'Assassins of the Hinata'
'Love Hina' is by Ken Akamatsu
Writer's note: There will be no 'what led them to do this?' or 'sad or broken home' background stories by the ladies of the Hinata. This story deals with 'what is' and will only be about present circumstances. From time-to-time, there will be hints about the resident assassins past.
Chapter 2: Confessions of a kind
Two weeks later…
"Shit, I need to get fucking laid," says Shinobu unbinding herself. Sitting on a wash stool, she grabs the sponge and bottled soap from a shelf in front of her.
"If you would quit dressing all loli and hiding those huge luscious tits of yours," says Naru from a neighboring stool, "Then I think we could finally persuade our Kei-kun to jump your bones."
"Fuck off, bitch!" comes the first part of a reply followed by…
…THWIP!
A large American-style Bowie knife sticks in the column next to where the brunette's head had been a second before.
"Oh."
Message sent.
Teasing her about these subjects has always been off limits.
"Remember, Naru," says Kitsune dryly from her position in the hot spring, "Our resident chef is very sensitive about her rather large assets and our Kanrinin. Height too, if I remember correctly."
"Yeah."
Looking over at the Fox, Shinobu nods.
Pulling the knife from the column, Naru knows that if the 'petite chef' had wanted, she would be quite dead.
Usually, she never misses.
That was not the point of this little demonstration.
"Gomen, Shinobu," says Naru handing the blade grip out to its owner, "I realize now that my timing sucked."
The petite woman receiving knife back nods slightly to her in response.
"I too wish that he too would take notice of me," says Motoko after rinsing the shampoo from her long lustrous ebony hair.
"You have been saving yourself him, haven't you," queries the Fox.
Normally quiet, as she keeps her thoughts to herself, Kitsune always perks up when the subject of their resident man comes up.
"Yes, Mitsune-Senpai," responds Motoko stepping down into the onsen, "He is the only man I have ever considered worthy of me."
Kitsune's two statements cause the others to look in her direction. She is never this verbose.
"I feel the same way," says Kitsune looking over at the Samurai while she gets comfortable.
The others nod in acknowledgment.
At first, her voice is calm, but as Kitsune continues, it begins to waver and increase in volume.
Total surprise.
"How do you tell the man we all love the truth about us?"
'Whoa,' thinks Naru looking over at the ash-blonde sharpshooter, 'I never knew she felt this way.'
Continuing…
"About the fact that he has eight of the worlds' most dangerous women living under his roof, and that we all love him. Tell me!"
The last part she screams.
The four are now sitting together in the warm comforting water.
Sighing, Shinobu enjoys having her E-cups bob on the surface.
As usual, Naru drools while enjoying the sight.
"How in the fuck did that sweet, unassuming and gentle young man worm his way into my heart."
Tears begin to fall down her cheeks.
Shock abounds, as she finishes, "If you can tell me, I'd really like to fucking know how!"
You could hear a pin drop out here as the atmosphere changes…
Understanding how the normally quietest of them can feel this way, Shinobu hugs the now vulnerable sharpshooter as she cries her eyes out.
"I am not just some heartless bitch!" Kitsune blurts out again in frustration.
The others witness a completely different side to the generally levelheaded gunslinger.
"Even with all of my experience when it comes to men, Kit," says Naru looking around the spa, "I haven't a clue. You see, I love Kei-kun just as much as the rest of you."
It goes quiet again for a moment…
"I love him as well," says Kaolla entering the onsen, "I am sick of acting like some crazed teenager who bounces around like a fucking idiot. I would gladly allow him to bed me and take my virginity."
After releasing Kitsune, Shinobu sits up on the edge and dangles her feet in the water.
Angrily she says, "Fuck what Haruka and Mutsumi have instructed us about keeping up this fucking façade. For fucks' sake, I am a grown, 26-year-old woman. If something is not done soon, I will unbind myself in front of Keitaro and show the man I love what kind of a woman I really am, no matter the consequences."
Kitsune lights a cigarette and allows the nicotine to soothe her.
Shinobu grabs one out of the pack and lights up as well.
