Author's Note: This is a short story I wrote in my creative writing class. I hope to post more soon!
Disclaimer: I do not own the X-men, Marvel, or anything else.
When I arrive Akihiro is already sitting at a small table with heavy linen covering it. He has not noticed me yet, so I take time to observe the restaurant we are in. It has a high ceiling, and insufficient lighting. Akihiro is sitting next to a wall of windows. I am thankful he choose a spot with an easy escape route, if need be.
The smell of garlic, peppers and butter are pungent in the air. I can hear the clash of pans and people yelling in the kitchen, although a band is playing violin music. It is… odd. To hear and smell these things while the people around me remain unaffected. Enhanced senses only ever widen the gap between myself and regular humans.
The man are all wearing suits, and all the other women are wearing dresses of kaleidoscope of colors. I am the only one wearing a suit. The dresses suction to their bodies as if they were wet. They are all wearing shoes in order to appear just slightly smaller than their dates. None of the shoes are practical. If in emergency, they needed to run, they would be dead.
Akihiro is dressed in a suit, which is clean, and crisp. It could not of cost any less than $1,000. His sharp blue eyes finally find me and he smiles. It is dangerous. If I told him how it makes him look like Logan, he would probably stab me.
He stands as I approach the table, and shakes my hand. He towers over me. Akihiro had to have gotten that genetic trait from his mother. Logan is only an inch taller than me. We both take our seats.
"I wasn't sure you would come," He said.
"You wanted to talk."
"Oh Laura," He laughs. "Can't a man just want to talk to his little sister?"
"I am not here to play games, Akihiro."
His smile breaks. "My name is Daken," He growls, "If you start calling me 'Aki' or anything of the sort, I will cut your arm off." His body language is, erratic. I sniff discreetly, and his scent is equally confusing. He is only half joking.
"I refuse to call my brother a mongrel. Your name is Akihiro and I will call you such." Akihiro forgets I survive this family by being too stubborn to die.
A waitress comes by to serve us duck and red wine. I wait until she is gone to tell him I am not old enough to drink alcohol.
"Right," He scoffs. "Like you don't have eight I.D.'s saying your twenty-four. Look at us, a seventeen year old and a seventy year old, both pretending to be in their twenties." I take a bite of duck. His eyes glisten. "Which brings me back to the reason your here, our similarities."
I know what he is trying to say. He is not right. He is not wrong. "I do not kill for fun."
"Never said you did, but you are a killer."
"I did what was necessary to survive."
"All of them?" I do not answer him. "Besides, this is just a business proposition."
"I do not kill for money."
"Fine. Don't take the money and call it charity work. I can guarantee these people deserve it."
I tilt my head to observe him. His eyes are shiny, almost giddy at the prospect of spilt blood. "I am willing to listen."