A Historical Moment

Chapter Two:
America, 1920's

Summary:
After the events in Pompeii, Misaki has no idea what's to come. Nor why the thousands of bio-domes around the world are all of sudden being destroyed. However:
What is dead, may never be truly dead

With a shudder and a jump, I woke myself from her deep slumber that always followed a Travel. The note from earlier this morning fluttering down from my warm and cozy bed onto the floor beneath, like a leaf on the wind. A loud knock echoed from my door, Sakura's voice whining out.

"Misa-chaaaaaaaan. Up, up, up! It's time for school."
With a slow, shuddering breath I slipped my legs out of the warmth of my bed and into the horrible world that lay outside. As I hurried around my room collecting my uniform and textbooks I began to wonder how our society got itself into this mess. The rumors in the poorest slums and whispers behind high-class glove-clad hands and fans tell two different stories. The Slummers say that the ability to Travel was forced upon every living human being through the water we drink, air we breathe and food we eat. Whereas the Richies say that it was a gift that science handed to human beings on a silver platter so that we may dine in the best time periods. Whatever that means. Although, in both tales there is always a few things that are exactly the same:

First being that we've had the 'ability' to Travel for 160 years. However, this is just an estimate.

Second being that the first humans who gained the ability immediately died by 'splicing' after their first visits

Lastly, the ones that did survive the first time Traveling became something..otherworldly.

With a sigh and a shake of my head, I dismissed any strange thoughts about the past. As I pulled my skirt on, my foot stepped on something that crackled, which I assumed was paper. My suspicions were proved correct when I glanced down and found yet another job form. Holy rations, the note from my last job said that my rent would be paid for this month and the next although when I glanced at the note in its entirety I found it wasn't for rent but rather luxury items. Of course, I found this strange. Why would one of these high-class, pompous bastards offer up pricey luxury items to a lower class citizen like myself? That whole thought was impossible on its own, but add to the fact that it was in exchange for a job!? Inconceivable.

Perhaps I should explain myself, our society has been divided up into a feudal-like system. The Richies, Middletons and the Slummers.

The Richies are the ruling class that are very wealthy, and they continue to gain wealth by bending the laws set in place about altering the past. By bending these laws the Richies go back into the past and alter things, giving themselves wealth and influence.

The Middletons are your run-of-the-mill citizens. More concerned about the state of their homes and families than the business of the government, they Travel for pleasure like the Richies though I would assume they take no enjoyment in it. I can only imagine however as my family has always been poor, therefore placing us in the category of Slummers meaning that I've always had to live hand to mouth, but for some reason for the next month and a bit I can somewhat relax since my rent has been paid.

Walking down to the monorail station had never been so difficult, for whatever reason my steps were sluggish and slow as the body that had never failed me began creaking and putting up such a fight although when I examined the monorail pull into the station I sprinted up the million stairs.

Doors closing. Stand clear. The monotone, female voice droned out which only made me increase the speed of my sprint increase as I just managed to squeeze between the two heavy metal doors as the rail began to start its journey towards Seika.

XxXxXxX

Never had I ever imagined how lovely it would be to treat myself in the public baths. Something I had never done before due to my lack of funds before this particular moment. Actually, truth be told, I had ever had a bath before this moment as they were only saved for the extremely rich...or those who could actually afford to go to public bathhouses since the rest of us stuck to plain old three-minute showers.

Breathing a sigh of relief I let my muscles relax in the steaming water, a towel wrapped around my hair to keep my ink black hair from getting wet, though considering how humid it was within these walls I could only guess that it was in fact already wet. Glancing around the bathhouse I noticed something peculiar; there were no elder people here. Nor any younger than my tender age of seventeen. Although I had never been to a public bathhouse before I would have naturally assumed that there would be younger and older people. Yet the more I pondered about it, the more puzzled I became, so with my interest piqued I swam..more like waddled.. my way over to a young girl my age with brown hair and a bright red streak running through her otherwise solid brown hair.

"Ohayo, jeune ami. I was wondering if you would be able to answer a question for me?" (1)

"Oh, oui, of course I can. What seems to be the problem?" Her sweet voice replied.

"Why are there no young or old people here? I have never been to the public bathhouse before."

"No young people nor any older people come here." Brown eyes met my own, behind them screamed that she was lying but by the look on her face and her eyes darting around the place I could tell that she was deeply afraid of something. Though of what, I wasn't sure. That was until my eyes caught the female 'attendants' standing around the tiled walls of the warm room.

These weren't attendants... They were guards.

After thanking the young woman, I quickly jumped out of the bath and headed towards the change rooms to grab my street attire and flee this place. However, luck was not on my side as a hand clamped down on my shoulder a few steps from the change room door. Spinning around at my assailant I took up a defensive position, to be met with the 'kind' face of an 'attendant' holding out a bright white towel.