"You speak for me as well, Shinobu-Senpai," says the Samurai, "Too many nights I have burned for the man living one floor below me. I wish to be a virgin no longer and have even turned down many an Omiai in hopes that one day I could give Keitaro-sama my gift just as my Ane-ue has done."
All have heard about his prowess with women in bed before the 'incident', but none of the details. Except for Motoko.
"I usually have very little to say about what happens around here," Kitsune whispers after another drag while doing a slow burn inside, "However, when it comes to Keitaro, I will soon have him or someone will have to pay with a fucking bullet."
"Not that I have not thought about ravishing Kei-kun myself while living right over his room," interjects Naru attempting to think logically, "Haruka has not allowed me to touch him for some reason and I would love to know what that is. However, in his present condition, we need to proceed carefully and not scare him off."
The last few words come out after a slight pause and with a little added emphasis.
"That pisses me off too," comments Shinobu knowing only minor details of the major incident concerning Keitaro.
Tamps cigarette butt out in Kitsune's ashtray.
"Haruka had better spill on the details soon too or she may have to have a little talk with sweetie," hisses Kitsune petting one of her most feared weapons.
"They did a fucking botch job on him," says an animated and angry Kaolla, "I could have done better myself if given half-a-chance. Hinata really fucked up concerning her grandson."
Her lack of using scientific terminology and substituting in euphemisms signals the 'mad scientists' ire.
Looking at Kaolla, Naru knows how she feels.
Mentioning the feared Matriarch of the Urashima brings no pause to this little gathering.
Nonetheless, this particular discussion has been a long time coming, so they hold nothing back.
For some reason, when it comes to Keitaro, the five are in total sync.
With their three other partners, this octet functions brilliantly as one deadly and well-oiled killing machine. Eight very different personalities and exceedingly volatile ones at that.
Conversely, they are still women and as such, have certain needs.
"I'm glad the other three aren't here right now," says Kitsune regaining her composure. She turns her eyes away from the others and looks up to the sky.
"I know where Haruka is," chimes in Naru wanting to change the subject. Kitsune's statement is her 'out'.
Though the Fox is the resident 'shrink', the brunette MD knows that the atmosphere out here has to change.
The air contains too much anger and is on the verge of igniting.
After a slight pause, she then asks, "Hey, Princess! Where are our resident Poisoner and Psycho right now?"
While toweling off after her soak, Kaolla answers with, "Mutsumi is in France, and Kanako is in Canada. Both are tying up different ends of the same loose thread".
"Before I explode, those three had better return very soon," says Shinobu angrily tabling the rest of this discussion with her open-ended threat. Drying herself off, she then re-binds her very large breasts.
"We will just have to wait then," says Naru exiting the spa with Motoko and Kaolla.
The resident chef gives her a dubious look.
Nodding, Kitsune gets out and goes cold again.
Embers though still smolder.
Scenario #6:
Paris, on the Champs de Elysee…
Sitting at a table outside of a small pâtisserie on this sunny day, a smiling woman of Japanese descent breaks off a piece of a flaky croissant and butters it. Biting down on the fresh pastry, she nonchalantly looks across the street.
Seated in an open bistro, three people seemingly enjoy a mornings' repast as well.
Two large men of obvious Eastern European stock, possibly Russian or Ukrainian sip strong coffee. Their companion, a middle-aged woman of Asian descent peruses a tablet in one hand and smart phone in the other.
Using her sharp hearing, the woman at the pâtisserie hears a few angry words in Mandarin from across the way.
A tablet slams on the table startling fellow patrons.
The two men ignore the angry outburst from their companion as well as the stares from the other patrons.
'Clue number one,' she thinks sipping her freshly ground light-roast coffee.
Breaks off another piece of pastry and butters it.
Biting down, a smart phone rings.
'Unimaginative,' she thinks deriding the ringtone of the person answering it.
She listens in carefully.
Pulling an older flip phone from his pocket, the larger of the two men opens the device.
Nodding at the screen, he puts the device to his ear.
The conversation is seemingly one-sided and short.
"Da," is the only word from the man's mouth.
'Russian by the gruff manner, clue number two,' she thinks finishing her coffee, 'Ex-GRU by their mannerisms.'
