desk, taking a moment to stare down at the unresponsive Yoite as she did so. He still did not move. The female turned her attention back to Yukimi.
"Sir, is there a problem?"
Yukimi turned his attention to her. The girl's expression was calm and curious, but stress and annoyance was getting the better of the man, and his response to her calmness was rage.
"Dam well there's a problem!" he shouted. "One, I don't know who the hell you think you are, but it's rude to just waltz into someone else's house, you know that? Two, I have a shit load of work to do and three…" he stopped and fell back in his desk chair with an exasperated sigh.
There was an awkward silence. Yukimi rubbed his hand across his face, Amaya shuffled her feet, eyes darting around to look at anything but the man, Yoite still did not move.
Yukimi let out a calming sigh.
"Sir, if you don't have the paper's ready, I can wait," the girl offered. "I don't have a tight schedule today an-"
"But I do," Yukimi cut her off, a low growl forming in his throat. "What's this stuff for, anyway?"
"Oh, these papers? Well, it's for the Clinic. I'm helping them out today. We're trying to get together health records of all the Kyroushu, keep up to date. Make sure no one's going to be dying or something like that, I don't know." She shrugged. "I just do what I'm told, I don't go into the details."
Another sigh from Yukimi. "Well, this sounds pointless..."
Amaya nodded. "I agree, Sir."
"Ha, you have no idea." Of course she wouldn't know of the situation of the household. "Just give me a minute and I'll have this out. Sit down or something, I don't care, just stay out of the way."
She nodded, obedient, and walked to the couch. She stared at it awkwardly before sitting down. Her eyes trailed to Yoite, who was still laying on the floor, facedown.
"Oh, and Sir, we need records from everyone under your roof, Kyroushu or not, so we can track illnesses and anything that might be contagious, you know."
"Yeah, yeah, of course," Yukimi rolled his eyes. "Man is this a waste of time," he muttered under his breath.
A silence followed thereafter, the only sound being the ticking of the clocks on the wall as the hands moved slowly around, and the clacking of the keys on Yukimi's laptop.
Amaya shuffled her feet, looking around, feeling awkward in the home of a stranger. She tried to settle her eyes on the wall, but they persisted to fall back to the floor where Yoite lay.
"Umm…is he okay?" she questioned after a moment.
"He's fine," Yukimi responded, irked. The female recognized the tone, and shied back slightly, moving sideways on the couch so she was as far away from Yukimi as she could get. Not as though she wasn't far enough already.
With a quick glance to Yukimi, who was scowling at his laptop, she quietly slid from the couch and to the floor. Another glance to Yukimi, who was now scratching his head, and she started to slide her way over to where Yoite lay, still unmoving. Getting up slightly to a crouch, Amaya froze to study him carefully. His shoulders heaved up and down, and the female mentally took in a sigh of relief. At least he was breathing.
"Hey, are you okay? The floor's not a good place to lay flat down on. It could be dirty an-."
"Don't touch me."
As she spoke, she had been reaching out a hand to shake the teen, as though to wake him from a slumber. Amaya instantly retracted her hand.
"Sorry about that…seriously though. There are so many germs on the floor, you know how easy it is to get sick? People walk on floors, with their shoes! That's asking for all manner of germs, it's disgusting."
There was no response from Yoite, but Yukimi turned on her, swiveling back in his desk chair. "Are you calling my place disgusting, you little brat?" There was malice in his voice, and the girl held up hands in surrender.
"What? Oh, no, no, no, Sir! I was just saying, floors are terribly nasty, no matter how many times you clean them. I mean, what with people wearing shoes everywhere 'n all." Yukimi scowled and turned back to the laptop. Amaya rubbed the back of her head and let out a sigh of relief.
The company of the female was not taken well by Yoite. At this time he pushed himself up from the floor, and slowly stumbled his way to the other side of the room, where he sat down once more, back against the wall.
His attempts to ignore the girl were futile, however, as she stared at him, now able to see his face. There was a moment of silence, where, once again, the clock and keyboard were the only noise. The female pondered in her head, when something like a dusty, unused lightbulb switched on inside.
"Wait a sec, duh!" she beat a palm across her own head. "Yukimi…that's right, I have heard that name before." Yukimi growled. "That means…you must be the Kira user! Ah, I remember, I've seen a picture of you before in some of the files I helped put together."
"Way to go, kid, you want a medal." Sarcasm oozed from the blonde man's mouth, but it was ignored. Yoite stared ahead, eyes cold and lifeless, unreadable.
"Yoite, right? Yeah, I have heard of you." She pointed again, as though she had to emphasize her claims, and this was the only way to do so. "The Kira user," again she said it. "I've heard you've killed quite an amount of people for the Kyroushu, and you're like some sort of ace card. Or so it was described to me. Don't know by whom, though." The clacking of the keyboard became louder as she spoke, her constant blabbering annoying Yukimi to no end. Yoite's expression was still unreadable. He was unmoving.
"Yeah, and you've helped out bunches. But, you know. I've seen only a picture of your face. I must say, I more imagined a thicker guy for the rest of the picture. The way they described it, you sounded all buff and ready to take on anyone who stood in your way. But frankly, you look like you need some meat on your bones. You trying to impersonate some anorexic, emo-kid or something, ahahaha."
Her comment was harmless, and truly meant as a joke. She couldn't realize how stupid she was being. Yukimi did, however, and he'd yet to turn around in his chair before her laughter was cut off and instead turned to noises, close to gagging, as she held a hand to her eye.
Across the room from her, Yoite sat, cold, lifeless, head up, face shadowed by his hat. He seemed angry, but it was hard to tell. There was no emotion there. He could kill her, her blood could stain the wooden floors of Yukimi's flat, and he wouldn't care.
The girl had managed to place her hands to her eye as she let out a scream, whimpered.
"Dammit, Yoite, what the hell are you doing?" Yukimi had jumped from his chair, knocking papers and books from the desk as he did so. The younger male ignored, expression as unreadable as ever.
"Dammit, Yoite, stop it!" Yukimi ordered.
He kept his finger outstretched, ignoring Yukimi for a while more before dropping it. His head fell down close to his shoulders as they heaved up and down, and he took in deep, gasping breaths.
Amaya fell to the floor, hands close to her eye, blood falling from her knuckles and in between her fingers. With the heels of her feet she pushed against on the floor, scootching herself back in an attempt to get at far away from Yoite as was physically possibly.
With her one good eye, she stared at the male teen, the whites of her eyes over-taking the color and her pupil- she was full of fear.
"Ah, geeze, there's blood on the floor," Yukimi said, stepping over said drops of blood. "Hey, kid, you okay?" he asked, and she responded by pushing herself up sloppily, pushing her legs on the floor to slide up the wall and stumble into the hallway leading to the door.
"I-I'm fine," she assured, voice shaky, full of anxiety. "I'll send an associate for the papers later- I'll tell them you were busy and they weren't ready yet."
Before Yukimi could react, she had slid her shoes on and was fumbling with the handle. Painful seconds passed as she opened it with one hand and bolted, not bothering to close it behind her.
Yukimi sighed.
"Dammit, Yoite, if you kill the errand girl, her employers won't be too happy." He grumbled and grabbed a handful of paper towels from the kitchen. He tossed half of the towels at Yoite's feet.
"Help me clean this blood up," he ordered as he himself reached down to wipe some of the girl's blood off of his wooden floors. But Yoite did not move. He stared down into his lap, knees drawn up to his chin. His eyes were cold, lifeless-
expression unreadable.