Standard Disclaimer: I don't own FruBa. This plot and original characters are mine, but not Fruba itself. Any twisted, enhanced psychotic tendency, morbid reactions, deep and well deserved brooding and/or beating ones self up that happen to appear in the story are mine and I stake full claims with some help and idea's. Please review, and any flame will be laughed if not ignored. This has been inspired by many people works and I give credit to all of them and in no way am I claming that all of these idea's are mine.
AN: Well...I don't have much to say. This is a little different, so just follow me for as long as you can. For this story, lets pretend magic and all that jazz does exist, and that there are vampires, zombies, trolls, dragon, werewolf's, demons, etc, and it will make life a lot easer when you read this. It's all for first person POV, and the POV doesn't change. THIS IS AN AU! If you don't like it, leave.
Have fun...
The Collector
By: SAL-Chan
Chapter One: Welcome to my Life
There were small spots of drying blood on my face, and thankfully none of it was mine. It's slightly odd to think of starting the day off with dots of liquid that came from inside another person's body splashed across yours, but you get accustomed it. Either you're forced to or you snap like a dry twig. It's an easy guess at which one I picked -I'm still here.
Truthfully, I wasn't starting the day off with blood on my face; my day was just continuing. My days were about 36 hours long, with up to 6 hours of sleep - if I was lucky. After a while you get used to living of black coffee and sleeping with your eyes open. Paranoia helps one's insomnia.
Most of the time, you shouldn't meet a client with dried blood spots on you face. It's not very neat, or professional. But frankly, I don't really care. My boss on the other hand...he cares a bit more then me.
My job is simple really, but it does makes me stand out. It's not like I really had to study to be what I am, but it occasionally requires blood on my face - sometimes more then just on the face. My life has become quite complicated under my nose, and only after a near death experience has it been brought to my attention.
Currently, the client in my office was silently examining the product of my most recent near-death experience. My entire left shoulder was covered in small rivets of deep cuts and there was a long slash down my back because of that experience, as well as my left hand being cut up quite nicely. Well, the client couldn't really see my back, but my arm was another story all together. I love wearing short-sleeved shirts just for this one purpose.
I extended my right hand out to the so-far nameless client, knowing fully well that people tend to not want to shake mutilated parts of your body. His paper white hand had a strong grip despite the fact the he looked very frail. The palm of his hand was still smooth even against the tough and sharp calluses of mine. A light blue colored long sleeved shirt covered his arms totally, fully reaching up his arm. His face was the same pale shade of white that his hand was, so white it made his skin seem thinner then normal. He wore a pair of black jeans that weren't faded anywhere, and a pair of black shoes that I couldn't place the name of. They looked expensive and new - unused and plain.
"Hello, um..." I let my rough voice trail off, slowly letting go of his hand.
Most people who came to me where very professional, or very regular - average Joe's. Truthfully, with all the new worldwide laws that are being kicked into motion, my crew and I are considered cold-blooded killers. We kill the bad guy's, but we still kill. We're hired by legitimate business or other professionals - even some Joe's with enough money - and kill for them. Assassin isn't the word, but it's very close to it. We are the secretive murders, but people still come to us for kills - or hunts.
"Yosuki. Yosuki Atsuo." His voice was as soft as I had expected it to be, but it did hold the tired scratchiness of age and experience.
He pushed a long copper colored strand of hair away for his sculpted face, letting it fall to the floor. It coiled like a snake around the chair behind him and looked as if it was tangling itself. He never took off his solid black pair of sunglasses that wrapped around to cover his eyes. I had the feeling that he wouldn't take the glasses off now, and that he wouldn't the entire time I would see him today. His thinly stretched skin almost blended with the walls of my office.
My office was painted endless white, and the carpet was gray - the ceiling a lighter shade of the carpet. My desk had rich black color and looked more like an architects drawing table then a desk. It was tilted flat, but it gave me enough room to lay down plans of graveyards or houses or whatever. My nameplate sat in the corner next to my silver architects lamp, along with a bottle of water and a cup holder of pens. Under my desk were file cabinets that almost blended to the table to make it look like a desk - but it wasn't. They work better the regular desk draws do, but it still proves that my boss is a cheep bastard. He's the only one in the company that has a real desk...
There was a mirror that wrapped around the wall that sat behind me. It started from the bottom of my hip and came up to about three feet above my head. The mirror also stretched half way across the walls on either side of me, the same length on each side. Mirrors that could help me in more ways then one protected me. Vampire's - for future knowledge, and a refresher for anyone who didn't know- do not have a reflection. Mirrors also reflected the real images of a person if they cast glamour or any illusion. I was very thankful for my mirror...
Other then my mirror, I was lost in a cloud of gray.
"Yosuki-San, how can I help you today?" I said, sitting down in the chair behind my desk.
"Well Mr...." He repeated my eyebrow lift, and I grinned. I ran my left hand thought my hair and leaned back in my chair.
