Song Prompt: "A Little Bit Harder Now" – She Wants Revenge
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the published stories or characters I write about in my own work, nor do I make any profit from my writing.
The gun clicked as she squeezed the trigger and she sighed loudly, rolling her bright eyes, "Excuse me for a moment." A knee to the stomach forced her victim to double over heaving, and a crack on the back with her elbow dropped him to the filthy ground of the barn. "I'm terribly sorry, this usually doesn't happen." She pressed the thin heel of her stiletto into the back of his neck, the tip threatening to go straight through his airway if she lost her balance.
Agent gone rogue, Number Thirty-Six had erased herself from the ever-watchful eyes of her previous employer, descending to the underground to carry out her scheme: destroy Erwin Smith, the man responsible for who she was and had been trained to be since her miserable teens. She had to admit, it was a little ironic, but rather romantic in a way: what goes around comes around.
Planning and wily manipulation had led her to this pathetic little man—a skinny thing with a bad haircut—who was Smith's current second-in-command, Two. How in the hell this brat had received that sacred position baffled her.
"You're fortunate, Number Two." Thirty-Six flipped the gun back into the holster under her arm and pressed her heel harder on Two's neck in frustration. For all her cunning and preparation, she had forgotten extra bullets—a rookie mistake she was loathe to admit.
Two coughed into the dirt but didn't reply.
"I guess I have no choice." Thirty-Six released Two and she yanked him up against the wall, searching his face in the dim light with hard eyes. "Your death would have brought him straight to me." she hissed, venom flying from between her teeth. "Where is Smith?"
Unusually long black hair hung over Two's face and he struggled to look her in the eyes. "You think One would have come to take revenge for me? You must not know Smith as well as I thought." He rasped out, his voice deeper than she imagined.
Thirty-Six tightened her hold on his collar and slammed him into the wall again, the wood of the barn shivering. "You're a loyal dog. And from what I've heard, Smith likes to keep his pets on a short leash. Now talk."
A warbling sound escaped Two's cracked lips. "Loyal, eh?" He swallowed, watching her eyes follow his Adam's apple. "Kill me now and be done with it. I see your fingers itching for that knife."
She narrowed her eyes, hiding her surprise.
"Oh yes. The one on your thigh—ah, there it is."
Thirty-Six had instinctively shifted her leg, the slit of her dress widening to reveal said knife. Her eyes flashed.
"Go on." Two smirked. "Cut me loose from One's 'tight leash.' You'll be one step closer."
"Shut up." Thirty-Six snarled, and she swiped the knife from the sheath, holding it to Two's neck. "Enough of your sass or you will end up in pieces. Starting with those pretty little eyes of yours." Black met gray in a moment of intense greed. "Where is Smith?"
"Honestly, have you ever done this before?" Two sighed between breaths. "No wonder One wanted to terminate you—"
Thirty-Six almost slit his throat right then but she held back, drawing a small line of red across his smooth skin. "Answer me, Two." She gritted her teeth. The barn was beginning to get stuffy and her mood was deteriorating quickly.
"Why on earth would I divulge that information, to you, ah…what shall I call my assassin-to-be?" Two asked, sounding bored. "Besides, if you did your research like any good agent, you'd know I'm not the one to be interrogating."
Thirty-Six would not be swayed by the man's words, though a trickle of doubt bled into her mind. "I did my research, Two. You're the one closest to Smith. If I have you, I get him."
Two wheezed, an attempt at laughter. "Wrong. I expected better from you. A lot better."
A sudden twist of his foot hooked around her ankle and his hand shoved the knife away from his neck, freeing him from her hold. Thirty-six gasped in dismayed amazement at his rapid response and jumped back, all her training flying out the dirty window.
He dropped below her immediate eye level, spinning from her grasp, and sent a heavy fist to the base of her neck, causing her to drop the knife in shock, momentarily paralyzed. He caught it backhanded in midair and turned on his heel, the blade centimeters away from her heaving chest.
"You're fortunate. Thirty-Six." Two said, triumph in his voice. "Even if you are so foolish."
Thirty-Six stepped back, her eyebrows forced together and her eyes darting to the exit. Two wasn't supposed to be this good; he was supposed to have a desk job and play Smith's mewling secretary, not be this…man. He was a man, wasn't he? He was short and boyish-looking, and his face was young and free of lines. No matter. Foolish—a fitting word for her stupid behavior this entire night; she had been too eager. Two would kill her here and she'd never have her revenge. Unless she could reach for the second knife…
"Out of bullets, eh? I suppose I should be grateful. Now we have the chance to work together, rather than you getting your head blown off the second you step into One's office." He said from behind.
"Care to explain?" she spat, trying to play for time. Any minute that knife could plunge into her side…
"Like I said, we have the chance to work together. You obviously don't know me, do you…?" Two circled around, stopping to face her. The tip of the knife dragged across her chest and his elbow bent as he approached her, his gray eyes growing darker.
"Thirty-Six." She clenched her teeth.
"Your real name, if you please."
For a few seconds, Thirty-Six was confused. Her real name had been discarded when she had received her Number from Smith, and she hadn't answered to it in over ten years. "Ackerman. Mikasa." It sounded strange and bitter on her tongue.
"Pleasure. You've been a bad girl, haven't you Miss Mikasa?" Two stuck his free hand into a pants pocket, fiddling with something there.
Mikasa sneered. "And what would you know anything about it?"
"Your file." He shrugged and raised an eyebrow. "Top of One's termination list. Espionage, intel, out-field, dispatch even, you were quite busy when you were with us. Problems with One, I take it?"
