Trouble Maker
Genre: romance, mystery, action
Pairing: Kuroh x OC
Summary: Even in the world of the clans in Shizume City, Nobody couldn't hold this stray down. She's so bad, so bad, then she's so good, even for one who never wanted to go back to the blue city. Title inspired by the song by Hyun Ah.
Chapter 1: Paper-Chasing
December 4, 10:00 pm
She does not want to go back to the blue city.
She calls it blue back then when she was a kid, all innocent and scrawny. She thought the blue city was made out of invincible crystals when she was younger, and had no ideas of the brawny. The tall towers await her, in the flesh of the blue sea raised in the sky. It overlooks the crystal village, larger than life, honor's own high. But the crystalline blue is not what makes it haunt her in her sweetest nightmares. The city's eyes are the things that chase her nights, the blinking yellow pairs.
Under the faceless lights, the plain décor of a typical country restaurant, we are inside the plain regions that isolate themselves from the modern and urban. Small droplets of running water decorate the glass window and wall, sleek as a cooking pan. The smell of hot ramen noodles ooze, oily and warm, and fill the air, which earlier has been an egg: round, pregnant-seeming and yet white, visually unsatisfying to look at.
Playing at a background level volume, was the song Am I Supposed To Be Sorry. Korean but very sentimental.
"Ahh, so you say now I have to go back there?" Hers is a voice that is clear amongst the thousands that yell to be heard.
A woman, no – a woman-child, with a male person in front of her, sitting at a Denny's.
"Yes. You have your orders."
"As does him." The pretty pointed little chin points to the lonely figure standing by the door of the restaurant.
"He should do it, he's the vassal."
"You also have your place if you think of it. You two are equal. He is the one who was handpicked."
"Yes." She hangs her head.
The shape acknowledges her. Polite and robotic, almost funny in a sense.
Her fellow speaker lowers his voice.
"You know, my dear, you should go there yourself, before he does. I think you are better suited to such a task. Not him."
She snickers.
"Me?" The doubt rises in her voice.
"Of course, you. You are more trained in such tasks."
"I am bound to serve this person whoever he is. It is his duty; I follow orders assigned to me officially, not bestowed upon. My duty is twice blest, it is a grace and flows directly from the King. I did not get such an order."
"But had the target been a truly evil entity, then it would be best for you to do it. Nobody can hold the target down. You yourself always prided yourself on the fact one day you would stop whatever harms our King, the one you devoted yourself to. It is your chance."
"You really think so?" She casts a look at the shadow, her eyes dim.
"Of course. Our King always prided himself in training you!"
"Can't nobody else hold it down?"
"Can't nobody? You, my dear, rise from the sun. You have to shut this threat down. If he were to do it, then it would be too slow."
"Then this is settled. I want it done now. Nothing will take me done now."
"Then you leave tonight?"
"Of course I am."
"That's very quick. How can you trust yourself?"
A scowl.
"I'd do it myself. I have to take it to the top, even if I have to face all of the Kings at my feet. I know I'd do it."
"No one's stopping you for now, but keep in mind that all the Kings will fight with you. This could turn into a war. And you know, wars, they take anyone. Even the strongest of them all can fall to a war."
"How about the King himself?"
"If the King is strong enough or the King is selfless enough to be a decoy."
"An ideal King does not simply give up himself, sir. To be a king, you must please everyone so you cannot be forced upon to give up yourself."
Another chuckle.
"Let her go, she might do a better job," one yawned. "Besides, he's too kind, as we all know. She, on the other hand, is stronger than him. She can kill, alright, and she simply won't complain."
"That's because she hasn't seen any blood yet. She doesn't know how HOMRA operates."
"I don't think HOMRA will care when they spot her. There's been no threat of war as far as I am concerned."
"She's as fiery as the HOMRA is." One chuckle.
"She's harmless. She likes to fight and eat is all."
"You're making her nervous."
She raised her hand, her eyes were as sensual as the steel hidden under the folds of her clothes.
"Shh. Don't be too noisy. He'll notice," she chided, trying to keep her voice down low.
"Promise us," one intoned. "Promise us you'll track him down. Promise us you'll go further than he could. Promise us nobody could stop you. Promise us you'll be safe."
She snorts.
"I need not promise."
"Please. We need enough confirmation."
"Remind us why you are doing this."
"I don't need to," she replied, fire in her eyes. "It's enough I will let everyone know I run this show, you know. They'll think I'm bad, I'm bad but I'm good. He moves too slow, you know."
