4J59H: Unnamed and Unknown
My mission was simple, get in and get out and don't fall in love on the way.
I failed that mission.
My name was 4J59H. Nothing more and nothing less, that was whom I was called for most my miserable life.
I had a real name, a name that someone whom I loved could call me, but that was classified, even to me. They would never let me know who I really was.
And they, meaning Shadow, the notorious crime institute that was never caught once and known as the world's largest underground gang. They had given me my name and my purpose in life, to follow orders and never fail.
My sister and I were part of Shadow ever since I was born, apparently my parents had died and the Shadow took us in, though the life was hard, it was the only thing we knew and the only thing that knew us as well. My sister was their best agent. She never was unsuccessful, never faltered and always was hundred's of steps ahead of her opponent. She was praised for her excellence and I was complimented for having such a person to be related to me.
But then it happened.
She quit, ten years ago, and since then she'd been running.
That day was clear as ice and I remember each event so well.
"Those twins," she said, "they really liked me," her words were soft and deft. Her bag full of clothes was slung casually over her shoulder and one leg was out the open window. "They trusted me even though I told them never to trust anyone. I can't live this life anymore anyways. I'm losing my touch."
Then with that she left, disappeared into the black shadows of night, leaving nothing except for the sound of a loud siren ring about in my ears.
Before that she told me of that mission, the one she nearly failed because of two twins.
"Then they wanted me to tell them apart," she recounted. I was five then.
"Could you?!" I asked eagerly. She shook her head.
"They looked so much alike I don't think that anyone in this world could ever tell them apart,"
"Then what did you do?"
"Are you still naïve? I did to them what I always do," she answered in a huff.
"You left them hurt and heartbroken," I finished.
Every mission she would detail to me, the person she would pretend to get close to would get hurt when she left. She was that good.
It almost shocked me that someone actually had moved her and had her leave the one thing she and I shared. So I hated them, those Hitachiin twins. Because of them I had to suffer. I was tortured and pushed so hard to make up for my sister's actions. It was their fault.
In two years, I had the physical ability of a pro-athlete, learned 12 languages and 14 different dialects, a brain that rivals Einstein's and Edison's, learned every way to get out of any situation. Then when I was 12, I was sent on my first solo mission and passed with flying colors. That same night they gave me 100 lashings on my bare back so that blood flowed freely, their sign that I was officially accepted into their group.
Then, they sent me on the assignment that seemed so simple but in the end nearly cost me my life and my love.
"Your task is simple, 4J59H," I heard the scratchy voice of the Head over the phone.
"You will attend Ouran High School under the alias of Yasu Shiori; infiltrate the funds at their financial stocks at their next festival, which takes place 3 months from now. That much you can handle, yes?"
"Hai!" I shouted, my voice was impassive and cold.
"Excellent, let's see if you can be as good as your sister once was," his voice fuzzed.
"I will not fail, Master,"
"Your profile will be sent at 0600 hours, by then you must have all preparations made and ready to leave at 0630,"
I made no reply.
"Out," his voice stated, the cellphone beeped and then silence. I just stood there for a moment, then snapped my phone shut and threw it on the hotel bed. Then I started to get ready.
I remembered from my research of the schools in Japan and the prestigious one that lay in Bunkyo, Tokyo. Ouran was known for housing students of the most high-status pedigree and who own amazing wealth, the people whom we usually targeted.
The way that Shadow works is simple; the Head would set his eye on a certain target and work out which agent he would send, if they failed he killed them or made them disappear, if they succeeded they were brought back and awarded a short leave, a vacation. Nee-chan got a lot of vacations.
I barely slept a wink that night, focusing so much on that dumb assignment. But it was natural, that I wouldn't get any sleep. The next morning at precisely 6 o'clock a folder file suddenly appeared on my laptop screen, I scanned it quickly.
Apparently for the next 3 months I was to be known as Yasu Shiori, who was 16 years old and born on the 17th of April.
I liked the color blue, Classical music and books; extremely studious and cold.
"The Head put a lot of thought into this one," I muttered, sarcasm leaking from my voice. Usually for assignments like these he would change everything about my personality, just to see how I would cope with it. He nailed the "cold" part, the rest I'd rather not say anything about it, because it would probably be filled with diatribe you're not even allowed to know.
My thoughts were interrupted by the bell of my cellphone; it rang like a death signal, filling you with dread and suspense every time the tune reaches your ears. I swiped it off the table and flung it open; it was a text message.
'Limo's here' it read.
I grabbed my "belongings" which were practically a sack of microchips, cameras and a laptop, and left the room. And as I made my way to the lobby, I could feel the ever-watching eye of security cameras that zoomed and swiveled to focus on me while I walked past. I made it to the elevator, unharmed and gently pushed the "L" button. Soon enough the elevator dinged and the doors slid open to the brightly lit room of the lobby of the hotel. I casually walked past the counter where a perky-looking boy smiled.