"Sohma Kyo. It says it on the name plate." I gestured at the gold colored plate near the lamp, but Yasuki-san just smiled. I pulled at the bottom of my gray tank top and crossed my legs at the ankles. A ripped pair of blue jeans covered my legs, blood spots scattered all over my knees and along the bottoms of the legs. My black Nikes had no blood on them that the eye could catch, but I knew for a fact that I had made tracks of blood in my wake when I walked into the office. My regular silver cross hung by a thin chain around my neck, a very comfortable weight against my scared chest. Killing two birds with one stone with a silver cross. Today happened to be a dress down day...in fact, every day happened to be a dress down day.
"Sohma Kyo." He said my name, testing it on his lips - smiling slightly. I didn't like that, not one freken bit. I've learned that if someone tastes you name, they know they're going to need to remember it. I glared at him.
"Yosuki-San, I'm a busy man. I do have appointments I need to check over..." I lied. Frankly I hadn't had my coffee in the past few hours - my day wasn't over quite yet, not until after tonight. And my gut was screaming at me to get the hell away from this guy as quickly as possible. I almost always agreed with my gut.
His smile fell off instantly. "I'll try not to take up to much of your valuable time, Sohma-San."
I could feel his heavy gaze through his sunglasses, and I knew he knew I was lying. A little white lie, but a lie never the less.
"I'm looking for a shape shifter for one of my own clients - I'm a privet deceive, you see. The shifter is someone from his or her family, a lost family member. They want me to find him. I've been told that your company happens to be one of the best tracking company's in Japan." His voice was quite monotone
"You want to track a shifter? That's all?" I blinked at him. It's rare that I'm asked to just track a shifter and not kill them. A retrieval thing was new to me. Yasuki smiled at the blunt surprise on my face, and then slowly started to laugh. His laugh creped up my arm's and raised goose bumps along then, and it made the hair on the back of my neck stand at attention. His laughter curled around my stomach, and that feeling in m chest was screaming at me to leave. Old power beat around me, making my heartbeat quicken.
I turned around to check my mirror, to see if he was really there. Only old vampires - master vampires could make my skin crawl and my stomach churn. If he was a master vamp, then he must of been really old to be out in the daytime...
My shaggy orange hair swung around me, cropped short in the front and slightly longer in the back. My face was paler then my normal tan, and my eyes looked even brighter in their sockets - a bright shade of gray. I knew they were really red - no, they were crimson. I've been told my eyes were crimson, the exact color of blood. I couldn't see the color of blood, so I didn't know. I've never been able to see red -any red -, and I'm kind of thankful for that. My pink was pink, as long as it wasn't too red.
My red was gray. My red has been gray for a long time...
And there in the mirror sat Yosuki, a sweet smile on his face. I slowly turned back around to face him, my face and heart uneasy.
"I am not a vampire, Sohma." He said smoothly, reading my mind. I didn't feel him in my head, but my actions must of given my suspicions away. Once upon a time my eyes would have given more away, but not any more. That story's a very long one...
"Then what are you?" I asked, anger and some fear leaking into my voice. He was old with a hell of a lot of power, and wasn't a vamp. There wasn't much else he could be, and all of these choices weren't friendly.
"Perhaps there will be another time for that latter on, Sohma. As of now, I need your answer. Will you find my shifter?" His smile was as sincere as it could possibly be. All the alarms in my head were ringing. Yet he had come to me in a work environment and asked me to do a job. There was no threat toward me from him at all. I had to agree, I was obligated when on the job.
My gut told me not to take the job, to find some way out of it. This couldn't have been legit...
"You have all the paperwork?" I asked, a frown captivating my entire face. Most people don't have the paperwork, but the moment I said it I knew he would have it. Yosuki didn't seem like 'most people' and carelessly forget the all-important paperwork.
He smiled a ghost of a smile and placed a manila folder on my desk. Damn. I looked through it quickly. Everything was signed where it should have been, all the information was filled out, and there wasn't any reason for me to suspect that this was bad idea. But my gut wasn't buying it, even though I couldn't deny him or question him at all. It was policy not to get to know your client deeper then the paperwork. It makes life easer.
"When do you want to do this?" I asked, closing the folder and crossing my arms. If I couldn't get out of it, I could move it along.
"The sooner the better. I have an idea of where he is, but I don't have the skills or technology to catch him. " He said simply, but I felt his gaze through the glasses. I couldn't tell if he was lying to me or not. That was bad.
"Where?" I asked, letting him bate me. I sounded as weary as I felt, and I knew he saw it in my eyes. He smiled and pulled a folded peace of paper out of his pocked and placed it on my desk.
"I'll meat you at this location around 9?" He made it a question, keeping one finger on the paper. I quickly grabbed my appointment book and looked at my schedule. I nodded and stood up, and he followed my lead - standing in one fluid motion. All skin and no bones. It made me shiver, and it made the hairs on my neck stand up again.
"I'll see you there then." I extended my arm out toward him in a friendly closing gesture, and he took it. I should really try not to be to friendly anymore, it always happens to go wrong.
The instant he touched my hand I felt power race up my arm so fast it went numb. Power differs from person to person in the way it touches another person's aura. Most of the time it feels's like insects are crawling all over your skin. The older one's power is, the colder it feels. Yosuki's power felt like someone's hands were caressing my arms, the skin numbing in the wake of it all. I felt his hands of power touch my chest and push inside me, brushing my heart and diving deeper to search under my skin.