"Bad, bad, then I'm so good, good," one echoed, looking at her.
"Do you promise?"
She raised her right hand, knowing it was all-too inevitable.
"I do. I promise in the name of the King I serve, who I am devoted to. I promise to track down the next King, and lest he turn out otherwise slay him, if necessary, to fight for and be strong, to not be caught, to not catch the attention of the other Clans, to be loyal and fervent, in the name of the King I serve, who is gone now: in the name of Ichigen Miwa-sama. Let everyone else who serves him who is now here witness my promise. Help me, God."
"You didn't mention your name."
"I don't need to." Her eyes closed. "Ichigen-sama knows me as well as I know myself. Know thyself, said the wise, and he will never be lost. Ichigen-sama has known me since I was young."
"Very well."
She nods and walks away, a figure wrapped in a long and heavy fur-lined red jacket, ripped black leggings, and black combat boots, her eyes as heavy as the steel she holds. Her gaze is far away, as remote as the light is when it is night. She is walking towards the blue city, she knows, and that she has to travel. Nobody else has to run after; she is on her own and while the clock strums as impatient as lust, she has to catch it: the vision of rejection lying ahead of the wastes she expects in the blue city.
The door is nearby, and she rushes –
A hand stops her, blocking her body, and she meets eye contact with a pair of dark ones. Long black hair, and a sword at his side.
"Where do you think you are going? Ichigen-sama had orders for you to wait."
"Apparently, I have other orders, sir. You are not his only vassal. Besides, I'm going to take a walk." She raised her eyes to meet his, trying to convince him. Chrome hearts and the fendi furs, dipped in shit he would never hear – all she had. "He never ordered I be barred from walks. Ichigen-sama knows me too well."
"I have to go with you."
"You're not my nanny. Don't let it turn into a hot issue, sir." She pushed her arm past him. She had to get away now.
"I'm only watching you. He instructed me to take care of you now he was gone."
She spat. Inwardly, she cursed him.
"Let me go! I can take care of myself!" Her voice broke, and rose. Her arms shook. "PLEASE! I beg you! I…."
"You…what?" His deep voice softened.
"I…have to go back to the city. I promised Ichigen-sama…" Her voice was more choked, and she was finally halfway the door.
He lifted her chin to look in his eyes.
"You promised him… what?"
"I promised him I would go back to study Baking. He always enjoyed my baking, you know. I promised him I'd get a boyfriend and be nicer. More to your taste…"
"Very…well." Reluctantly, the young man let her hand go free.
"Thank you," she managed, trying to pull it off natural. "For your kindness, my lord…" She knelt, and when he pulled her up, she was ready.
There! I'm pulling it off! Inwardly, she took a deep breath of air. The next part was going to be so disgusting.. "Sir…." She squeaked, and pulled on his shirt, to come closer. "For your kindness to me, I will give you my own…"
She dragged him closer –
Their lips met.
As soon as the thing was over, she quickly ran away.
The thing was repulsive but she found herself irritatedly blushing as she speed-walked away.
Part 1 was over.
- / -
December 5, 3:30pm, Shizume City
The alleys were one of the most unlikely places for a story. They take you to a different world. The streets were a blank canvas of the grayscale that surrounded them, usually illuminatd by occasion by the pretty red of the yakuza and the clans. In Shizume City, they're more than the simple grayscale of rough and the thug life.
These gangs and yakuza are the rascals of the city. They are eyesores, rising from the sun in this city. In a flash of light and glass and crystals, they are the rough ones whose roughness proves not everything is artificial and fragile in the blue city. They're known to be hotheads, easy to rouse up in fights. The men who take beatings as is, with the necessary roughness. They rule the show of the puppet string show that operates after the dark.
Not all of them are rascals. There are black sheep, you know. The weakest, as others state. They're the quiet ones. There are a lot of variations, in this type. This black sheep usually can be the strongest – or in some cases, the kindest of them all.
Such is the physics of the HOMRA in the form of Tatara Totsuka.
He has old men's hobbies, as Yata blatantly puts it. He cooks, he might as well clean, and he likes bonsai. And for now, he's gotten a new camera, and trying skateboarding. The guy performs, but he's something compared to those K-pop idols: he's a Roy Kim in the making.
Click.
Click.