"Have a good day," he said cheerfully. His outfit was tacky, a simple red vest over a blouse. On the vest you could see a gold-plated nameplate that stated: Mato Kichiro.
I scoffed as I signed out in the account book that lay on the counter before him and quickly walked through the spinning doors. The sudden air made me jerk for a bit, it was a long time since I actually breathed in the fresh air, being stuck in that hotel room for three days straight. And it wasn't technically fresh either, it was dust filled and polluted but it was air all the same. I spotted my limo and ran towards it in a hurry. The driver opened the door and I slid in.
Inside sat the director of the "H" quadrant, my rank. This was a sign that this mission was bigger than I perceived it to be.
"4J59H, just in time," he muttered. I took in his appearance, he was smartly dressed and had had dark sunglasses that sat at the bridge of his sharp nose. He seemed to do the same with me and raised his thick eyebrows at the outfit I chosen, which was very informal. But it wasn't as though I cared much, t-shirts and jeans work wonders for me. With the start of the engine the limo pulled off into the traffic-filled streets.
"Hm," the man muttered at length, sending me a glare through his darkened gaze, "You certainly look like your sister, so much in fact,"
"Am I supposed to take that as a compliment or an insult?!" I spat, I hated the guy's guts, always comparing me with my sister. And plus he was gay.
"Neither," he responded, swiftly crossing his legs then flicked out his leather briefcase. "But let's not have small-talk at the moment," he said jovial, snapping it open. I rolled my eyes, the other directors of quadrants B-G were not as cheery as him but he was one of the best former agents in Shadow. He handed me a folder full of papers that were covered in codes and random lettering. I interpreted them as the hacking code for the school's computer and background history of my alias.
The Yasu family is supposedly the owner of a small business industry and is not widely known but populates in the United States. I double checked the codes then set them down next to me and crossed my arms over my chest; the silence was ticking me off.
"4J59H, just because I'm here at the moment doesn't mean that the mission is amazingly hard. It's not in fact it's fairly simple. It's just that matter of…"
"Fitting in and making certain that the community trusts me," I finished. He shook his head in a laugh.
"Sharp as ever, 4J59H. You'll probably be fine,"
"I always am,"
The limo pulled to a stop and I found myself at HQ that was disguised as a small office building. I followed the director in. He took me to a changing room and snatched my pack and shoved a fluffy yellow dress into my arms.
"You're kidding me," I hissed, holding the hideous mutated object in various angles.
"Don't ask me why, that's the uniform," he said with a shrug, then his expression got serious. "The school day starts at 0800 hours, ends at 1500." He pushed me into a make-shift changing room. "Your class schedule will be given to at the location, Don't get involved in too many activities but enough to have you participating in the event. Any questions?"
"Yeah, just one," I replied as I drew back the curtain, "What's up with my name?!"
He chuckled and handed me a pair of thick glasses.
"It matches your personality, a 'calm bookmark'; don't you think that fits you?" he asked, his dark brown locks shaking from laughter as I placed the glasses on my nose, the lenses were glass but expertly masked most of my face. I huffed and grabbed my sack from his burly hands.
"Jerk," I muttered.
I began to search my new bag; it was designer and very expensive looking. Books and notebooks already filled it and my laptop placed nicely above them. I checked to see if my cellphone and my lunch were there and a few other things I may need in the future. I was all set.
"We're here," he muttered to me, instantly I straightened my posture and took on an austere aura.
"Ouran Academy, a place of pedigree and academic achievement, all posh," he laughed, whence a large school appeared in view. The gates of the school opened and the elongated black car ran over the gravel road into the court of elegance. It was disgusting and way too pretty for my liking. The limo stopped and I waited until the driver opened the door. As my eyes met the bright sun, I could hear the loud clanging of the violet bell tower that rung.
"Ah, I see that you have arrived!" an elderly blonde man dressed in a pure white suit, said with vigor and shaking my hand, "Such a pleasure to have you at our school,"
"The pleasure is all mine, sir," I replied with a fake smile, but credible enough for the man to accept. I determined that he was the superintendent of the school, Suou Yuzuru.
"Ah yes, such a pleasure to hold when a victim of elegance falls into the trap of Ouran!" he shouted, and I swore I saw glitter flow from his graceful smile.
"What…is he?!" I asked myself.
"Suou-sama, I am Yasu-sama's caretaker," the director said interrupting the man's methodical form of beauty. He bowed gracefully and shook his hand.
"Ah yes, and may I ask where Shiori-hime's parents are at the moment?" the superintendent asked.
"They are in America, still, Suou-sama," I answered. He bought it completely, and nodded as if in remorse.
"Such a horrid thing to have your family on the other side of the world, do you not get lonely?" he asked me, his eyes filling with tears. I quietly sobbed.
"Yes, they barely have any time for me and sometimes I feel so lonely," I said nervously, gently holding my hand to my mouth. That got him going. He embraced me in a warm hug and began to cry freely.