"You dropped this." The towel was thrown into my hands. Quickly thanking her I walked backwards into the change room. Only to bump into a broad chest of a man. Lady Luck really hated me today.. As I began to apologize to the man I realized he wasn't behind me as he had retreated to the male section of the bathhouse. With a shrug I approached my locker and after letting it scan my thumbprint it swung open with a loud clank and a piece of paper floated out of it. Although the message on the paper didn't concern me as much as the fact that it was written on true, white paper which was becoming more and more expensive as weeks dragged by. Flipping the small piece of paper open with my thumb I decided to read it's contents.

Ayuzawa Misaki

Destination: 1920's America

Mission: Discover the heir to the Walker Company

Description: After the legitimate heir to the Walker Construction Company died mysteriously, there have been rumors that an illegitimate heir has been running the company in his stead. Discover who he is and if need be take fatal action. Gain his trust; whether it be as friends or lovers need not matter. If this illegitimate heir is truly running the company dispose of him. If not, then do what you do best my dear Misaki: fade into memory.

Added notes: You will take the persona of a gangster in an Italian-American gang mob. As Prohibition is in place, be wary of any alcohol consumed as it can be very dangerous and may kill. Be on guard, kitten.

-M

KITTEN!? Who was he to call me 'kitten'. I didn't know who this man even was. Although, alcohol? What an interesting method of escaping one's troubles. Also, why did the name 'Walker' seem to strike a memory? I could have sworn I had heard that somewhere before, but couldn't place my finger on it. Knowing myself I decided to go to sleep as soon as possible, the more sleep I achieved the better I would feel. Especially considering I was about to Travel into the time period of the Great Depression. Great.

XxXxXxX

Sometimes I wonder why I spend
The lonely nights
Dreaming of a song.
The melody haunts my reverie
And I am once again with you.
When our love was new, and each kiss an inspiration.
But that was long ago, and now my consolation
Is in the stardust of a song.

A busty woman sang into a microphone standing on itself, her red lips moving around each syllable as her melodic voice sung out around the swing bar which reeked of cigars, moonshine and something else which I would rather not seek more information into. Shifting in the old leather seat, I noticed my limbs weren't able to move as freely as I would have liked them to and by glancing down at her attire it was easy to see why. A tailored, grey, pin-stripe suit covered my limbs and midriff whilst my chest was uncovered as the suit's 'wings' opened up, yet it covered all that it needed to.
It was revealing yet not.
It was sexy yet...well...sexy.
Needless to say, I looked gangster. The added American Colt M1911 attached on a holster on my hip just completed my look. Feeling powerful I brushed my hair back over my suited shoulder before meeting the brown eyes of a fellow gang-member, and judging by the tattoo of an ouroboros tattoo with a rose in the circle the serpent left. After a quick check at my collarbone I quickly added two and two together, you know just in case, and made sure he was in my own gang.

"Beat it, bimbo."

"C'mon baby, I know you carry a torch for me. I'll check ya later if you want." His lust-filled brown eye winked at me, leaving shivers down my spine and bile rise up in my throat. The thought of this man 'checking' me, or kissing is commonly known, left a bad taste in my mouth and seemed horrid to even think about.

"Dry up before I bump ya off, mate. Got it?" I was glad for once that with every Travel I automatically knew the language and how to act or else I would never know what to do. Though my mind translated what my mouth was saying: Shut up before I kill you.
Although my brain was still processing what he said to me before I assumed it went something along the lines of: I know you love me, I'll kiss ya later if you want.

As soon as this brown-haired gang member arrived he quickly left as his eyes glared at something or someone over my shoulder. Adjusting myself in my seat, and placing a hand on my gun I peeked over my shoulder to be met with...Tawagoto...Merde..Those same green eyes and blonde hair that I met in Pompeii. A cold sweat began to break out on my forehead and on the nape of my neck.

I had to get out of here, and fast.

There was an exit door over in the far corner but it was guarded by a big brute of a man. Who was also balding. I could hear Taku's footsteps grow nearer to where I was seated, even over the roar of the band and audience. Which is when a sudden thought crossed my mind: all stages had backstages. Without a second thought I jumped out of the booth, onto the tiny wooden table and ran over towards the stage, my long legs taking long strides and my breath coming easy even though I never ran. Perhaps another benefit of being a gangster is the active lifestyle?

"Bum's rash, dame, before I beat ya with a dead soldier." Leave now, lady, before I beat ya with an empty beer bottle

I didn't have to hear it twice before I bolted towards the wings of the stage leading to the backstage. With a pounding heart and adrenaline pumping through my veins I ran. A slap of heavy footsteps behind me, obviously male which were very quickly catching up with me before a sudden thought crossed my mind.