Tatara starts his day with a picture and ends it in them. He's a bored guy, you see, but today has got to be the surprise of his life. It's after lunch, and he's going visual sightseeing with his camera.
A rustle.
Tatara held the camera in his hands nervously, and then pushed the button to take a picture.
Click.
Another rustle.
"Hello?"
He took a nervous step, as the rustle grew more silent. The rustle had to be someone. He clicked the camera, trying to check if the person could be more visible with his camera.
"Hello?"
His foot landed on the smoother texture of the pathway, to the main streets of Shizume City.
A canopy of birds flew over.
"Hello? Is anybody here?" he called.
His fingers clicked the buttons.
Click.
Click.
Sighing, he took more pictures.
A girl letting her balloons go.
Click.
An old woman holding flowers.
Then somewhere – at a magazine shop, a girl sat on the desk of the cashier. Her hair was messy and cut weirdly, a nice color of blue green. Her eyes were wide and a nice shade of purple, framed by long lashes. She had a fringe parted on the right side, and her sidelocks reached to her shoulders cut in a bob style. The hair beyond her ears reached to her chin, blunt and straight. Her clothes seemed odd, too: red blazer with fur at the neckline, ripped denim leggings and black combat boots. She had plenty of metal rings and she had a scarf made of metal chains hoisted on her head. What caught him was the almost tired expression on her angry face.
A pallid face, pale, and with a wide forehead that the bangs covered. A nice nose, full lips, and face the shape of an oval. She really had a face he ought to take a picture of.
Click. Tatara grinned to himself. Perhaps Yata could finally get a girlfriend.
"HEY!"
Tatara jumped, and his camera fell - and a pair of aristocratic-looking hands with one of the longest hands he had ever seen caught it.
"Thank you," he murmured, and when he looked up, he stifled a gasp.
It was the mystery girl he took a picture of just a minute ago. In close-up, she was statuesque, intimidating. She was tall for a girl, with the appearance of a model yet she carried herself like a yakuza member. Her fingers were very tapered and long, but they were streaked with some white liquid… Mayo? Dip? Condiment? Her face was quite attractive enough, Tatara thought, if she was to be really dressed up all nice.
"Why are you staring at me?" she demanded, her voice cruel-sounding, but blunt enough. "And taking pictures of me? I'm not a model, sir!"
Tatara jumped again.
"Hey! Calm down!" he cried. Who knew someone so tall could be so blunt like this?! "I'm just taking pictures!"
"Fuck that, then," she declared, shoving the camera away from him. "This will be the last time you will see your beloved camera!"
"Hey, I'm sorry, miss!"
Her eyes blazed passionately purple. "Then care to explain why you're taking pictures of me!"
"It's a hobby, I like taking pictures! Besides, I took a picture of you because you're interesting to look at. Wouldn't you be so flattered?"
"I don't care for my looks, sir!" she growled.
The rumble of a hungry stomach ensued – and it came from her.
"You're hungry," Tatara announced. "It's best we talk this over a nice meal, can we? Did you eat already?"
At the prospect of food, she lit up.
She shook her head.
"I just arrived in the city about an hour after lunch," she muttered darkly. "I still didn't."
"Then it'd be an honor to take you to lunch, -"
"Ishida." She mustered her name manfully. "Ishida. name is Ishida Saika.*"
"Then I'll be glad to, Ishida-san."
He offered his hand to her, and Ishida stared at it. Reluctantly, she took it.
- / -
December 5, 4:30 pm
He treated her to the nearest ramen house, since he assumed she'd be eating sparingly, considering her sleek frame. Ichiban's.
However, he was proven wrong. Once he ordered, she started to but in. She wanted siomai, and a large bowl of pork ramen with the complementary miso soup and a large bottle of red iced tea.
When the orders were served, she ate like a pig. She shoved the food down her throat the way he saw Mikoto fight with his Aura. When she began to grab her chopsticks with her long fingers, she seemed like a polite and well-bred lady, but how she ate! She was a greedy little girl, who lived and breathed YOLO. Yep, like she did You Only Live Once. And she did it very well. Her eyes were purple flames that all consumed everything in its sight. She seemed to be rated AH or DH – Always Hungry or Dead Hungry.
"Ishida-san?"
"Yes?" She looked up and wiped her mouth with a handkerchief.
"Tell me why you are here and what happened so far to you."
"Oh, I just came here to go to Baking school," she quickly answered, sure of herself. "I left on a last minute because of well, family issues. My family split up, and my parents got divorced."