Pulling money from his pocket, he drops it on the table before signaling the others that they have to leave.
One of the men opens a rear car door for the Asian woman before climbing into the front with his compatriot.
The engine starts and pulls away from the curb.
Paralleling the car, a motor scooter on a side street has no difficulty following the trio.
The woman on the motor scooter smiles brilliantly once again. She knows the destination thanks to a certain codebreaker back at home.
Stopping in front of an expensive apartment building, only the older woman goes inside after telling them she would be only a few minutes.
Nodding, the two men leave the motor running and roll down the windows to listen for anything out of the ordinary.
Neither feel the sting of a small dart in the neck as a scooter stops next to them.
Both men are dead quicker than their next heartbeat.
Pulling over to the curb in front of the running car, the woman puts on a small knapsack and walks over to the front entrance of the building. Using a code descrambler provided by a certain genius, she enters and goes to a first floor suite in the rear.
Sitting at a desk inside, the middle-aged woman staring at a desktop computer screen feels nothing after a tiny prick.
Panicking at her sudden lack of mobility, she then hears a familiar voice, "Ni hao, Pao."
Not being able to respond, she sees the room spin some. The voice turns her chair around so that they can see each other face-to-face.
Eyes go wide in fear knowing that her death is mere moments away.
In perfect Mandarin, she then hears, "You were warned about what would happen if you got involved in human trafficking again. I told you personally that if involved yourself in child prostitution and pornography, I would kill you. My little pet with the note on her plastic container should have sent a clear enough message."
Pao loses focus.
"Oh by the way," says the poisoner pushing a now dead corpse to the floor, "Say hello to your two friends in hell for me".
The smile returns as she now sits in the vacated chair.
Unzipping her pack, she pulls out a device stamped with a familiar three-eyed triangle. Inserting a cable end into a USB port, she turns it on as instructed.
A light on top flashes blue.
Seeing the computer flash rapidly before her, she watches the encrypted files download into the device.
The light turns green.
Finished.
Taking out a second device that looks like a simple flash drive, she plugs it in after pulling out the first one.
A virus looking for certain computer uplinks then infects a number of insidious networks on the web.
"Brilliant," she says smiling.
Wrapping this up, she calmly puts everything away.
Standing up and stretching, she looks out into the hallway for any witnesses.
Smiling at her success, she ignores the corpse on the floor and hefts her pack back on before disappearing into the metropolis that is Paris.
A few days later on a flight bound for Tokyo, a woman pulls the picture of a young man from her purse and says, "See you soon, my love."
End of Sanction.
Personnel Spec's: Otohime, Mutsumi. Age: Classified
Specialties: Manufacture and usage of poisonous chemical toxins of all classes. Mostly from natural sources such a spiders, snakes and certain deadly plants or mushrooms/toadstools. A skilled archer with unmatched accuracy. Translator of extraordinary talent and caliber. Is fluent eleven languages and has working knowledge of fifteen others.
Delivers toxins either by means of a blow dart, dart gun or compound bow.
Training: Hand-to-hand combat utilizing Krav Maga, Systema and Karate. Has a fifth degree black belt in Okinawan Karate and is proficient with a western Special Forces compound bow. Has a Doctorate in Organic Chemistry and an MBA from Osaka University. In addition, has a PhD in Linguistics from Tokyo University, and working knowledge of advanced Philology.
Comments: Nicknamed the 'Brown Recluse' for her use of sending the said spider as a harbinger. Thought to be immune to all known toxins and poisons. Utilizes a sunny disposition to downplay her role as one of the planets' leading poisoners.
Verdict: Given free agent status.
Across the ocean…
Scenario #7:
Nightfall… Toronto, Canada.
Receiving a coded signal on her smart phone, a young woman smiles and prepares herself.
"We are going to have some fun tonight," she says pulling a special wooden box from her travel bag.
Opening the box, the smile then becomes a frightening grin.
Total darkness descends…
Enwrapped in a large black cloak shot through with lace lined with crimson, a young woman emerges from the shadows.
From underneath the cloak, a black calf-length Lolita-style dress and shiny black lace up Goth boots finishes her ensemble.
