(Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran High School Host Club. I do own the plot of this story and all OCs.)

My name is Asame Okasawa. I am a thief for hire. My price is high, just like my satisfaction rate. I'm the best of the best. Ask me to steal the crown jewels, they'll be at your doorstep within a week. That's why when I got a certain request to steal something as small and insignificant as fashion designs from a competitor, I was slightly shocked…but only slightly.

It all started 3 and a half months ago, while I was in London. It was about one in the morning and I was running from a past client named Jack Holloway. He also happened to be a pervert. After denying his invitation to "get to know each other better", his words not mine, he sent his lackeys after me screaming something crazy about locking me up in his basement. Would it surprise you that the thing he asked me to do was hack into the police records and wipe his slate clean of child offender records? Sick bastard. But hey, he paid me three quarters of a mil for it. It's not like I could turn that down. After running for a few blocks the idiots decided to use their brain cells which wasn't so good for me. They chased me down a dead-end, using a stupid SUV. Basically there was no hope for escape unless I beat them to the ground with my fighting skills. Before I had even started to attack, one by one the lackeys fell to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Metal protruded from their necks. Dart gun. Not fatal. A dark figure steps out.

"Thanks for the help," I call out, pushing down any nervousness that tried to sneak past my wall of calm.

"Oh but of course. I can't stand to see a damsel in distress. Especially a girl who is going to help me," the deep voice chuckles, stepping out of the shadows to reveal a Japanese man in a tan fedora and trench coat. Cliché, I know, but things like this happened to me all the time. "Red Shadow. Name unknown, age estimated to be around 17 years old, gender female, every job is worth thousands of yen, she seems to know the polices' every move including traps to catch her, she can steal anything you ask for but the catch is that she sets the time frame," he spat out several pieces of information in Japanese.

"You've done your research I see. What do you want?" I eye the man wearily, pushing my hand through my bangs to get them out of my face. Just like all the other times though it just flings back into my eyes causing me to huff a bit.

"I need you to steal some designs from a competitor," he says bluntly. Well he got straight to the point…

"What designs would these be? Machine, weapon? I need to know everything you can tell me," I roll my eyes. He had to know how I worked if he knew as much personal information on me as the CIA themselves.

"Why don't we take a ride? My limo is across the street, we can talk more there," he commands more than asks. I shrug, following him as he walks with a purpose towards the sleek vehicle. If need be I had a gun in my boot. I slide into the black leather seat, making sure I was as close to the car door as I could be without looking like a criminal ready to break for it. Which I kind of was.

"So, you're the client?" I look straight at him, genuinely curious. Most of the time the clients would hire someone as to not threaten their safety. I had only done one assassination job in my life, you'd think I'd have more trust.

"No, my client wishes to remain anonymous," the man eyes me up, like I'll respond to that in some strange fashion. "Although they will contact you from time to time through this, it will be voice moderated of course," he hands me an expensive Android phone. Wow, they do mean business. Rich business.

"Alright, no problem there. What kind of designs am I stealing?" I prod further, taking out my trusty little notebook and pen tucked into my back pants pocket to write the info down.

"Clothing designs," he speaks monotonously, looking like the task was not even worth mentioning and that I should already know.

"Whoa whoa whoa… You want me, Red Shadow, to do something that even an amateur could do without slipping? You do realize I do serious—"

"My client would pay you 3 million yen for your troubles, with 1 million of that being paid up front," he interrupts. That shuts my complaining ass up.

"Wait, 3 mil?" I blink. "Listen man, I'd love to have 3 mil wired to my bank account as much as the next person, but isn't that a ton for some stupid clothes drawings? What's so special about these things? They need smuggled material or something?" As I'm babbling, the man hands me a check made out for 1 million yen. Holy shit.

"They are simply designs that will make my client's business fall apart," he grunts.

"Alrighty then. So who's the lucky fashion designer to be visited by the Red Shadow?" I smirk.

"Yuzuha Hitachiin."

(A/N: Hey everyone! I know, I know. I've been making a ton of changes. New author name, new images for stories, new improved chapters. It's a painful process, but in the end I want to clean up my entire fanfiction profile. This idea wouldn't leave me alone, so I started it. Don't expect daily updates or anything, but I will update at least once every week since I'm a lot less busy with life now! For those of you following IDAMTS, there is a new announcement so go check it out! As always, reviews are encouraged as they make my day sparkle! Favorites and follows are also appreciated! Kisses, Halfway-Insane)