I felt the power call to something inside of me - like a voice whispering in my ear, but I had noting to call back with that was strong enough to be noticed. I could only feel the power of others, I could only read how strong they were and find them - a simple Tracker with some extras thrown in. But that wasn't enough to respond with, so Yosuki's power searched further - plunged deeper into my aura. That power called to my soul, and my soul answered in a burning rush as soul energy normally does - like it's swats back angry for being disturbed. A quick sweep of warmth, and that warmth let me feel that something inside of me was missing. There was a hole in me that his power gathered in and it pushed up against the small amount of power that sat in me, and the rest of the hole's walls. It made my chest numb.
Slowly he let go of my hand and smiled at me, pulling that power out of my body and back into himself. I felt that same cold power beet around me - around the room, and the hole in me felt open to the world. Like I truly had a hole in my body that ripped through my skin - an open wound.
"Unfortunately so, Sohma-san." He said it softly, then turned and walked out the door - shutting it quietly. My hand was left numb, and my chest was cold. When he closed the door, the feeling of the hole in my body faded. But I knew it was there now. The hole let me know that I could keep something else, something more then what I had could fit.
Others I knew that have 'Talents' talk about a hole in their chest or body where they pull their power from. I guess I could believe I had one, but I knew mine was almost empty. Did anyone else have a hole in their chest that could hold power but wasn't full?
I slowly sat back down in my set, my arm and chest still numb. I wrapped my arms around myself and rubbed as hard and as quickly as I could. The blood was now dry on my face was had probably stained my skin a light pink. I now had an assignment from some guy who could open a hole in my body that you couldn't see with your eyes and freeze me in my place. And later tonight I was going hunting for a shifter that I couldn't kill with him.
It was too God damn early for this.
When the numbness started to wear off I looked through the papers again. Yosuki Sigo - the shifter I was going to hunt - was the only one in his entire family who had something wrong with him. Supposedly a lycanthrope wall on a police raid of an illegal lycan fighting arena scratched him. Lycan arenas have started to become bigger and nastier, so the cops had started coming to us in order to shut them down. Apparently Sigo was the last casualty that pushed the police into asking for our help. Sigo had lost his job and became a wereleopard, then split. His family wanted him back. His totally human family wanted him back. That's a lot of love right there. Most families drop their loved-one-turned-furry.
A mug of black coffee was placed on top of the papers, effectively breaking my concentration. I followed the hand up to find one of my coworkers grinning down at me.
"Would you look at that..." Sean said, speech tinted with an English accent. There was a grin on his face that showed all his teeth. " ...Kyo's working before 12. It's a record."
"Shut up." I growled up at him, snatching the black coffee off the papers and taking a delicious sip. I live off of coffee. I'm surprised that when I get cut I don't gush the black stuff.
"Who was the ghost that walked out of here?" He asked, taking the seat Yosuki had just left. His bright green eyes, light skin, and golden blond hair pinpointed him as a foreigner right away. His main of wheat color hair was chopped close to his head and spiked with gel that made his hair look darker then I knew it was. His forest green eyes sparkled in his slightly tanned face, and freckles dotted his nose and cheeks. When he stood next to me, my hair looked like a bright orange flame. He was one of the only foreigners I liked - he had a good taste in music.
"Yosuki Atsuo, age 26. At least that's what this says." I ignoring the file and leaned back in my chair, taking another sip of my coffee. I stared hard at the last peace of paper Yosuki had pressed down on my desk, deciding to look at it for a surprise later on. He gave me a look and leaned back in his chair.
"You don't believe him?" He sipped his coffee to, and hummed happily into the cup. If anything at SCO made it's employees happy, it was the coffee.
"Nope. He's older the 26, but everything else is in order so...no back up checks. He has to know how we work if he know that without the paper work we do checks..." I put my coffee down and sighed, closing the folder. Sean stood up and I followed.
"Well damn." He said in English, stepping out into the tiled hallway. I thanked Sean a few times for teaching me curses in other languages. I could curse in Spanish, Italian, Chinese, Indian, French, and English. I'm multilingual, but English was still my favorite cursing language. For some reason it sounded better. I'm just weird that way.
The hallway - hell, all the rooms were exactly the same as mine. But unlike other offices, we had a kitchen area. Sean stepped into it first, and I followed. It was like waling through a doorway of water - the power in the room was thick. Of course, the entire SCO employs were sitting in here, drinking their morning-...well, afternoon coffee.
Unlike all the other times I stepped into the same room with the others, I felt the power hole in my chest. It took me a second to step over the pressure when I pushed myself into the room, and the humming continued at the bottom of the hole - making my small amount of power bubble. There were now five men standing/sitting in the small kitchen with power beating all around us - and I happen to be the only one without strong power. I felt it beat inside the power hole, but my power didn't answer. It couldn't answer, I barley had any.