"Ah, such a horrid thing indeed!" he let me go, "But need to worry, I will certainly become a father to you during your time here!" he said heroically, as if having no idea that he was being played.
"Arigato, sir," I said with a bow.
As quickly as I wanted the introduction to go, it went by extremely slowly and it wasn't until 8:30 that I could go to my class.
"Your room is right down the hall, 1-A, alright?" Suou instructed me, pointing to the large and eloquent hall. I nodded, nervously grasping my bag that sweat leaked from my pores. And I actually did feel nervous, amazingly. My heart was beating as I took a step closer and closer to the door. With a deep breath I grasped the gold-plated handle and turned it.
"Suminasen, but I believe this is my class?" I asked. The teacher perked at my sight and nodded. I walked in to find a whole wave of whispers and sudden movements. The teacher took me by the shoulder and presented me to the class.
"Students, this is your new classmate, Yasu Shiori," he stated, "Please make her feel welcome,"
"Arigato," I said quietly, bowing low to my sudden audience.
"You can go sit behind the Hitachiin twins," he suggested pointing to an empty desk that was parked in the far corner of the room. The name made something snap in my mind.
'Hitachiin'
The twins that brought turmoil into my life and they were here. I soaked in their appearance quickly as walked towards them. Both had brilliant orange hair, immersing amber eyes and completely identical. They matched my sister's description perfectly and it seemed that they hadn't changed, both seemed on the wild side and their uniform was ruffled and obviously tampered with during class hours. Just seeing them smile and smirk made me hate them even more.
"Nice to meet you," I said sweetly to them, pausing before sitting down. They jeered and snorted and I sat quickly down, immediately thinking of ways to completely destroy the two. During the whole entire class I observed them, watching their every move, taking in anything that would deem useful in the future.
"Yasu-san, would you please answer the next math question?" the teacher asked. I nodded and made my way to the board, quickly wrote the answer on the board and sat back down. Then suddenly whispers filled the room again, at first it puzzled me and then I slapped my head for the fact that I was completely ignorant. Apparently the answer that I wrote was written in its complex function formation, indicating that I learned advanced physics and geometry. I made a slip-up, a stupid and dumb mistake that may cost me. Thankfully, the teacher didn't say much and continued with the lesson but my nerves didn't rest until the bell for lunch brightly rang. The students filed out quickly as if that the lunch bell was a bringer of joy and that the meal was the most important thing of their day. I sighed as I took out my bento from my bag. I never felt this nervous before on any of my previous missions, and it frightened me that my hands were still clammy and that I would sweat periodically.
"Uh, you have a bento, too?" a voice asked. I turned to meet the questioning gaze of one of my peers. It was Fujioka Haruhi, who stood pointing a slender finger at my lunch, holding a wrapped bento herself. The person was short, natural good looks, short brown hair and large chocolate eyes. But what surprised me was that Haruhi was wearing the boy's uniform.
"Yeah, my family isn't that rich and it's less of a hassle for them and for me if I just brought my own lunch," I answered.
"Ah,"
"May I ask that you will join me?" I posed, hoping to entice her even if she was of the middle class. She nodded and sat in the seat besides me and opened her box.
"You pack it very nicely," I commented with a smile. She stared at me strangely.
"You have an awkward smile,"
Right then, I felt as if I was about to explode, but I reminded myself to restrain.
"But what is even more awkward is that a female student would don the male uniform," I stated menacingly. That made her nervous, so I supposed.
"How did you know?"
"Simply put, your figure is to slim and matches more of a woman than a male, your shoe size is too small for a usual 16 year-old teenager boy, your eyes are amazingly large for a young man and your fingers are slender and have no calluses or bruises, your uniform is to neatly ironed and positioned so that your waist line is higher than for men. And you sound too much like a girl," I quickly explained in a breath, resting my chin on my hands, waiting for her expression. But she simply laughed.
"You sound like Kyouya-sempai!" she chuckled, then stuffed a spoonful of rice in her mouth, "You're very funny, Yasu-san,"
That surprised me enough that I made no comment, then I smirked.
"Shiori, call me Shiori, Yasu-san is too formal," I said, taking a small sausage and popping it into my mouth. She stared at me with a surprised stare, then the sound of her swallow made me chuckle.
"Can I call you Haruhi?" I asked, spooning a bit of my egg into my mouth. She nodded again as she took another bite of her rice. Then with mouths full, we laughed. It seemed as though I made a friend.
Yes! I finally started! I had all these ideas for an Ouran fic but I just couldn't pick one…thanks to all my friends for their thoughts and thanks to you for actually taking time to read this! Hope you enjoyed the first bit so far!
R&R!
Ja-ne!
Arigato123
(a.k.a)
The Aspiring Author (My dad's nickname for me)
Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran Host Club and all characters belong to Bisco Hatori but I do own this fiction.