The city lights glinted off the bay, making the ocean glow with the brightness of New York City. The sky was only just beginning to lighten, but the sun was far from rising.
Faline stared out over the bustling expanse that was her hometown, still restless even at 5:30 in the morning. Her sky blue eyes, the same color as the harbor in the dim light, scanned the waters of the Atlantic Ocean, just a few blocks from the rooftop she stood on now. She wondered, not for the first time, what was beyond the horizon, just a plane's ride over, just a hop, skip, and a jump away.
Of course, she'd probably never find out. Not with everything in her life keeping her pinned to this hell she somehow called her life, unable to explore.
She sighed, blowing the air out of her lungs slowly, clenching the silver chain in her fist tighter. The amulet dangling on the end seemed to gleam with the slightest movement, the kanji engraved on its smooth silver surface:
豹
Carefully, Faline untwirled the necklace from around her fingers, slipping the simple jewelry over her head, the pendant bouncing slightly against the stiff fabric of her high collared blouse as it came to rest on her chest. She straightened her name tag habitually, fingertips tracing the engraved F-A-L-I-N-E.
A voice, harsh and coarse from years of substance abuse, barked, "Faline! You wanna lose your job? Get in here, before you're late!"
Her breath hitched, both out of fear and yearning to just run, away from Connor, away from this apartment, away from her beloved hometown. She felt a tug at her heart as she walked toward the door that would lead downstairs, a longing to see the world, to explore everything that this world had to offer her.
She glanced out the doorway, at the lights reflecting off the bay, remembering when her mother had taken her to the docks, and told her about the boat she was hoping to save up for. The door was swinging closed now, cutting her revisiting of her memories short, and all she could think about was her mother's voice, as hopeful as her heart felt, looking over the ocean with her, promising to see the world with her.
And the door shut. The lights that glinted off the harbor were snuffed out by slowly-rotting wood attached to a rusty knob. And Faline closed her eyes, taking another cleansing breath as she stepped lightly down the stairs, pushing her natural platinum bangs away from her eyes and keeping her blue orbs downcast when she saw Connor.
"Quit daydreaming," her older brother snapped, grabbing her roughly by the arm. "You've got work to do."
Faline tried not to wince as he tightened his grip on her already-bruised bicep. Connor practically dragged her to their shared apartment, throwing the door open. Faline wrinkled her nose as a series of scents greeted her - unwashed clothes, rotting food on dirty plates, the smoke wafting from the weed Connor had just undoubtedly smoked. He coughed while he snatched her backpack and a random coat off the rickety coat hanger, throwing both back at her.
"Get going," he spat, "and don't be late to the diner. I don't want you coming home jobless."
He slammed the door, making Faline flinch. She closed her eyes to reign in the feelings of hatred and fury that bubbled to the surface for a split second, her hands subtly shaking in after-shock. Then she shouldered her bag and strode toward the stairs.
Walking out into the crisp early morning, she was greeted by the muddled conversations of passersby, and engines roaring as cars zoomed by. Faline allowed the hostile thoughts to fade into the crevices of her mind, promising herself not to revisit them until after work and school. For the first time, she actually observed her jacket, which turned out to be an over-sized black sweatshirt. She shrugged, not all that picky when it came to what kept her warm, pausing to sweep the hoodie over her head and then merging back into the small crowd of early-risers, repositioning bobby pins to keep her ridiculously straight her in its neat bun.
Faline's feet worked on autopilot, directing her along the same route she'd taken for two years while she got ready on the go. Checking her backpack, she found her calculator and English notebook missing. No big deal, just remain oblivious during class and relearn the entire lesson tonight. After work. At one in the morning.
Her heart sank a bit when she realized there was no lunch either - not a surprise, but she was getting tired of living off the water and bag of chips she'd been able to buy with the tips she'd scrounged up from the diner. She zipped up the bag, slinging it over her shoulder and letting the concern of good food slip into the pile of other things she wouldn't let herself think about.
The blonde walked into the diner, smiling for the first time since her day started when she spotted the man at the counter.
"Hey Harvey," she greeted, hopping over the counter and grabbing the spare apron off the hook near the register.
"Derrickson," her employer greeted in his usual gruff tone, pointing with his chin in the direction of the kitchen. "I'm guessin' you didn't have breakfast again, right?"
"You don't need to keep giving me-"
"I won't have my waitress starving to death. Eggs and bacon are on the stove," he interrupted, waving her away and continuing to wipe down the counter as the first customer walked in.
The remnant of a grin on her lips, she pushed through the door, setting her backpack in the corner and heating up her meal. Bacon grease popped and sizzled as she tied her apron around her slim waist, taking a bit of time to adjust the band-aids over her heels (unwelcome necessities, unfortunately - she was long overdue for a new pair). Checking her reflection in the concave frying pan, swaying above the stove, she was relieve to find that the long bangs falling from her otherwise pristine updo seemed to obscure any... deformities of her cheekbone.
After wolfing down the eggs, Faline walked out of the kitchen, bacon in hand, to see Harvey had already taken the customer's order at the counter. He turned to Faline, handing her the notepad and ballpoint pen, and grunting, "Next customer's all yours."