SCO - or The Sohma Company - was the name of the company I worked for, and it was family owned and run. Mostly everyone in my family had some type of power passed to them from generation to generation, getting stronger and stronger every year. I happen to be the only exception to this happening that I know of. I can feel the dead moving, and track things that have any type of power. That's it. Sad but true.
The only outsider we had was Sean, but he made up for it in his own way. He was something called a Sniper. He could call bolts of black power from his hands and send them flying toward a target, and he could freely target something miles away without a scope - his eyes could focus on something that far away. None of his personal gun's had scopes on them, and he needed no time to aim - it was natural. Most of the time Sean was called for special situations with the police under the table.
He transferred here from either California or New York - some big city in the US- about two years ago for reasons still unknown to us, and he's our residential technical and weapons specialist - his main area, as you could guess. He's a skilled assassin, but he's not truthfully written down in Japan as a Sniper - so he's assigned office duty. He makes appointments with law firms and the police for rides or court explanations, as well as doing left over kills that the rest of us can't get to. He's happy with it though, and it's not like he isn't paid well.
At five foot seven Sean was tall - two inches taller then me - but not as tall as Yukari. Sean wasn't as skilled either, but most of his clients came back with friends or relatives. Most of the time we don't have to see our clients before we start the hunt because they call in. Dealing with the calls is a little hard, but for Sean you didn't have to figure out which 'Dekoura' a person wanted. The rest of us are Sohma's, so we are described by hair color; Orange, black, white, or violet.
Yukari had the violet hair that was cut short around his head, leaving little bangs that fell over his eyes. His eyes were ocean blue and trapped behind a constant pair of reading glasses. His face was soft and round, his shoulders broad. His frame was skinny and thin, his limbs long. A white colored dress shirt was buttoned up all the way, the sleeves rolled up to he elbows wall exposing the paleness of his arms and the horizontal knife wounds on both of his wrists. I knew for a fact that Yukari and a few long blade marks that dragged down his back that made not wearing a shirt in public a little uncomfortable. I also knew he had a hole in his leg from a hand - that in itself is a long story. Yet brown dress pants covered his legs and brown dress shoes fit his feet. He looked very professional sitting next to Haru, who was dressed like a business man after a fight - but I knew for a fact that Yukari could get down and dirty like the best of us.
Yukari was what you would call a Speaker, thus the reason for the scars across him wrists. They were self-inflected, but it was the only way he could call his ability's. It was common for Speakers to look like they tried multiple attempts at suicides, and once you inherit the special skill and hone them it's hard to find a normal job. Hell, anyone who was vaguely like what we are wouldn't be able to find another job with the amount of scars we have. But because Yukari has to walk the line between life and death every time he channels his ability doesn't help him. Being a Speaker allows a person to talk to ghosts, and allows one to pull soul back to a body or steal the soul's energy. But in order to pull a soul back or talk to ghosts, your blood is needed in order to talk and move them. Thus, the reason for the cuts on his wrists.
Haru did wear a white colored dress shirt; only he left it totally unbuttoned to show his white undershirt as well. The dress shirt was wrinkled and hand blotches or dried blood at the coroner on the bottom - plain gray splotches. The fact that his black dress pants were spotted with mud, and there was crosses of dried gray blood stuck to his face and had soaked through his t-shirt over his heart let me know he hadn't gone home yet - or had a shower. Haru's hair was split into two colors, black and white. The white part sat on top like he canopy of a mushroom, fluffy and disheveled. His black hair started just under the mushroom cut in the back and was tied into a small ponytail a few inches long.
Knife marks ran across his left wrist only and most likely cut into the palm of his left hand. His collarbone just under the place where most dress shirts start was covered in white scar marks. Hatsuharu was another resident assassin, and one of my two favorite partners. Haru was also a-
"Your in early..." Yukari's voice was rough and edgy, but I guessed that before he sat down and had coffee it was worse. I grinned and took a set on the counter on the left side of the sink. Aah...The 12 O'clock Coffee Break.
The room was the same gray and white colors, but the cabinets broke it up. The counter top and cabinets were a pail blue and sat in the corner near the door. Our mugs and knives and extra clothes were stored in the kitchen area in bins that sat in the other corner on the wall the sinks sat on. Sitting across from the sink was the table at which Yukari and Haru sat, the 4 chairs that circled around the square black and iron table. Another chair sat near the door, and one next to the fridge. The table was black and white marble to which we constantly compared Haru's hair, and knife marks made the once flat and smooth tabletop ridged around the edges. The corner of the square table was pushed into the corner of the room and made it hard for all five of us to sit at once. Hell, it made it hard for three of us to sit there at once.
A coffee maker sat next to me, and next to that sat a fridge. The fridge was white and blocked my view of the bins of our stuff, but it healed our coffee beans and lunches. There was a stove directly next to the door, then some counter space until the sink. That part of the counter was always covered in a cloth where weapons were placed wall being cleaned after a hunt. The coffee maker was bubbling like it should, and I sighed into my cup - taking a sip.
"Early appointment." I finally answered, leaning back again the cabinets.
"And you actually showed. I'm impressed." Shigure mentioned off hand from his positing standing. He was leaning up against the wall, bemused look on his face - holding a cup of coffee. His gray dress shirt had a tie looped in the collar, the yellow making his chocolate brown eyes stand out. His black dress slacks were crisp and ironed, his black dress shoes sparkling clean.