Mikasa clamped her mouth. Two was being cheeky now, gloating even.
"I suppose it doesn't matter. I'm here to offer you a job."
Her ears caught the familiar words and she looked up into Two's slanted eyes. "You're here…to offer me–For what price?"
"I am here because I want to be. You're a hard one to track down, Mikasa." Two lowered the knife an inch. "No price. Just the satisfaction of killing One."
Mikasa snorted. "You think I don't know a trap when I see one?"
Two sighed. "Let's say I'm lying. For one, I would have already killed you and been done with it five minutes ago. You were too easy to overcome. Too easy. Second, you think One sent me to that fucking filthy bar in the red light district when my skills are obviously more attuned to more…dignified establishments?" He gestured to his attire. "And you've gotten dirty handprints all over my cravat." He muttered, frowning.
"Because I would obviously know that." Mikasa scoffed, refusing to fall for any of this man's tricks. He didn't really have the charm for those dignified establishments, but perhaps the way he carried himself and spoke so…tightly were his main ticket in. "Why the hell were you following me?"
"You were the best for the job." He answered stiffly. "A beautiful woman with nothing to lose. And with your skillset matched with mine, we can have One dead within the week."
Mikasa smirked. Smith dead within the week? "About this proposition. I don't trust you."
"Of course you don't. And I don't trust you." Two smoothed his jacket. "But we both have the same goal in mind. For different reasons obviously."
"Let's say I accept. How do I know you won't betray me to Smith?"
The knife edged downward again. "You don't know. And like I said before: if I had wanted to, I would have already done that."
Mikasa said nothing in reply. It was true, he could have, but maybe he was just toying with her, waiting for the right time to sell her out. Should she take the job? Now that her cover was blown, it would be her only way to accomplish what she had set out to do six years prior. She looked back at Two and his lax stance, and made her decision.
Flying into action, she crouched and whipped a hand around to rip the second knife from her other leg, her face contorted in a wicked smirk. In one fluid motion, she brought the knife up and hurled it down again, the tip aiming for Two's black chest. She could almost feel the hot blood on her hands.
"Ah-ah, Mikasa. What an awful way to treat your superior."
She almost screamed in her immense anger: Two had thrown up his free hand in defense—quicker than her eyes apparently—with a second blade, and it was currently locked against hers, the metal screeching and scraping. The other knife was now at her neck, and because she was crouched, her escape was looking more futile than before.
"Double-blade combat is my specialty." Two declared, his voice menacing. "I'd put that down if I were you."
Mikasa was breathing heavily again, and tears were threatening to fall. One last time. She jerked her arm around in an effort to shove the blade up his throat, but she was thwarted again: he sidestepped and slashed once, twice, three times, and her last weapon fell to the floor, useless.
"I'm not playing games with you, Mikasa." Two murmured. He was holding one blade in the backhand grip against her throat and the other was pressing uncomfortably at her stomach. "Don't make me kill you. Please. I'd really rather not."
"You couldn't have expected me to believe you on the first go, did you?" She shoved away the knife at her throat and he released the other.
"I suppose not. One always said you were a tough one."
She whipped her head around. "Smith is a monster. I don't care what he has to say about me."
Two shrugged. "I have a room in Paris for the night. We should get going."
"The hell I'm sharing a room with you—I don't even know your name!" She crossed her arms.
"You have to earn that one, Mikasa. Since we're going to be spending so much time together, I'm sure you'll think of something to persuade me." He smirked, the corners of his lips curling with amusement.
"You're disgusting." She spat.
"But you find it delightfully enticing." Two sneered back. "Your eyes give you away." He gestured to her face, his hand coming close to her cheek. "Dilation. And it isn't from stress."
Mikasa scowled and moved closer to him, her chest dangerously close to his. She reached down, still glaring at him, and took his hand, fingers feeling for his pulse. She grinned. "High pulse?" She tsked and raised a hand, thumbing his hair from his forehead. "And sweating in this cold weather? Attraction comes in pairs, my dear Two."
He grabbed her hand, his fingers clawing her wrist. "We'll discuss this in Paris, Thirty-Six."
"Ah, Paris. Going to try and seduce me in the City of Love just to prove a point? Rather cliché isn't it?" Mikasa retorted. "Going to have to try harder than—"
Two hauled her to the door and shoved her through it, almost tossing her to the ground. "No, Mikasa. I think you'll find I have a bit more leverage over you than you thought." He pulled something from inside his jacket. "I've had word that you have a missing brother." He waved a thin envelope. "So you'd best start being on your best behavior for me."
She gritted her teeth. "You're sick."
"All the better for you to work with me. We'll need a couple of sick minds to get this job done. If we're successful, we'll go find your brother." He raised an eyebrow. "Deal?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"Not really. You are the best for the job after all. Besides, you're beginning to grow on me. Which doesn't usually happen on the first date."
Mikasa snickered. "And what makes you think I'll stick around for the second?"
Levi waved the envelope again. "I have two things you desperately want. You will stay."
Games. And nothing but sass. Does nothing faze him? He's…intriguing to say the least.
"Get in the damn car. I'd like to get some sleep before we get to work, Mikasa." He said over his shoulder.
"What makes you think you'll be getting any sleep tonight, Two?" She bit her lip in a sly smile. Was she…flirting? Oh for god's sake…
"Spare me, Thirty-Six. Save it for the bedroom."
Mikasa pursed her lips and could only glower at his back.
Definitely intriguing.