She nodded, nibbling a bit on the bacon as she tucked the notepad into the pocket of her apron. "Thanks."
He nodded curtly, pausing for a moment before his hand flew up to brush against her jawline.
"And if you wanna hide those bruises," he commented under his breath, "try actually covering 'em up with makeup or somethin'. High-collars and me hair ain't gonna hide what Connor's doing to ya for long."
Perfect. It seemed the long bangs weren't going to do the trick after all.
His hand dropped, and he shuffled into the kitchen, leaving Faline shocked and gingerly touching the mark on her jawline, her eyes filled with dread and shame, as she tried to yank her shirt higher to cover the bruise.
She knew Harvey pretended to have no heart, no empathy for the world outside himself. She also knew that her request to keep her dealings with Connor secret was tearing him apart inside. What sane person wouldn't be troubled by their employee walking in more scarred than the day before?
Hopefully the fact that she was turning eighteen soon was consolation enough for him. Faline didn't have the time, money, or patience to deal with an abuse lawsuit. And frankly, she couldn't see the reasoning behind fighting against the inevitable. She would endure Connor for a few more months, and then it was off across the sea, across the world.
Besides, Connor was family. The only family she had left.
She'd have to start saving up for concealer so someone else wouldn't take notice and alert the authorities.
Taking a deep breath, Faline turned to see another man walk into the diner, clothed in black business clothes. She tried to push the panicked thoughts of her injury back, adding them to the pile of other things she ignored, and tread over to the man.
She caught sight of the mottled scars lacing his scalp as she drew near. Compassion bubbled up inside her - it wasn't uncommon to meet the occasional victim of some tragic accident. There were all kinds of people milling about New York, she knew.
Whipping out her trusty notepad and clicking her ballpoint pen into readiness, she offered up a cheerful smile - one that didn't truly belong to her.
"Hi, welcome to Harvey's Diner. What can I get you?"
"Your name." The man's voice rang deep, ominous, like the kind of voice you heard just before the scary music started to play in a horror movie. "What is it?"
"Faline, sir," she reported with increasing wariness, unsure whether he could see the name card pinned to her shirt.
The man glanced up, and Faline's empathy vanished. Gone were any thoughts that this man had been a helpless victim to some tragic event. His eyes were mismatched, one glowering while the other stared blindly at her - the obvious result of a blade's met target. A gruesome scar snaked its way down his forehead, between his brows, slicing his face into two halves - one that almost looked normal, and the other sinewy, dark purple, with skin barely hiding the scarred tissue beneath it.
"Your whole name," he persisted, his deep and ominous voice cutting through her and freezing her heart in fear-induced ice.
"I'm only obligated to give you my first name." It was becoming increasingly difficult to sustain the unnatural grin pulling at the corners of her mouth.
He released her when his gaze lowered back to scanning the menu, allowing Faline to drop her fake-happiness for a split second to collect herself. When his eyes landed on her once more, her focus was on scrawling idle notes onto her notepad.
"I'll have the suppon nabe." The request came out of the blue, puzzling the blonde and making her glance up warily.
Suppon nabe. Definitely not something one would typically order at an American diner. Her brain began connecting cultural dots, taking in the uninjured parts of the man's appearance, the foreign order.
Japanese. Her mind clicked, and then was flooded with unwelcome memories of her mother teaching her bits of the language, of learning culture norms and practices. All in the blink of an eye.
"I'm sorry sir," she apologized in what she hoped was an airy tone, "We don't serve turtle soup at Harvey's."
His glare remained on her, unrelenting. Trying to search for some recognition in her eyes that obviously wasn't there.
"Do I know you?" Faline asked hesitantly, surprised when the strange man looked taken aback. "You act as if you've met me before."
"If we had met before, you would remember."
It seemed more of a threat than a general statement. Faline took a subconscious step backward, her hand clinging nervously to the pendant tied 'round her neck as her eyes darted momentarily to the kitchen, where Harvey still resided.
The man's eyes traveled down, eyes honing in on the symbol her fingers fiddled with, and he was suddenly on his feet. The sudden action made Faline jump back a bit, holding her notepad and pen at her sides.
"Nevermind," the man backtracked, eyes sweeping over each and every one of Faline's facial features one last time. "I've suddenly lost my appetite."
He hurried past her, shoving the door open and hurrying out into the street, only faintly hearing the waitress call behind him in strained happiness, "Have a nice day..."
Rather than disappearing into the swelling mob of pedestrians, the man strode purposely into the back alley across the streets, the traffic lights and neon signs seeming to bend around him, like he himself had become a shadow.
It wasn't five seconds before he began using the darkness to his advantage. He melded with the shortening silhouettes of the buildings, using the fading blackness as his mode of transportation until he reached what he deemed to be sanctuary, deep within the city's cramped and tangled backroads and side streets.
The stranger strode reached into his pocket to retrieve a sleek black cell phone. He punched a few buttons, raising the phone to his ear and snapping in a hushed tone when someone on the other end of the line picked up, "Servant. Your repentance for your idiocy begins now. Alert Tiger Claw, ready the soldiers. I have a person of interest I'd like detained."