Shigure was the strongest person in the room, and we all knew it. The power that breathes lightly off of myself and heavily off the others was various degrees of cold, but Shigure's strength was warm - and it made all the difference. Not one of us ever went up against Shigure - power, or 'magic' wise- because if his power as strong as he was, we would be in trouble. If he wanted to, Shigure could push an 18-wheeler over without breaking a sweat.
He was the boss - the greedy money-grubbing bastard, and a lycanthrope. An Alpha werewolf to be exact. Most people fear lycan's because it's kind of like a disease that others can get, so most people who are a were-anything have a hard time getting a job. It's illegal to discriminate against lycans, but it happens. There aren't too many here in Japan - beside for the travelers, and they only come when the full moon was a week or two away- but the one's that are here tend to keep up the human appearance and just 'play' human. Most of them are good at it - Shigure happens to be very good - while others aren't very good. It's their beast that's the problem.
I've seen Shigure's chocolate eyes turn golden, and I've seen his entire body covered in the same black shade of his hair. Shigure is still a beast, but he has embraced his inner wolf and lived with it. So did we all.
And I think it was because Shigure was a lycanthrope that he started SCO, even though he's not an assassin of the undead or furry. He's a brilliant businessman, but knowledge won't give you the ability to kill your own kind. Shigure could howl and call all of his power that he wanted, but at the end of the night he wouldn't find shit. Vamps smell like death, but there's death all over the city. Shifters smell like animals, but they're all over the city too. He's great for night hunts and strong enough to fight, but most fights between shifter end in death and he would die if a vamp bit him. So instead he's the glorious businessman that run's the company.
It was because rare talents run through the Sohma family that he and Yukari started the business 8 years ago - fifteen years after Shigure was scratched. They weren't very big until I came into my little tracking powers, and from that we shifted into vamps as well as shifters. They collected Haru two years after me, and Sean the year after him. We were all in our 20's except Shigure, who was pushing 35.
"You should be." I finally responded to him, sipping my coffee again. I am not a morning person, despite the fact that it was 12 in the afternoon. I haven't had a wink of sleep for hours, so leave me alone. I sighed.
"Did you mark the appointment in your book?" Sean asked, leaning up against the counter top near the stove. Both of us looked out of place in our jeans and T's. Sean had me looking more and more like one of his friends back home - matching my shirt to my eyes, even though I couldn't see the color. I was slowly gaining a fashion sense...humph.
"No. I wrote it on my hand." I took another sip and rolled my head back and forth. My muscles we aching like crazy. Haru and me had pulled the all-nighter together, and it was taking beating on my neck. I almost broke it last year when a vampire threw me out of a window on a job. The same vamp tried to see if he could dissect my hand with shards of glass. 2 surgeries and some physical therapy later, I still had my hand (If you could call it that) and I could still move the rest of my body. Lucky me.
"Make sure you don't loose it then." Haru finally spoke up, a grin on his face. Though Haru hadn't been my back up with that one incident, it didn't take long for everyone else on the team to know that I had been chained down and had my hand dissected, walling at the top of my lungs for more. That one experience proved to me that if a vampire takes your mind they could make you want anything. I glared at him.
"As long as you don't 'accidentally' rip it off me, I'll be fine." I grinned at him, letting the smile light my eyes. He glared.
"Boy's." Yukari said lowly, putting his mug down. "You're both tired. Go home and get some sleep."
I snorted. " Yeah right. I have a shit load of paper work to go through, then appointments."
"I'll take some appointments tonight." Sean offered, swirling the coffee in his yellow mug. He shrugged at me then. "Can't take the paper work though."
We both looked at Shigure, who was looking down at his coffee like it was his life. I felt myself growl.
"Shigure, damn it." I slipped off the counter and put my mug down with a clink. I threw a line of power at him and grabbed onto his energy and pulled, making his head jerk toward me - what I normally did when tracking openly. His chocolate eyes were narrowed when he looked at me.
"Sure you can go home." He smiled then, eyes closed and genuine. I knew it was a lie, and that something would happen if I did. I turned toward the door without as looking back and was half way through it when he said something.
"-I'll just count it as a vacation day." The bastard whispered. I told you he was a basted! Damnit.
I pivoted on my heels and stalked back to my mug, hopping up on the counter and grabbing it as the same time. I settled myself against the blue doors and sighed into the cup of the now cooling coffee. I was too tired to fight with him for now, and as long as they shut up I could Zen myself enough to pretend I was getting rest-
"How did it go last night?" Sean's voice was too loud for my taste. I knew he was directing the question at Haru - blood splattered and all. I cleaned myself up already. Haru had a habit of walking around covered in blood.
"Good enough for a normal LVE kill." Haru's voice was soft, but chesty. He didn't like talking about the time on a job more then I did, maybe even less.