"That must be very difficult for you."
"Yes, it is."
"How old are you? Where are you going to stay?"
"I'm seventeen," Ishida replied politely and put a piece of some siomai. "I really don't know where, but I can manage fine on my own, -"
"Totsuka. Totsuka Tatara."
"Yes, Totsuka-san."
"Why not stay with me for a while, Ishida-san while you're going to baking school?" Tatara beamed. "I hope you don't mind living in a house full of men. You only have to pass the test to stay with us, though."
"Are you sure you're fine with it? You barely know me," Ishida pointed out, and gobbled mouthfuls of ramen.
"Really, I'm fine with it," Tatara assured her. He looked at her suspiciously. "Don't you have any other clothes and things while you're staying here in Shizume City?"
Ishida shook her head.
"I told you already: it was a last minute decision with my parents. My mother told me to get clothes here, but I already got lost. Shizume is so big. It's been a long time since I've been here, Totsuka-san. I'm not even sure if my uncle even lives here anymore. I used to live with him until I relocated away. My parents wanted me closer to them."
"How many years have you been away?"
"Ten years, I believe."
Tatara inwardly winced. "Don't worry. Ten years is really a long time. What's your uncle's name? I could have him tracked down."
"Track down?" A look of shock spread on her face.
"Yep. I could have him, if I wished."
"Suzuhara Riku. He used to work as a bartender in a bar called Hiei."
"Hiei's shut down now," Tatara confirmed. Hiei was already shut down; it used to operate on the building next to the HOMRA bar. It was bought for some karaoke bar. "But I'm not sure what happened to your uncle."
"Anyway, Ishida-san, all you have to do is meet the people you're going to stay with. If you decide to settle for a longer period of time, you need to talk to the leader."
"How many are you, anyway?"
"Twelve, if you include the leader. Don't worry, he might understand."
"When do I get to meet this leader, anyway?"
"Tonight, if you don't mind getting going to a bar."
"Fine. What about my things?"
"We'll take care of them."
- / -
December 5, 7:07 pm, HOMRA bar
Alcohol was an avid pleasure not for the fainthearted. But Hyorin had never been classified into the fainthearted. If it weren't for Totsuka-san, she might have never entered the bar at all. She was seventeen and still below the legal age but she didn't care; she was no one's for now. Her lies were taking effect so quickly, and all because she had chosen to leave what she knew for the blue city.
"I'm going to get a drink," Hyorin announced on arrival, noticing the arrays of people lining up, some partying, most ordering drinks.
"But Ishida –"
Saika ignored him and got straight to order.
"I'd like to order a cocktail, sir," she called to the bartender, a suave man with blond hair. "A Green Vesper, please."
"One Green Vesper coming right up."
He handed her the drink, she took it.
It tasted good. It tasted of freedom and she was relieved.
"Tatara-san, is she your girlfriend?" the bartender addressed to Totsuka. Totsuka smiled and shrugged.
"She's too young," the bartender laughed.
"It's not like that," Totsuka explained. "She needs somewhere to go. She got lost and we don't know where her folks are supposed to be."
"So you're taking her in?"
"For a time."
"You know, Mikoto needs to know."
Saika quickly gulped her Green Vesper drink.
What had she gotten into?
Her cellphone rang, and she quickly checked it.
KUROH Y.
Where are you?
Saika scowled and closed the Message folder. She got to her Contacts list and quickly searched for him.
There.
One click and Delete was there.
He had to forget her so she could concentrate on her mission. Besides, he was no boss of hers. He had to retrieve Kotowari first.
Another urgent ring.
I thought you said you would take a walk. A walk doesn't last a day.
Saika shut her phone off in frustration. URGH. Better get a new phone, dammit.
Another message.
I'm on my way there.
Damn. She had to go now.
"Hey, Ishida-san!" called Totsuka, waving his arms frantically. "I need to introduce you to someone, meet Mikoto Suoh, he's the leader of our group –"
"I'm really sorry, Totsuka-san but I have to leave." Saika grit her teeth. She lowered her head. "I can't stay here for now."
She started to leave.
"WAIT! What about your photo-"
"Save it! Some other time!"
With that, Saika left the bar, dragging her dirty self off the HOMRA bar.
Notes: First chapter! I hope you enjoy and that I didn't make the peeps too OOC and you enjoy Hyorin as much as I do. Please review! 3
* - I edited her name, since Hyorin is a Korean name.