I was a mobster, therefore I was in a gang, which meant this body should be trained in martial arts. Or at least packing fire power. So there should be a gun of some sorts on my body.
The gun on my hip! Arms wrapped around my midriff as my hand reached for the Colt in its hip holster. Unfortunately I was slammed against a hard chest with my bare hand gripping the handle of the gun with enough force to break a glass.

"Hello there sweetheart. Why would a member of mine flee from my presence?" The blonde bastard's voice whispered into my ear. The stench of alcohol wafted into my nose from his breath.

"Let. Go. Of. Me. Idiot." I spat between clenched teeth.

"Why would I do that, Mimi?" A sickly sweet voice inquired, "Especially when you're mine."

"I'm not yours, Taku. I belong to no-one."

"Taku? Oh dear Mimi, have you forgotten my name already? It's Ta." His muscular arms spun me around so I was facing him, him and his sexy jawline. No Miaski, don't think about that! Bad Misaki. Whilst scolding myself internally I didn't notice his face suddenly in my own, a growl rising in his chest and a sneer curling around his lips.

"My little whore, you ran from me. For that, you better apologise or I will kill you." The sickly sweet voice I was used to hearing became something sinister and blood-thirsty. Like hell I would apologise to this idiot.

"Never. Go die in a hole."

As soon as the words were out of my mouth I knew it was the wrong thing to say. My breath was knocked out of my lungs as he threw me to the ground, blood pouring down my back as my head hit the solid ground. If I showed any emotion or pain it would only lead him on, but thoughts ran through my head wondering if I would even survive this. Breathing became very difficult as his strong hands wrapped around my neck and his legs pinned my arms down to my sides. Black spots began to appear in my vision, fading in and out and I knew that very shortly I would lose consiousness. Although a large black oval lay in my peripheral vision, unsure what it was I quickly darted my eyes towards it, soon to discover it was the gun that must have fallen out of the holster on my hip. My hands were still pinned beneath his legs, so I did the only thing a woman would do whilst in this intimidating position: I moaned slightly to make him loosen his grip, and when it had I rammed my head into his nose, smiling sinfully as I watched the blood pour of his bruising, yet broken nose. Without hesitation I skidded over towards the American Colt, and spinning around on my heel like a true mobster aiming right between his ice blue eyes.
Wait...Taku's-Ta's eyes were green. Not blue.

"Videtur quod non omne quod est , est , o dulcis Misaki . Vigilate tuum." Latin spilled out of his mouth, my eyes widening as my brain somehow loosely translated the saying:
Not everything is as it seems, my sweet Misaki. Watch your back.

Ta shook his head to and fro as his eyes dissolved to their normal green and honed in on the barrel of the gun which was now pointed right between his eyes.

"You wouldn't Mimi. I run the Walker Construction Company now, besides, I know you. You're more of a flapper than a true mobster."

My hand shook slightly, he was right. I wasn't a true mobster. But I wasn't a flapper either. I was Misaki Ayuzawa, daughter to Minako Ayuzawa and a bastard of a father. I had visited times and places the world couldn't even imagine and could see what was going on in the world I truly belonged to. But then again, I didn't belong anywhere truly...my soul was split across hundreds of time periods.

"You're right Ta. I'm not a true mobster." His expression relaxed slightly, "But then again, I'm not even from this century."
I waited for a response, yet recieved none. So at that I continued to talk.

"My name is Ayuzawa Misaki. You're a heartless, blood-thirsty bastard and I hope to whatever gods are listening that I don't see your sexy-I mean ugly face. Ever. Again."

Then I pulled the trigger.

A/N: Okay, so it's a little shorter than I wanted it. PLUS, a lot later than I wanted and for that I'm really really sorry but I hit a huge writer's block. Anyway, it's here now and I have a poll on my profile so tell me where or when you wanna go next! The next chapter's time period will be decided on the one with the most votes!

Thank you all so much for reviewing, following and adding it to your favorites. My little Time Travelers you! Tell me what you think about this chapter, either as a review or a PM. Any questions or queries? Don't hesitate to ask them.

Disclaimer:
I don't own Kaichou wa Maid-sama! Which stinks..but what can you do?

Translation Notes:
(1) "Ohayo, jeune ami." Hello, young friend.

Don't forget to read, review, recommend! Every review helps me become a better author, and more reviews may mean faster updates. Mwhahaha. Constructive criticism is always welcomed but flames will be extinguished.
Ja ne,
Snowy XxX

Don't forget:
What is dead, may never truly be dead.