LVE is short for a Licensed Vampire Executioner, or executioners. They- like the title says- killed vamp legally. SCO was a company that had 4 listed Executioners on its roster, and we were damn good. There were rules to killing, of course, like the vamp needed 5 human kill's - not Turns, kills - in order to be hunted and executed. LVE were also strapped to jurisdictions, so in Haru's case he was an LVE-Jap1-4 - A licensed vamp killer for all the 4 quarters of Japan.
The country was split up into 4 quarters; the lower you go, the higher number. Haru was licensed in all 4 quarters, as was Sean. The two of them worked well enough together for protruding the section we lived in - the second quarter- and they were considered the best in this quarter. Rank was all that mattered in the quarters in Japan.
Here - in Japan - LVE's are ranked by their stationary and their moving kills; Stationary during the day and moving at night. The higher your moving kill was, the higher rank you had. The more stationary kills you had, the lower you ranked. The further away your two numbers were, the better you were considered. Though stationary kills are easier - they're seen as un-noble for most LVE's. Most LVE's kills were balanced with more day kills then night kills, but it was different with Haru.
Haru was ranked 1st for the second quarter of Japan for moving kills, and dead last for stationary. He was listed 8th for moving kills in all of Japan, and 12th for stationary.
Sean was pretty much the same. Ranked 3rd for moving kills and 2nd for stationary in the second quarter of Japan, wall ranked 12th for moving kills and 8th for stationary in all of Japan. But they weren't the only one's who got to have all the fun.
Yukari and I were part of the LIVE's, or the Licensed International Vampire Executions. Jurisdictions don't mean squat to us, so our kills can come from any country, anywhere. Were centralized in Japan though, so our cards say LIVE-Jap, licensed traveling vamp killers who come from Japan. Simple really.
Yukari's 2nd in over all Japan ranking for both moving and stationary kills, and I'm 3rd. The only reason he's ahead of me is because he passed the age you needed to be in order to take the test a few years before me. I was catching up on him though. I think the only reason Haru and Sean were ranks so high was because they were invited along with me and Yukari on our own kills. The two LVE's weren't old enough to take the test yet - Haru's 23rd birthday was coming through.
"Kyo!" I jumped and slid off the counter in a fluid movement, crouching down in a good enough stance to draw a gun - witch I didn't have. Haru stood across the room, a passive smile on his face and a red-gray sack over his shoulder - his change of clothes. Everyone else had cleared out of the room, the mugs in a group on the table. One of Haru's long fingers was touching the very tip of his nose, and his smile widened when I noticed.
I stood up slowly, my heartbeat slightly quicker then normal. I must of reached my Zen zone...I didn't even hear them leave. I was glaring at Haru, who continued to smile.
"Mug's are yours, and Sean is taking your last two shifts." Humor was laced in his voice, his finger never leaving the tip of his nose. Last one to touch the tip of their nose cleaned up; kinda childlike, but we're all just little boy's in grown up's body's. Reluctantly I touched the top of my nose and Haru dropped his hand, laughing silently as he walked out of the kitchen.
"Hurray..." I mumbled to no one while I grabbed the mugs off the table and deposited them in the kitchen with a none to friendly sound. Laughter echoed around the office. Damnit, I hated working with family.
I slammed the door of my office closed and caught a glance of myself. Claw marks trailed down my right bicep and wrapped around my arm until my elbow. I had 146 stitches close that up, and I thanked God that the muscle hadn't ripped and that I didn't turn furry when the next full moon came. Normally I don't fight with most Lycanthropes or Therianthropes - the technical name for shifters, but sometimes vamps to defend them when asleep call them. The scars on my right arm were from a lycan - a werelion. She was the first werelion I ever met, and unfortunately she died with her master. Glass and surgical knives pretty much equally scared my left arms.
I dropped my gaze down to my left hand - it was truly mangled. White scare tissue crossed over the back of my hand in a 8 pointed star that was all lines and didn't connect except for the very middle point. The points continued around to the palm of my hand, cutting through my fingers wherever they wanted. Each one of the folds in my hand had been cut by a peace of glass by a master vampire - who was pissed at me for killing his flunkies. He was also the one who threw me out the window. He escaped from us that night, but two weeks later I shot him in the face with my left hand, then I happily watched the bastard burn.
I know I'm a sick bastard as well, but I've never tortured anyone other then that one master vamp - like torturing one thing doesn't mark me as a monster. My karma will smack me in the face later on for that, but truthfully it was worth it. I hate being tortured. Nothing will put you on my shit list faster then torturing me, and then I'll kill you. Simple as that. I'm their karma, and I don't really care if it will kill me in the end.
I dropped into my chair and stared at the vast amount of paperwork that Yosuki gave me. I checked the clock that hung over the door and noted that it was 12:30 am. Golly-freaken'-hurray. I had less then 8 hours until my first appointment. I leaned back in my chair and kicked my feet up on my desk and sighed. I lightly wondered what it was like outside - we were in a basement office, fitting for an Executioner company.
I wondered for a moment what day it was. Time is really irrelevant to me. All I need to know is if it's dark to work. I knew it was some time in spring because I noted the cherry blossom trees were in bloom on the kill last night. I let my eyes drift closed.