A large-eared, long-tailed black cat rests comfortably on her left shoulder.
Passing by an anime convention outdoor cosplay contest gives cover as the participants shower their compliments on the authenticity of her look.
Little do they suspect?
However, that type of fun does not enter her mind right now.
Not too far away, in a third floor apartment…
A middle-aged man of Caucasian descent looks at his computer and sees certain discrepancies.
"Pao, you stupid bitch," he hisses knowing not to open certain banking files, "You just had to piss her off."
Having seen the note on the packaged spider, the man ensconced in this room ran for his life.
The woman in question laughed it off telling him she had safeguards in place against such an eventuality.
"You should have known better," he whispers finishing off his Chinese takeout, "We both had warned you."
Although, just the 'banker' and an excellent 'money-launderer', he realizes that his part in Pao's scheme could also get him erased.
He was not a pervert like some of the others, just the 'bag' man.
Still…
He fears knowing that the former Chinese crime boss' assassin has a number of associates who would relish putting a hole into his skull or maybe chopping off a piece of his body.
Having it done quickly would be his preferred way.
Outside in an alley…
Looking up to a third floor and seeing a light on the suite, she whispers, "It is almost time to play."
Using well-trained muscles, she quietly ascends a nearby fire escape and waits patiently for darkness in the room.
A grin re-asserts itself.
Stripping off his shirt, the man re-checks his .38 revolver before placing it underneath his pillow. Before meeting the female pornographer/drug dealer, he never needed to possess such a weapon.
"Fucking bitch," he hisses before turning the lights out, "You were so beautiful and we had plenty of cash hidden away."
It goes dark in the room.
The grin widens.
Three hours later…
Feeling a furry presence caress his face, the man in bed awakens.
A light comes on.
Tied by his hands and feet to the bedposts, the man now lies upturned and naked.
Walking down to the end of the bed, a young woman wearing Kabuki makeup with a black teardrop descending from her left eye stops and faces him.
Her full Lolita-Goth costume is on total display for the man to see. Lace and ruffles permeates liberally throughout her dress. Black lace fingerless gloves don her porcelain hands. A crimson ribbon, a gift from her most important person ties back her long ebon tresses.
"Oh fuck," gasps the man in horror, "Not you."
"You will have all of my attention this evening as I begin another masterpiece," she says holding a ball gag in one hand and a straight razor in the other.
"You sick bitch," hollers the man crying now in panic.
"In some peoples' minds maybe, but it matters not to me," she responds in a detached manner.
The cat pads back to its mistress shoulder. From its higher vantage point, the feline gets a front row seat to tonight's performance.
The ball gag goes in after she plugs his nose.
"Now where to begin?" she asks rhetorically.
Opening the sharpened implement, she licks it and begins…
Out in the deserted hallway, and for the next three hours, no one hears a muffled scream come from the only occupied room on this floor.
A few days later…
A beautiful young Japanese woman of university age smiles while going through customs, her rolling suitcase and a small carryon is all she claims.
While boarding her flight, RCMP detectives enter a certain Toronto apartment.
They had received complaints of putrid smells emanating from there.
A hardened detective along with an older patrol officer lose the contents of their stomachs' after finding the source of that stench.
A human hide hangs from a coat hook as its former owner lies decaying on a bed nearby.
The big mystery, the locks on the door and windows show absolutely no signs of someone tampering with them.
On a Tokyo bound flight after settling in her seat, a young woman says, "See you soon, Onii-chan."
End of Sanction.
Personnel Spec's: Urashima, Kanako. Age: Classified
Specialties: Dispatching sanctions by the most hideous means imaginable. Her main implements are either an older-style men's straight razor or a laser-sharpened scalpel given to her as a gift. Uses stealth and a lithe body to advance on targets so that they never see her coming. A master of disguise and is an expert makeup artist.
Training: A seventh degree black belt in Karate, and is an expert in her clans' own Martial Art. Attends Tokyo University as a Psychology undergrad.
Comments: Possesses an eidetic memory. Uses her psychotic persona as an extremely effective weapon. Has an extreme 'brother complex'. She can turn her sadistic streak on and off at will.
Verdict: Given free agent status.
End of Chapter