The Secret Life of Shiranui Kyou

Chapter 2: Hitman


"Arms out,"

I unenthusiastically lifted my arms. The seamstress whipped out her measuring tape, deftly rolling it down my back, then up my arm.

Yuuya sat in a plush armchair, legs crossed at the knees as she sized up ties and matching handkerchiefs. "I think a bowtie would look charming."

"And I think I'd rather wear spandex shorts." Spandex shorts. Save that shit for the Olympics.

"Pink or orange, Shiranui-san?"

"Neither," if I wanted to look like a bloody peacock I'd ask Kazama for advice. He didn't have much appreciation for contemporary clothing but that didn't stop the talent scouts from approaching him.

Yuuya crumpled a tie, jaw grinding. "I am not dressing like a mourner for my graduation. Hurry up and pick a color."

"Blue,"

"No." She smoothed her hair down, sighing. I liked blue but, according to Yuuya, it was our worst color.

The woman taking my measurements finished jotting down numbers and headed to the backroom. I stretched and let my arms drop. We'd been browsing for at least an hour now.

"Look at this tie; it would match perfectly with my graduation clothes."

I glanced over at her. She was holding up an orange tie with a subtle red and pink floral print. The bright yellow of the pollen-covered stamens brought the flowers into focus. They were camellias.

"Alright, good enough." Just get this over with.

She was happy with my concession.

"Did you tell your father?"

"Tell him what?"

I could see how this was going to end now. Not well. "That you're bringing me to your graduation ceremony?"

Yuuya pursed her lips, thick sculpted brows raised. "Hell no. It is supposed to shock him and the French man, and if the French man thinks I am promiscuous he may reconsider."

I snorted and hopped down from the raised platform, sitting on the arm of her chair. "Pomiscuous?" Yuuya could act like many things, promiscuous wasn't one of them.

"Your father is going to hire a hitman."

She replied dryly, hiding a smile. "Whatever for?"

"You're trying to get me killed, aren't you?"


Takamaru yawned, lips bending around the canine fangs. From this angle, the silver bands at the base of his teeth showed. We were patrolling in a district with a notably high population of demons and gangsters.

It was quiet tonight, remarkably quiet. We hadn't heard sirens in an hour or more. Takamaru stretched and yawned again-he wasn't tired, just bored as hell.

I checked my watch. "It's ten to three,"

"This time feels really natural to me, recently. You figure it had anything to do with that?"

I shrugged. "You'd have to ask Maria." I ran a hand through my ponytail, contemplating. "Actually, you're not that different from the Rasetsu."

"Rasetsu?"

"Fake Oni. They were made from an elixir back in the eighteen sixties,"

"Huh. You have any personal experience with them?"

"Yeah; pumping silver bullets in their chests. Of course, there's none around now, and that's thanks to me and—" for a moment I was about to say 'you'. "Harada Sanosuke . . ."

Takamaru's face remained blank. "Nice. You look good for someone pushing, what, a hundred and fifty?"

A grin cracked my lips, dropping quickly. I ducked into a nearby doorway, Takamaru took the alleyway. I slid my gun from its holster and waved it at the group of people turning down the street.

A couple buff looking guys, demons, headed the group. A snake demon with his neck stretched out held up the rear. They kicked a tall youth in the back, but he refused to crumple, walking proudly—his hands tied behind his back.

"You wouldn't tie me up with this shit if I weren't a threat to you!" he shouted. His lip was split, and his eye was blacked. They pounded him on the back of his head and he fell heavily, on his face.

I stepped out, resting my gun on my shoulder. They didn't feel the least bit threatened, what a tough bunch.

"Buzz off, geezer."

"Obviously, they haven't heard about me," I drawled. Takamaru stepped behind me, taser arcing a current of electricity.

Every one of them pulled a knife. I rolled my eyes. When would people stop taking knives to gunfights?

Takamaru tackled one to the ground, shoving the taser under the guy's chin. I fired one shot and they turned tail. One guy even dropped his knife. Cowards, the lot of them.

The kid in the bindings remained and Takamaru bent down to remove the rope. His hands smoked and my brow stiffened. He grit his teeth, fangs pressing against the silver stoppers, and ripped the rope in two.

His hands were burned, I could smell it, and in the dim lighting the imprint of the scorch marks receded, healed in seconds.

I crouched next to the kid, looking him over. He was tall, but his muscles were only beginning to fill out, his face still slightly chubby. I'd guess he was about fifteen.

"Kid, what were you thinking, getting involved with those goons?"

He turned his nose up at me, petulantly. He refused to look at me. His demon was close to the surface, a ring of blue glowing in his eyes. "If they hadn't used that shitty rope. . ."

I pulled him to his feet, trying not to notice he had several inches on me. "This is the real world, Kid, get used to it." I could have sworn I'd seen him somewhere before, the squared jaw and stubborn chin. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

"No sir, not me," he replied, dusting himself off. "I'll be going now, but don't think I owe you. I would have given them what for, eventually."

Takamaru smirked and chuckled, hiding his taser. The kid stalked past him, turning his nose up at him too.

"What kind of demon was he?"

"No idea."


I'm picking this up again, after a shamefully long time. My voice of Shiranui has changed a bit but I'll try my best to blend it back together. I had a few chapters planned out right from the get-go so hopefully I can post fairly regularly.

Thanks for the encouragement to pick this fanfic up!