The kill last night had been easy enough that I let Haru take control of the situation. Two vamps - male and female - fled from their kiss and slaughtered an entire block. We managed to catch them in the act of killing a mother of two sons and destroyed them. We were able to burn one of them in time before the sun came up, but the other burnt with the morning rays. I didn't feel a drop of pity for it.
It... Like it had never been human in the first place. But you need to forget that those things once had souls, they once had lives. If you don't, you go crazy. You can't think of dead bodies or walking corpses animated by magic as people - they're things. You don't want to know if they ever had families - children and a husband or a wife. If they were getting married next month or next week, if they're two classes away from finishing their English degree. They need to become meat, or you drive yourself insane.
I am saved from one part of that insanity - I didn't dream of blood, and I couldn't if I wanted to. I would go to a room where I knew people had been killed and torn apart, and the room would only be painted in gray - not red. I've dreamed of floating in a vast ocean of gray, but it's not the same. I know that one day I'll be able to see that color again, and that day I will loose it. I have a lot of gray on my hands, and I fear the day it turns red.
So in a way I don't bleed. Nothing will suck anything gray from my body, and nothing will stab me until gray soaks my shirt. And just knowing that I'm relieved that can't see blood makes me feel like a total monster.
If you were to ask me if I knew who the monsters are - if they were the vamps of zombies or whatever, I would tell you I have an idea. Anyone who kills's another without a valid reason is a monster, weather they enjoy the killing or not. Food is not valid, nor is greed. Self-defense I could allow, but then most of the monsters would cry self-defense. One who contributes to needless death and torture is a monster.
Shigure isn't a monster - though some people disagree. Any lycan is a monster to those people, and in a way so am I. I've killed so many things for justice, so in a way I am a monster. I have 54 vamp kills under my belt nation wide, and for only being a LVE for 3 years that ain't too damn bad. I'm one of the best gray-coated monsters out there.
The phone in my office rung in a quiet little jingle, making my groggy eyes open. I blinked and found Haru relaxing in the chair across from me, legs crossed at the ankles and hands behind his head. He had changed out of his dirty white undershirt into a black one, and black new jeans covered his legs. His eyes were closed lightly, mouth slightly open in sleep. His face was clean and pale.
I glanced at the clock as I grabbed the phone - ceasing its jingle. It was 4: 45, and I felt myself grin. Every once in a while, a 4-hour nap is very nice.
I spoke in hushed tones with a lawyer who had a client convicted of murdering a young woman. The murdered young woman happened to be a vamp. She wanted to know if I would be able to come to the courtroom and tell the jury how you would go about killing a vampire, and weather or not anything would hurt them. Normal people tend to be ignorant about theses things.
"How long would the questioning be?" I asked, forcing the grogginess out of my voice. I hadn't slept in my bed for more then an hour this week. I could hear it calling to me all the way from my apartment now. I forced the thought of home away and focused on what she was saying, on work. I could survive on 4-hour naps like a pro.
"Only a half an hour, a full hour tops. We really need you for this Sohma." Sara Kimihiro worked a law firm that used SCO as it's major informant on killing vampires or shifters, or an interpreter on how shifters/vamps would kill/eat/turn a person. For some reason I was their firm's favorite informant, but then again most of the layers who called me were female. Flattered? Slightly.
"How'd they kill her?" I pulled a blank corners report out of the top filing cabinet draw and close it quietly, writing in the vic's info that Sara gave me.
"Four blessed stake wounds to the hands and feet. She was hung on a cross and left for morning." Oh, yummy. That's always a fun way to be sacrificed... I nodded to myself and wrote it down.
"No problem then, I'll d o it for you. Price is the same as always; just get it in before tomorrow morning. You know how Shigure pulls a fit."
"I do indeed." I heard the smile in her voice. Sara was a nice enough girl, but she liked boys with money. Her and Shigure had gone out for a while, but it never affected the relationship with the law firm. As long as I brought in money, Gure was fine with me working with them.
"I can get to you at...7 -no, make it 6 to be safe." I had a feeling that the Yosuki tracking was going to take a wile. The part of me that let me track things told me that - it agreed with my gut and my brain this time. Surprise, surprise.
"Why so early for me Kyon? Normally I get like...11 o'clock or something." He voice was sweet, but I knew she was grinning evilly. I shook my head.
"I only have one other job tonight. You get the early one, but its still second priority. I am giving myself time to get ready for the first job, so could we speed the questioning up a little?" I hear her sigh when I said it. I was starting to grin. I caught Haru's bleary eyes staring at me from across my desk. It made my grin grow.
"Oh poo. Aah well; I can get the judge and jury together by 6 no problem. Why you closing up shop so early today?" Yes, I would call Sara a friend. Not a close one, but close enough to talk to. She's a little nosey, but she's golden hearted. The worst thing she's ever see is me show pictures of a decapitated half-shifted werewolf, and that's saying a lot compared to what lives in Tokyo - in Japan...
"No, but I'm beat twelve ways till Thursday. Did you really just say 'Oh, poo'? How old are you?" The 'Oh, poo' comment got me a weird look from Haru, who was cracking his back and getting himself comfortable in the chair again.
"You should not ask a lady her age. It's rude." He voice was snobby. I grinned.
"Sorry. Forgot you was a lady."
"Yeah, sorry. Forgot you were a bastard." She shot back, and I could hear her grinning again.
"Funny. Now what court house do you want me to be at?" I asked, and she told me. I wrote it on top of the corner's sheet.
"You sure you're taking the rest of the night off?" She asked again, and I leaned back in my chair - putting my feat up again.
"Yea, but I'm going home after I see you guy's. I haven't slept in a few days. I need a bed and a good shower." I yawned to accent the statement, and Haru mumbled 'Amen to that.'
"Sure you don't want to accompany me to Noel's? I'll buy..." This happened every time I talked to women from this damned firm. I haven't met a man that works with them yet, but I'm afraid for any man that does. The girls were sex starved. I shook my head, even though she couldn't see.
"No. I'll pass on drinks tonight, but thanks. I'm going home to bed."
"Sure you don't need company?"
"No, and I don't need anyone to help me undress either. So don't even ask." Haru gave me an odd look.
"Fine. Spoil sport."
"See you tonight Sara." I hung up on her, and sighed. Haru was grinning at me, and I just glared at him - trying very hard not to smile.
"How come you always get the girls?" He asked, standing up and cracking his back again. The scar's that marred his collarbone showed up better when he was wearing black, but he made no effort to hide them. I guess that once you get gnawed on by a vampire you kinda want to show off the fact that you lived through it. Kind of like a bullet wound from combat. I felt the same way - I only showed off the scars that would be acceptable to show in the work place. I had a pretty cool knife wound that cut across my last pair of abs, but I needed low riding pants and a shirt that was to short in order to show them. I may dress down in the office, but that's a little to dressed down.
I stretched my arms over my head and cracked my back as well. I yawned again and scratched the back of my head - mussing my hair up more so it stuck up in those awkward angles short hair likes to stick up in. I let one eye sag half way closed wall the other one stayed open - and I did my best not to grin.
"Cuz they like me more." I said simply, my smile coming back in full force.
"That's hard to believe." He smiled back, putting his hands in his black pair of jeans. I noted his Browning safely tucked into the holster on his left side, and the knives that sat in their black sheathe on each of his calves. The sheaths are pure black, and only the silver glint of the hilt told me that the knives were tucked in place. The gun was most likely locked and fully loaded with our specially made vamp killing ammo - Silver billets made from melted down blesses crosses, full of holey water. Truthfully, the bullets will work on both and vamp and a shifter, but they're expensive. 'Save the bullets for dangerous times only,' Shigure had told us, 'Knives are cheaper to replace then a box of the holey bullets.'
"You on your way to a kill?" I asked the stupid question. No one was ever dressed in weapons if they' weren't going out. He put his hand on the butt of the gun and the other on his waist.
"Nope, just seeing how they make me look in this outfit." He gave me a flat look and checked the clock. "Can you give me a ride?"
I checked the clock to, finally grabbing the folded peace of paper that Yosuki had pressed onto my desk. It released with a flutter of his old magic that made the hole in my chest feel like it was numbing again. It actually made me look down at me chest to see if the hole was there. There was nothing.
"Sure, I'll give you a ride." I yanked my gaze from my chest and pulled open the top draw, yanking out my ring of keys and my wallet. I slipped the wallet in the back of my pants and closed the draw. Upon opening the second draw, I pulled out my holster and secured it over my shirt, letting the uncomfortable feeling of wearing a shoulder holster and a short-sleeved shirt sooth me. It's something normal.
A quick trip to the locked bins in the kitchen to grab my baby - a 44. Remington Magnum, and my two other appendages - my knives. One was a short silver blade with a grove down the middle. The blade was about as long and my hand -from the bottom of my palm to the tip of my middle finger. It's a regular knife with a simple black handle and a plain leather sheath. It slips on to my semi-intact left forearm, and it's the best throwing knife I've ever had.
The other one is an fully black blade that's as long as my forearm. The knife - or short sword -sits on my left calf for and easy cross draw. The hilt of the knife was leather-bound and fit easily into my hand. It slid into my hand like it belonged there, my fingers fitting into normal groves they made in the leather. I strapped the both into their respective places on my body and felt totally comfortable and quite confident in myself. I was a very good shot with both my hands - despite the fact that the skin on the palm of my left hand split every time I healed the gun - and the same goes for my aim with the smaller knife. I was practicing with my short sword in some spar time by myself, and I'm getting pretty good ant swinging that around like I knew what I was doing.
Me and Haru slid into my Jeep 4x4 a little after 5 and made my way toward the Tokyo courthouses, dropping Haru off near Noel's before making my way there. I hoped with all my heart that tonight would be and easy tracking, and I could go home before anything bad really happened. I really did not want to interact with anything that goes bump in the night - vampires being at the top of my list.
Unfortunately, my wish would not be granted....
(End of Chapter One)
Ranting: Well this is the new fic. Hope I caught your interest, and I hope some people tell me to continue.
Date finished: August 24th, 2004.
Date Edited: October 8th, 2004. 7:20 p.m.
Ja!
SAL-Chan